We Happy Few: A Promise of Things to Come
by Sibling
Cordelia now had positive proof that the Powers That Be had a sense of humor -- a totally evil sense of humor. Here she was, furiously suppressing any romantic feelings she might have towards Angel, and trying to redirect all those impulses to Groo for almost a month. Now they tell her she has it all backwards, that it was Angel she was meant to be with . . . and he comes right out and says he loves her too . . . just as Groo shows up.

She suddenly realized how Xander must've felt on that night at the factory three years ago, when she and Oz had walked in on him and Willow. She still thought that his cheating on her was a crummy thing to do . . . but she'd already come to understand that sometimes people just ended up doing crummy things, whether they wanted to or not.

Maybe when this is all over, I should get him a wedding present. A real present. Something nice, not just a little doodad that I can find in some junk shop. She sighed. First things first. Whatever else I've done, I'm not gonna go behind Groo's back. He doesn't deserve that.

She took a few deep breaths, and slowly got to her feet. To her surprise, her injured hand didn't hurt when she forgot and leaned on it. Pulling aside the bandage Willow had applied, she saw that the wound was closed and almost completely healed, a thin red line the only evidence she'd been wounded.

She couldn't help smiling. Oh, wow, this is way better than horns and a tail!

She stood up . . . and came face to face with Buffy. And all of her calm suddenly blew away like dead leaves.

Just what are you supposed to say to your newly-found soulmate's ex? Especially when she thought she was your soulmate's soulmate for years? Great, now her thoughts were starting to sound like Willow-babble!

To her amazement, Buffy broke the awkward silence with a sincere, "Congratulations, Cordy. I hope you'll be happy." Then a wry grin appeared on the blonde's face. "And good luck. You're gonna need it, with this lunk," she said, jerking her head towards Angel, who did a double-take at her comment. "Falling in love with him is really easy. But being in love with him is a full-time job. He's sort of a high-maintenance guy."

Despite her previous anxiety, Cordelia found herself grinning back. "You're telling me?! I've been his assistant, secretary, seer, and chief hand-holder for the past three years, Buffy. I know him. He's, like, highest-maintenance guy. The Ferrari of guys." And just like that, the two girls were giggling and smiling, both of them amazed that they had adjusted so easily to a situation that easily could have had them hissing and spitting at each other like a pair of alley cats.

Angel gave them both a dirty look, but didn't say anything. The rumbling from his stomach, however, was audible even through Buffy and Cordelia's laughter.

Cordelia managed to roll her eyes at the sound. Angel even has to be Drama-boy over getting hungry. Highest-maintenance, just like I said.

Buffy's expression became somewhat concerned, though there was still an amused twinkle in her eyes. "Wow. What do you feed a guy who hasn't eaten for 250 years?"

"Tacos?" Fred suggested brightly. "I mean, you haven't lived till you've had a good taco, or three, at least I've always said that, and now that Angel's living again-"

"Hold it, Fred," Cordelia interrupted. "I know you're Miss I-Live-for-Tex-Mex, but I don't think Angel's ready for all that spicy stuff. One taco, and he'll have a stomach ache that'll make him wish he was dead . . . again."

"How about Hannah's?" asked Willow, referring to the local deli, which Cordelia remembered fondly. "They're only a couple blocks away, and they make the best chicken soup ever -- even better than my Grandma Rosenberg's, and that's saying something."

* * *

Since it was past one-thirty anyway, a conversation that had begun with a miracle quickly degenerated into: "Where are you going for lunch?", "Can I go with you?", "I gotta see this!", etc. as most of the group drifted out of the training room to greet the Pyleans.

One group, consisting of Angel, Faith, Dawn, and Willow, declared their intentions to go to Hannah's, for a mix of salads, soups, and sandwiches. Of course, Faith was far more interested in witnessing Angel's first human meal than in the food itself. And Willow, while fond of the chicken soup, also saw it as a way to get some closure for the first spell she'd ever cast. Dawn wanted to talk some more to Faith . . . and also thought someone should be there to provide a buffer between Faith and Willow. Lorne ended up joining them as well, intrigued both by his friend's new-found humanity and the thought of getting a good look at the Neverborn Slayer, the Guardian of the Balance, and the only living witch to have performed a true resurrection. (He was just as interested in the object of that resurrection, of course, but Buffy was in no mood to be "anagoggled at," as she put it.)

