ONE NORMAL LIFE / TWO EXTRAORDINARY LIVES
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BtVS AU/AR › Het - Male/Female › Buffy/Spike(William)
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
210
Views:
11,870
Reviews:
182
Recommended:
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Category:
BtVS AU/AR › Het - Male/Female › Buffy/Spike(William)
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
210
Views:
11,870
Reviews:
182
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer (BtVS), nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
POUND OF FLESH
CHAPTER 152 - POUND OF FLESH
JULIAN
AUGUST 15, 2009
FRIDAY
3:00pm
William wandered aimlessly around the house. He fohis his phone under some paper on the counter, and tried to turn it on, but it wasn’t charged. He spent another 10 minutes locating the charger, which he finally recalled, had been packed for their trip to Michigan. He plugged it in, and put the phone in, remembering to turn it on as it charged, in case she called.
He wandered off to the living room, turned on the television, surfed through the channels for about a minute, before turning it off. Just as he did, he heard the phone ringing, and hurried to get it. He managed to hold his wrist against cha charger, in order to lift the phone out of it.
“Hello?”
“Hello, this is a courtesy call from Verizon. Are you getting the best rates you can? If not, consider changing your phone service. Not only does Verizon have the best rates for local and long distance...”
“Shit!” William said, managing to slam the phone off. He opened it again, and managed to get it back into the cradle.
He’d banged his hand in the process, and now it throbbed again. He was about to get some Ibuprofen, when he remembered the anti-inflammatory that John had left. He found the bottle in the bedroom, and tried to open it. Five minutes later, he gave up, and went back to his original choice, only that bottle seemed not to want to open either.
Finally, he found a hammer in the bottom drawer, and broke the original bottle. Not satisfied, he struck the second bottle as well. He picked through the broken plastic and broken pills to find a good one, which he swallowed. Then, took one more for good measure.
He cleaned up as best he could, then went back to the bedroom, taking the phone and charger with him, and plugging it in next to the bed. He lay back down, feeling alone and defeated by everything.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Buffy stopped at a gas station outside of Los Angeles to pick up a map and look in the telephone book.
Forty minutes later, she turned west on Alameda Avenue, driving down the street slowly, until she came to 1900 block. Of course, she only had to see the huge stone sign in front of the building, vainly displaying for all the world to see the name of Evil, Inc. Incarnate; Wolfram & Hart.
Buffy drove around until she found a parking lot on the next block. She put on a jacket she had in the backseat, and put Mr. Pointy 2.0 in the back of her waistband, before walking the two blocks to the rear of the building.
To the left of the center door was a downward sloping driveway, leading to a loading dock. She walked up the half dozen steps to the entryway, and tried the handle of the door. It was locked naturally.
“Who is it?” asked a voice.
“Delivery,” she answered.
Suddenly a vampire, a mere fledgling, sporting a security badge flung open the door.
“Hey, you’re not...” he began, looking at her empty hands, and lack of delivery attire.
Without thinking, she grabbed the vampire, and pulled him out onto the landing. With one hand, she grabbed her stake, holding it up against his back, with the other; she pushed him over towards the edge, towards the sun.
“Jesus lady! What the hell are you? What do you want?” he asked, terrified; as the front of his pants were already beginning to smolder.
“I’m the freakin’ Slayer, you idiot! Ever hear of me?”
“I heard of slayers...”
“Well, I was The Slayer, before the others, and if you don’t want to be a big ‘ole pile o’ dust, you’ll do exactly what tell you to.”
“Okay, okay,” said the vamp hurriedly. He had just begun to work there last week, and wasn’t at all willing to die in the line of duty.
She yanked him around, until he faced her.
“I want you to get me in to see Angel.”
The vampire looked at her blankly. “Who?”
“The C.E.O. of the company, you nit!”
“Oh, him; Mr. Angel? I don’t think I can...”
Buffy yanked him again, so that now half of his body was hanging precariously off the landing.
“Okay, okay,” he screamed, “just pull me back!”
“That’s better,” she said, slamming him against the wall.
“Now,” Buffy began, “I want you to think very carefully abhow how you’re going to answer this. How can you get me up to Angel’s office?”
