Sitting in the hotel room, Buffy wondered at the sudden turn of events that had taken hold of her life. Nearly 100 years ago, Buffy Summers, the Slayer, had discovered that she was Immortal. Except for occasional contact she had faded from her friends' lives, moving on to a new life all her own. The only thing was, as time went by she became very lonely. As her friends had died she found herself completely alone. She had a couple of other acquaintances that she had made over time, but in interest of keeping her secrets she had never really tried to get close to them. She let vampire slaying become her life, traveling from town to town and quietly hunting the undead. Gradually, she allowed herself to no longer care about loneliness, deciding it was better to be alone.
Then, a week ago, she had arrived in Washington D.C. on the trail of a small band of vampires. As usual, she had checked herself into a local hotel, then gone to find the local scene. She had expected to find vampires. She hadn't expected to find one in particular.
Angel. He had been the first - and only, really - love of her life. A good vampire, and the only one who fit that description that Buffy had ever encountered. Cursed about 200 years ago with the return of his soul, forced to suffer for his past crimes else that soul would be lost. A little over 100 years ago they had fallen in love. 100 years ago, they had said goodbye.
Now Buffy watched as Angel sat on the floor of the hotel room - their hotel room - studying a piece of paper he held in his hand. It was a spell, one that would enable him to keep his soul no matter what. They both deserved happiness, something that for one reason or another they had long been denied.
She could not help but smile. This past week had been the best since . . . well, in a very long time. Just being with someone, someone she could really talk to, to not have to keep secrets from. They had spent so much of the last week just talking. And touching, holding hands, rarely moving from the other's side. They just couldn't get enough of simply being together. Once they had run into each other, it was clear they never wanted to be apart again. Never. They had both been alone - and lonely - for far too long.
One week. Already it felt like they'd been here forever. Maybe that was because it felt like they'd never been apart. Nothing about Angel had changed since Buffy had seen him last. He looked exactly the same - tall, dark and handsome, the years having left him untouched. Just a glance at him and her heart practically ached she loved him so much. 100 years apart and he still made her feel like no one else could. 100 years, and she couldn't stand to be apart from him for another moment. This time, nothing would stand in their way.
Angel glanced up at her and smiled. "Hey," he said softly in greeting.
"Hey, yourself," Buffy replied. She sat across from him and placed a single thick candle between them. "Are you ready?"
Sparing one more glance at the words, Angel put the paper aside. "Yeah, I am," he said. "Are you?"
Buffy fought the urge to giggle. Nerves, she told herself. She'd never cast a spell before. She smiled. "I've had that spell memorized for . . . 60 years now. We've got the candle, we've got the herbs . . . I've got you. If I'm not ready to do this now, I don't think I'll ever be." Buffy reached over and took Angel's hand. "This is going to work," she said.
Angel nodded, and Buffy took that as her cue to begin. It was a surprisingly simple spell, partially because it was built on the framework of an existing one. It wasn't like a whole new spell, but rather just made an existing spell - this specific spell, on Angel's soul - unbreakable. Rather like adding crazy glue to something that had already been taped together. Or maybe cement. The spell would work best with both of them casting it, but Buffy could do it on her own if Angel forgot the words or something. All Angel had to do was be there. By the end somehow they would know whether or not it worked. Basically, something would happen or it wouldn't.
They were ready. Buffy gave Angel's hand a slight squeeze before releasing it to light the candle. She concentrated for a moment on what they were hoping to do, then she began to speak, Latin phrases calling for the attention of the appropriate Powers, asking for them to see the curse that had twice been cast on Angel, and to change it into a blessing. Angel repeated after her in English, pinching a small amount of the first herb into the flame. It scented the air strangely. Buffy swore she could feel the magic starting, and concentrated on her words. . .
. . . and then someone knocked on the door.
Buffy's concentration shattered, and with it the air of magic. The candle flame flickered and went out.
"If this isn't really important, someone's dead," Buffy muttered. Rising, she went to the door and said, "Yes?"
"Buffy Summers?" asked a British male voice on the other side of the door.
Buffy frowned. She didn't think she'd given the hotel clerk her real name. "This is her," she said warily.
"The Slayer?" came the voice again.
She nearly tore the door open. The man standing there looked rather flustered, but calmed quickly. Before Buffy could say anything he pressed an envelope into her hand. "Ms. Summers," he said. "You have been summoned by the Watchers Council."
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