This beautiful layout is courtesy of Cally at DOUBLE RAINBOW...

~St. Patrick's Day 2009~
Edenscroft in Devonshire, England
About 7:45 a.m.

“Wow!”

Buffy restrained a giggle.  Willow Rosenberg’s wide eyes and awed whisper were ridiculously identical to her reaction years ago when they were still high school students and Buffy had confided to Willow that she wanted to be Angel’s lover.

The last few years had been good to Willow.  She’d grown taller and a little bit plump.  But it was a sexy rubenesque type plump, Buffy decided, it really worked for her.  It had been the hardest challenge in Willow’s life to overcome her inhibitions to master the powerful reserves of magick contained within her.  Years and tears and very real fear had gone into making a quietly self-assured woman strolling idly beside Buffy this morning.

“So, for once–“ Willow skirted a clump of weeds and the deep fringe on her long leather buckskin skirt danced over her muddy boot-tops.  “We get a happy ending?”

Buffy shrugged her shoulders and folded her arms.  “I dunno. It feels that way but...”  Her voice trailed off and she looked all around at the natural beauty surrounding them.  The days were warming up a bit and the pond seemed radiant, beautifully dappled with reflected sunlight and fluffy white clouds.  The mossy banks of the pond showed a hint of green, a harbinger of springtime.  Behind them, the apple orchard seemed to hum with its eagerness to blossom and bloom.  A few trees already boasted early buds and glossy green leaves.

“But what?”  Willow asked.  Buffy sighed.

“It’s too good to be true, Will!  I mean,”  Buffy gestured at the grounds.  “Look at all of this.”

“I’m looking.  I’ve been looking, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen a more beautiful place–of course, you’ve been to Heaven and all, so maybe this doesn’t quite–”

“It’s amazing,” Buffy stated plainly.  “Perfectly amazing.  You know, I used to think I could never love Angel any more than I already did!”  Willow watched Buffy’s mouth work emotionally.  “But I was wrong about that.  What we had before was hot, deep, and it was desperate because we always knew there was someone or something right behind us wanting us dead.  It was exciting.  Now–”  Her voice quavered.  “It’s like our love just pours out for each other and it’s more real, more intense, more *everything*!”

Willow nodded encouragingly for Buffy to complete her thought.  “That sounds incredible,” she said.

Buffy nodded while she smoothed some windblown strands of hair away from her face, tucking them behind her ears before she went on.  “But there’s still so much we don’t know!  Nothing’s really changed.  I’m still the Slayer, no matter what.  And Angel has a life–heck, he’s got an adult delinquent son I haven’t even met yet!”  *But I doubt I’ll like the little prick, he sank Angel to the bottom of the ocean!* Buffy sighed frustratedly.  “And my job–I really love it!  I know it’s nothing fancy like yours, big guns in technical for a big guns computer company–”

“Oh Buffy!”

“But I feel like I do a lot of good working with those kids.  There’s more to my life besides hunting and slaying now.”  She looked away from Willow now.  “Angel doesn’t understand that, he just wants us to be together no matter what.  He just wants me to be here for him–Mrs. Angel.”

“And you don’t want that?”  Willow asked softly.

Buffy shrugged miserably.  “I did.” *When I was younger and I was so lonely and my asshole father didn’t give a damn if he missed my birthday.  All I saw was Angel, and he was everything...*

Willow stiffened and she felt the skin crawl on the back of her neck as she asked, “Are you not in love with him anymore?”

Buffy barked laughter.  “If I wasn’t, everything would be so much easier.”  She frowned when Willow shook her head violently.  “What?”

“There’s something you need to know about Angel. And the curse.”

* * *

Wesley met Angel’s eyes tiredly.  Los Angeles time was eight hours behind British time and he wanted nothing more than a quick shower and a comfortable bed.  Still, he managed to stand his ground as he faced the vampire he thought of as a friend and mentor.

“How could you do something like this to a woman you love?” he asked.  “Have you thought about her needs at all?”

Angel turned ice-cold obsidian eyes back to him, unblinking.  Wesley didn’t flinch.  The world he’d chosen to live in as part of his career was dark and Angel no longer intimidated him easily.

“Does she look like she’s suffering?”  Angel’s voice was ice chipped by a cold sharp instrument.  “Or unhappy?”

“She doesn’t know!” Wesley snapped.  “You’ve deliberately kept her ignorant and interfered with her life!  You’ve got no right to arbitrarily choose for Buffy!  She’s a woman and ought to–”

Angel snarled and the slightest shadow of his demon touched his beautiful human features.

“Would you like a cup of coffee?” he managed to ask in a gravelly voice.

* * *

“You’ve broken the curse,” Buffy said stupidly, a little dazed.  “And never told me.”  Ideas froze in place in her mind as delicious aware flew over her in waves.  *Angel won’t lose his soul. Angel is free. We’re free.* Guilt-laden anvils slid from her shoulders as she realised each smile between them, every soft word and touch, each passionate embrace hadn’t been a risk, loaded Russian roulette threatening to blow away the one man she loved more than anything in her life and leave a cold-blooded gorgeous monster in his place beside her.

