Part Twenty-Eight

Special notes for this part - Now... remember what Cordelia said once in 'The Wish'? "I wouldn't even look twice at Xander Harris if Buffy didn't make him so much cooler by hanging with him...I wish Buffy Summers had never come to Sunnydale." What if Buffy had never come to Sunnydale? What would change then?..........

Just so you know, I personally think that that whole 'The Wish' world was just TOO ridiculous. It's kinda hard to believe Sunnydale was actually like that without Buffy. If I remember correctly, in 'Welcome to the Hellmouth' ,when Buffy FIRST came to Sunnydale, it so DIDN'T look that bad. What, they made all the 'vampires rule' world go poof just for her arrival? She came to a regular town and not some demon dimension, not even knowing she came there just cuz she's the Chosen One...

This part is pretty much based on this POV.

Oh, yeah, something else - guys, please remember I'm only human. I tried to make all the changes as rational as they could get, but if you see something too ridiculous...well, sorry. I don't write for my living, I'm not professional, I do it for fun. I might have not done my homework on actually researching what could and could not have happened, so just blame the outcome on my own imagination...:)

K, I'm done, you can read now:)

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“Buffy!”

Through her blurry vision, she could see two arms reaching out to embrace her. These weren’t Angel’s arms, and it wasn’t his voice saying her name. She took control over herself in an instant and jumped back startlingly, pushing him away. She wiped her tears, and looked at herself. Yes, the same clothes she had been wearing before she was sent back in time. Then she gazed at the people around her. She couldn’t believe her eyes. Her first question was definitely the last one they had all expected her to ask. “What am I doing here?”

The man that tried to hug her before tried to do it again. “Buffy, thank God you’re alright!”

She shoved him off of her again, irritably this time. “Who the are you?” she demanded. He looked slightly affronted, but she didn’t seem to care too much. “Why am I here?” she asked again, resolutely.

“Don’t you remember any of us?” another man inquired her, also appearing hurt, this time she did care though.

Buffy tried to bring her mind to recall old images of people. Yes! Of course, she remembered them! She had never forgotten them, how could she? It was the first shock of arriving to this new place that obscured her memory. “Xander?” she asked the man.

He let out a breath of relief he’d been holding in all the time she'd taken to reply his question.

Buffy smiled at him and turned to the woman sitting next to him. “Willow!”

She ran to hug her and the redhead hugged her back, tears streaming down her cheeks. “God, Buffy, I thought I’d never see you again!”

Buffy let go of Willow and hugged Xander.

“Welcome back, Buff,” he whispered to her.

Then it was Giles’ turn.

Suddenly, Buffy turned to look at the couch, where two other people were sitting. To her not so surprise, in each other’s arms. The brunette woman looked up at the blonde Slayer. “Yeah, Buffy’s back. Nice to see you again, Buffy,” she said offhandedly, with a weak sneer, “what fun. Can I go now?” Cordelia Chase questioned the others in the room. “Some of us have shopping scheduled for today.” Her sarcasm didn’t utterly hid the tears sparkling in her eyes.

“Missed you too, Cordelia,” Buffy simpered, pretending the tears were undetectable.

“Can I leave with Delia?” Doyle asked. “The ride to LA’s long, you know. It was nice to see you again, Buffy,” he beamed at the Slayer, but she could also find the same distress as Cordelia’s in his eyes, and his smile wasn't real.

“Yes, you two can go,” Giles told them.

Cordelia and Doyle stood up together and he put his arm around her shoulders while leading her out of Giles’ apartment.

“Boy, kill me, but I just don’t get what he sees in her. I can’t believe I ever wanted to go out with her in high school,” Xander said after the door had closed behind the couple.

“Xander, you did go out with her in high school,” Buffy pointed.

“No, I didn’t,” he objected, confused.

“Buffy, Xander and I've been together since the beginning of senior year. He has never dated Cordelia,” Willow confirmed.

“He did, Willow,” Giles said, “in the life Buffy has lived, he did.”

“Oh! Right, right,” the redhead remembered, “I forgot. Sorry.”

Buffy stared at her best friend, then back at Xander. “Okay, I think my mind is one BIG mess.” She suddenly turned to a blond man standing a few feet away. “I don’t know you,” she said, “who’s he?” she asked her friends.

“Buffy, this is…well, was…” Willow tried to explain, “umm…was supposed to be…your boyfriend.”

Buffy shot her a look. “MY boyfriend?”

“Riley. Are you sure you don’t remember a Riley?”

Buffy thought for a second, then shook her head firmly. “No Riley.” She paced closer to Willow and whispered in her ear. “Are you SURE he was my boyfriend?”

“I’m very sure,” Willow smiled, “although, in our lives, it DIDN’T happen.”

“Okay, can someone please explain what the Hell is going on here, and WHY have you brought me back?!” Buffy sounded particularly enraged now.

Giles stepped in. “Do you remember the spell, Buffy?”

She knew what he was talking about. “I can see you do too, otherwise I wouldn’t be here,” she didn’t sound too happy saying the last phrase.

“Yes, well, not exactly,” Giles gazed at her with a mixture of emotions on his face, Buffy could not understand their grounds. Pain, concern, relief, bewilderment… “First, we did not know how much time your...task would require. After you had disappeared, and two days had passed, we were all still here. Everyone who was present the moment I cast the spell, was here. I, Willow, Xander, Cordelia, Doyle, Spike…and Angel. After two days, the strangest thing happened. Angel vanished. Not just…disappeared, but…one moment, he was sitting with Cordelia and Doyle on the sofa, and the next…he was gone. A split second later, Spike was gone too. Since that moment, everything has changed.”

“Everything?” Buffy was earnestly tuned in.

“By that he means, everything, including the fact that the world’s population was suddenly much larger,” Xander couldn’t forestall the wisecrack, drawing a nudge in the gut from his girlfriend and angry glares from her, Giles, and especially Buffy.

“The first thing that happened was that all of our memories have changed. For example, I never was your Watcher. I never even saw you once. I seemingly arrived on the Hellmouth together with a Slayer, and a special troop from the Watcher’s Council to stop the Master, which we did, and that Slayer died as has been foretold, and then I chose to stay…assuming I would contribute much more fighting the evil in Sunnydale than in England. Which was a good idea, because I later helped to stop the Ascension as well.”

“We haven’t met you too, Buff,” Xander said, “we only learned about vampires cuz in a point we stopped being too blind. And there was never a relationship with Cordelia Chase in this lifetime. I gotta admit I was drooling over her all the first two years of high school, but she didn’t even once look at me without having something to say on my expense. And then I got my brains back and winded up with my best bud ever, and the most wonderful woman I have ever met,” he caught Willow’s smiling lips in a kiss and put one arm around her shoulders.

“He’s right, Buffy,” Willow continued, “basically, all the things that you remember happening, well, maybe not ALL the things, but…all that had anything to do with you, well, they just never happened.”

“But somehow, YOU DO remember them,” Buffy indicated.

“Yes, well,” Giles began to explain. “We messed with temporal folds, Buffy, and if the circumstances were any different and not that urgent, I would have never agreed on that. What we did was something never to be done. We did not only change one small and insignificant piece of history, although I doubt such thing exists, we changed something major. Something that later changed history entirely. There are repercussions we are not even aware of yet. Some good, some bad, but most of them we would never know. Buffy, what you did broke the never ending circle that is time. This world is no longer the world you know. In some aspects it's better, in some, not. What you changed in the past, affected the entire future. Things have changed, the circle of time was broken for good. But there is still one thing I will have to research further. I don't understand how it happened that everyone who was at the spell casting moment present in the room, maintained memories from a life that indeed…never happened, the one you remember, together with new and a lot more solid memories from the life they know that DID happen. This is all I don't yet know. But the rest...do you understand what I am trying to say?"

Buffy nodded. “I guess that’s why I received such a warm cold shoulder from Cordelia.”

“Well,” Giles looked down, “Cordelia’s real life brought her to LA, after her father had lost all his money, and I presume that there she met Doyle. Cordelia’s personality…well, it just hasn’t changed.”

“Long live Queen C!” Xander quipped.

Giles shot him a look, but ignored and got back to his former statement. “Now, the problem is that Cordelia also holds to memories that convey her you are responsible for her best friend’s death. Combine that anger with Cordelia’s well known temperament, and you will receive the Cordelia you met a few minutes ago.”

“I see your point,” Buffy smirked.

“Yes. So, let us go back to the very start. After a while, you still didn't come back. I couldn't understand why. None of us could, for that matter, and there was nothing we could do about it. We didn't know a spell to bring you back. The only way, as far as we knew, to bring you back, was for you to cast the spell from there, and for some reason you didn't. We found the needed spell only a short while ago. I am truly sorry it took us so long. But there was something else I wanted to mention to you. Something I found that was very interesting, when after a few months, I thought I’d take a look at the Watchers’ Diaries. You would never believe what I discovered. A Slayer, named Buffy Anne Summers, was called at the age of fifteen.”

“Duh, Giles,” Buffy said nonchalantly.

Giles raised his finger at her, as if indicating he wasn’t finished yet. “No, Buffy. Apparently, you died at the age of sixteen.”

Buffy gasped. “God, I remember that!”

“You died TWO times?!” Giles shouted inadvertently.

“No,” she soothed him rapidly, “I only technically died once. But, on my sixteenth birthday, I ran into an ambush in the cemetery. Some vamps wanted to wish me a happy birthday, I guess," she simpered. "I was still in LA then, not really a trained Slayer, if you know what I mean. Anyway, there were about six of them. So I quickly dusted two, but six was just too much for me then, so one of them got to me, and almost killed me, when at the last moment, someone pulled him off of me. I didn’t see who it was cuz I blacked out on the spot, but when I opened my eyes afterwards, I found myself on my front step.”

“And until now, you don't know who it was?”

“Gosh, get real, Giles. Let's think, shall we? Who could that be?” Buffy smiled to herself. “You know, he was such a sweetheart when he unintentionally spilled about that incident. He tried to cover it up for like ages afterwards, so that I wouldn’t think he was stalking me then, even after I'd told him I loved him so much just for that…” her voice faded and she distanced, as her thoughts drifted away to her love.

“Of course. How could I not see it! You see, you obviously died on your sixteenth birthday, never even coming to Sunnydale. No one except for us knows you. From what we found out later, your mother and father divorced after your death, and therefore Joyce moved from LA to Sunnydale. She still lives here. I should have linked these two historical facts. Of course. According to the Watchers’ Diaries, the demon Angelus has never existed. I found no records of him at all. The Scourge of Europe never was, so that means Angel has never… so, you really did it.”

“I did what?”

“You killed Angel,” Willow said softly, “oh, Buffy, I’m so sorry. It must have been terrible for you.” She hugged her friend.

Buffy pulled back gently. “No, I didn’t.”

“I don’t get it,” Xander said with the misunderstanding apparent in his voice, “the Great Dead Boy Legend has never been written, so you must have done something. Enlighten us, if you will,” he prompted.

“I don’t believe you, guys,” she surveyed all of them, “you actually thought…you thought I’d be able to…KILL Angel? Are you guys kidding?”

“So, what DID you do?” Xander demanded.

“I didn’t kill him. I stopped him from becoming a vampire, yes, but killing him…you actually though…God, people! And to think you’re supposed to be my best friends!”

“Well, Buffy, we assumed…”

“Know what, Giles, I’d wanna see you killing Jenny.” She quickly regretted for that slip, but when the Watcher’s expression didn’t change, she became confused.

“Jenny? Who is she?” Giles inquired.

*Oh…* Buffy understood, *why would he know who she was? Angel has never come to Sunnydale, so she hasn’t either. There was no one she needed to spy after…* “Nobody. I don’t even know why I brought her up,” she rapidly amended.

“I am deeply sorry, Buffy,” Giles said sadly, “it took us so much time to bring you back where you belong. We should have done it much earlier. We have wasted over a year of your life.”

“WASTED over a year of my life?”

“It doesn’t matter, though,” the voice of that other man sounded. Buffy started to barely recall who he was. From what she started to remember, her boyfriend or not, but something about their relationship just seemed wrong. “What important now, is that you're here, and that you're staying.”

Buffy turned to him. *What’s his thing? If I'm dead in this word, why does he remember me as his girlfriend?!* She looked at everybody in the room. They smiled. They shared his thoughts. Buffy shook her head explicitly. “No!”

“No what, Buffy?” Willow asked with concern.

What they did to her had finally sunk in. Tears started flowing down her cheeks. “No,” she whispered helplessly, “no, you can’t do this to me…”

“Buffy, what is it?” Willow approached her.

Buffy flinched. “Send me back,” was all she said.

“No!” She heard Riley’s protest.

“Shut up, damn you!” she snapped at him through her tears, and then looked back at Willow. “Send me back, I beg you.”

Giles cut in. “Buffy why would you want us to?…”

“Do you have any idea what you've done?!” she glared at them. “I can’t stay here! I’m not! God, Giles, do you have any idea?”

“We did it for your own good,” he objected.

“My own good?!” she cried. “You ripped me out of my family! God…” her tears became stronger. “One moment I was in my husband’s arms, kissing him, and hugging our son, and the next…the next, I’m here! You can’t do this to me, Giles! You have no right!!!”

“Your husband?” the aged Watcher asked in confusion. “Yes!” she cried. “My husband, and my son. I have a family there, Giles! You can’t keep me here!” she spoke more calmly now, as a realization came up to her. “Giles, it isn’t my world. It isn’t my home. I don’t…I don’t belong here.” Buffy wrapped her arms around herself. “I belong there. I belong in his arms. Please, Giles, don’t do this to me,” her eyes begged for his help.

“Buffy, I am sorry.”

“You will send me back then?” hope and expectation were in her tone.

He shook his head sadly. “I can’t.”

Buffy gaped at her former Watcher. Her lips moved, as she tried to utter the words, but no sound was heard. Buffy felt she was suffocating. Before she knew it, she passed out.

Part Twenty-Nine

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Buffy was in a different place when she woke up, on a bed. It was the first thing she became aware of, once her headache had lessened. She must have hit the floor pretty hard when she had collapsed. She looked around her with disorientation, and brought her hand to her head. It still hurt a bit. “Where am I?” she asked, once Willow’s face cleared up before her.

“In my dorm room,” Willow replied, “I asked Xander and Giles to help me move you here after you'd fainted. You were out all night. I started to think something was wrong with you. It’s 10AM now. You kinda scared me, you know.”

“Why?” Buffy sat up, still holding on to her head.

“I thought we had to talk.”

“I don’t wanna talk to any one of you. I can’t believe I once called you my friends.” She tried to stand up, but felt dizzy and almost fell, when Willow caught her in the last minute, seating her back on the bed. Buffy pushed her away. “Don’t touch me!” she muttered.

Willow backed off obediently. It hurt her to see Buffy like that. “I’m sorry.”

“Which one of us are you trying to convince with that?” Buffy asked sarcastically. “Know something, Willow? You were the LAST person I expected to do this to me,” she stated accusingly.

“Buffy, I’m sorry,” Willow pleaded, “you might not believe me, but it doesn’t change the fact that I am. Buffy, I never would have gone through with it if I had known the upshot would be…" she paused and closed her eyes, she was ashamed to even look at Buffy, "this. I would never hurt you on purpose, you gotta know that.”

“So? What does it matter what you would have done? What matters is what you DID!” Buffy felt much stronger physically now, but emotionally, much much weaker. Tears started in her eyes again. Willow embraced her, and to her surprise, the Slayer didn’t recoil this time. Buffy leaned into her best friend’s hug, and silently cried into her shoulder. “Why did they do this to me, Willow? Why?” she sobbed.

Willow couldn’t find the words to answer her. What could she possibly say to mend her broken heart? Nothing. She could just hold her and let her blubber.

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After Buffy had calmed down, and Willow had brought her a glass of water to drink, the two of them perched on the floor in the middle of the room, preparing for a talk.

“I try to find something to tell you, but I can’t think of anything. I’m suddenly speechless. You were gone for so long…I feel I barely know you anymore,” the redhead came clean.

Buffy smiled feebly. She felt so too. Maybe the nickname ‘best friends’ wasn’t really applying to them anymore. It’d been too long. “I know, Will.”

“Would you like to…well, to tell me, you know, about your life there?”

A glimpse of pain flashed in Buffy’s eyes. Even though the tears had dried out by now, they threatened to come back.

“You do…you don’t have to,” Willow amended quickly.

“It’s okay,” Buffy assured, but wasn’t really credible. She thought of her love again, it immediately brought a smile to her tear streaked face.

“You…you said you were married,” Willow impelled.

Buffy nodded.

“To whom? Is he…is he nice?”

Buffy beamed. “He’s wonderful. He’s the most wonderful man I have ever met, Will. I married the love of my life.”

Willow brought her hand to her mouth. “Oh, God.”

Buffy nodded at the insight on Willow’s face.

“You and Angel,” Willow construed, “somehow…I’m not surprised. Gosh, you and Angel. Wherever you are, you would find each other, wouldn’t you? No matter what lifetime it is.”

“We would,” Buffy beamed.

“Is he good to you?"

“Willow, he’s wonderful. I told you, he’s Angel. What else do I gotta add to convince you?”

“Is he…is he the same? The same as the one I remember?”

“Yeah. He’s timeless, Willow. You know, it seems that the more perfect they are as people, the more vicious vampires they become. Get my point?”

Willow beamed. “Yeah. I see you got your dream, after all. You and Angel.”

“I didn’t get my dream. Willow, I got more. I got things I didn’t even dare to dream about. Willow, thanks to him, I’m the happiest person in the world,” Buffy looked away, “I was.”

Willow felt her own heart breaking. She put her hand kindly on Buffy’s arm. “Were you really that happy?”

Buffy sniffled. “I was happier. You can’t put into words just how happy I was.”

Willow smiled. “And…your son? You said you had a son.”

Buffy beamed from ear to ear. “He’s my treasure, he and his father. They are the best thing that ever happened to me.”

“He must be a handsome baby.”

“He is. He’s gorgeous. His name is Daniel.”

“Daniel,” Willow reiterated, “a beautiful name. Who chose it?”

“We both did.”

“He took good care of you, right? You never lacked anything?”

“He’s the most loving and caring person in the world. He gave me everything he had, everything I could ever want and more.”

“I’m sure he did,” Willow grinned, just as Buffy’s face fell.

“And I left him. I left him alone.” The tears ran freely again. “I left him! He doesn't even know what hit him, God, he must be going crazy right now! Willow, I can’t do this!”

Willow hugged her again. “Shh…” she whispered.

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When Buffy was calmer, Willow spoke again. “I wish I could see all that. I wish I could see you happy. I wish I could see your family.”

Buffy sniffed and smiled forlornly. “You want to?”

Willow beamed. “Of course! There is a way?”

“Are you still a computer’s freak, Will? I sure hope that hasn’t changed,” she tried to joke, but her countenance wasn’t really collaborating with her mouth. She knew her friend was trying to make her feel better, but it just wasn’t working. The only thing that was on her mind was that she would never see Angel and Daniel again.

“Sure thing! And a witch too! I once found some articles on witchcraft on the net and just got swayed with that ever since.”

“Well, get your laptop and go online,” Buffy charged.

Willow didn’t understand what for, but did what her friend had asked her to.

Once she had logged onto the Internet, Buffy guided her further. “Can you find a site about…I don’t know, something about Irish history, or whatever?”

“Sure. Just give me a sec.”

The two friends were focused on the screen when the page finished to upload. “Umm…there are a few…hundreds.”

“Diminish it to something about the aristocrats of the eighteenth century or something like that. Can you do that?”

“Coming right up. Where’re we going with that, anyway?” “About four months ago, Angel ordered a portrait of the three of us. He once told me it would probably appear in some history book, cuz his family was an ancient line and all.”

