Flood
by Valyssia
And All the King's Men
[reviews]
I must leave it behind and climb to a new place now. This ground is not the rock I thought it to be.
Peering down the sidewalk at the front of the formalwear store, Buffy took in the squad cars, spectators, and crime scene tape, grumbling under her breath, "Oh, you gotta be kidding me."
"It's okay, Buffy, we'll just go to the mall," Willow offered reassuringly. As she turned to leave, a familiar face caught her eye. Starting to jog down the sidewalk toward the crime scene, she called over her shoulder, "I'll be right back."
This'd be a whole hell of a lot easier to take with Darvocet. Moving out of the path of foot traffic, Buffy propped herself casually against the brick wall between two stores to wait, leaning the crutches beside her. She rolled her eyes and mumbled, "Just peachy. Prom's tomorrow night, no dress, and the tinglies I'm feeling are telling me this is hellmouthy." Several minutes passed and Willow moved out of the crowd with one of the people Buffy most wanted to see: Cordelia Chase. Great...more angst for the drama that is my life. Thanks. Needed that.
"It was awful," Cordy said as she walked up, remarking snidely when she saw Buffy, "And where there's awful, had to figure you'd be around."
Willow turned toward the cheerleader and snapped, "Lay off, Cordy."
Glancing from the crutches to Buffy and back again, Cordy's expression turned curious. "What's up with you?"
After gathering up her crutches, Buffy replied dryly, "Not much." I so don't wanna get into this. Tucking the crutches under her arms, she gave Willow an annoyed glance and took off down the sidewalk at a rapid pace. Not even sure where I'm going other than 'away.' It's close enough for now. By the time Willow caught up, she was almost two blocks from the dress shop.
Willow implored, "Buffy, wait!"
Obviously struggling to keep her temper in check, Buffy slowed, then stopped. She took a deep breath and turned to face Willow, appearing much calmer than seconds before. "Yeah, Will?"
"Cordy said she'd give us a ride to the mall."
Buffy took one look at the concern etched all over her friend's face and put on her best smile to cover. "Alright." I need to get a grip. Placate. Good word. It's my word for the week. Not gonna use it though. Someone might think I actually paid attention in English class...and we wouldn't want that. A genuine smile replaced the forced one.
"She said she'd bring the car around."
"Wow, Will. That's, like, almost nice. How'd you get her to do that?" Buffy asked with genuine interest.
Willow winked and teased, "A lady never reveals her secrets. It kills that 'mystery' thing."
Rolling her eyes, Buffy ventured, "You paid her?" as she watched Cordelia pull into a parking lot just down the street to wait for them.
A look of mock indignation flashed across Willow's face, quickly replaced by a warm smile. She matched pace with Buffy as they made their way to Cordy's car.
Buffy watched her friend climb in the back seat, then passed her crutches off. Blatantly ignoring the looks Cordy was giving her, she sat in the passenger seat and pulled her leg into position with both hands. One word and I'll be buying two dresses, Cordy. She shut the door and the car immediately started to move. I don't own enough black clothes. You'd think I would...given... Grateful for the silence, she leaned back in the seat and closed her eyes. Enjoying the warmth of the sunlight and the gentle breeze, she placed her hand over Willow's when it came to rest on her shoulder.
After negotiating a turn onto a busy main thoroughfare, Cordy glanced in the rearview to make eye contact with the redhead and asked, "So what's the deal with you and Oz?" After several moments when no answer was given, she continued to pry, "'Cause word is you two are past tense. So me, I'm thinking you must've— What was it Xander called it? Ah, yeah, you must've had another little 'fluke'." She glanced down at Buffy's leg and commented, "Get another girl hurt in the process too?" Her gaze traveled up to Buffy's shoulder and she gasped, "Oh! No way!" then Cordy squeaked in pain.
Buffy bent Cordelia's wrist back as she reflected, "Y'know, Cordy, it's a beautiful spring day—birds are singing, sun's shining...and there's not even that much of a halo around it from the L.A. smog. To make this picture that much more perfect, we're in a convertible." She sighed whimsically as she wrenched Cordelia's hand back just a touch more, smiling when her victim winced and tried to pull away. "What does Cordelia Chase choose to do with such a lovely day? Keep her mouth closed and enjoy it?" She mocked puzzlement by tapping her finger against her cheek. "No. Cordy—" she gestured vaguely "—being the brain-trust she is, decides to piss off a slayer." As the car rolled to a halt, Buffy released the hand. "Shut up and drive, Cordy."
Cordy massaged her wrist for moment, seemingly unconcerned that she was blocking traffic in a forty-mile-per-hour zone. When she realized that there was nothing wrong with it other than a little stiffness, she appeared to debate what to do.
Buffy glanced in the rearview to look at Willow. The expression of shock plastered across her friend's face caused the slayer to giggle. Well, so much for 'placate.' "Drive, Cordy," she repeated firmly. When the car began to move again, she settled back in her seat and closed her eyes. Eventually Willow's hand returned to her shoulder and she took it.
