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by Chris Kenworthy (scoobyhq@fcmail.com)
Disclaimer: I'm declaring the characters of 'Buffy the vampire slayer' to be mine as a forfeit for even considering yanking a brand new episode from the schedule. No, just kidding. (sigh.)
There was no response. Buffy hesitated a few seconds, then walked in and started gingerly looking around the old house.
The vampire she loved was nowhere to be seen. Not in his bedroom, not in the study or library, not even in the garden, which was of course still daylit in the late afternoon.
Where could he be, Buffy wondered. In the sewers, or an older hideout for the day, unable to get back here? But what would he be doing??
Then she saw the note on the antique stone table. Not really a note, it was a white envelope sitting on the table. On the front, in Angel's casually elegant script, was a single name; Buffy.
A chill ran down her spine as she ripped the envelope open and read the card inside:
My dearest princess,
What you said before, it's true. We have nothing more to offer each other that either of us can afford to accept. It breaks my heart to leave like this, but I knew I'd lose my resolve if I saw your face again.
Until we next shall meet, if our lives will be so kind to us.
Angel
"No." The word came out first as a half-strangled sob. "No! NO!!" Her hand clenched around the card, crumpling it into a tiny ball, which she flung against the wall, but that act of defiance assuaged her pain not in the slightest. The mighty Vampire Slayer, victor in dozens of battles, crumpled where she stood and curled up into a ball on the floor, shivering helplessly and crying between bouts of breathlessness.
(At Xander's house, Willow's house, and over the phone lines between them.)
Xander looked at his telephone for the twenty-somethingth time that night, shrugged to himself, picked up the reciever and started tapping out the Rosenberg's number. Six blocks away in her own bedroom, Willow picked it up on the second ring.
"Hey?" she said unsteadily into the telephone.
"Hey, Will, it's Xander. I was wondering if you wanted to go to the Bronze tonight?"
"Um," Willow tried to think. "Yeah, but, well, is it okay if I see if Oz can go too?"
"Uh, yeah," Xander answered. "Is that the way it's gonna be, then?"
Willow blushed to herself. "Well, I think that's best. Seeing either of you alone amounts to an unfair advantage, we all know this. And setting up a timeshare system is complicated, and vulnerable to sabotage and trickery. So, yeah, I don't go anywhere socially with just one of you until I've made my choice."
"Okay," Xander said. "Call me back once you've talked to Oz?"
"Sure."
(At the Bronze.)
Faith and Jonny Hardcastle sat together at a table near the stage, talking and laughing. "He just stands there and laughs 'you need a bigger stake.' And there was this big ol' wooden beam right there. So I shove the sucker right through his chest. And that's how I dusted Kakistos..."
Xander, Willow, and Oz walked somewhat awkwardly into the club. "Hey, table over there," Xander called, and they hurried over to settle in the spot. For nearly a minute, not another word was spoken.
Willow broke the silence. "Does anyone else want a drink or something?"
"Yeah, I could go for a sprite," Xander said.
"The usual," Oz muttered sullenly. Willow smiled faintly and headed off to the bar.
"She knows your usual?" Xander said. "What is your usual, anyway?"
"Equal parts root beer and ginger ale," Oz said, shrugging.
"Figures," Xander said.
Oz sighed loudly. "It's gonna be a long evening," he muttered to himself.
Just then Willow came back with the drinks... and almost dropped her reddish beverage when she saw Buffy walk through the Bronze door, looking more devastated than Willow had ever seen her. "Buffy!" she called.
"Huh?" In the moment Buffy first looked up Willow could have sworn that she didn't have the faintest clue where she was, never mind who was talking to her. "Oh, hi Will."
"Buffy, what's wrong?" Willow asked urgently as Buffy came over to the table and sat down.
"I, uh, Angel's gone." Just speaking his name Buffy seemed to slump her shoulders a little more sadly yet.
"He is?" Xander prompted, somehow unable (damnit!) to get every trace of pleasure out of his voice. Buffy whimpered, and Willow and Oz glared at Xander. "Keeping quiet."
"What? How? Just now?" Willow asked in quick succession.
"I don't know how long ago. Most of the stuff is still up at the mansion, but he left me a note..." Buffy stifled another sob. "I don't know why it's hitting me so hard now. I was the one to break it off with him; there's no reason he should have stayed in town. But somehow I didn't expect him to just pick up and leave."
Just then, Cordelia stepped up close to the table and cleared her throat for attention. "Hi Xander. Willow, Oz, Buffy." She nodded her head the slightest amount to each of the three of them. "I heard about your thing. Well, I've got a date to the Masquerade myself, none other than Cole Palmer, thank you very much." Cole Palmer was one of those guys who achieved remarkable heights of cooldom simply by being completely unconcerned about them; a handsome stud with sandy brown hair and a lean but durable physique. He was information officer on the student council and on the varsity wrestling team. "With this, I officially declare myself free of geekdom, never again to stray. Goodbye forever, suckers. Oh, and Buffy? Your mascara's running."
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