Willow shook her head.  “I can’t break it,” she insisted.  “Or–I dunno–maybe I can and just don’t know how to do it yet.”  She plucked a twig from her dark green cable-knit sweater.

The two women walked aimlessly through the orchard, the barest traces of last year’s autumn foliage muckily embedded into the dark fertile soil.  Willow thrilled at the excited kinetic energy contained in the orchard.  Spring represented possibility and rebirth in the natural order.  A lot of power manifested itself in creative processes and Willow’s absorption of magic made her keenly aware of its beauty.

Willow stopped short near an apple tree markedly smaller than its siblings planted round it.  It bore a heavily scarred knot very low on its trunk and Willow detected darkness in its aura.  The gentle auburn witch placed her hand curiously on the fist-sized knot, then froze in horror.

Buffy frowned.  “What’s wrong Will?”

*The young tree, only a bit older than a sapling really, shuddered and groaned when the large broad-shouldered man threw a woman–no, a young girl–so hard against it the tree felt the soft cartilage in her slim lengthy nose crush on the tree’s bark.  Her wild screech of pain was choked with blood and she grabbed onto the tree for balance, knees trembling from shock and fear.*

“What’s wrong Will?”  Buffy sounded faded, far away.

*The tall heavy-boned man seized the girl by her long hair, ebony black as the nighttime around them, and wrenched her around to face his distorted, bony features and blazing eyes.

“Why were you eating apples, Dru?”  His voice was hard, cold, and slightly mocking.

“Because–I’m hungry.”  Her reply was thin, watery.

The man–or the creature pretending to be a man, the tree was no longer certain–punched the girl in her belly and she gasped and gurgled, delicate silk slippers sliding in the cool damp soil.  He let her fall and turned to the tree, grasping one of its main branches and tugging, ripping–the tree could not believe the creature was a man anymore, a man did not have the strength to do this–until the branch, thicker than a baseball bat, came away in his hand and the exposed splintered flesh of the tree wept sap tears.

The girl saw him coming, her tear-filled eyes wild with mad despair as he lifted the branch aloft.  The tree watched in horror as its stolen limb was slammed down across the back of the slender girl and she wailed.

“You don’t eat apples, Dru.”  Another blow, hard enough to crush bones, surely, if she were a normal girl.  “You know better.”  He wielded the branch relentlessly, tearing her dress and the fine alabaster lady’s skin beneath it.

“You drink–and you kill.  Or you starve.”  Thud! The girl cried out as she was cut by the bark and twigs.

The tree was terror-stricken.  Of course men ate apples!  What manner of man was this that he forbade the raven-haired girl the nutritious fruit the trees so gladly yielded?

“You   obey me, Dru.”  Thud! More crying and she hid her face in her hands.

“Yes, Daddy.”  She whimpered.

Thud!

“I’m sorry!  Please Daddy!”

Thud!

“I won’t eat more apples.”

Thud!

“I promise, Daddy.”

THUD!

“Daddy PLEASE!”*

“Willow!”

“Huh?”  Willow drew her hand away from the tree and resisted the urge to wipe it on her sweater.  Dread surged into her blood from the startling clarity of the tree’s memory.

“What?” Buffy asked impatiently.

“Ummm–this tree is hurt,” she explained nervously. “I can heal it.”

Willow’s skin crept and protested as she lay both hands against the poor little tree and began a quiet meditational ritual, pouring patient loving reassurance into the tree’s aura, willing it to grow, unafraid, and not be ashamed of its apples.  The monster who had managed to terrorise the tree would never show itself again.  She, Willow, was a powerful magician, and she had made sure of it.  She hoped.  She sensed the darkness retreating, like a stain fading from the tree’s essence until its aura brightened and grew stronger.  Slowly, Willow drew her hands away, then she turned towards Buffy and smiled.

“There! All better now!” she said brightly. *I can’t believe I agreed to help Wesley to make things easier for Angel to hold back Angelus so he could be with Buffy one day!  I know that technically speaking they’re NOT the same person, but the demon is part of Angel whether he wants it to be or not.  We know Angelus is a separate being from Angel, but he’s a distortion of Angel’s personality and characteristics.  Somewhere inside him, Angel has the capability of being Angelus if he chose.*

“That’s great.” Buffy’s eyebrows rose and she smiled.  “Now, could you finish what you were saying about the curse?”

* * *

“Angel, when Rebecca was able to–er–temporarily revive Angelus by slipping Doximal in your drink, I realised how truly vulnerable you are to the curse placed upon you, and its qualities.  I knew something had to be done for your sake and for the rest of us as well.”  Wesley sat down heavily in the contoured stiff-backed Victorian easy chair nearest the fire.

Angel snorted bitterly.  “And you came up with the perfect solution, didn’t you Wes?  For everybody.  Except me and Buffy.”  His hands rested flat on the desk.

