Fic: Aftermath (1/?)

[ladyvyxen@xxxxxxxxxxxxx]

Aftermath, Part One.
Flames/Vitriol/Etc. to: ladyvyxen@xxxxxxxxxxxxx
(Better there, than on the list. :/)
This is a continuation/development of the storyline in Convergent 
Slayers.

Anne-Lise frowned. "Sorry for the shortness, but the Rileys burst 
into my thoughts and sucked all the happiness from my soul." She 
sighed and shrugged out of her coat, joining her friends(?) in the 
list's version of The Bronze. "Mind if I take you up on that Jungle 
Juice?"

--

It almost seems a dream, I walk serene and take another breath of 
clean, refreshing air and stare into the ebon night. While moonlight 
glimmers on a distant lake I make my way slowly home, and feel, 
somehow, I'm not alone; something is steeling quietly on my trail. 
And so I turn and see her pale form reach out to grab me by the hair, 
and scared, I scream and flee into the cover of the trees. Unwisely, 
I ignore the noise I'm making as I shaking head far away from 
footsteps racing, feeling fear and hatred chasing nearer, always 
nearer, ever swiftly after me. And then I wake, I'm in her arms and I 
know no harm could take me here, so fear leaves for another night; 
and hungrily I enjoy the sight of Buffy, in peace and dreaming happy 
thoughts, while here I lie caught in the grip of misery: Oh Tara, why 
won't your memories leave me be?

*

"Angel?" Tara looked around the deserted mansion. No sign of her 
salvation, no warmth. The house felt like Winter's glove discarded in 
the heat of Summer. Alone again. As soon as the master's thrall had 
left, she'd felt her troubled soul reassert itself. Her tentative 
grip on humanity, kept alive by numerous wards and protection spells, 
had once more assumed its dominion, and she cried out in anguish.
"Please. Angel?" Silence. Alone. No-one here for her to talk to, no 
absolution, no understanding. No-one. Once more her thoughts turned 
to the one girl who'd ever understood her. Would she ever forgive 
her? Could she?
"Willow." she whispered.

*

Buffy slowly roused as a tongue lapped against her ear. "Willow!" 
she chuckled as she opened her eyes. Blearily, she made out Willow's 
wonderful body as she made breakfast... She turned her head.
"Mew!" the kitten announced.
"Willow, we have a cat?" Buffy sat up, wiping her eyes.
"Oh, that's just Miss Kitty Fantastico!" Willow chirruped. "Isn't 
she cute?"
Buffy peered at the furball. "Yep. Its definitely way up there in 
the cuteness leagues. When did we get a cat?"
"Actually, I've had her awhile." Willow replied, a sadness passing 
over her face. "I just never got chance to tell you about it."
Buffy nodded. "I like her." She scritched Miss Fantastico behind 
the ears and looked over at Willow. "So... When do you want to get 
married?" Willow's smile reflected Buffy's own, and they shared a 
kiss.
"Mew?"
"Aw!" Buffy pouted as they broke apart. "Miss Kitty Fantastico's 
feeling left out." She leaned down and planted a kiss on the kitten's 
head, which cheerfully raked at Buffy's hair.
Willow giggled. "I'm glad you like her. I didn't know if you were a 
cat person or not."
"I like cats," Buffy agreed.

*

Angel huddled under a thick blanket on the back seat of Cordelia's 
Toyota Amazon, not the most comfortable or glamorous place to 
be. "Cordelia...?"
"Uhuh?" Cordelia checked her makeup in the rear-view. To her mind, 
traffic was something that resolved itself.
"Do you have a dog?" Angel asked.
Cordelia rolled her eyes. "Do I look like the sort of person who'd 
own a dog? Hair all over the house. Strange smells. Did I mention the 
hair?"
"I thought not," Angel mused. "Why do you keep blankets in the back 
of your car?"

*

"Willow!" Sheila Rosenberg gathered her daughter into a hug. Willow 
made an 'Ick! An alternative me is licking my neck!' face. 
Buffy giggled. "Hi, Mrs. Rosenberg."
"Please, call me Sheila. Or Mom? After all, we're family now. Aren't 
we?"
"Sheila." Buffy agreed. She could see Willow's concerned glance and 
it buoyed her a little. Still, despite her misgivings over family 
dinner at the Rosenbergs, she'd had a lot more practice at the 
Resolve Face than Willow. She was a master at hiding her feelings.
"So," Sheila continued, "how is Joyce? I haven't heard from her in 
awhile."

*

"Love of two is one, here but now they're gone. Came the last night 
of sadness and it was clear she couldn't go on..." Giles sang from 
his stool in the pump, strumming his acoustic guitar and 
pealing 'Don't fear the reaper' to the thirtysomethings. He glanced 
up and spotted Tara seated at a table, listening intently to him. As 
he finished the song, he feverishly tried to remember if he'd packed 
a stake in his guitar case. He smiled to the few who clapped, and 
packed his guitar away, withdrawing the slim stake he'd put in his 
case and slipping it up his sleeve. Good start, he thought. He 
approached Tara's table and took a seat.

*

End Part 1.