The Wolf, the Ram and the Hart: Epilogue
by redmoon
Epilogue

Spike shouted in pain, falling to his knees as the spell tore him from Angel’s body. He collapsed onto the floor, moaning slightly as Angel rubbed his chest absently, massaging away the slight ache.

Willow closed the book. “That should do it.” Spike groaned something unintelligible on the floor. Willow shook her head, “faker.”

Buffy was holding Dawn’s hand tightly, not letting her out of her sight, or grip for that matter. The four had been revived and reunited with their souls as per the spell Angel had cast.

Faith looked past the tightly knit group. Giles, Xander, Andrew and the Slayer’s sister were still looking a little groggy and their expressions told of their now intimate knowledge of death, but they were handling it all quite well, considering.

Faith was just glad it hadn’t been her destiny to get shot in the back of the head. She had gotten a phone call from Angel, the night she had been with a group of slayers, tracking down the tattered remains of the Wolfram & Hart organization as a special favor to the vampire. He had told her exactly what to do. She didn’t question instructions from her pseudo-military superior, especially when they were prophecy oriented. And it all turned out alright in the end, which was all any of them could really have hoped for.

Willow set the book back into its spot on the shelf. She turned to Buffy, trying to keep her voice low, considering the relatively crowded Summers’ living room situation. Her eyes told Buffy of the privacy she desired, and reluctantly the Slayer parted with her sister to speak with her best friend in the kitchen. They stepped over Spike who was still groaning on the floor.

“What’s up?” Buffy asked, as chipper a voice as Willow had ever heard. The emotional and physical roller coaster they had just stepped off of seemed to have changed something deep inside the Slayer, inside the witch too, but in both it was too deep to affect their outward attitude. The exuberance that Buffy felt was too contagious for the rest not to catch it, but somehow Willow remained a little down.

“Do you think,” Willow asked, no trace of her usual endearing uncertainty, “that, maybe, Tara...” she trailed off, leaving the exact question open for interpretation. Her concern was quite evident, however.

Buffy’s eyes fell for an instant and her hand wrapped around Willow’s shoulder. “Hey,” she finally said, “we know now that all of that... in there,” she said soothingly, “was just to get us to where we needed to be; at the right place at the right time.”

“Maybe,” the redhead said, sounding anything but convinced, “I just wish I knew for sure.”

“That’s something very few people have,” the Slayer said quietly, knowing it was something she had, or at least, thought she had. She remembered the weight being lifted from her when her mother had told her where she had been since she died. She had been with Buffy.

“Wherever she is,” Buffy said, absolute certainty in her voice, a quality that was rare, she now realized, “you’re with her.” She looked from the distant spot of consideration to her best friend’s eyes. “And she’s with you.”

Willow nodded. Hand in hand, they stepped back over Spike and joined the victory party.

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