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Childish Things, Part Eighteen
"So...LA...?" It wasn't really a question. Buffy doubted she could have said what she meant by it. It was just a way to fill the silence. They had done okay for most of the day. Tara and Willow had been around, tactfully ensuring they weren't stuck together gazing into each other's eyes in a star crossed lovers fashion for most of the morning.
There had been the background hum of the television running, not to mention the occasional interjections from the people watching it; a permanent reminder that they weren't really alone, that anything meaningful they tried to say could be overheard or interrupted. Then Willow, Tara and Cordelia had gone out and it had all become perilously quiet for a while. The Alien or Aliens didn't seem to be eating anyone noisily on the TV and Xander, Gunn, and Wesley weren't discussing how cool Ripley was or how much they wanted their very own flame thrower for at least a few moments.
That was when it got difficult. That was when it was impossible not to start thinking about all the might have beens. The maybe could be somedays. But that would be the worst thing of all. To start kidding themselves with hope.
"Yes?" Angel looked at her across the kitchen table. The room darkened by closed blinds, of course, because the everyday health-giving life-giving depression-averting goodness that was sunlight would turn him to burning dust in a heartbeat. Except he didn't have one, of course, a heart, to beat or not to beat...
"What's it like?"
He shrugged. "You know, big, crowded, full of demons."
"Lucky you're such a people person, I guess."
They exchanged a mutual smirk over that. He leant back in his chair, looking absurdly stylish with his hair and his coat and that black shirt, and the body underneath it… and how did he manage to look like that without ever being able to look in a mirror anyway? It was one of the eternal mysteries.
"I'm working on it," he insisted. "Empathising. Communicating. Working on my listening skills."
"And how is that going so far?"
"It's…a work in progress. How about you?"
"Well, I haven't been kicked out of college yet."
"And…other stuff…?"
Buffy automatically reached for the cookies. "Oh yeah, I can see those communication skills are getting honed now."
"Giles filled me in on the whole Glory situation. Wish you'd let me stay and help."
"I don't think that's a good idea."
"But I…"
She looked across at him, because it was true, no one knew her like Angel knew her, it was starting to look depressingly like no one ever would. "Angel, do you know what I've been doing since you went to LA?"
He averted his eyes, hurt and anger in them which he didn't want her to see; as if she wouldn't have known exactly how he was feeling from the set of his shoulders, the flicker of his jaw. She knew him like she knew herself. They weren't just a romantic disaster area because of a gypsy curse and the whole Vampire-Slayer thing, they were practically masturbatory, they were so much the two parts of a divided whole.
"Moving on?" he said bitterly.
"I wish." She touched his arm so he had to turn around and look at her, see how frustrated she was by what they had done to one another. "You know the first thing I did to get over you? I slept with a guy who used me for a one night stand and then told his friends about how good I wasn't."
"What?" His eyes began to go yellow before he stopped himself. "Want me to kill him for you?"
"No. Well - at the time, maybe - but, no. The point is I was trying so hard to make everything not be about you that all I did was make it about you. Every guy I was involved with was the NotAngel. Hey, he has a pulse, he breathes, his heart beats, I can have sex with him without him turning into an evil soulless killer who stalks all my friends. Everything was about you. Sometimes I'm scared it always will be."
"But you had that new guy in your life…? Riley…?"
"Oh yes, that would be the one I drove crazy when he realized I didn't really love him and who ended up hanging around with vampire whores letting them drink from him?"
Angel winced. "I'm sorry." He must have sensed her cynicism because he reached across and took her hand. "I really am. I left because I wanted you to have a normal life. I didn't want you…waiting for me. There's nothing to wait for." He said that as if he were trying to convince himself. "I'm never going to be… I'm always going to be what I am." He lowered his voice then, darting a glance over her shoulder as he said it, evidently not wanting to be heard by the people in the living room. "And even if there was some…light at the end of the tunnel, it could be decades away. You already have enough obstacles between you and a normal life. I don't want to be another one. That's why I left."
"I know."
"It wasn't because I wanted to leave you. It wasn't because I didn't want to see you every day. Touch you. Taste you. See you smile." He swallowed, even though he didn't need to breathe.
She shrugged. "Well, if it's any consolation, I mostly look like crap these days - what with the constant Glory problem there's not much time for personal grooming, so the smelling thing wouldn't be too special anyway. And smiles - pretty much in short supply around here."
He also shrugged although she rather suspected he might have done it with more style. Of course, he was wearing Armani. That had to up the style factor. "Whereas in LA, of course, we're just fun fuelled party animals from dusk to dawn."
"That's what I figured. Hobnobbing with the glitterati. Rubbing shoulders with celebrities. All tinsel town shallow happy funtime."
"Absolutely. Except for the odd occasions when Wolfram & Hart are trying to drive me insane by bringing back old flames from hell or trying to kill Wes and Cordy. Oh and the times when we get the crap kicked out of us by the evil undead or one of us gets hurt. Apart from that it's partying all the way."
"I bet that's something they don't put in the Super Heroes Handbook. Right after the 'be sure to wear a stupid costume that will make you stick out like a sore thumb' there should be at least a paragraph on the lines of 'Oh and by the way, your life will utterly suck and however much evil you dust you never ever ever get time off for good behavior'."
"You should get time off." His hands were cool against hers, just the way she remembered them. That ought to make every other guy feel warm and comforting, but it didn't; she just missed that cool smoothness of his skin; that was what felt normal to her. It had felt subtly wrong sometimes when she laid her head on Riley's chest and there was that strange thumping noise it had taken her a moment to realize was the beat of his heart. "You haven't done anything wrong." He was still looking at her hand and she looked at it too. It looked small next to his. Odd to think that hers was actually stronger. This was the hand that had held the sword whose blade had…
She pulled her hand away. "Loving you wasn't a good idea. We both know that. I just can't seem to stop myself. I don't think I ever will. You’re like one of those stupid catchy jingles I can't get out of my head and however much other music I play you're always still there - jingling."
"I think of myself more as the grand operatic theme." He frowned. "Verdian maybe. Possible Wagnerian."
He was, of course, damn him for knowing it too. "I don't like opera."
"That's because you're a cultural philistine," he explained helpfully.
"I like figure skating."
"It's not exactly Les Sylphides, is it?"
"It might be. I don't know what that is." She pointed a finger. "You see, cultural chasm between us. And then there's the age gap."
"The me being dead, you being alive thing."
"Slayer - vampire. Never a good mix. I should really only sleep with vampires I don't mind staking. Disposal vampires. Just in case I get testy or go into auto-slay mode."
"Or human beings," Angel suggested gently. "That being the whole point of my incredibly selfless and heroic sacrifice, remember? That you got to have a normal life with a normal human guy?"
"They feel too hot." She dropped her voice and her gaze. "Like they have a fever. And the beat of their heart sounds so loud in the darkness. I miss the quiet, the way your chest didn't move, the way you didn't tick away in the silence like a broken alarm clock, the way your skin was always cool even when everything else was too hot to bear."
"It's better this way." Angel bent his head to meet her gaze. "Your mother wanted it this way. Your mother was usually right about most things."
"It's difficult to live without hope."
"You do have hope."
"What hope do I have?" she demanded. "That you'll wake up one day and be human and every other vampire on earth will have withered to dust in the night?"
"You found a life for yourself that wasn't to do with me. I've found one that isn't to do with you. We can survive without one another." Angel sighed. "It's the way it has to be, Buffy."
"I know it. I just don't have to like it." She sighed and then decided to shake off this depression, because what was the point in having this conversation again, ever? "So, your life in LA. Is it okay?"
He nodded. "It really is."
"Your friends seem nice. Even Cordelia which is kind of…freaky. And Wesley seems to have been de-dorkified as well. I didn't even know there was a cure for that."
"He can still be dorky. Cordy can still be…Cordyesque. But, they're…family. Of course, with my track record, that may not be such a good thing."
She shook her head. "You love them. You wouldn't hurt them."
