Title: Just a Girl

Summary: What if Buffy hadn’t gotten her powers back in Helpless? B/A

Rating: PG-13

 

 

Chapter Two   Chapter Three

 

Chapter One

 

   I’m lying in bed totally not sleeping. I can’t. I’m exhausted. I guess it’s the absence of slayer powers. I need more then three hours of sleep at night. I can’t used to the idea that maybe my calling is wrong number. And you know what is really going through my mind? If I’m not the slayer how can Angel still love me?

 

          Yeah he and I had this discussion earlier today at the mansion and he says he saw me before I was the slayer. He loved me before I was the slayer. I don’t know how he could, how he can. If I’m not the slayer then I’m just that shallow, ditzy, cheerleader. Angel’s type isn’t exactly cheerleaders.

 

 

A week later:

 

        I hold the slender, silver throwing knife the way Giles taught me. I glance apprehensively at the target on the wall and then at Giles.

 

          “Go ahead, Buffy. You should have your slayer skills back by now. That includes your aim” he says.

 

          I sigh and shrug. If he’s not opposed to me putting more holes in the library paneling I’m not opposed to doing it. I toss the knife. I know how it feels when I throw a knife as the slayer, like an extension of my fingers, an extension of my arm, myself. This doesn’t feel like that. I cringe as the knife goes through the window, about three feet from the target.

 

          Giles clears his throat.

 

          “I told you I still hadn’t gotten my strength back. Mom had to open the OJ this morning” I say.

 

          Giles takes his glasses off and cleans them with a handkerchief. It’s good he seems to have an endless supply of those ‘cause he uses them like all the time.

 

          “I’ll call the Council, see what they have to say about it. In the meantime, Faith is handling patrols quite well” Giles says.

 

          “Yeah ‘cause it’s good to have a backup slayer for those times when you’re feeling not so fresh. Gee I’m glad I died that time” I snap.

 

No reason for me to get my powers back. Faith has it all under control. She’s wanted my life from the moment she stepped in Sunnydale. Gosh lets give her my friends, my mom, my house and my Angel, she can just have it all.

 

“Look, I’m sorry, Giles. I just-I’m not sleeping and I seem to need to sleep all the time now” I apologize for snapping at him. Although this is all his fault. I mean I know he was just doing his job but his job sort of involved ruining my life. I’m thinkin’ it would have been good for him to take a stand before all the drugs, not after. Remember kids, drugs are bad.

 

“No, it’s quite alright. One would surmise that without your slayer powers you would require the same amount of sleep a normal person would. You obviously still have the drugs in your system. Your body will require more sleep until it has been purged. I’d suggest eight hours a night” Giles says.

 

I stare at him, mouth agape. Eight hours? That’s like half my life. I mean I may not be the slayer but I do have things to do, like Bronzing and my boyfr-Angel, whatever he is plus you know I should do homework on occasion and study. I’d like to not fail high school, not a requirement but one of those perks of life.

 

“Kay, you’re kidding, right?” I say.

 

Giles chuckles. “No, I’m not kidding. Get some rest. You’ll feel better. I’ll see what I can get out of the council.”

 

I nod and gather up my bag and jacket. It’s not the red one Psycho Vamp stole. I burned the red one.  “Night, Giles. If Faith needs some help in the slaying department in a very non slaying capacity, let me know” I say.

 

I walk home slowly, taking the chance to think about everything. I know when I get home Mom will be all fluttery and hovering. Sometimes I think she’s really hoping this not-a-slayer thing sticks. I mean in her eyes I’d be a normal girl again, right? Only I’m not normal, not anymore. I just might not be the slayer anymore.  It’s like, Willow and Xander, not exactly normal and I don’t mean in the Gee I’m a great big geek not normal way. I mean not normal in that they know about the monsters and they can’t just shut their eyes and hope they go away.

 

“You really shouldn’t be out walking at night like this, little lady” a voice behind me says.

 

A smile spreads across my lips and I stop. “Yeah? Maybe I need a big strong man to walk me home, or for coffee because I could use the caffeine” I say.

 

Angel steps in front of me. He’s got that half smile on his face that’s mine alone. “I’m available” he says.

 

I thread my arm through his and smile up at him. “Good, so Espresso Pump?” I say.

 

*

 

          He gets our drinks for us and I grin as he walks over to our tiny corner table. He got the same thing I did, a frappachino with tons of whipped cream, chocolate syrup and a cherry on top. I love that he does that because I know, when he’s not drinking coffee with me, Angel drinks straight black cup o’ Joe. I take my cup from him greedily and wrap my hands around it. I lick the whipped cream from around the edge of the mug and Angel grins at me.