The sun, silence, and scenery lasted a few moments more and Buffy completely enjoyed them. All too soon she was picking up the dead weight that was her right leg and swinging it out of the car. When Willow handed her the crutches, she rose and moved away from the car. "Thanks, Cordy," she offered politely while the cheerleader sped wordlessly away.
As they made their way into the mall Willow asked with a smile. "Were you defending me?"
"I dunno—I suppose... Frankly, it was as much me defending me, though. Maybe, me defending 'us'? Anyway, she did hit the mark with deadly accuracy...and she would've kept hitting... It's just not in Cordy's nature to know when to stop without prompts. So, I gave her one," Buffy reflected stream of consciousness. When she glanced over at her friend, Willow was grinning. "Nice I can still make you happy. It might be one of my few useful skills," she commented, turning right to head into Macy's to browse.
Willow chided, "Oh, I dunno about that," following her friend, "But it's definitely one of your more endearing ones."
Buffy made her way patiently though the mall with Willow in tow, making suggestions and, more importantly, keeping her mind off the pain. Finally, in a women's clothing shop called The Vanity, Buffy found what she was looking for: a simple, elegant, floor-length, satin gown that would cover the fresh scars on her back. It was even a good color: pale cream.
Willow helped her to the changing room with the dress. I just hope it's the right length 'cause there's no time to get it altered and I can't exactly wear heels. As Buffy strained to undress and slip the gown over her head, a tear leaked out. She mopped it absently away and turned to the changing room door, opening it so Willow could help her with the zipper. When the dress was closed in the back, Buffy faced the mirror.
"Oh," Willow gasped and offered, "It's beautiful, Buffy."
Studying herself in the mirror, Buffy checked the length and drawled, "Glad you like. 'Cause I'm about..." trailing off into thought. Yeah...this works...one more dress. Weird feeling; I sorta felt this way with the Master, though...and Mom picked that one.
Buffy forced a smile and, using the walls for support, turned around. This is it. The dress I'm gonna die in.
***********
Appearing exhausted, Willow frowned as her gaze fixed on a piece of paper taped to her patio door. She tore the note down and read it. Crawford St.? Weird. Why would Giles want me to go there? 'Kay, well, whatever. If it was anyone else... After stowing her book bag in her room, she traipsed back outside and set off for Angel's old mansion.
Sticking to a heavily trafficked and well lit route put several more blocks on the journey, but Willow knew better than to push it after dark in Sunnydale. Despite her fatigue, she traveled at a brisk pace.
Anxiety etched her features as Willow considered, I gotta wonder what's going on with Buffy. The look on her face when she picked out her dress was just creepy. I'm pretty sure she didn't realize she was doing it. She's seriously freaking me out.
That thing with Cordy was weird too; Buffy's not like that with people. That's the sorta thing she does to the bad.
Briefly massaging her temples as she moved, Willow cast her gaze at the ground in front of her. She was in pain—lots of pain. I caught that. I could feel it if I focused. But she shouldn't be. I was there tonight helping her with the 'range of motion' exercises when Mrs. Summers came in with her pills. She took them. I saw it.
What if she didn't? But she did. But what if she didn't? I know Mrs. Summers has been being careful because, well— What if—? Did I look away too long?
Willow thought back and sighed. Yeah...she asked me to help her get ready for bed right after. I got out some jammies for her.
"Gosh darn it, I'm dumb," Willow murmured and ran her hand nervously through her hair. She used the fact that I'm— Buffy changing in the same room...umm...after... It's freaksome. I'm afraid I'll ogle. I don't wanna ogle. And well...she played me. Has to be it. Dammit! She played me.
Coming to a halt, Willow hesitated as she considered turning around to go back to Buffy's house. She won't have enough. It's not time yet. The dress, the pills, the details, they all point to after prom. Doing anything now could just make it worse.
Willow set off again, nervously doubling her previous pace. I need to know what's up with Giles. Him asking like this—it's weird.
***********
Faith looked across the table at Giles, trying to size him up. So, the mayor's history. No denyin' the luck. I sorta owe 'em for leaving me free and clear. Not much left to worry about 'cept for the Council sending more goons. I think Angel pretty much took down the best of the bunch, so... She couldn't help but smile with relief, stifling a laugh when Giles mistook the gesture and returned the smile.
Giles stood up and left the room when a knock sounded from the front door.
Faith was bored to death and staring at her hands when the weirdest sensation struck her. What the fuck! She was flying through the air, but nothing had touched her. A second, or maybe two ticked by before she smashed into the far wall, hanging with her feet off the floor. The pressure on her chest didn't relent when she hit and she was soon gasping and flailing.
Willow rounded on the slayer as Giles tried to peel her off. She completely ignored him as if he were simply insignificant.
Faith peered bleary eyed at the redhead. She wasn't sure if she was imagining that they were both hanging in the air or not. None of this made sense to her. She struggled to understand what her attacker was saying, but the words sounded foreign and distant.
