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I can't get the image out of my mind. Whenever I close my
eyes, there's the Claddagh - joined hands and hearts - burned into my skin. My
hand goes to that place, between my breasts, as if to make sure that it's not
there, that my skin is undamaged. Seeing what he did to her, or the results of
what he did to her
I can barely imagine how she suffered. When I think about
what Angelus did to me and how much he hurt me, it's impossible to imagine the
difference in scale. He killed everyone in her life, he used her body as his
plaything, he scarred her, dragged her out of heaven more than once, and yet he
didn't destroy her spirit. That's the only point of light in a sea of darkness
and pain. Despite everything, when she had her opportunity, she staked him.
I know that Spike and Dawn are hurting - that Moira's death
is causing them pain - and I know that I'll miss her too, but somehow, I can't
focus on that. My sorrow at her death will come, I'm sure of it, but it's as if
my subconscious has decided that I can't deal with it just now, and so it's
just not trying. For now, it doesn't seem to matter. Spike's here for me, and
I'm here for him and Dawn. What the next few days will bring, I don't know.
Well, at some level, I do know. It'll be similar to when Mom died, I assume,
with a funeral to be arranged and everything, but there aren't any details at
the moment.
It's light outside - the sun rose a while ago, and Spike's
snoozing beside me, his head on my shoulder. I haven't slept, what with the
visions I get every time I close my eyes, but I know Spike needed to get some
rest.
Dawn appears at the door, dressed but looking every bit as
tired as before she slept. Her eyes are still red too. She gives me a
half-smile, and mimes, asking me if I want something to eat. I nod, not because
I'm hungry, but because she needs me more than Spike does at this moment. I
slip out from under him as gently as I can and follow her into the kitchen.
I check the time, and realise that it's only half an hour
until Giles needs to go to the airport. I know Spike said he'd cover Willow,
but it's probably better if he gets some sleep.
"After we've eaten, I need to go and sit with Willow.
Want to come?"
"Why? What's happening?"
"Giles is going to meet Gwynneth at the airport. As far
as I know, there's been no change, but Willow
probably shouldn't be left alone."
"Sure. How's Spike?"
"Upset. I mean, really upset. Not that he's wallowing
in it or anything; it's just that he's not good at hiding his feelings."
"Yeah. It's just
not fair. It's all Angel's fault. If
it hadn't been for him
"
"Dawn, it doesn't help to hand out blame. I know, there
was a time when I wouldn't blame Angel for things Angelus did, and I still
think that Angel would be as horrified as we are at what we saw last night, but
it wasn't even the same Angel, just like that Buffy wasn't me. There are
differences - maybe they're inherent, maybe they're because of different
experience, but we don't know that it would have been the same here if Willow
hadn't returned Angel's soul or I hadn't sent him to Hell or
"
"I
just don't think I can even bear to look at him.
He killed Moira."
"Not directly; that Angelus probably never even heard
of Moira."
"Don't try to sound all mature about it. I saw your face
when you saw the other Buffy. You're sickened by what he did too."
"Yes, but
"
"But nothing. You deal with him if you want to, but
keep him out of my way."
We make some toast and coffee, with enough for Giles too,
and go next door. He's in the bathroom when we arrive - I can hear the sound of
running water. I leave Dawn to take the food into the kitchen, then call
through the door to let him know we're here, and walk into the bedroom to see Willow.
She's lying as she was the last time I saw her. There's no
sign of pain or fear or any other emotion on her face - it's completely passive
and at rest.
I go into the kitchen, and a moment later, Giles comes in,
dressed in trousers and shirt, and still towelling his hair.
"I don't have time to get a change of clothes before I
go to the airport, but I thought the least I could do is clean up. I'm not sure
what shampoo designed for bleached hair is going to do for me, though."
"Relax, Giles. It'll just be real gentle. Bleaching
makes hair dry and it just needs a bit of extra TLC."
"As long as I don't end up looking like Spike's father,
I'll survive."
His tone is severe, but there's a levity to his words. I
wonder at the reason, as he picks up his coffee and a slice of buttered toast.
"You ok? Not that it's not welcome, but jokes about
being Spike's dad are not what I'd expect from you."
"I
I spoke to him last night. The truth is, I've been
watching him since I got here. And no, I don't think he's good enough for you,
but then, I'm not sure who would be. I might not like the way he does things,
but I can't argue that when something needs to be done, he's there, regardless
of personal risk. He does love you. I can see that. I've tried to justify his
actions with all sorts of less edifying motives, but the only one that really
fits is love. Again, he sometimes doesn't show it in an acceptable form, but
I suppose I've been hard on him. Partly because I had these notions of him, and
one by one he's proved me wrong. He stuck around. He stayed here, working on
getting the Slayers back without knowing you would be coming here. He
impressed Moira, and I can think of few people who succeeded in that - goodness
knows I've often been found wanting in that respect. And
last night, when
he'd done it, he was the bloody hero of the hour, and he apologised to me for
going ahead when Moira wasn't up to it. As if
"
"He apologised? He's feeling guilty?"