 

          “Yummy frappachinos,” I say.

 

          He chuckles and shakes his head. “I just like to watch you drink them” he says.

 

          I arch an eyebrow in askance.

 

          “You’re like a little kid with candy” he says as if that explains anything.

 

          “Well, it is kind of like candy I mean with the sugar and the caffeine. I even got a cherry on top” I say, picking the cherry up and popping it in my mouth.

         

          I eat the cherry and then stick the stem in my mouth.  I know I’m not supposed to do things like this. It falls under the Buffy and Angel no touching no teasing rule but for once in my whole entire life I feel semi normal. I mean I don’t have to be careful how hard I smack the alarm clock in the morning and I don’t have to be careful that I don’t fling the heavy Espresso Pump door open easier then Xander. I’m not supernatural, I’m just Buffy.

 

          Angel is looking at me like I’ve lost my mind. I grin, which makes what I’m trying to do even harder. Finally I reach into my mouth and produce one cherry stem tied into a neat knot. I hold it aloft like a prize. Angel quirks an eyebrow at me and I giggle.

 

          “If you can tie a cherry stem into a knot with your tongue, it means you’re a good French kisser” I tease.

 

          I swear to God he gulps and pales. His entire body gets this tense “ohmigod” posture and half of me feels really guilty for doing this to him. Because it’s not like I can follow through on all the things a cherry stem tied into a knot promises. The other half of me is squealing in delight that I can get this kind of reaction out of him with just a cherry stem tied into a knot.

 

          “Come on, you try. You can probably do double knots” I say.

 

          I bet he’d be blushing right now if vampires could blush. He grins and shakes his head.

 

          “Oh, Angel, it’s a cherry stem, not world in peril stuff. Try it” I say. I pluck the cherry out of his coffee and neatly remove the stem. The cherry goes into my mouth and I tickle his lips with the stem.

 

          Mr. Dour and Brooding has to make an appearance. He reaches up and takes the cherry stem from me. He lays it on the table.

 

          “Buffy, I’m not eighteen. I don’t try and tie cherry stems into knots with my tongue” he says.

 

          I pout and slump back in my chair. I stir at my frappachino with the tiny little straw they give you.

 

          “Come on. Let’s go back to the mansion and train. It’ll do us both good. We can take out our frustrations” Angel says.

 

          I shrug and stand up leaving the frappachino I don’t want anymore on the table. Angel holds his hand out for mine and I take it gratefully, twining my fingers with his. Oh yeah, we’ve got plenty of frustrations. Angel, one big frustration fest of want, need, can’t have. It’s not fair. I have this incredibly sexy, beautiful, sweet, although broody, boyfriend and Fate, whom I hate by the way, imposes this big fat no touch, no taste rule on us. Not fair.

 

          We walk back to the mansion in silence, just kind of enjoying each other. It’s a luxury we don’t get to indulge in very often, usually if Angel and I are together it’s world in peril stuff with demons and goo and dying and the whole horror movie package but with me being no-slay girl, we seem to have more time.

 

          Once we’re in the mansion I slip off my jacket and Angel unbuttons his shirt. He has one of those funny tank tops he calls wife beaters on. I used to think only old men wore those and then I saw Angel in one. Old man is not what comes to mind when I see him in them. And here we go with the frustrations again. Oh yeah, training is a good thing.

 

          “I’m not up to full slayer power. I threw a knife through the library window” I say, feeling the need to warn Angel about my klutziness before we begin.

 

          He grins at me and my stomach flip flops. “No problem. I wasn’t intending to give you any knives” he says.

 

          I nod and drop into an offensive stance that doesn’t feel right or graceful or anything of things it should. Angel smiles and settles into his own defensive stance and my breath is taken away by how beautiful and graceful he is.  He’s waiting for me to attack and I know it’s because he’s afraid he’ll hurt me somehow. Ok so I just gotta get back up on the slayer horse, right? I mean maybe if I use them I won’t lose them? I don’t know it makes sense in my convoluted mind. Oooo I said convoluted, that’s like a Giles word. Of course maybe I didn’t use it right…

 

          “Buffy,” Angel says.

 

          I snap to attention. “Oh sorry, I was doing the tangent girl thing-did you want something?”

 

          Angel grins at me. “Were you going to attack me or just stand there and look at me?”

 

          Well the standing here looking at him plan isn’t such a bad one. Have I mentioned how he looks in those tank tops?