“Oh!” Willow exclaimed. “So, we’re a high society now!” she beamed at Buffy.

Buffy smiled. “Yeah.”

“Here! Got it. God, could you believe they actually keep records about people who died over two centuries ago? What’s your surname?”

“O’Brien.”

“O’Brien,” Willow repeated, while typing the word, “O’Brien. Boy, there’s an O’Brien’s dynasty that goes way back to the eleventh century, no wonder they’re on the web, must be eminent guys. They exist up till today. Yours?”

Buffy nodded.

“Umm…okay. Angel…there is no ‘Angel’. There is an ‘Angelus’ though, but he can’t be the one we’re looking for. He’d be too old.”

“His name wasn’t ‘Angel’.”

“It wasn’t?” Willow asked in wonder.

“No. Look for ‘Liam’, or better try ‘William’.”

“Yep! Here it is! William Angelus O’Brien.”

Buffy and Willow anxiously waited for the page to load. “It is Angel, alright,” Willow confirmed, “look at that,” she pointed on something written on the computer screen and started to read. “William Angelus O’Brien, the twenty second Duke of the O’Brien’s…umm…here. Married to…Buffy Anne Summers.” Willow peered at her friend with amazement and turned back to the screen. “Father of Daniel William O’Brien, the twenty third Duke...hey, you said you had only one child, here you have…six.”

“He must have remarried,” Buffy said melancholically.

“No, he hadn’t. He had only one wife he had lived his whole life with and it was you.”

Buffy gasped. "Oh, God, Willow, he didn't..."

Willow shook her head. "No! According to what's here, he died very old."

“Then, I don’t understand.”

“But I do.” Willow shut down the laptop, and Buffy gazed at her with surprise. “It’s meant to be.”

Buffy still stared at her.

Willow smiled sadly. “You were meant to be, Buffy. You were right, you don’t belong here. You belong there, with Angel, with your kids, with your family. We had no right to do what we did. God, now that I think about it, we almost destroyed your whole future, your whole life...”

Before Buffy could say anything, Willow stood up, and returned after a minute with a spell book.

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“Giles would kill me. He thinks that the Slayer…that you belong on the Hellmouth. In this time, when you are needed, not two hundred and fifty years back. He’d kill me if he knew what I was doing. But he’s not gonna know, don’t worry. After I’ll finish with you, no one’s gonna know. I’ll erase all the memories that aren’t supposed to be in our heads and we won’t even know there ever was a girl named Buffy. We will only know there was a Slayer, who died when she was sixteen.”

Buffy hugged her best friend. Willow was crying when she pulled back. “Thank you so much, Will. I don’t know what I would do if I didn’t see him for the rest of my life.”

“I know. I won’t let them do this to you. I…I want you to be happy. This is all I want.”

Buffy kissed her cheek. “You’re my best friend, Will.”

“And you're mine,” Willow smiled. There was nothing but honesty in both of their avowals. “But you have a different life. You have a husband and children who love you. You have a happy life. If I hold the power to let you live it, how can I deny you?”

“Thank you. I love you, Will.”

“I love you too. Now…I’ll send you back to the one who loves you even more.”

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After Buffy had disappeared, Willow turned the laptop on again, and returned to the site. She found a scanned picture there. Angel was standing proudly behind a chair on which Buffy was sitting, cradling a small child in her arms. They were all beaming joyfully. Buffy was so happy. Willow smiled at that image, she knew she had done the right thing.

After Willow had recited some lines from her spell book, she looked at the computer screen again. *Is it just me or is there something REALLY familiar about that woman?* but she shrugged off that thought. *Probably some sort of a deja vu. Since when am I interested in the rich guys of the Irish history anyway?*

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Buffy found herself on the beach again. A sensation of familiarity and belonging swept over her. She was home. Even the dress wasn’t too heavy all of a sudden. She scanned the vicinity for Angel, but he wasn’t there. There was no indication he'd ever been there at all. The shore was vacant. Buffy headed straight home.

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When she opened the large doors and stepped in, she knew straight away something was wrong. Everything was quiet, too quiet. The mansion had never been that soundless before. It was as if everyone was in some sort of grief over someone. *Oh, God, I hope he hasn’t done something stupid!* was the first thing that crept to her mind. *I don’t know what I’m gonna do if I lose him.* She ran up to their bedroom to check whether he were there.

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Buffy opened the door inaudibly, and sneaked a look inside. She shuddered at the sight she found. Angel was lying on the bed; dehydrated tears’ traces were starting in the corners of his eyes, as he was sorrowfully staring at a large drawing of the three of them that was hanged on the opposite wall above the fireplace. Daniel was resting on his chest silently, face down, sucking at his father’s finger, while Angel was lightly caressing his back with his other hand. He didn’t see she was standing there. He was just scrutinizing her smiling face on the picture.

Buffy sighed sadly. She felt like crying.

Suddenly, the baby started to bawl, and Angel wrapped his arms around him, gently kissing his little head. “Shh…” he kept whispering, “shh…I…I wish she were here too. B…but you see…” he tried to reason with the child, tried to explain to both of them that his mother wasn’t coming back. He missed her too. He missed her too much to be able to live without her. “Your mother…she came from a different place. Yes, from another place…” he sniffled, kissing the child’s head again, “well, they…they wanted her back. It was not her fault. She loved you. And she loved me too… But…but she will not…she will not come back. I am sorry.” His son wouldn’t stop whimpering. Angel patted on his back gently, and hugged him again, desperately endeavoring to recall what his wife would have done. “Please, please stop crying,” he implored. He felt he was going to cry too. Angel closed his eyes to thwart the tears.

Buffy couldn’t stand it anymore. She paced over to the bed.

She hesitated at first, but then sat down on it. Angel opened his eyes at once. He gawked at her, unable to speak.

Buffy didn’t say a word as well. She reached for Daniel, and Angel let her take him into her arms, and sway him until he became quiet, not averting his eyes from her the entire time.

Finally, he sat up. “Buffy…” he said softly, reaching a trembling hand to the face he dreaded he’d never see again. When he touched her skin, he knew she was real. “Oh, God, Buffy!” he whispered. “I thought…I thought I would never see you again…oh, God…my love, I thought I lost you forever!” he gathered her and Daniel into his embrace, enclosing his arms tighter and tighter around them, while she wrapped her free arm around him, vowing to never leave that loving cuddle again.

When Angel finally released her, Buffy put Daniel into his crib that stood by the bed, kissing him on the forehead, and tucked him in dotingly. Then she looked back at Angel.

“I thought they took you away from me,” he admitted.

Buffy caressed his cheek. “No one will ever take me away from you,” she promised, “not ever again. I will never leave you again.” And then her calmness finally broke. All the fear and all the stress that was stored in her was finally out as she threw herself into her lover's arms. She was SO close to losing him. He enfolded his arms possessively around his most priceless treasure. “I dreamt about you,” he imparted her, “it was horrible. I finally experienced what it was like to dream about you, knowing I would not find you once I woke up. I feared I would never hold you in my arms again, never feel you again…never tell you that I love you,” he stroked her hair.

Buffy let her salty tears drench into his shirt, knowing that while she’s in those arms, it would be the last time she would ever cry. “When they…they didn’t want to bring me back at first. They said I would never see you again. I wanted to die when they said that. I felt the entire world collapsing on me. I felt…like there was no purpose anymore. The only thing I could focus on was that I would never tell you just how much I loved you.”

“But they will not…they will not cast that spell again? They will not take you away again?”

“No. They can’t. My best friend made sure it would never happen again. I trust her.” Buffy kissed him tenderly. “I promised I’d never leave you, my love,” she whispered, “and I never break my promises. Especially when I promise them to you. I love you so much!”

“Me too, beloved,” he hugged her and smiled, kissing the softness of her golden hair, “I love you too.”

Buffy smiled back, and met his lips in a kiss. As they wrapped their arms around each other again, they were the two happiest people in the world.

Part Thirty

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Ilana raised her hand hesitantly to knock on the door, but dropped it right back. She leaned forward and pressed her ear to the door, in a hollow attempt to try to detect any voices from inside the room. She heard nothing. Absolute silence. Ilana sighed and reluctantly moved away from the door, inclining her back on the wall next to it. Many thoughts were running through her mind at the moment, and she didn't know to which one to cling first.

So much had changed in her life within the last two days, and neither one of these changes was for the better. Up until a couple of days ago, she had been so happy. The only thought that had filled her mind was that she was going to get married soon. The contracts had been signed, possessions had been given away. Almost everything was ready, and the preparations for her wedding to Harry Lockwood were nearly done. She was soon to become Lady Ilana Lockwood. Her dream would finally come true. She would finally marry, and not only marry, but to a man who respected and cherished her. No, he did not love her, or perhaps he did, Ilana wouldn't know. She knew she didn't love him though...and together with that, she held within her a strong faith she would learn how to. Maybe she didn't have her dream after all. Her dream was to have the same marriage as her brother and Buffy's. Yes, she wanted love. And they had it. They had love. And yet, Ilana could still smile, knowing that she, without a doubt, maintained the next best thing.

But her happiness wasn't to last. She had found herself not thinking at all about the wedding for the last couple of days. But then again, no one had been. She had even been considering postponing the wedding. It didn't seem as substantial anymore. Nothing seemed substantial anymore. It was manifest in the entire household. None of the others knew what had truly occurred, but they didn't need to. They felt, they had felt, ever since the second Liam had returned home without her. Ever since then, they had known something had been wrong, something terrible had transpired. None of them could ever guess that the time they would see her smiling, leaving to the beach with her husband and son, would be the last time they would ever see her at all. How could they ever guess?

Ilana sighed. She could recall it distinctly. She had been in her room then, working on the embroidery she and Buffy had been doing on Daniel's new blanket. She was teaching her needlework from time to time. Somehow, she had never thought someone like Buffy would ever be interested in needlework, but her brother's young and sprightly wife had never ceased to astonish her. Naturally, Ilana had needed to be very patient with her, because it had seemed like Buffy had never held a needle in her life, and Ilana couldn't help but secretly wonder about it, but her efforts had brought results in the end, and Buffy had been doing quite well. And of course, the fact that she'd tried as hard as she could, because it had been, after all, for her little son, had made it even more beautiful. It had come from the heart. *But now it will never be finished,* Ilana contemplated sadly. Now, Buffy's side of the blanket would remain undone. Forever.

Ilana remembered how she had raised her head from the embroidery, only to meet the anxious eyes of her little sister. "What happened?" she had asked, but all Laura could say was that Liam had been weeping in his room. Laura's confusion had become contagious and Ilana had stood up, dropping the fabric and the needle to the floor. "Why?" she had asked.

"I do not know," Laura had said.

"Where is Buffy?"

"I do not know…"

And then she had gone to see him. Laura had been right, he had been crying. He had been, and Ilana hadn't understood. What could ever happen to make her big brother cry? A recollection from their father's funeral had sprung to mind, but she had dismissed it. Alright, she could somehow understand it, it had been his father's death. But now…what had happened now?

He had been alone in his room, lying on the bed, and staring far away into space with his teary eyes.

"Liam?" she had spoken hesitantly. "Laura told me something was wrong." He hadn't turned to look at her, but she'd gone on regardless. "What is the matter?"

He'd slowly averted his eyes from the wall and regarded her.

Ilana had shivered. She had never seen so much pain and despair in a person's eyes before. She had swallowed. "Where is Buffy, Liam?"

He had closed his eyes for a moment and turned away from her. "She is gone," he had said quietly.

"Gone?" Ilana hadn't comprehended. "Gone where? Whatever do you mean?"

"Gone. Gone back," he had said, "gone forever."

Ilana had gasped. "Oh, Lord. She is not dead, is she?" she had brought her hand to cover her mouth, just as her eyes had widened in horror.

A weak, empty smile had spread across his lips. "No, Ilana, she is not dead. But it is the same as if she were," he'd sighed, as another tear cascaded from the corner of his eye.

"Thank God," Lana had murmured to herself. She had sat down in the chair by the bed and gazed at her brother. "Liam, what is happening? I beg you, tell me. I cannot see you like this." And she hadn't lied. She truly couldn't.

He had turned to her again. "Tell you? What can I tell you, Ilana? The truth?"

She'd perceived a derisive hint in his voice she hadn't liked. "Why, of course."

He had chuckled bitterly. Too bitterly, she had observed. His orbs, which she had once remembered as shining, had been vacant. Nothing had been in them anymore. No life, no hopes, no happiness…but there had still been the love. That same love that had been shimmering in them ever since SHE had come into their lives, HIS life. The love had still been there, but even that light had been slowly dying away…

Now, as she was standing with her back against the wall near his bedroom door, she still couldn't absorb the things he had told her then. She couldn't accept it. It could not be true. Ilana had even assumed he'd been crazy for a spell, while he'd been telling her everything. The truth. She had asked for the truth, and he had told her. He had told her about the future, about the Slayer, about Buffy…all the secrets about the love of his life no one but him had known, he had revealed to Ilana. So, now she knew. But she still didn't know how to deal with that knowledge, or how to use it correctly. The future…two-hundred-and-forty-eight years into the future. Ilana just couldn't bring herself to grasp it. The second she'd heard it, she'd avowed she would never tell it to a living soul. It'd made no sense whatsoever, but somehow, she'd believed every word her brother had said. And that had been when he had said words, because after talking to her and telling her everything, he had abruptly requested her to leave. Since that minute had been two days, and he hadn't spoken to anyone. He had never come out of his room too, except for these times when he needed fresh milk to feed his son, but even then, he'd spoken to no one. He'd refused to see anyone, and he'd refused to eat. For Ilana, it had again brought back the time when their father had passed away, only now it had been much worse. And if that hadn't been enough, THEN, he had had Buffy to pull him out of it, to hold him strong. Now, it had been all about Buffy. Buffy was gone, and it'd seemed more and more that he was gone with her. And in a way, he truly was. He'd cared for no one but his little son, and wanted nothing and no one but him around. He had locked the doors of his bedroom, and had stayed there with him, not even once coming out, only when the child would become hungry. It scared Ilana. It scared her much more than she could put into words, but altogether with that, there was nothing she could do. His Buffy was gone. What could she ever do?

She pushed herself from the wall, and gazed once more at the door of his room. *He would not want to see me anyway,* she sighed melancholically, slowly retreating from there.

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Angel turned restlessly in his slumber, as his arms searched instinctively for the person who fitted in them so perfectly, but found nothing instead. The second he acknowledged that nothingness, he jolted up in his bed, and his eyes roamed in panic about the dark bedroom. She wasn't there. The room, and the bed, and his arms, were empty. She wasn't there. Angel felt tears welling up in his eyes again. It had been merely a dream. She had never come back to him, she had never held him, she had never kissed him, and she had never promised him she'd never leave again, and she had never never fallen asleep in his arms. Never. It had been just a dream. "No…oh, God, no…" he whispered desperately, trying to negate his reality. He couldn't deal with any more dreams. He needed her. He loved her so much…

Angel hid his face in his hands, suppressing a sob, and he was still alone in that dusky room, as Buffy's words echoed in his mind.

// “I promised I’d never leave you, my love. And I never break my promises. Especially when I promise them to you.” //

But he knew better now, didn't he? It had only been a dream.

Part Thirty-One

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Make believing we're together
That I'm sheltered by your heart
But in and outside I turn to water
Like a teardrop in your palm
And it's a hard winter's day
I dream away

- Roxette, 'It Must Have Been Love'

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Angel looked up, and drew his knees to his chest, embracing them. He might as well get used to it. It'd be easier than a state of a constant denial. He brought the back of his hand to his face to wipe the remnants of tears, just when the bedroom's door was silently opened.

He gyrated his head to look at the newcomer, and it seemed his heart had stopped. Angel gawked at her, with astonishment he would never be able to depict, as her small frame merged with the other shadows of the room. He couldn't voice a word. Without drawing his eyes from her, he abstractly tweaked himself until his arm started to ache from the pinches, only to make sure he was fully awake this time, because another dream would for sure drive him over the edge. One more – would be one too many.

She didn't discern him. She entered the room quietly, and closed the door behind her. Buffy quickly took off her gown, and tiredly tossed it to the nearest armchair. She was spent. She had no idea what had driven her to this, but it had been an abrupt impulse she had never thought of counteracting. She had WANTED to go. As strange as it was, she had wanted to. She had fallen asleep in her love's arms, in the arms of her Angel, and she swore she'd never leave those arms again. And she hadn't been going to. Nothing could make her leave. Apparently, nothing except for the inexplicable urge to slay in the middle of the night, following to which, she'd found herself outside, hunting down vampires. Buffy really didn't know why she was doing that. After all, she had quitted a long while ago. Her slaying life had been left far behind. It was her past now. And moreover, this was a generation, wasn't it? That meant that there was a Slayer out there, she wasn't as needed anymore. She could go live her life in peace. She didn't have to fight demons any more than she already had. But it was too much, it was a call she could not say 'no' to, an inner drive she could never resist.

After changing into a silky white nightgown, she spun around and made one step towards the bed. Buffy stopped, however, when she found Angel sitting on it, gaping at her. She wasn't able to descry his accurate mien in the dark, so she merely smiled sheepishly.

"Hi," she said quietly, "waited for me?" When she received no reply, she went on, raising her palm in indication to let her speak and listen. "Don't say anything," she was saying, while pacing back and forth in front of him, "I know everything you're gonna say by heart, really. I shouldn't slay, I shouldn't get out in the night, it's dangerous…but let's cut through this, okay? I'm sorry I sneaked out like that, but I just had to, I mean, I don't get it too sometimes. It's becoming like a rehab of sorts. It's weird, you know, I feel like I can't…"

He didn't let her finish her little speech, when he suddenly launched from the bed, and wrapped his arms around her tighter than ever, kissing every spot of her body his mouth could reach while in that stance.

She, of course, returned his hug equally, but was a bit perplexed. "Okay, you couldn't have been THAT worried," she joked, as she embraced him back. But abruptly, it hit her. Her eyes widened with realization and she tightened her arms around him, when she felt his tears on her neck. "Angel, it isn't a dream," she whispered mellowly, stroking his nape and back, "honey, I'm here. I'm really here, and I'm not going anywhere. I'm not leaving. I already promised, and I meant it. I'll never leave you again." She drew back, and peered into his deep glistening orbs. Buffy reached her hand and gently brushed his tears away. Angel closed his eyes in indubitable surrender to her tenderness. She cupped his face with her both hands and beheld him lovingly, until he reopened his eyes and met hers. "I'm here to stay," she assured softly, "and this isn't a dream." One of her hands wandered to his nape, inclining his head down. "If it were a dream," Buffy whispered, when their lips were not more than an inch away, their eyes already half closed. She lowered his head more, to close the remaining gap between their mouths, and for the next minute, they were engaged in the most tender of kisses. When they drew apart, and their eyes met again, she finished her question. "Could you be feeling this?"

Angel hugged her, holding her against him, like there was no force in the universe that could drive them apart, and she leaned snugly into his wide bare chest, snaking her arms around his back. Abruptly, he scooped her up in his arms, as if she were as light as a feather, and carried her to the bed, gingerly reposing her amid the satiny and silky sheets and cushions. Then, he too climbed in, and lay down next to her, pulling her into his arms, inwardly swearing to never let her go again. And she huddled in his embrace, relishing the so familiar heat of his body swathing her wholly, closing her eyes against her own threatening tears, inhaling as much of his scent as she could perceive, and burrowing her face in his protective chest. There were no words to describe how much she loved this man who now held her so gently and possessively in his loving embrace, and how much even the possibility of spending the rest of her life without him, tore her apart.

"I love you, Angel," she whispered, her voice muffled with her tears, and with his chest, but clear to his ears nonetheless.