Another group -- Xander, Anya, Fred, and Gunn -- went off in search of the perfect taco, which Xander insisted could be found at Chez Lopez, a Mexican place about five blocks away. Gunn challenged Xander to a taco-eating contest, which would eventually leave both men groaning and holding their bellies, and Fred and Anya commiserating over the idiocy of men. (Although Anya's stories on the subject left Fred believing Xander must have been the bravest man on Earth to marry her.)

Giles and Rachel insisted on working through lunch, though Dawn and Willow insisted that they would bring the two avid researchers something from the deli. Faith also left the pair a few hints as to where to look in !Kannl's book for what little could be predicted about the current crisis.

Cordelia took Groo aside for a conversation that would prove painful for both of them, and deprive them both of any desire for food for several hours.

Which left Buffy alone in the back of the shop with a very troubled-looking Spike.

* * *

They sat in awkward silence for several minutes after the others had left. Finally, Buffy murmured, "I didn't know it was going to be so soon. Faith told me what I needed to do . . . to prepare him . . . but I didn't realize-"

Spike looked up. "Would it have made a difference, luv? Would you have told Peaches off so . . . forcefully, if you'd known he was gonna get his bloody miracle today?"

Buffy stared at Spike in horror. Oh no, he thinks I still- Then she forced herself to pause. And think. And then she walked over to him, knelt down, took his hands in hers, and made herself speak her thoughts out loud. "Spike, I love you. I am in love with you. Yes, I admit I still feel . . . something for Angel. He will always have a part of me." Her eyes darkened, and she could barely choke out her next words. "Just like Drusilla will always have a part of you." Spike looked up at that, stared at her a moment, then nodded slowly.

She stood up, pulling him up with her. "But this -- my relationship with you -- this is what I want. This is the life that I choose to live. And not just because of some prophecy that says that Angel and Cordy belong together -- although I don't need a prophecy to see that anymore. It's because I know that I belong with you."

Spike shook his head. "It's still not enough, Slayer. The Poof's got everything he ever wanted -- and I wouldn't be surprised if the cheerleader does, too. And I've got all I ever wanted right here," he said, squeezing her hands. "But I saw those tears in your eyes the other night, pet. You may love me . . . but you're bein' forced to give up any chance at a normal life, children, a chance to grow old with someone . . . "

"Spike . . . if I can have those things with you, I'll take them, but I won't give you up for them!"

Spike grit his teeth, and the cords in his neck showed for a moment before he calmed himself. "But you can't have them with me, luv . . . not unless the Powers are havin' a bloody sale on miracles this week." He looked down at his feet, and said quietly, "One day . . . you're gonna wake up believing you settled for second best. And that would kill me."

Buffy sighed inwardly. Someday she was going to get used to this whole soul/shadowself thing. She kept forgetting that Spike -- and not just the Spike under the calming influence of their shared soul -- was insecure, lonely, and desperate for love under all that bluster and leather . . . just like her. She did the same thing, hiding her fear and vulnerability underneath her Slayer-ness.

The soul just allowed Spike to say all the things that he would otherwise have covered up with a sneer and a snarky comment or a "bit o' violence."

A voice from the past whispered in her mind. "Just . . . give me something . . . a crumb . . . a barest smidgen . . . tell me . . . maybe, someday, there's a chance."

Oh, I've got more than a crumb for you this time, Spike. And this time, I'm gonna give it to you.

"Spike . . . Faith didn't just talk to me about Angel." He looked up at her again, blinking in surprise. "None of those prophecies she talked about mention Angel by name. They just say, 'the vampire with a soul,' or 'the demon who fights for the light.' They could apply to you too, Spike . . . especially the second one. Angelus, the demon, never fought for the light -- only Angel." She smiled at his startled reaction, and she continued, "Faith told me a few things about our wedding . . ."

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