Title: The Cycle of Shanshu
Author: Illusion
Posted: 5-19-2002
Email: alliekat17@hotmail.com
Rating: PG 15 for angst
Category:
Content:
Summary: Wesley translated Angel’s prophecy to mean that he was going to become human once he’d fulfilled his destiny, right? Well, he only came to that conclusion when he realized that the Proto-Bantu regarded ‘Shanshu’, or life and death, as the same thing. It’s all one big never ending cycle. So who says that Angel’s reward ends at becoming human again? Why was he such a scoundrel when he was first human? And exactly what drew Darla to him?
Spoilers: End of Season Two ‘ANGEL’, and Season Five ‘BtVS’
Disclaimer: The characters in the Angelverse were created by Joss Whedon & David Greenwalt. No infringement is intended, no profit is made.
Distribution:
Notes: This has been buzzing around in my head for a little while, and I had to get it out. It’s my first story without a ‘happily ever after’ kind of ending, so hopefully it turns out alright. And let’s just pretend that Darla *was* risen from the dead, but Angel staked her before she arose from the undead. So that means he didn’t fire the gang, and didn’t kill all the lawyers. After that, all the major things happen, but no trip to Pylea, and thus, no Fred. Sorry Fred, but I live in Australia, and I haven’t seen any of Season 3 yet. I don’t know enough about you to write you into this story. In the Buffy-verse, I’m just going to pretend that they managed to stop Glory before the portal opened, and Buffy never died, because I don’t yet know how she was brought back exactly, only that she was in heaven. And I really don’t know much about any kind of heart conditions, so just go with it, and I hope I don’t offend anyone out there. Just remember, this is only a story, and I’m sorry if this offends anyone, but if so it’s done entirely unintentionally.
Feedback: I’d love to know what you think of this one, so feel free to send whatever feedback - good *and* bad. This is my first story posted, so I’d like to know if it’s worth finishing the other stuff I’m working on and posting it. I’m thinking of doing a sequel to this story, so let me know if it’s worth it, and if anyone out there has any ideas I might use for it, or if this would be better to remain a stand-alone.
Thanks/Dedication:Part 4
Several weeks had passed since Angel and Cordelia had found out how much time Angel had left. Several weeks since they had become lovers, and their friends were still oblivious to it all. They had no clue about Angel’s condition, and no reason to suspect that he and Cordelia were together. They both knew it was for the better that the others didn’t find out about their relationship because they’d just ask too many questions. Like; ‘Why now?’.
And inevitably, they’d ask why Cordelia never spoke those three little words to Angel. Cordelia would never break her promise to Angel, no matter how desperately she wanted to tell him, and could only settle for asking him if he knew. Deep down, she knew he was right in asking her to make the promise never to say the words, and after he was… gone, she knew she wouldn’t regret having never said them to him, despite that promise. Maybe she was being selfish, letting him love her completely for what little time he had left, but keeping her promise to him and reserving her words in the chance that someday she would meet and love someone she could have a future with, but to Angel, it didn’t matter. It was what he wanted, for himself as much as for her, and Cordelia couldn’t deny him what he wanted. It was for the best, and Angel assured her, time and time again, that he knew. He didn’t need to hear the words to know.
It was just a final way to keep a little distance from her. They would make the most of the time they *did* have together, being a true couple in every way other than those words from Cordelia, but Angel would always be too noble for his own good. He wouldn’t let Cordelia devote herself to their relationship when it had so little a future. After their time together, he wanted her to be able to be happy. To move on, and give herself to someone who could love her for the rest of her life, and grow old with her, and hear her say those words knowing that he wasn’t just ‘second best’ to those words. He wanted her to be able to say those words without reservation to someone else that could make her happy in the future, not hold them back because she had already given them to Angel.
They both agreed it was better that no-one know about them, just like no-one knew about Angel’s heart condition. Cordelia had extended her promise to not even saying the words about him to their friends. She couldn’t even profess her love for Angel to anyone else even when he couldn’t hear them. She didn’t want to hurt him by saying the words to everyone but him, when they should have been meant for him alone. And if the others knew about them, they’d come to all the wrong conclusions when she couldn’t say that Angel’s obvious love for her, which he *could* profess, was completely and utterly requited. She couldn’t let them think that she was using Angel just for sex or companionship when the unanswerable truth was so much deeper, and if the others knew, everything would change, and Angel’s last few months wouldn’t be how he wanted them - normal, so he could remember his friends without any memory of pain or awkwardness right up until… the end.
