The others had noticed when Giles, Faith, and Buffy didn't follow them into the training room, and when Spike saw how red- and teary-eyed Buffy was when she finally came in, he assumed the worst. He stopped short of running over to her, though, when Faith followed Buffy in, looking just as cried-out. Giles followed close behind them, not tearful like the girls, but still looking pale and shaken.
Faith glanced at Buffy, and made some kind of gesture towards Angel. who was, as Faith had predicted, pounding away his frustration and anger on the punching bag. Then the dark-haired ex-Slayer turned away, and walked up to Willow.
Buffy hesitated for a moment, then glanced at Spike, and beckoned him.
Ah, so that's how it is. We're finally gonna have "The Talk" with the Poof. 'Bout time she got around to it; how long did she think we could keep us a secret? But why the hell now? 'Tain't right, kickin' Peaches when he's down like this. He smirked a little. Oughta wait till he gets back on his feet, then kick him in his fat arse!
That isn't quite what he whispered to Buffy when he went over to her, but he did ask if she knew what she was doing with the timing of this confrontation.
"Faith says he probably already knows. And that . . . " She took a deep breath, and glanced sorrowfully at the dark-haired vampire whom she'd once thought was the love of her life. "I have to break my last ties with him, so that he'll be ready to accept what's coming."
"What's coming, luv?" he asked softly. No matter how much he disliked the Poof, he knew that if anything happened to him, it would still upset Buffy.
Her answer made no sense, though. "His life." Then she straightened her back, and strode across the room. Spike stared after her a moment, puzzled, before hurrying after her. This was going to be hard on her, and he didn't want her to have to face it alone.
* * *
Buffy was more than a little dazed as she approached Angel. The things Faith had told her . . . It was crazy. This was going to hurt Angel so much.
But her onetime partner in "The Chosen Two" had convinced her of it. That this was the way it had to be. That Angel had a chance for love, and happiness . . . but not with Buffy. And so Buffy had to break his heart a little more, so that the one he was really meant to be with could help him put it back together.
And to think I used to get so mad when she kept trying to get between us.
She walked up to him, and said the five hardest words she'd ever spoken in her life: "Angel, we need to talk."
* * *
"How can you love him? He's just a thing! A demon!"
"A thing wouldn't have endured hours of torture by a Hellgod to keep my sister safe! A thing wouldn't have stayed with my sister and my friends even after I was gone! A thing wouldn't have promised me that he would never leave me, and make me believe it! A thing wouldn't . . . couldn't make me feel loved the way he does."
"He doesn't have a soul, Buffy!"
"Yes he does!"
Long pause. "What?"
"I . . . I'm his soul."
* * *
Angel looked from Buffy to Spike and back again. They said that the eyes were the windows to the soul. Buffy's hazel and Spike's blue didn't look much alike, but it was as if the same fire burned behind them.
William. The product of middle-class Victorian London society. Parents who raised him but kept him at arm's length, leaving him always craving love but never receiving it. The Bloody Awful Poet who had bared his heart to a woman, only to have it scorned and spat upon. Turned by Drusilla, and his soul banished to the Ether between worlds, to be reborn a century later as . . .
Buffy. Modern California girl. The same vulnerable heart, and the same neglectful father, but with one gloriously loving, giving, comforting mother. The same spirit, fused with the essence of the Slayer to provide an outlet for all the rage and pain it had previously suppressed.
The same rage and pain that had shaped the demon called Spike.
And when a botched resurrection spell somehow bonded the soul and the demon together . . . they could heal one other. Not suppressing their pain, but soothing it. Providing comfort for each other because they knew each other's hearts as no one else could. Knowing that the other would never leave because they weren't the leavers -- they were the left.
Angel wanted to scream, to howl out his own pain and rage . . . but he couldn't deny the truth.
Buffy belonged with Spike. She and Angel had been opposites that attracted, but they were opposites that could never properly fit together. She had forgiven the evil he had done as Angelus, but she couldn't forgive the hurt he'd caused her by leaving her, by taking away from her the choice of whether or not to be with him.
Spike would never leave her. Even Angel knew that. He had stayed by Drusilla's side for nearly 120 years, because she was the only woman who had ever shown any feeling for him. If Buffy really loved him, he'd never abandon her, never let her get hurt unless he was dust first.
And then he felt them behind him.
On his right, Cordelia. His Seer, his not-quite-sister, his closest friend . . . his almost-but-never-to-be lover. He knew he could always count on her to be there for him.
