Love Is Forever . . . Isn't It?: Part Nine
by Bria
All characters that have appeared on the show belong to its creator. All others and the plot belong to me.



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Part Nine

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In the dim light Buffy retrieved her brush from the night table, and, taking a seat on the floor in front of the fireplace, began to carefully brush out all the tangles in her hair. She was dressed in a long T-shirt only, all her makeup removed. It was early morning for the rest of the world, but for the vampires, night had just begun.

Gazing into the flickering flames in front of her, Buffy contentedly thought of the party and how well it had gone. She had met many people, some friendly and interesting, some annoying and too interested. She had managed to keep Angel a safe distance from Andria without being obvious and she had enjoyed the company of the others, listening to their many stories and answering some questions they had about her and her life. All in all, the evening had been a success.

Buffy sensed more than heard the door swing open and she glanced over her shoulder. Seeing Angel there in his usual black pants and sweater, she smiled at him, not one of the brilliant, adoring ones she showered on him at the party, but a more comfortable, warmer one that said 'I am really and truly glad just to be in the same room as you.'

Angel crossed the room and sunk down behind her on the floor, wrapping an arm around her stomach and tugged her half way onto his lap. He kissed her cheek, then asked, "Is there any reason you're sitting on the floor rather than any of the seats?"

Buffy leaned back into his chest and grinned, "Of course there is silly. You're just too big for me to fit into one of the chairs with you!"

Angel grinned from behind, brushing aside some of her hair that got in his face. Sighing in vexation, as it was a total mess and getting in his mouth whenever he spoke, Angel took the brush out of Buffy's hand and gently began to brush her hair with light, even strokes. "Did you have a nice time at the party?"

"Wonderful time," Buffy answered, enjoying the sensation of Angel's fingers perusing her hair. She said, "You know, six years ago, I never imagined I'd be sitting in front of a fire, in England, with my 246 year old souled vampire boyfriend brushing my hair. Life sure throws some curveballs, huh?"

Angel nodded, "You get used to expecting the unexpected after a while. Just takes some getting used to."

Buffy smiled and leaned back so she was looking up into Angel's face. With a grin, she commented, "I could get used to this."

Dropping the brush on the carpet, Angel kissed her lightly, and Buffy let herself fall back, positioning her body so she lay across his lap. Pulling his head down, she kissed him assertively, and when she let him back up, Angel grinned down at her and replied, "I could get very used to this."

A cold front had arrived in town a day ago, temporarily banishing the summer heat and for once, no dreary weather accompanied the cool winds. Only a few, feathery gray clouds hid some of the stars from sight as Angel slowly patrolled the creek.

A gathering place for young people seeking fun, the creek was unofficially referred to as "Make-out Central" by all those under twenty-five. As it was very secluded, which suited the regulars just fine, it was a sort of favorite feeding ground for vampires. Angel often made his hunting rounds near this area and others like it. Tonight, though, he wished Buffy were at his side, instead of out helping Jeanette with something. Glancing up at a sudden, playful yelp from a hormonal teenager, Angel was certain he and Buffy could have found something to do together.

Over the past week and a half, he and Buffy had become increasingly closer. They could talk for hours on end, or sometimes they would do other. . . stuff. He watched her very carefully, and Angel knew that Buffy was enjoying her stay with the Family for the most part. She had become fast friends with Jeanette, and Lily was her newfound shopping partner. Both of them had taken the younger vampire under their wings, having immediately taken a liking to her. While Angel knew it was unlikely anyone would give Buffy trouble knowing she was with him, it was absolutely ludicrous to think that anyone would be stupid enough to go up against both Jeanette and Lily, so Buffy had no trouble fitting in.

Still, Angel had noticed something strange in the workings of the Family's social structure. Andria, after the visit with Phillip, whom Buffy had liked very much, seemed to avoid Buffy as much as she could, though she would often seek Angel out alone. Whenever Andria walked into the room, Buffy would shower her with sweetness and compliments, and if Angel hadn't known any better, he would have sworn that Andria was her life long best friend. But his memories of Buffy had been reawakened during their time together and he began to notice little things that changed whenever she was around the Italian. Her muscles would tighten ever so slightly, her eyes burned brighter; her very way of standing was different. Head up, chin raised, feet planted firmly and her voice was just a little too sweet for him to believe. Angel just couldn't think of any reason why Buffy, of all people, would tense up around Andria. It didn't make any sense.

Angel's step faltered as he sensed something behind him. He whirled, hands up in an attack position, but there was no one there. The clearing was bathed in moonlight and the night was un-naturally silent. He was alone.

But something tickled at the back of his brain, and he sensed something he hadn't felt for decades. Turning his head slightly, she came into view, and Angel felt his non-existent heart beat stop.

She was a thin wrath, looking as if she were made out of wisps of air and feeble light. Her long black hair fell loose around her shoulders and over her white dress, framing a face that was very beautiful, yet incredibly disturbing. The eyes that glowed in her pale skin were bright with madness as they focused on the man before her.

Angel froze, horrified thoughts flashing through his mind, but only a single word came out of his mouth. "Dru."

Drusilla smiled slightly, an innocent expression that seemed all wrong for her face. When she was human, it would have been beautiful, but now any beauty it had was robbed by her demon and her madness. Drifting slightly closer, she answered him, "Why, my Angel. What a lovely surprise. We're all together again."

Angel frowned, confused. He instinctively followed her movements, ready to catch her if she fell, she looked so weak. "We?"

"That's right, old chap." Angel turned towards the new voice. A male vampire separated himself from the shadows, his duster blending into the night, but his platinum blond hair contrasted with the effect. Spike, formerly known as William the Bloody, smiled chillingly at the older vampire, "Hello, Angelus. It's been a while, hasn't it?"