It was easier to pretend that there was nothing deeper between her and Angel than Cordelia had thought. Every slip, like the brushing of hands, or the kiss on the cheek just a little to close to the lips for comfort, neither Gunn nor Wesley noticed, or interpreted as anything more than good friends. That at least, was true. No matter what, Angel and Cordelia would always be the truest friends either had had. Even before their relationship had developed to a deeper level, they’d always been immensely close. Wesley and Gunn didn’t suspect that they were anything more than what they had been before to each other, and always would be, no matter what.
They were all in Angel’s car at the moment, driving home from the docks, and Cordelia kept glancing over at Angel who was driving, making sure he was alright. Even after Angel had regained his humanity in reward for fulfilling his destiny, there was still evil to be fought. Cordelia was still a seer, and her visions were still for Angel, almost as if The Powers That Be completely ignored the fact that too much exertion could kill Angel, and so each vision could be leading him to his death. *Her* visions could lead to *his* death. She hated The Powers more and more with every vision they sent, because there was no way that they didn’t know they were sending their Warrior to his potential death, now more than ever, each time. He may be human again, with only human strength and reflexes, but so were she, Wesley and Gunn, and even everyone but Buffy, and possibly Willow and Tara, in Sunnydale, and yet they all still fought the darkness, and won. He was still just another tool to The PTB, and Cordelia knew they’d take advantage of that tool until he was no good to them anymore.
In a motion imperceptible to Wes and Gunn in the back seat, both still crowing over their defeat of the seven slime demons at the docks, Angel reached over and took Cordelia’s hand tightly in his own, interlacing their fingers and giving her hand a reassuring squeeze, having noticed her frequent furtive looks. Cordelia’s tense body relaxed slightly, feeling more assured that her lover was okay. She wouldn’t be completely relaxed for hours, knowing Angel was still weary, still at risk for the moment, but his reassurance helped. She forced herself to remember that they *both* carried some of his medication at all times, just in case, but somehow, that thought didn’t help as much as Angel’s reassuring touch.
Eventually, Angel pulled up in front of the Hyperion hotel and they all clambered out, tired from the fight, but in better shape than they’d been from a lot of other situations Cordelia’s visions had led them into. It was late at night, almost morning, and she, Wesley and Gunn had returned to the Hyperion to get their bags, before going to their separate homes to clean themselves up and get some rest.
While Cordelia still had her apartment with Dennis, she had been able to find a few excuses to spend the night with Angel at the hotel on occasion. Hesitantly, they had let Dennis in on everything, and thankfully the ghost had promised not to ‘tell’ the others through any means, since he couldn’t actually tell them directly. He approved of their relationship, despite the unfortunate circumstances, and gladly gave them their privacy when Angel secretly spent the night at her apartment, even though most of the time, they simply talked, or watched videos, or spent the time together in comfortable silence, and the same at his place. They were both well aware that they had to be careful, and only made love when Angel was sure he was feeling good. Neither would ever take any risk with his life.
Angel let them in and Wesley and Gunn immediately went over to the weapons cabinet, putting away the items they had used tonight. “I don’t think we’re going to be rid of this smell for weeks,” Wesley griped, referring to the awful smell of the demon slime that permeated their clothes and clung to the weapons.
“At least we’re rid of them demons,” Gunn said, ever cheerful. “Plus we got a good workout. Haven’t had a fight like that for a couple of weeks,” he commented, stretching his muscles as if that had just been the warm up round and he was expecting more action any second.
“It’s better when it’s quiet,” Cordelia said longingly. She wanted nothing more than for the visions to go away forever and at least let Angel have some peace for his last few months. Unfortunately, she knew that for as long as she got the visions, Angel would do everything in his power to help the people she saw in them. That’s just the type of selfless person he was. If he could help these people, he would. That’s why he continued risking his health, and his life, by pursuing the visions. “We get to spend more time together, just hanging out,” she continued with a genuine smile.
Gunn’s brow furrowed in thought. “Yeah. What’s up with that, anyway?” he asked.