On his left, Faith. The girl who had hurt those he cared for so much. Who had come to him seeking death, only to find the beginning of the road to redemption. Who claimed he had saved her from the fires of Hell.
He had lost so many things in the past few days . . . but he knew he wasn't alone.
Still, he reached out for them, seeking the comfort of actual physical contact.
His right hand found Cordelia, but his left hand found only empty air, as Faith suddenly moved.
He heard gasps and cries around him, and he thought he heard Faith murmur, "Down payment for what I owe you."
Then he felt his right hand torn from Cordelia's, a slash of pain across his palm, and the warmth of Cordelia's hand again -- wet?
White light flashed before his eyes, and he fell to his knees.
And then his heart started beating, and he heaved in a long, painful breath.
* * *
Buffy stood frozen as she watched Angel take his first breath in over 200 years. Faith had told her this would happen, but . . . she glanced over at the brunette.
Faith was gasping as loudly as Angel, and still holding the small knife she'd used to cut Angel and Cordelia's palms. She saw Buffy looking at her, and her lip quivered. "I couldn't do it. I know I should've waited to explain, but I just couldn't bear it anymore. I hope I haven't screwed everything up, but . . . "
Buffy pulled Faith into a fierce hug. "Thank you. It was breaking my heart too, knowing I'd hurt him like that. Now he has something to live for." She giggled as she realized what she'd said. "Really live for."
As the former enemies pulled apart, they realized that the few people who weren't gaping at Angel were gaping at the two of them.
"I guess I've got some 'splainin' to do," muttered Faith.
"Well, duh!" growled Cordelia from the floor by Angel's side. "And can someone get some bandages for my freakin' hand?"
As Willow grabbed a first-aid kit and began bandaging Cordelia's and Angel's hands, Faith began talking.
"Right now, we're pretty much in the dark as far as the future goes. The Powers have given me a basic idea of what to expect, but not even they know exactly what's going to happen in the battle that's coming up. The best I can do is try to force a few prophecies to come true, and hope that things come out as they're supposed to.
"One of the prophecies was that the vampire with a soul would receive 'Shanshu.' A certain someone," Faith said with a roll of her eyes at Angel, "told Angel it meant he would get 'life until death.' In other words, he would become human again."
Buffy felt another chill. Angel had known he would become human one day, and he'd never told her?
Faith continued, "And there was another prophecy, which I believe Giles encountered a few years ago. About love, life, and blood?"
Giles blinked at her, then recited absently,
"The demon who fights for the light yet hides from it,
Shall know no peace nor happiness till he finds
The one who will give up her humanity for him.
Her blood shall be his life; her love his salvation."
Giles began cleaning his glasses. "When you poisoned Angel and Buffy cured him with her blood, I was sure the prophecy referred to Angel and Buffy -- until Angel left, and Buffy ended up with Riley and then -" His lip curled slightly. "- Spike."
Cordelia and Angel were staring at each other.
"You said you became part demon to keep the visions from killing you," Angel said quietly.
Cordelia looked down at the floor. "I was given a chance to see what my life would be like without the visions. I was rich, famous, successful -- I had everything I went to L.A. to find. But it was all empty; there was something important missing from my life. And in that world, you had the visions instead of me and . . . Angel, they drove you mad," she finished in a half-whisper. Her face lifted, and there were tears in her eyes. "I couldn't let that happen to you, so I took them back, even before I knew the Powers could demonize me."
She took a deep breath. "That night, after the wackiness at the ballet, you were giving me that whole 'we-can-still-be-friends' speech."
"No I wasn't." Angel paused, and gulped a little. "I was giving you an 'I'm-in-love-with-you-but-I'm-afraid-to-say-it' speech."
"Oh."
Even with her advance warning, Buffy was gaping openly at them. Faith's eyes were sparkling. Dawn was making gagging noises -- quietly, after being elbowed by Buffy. Xander's and Willow's jaws were about to hit the floor. Gunn was shaking his head and smiling. Fred was grinning widely and even bouncing a little; Buffy thought she heard her say something like, "Kye-rumption."
And then everyone could hear the bell on the front door ring, followed by a melodious tenor voice. "Hellooo-ooo!? Cordy, Angelcakes, anybody?"
It was followed by a slightly deeper voice. "Princess? Where are you?"
Cordelia's shoulders slumped as she murmured, "Groo."
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