Giles was shouting now, pulling at Willow trying to get her to stop.
The point of focus traveled from Faith's chest to her throat and she gagged as she took in the expression of pure hatred on her aggressor's face.
As Willow's voice gradually grew muddier, Faith's vision clouded and spotted, finally going as blank as the voice. She was vaguely aware of a conflict taking place around her. Eventually everything faded mercifully black.
***********
Angel sat regarding the younger Watcher who had been equally silent during most of the meeting thus far. Trusting this young man was intensely difficult, given his position. A knock sounded from the door and Angel reflected, Finally, we can move on. Talk of hellhounds, while interesting, is not exactly the reason we're here. It'll give Faith a chance to prove herself, but—
Giles moved from the table to get the door.
Angel slid back from the table and stood up. It's a fair bet that Willow won't be happy to see us. After moving across the room to take position in a shadowy corner, he stood patiently waiting for the young woman to join them. He watched their shadows creep through the open doorway on the same wall.
Then everything went straight to hell.
Faith's chair toppled over backwards as she was thrown from it by some unseen force. The slayer went careening across the room at a startling rate and was pinned midway up the wall where she hung, gagging for breath.
When Willow entered the room, she wasn't walking; instead she appeared to be floating on a vortex of air that caused her hair and clothing to billow as it flowed around her. It was as though she was caught in her own personal storm and very much out of control. Rage filled her voice as she rasped, "Tell me, Giles, why'd you bring this thing here? Did you want this? Did you expect me to play nice with the trash that tried to murder the woman I love?"
Angel chanced a glance at Wesley, taking his eyes from the drama unfolding in the middle of the room. The younger Englishman had fled from his seat and now stood wide-eyed opposite Angel against the far wall. At least he's out of the way.
Appearing desperate, Giles followed her, trying to appeal to the witch, "Willow, you must stop this!"
Alright, so, I may have underestimated how unhappy. Angel watched this with mixed interest, focusing mostly on the witch. This was not the same shy young woman they all knew. Besides what was readily obvious, she simply didn't feel the same. Something had broken, releasing this new aspect.
Entirely ignoring Giles, Willow closed in on her victim. "I gave you a pass once, Faith. Cut you slack 'cause I couldn't—not in front of Buffy. I didn't want her to see me as some sorta monster, I didn't wanna scare her, so, I let her—"
Faith was fading, she hung unconscious against the wall. It was now or never. Angel flew from his position, hurling himself at the witch. He hit her midsection, breaking her hold on the slayer. They both crashed into the ground while Faith slipped down the wall, collapsing into a heap. Sliding across the smooth floor, he crushed Willow into the far wall. As Wesley scrambled away from them, Faith began to gasp reflexively for breath.
Angel heaved himself up, checking Willow for injuries. She'll be fine. He glanced over his shoulder to see that Giles was doing the same for Faith.
As the redhead started to stir, Angel spoke in a soft, thoughtful voice, "I love Buffy too, Willow."
Willow groaned and peered muzzily up at the vampire.
"People make mistakes. You know this," Angel offered with a sigh, "They get caught up in things they shouldn't. And once you're caught up, leaving can be the hardest thing in the world. Change is scary."
"You really think—?"
Angel sensed the anger again and cut the witch off, "I don't know, Willow, but we'll never know if we don't give her a chance. There's still hope. I know you see this." He offered a hand to help her sit up. As she rose, he continued, "And if she tries to pull a fast one you have my word I'll make it right. One more chance. That's all I ask."
Composing herself, Willow nodded grudgingly, then stiffly pushed herself to her feet and moved sluggishly to the table. "There was a reason you asked me to come, Giles?" she queried gruffly as she took a seat.
***********
Faith barreled through the cemetery at top speed, vaulting the obstacles in her path. Fuck! Who knew Red was gonna go all Dark Phoenix on me. I mean, I guess that's what that was. Not like I gotta good look. She was sorta slinging me around like a rag doll after all. I got that she and B. were tight, but— Wow!
Sensing Angel behind her, Faith knew, if she slowed for a second, it'd be over. She leapt the cemetery wall, barely catching the wrought iron spikes in her hands. Funny, dunno where I'm going other than 'away.' Seems to happen a lot. Hazard of my life. When jumping a fence between two houses, she splashed into a kiddie pool, faltering only to recover seconds later. Her sneakers squished on her feet as she continued to run. Shit!
The gap was closing. Faith listened intently; Angel had leapt the pool cleanly. I'm screwed. Springing onto the hood of a parked car, she skimmed across its breadth. As she landed in the street, her legs were ripped out from under her. Flipping over the top of the car, she bounced off the pavement and slid to a stop. Rolling onto her back, only to watch the vehicle speed away, she groaned as Angel peered down at her.