Cordelia bit her lip, her gaze quickly going to Angel, neither knowing what to say. They thought they’d been careful, not over eager to all get together for a night and go clubbing, or do dinner, or have a trip to the beach during the day, or whatever. Just casual simple things, nothing that should have aroused either Wesley’s or Gunn’s suspicion…
Cordelia was about to speak when Gunn continued. “I didn’t think them PTB would lay off and give us the time to kick back like this,” he said with a grin. “But I guess I sure as Hell ain’t complainin’, even if it’s not like ‘em to give us quiet time.”
Both Angel and Cordelia let out imperceptible sighs of relief, and Cordelia smiled only a little nervously. Gunn had only been talking about what was up with The Powers That Be for seemingly letting them have a little time off. True, it had been a couple of weeks since their last major fight, but there’d been many small ones in between, so they didn’t really see it as time off. But that was better than Gunn suspecting any alternative meaning behind the time both Cordelia and Angel had been making for them all to get together. They’d even invited the Sunnydale gang to LA to spend some time together under the pretense of a party to celebrate Angel’s Shanshu a week or so after they’d found out about Angel’s returned condition, saying now they’d all had time to recover from the apocalypse they’d fought together and could truly celebrate properly, as well as spend a couple more days in LA as a mini-holiday.
“Yeah,” Angel said with a shrug. “I guess we should take advantage of it while The Powers seem to have forgotten us for a while,” he quipped casually, getting smiles of agreement from both Wesley and Gunn.
“I think for now we should all just go home and get some rest,” Cordelia said tightly, trying to sound just as casual as Angel, even as she watched him lean back against the counter a little too heavily to be relaxed. One hand was gripping the edge of the countertop for slight support, and his knuckles were white from the pressure.
Thankfully, neither of the other two men seemed to notice, both nodding at Cordelia’s suggestion. “Good idea, Cordelia,” Wesley said as he scooped up his bag to go home for the night, handing Gunn his.
“You need a ride home, girl?” Gunn asked her.
Cordelia forced a fake smile, shaking her head. “Thanks, but I’m gonna clean up here. Angel will drop me off at my place afterwards,” she assured her friend. They wouldn’t think anything of that, since she’d done it many times in the past few years, even before she and Angel had gotten together. She kept several spare sets of clothes there because her outfits were constantly getting ruined with all the jobs they went out on, and she’d been sick of having to get a ride home just to get changed and come straight back. It was alright for Wes and Gunn, since they had their own wheels, but Angel was having to drive her home at least a couple of times a week for a change of clothes because the ones she was wearing had gotten demon blood all over them, or her own, or vampire dust, or slime, or some other icky thing that she usually didn’t really want to think about.
“Sure thing,” Gunn said, as she had guessed not even giving it a second thought. “See yas tomorrow!” he called, Wesley echoing the words as they both headed out the front door to their separate vehicles, then home.
As soon as they were gone, Cordelia rushed over to Angel, grabbing the bottle of pills from her bag on the sofa on her way. Angel eased himself heavily to the ground as she reached him, gratefully accepting the two small white ‘anti-adrenalin’ pills she handed him, swallowing them dry, then leaning his head back against the side of the counter, waiting for the medication to work.
It took several moments for them to kick in, lowering his accelerated heartbeat, and gradually the pain began to recede. Cordelia was kneeling beside him, her scared and worried gaze watching him, waiting for the drugs to work and for him to be better. She cried out softly in relief when he opened his eyes again and groaned, reaching out and drawing her to him so that she was straddling his lap, her arms wrapped around his waist and her head tucked under his chin.
After several more moments, in which they just held each other, Cordelia finally pulled away from him, remaining in her position on his lap. “You okay?” she whispered softly.
Angel nodded, leaning forward and brushing his lips over hers reassuringly. “Yeah, I’ll be fine in a minute or so,” he assured her honestly.
Cordelia nodded in return. “Are you sure we don’t need to go to the hospital? Make sure everything’s okay?” she asked softly, her hand coming up to rest lightly on his chest over where his heart was. The gentle beating felt completely normal, and if she hadn’t known about his condition, she would never have guessed that it was too weak to keep him alive for long.
“I just need some rest. I’ll be alright,” he told her, trying once more to reassure her.