Angel nodded, turning to keep the vampiric couple in his line of vision, "A couple of lifetimes I think."

Spike nodded, approaching Drusilla. "At least. Can't say I missed you much, we never were too fond of each other, were we?" He circled her waist, pulling her against him.

Angel shook his head, "No, you hated me."

"The feeling was mutual, I'm sure."

Drusilla moved away from Spike, staring at Angel with a wide-eyed gaze. As she came near him, Angel became still as stone, watching her approach. She looked like she was floating in the wind, and she extended one frail hand toward him. Angel stared at it, but made no move to take it. Her hand remained up, and when she was near enough, it trailed lightly over his shoulders as she circled around him, her skirts brushing against his coat. Spike watched them carefully, ready to attack should Angel make a move towards his dark Princess.

Dru's hand came to rest lightly over Angel's heart, and all of a sudden she giggled. Her laugh was child-like and tinkled like glass. "What is it, ducks? What're you laughing at?" Spike asked curiously.

She continued to stare at her hand resting on his chest as she said, "It screams of her." Angel's eyes flinched as if she had struck him.

"What does?" Spike asked patiently, used to her broken sentences and scrambled logic. He was the only one that could understand her mumblings, and he loved her all the more for it.

"His heart," she replied, taking her eyes off her fingers and glanced up into Angel's face. She smiled, and took a step back, looking over her shoulder at Spike. "Our Angel's in love."

"You're joking!" Spike cried, amusement ringing loud and clear in his voice. He walked closer, his hands resting in his pockets. "With who? Can you see her ducks?"

Dru nodded, her head tilted to one side, eyes half-closed. "The moon is whispering to me. It sees her right now, all pretty like," she said, her own voice a light whisper.

Spike lowered his voice, playing along with the game. "Will the moon tell you who she is? Does it whisper her name?"

"No," Drusilla's eyes opened and she watched Angel with a slight, crazy smile stretched across her lips. "But I can see her right now. She's beautiful, looks like the sun, she does."

"What do you mean, baby? Tell me what she looks like." Spike glanced over at Angel, who was standing still, watching the figures from his past with caution. Spike moved closer to Dru, so he was standing right next to her. "Tell Daddy what you see inside your pretty head," he breathed into her ear, kissing it.

Dru glanced up at him, her mouth drifting close to his. Suddenly she pulled back, half-walking, half-skipping in a large circle around the two men. "She's young, and very small. Like a doll, like my Miss Edith." Dru stopped at the thought of her doll, "Miss Edith was bad today, she wouldn't talk to her mummy. I had to punish her. . ."

"I know, luv, I was there, remember?" Spike said impatiently. "What about the girl?"

Dru grinned as he reminded her of her vision and swayed on her feet, her arms extended, as if she were dancing. "She's got hair the color of gold, so soft. And her eyes are as blue as a summer's sky. I miss that blue, don't you Angel?" She asked suddenly, staring at him. He didn't answer and Dru didn't pursue it. "So young, so old. She's very fragile, but she could destroy us. But she won't. Not now."

Spike nodded at her, "Well, then, we won't have to hurt her now, will we?" Angel moved for the first time, a deep, threatening growl low in his throat. Spike's head came up sharply, but they didn't attack each other. Neither truly wanted to fight, it would gain them nothing.

Drusilla's swaying suddenly stopped, and she stared around for a moment as if she had just woken from a dream and wasn't sure were she was. Slowly she spoke again, her moon-touched gaze shifting from Angel to Spike and back again. "We won't have to hurt her. Angel's going to do that, all on his own."

Angel stared at her, certain that she was crazier than she appeared. "I would never hurt her."

"Oh, but you will," Drusilla breathed lightly, rolling her head back. She extended her hand to Spike and he quickly came over and took it, supporting her weight. Drusilla suddenly looked tired, as if all the excitement had drained her. Still, she held Angel's gaze, finishing her lunatic prophecy. "Tragic lil' thing, she's got no protection against you. You're under her skin, in her heart. . . But you'll break her heart," Dru smiled, "Just like you broke mine."

Angel didn't move, not knowing how to respond to this pathetic, demonic vision in front of him. Any other vampire he would have had no trouble with destroying, but Dru. . . He'd hurt her so much; his soul cringed at the idea of causing her any more pain. He didn't have the right.

Spike looked at Dru carefully, concern and adoration shining in his eyes. "Come on, luv, you've tired yourself out, just like I said you would. You know you're not as strong anymore."

Drusilla held her head in her hands, a slight moan escaping her lips and the two men's hearts broke, but for different reasons. She leaned against Spike, her head on his shoulder, and he wrapped her in his arms. "Spike," she whispered hoarsely, no longer having the energy to talk.

"I'm here, baby, I'll take care of you."

"I want. . . The moon is. . ." She muttered incoherently, her mind drifting, unable to focus. She lifted her head, which swayed slightly as if she didn't have the strength to hold it up for long. Finally, she got a sentence out. "Miss Edith, I need to see Miss Edith. She still needs her tea and biscuits, I forgot to give her her tea and biscuits. I'm such a bad mummy."

"No, no, you're not, darling," Spike said hurriedly, "You're a wonderful mum."

"I am?" She asked, her lips barely moving.

"Course you are," Spike replied, kissing her forehead. Gently he steered her out of the clearing. Glancing over his shoulder, he said, "Sorry to prophesize and run, Angel, but we've got places to go, people to kill. You know how it is. Say hi to your girl for us. I'm sure we'll be meeting her." Together, the vampires disappeared into the night of which they were born, leaving Angel badly shaken from the vision from the past. And the prophecy of the future.


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