The vampire thought about it for a minute, before remembering the elevator in the garage, which went up to the penthouse suite and office. He motioned for Buffy to follow him. He opened up the door, and led her through a labyrinth of hallways; each secured by a locked door, only accessible by keycard.
Finally, the vampire led Buffy into the garage, and tried the elevator. It didn’t open.
“I don’t think this keycard is going to work on this,” he began.
“Then I’m just going to have to open it myself,” she said. Mustering slayer strength she didn’t know she still had, she gave the paneled doors a vicious kick.
“That’s better,” she said, as it slid open. She grabbed the vampire, and pulled him inside. There were two buttons besides the garage. One said Penthouse, the other 10th floor. She pressed the 10th floor.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Upstairs, beyond the White Room, the Senior Partners stared at the monitors, which had detected Buffy from the moment she had walked onto Wolfram & Hart’s property.
“Who is that?” asked the blue robed one.
“I believe that would be Miss Summers, the former Slayer,” answered Gordon.
“The one who Angel...?” asked the yellow robed one.
Gordon nodded.
“What are we going to do?”
“I guess we’re going to talk to her.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The door to the elevator opened, facing the large, rounded reception desk.
“May I help you?” asked a woman.
“Angel. Where is he?” Buffy asked, glaring at her.
“I’m sorry, he’s not here,” the secretary answered. She eyed the young, intense woman nervously. Nobody, except her boss, and security-cleared employees or guests used that elevator, and she always had the list of who to expect. She pressed a silent alarm under her desk. A moment later, two guards appeared; each from opposite sides.
Out of the periphery of her vision, Buffy saw them flanking her. She charged for the door of the inner office. The secretary tried to block her way, but Buffy easily knocked her out of the way, by swinging the hostage-vampire into her. They both collapsed onto the floor.
Quickly, she dispatched the guards. The first, taking a swing at her with a Billy club like device. She grabbed it from him, tossing it away. She heard the crunch of bone, as she kicked him in the knee, as hard as she could, collapsing him where he stood.
“Stop,” yelled the second guard, aiming his gun at her. Buffy kicked it out of his hands, followed by one to the head, before he got a shot off. He went down, as well.
Buffy kicked open the door of the office, fully expecting to see Angel waiting to greet her. She stood still, catching her breath, and looked around at the empty office.
“Come out you bastard,” she yelled, frustrated. “Show yourself!”
Just then, she heard the door close behind her, and whirled around, stake at the ready. She watched, as three robed figures materialized before her.
“I’m afraid he’s not here Miss Summers, you’re too late,” said Gordon.
“Who the hell are you, and how do you know who I am?” she asked the purple robed figure that had addressed her.
“I’m sorry, how rude of me. I’m Gordon, this is Estaban, he said, pointing to the blue clad figure, “and this is Antomias. We’re the Senior Partners; we run Wolfram & Hart.”
“Doesn’t mean anything to me,” she said, putting her hands on her hips. “I’ve no argument with you, my dealings are with Angel, and what do you mean I’m too late?”
“I’m afraid he’s indefinitely indisposed,” said Gordon.
She shook her head; “I don’t believe you!”
“I’m very sorry Miss Summers, but I assure you it’s true. Or is it Miss Worthington? Mrs. Worthington? Or do you gals prefer the ambiguous Ms. these days?
“How do you...?”
“Surely you know that we’re the ones responsible for the amulet, brought to you by Angel to fight The First, and consequently worn by William the Bloody? And the prophecy that allowed him to come back as a human?”
Buffy paled, her throat suddenly gone dry.
“Why don’t you sit down,” Gordon suggested.
“I don’t want to sit, I want to see Angel.”
“I don’t want to sit, I want to see Angel.”
"That's quite impossible, as Angel is gone."
"Gone? Where is he?"
“He’s been taken back to Ireland by the coven, to live out his days, or rather nights far from you, and us. Far away from your paramour, William.”
“The coven? What coven?” she asked, although she already knew the answer.
“Why the one that your friend Willow Rosenberg belongs to, of course."
"Why? How...?"