Finally, she just nodded silently, leaning down and kissing him lightly again, unable to stop herself from showing her love - since she couldn’t say it - and relief, but unwilling to obstruct his breathing and risk him almost having another attack. Or worse, actually having an attack. Angel just held her close, responding eagerly to her light loving kisses.
Neither noticed the dark-haired figure crouched outside in the bushes under the window to their side, raising his camera again.
Part 5
Lilah paced her office in the tall Wolfram and Hart building, waiting for her colleague to get there and tell her whatever important information he thought he had. Who did he think he was anyway, asking her to stay back after work so late just to talk to him, and not even showing up? She’d give him ten more minutes to get there, or she was leaving.
She slumped down behind her desk, scowling at the thick folder on her desk marked with a single word - ‘Angel’. After all these years, she still hadn’t been able to take care of that small problem. Small? He was a humungous problem for Wolfram and Hart and all their plans! Somehow, he’d managed to screw up every apocalypse! Every evil deed! And the patience of the senior partners was beginning to wear thin with her and all her failures.
She looked back up at the clock, seeing that eleven minutes had passed since she had last looked at it, and stood to leave. Just as her hand reached for the door handle, the door swung open and almost hit her in the face. It would have, had she not jumped back quickly enough.
Dean Kennedy, her new partner and Lindsey’s sixth and latest replacement, offered her only a smug smirk at her angry, stunned features, but no apology. Neither did he apologize for the wait. “I’ve got some information I think will amuse you,” he informed her outright, holding a thick manila folder bulging with papers in front of her face, which just moments before he had almost flattened with the door. “Something that might help us take care of that problem you’ve been working on unsuccessfully for eight years to fix,” he continued, his smirk widening.
Lilah glared at him icy, then tried to snatch the folder from his smug little grasp.
“Uh, uh, uh,” Dean taunted, drawing the folder back out of her reach before she could get her hands on it. “This is *my* project that I’ve been working on for five months already. You think I’m going to give you the chance to take all the credit?”
Lilah fought to come up with a biting retort, but her mind was lost on ‘five months’. How could Dean have possible hidden a project from her for five months? All of the other partners she’d worked with had already failed the senior partners with their hair-brained schemes, but somehow, she knew Dean might succeed where others had failed. Still, she would never admit that to him. She quickly recovered her composure, folding her arms over her chest, trying to make him uneasy in his self-confidence by fixing him with her own smug stare. “A lot of others have tried to fix that same problem. All of them are dead now. What makes you think you’ve got any more of a chance that they did?”
Dean shrugged, almost uncertainly. “I dunno,” he lied convincingly, playing it up. He wanted to shock and impress her, and make her realize just how much she’d underestimated him. The stupid woman really needed to be put in her place. “Maybe because I’ve found out that Angel is *human*, and has been for *five months*. I’ve also got some interesting medical records on him for that time, and I’ve got quite a few saucy pictures of him with his secret lover,” he said mock casually, unable to stop the reappearance of his self-satisfied grin.
Just as he had predicted, Lilah was speechless, her gaze falling to the folder of documents he claimed would help them bring down Angel once and for all. How could Angel have become human again without her knowing? How was she going to explain a blunder like that to the senior partners of the firm?
“Now Lilah,” Dean continued smoothly, seeing her stricken face. “Do you really think I’d leave you to fend for yourself before the partners? Especially when I have such a brilliant plan which I need your… expert and reliable recommendation on?” he said deviously.
She knew there was a catch to him helping her out of this jam, but she couldn’t see any alternative. “What’s the plan?” she asked simply, abandoning any thought of playing it cool and not letting him win.
Dean smiled winningly, and told her his plan.
An hour later, Lilah sat behind her desk with Dean seated opposite, the manila folder open between them. There were hundreds of photographs of the vampire… *ex*-vampire, Lilah corrected herself, in various compromising situations with his lover, leaving no doubt that they were sleeping together. She hid a hint of amusement though that the photographs were almost tastefully and professionally taken, clear enough to show the… ‘activity’ the couple were engaged in, yet discreet enough to offer them a little dignity, even privacy. Clearly Dean himself, who she knew had excelled in photography as well as law in college, had taken the pictures. Many of the other photos were less intrusive, but no less incriminating - heavy make-outs, simple kissing, holding hands, holding each other in loving embraces…
She scolded herself for not realizing sooner that Angel was secretly screwing that little seer of his.