"I loved my sister but I still ate her. I love - loved you but I still…"
"This is different. Now you know what the dangers are. You'll keep them safe. I know you will."
"If I ever turn and they have time to call you..."
She smiled then and reached across to push his hair up, so it was even more him than it had been a moment before. "They wouldn't call me, Angel. I might have what it takes to kill you and they'd never want that."
"No, they would, they know the dangers, they know..."
"They'd call Willow." Buffy closed her eyes and tried not to inhale, not that he had any scent really, or any warmth to be warmed by, but even the creak of his leather was familiar, comforting. "They may not have what it takes to stake you but I think they've got what it takes to get you back again. Given all the stupid things you've done to them this year and the fact they're still planning to ride back in your posermobile tonight, I'd say you pretty much have them where you want them. You have a horrible gift for that."
"For what?" He frowned at her in confusion and she thought how annoying it was to still love him so much with that first bright painful first pang of first love. It should feel like chewed up old old old love by now yet it still had power enough to just make her love him even more when he looked like a complete dope.
"Making people love you."
He gazed at her with those puppy dog brown eyes that still had way too much power to turn her to mush. "I don't mean to."
"I know. You just do it anyway. There should be a warning on your forehead."
He turned into vamp face; shocking when it was so sudden, out of nowhere, ridged brow, yellow eyes, pointy fangs. "Like this."
She shook her head. "It’s not enough."
“It should be.” He sighed and changed back. "They don't love me. They're mean to me. They make me have the office in the elevator and get them coffee."
"Harsh." She nodded. "But you always knew atonement would be…"
"A bitch. Yes, I know."
"Did someone call my name?" Cordelia breezed into the kitchen, loaded up with as many shopping bags as when she'd left.
Buffy looked at her shopping in confusion. "They didn't cave?"
"Oh, they caved." Willow came in behind her with Tara in tow. "They said we could only have an exchange of goods, not a refund. So, Cordy picked us all out really cool shoes. Look!" She held them up. "Totally impractical for all occasions."
Tara also held up a pair. "Mine are even more frivolous."
"Willow and Tara had no dress shoes." Cordelia dumped her bags on the table and looked at Angel. "Can you believe that? I mean - none."
"Now we have dangerous strappy ones with teeny weeny very high heels - guaranteed to break your ankle if you lose concentration even for a second." Willow gazed at her pair with a kind of awe.
Buffy examined them closely. "Do you think the people who make these could be in league with the evil undead? The noise those heels make would send out a 'come eat me' message to every vampire within six blocks and no one could ever run in them."
Willow nodded cheerfully. "They should really come with a free stake."
"Maybe they do." Tara pretended to delve into the tissue paper of her shoe box.
"Hah." Cordelia grabbed the chair in between Angel and Buffy and sat in it. "You two get dressed up, put on those shoes, and tell me if you even make it out of the door before you're U-turning for the bedroom."
"I didn't need that visual," Buffy told her.
"I enjoyed it," Angel admitted.
Tara and Willow exchanged a glance and then looked back at their shoes with more interest.
Cordelia nodded. "Trust me, girls, you will definitely score in those shoes."
Willow looked sheepish. "Actually - where Tara's concerned, I'm pretty much a sure thing."
Tara looked at her sideways. "You hussy, you."
Cordelia nodded her head at the living room. "Did those three remember to eat today?"
"Xander on self-appointed mission to get Wesley's weight up from anorexic to something approaching normal, remember?" Buffy reminded her. "They sent out for pizza and chicken wings."
"Wes isn't that thin," Angel protested. "We'd have noticed."
"I did," Cordelia reminded him. "You're just used to it."
"I don't think he's thin," Angel insisted. "He's just…not fat."
"You're 'not fat'," Cordelia countered. "Gunn's 'not fat'. Wesley's skinny."
"It must have happened since you were running the agency without me." Angel shrugged. "He was fine when I was bringing in the paying clients."
"He was emaciated!" Cordelia retorted.
"But I used to cook him breakfast. You only tried to force-feed him inedible brownies at knife point."
Buffy gazed at Angel intently. "You used to cook Wesley breakfast? Why are all my alcohol-fuelled suspicions suddenly returning at full strength?"
"He cooked me breakfast too." Cordelia looked around the kitchen. "This talk of food is making me hungry. Where are the donuts?"
Buffy looked at Willow. "Anyone else getting squicky threesome images they would rather be without?"
Tara grimaced. "I don't really find the image of Angel and Wesley squicky…"
"It's kind of hot actually," Willow admitted.
"It so isn't!" Cordelia protested. "And as for threesomes, Buffy, that include me and those two - brain-bleach time!"
Willow said hopefully, "Did you ever cook Gunn breakfast too?"
"Oh." Buffy looked around at that. "Angel, Wesley and Gunn…? That could be… Willow, why are you looking like that? Are you taking the day off from being a lesbian or something?"
"I don't know why I find it hot but I just…do." The witch looked at Tara apologetically.
Tara shrugged. "I find it hot too."
"You're all sick," Angel told them.
"Why is no one giving me donuts?" Cordelia demanded.
"There are donuts?"
Buffy started guiltily as Xander came into the kitchen, closely followed by Gunn and Wesley. She and Gunn exchanged a slightly embarrassed smile.
"Why are you all looking like that?" Xander demanded. He caught sight of Willow and Tara exchanging a guilty glance and smirked. "Okay, you two were smooching, weren't you? And I missed it."
Angel smirked. "Actually they were discussing…"
Buffy picked up a kitchen knife and glared at him. "Why don't you find some donuts for Cordelia, right now, Angel."
He patted his jacket. "Do I look like I'm hiding them?"
"On the shelf behind you, dumbass," Cordelia told him impatiently. "Where's that super vampire smell sense when it's deep fried dough and sugar, eh? You're fast enough to get it out when you're trying to work out who Wes was in bed with the night before."
As everyone looked between Angel and Wesley with renewed interest, Angel rolled his eyes. "I was making a point."
"That point being…?" Buffy coaxed.
"That Wesley sleeps with bleached blondes," Cordelia supplied helpfully. "He has like this whole secret life as…well…the easiest guy on the planet, I guess."
Wesley looked mortified. "Cordelia…"
"The point I was making was that I knew I was right about Dietta Kramer being Darla because of her scent," Angel retorted with exaggerated patience. "It had nothing to do with Wesley's sleeping arrangements. That was just an example."
"He is kind of easy though," Cordelia observed through a mouthful of donut. "I mean how long had you known Virginia before you were putting out, Wesley? Three hours? Four? Is the word 'no' even in your vocabulary or are you just a big fat - well, big thin - slut?"
"And yet he turned you down on numerous occasions right in front of us," Xander observed. "Extraordinary."
"Hey!" Cordelia stabbed a finger at him. "There was no turning down."
"You did sort of ask him out to dinner and he did sort of…not go out to dinner with you at all," Buffy observed.
Gunn looked between his co-workers in disbelief. "Cordelia used to hit on Wesley and he used to turn her down? What kind of freaky Hellmouth town is this anyway?"
"He never 'turned me down'!" Cordelia retorted. "He was clearly tempted but trying to do the gentlemanly thing, isn't that right, Wesley? And remember who you'll be going home with tonight and it's a very long car ride."
"You did just call me a slut, Cordelia." As she began to take off her dangerously pointy-looking shoe, he said hastily, "Or rather, absolutely right. I was very tempted but was trying to do the gentlemanly thing on account of Cordelia being so many years younger than I am. Definitely no 'turning down' of any kind."
"Wuss," Gunn told him.
Wesley cradled his side reflexively. "I’ve already been shot by a zombie policeman this year, remember? Not looking to get a stiletto heel there as well."
Cordelia held out the bag. "Donut, Wesley?"
"Thank you." He took one.
"No one else gets one," she told them helpfully as they all looked at her expectantly. "Shopping always gives me a sugar craving."