 

          I shake my head to clear it of tangent girl thoughts.  I throw a pretty sloppy right hook at Angel which he easily ducks. He grabs my wrist and pulls me into him. I throw an elbow back into his ribs.  He throws a really slow roundhouse punch giving me plenty of time to duck and roll. I kick up a few feet from him and nearly stumble and fall back on my ass.

 

          “You okay?” He asks.

 

          “Yeah, just not graceful today and I know I hit like a girl. I don’t like it but I know it” I say.

 

          “You’re doing fine, Buffy. Let’s try again” he says.

 

          He’s being sweet. I’m not doing fine at least not in the kicking ass department. If he were Angelus, I don’t even want to contemplate how fast he’d take me down if he were Angelus or you know any creature of the night that wanted me dead, because hey not such a challenge right now.

 

          Angel charges me and I make him back up with a shaky roundhouse kick. He grabs my ankle and twists. It’s a move we’ve used on each other a thousand times. It’s a move I’m really good at recovering from, light on my feet and all.

 

          I fall to the concrete floor hard enough to knock the wind out of me. My head bounces on the floor and the room swims. It starts to get all fadey and black around the edges. When it goes back to normal, Angel is on the floor with me in his arms. His fingers stroke over my face, my lips, my hair. I consider just closing my eyes and lying there as long as he doesn’t stop touching me.

 

          “Buffy, I’m so sorry-you always recover from that. You’re like a cat. You always land on your feet. God, I’m so sorry. Are you okay?” Angel says.

 

          I shake my head very slightly. “I’m okay. I just-I guess I should have told you that not only am I not at full slayer power. I’m kind of at no slayer power.”

 

          It’s not his fault. I just didn’t want him to know how bad it is. I’m still kind of stuck on how someone like Angel can love someone like the me that’s not a slayer.

 

          Angel picks me up and carries me over the couch. He lays me down gently and runs his fingers over the bump on my temple that feels like its grapefruit sized.

 

          “That’s gonna be pretty in the morning I’m sure” I say.

 

          Angel winces slightly. “It could bruise a little.”

 

          “Yay! I’ll look like a mugging victim” I mutter.

 

          “Buffy, I really am sorry” he says.

 

          “It’s okay, really” I say. I sit up and rub my temple. There’s still a little bit of dizziness but mostly my shoulder and my hip hurt from landing on them.

 

          “I’m just gonna go home. Homework is calling and Giles thinks I need more sleep” I say.

 

          “Do you want me to walk you?” He asks.

 

          I want to say no. I want to be the slayer or at least some oblivious school girl who doesn’t realize what can happen on the short, yet ever so long walk home. The truth is, I’m not those things, not tonight.

 

          I nod so slightly that I know if it weren’t Angel and if he didn’t have that habit of watching me so intently that it appears he’s counting my breaths, he wouldn’t have seen it. But it is Angel and he does watch me that closely, all the time.

 

          He takes my hand in his and pulls me to my feet.  We start to walk out the front door and I stop and look up at him.

 

          “Do you mind terribly?” I ask.

 

          He smiles at me, that little sexy fallen angel (forgive the pun) smile and I hope he’s counting my breaths because I just forgot to breathe.

 

          “I never mind one moment I spend with you” he says.

 

          He stays with me until I fall asleep. I love that but it always leaves this bittersweet feeling behind because I know when I wake up he’s going to be gone and for one terrifying moment I’ll realize what it would be like without him in my life. My life sucks without Angel even with the no touching, no tasting and the frustrations and the dour and broody and the whole vampire thing. I told Angel once that he was the one freaky thing in my freaky world that made sense. He still does. He always will.

 

 

*

 

          “Have I mentioned I hate needles? That’s one of the major drawbacks of hospitals. They stick you with needles” I ramble to Giles.

 

          “Yes, Buffy but I have to draw some blood if Willow is going to analyze it. We need to ascertain why the drugs are still in your system” Giles says.

 

          “You know maybe Angel could just smell my blood ‘cause he can do that” I suggest.

 

          “I’m sure he could but Willow’s tests and spells will ascertain things even a vampire can not smell” Giles says.

 

          Willow is holding the hand that Giles isn’t sticking a needle into.  I squeeze my eyes shut and Will squeezes my hand. I feel the needle prick and I chastise myself for being such a baby. I just really hate needles.

 

          “Buffy, don’t hold your breath” Giles says.

 

          I didn’t even realize I was. Giles gets the blood sample and stoppers the little glass vial with a rubber top. Willow takes it into Giles’ office where she’s set up a little mini lab that will test my blood for all drugs, mystical or otherwise.

 

          “Okay so I’m going to class and I’ll be back to check on all the nifty things Wills finds out about my blood” I say standing up.

 

          “It shouldn’t take very long” Willow says.