* * *

“Wesley came to me because he was concerned about Angel.  Some woman–one of their clients–slipped Doximal into Angel’s drink and it induced a temporary euphoria on him.  It allowed Angelus to manifest and things got pretty dangerous!  Cordelia had to bluff him with her drinking water and maneuver him until Wesley could push him down an elevator shaft.”  Willow spoke earnestly, hoping she could make Buffy understand.

“Wesley and I couldn’t negate the curse–we didn’t know any other spells that might help restore his soul without a curse clause, some sort of penalty that would negate the curse’s effects.  But we did find a spell that could allow me to alter the original curse clause since I was the one who cast the spell that cursed him.”  She took a deep breath.  “Gee!  This orchard is bigger than it looks!  I can’t even see the house anymore!”

“Willow.”  Buffy’s voice was intent, serious.  “How did you change the curse clause?  What will take Angel’s soul away?”

Willow took a deep breath.  “I’m sorry I never told you, Buffy.  Wesley thought it was best if we didn’t tell.”

“Willow!”

“Angel’s soul can only retreat if you ever stop loving him.”

For a moment, all Buffy could do is stare at her best friend in inexpressible shock.  *If you ever stop loving him...Angel’s soul can only retreat if you ever stop loving him.*

Buffy burst into laughter, gales of it rippling out of her spirit and into her body.  Willow watched cautiously.  Buffy laughed, high-pitched, uncontrollable, a wonderful sound she seldom made so spiritedly.  Willow had set them free!  Willow had made their love together a possibility.  Years ago.

And then she had never told them about it.

* * *

“Angel, there was no way for me to be sure the adjustment would actually work!  But we thought it was worth the effort because you might–eventually–find happiness in many different ways, but Buffy Summers would *always* love you.”  And it had worked.  Far better than Wesley could ever imagine.

“I know it, Wes,” Angel chuckled, but there was an angry glint in his eyes.  “Don’t I know it?  I always felt it, even after she died...”

Wes swallowed.  “I’m sorry, Angel, but we had to be sure.”

“Well, be sure now.  We love each other.”

“But you can’t take over her life, Angel, she’s the Slayer!  She’s an adult!”

“YES I CAN!!!”  The vampire stood up, flinging his chair backwards and sending it crashing to the floor.  “I’ve already done it, Wesley, with a little help from my less human friends and the information you so kindly mailed Buffy.”

* * *

“So, you decided to keep it to yourselves in case it didn’t work?”  Buffy echoed disbelievingly.  “You could have at least told me.”

Willow sucked her lower lip under her teeth.  “Buffy, you were trying to make things happen with Riley.  I wasn’t sure it would change anything.  I knew you loved him, knew you always would.  But it didn’t change the fact that you were leading separate lives.”

The witch had to practically skip to keep up with Buffy’s purposeful strides.  Something was not right.  It was broad daylight and there was no sign of the house or the stone wall that led to the gates opening out to the driveway.

“You didn’t trust us, is that it?”  Buffy was trying to keep her temper.  “You thought we’d just want to run away and be together forever without a care for the rest of the world?”

*Isn’t that what you’ve done?* The Slayer’s conscience smote her but she brushed it away.

“I just didn’t want you to be disappointed if I was wrong.  And there was only one way to find out it if worked.  You and Angel would have to meet.  Fall in love with other again.  And you did.”  Willow stopped trying to keep up with her.  “Buffy stop!” she called.  “Something’s not right here!”

Buffy turned to face her friend.  She was angry, more angry than she could ever remember ever being at anyone.

“What?” she managed to ask bitingly.

Willow sighed sadly.  “I think there’s some kind of mojo in the trees, something that keeps us from getting anywhere.  We’ve been walking through the orchards too long not to have gotten past them yet.”

Buffy snorted derisively.  “And what do you think, it’s just growing longer by itself while we walk through it?” she asked.

“Maybe.”

* * *

Wesley’s fists tightened.  “This–this is kidnaping!  White slavery!” he spat.

“Bullshit!  I don’t own Buffy, she belongs to me,” Angel declared heatedly.  “Just like I belong to her.  And you know something?  I’m tired!  I’m tired of working only to help others and please others and never please myself!  I’m tired of knowing that Buffy feels just as incomplete as I do!  I don’t care that I can’t offer her an ordinary life!  In fact, I don’t *want* to offer her ordinary life!  She’s beyond that!  She deserves more than just working a thankless job to even up the status quo between humanity and the demon world–she’s already died twice for it!  It’s someone else’s turn!”

“It doesn’t work that way. You know–”

“She’s mine.  I let go before, when I didn’t have a choice.  I thought there was no hope for us.  I’m not giving her up again and you can either help me or get the fuck out of my way because I will *kill* anybody who tries to stop us this time, soul or no soul!”

“Stop us from what, Angel?”

The vampire turned to face the woman he loved.  The bony ridges wavered and receded beneath his skin and the flames in his eyes softened to rich chocolate brown.  Buffy stood in the doorway with Willow right behind her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Repeat the Sounding Joy" Part Seven

"Repeat the Sounding Joy" Contents...

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