Angel swept the slayer gently up and began to carry her away as he spoke, "You get a whole lot harder to protect when you rabbit like that, Faith. I was talking Willow down when you bolted. Unlike some of us, killing just doesn't come naturally to her. She should be fine. How about you?"
Hanging limp in Angel's arms, "Jury's still out, but I might live," Faith replied groggily.
***********
Willow sat, vaguely listening to accounts of Norse legend. It sounded like the sort of thing you might tell a child at bedtime, but she knew better than to discount such things. Most of what she now knew to be absolute fact had once sounded like fairy tales to her.
Willow's gaze traveled between faces as she listened. Giles looked unusually pale, almost ill. Angel sat regarding her with interest as though he were studying her. Faith appeared barely aware of her surroundings. She looked as if she'd been beaten. I wonder what Angel did to her. Only Wesley seemed unruffled by the events of the evening. I don't feel bad. I'm not gonna say sorry 'cause I'm not. It's just that simple. Faith deserves a lot worse than I could give her.
"Through my Council contacts I was able to uncover further evidence that does indeed suggest a journey was undertaken by these men," Wesley offered. Noting the wince at the mention of the word 'Council,' he amended, "I assure you that I am neither your enemy, nor a spy. For my part, I have been reporting to the Council that Miss Summers is recovering nicely and that her duties are being performed."
Willow perked up, scrutinizing Wesley intently. He appeared to be telling the truth. Interesting.
"What Mr. Giles and I need to know is: if this evidence should come to fruition, it will no doubt involve a quest of some description. We will require others to undertake this. I myself am no warrior, a fact which seems to provide Mr. Giles with no end of amusement." Wesley returned the slight grin Giles was giving him.
"I'm in," Angel replied firmly, "And where I go, Faith goes."
Faith lay with her arms folded on the table and her forehead resting on top of them. Speaking without looking up, she remarked dryly, "Sounds like I've got loads of choice."
"You don't, Faith. It's either my way, or I toss you to the wolves, a few of which are sitting at this table."
Quirking an eyebrow, Willow regarded Angel for a moment. She could feel a slight grin pulling at her lips. She didn't need a mirror to understand why everyone was looking at her the way they were. Huh. A promotion: from sheep to wolf in one night. Kinda nifty. Wonder what Buffy would say? Wonder what Giles will say? Bet that won't be fun. But I'm still not sorry.
***********
What the hell am I still doin' here? If I was smart I'd bail. Faith looked down at the borrowed dress and sneered. At least to change. Wearin' Dru's old castoffs, so not my thing. I look like a ren faire reject. A noise from the hedgerow drew her attention and she moved out of position at the school's front door to investigate. Pulling the radio from her purse, she reported, "Think I got company. Double-O Snivel's still not back, so I'm just gonna go deal."
"Check back in five, Faith," Angel's voice sounded over the radio.
Stalking across the quad, Faith replied, "You got it." As she fumbled to put the radio away, Faith was thrown across the lawn. Tumbling, she smashed into a concrete bench. A groan crept out. After flipping onto her feet, she faced her attacker and grumbled, "Take it easy, Chewie." What the hell? Not like I'm an expert—I leave that sorta thing to the pocket protector crowd—but I thought hellhound's were supposed to be pooches, like the four legged kind. This thing looks like a werewolf. Claws and teeth givin' me a wicked case of the nerves. My luck, I'll end up with the strange urge to piss on every fire hydrant I pass.
The hellhound didn't seem impressed. It snarled and sprung at her again. She sidestepped the attack, trying to swing into a kick. When she raised her leg the tight gown bound at her ankles, causing her to falter. There was a ripping sound as the dress split down the seam and she flopped over onto her back.
"Son of a—!" Faith spat, cutting off when the hellhound pounced on her again. She seized the creature by its throat while it snapped at her face, trying to push it away. Its claws swung wildly at her as she rolled to the right, shoving it away. She quickly kicked off onto her feet once more.
When the hellhound launched at her again, she locked her arm around its throat. As it struggled, she pushed against its forehead with her freehand and drove her thigh up into its chest. There was a satisfying snapping noise as its neck broke. She held it for a moment more to make sure it was dead. After releasing the corpse, she fished out the walkie and huffed, "Two down."
"Good work, Faith," Angel replied encouragingly over the shortwave radio.
"Yeah...whatever," Faith groused, absently tucking her falling hair behind her ears as she trudged back to her post. Guess, it's not that bad a gig.
Who am I kidding? One more dress and it's over. I'd rather take my chances. Faith chuckled.
***********
Pausing to hold the door for her 'date,' Willow entered the gym. 'Kay, so...we're here. Now what? Now I smile and act like I'm having fun. A bright smile lit her face as she looked around. Bad music: check. Cheesy decorations and terrible lighting: check. Bet the food's awful too. Oh...'kay...I can do this.
Buffy stopped at her friend's side to look around for Giles and Xander. Spying them on the far end of the room, she set off at a leisurely pace around the dance floor.
