All characters that appear on Buffy belong to Joss Whedon, all others and the plot, to me. All feedback is welcome. The song belongs to Bille Myers
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Part Eight
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Buffy shaded her eyes against the bright sunlight. Her sunglasses weren't quite strong enough to deal with the power of the rays, which bounced off her hair and made it shine like gold. Glancing left and right, she quickly ran across the busy street of downtown, narrowly missing being hit by a speeding convertible. The two young men in the car shouted brash, insinuating remarks and Buffy showed her feelings with an eloquent finger. Jerks.
But as soon as she was two steps down the sidewalk, she forgot all about them. The day was too great to worry about people like that. She couldn't stop the smile that stretched across her face from ear to ear, nor could she edit the extra bounce in her step. She couldn't remember being this happy since she was alive in LA, before she became a Slayer. She was in a beautiful city, back together with Angel, whom she was certain she was totally reconciled with after last night's episode on the bed and she had a well deserved rest from slaying demons and other thingies that go bump in the night. Life was good.
She was also excited about the upcoming party later that night. Her feelings toward the special event were mixed and confused. A part of her was ecstatic to meet new people, people like her, and to spend some time with Angel, but another part of her was nervous, about what, she wasn't really sure. She just wasn't used to hanging out with vampires. So far, so good, but then, she'd only met a few of them up until now, and they hadn't spent much time together. After her nap with Angel, she'd unpacked and eaten some blood that was stored in a tiny fridge in the bathroom. Of course, none of the others were up right now, since it was day, but she needed to get something to wear to the party.
Glancing up, her arms heavy from toting shopping bags full of things for the people back home, Buffy noticed a beautiful dress in the window of a boutique. She immediately made a beeline for the door and two minutes later the dress was off the rack, ready for her to try on. Once she got into it, Buffy fell in love with it. The material was smooth and soft as it rested against her bare skin. Glancing at her pale reflection in the mirror in her dressing room, she had to admit that it made her look good too. The color contrasted perfectly with her blond hair, pale skin and blue eyes, and the flow of the fabric highlighted her curves in all the right places. She flashed herself a brilliant smile and laughed to the reflection. "Angel is going to freak."
Shedding the dress and donning her tank top and white shorts, Buffy paid for the dress with her credit card, then entered back into the stream of bustling shoppers outside. Her new mission, should she choose to accept it: the perfect pair of shoes.
* * *
As the clock struck nine, the party officially began. It was a beautiful night, the sky clear and the moon shining brightly. The barest breeze ruffled through the trees, offering some relief from the heat of summer. Behind the house, along the perimeter of the large piece of property owned by the Family, lanterns were strung along a wire above the heads of the vampiric crowd below. Tables covered with white linen were set up around the lawn and a space for dancing was cleared. A band, with actual members of the Family, played music centuries old, which lent an elegant air to the gala.
Vampires of all races and backgrounds converged on the house, all of them having had their souls restored. The party was a welcomed holiday from their guilt-ridden days, a time when they could catch up with old friends and share familiar stories. For while they were immortal and technically dead, the vampires were acting no differently from humans, gossiping, dancing, laughing. In fact, the only hint that they were different was the blood taken from clinics in their wineglasses. The rich red liquid closely resembled red wine, of which there was plenty, of course.
Angel waited impatiently at the bottom of the large staircase, occasionally greeting old acquaintances. What was taking Buffy so long? Lily was up there with her, lending her moral support Angel supposed, but dear Lord, what were they doing? Getting in some extra battle practice?
Shifting his shoulders slightly, Angel irritably glanced up at the landing for the third time in the past fifteen minutes. For a split-second, when he first saw her, he mistook her for his own namesake.
Buffy slowly made her way down the stairs, one hand lightly trailing on the banister. People turned and stared at her, but neither she nor Angel noticed. They only had eyes for each other. As she came towards him, Angel's eyes traveled down the length of her body then back up to her face. She wore a dress of dark red material, which spilt over her shoes as she stepped down each step. Her arms were bare, the neckline showing just the merest bit of her bosom. Her beautiful, curving neck was shown off perfectly, with her hair piled up out of the way. She wore no jewelry, but in her hair was two red butterflies, nestled softly into place.
