100 Years:
Long Time No See
by Cynamin

This past century has been the hardest. Everything has moved so fast, changed so much. It's hard to believe this is the same world I grew up in over 350 years ago. Some days I wake up at night and find that I no longer recognize the town that I live in. On those days, I've learned it's time to move on.

It's hard to adjust sometimes. But I've learned. I've had to. Because I'm on my own now, and it's better that way. Better for me, better for those I would be with. I can't watch friends grow old and die . . . I have before and it almost destroyed me. And my continued youth is only a reminder of the evils they fight. So I stay away now. It's like Whistler once said: the more you live in this world, the more you realize how apart from it you really are.

This world . . . this world of computers and information. I live in it as little as possible now. Not from guilt, like I once did, but for my own safety. It's hard, very hard sometimes, to keep secrets from this world. Important secrets, like living forever or near to it. Everywhere you go you can be watched, your movements and habits noted, to be stored in some massive computer somewhere. A hundred years ago they would have called this paranoia. Today, it's a fact of life. It has its advantages, I suppose, like less crime, fewer missing people, and quicker justice. It just makes my undeath very difficult to hide.

Still, there are always those that wish to remain anonymous, whether it is for a moment or forever. And there are places for the "no-names" to gather. No one watches us here. It's not exactly legal, but no one here really cares.

That's where I am tonight, a small club in the basement of what used to be a government building. Like its patrons, the club has no name. It's invitation only, known only by word of mouth, and its location has changed several times. The owner knows me, as much as anyone is known here. For a fee he keeps me informed of activity in this strange secret society of sorts. As a result, fewer of his patrons suffer mysterious deaths.

I don't know if he's ever noted the connection, but that's what I do here and in other clubs like it. I watch for vampires. Somehow I feel responsible for every victim one of my kind kills. These no-name clubs are both a haven and a trap for the anonymous. Fewer notice when a no-name disappears, so these are the new vampire hunting grounds. No one takes notice of the deaths here or really seems to care, so I have to. Besides, perhaps every life that I save somehow makes up for one that I have taken.

Tonight the club is crowded and noisy. It is hard to see the faces under the flickering lights, but that's part of the point of this place. I watch from a darkened corner, drink untouched in my hand. Sooner or later I will see another vampire. Keeping all my senses alert, scanning the crowd again and again, sooner or later I'll be needed.

I spot one early tonight. Amidst the crowd, a lanky man dances with someone I can't see. He smells of other people's blood and his body does not move with breath. As the song comes to an end he leans over to his dancing partner and together they head towards the back exit. With a nod towards the bartender, I leave my drink and follow.

It's difficult to get through the crowd this night, and I worry that I will not reach them in time. That has happened before, and it saddens me when all I can do is take the victim's revenge by killing the vampire. I step out the door and up the stairs and the smell of the alley strikes me hard. The music fades into the background and I am in a city like any other in 100 years, the bad part of town, filthy and overcrowded.

As the last of the music fades from my hearing, another sound takes its place. This, too, is familiar, the sound of fighting. I approach cautiously, stake in hand, ready to either be of assistance or fade back into the shadows.

The vampire's face shows the demon within as he rushes at what was his intended prey. He is met with a well-placed kick that sends him sprawling. Though the girl's form is in deeper shadow, I know what I am watching. The girl is an amazing fighter, incredibly strong, and I know that she is a Slayer. It's been a long time since I've seen a Slayer. The darkness cloaks me, and I only watch.

I can't help but wonder about this Slayer. She could not have been in town long or we would have encountered each other long before this. Does she have family and friends waiting for her, worrying that this will be the night that she doesn't come home? Or is she alone, like the Slayers were once taught to be. In some ways, it hurts to think about it, to think of the Slayer as a person. It brings back bittersweet memories.

The battle is over quickly. With a deft sweep of the leg the vampire is sprawled on his back, and then the Slayer stakes him before he can even realize his change in position. She dusts herself off, then I see her back tense as she senses that she is not alone.

I am about to fade away into the night when something stops me cold. The Slayer stands slowly, her back towards me, her head coming into the light. It shines off her blond hair, and memories of my loss pain me. Then she speaks, like a ghost from the past, which is all she should rightly be.

"You know, being stalked isn't really a big turn on for girls."

Involuntarily, I gasp. It couldn't be, it shouldn't be. . . . "Buffy?"