It could be worse. I'm with the prettiest girl here. Willow followed the blonde round the edge of the gym, vaguely watching the couples dance to a slow number and hoping she wouldn't see Oz. Thankfully, he hadn't come. When they arrived next to a smiling Giles, Willow prompted, "Take a seat, Buffy. I wanna try something, 'kay?"
"Sure, Will," Buffy replied, using her crutches to lower herself onto a chair.
Willow stooped down in front of the blonde, letting her dress fan out around her. "Now, I'm not getting fresh," she remarked with a slight blush, looking up to see Buffy grinning at her.
Giles moved over to speak with the girls. "How are you ladies this evening?"
Willow shrugged, "Okay," and glanced up at Giles as she positioned Buffy's leg with a slight bend at the knee.
Buffy glanced up at Giles and smiled before offering a noncommittal, "Doing good."
Xander joined the gathering around Buffy's chair, looking conspicuously alone. "Hi," he offered sullenly, "Have either of you seen Anya?"
Giles' brow furrowed. "Why, yes, she left several minutes ago with Wesley. I thought you were aware."
Xander frowned and stalked off to search for his date.
Buffy choked as she struggled to stifle a laugh. Leaning down, she remarked quietly to Willow, "That makes two."
Appearing confused, "Two?" Willow prompted.
"Two women Xander's lost to that cheesy, Pierce Brosnan wanna-be," Buffy hissed softly through the mirth.
"Be nice, you," Willow whispered as she grinned and shook her head.
Making eye contact with Willow, Buffy reflected, "I am nice. I'm the model of niceness and nicety. It doesn't get any nicer than me. I am the nicest girl you'd ever want to meet."
Willow murmured, "You're the only girl I ever want to meet, but that still wasn't nice." After placing her hand on Buffy's knee, she muttered the word, "thicken," and focused on localizing the spell just around the joint. Standing up, she reflected, "I'm not sure how long I'll be able to keep that up, but it should make it lots easier on you," and offered a hand down to help the blonde rise.
Buffy rose from her chair and immediately felt the difference.
Smiling brightly at her friend, Willow said, "Leave the crutches. I wanna dance."
Buffy's brow furrowed with uncertainty as she noted, "But, Will, I kinda need them. I sorta fall over without them. Well, I can hop, but hopping, it's not exactly dancing."
Willow instructed patiently, "Set the crutches down and put your arm around me." When the blonde complied, Willow focused and began to guide them both toward the dance floor. "It's like the pencil only bigger, Buffy."
"'Kay," Buffy replied uneasily, "Long as I don't end up sticking out of a wall."
Turning to put her arms around her friend, Willow commented wryly, "If you're a nice girl—shouldn't be a problem." As the blonde embraced her, Willow began to move them both to the music. "You can lead if you want, so long as you stay in contact." Willow was a bit taken aback when Buffy nestled her head in the crux of her shoulder and began to slow-dance. The song they were dancing to had an enthusiastic techno rhythm and they were soon attracting attention. "Umm...Buffy?" she prompted, glancing down to make eye contact. Umm...wow. She looks content. Me and my big mouth.
"Yeah, Will?" Buffy drawled lazily.
"Never mind," Willow tried to cover quickly. She was content. With me even. With everything and with me.
Buffy's face crinkled with concern. Withdrawing, she asked, "Huh?"
Willow kicked herself, not literally because that would hurt. Couldn't just leave well enough alone. "It's just that...you don't have to slow-dance. As long as we're touching you can do what you want."
"Oh," Buffy gasped, "I guess I should—" glancing around to see the other couples around them dancing briskly to the raucous beat.
Giving her dance partner a sheepish grin, Willow commented regretfully, "Maybe, but I won't complain again if you wanna—"
Buffy pulled away and began to experiment. With a little trial and error, she found that she didn't need to stay in direct contact all the time. She started to sway her hips and move her arms in time to the music, touching Willow every other beat just to keep the connection alive. When the next song started, she was laughing and having a good time.
Willow smiled. Keeping up with her dance partner under normal circumstances was hard. This was almost painful, but seeing Buffy actually having fun made her willing to do just about anything. I just hope the next song is—
Buffy had discovered she could move around her friend by pushing off. By the middle of the second song she was literally dancing circles around the witch.
Willow caught herself mid-sigh, when the next song queued was a slow ballad. As Buffy swung around to face her, just a little too quickly to look natural, the redhead giggled. "Can I try something—I mean it may feel funny, but I read and you know me. I read and then with the ideas...and sometimes the badness," Willow stammered bashfully as her dance partner nuzzled up to her.
"Long as the badness doesn't involve me hitting a wall at mach-two, I'm good," Buffy teased.
They were starting to get more looks, but Willow brushed them off and enjoyed the dance. As they moved together, she gently started to siphon small amounts of the slayer's natural magical energy. Umm...wow! I could go a lot farther with this, but I don't wanna scare her. Just enough to keep us going until she wants a break.