 

          I nod.

 

          I can’t even think about class the rest of the afternoon. I’m too busy wondering what Willow is finding out about my blood in the library and if she finds something what does it mean and how do I get it out. I dart into the library between math and science.

         

          Giles is behind the desk actually checking in some books that some one returned, probably borrowed sometime in 1978.

 

          “Hey, Giles. How’s Willow coming with the blood work?” I ask.

 

          Giles takes his glasses off and cleans them with his handkerchief.

 

          “She’s still got a few tests to run. I’m sure she’ll be done by the end of the day” he says.

 

          I arch an eyebrow at him. “Kay, did she find something?” I ask. He sounds odd to me.

 

          “No, but I want her to run a few more tests to make sure” Giles says.

 

          I shrug and jump as the bell rings. “Back to the coal mines I go” I grumble and shuffle off to science class.

 

*

 

          It’s not until last period that I’m able to get back to the library. Willow is sitting at the table with books piled all around her and Giles is in his office on the phone. He’s pacing back and forth and making very British sounds.

 

          I toss my bag on the floor and slump into a chair next to Willow.

 

          “Giles doesn’t look happy” I remark.

 

          Willow looks at me wide eyed. “No, uhm he’s sort of probably as mad as I’ve ever seen him. I heard him say bloody Hell and soddin earlier” she says.

 

          “What’s up, Will?” I ask. She looks nervous and Giles is using English curse words and pacing. His hair is also standing on end from running his fingers through it. It’s a great look on Angel, on Giles not so much.

 

          “No-nothing” Willow stutters.

 

          “Come on, Will. You couldn’t lie to save your life. What’s up?” I say.

 

          “I could so! Lie to save my life I mean, if I had too. I wouldn’t like it because I’m really, horrible at lying and keeping secrets-I mean…” she trails off, giving up the ghost.

 

          Giles slams the phone down and says some very colorful, British curses not quite under his breath. He takes a deep breath and walks over to the table where we’re sitting. Ok now I’m getting worried.

 

          “What’s going on guys? And if either of you says nothing when I get my slayer strength back I’ll beat you” I say.

 

          Giles sits down in the chair beside me. “That’s rather the problem. Willow found nothing.”

 

          “Giles I know you’re expecting me to be all intuitive and get what you mean but I think half of my brain got sapped along with the slayer powers so you’re gonna have to explain” I say.

 

          “Willow didn’t find any evidence of any drugs in your system” Giles says.

 

          I take a moment to turn that over in my mind and when the conclusion comes to me I almost gasp. “Then I should have my slayer powers back, right?” I ask and my voice sounds all tremblely.

 

          Giles nods slowly. “Yes, you should.”

 

          “But I don’t.” I say.

 

          The silence over the table is thick enough to taste. When I speak it shatters all ‘round like glass.

 

          “Why don’t I have my slayer powers back? When am I going to get them back?” I ask and my voice pitches higher then I intend for it to.

 

          "I've been on the phone to the Council for a good portion of the afternoon, Buffy. We sent the results of Willow's tests via fax. I sent a sample of your blood over night to the Council, so that they could double check her findings" Giles says.

 

            "Giles, it’s chemistry. You and I both know that if Willow didn't find anything, there's nothing to be found. She's Willow. She doesn't make mistakes like that," I say.

 

            "Yes. I explained such to the Council," Giles says. He looks at his feet and removes his glasses for yet more polishing.

 

            "So what's the unofficial theory?" I ask.

 

            Giles clears his throat. He stands up and walks over to the window I broke yesterday. He fixes his gaze on the broken spot where he's taped a piece of plastic wrap. "The general consensus, pending more tests, is that your slayer powers are gone."

 

            I stare at his back. My mouth has gone completely dry and my brain is moving so fast I can't process what it's doing. My eyes fill with tears and I can't actually force words out for a few moments.

 

            "W-why?" I finally manage.

 

            Giles turns to look at me. "The Council has never attempted use of these drugs on anyone who has previously died."

 

            "I was only dead a minute or so and look at me now, so not dead." My voice comes out a shriek.

 

            "Yes, well apparently, at least according to theory, that was enough for you come back a bit different, enough that the drugs worked differently on you then they do on the average slayer," Giles says.

 

            I shake my head. "So that's it? I'm supposed to go back to being a Cordelia clone? Will the council take away the juvenile delinquent brand I've got on my school records? Will they take away the three months I spent in a mental hospital because I went and ran my mouth to my mom about vampires and demons? Will they take away me killing Angel to save the world?" I'm yelling and I don't care who's still here to hear me. I whirl on my heel and take off at the fastest pace I can manage. It's not slayer fast, but apparently it never will be again.