She turns then, smiling at me like a vision. "Hello, lover," she says. "Long time no see."

One hundred years. One hundred years since we said goodbye. I honestly had never expected to see Angel again. I'd moved on after he left, tried to live a normal life like he wanted me to. Even when I learned that I was Immortal I thought of him only briefly and on occasion. Not because I forgot him over time, but because it hurt too much to remember.

Though he was the only person from my past that could still be alive after all this time, I had never thought to look for Angel. Perhaps I had assumed that he, too, would have left me like everyone else I once knew. Sunlight or stake, good guy, bad guy, or his own choice perhaps I had assumed that something would have killed him since I saw him last.

Yet there he stands, looking like his namesake as he steps from the darkness. Like a vision from the past he is, every inch of him the same as when I last laid eyes on him, with the exception of the modern clothes. I know he sees me much the same, for I too have not aged a day. His eyes are wide with shock and I will mine not to be. I smile and take a step closer, trying not to reveal my own surprise at meeting him here.

Angel takes a step backwards, a hint of fear reflected in his eyes, and I stop my advance. For a moment he holds a stake ready, thinking me to be a vampire. His senses tell him differently, however, for my heart still beats where his does not. He lowers the stake and stares at me, then whispers, "Buffy?"

I smile, trying to keep the mood light, else I fear I might cry. I can't let him know how much I've missed him. How can I let him know what I won't admit to myself? "I thought I'd already acknowledged that."

He shakes his head, and I fear he might run. "What . . . are you?" he asks instead.

Suddenly I feel ridiculous, standing here in an alley covered in vampire dust having a not-so-happy reunion with the only man I ever really loved. "Not here," I say, no longer smiling. I stretch out my hand to him and let my eyes take on only a hint of the pleading hope I begin to feel deep inside. "Please?"

Angel makes no move to take my hand, but he does step closer at last. Knowing he will follow I begin to make my way to my hotel. It's not far, only a quick ride from the nearest transport stop. We sit next to each other on the transport and I can almost not bear the tension. I can feel him looking at me, studying me as if expecting me to disappear any moment. I try to meet his eyes with my own, but he turns quickly away.

"Why, Angel," I try to tease, "are you afraid of me?"

Still he looks away. "Yes," he replies, "a little."

I take this moment to study him in return. It is very eerie to see that he has not changed one bit. From dark hair and sad eyes to the muscular build of his body, all is as I remember so very well. It is almost surreal to see someone so completely from the past against the backdrop of the future.

The transport comes to a stop and I stand to indicate that it is time to leave. Gently, without thinking about it, I place my hand on Angel's shoulder. He flinches away and stares at me and I pull my hand quickly back. Slowly he rises to join me, and then we walk off, the transport leaving us behind.

We are in the hotel now and I can think of nothing at all to say. So instead I simply take the lead, trying to ignore the occasional looks of fear and distrust that Angel casts at me. Finally I have to ignore that he's there at all, or I'll loose it long before I get to the room. I nod to the employee behind the desk, who smiles in return. I see her jot down in her computer that I have returned and that I have brought a guest with me. Still silent, I lead Angel through the corridors of the hotel. The door to the room opens for me when I get outside, and now we are truly alone.

I make my way across the room to sit in a chair but this time Angel makes no move to follow. He simply stands just inside the door looking at me, his eyes full of distrust and sadness that pains me more than I'm willing to show. I meet his gaze as calmly as I can and wait for Angel to speak.

Finally he does so, repeating his question from earlier. "What are you?"

I answer the only way I can. "Immortal."

He stares at me for a moment before replying. "If you are who you appear to be, you'd have to be," he says softly.

It hurts, Angel not trusting me to even be myself. If I had ever dreamed of a reunion, this is not how I would have imagined it. I reach out my hand to him again and my heart aches as he makes no move to come closer. If it is to end like this I fear I won't be able to stand it. Perhaps it was better to think I was all alone. "Please?" I beg.

He finally takes a step farther into the room and I feel my heart warm. Even with the suspicion in his eyes it feels so good to see a familiar face. Finally he comes close and sits on the edge of the bed near me, waiting for me to speak.

"I'm not a vampire," I say finally, "or anything similar. I'm not . . . I didn't make some demonic pact and I'm not evil or anything. I'm still me . . . I am Buffy. I'm just immortal."