Xander said, "Cordy, I don't want to get violent, but I want a donut and I'll mug Wesley for his if you don't hand one over."
She rolled her eyes and held out the container. "Like I was really going to eat them all. How many are you taking? Give me them back right now. Don't make me come over there, Xander Harris!"
"Did Cordelia regress again?" Giles enquired wearily, as he came in through with Dawn.
Xander looked behind him. "Anya isn't with you?"
"She's making her daily sacrifice to the gods of retail." As everyone looked at him in horror, Giles sighed again. "Balancing the books, checking the till receipts and so on."
Xander put a hand over his heart as if to check that it was still beating. "Don't joke about things like that."
"She did send greetings to Wesley though." Giles nodded to him. "Apparently she doesn’t like any of the rest of you. Well, except for Xander. Incidentally, Xander, if you could impress upon Anya that hell will have frozen over before I want to hear anything about your sex life, I would be eternally grateful."
Cordelia put her head on one side. "Isn't it kind of weird that the only people who have a sex life these days are all geeks, losers and dorks? Shouldn't the cool people - like me - be having a sex life?"
Gunn and Buffy exchanged a glance. "I can see how she's grown as a person," said Buffy dryly.
"I said that," Angel pointed out.
Cordelia showed no sign of shame. "You know I'm right. There's no justice. Angel is kind of cool in a brooding socially retarded kind of way but he can't get laid without going psycho. Every time I make a connection with a guy with a stock portfolio I end up impregnated with demon spawn. Buffy's always had the worst taste in boyfriends ever, and Gunn, who is moderately attractive in the right kind of lighting and doesn't actually trip over his own tongue every time he talks to a woman like some people not a million miles away from him, has about as much chance of getting laid as Xander does of developing any dress sense. Willow was the nerd girl of the universe and she's got the best relationship ever. Xander is a born loser but he's getting lots of sex with Anya, and Wesley - bizarrely - seems to have turned into some kind of chick magnet since he arrived in LA. How is any of that fair or reasonable? The only person in this room one would expect not to be getting any who really isn't getting any is Giles."
Giles rolled his eyes. "Thank you, Cordelia."
"You're welcome," she told him through a mouthful of donut.
Wesley looked around the room. "Is there anyone here she hasn't insulted yet? Just trying to keep score."
Dawn held up a hand. "Me."
Gunn looked at his watch. "And if we leave now maybe we can keep it that way." He glared at Cordelia. "You diss my Dawnie and you and me are going to be having words."
"We should get more pizza first," Xander said hastily. "Have a last meal."
Angel sighed. "Xander, we do feed Wesley in LA, I promise."
"I'm not seeing any evidence of that."
"Think about it, you've been stuffing food into him since we got here. Does he look any less skinny to you than when we arrived?"
Everyone took a moment to look at Wesley critically while he shifted self-consciously under their scrutiny.
Buffy took a donut for herself, head on one side. "It's difficult to tell. He was a kid when he arrived."
"Yes, we can't really say." Willow nodded.
"I don't think of myself as 'skinny'," Wesley protested.
Cordelia snorted. "Well, everyone else in the world does, Wes."
"More…leanly muscled."
Gunn raised an eyebrow. "You have muscles?"
"Yes."
"Where?"
"Here." Wesley flexed his arm in annoyance and Gunn felt his bicep through the thin material of his sweater.
Buffy and Willow exchanged a look which Cordelia saw. "Oh eww, stop it, you two!"
Gunn snatched his hand away from Wesley. "What? I wasn't doing anything!"
"Not you two, brain donor patrol, those two, Buffy and Willow, having the thoughts again."
"No, we weren't," said Willow hastily. "And anyway - I'm a lesbian, so why - why would I be?"
Angel peered out of the window. "The sun's setting."
Giles said a heartfelt: "Thank god." At their expressions, he said: "Not that I want to be rid of you particularly, and indeed I'm going to miss Wesley's company rather more than I would normally admit, but I really can't take much more of watching Buffy and Willow behaving like hormonal teenagers."
"Why?" Buffy enquired. "We were hormonal teenagers when you first met us."
"Yes, but I was hoping there was some light at the end of that particular tunnel."
Buffy licked sugar from her fingers. "He loves us really."
Giles could only sigh again, as the truth was that, of course, he did love them deeply, but that didn't stop them being exasperating at times. Diverting as this interlude had been, with a rogue goddess out there determined to track down the key that was Buffy's sister, he really did want them to have their full attention brought to bear on that problem rather than trying to turn Angel's associates into adults or - God forbid - imagining the now adult Wesley and Gunn naked.
"Did you two remember to pack?" Cordelia demanded of Wesley and Gunn.
"Of course," Wesley said smugly, holding up his suitcase and what Cordelia persisted in referring to as his 'man purse' shoulder bag.
Gunn also lifted up a bag but jerked a thumb at Wesley. "He folds like a girl. And he made me repack everything twice."
"You'll thank me when you don't have to iron anything when we get back to LA."
Willow and Buffy exchanged another look. 'So married' Buffy mouthed at Willow who nodded her agreement.
"What did you do with your little kid stuff?"
"I have it," Angel said a little sheepishly. As everyone looked at him he rolled his eyes. "Just so I can get a refund on it."
"You'd better be telling the truth," Cordelia warned him. "If I come into work one day and find you sighing over Gunn's Winnie the Pooh PJs I'm walking straight out that door and taking my visions with me."
"Oh, talking of nostalgia, this is for you." Tara held out a paper bag to Cordelia. "It's the dress we couldn't return. We thought you might like to…"
"Yes, I would." Cordelia clasped the parcel to her protectively. "Thank you, thank you, both."
"So, if you wanted to keep that dress and you can only keep it because it's got a stain on it, didn't I do you a favor?" Gunn enquired.
Wesley gave him a pitying look. "You'd think so, wouldn't you? But it doesn't actually work like that."
"They really have to go?" Dawn looked between them wistfully.
Xander also sighed. "It was nice having some…" Seeing Willow's anguished expression he amended hastily: "Other people here as well as the people who are already here. Who are also great. Wonderful, in fact. Make that - unsurpassably perfect."
"Faker," said Willow sadly. "I knew you wanted boy friends."
"I knew it. They're sowing the seeds of discontent. They must be banished forthwith." Buffy resolutely opened the kitchen door and waved them towards the hallway.
Xander grimaced and looked hastily between Gunn and Wesley. "What Will is saying there is 'boy' - one word - 'friends' - other word. Not 'boyfriends' - which I so don't want."
"We don't either," Wesley assured him. "Not even slightly."
Gunn sighed. "One day, Wes, I just know you're going to get all cool and sophisticated, right?"
"Don't hold your breath." Cordelia swept past with her suitcase in one hand and the dress still clasped protectively to her breast.
Wesley took the suitcase from her automatically. "Allow me."
She beamed at him over her shoulder. "You may be a dork, but you are a gentleman."
He inclined his head in weary acknowledgement that this was as close to praise as he was going to get from her.
Buffy looked at Angel and thought about what kissing him would be like; remembered how it had been before; how good it always felt; human face; vamp face; human teeth or vamp fangs, his lips always felt the same, as if the only right place for them was against her mouth. She sighed. "Time for us to throw them out into the snow."
"It's a mild summer evening, Buffy," Giles pointed out.
"The house is going to feel so empty," Dawn said sadly. "First we lose the children and now we're losing the adults."
"I could sleep over?" Xander suggested.
"We could do that too if it would help?" Tara suggested diffidently.
"We'll have a pyjama party to console ourselves," Buffy assured her. "There will be dips, chips, popcorn and chocolate."
"Okay." Dawn beamed.
Gunn sighed. "How soon they forget us."
"Why can't we have pyjama parties?" Wesley enquired.
"Because Angel's too cool to do anything fun?" Cordelia suggested over her shoulder. There was no question about who would be sitting in the front next to Angel, of course. Wesley and Gunn were already resigned to having to sit in the back.
