Alec wandered around the hideout a little, lost in thought, when he heard what sounded like muffled crying. Having just come from a tearfest he looked around and saw a shape huddled miserably against a storm drain. He squinted.
“Dawn?” he asked quietly.
“Why are you doing this, Alec?” was all the response he got back.
“Why am I doing…?”
Dawn got to her feet and advanced on him.
“This. Going to fight these death vampires when you’re already injured.”
“Because-“
“If you say ‘because it’s what needs to be done’, so help me, I will beat you to death, Alec Giles.”
Alec blinked, a little taken aback. Dawn came closer.
“Why, Alec? Why are you doing this? Buffy managed before you arrived, she can handle this, with Angel and Willow and the others; they can all handle this. So, why does it have to be you every time?”
“I don’t know, I guess partly it’s because I’m just trying to take care of them, they’re important to me.”
“And you’re important to me!” Dawn blurted out. “You. Are. Important. Why is that so hard for you to see?”
“Because, I don’t know what else to do, I guess. I’ve spent over a hundred years in a demon dimension, training to fight, to slay demons, and to win. Side by side with Buffy, protecting the people I care about. If I’m not doing that, then what am I to do?”
He looked down for a second.
“What use am I if I am not beating back the darkness?”
Dawn’s heart nearly broke at those words and the tone that he spoke them in; for the first time not sounding like the confidant young warrior she’d associated him with, but instead as someone just like her sister - trapped by a destiny he didn’t understand and afraid to fail the people he cared about.
“Alec, you are a light,” Dawn began.
Alec snorted a little at that and Dawn tilted her head to look him in the eye, bringing a hand up to gently coax his chin back up.
“You are an amazing, wonderful, courageous…” She ran out of words and sputtered a little, trying to fit all the things she felt for this man into a single sentence and failing. “But the point is that you’re not just a weapon to be pointed at the enemy and let loose. You’re not an attack dog, you’re Giles’ son and Buffy’s brother.” She smiled a little. “And you’re Willow’s boyfriend, and you’re my friend, and we all care about you dearly. You, Alec, not what you can do or how you fight or how you protect us, just you. All of you.”
Alec smiled a little and nodded and Dawn’s heart fluttered a little.
“Besides, it could be worse, you could be useless, like me,” she said quipping lightly.
“You,” Alec commented, “are not useless.”
Dawn scoffed. “Sure doesn’t seem that way. She makes me feel so… useless,” she choked out and Alec was surprised to see tears back in her eyes.
Their positions were reversed and it was now Alec’s turn to be strong for her. Wordlessly he gathered Dawn up in a tight embrace with his one arm and rocked her gently.
“She doesn’t think you’re useless,” he assured her.
She looked up at him in disbelief.
“Oh, yeah? You notice she didn’t ask Faith, or her boyfriend, to join you guys. They can both fight really well.” She sniffled. “You know why? I’ll tell you. Because she left them behind to watch out for me, while you and her and the others enter a big black tomb, probably to die down there,” she shook her head angrily. “I’m a burden!”
“Hey!” Alec said firmly, forcing her to look up at him. “NO ONE is dying down there tomorrow. Not me, not your sister, not anyone. You hear me?” he demanded. Dawn just sniffled. “And you are NOT useless, Dawn. You have a purpose, a very great purpose.”
Dawn snorted derisively. “Yeah, what, to catch all two hundred Pokemon?” she demanded bitterly.
Alec shook his head.
“No, someday, your presence, your contribution, will be key to us all,” he said carefully, trying to dance around the truth.
Dawn snorted.
“God, ever since Buffy and I had that fight, and she told me I wasn’t her sister or something like that, she’s been acting all weird and super-protective of me.” She wiped at her eyes. “It used to be she couldn’t care less where I was, now she has to know, like, all the time.” She sniffled again. “I hate it,” she muttered.
“Would you rather she go back to supposedly not caring?” Alec asked simply.
Dawn frowned. “I just wish she would trust me. I just wish she wasn’t always trying to get rid of me, like I’m in the way all the time. I wish… I could do something right, in her eyes,” she whispered.