"The coven and Wolfram & Hart go way back, Ms. Worthington, we've...let's just say we came to an understanding years ago, and though we may not go about things in the same manner, our interests haven't always, shall we say, been incompatible. We were quite disheartened to hear that Angel had not only attacked you and William, but our 'friends' at the coven, as well, and so we came to an agreement."
“Meaning what exactly?”
“That in exchange for us relinquishing him to them, they agree to the status quo of our prior agreement.”
Buffy shook her head, not believing what she was hearing. “And Angel?”
"Your Angel has had all his enhanced vampiric powers removed, and of course, his corporate ones as well, for breaching his contract, and going outside of our sanctioned means. He’ll no longer be a threat to anyone.”
"When...when did they take him?"
“Just today, this morning in fact; you just missed him.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Buffy walked out of Wolfram & Hart, this time via the front exit.
Nobody stopped her, or looked at her one way or the other.
It had started to pour while she had been inside. For most Southern California residents, it was a welcome relief, coming on the heels of two weeks of an early season of Santa Ana winds.
Buffy wasn’t thinking about that, as she walked back to her car, getting soaked in the process. The rain only served to accentuate her failure of being able to confront Angel herself. Circumstances beyond her control had worked to deny her, her pound of flesh. There wobe nbe no satisfying retribution, no slayer justice; Angel had been allowed to live, in what manner of speaking that ‘living’ would mean she had no idea. But she had no doubt that her life, as she’d known it over the past 5 years, and particularly the last year; the wondrous year of having found out that William was alive, of being in love again, anew, was over.
Sopping wet and defeated, Buffy got into her car, and turned it back towards the highway.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
JULIAN
4:30PM
William awoke with a start to the sounds of thunder and lightning. The light he’d left on in the bathroom flickered and went out, the the house became still of the normal hum of electrical things that they took for granted.
He looked over at the charger; the light was out on that, as well. He picked up the phone, hoping it had been charging long enough. It turned on, but out of the possible four bars showing how much power his phone had, it only showed one. He looked dond snd saw that he had missed a phone call. He * 86’d it and put in his code – the numbers in Elizabeth’s birthday 0121, and listened for the message.
“William, this is Elizabeth. I know I said I’d be coming home...” was all he heard, before the phone died.
William stared at the phone, as his stomach clenched, sickeningly.
“What have I done? Elizabeth... oh God no...please...”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
5:00PM
Numb, Buffy drove slowly, peering through the sheets of rain pounding on her windshiled. She never had considered herself anything more than an adequate driver in the first place, and the rain, and rush-hour Los Angeles traffic was using up her last reserves.
Suddenly, she felt the sickening bumpety-bump-bump of a blown tire. She was in the middle lane of a 5 lane highway, and had to get over two lanes to the shoulder on a bum tire, which took her almost 2 minutes to accomplish. In that two minutes, she was honked at, cursed at, and given the universal sign for screw you from at least 3 passing cars.
Pulling over on the narrow shoulder, she put on her hazard lights, and turned off the car. She felt around underneath the back seat until she came to her umbrella, then got out of the car. Immediately, the wind whipped the umbrella inside out, making it useless. She fought with it trying to right it, so she could at least put it back into the car, but it wouldn’t give, succeeding only in pinching her fingers in between the spokes. Giving up, she tossed it over the side into the grass, and hoped the wind didn’t catch it and fling it into some hapless motorists’ windshield. Soaking wet now, she opened up the trunk and moved all the stuff that was in there to the back seat. Finally, she got the cover up, and looked at the spare. It was partially flat. Next, she looked around for her jack, but after about 2 minutes of frantic searching of her trunk, and backseat, she remembered that she’d lent it to Clem.
Defeated, she slammed the trunk, and went to get back into the car. She had just opened the front door, when a semi-truck barreled by, soaking her from head to toe with dirty water, and also managing to get the front seat wet. Shocked, she slammed the door shut. Buffy started to laugh hysterically, until her laughter turned to great, heaving sobs, as she gave in to all the sorrow that had brought her to this moment.
Finally, she stopped. She checked inside her purse and found her phone, and an emergency AAA card, which Hank had given her, when he’d given her the car.
After getting a busy signal for more than 10 minutes, she finally spoke to someone, who said that they would send someone as soon as possible, but that it might be a couple of hours.