After tilting her head to make eye contact, Buffy asked in a soft concerned voice, "Whatcha doing, Will? It feels—I dunno—a little weird, maybe?"
Appearing guilty, Willow gasped "Oh," and ceased channeling. Nervous energy took over and she babbled to cover, "I was just—it's just really hard to— I mean, if it bothers you, I can stop. Well, I did stop, but I can never do it again."
"Relax, Will, I'm not upset," Buffy replied, punctuating with a sigh, "You're giving me something amazing—something I never thought I'd have again. If you need something in return, take it, I'm yours."
Unruffled by the last minute attempt to fluster her, Willow reestablished the subtle power-tap before she began to gently chide, "But, Buffy, you're gonna get better. You gotta believe that." I know exactly what she thinks, but I can't tip my cards.
"But what if I don't? Tonight may be it. It may be the last time we'll be in this place with these people," Buffy whispered just above the music, gradually trailing off as she voiced the final thought. Before her friend had a chance to comment, she added, "Not gonna worry about it now, though. We're here to celebrate, remember?"
Willow started to reply, "Er...umm..." and stymied. She had an actual answer formulated and right on the tip of her tongue when it all went flooey.
As the song came to a close, Buffy lifted her head and gave her dance partner a gentle, loving kiss. "Thank you, Will."
I was gonna be mad about something. It was an important something. Willow opened her mouth to speak and immediately snapped it shut. Her brow furrowed as she tried to remember.
Buffy amusedly watched fish-face go through a couple more cycles before the redhead gave up and simply looked aggravated. Chuckling, she remarked, "Boy! Quite an effect. You're the first person I've ever kissed who got annoyed. I must be losing my touch."
Rolling her eyes, Willow asked, "Something to drink?"
"Lead on," Buffy affirmed.
***********
Angel straightened his jacket and opened the door for a young couple. When they were safely out of earshot, he keyed the microphone to his shortwave radio and asked, "How things looking over there, Faith?"
"Well jeepers, Boss, Shaggy here's still British, so I guess we're doin' okay," Faith's voice sounded back, "How's tricks on your end?"
Grinning wryly, Angel replied, "Since the girls went in, I've been promoted to Sunnydale High's official doorman."
"So, y'think two's gonna be it?"
His brow crinkled pensively before Angel responded, "I have no idea, Faith. I say we hold till the show's over."
"I got not problem with that, 'cept this stupid dress. Y'know how hard it is to kick something in the head in one of these things?"
Angel chuckled. "Bet you looked good doing it."
"Yeah, right, I looked like a complete idiot. But whatever."
Still appearing completely amused, Angel teased, "Well, we knew formalwear was the key. Way to take one for the team, Faith. I'm proud of you."
The radio hissed in reply.
His manner turned serious as Angel instructed, "Let me know if you see anything," then slipped the radio into his inside pocket.
Faith's voice sounded from his coat, "Will do, Boss," as Angel held the door for another couple.
***********
Willow sat with her eyes closed, listening to the music and the people. She focused vaguely on the conversation Buffy was having with Giles.
"Yeah...I dunno, Giles. They keep telling me it'll get better, but it's just hard."
Stifling a sigh, Willow reflected, At least she's being more honest.
"You've been through quite an ordeal. Some patience is indicated, though understandably difficult. However, it's important that you not lose sight of the facts."
Willow waited for the snarky comeback and found herself almost proud of her friend when she bit her tongue.
A few moments of silence passed between them and Willow could feel Giles stiffen as he caught on to what she was doing. I wish I could reassure him, but after last night—after that stuff last year—I just can't. Giving Buffy's hand a light squeeze, she let her concentration ebb, bringing the energy transfer to a close. Looking sheepishly up at the former Watcher, she offered a sincere, "I'm sorry." Not for what I did, but for disappointing you.
Giles appeared perplexed for a moment. Recovering, he remarked, "You misunderstand. I fully support your efforts tonight, Willow. Do carry on."
Willow nodded as she read the subtext: However, I still find you scary and a bit of a freak who will no doubt come to a sticky end if she's not careful. More of the lecture...and all I wanted to do is help. Be helpful. Go figure. She glanced over to take in the baffled expression on the blonde's face and whispered reassuringly, "It's nothing, Buffy," driving back the resentment that threatened to reveal itself.
The emotion manifested in the form of a despondent sigh. Eventually Willow went back to focusing on gently leeching power. Well, that's not exactly true. Giles has lots of reason to be nervous. It's weird that I used to respect him so much. I still do, but it's different. I used to think he could do no wrong. Now I know he can, so it's just not the same.
Willow glanced over to see Buffy still giving Giles a questioning look. I could've cared less what any of them thought last night. That's really weird, but it's true. Though, the truly bizarre: Faith's alive because of Buffy. I didn't care about Angel. Nothing he said meant anything to me. That fact that I might... That I would make myself a monster that Buffy couldn't love—that's what kept Faith alive. I'd snap her neck like a twig if it wasn't for— And I want to snap her neck because of— Twisted, but it makes sense.