"We could have one without him." Wesley brightened at the idea. "Cordelia can we…?"
"Yes, you saddoes, you can stay over at my place, but you bring your own chips, dips, and beer, and if you puke, you die."
Wesley and Gunn beamed at one another before Gunn remembered that he was supposed to be cooler than Wesley and gave a casual shrug. "I suppose it could be okay, I guess."
"You don't have to come," Cordelia called to him while chivvying Angel to open the trunk quickly so her suitcase could be placed carefully in prime position.
"No, it's cool," Gunn said quickly.
"How come I'm not even invited?" Angel demanded, obediently opening the trunk.
Cordelia snorted. "Like you'd even know how to have a pyjama party. Did they even have pyjamas in Olden Times? Put it there, Wesley, where Angel's ratty old bag can protect it if we go over a bump."
"They had nightgowns." Wesley carefully placed the suitcase where he was told.
Gunn frowned. "Didn't that make the wind whistle right up your…?" Remembering Dawn he turned the end of his sentence into a cough.
Dawn looked at Buffy. "Aren't they sweet?"
"Adorable. They're like the Tamagotchi detectives. Every home should have one."
"I have pyjamas," Angel insisted. "I can wear pyjamas."
Cordelia sighed and looked across at Buffy. "Have you thought about some kind of exchange program? You know, I lend you my guys when Xander wants to watch some boring war movie, you lend me your girls when I want to have a proper pyjama party with nail polish application and bitching about old boyfriends and eating cookie-dough?"
"We could bitch about your old boyfriends," Gunn put in. "Well, okay, I couldn't because I've only met one of them and I like him, no, hang on, two, if you count Wes, and I like both of them, but I'm right there with you on the cookie dough."
"I could bitch about Wilson Christopher," Angel insisted. "I met him. I hit him. And I met that other one, Pierce. He was kind of an asshole."
"There was the frat party guy too," Xander put in. "The one who tried to sacrifice her to a snake demon so he could get all rich and powerful."
"Oh!" Buffy looked up. "And the one who came back as Frankenstein's Monster."
"Daryl Epps," Willow supplied helpfully.
"Oh yes," Dawn remembered. "And then there was…"
Cordelia looked at Wesley and Gunn. "You two - not looking so bad now as pyjama party candidates."
"We don't have to wear nail varnish, do we?" Wesley enquired.
She rolled her eyes and looked around at the town. "Just taking a moment here to remember when I had cool friends. Actually, come to think of it, they were pretty much shallow airheads with a shoe fetish - don't even think about saying it, Wesley, unless you want to get used to pain - and the people here who were worth bothering about I never really appreciated until now." She looked at Willow and then sighed. "That's you, by the way, Willow. And okay, the rest of you, too. I'm going to miss you." Her voice gave a little quaver over that last sentence and Wesley and Gunn hastily averted their eyes so as to give her a moment to get herself back under control.
Willow enveloped her in a hug. "We're going to miss you too."
"Thanks for everything," Cordelia said tearfully.
Wesley and Gunn darted sideways looks to monitor the situation as Cordelia hugged everyone in turn, even rather awkwardly, Giles. "Happy slaying," she told Buffy in a voice that definitely sounded a little choked up. "And that god-bitch - I just know you're going to kick her skanky omnipotent ass."
Gunn stepped forward as Cordelia turned away to wipe her eyes. "More of a manly handshake kind of guy." He put out his hand and shook everyone's solemnly in turn.
Angel looked at Wesley. "I hate goodbyes."
Buffy made a point of giving Wesley a hug. He looked surprised but not at all unhappy about it, murmuring, "Oh…" as she hugged him.
"Take care of yourself, Wesley," she told him. "No more getting yourself tortured or shot or beaten up by vamps."
"You too," he said.
Willow and Tara also hugged him fondly, while Dawn gave him a peck on the cheek. He looked very confused by the attention but extremely touched. Xander stuck out a hand. "Sorry about last time - being such a bastard to you."
"Sorry about being such a colossal jerk and general waste of space," Wesley responded cheerfully.
"That's okay. Remember to eat, won't you?"
"You too. And thanks for…well, everything." Wesley turned to Giles and smiled at him tentatively. "I don't really know what to say. I feel I owe you a great deal."
"I feel that as Englishmen we're probably best suited to avoiding anything that might be construed as an emotional farewell."
Wesley smiled in relief and nodded. "Absolutely. So - thanks for the tea and Jaffa cakes - oh yes and for taking a concussion on my behalf and restoring me to adult size. Good luck with the evil deity from a hell dimension and let's hope England can repeat last year's showing in the Test Match."
"We can only hope." Giles shook his hand gently. "Good luck, Wesley. May your chosen one prove considerably less problematic to Watch for than mine."
"I'm not holding my breath on that score but thank you for the sentiment." Wesley stepped back, nodded to everyone, and then slipped into the back of the car in which Gunn had already taken refuge.
Angel brightened. "I'm your Chosen One?"
"No, you're the Chosen One of the Powers That… Oh never mind. The point is that I ran out of Slayers," Wesley told him through the half open window. "And you were the only other Champion left - well, who doesn't reside in Gotham City."
"Cat Woman." Gunn sighed happily. "Wonder if she needs a Watcher? And a friend of a Watcher with a really cool axe?"
"Sheesh, what is it about guys and girls in tight fitting leather costumes?" Cordelia demanded from the front seat. "I mean when Wes turned up in LA wearing… Okay, bad example."
"What happened?" Gunn enquired.
"I wasn't checking him out," Angel said at once.
Cordelia rolled her eyes. "No, I kissed him, you doofus, but it wasn't because of the leather pants - not that they weren't a good look for him - it was because of the... Oh never mind. Go and get the big romantic angsty farewell scene out of the way so we can go home and feel sorry for ourselves." As she waved Angel away she said to the two in the back: "You two, don't look. The real miracle is that some string quartet hasn't started up."
"How bad is the whole star-crossed lovers thing with those two?" Gunn asked Cordelia in a stage whisper that carried further than a shout.
"About as bad as it gets." She turned around in the seat to talk to him better. "Romeo and Juliet have nothing on these two. I mean, okay - dead for love, boo hoo - but compared with the whole 'I'm a vampire, you're a Slayer, my gypsy curse will keep us apart for all eternity and if it doesn't - look out, world, human kebab time' I don't think they were such a big deal. And then there's the whole 'had to send him to hell to save the world' thing. And there's the first love thing and the 'oh I had no purpose until I saw you from my place in the sewers eating rats' thing. Basically, it's complicated and being around it - well, imagine you're stuck in a really bad seat at the opera, one behind a pillar, and the soprano has a cold and the tenor is like really fat, and when people die they die for real and it's the opera that never ends - kind of what it's like being around those two."
As Gunn and Wesley both automatically went to look out of the window to see how the tragic farewell was progressing, Cordelia hissed, "Don't look!"
"How will we know when it's over?" Wesley asked reasonably.
"Because I get into the car like this." Angel closed the door behind him and looked at their surprised faces. "Not like it's our first goodbye. We've pretty much got it down by now."
"But don't they usually involve a big production number?" Cordelia frowned. "Don't you have to trash your surroundings or each other or something?"
"Sometimes we just say 'goodbye'." Angel switched on the ignition, looking so sad as he did so that Wesley and Gunn both exchanged a wincing look of sympathy for him and Cordelia leant across to kiss his cheek.
"You still have us. And we know you love us because of all the fussing over us you did when we were kids. So, that's better than nothing, right?"
For all her confidence she looked insecure as she said it, brown eyes uncertain, still clasping that parcel from Willow and Tara to her chest. He gazed at her and then turned around to look at Wesley and Gunn. "It's a lot better than nothing," he told them emphatically. "And sometimes it's damned near everything."
They drove away from Sunnydale with a forlorn party watching them go and waving goodbye from the sidewalk while Wesley, Gunn and Cordelia all suddenly found that they had something in their eye.
