A Slayer Born -- BtVS/AtS PG-ish
May. 25th, 2006 07:24 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
phantismaI mentioned in my main journal yesterday that I had been bitten by another plot bunny...I'm not sure I'm done with this...and there's definately some porn-y potential here that I haven't gotten into...but for now, I humbly offer this:
Title: A Slayer Born
Fandom: BtVS/AtS
Pairings: Willow/Faith, Angel/Angelus/Wesley/Buffy (you'll have to read it to get that)
Rating: PG-ish
Setting: After the End of AtS
Summary: Ummm...Okay, Five years have passed since the events that ended AtS...Faith and Willow are together, and Illyria's breakdown at the end of the battle had some serious consequences...which leads to a catatonic Slayer and a dead man sharing the body of a vampire...or something...
The front door snicked shut and the long quiet was disconcerting. Despite the wound still healing in her belly, Faith pushed herself up out of bed and shuffled to the door of the bedroom. Willow had been gone only an hour or so, and she hadn’t expected the red head to be back for several hours.
She stood there in the front hall of the apartment, her head bowed, her forehead against the door. Faith could feel the grief wafting off of her. “Hey, Red.”
Willow glanced her way, wiping at tears behind the fall of red hair that mostly hid her face. Faith froze. She could feel the grief that shook Willow’s world. These days, what shook Willow shook Faith too. She took a quick breath and exhaled slowly, not wanting to tread on the tender emotion. “No go with the mojo?”
Willow shook her head miserably. “No.”
Faith could tell she’d been crying, probably blaming herself, the same way she had for the last five years. Very little rendered Willow mono-syllabic, in fact other than her tongue in the right place, Faith couldn’t think of anything that did…until now. Willow moved her way and Faith caught her hand when she got close enough. “You knew it was a long shot.” Willow wouldn’t meet her eyes, even when Faith kissed her hand, turning it over to press her lips against her palm, letting her tongue tickle the skin. “Help me back to bed.”
Willow slipped an arm around the Slayer’s back and pulled her to lean against her as they made their way back into the bedroom they shared. “You shouldn’t have gotten up.” Willow said as Faith settled back into the pillows.
“My girl needed me.” Faith said, patting the bed beside her. “Did you see the others?”
Willow shook her head. “I couldn’t bear it, not after seeing her that way.” She slipped into bed beside Faith, letting Faith guide her to a position with her head on the Slayer’s shoulder.
“Give me an hour or so to sleep, and we’ll go together.”
“Are you sure you’re up to it?”
“Will be. Slayer healing, remember?”
“Oh!” Willow exclaimed, sitting up suddenly, sending her lapful of books cascading to the floor. Faith woke, one hand slipping under her pillow for the knife she kept there. She relaxed when she saw Willow. “Oh!” Willow said again, her face animated with that discovery face Faith had come to find enduring. The slayer looked up from her place on the bed and quirked an eyebrow at her.
“Wanna share with the class, Red?”
Willow looked at her, wiping at the stray strands of hair that fell into her face and tucking them behind her ears. “I know how to fix it.” Willow stood up excitedly and moved over to the bed. Faith smiled at her, loving the way the late evening sun streaming in the window set her red hair ablaze.
“Okay…” Faith shrugged and Willow rolled her eyes.
“Just now, it came to me. I can make them better.”
Faith sat forward now, regretting it as her ribs twinged. Slayer healing or no, the constant damage to that one spot was weakening her. It wasn’t healing as fast anymore. She knew exactly who Willow meant though.
“No shit?”
“No shit.”
“How?”
Willow made a face and dropped her gaze. “It’s complicated…and not entirely white light and puppies magic. But I totally know how. They’d be good as new. Better.” Her eyes sparkled and Faith couldn’t help but smile.
“What do you need?”
Willow sat back and thought about that. “The full moon, a talisman of Carmar, the blood of a Slayer…that isn’t Buffy…Oh…something that belonged to each of them.”