Giles gave his charge a reassuring smile and commented, "There's no need to bother yourself, Buffy. It was a simple misunderstanding."
The sense that she wanted to curl into a tight ball in a very dark corner grew more apparent when Willow caught sight of Anya and Xander moving their way. Great! Not like there's not enough weirdness, Xander has to be helpful and pile more on. Moron. She chuckled despite herself.
Sentimentality tinged Anya's voice as she reminisced, "There was this wealthy baroness in the late sixteenth century. Ah, good ole, Margret. Her family kept forcing her to marry. She was one of my best customers for a while. We went through five husbands together. The one I inverted—" cutting her speech short as she noticed the others. She regarded Willow and Buffy with interest, immediately asking, "So, how long have you two been lesbians?"
***********
Angel opened the trunk of his car. Moving to Joyce's Cherokee, he began to load himself down with bags. "Mrs. Summers, I know you don't like me—"
Joyce cut Angel off mid-sentence, "It's not that I don't like you, Angel. Don't misunderstand me. I don't like you with Buffy. I don't believe you two are good for each other. That's an entirely different issue."
Angel nodded and continued the thought as he moved back to his car, "That's all sort of water under the bridge. We've both made our views plain. What I was going to say is: I know how hard this is for you." He placed the bags in the trunk and started back to Joyce's car for the remainder. "It's like you said, letting go can be the most difficult thing, but it can also be the best. I just want you to know how brave I think you are."
Joyce stepped aside to give Angel room to move the largest of the bags. "I was a little surprised, after our last conversation, to learn that you were still in town. I know why you stayed, or at least I believe I do and I want you to know that I appreciate it. Trying to protect her while keeping your distance must've been very difficult for you."
Angel shuffled the cases and bags in the trunk around to make room for the last bag. "I'm just sorry I couldn't do more, Joyce. I feel like I let her down. I let you both down."
"You tried, Angel, and that's what's important."
***********
Wesley gave the brunette a side-long glance. Curious how things work out. Here we stand. The most likely pair in my world but a few short months ago, now reduced to the least likely. Though, here we stand working together for good. If I weren't such a natural skeptic it might actually give me hope. I suppose it's the scholar in me refusing to trust what I know not to be irrefutable. "So, what are your plans, Faith?" he asked conversationally.
Faith leaned casually against the wall next to the front doors of the school and replied brusquely, "I gave up planning a while back. Planning only gets ya disappointed." Making eye contact with Wesley, she took in the expectant look and asked wryly, "You wanna know if I plan to jet, don't ya?"
"The thought had occurred to me," Wesley admitted.
Faith smiled wolfishly and barked an amused laugh. Quirking an eyebrow, she glanced down at the tattered gown she wore and remarked, "Depends."
Wesley furrowed his brow and motioned for the slayer to continue.
"Depends on you, Webster. See, the way I've got it figured is I'm not exactly safe anywhere. So, it really doesn't matter if I'm in Sunnydale or the south of France. Though, that does sound nice," Faith commented, looking dreamily away for a moment, "I'm just chillin'. You give me a reason to bail and I will. No reason, no bail."
Wesley regarded the slayer carefully, trying to discern her intentions. Finally, he reflected, "That seems fair."
Faith shrugged and chuckled again. "Oh, and, Wes? Playin' Barbies with the slayer: that's a reason. Blondie might get off on this crap, but this is my last dress up date."
Wesley took in the ripped gown and couldn't help but smile. "Duly noted," he supplied dryly.
***********
Leaning against her crutches, Buffy watched the couple in front of them smile for the photographer. One last detail: the picture. Something for Will to look back on and remember. The dance and the kiss: all taken care of. Though, it was a bit mean using the kiss to cover the truth—to make her all blushy and stammery.
Buffy moved up into position and offered her crutches to the photographer who obligingly set them aside. She put her arm around her friend and smiled, leaning into the embrace. I wish we could get Xander into this, but Anya would wanna—and not slaying Anya...it's a serious struggle. She giggled as the photographer snapped the picture. At least she contributed. The smile should look less fake now.
After accepting her crutches from the photographer with a polite, "Thank you," Buffy moved along side her friend away from the booth. She listened with mixed interest as the prom king and queen were crowned. There was a time in my life when I knew that'd be me. No question. Just a fact. Now I almost don't care who got it. Taking place at the edge of the room between Giles and Willow, she watched the crowning ceremony with an air of melancholy.
Buffy leaned in to speak to the redhead on her arm, "I'm thinking: we came, we saw, we promed. Whatcha think, Will?"
Willow smiled and rubbed the blonde's back, then chided teasingly, "I think you're being a party pooper. I want another dance," putting on a pout to punctuate. Suddenly perking up, she whispered in her friend's ear, "And I don't care what they think. You're still the prettiest girl here."
A slight hint of color tinged her cheeks as Buffy smiled. That was really sweet.