Next, she called home; hoping that William had his cell phone on. The voice mail picked up.
“William, it’s me. I’ve got a flat tire, and I don’t know how long it’s going to be before someone can come out and fix it for me. I’d do it myself, but I don’t think the spare has enough air in it, and I’m on the highway. Also, I think Clem borrowed my jack. I’m so sorry about everything William. I’m sorry I left today, I just needed to...”
“Message ending. If you wish to keep this message, please press 1, if you wish to redo it, please press 2.”
Buffy pressed 2.
“William, it’s almost 6pm. I’m stranded right now with a flat tire on the highway. Help is coming, but not for a while. I’m not sure when I’ll be home. I’m sorry I’ve been away all day. I didn’t intend to... really...I just. I’ll tell you about it when I get home. I love you. I love you so...”
“Message ending. If you wish...”
Buffy pressed 1, then leaned back against the seat and waited.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
JULIAN
8:00PM
Hours passed, and with each one, William felt more miserable, dejected, and terrified. With each sound of the tree limbs outside shaking, cracking, or things on the patio being blown about, he imagined it was another vampire, come to finish the job, or worse.
“Come back, I need you!” he cried out, his voice echoing in the empty house. The crack of thunder was his only answer, as he slumped down against the wall.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
9:30PM
The rain was just starting to let up, as Buffy pulled up in front of the darkened cabin. The lights were out, as they’d also seemed to be all over towut sut somehow it seemed to be all the darker and lonelier out here. She could feel it coming from the house like waves, like something alive, this sense of loneliness.
Buffy hurried inside. “William?” she called out in the dark.
There was no answer.
She lit a candle in the kitchen, and brought it with her. The first place she checked was the bedroom, next the bathroom, then the adjoining door to the spare bedroom.
“William!” she called again, panic beginning tse use up inside her. Would he have gone out on a night like this? His car was still there so where would he have gone?
She was just about to head out to the barn, when something made her look towards the far wall. William sat huddled in the corner, about 5 feet away from their computer desk. His arms were wrapped around his knees, and he was staring straight ahead.
“William,” she said, hurrying over to him. She knelt down, setting the candle on the floor. “What’s the matter? Are you hurt?”
“William?” she said, reaching out and touching him lightly on the shoulder. He didn’t respond to her touch.
“You left, you went away,” he said, tonelessly.
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to go for so long, I just...”
Lightening suddenly lit up the room, and he looked up at her, as if seeing her for the first time since she’d been there. Her face had streaks of dirt on it, as did her clothes, and her hair was matted and tangled.
His eyes widened in recognition, then in concern as he took her in. He lifted his right hand, and gently touched her face, his thumb wiping at a smudge of dirt on her cheek.
She made a small sound, and flung herself into his arms, crying on his shoulder.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she repeated again and again.
Automatically, his other arm came up around her back, and he held her tight to his chest, shuddering in relief. “Shhh, it’s okay, luv,” he shushed into her hair.
They clung to each other for a long time, until finally she pulled back, “When did the power go off?”
“I don’t know. A few hours ago, I think.”
Are you hungry?”
He nodded.
“How about if I make us some sandwiches?”
“Okay,” he said.
She stood up, and put out her hand to him, he took it, and allowed her to pull him to his feet. She smiled at him, and still holding onto his hand, led him into the kitchen.
She lit a few more candles, and went about finding something to make sandwiches with. There were only a couple of slices of bread left, since she’d never made it to the store. She made him a sandwich out of the remaining two, using the heels for her own. She found a jar of applesauce in one of the cupboards, and put some into two bowls.
“What happened?” she asked, pointing to the chips on the floor.
“Couldn’t get it opened with one hand. I’ll clean it...”
“It’s okay. Nevermind.”
“Had to break the bottles of ibuprofen and the one from John, too.”
“Oh,” she said, guiltily.
They ate their sandwiches wordlessly, each stealing glances at each other between bites.
“I’ll clean up some, you should get out of those wet clothes.”
She looked down at herself; she had forgotten what a mess she was. She shuddered involuntarily. “I guess I should. I think I’ll take a shower; hope the hot water is still....but you don’t have to do anything out here. It was only sandwiches, and the bowls can wait until tomorrow.”