Along with the photos, the folder contained countless medical files, detailing explicitly Angel’s current state of health, even including a hospital visit from just yesterday, and transcripts of selected private conversations between Angel and his seer - Lilah really needed to learn her name, if it was going to look like she was doing her job to know everything about Angel - which indicated that the Hyperion hotel had been bugged for a short time after the initial visits to the hospital had begun.
Enough personal information for them to work with, and if Dean’s plan worked, this would make up for all the trouble Angel had caused not only Lilah, but all of Wolfram and Hart and its numerous malevolent activities and clients.
“So let me get this straight,” Lilah said finally, leaning back in her chair and trying to retain control of the whole situation. “You’re going to let me tell the senior partners about all of this, and inform them that you’ve been working on this under *my* orders secretly for months, so as not to let Angel know we were onto him. All I have to do is use my position and reputation in this firm to get the go ahead for your plan, which is way beyond risky, and I don’t see why we don’t just wait, and I’ve got to--”
“Let me have the seer. Once the plan is carried out, Angel will be out of the picture for good. But I have a little unfinished business with Cordelia,” he said coldly, unconsciously rubbing his distinguished nose, that was slightly bent, where it had obviously been broken once before.
Lilah briefly wondered what kind of personal vendetta Dean had against the young woman, and whether or not it was wise to get caught up in it, but she quickly pushed away those thoughts. Dean’s plan was extremely risky, and extremely ambitious. Maybe too ambitious. Maybe he was trying for something that was way out of his reach, and only with a lot of luck would he pull this one off. And he wanted her not only to take the project to the senior partners, but deliberately let a significant part of the plan slip past her so that he could get even. Cordelia was by no means innocent in the eyes of Wolfram and Hart. She was the reason Angel had foiled their plans so many times before, and she was Angel’s contact to The Powers That Be. If Dean’s personal grudge against Cordelia failed and she escaped him altogether, Lilah would lose her job, no, her *life*, for that mistake. There’d be no weaseling out of this one if it all fell to pieces. The partners would have both their heads. Literally! But the chance to pay Angel back for all the trouble he had given her in the past was definitely worth all the risk and extra effort…
“Nothing’s going to go wrong,” Dean said smoothly, seeing the apprehension clearly written in her features. “Trust me.”
“Okay. Let’s do it,” Lilah said, her smug smirk returning finally. Finally, she was going to take care of Angel once and for all. “Once we get the go ahead, we can have everything set up within a week--”
Dean shook his head, a haughty smile gracing his face once more at Lilah’s inability to wait patiently. “Not yet, my dear Lilah,” he taunted mock sweetly, getting another icy glare from her. “For the plan to work properly, we can’t leave them any time. We wait,” he said simply and firmly, leaving no room for argument.
Part 6
“Minus two months and counting,” Cordelia murmured under her breath, sitting in the waiting room of St. Matthews Hospital. Ten months. It had been ten months since they’d found out that Angel’s condition had indeed returned when his humanity had. Ten months, since Julia had given them a maximum *eight month* prognosis. Cordelia should have known Angel would be too stubborn to abide by that, and she couldn’t help but smile slightly at that thought.
“Hey Cordelia,” Julia said gently as she entered the waiting room, walking directly over to her.
Cordelia’s smile took on a slightly bitter look as she stood to meet Angel’s doctor. They had been coming to see her for the past ten months, at least once or twice a week, and they’d long since dropped titles, Angel and Cordelia calling her by her first name now. “How is he?” Cordelia asked immediately.
“Not too bad this time, but he can’t handle much more of this,” Julia told her honestly, knowing neither Angel nor Cordelia appreciated having things ‘broken to them easy’. They wanted everything straight out. And by now, Julia knew each was as stubborn as the other. “He might be able to handle a mild attack. If he’s lucky, two. But if it’s severe… His heart is too weak to handle a severe attack, Cordy.”
Cordelia nodded, having expected that news a few weeks before now. Angel was already pushing his time. And his luck. The attack he had had this morning had been mild, but unprovoked. “Can I go in and see him now?” Cordelia asked the woman. “You know he hates this.”
Julia smiled slightly. “Tell me about it. He hasn’t stopped complaining since he got in. Anyway, we’ve run all the tests we can to check up on his heart. I just want to do a quick follow-up check, try to convince him to let me keep him here over night, which I’m not holding my breath over, then he’s all yours,” Julia assured her, even as she led Cordelia down the hall to Angel’s room, knowing full well Cordelia knew this part of the hospital off by heart by now, having been there so often.
