//Together again, it would feel so good to be
In your arms, where all my journeys end
You can make a promise and if it's one that you can keep
I vow to come for you if you'll wait for me//
"The Promise" by Tracy Chapman
November 1, 2017
Janna's Place
How long they clung to each other she wasn't sure. It was only when he began to pull away that her thoughts focused more on her surroundings then on the arms that held her so tightly. "Don't, don't let go" she whispered.
"Don't worry, I'm not letting go of you again" Angel softly replied. He stepped back and looked at her, all the while keeping a hand on her arm as if afraid she would disappear once he broke physical contact. "I can't believe you're here. You look wonderful!" His voice was choked, the newly awakened emotion overwhelming his reserved exterior.
"Angel, you look wonderful, as handsome as ever. Me? Well it's safe to say I don't look like seventeen anymore." Buffy laughed as she looked at him, drinking in the sight of him. Was it possible he was even more beautiful?
"You don't look a day over twenty-five!" he swore.
"Well flattery will get you anywhere. What do you say we go get a cup of coffee? The Klingon Queen promised that they would take care of things out front." Buffy asked as she looked at him hopefully. She wanted to keep the light-hearted mood for as long a possible. There was time enough for serious discussion later on.
Grabbing a black leather jacket off a nearby chair he opened the door. "After you, madam." Buffy swatted his arm as she walked past. "None of that! Just hold my hand. You don't need to impress me."
Arm in arm they walked through the streets to a quiet coffee shop. As she walked through the door Buffy stepped on a roach. "Wow, it's almost like being back in the Bronze." Angel laughed. "Well the music here isn't quite as good but the cockroaches are just as hardy. They coffee is pretty good to."
"Since when have you been drinking coffee?" she asked.
"Not me. Sandy, the Klingon Queen, lives for it. I swear I think it's what she uses for blood," he replied.
As they slipped into a corner booth a waitress appeared with two steaming cups of coffee. Suddenly quiet, they sat across the table from each other, once again lost in thought as they came to grips with being together again. Angel was the first to break the silence. "How are you Buffy? How are Willow, Xander, Oz, and well, everyone from Sunnydale?"
Happy to talk about something other then herself for a little while, Buffy began to fill him in on twenty years of Slayerette happenings. "Well Willow is the new Watcher. A new Slayer was called about six months ago and sent to Sunnydale. Unfortunately the Hellmouth is acting up again so Willow and the Slayer have plenty to do. She's still with Oz, although they haven't gotten married. They felt it would bring too much attention to the Slayer if the press started looking at Willow too much."
"I knew Willow was doing pretty well." Angel replied. "Every once in a while a strange e-mail appears on my computer. It feels good to have that connection. I had to laugh when I first heard about Oz though. His first big hit a remake of Werewolves of London? Wasn't he pushing things a bit?"
"Not really. It's the same as it was in Sunnydale with the vampires. He says he won't play the three nights of the full moon because he's superstitious and people believe him because the only other answer is unbelievable." Buffy shook her head remembering how oblivious her mother had been for so long.
"Speaking of unbelievable things," Angel asked. "Is Alex Harris, the favorite author of teenagers everywhere, really Xander? I looked at one of the books at the center and the story struck a little close to home. Something about making the perfect date out of body parts."
"Yes, that's Xander. I was ready to kill him when I first read the stories but then I realized that nobody who mattered would know they weren't fiction. Did you read the one about the PTA meeting? Spike got a big part in that. I wonder if he ever knew?" Buffy laughed at the thought of Spike sitting and reading a teen novel. "Better yet, here's something even more unbelievable, Xander and Cordelia are married!"
"Was the wedding in a broom closet?" Angel asked with a snicker.
"No, actually it was a pretty simple ceremony on the beach in Sunnydale. Willow was the Best Person and I was the Maid of Honor."
"What? No wedding of the century for Cordelia? I would have thought she'd have the picture perfect wedding."
Buffy shook her head. "She had her wedding of the century right after college. She had gone East to Boston, some fancy design school there. While she was away from us she met some fancy Harvard guy. They got married right after she graduated."