 

Chapter Two

 

          I ran until my breath gave out and there was a stitch in my side. I think Willow ran after me for a while but she gave up and went back into the library. I considered going home but this is like a dream come true to my mom and I really don’t want to discuss how I can go to college and have a normal boyfriend and make great grades in school now. I don’t want to hear her say “this is really for the best, Buffy”.

 

          So now I’m walking through the cemeteries, a great big No Trespassing for a non slayer girl in a town like Sunnydale. I can’t help it. I’ve spent so much time here that it’s comfortable. It’s pretty and quiet, the perfect place to walk and brood.

 

          My deep non-thoughts, because I’m still pretty much numb, are interrupted by a vampire, only it’s the vampire I like.

 

          “Buffy,”

 

          I can’t help but smile. It’s the way he says my name, like a blessing in a church on Sunday morning.

 

          “Angel,”

 

          “I talked to Willow earlier. She told me what happened,” he says.

 

          “You talked to Willow?” I ask surprised. Angel hangs with my friends because they’re my friends but they don’t all decide to go out to the Bronze on a Saturday night when I’m not around.

 

          “After last night I was worried. I called the library looking for you. I wanted to make sure you were okay,” he says.

 

          “Oh, yeah the bump on my head, it’s a little green and blue, nothing Maybelline can’t fix,” I say.

 

          “I wasn’t talking about the bump on your head,” he says.

 

          “I know,” I say. I’m kind of being avoid-y girl about the subject.

 

          “So how are you?” He asks.

 

          Right now, it’d be nice if Angel had some of those mind reading abilities all the movie vamps have, ‘cause I know when I start I’m not gonna stop and it’s just going to be tangent girl all over, but tragedy tangent girl which is so much worse then I-have-a-hot-boyfriend tangent girl.

 

          I shrug in response to his question. We walk alongside each other in silence. Angel doesn’t push. He’s never been Mr. Pushy guy. I guess he’s got enough of his own tragedies to know that sometimes you just can’t talk about them.

 

          However, now not one of those times.

 

          “I spent so long wishing for this,” I finally say.

 

          “A normal life,” he says.

 

          I nod. “Yeah, since the day I got the destiny card all I wanted to do was give it back, tell them sorry but you’ve really got the wrong girl. And now I’m no longer that girl, and in theory I can have this normal wonderful life. The reality of it kind of sucks though,” I say.

 

          Angel looks at me puzzled, not getting it yet.

 

          I take a deep breath. “In health class a few years ago we watched this film on germs and bacteria and other microscopic organisms and the film went on and told about how your mattress and your sheets and even your skin has all these teeny tiny bugs all over it. I scratched at my skin until it bled. I wore one of those funny white masks over my mouth when I slept for weeks. Eventually I got over it, but before the film those things were all still there, I just never knew it so they didn’t bother me. It’s like that,” I say.

 

          Angel quirks an eyebrow at me and I let out a huge sigh. He has to make me tell him straight out what’s wrong. He’s not going to let me use round about metaphors and vague insinuations. No fair I like my round about metaphors.

 

          “I know what goes bump in the night, Angel. I know there are monsters and they hurt people. I can’t just ignore that, but I can’t fight them either and yeah Willow and Xander help me but they were fighting with a slayer. That’s a little different from fighting with a weak, kitten-y girl,” I say.

 

          “Buffy, you’re not kitten-y,” Angel says.

 

          “Hello, were you absent last night we had the Buffy is a wuss show?” I ask.

 

          “You have to have time to adapt to being weaker, slower, less athletic but there are thousands of women all over the world that would be extremely irate to think that you consider them weak because they aren’t slayers,” he says.

 

          “Thousands of women who didn’t used to be the slayer,” I say.

 

 It makes a difference. I get what he’s saying. There are plenty of strong women all over the world that get by every day without any superhero enhancements. Willow, for one, Ms. Calender, although maybe not the best example because dead, my Mom and then you start factoring in the women who are professional athletes, the list goes on and on but none of those women were ever the Slayer. They don’t know what it’s like to have the strength, the speed, the reflexes, a Slayer has naturally. All those women have to work to be strong. I just had to wake up in the morning.

 

“Buffy, you’ll adjust,” he says.

 

I nod. “I guess so. Its just-God this sounds so elementary school but I used to be the Slayer and I was special, now I’m just Buffy Summers, sub par student, ditzy blond ex-cheerleader.”

 

          Angel stops me by grabbing my wrist. He glides his fingers over my brow bone, across the bruise on my temple, down my cheek and along my jaw, ending with his thumb on my chin. “Maybe it was never being the Slayer that made you special.”