Faith nodded. “Full moon is in two days. I’m you’re slayer, we know where to find B…and…” She gingerly got up off the bed and moved to the closet. She moved aside the odd assorted clothing that was part leather, part chenille and somehow represented what the two of them had come to be together. Behind that, the back wall of the closet had been converted to hold their weapons. She ran a hand lovingly over a blade that had been too pretty to leave behind all those years ago.
He’d never really given it to her. Thrown it to her in the heat of battle that day, stained with his blood, dripping with the gore of those he’d killed and she’d used it to cut her way through a never-ending swath of demons to get to him. Not that it had mattered in the end.
Faith closed her eyes against the memory and closed her hand over the hilt of the blade. She pulled it from the wall and turned. “This was his.” she said softly, holding it out for inspection.
Willow nodded and came to her, a hand sliding up to cup Faith’s cheek in a gesture of affection that sometimes made Faith roll her eyes. Not this time though. Faith’s free hand rose up to hold that hand, and she made no move to step away when Willow stepped closer and took her in her arms, kissing her softly. “Its okay.” Willow whispered and Faith nodded.
After a moment they both stepped away. “I can’t help you with the talisman thing though...or anything of…you know…for the others.” Faith said as she sat back down on the bed.
Willow held the sword and shook her head. “That’s okay. I know where to get what I need. I’ll have it tomorrow.”
Faith nodded and returned to laying down. Her body ached from the fight the day before. The fight they shouldn’t have had that much trouble winning. She was beginning to think that retiring wasn’t a bad idea. She snickered at the thought. Before Willow’s nifty trick with activating all the Slayers none of them ever lived to retire. Ever. She shook her head at Willow’s questioning look. “Stupid idea.” Faith muttered and Willow smiled.
“Never.”
“Oh, yeah.” She smiled and threw a pillow at Willow. “You’re the smart one in this relationship.”
“Well, I won’t argue there.” Willow said with a smile. “Seriously, you okay? I should go, check on them.”
Faith nodded. “I’ll come with.”
“You need your rest.”
“I’m fine.”
“I saw the look when you sat up.” Willow’s expression pinned Faith to the spot, all business and she knew Faith better than Faith wanted to admit.
“I don’t want you to go alone. Not after B. You’ll blame yourself…again.”
“No blame. I promise.”
“You’ll wallow in the memory, especially if they’re coherent.”
“No wallowing. Just a visit to make sure they’re physically able to do this.”
“You sure?”
Willow nodded and tucked her hair behind her ear again. “I won’t be long, and you need to be on the top of your game if you’re going to help me.”
“Okay, but you be careful.”
“Always.” Willow kissed Faith on the forehead and left the room.
As the door closed behind her, Faith let out the breath she had been holding. The memories wouldn’t let her wallow; they weren’t gentle enough for that. They came crashing over her and she held herself as hot tears burned down her face.
It wasn’t sanctioned, but then Faith had never needed the Watcher’s Council’s sanctioning to do anything. She owed him, and that was all that mattered. She set up her Slayer kids with a babysitter she trusted and skipped out of Cleveland, just as soon as she’d found out what was going down in LA. The battle wasn’t hard to find. All she’d had to do was follow the dragon, and the screaming.
Faith tried in vain to push it away, the look on his face when he’d seen her, half relief, half fear…the way his hands trembled as they fell beneath the onslaught…the way he’d called Buffy’s name, but held her hand as his blood dripped from more wounds than she could even see, and then Buffy and Red had come, the blue demon-God thing Illyria had filled the air with rage. The air crackled with magic, red and blue and blinding as Red had tried to shield them…and it was suddenly over and quiet but for the gasping and bleeding and dying…and the not dying.
LA had looked like a battleground, with dead demons and humans and vampire dust for miles. Faith took a deep breath and shook her head to clear it. It had been a long five years, and so much had changed, not the least of which was this thing with Red. Four years since they’d kissed in the rain in London. Faith hadn’t meant anything by it at the time, and yet, here they were, sharing a flat a few blocks from Watcher’s headquarters.