It was merely the sound of his name on her lips. The unconditional love and tenderness she uttered it with, caused his entire body to tingle in the most delightful manner, filled his heart with so much bliss and joy. All it took was only the sound of her saying his name. "I love you," he replied softly, holding his beloved close to his heart.

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Buffy opened her eyes with already a smile on her lips, when the cry of her little son woke her up the following morning. She stretched in her lover's embrace, and rolled on her side, his arms dropping off of her in the process. She felt as if a part in her smothered when she lost physical contact with him. Oddly as it was, it felt strange, not to feel him. It was a sensation she didn't like. But the other part of her was thrilled. In a second, she'd feel the closeness of her second angel. Her little baby. Buffy missed him so much. That tiny person who was such an enormous part of her. Who, together with his father, was everything to her.

She leaned over, and took him out of his crib, cradling him in her arms, and rocking him, to calm him down. "Shh…" she kept whispering in her softest voice, as she bent down and tenderly kissed his tiny head, "it's your mommy. Mommy's here, sweetie." She kissed his head again, and cuddled him closer. He finally quieted, his large eyes meeting similar ones on his mother's face, as they both smiled at each other. She tickled under his chin gently and he closed his eyes. Buffy unlaced her nightgown, and exposed her breast, and he immediately seized it with his little hands, sticking her nipple into his mouth, gulping hungrily. Buffy sighed, and leaned back on the pillows of her bed, her hand that wasn't cradling Daniel, was gently stroking his head, as he sucked on and on. When she felt he had had enough, she gently removed him from her breast, and he nestled in her lap. Buffy reposed him between her and Angel, and lay down herself, cradling him right back in her arms.

She was about to burp him, when abruptly, a mischievous grin emerged on her face, and she picked him up, laying him on her husband's chest, face down. Angel instinctively draped one arm around him, but went on sleeping.

Buffy propped her head on her elbow, and just lay there, watching them both.

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After a short while, her patience resulted. Daniel shifted on his father's chest, belching silently. She giggled, bringing one hand to cover her mouth, when her husband suddenly woke up to the sound.

Angel raised his head and peered at the baby on his chest, as if he hadn't even known until now that he had been there.

"Don't move," Buffy warned him, still giggling, but then, when what she had been waiting for didn't happen, she frowned, looking playfully disappointed.

"What is happening?" Angel asked her in wonder, still half-asleep, and certainly having no idea of what's going on.

"I'm trying to prove something here," she kept staring at their son, still expecting for something to happen, and still disappointed it hadn't.

"What, beloved?" he chuckled. The so uncharacteristic graveness of her face as she watched Daniel, could make him laugh in a way he wouldn't be able to stop, and he tried as hard as he could not to.

"Something very important. Why isn't he doing anything?" she now spoke with impish annoyance.

"May I ask what is it about?" he wanted to know. "And which part in it is mine?"

"He's just eaten, which means he's going to burp," she gestured towards the baby on his chest, "and he doesn't do it only because I'm not the one who's holding him. You see, I'm telling you, this deception he's playing on us is carefully planned. So, my conclusion is that babies are a lot smarter than they look, and that they don't act like it only cuz they wanna be left alone. So, my point is that if I were holding him now, he'd burp. He likes burping on me. Only."

Angel sniggered, but sobered again due to the sharp look he received from his wife.

"Don't you dare," she told him, her face solemn. But the smile behind her eyes, at the whole situation in general, that was amusing her just as much as it was amusing him, gave her true feelings away. "You know I'm right. See? He's not doing anything, and he wants to. Just look at this face," she gesticulated at their son's ostensibly sleeping face, "you can choose the bet, lover."

Angel laughed, and threw his head back on the pillows, and Buffy soon joined that laughter, dropping on the bed next to him, and snuggling closer. Then she lifted the baby from Angel's chest. "Behold the proof."

He rolled on his side, regarding her as she requested, but maintaining the amused smile on his lips. Both he and Buffy couldn't help but turning that smile into a wild laughter, when the second Daniel's face lay on her shoulder, he burped.

Angel sat up, took him in his arms, and gingerly reposed him on his chest. Daniel instantly fell asleep.

Buffy snuggled closer to Angel, and the arm that wasn't around their son, wrapped around her. Gazing up into his eyes, she raised her inverted palm, and grinned. "Pay up, honey."

Angel beamed, drawing her closer to him, and kissing her palm, and then her lips, both giggling between kisses.

Part Thirty-Two

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Ilana suddenly halted her walk, and revolved to her left. She blinked, and looked more carefully. She had to make sure she was seeing right and that it wasn't just her mind toying with her emotions.

She was simply passing by the kitchen, in search for one of the housemaids, and the sight she came across there was everything BUT expected, yet only in the good way. She scrutinized the person before her. The last time she had seen him was yesterday afternoon, when he went down here to warm up some fresh cow's milk to feed Daniel. All Ilana was able to recollect from that brief encounter was a man in his late twenties, who instead of looking as young as he was, had looked old and fatigued, dressed in untidy clothes, and with loose hair, absolutely unlike had been expected from a man of his station. However, as much as that vision had scared her, it could be understood, in light of the circumstances, and now this… Ilana couldn't help but smile at this, but at the same time she was terrified. What on earth could have caused this?! Formerly, he had been, at least, grieving through woe, but now…now, he was grieving through denial? There was no wonder it scared her.

"Liam?" Ilana hesitantly uttered his name, but remained where she was.

He was standing by the large oak kitchen table, extremely absorbed in something, probably making food. *He is eating?* she wondered. *Thank God he is eating again. He has not eaten for over two days…* He was also surprisingly neatly dressed, with a white blouse, and blue pants and shoes, with white stockings and white waistcoat, buttoned in the front, that outlined his well built manly frame. His light brown hair was smoothly gathered and fastened with a large white ribbon. *Now, he looks like a Duke,* Ilana noted happily to herself.

Angel faced her for only a moment, but even so, she could fully catch the smile lighting his face. "Good morning, Ilana," he said, and turned right back to what he had been doing before she had interrupted him.

She gulped, unsure of what to do next, and came up behind him.

"I did not expect to find you here," he observed, not removing his attention from his work. At the moment, he was trying to decide which cupcake of those in the large dish, looked the tastiest to include in the breakfast he was assembling on a silver tray.

Ilana knew what he meant. Only servants were expected to be found in the kitchen, but however, she had seen HIM there on numerous occasions in the past, when he had been…Ilana gulped, and took a deep breath. Well, she would never see him doing THAT again. There was no one to make the breakfast for anymore…

"I am glad you are eating," she told him softly.

He finally made up his mind on really THE most appetizing and delicious pastry, and carefully reposed it in the middle of a lacy paper doily on a porcelain saucer on the platter. Then he took the beautiful white rose that lay on the table, and stuck it in a gangly vase, standing it next to the plate with the cake and the other foods on the tray. As he was inspecting his work for the final time, to see if anything was missing, he replied. "It is not for me."

"But I assumed…" Ilana looked puzzled, "who is it for, then?"

"My wife," Angel grinned. His wife. He was so happy to call her 'his wife'. Merely the concept that it hadn't been so long ago that she almost hadn't been 'his wife' anymore, initiated chills all through his body, even though it was no longer relevant. He shrugged it off. "She will be hungry when she wakes up," he added, his thoughts instantly drifting to the treasure he had left sleeping in the bedroom upstairs.

Ilana looked down sorrowfully. His state was obviously much worse than she had presumed in the first place. Much, much worse. He was into a complete, pathological, denial. She almost wished he'd come back to the grieving apathetic widower he used to be, because, in all senses that mattered, that's what he was. She looked back up. Her heart broke for her brother. A part of her was, at this very moment, happy for being neither loved nor in love like him. Only by the anguished mien on his unaware face when he had strode past her yesterday, so oblivious to his surroundings that he hadn't even noticed her, she could learn just how great was the pain this love could inflict on one once it was lost. Ilana wished there was some way to help him, but all she could say was the truth. "Buffy is gone, Liam. She is not here. She never will be. She is gone."

He merely smiled at her, as he paced past her, gingerly holding the loaded tray in his both hands.

Ilana sighed and followed, as they were heading towards his bedroom.

When they were near the door, Angel motioned for her to be quiet once inside. She nodded, inwardly hoping it was his son he didn't want to awake, and not the ghost of his wife.

Angel slowly opened the door, and they entered quietly, with Ilana closing it behind them.

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She couldn't forestall the gasp of pure astonishment, when the woman sleeping in the bed, cradling a small baby, came into her view. Her hand flew to her mouth, as tears appeared in her eyes. If Angel hadn't moved out of the way in time, Ilana would have caused him to lose balance and topple to the floor together with the tray, when she stumbled backwards in her shock.

Buffy almost woke to the sound of Ilana's gasp, but she merely reinforced her embrace around her son and folded her knees under her long white nightgown.

Angel reposed the tray on a small table, and hastened to gently cover his sleeping love and child from the slight morning chill, and tenderly kissed their foreheads, smoothing her golden hair back from her face, as she moaned with pleasure under his touch, and curved her lips up in a genuine smile even in her sleep. After he had covered her, he returned to Ilana, who was still standing there with her hand on her mouth, her eyes gaping unbelievingly at the woman slumbering on the bed.

"What is…Liam, what is happening?" she inquired ultimately. "She…she is here," she shakily pointed at Buffy.

"Yes, she is," Angel beamed, talking to Ilana, but looking at his wife.

"How?"

He shrugged, still smiling. "I do not know, Ilana. I do not care. As long as she is with me again, I do not care."

At this very moment, Buffy stretched lazily and yawned. Angel strode back to the bed, and perched down next to her, driven by a strange urge to be there when she woke up. Buffy opened her eyes and peered at him.

"Hi," she purred, grinning. She tightened the soft blanket around her and sat up, careful not to awake Daniel, who remained sleeping amid the cushions. Pressing a gentle kiss to her husband's lips, she inclined her back against his chest. "Do I smell breakfast?" she inquired, closing her eyes a little and snuggling in her love's embrace, obviously still drowsy.

He chuckled, fastening his arms around her waist. Losing himself in her presence alone, in the smell of her hair, the sound of her voice, the beating of her heart… "It will soon be lunch, my dear," he pointed lightheartedly.

Abruptly, they both rotated with a start due to Ilana clearing her throat. Up until now, the woman had been clearly forgotten.

Buffy smiled. "Umm…Ilana…uhm…hi," she stuttered, unsure of which parts of her TRUE story had the other woman known by now, and even more importantly - IF she had.

Ilana opened her mouth, but was soon cut by her brother's wife.

"I know what you're wondering. Where I've been, right? Umm…well, you see, it's a long story, actually…what did you tell her?" she hissed in Angel's ear.

"The truth," he whispered back.

"Umm…right. So, Ilana, I…WHAT?!" she almost yelled out the word, when she jumped in Angel's arms with surprise.

He looked down, as if mortified. "I needed to…" he whispered, "I needed to talk to someone."

Buffy took a deep breath and encircled her arms around him. "It's okay," she said softly, laying her head on his chest, as he hugged her back, "so…you know," she turned back to her sister-in-law.

Ilana only nodded.

Buffy looked away, waiting for Ilana's unmistakably impending question.

"How did you come back?" she asked, as was predicted.

Buffy looked up at her, leaning back into Angel's chest, as he kissed her head. "The same spell, actually. Just like I got here the first time. The only difference is that this time I'm not leaving." She placed her hands on top of Angel's around her waist.

Ilana smiled sincerely. "I am glad, if so."

Buffy grinned too. "You're not mad at us, are you? For keeping you in the dark for such a long time? We should have told you…"

Ilana shook her head tenaciously. "No." After a brief lapse of silence, she went on. "I would like to talk to you, if it is possible. I feel I must learn so many things about you, I never even thought existed. There are so many questions I want to ask, and…"

Buffy beamed. A part of her breathed with relief Ilana was taking it so well. "Of course. I understand. We can talk now. That is, if you aren't busy," she rapidly added.

Ilana's face lit. "No! I am most certainly not!" she assured excitedly. "I shall be expecting you in my chamber." With that, she smiled at both of them, and left.

Buffy turned to face her husband. "That should be interesting," she grinned.

"Forgive me for giving away your secret," he apologized earnestly.

She beamed sweetly and stroked his cheek. "Sweetie, it's okay. I understand. And besides, I feel so much better now that she knows. It's kinda like another burden lifted, you know. We probably should have had this conversation months ago."

"Now it is not too late either," he beamed reassuringly.

"You wanna come? I can tolerate you there for moral support, if I really have to."

Angel chuckled at that. "I believe it is something you should do with her alone, beloved," he kissed the tip of her nose.

She shrugged, but smiled. "You're probably right," she said, while scrambling down from the bed and heading to inspect her breakfast.

Part Thirty-Three

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Buffy knocked on Ilana’s door hesitantly, and waited for her permission before entering.

Ilana greeted her with a smile, and Buffy occupied the armchair opposite to hers.

Abruptly, the two women rose from their seats and embraced each other for a long moment. After they pulled apart, they sat back down. All was performed wordlessly.

“I am truly happy you are back,” Ilana spoke first.

Buffy returned her smile. “Not half as happy as I am.”

“I was so concerned for him, Buffy,” Ilana spoke again, sincerely, after a spell of silence, “I think that…that if he did not have Daniel to live for, he…” she swallowed, and crossed herself quickly. “I will not even put it into words,” she whispered.

Buffy looked down. She reminisced of her own reaction to being told she would not be sent back, that she would not see Angel ever again, wouldn’t see Daniel…she remembered clearly how all she had wanted that moment was to die. Death seemed so promising then. She had thought that the only way for her to ever see him again would be in death. And now, she found out that as frightening as it was, she was right assuming so. If she didn’t come back...she wasn’t able to endure that thought. “I know what you mean,” she recognized silently.

“He loves you so much, Buffy. He was as if…”

“And you think I don’t? It wasn’t my fault, Ilana!” Buffy was nearly in tears now. “It wasn’t my fault,” she whispered more softly.

Ilana touched her arm kindly. “I know. I never for a second thought that it was. I never told you this, but,” she looked at her sincerely, “I love you, Buffy. I love you like you were my own sister.”

“Me too, Ilana,” Buffy told her, smiling. She had been seeing that woman like a sister for a long time now. She was more than happy to ascertain it was mutual.

Ilana smiled too. “I have to admit I disliked you when I first saw you. I thought you were only some maid who was after my brother’s fortune and enormous heritage, but…it took me only a day, to see just how mistaken I had been. I grew very fond of you in a very short time. You have become my best friend rather quickly. You have become a family. I do not think there is a living soul in this entire house who disfavors you, and I do not think any of them could ever stand you gone. And my brother…I do not know what Liam would do without you. There never was and never will be someone like you for him. You brought him to life, Buffy. As his sister, it is something I shall be forever grateful to you for. And me…there is nothing to say about me. The way you changed me…Buffy, you have made me do things I never thought I would do. You have made me see things I was too blind to see, and you have taught me to follow my heart. I owe you my life, because I can see now that what I had before you came, was not life. I…I had not understood many things about you before, before I learned of the truth. There were so many things I did not know the reason for, and I do now, and I hope to know more, if you tell me. I have so many things I wish for you to share with me. I do not even know where to begin.”

“Just start asking,” Buffy suggested.

Ilana took a deep breath. “Well,” she looked up at her, “for starters, why did you not tell me before?”

Buffy shrugged. “I guess I thought you wouldn’t understand, that you’d think I’m nuts or something.”

“Nuts?”

“Crazy...insane.”

“No, Buffy, I would never think so,” Ilana beamed, “and moreover, Buffy, we are Irish. We were born and raised on legends, myths, and magic. Our mythology is full of it. We are taught from day one that these things are real. Why on earth would I not believe you? Did you not find it a bit odd that Liam has never once questioned your story?”

Buffy smiled with a certain ease. “I guess, I shouldn’t have assumed. It’d probably be easier for all, if I just told you, wouldn’t it?”

“I presume you should have not, but it does not mean you cannot tell me now.”

Buffy nodded and smiled. “Wanna give me a starting point?”

Ilana chuckled. “Well, how about you would explain to me where that…language you use has come from? To tell you the truth, in the beginning I could not decipher half the things you were saying. I have learned your…strange words with time, and some of the various idioms you normally use, but…there are still things you say I cannot interpret. I swear, from time to time I think it would require a dictionary to understand you.”

Buffy giggled. “Want me to teach you? You know, I actually tried this on your brother once, but I think he still has a trauma from the word ‘horny’.”

“Well, it is someone with horns…does it have a further interpretation?”

“Not something you would ever pronounce, trust me. Look, Ilana, about how I speak. I get it that it’s not something you would hear every day, but that’s who I am. And by the way, believe it or not, but there are words you say I don’t understand either. No need to mention what happens when you speak Gaelic, that’s just something I don’t think I’ll ever get into my head. It’s a culture thing. You and I are from different ones, and that’s about the it.”

“Well…I suppose you are right. So, tell me about something else. For instance, tell me about where you were born, about your family. You see, I do not mean to pry, however I do want to know so many things. Liam has not told me much. I would like to know more. I would like to know where you come from, and the future…it sounds so exciting from what my brother has told me.”

Buffy shrugged. “I don’t know if exciting is the term, but…I guess, since you’ve never seen it, you might find it exciting, but to tell you the truth, for someone who was brought up in a place like this…I just don’t think you’d like it. Umm…okay. About me, now. I was born in America…” Buffy suddenly remembered that Ilana, like Angel, probably didn’t know where or what America was. “It’s a continent.”

“I have never heard of it,” Ilana confessed, “but I presume many things can change in over two centuries, such as a discovery of a new continent.”

Buffy shook her head. “No, it’s already been discovered.”

Ilana quirked a brow. “It has? By whom?”

Buffy frowned. “By a Columbus guy. Christopher Columbus.”

“Oh, yes! Yes, I have read he has discovered some new islands back in the fifth century. I think it is called ‘The New World’. Are these islands…America?”

Buffy nodded. “Pretty much. Only that these islands are only a tiny part of it. The whole continent is much larger.”

“Oh, well, I understand now. Please, do go on.”

“Right. So, in America there’s…or will be…man, it’s confusing,” Buffy frowned, “anyhow, there are states, you know, like smaller counties.”

“Oh, like Ireland for Europe?”

“Exactly. So, I was born in a state called California. In a city called LA.”

“LA? Such an odd name. Only two letters.”

Buffy grinned. “These are initials, they stand for Los Angeles. Sorry I confused you.”

“Oh, no, you have not. It is quite alright. I understand things were different in...when you come from,” Ilana smiled, eager for her to go on.

Buffy grinned. “Yeah, they were. Oh, and by the way, I beg you. Please, but please, don’t ever make me to repeat that story, because I think it’s confusing ME the most.”

Both women laughed.

“Well, did you have any brothers or sisters?”

Buffy shook her head. “Nope. I was an only kid. And believe me, my parents had one kid too many.”

“But you have just said you had no siblings.”

“My point exactly. It’s just as if they were married only cuz my mom got pregnant with me, you know. She was very young then.”

“How old was she? If you do not mind me…”

“No, it’s cool. Umm…I’m not really sure even. I’d say something along the lines of seventeen…eighteen, maybe. Yeah, something like that.”

Ilana beheld her confusedly. “But it is not young. Not at all.”

Buffy smiled. “No, I suppose here it isn’t. But everything is different there, remember?”

“Of course. I understand. Well, at least your father was noble and married her, am I right?”

Buffy reflected it for a short while. “Wrong, actually. Sometimes, I even wished I had a single mother. It’d really make everything so much easier, it's not like my dad was ever in my life, anyway. I’m serious. I really really don’t wanna sound overly dramatic, but...daddy was pretty much married to his work. My parents were bickering around the clock, nonstop, they never got along. You have no idea how relieved I was when they finally got divorced.”

