Part Three
Through
the hourglass I saw you.
In
time you slipped away.
When
the mirror crashed I called you
And
turned to hear you say,
“If
only for today, I am unafraid.
Take
my breath away.”
They had not closed the curtains when they had fallen asleep the night before, and the midmorning sunlight shone brightly across the bed. Buffy stretched, smiled and rejoiced in sunlight’s warm embrace before she even opened her eyes. She sighed, awoke, and blinked for a second in the brightness. She watched the dust motes dance, glittering in the space between the window and the bed. So much that famous Irish rain; it was yet another sunny and unusually warm day.
Buffy, now awake, could not wait to get the day started. She and Angel were going into Galway City today to wander the narrow streets that now made up the shopping district. She wanted to hear from him the way the city used to be, to learn about the places where he’d been centuries ago. Everyday, she learned a little bit more about the man who was now her husband.
“Angel,” Buffy said softly, rolling to face him.
He did not stir. Some time in the night or early morning he had practically burrowed into the blankets, pulling them up until only the top of his head was showing. Buffy chuckled to herself.
“Angel,” she said a little louder, gently shaking the lump she assumed was his shoulder.
Angel groaned and rolled a bit away from her.
“Wake up, sleepy head,” she insisted.
“Buffy...” Angel complained sleepily, his voice muffled by the comforter. Still, he moved, and emerged from the blankets. He blinked momentarily in the brightness, winced, and then went back under the covers. “Could you just close the curtains?” he requested.
“It’s a beautiful day,” Buffy pointed out.
“Please...” he said, sounding a bit pitiful.
Buffy smiled and climbed out of bed to do as he requested. Moments after the curtains were closed and the room was enveloped in darkness, Angel let out a small sigh and his head emerged from the covers. Buffy grinned at him. “Good morning,” she said happily, coming to sit back on the bed.
“Morning,” Angel said softly, still quite sleepy. He didn’t look too well, his expression more than just tired and his complexion pale under the faint tan he’d started to acquire.
“Are you okay?” Buffy asked gently.
Angel just made some completely unintelligible noise.
Buffy reached over to him, her hand lightly touching his forehead. “You might have a slight fever,” she said.
Angel’s lips quirked. “A downside to being semi-human,” he said.
Buffy smiled back at him. “Yeah.” She ran her hand along his unusually warm brow. “Why don’t I get food brought to us this morning?”
Angel sat up in bed and shrugged. “I don’t know if I’m going to eat anything,” he said simply.
“You should try,” Buffy insisted. “A little bit of food, a little bit of blood...”
“You’re awfully calm about this,” Angel observed.
“You’re not the first person to get sick,” Buffy pointed out. “The first half-vampire, probably, which allows for the blood addition, but I don’t see how this should be so different.”
About fifteen minutes later, both of them were dressed and the small table across the room had on it a small pot of coffee, a basket of scones and brown bread, butter and jam, two bowls of porridge, and a container of blood from the local butcher for Angel. They sat together in comfortable silence, Buffy happily eating her breakfast, Angel following suit a bit slower. He didn’t look like he was feeling any better now that he was awake. In fact, the longer he was up the less well he looked. Buffy was just about to call the day quits and confine them both to the hotel room.
Angel didn’t complain, though. Slowly, he worked on the breakfast put before them, both the food and the blood. He tried to smile reassuringly at Buffy.
His false smile was dropped nearly as soon as he tried it. Stopped just short of reaching for a sip of his blood, Angel’s eyes went wide and he dashed to the bathroom, where his stomach proceeded to rid itself of everything he’d consumed that morning. Buffy pushed her food away, and followed him into the open bathroom once it seemed his retching was finished.
Angel was rinsing out his mouth in the sink, now looking absolutely miserable. “Now that is part of being alive I could have done without,” he grumbled.
Buffy gave him a small, sympathetic smile. “I know the feeling,” she said. “Come on – we’re not going anywhere today, and you should get back in bed.”
Angel did not protest as she led him back into the room.
At first, Buffy had thought it was just your average stomach bug. A little time, a little rest, and plenty of fluids and he should be okay, right?
Of course, Angel was pretty good at going against people’s assumptions.
As midday rolled around, Angel looked decidedly worse. By early afternoon, he spent most of his time completely out of it and when he was awake...well, he wasn’t much more with it than when he was asleep. It absolutely terrified Buffy. She knew he hadn’t been feeling perfect most of the time since they’d been here. But this sudden, swift decline...
It was reminding Buffy eerily of the time he was poisoned and almost died.