Walking down the last step, Buffy stood in front of Angel, her heart in her throat. He stared at her, a look of rapture on his face and she waited expectantly, and breathlessly, for his verdict.
Finally finding his voice, Angel met her eyes and smiled softly at her. "Buffy," he said quietly, glancing down at her then up again for the second time. His smile widened, "You look beautiful."
Buffy's face broke into a grin and she asked, "You think?"
Angel nodded vehemently, showing an enthusiastic affirmative. "I think. I really think!"
Buffy's pleasure doubled and she placed her hand in his. "Well, if I do say so, you look pretty sharp yourself. You certainly clean up well," she commented as she took in his classic black tux.
Angel smiled his thanks, then shrugged his shoulders and sheepishly admitted, "Lily picked it out for me."
Buffy giggled, "Remind me to thank her, will you?"
"Certainly," Angel replied, lifting her fingers to his mouth. He pressed his lips against them for a moment, then he tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow. "Ready?" he asked.
"Honey," she replied in a Hollywood voice, "I was born ready."
He shared a grin with her, then moved forward, through the open doors onto the patio. The lights strung everywhere appeared like fairies floating in the air, and the music floating on the breeze called for dancers to illustrate its passion. The night was working its magic on all creatures, enhancing the natural beauty of the world. There is nothing like a moon lit night shared with a soul mate.
Buffy glanced around, taking in the new sights and new faces and nervously noticed that many others were staring back at her. To comfort herself, she tried telling herself that they were staring at Angel, after all, he was incredibly hot in that tuxedo. But that lie sounded lame even to her mind's ear. She knew she was going to be the object of attention all through the night, she was just going to have to make the best of it.
From their right, Jeanette appeared out of thin air, accompanied by Darron, who looked dashing in his own getup. Jeanette wore a simple, off the shoulder gown of light green, which set off her dark looks. On any other vampire, the color might have seemed out of place, but Jeanette could make anything look dignified.
Smiling, she approached Angel and Buffy and said, "Buffy, you look absolutely stunning! You two make the handsomest couple I have ever seen. That's not to be taken lightly either, considering I've been around for nearly six hundred years."
Buffy gaped at her and squeaked, "Six?" Then she added to cover up her surprise, "Well, let me tell you, you don't look a day over three hundred."
They laughed at that, then Jeanette circled Buffy's waist with her arm. "Would you boys please excuse us while we powder our noses?" She smiled sweetly, and without waiting for a response, steered Buffy through the crowd and off to the side.
Buffy glanced over at her, slightly puzzled by her newfound friend's behavior. "Is something wrong, Jeanette?"
She laughed lightly, touched by her concern. "No, dear, everything is fine. I just wanted to warn you about a few people."
"Warn me?" Buffy repeated, then her brow smoothed in comprehension. "Let me guess, there are a few barracuda gossips out there who are going to pick me to pieces to find out everything about me?"
Jeanette slid her a sideways glance and commented, "You've been through this before?" When she got a nod and smirk from her companion, she continued. "Most will leave you alone for a while, since you're with Angel and he is rather popular-"
"Angel's popular?" Buffy interrupted. "Wow, I'm proud. He must be learning how to play nicely with others."
Jeanette laughed again, "You are so refreshing, Buffy, just what I need. Not all of them will contain their curiosity just for the sake of politeness. Most of them mean no harm, not to you at least, but there are a few, who, shall we say, are not very kind. There is one in particular that you should look out for. Her name is Andria and she's an Italian vampire that was recruited into the Family about the same time as Angel."
Buffy turned toward her, a slight frown on her face. "Just why should I watch out for her?"
Jeanette hesitated, then said carefully "Well, you see, Andria was quite- How should I put it? - Attached to Angel, you could say. They were something of an item sixty years ago, just before he left the Family. When he returned, sans the attractive young girl he had supposedly fallen for, she began to make her move again."