Ilana covered her mouth with her hand, and her eyes widened. “Divorced? How could they?”

Buffy looked genuinely perplexed. “Don’t tell me people here never divorce. It so can’t be true.”

“Why, of course not. Do you have any idea what a scandal it would launch? Nobody ever divorces.”

“Weird,” Buffy stated naturally. “I don’t get it. People can’t stay married, but they do anyway, only not to initiate a scandal? What, you actually wanna tell me they prefer to remain miserable for the rest of their lives?”

Ilana shrugged. “I doubt they see it that way, but…yes, I suppose they do. Well, in any rate, we were raised according to different norms from yours. We see no fault in not having a divorce. So…I presume you stayed with your father, right?”

“Again, wrong. I moved out with my mom.”

“Your mother? But…but how could she have provided for you both?”

“I think I’ve missed your point somewhere.”

“Had she…had she worked? She could have not,” Ilana couldn’t believe.

Buffy had to laugh at her reaction. “Yeah, she had.”

“But…but she was a woman.”

“And?”

“Well, for once, who would hire a woman?”

Buffy giggled. “The same ones who would hire a man. These are two very different times, Ilana. It is only one of the so many distinctions.”

“You mean…women had truly worked? Like men? It is so strange,” she admitted, “Liam has told me, but I just could not believe. Did you…did you also had a tutor?”

“A tutor?”

“Yes, well, I only assumed that if women worked, they must have had tutors to teach them, like in school.”

“So, you mean school.”

“No, only men go to…you have been to school?”

“Yep. I even hold a proud record of mangling them. I burnt down the gym in one, got kicked out, got transferred to another, got kicked out again, and then blew it up. Am I an A-student, or what?” Buffy grinned.

“I cannot believe you went to school.” Ilana was as if she hadn’t heard anything of what Buffy had just told her. “I always wanted to, but I never could. There are no schools for girls. My father could only hire tutors for me and Laura.”

Buffy beheld her oddly. “Do you know you’re the....second person I’ve met who actually WANTS to go to school?”

“Well, it must be so exciting.”

“Oh, yeah. A thrill,” Buffy ridiculed, rolling her eyes, “please note it was a sarcastic joke.”

“You are the strangest person. Perhaps I think of it as exciting because I was never there, but then Liam was, and he told me it was wonderful to learn all these new things.”

"Okay, you're right, make it third person," Buffy beamed. “He was always like that. So smart and intelligent, I mean. It was one of the reasons why I fell in love with him, believe it or not. He's the complete opposite of me in that department, I never was a learning gal. As far as I go, there’s only one thing to say; I had twelve years in school, and almost a full year in college, and it was so much more than enough. Really. The only real fun part in school is that you can get together with your friends for the time being, but that's pretty much where it ends.”

“Alright,” Ilana smiled, “I see you wish to change the subject.”

“Please, do,” Buffy beamed in acknowledgement. “You know, as exciting as it might be, school really is the last on my list of favorite topics for discussion.”

Ilana pondered for a second, then spoke again. “You know…until Liam explained everything, I could never understand why you insisted on calling him Angel. The only ones who ever used this name on him were Thomas and our father, when Liam was a little boy, and also I, when I was only a girl. I could never understand why you would want to call him that, nor could I understand why you have been calling him so ever since you have met him, as if you did not know his true name, as if you only knew him as Angel.”

Buffy shrugged, smiling. THIS was certainly the first in her list of favorite topics for discussion. “I did know him as Angel. He has probably told you that, hasn’t he? Has he told you all about me…and the future him?”

Ilana nodded. “Well, he has partly. He has not told much, only a bit. I think it, in a way, hurt him to speak of you. I would like to hear more, of course. And moreover, it is always better to hear it from the source.”

“I called him Angel, because that’s the name he gave me when I first asked him for his name. He never told me his human name. I just didn’t know it. And anyway, he is my angel," Buffy beamed, "he always has been, and always will be. That’s to why I kept calling him Angel even after learning his real name was Liam. It’s not only because I knew him as Angel, it’s because this is the only name I can see to fit him.”

Ilana grinned. She could clearly perceive the hidden glimpse of love in Buffy’s eyes as she was talking about her brother, and she knew exactly to whom her thoughts had drifted.

Both women started, hearing a knock on the door.

“Come in,” Ilana permitted.

A brilliant smile spread across Buffy’s features when her gaze lay on her husband. Her sister-in-law didn’t miss it.

“I assume you are here to join us,” Ilana observed.

He nodded, his eyes locked with his wife. “Only if you do not mind.”

Ilana smiled, briefly thinking back to the times when these two had appeared to her as if they were inseparable. Now she knew it for a fact. There was no doubt they were. “You know I do not,” she assured him, “please, come sit with us.”

He beamed, sitting down on a sofa, just as Buffy rose from her seat, and joined him there, practically in his lap. He wrapped one arm around her waist, placing a soft kiss in her hair.

Ilana blushed slightly at first, but it faded promptly. She had over a year to get used to Buffy and her brother’s exceptional manners. They were obviously too in love to care whether what they were doing was appropriate or not. He was such a different person thanks to her, and in a good way only. Buffy had done wonders with her brother ever since she'd appeared in his life. Ilana couldn’t deny that.

Part Thirty-Four

NOTE - leannan = sweetheart

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Angel gazed up from the multiple papers in his lap, to find his wife sauntering into the room.

"I have to ask you something," she announced, proceeding towards him, "I think Ilana should have white Lilies as her bridal flowers, but for some reason she wants Daisies. I think she'd look so much better surrounded with Lilies, and I really don't picture the whole 'filling the house with Daisies' thing, but this is my opinion. What do you think? We need an outsider to adjudge."

He shrugged. "Well, I agree with you about Lilies, however, my sister has always loved Daisies. I cannot say I am surprised from her wish to use them. And moreover, she is the bride, so the final decision would be hers, anyway. I do have an idea of my own, but I doubt she would use it. Why would you not try both? It might be an interesting molding."

Buffy considered it for a second and then beamed. "You know, it might actually work out. I'm gonna tell her right now." She turned to leave, but rotated to face him as quickly as she faced away. "Oh, honey, did you want something? Thomas said you were looking for me."

"It can wait," he smiled reassuringly. He could see how wrapped up she was in his sister's wedding. At least, he could be grateful it took her mind off of whatever had been badgering her so much recently. He knew she would talk to him eventually. He wouldn't push her; he had no reason to. He was certain she'd come to him whenever she was ready.

Buffy peered at him doubtfully. "Are you sure?" she inquired. "Because Ilana can wait, it's not like it's that urgent. We still have a few days until the wedding, and flowers are all we have left to decide upon. Oh, wait," she recalled suddenly, "there is also the food! She has less than a week, and she hasn't made up her mind on the refreshments yet!" Buffy's eyes widened for only a brief moment, but then she grinned sheepishly, meeting Angel's smiling gaze. "Sorry," she apologized, "I guess I'm way more into that whole wedding thing than I thought I was. You know, Ilana's wedding preparations remind me so much of ours."

"I know what you mean," he smiled.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When Buffy returned to the main parlor downstairs to her sister-in-law, her mood wasn't as sprightly anymore for some reason. She looked withdrawn and even a little unhappy, but still managed a smile for Ilana when she met her eyes.

Ilana saw right through it, however. She put the bouquets of flowers she'd been holding in her lap and concentrated on Buffy.

"He is suspecting something, is he not?" she questioned knowingly.

Buffy sighed and nodded, landing into the armchair opposite to Ilana.

"I do not understand. Why cannot you tell him? You have told me. How much difference can it make?"

"If I tell him, he either will take it the wrong way, or will be hurt and won't show it. Either way, he's gonna get hurt, and the last thing I need is for him to feel guilty about something he had no control over whatsoever. And trust me, I know your brother, he'll do just that. No, I can't tell him, Ilana, it's really out of the question."

Ilana shrugged. "I cannot understand your concerns. Honestly, you are worrying for nothing. In my opinion, what you are feeling is entirely normal and expected, and understandable, and there is no reason for you to keep it a secret. I realize I cannot really know what I would do, having never been in this particular predicament, but I presume I would feel the same."

"You're right, Ilana, you can't know."

"What I DO know, however, is that you have been feeling like that ever since you came back, and it has been four weeks already. And what I also know is that I am the only person you have told about it, because no one else knows where you really come from. You cannot hold it in you forever, it is not good for you. And besides, you will tell him eventually, I am sure of it."

"I won't," Buffy folded her arms on her chest tenaciously.

"You will. You always do. You two never keep secrets from one another," Ilana pointed.

"So consider this one an exception. I'm not telling him anything this time. It's different."

"How?"

"In the 'he felt guilty about it once and I don't want him to feel guilty about it again' way. We talked about it a very long time ago. Not really about this subject, but something close to it, and I made him feel like Hell without even intending to. Now, that I know for sure what my candor's repercussions might be, I'm not doing it again."

Ilana waited for a second before speaking up. "You are still going to tell him."

Buffy shot her an unambiguous look. "No, I'm not!"

"Yes, you are. Do you know why you are? Because there is no other way for you. Whenever something is on your mind, you never feel better until you share it with him. You can tell the entire world about it, but until you do not talk to HIM, it will not go away. You know I am right."

Buffy intended to protest, but knew there was no point. She closed her mouth as soon as she opened it. Ilana was right. She wouldn't feel better until she spoke to him. It was a fact, and she was well acquainted with it. But how could she tell him without hurting him? And on the other hand, she knew she had to tell him, and for less selfless reasons, like her own peace of mind. It had been burdening her for far too long. Ilana was right. She was so right it was almost scary. Buffy took a deep breath, trying to get these thoughts out of her head, but obviously not doing so well. Her hand unconsciously lay on a golden medallion she was wearing around her neck, and she removed it and opened it, peering on the tiny oil-painted portrait of her son. She couldn't help but smile.

Ilana descried that, figuring it was the perfect time to change the subject to something Buffy had always been willing to talk about. "Daniel looks more like Liam every day," she noted.

Buffy smiled. "Yeah, he does. You can hardly tell I'm the mother."

They both giggled at that comment.

"Except for the eyes," Ilana pointed out. "He has your exact eyes, and if I am not mistaken, it is already too late for the color to change."

Buffy grinned. "Well, so we found my trademark. But anyway, maybe the next baby will resemble me. Who knows, right?"

Ilana beheld her with incredulity. "Are you?…" she hissed excitedly, but Buffy interrupted her.

"No, not currently."

"I cannot wait until I have a child," Ilana beamed dreamily. "Do you think Harry and I will be good parents?" she asked the question, with somewhat concern in her voice. "You see, the problem is that I am not like you. I know Harry will be away on business a lot, and raising our children will be mostly my responsibility, unlike you and my brother who raise Daniel together. I already know I will not be doing it really by myself, I will need maids, and nannies to help me, but sometimes…I am just scared."

"You'll do fine," Buffy reassured her.

Ilana just smiled in return. "So, what did Liam say? Daisies or Lilies?"

Buffy had to laugh at the sharp change of subject. "Both," she replied.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Buffy found him sitting on the carpet in front of the great mantelpiece in their bedroom, deeply engrossed in a book, the child in his arms already fast asleep.

She started walking towards him, but halted abruptly a few paces away. She was having second thoughts. Again. *It's a bad time for second thoughts!* she berated herself.

Angel looked up from his book, and seemingly only then noticed that his son was asleep. He carefully stood up and carried him to his crib, to tuck him in.

When he returned, he sat back on the carpet, smiling at her.

Buffy remained standing though, embracing herself, and beholding him skeptically.

Angel opened his arms for her. "Come," he said, "sit with me for a moment."

Buffy beamed with abrupt relief and accepted his invitation. She sat down in his lap, leaning her back against his chest, as he wrapped his arms around her, the fire gently tinting their frames in hues of red and gold.

Angel kissed her head gently. "Talk to me," he requested.

Buffy merely sighed in response.

"I have noticed you have been acting strangely weeks ago. I am certain that whatever it is, it has been bothering you ever since your return, only then I was too happy to notice, and I am truly sorry for that, because perhaps, if I had, I would have asked you at the start." He turned her in his arms and propped her chin up, leveling their eyes and gazing at her until she had no choice but to look away. Angel raised her chin again, making her face him. "Leannan, tell me," he requested softly, "you know you can always tell me everything."

He perceived a lone tear stumbling its way down her cheek, and caught it with his thumb. "Is it truly that bad?"

Buffy only nodded, looking down from him into her lap, and abstractly wiping away any tears that might follow.

Angel looked at her with genuine concern this time. "Beloved, what is the matter?" he stroked her cheek gently, and she leaned into his amiable touch. "Please, tell me. I will do everything I can to make it better, I swear."

She sniffled. "No, you won't. You can't. If I tell you, it'll only make things worse than they already are."

"Why?"

"Because then YOU'LL feel bad, and everything's just…" she wiped some lingering tears again.

"Why will I feel bad?" he wanted to know.

"I love you," she whispered, looking him straight in the eye. "You know I love you, right?"

Angel didn't understand where she was heading with this. He embraced her tightly. "I love you too, dear," he whispered, stroking her hair.

Buffy pulled back reluctantly.

Angel eyed her expression carefully. "Do you," he suddenly, for some inexplicable reason, couldn't find his voice, "do you want to…to leave?" A part of him feared the answer.

She beheld him sorrowfully. "I knew it. I just knew you'd react like that. I mess up everything, God, I just knew that," she spoke with frustration in her voice.

Angel gazed at her, his eyes hurt. "But…but why?" Abruptly, a thought materialized in his head. "Has something happened there?" He looked away in pain. "Something else you might have not told me?" He wasn't sure he wanted to know though.

Buffy shook her head silently.

"Then…why? I thought…I thought you were happy. You…you made me think you were happy…" he stuttered.

"I AM happy," she pledged.

"Then why do you want to leave?" His voice was broken, he couldn't understand.

"Did you even hear me say that, or have you just assumed?" she threw her hands up in despair. "Why whenever I say something is wrong, you automatically think I want to go back?"

"I…I…" he seemed to have lost his speech again.

Buffy sighed and flung her arms around him.

Angel waited for only a moment, letting his obviously very confused mind digest everything, before enclosing his arms around her, stroking her back to allay her sobs.

"I miss them, Angel," she divulged finally, "I mean…I know that after that spell Willow did, they probably don't even know me anymore, but I still miss them. When I was there, I…I saw them again, and before that, I'd thought I hadn't missed them as much, but then I saw them…" she whispered the words into his chest, muffling them with his clothes.

Angel sighed heavily. "Why did you not tell me of this before?"

Buffy looked up at him. "If you can tell me you don't feel like crap now, thinking it's all YOUR fault, even if it's not, I'll come up with an answer."

"It IS my fault," he whispered, averting his eyes from her, "I am the reason you have stayed here in the first place."

"No, you are the reason why I haven't stayed there," she corrected him, "it isn't your fault, and I should have never told you, because now you think it is."

"I am sorry, my love."

"What about? You haven't done anything."

"I am sorry for that there is nothing I CAN do."

"There is nothing you SHOULD do. I just…I hate it. Why does everything have to be so complicated with us? Why can't we just be happy for once without having at least one of us feeling guilty about it? Why, for once, can't we just have it all?"

Angel embraced her tighter and reposed her head on his chest, gently brushing his lips over her hair. He knew there was only one way to solve it once and for all, and he hated it already.

Part Thirty-Five

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------- When Buffy woke up the next morning, an envelope was awaiting for her on her husband's side of the bed. She frowned slightly, and minor fears started creeping into her as she waveringly reached her hand for it.

Buffy opened it, retrieving a letter. She already knew it would be from him. Even before she took her first glimpse at it, she had known it for certain. What could he have written? What could be so horrible he couldn't tell her face to face? Could it…could it be the previous night's repercussions? Could he have taken it that much harder than she'd feared he would, and now he wouldn't even talk to her anymore?

It was only one of the hundreds suppositions that were racing through her mind at the moment. She closed her eyes for a brief second, detesting her entire being for telling Angel everything last night. When she opened her eyes again, they were staring at the letter. Buffy took a deep breath and began to read.

"My dear love,

I am still not quite certain if this letter was such a good idea. I can already see you in my mind, startling because you found it first thing after you woke up, instead of me. Do not, however. I did not intend to frighten you by writing it. This is the last thing I want.

After you drowsed off in my arms the previous evening, I carried you to bed and put you to sleep. Then I just sat there for what seemed to me like hours, observing you as you slept, and knowing it was I who brought these tears on your beautiful face only a short spell ago. I know what you are thinking, and perhaps even saying, right now. That it was not my fault. But it was, love. It still is, and it does not really significant whether you agree on it, or not. The important thing is that this is the truth.

I have spent a lot of time thinking how or why I should write this letter. As I was watching you sleep, the words materialized in my head all by themselves, and in the same time, I was thinking to myself, why would I just not talk to her? But eventually, I decided on writing my thoughts down instead.

I can understand why you kept it inside. Despite what you are probably assuming, I understand. You cannot protect me from everything though, and more importantly, you cannot protect me from the truth. I was selfish, because I was happy. Again, I know what you are thinking, but I was. I was very selfish, because deep inside, the only thing that truly mattered to me was having you here, with me. I believe that in a good marriage, both sides must make sacrifices, and as much as it hurts me to admit, I know that I have not sacrifices a thing. All the sacrifices have been made by you alone, and I was there to enjoy having you by my side.

I hear what you say, darling. You say that you did it for yourself, that it was your choice, and you made it. But still, if we go back to the very beginning, if you had never met me, would you even have had to make this choice? I think we both know the answer for that. It always comes back to me somehow. I think I start to somehow understand my future self for leaving you. All of your pain, whatever it might be, always originates in me.

You say you love me. Do not think for a second I have ever doubted it. I know I have never even once had a single reason to do such a thing, and never will have.

You say that your life is here, with Daniel and I, that we are your family. I have never questioned the truth of that either. I know it is as true as your love for me.

But neither one of those things can efface, or supersede the life you were leading before. I am not implying you are not genuinely happy, or that you disfavor this life. All I am saying is that you would prefer to have both. And it is not wrong.

I will not be selfish anymore, beloved. I know I have no right to put you into a position of an ultimatum, but I do not wish for you to let your sense of duty to cloud your judgment. I want you to consider it well, and from all aspects. As painful as it would be for me to lose you, it is painful so much more seeing you unhappy. It is for your sake alone that I wish for you to make that one last choice. I will take you anyway I can have you, you know that, but for your own peace of mind, you must make that choice. I cannot ask you this, and yet my hand is writing the words…

I want you to decide where you wish to be more. Is it here, or is it there?

I want to tell you that…that I will let you go. I will release you, willingly. All I want is for you to be happy. I cannot stand seeing you cry because you wish to be elsewhere, so perhaps there is a selfish aspect in this request, after all. But you know you can find happiness there as well, if you go back. You can, if you truly want to.

I love you more than anything, more than I have ever loved anyone on this earth, and more than I ever thought a person could love. People often say, if you love someone, let them go. So, I am, beloved. I am doing what people say is right. I am letting you go. You are free to choose your will from now on, and do not feel guilty. Do not choose wrong because you feel obliged to it. Whatever your choice is, I will accept it, and I will be there to tell you I love you.

I can see the tears in your eyes now, because those same tears are bedimming mine.

I beg you, do not be angry with me. I only tried to make it easier for you. Please, understand.

I am still not sure this letter was a good idea, but as I am rereading it for the approximately fifteenth time now, I am still confident I am going to leave it to you."