***
The End
"So...LA...?" It wasn't really a question. Buffy doubted she could have said what she meant by it. It was just a way to fill the silence. They had done okay for most of the day. Tara and Willow had been around, tactfully ensuring they weren't stuck together gazing into each other's eyes in a star crossed lovers fashion for most of the morning.
There had been the background hum of the television running, not to mention the occasional interjections from the people watching it; a permanent reminder that they weren't really alone, that anything meaningful they tried to say could be overheard or interrupted. Then Willow, Tara and Cordelia had gone out and it had all become perilously quiet for a while. The Alien or Aliens didn't seem to be eating anyone noisily on the TV and Xander, Gunn, and Wesley weren't discussing how cool Ripley was or how much they wanted their very own flame thrower for at least a few moments.
That was when it got difficult. That was when it was impossible not to start thinking about all the might have beens. The maybe could be somedays. But that would be the worst thing of all. To start kidding themselves with hope.
"Yes?" Angel looked at her across the kitchen table. The room darkened by closed blinds, of course, because the everyday health-giving life-giving depression-averting goodness that was sunlight would turn him to burning dust in a heartbeat. Except he didn't have one, of course, a heart, to beat or not to beat...
"What's it like?"
He shrugged. "You know, big, crowded, full of demons."
"Lucky you're such a people person, I guess."
They exchanged a mutual smirk over that. He leant back in his chair, looking absurdly stylish with his hair and his coat and that black shirt, and the body underneath it… and how did he manage to look like that without ever being able to look in a mirror anyway? It was one of the eternal mysteries.
"I'm working on it," he insisted. "Empathising. Communicating. Working on my listening skills."
"And how is that going so far?"
"It's…a work in progress. How about you?"
"Well, I haven't been kicked out of college yet."
"And…other stuff…?"
Buffy automatically reached for the cookies. "Oh yeah, I can see those communication skills are getting honed now."
"Giles filled me in on the whole Glory situation. Wish you'd let me stay and help."
"I don't think that's a good idea."
"But I…"
She looked across at him, because it was true, no one knew her like Angel knew her, it was starting to look depressingly like no one ever would. "Angel, do you know what I've been doing since you went to LA?"
He averted his eyes, hurt and anger in them which he didn't want her to see; as if she wouldn't have known exactly how he was feeling from the set of his shoulders, the flicker of his jaw. She knew him like she knew herself. They weren't just a romantic disaster area because of a gypsy curse and the whole Vampire-Slayer thing, they were practically masturbatory, they were so much the two parts of a divided whole.
"Moving on?" he said bitterly.
"I wish." She touched his arm so he had to turn around and look at her, see how frustrated she was by what they had done to one another. "You know the first thing I did to get over you? I slept with a guy who used me for a one night stand and then told his friends about how good I wasn't."
"What?" His eyes began to go yellow before he stopped himself. "Want me to kill him for you?"
"No. Well - at the time, maybe - but, no. The point is I was trying so hard to make everything not be about you that all I did was make it about you. Every guy I was involved with was the NotAngel. Hey, he has a pulse, he breathes, his heart beats, I can have sex with him without him turning into an evil soulless killer who stalks all my friends. Everything was about you. Sometimes I'm scared it always will be."
"But you had that new guy in your life…? Riley…?"
"Oh yes, that would be the one I drove crazy when he realized I didn't really love him and who ended up hanging around with vampire whores letting them drink from him?"
Angel winced. "I'm sorry." He must have sensed her cynicism because he reached across and took her hand. "I really am. I left because I wanted you to have a normal life. I didn't want you…waiting for me. There's nothing to wait for." He said that as if he were trying to convince himself. "I'm never going to be… I'm always going to be what I am." He lowered his voice then, darting a glance over her shoulder as he said it, evidently not wanting to be heard by the people in the living room. "And even if there was some…light at the end of the tunnel, it could be decades away. You already have enough obstacles between you and a normal life. I don't want to be another one. That's why I left."
"I know."
"It wasn't because I wanted to leave you. It wasn't because I didn't want to see you every day. Touch you. Taste you. See you smile." He swallowed, even though he didn't need to breathe.
She shrugged. "Well, if it's any consolation, I mostly look like crap these days - what with the constant Glory problem there's not much time for personal grooming, so the smelling thing wouldn't be too special anyway. And smiles - pretty much in short supply around here."
He also shrugged although she rather suspected he might have done it with more style. Of course, he was wearing Armani. That had to up the style factor. "Whereas in LA, of course, we're just fun fuelled party animals from dusk to dawn."
"That's what I figured. Hobnobbing with the glitterati. Rubbing shoulders with celebrities. All tinsel town shallow happy funtime."
"Absolutely. Except for the odd occasions when Wolfram & Hart are trying to drive me insane by bringing back old flames from hell or trying to kill Wes and Cordy. Oh and the times when we get the crap kicked out of us by the evil undead or one of us gets hurt. Apart from that it's partying all the way."
"I bet that's something they don't put in the Super Heroes Handbook. Right after the 'be sure to wear a stupid costume that will make you stick out like a sore thumb' there should be at least a paragraph on the lines of 'Oh and by the way, your life will utterly suck and however much evil you dust you never ever ever get time off for good behavior'."
"You should get time off." His hands were cool against hers, just the way she remembered them. That ought to make every other guy feel warm and comforting, but it didn't; she just missed that cool smoothness of his skin; that was what felt normal to her. It had felt subtly wrong sometimes when she laid her head on Riley's chest and there was that strange thumping noise it had taken her a moment to realize was the beat of his heart. "You haven't done anything wrong." He was still looking at her hand and she looked at it too. It looked small next to his. Odd to think that hers was actually stronger. This was the hand that had held the sword whose blade had…
She pulled her hand away. "Loving you wasn't a good idea. We both know that. I just can't seem to stop myself. I don't think I ever will. You’re like one of those stupid catchy jingles I can't get out of my head and however much other music I play you're always still there - jingling."
"I think of myself more as the grand operatic theme." He frowned. "Verdian maybe. Possible Wagnerian."
He was, of course, damn him for knowing it too. "I don't like opera."
"That's because you're a cultural philistine," he explained helpfully.
"I like figure skating."
"It's not exactly Les Sylphides, is it?"
"It might be. I don't know what that is." She pointed a finger. "You see, cultural chasm between us. And then there's the age gap."
"The me being dead, you being alive thing."
"Slayer - vampire. Never a good mix. I should really only sleep with vampires I don't mind staking. Disposal vampires. Just in case I get testy or go into auto-slay mode."
"Or human beings," Angel suggested gently. "That being the whole point of my incredibly selfless and heroic sacrifice, remember? That you got to have a normal life with a normal human guy?"
"They feel too hot." She dropped her voice and her gaze. "Like they have a fever. And the beat of their heart sounds so loud in the darkness. I miss the quiet, the way your chest didn't move, the way you didn't tick away in the silence like a broken alarm clock, the way your skin was always cool even when everything else was too hot to bear."
"It's better this way." Angel bent his head to meet her gaze. "Your mother wanted it this way. Your mother was usually right about most things."
"It's difficult to live without hope."
"You do have hope."
"What hope do I have?" she demanded. "That you'll wake up one day and be human and every other vampire on earth will have withered to dust in the night?"
"You found a life for yourself that wasn't to do with me. I've found one that isn't to do with you. We can survive without one another." Angel sighed. "It's the way it has to be, Buffy."
"I know it. I just don't have to like it." She sighed and then decided to shake off this depression, because what was the point in having this conversation again, ever? "So, your life in LA. Is it okay?"
He nodded. "It really is."
"Your friends seem nice. Even Cordelia which is kind of…freaky. And Wesley seems to have been de-dorkified as well. I didn't even know there was a cure for that."
"He can still be dorky. Cordy can still be…Cordyesque. But, they're…family. Of course, with my track record, that may not be such a good thing."
She shook her head. "You love them. You wouldn't hurt them."