Faith swallowed and tucked the memory bomb back into her head. It was hard to believe they were still feeling the casualties of that day. For five years, Willow had visited B in the Watcher’s hospital, working every last bit of magic she and the coven could come up with. Still, the Slayer lay, unmoving, eyes open. It could have easily have been Faith. Spike had saved her the fate when he pulled her from Angel’s side seconds before Buffy had landed there. Faith took a deep breath and closed her eyes, praying for sleep without nightmares.
Willow let herself into the basement of Watcher Headquarters, slipping silently through the dark. She knew the way well enough that she had no need of a light. She’d come here every night for months, in the early days. She stopped outside the bars and looked in. “Angel? Its Willow.”
It had been almost a month since she’d been here last. Angelus had driven her from the room with his taunts and laughter. He was growing stronger while the others grew weaker. Yet another reason Willow needed to fix this.
The dark form on the bed inside the cell stirred, but didn’t respond. “Angel?” She moved around the side of the cell where she could see more closely. With a deep breath, she chose a different approach. “Wesley?”
The head came up this time, followed by the rest of him. He looked haggard, his clothes torn and ratty. It was Angel’s face, but somehow it was Wesley’s expression. “Willow?” The voice was Angel’s too, though it was colored with Wesley’s English accent. She smiled through sudden tears. She hadn’t been expecting Wesley. Of the three of them, he came through so seldom.
“Yes, how are you?”
He stood, shuffling toward her slowly. “Incredibly tired. I want to…but Angel…won’t let me…he wants me to hold on.”
“Don’t let go, Wes, not now. I’ve got an idea. I can fix this.”
He looked at her through Angel’s face and she could almost see his own blue eyes smiling at her. “It isn’t yours to fix.”
“It is. I did this…or I helped do this. I have a plan. I just need you to hold on for a few more days, okay?”
He sighed. “Illyria did this, Willow. You can’t expect—“
“Hey, powerful witch here, telling you to pipe down. I have a plan.”
He nodded, then rubbed his face. “I really am tired.”
“I know. I’m sorry.” She had so much to explain, now that she’d figured it out, but the look on his face was so sad, so despondent.
“I’m going now.”
“Okay. Just hang on okay, Wes?”
He nodded, then his posture shifted, his shoulders slumped and the English accent went away. “Willow?”
“Angel?”
“For the moment.”
“I have a plan.”
“I heard.”
She stepped a little closer to the bars. She knew she needed to tell him about Buffy, but couldn’t find the words. “I saw Buffy earlier,” she said softly.
“Any change?”
She started to shake her head no. “It will work out.” Her voice was quiet, but determined. “I can make this work.”
“Willow, don’t…don’t do anything…”
She smiled at him, but it was weak. “I can handle this, Angel. As spells go it’s easier than the one to re-soul you. There’s just a few more components to this one.”
He hung his head and nodded. “Do you need anything?”
His voice was gravelly and his eyes closed. He swallowed and stepped back a pace. She knew the look on his face well enough. Angelus was fighting to get out. “You should go,” he said heavily.
“I-I’ll be back in two days. Everything will work out.”
Angel offered her a brief smile, then shook his head. “I can’t keep him…go.”
Willow stepped back from the bars and nodded. “Two days.”
“Can’t wait.” His face changed and he licked sharp fangs. She didn’t even stop to comment, just beat a retreat and headed up to the office level.
Somewhere up there was a box with odds and ends of items that had once belonged to Angelus, some of it ancient, some of it more recent. All she needed to do was locate that box and find the one trinket that would let her isolate the demon from the others.
An hour later, she let herself into a storage room with a little magic on the lock and located the box. There wasn’t much in it, some drawings and a bloody handkerchief. Wrapped up in the handkerchief was what she was looking for. The ring was a lot like another she had taken to wearing on a chain around her neck, though this one was old and the gold tarnished with blood. She tucked the ring into a pocket and headed for home. She had two days to put together all the elements of the spell. Two days to set something right that she’d been trying to fix for five years.
“Tell me again what we’re doing?” Faith said as she watched Willow setting up her supplies. Faith leaned against the stretcher that held the motionless body of her sister Slayer. Inside the cage, Angelus paced, growling.