“Alright.”
“Will you...?”
“What?” he asked.
“Come and wait for me? In the bedroom?”
He nodded, looking into her eyes.
“Thank you,” she said softly.
END CHAPTER 152
JULIAN
AUGUST 15, 2009
FRIDAY
3:00pm
William wandered aimlessly around the house. He fohis his phone under some paper on the counter, and tried to turn it on, but it wasn’t charged. He spent another 10 minutes locating the charger, which he finally recalled, had been packed for their trip to Michigan. He plugged it in, and put the phone in, remembering to turn it on as it charged, in case she called.
He wandered off to the living room, turned on the television, surfed through the channels for about a minute, before turning it off. Just as he did, he heard the phone ringing, and hurried to get it. He managed to hold his wrist against cha charger, in order to lift the phone out of it.
“Hello?”
“Hello, this is a courtesy call from Verizon. Are you getting the best rates you can? If not, consider changing your phone service. Not only does Verizon have the best rates for local and long distance...”
“Shit!” William said, managing to slam the phone off. He opened it again, and managed to get it back into the cradle.
He’d banged his hand in the process, and now it throbbed again. He was about to get some Ibuprofen, when he remembered the anti-inflammatory that John had left. He found the bottle in the bedroom, and tried to open it. Five minutes later, he gave up, and went back to his original choice, only that bottle seemed not to want to open either.
Finally, he found a hammer in the bottom drawer, and broke the original bottle. Not satisfied, he struck the second bottle as well. He picked through the broken plastic and broken pills to find a good one, which he swallowed. Then, took one more for good measure.
He cleaned up as best he could, then went back to the bedroom, taking the phone and charger with him, and plugging it in next to the bed. He lay back down, feeling alone and defeated by everything.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Buffy stopped at a gas station outside of Los Angeles to pick up a map and look in the telephone book.
Forty minutes later, she turned west on Alameda Avenue, driving down the street slowly, until she came to 1900 block. Of course, she only had to see the huge stone sign in front of the building, vainly displaying for all the world to see the name of Evil, Inc. Incarnate; Wolfram & Hart.
Buffy drove around until she found a parking lot on the next block. She put on a jacket she had in the backseat, and put Mr. Pointy 2.0 in the back of her waistband, before walking the two blocks to the rear of the building.
To the left of the center door was a downward sloping driveway, leading to a loading dock. She walked up the half dozen steps to the entryway, and tried the handle of the door. It was locked naturally.
“Who is it?” asked a voice.
“Delivery,” she answered.
Suddenly a vampire, a mere fledgling, sporting a security badge flung open the door.
“Hey, you’re not...” he began, looking at her empty hands, and lack of delivery attire.
Without thinking, she grabbed the vampire, and pulled him out onto the landing. With one hand, she grabbed her stake, holding it up against his back, with the other; she pushed him over towards the edge, towards the sun.
“Jesus lady! What the hell are you? What do you want?” he asked, terrified; as the front of his pants were already beginning to smolder.
“I’m the freakin’ Slayer, you idiot! Ever hear of me?”
“I heard of slayers...”
“Well, I was The Slayer, before the others, and if you don’t want to be a big ‘ole pile o’ dust, you’ll do exactly what tell you to.”
“Okay, okay,” said the vamp hurriedly. He had just begun to work there last week, and wasn’t at all willing to die in the line of duty.
She yanked him around, until he faced her.
“I want you to get me in to see Angel.”
The vampire looked at her blankly. “Who?”
“The C.E.O. of the company, you nit!”
“Oh, him; Mr. Angel? I don’t think I can...”
Buffy yanked him again, so that now half of his body was hanging precariously off the landing.
“Okay, okay,” he screamed, “just pull me back!”
“That’s better,” she said, slamming him against the wall.
“Now,” Buffy began, “I want you to think very carefully abhow how you’re going to answer this. How can you get me up to Angel’s office?”
The vampire thought about it for a minute, before remembering the elevator in the garage, which went up to the penthouse suite and office. He motioned for Buffy to follow him. He opened up the door, and led her through a labyrinth of hallways; each secured by a locked door, only accessible by keycard.