"I loved my sister but I still ate her. I love - loved you but I still…"
"This is different. Now you know what the dangers are. You'll keep them safe. I know you will."
"If I ever turn and they have time to call you..."
She smiled then and reached across to push his hair up, so it was even more him than it had been a moment before. "They wouldn't call me, Angel. I might have what it takes to kill you and they'd never want that."
"No, they would, they know the dangers, they know..."
"They'd call Willow." Buffy closed her eyes and tried not to inhale, not that he had any scent really, or any warmth to be warmed by, but even the creak of his leather was familiar, comforting. "They may not have what it takes to stake you but I think they've got what it takes to get you back again. Given all the stupid things you've done to them this year and the fact they're still planning to ride back in your posermobile tonight, I'd say you pretty much have them where you want them. You have a horrible gift for that."
"For what?" He frowned at her in confusion and she thought how annoying it was to still love him so much with that first bright painful first pang of first love. It should feel like chewed up old old old love by now yet it still had power enough to just make her love him even more when he looked like a complete dope.
"Making people love you."
He gazed at her with those puppy dog brown eyes that still had way too much power to turn her to mush. "I don't mean to."
"I know. You just do it anyway. There should be a warning on your forehead."
He turned into vamp face; shocking when it was so sudden, out of nowhere, ridged brow, yellow eyes, pointy fangs. "Like this."
She shook her head. "It’s not enough."
“It should be.” He sighed and changed back. "They don't love me. They're mean to me. They make me have the office in the elevator and get them coffee."
"Harsh." She nodded. "But you always knew atonement would be…"
"A bitch. Yes, I know."
"Did someone call my name?" Cordelia breezed into the kitchen, loaded up with as many shopping bags as when she'd left.
Buffy looked at her shopping in confusion. "They didn't cave?"
"Oh, they caved." Willow came in behind her with Tara in tow. "They said we could only have an exchange of goods, not a refund. So, Cordy picked us all out really cool shoes. Look!" She held them up. "Totally impractical for all occasions."
Tara also held up a pair. "Mine are even more frivolous."
"Willow and Tara had no dress shoes." Cordelia dumped her bags on the table and looked at Angel. "Can you believe that? I mean - none."
"Now we have dangerous strappy ones with teeny weeny very high heels - guaranteed to break your ankle if you lose concentration even for a second." Willow gazed at her pair with a kind of awe.
Buffy examined them closely. "Do you think the people who make these could be in league with the evil undead? The noise those heels make would send out a 'come eat me' message to every vampire within six blocks and no one could ever run in them."
Willow nodded cheerfully. "They should really come with a free stake."
"Maybe they do." Tara pretended to delve into the tissue paper of her shoe box.
"Hah." Cordelia grabbed the chair in between Angel and Buffy and sat in it. "You two get dressed up, put on those shoes, and tell me if you even make it out of the door before you're U-turning for the bedroom."
"I didn't need that visual," Buffy told her.
"I enjoyed it," Angel admitted.
Tara and Willow exchanged a glance and then looked back at their shoes with more interest.
Cordelia nodded. "Trust me, girls, you will definitely score in those shoes."
Willow looked sheepish. "Actually - where Tara's concerned, I'm pretty much a sure thing."
Tara looked at her sideways. "You hussy, you."
Cordelia nodded her head at the living room. "Did those three remember to eat today?"
"Xander on self-appointed mission to get Wesley's weight up from anorexic to something approaching normal, remember?" Buffy reminded her. "They sent out for pizza and chicken wings."
"Wes isn't that thin," Angel protested. "We'd have noticed."
"I did," Cordelia reminded him. "You're just used to it."
"I don't think he's thin," Angel insisted. "He's just…not fat."
"You're 'not fat'," Cordelia countered. "Gunn's 'not fat'. Wesley's skinny."
"It must have happened since you were running the agency without me." Angel shrugged. "He was fine when I was bringing in the paying clients."
"He was emaciated!" Cordelia retorted.
"But I used to cook him breakfast. You only tried to force-feed him inedible brownies at knife point."
Buffy gazed at Angel intently. "You used to cook Wesley breakfast? Why are all my alcohol-fuelled suspicions suddenly returning at full strength?"
"He cooked me breakfast too." Cordelia looked around the kitchen. "This talk of food is making me hungry. Where are the donuts?"
Buffy looked at Willow. "Anyone else getting squicky threesome images they would rather be without?"
Tara grimaced. "I don't really find the image of Angel and Wesley squicky…"
"It's kind of hot actually," Willow admitted.
"It so isn't!" Cordelia protested. "And as for threesomes, Buffy, that include me and those two - brain-bleach time!"
Willow said hopefully, "Did you ever cook Gunn breakfast too?"
"Oh." Buffy looked around at that. "Angel, Wesley and Gunn…? That could be… Willow, why are you looking like that? Are you taking the day off from being a lesbian or something?"
"I don't know why I find it hot but I just…do." The witch looked at Tara apologetically.
Tara shrugged. "I find it hot too."
"You're all sick," Angel told them.
"Why is no one giving me donuts?" Cordelia demanded.
"There are donuts?"
Buffy started guiltily as Xander came into the kitchen, closely followed by Gunn and Wesley. She and Gunn exchanged a slightly embarrassed smile.
"Why are you all looking like that?" Xander demanded. He caught sight of Willow and Tara exchanging a guilty glance and smirked. "Okay, you two were smooching, weren't you? And I missed it."
Angel smirked. "Actually they were discussing…"
Buffy picked up a kitchen knife and glared at him. "Why don't you find some donuts for Cordelia, right now, Angel."
He patted his jacket. "Do I look like I'm hiding them?"
"On the shelf behind you, dumbass," Cordelia told him impatiently. "Where's that super vampire smell sense when it's deep fried dough and sugar, eh? You're fast enough to get it out when you're trying to work out who Wes was in bed with the night before."
As everyone looked between Angel and Wesley with renewed interest, Angel rolled his eyes. "I was making a point."
"That point being…?" Buffy coaxed.
"That Wesley sleeps with bleached blondes," Cordelia supplied helpfully. "He has like this whole secret life as…well…the easiest guy on the planet, I guess."
Wesley looked mortified. "Cordelia…"
"The point I was making was that I knew I was right about Dietta Kramer being Darla because of her scent," Angel retorted with exaggerated patience. "It had nothing to do with Wesley's sleeping arrangements. That was just an example."
"He is kind of easy though," Cordelia observed through a mouthful of donut. "I mean how long had you known Virginia before you were putting out, Wesley? Three hours? Four? Is the word 'no' even in your vocabulary or are you just a big fat - well, big thin - slut?"
"And yet he turned you down on numerous occasions right in front of us," Xander observed. "Extraordinary."
"Hey!" Cordelia stabbed a finger at him. "There was no turning down."
"You did sort of ask him out to dinner and he did sort of…not go out to dinner with you at all," Buffy observed.
Gunn looked between his co-workers in disbelief. "Cordelia used to hit on Wesley and he used to turn her down? What kind of freaky Hellmouth town is this anyway?"
"He never 'turned me down'!" Cordelia retorted. "He was clearly tempted but trying to do the gentlemanly thing, isn't that right, Wesley? And remember who you'll be going home with tonight and it's a very long car ride."
"You did just call me a slut, Cordelia." As she began to take off her dangerously pointy-looking shoe, he said hastily, "Or rather, absolutely right. I was very tempted but was trying to do the gentlemanly thing on account of Cordelia being so many years younger than I am. Definitely no 'turning down' of any kind."
"Wuss," Gunn told him.
Wesley cradled his side reflexively. "I’ve already been shot by a zombie policeman this year, remember? Not looking to get a stiletto heel there as well."
Cordelia held out the bag. "Donut, Wesley?"
"Thank you." He took one.
"No one else gets one," she told them helpfully as they all looked at her expectantly. "Shopping always gives me a sugar craving."