There was no signature, and Buffy didn't need one. It wasn't like she didn't know the sender. The signature was nugatory to this letter, dispensable. Everything momentous had already been said. So, he had left her with a choice. And he had said he'd let her go if she wanted. If she wanted…

Somehow, she had always known it would come to that. Did she hate him for it? No. If anything, she only loved him more now. He had let her choose…but hadn't she done the exact same thing once already? Made the exact same choice? How many times can a person choose the same thing? Probably, until their own peace of mind wouldn't come. Obviously, he knew her better than she knew herself. He knew she wasn't at peace. Well, she knew that too, only she favored to keep it all inside instead of actually doing something about it. A distant memory emerged in her mind out of nowhere. A memory of a certain long-ago confrontation in the Sunnydale sewers…at least, THIS Angel had left the choice to her. At least, he hadn't just left…or in this case, let HER to just leave…it was almost a deja vu. Almost.

But how could he say that? How could he say he'd let her go? Let her go?! For THAT, Buffy WAS mad at him. She was furious. How could he ever let her go? Had he meant those words? No, probably not. Buffy knew it'd kill him to do that, because it nearly had the last time. She recalled Ilana's words of how he'd reacted to her being taken from him before, and what she had witnessed herself once she had been back. No, he couldn't have meant those words…but he was the one who had written them… So, was she upset with him, or wasn't she? Abruptly, she didn't even know the answer herself. One thing she did know though – it was for HER that he had said, or written down, those words.

And he had made no sacrifices? Hadn't he realized that the sacrifice he had offered to make was million times greater than any she could have ever made?

Buffy didn't want to go. She didn't want to leave. Her choice…he had forecast unerringly her sense of obligation clouding her judgment, but it wasn't it. It was her love that swayed her discretion, her love for that man, who was set and willing to give up everything, if only for her to be happy.

But didn't he see? Why didn't he see? She already WAS happy. She missed people, but she was happy nonetheless. Angel missed his father who had died, but did it mean he was miserable without him? No. No, because he had her, and he had their son, and the rest of their family and friends, and so did she. Buffy was fully aware of that she could never have both. No one could ever have both the things they craved for. It was always either this, or that, always a choice. In the end, in every step of her life, there were always the options, and the need to choose something. But this especial choice was easy. Once she had been forced to make it, it was suddenly so trivial. Buffy could feel a mountain being lifted from her heart once she set her mind on it. She felt better than she had felt in weeks, and as always, she owed it all to one person. If he didn't impel her to determine, she would never make up her mind, and this encumbrance would remain with her forever.

The past…the future…whatever it now was, she wanted to go there. Not REALLY go there, but more like to see them, at least once again, under normal circumstances. But no matter how much she longed for that, it was never worth leaving here. Buffy recalled how wonderful it had been to see her friends again on that fleeting encounter they had been given. She recalled how good it had felt to hug them all… Albeit the circumstances, it had still been good to see them again. And Giles…the only figure close to a father she had ever truly had… and then she thought about Thomas.

And she also remembered how her heart had broken and languished to the concept of never seeing her family again. Had she ever felt THAT same pain whenever she had thought of not seeing her friends again? She had felt pain, obviously, but had she felt THAT pain? No. Nothing else could ever originate THAT pain in her heart. It was her home. Wherever was Angel, HERE, was her home.

Buffy was so grateful to him for making her choose. She knew she'd have never made HERSELF choose, and would have most likely dangling in between for the rest of her life. She'd needed him to show her the way, to guide her, and as always, he'd excelled in it. Now, she finally felt peace. Her mind, for the first in so long, was set on something after a lot of time of struggling, and she knew for sure – that it was right. Buffy took a deep breath, and grinned.

Abruptly, something strange caught her eye. She peered at the few lines on the upside of the letter she hadn't seen before. It had obviously been added long after the rest, she could tell by that the ink there hadn't yet dried completely. Anxiously, she read what was said there.

"My darling,

I have made these tonight. I do not even know if it has come out right, but I tried my best, bearing in mind the way you described their look and character. I was thinking about you, and my hand started drawing. It is nothing, but it is unfortunately all I can ever offer you. I thought of you when I made them, hoping perhaps it would bring a happy smile to your face.

Take a look at them. They are on the desk."

Again, no signature. Again, no need for one. Buffy frowned. She couldn't come up with a first idea concerning what he was talking about. She rose from the bed, wrapping her negligee around her body, and paced over too the desk in the writing cabinet adjoining their bedroom, the letter and its envelope still in her hand.

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Buffy's eyes widened as she descried the papers on the desk. She gulped and brought her hand to her mouth to impede the imminent sob. And still, her tears cascaded lavishly down her face.

She picked up the papers, riffling through them, dwelling on each for what resembled eternity. In her hands, she was holding, made by him, sketches of Willow, Xander, and Giles. It wasn't enough that the drawings had an utter similarity to the people in them, but the way he'd caught the various glimpses in each other's orbs, the way he'd portrayed the little things, like Willow's sweetness, Xander's humor, and Giles' intelligence, made them look almost alive. She'd always known he'd been talented. Their room, and the entire mansion were full with his artwork, but these…she could see how much love he had put into these. He had made them FOR HER.

Buffy wanted to hug him. She wanted to hug him so tight, right there and then, and hold him within her embrace forever. She couldn't recall a moment when she had loved him more than now.

She put on the first gown her hand grabbed at, and with her hair still down, scurried downstairs.

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"Good morning, Your Grace," Thomas greeted her with a smile, a little baffled from her unkept appearance.

"Thomas, you know you're embarrassing me when you do that, don't you?" she inquired with a grin. "Why can't you use my name?"

The old man merely shrugged, returning her a similar knowing grin. "Is anything the matter, My Lady?" he suddenly noticed the tears that had up till not long ago been in her eyes. "Is anything wrong?" he asked again, this time more worriedly.

Buffy only beamed, which confused him even more. "Thomas, where is he?"

"You mean, your husband?"

She nodded eagerly.

His face became solemn. "He took his horse for a ride earlier this morning, but he is back by now. I believe one of the servants saw him in the gardens. He reported he looked…upset?" he hesitated.

She saddened momentarily, but her smile was back before Thomas could perceive it was gone. "Thank you," she said, and ran out of the front door.

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It didn't take her too long to find him. Even though the gardens were huge, she was driven by the same sixth sense that would locate him everywhere. He was standing with his back against a large tree, almost merging in the gold, red and yellow tints of the garden. These were the final weeks of Autumn, and everything was preparing for the impending Winter. It was cold, Buffy had noticed just now. She was cold. She was sure he was cold too, and yet he didn't seem to give any mind to the weather. He just stood there, staring far away into space. Buffy could clearly detect, from where she stood, that he had been crying in some point. But she was here to stop these tears, stop them for good. They had had enough tears. Both of them.

Angel started when she approached him, entering his sight. He hastened to wipe his eyes, even though there was not much to wipe there anymore. "Buffy," he began throatily, but stopped.

Buffy looked into his eyes. She could learn by his mien he hadn't slept during the entire night, but she also knew it wasn't the only reason for the adversity and fatigue in those softest orbs.

Before she could say anything, Angel spoke again.

"What are you doing here?" his voice was full of concern this time, and much steadier. He took off his coat and threw it over her shoulders. "You could catch a cold."

Buffy fastened it around her, relishing sudden warmth.

Angel gazed at her for a long moment, then slowly reached out his hand and gently tucked one stray lock of hair behind her ear, stroking her cheek in the process, his eyes ruefully scrutinizing her features. But then, he abruptly removed his hand from her cheek, like he was burned by it, dropping it back to his side and looking away.

Now, it was Buffy's hand that was stroking his face. "I saw the drawings," she told him. "Angel, they're beautiful."

He sighed, still looking away. "But they are not real. They can never be real."

She cupped his cheek with her palm, and he nuzzled it, leaning his face into her hand. "They aren’t meant to be, my love," she said softly, "drawings aren't meant to be real. They are meant to supplant reality. They are needed when reality isn't available." In her mind, Buffy recollected how she and Willow had searched the internet for a portrait of her family, and how she had found Angel peering at the same portrait when she had come back. "Your work is the most beautiful expression of reality I have ever seen. It's perfect."

He shook his head slightly, his eyes still locked with the ground. "You do not deserve a substitute. You deserve what is real," he whispered sadly.

"I deserve to have my choice respected."

"You do," he acknowledged softly.

"And you said you'd respect whatever decision I might make, right?"

His head snapped up. It seemed for a moment like he had something to say, but then he looked away again.

Buffy turned his face back. "You remember our wedding Angel?"

"Of course, I remember," he replied, a little hurt, "the day I married you was one of the two happiest days of my life."

Buffy smiled, cradling his face in her hands, looking him straight in the eye. "Until death do us apart," she whispered, "do you remember that?"

He sighed silently, and bit his lip. "This is wrong."

She was taken aback by that sudden sentence. "How come?"

"Because I do not want you to be here because you feel you ought to, that is how."

"I'm not, Angel. I miss them. God, of course, I miss them. But how could you ever think that I missed them enough to go back? I'll never miss anything enough to go back. My life is here, I'm happy HERE.

Yes, I could be happy there too, but then my happiness there died, and THIS is why I'm here, with him, right now. And I intend to stay."

He almost allowed a smile to his lips. "Are you certain?"

"One condition," she peered at him seriously.

"W…what?"

"You will NEVER think that I want to leave you. Regardless to everything I might say in the future, you will NEVER think I want to leave. Because it isn't true, Angel. It will never be true."

He smiled. "I accept."

"Good," she wrapped her arms around him, pressing him to her. "I love you. Never dare to doubt that."

Angel chuckled, rubbing her back gently. "I never doubt that," he kissed her head, "and I love you too."

Part Thirty-Six

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"When are they going to arrive?" Buffy asked her husband, who was calmly standing by the window and staring outside, while she was fidgeting on a sofa.

Angel turned his head to face her and grinned. "Why are you so nervous?"

"I'm not," she protested.

"You are. You have been for days. Every paltry thing causes you tension."

Buffy sighed, leaning back on the cushions and averting her eyes from her husband. He was right. She knew he was right. Cordelia and Doyle's arrival for Ilana's wedding wasn't nearly the event of the year, and there was no reason in this world why it should make her so anxious…but the fact remained that everything had been evoking nervousness in her lately. Glancing once at her husband's face, she knew the same thoughts that were now going through her mind, were going through his.

Angel approached her, and squatted in front of her, putting his both hands on her knees. "My love, please, calm down."

Buffy looked down at him for a moment, then averted her eyes again. "What if I can't?"

"For your sake, please, do. By God, if I knew it would cause you to act this way, I would try to persuade Ilana into not inviting her…"

"Angel, she's your mother," Buffy protested, a slight shock tinting her voice.

"Yes, she is, and even more importantly, she is Ilana's mother. However, YOU are my wife. I do not approve of the way she behaves around you. If it were up to me, I would exclude her from the guests list. I do not wish to break my relationship with my mother, but even more I cannot allow her to behave that way any longer. I keep hoping she will stop and will see her fault, but…she does not. Or rather, not yet." He again gazed up at her. "Darling, do not let her ruin Ilana's wedding for you. Moreover, do not allow her be the reason for your anxiety these days. Please, try to relax," he raised his hand and reposed it on her cheek, "alright?"

Buffy smiled, taking a deep breath, and nodded, inwardly discussing whether she could truly keep that promise.

Someone cleared their throat in the room, and Buffy and Angel turned their attention to that person.

It was a young servant. He peered at his master and mistress. "Forgive me for interrupting," he bowed slightly, and after receiving approving nods from both of them, went on. "My Lord, My Lady, Sir Allan Doyle and his wife," he motioned with one hand for the couple who had instantly entered the large hall.

Buffy and Angel immediately stood up to greet their guests.

"Cordelia," Angel bowed and kissed her hand, "you look lovely, as always."

The brunette grinned. "Charming, as always, Liam. Do not let him out of your sight," she told her best friend, whose hand was now being kissed by her husband.

Later, the two couples settled for a catching-up talk, which expectedly didn't last longer than several minutes, because Buffy had earlier planned to have Cordelia all for herself. She had many things she had wanted to discuss with her best friend, and she hadn't wanted Angel to be around for that. She knew it would hurt him to know, even though to some extent, he already knew.

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"Are you afraid she might do something?" Cordelia inquired, while she and Buffy were strolling through the garden.

"Something like what?"

"Well, I suppose…initiate a scandal?"

"I doubt," Buffy admitted. "It's her daughter's wedding, she wouldn't ruin it just cuz she doesn't get along with me."

"Excuse me?" Cordelia clearly didn't understand her phrase choice.

Buffy smiled. "My point is that she won't initiate a scandal on her own daughter's wedding, no matter how much she might not approve of me. I don't think even she would do it. She didn't say anything on the Duke's funeral," the blonde pointed out, "and believe me, if look could kill, I wouldn't be alive today after the way she looked at me then."

"Well…" Cordelia hesitated before uttering what she'd intended to say, "even though all you say is true, unfortunately, I must remind you it would not be the first time."

Buffy flinched slightly at her words, although knowing her friend had meant no harm. She could best recall the previous week's ball, when Angel's mother had pulled a very impressive show in front of the hundreds guests. If Angel hadn't interfered back then, she honestly didn't know what she would have done. He had spoken to the right people, naturally, and due to a lack of choice had caused his mother to leave. Afterwards, despite him telling her it had been herself his mother had truly embarrassed and humiliated, and despite her knowing that in some ways he was right, she too had insisted they had left.

She shook her head slightly, inhaling a deep breath. "I'm telling you one thing. If there's a person in this world I'm scared to death from, it's my husband's mother."

"Do not, Buffy," Cordelia put her hand on Buffy's arm. "I know how you feel. Doyle's parents hated me as well, I believe they still do not approve of his choice of marriage…"

"But they don't hate you enough to embarrass you in the presence of the entire Irish elite."

Cordelia swallowed, knowing her friend had a somewhat strong argument. "Well, do tell me then, what are you planning to do? You cannot not to attend the wedding. You are the Duchess O'Brien. Other than the fact it is your sister-in-law's wedding, you and your husband are invited and expected to arrive to every aristocratic social event. You know, as well as I do, you MUST be there. So...what will you do?"

"I don't know. I do know I have to be there though."

"Precisely. You cannot escape it, Buffy. You must stand up to her. It is the only thing you can do."

"Stand up to her? No one can stand up to her. The only person who can somehow keep her under control is her son, and only because he has unlimited power everywhere here."

"That is correct, he HAS power everywhere. Everyone will do whatever he shall ask them to do, and YOU are his wife, so you have nothing to fear."

"Cordelia, he could tell strangers to ask her to leave a ball, but he will never ask his sister to banish her mother from her wedding. And even if he could, I would never let him do that."

The brunette sighed. "I understand. But still…perhaps she will do nothing. You cannot possibly know…"

"Until it happens," Buffy completed her, "when it'll be too late."

Cordelia sighed again.

"I'm telling you, I already know what's it gonna be like. She'll affront me, like she always does, and I'll freeze on the spot, because I CAN'T tell her everything I think about her in front of all these people. And then Angel will come to the rescue, again, and again it's a fight with his mother. And despite everything he says, it isn't nearly as easy for him. She's his mother. Not his birth mother, but the only mother he's known his entire life. Confronting her isn't easy for him, it can't be. You know, one of the things I hate the most about this situation is that it tears him into two. I know he'll always side me, and that makes me feel guilty."

"Please, mind he does not have to side you," Cordelia pointed out, "it is his choice."

"I know. But somehow it doesn't make it better. She's been making comments about Daniel too, do you know that?"

Cordelia's eyes widened in astonishment. "What?"

Buffy nodded, biting her lower lip bitterly. "Promise me you won't tell Angel. Nor Doyle, because he will surely tell Angel."

The brunette nodded. "I give you my word."

"She didn't say it to me in the face, but…friends told me she's been spreading it around."

"What?"

Buffy sighed. "She professes Daniel isn't," she swallowed, "she says he's not Angel's son."

Cordelia's hand flew to her mouth. "Oh, Lord!"

Her friend merely nodded.

"Why would she...no, she could have not. And Buffy, Daniel looks so much like his father, she cannot possibly claim he is someone else's son...why would she?..."

"Cordelia, you were born amid these people, not I, remember?"

"My parents were far from the upper class, Buffy," Cordelia reminded her gently.

Buffy sighed. "Still, Daniel is the first born son, he's Angel's heir. She claims that I made it seem like he's Angel's son to…"

"Oh," Cordelia grasped. "Well…surely, no one believes her!"

"I guess, no one does, otherwise I would never be informed of something like that, but it doesn't matter. What matters is that to every hundred who don't believe her, there's one who does, and I don't want it to endanger Angel's reputation and good name."

"What about YOUR good name?"

Buffy chuckled ruefully. "She has ruined my good name a very long time ago."

"No!" Cordelia demurred. "Everyone loves you…"

"Everyone loves me because I'm Angel's wife. They don't dare to hate me."

"No," her friend smiled softly. "They love you because of you. Let me tell you something, wherever I go, I always make sure I ask everyone with even a bit of influence in our society if what your mother-in-law has been saying has done even a slight damage to your image, and they all deny. People do not listen to her. They all are well aware of her big mouth, Buffy. And they know YOU. You are a wonderful person, and as so many others, I am proud to call you my friend. I assure you, your mother-in-law can say whatever she wishes, no one listens. They know what they know, and what they know is that there is not a single person among them who has ever had even a bit of proof to condemn you. They even still wonder about why you and Angel have no lovers outside the marriage," she winked mischievously while voicing the last sentence. "Liam's mother will have to exert more than this to prove a treachery as horrible."

Buffy beamed. "You sure?"

Cordelia grinned. "I would never lie to you about a substantial matter such as this. You are my best friend, after all."

Buffy reached out and hugged her, and Cordelia returned her embrace.

"Do not worry," she said, after the two had let go, "in a few days it will be over."

"Yeah," Buffy groaned tensely.

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"So, may I ask what you have been talking to Cordelia about?" Angel inquired his wife, while the two were relaxing on the grass under a large tree in the gardens, after Cordelia and Doyle had retired to their rooms. He was leaning with his back against the tree, while Buffy was lying down, with her head on his lap.

"Nothing special," she said.

Angel sighed. "Was it…by any chance, about my mother?"

Buffy waited a while before answering. "She might have come up."

Her husband gazed down at her, although her eyes weren't at him at all. They were fixed on a flower that was growing next to where she lay and which's petals she was stroking with her fingertips. "Why can you not talk to me?"

"I am talking to you. I didn't tell her anything you don't know." She finally looked up at him, smiling reassuringly. "Can you read me some more?"

Angel peered down at the poetry book that was lying beside him on the grass and bent down to kiss her forehead. "I thought you wanted to sleep," he remarked, grinning.

"I wanted to rest," Buffy looked up, grinning as well, "and I'm resting. Besides, you know that I like falling asleep when you read to me…NOT that it's boring…"

Angel laughed. "I know."

"I love it when you read to me," she nestled on his lap and Angel kissed her head, picking up the book, and started reading.

"Go from me. Yet I feel that I shall stand
Henceforward in thy shadow. Nevermore
Alone upon the threshold of my door
Of individual life, I shall command
The uses of my soul, nor lift my hand
Serenely in the sunshine as before,
Without the sense of that which I forbore -
Thy touch upon the palm. The widest land
Doom takes to part us, leaves thy heart in mine
With pulses that beat double. What I do
And what I dream include thee, as the wine
Must taste of its own grapes. And when I sue
God for myself, He hears that name of thine,
And sees within my eyes the tears of two…"

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Thomas opened the door, his eyes descrying a young woman he had never seen before in his life. He bowed slightly, taking a step backwards to let her into the house. "May I help you, miss?" he inquired, as she started to gaze about the room in visible awe and astonishment.