Willow was counting steps as she set out crystals and she stopped to look at Faith with an expression that had Faith holding up her hands and shaking her head. “I’m just saying. I trust you and everything…but…even I think this is crazy.”
Willow finished her circuit around the cage and set her last crystal. “I know. It’s our last shot at giving them a chance to be normal.”
Faith snorted. “If you can call what you’re proposing normal.”
Willow looked wounded, and Faith kicked herself mentally. As bad as that day had been for Faith, its aftermath had hurt Willow more. She stepped closer and kissed Willow’s nose. “It’s good, babe, just not normal.”
Willow’s sigh was heavy and filled with much more than air. “Illyria couldn’t save Wesley’s body, but she absorbed his…essence, only she couldn’t deal with it, not on top of Fred’s memories and emotions. When she released him, she meant for him to return to his own body, to die.”
“But he ended up in our boy here, I know this much.”
Willow nodded. “Okay, so I finally figured out why…which means I can separate them.”
“You gonna tell me why?” Faith asked with a grin, her arms circling Willow’s waist and pulling her close.
Willow’s smile was soft. “Illyria was confused by Fred’s emotion for Wesley, and Wesley was confused with the dying, but not and existing in Illyria with Fred’s memories…and his body was across the city, but something else was nearby, something that drew him.”
“This is about the ring?” Faith looked at Angel’s hand where the object in question rested. It wasn’t a traditional Claddagh, but a modernized, stylized version in silver. Faith vaguely recalled seeing it on Wesley’s hand once.
“It was Wesley’s. He wore it in Sunnydale. I don’t know why Angel was wearing it that day…but…it was enough to lure the confused disembodied Wesley…”
“Have I ever told you what a brilliant little witch you are? Twisted in the extreme, but brilliant.” Faith kissed Willow, their tongues dancing as Faith’s hand cupped the back of her head.
“As touching as this is, and as much as I would love to watch the two of you get it on…” Together Faith and Willow turned to face Angelus who had moved close to the bars. “I’ve had these two losers stuck in here with me forever. Let’s get with the evicting already.”
“Shut up.” Faith said, lifting the gun she’d brought. It made a popping noise as she sent a tranquilizer dart into his shoulder. She smiled as he flipped her off and sank slowly to the ground. “But he’s right, let’s do this thing.”
Faith unlocked the cell and moved inside to check the vampire and make sure he was really out. As Willow moved in behind her to begin her chanting and setting the candles, Faith moved out and wheeled the stretcher into the cell with them. It was disconcerting the way Buffy’s eyes stayed open but there was no life in them. Faith shuddered and turned her eyes away, watching Willow instead. She didn’t really have anything more to do, just the watching, and protecting if Angelus managed to escape the heavy sedation before Willow was done with the mojo…and add her blood when Willow told her to.
“Could you move Angel a little further that way?” Willow asked, as she pulled a glass bottle with a cork stopper from her bag. A ring clattered along the bottom of the bottle as she placed it to complete a triangle formed by the positions of Angel and Buffy.
Willow settled onto the floor in the center of the triangle, holding an odd looking jar and a small gold pendant set with a star sapphire. “First I have to charge the talisman. This is where I need you.” She held the pendant over a black candle and slowly poured a mixture of herbs and sand from the jar. “Ourias mancha aver detcha ourias Carmar.”
The sapphire began to glow and Willow beamed up at Faith. “Now, baby.” Faith nodded, flicking a switchblade out of her pocket to cut her thumb and press it to the surface of the stone. It burned, though Faith couldn’t tell if that was due to the magic or the herbs getting into the wound. “Good.” Willow slipped the glowing talisman over her head. “Now you can get the ring from Angel’s hand, put it on Buffy, left hand.”
Willow made some final preparations in the center of the triangle while Faith took the silver ring on Angel’s hand and moved it to Buffy’s slack finger. “Now the sword.”
Faith moved to Angel’s unconscious form, moving him so he lay flat on his back. She laid the sword over his body, tucking the hilt into his hands. “Now what?”
Willow pulled a chain out from under her sweater, unhooked it and dropped yet another ring into Faith’s hand. “It’s Buffy’s. Just in case. Put it on her right hand.” Faith did as instructed, then looked to Willow again.