Alec smiled in understanding. Few things were as compelling as a younger siblings search for approval from their older siblings. Buffy had done it a few times with him in the beginning of their relationship, feeling like she had something to prove to the older son of the man she regarded as a father, before she’d settled into the comfortable groove the two of them had now.
“She does trust you,” Alec assured her. “I mean, look at it this way. Instead of sitting in some luxurious swanky hotel in Manhattan eating popcorn and watching all the TRL you could handle. You’re here with us… in the middle of a sewer…” he frowned as Dawn began to smile slightly, “…fighting for our lives every day against demonic forces of evil. You know,” he began, “maybe you’re right. If your sister was trying to get rid of you, this would be a good way to go about doing it.” He looked down, grinning teasingly as Dawn socked him with a tiny fist.
“Creep,” she muttered sniffling.
Alec nodded and held her gently.
“Yeah, but I’m your creep, so I’m forgiven,” he replied.
Dawn smiled blissfully at the thought of Alec being ‘hers’ before hugging him tightly.
“You’re not a creep,” she told him.
Alec shrugged. “Darn, I’ve always wanted to be a creep, or at least a troglodyte or something equally unpleasant,” he quipped.
Dawn laughed and sniffled.
“You’re not any of those things,” she said softly.
Alec looked down. “No? What am I then?” he asked.
Dawn squeezed him hard. “You’re my hero,” she whispered.
Alec smiled and kissed her head, touched, before patting her arm.
“Come on, you know what we need?” he asked grinning.
“Corn flakes with sugar?” Dawn asked as Alec scooped a heaping tablespoon of sugar on her bowl of cereal.
“Don’t knock it, petite, stuff is soul food,” Alec replied, pouring milk over her cereal and some for himself. “Comfort food is essential to life,” he informed her. He held up a spoon. “Cheers!”
Dawn grinned and tapped her spoon against his before digging in.
“You know,” Dawn began through a mouthful of cereal. “You never did tell me how you did that trick with the blades coming out of your arms the other night.” She swallowed and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.
Alec shrugged, a little uncomfortable.
“I’m really not sure how it happened either,” he admitted. “I just got really scared and angry at the thought of you getting hurt by that vampire and I sort of just… freaked,” he replied.
Dawn smiled, touched.
“Yeah, I remember, you wailed on that dude. Wham!” she exclaimed slamming her fist into her hand emphatically and nearly knocking the glass milk jug off the table.
Alec dove for it and caught it before it tipped over.
Dawn blushed. “Sorry,” she apologized meekly.
Alec grinned and straightened the milk jug.
“It’s not a problem. Combat reflexes and all that. Helps me keep up with the Slayers.” He crunched on a mouthful of sugary corn flakes thoughtfully. “Which reminds me,” he began, swallowing. “What exactly went down between your sister and Faith?” he asked.
Dawn looked down.
“I don’t really know,” she started. “I just know that Buffy hated her more than anyone in the whole world. Sometimes Buffy would cry for no reason, I’d ask what was wrong, but she’d never tell me. Riley and she sort of… drifted apart during the summer. Maybe Faith had something to do with that, I don’t know,” Dawn admitted.
Alec nodded. “Yeah, I heard something like that. He was transferred?”
Dawn shook her head.
“Nope. He once asked me to keep a secret.” She smiled slightly. “But I can tell you.” She looked up at Alec. “Right?”
Alec ‘mm-hmm’-ed and she continued.
“Riley wasn’t transferred, at least not exactly. He told me one night, after Buffy and he had sort of broken up, that he’d put in for a relocation to Nevada,” she confessed.
Alec’s eyes widened. “I was always under the impression that they had broken up because he’d been transferred.”
Dawn shook her head.
“Nope, although that’s what he told her. He said she didn’t want him pining away for someone who wasn’t going to be there for her, the way she deserved. Or something like that.” She waved a hand dismissively. “I try not to pay too much attention to what my sister does; most of it is pretty nasty.”
“Does that include me?” Alec asked the girl wryly.
Dawn’s hand flew to her mouth as she blushed.
“No! I mean, no way.” She put a hand on his shoulder. “You’re very un-nasty. You are so unbelievably far from nasty it’s not funny,” she reassured him hurriedly.
Alec chuckled and patted her hand affectionately.
“So why did Riley put in for transfer?” Alec asked.
Dawn leaned in close to whisper.