"Miss?"

Her eyes finally fell on his, as if it were the first time she became aware of his presence. "I think…"

"Are you lost, miss?"

She gulped, shaking her head. "Maybe…I'm not sure…when I asked, people told me it was the O'Brien mansion."

The old butler nodded. "Yes, lass, indeed, it is. Are you seeking for someone in particular?"

"Yeah. Buffy. She lives here…right?"

A smile flickered across his face. "Yes, she does. I shall go find her right now, to inform her of your arrival. May I have your name, please?"

"My name?" she looked slightly perplexed. "Look, can I…can I just come with you?"

Thomas regarded her for a long moment. She seemed like a nice young lady to him, and although he had assumed he'd known all of Buffy's friends, he could swear he'd never encountered her before. "Sean," he stopped a servant who was passing by.

"Yes, sir," Sean halted his walk immediately and neared the older man. "Ma'am," he curtsied before the woman.

"Where have you seen the Duchess the last time?"

"My Lord and My Lady are in the gardens, sir," the younger servant replied.

Thomas nodded. "You may go, Sean."

Sean bowed again and left.

"Follow me, if you please, ma'am," Thomas smiled, motioning for her to come after him.

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After a search that lasted about five minutes, they finally came upon Buffy and Angel. The woman couldn't help but smile seeing the serene picture of the two of them under the tree. It was a strangely warm Autumn afternoon, and Buffy was already asleep in her husband's lap, leaning her back against his chest, or so she seemed to be. Angel was all but drowsing off himself, the book he'd been reading lay on the grass, as his hands lay on his wife's belly, while his head rested on top of hers.

Thomas smiled too. It was certainly an unusual sight, and together with that, so common in that house. "Perhaps we should not intrude on them," he suggested, his tone only a bit above whisper.

But, as turned out, not quiet enough. Angel stirred, his eyes flickered open, and were soon fixed on the two newcomers. He glanced down at his sleeping wife, then peered up at them again.

"My Lord," Thomas curtsied, "the young lass here has come to see the Lady."

Angel's sleepy vision had cleared up by then, and he gazed at the woman with wide astonished eyes. "Thomas, you may go," he whispered, and the butler obeyed and left.

He bent down and whispered something in his wife's ear, which instantly caused her to wake up. She sat up, and her eyes encountered the ones of the other woman. She could just gape at her like she were frozen, not being able to say a word.

Part Thirty-Seven

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"Willow," Buffy gasped the name, her hand instantly gripping Angel's as everything sank in. If Willow was there… "You didn't do the spell," she whispered, not really talking to Willow at the point, then looked up, now, tightly wrapping her arms around Angel's. "How could you lie to me like that? I thought…I thought you were my friend…" she fastened her hold on Angel's arm even more, and gazed up at him. "She didn't do the spell," she uttered quietly, her eyes wearing a slightly panicked expression.

Angel swallowed and released his arm from her hold, wrapping it possessively around her shoulder, not saying anything, but knowing precisely what she had meant by that.

"I did the spell," Willow spoke for the first time.

Buffy was really confused now. "Then…then you're not supposed to remember…how…"

"I wasn't entirely honest with you," Willow admitted sheepishly.

Buffy waited for her to go on.

The redhead inhaled a deep breath. "While you were unconscious in my dorm…well, I think that already then I knew what I was going to do. I knew there was no way I was letting them keep you there when you had a family," she glanced at Angel, "here. So, I knew I'd find a way to get you back without them knowing. But," she bit her lower lip, "even though I didn't know you as well as…my other self did, I…deep down inside, you were still my best friend. It was just something I felt...I felt close to you. I can't even explain that, considering the fact I supposedly hadn't met you before that. So…my point is that…I knew I'd miss you. I knew I'd have to let you go, but I also knew I would miss you. So…while you were out, I…well, I wrote down everything that I saw as essential to…to remember you by. After I had sent you back, I did the spell as I promised, I swear, I did," Willow examined her friend's expression for a second before continuing. "But afterwards, I went back to that site we'd found, and I saw you there, on that drawing, and…I don't know, it just…it felt like a deja vu of some kind, like something just clicked inside me, and…I just knew I remembered you from somewhere. Anyway, I shrugged it off, thinking it was nothing. But it just wouldn't let me go. And then, I found that paper I had written everything on, and I saw your name, and suddenly all the pieces got together. I returned to that site again and compared the two names, to see if it wasn't merely my hallucination, and…from there, the story is short. I researched, and eventually came up with a spell to restore all of my lost memories. I won't bore you with the details, but…the moment I knew everything again, I knew I had to see you. I just had to, so…here I am."

Buffy and Angel hadn't said a word for a long while. If Buffy was perplexed by it, there were no words to describe the way Angel felt. "And…the rest?…" Buffy spoke eventually. "I'm sorry I snapped at you, I..."

"It's okay," she smiled, "you had every right to, after everything we put you through. And they don't know anything. I swear, they don't."

After another second of contemplation, Buffy pulled Willow into a hug, and the redhead eagerly responded. "I missed you so much," she practically sobbed when she pulled away a little.

"I know," Willow smiled. "I missed you too. I had to…I had to see it for myself, I guess…the happy life you'd said you had here. And I wanted to see YOU."

Buffy beamed. She turned to look at Angel behind her, who still seemed a little lost. "Honey, this is Willow!" she exclaimed happily, gesturing towards the other woman.

Angel nodded, not really knowing what to do, then he made a step forward and gracefully bowed over Willow's hand, smiling. "It is a pleasure, miss."

The redhead gulped, obviously, still having trouble accustoming to everything. She blushed slightly, facing her friend with utter adoration in her eyes. "Is he always like this?"

Angel grinned slightly to himself at her comment.

"They all are," Buffy grinned, taking her husband's hand in hers, "although mine is special."

"You think if you hadn't knocked his future self flat on his ass he would have also kissed your hand the first time you met?"

Buffy wanted to laugh at that, but at the last minute held it back. "Will…how can you remember that? It didn't happen…"

"Buffy, when I said memories, I meant ALL the memories."

"Oh…" the blonde breathed deeply, "God, I still can't believe you're really here. What did you tell Giles and Xander?"

"By the time they notice I'm seriously gone, I'll be back," her friend assured.

"Oh," Buffy sounded somewhat let down.

"You know I'm not here to stay," Willow said gently, "I can't. It isn't my world. It's…yours. Mine is back there. I shouldn't have come here at all. If Giles knew, I'd be suffering a lecture right now about just how dangerous time traveling is. I know it's foolish, AND irresponsible, and I know it's not a game to play with and travel through time whenever I feel bored, but…I just couldn't help it. I had to see you."

"I'm glad you're here," her friend beamed, "even if it's just for a little while."

"Beloved, would you like me to leave you two alone?" Angel spoke to his wife. "You must want…"

"No," she replied, squeezing his hand, "it's okay. It is okay, right?" she asked Willow.

The other woman replied with a nod, then her gaze fixed on Angel. "You're so…different. And you're also so much like the one I used to know. It's weird. It's confusing...in a good way though," she beamed.

"You get used to it," Buffy grinned, inclining her head on his arm.

"It is wonderful to finally meet you, miss," Angel told Willow. "My wife has spoken a lot about you."

"It's Willow," she corrected him with a smile, "just Willow. If you keep treating me like you do, you'll never stop making me blush."

"Well, then," he cleared his throat, slightly smiling himself, "forgive me for my rudeness, I should have asked before. Are you hungry? I can order to prepare something for you to eat right now."

"Maybe, something small?" Willow suggested after a long reflection. "I could eat something, I guess."

"I shall be right back, then." He placed a soft kiss on his wife's knuckles, and slightly bowed his head at Willow before walking away.

"Wow," the redhead summed it up in one word.

"That's my Angel," Buffy beamed.

"He's like…you know, like these knights in fairytales that eventually rescue the princess? Well, that's him. Actually, everything here is like that. So…old, so magical...fascinating. No wonder you like it so much."

"It's one of the reasons. How're you handling the dress?" the blonde asked knowingly.

Willow picked up the quip and grinned. "It's Hell," she admitted.

"Yeah, it is, at first. But then, after a while, you just stop paying attention. Angel pretty much made sure I had the largest wardrobe in the universe, so I kinda tried on everything…or so it seems," Buffy observed.

The redhead smiled. "He really does spoil you to no end, ha?"

"He really does," her friend grinned.

"You know, the funny thing is that I got all dressed up, you know, warmly, especially for Ireland, and when I got here...poof! I'm wearing a dress that's not even mine."

"Yeah," Buffy nodded. "I thought about for a while myself and I think I've come up with something. You know, it's the point; you can't take anything from one time to another...you know?"

"Yeah," Willow reflected over it for a second. "I get you. So," she changed the subject, as her lips curved up in a smile, "do you really call him Angel?"

The blonde grinned. "Yeah. I have been since I first arrived here. And in any rate, he knows everything about the future, and everything about the future HIM, so…"

"Everything?"

"Aside from his murderous alter ego. Make sure you don't spill anything about that. It's the last thing I need him to know of."

"My lips are sealed," Willow swore.

"Buffy, good evening," a third voice entered their conversation, and the two women rotated to face the approaching Cordelia. "Liam has told me I could find you here. He said you were entertaining an old friend. Hello," she extended her hand for Willow's.

"Cordy?" the redhead's eyes widened.

"I beg your pardon?" the brunette pulled her hand back, a bit confused.

Buffy smiled. "Cordelia, please, excuse my friend. She's mistaken you for another person we both know. Cordelia, this is my friend, Willow. Willow, this is Lady Cordelia Doyle."

"Doyle?" Willow mouthed in amazement.

Buffy nodded. "Our families are best friends."

"It is a pleasure to meet you," Cordelia smiled at Willow, then faced Buffy. "I see I am intruding, however. I will leave you two alone, I am certain you have much to talk about. I shall be in my chamber later, Buffy." She parted with a nod and a smile in the women's direction.

"Cordelia."

"Yeah, the one and only. Only that something tells me this Cordelia you might like. She's my best friend…here," Buffy rapidly added, descrying Willow's slightly hurt expression.

"You don't need to explain, Buffy," her friend said, "I understand it. You and I live in two different worlds now. I prefer the one when I'm able to vote," she chuckled.

"Voting is highly overrated in comparison to so many other things, Will."

"I wouldn't know. Well…does she live here too? This place is certainly large enough to lodge the entire town."

"No," Buffy laughed, "she and her husband are here for my sister-in-law's wedding that should take place in a couple of days."

"A sister-in-law?" Willow queried, a bit amazed.

"Yeah. Ilana. And another one, Laura. They're like real sisters to me. Mainly Ilana."

"You got sisters now too," the redhead observed with a grin.

"Sisters, friends, a husband who loves me and who I love very very much, our baby boy, and I even have Thomas, who can sometimes almost pass for a father figure to me," the blonde beamed happily. "Will, there are so many people who have known me for approximately two years and already consider me a friend or a family. I sometimes can't believe it. I was so scared once I would never fit in this high society, but so far, they have all been so nice to me, and so accepting. Oh, and did I mention I have a mother-in-law who wishes I were dead?"

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"He's an angel," Willow voiced softly, beholding the sleeping baby on the bed in Buffy and Angel's bedroom.

"My little angel," Buffy smiled, tenderly stroking Daniel's little cheek with her finger. "You'll never know how grateful I am for what you did, Will," she sighed. "You gave him back to me, him and his father, the two most important people in the world to me. I would have lost them forever if it hadn't been for what you did. I don't know how I would go through another minute without even one of them. And of course, there are others, as I already told you. There are my friends, and Thomas…if you had more time I would really like you to meet him."

"I have," Willow reminded her, "he was the old butler who opened the door for me."

"No," her friend chuckled. "I mean, REALLY meet him. You know, talk to him. He's a really good person. He is strange though, I gotta tell you that. For starters, he's been working here for like forever. He was practically a second father to Angel, and he still doesn't want to retire. He enjoys being the butler, beats me why. And he simply CAN'T call neither me nor Angel by our first names, no matter how much we insist, especially I. It's always 'Your Grace', or 'My Lady', or something like that."

"Speaking of which, it's gotta feel good being called like that all the time," Willow pointed out.

"Hardly," Buffy replied. "In fact, it feels kinda…strange. Sure, I got used to it after a while, but...sometimes I just wanna be called 'Buffy'."

The two of them smiled.

"And then there's Ilana," Buffy went on, "and Laura. You know, I don't think I ever really got the real drawback of being an only child until I got to have sisters. Ilana is really nice. She's easy to talk to, I like spending time with her in general. She can be really reticent and timid sometimes…well, most of the times, but that's just how her nature is. You can pretty much sum it up and say that Ilana was born and brought up in the upper class, and that's how she behaves, although I do have to admire her for the uncharacteristic for women here thirst for knowledge. In some aspects, she's certainly a unique case. Laura…well, she's a lot shyer. She's more closed up in herself. Sometimes, it feels as if there's an entire world inside of her that no one has access to but herself. She's very sweet though, and caring…well, just like Ilana, only Laura is more into her mother, or will be when she's grown up..." she trailed off, frowning a bit, "God, I hope that never happens." Buffy shook her head, then smiled again. "She's very self reserved and taciturn. In a sense, she is the real embodiment of an eighteenth century noble woman. Regardless to everything, I absolutely love having her as a little sister."

The redhead grinned. "How old are they?"

"Ilana is twenty four, and Laura is fourteen."

A knock on the door halted their conversation.

"Come in," Buffy approved.

An aged servant paced into the room with a tray of food in her hands. "My Lady," she bowed before Buffy, then turned to Willow, "miss, the Lord has requested me to bring you dinner." She put the tray in front of Willow on a nightstand.

"Thank you," she smiled coyly.

The old woman nodded and faced Buffy. "My Lord has decided not to interrupt you, ma'am. He said he shall meet you later."

Buffy smiled. "Rose, could you please ask my husband to come up? And can you also find my sisters-in-law and ask them to join us?"

The servant nodded. "Most certainly, My Lady. Anything else?"

"That would be all. You may go."

"With your permission," she bowed once more, and exited the room.

Willow eyed her friend. "If I say 'wow' one more time, just ignore it."

Buffy laughed. "As I said, you get used to it after a while."

"If only I had your problems in life," Willow sighed dramatically.

"That's just it. It's pretty much the best part. I don't have problems in life here. You have no idea how much everything's different here from where and when we grew up. These people seem to live their lives without a worry in the world…"

"Is there any other way when you probably worth more than the queen of England?" Willow wisecracked jokingly.

"I don't worth more than the queen of England!" Buffy protested.

"I tend to disagree."

"Fine," the blonde grinned, "but anyway, it's not the point. It's not about the money, Will. Everything is so serene here, so simple and pastoral. If you live here more than a day, you can't help but be drawn to it. You know, about a month after I had first arrived here, Angel took me outside, just to show me around. We went horseback riding in the meadows within the family grounds. And…I was plainly amazed. I don't think there's another word to it. Will, I swear, you've never seen something so beautiful in your life. I don't think you even have that in the feature anymore. I mean…it's basically just grass, trees, flowers…it sounds so simple, and yet…I swear, you've never seen anything like it. I was taken by it within a second. There really are no words to describe it."

"You really love it here," Willow observed, somewhat melancholically.

Buffy smiled. "Will, I can't find anything here I can possible hate. Everything I want is here, and so much more than what I could ever want. I sometimes feel like I'm literally living a dream."

"I'm glad."

"I miss you, guys," Buffy admitted after a lapse of silence. "I really miss you sometimes, but…but there's not a single thing that can cause me leave here. Nothing is as powerful. I think that…surprisingly, here…I truly found myself. There are people who search their entire lives for a purpose in life, and I KNOW I've already found it. It's here, not…there. My FAMILY is here."

Another knock on the door cut their conversation.

"Come in," Buffy responded.

Angel walked into the room, followed by his two sisters.

"I thought I told you we didn't need privacy," she smiled at him, standing up and meeting him halfway, encircling her arms around his waist. "Stop being so overly noble," she whispered in his ear, "it's not only me Willow's here to see." Then she turned to her friend. "Will, you've already met my husband, Angel. These are his two younger sisters, Ilana and Laura," she gestured towards each one as she uttered her name. "This is a friend of mine, Willow Rosenberg."

The two sisters curtsied politely, smiling coyly.

"A pleasure to meet you, miss," Ilana said, while Laura remained characteristically silent. "Where are you from, if I may?"

"Another country," Buffy replied instead of her friend, shooting Ilana a pointing look the woman grasped right away, instantly dropping the subject.

"How long will you be staying, then?"

"I'm leaving tomorrow," Willow answered.

"So soon?" Ilana inquired. "But you have just arrived, have you not?"

"I have to. There's nothing I can do about it," Willow smiled apologetically. "Buffy told me you're getting married soon. Congratulations."

"Thank you," Ilana grinned.

"Oh, Buffy, you promised me you would assist me in picking a dress," Laura reminded her brother's wife. "We must do it tonight, you promised."

"And we will, don't worry," Buffy smiled. "We have time." She exchanged a glance with her husband who slightly shook his head. "Have you finished the assignment you had to prepare for your class tomorrow?"

Laura desperately eyed Buffy, then her siblings, and receiving support from neither one of them, sighed. "I shall be going now," she smiled sheepishly, "if you all excuse me."

The three older people laughed after she had left the room, while Willow wasn't quite sure what the joke was about.

"Are you indeed from the future?" Ilana eventually asked her.

Willow's head shot up, obviously surprised the woman knew.

"She is, Ilana," Angel replied, sitting down next to his wife on their bed. He picked up their son, who abruptly woke up and started crying, and gingerly reposed his head on his shoulder, rubbing his back until he quieted.

"It is so exciting!" the woman exclaimed. "May I ask you something?"

"You can talk to her about school," Buffy quipped, glancing at her sister-in-law and husband from time to time. "These two will be thrilled if you explained them some yet to be discovered Einstein theory, or something other along those lines."

"Who is…Einstein?" Ilana inquired.

"A very smart guy," Buffy waved her hand. "He's supposed to be born in…some point in the future."

"Eighteen-seventy-nine."

"I was going to say that!"

"Buffy is not too fond of the subject," Ilana smiled feebly, "but I assume you know."

"Some things never change," Willow observed with an impish sigh.

Part Thirty-Eight

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"I must admit it is rather hard to believe there are still witches in when you come from," Ilana reflected upon what Willow had been saying.

"Why?" the redhead inquired.

"Well," the other woman glanced at Buffy, who had been sitting next to her husband, cradling her slumbering son in her arms. They all had assembled around a table on a terrace, and had been discussing various topics for the past few hours. "I assumed, with all you and Buffy told me, that people would not believe in magic anymore, if everything could be explained scientifically."

"People have always had the tendency to believe only what they wanted," Buffy observed, "no matter in what time, really. Obviously, not everyone here believe in magic."

"Well, being brought up according to Irish manners, albeit Catholic, we were taught myths and legends from infancy," her husband spoke, looking at her. "Our childhood is packed with stories about fairies, leprechauns and all sorts of magic."

"But it doesn't mean you believe in them," Buffy argued.

He beamed. "Beloved, you forget I was bitten by a vampire, and that I am married to a Slayer. I lack the choice in the matter."

She opened her mouth to say something in protest, but the best she could come up with was a faltering "But..."

"Darling, I, and so many others, believe in things they will never have the nerve to say they believe in."

"I suppose," Buffy mused, cradling Daniel closer and shivering a bit, an act which instantly caused Angel to remove his velvet coat, and wrap it around her to shield her from the evening chill. She responded with a grin.

Willow and Ilana exchanged a knowing smile.