“You should stand back, outside the candle circle. I’m protected by the talisman, but you aren’t. Wouldn’t want to slam you into someone else’s body here.”
“Been there, done that. Don’t want the rerun.” Faith said, stepping clear of the candles, but staying inside the cell. “Hey, Red.”
Willow looked up and smiled her best confident smile. “I know. Careful.”
Faith smiled and nodded.
Willow closed her eyes and when she opened them they’d gone black. She began the words of the spell and the air electrified around her, lifting her hair. Faith stepped back even further. Her eyes darted from Willow to Angel and back again. The crystals around the cell began to glow and a circle formed, in white light. The candles followed and a circle of blue light formed inside the cell, leaving Faith standing between them.
Willow’s voice took on a harsher tone and Angel’s body began to shake. The temperature in the room dropped about 15 degrees and Faith could see her breath. She shivered. Angel’s body shook more, then three dots of light rose up out of him. A smaller, paler one rose out of Buffy. They hovered for a moment then began to shoot around the inner circle.
“Anime degra avry idiba!”
There was a blast of cold air and the dots of light shot away, the first diving back into Angel, the second into Buffy, the third into the bottle, which danced around and nearly toppled over before it settled. The last of them, the smallest one hovered a moment longer, before slowly settling back into Buffy’s body. The circles of light collapsed and the electricity drained out of the air.
“Did it work?”
Willow was shaky as she stood and moved over to the bottle, which had a faint glow and seemed to be filled with a greasy grey smoke. “I don’t know.” Her voice was rough and she moved immediately to Angel’s side. “Check Buffy…I mean…” She waved a hand in Faith’s direction as she knelt next to Angel. Her hand shook as she reached out to touch Angel.
Her smile could have blinded, when she looked back up at Faith. “It worked. His heart is beating.”
“What?”
“I wasn’t sure, so I didn’t say.”
“Ugh.” It was Buffy’s voice, but not entirely. Faith leaned over and checked for a pulse.
“This one’s beating too.”
Buffy moved, as if testing the limits of her body. “B?”
“Not exactly.” The eyes opened, not as green as Faith remembered.
“Wesley?” Willow stood slowly as Buffy’s body sat up.
“I think so. Though I don’t exactly feel myself.”
“Not surprising Wes.” Faith said, steadying him/her as he/she listed to one side.
There was a groan behind them and Willow turned. “Willow?”
“Take it easy, Angel.”
“My heart.”
“It’s beating.”
He sat up, then his eyes caught on Buffy/Wesley. His eyes narrowed, then looked to Willow. “Wesley?”
Willow dropped to her knees beside him. “It was the only way, Angel. She wasn’t using it…she hasn’t in so long…and I needed to…you weren’t going to last much longer…and it was the only thing I could think of—“
“Willow, its okay.”
“I don’t know about that.” Wesley/Buffy said, stretching a little before attempting to get to his/her feet.
“And the demon?”
Willow pointed to the bottle. “We’ll need to burn him.”
“Its permanent?”
Willow nodded, stifling a yawn. “Yep. No more Angelus. No more pesky curse. Just you…and Wesley…in two separate bodies.”
Buffy’s hands ran over the body, pausing briefly at her breasts. “Typical.” Faith said with a disgusted snort. “Give a man a woman’s body and his hands go right to his breasts.”
Willow snickered and let Faith put her arms around her. “Me too,” she whispered, her hand sliding up to cup Faith’s breast. Faith pushed the hand away with a roll of her eyes, but kissed Willow.
Wesley crossed the room in Buffy’s body and knelt beside Angel. “This certainly is strange.”
“More strange than five years in here with me?” Angel asked softly. His face was wet with silent tears as he listened to his heart beat.
“No.” Buffy’s hand rose to brush the tears on Angel’s cheek. “Just different.”
“What about Buffy?” Angel asked, searching the blue-green eyes for some sign.
Wesley was quiet a moment. “She’s…here…sort of. Very withdrawn. She…hurts.” His words were merely whispers, the voice strained.