"Yes. I told him he had no need. Pointed out that Moira
knew what she was doing. That the risk was hers to take, and for someone else
to take the blame was to somehow steal her glory. He
seemed to
understand."
"Oh."
"And
what he said was exactly what I was thinking. I
was feeling the same, guilt that I hadn't stopped her, but when he said that, I
realised the truth. There should have been no guilt about you jumping into the
vortex to save Dawn, or Spike burning up while closing the Hellmouth. You both
knew exactly what you were doing, and you did it for the good of others. What
Moira did was the same."
I munch a bit of toast while I think about that.
"Any word from Angel or Gus?"
"Not yet. I expect Gus will be at Fiona's as early as
he can, but I don't know about Angel."
"Did you move the body?"
"No, it was collected a couple of hours ago. When I get
back from the airport, I need to get on with arranging her funeral. I think Glasgow
would be as good as anywhere - it's not like it's her world anyway, and her
home
Sunnydale
is at the bottom of a crater."
"Maybe that's what we should do."
"What?"
"Well, if she's cremated, then we could take her ashes
and sprinkle them into the crater. At least then she'd be close to our Mom.
What do you think, Dawn?"
"Yeah. That feels
right. I think maybe she'd like
that."
"It certainly minimises the potential questions as
regards her appearance. I'll look into it."
"What about Moira?"
"As I said last night, I can contact her solicitor - he
used to deal with aspects of our lease on the office upstairs. If she has a
will, or instructions on what to do in the event of her death, I suspect he'd
know about it."
"Any family?"
"Not that she ever mentioned."
Giles glances at his watch, and quickly drains his coffee.
"Time I wasn't here. Dawn, do you feel like coming with
me? Just for a change of scenery."
Dawn looks surprised, then nods.
"Yeah, I'll come along." She waits until Giles
moves away before adding quietly in my ear, "Less chance of seeing
Angel."
Once theyve gone, I go in and sit beside Willow.
I don't wait long before Spike appears, looking as if he's just wakened.
"Did Rupert waken you?" he asks. "I said I'd
cover him while he went to the airport."
"No. I was awake and you weren't, so I came over."
"Bit still asleep?"
"No. She went with Giles. She really doesn't want to
run into Angel any time soon."
"No, well, seeing what I've seen lately, doesn't do
anything to improve my opinion of the bloke either."
He says it quietly, as if he's expecting an argument, but I
can't find words to disagree.
"I know. I can't get
that thing
the Claddagh, out
of my mind. Every time I close my eyes, just the fact that he would use that
to hurt her
"
He crosses the distance to me quickly, and takes me in his
arms. He just holds me for a moment, but it's obvious that he's wondering
whether or not to say something.
"What?"
"Been thinking about that - the Claddagh. She said
shed been with him five years."
I nod, not sure where he's taking this.
"And Buffy'd been dead already. Now, even with some
souped-up shaman to do the mojo, he couldn't be sure she'd come back, could
he?"
"Probably not," I agree, still struggling with my
sleep-deprived brain to see where this is going.
"See, once he'd thought of it, Angelus has patience.
He'd wait until the perfect moment to use that on her. But there's no way he'd
risk missing his chance."
"So, what're you suggesting?"
"That you
or one of us
were meant to see that. We
were meant to know what
might have happened if the Senior Partners had
managed to keep you, and if the other Angelus had managed to get his mitts on
you."
"But how would they know we'd go after the other
Slayers that way?"
"Maybe they didn't, but maybe, once we'd rescued the
first few, they arranged something special for Fiona. I don't think she'd been
with Angelus very long, although I don't know where she was before. It seems
like kind of a coincidence that the one Slayer who was known by one of us, just
happened to be the last. What if they hid her somehow? When I went there the
first time, Angelus was interrupted by an 'emissary of the three'. The way
Angelus left off what he was doing, he had a lot of respect for that. We
already know the Angelus who came here was in cahoots with the Senior Partners,
and we know that they tried again and again to turn our Angel bad again and
bring him on board. What if
?"
"I don't know. You think it was a
warning?"
"Truth to tell, I don't know, Love. It just
seems a
little too neat. Maybe it's nothing. Maybe
"
It's a chilling thought. So far, we've got three Angels -
there's ours, there's the one Dru took off with her, and the one the other
Buffy dusted. I can't help but wonder how many others in an infinite universe
of worlds are still soul-less, and in league with the Senior Partners. As far
as I'm concerned, one is one too many.
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