“He told me, the night he left. He said that Buffy loved him, but that she wasn’t IN love with him.” She shook her head as Alec frowned.
“What the hell does that mean?” he asked incredulously.
“Beats me.” Dawn shrugged. “All I know is he told me that, wished me good luck, and walked out the door.” She sighed. “That was the last either of us ever saw of him.”
Alec exhaled hard and leaned back.
“Wow. And you’ve been keeping this secret all this time?” he asked.
Dawn nodded.
“Did Riley often entrust you with whoppers like that?” Alec inquired.
The girl shook her head.
“Nope, first time, but he was always really nice to me. Not like Spike, whose only words to me are ‘fetch my lights, turn up the music,’ and ‘Beer me!’ ” Her voice slipped into a pretty good impression of the British vampire, causing Alec to roar with laughter.
“That does sound like him,” he admitted through fits of laughter.
“Sounds like who?” a voice from behind them asked.
They turned to see Willow come into the kitchen area.
“I heard voices and I was hungry,” she explained.
Her eyes settled on the cereal box and sugar bowl.
“Ooo!” she exclaimed. “Corn Flakes with sugar! My favorite.” She gestured to an empty seat. “Can I… I mean, would you mind if I, maybe joined you guys?” she asked shyly.
Alec turned to Dawn, arching an inquiring eyebrow. Dawn frowned for a while, then sighed and smiled up at Willow, she had to get used to no longer being jealous of this woman.
Scooching down in her chair, she stretched out a leg and pushed the empty chair away from the table for Willow.
“Okay,” Dawn told her. “But I get first dibs on milk,” she warned the older woman.
“Deal,” Willow replied.
She smiled at both of them as Alec got another bowl and poured cereal in it. Willow began scooping heaping spoonful after heaping spoonful of sugar onto the cereal. Alec and Dawn gaped in amazement as Willow poured the milk over the cereal and took a big bite, somehow cramming an enormous amount cereal into her tiny mouth.
“Mmmmm!” she exclaimed happily, crunching nosily. Alec’s face broke out into a grin. “Ith guud!” Willow exclaimed through a very full mouth.
Alec laughed. “Don’t talk with your mouth full, honey,” he gently chastised her.
“Yeah,” Dawn put in. “Even my sister’s got better manners than that,” she admonished jokingly.
Willow put a hand over her heart, as if wounded by the comparison, and swallowed.
“Wow! That’s something,” Willow admitted grinning. “This stuff is good, but not as good as Lucky Charms,” she observed.
“I LOVE Lucky Charms!” Dawn exclaimed, her voice slipping into a really bad Irish accent. “Pink hearts, orange stars, yellow moons…” She frowned, before turning to Willow. “What were the others?” she asked.
“Green clovers,” Willow put in.
Dawn nodded her head rapidly. “That’s right, green clovers,”
“Blue diamonds,” Willow and Dawn said in unison, “purple horseshoes, red balloons, pots of gold and rainbows!” they finished, grinning triumphantly.
Dawn tried to chew and laugh at the same time, causing milk to dribble out the corners of her mouth, which caused her and Willow to laugh even harder. Willow shook her head.
“No, no, you’re doing it wrong. You have to…” she scooped up a large helping of cereal with her spoon, holding it up for them to see, “…and like this…” she demonstrated, tilting her head to the side to get the whole spoonful in her mouth. She chewed loudly and turned back to Alec and Dawn.
“Thee? Wyke dis!” she said through a mouthful of food.
Dawn was nearly delirious with laughter. Alec was grinning like an idiot. Leaning over he winked at Dawn.
“Watch this,” he whispered conspiringly.
Dawn frowned as Alec tapped Willow’s shoulder. She turned, still chewing her mouthful of cereal.
“Whu?” she asked.
Alec suddenly thrust his fingers over his eye, and peeled his nose back. With a gasping laugh, Willow spewed milk out of her nose and all over the table, wheezing and coughing.
“Ewwww!” Dawn exclaimed, hurriedly backing away from the table. “Gross!” she exclaimed, laughing.
Alec was nearly tipping over in his chair with laughter as Willow wiped at her running nose and watery eyes.
“Alec!” the redhead cried, rushing over to swat at him furiously.