As soon as she walked into the room Angel was being held in, Cordelia immediately rushed to his bed where he sat cross-legged and shirtless, his elbows resting on his knees and his hands clasped lightly in front of him, waiting for her and Julia. “Hey,” he said, unable to keep a smile from his face at seeing his lover.
Cordelia kissed him gently in relief, looking him over, though outwardly, there were no visible signs of how sick he truly was. His eyes were a little duller, world-weary, but other than that, nothing. She almost couldn’t believe that he was supposed to have been dead two months ago.
Almost.
“Are you okay?” she asked him quietly, ignoring what Julia had already told her.
“I’ve been better, but I’m alright, all things considering,” he assured her, kissing her lightly and reassuringly again.
Julia shook her head at the two, specifically Angel. “How many times do I have to tell you to take it easy, Angel? Are you *trying* to kill yourself?” she asked, already checking his vitals and getting out her stethoscope to personally check Angel’s heartbeat.
“Well, if I have been, rest assured I haven’t had any luck so far,” Angel quipped lightly, actually getting a smile from Cordelia. They had already accepted that Angel didn’t have long, and that he wanted his death for the peace it would bring. He didn’t want it enough to hasten it along, and if he had the choice, he certainly wouldn’t have chosen this, but the circumstances were what they were, and he had no choice in the matter. So in a way, considering the circumstances, this was what he wanted. Which allowed him and Cordelia to be able to joke about it, if only a little to keep their minds from taking it seriously, and stop them from both breaking down. Again.
Julia scowled at him, not breathing onto her stethoscope to warm it up, giving him a satisfied smirk as she placed the freezing cold metal hard against his bare chest and making him jump slightly. Sometimes, Angel could frustrate and shock the hell out of her, with his almost carefree attitude of acceptance. Sometimes, she wondered about his sanity, but she couldn’t lie to herself. She knew he was perfectly sane, and for some reason unknown to her, he didn’t have any fears about dying. It was almost as if he was content with the short time he had spent on earth - which according to his files, which were somewhat sketchy and unreliable at best, was only twenty-seven years now. “That’s not funny, Angel. You’ve had more luck at it than you think. One severe heart attack, and it’s over. I guarantee it,” she warned as she checked his heartbeat, finding it satisfactory.
Angel couldn’t help but grin at her. “That’s what you said last time,” he reminded her playfully, chuckling as she jerked the earpieces of her stethoscope almost violently away in frustration, the instrument falling to the floor with a soft clatter at her abrupt motion.
“Your attack this morning was only mild, and you know it. *Had* it been more severe, then we wouldn’t even be talking right now! For once, could you take this seriously! Please!” Julia protested, angrily scooping up her stethoscope and fumbling in her aggravation to replace it around her neck, finally getting it.
“Julia, it’s okay,” Angel tried to reassure her. “Believe me, I know how serious this is. I know that I really don’t have much time left. And I’m beyond grateful for everything you’ve done for me. I was lucky to have the two months beyond your prognosis--”
“More like you were too stubborn to die,” Cordelia teased him, though there was no longer any humor in her voice, only sadness.
Angel just gave her a quick smile before he continued. “You may not believe it, but I’ve lived my life, Julia. You don’t have to understand, but just trust me that I’m happy, and that this,” he said, gesturing around the room to the machines and various other medical equipment as if they represented his condition, “this is a release for me. This is what I want, Julia,” he told her truthfully, his smile now gone so that she realized just how serious he was about what he was saying.
“No-one deserves to die at twenty-seven,” Julia said stubbornly, almost blaming herself that she couldn’t give him any more time.
“Hey, you didn’t lose, okay? Remember that, and remember that I’m happy with how things turned out. Trust me when I say I know I’m going to die, and I accept that. In a way, I guess you could say I *want* it, after everything,” Angel admitted, relieved when she nodded resolutely. “Next time I’m in here, I’ll probably be asking you to let me go home. Think that’ll be okay?” he asked, a gentle smile reappearing on his face.