 

          “Maybe?” I whisper.

 

          Angel shakes his head. “Buffy Summers made being the Slayer special, not the other way around.”

 

          I sigh and melt into his arms. One of the nice things about Angel, he always knows just what to say to make me feel better. After a moment of being wrapped in Angel, slayer, ex-cheerleader, human, whatever doesn’t seem to matter anymore and I wonder absently what I was so upset for anyway. I tilt my head up to look at him and he kisses my forehead. He steps away after a moment and I let him because I watched as the desire rushed through his eyes.

 

          “Mom should be asleep by now, walk me home” I say.

 

          He looks at me perplexed. “Why don’t you want to see your mom?”

 

          I shrug. “She’s just-I don’t know. This is like what she’s wanted forever. I just want to take some time to adjust to it before I listen to her adjust, over and over again,” I say.

 

          Angel nods and takes my hand in his. 

 

          “You know, this changes our date modus operandus. We’re going to have to start doing things normal couples do,” I say.

 

          “Buffy, we’re not a normal couple. We never will be,” Angel says.

 

          I sigh. “Well, yeah, you’re still a vampire and while it’d be lots of fun to go walking in the cemeteries and watch you fight baddies and do all the things I used to be able to do, I’m really trying to stay off the depression train.”

 

          And for all the right things Angel manages to say, he also manages to be a complete moron at times. I mean he could have said ‘Sure Buffy lets go for dinner and a movie this Friday or I’d love the chance to go Bronzing or bowling’ but no he has to remind me of how different our worlds are now. Not that they weren’t always different, ‘cause hey vampire and slayer, but now our worlds are galaxies apart instead of just worlds.

 

          “Look, I can just walk the rest of the way home. I’m sure you’ve got some high quality brooding to do,” I snap.

 

 I jerk my hand away from his and run away as fast as I can manage. Angel could have caught up with me, easily, but he didn’t and I wonder if maybe he didn’t want to. Or maybe he’s doing some long distance skulking and the whole feeling Angel inside thing I used to do is gone with the slayer thing and if it is that sucks rocks. I like being able to feel Angel inside. It’s nice to know when he’s near by. We’re also the only couple I know that does that, that’s also nice. By the time I get home I’m a big mess of tears. I swipe at my face and try to sneak in the front door.

 

          “Buffy, is that you?” Mom asks from the living room.

 

          “Uhm, yeah but I’m just gonna go up to my room. I’m kind of still feeling icky. Night Mom,” I say and jog up the stairs to my room before she can argue with me.

 

 

*

 

          I’ve been normal girl for two weeks now and I guess I’m getting used to it. I still forget that I can’t do things like throw Larry on his back when he’s being an ass or save Xander from getting pummeled.  I still spend a lot of time in the library but now Faith is there and Giles does the research for her. It’s kind of weird. Faith has stepped up to really be the get-it-done girl. Apparently she likes having my life. Okay so that’s not fair, I mean it’s good she’s being all responsible and slayerish, because I can’t be.  And you know the Hellmouth isn’t gonna stop spewing out the things that go bump in the night.

 

          I slam my European History book shut and slump even further down in my chair.

 

          “I am never going to get this,” I say.

 

          “Oh, sure you will, Buff. I could go over it with you again if you want” Willow says.

 

          I shake my head. “Nah, thanks Will but I think my brain has absorbed as much European history tonight as it’s going too.”

 

          “Kay, uhm the test is sort of tomorrow though. I mean I’m sure you remembered but just in case you didn’t” Willow says sheepishly.

 

          Xander takes that moment to jerk awake. “Test? Huh? Did someone say test?”

 

          Willow smirks. “European History test tomorrow. I was reminding Buffy.”

 

          “Is that the one we spent last night studying for?” Xander asks.

 

          “And I’m sure you’re going to do stellar, Xan,” I say standing up.

 

          “I expect to perform to my standard D minus” Xander says.

 

          “Yeah, I’ll be happy if Ms. Thompson doesn’t throw me out of her class and put me in special ed,” I say.

 

          “Don’t say that, Buffy-” Willow starts.

 

          “Its okay, Will. I’m just gonna head home and maybe hit the books there.”

 

          Willow bobs her head. “Or you know there’s always someone we know and you love that was actually alive when a lot of this stuff happened.”

 

          I bite my bottom lip. “I don’t wanna bother him ‘cause you know I’m sure he’s really busy.”

 

          “Yeah, with the brooding, ‘cause you know he does that,” Willow says.