For a moment I see hope glimmer in his eyes before the distrust grudgingly replaces it again, and this gives me hope as well. I know now that he wants to believe me, and I have to seize on that. So I begin to speak quickly about how we first met. I watch the suspicion melt from his eyes as I speak of meeting him for the second time in the crypt, and my voice starts to break as I remember the words we'd shared.

*"I have friends down there. Don't you know what it's like to have a friend?"*

I know how he felt now. Having seen my friends die, I know how he felt. I try to continue but I can't force the words past the lump in my throat. Trying not to cry, not to feel like this, I hang my head to avoid looking at Angel.

"Buffy?" he asks again softly, and I look up to meet his eyes. There are tears in them and the distrust is gone. He takes my hand gently in his and I look back at him, tears in my eyes as well.

"Yeah," I say, and then he takes my hand, pulling me to sit next to him on the bed. I sit next to him for only a moment before clasping him in a tight embrace, and my heart leaps as he returns it. Burying my head in his shoulder, I finally allow myself to cry. All the emotions I had suppressed come out now in a flood. "I've been so lonely," I sob.

Angel holds me tightly in return, and I feel his tears wet my hair. "God, Buffy," he says, his voice breaking as well, "I've missed you so much."

As my sobs come to a shaky stop, I simply sit there, comfortable in his arms like I haven't been in so very long. It feels so nice just to be held. I pull away slightly, just enough so that I can see his face. Though his face is streaked with tears, he smiles, and his eyes shine with happiness. Hesitantly, I kiss him, and am pleased as he returns it. Our kiss quickly becomes passionate, and I close my eyes, imagining that we never said goodbye.

Suddenly, Angel pulls away from me and sits back. His eyes are sad as he says, "Buffy, no. I . . . can't. We can't."

I frown for a moment, but I understand. Sitting back as well, I hold his hands in my own. "Angel," I say calmly, "please. I need someone. I need a friend. I'm tired of being lonely."

Angel shakes his head. "Being 'friends' never worked for us," he says sadly. "That's part of why I left in the first place."

"I remember," I say, pained at the memory. "I remember all your reasons. And I understood them." I stop for a moment and scoot even closer to him if that's possible. "But most of those reasons don't apply anymore."

"Oh?" He seems doubtful.

"I don't need someone to grow old with," I explain, "because I won't grow old. I need someone else who'll be young forever. I don't need someone I can marry and have children with - I can't have children. I think . . . I know you're what I need, Angel. I can't go back to being alone. Can you?"

Angel shakes his head. "No, I can't," he acknowledges. "I don't want to. But what about the rest? You need someone who can love you without anything getting in the way. I'm still a vampire. And there's still the curse." He sounds resigned to these truths.

I can't help but smile. "Is that what you're worried about?" I ask, pulling away. "Your curse?" I stand and walk away from the bed.

"Yeah," he replies with a sad smile. "It does kind of stand in the way of us being together." His eyes follow me as I cross the room. "Where are you going?"

I open the top dresser drawer and pull out a framed picture. "To get this," I say, bringing it back to the bed. It's an old photograph of Xander, Willow, and myself, taken not long after we first met. I look at the picture sadly for a moment, then turn it over to open the back of the frame. Carefully I take out a piece of paper folded and placed there by me long ago. It's discolored some but still readable, and that's all I need. "This is for you," I say, handing him the paper.

Unfolding the paper carefully, Angel's eyes widen as he reads the Latin and English text of the old computer print out. "Is this. . . ?" he asks, and I nod.

"Willow wrote it," I explain with a slight smile for friends gone. "It was over 50 years ago, she decided to try and write her own spell. She worked on it for a long time until she was sure it would work and was as simple to cast as possible. No one knew where you were by then, though, or even how to begin to find you. So she gave it to me. And now I give it to you." I allow myself a genuine smile and aim for comfort. "I've never cast a spell, but I think we can do this."

Angel's smile warms my heart like nothing else possibly could as he realizes what he holds. "This will really work?" he asks, an expression of hope secure on his face. "I won't be able to loose my soul again?"

"Happiness without repercussions," I reply with a grin. "What's lack of sunlight and unique dietary choices compared to that? You being a vampire never stood in our way before." I lean into his shoulder, and he holds me with his arm that does not hold the spell. "Stay with me, Angel?"

Angel looks at me and then kisses me gently. "Forever," he says.

Forever. I like the sound of that.

The End

I planned to make this a trilogy. Do you like that idea?

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