Strange Place to Live:
Disclaimers: I don't own Buffy: The Vampire Slayer or any of the related characters. I'm just borrowing them. What I do own is the plot and events of these specific stories, and any characters you don't recognize.
Author's notes: This is the third story in my "Strange Place to Live" series. This means it takes place in my parallel universe that diverges from the show prior to "Helpless." The previous stories are Coming Home and Demon Hunter. I really recommend you read those stories first, but you should be able to catch on anyway. This story also makes reference to events and includes characters from some of my other fan fictions. Robin Cunningham-Baker was introduced in "We Do What We Can." Colleen Cunningham is the main character of my "Journal of the Observer" series, especially "Sunnydale." I think you should be fine without reading either of these stories, but if you want to know more about these characters . . . .
Prologue
"If everyone in the world
would give me their treasure
I would not want for more
than I have right now"
~I Couldn't Love You More
Sade
"Romantic Dinner and Slay Ride"
Buffy smiled as she cleaned her plate of the last of her dinner. "Delicious," she said.
"Thanks," Angel replied, looking at her through the candlelight. "I'll have to thank Willow for the cookbook."
They sat quietly for a long moment, just content being together. The mansion was lit by candlelight, silent beyond the main room. Of the many evenings they had spent together here, it was nice to have one that was purely romantic, just to be a normal couple.
Okay, almost normal. "I really should patrol before going home," Buffy said, breaking out of the moment.
Angel nodded and stood up. "Let me just clear the table. I'll be back in a minute." Slipping on her jacket and gathering her things, Buffy waited patiently for Angel to return. She was fidgeting with slight impatience by the time he did so. "What took you so long?"
"I had to get something," he said casually, putting on his jacket and slipping a stake up his sleeve.
The night was a bit cool for late summer, with a gentle breeze that made it a good evening for a pleasant walk. If one could ever have a pleasant walk in Sunnydale. The two of them walked side by side, wary and alert for the town's nocturnal denizens. They were silent, and so was the night around them, as none of the vampires seemed to be making a move. By the time they finished patrolling vampire hot-spot number three and entered another of Sunnydale's graveyards, their manner became more relaxed and the silence grew uncomfortable. "So," Buffy asked finally, "what's up?"
"Hmm?"
"Oh, that says a lot," she said. "You're being incredibly quiet, even for you, tonight."
Angel shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant but clearly preoccupied. "I was just thinking."
"About?" Buffy prodded. When Angel didn't reply she continued, "You know, I do believe we're way past the point in our relationship where you need to be all silent and cryptic."
Walking a moment longer in silence, he just nodded. "Let's sit," he said then, leading her to a bench-like grave marker.
They sat next to each other, and Buffy watched as Angel fidgeted, searching for words. "Why," she said with a grin, trying to lighten the mood, "I do believe you're nervous!"
Angel gave her a half grin in return. "I haven't done this before," he explained.
"Something Angel hasn't done before? There's a rare event!" Buffy said.
"It happens," he returned. "Are you teasing me?"
"Yup!" she grinned.
"I love you, Buffy."
"I love you, too."
"This isn't exactly the most romantic place for this." Angel paused, sorting out what he was going to say. "This past month has been incredible," he began. "Getting to see sunlight again, with you, to really get to know you and your friends and all the little everyday things I was never a part of before . . . I want it to go on forever." Removing a small box from his pocket, Angel dropped to one knee in front of her. "Buffy," he said, "will you marry me?"
Buffy took the box gently, her hands shaking, and opened it to reveal a ring glinting in the moonlight. As she stared at it in surprised joy, Angel took it from the box and slipped it onto Buffy's finger. Holding her hand in his own, he looked up at her expectantly.
She was about to express her answer most passionately when movement in the darkness distracted her. "Angel, behind you!" she cried, then launched herself off the bench at the vampire creeping up on them. He was a new vampire, an easy kill, but Buffy didn't have time to get in a proper fighting stance before the vampire was on top of them. It delivered a lucky blow that sent her sprawling. As the Slayer scrambled back to her feet, the vampire continued on, concentrating on Angel instead. They both went down, the vampire on top of Angel, who had been unable to get out his stake in time. They grappled in the moonlight, neither of them winning. Suddenly Buffy was on top of them both, and then the vampire was dust, leaving Buffy and Angel alone once again.
They lay there for a long moment in silence, Angel staring up at Buffy.
"So," he said finally, "was that a yes?"
"The time comes," the voice whispered.
The man shuddered with sudden cold. That the voice spoke at all was a surprise. It had not spoken in . . . a long time. Though little scared the man, the voice did, and he trembled. "The time?"
"The Slayer weds."
Facing the darkness fearfully, the man protested. "We already stopped that prophecy for you," he said. "That Slayer is dead."
"No," whispered the voice, "that future has yet to pass."
"Are you sure? I mean, no Slayer -"
"*Do you question me?*"
The man shrank back in terror. "No! Of course not."
There was a long silence. Then, "She is the one," whispered the voice, "that could destroy us both. It can not be clearer."
The man said nothing in response. The voice rose in anger then. "Why have you allowed it to come this far? The Chosen One and one of darkness have been together for years. Must I tell you to do everything?"
"No, of course not!" sputtered the man. "But . . . Angelus had left. We thought there was no problem!"
"He has returned . . . to her."
"Yes," whispered the man.
"You will take care of this . . . problem," said the voice slowly.
"Yes."
The voice sighed. "Good. I don't need to remind you of the consequences to us all if you fail."
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