Finally, the vampire led Buffy into the garage, and tried the elevator. It didn’t open.
“I don’t think this keycard is going to work on this,” he began.
“Then I’m just going to have to open it myself,” she said. Mustering slayer strength she didn’t know she still had, she gave the paneled doors a vicious kick.
“That’s better,” she said, as it slid open. She grabbed the vampire, and pulled him inside. There were two buttons besides the garage. One said Penthouse, the other 10th floor. She pressed the 10th floor.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Upstairs, beyond the White Room, the Senior Partners stared at the monitors, which had detected Buffy from the moment she had walked onto Wolfram & Hart’s property.
“Who is that?” asked the blue robed one.
“I believe that would be Miss Summers, the former Slayer,” answered Gordon.
“The one who Angel...?” asked the yellow robed one.
Gordon nodded.
“What are we going to do?”
“I guess we’re going to talk to her.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The door to the elevator opened, facing the large, rounded reception desk.
“May I help you?” asked a woman.
“Angel. Where is he?” Buffy asked, glaring at her.
“I’m sorry, he’s not here,” the secretary answered. She eyed the young, intense woman nervously. Nobody, except her boss, and security-cleared employees or guests used that elevator, and she always had the list of who to expect. She pressed a silent alarm under her desk. A moment later, two guards appeared; each from opposite sides.
Out of the periphery of her vision, Buffy saw them flanking her. She charged for the door of the inner office. The secretary tried to block her way, but Buffy easily knocked her out of the way, by swinging the hostage-vampire into her. They both collapsed onto the floor.
Quickly, she dispatched the guards. The first, taking a swing at her with a Billy club like device. She grabbed it from him, tossing it away. She heard the crunch of bone, as she kicked him in the knee, as hard as she could, collapsing him where he stood.
“Stop,” yelled the second guard, aiming his gun at her. Buffy kicked it out of his hands, followed by one to the head, before he got a shot off. He went down, as well.
Buffy kicked open the door of the office, fully expecting to see Angel waiting to greet her. She stood still, catching her breath, and looked around at the empty office.
“Come out you bastard,” she yelled, frustrated. “Show yourself!”
Just then, she heard the door close behind her, and whirled around, stake at the ready. She watched, as three robed figures materialized before her.
“I’m afraid he’s not here Miss Summers, you’re too late,” said Gordon.
“Who the hell are you, and how do you know who I am?” she asked the purple robed figure that had addressed her.
“I’m sorry, how rude of me. I’m Gordon, this is Estaban, he said, pointing to the blue clad figure, “and this is Antomias. We’re the Senior Partners; we run Wolfram & Hart.”
“Doesn’t mean anything to me,” she said, putting her hands on her hips. “I’ve no argument with you, my dealings are with Angel, and what do you mean I’m too late?”
“I’m afraid he’s indefinitely indisposed,” said Gordon.
She shook her head; “I don’t believe you!”
“I’m very sorry Miss Summers, but I assure you it’s true. Or is it Miss Worthington? Mrs. Worthington? Or do you gals prefer the ambiguous Ms. these days?
“How do you...?”
“Surely you know that we’re the ones responsible for the amulet, brought to you by Angel to fight The First, and consequently worn by William the Bloody? And the prophecy that allowed him to come back as a human?”
Buffy paled, her throat suddenly gone dry.
“Why don’t you sit down,” Gordon suggested.
“I don’t want to sit, I want to see Angel.”
“I don’t want to sit, I want to see Angel.”
"That's quite impossible, as Angel is gone."
"Gone? Where is he?"
“He’s been taken back to Ireland by the coven, to live out his days, or rather nights far from you, and us. Far away from your paramour, William.”
“The coven? What coven?” she asked, although she already knew the answer.
“Why the one that your friend Willow Rosenberg belongs to, of course."
"Why? How...?"
"The coven and Wolfram & Hart go way back, Ms. Worthington, we've...let's just say we came to an understanding years ago, and though we may not go about things in the same manner, our interests haven't always, shall we say, been incompatible. We were quite disheartened to hear that Angel had not only attacked you and William, but our 'friends' at the coven, as well, and so we came to an agreement."
“Meaning what exactly?”