Alec protected himself vainly.
“Every time! That face does it to her every time!” he howled with glee as Willow attacked him.
Dawn rushed over and began swatting at him as well. Alec cried out and toppled over backwards in his chair from the onslaught, the two women following him down, swatting and tickling him in turn. All three were howling with laughter that echoed long into the night.
Buffy sat down next to Giles who was seated at the table, cleaning his glasses. He looked up and smiled.
“Oh, hello, Buffy,” he smiled at her.
Buffy waved a little in greeting as she stretched her legs out in front of her. Giles replaced the glasses on his face.
“Angel told me what you did for Faith just now.” He reached out and gripped her hand. “I’m very proud of you, Buffy. It took a lot to forgive her her sins,” he stated.
Buffy just nodded. “Right up there with forgiving Angel?” she asked him point-blank.
Giles sighed. “Logically, I know that Angel and Angelus are two vastly different people. That Angel has risked his life for us several times over and has saved all our lives at least once,” he looked down.
“But illogically…?” Buffy asked tentatively.
Giles looked back up and exhaled hard.
“In my heart, I always wonder what his face looked like when he killed Jenny.” He looked back at Buffy. “I wonder if it looked at all the way it did while he was torturing me,” Giles said softly.
Buffy sighed in understanding.
“And that’s what your eyes see every time you look at him,” she finished quietly.
“With Spike, it’s different,” Giles explained. “I’ve never hated Spike.” he smiled slightly and looked down. “Although there were times,” he admitted, “when I was ready to turn that loudmouthed abrasive ponce into a coat rack,” he chuckled quietly.
“Thank you for not doing that,” Buffy smiled at him.
Giles scoffed.
“Thank a well-stocked liquor cabinet. If both of us had been sober during his stay at my home, neither of us would have survived the ordeal,” Giles commented direly.
Buffy laughed, but it was a strained laugh as Giles began to continue with his original train of thought.
“But Angel,” he looked at Buffy, “Angelus,” he corrected, “I hated very, very much,” Giles told her.
Buffy snorted humorlessly. “Yeah, I can see how killing your girlfriend and torturing you could get someone on your bad side,” she said softly.
“It wasn’t that,” Giles replied, causing Buffy’s head to shoot up at stare at him uncomprehendingly. “I hated him before that. I hated him after that first day. When I realized that you and he had…” his voice trailed off and Buffy got the hint, “…and he had taken that experience, that should have been one of the most beautiful experiences of your young life, and he twisted it and turned it against you.” He looked at Buffy.
“He turned an innocent girl's most intimate and vulnerable moment into an instrument of torture to be wielded against her.” He looked down and shook his head. “After that, I hated him.” He looked back up at the young Slayer. “It wasn’t my torture I condemned him for, Buffy. It was yours,” he finished and looked down.
Buffy’s eyes filled with tears as a rush of love for this man, who she had come to love and trust as a father, filled her. Getting up from the table, she leaned over and placed a soft kiss on his cheek. Giles looked up, stunned, then exhaled hard as Buffy gathered him in a tight hug that very nearly crushed the life out of him. Giles patted his ward’s shoulders.
“Buffy?” he whispered softly.
She sniffled. “Yeah?”
“I can’t breathe,” he told her.
Buffy hurriedly released him and he sucked in a lungful of air. She laughed a little, embarrassed, as she wiped away tears.
“I’m sorry, got a little carried away in the Hallmark of it all,” she explained.
Giles waved her apology away.
“No, it’s quite all right,” he assured her, then smiled, “actually it was quite pleasant.” He looked up at Buffy, resuming his speech. “I’ve always loved you as a daughter, a student, and a friend. You’ve made me more proud than any father could be, certainly more than any Watcher.” He stood and took her hands in his and looked up at her. “I have every confidence in your abilities, Buffy. I am certain we shall be victorious,” he told her firmly, his voice full of conviction.
“Giles?” Buffy sniffled as fresh tears sprang to her eyes.
“Yes, Buffy?” he asked quietly.
“Brace yourself.”
Giles frowned. “Whatever do you- OH!”
He cried out as Buffy slammed into him, knocking him back into his chair, hugging him tightly as fresh tears leaked down her face. Giles held her back just as tightly, his own eyes becoming moist with emotion. Finally, Buffy released him, sniffling and wiping away tears.