Except then, she had friends around her to find out what was wrong, and how to fix it. This time... I can’t take him to a doctor. I mean, what kind of doctor could I take him to? He’s not quite alive, he’d definitely not normal, he still needs to consume blood to survive... How the Hell would they diagnose him?
But if she could not take him to the hospital, perhaps the same people as helped him before could do so again. Now how in the world do you call the U.S. from here?
Willow was on her way out the door when the phone rang a bit after ten o’clock. Xander, Anya, and Tara were waiting for her at the beach, and for a moment Willow considered just letting the phone ring. Her conscience got the better of her, though, and she managed to answer it just before the answering machine would have picked it up.
“Uh...hello?” she said a bit breathlessly.
“Willow, thank god you’re there!” came the urgent voice on the other end.
Willow blinked. “Buffy? What’s wrong? And why are you calling me when you’re supposed to spending time with your new husband?” If Buffy hadn’t sounded so upset, Willow would have grinned. She’d missed Buffy in the several days she’d been gone.
“Angel’s sick,” Buffy said quickly.
Willow frowned to herself. “He’s almost human now,” she said, not quite understanding. “He can get sick, I guess. I mean, I’m not sure, but...I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about.” Buffy was calling her from overseas for this? How much was this phone call costing her?
Buffy’s voice got a bit louder, obviously upset now. “No, no,” she said. “I don’t mean ‘gee, I have a sniffle and should get some cold medicine’ sick. I mean ‘maybe I should rush to the hospital’ sick. I think something is really, really wrong, and I don’t know what to do!”
“Buffy, calm down,” Willow said gently. Mentally she began to run through her magical knowledge and the old medical textbooks she’d read. “Tell me what exactly is wrong.”
Buffy let out a long sigh. “He hasn’t been feeling well since soon after we got here,” she said, fighting to stay calm. “He didn’t want me to know, but...this morning it was worse. He had a slight fever, he threw up...and then it just got worse from there. Willow, he’s all feverish and asleep and I’m really worried.”
“I don’t know what to tell you,” Willow said gently. “I mean...this is the sort of thing you need a doctor for. Not an international phone call.”
“I can’t take him to a doctor!” Buffy said, even more upset.
She had a point there. “Buffy, if this had a magical cause, I might be able to help you, but....”
“The spell crystal is flickering,” Buffy said abruptly.
“What?!” Willow said, sitting down quickly. She was terrified that something might go wrong because of a spell she cast. Again. Especially when this one seemed to have been doing so well! “Why didn’t you tell me that earlier?”
“Because I just thought to check, okay?” Buffy snapped. Then she sighed. “I’m sorry, I’m....”
“Worried. I got that. I don’t blame you,” Willow said quickly.
Her friend was silent for a moment. “You don’t think something could be...interfering with the spell, do you?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” Willow admitted.
“Please, Willow,” Buffy pleaded.
“I...uh....” Willow swallowed hard as she thought. “If this has supernatural causes, there should be some sort of trigger, right? Anything unusual happen before you left?”
Buffy let out a wry chuckle. “I got married, remember?”
Yeah, sure, that wasn’t something you do every day. But still.... “Anything else?”
“Uh...” A long pause as Buffy thought. “Spike showed up at the party,” she said suddenly. “He gave us presents, actually.”
“What did he give you?” Willow asked, surprised.
Another pause. “A pair of matched swords. And...” She did not finish the sentence.
“And what?”
“Willow....”
“Buffy, I can’t help you if you don’t tell me,” she said.
“Sex toys,” Buffy forced out. “Weapons and sex toys. Okay?”
Willow felt herself turning bright red. “Have you used them?”
“Willow!”
“Well?” Willow prodded.
“No!” Buffy said quickly, then added, “Neither one.”
“Oh.”
“I don’t know how long I can talk,” Buffy said suddenly. “I bought a phone card, and I don’t know how many minutes it has, and...”
“It’s okay. It’s okay,” Willow said, trying to calm her.
“No it’s not!” Buffy replied, her worry coming out full force.
“Then it will be okay, alright?” Willow tried. “I’ll call Giles. I’ll call every body. We’ll go over spells, we’ll research, we’ll look at the wedding presents....”
“Can’t you do anything now?” Buffy asked.
“I don’t know what to do now,” Willow said helplessly. “I’m sorry.”
Buffy let out a long sigh. “Whatever you do,” she said softly but sternly, “do it quickly. If he keeps getting worse....”
“We’ll do everything we can from here,” Willow promised.
“Good,” Buffy said, and the call cut off.
On to Part
Four
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