“You’ve got to find her something to do. I can’t…she’s driving me insane.”
Wesley looked up from the stack of papers on his desk, one eyebrow raised in amusement. “Do? What would you have me give her to do? You’re the one that brought her here.”
Angel sighed dramatically running a hand through his hair as he paced. “I know, I know, but I thought…well lets just say I thought it would be different.”
“Ahhh,” Wesley tipped back in his chair. “So it’s the not-so-appreciative behavior of the Slayer that’s doing it then?”
“Yes. No. Maybe. All I know is, every time she tries to kill something, it turns out to be a client, and I’ve got to be the one to tell her no. Or, she does kill something, and I’ve got to be the one to tell her that we don’t kill things anymore, just issue court orders.”
Angel frowned at Wesley who was trying to contain his amusement. “This isn’t funny Wes, I can’t take it anymore.”
“Why don’t you send her on a mission, across the country, out of the country? Let her spread her wings a bit.”
Angel plopped down in one of the chairs in front of Wesley’s desk. “Do you think that would work?” He shook his head, answering his own question. “No, she won’t go. Damnit Wes, it wouldn’t be so bad if she weren’t so angry and well…”
“Depressed?”
Angel shifted in his seat. “No, she’s not depressed, she’s just¬¬-“
“Depressed?”
“Alright, fine, she’s depressed. Are you happy?”
“Well, if you are admitting she’s torturing herself because she misses-“
“Don’t say it,” Angel growled.
“Alright, I’ll see what I dig up Angel, but I’m not making any promises.”
Lurching to his feet Angel started toward the door. “Do it fast Wes, I have a feeling after the Wolfram & Hart Halloween party tonight I’m going to have a lot of cleaning up to do, and it’ll be much easier if I don’t have to deal with Buffy at the same time.”
***
“No way; there is no way I’m going Willow.” Buffy crossed her arms and glared at Willow who was holding up a dress in front of her.
“Come on Buffy, we got this pretty dress and everything. Look, sparkles!” Willow pointed to the front of the black lace dress. “You can’t not go!”
“I’ve got to patrol.”
Turning, Willow hung the dress on the back of a chair. “It’s Halloween Buffy, you don’t patrol on Halloween remember?”
“And, I remember, the last time someone saying that, Dawn went out necking with a vampire!”
“That had nothing to do with Halloween.”
“Well I don’t care.” Buffy stood up and turned toward the window and looked down at the darkened street below. “Demons in Halloween costumes, disco balls, not really my thing.”
Stomping her foot Willow picked the gown back up and walked over to Buffy thrusting into her arms. “If you don’t go, then, well I’ll tell Dawn.”
Buffy rolled her eyes. “Ooh, I’m so scared.”
“No, no I won’t tell Dawn, I’ll GO GET Dawn.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“I will.”
“Nice try Wil, but she’s in England with Giles remember? Doing the school thing. Even if you did go get her, you wouldn’t be back by the time the Halloween party started.”
“Wanna try me? I’m an all-powerful white witch now; you don’t know the extent of my goddess like powers. I’ll have her here because you can get in the elevator.”
Walking toward the door Willow threw a look back over her shoulder at Buffy. “You’ve got an hour, and don’t try to run away, you know I’ll track you down.”
Buffy clutched the dress to her chest, and sank down on the edge of the bed. She knew what they were doing, all of them. Sending Dawn to England, making her the official Slayer consultant of Wolfram & Hart, making her wear stupid dresses, to stupid parties. They wanted to distract her, keep her motivated, give her space.
She had thought she would have adjusted by now, but Slaying in LA just wasn’t the same. She always seemed to be killing the wrong demon, and the fight just wasn’t the same anymore. The first time she’d stepped into Woodbridge Cemetery, the upscale field of bones near Wolfram & Hart, she’d almost turned away. She’d been alone, utterly alone. She couldn’t feel his presence beside her, or even trying to hide himself behind a crypt. There was no one watching her back, she was, finally what she’d always thought she was, alone in the fight.
She’d dusted five vamps that night, and for the first time since the battle on the Hellmouth, she’d cried. Collapsed in a heap on the grave of Gillian Fredericks, she’d cried every last tear out of her system. She’d gotten up though, and gone back to W&H, and hadn’t cried again. She told them all she was fine, she’d moved on, made her peace, but she still wasn’t so sure.
She was alive, and she’d let him burn, and it was killing her.
***
“Do you ever open any of this mail Angel?”
Angel whipped around. “Yes Fred, every morning I sit down with my shiny letter opener, and I read each syllable. And then, I go out to every office and take attendance.”
“Geez, what’s with the bad mood?”
“Don’t even ask.”
Fred smiled brightly and picked up a manila envelope from the desk. “You never know what could be all wrapped up in here, I’m just going to open this one…” She began tearing at the envelope, and Angel circled his desk grabbing the package from her hands.
“Don’t you have a party to go to Fred?”
“You mean the same one you’re supposed to be at?”
“Angelkins!” The giant green demon burst through the office door. “Where have you been? The Arch Duke is out there waiting,” Lorne wrung his hands anxiously. “Time to come rub elbows, or bump foreheads, or whatever you wacky kids do these days!”
“Lorne,”
“No buts sweet cheeks, you’ve got some butt kissing to do!”
Angel fumbled the package in his hands. “Well, geez Lorne I would,” he ripped open the envelope, “but you see, I just got this urgent package that I have to deal with-“
Angel tipped the envelope upside down, and the sparkling amulet landed with a clang on the floor. Angel stared, and the seeds of dread began to seep into his system as the amulet began to glow.
“That’s a pretty snazzy jewel there Angel, but really-“
The amulet flashed brightly, and a cloud rose up from the jewel. The tornado cloud swirled upwards, and came together to form a man. A scream of pain tore through the office, and then there was silence.
“Spike.” Angel sighed tiredly.
“Spike?” Fred asked, her eyes becoming round.
“Oh boy,” Lorne stated shocked, “This is going to be one heck of a shindig folks.”
“Bugger. I must be in hell.”
“No, LA, but people make that mistake all the time.”
Spike lifted his eyes, and met Angel’s. He let out a soft growl. “What the BLEEDIN’ HELL IS GOING ON?”
A/N: Next one's the last one :D THIS is the dress Buffy'll be wearing, just in case you were curious.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Almost to the end folks. Sorry for the delay, life got in the way. I was going to end it with this chapter, but I figured I'd do another after this, and give you a bit of warning!