Angel pulled Wesley to him, hugging the familiar body and feeling his body stir. The blood rushed through his heart, and he could hear the slightly faster beating in Wesley’s…Buffy’s body. There was so much to say, so much that could never be said. Five years ago he had sent Wesley off to die, knowing that he loved him and that Wesley felt the same. Five years ago they had kissed in the semi-privacy of the elevator to his penthouse before they had separated. Neither of them had expected to live. Neither of them had expected to be able to touch again. Of course, neither of them had counted on Illyria’s grief or Willow’s…creative streak either.
And who in their right mind would expect to see Wesley looking out at him from Buffy’s eyes.
“Angel—“ Wesley hung Buffy’s head and seemed to search for words. Angel’s hand rose up to caress the familiar cheek, turn those eyes back to him.
The first kiss was tentative, Angel feeling his way past the body of one love to the heart of another. “Oh, this is different.” Wesley said, his English accent turning Buffy’s voice into something very different as well. His hands followed Angels over curves his body would never have had. He closed his fingers over Angel’s hand and pulled it up to kiss the palm. “I think perhaps we should take this slowly.”
“Perhaps.” Angel smiled at him. “We have all the time in the world.”
“You both need to sleep.” Willow said, stifling another yawn. “Your bodies have been through a lot tonight…and you’ve been stretched pretty thin these last few years.”
Faith picked up the bottled demon. “Psych little psycho,” she snickered, swirling the bottle around so that the ring in it clinked around. “Thought you were gonna get that body for yourself, didn’t ya?”
She stared into the swirling grey for a moment then looked back at Willow. “Didn’t I tell you? Brilliant.”
Willow laughed and carefully stood up, moving to gather the important bits. “You guys can crash in our spare room for now. Wesley, I brought some clothes for you, in the gym bag by the door. It would be a long walk in that hospital gown.”
Faith helped Willow clean up as Angel slowly tested his body, stretching limbs carefully before finally climbing to his feet. He felt lighter, warmer. He was also incredibly tired. He looked up as Wesley bent over the gym bag, getting a long look of leg and ass as the hospital gown opened. He felt himself stiffen. He breathed deeply and exhaled slowly. Buffy’s body was still beautiful, even after five years of lying in a catatonic state. He could no longer smell the subtle scents of her skin and hair, but that didn’t seem to matter.
“Hey, Wes, you’re giving a peep show.” Faith said with a smirk, glancing at Angel.
Wesley straightened indignantly and turned his backside to the wall. “Really, Angel!”
“What?” Angel chuckled and shook his head. “It isn’t as if I haven’t seen it all before, Wes.” He crossed the room, circling Wesley’s new waist with his hands and pulling him close.
“Well, you haven’t seen it with me!” He pushed Angel, then gasped as Angel went flying across the cell, landing in a heap against the bars.
Willow rushed over to check on him as Faith reached for Wesley’s hands. “You need to be careful Wes. Not only is that a female body, but the body of a Slayer…and Angel’s mortal now.”
“It gives not knowing your own strength new meaning.” Wesley finally said after a long moment.
“Right. Why don’t I show you where the ladies room is, Slayer.” Faith said as Angel picked himself up and Willow went back to her packing. By the time she’d helped Wesley wriggle into the sweats Willow had brought, Angel and Willow were waiting for them, yawning in unison. “Come on you sleepy heads. Let’s get out of here.”
The sun was rising as they exited the building. Angel held to Wesley’s hand and squinted into the light, remembering a day that he had walked hand in hand with Buffy in the sun, a day that existed only in his memory. They followed the two women wordlessly, alone in their thoughts…only Wesley wasn’t exactly alone. Angel looked at him and wondered if it was the same as it had been when Wesley was inside him. There was no direct communication, just emotions, shared knowledge. Then though there had been the demon too, keeping them fighting just to keep the upper hand.
Buffy’s face was glowing in the early morning light, and Wesley’s smile was only a little sad as he felt Angel’s eyes on him and turned. He felt odd looking up at that face, feeling the hand in his warm. He was the perfect height now to rest his head on Angel’s shoulder. He didn’t know if he was ready for that.