 

          I smile weakly at her and pick up my bag. I slide the European History book inside and start out the door.

 

          “Hey, Buff, I’m just gonna finish up helping Giles here so you could call me later if you needed to talk about girl stuff,” Willow says.

 

          I smile broadly at her. I can’t help it. Out of everyone Willow has been the most supportive person of everything, me and Angel, me killing Angel, Angel coming back from Hell, me not being a slayer anymore. Willow just always loves me and that’s a good thing to have.

 

          “Thanks, Will, I might call later,” I say.

 

          I’m halfway home when I decide that Willow is right. Angel was alive for a lot of this European history stuff. He could be helpful and besides, excuse to see Angel. Not like I can use demons and apocalypses anymore.

 

          “Hello,” I shout as I walk into the mansion. My voice echoes in the vast emptiness of it.  I know he’s not here just by walking inside. The entire place has a feeling of no one home.

 

          I poke my head into Angel’s bedroom but it is predictably empty as is the kitchen and the bathroom.  I shrug my bag off my shoulders and sit down on the couch in front of the fire place. I pull my history book out and decide I can absorb here just like I can absorb at home and I can wait for Angel all at the same time.

 

          “Okay, so 1789 something called the French Revolution started…”

 

*

 

          The next thing I know, Angel is crouched beside the couch, shaking me awake.

 

          “Buffy,”

 

          I let out a jaw cracking yawn, really lovely I’m sure, and sit up. I rub my eyes.

 

          “Angel? What time is it?” I glance at my wrist for my non existent watch.

 

          “Almost three in the morning. What are you doing here?” He asks.

 

          “European history, I was sort of hoping you could help me. Where were you?” I ask.

 

          Angel stands up and walks over to the fireplace where he tosses some more wood on it. He shoves his hands in his pockets. “I was helping Faith patrol.”

 

          I laugh hollowly. “Okay, dementia just set in ‘cause I thought you said you were helping Faith.”

 

          “I was. There’s a new group of vampires in town, the El Illuminati. Giles thought Faith could use my help with them,” Angel says.

         

          “Giles? Giles suggested you help Faith?” I stare at him, mouth agape. Giles of all people did this. Faith is sexy and slayer-y and slutty and so totally wants my boyfriend. Giles knows all that and yet.

 

          “Buffy, its business, Faith needed some help taking this group down. I was the logical one to ask. I’ve always helped you with the slaying,” he says.

 

          “Yeah and you’ve always helped me with the making out in the cemetery. Did you help Faith with that too?” I shout. I know I shouldn’t say these things but I can’t help it.

 

          “Buffy, you know I didn’t. I’m with you” Angel says.

 

          “I know you were with me,” I say.

 

          “Have I done anything to suggest I might be otherwise now?” Angel asks.

 

          I scuff my foot on the floor and look at it sullenly. “No, but that’s not the point here. It’s that Faith would totally not care if you’re with me or not. She’s got a major hard on, pun intended, for you.”

 

          “And I don’t have a say in this? I can say No, Buffy and if it ever comes to that I will. You don’t have to worry about me and Faith. I don’t want a bad girl. I’ve lived a long time. I’ve had dozens, more, of girls like Faith and there’s no comparison. In two hundred and forty three years, I’ve loved one person.” He looks into my eyes, down into my most secret places, when he says it.

 

          I smile and get that melt-y, gooey like warm chocolate chip cookies feeling. I slip my arms around his waist and rest my head on his chest. I mean really what can you say when someone tells you that. If you’re me, you don’t say anything you just melt into a puddle of Buffy. A frown furrows my brow as a thought comes to me.

 

          “It is me, right?”

 

          Angel cracks a smile and kisses the tip of my nose. “No one else, ever” he says with a passion that would sound contrived if it wasn’t filled with so much sincerity.

 

          “Now, you said you came here for help with European history?” He asks leading me over to the couch. We sit down, me snuggled up against him.

 

          “Yeah, I’m assuming the French Revolution wasn’t about better shoes” I say.

 

 Chapter Three

 

          I walk into the library and am not surprised to find Faith there with her boots kicked up on the table.

 

          “Hey B” she says in her customary greeting.

 

          “Hey, F” I say and try vainly to keep the sarcasm out of my voice. Faith and I get along, most of the time. We’re not best friends, we probably never will be.

 

          “Hey, I know you and Angel had this thing over him helping me patrol and I understand. I’m not an ad for Good Housekeeping, or whatever and I gotta tell you Angel is a complete hottie, especially for a dead guy-“

 

          “Faith, is this going somewhere?” I interrupt.