Buffy's face drained of what color she still had and she asked weakly, "Were they- I mean, he didn't- Did they- Date?"
Jeanette stopped and turned to face Buffy, her eyes kind and gentle. "Angel was vulnerable for a long time, Darling. His physical wounds healed quite quickly, but the emotional ones. . ."
Buffy lowered her head to hide the tears gathering in her eyes as she realized that everyone here must know of what she'd done and some might even hate her and for a second, shame for her actions overtook her. But something in her, a large part of what had made her the Slayer forced her to raise her head high, stifle the quiver in her chin and banish her trembling tears. They were for another time, one when she was alone with her guilt and pain.
"Andria moved in right away, and in doing so, made a huge error. Angel isn't an idiot, and he realized what she was trying to do. He told her very politely and very firmly that he wasn't interested and told her to leave. She did, knowing she had made a mistake in underestimating his feelings for you, but she returned about a year ago, this time in the pretense of friendship. Men do not have very good memories it appears, and Angel took her offer at face value. They spent increasingly more time with each other, which delighted Andria, until he discovered where you were. And suddenly she is once more out of the picture."
Buffy nodded, taking it all in. "I guess in her mind, I'm intruding right? After all, she thinks that since I did leave Angel for five years, I have no right to claim him."
"Yes," Jeanette replied. "Andria will do everything she possibly can to embarrass you, discomfort you or emotionally hurt you, without awakening Angel's suspicions. She knows that if he finds out what she's doing, he'll never forgive her. So she will use all of her power to make you miserable so it is YOUR choice to leave, and the only one to blame will be you once again."
Buffy stared Jeanette straight in the eyes, forgetting for an instant the music or the lights or the vampires. For the first time since getting here, she had something to concentrate on other than her own feelings. This was an adversary; one she knew how to handle. Andria probably thought her inexperienced but back at Hemery High in LA, she'd learned all there was to know about fighting someone over a guy. She knew all the strategy; she knew how to appear tough to the enemy and frail to the guy so he felt he had to protect you. She also knew how to show the guy that you were strong and willing to fight for him. She knew how to play the game and most of all; she knew how to win. And she always won.
"I appreciate the warning Jeanette," Buffy thanked her companion. "I may have left and I may have made mistakes, but I'm back now and I know that Angel cares for me more than he ever could for her. And I'm ready to fight to keep him. Anytime, anywhere, any way."
"Good," Jeanette said. "That kind of determination, and you'll win. Now lets get back to the boys before someone else does. One of the younger vampresses has had her eye on Darron and the big lug is dumb enough to fall for her."
The two vampresses made their way through the growing crowd back to where they had left their escorts. As they broke through one last cluster of people, Angel came into view. Beside him stood Darron, holding a glass of blood in one hand, but he was talking to someone else. From her vantagepoint all Buffy could see was the back of a very daring black dress, long dark hair and a shapely form. Immediately an alarm went off in the back of her mind,
Pasting a wide smile on her face, one reminiscent of Cordelia's, Buffy glided right past the woman as if she hadn't even noticed her, gracefully placing herself slightly between Angel and her. She grasped his hand in her own and stared up at him, beautiful wide blue eyes doing over time. "Sorry we were so long, Angel, but Jeanette's so charming, I couldn't stop listening to her stories."
Angel glanced down at the beautiful pale waif whose head came only to his chest, then at his ancient friend. "Stories?" he asked a suspicious note in his voice. "What kind of stories?"
Jeanette chuckled at him, "Don't worry Angel, nothing too embarrassing. Though I think I did mention the incident at the German bar in 1909."
Angel eyes widened in horror and Buffy grinned at him, "I think I could get used to hearing about your past. It must be very interesting." Turning, Buffy kept her hand in Angel's and placed her other one possessively over his forearm. Angel didn't notice her inordinate amount of contact, or if he did, he certainly didn't mind.