"Xander must have been pretty unhappy."
"Words don't begin to describe it. He barely coped for the first year. He finally started to pull himself together and write those stories. I think it was a way for him to remember Cordelia. Then about two years after that Cordelia got divorced and came home. Apparently the fancy Harvard guy had a thing for anything in a skirt. By then Cordelia had realized that she was wrong for leaving Xander. It took her awhile but she was able to get him to forgive her. They got married about eight years ago. They have a five-year old daughter named Joy. She's my godchild." She smiled at the thought of the dark-haired little girl that was so close to her heart. "She was born about a year after my mom died. I think they named her that to cheer me up."
"I'm sorry about that. I had heard. I wanted to be there for you. In fact I was at the cemetery the night of the funeral. I was going to go to you but then Giles..." Angel frowned, unwilling to think of the Watcher he had hurt so long ago.
"You were there that night! I knew I felt something! You should have let me know!"
"I'm sorry, I didn't want to shock him. He looked so much older, so upset. How is he?" Angel asked the question quietly, afraid to stir up memories of their parting, afraid to remind Buffy of the pain he had caused the Watcher even after his soul had been returned.
"He's well. He's been living in England for the last few years. He said he wanted to get back to his roots. He claimed that too much exposure to American culture was going to cause him to forsake tea for coffee. I go to visit him every two or three months, if fact I just got back last week. He's the closest thing to a parent I have left." Buffy closed her eyes for a second as the pain from the loss of her parents once again welled up.
"What about your dad? I thought he was somewhere here in LA?"
"No, he had a heart attack about a year after you left. It was hard for me to accept. I was so used to losing people through Hellmouth related causes. To lose both my parents for such mundane reasons, a heart attack and a car accident... It just really frustrated me for a while. Needless to say I took that frustration out on the unlucky vamp population of Sunnydale." Buffy hesitated, she could see their discussion was heading into some rough territory, territory she wasn't ready to face just yet. Looking at her watch and then looking at the sky she was grateful for a chance to redirect the conversation. "Look it's getting late, or early depending on how you look at it. You should probably be heading for cover. Do you have a place around here?"
"You know you're right. I don't want to start tanning now. Listen, why don't you come with me? Unless you'd rather go back to your hotel?" Suddenly uncertain, Angel looked at Buffy across the table. Reaching across she took his hand. "I'd love to go with you," she smiled. "Besides" she said, "You can fill me in on what you've been up to.
Angel left a few dollars on the table and then took Buffy's hand. "Well Whistler was around the first few years. I think he stuck around because he thought I was about to go off the deep end. But I held it together. More out of stubbornness then anything else."
The street was quiet as they walked hand in hand towards Angel's apartment. "I went to Europe for a while. I figured I could handle old memories better then the more recent ones. I was wrong. I came back within six months. I landed in New York and figured it was time I stopped feeling sorry for myself. I had money. It was time I put it to use. I started the first youth center there. When we were in the planning stages I was trying to think of a name for it. That was when I got my first message from Willow. The name was obvious after that. I called it the Willow Tree. I stayed there running it for a few years, actually let me correct that. I stayed around and made a nuisance of myself while the professionals ran the place. After a few years I realized I needed to leave. You can't stay young looking forever without somebody commenting on it. I moved on to Detroit and started over and then on to Miami. I finally came back to L.A. about a year ago."
"You've been busy," Buffy said. "It sounds like you did a good job with these centers. That you enjoyed it. I'm glad. There were moments when I'd think you were out trying to be a homicide detective or something."
Angel laughed as they walked down the steps to his apartment. "The thought crossed my mind once or twice. Only the fact that I didn't have a beautiful coroner to hang out with kept me from doing it." Still laughing he opened the door to allow her into a small, Spartan room. Gone were the artworks and treasures from his Sunnydale apartment. This room had little in the way of creature comforts. He walked across the room and lit several small candles on a shelf. Coming back to Buffy, he pulled her down next to him on a small sofa. He placed his arm around her along the back of the couch and began to stroke her hair. "Now I've told you everything I've done for the last twenty years. What about you? What have you been doing and what brings you here now?"