 

          “Yeah. I just want you to know I- Angel has a one track mind in a big fat Buffy Summers way. You don’t have to worry about him” Faith says.

 

          “And you would know this how?” I ask.

 

          “I’ll admit it. One night after patrols I suggested we have some fun, get the wild thing on. He turned me down flat” Faith says.

 

          “Yeah, Angel and sex kind of equal Angelus who is this really fun psychotic I wanna suck the world into Hell guy” I say. I can’t believe she propositioned Angel, actually I can totally believe it but now she’s gonna sit there and tell me that. Maybe I could pay someone to take her down. We’d get a slayer who’s a little less screwed up.

 

          “You don’t get it, B. It’s not sex that equal’s Angel’s moment of pure happiness. It’s you” Faith says.

 

          Okay, so she’s screwed up. She’s not stupid.

 

          Giles comes out of his office, probably thinking he’s going to have to referee. He usually does when Faith and I are in the same room for an extended amount of time.

 

          “Buffy, the council would like to talk to you, find out some information, do some tests to complete their records” Giles says.

 

          “Oh yay, I’ll go in the Watcher files as Buffy, the broken slayer” I grouse.

 

*

 

          The council wisely sent someone besides Quentin Travers. I may not be a slayer but I could find a gun to murder the man for what he’s done to me.  Three stuffy watcher-ly looking men sit around the table in the library. We’ve done the interview portion of the visit. That was just fun, not. Now we’re doing the testing part. One of the stuffy guys passes over a folded leather envelope type thing with throwing knives in it.

 

          I smile sweetly. “You might want to move back” I suggest.

 

          “Perhaps you misunderstand where you are to throw the knives” he says.

 

          “I know, that target there right in front of us. You might want to move back” I say.

 

          I threw exactly three knives and they decided that was test enough. I was sufficiently not a slayer anymore. It doesn’t take them long to pack it all up and go back to England. Me and the Watcher’s council never really saw eye to eye anyway. At least the only stuffy English guy I have to put up with now is Giles and then my throat tightens and I wonder if he’s going away too.

 

          “Giles, you and Faith are staying here, in Sunnydale, right?” I ask, trying to keep the tremblies out of my voice.

 

          “Indeed. Sunnydale’s Hellmouth is quite a bit more active then the one in Cleveland. I don’t believe Faith will be going anywhere anytime soon, nor will I” Giles says with a warm smile toward me.

 

          I nod and try to blink back the tears that come to my eyes. Giles has become like the full fledged father figure to me now. I mean my real dad sent flowers on my birthday. Of course Giles drugged me up and essentially robbed me of my slayers powers, but he never left me. He never stopped being support-o dad kind of guy.  With things so unstable right now, it’s just good to know the stable things aren’t going away.

 

          “It doesn’t…bother you that I still hang around here, even though I’m not much help?” I ask.

         

          Giles chuckles softly. “I suppose if it’s alright for Xander to be present and not help, it’s alright for you also” he says with a smile.

 

          That’s my Giles, making sure not to get to sappy.

 

*

 

          We’ve got a blanket spread out on the lawn behind the mansion. I try not to remember that a few weeks ago Angel tried to kill himself here. It really is a beautiful spot if you don’t have all these morbid memories.  I glance over at Angel. The moonlight bathes him, making his skin look like alabaster. Tears rush to my eyes and I can’t help reaching out to touch him. He captures my hand in his and kisses my knuckles.

 

          Things are different between us now. I live our relationship from breath to breath, always afraid it’s going to break not because he doesn’t love me, I know he does, or I don’t love him, more then life, but because I’m normal now and he’s not.  I know Angel and I know he could decide to go all noble at any second and decide he has to leave me for my own good. I try not to worry about that. I try to just cherish every single moment I have with him.

 

          Not being a slayer anymore made me grow up in ways that being a slayer never did. I can’t explain I just know it.

 

          “You okay?” Angel asks.

 

          I nod and blink my tears away. “Yeah, I was just thinking, there’s this whole rite of passage senior prom thing. A lot of the girls will have older boyfriends there. You’d have to rent a tux but if you don’t want to come..” I trail off.

 

          “Is it a big deal?” He asks.

 

          I start to say no. I start to tell him that I can just trail along with Willow and Oz but my throat closes up and I can’t. I just nod. “I can’t lie to you. It kind of is” I admit.

 

          “Okay,” he says.

 

          “Okay?” I look at him surprised. Angel isn’t one for social events and mixing. I’m not even sure he dances.

 

          “Okay,” he says and gives me his little half grin.

 

          I smile broadly as he pulls me into his arms.

 

          Yeah a little supernatural in all this normal is exactly what I need.