Buffy glanced at the woman in front of her, noting a look of jealousy in the others eyes that disappeared as soon as Buffy turned around. She slid her gaze back up at Angel and said in a reproachful tone, "Angel, aren't you going to introduce us? It's not like I know everyone here."
"She's right," the stranger added sweetly, "She hasn't been around long enough, what with her vacation and all."
Buffy thought,
"I'm sorry," Angel said. "Buffy, this is Andria, an old friend of mine." Buffy thought to herself. Angel continued, "Andria, this is Buffy Summers. She'll be here for at least a month or so."
Buffy reached out her hand and Andria shook it, lightly. There was no contest of strength or sizing up the other's grip. Instead, the two women studied each other, each knowing that the other must instinctively know of their agenda with the dark vampire beside them.
Andria was, for lack of a better word, gorgeous. She was the embodiment of the mythical Italian girl, and a dream vision for any man. She was tall, about five inches taller than Buffy, with a slim, curving form and a long elegant neck. Her long dark hair fell midway down her back in soft, controlled waves, and her light brown skin was flawless. Brown eyes sparkled under perfect eyebrows, whispering of promises and mytsteries. She was, Buffy knew, going to be a formidable opponent.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Andria." Buffy commented, returning her hand to Angel's arm.
"Likewise, I'm sure," Andria spoke in a smooth, honey-like voice, yet beneath that sweetness lay a poison that, Buffy knew, was just for her. Then Andria turned her attention back to Angel, asking, "Are we still going to visit Phillip tomorrow, Angel? I know he was looking forward to it, he wanted to discuss some legends with you."
Angel nodded, then suggested, "I thought Buffy could come along. I thought she would like Phillip and vice versa. I've already talked to him, since I didn't think you'd mind. Do you?" Forced into such a corner, Andria could only nod.
Buffy could tell she was going to say something else, but just then the live music stopped to give the players a chance to mingle and some recorded, more modern music began to play. The first was a song by a British artist Buffy recognized from a few years back, and she tugged on Angel's arm. "Oh, Angel, can we dance? I love this song!"
Angel immediately agreed, wanting the few minutes alone with her, then nodded to their companions, "If you'll excuse us." With that, he led Buffy out onto the dance floor.
Once they reached the middle, directly under the huge light where all the wires holding the lanterns converged, Angel turned to Buffy and pulled her into his arms. Placing one of her hands on his shoulder, he took the other in his own and placed his left on her hip. Gently they swayed in time to the music, staring deeply into each other's eyes.
Glancing up above them, at the bright light above their heads, Buffy asked, "Is there any particular reason you have us front and center, under what could be the Star of Bethlehem?"
Angel chuckled and replied, "Well, I figure everyone will be killing themselves all night to get a glimpse of you, as you are the most beautiful, most intriguing, most charming woman here, so I thought that if they all saw you now, they might not stalk you for the rest of the night."
Buffy ducked her head to Angel's shoulder, feeling her face become hot. "Stop it," she commanded, "You're making me blush."
Angel kissed her exposed neck lightly and whispered into her ear, "Is that a bad thing?" He felt Buffy's muscles tighten, as if she were going to pull back and reply, but then she relaxed, deciding to let him compliment her. She leaned her head against his strong shoulder, her eyes shut and dreamily contemplated how much she loved the feeling of his arms around her. Floating through the night air, the strands of music, wove their way into her conscience, lulling her.
Much change too soon,
Even the dawn chorus changed her tune,
Indulge me, will you protect me?
From the passing of time,
Let all our years pour like wine,
Will I be beautiful to you?
So then when we stand together,
Three decades on,
Will you breathe your life into me?
Under the eyes of heaven, can we make
Time stand still?
The evergreen's fading, as time turns her pages,
Everything's changing but me, me.
Is it always the same?
There's nothing left but remains,
Still, will I be beautiful to you?
Indulge me, oh protect me
I know there's always a risk,
Time has a deadly French kiss
So come to the waters edge,
Where you can draw your circles around me.
Around me.
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