“That in exchange for us relinquishing him to them, they agree to the status quo of our prior agreement.”
Buffy shook her head, not believing what she was hearing. “And Angel?”
"Your Angel has had all his enhanced vampiric powers removed, and of course, his corporate ones as well, for breaching his contract, and going outside of our sanctioned means. He’ll no longer be a threat to anyone.”
"When...when did they take him?"
“Just today, this morning in fact; you just missed him.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Buffy walked out of Wolfram & Hart, this time via the front exit.
Nobody stopped her, or looked at her one way or the other.
It had started to pour while she had been inside. For most Southern California residents, it was a welcome relief, coming on the heels of two weeks of an early season of Santa Ana winds.
Buffy wasn’t thinking about that, as she walked back to her car, getting soaked in the process. The rain only served to accentuate her failure of being able to confront Angel herself. Circumstances beyond her control had worked to deny her, her pound of flesh. There wobe nbe no satisfying retribution, no slayer justice; Angel had been allowed to live, in what manner of speaking that ‘living’ would mean she had no idea. But she had no doubt that her life, as she’d known it over the past 5 years, and particularly the last year; the wondrous year of having found out that William was alive, of being in love again, anew, was over.
Sopping wet and defeated, Buffy got into her car, and turned it back towards the highway.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
JULIAN
4:30PM
William awoke with a start to the sounds of thunder and lightning. The light he’d left on in the bathroom flickered and went out, the the house became still of the normal hum of electrical things that they took for granted.
He looked over at the charger; the light was out on that, as well. He picked up the phone, hoping it had been charging long enough. It turned on, but out of the possible four bars showing how much power his phone had, it only showed one. He looked dond snd saw that he had missed a phone call. He * 86’d it and put in his code – the numbers in Elizabeth’s birthday 0121, and listened for the message.
“William, this is Elizabeth. I know I said I’d be coming home...” was all he heard, before the phone died.
William stared at the phone, as his stomach clenched, sickeningly.
“What have I done? Elizabeth... oh God no...please...”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
5:00PM
Numb, Buffy drove slowly, peering through the sheets of rain pounding on her windshiled. She never had considered herself anything more than an adequate driver in the first place, and the rain, and rush-hour Los Angeles traffic was using up her last reserves.
Suddenly, she felt the sickening bumpety-bump-bump of a blown tire. She was in the middle lane of a 5 lane highway, and had to get over two lanes to the shoulder on a bum tire, which took her almost 2 minutes to accomplish. In that two minutes, she was honked at, cursed at, and given the universal sign for screw you from at least 3 passing cars.
Pulling over on the narrow shoulder, she put on her hazard lights, and turned off the car. She felt around underneath the back seat until she came to her umbrella, then got out of the car. Immediately, the wind whipped the umbrella inside out, making it useless. She fought with it trying to right it, so she could at least put it back into the car, but it wouldn’t give, succeeding only in pinching her fingers in between the spokes. Giving up, she tossed it over the side into the grass, and hoped the wind didn’t catch it and fling it into some hapless motorists’ windshield. Soaking wet now, she opened up the trunk and moved all the stuff that was in there to the back seat. Finally, she got the cover up, and looked at the spare. It was partially flat. Next, she looked around for her jack, but after about 2 minutes of frantic searching of her trunk, and backseat, she remembered that she’d lent it to Clem.
Defeated, she slammed the trunk, and went to get back into the car. She had just opened the front door, when a semi-truck barreled by, soaking her from head to toe with dirty water, and also managing to get the front seat wet. Shocked, she slammed the door shut. Buffy started to laugh hysterically, until her laughter turned to great, heaving sobs, as she gave in to all the sorrow that had brought her to this moment.
Finally, she stopped. She checked inside her purse and found her phone, and an emergency AAA card, which Hank had given her, when he’d given her the car.
After getting a busy signal for more than 10 minutes, she finally spoke to someone, who said that they would send someone as soon as possible, but that it might be a couple of hours.
Next, she called home; hoping that William had his cell phone on. The voice mail picked up.
“William, it’s me. I’ve got a flat tire, and I don’t know how long it’s going to be before someone can come out and fix it for me. I’d do it myself, but I don’t think the spare has enough air in it, and I’m on the highway. Also, I think Clem borrowed my jack. I’m so sorry about everything William. I’m sorry I left today, I just needed to...”