“Wow,” she laughed, standing up. “Been the night for ‘It’s a wonderful life’ moments, huh?” she asked.
Giles smiled slightly.
“Must be the holiday season, making us all sentimental,” he replied wryly.
Buffy laughed and wiped at her eyes.
“Giles?”
“Yes, Buffy?” he asked.
Buffy sat down next to him.
“Not that I’m complaining, in fact, those were some of the nicest things anyone’s ever said to me, but, why now?” she looked up at him. “I mean, you know I love you, right? You’ve been like the ‘dad-that-didn’t-split-and-go-to-L.A.’ I never had.”
Giles smiled warmly and nodded.
“So, why now? I mean, why put it into words now?”
Giles sighed and shrugged.
“I don’t know. Possibly it has something to do with Alec,” he smiled with paternal pride as his thoughts turned to his son briefly. “Coming to love him as a son reminded me how much I cared for you as a daughter. Also…”
He stopped to look at her, taking in the woman that had grown from the young girl, who, no more than five years ago, fresh to Sunnydale, had loudly declared to him on their first meeting her willing and eager intention to ignore her sacred birthright.
“Also, Buffy, you’ve grown up. You’ve become a woman,” he smiled. “You’ve fully come into your own. And I wanted to tell you before you outgrew all your sentimentality to this stuffy old coot,” Giles grinned self-deprecatingly.
Buffy shook her head.
“I’ll never outgrow my fuzzy daughter-shaped feelings for this stuffy old coot,” she replied smiling.
Giles chuckled. “Well, yes, be that as it may.” He looked up at her. “My own father was a very distant man. It was truly difficult to garner any kind of notice from him, never mind any sense of pride. I suppose that’s why I feel in with Ethan’s crowd.” He smirked wryly. “ ‘Desperate plea for attention’ and all that,” he quipped before becoming serious again. “I just never wanted you to feel like that. Feel that for one moment, I was anything other than completely proud of you.” He nodded his head. “There were times, I’ll admit, when I was a little unsure about your judgment.”
“Can those times be labeled ‘Angel’ by any chance?” Buffy asked wryly.
Giles nodded. “And Spike, and your fashion sense, and your taste in music.”
Buffy laughed. “Get back to the ‘praising me’ already!” she exclaimed.
Giles smiled. “But beyond all that. You’ve always pulled through and somehow tapped into reserves of strength that fill me with such… awe,” he looked up at Buffy, “and such pride, that for a father, who, until recently, had no children of his own, I can safely say that no daughter has made hers more proud,” he finished.
Buffy smiled at him warmly.
“So, how long is this ‘pride, love, and trust’ going to last?” she asked wryly.
“About until the same time that we are no longer in mortal peril,” Giles responded evenly. “At which time this will be reverting back to stern disapproval and priggish admonishment.” The former librarian grinned and Buffy threw her head back, laughing till her eyes were filled with tears of a different nature entirely.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” she gasped between laughs, wiping at her eyes.
“Buffy?”
“Yes, oh stern disapproving father figure?”
“Take care of Alec down there, he’s going to need you, now more than ever,” Giles said quietly. Buffy turned to look at him and saw that he was not kidding. “Keep him calm and collected. Whatever is afflicting him, it seems to feed on anger and fear.”
Buffy swallowed, but nodded.
“You can count on me, I will keep your son in super Zen Kung Fu mode. Promise.”
Giles smiled, reassured.
“When all this is over, and the Hellmouth is sent packing, perhaps you and I can sit down somewhere and have scones and tea,” she proposed wryly.
Giles smiled and placed a hand on her shoulder.
“I can think of nothing more I’d rather do,” he replied warmly.
“Well, I for one am very happy that you’re not going,” Anya put in, lying nude in Xander’s arms.
She nuzzled against his bare chest and tucked the sheet under her chin.
“That place sounds awful and it’s full of dead dusty things,” she looked up at him, “and if you died, I’d be very… upset,” she confided, struggling for the right words.
Xander smiled and kissed her forehead.
“I know, Ahn, I know,” he assured her. “I just wished sometimes I could contribute more.”
Anya frowned.