"But either way," Angel's sister went on, addressing the redhead, "I could never guess you were one. A witch, that is. Well...you do not resemble one..."

"And how does a witch look like?" Willow inquired.

After a short pause, they all laughed at the point Ilana had been earlier trying to make.

"She's not just a witch," Buffy remarked, sending her husband a loving gaze before her upcoming words, "but a very good one too."

"Glad I could come handy," her friend replied, recalling the same thing Buffy was.

"Thank you," one of Angel's hands moved to cover the smaller one of his wife, offering her friend a grateful beam.

"Yes," his sister confirmed with a smile of her own, "thank you."

The four of them were caught in the moment, which was broken due to a servant, who approached with a tray of refreshments in her hands.

She stopped by the table and curtsied, then wordlessly reposed a cup of steaming tea before each person, and dainty dishes filled with various sweets. After she finished, she faced Buffy. "My Lady," she curtsied, "I was to inform you that your dress is almost finished. They need you for a final fitting...now...if you please?"

"Of course, I'll be there in a minute," the blonde nodded with a smile.

"Sir," the girl curtsied before Angel, who returned her a nod, and left the balcony.

Buffy stood up, and Angel instantly did too, pulling the chair backwards for her and waiting until she left the table to sit down.

"Honey?" she called him as she reached the door.

"Yes?" he stood up again and approached her.

"Could you watch after Daniel? I'll be back in some minutes."

"Of course," he beamed, accepting their son from her arms and cradling him gently.

"Bye," she placed a soft kiss on his lips before walking away, and he paced back to the table.

Willow watched the exchange with gleaming eyes, inwardly admitting once more she had never seen her friend that happy, even when Angel was 'alive' in the future. Angel was wonderful with her, and with their son, the absolute way in which he loved them, as if they were the only beings in the world he lived for, was only too obvious for her eyes, and even if she thought of it real hard, she would never come up with anything more she could possibly want for her friend. Her gaze drifted to Angel and Ilana, who she acknowledged were deeply engrossed in a conversation regarding a certain poet she, naturally, never heard of. She couldn't help but inwardly wonder over the serenity of their tone and the way they managed to stir their silver spoons in their tea in even clockwise circles, without making the slightest sound. She found herself astonished from the smallest and the most trivial of things, and it was almost addictive. This entire place was addictive, and while her friend looked, and obviously FELT at home here, she couldn't help recognizing once more how much she didn't belong. It was a sad acknowledgement to make, but not entirely. She couldn't help but feel sorry for the fact she and her best friend were parts of two completely different worlds, and at the same time she couldn't help but feel happy at the ultimate completeness and happiness which were now Buffy's share. As strange as it could have been once for Willow to imagine the blonde as a part of all this, she had to admit she fitted there only too perfectly.

"Are you alright?" she abruptly became aware of Ilana's voice.

"Forgive us, it was rather rude of us to..." her brother added, but was cut of by a wave of Willow's hands.

"It's alright, don't worry about it," she smiled. "And I'm fine."

"Are you certain?" Ilana wasn't convinced. "You seemed a bit withdrawn to me..."

The redhead offered another smile. "I was just thinking. Buffy's very lucky to have all of you in her life. She's really happy."

"She is," Angel nodded, "and I am glad for it. She...they," he corrected himself, planting a small kiss on his son's forehead, "are the most important people in the world to me, hence I put their happiness above everything else. Your opinion, as her friend, is of course, of an utmost significance for me. I appreciate it."

"You deserve it. You...well, not 'YOU' you..." she struggled to find her words.

"I understand," he grinned.

Willow sighed. "You didn't have a what you can call 'easy' relationship, I'm sure Buffy told you."

He nodded.

"But you were in love. And you were happy. YOU, no matter in what life, always made her happy, but never as much as you do now," she finished with a beam.

Angel was just about to reply, when a third voice joined the conversation.

"Good evening," Doyle appeared in the doorframe, grinning. "Ladies," he approached the table and gracefully bowed before Ilana and Willow. "You look astonishingly beautiful tonight, I must say," he kissed Ilana's hand with a smile.

She grinned shyly, perfectly used to Doyle's charming nature.

"My Lady," he bowed over Willow's hand, "Allan Doyle, at your service, miss?..."

"Willow," the redhead gulped, as her cheeks instantly reddened.

Angel laughed. "Doyle, you are embarrassing my guest," he playfully rebuked his friend, as the latter occupied the seat between him and Willow. "The Lady is a good friend of my wife. She is here for a short visit," he explained Willow to the other man.

"I see," he nodded, then faced the redhead. "Would the Lady mind if I stole her host for a spell? For the night, perhaps?"

Angel gave him a knowing look, shifting his son in his arms and snuggling him deeper into the soft blankets. "And what did you have in mind, if I may ask?"

"Hunting, my friend," Doyle patted his shoulder. "We have not done it in months. Winter is approaching, mind that."

"Doyle we are not ready for a hunting trip, we must prepare food, and..."

"We will HUNT for our food!" his friend exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air. "It is the point! Come with me, come on! Do something spontaneous for once!" he implored, which sounds ridiculous in a sense, because spontaneousness wasn't exactly his strong side either.

"Forgive me if I ask...WHAT has gotten into you?" Angel inquired in wonder.

Doyle flopped back into his seat, appearing defeated. "I am bored tonight. I cannot sit at home doing nothing!"

"So going on an unplanned hunting trip is your alternative?"

"I do not wish to go alone," he remarked with a grin, his eyes adding a silent 'but I just might'.

Angel gazed at him lingeringly, saying nothing.

"Go, Liam," Ilana reposed an encouraging hand on his arm. "It is a good idea."

"How come?" her brother wanted to know.

"You two used to like it, yet have not done it in a long while. Why would you not go? It is refreshing...a good idea indeed."

He sighed, appearing a bit more defeated by his friend than he really was. "Alright. So be it. If you two excuse us," standing up, he kissed his son's head, and carefully passed him over to his sister, making sure she held him comfortably. Ilana cradled the baby to her chest, gently lolling him back into sleep. "I must find Buffy first though. I must tell her I am leaving," he informed his friend.

"Must you ALWAYS ask the wife?" the other man exclaimed.

"Yes, and you must ask yours," Angel retorted, grinning, as he headed into the house, with Doyle in tow.

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"Well, for someone who's in five minutes going back to a place where she can vote, any comments about the place where she can't?" Buffy questioned her friend with a grin.

Willow returned her a smile. "It's incredible here. You were right. It's so captivating, I don't know if I can leave."

"You wouldn't hear me complaining..." the blonde muttered.

The redhead's smile vanished as if it never were, as sadness took over. "No, I won't. But you know that..."

"I know," her friend held up her hand.

"I don't belong here."

"And I do," Buffy smiled, lifting her eyes to gaze up at the large picture of her, Angel and Daniel that was hanged on the wall. Her green eyes glistened with tears, both of goodbye...and of happiness. She really did, and she had never known it better than she did that very moment.

"You belong perfectly," Willow grinned.

"I'll miss you, Will!" Buffy abruptly flung her arms around her friend, crying into her shoulder.

"I'll miss you too," Willow hugged her back, also in sobs. "I miss you already." Then she pulled back, and looked at the blonde, smiling through her tears. "But at least...I know now..."

"You know?..." Buffy wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.

"I know that you're happy. And it's all I need. Goodbye, Buffy," she but her lip, then leaned forward and placed a kiss on her friend's cheek.

"Goodbye, Will," Buffy whispered, when she was left alone in the room.

Part Thirty-Nine

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Angel dropped the book he'd been reading on the bed and smiled, when two hands abruptly blindfolded his eyes.

"Guess who," he heard his wife's voice.

Angel covered her hands with his and moved them to his chest. "I was wondering where you went. I hope you do know Ilana's wedding ceremony is in two hours, and the reception is here. I assume you have not even picked a gown yet."

She giggled, kissing his cheek and encircling her arms around his neck from behind. "You know me too well," she lay her chin on his shoulder. "I have a surprise for you."

"Oh," he grinned, "and what might that be?"

Buffy walked around her husband, until she stood right in front of him. "What do you think?" she asked, a somewhat conniving grin twinkling in her orbs.

"Umm…" Angel just gulped, beholding his wife. He wasn't really able to form any other words. "You look…different," he finally settled on this observation.

Buffy grinned. She had expected him to react precisely like that. In any rate, she couldn't really blame him. What she was wearing wasn't exactly an everyday gear for someone of her station…or anyone at all, for that matter, or at least, anyone who wasn't born in the twentieth century. "I asked my tailors to make that for me," she explained, perching down onto his lap. "You should have seen their faces when I showed them a sketch of what I USED to wear," she laughed, waving her hand, "they probably thought I was possessed or something. Actually, they reacted pretty much like you," she touched the tip on his nose with her index finger.

Angel smiled, once more, briefly inspecting her outfit. He had to admit it was strange, but coming from his wife, also highly expected. And…he'd give anything to know what had been going through the heads of her tailors while they had been making it. He couldn't help but chuckle at the thought.

"To tell you the truth, you're doing so much better than I expected," Buffy mused. "At least, you're still conscious," she shrugged.

"Well," he took a deep breath, "I must admit it is the strangest gear I have seen in my life, especially on a lady."

"It's just slacks and T-shirt," she grinned.

"T…what?"

"A shirt," Buffy shook her head. "Just a shirt. Haven't you ever seen a shirt?"

"Well…not of this kind, and most certainly not on a lady. It is indeed a strange outfit."

Buffy just shrugged. "Anyway, what do you think is the purpose of all this? I've been thinking, you know, on the grounds I haven't completely given up slaying, and the way things are going, I doubt I will anytime soon, why not to make myself something…more comfortable?" she saw he still didn't quite understand. "The point is, I'm tired of waiting until they invent the twentieth century clothes, so I decided to craze my seamstresses, a LITTLE, and make some of my own," she beamed.

"Oh," he let out, slowly letting all the information, that was currently too much for him, sink in.

"Exactly," Buffy smiled, shifting herself in his lap until her legs were straddling his sides and she was facing him. "Now," she bit her lip mischievously, her hands already working on the buttons of his blouse. "How much time did you say we had until the wedding?"

Angel grinned, wrapping his arms around her waist. "Two hours," he whispered, while her lips were softly and hungrily kissing his now bare chest, while her hands dug under the fabric of the shirt, peeling it off of him, exposing more for her mouth to explore.

"It's so much time," she remarked between kisses, "and I suddenly want so much to get out of these clothes."

Angel complied, as his hands slowly roamed underneath her shirt, but he never even got to pull it over her head, due to an abrupt knock on the door. "Beloved," he spoke to her, but she continued undressing him, the entire time kissing allover his body.

"Ignore," she breathed out, finally completely getting rid of his shirt.

As much as he wanted to, ESPECIALLY right now, he couldn't. "Love, it could be important."

Buffy pulled back, giving him a look. "You'll make it up to me for this," she said, a pointing glimpse in her eyes.

Angel smiled, gently lifting her off of him and getting up to get the door. "I promise."

Buffy tagged after him, encircling his waist with her arms, her hands caressing his abdomen underneath the shirt he'd put back on.

"You know, it could be one of the servants," Angel pointed out.

Buffy let go, groaning, banging her forehead against his back in mocked frustration.

"Or it could be Ilana," he said, and Buffy looked up, seeing it was his sister he had just let into the room.

"Good," she exclaimed, and before Angel knew what hit him, she jumped on him, encircling his waist with her legs and snaking her arms around him underneath his shirt.

Angel bit his lip not to giggle, but wrapped his arms around her nonetheless, averting his eyes from his sister's rapidly reddening cheeks.

"I umm…I see I am interrupting," Ilana stuttered, looking away, as Buffy started raining kisses on Angel's neck. "Buffy, what on earth are you wearing?"

Buffy stopped kissing her husband, and buried her face in his neck, giggling. After a while, she stood on her feet, turning towards her sister-in-law. "A long story, Ilana. Which I promise to tell you one day," she smiled, "so, what did you want?"

"Oh, well…I wanted to take a look at your jewelry, actually. I cannot find anything in mine that can go with my wedding gown." Suddenly, her eyes widened, and she gaped at the couple in something similar to horror. "Why are you not dressed?!"

"Unfortunately, we are," Buffy murmured, stroking Angel's chest, and making the two other people in the room blush at once.

"I," Ilana gulped, "I would better go. Excuse me for interrupting." To avoid any further sex-related comments from her brother's wife, she hurried into the adjacent chamber, where were all of Buffy's gowns, accessories and jewelry.

"It's your fault, you know," Buffy pointed out, drawing patterns on his chest with her fingertips.

"My fault?" he arched a brow, pulling her closer.

"Definitely," she planted a lone kiss on one of his nipples. "If you hadn't bought me loads of jewelry, Ilana would have had nothing to look for in there."

"Oh, I see," he smiled.

"Wait…right there," Buffy pointed with her index finger at the spot where he was standing, walking away towards the door, behind which, Ilana had disappeared only seconds ago.

"Where are you going?" Angel inquired.

Buffy stopped by the door, swiftly turning the key in it. "Done," she beamed, walking back to her husband and performing the same act with the door to their bedroom, and with the three other doors, that were leading to smaller adjacent rooms.

He gazed at her quizzically, but managed to say exactly nothing before she hauled him after her and threw him on the bed, climbing on top.

"Buffy, my sister…"

"Will use the other exit," she replied, while her tongue toyed with one of his nipples.

Angel quickly rid her off the shirt, pressing her down to his chest, and drawing her up, until his mouth found her breasts.

Buffy groaned when his lips closed around a rigid nipple, clinching his mouth to her breasts, bluntly craving for more, as she felt him hardening against her thigh. "Make it up to me," she whispered, tightening her embrace.

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"It really was a beautiful wedding," Buffy mused, as she and Angel were strolling in the gardens. "Ilana was a beautiful bride."

"So were you, my love," he kissed her knuckles softly, intertwining her arm with his.

"Strangely, our wedding doesn't seem so long ago," she mused.

"It is good, I hope," he observed, with a hint of question in his voice.

"Yeah," she smiled, looking up at him. "What they say...time flies when you're happy."

Angel smiled back, finding her lips for a soft kiss, and they both kept walking in silence.

"I saw your mother among the guests," Buffy voiced suddenly. "I never really thought she would come." *'Prayed she wouldn't' could be phrased better,* she mused.

Angel inhaled a deep breath. He could always sense whenever she felt even the trivial of pains, and it always hurt him too.

"You know, I…I guess I was fooling myself that she wouldn't come to Ilana's wedding just like she didn't come to ours. I guess I chose to be oblivious to the real reason she decided not to show at her only son's wedding. Silly me," she smirked.

Angel released her hand and encircled his arm around her bare shoulders, kissing her cheek briefly.

"Does she really hate me so much?" she inquired in a small voice.

"My love, she does not hate you…"

Buffy looked up at him sharply. "At least, have the decency not to lie to me."

Angel placed both hands on her shoulders, looking her deeply in the eye. "Do not mind my mother, darling, please. She has her temper. She is angry with you for no reason…"

"Really? I'm sure she can come up with some, if you ask real nice."

"As I said, for no reason, and she will have no choice but to stop being so obstinate and acknowledge it too. You are a wonderful person, beloved, and she will see it soon, I promise."

"It seems to me sometimes you're the only one who thinks so," Buffy murmured.

"It will happen," he smiled, propping up her chin gently. "I give you my word."

Buffy peered into his eyes for a moment, letting herself be comforted by the deepest love shining in them. Suddenly, she frowned, glancing over his shoulder. "Speaking of the devil," she took a deep breath, as they both turned to face Angel's mother, who by now had approached them.

"Mother," Angel greeted her with a somewhat wavering grin.

She nodded, extending her hand for him.

He bent over it and kissed it gracefully. "I am sure you remember my wife," he gestured with his other hand towards Buffy, who curtsied civilly.

His mother nodded in acknowledgment.

"It is wonderful to see you," he said, folding his arm with Buffy's, inwardly trying to keep his cool. "How have you been?"

"I am alright, thank you," she replied, seemingly, not half as nervous as he was.

"I sometimes wonder if you know you have a grandson," he remarked out of the blue, causing Buffy to slightly shudder from a reason he couldn't comprehend.

"The news of the birth of your heir was spread all over the precinct," she told him. "Yes, I have heard."

"He is soon to be five months old," Angel pointed, a bit coldly. "Do you not agree he should meet his grandmother?"

The elder woman glanced over to Buffy, who held her eyes fixed to the ground throughout the entire conversation, then looked back at her son. "Am I his grandmother?" she asked.

Buffy's head snapped up. The last thing she had expected is for her mother-in-law to throw THIS in her and her husband's faces. She gazed at the older woman for a moment, but her eyes were focused on her son, ostensibly completely unobservant to Buffy's presence.

Angel squeezed his wife's hand gently, indicating her he would handle it. "If I were you, I would not cross the line, mother," he told her coldly, "you can stay away from the family, it is, after all, your choice, but under no circumstances I will tolerate THIS kind of disrespect towards my wife. Am I clear?"

"I am merely pointing out facts, William," she replied, her voice restrained, but cold nonetheless. "Is he yours? If I calculate the time unerringly, he cannot be, unless a woman's pregnancy period was abated to only six months."

He gritted his teeth, while Buffy only looked away. "It is none of your concern, mother."

"Is it not?" she exclaimed. "I have always told you she was after your money, and I am now proven right. And you were fool enough, not to merely disregard my words, but also make another man's son as your legal heir!"

"He is MY son!" he hissed, rapidly running out of forbearance. "Do not dare blaming her for treachery or whoredom, do you understand? This is my wife you are speaking of, and I will not allow this! The only reason you are still here, AFTER what you have already said, is that this is Ilana's wedding, which I very much wish NOT to ruin, but if you say one more thing, I shall have you removed from the estate's grounds at once!"

"You will not dare!" she challenged.

"Will I not? Please remember it is MY house, and my wife's. There is a strict limit to what I can sustain from you, I advise you not to push it. Either you act civilly, or you leave, the choice is yours. AND my relationship with my wife BEFORE our marriage, is our business ALONE."

His mother's eyes widened in shock, as her hand flew to her mouth. "Oh, my Lord! BEFORE the wedding?…"

If it was under different circumstances, Buffy would burst with laughter at her reaction, but instead…all she felt was an unexplainable mortification.

"Have a good night, mother. Enjoy the ball." Angel bent over her hand again, and led his wife into the house.

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"I am sorry, beloved," he whispered to her, as they both were entering the ballroom. "I am sorry she upset you. I was hoping…"

"You were hopping she'd behave like a human being?" she completed his thoughts. "To tell you the truth…in a way, so was I."

"I should have never let her anywhere near you. I should have seen this confrontation coming. After all, she had been silent about it for such a long time. I am truly sorry."

Buffy took a deep breath, smiling up at him, not even thinking about correcting his mistake. "Stop. This is your sister's wedding. Something tells me she would want us to make the most of it. Don't you agree?"

He grinned, taking her hand and leading her in the direction of the dance-floor, signaling something to the musicians.

The music was instantly terminated, as they reached the dance-floor, and the formerly dancing couples around them stopped, making room for them, preparing for the new upcoming dance.

Angel unhanded Buffy's arm and bowed before her, kissing her knuckles gracefully. "May I have this dance, My Lady?" he smiled.

She curtsied, and returned him an even smile. "Certainly."

And the music started again.

Part Forty

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Buffy reposed her book on the grass and groaned. She finally gave up. Eventually, she just had to acknowledge there was no way in the world she would ever be able to concentrate on anything else. She had tried, she had to give herself that much credit. She had tried everything to keep her mind off of what was truly important. She didn't know why she couldn't stop thinking about it. It's not like she could do anything before he talked to her, which he never had.