“Message ending. If you wish to keep this message, please press 1, if you wish to redo it, please press 2.”
Buffy pressed 2.
“William, it’s almost 6pm. I’m stranded right now with a flat tire on the highway. Help is coming, but not for a while. I’m not sure when I’ll be home. I’m sorry I’ve been away all day. I didn’t intend to... really...I just. I’ll tell you about it when I get home. I love you. I love you so...”
“Message ending. If you wish...”
Buffy pressed 1, then leaned back against the seat and waited.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
JULIAN
8:00PM
Hours passed, and with each one, William felt more miserable, dejected, and terrified. With each sound of the tree limbs outside shaking, cracking, or things on the patio being blown about, he imagined it was another vampire, come to finish the job, or worse.
“Come back, I need you!” he cried out, his voice echoing in the empty house. The crack of thunder was his only answer, as he slumped down against the wall.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
9:30PM
The rain was just starting to let up, as Buffy pulled up in front of the darkened cabin. The lights were out, as they’d also seemed to be all over towut sut somehow it seemed to be all the darker and lonelier out here. She could feel it coming from the house like waves, like something alive, this sense of loneliness.
Buffy hurried inside. “William?” she called out in the dark.
There was no answer.
She lit a candle in the kitchen, and brought it with her. The first place she checked was the bedroom, next the bathroom, then the adjoining door to the spare bedroom.
“William!” she called again, panic beginning tse use up inside her. Would he have gone out on a night like this? His car was still there so where would he have gone?
She was just about to head out to the barn, when something made her look towards the far wall. William sat huddled in the corner, about 5 feet away from their computer desk. His arms were wrapped around his knees, and he was staring straight ahead.
“William,” she said, hurrying over to him. She knelt down, setting the candle on the floor. “What’s the matter? Are you hurt?”
“William?” she said, reaching out and touching him lightly on the shoulder. He didn’t respond to her touch.
“You left, you went away,” he said, tonelessly.
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to go for so long, I just...”
Lightening suddenly lit up the room, and he looked up at her, as if seeing her for the first time since she’d been there. Her face had streaks of dirt on it, as did her clothes, and her hair was matted and tangled.
His eyes widened in recognition, then in concern as he took her in. He lifted his right hand, and gently touched her face, his thumb wiping at a smudge of dirt on her cheek.
She made a small sound, and flung herself into his arms, crying on his shoulder.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she repeated again and again.
Automatically, his other arm came up around her back, and he held her tight to his chest, shuddering in relief. “Shhh, it’s okay, luv,” he shushed into her hair.
They clung to each other for a long time, until finally she pulled back, “When did the power go off?”
“I don’t know. A few hours ago, I think.”
Are you hungry?”
He nodded.
“How about if I make us some sandwiches?”
“Okay,” he said.
She stood up, and put out her hand to him, he took it, and allowed her to pull him to his feet. She smiled at him, and still holding onto his hand, led him into the kitchen.
She lit a few more candles, and went about finding something to make sandwiches with. There were only a couple of slices of bread left, since she’d never made it to the store. She made him a sandwich out of the remaining two, using the heels for her own. She found a jar of applesauce in one of the cupboards, and put some into two bowls.
“What happened?” she asked, pointing to the chips on the floor.
“Couldn’t get it opened with one hand. I’ll clean it...”
“It’s okay. Nevermind.”
“Had to break the bottles of ibuprofen and the one from John, too.”
“Oh,” she said, guiltily.
They ate their sandwiches wordlessly, each stealing glances at each other between bites.
“I’ll clean up some, you should get out of those wet clothes.”
She looked down at herself; she had forgotten what a mess she was. She shuddered involuntarily. “I guess I should. I think I’ll take a shower; hope the hot water is still....but you don’t have to do anything out here. It was only sandwiches, and the bowls can wait until tomorrow.”
“Alright.”
“Will you...?”
“What?” he asked.
“Come and wait for me? In the bedroom?”
He nodded, looking into her eyes.
“Thank you,” she said softly.
END CHAPTER 152