“Well, do you remember what that nice shiny-haired woman said? She said that you were what everyone else fights for, that you were joy and laughter,” she held him tightly. “Plus, you’re going to help get us really big guns. That sounds like helping to me.”
Xander sighed again. “I suppose you’re right,” he replied, not really believing it.
Anya lifted her head up and rested her weight on an elbow.
“Xander, just because you don’t beat people silly or cast spells, doesn’t mean you’re useless,” she explained.
“It doesn’t?” he asked lifting his body to rest on his elbow facing her.
“No!” she exclaimed. “Not at all. I mean, whose idea was it to go on a road trip?”
“Mine,” he replied cautiously.
“And who supplied the camper?”
“That would be me.”
“Right, and who was responsible for e-mailing Riley for the guns?” she asked.
“Well, technically that would be Willow, but I did contribute,” Xander amended.
Anya waved a hand dismissively.
“Come on! Hacking into the Pentagon and retrieving personal information from the U.S.’s top-secret laboratory pursuing the study of extraterrestrial life? Anyone can do that! You think that Willow would have had any idea what to order once she got the address?”
“No?” Xander put forth meekly.
Anya hit her pillow.
“Damn right!” she declared, before smiling sweetly. “So, you see how key you’ve been? Besides, it doesn’t matter whether you’re considered key to the group or not,” she told him.
He scoffed. “It doesn’t?” he asked skeptically.
Anya shook her head. “No. Because you’re key to me,” she told him.
Xander’s jaw sagged open.
“Anya that was… romantic!” he exclaimed giving his girlfriend a shocked look.
Anya smiled slightly before getting a serious look on her face.
“Yes, well, I want sex again, so I figured that this would be the best way of getting it. But it’s taking too long.” And with that, she pounced on the formerly morose man amidst wails of protest and pleas for mercy.
Such wails and pleas went unheard.
“ ‘Sing as the spirits move you, sing to your doubling eye, Plain Jane becomes Loveable Linda, when six moons shine in the sky!’ ”
Angel and DeGanon roared drunkenly from their table. There were several empty mugs littering the table and floor, they had spent the rest of the night and most of the day, drinking. Spike had already passed out, his chin propped up on the table.
“ ‘All of the waitresses love you. Every dog is your friend, whatever you say is just what you mean, so hoist three sheets to the wind!’ ”
They finished the song and, slamming their mugs together, spilling much wine in the process, they greedily and noisily guzzled down their contents before casually tossing the drained mugs behind their shoulders. They looked at each other and immediately broke out into a hysterical fit of giggling. Angel suddenly hiccupped and belched, which caused them to laugh even louder. DeGanon refilled Angel’s and his own mug with wine.
"I tell you,” DeGanon began, “it’s good to see a dead man enjoy his liquor.”
Angel snorted.
“You should have seen me during my breathing days.” He stood up a little unsteadily and jutted his chest out in pride. “I was the king of Galway as far as drinking and wenching went!” he declared before tumbling back into his chair, laughing.
DeGanon laughed, shaking his head.
“I believe it my boy, as God as my witness, I do,” he chuckled and crossed himself, before leveling an inquisitive look to the inebriated vampire. “But there’s something I need to know.”
Angel looked up from draining his mug.
“Aye?” he replied, his voice unconsciously slipping back into his original Irish accent from his breathing days.
“The woman, Buffy, do you still have feelings for the girl?” he asked.
Angel sputtered and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, casting worried looks to the slumbering Spike. DeGanon followed his gaze and smiled.
“No worrying about that one, he’s sleeping like he was in his mother’s arms,” DeGanon grinned and gestured to the wine. “Gypsy spirits - the devil's own blood!”
Angel snorted. “I doubt that,” he replied.
DeGanon chuckled.
“Back to my question, lad. Do you still have feelings for the Slayer?”
Angel swallowed another draught of wine and considered.
“It’s odd, I feel as if the best thing I could do for her is to stay as far away from her as possible. And, yet…” He shook his head. “Life keeps throwing us together in these situations.” Angel frowned before bursting into another fit of hysterical laughter. “And God help me, I still love her!” he cried, throwing his mug away from him in anger and sinking his head into his hands.