But the worst thing was that she felt as if he COULDN'T talk to her, as if he couldn't talk, because he didn't know himself what was happening to him.

Buffy closed her eyes and sighed quietly, inclining her head on the large tree stem she was leaning her back against. She shuddered at the rumbling scream that reverberated in her mind, a memory from the previous night, when he had woken up from that horrible nightmare, having no idea what was wrong with him.

It had been going on for days now, worsening with each one that passed. These nightmares, the fact that they were consuming him from the inside, the fact that he had never before appeared so worn and so tired like he had been these days, and that he didn't know what was happening to him…

She opened her eyes and picked up the book, opening it. She had hoped it would take her mind off of everything, but after having read the same sentence a few dozen times, and still not knowing what was actually written there, she had no other choice left but to acknowledge it was no use.

Buffy closed the book again, and put it aside, this time, for good, tiredly dropping her face on her open palms.

"Buffy?"

Her head snapped up in an instant, and a little hopeful smile flickered across her lips, even though she was everything but in the mood to smile.

"I was looking for you," Angel went on.

She sighed inwardly. He abruptly seemed to be even more tired and vulnerable than usually. Whatever it was that had been tormenting him, his state had been manifestly deteriorating. "And it seems you've found me," she smiled, her eyes following his to the book next to her. "Don't spread the rumor," she grinned sheepishly, "it will ruin my reputation as someone who would have never chosen a book as her pastime a couple of years ago."

He smiled, wearily. "I will come back later…if you are busy. I will not disturb you."

"You can't," she assured him, and moved the book to her other side, patting on the emptied spot. "You look like someone with the weight of the world on your shoulders."

Angel beamed feebly, even somewhat bitterly, as he accepted her invitation and perched down next to her, inclining his head on her shoulder.

Buffy unfastened the black velvet ribbon, loosening his brown hair, and guided his head downwards onto her lap.

He complied, gradually descending, until he was lying on what was still left from the grass, with his head on her lap. Angel closed his eyes against the burning sun, which abruptly showed itself from behind heavy clouds, and shifted a bit, as she was gently running her fingers through his hair. He took Buffy's free hand and held it to his chest, mildly stroking the upside of her palm with his thumb.

"Wanna tell me about it?" his wife inquired eventually.

"Do you want to hear?"

"You know I do. I always do. What's happening?"

He sighed. "Many things, ghraw. Sometimes it feels there is so much more than I can handle."

She kissed his brow tenderly. "You think I can help?"

"Do you know what Laura told me today?"

"What?" "She had clearly quarreled with her teacher yesterday, again, and today she announced she did not want to keep on with her studies any further."

Buffy chuckled. "And since when is that out of the ordinary?"

"She was firm this time. She has made up her mind. She said she had enough school and she did not need anymore. When I offered to hire another tutor, she refused. She said she wanted to marry." "Marry?" Buffy couldn't believe. "But she's only…"

Angel opened his eyes for a moment only, gazing at her with an 'and your point is?' look.

"Sorry," Buffy half-smiled, "it's the new-fashioned me. But did you talk to her? Did you try to explain her she's wrong?"

"Of course, I did," he groaned tiredly. "I tried to speak reason into her, but it was all in vain. I tried to explain her she would need this knowledge, that adduction was necessary…but she would not listen. She was so stubborn, she minded nothing of what I was saying. She simply said she did not wish to be the child any longer and wanted to be an adult. She wanted to finally make her own decisions. I am tired," he gazed up at her, with a flicker of pure despair in his orbs he had never allowed Buffy to detect before. "I cannot do it anymore. I cannot…handle things. I cannot handle Laura. I have no potency in me for anything anymore. I could not even stand up to her long enough. I just told her to do whatever she wanted and…I just walked away. I do not have the strength to solve everything. Not anymore," he covered his face with his hands, concealing his eyes from the sun…and from HER eyes.

Buffy bent forward and placed a tender kiss on his head, removing his hands from his face and taking them in hers. "Tell me about those dreams you've been having," she prompted gently.

"I cannot…" he breathed out the words and pulled his hands out of hers, covering his face with them again, in a dull attempt to banish the images that were now so dreadfully fresh before his eyes.

Buffy bit her lip. "Angel, honey, you must tell me. I can't stop it if I don't know what IT is."

"You cannot stop it. You cannot prevail it. No one can."

"Can you, at least, tell me what you've been seeing there that's been making you scream at least once per night?"

"I cannot."

"Why?"

"I do not remember." And by looking into his eyes, Buffy knew he was being honest. He really didn't remember. He had the images with him, even long after the nightmares themselves had been over, but he couldn't find anything in common between these fragments, nor could he find their source. He lacked the interpretation of them.

"Can you…describe what you see?" Buffy strove to get at least some information out of him, so that she would have at least a lead.

"No."

"Why?"

"Because if I do not talk about it, it will vanish."

Buffy intended to try a different approach, but in a second changed her mind. It seemed to truly be the only hope he was clinging to. She didn't have the heart to deprive him from it. Instead, she simply kissed his brow again. "Go to sleep, sweetie," she suggested softly.

"No," he shook his head emphatically. "No, I cannot."

"Angel…"

"I will not sleep," he sat up. "I have been endeavoring not to sleep for days. I do everything to keep sleep from my eyes, I will not give in to it willingly."

"Angel, please," Buffy griped his arm, "you need a rest."

"I do not rest when I sleep!" he exclaimed helplessly. "I hardly rest when I am awake. There is no repose for me when those dreams begin, and I have forgotten how it was to sleep without them."

Buffy sighed, guiding him back to lie like he had before. "You won't have nightmares this time, I promise. I won't let whatever it is to take over you. Sleep. Just lie down and close your eyes. Nothing will happen to you while I'm here, I swear."

Angel finally complied, although reluctantly, and did as he was told, not forgetting to take Buffy's hand in his before closing his eyes to a yet another dark sleep, inwardly knowing it would change nothing. After all, she had also been there every single night when he had had these nightmares in their bed…and all she could do was hold him after he had woken up from them.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "Angelus!"

He ceased feeding from the breast of the girl lying underneath him and gazed up at her. "What do you want?" he growled, still in his game face.

"I thought I have made myself clear. I do not wish to see your little whores in our house!"

He merely smirked, looking away from the enraged blonde to the terrified girl underneath him. "Now, my precious," he stroked her cheek with his index finger, using his softest voice as he spoke, "let us take on from where we were so rudely interrupted."

"No," the girl shook her head desperately, her face was already flushed and moist from her many tears. She strove to oppose him, but he grabbed her small wrists in his, tightening his grip until she screamed in pain.

"Do NOT fight me," he snapped, his eyes piercing through her. "You should know by now, not to fight me. I would not want to tie you up again," he added with a devilish smirk. "I have grown very fond of you, in fact. You do not want to spoil it...do you?"

The girl closed her eyes and bit her lower lip until it bled, when he released her wrists and brutally shoved his hard shaft into her. She cried out in pain, when he pushed harder, and her hands gripped the sheet on which she lay, that was partly drenched with her own blood. She kept begging him stop, but it would only cause him hurt her more.

Abruptly, he halted, drawing out from her and sitting up, his muscular thighs straddling her small feminine frame. "You do not please me like you used to, darling," he said, letting his fingers to roam over every scar he had ever left on her body. "I told you what would happen once you stop pleasing me." Within less than a second, he violently snapped her neck. "Are you delighted now?" he spoke to the blonde woman who was still standing at the door, hands folded on her chest. Her cold eyes had beheld the entire display without blinking even once. "You demolished my evening."

"Get rid of the corpse, Angelus," she commanded firmly.

He stood up from the bed, still completely naked, and completely oblivious to his latter victim, and approached her. "So you could fill her place?" he ran his tongue over her powdered cheek, grabbing her shoulders and pressing her against him. "Perhaps, my evening is not ruined after all."

She shoved him off of her. "Do not lay a hand on me!"

"Do not play a saint, my dear," he laughed, "I know about your boys just as you know about my girls."

"I do NOT bring them to our house!"

"Perhaps, not, or perhaps, you do, while I am absent," he shrugged, grinning. "I can never break your record, my love, no matter how much I try. After all, you were a professional…"

She smacked his cheek before he could finish his sentence, her eyes burning with passion and hatred.

"It has its advantages, you realize," he ran his palm over his erection, then grinned at her again, swiftly tearing her dress open before she could, or would want to protest. He undressed her in a minute, and was holding her against him in an iron grip. "And you enjoy it just as much as I do," he remarked, a triumphant grin on his face, as he pushed his shaft into her.

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Angel bolted up to a sitting position, his horrified orbs roaming around the peaceful garden, as he tried to regain control over his body and stop trembling. A gentle hand wiped the sweat from his forehead, and his eyes sharply turned to meet Buffy's. She wrapped him in her arms, gently holding him, and he reposed his head on her chest, trying to catch his breath. And while her soothing hand was caressing his back in tender motions, that nightmare went on playing out before his eyes.

Part Forty-One

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"Liam!" Ilana flung her arms around her brother, tears of relief and joy streaming down her face, but abruptly, she backed off. "You are cold," she murmured, her gaze confused and pained as she looked down from him.

He laughed heartlessly. "Have you always been so stupid, Ilana? do you not know what happens to people after they die? They become cold...very cold," he lowered his voice, tracing a tender finger across her jawbone, "and you will too be cold soon, my dear," he beamed.

Ilana backed farther away, not taking her eyes from him. "D...dead?"

Again, that same laugh.

"No," tears streamed down her cheeks, and her sobs started choking her, "no...Liam, please, no..."

"Oh, stop!" he hit her face, which only made her cry harder. "Your brother is dead! Do you hear me? DEAD! Accustom yourself to the idea!" he pushed her off of him, a cold smile spreading across his features as he spoke on, not even looking at her. "It felt so good, to rid myself of that God damned soul. Do you know what it is like now?" he turned to her again. "I can do anything I want! No one can tell me what to do, no one can stop me..." he neared her again and she crumbled like a frightened child. "Oh, yes...the fear. The smell of fear...it is addictive, did you know that, my dear sister? So addictive I can never get enough of it!" He grabbed her and sank his fangs into her neck before she was able to let out a single breath. After a few seconds, he hurled her weakened body to the floor.

Ilana gazed at him with wide and glassy eyes, still partly unbelieving.

"Do not fear me, I will not kill you," he told her mockingly, "or at least, not right now. If I am in a very good mood, I might let you enjoy this hollowness you humans call life for a little while longer. In fact, see it as a promise, from me to you. I was just a bit hungry," he grinned, shrugging, and licked the drops of blood from his lips.

"How did you come in?" she finally managed the words out of her mouth.

He looked at her, his eyes despising as he grinned wickedly. "And why should I require an invitation? It is my house, after all, my dear. Alive or not."

The flow of tears down her face only increased with the flow of blood from the bite marks in her neck.

"How about I would go and visit little Laura, ha?" he smirked. "I am sure she has been missing her brother so, would you not agree?" he chuckled. "Our little sister...so fresh, so sweet...the blood flowing through her veins...right into me. Now we truly will be sharing the same blood," he chuckled, perceiving the panic in Ilana's orbs.

"No!!!" she screamed. "Do not hurt her, please!"

He was near her in an instant, and a second later, her neck snapped. "NEVER annoy me, Ilana," he growled at the lifeless body sprawled at his feet, smirking, "or I cannot keep my promises."

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"Hey," Buffy entered the dusky bedroom, where she found Angel sitting by the window, longingly staring outside. He hadn't even noticed she'd come in, and paid no attention to her. It looked to her like he was looking at something in particular, but in the same time it seemed to her he wasn't. She felt strange finding him like that, having no idea whatsoever why she felt that way. Buffy knew something was wrong with him. Something wasn't right. Now, it had been going on for almost two weeks, but the real changes had begun only recently. There had been several things indicating on the changes, but the nightmares seemed to be the most significant to her. He had been having them more frequently lately. He would wake up screaming a few times per night, and wouldn't calm until she held him in her arms long enough. It wasn't the only thing that disturbed her about those nightmares. What perplexed her the most was not that he had them, albeit they seemed like everything BUT ordinary bad dreams, it was that he refused to talk about them. He had shut himself out. Whenever she had attempted to ask him about them, he would decline. Lately, he would act as if he hadn't even remembered having them, and Buffy could see that most of the times it had been because he had thought that if he HADN'T talked, they would go away. He was wrong. She knew he was wrong, and she had corroboration to that assumption. He had been rapidly becoming detached, indifferent, remote…it seemed to her he hadn't wanted her around sometimes. He had been barely spending time with her lately, or with their son, always finding another evasion to be left alone.

She wanted her husband back. She wanted the gentle and kind Angel she had fallen in love with, and she felt he was practically slipping through her fingers, a little with each passing day, and soon…he would be completely gone.

"Angel?" she uttered his name gently.

He didn't turn around. Again, the same as if she weren't there. But she was! She was standing right there! She wasn't a ghost…

"Angel?" she tried again, her voice so much more pleading this time, but still…nothing, as if she were thin air. Buffy sighed and approached him. She perched behind him on the window-seat, yet he still didn't seem to have noticed her. Buffy wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him back, resting his head on her breasts, caressing his hair gently.

However, no reaction followed. His eyes remained distant and…Buffy couldn't really put her finger on it. What else was there in those eyes? Were they…cold? No…lost? Shattered? Pained? Dead?…

She crossed her arms on his chest, and he just leaned into her embrace, still staring away. Buffy kissed his hair softly, and lay her cheek on his head. "Honey, what's wrong?" she asked quietly.

He remained silent.

"What torments you so much?" she kept questioning. "You've been so quiet for…a while. You've spent the day sitting here alone in this room." She kissed his head again. "Tell me."

He sighed, slowly turning his head around to face her. "Can I..." his voice was hesitant, somewhat hurt, and somewhat uncertain, "can I…ask you something?"

She beheld him strangely. *What's going on with you?* a strange fear from the unknown crept into her. "You can ask me everything," she smiled openly.

He took a deep breath. "Did I," suddenly, he wasn't able to look her in the eye, "the future-me, did he tell you…"

"Did he tell me what?" Buffy was abruptly very nervous. She didn't have a clue concerning what was coming up, but she knew for certain she didn't like it already.

Angel looked up at her again. "Did he tell you…what he did with his family…my family? Did he tell you?"

Buffy's eyes widened in shock. Why would he be asking her that? She had been so careful about every word leaving her mouth concerning his future-self, she couldn't have told him…no, she couldn't have. She had NEVER even mentioned before him that his future-self had once been a pernicious demon. How could he have known? And yet, he wasn't JUST asking, he knew. She was sure he knew something, because otherwise, he would never be asking in the first place. He knew! Who the Hell could have told him?! Who, but HER, could have known?!

"What do you mean?" she inquired, unable to detain her voice from shaking a bit.

He closed his eyes for a brief moment, then opened them again. "Did he…did he hurt them? Any of them? Did he hurt them in any way? I have to know. Tell me the truth, please."

His voice was imploring, as if he craved for the answer for his own peace of mind.

Buffy sighed. What answer could she give him? She swore years ago she would never tell him of the truth, but…*No. No, I can't. I'll never be able to. Even if I tell him only this, it will open doors for too many dark secrets, and too much pain. I can't.* "No. He never told me," she smiled. "Angel, what made you think of it?"

He emitted a sigh of relief before answering. "I had a dream," he told her, "last night, I…I had a dream. I could not understand it."

Buffy gave him an odd, yet tender look. "Tell me about it," she caressed his cheek mildly

"I could not understand it, I…I saw people. One looked like me. He always looks like me. In all of the...dreams."

"Was it about the future? Was that why you asked?"

"No," he shook his head, "this I am certain of. I recognized the place. It looked like…like here, like home."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," he nodded, "I identified the people as well…my family…they were dead!" his eyes widened as he looked at her. "They were dead!"

Buffy gathered him into her arms, stroking his back. "It's okay, honey, it never happened. I promise you that. There must be something that triggered these fake…memories in you. We're just gotta figure out what it was, and…and everything will be okay. I promise."

Behind his back, her eyes rested on a large tree in the garden. There were numerous trees, yet her eyes had chosen that particular one. Albeit a chill she wasn't able to comprehend the reason of ran through her, Buffy shook these thoughts out of her head.

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"Angelus."

That voice again. Angel had known by now who that voice belonged to. That woman…he detested her. He hadn't even known her, yet he detested her already. That woman…she had been haunting his dreams for weeks now. No, not dreams. Nightmares. He had no longer been dreaming. He hadn't known how to dream anymore. Only nightmares. Now, there were merely nightmares. No more dreams, no more serenity, no more peace. He had been afraid to fall asleep, but sleep seemed to be overcoming him whether he willed for it or not. No more peace. Not since SHE had appeared in his life.

"Angelus."

That odious voice again.

The man in his dream turned around, and for the first time since the nightmares had begun, Angel saw her face. It wasn't muddled anymore. For the first time, he could see clearly. He hadn't even known how she'd looked like before, all he had to endure was her voice, and her presence. And now, he saw her face. And her sight terrified him. She was beautiful, he had to admit, but that kind of beauty was evil. It frightened him to the core, in a way he was not yet able to explain.

"Angelus," she spoke again, "what have you done?"

He smirked. "Nothing you have not done yourself, my dear. Oh, wait, tell me, have you let them live?"

She laughed. A cold, cruel, evil laughter. Empty. So empty, it deafened Angel. And yet, the image in the dream seemed to like that laughter, to even join it. It threw him.

"You made me proud, my dear boy," she said, "but you lack creativity, indeed, you do. But do not worry. We will take care of that as well. Too bad you have not waited for me, however. I have had so many interesting plans. I wanted to torture them before they died. Torturing the loved ones of the soul is so pleasant, my sweet. You will see as you will finish off more and more of them with time."

"Why wait? The night is still so young," he whispered sweetly.

"It is not fun this way, Angelus. The longer it takes, the greater is the pleasure you receive from it. Believe me, my love. You are still young, only a night old. You have centuries ahead of you to learn so many new things. You still have no idea how exciting the world is to someone who possesses the power I gave to you. You have still so much to learn."

"And you will teach me," he whispered seductively in her ear as he snaked his arms around her waist, pressing her back into his chest.

She smiled. "Of course, precious. I will teach you everything I know. The Master himself will soon speak of you with pride. You have an extraordinary future ahead of you, I can sense it as we speak, you were born for greatness, Angelus."

"The Master?" his tone received an inquisitive hint.

"Yes," she smiled, "the Master himself."

"I want to meet him."

"Patience, my boy. Patience. You will meet him when I will decide you are ready, do you understand?"

Angelus grinned. "Do not patronize me," he traced her collarbone with a gentle finger, until his hand abruptly closed around her slim neck. "I can kill you if I want to."

Her eyes revealed no alarm. "You improve already. You can kill everyone on this God forsaken planet if you desire so, my boy, your power allows it, but only if you learn to exploit it correctly. You must remember that only when you are being yourself, you are truly strong. When you are trying to pretend being strong, that is when you are in your weakest state," she removed his hand from around her neck. "Now, come with me. I am hungry. I see you have had your feast already, but I have only now woken up. You know I do not like being hungry for far too long, do you not?"

Angelus smiled. "It indeed was a feast." He licked his lips, turning around to face the tree next to which they were standing. "Too bad you could not join me, lover."

And that was the first time the entire tree came into view…and its branches were decorated with the dead bodies of his family.

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"No!!!!!" Angel bolted up in bed, covered with sweat and gasping for air. "No…God, no…" he kept whispering.

He only partly became aware of the two slender arms wrapping around him lovingly, and the gentle allaying words she whispered in his ear. The vision of that tree stayed with him for the rest of the night.

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