"We have one more award to give out... Is Buffy Summers here tonight? Did she, uh...?" Jonathan's voice sounded out again anxiously over the P.A.
Buffy's brow furrowed when she heard her name. "Why—?" she half gasped, turning toward the stage.
Jonathan looked out into the crowd spotting the blonde before he continued, "This is actually a new category, first time ever, I guess there were a lot of write in ballots...and, uh, the prom committee has asked me to read this."
Buffy set off through the parting crowd as she listened, aware that Willow was close behind her.
Jonathan began to read from the note cards in his palm, "We're not good friends." He paused to glance up and smile nervously, taking in the crutches. When he resumed his voice cracked slightly, "Most of us never found the time to get to know you. But that doesn't mean we haven't noticed you. We don't talk about it much, but it's no secret Sunnydale High isn't really like other schools. A lot of weird stuff happens here."
The crowd filed in behind them, closing the gap as they passed through and Buffy heard different voices sound out around her.
"Zombies!"
"Hyena people!"
"Snyder!"
Buffy grinned. Wonder what happened to that little troll. Oh well, as long as he's not here, I'm good. As last requests go, seeing Snyder was way down the list—near the bottom, somewhere between bowling and a South Park marathon.
When she reached the stage, Buffy placed both crutches on her right side and leaned on them casually as she listened.
After covering his mouth politely with his fist, Jonathan cleared his throat and continued to read, "But whenever there was a problem or something creepy happened, you seemed to show up and stop it. Most of the people here have been saved by you—" glancing down to meet the blonde's gaze "—or helped by you, at one time or another."
Buffy was a bit taken aback when she noted that Jonathan's eyes were welling up too. Blinking, she felt a tear slip down her cheek and inattentively brushed it away. Umm...wow...I can't believe they noticed. Funny, it wasn't that long ago I was wondering if anyone here noticed anything else but their own little drama—their own pain. The crippling—now that's ironic. I wonder if I should tell him it's okay?
Reading the next line silently before he repeated it, Jonathan grinned sardonically and offered, "We're proud to say that the class of ninety-nine has the lowest mortality rate of any graduating class in Sunnydale history. And we know at least part of that is because of you. So the senior class offers its thanks, and...gives you, uh, this..." Holding up a gilded pink umbrella, he declared, "It's from all of us, and it's got written here, 'Buffy Summers. Class Protector'," reading the plaque attached to the handle.
Buffy accepted the award when Jonathan stooped to pass it to her, saying, "Thank you," as she struggled to stifle the overwhelming sentiment. She felt Willow's hand on her shoulder and passed the umbrella off to the redhead so she could turn. Once she was facing the crowd, she mouthed the words again and sunk into her friend's embrace to conceal the tears. We made it. Though, I never expected any thanks.
When Buffy looked up, she nearly gasped. Standing directly behind Willow was the last person she ever expected to see.
Willow smiled at the look of complete shock on her friend's face. Asking, "You got her, big guy?" as she moved aside.
Angel nodded gratefully to the witch. Immediately turning his attention to Buffy, he queried, "Would you dance with me?"
"Umm...yeah," Buffy stammered softly.
After gently taking the crutches from Buffy, Willow went back to Giles and Xander at the far edge of the room. Once she set the items aside, she took their hands and focused.
Buffy felt herself drift off the ground as Angel pulled her into an embrace. He guided her onto the dance floor and a slow, gentle ballad started. "I didn't expect to see you," she struggled to say through the tears, "I mean...umm...I thought you left."
Angel began to lead them in a leisurely waltz, "Willow asked me," answering in a hushed voice.
Her brow furrowed while Buffy questioned, "How'd she—?"
Angel simply smiled in reply as the other couples moved aside.
After glancing up to take in the smile, Buffy prompted tersely, "Angel?"
While he moved them gracefully to the music, Angel responded honestly, "I've been in contact a little. Not much. I couldn't just disappear." Peering down into her tearstained face, he offered, "I'll always be around, Buffy. I care too much to—" leaving the rest unsaid. After a short pause, he sighed and admitted, "Not seeing you doesn't mean abandoning you."
Buffy accepted the answer and laid her head against his shoulder, enjoying the dance. As they moved, she began to get extremely weary. It was like she was being lulled to sleep. When the song ended, she could barely hold her eyes open. She felt Angel sweep her up, cradling her in his arms. Struggling to speak, she slurred in a small, weak voice, "Wha—?" and drifted off into a deep slumber.
Source Material: I quote directly from the episode 'The Prom' in this chapter. A sheepish wave and wink to one of the few people on this planet that tortures Buffy more viciously than I do, the episode's author Marti Noxon.
Author's Note: Oh...and the double updatey goodness this week. Valyssia winks. Thanks to Howard for putting up with my prolific arse. The chapter sorta grew to over 14K words and was subsequently split. Howard slaved his poor little beta fingers to the bone to bring you this. Give him kudos. He's the best.