Julia smiled, holding back her tears. She knew she wasn’t supposed to get this attached to her patients, but Angel hardly qualified as a patient anymore. He and Cordelia had become good friends to her since they’d met, and Cordelia had assured her they’d stay in touch even after… even after she no longer had a reason to come here. Somehow, she understood that what Angel was saying was true. She knew he’d lived his life, and that he was content. He’d proven time and time again that he was more mature than he sometimes made out to be, and that he was somehow wise and experienced beyond his years. He had the kind of attitude she’d seen and admired in her older patients, people who could actually claim they’d lived a long and fulfilling life, and were prepared to pass on peacefully. While Angel’s life hadn’t been as long, it had clearly been fulfilling and selfless. He’d had dear friends, people he considered family, and Cordelia had stood by him to the end.
Yeah. He was happy. “I think I can manage that,” Julia finally said, returning his smile.
He deserved to be able to go on his own terms. At home, among family, and at peace.
“There’s no point in me asking you to stay overnight for observation, is there?” Julia asked him with an annoyed smile.
“No,” Angel answered her simply. “I don’t want to spend any more time in here than I have to.”
Julia could only nod.
Soon after, Angel had been discharged and Cordelia had driven him home, both unaware of Dean Kennedy watching their every move, disguised as a cleaner. Casually, he pushed his bucket down the hallway, finally reaching the janitorial closet, and he slipped inside unnoticed, quickly stripping off the janitor’s uniform, underneath which was his crisp clean suit that he had worn to work that morning.
Lilah had been waiting, for what passed as patiently for her, and now he had the answer she wanted. He quickly dialed her cell phone, waiting until she answered, and only spoke three words.
“Get it ready.”
Part 7
Buffy sat agitatedly in a seat at the circular table on the lower floor of the Magic Box, while her Watcher stood opposite her on the steps leading down to the area. All around the table sat her friends - Willow, Tara, Xander, Anya, even Spike - and her sister Dawn sat beside her too. They were all there, but Giles had yet to explain why.
The Slayer decided to cut right to the chase. “So Giles, why’d you call us all here? What’s wrong?”
In the past seven years, somehow they’d all managed to stay in Sunnydale. Buffy had returned to college, but in the end had decided to stick to what she was good at, and what she enjoyed. She now ran very popular self-defense and martial arts classes, after Giles had spent some time actually telling her the correct names of all the maneuvers. Dawn had graduated from high school, and now assisted Buffy at her classes, handling the business side of things, while the other half of the sister act did the actual teaching.
Xander and Anya had married, and Xander now had his own carpentry business, while Anya owned and ran the Magic Box herself, since Giles had been reinstated as a Watcher before the whole Glory thing had gone down.
Willow had become a great doctor, while Tara was a nurse, both working in Sunnydale General, and both keeping up with their magic studies, now also great witches. Each had found they had a natural affinity as healers, which had led to them both entering the medical field. Tara didn’t have the grades to become a doctor, and didn’t really want to, but loved her job as a nurse.
“Actually, it was Spike who asked for this meeting,” Giles informed them all, surprising them only slightly.
Spike had become… well, a friend over the years, and had taken to being their underground source, digging up any information he could about anything in Sunnydale, and keeping an ear on LA too, to make sure their friends there were alright. So really, it wasn’t much of a surprise that Spike would have something he wanted to talk about with them all, just that it wasn’t often when he felt it was serious enough to call an immediate meeting about.
“Seems something big is going down in good ole LA,” he told them, taking a final drag of his cigarette before stubbing it on the tabletop, much to Anya’s chagrin, though somehow she refrained from speaking. “From what I hear, some young new twerp that no-one’s heard of before is running the show, and he’s got plans too big for his breeches for our buddies there.”
“For you as well,” said a new voice from up in the shadows of the upper level. Buffy and Spike leapt to their feet, instantly taking in only the one target - a dark-haired man with a slightly askew nose, just inside the door to the shop.
Before they could move, the windows shattered as small projectiles flew through, five in total, landing near the table at which the Scooby Gang sat. Too late, they realized the canisters were sleeping gas, and one by one, no matter how hard they fought it, they all succumbed to its affects.
Spike smiled smugly, his game face slipping onto his features. At least the rumors about how thick this kid was were true. Didn’t he realize that vampires didn’t *breathe*?
And that was his last thought, as someone struck him with a baseball bat up the back of his head, knocking him out cold.
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