DeGanon regarded the vampire calmly and gently placed a weathered hand on his shoulder.
“Lad, you need to tell her,” DeGanon told him.
Angel shook his head, not raising his head from his palms.
“I can’t do that, DeGanon. She’s moved on with her life,” he replied forlornly.
DeGanon nodded. “Aye, she has,” he gently propped the vampire up to look him in the eyes, “but that doesn’t mean you can’t be a part of that new life,” he said softly.
Angel’s brown eyes flashed.
“That’s exactly what it means. Buffy is going to age and die and I’ll always be the same. She’s alive and I’m not,” he finished bitterly.
DeGanon smiled indulgently.
“Yes, that’s true. She’s mortal, and you, at the moment, aren’t. And, divine intervention aside, that’s probably not going to change anytime soon.” He gestured to Spike. “But look at this poor creature. Moaning on and on about his Drusilla,” he leveled a gently admonishing glace at Angel. “They were both immortal, they were both vampires, neither of them we’re going to age. And where are they now?” he asked.
Angel jus shook his head. DeGanon continued.
“The point, lad, is that it doesn’t matter what you are, as long as who you are stays true.” He gestured at Spike. “You think he gives a damn whether or not Buffy is going to age or not? This man doesn’t look any further ahead than his next bottle or brawl. And while that point of view certainly has its drawbacks, it does have one major advantage.”
Angel scoffed bitterly. “Yeah? And what’s that?” he asked derisively.
“Courage, lad,” the gypsy replied. “Sheer balls. It takes a lot of guts to say ‘to blazes with the future, carpe diem!’, you know?”
Angel shook his head, not quite getting it. DeGanon sighed and rephrased.
“You broke things off with Buffy, because you were afraid that you couldn’t provide the kind of life for her she needed, right?” he asked gently. Angel nodded. “Well there you are, that was your mistake,” DeGanon informed him grinning.
Angel frowned.
“What was? Wanting her to have the right kind of life?” he asked puzzled.
“No, you great idiot,” DeGanon replied. “Being afraid. You were afraid that you couldn’t do it. That what you would eventually overshadow the feelings you had for each other, and that’s a mistake.” DeGanon shook his head, gently admonishing. “Fear and love have no place together. When you love, you have to trust, lad, you have to trust that somehow, there’s a plan. Call it God, fate, destiny, or just plain old-fashioned magic of love. True love, real love, always finds a way to work itself out.” He smiled slightly. “It may take a couple of centuries to get all straightened out, but that’s usually because people can’t help monkeying around with the divine plan,” DeGanon finished grinning.
Angel was still frowning,
“So, what you’re saying is I should just go for it and trust God to make it all right?” he asked disbelievingly.
DeGanon shook his head.
“No, lad, I’m telling you that you should love and rid yourself of fear, and then you’ll see some miracles,” DeGanon replied solemnly.
Angel’s brow furrowed, lost in thought. Suddenly, DeGanon’s face broke into a broad grin and he poured out more wine.
“But come now, lad, let us drink our libation!” he declared loudly.
Angel nodded and raised his glass to mirror DeGanon’s raised mug,
“Here’s to love, to life, to music, and women, and sex, and wine, and magic! Hallelujah, AMEN!” he cried, slamming his mug into Angel’s loudly.
Suddenly Spike’s head jerked up from the table.
“Damn right!” he slurred, throwing his fist into the air.
He smiled at both of them drunkenly before his eyes rolled back into his head and he slammed face first into the table, hard. There was a groan and Spike rolled off his chair to collapse into a heap on the floor.
“Oh, bloody hell,” he moaned softly before passing out.
Angel looked down at the unconscious vampire and began to roar with laughter, leaning far back in his chair.
DeGanon piped up.
“Angel, lad, mind the…”
With a squawk of surprise, and pin wheeling arms, Angel toppled backwards over his chair to be deposited on the floor. There were a few moments of silence, then Angel began to snore blissfully.
“…chair,” the gypsy lord finished wryly.
Chuckling, he sipped from his mug thoughtfully, before getting up from his chair, steady as a rock. He regarded the comatose pair of vampires with a grin.
“Never let it be said that DeGanon Tepes couldn’t out drink any man, living or dead.”
With a mock toast to the pair, he quietly left the room.
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