Xander said, "Cordy, I don't want to get violent, but I want a donut and I'll mug Wesley for his if you don't hand one over."
She rolled her eyes and held out the container. "Like I was really going to eat them all. How many are you taking? Give me them back right now. Don't make me come over there, Xander Harris!"
"Did Cordelia regress again?" Giles enquired wearily, as he came in through with Dawn.
Xander looked behind him. "Anya isn't with you?"
"She's making her daily sacrifice to the gods of retail." As everyone looked at him in horror, Giles sighed again. "Balancing the books, checking the till receipts and so on."
Xander put a hand over his heart as if to check that it was still beating. "Don't joke about things like that."
"She did send greetings to Wesley though." Giles nodded to him. "Apparently she doesn’t like any of the rest of you. Well, except for Xander. Incidentally, Xander, if you could impress upon Anya that hell will have frozen over before I want to hear anything about your sex life, I would be eternally grateful."
Cordelia put her head on one side. "Isn't it kind of weird that the only people who have a sex life these days are all geeks, losers and dorks? Shouldn't the cool people - like me - be having a sex life?"
Gunn and Buffy exchanged a glance. "I can see how she's grown as a person," said Buffy dryly.
"I said that," Angel pointed out.
Cordelia showed no sign of shame. "You know I'm right. There's no justice. Angel is kind of cool in a brooding socially retarded kind of way but he can't get laid without going psycho. Every time I make a connection with a guy with a stock portfolio I end up impregnated with demon spawn. Buffy's always had the worst taste in boyfriends ever, and Gunn, who is moderately attractive in the right kind of lighting and doesn't actually trip over his own tongue every time he talks to a woman like some people not a million miles away from him, has about as much chance of getting laid as Xander does of developing any dress sense. Willow was the nerd girl of the universe and she's got the best relationship ever. Xander is a born loser but he's getting lots of sex with Anya, and Wesley - bizarrely - seems to have turned into some kind of chick magnet since he arrived in LA. How is any of that fair or reasonable? The only person in this room one would expect not to be getting any who really isn't getting any is Giles."
Giles rolled his eyes. "Thank you, Cordelia."
"You're welcome," she told him through a mouthful of donut.
Wesley looked around the room. "Is there anyone here she hasn't insulted yet? Just trying to keep score."
Dawn held up a hand. "Me."
Gunn looked at his watch. "And if we leave now maybe we can keep it that way." He glared at Cordelia. "You diss my Dawnie and you and me are going to be having words."
"We should get more pizza first," Xander said hastily. "Have a last meal."
Angel sighed. "Xander, we do feed Wesley in LA, I promise."
"I'm not seeing any evidence of that."
"Think about it, you've been stuffing food into him since we got here. Does he look any less skinny to you than when we arrived?"
Everyone took a moment to look at Wesley critically while he shifted self-consciously under their scrutiny.
Buffy took a donut for herself, head on one side. "It's difficult to tell. He was a kid when he arrived."
"Yes, we can't really say." Willow nodded.
"I don't think of myself as 'skinny'," Wesley protested.
Cordelia snorted. "Well, everyone else in the world does, Wes."
"More…leanly muscled."
Gunn raised an eyebrow. "You have muscles?"
"Yes."
"Where?"
"Here." Wesley flexed his arm in annoyance and Gunn felt his bicep through the thin material of his sweater.
Buffy and Willow exchanged a look which Cordelia saw. "Oh eww, stop it, you two!"
Gunn snatched his hand away from Wesley. "What? I wasn't doing anything!"
"Not you two, brain donor patrol, those two, Buffy and Willow, having the thoughts again."
"No, we weren't," said Willow hastily. "And anyway - I'm a lesbian, so why - why would I be?"
Angel peered out of the window. "The sun's setting."
Giles said a heartfelt: "Thank god." At their expressions, he said: "Not that I want to be rid of you particularly, and indeed I'm going to miss Wesley's company rather more than I would normally admit, but I really can't take much more of watching Buffy and Willow behaving like hormonal teenagers."
"Why?" Buffy enquired. "We were hormonal teenagers when you first met us."
"Yes, but I was hoping there was some light at the end of that particular tunnel."
Buffy licked sugar from her fingers. "He loves us really."
Giles could only sigh again, as the truth was that, of course, he did love them deeply, but that didn't stop them being exasperating at times. Diverting as this interlude had been, with a rogue goddess out there determined to track down the key that was Buffy's sister, he really did want them to have their full attention brought to bear on that problem rather than trying to turn Angel's associates into adults or - God forbid - imagining the now adult Wesley and Gunn naked.
"Did you two remember to pack?" Cordelia demanded of Wesley and Gunn.
"Of course," Wesley said smugly, holding up his suitcase and what Cordelia persisted in referring to as his 'man purse' shoulder bag.
Gunn also lifted up a bag but jerked a thumb at Wesley. "He folds like a girl. And he made me repack everything twice."
"You'll thank me when you don't have to iron anything when we get back to LA."
Willow and Buffy exchanged another look. 'So married' Buffy mouthed at Willow who nodded her agreement.
"What did you do with your little kid stuff?"
"I have it," Angel said a little sheepishly. As everyone looked at him he rolled his eyes. "Just so I can get a refund on it."
"You'd better be telling the truth," Cordelia warned him. "If I come into work one day and find you sighing over Gunn's Winnie the Pooh PJs I'm walking straight out that door and taking my visions with me."
"Oh, talking of nostalgia, this is for you." Tara held out a paper bag to Cordelia. "It's the dress we couldn't return. We thought you might like to…"
"Yes, I would." Cordelia clasped the parcel to her protectively. "Thank you, thank you, both."
"So, if you wanted to keep that dress and you can only keep it because it's got a stain on it, didn't I do you a favor?" Gunn enquired.
Wesley gave him a pitying look. "You'd think so, wouldn't you? But it doesn't actually work like that."
"They really have to go?" Dawn looked between them wistfully.
Xander also sighed. "It was nice having some…" Seeing Willow's anguished expression he amended hastily: "Other people here as well as the people who are already here. Who are also great. Wonderful, in fact. Make that - unsurpassably perfect."
"Faker," said Willow sadly. "I knew you wanted boy friends."
"I knew it. They're sowing the seeds of discontent. They must be banished forthwith." Buffy resolutely opened the kitchen door and waved them towards the hallway.
Xander grimaced and looked hastily between Gunn and Wesley. "What Will is saying there is 'boy' - one word - 'friends' - other word. Not 'boyfriends' - which I so don't want."
"We don't either," Wesley assured him. "Not even slightly."
Gunn sighed. "One day, Wes, I just know you're going to get all cool and sophisticated, right?"
"Don't hold your breath." Cordelia swept past with her suitcase in one hand and the dress still clasped protectively to her breast.
Wesley took the suitcase from her automatically. "Allow me."
She beamed at him over her shoulder. "You may be a dork, but you are a gentleman."
He inclined his head in weary acknowledgement that this was as close to praise as he was going to get from her.
Buffy looked at Angel and thought about what kissing him would be like; remembered how it had been before; how good it always felt; human face; vamp face; human teeth or vamp fangs, his lips always felt the same, as if the only right place for them was against her mouth. She sighed. "Time for us to throw them out into the snow."
"It's a mild summer evening, Buffy," Giles pointed out.
"The house is going to feel so empty," Dawn said sadly. "First we lose the children and now we're losing the adults."
"I could sleep over?" Xander suggested.
"We could do that too if it would help?" Tara suggested diffidently.
"We'll have a pyjama party to console ourselves," Buffy assured her. "There will be dips, chips, popcorn and chocolate."
"Okay." Dawn beamed.
Gunn sighed. "How soon they forget us."
"Why can't we have pyjama parties?" Wesley enquired.
"Because Angel's too cool to do anything fun?" Cordelia suggested over her shoulder. There was no question about who would be sitting in the front next to Angel, of course. Wesley and Gunn were already resigned to having to sit in the back.
"We could have one without him." Wesley brightened at the idea. "Cordelia can we…?"
"Yes, you saddoes, you can stay over at my place, but you bring your own chips, dips, and beer, and if you puke, you die."
Wesley and Gunn beamed at one another before Gunn remembered that he was supposed to be cooler than Wesley and gave a casual shrug. "I suppose it could be okay, I guess."
"You don't have to come," Cordelia called to him while chivvying Angel to open the trunk quickly so her suitcase could be placed carefully in prime position.
"No, it's cool," Gunn said quickly.
"How come I'm not even invited?" Angel demanded, obediently opening the trunk.
Cordelia snorted. "Like you'd even know how to have a pyjama party. Did they even have pyjamas in Olden Times? Put it there, Wesley, where Angel's ratty old bag can protect it if we go over a bump."
"They had nightgowns." Wesley carefully placed the suitcase where he was told.
Gunn frowned. "Didn't that make the wind whistle right up your…?" Remembering Dawn he turned the end of his sentence into a cough.
Dawn looked at Buffy. "Aren't they sweet?"
"Adorable. They're like the Tamagotchi detectives. Every home should have one."
"I have pyjamas," Angel insisted. "I can wear pyjamas."
Cordelia sighed and looked across at Buffy. "Have you thought about some kind of exchange program? You know, I lend you my guys when Xander wants to watch some boring war movie, you lend me your girls when I want to have a proper pyjama party with nail polish application and bitching about old boyfriends and eating cookie-dough?"
"We could bitch about your old boyfriends," Gunn put in. "Well, okay, I couldn't because I've only met one of them and I like him, no, hang on, two, if you count Wes, and I like both of them, but I'm right there with you on the cookie dough."
"I could bitch about Wilson Christopher," Angel insisted. "I met him. I hit him. And I met that other one, Pierce. He was kind of an asshole."
"There was the frat party guy too," Xander put in. "The one who tried to sacrifice her to a snake demon so he could get all rich and powerful."
"Oh!" Buffy looked up. "And the one who came back as Frankenstein's Monster."
"Daryl Epps," Willow supplied helpfully.
"Oh yes," Dawn remembered. "And then there was…"
Cordelia looked at Wesley and Gunn. "You two - not looking so bad now as pyjama party candidates."
"We don't have to wear nail varnish, do we?" Wesley enquired.
She rolled her eyes and looked around at the town. "Just taking a moment here to remember when I had cool friends. Actually, come to think of it, they were pretty much shallow airheads with a shoe fetish - don't even think about saying it, Wesley, unless you want to get used to pain - and the people here who were worth bothering about I never really appreciated until now." She looked at Willow and then sighed. "That's you, by the way, Willow. And okay, the rest of you, too. I'm going to miss you." Her voice gave a little quaver over that last sentence and Wesley and Gunn hastily averted their eyes so as to give her a moment to get herself back under control.
Willow enveloped her in a hug. "We're going to miss you too."
"Thanks for everything," Cordelia said tearfully.
Wesley and Gunn darted sideways looks to monitor the situation as Cordelia hugged everyone in turn, even rather awkwardly, Giles. "Happy slaying," she told Buffy in a voice that definitely sounded a little choked up. "And that god-bitch - I just know you're going to kick her skanky omnipotent ass."
Gunn stepped forward as Cordelia turned away to wipe her eyes. "More of a manly handshake kind of guy." He put out his hand and shook everyone's solemnly in turn.
Angel looked at Wesley. "I hate goodbyes."
Buffy made a point of giving Wesley a hug. He looked surprised but not at all unhappy about it, murmuring, "Oh…" as she hugged him.
"Take care of yourself, Wesley," she told him. "No more getting yourself tortured or shot or beaten up by vamps."
"You too," he said.
Willow and Tara also hugged him fondly, while Dawn gave him a peck on the cheek. He looked very confused by the attention but extremely touched. Xander stuck out a hand. "Sorry about last time - being such a bastard to you."
"Sorry about being such a colossal jerk and general waste of space," Wesley responded cheerfully.
"That's okay. Remember to eat, won't you?"
"You too. And thanks for…well, everything." Wesley turned to Giles and smiled at him tentatively. "I don't really know what to say. I feel I owe you a great deal."
"I feel that as Englishmen we're probably best suited to avoiding anything that might be construed as an emotional farewell."
Wesley smiled in relief and nodded. "Absolutely. So - thanks for the tea and Jaffa cakes - oh yes and for taking a concussion on my behalf and restoring me to adult size. Good luck with the evil deity from a hell dimension and let's hope England can repeat last year's showing in the Test Match."
"We can only hope." Giles shook his hand gently. "Good luck, Wesley. May your chosen one prove considerably less problematic to Watch for than mine."
"I'm not holding my breath on that score but thank you for the sentiment." Wesley stepped back, nodded to everyone, and then slipped into the back of the car in which Gunn had already taken refuge.
Angel brightened. "I'm your Chosen One?"
"No, you're the Chosen One of the Powers That… Oh never mind. The point is that I ran out of Slayers," Wesley told him through the half open window. "And you were the only other Champion left - well, who doesn't reside in Gotham City."
"Cat Woman." Gunn sighed happily. "Wonder if she needs a Watcher? And a friend of a Watcher with a really cool axe?"
"Sheesh, what is it about guys and girls in tight fitting leather costumes?" Cordelia demanded from the front seat. "I mean when Wes turned up in LA wearing… Okay, bad example."
"What happened?" Gunn enquired.
"I wasn't checking him out," Angel said at once.
Cordelia rolled her eyes. "No, I kissed him, you doofus, but it wasn't because of the leather pants - not that they weren't a good look for him - it was because of the... Oh never mind. Go and get the big romantic angsty farewell scene out of the way so we can go home and feel sorry for ourselves." As she waved Angel away she said to the two in the back: "You two, don't look. The real miracle is that some string quartet hasn't started up."
"How bad is the whole star-crossed lovers thing with those two?" Gunn asked Cordelia in a stage whisper that carried further than a shout.
"About as bad as it gets." She turned around in the seat to talk to him better. "Romeo and Juliet have nothing on these two. I mean, okay - dead for love, boo hoo - but compared with the whole 'I'm a vampire, you're a Slayer, my gypsy curse will keep us apart for all eternity and if it doesn't - look out, world, human kebab time' I don't think they were such a big deal. And then there's the whole 'had to send him to hell to save the world' thing. And there's the first love thing and the 'oh I had no purpose until I saw you from my place in the sewers eating rats' thing. Basically, it's complicated and being around it - well, imagine you're stuck in a really bad seat at the opera, one behind a pillar, and the soprano has a cold and the tenor is like really fat, and when people die they die for real and it's the opera that never ends - kind of what it's like being around those two."
As Gunn and Wesley both automatically went to look out of the window to see how the tragic farewell was progressing, Cordelia hissed, "Don't look!"
"How will we know when it's over?" Wesley asked reasonably.
"Because I get into the car like this." Angel closed the door behind him and looked at their surprised faces. "Not like it's our first goodbye. We've pretty much got it down by now."
"But don't they usually involve a big production number?" Cordelia frowned. "Don't you have to trash your surroundings or each other or something?"
"Sometimes we just say 'goodbye'." Angel switched on the ignition, looking so sad as he did so that Wesley and Gunn both exchanged a wincing look of sympathy for him and Cordelia leant across to kiss his cheek.
"You still have us. And we know you love us because of all the fussing over us you did when we were kids. So, that's better than nothing, right?"
For all her confidence she looked insecure as she said it, brown eyes uncertain, still clasping that parcel from Willow and Tara to her chest. He gazed at her and then turned around to look at Wesley and Gunn. "It's a lot better than nothing," he told them emphatically. "And sometimes it's damned near everything."
They drove away from Sunnydale with a forlorn party watching them go and waving goodbye from the sidewalk while Wesley, Gunn and Cordelia all suddenly found that they had something in their eye.
***
The End