“Here we are.” Willow said, pointing up the steps. Faith held the door and Willow led them in, straight back to a bedroom with a double bed. “It isn’t much, but it’s safe and comfy.”
“It will be fine, Willow.” Wesley said, touching her arm gently. He collapsed onto the bed, his eyes closing almost instantly. “I am going to sleep for a month.”
“I’ll settle for a week.” Angel said, joining him.
“I’ll be just down the hall.” Willow said. She stood for a moment in the door, watching as the two of them migrated to the center of the bed, Buffy’s body finding its way into the curve of Angel’s as they both drifted off to sleep. Faith’s pull on her arm drew her away and she closed the door, following her Slayer to their bedroom and letting her pull her sweater and skirt off before guiding her to the bed.
“You are beautiful.” Faith whispered as she crawled up Willow’s body. “I would ravage you, but I can see you’re exhausted.
Willow considered pouting, but didn’t have the strength. “Ravage later…kiss me now?”
Faith smiled. “Count on it.” Her kiss was fierce and she sucked on Willows lip before the yawn forced her to pull back.
“Do you think they’ll be okay?” Willow asked sleepily as she closed her eyes.
“Angel and Wes?”
“And Buffy.”
Faith was quiet, settling in to lay with her head on Willow’s shoulder. “I don’t know. There’s no real precedent for this.”
“We need to tell the others, the Council.”
Faith thought about that for a minute, imagining what Giles might have said, had he still been around. He would have been angry, and relieved and concerned for his Slayer. The new council was likely to be more forgiving then the earlier versions, but both Angel and Wesley had some serious adjustments to make. “Give them time to adjust, Will.”
But Willow was already asleep, and Faith listened to her breathing for a while before she too drifted toward sleep too.
Wesley’s dreams were filled with Buffy, sullen and dark Buffy…and flashes of memories he knew were not his own. Several in particular played over and over. Buffy died, Buffy revived…the confusion and pain of the final resurrection, the moment she lost Giles, Illyria and the blast that had left them all in a hell no one had dreamed of.
He woke and found himself alone in the bed…as alone as one could get in the same body as another person, he supposed. He rose slowly, and padded over to the mirror on the back of the door. There had been no mirrors to look into when he’d been inside Angel. It wasn’t like he would have seen anything anyway. Buffy’s hair had grown long in the years she had lain unconscious, her body thin. He watched his hand move in the mirror and swipe at the hair hanging in his face. It was a gesture that was reminiscent of the Slayer in her younger days.
He looked into the mirror, into the eyes that were not his own. An oddly intimate moment, as he sensed her there with him in that moment. “Buffy?” he whispered, touching the mirror’s surface as if it were her face.
The reflection smiled back at him. “Always knew you wanted to get into my pants, Wes, but isn’t this going a little far?”
“I-I-well…”
The reflection laughed. “Relax, Wesley. I’m joking.”
Wesley breathed a little easier, but shook his head. “This may be more difficult than I thought.”
“Willow knows what she’s doing…I think,” the reflection said. “I really haven’t been using the body, and you don’t have one…except that now you have mine.”
His hands slid over her body. “It’s beginning to feel more…natural. Last night I felt extremely peculiar.” His hands slid up under the sweatshirt Willow had given him, his hands rubbing her breasts. The nipples stood up perkily and he gasped a little from the sensation.
”Hey!” the reflection of Buffy said indignantly.
“I need to get familiar with my new surroundings.” Wesley said, mostly keeping the tremor out of his voice and the smirk off his face.
“Wesley?” Angel’s voice startled him, and Wesley dropped his hands, turning to find Angel closing the door behind him. “I was wondering…I heard you talking.”
Wesley nodded and turned back to the mirror. “With Buffy.” He gestured with one hand, but the reflection was merely a reflection now, not a talking Buffy. Angel came up behind him and slipped arms around him. For a long moment they stared at the reflection.
“Is she…I mean…”
“Its going to take time.” Wesley said. He closed his eyes. He could feel her there, inside him…around him…no voices in his head, exactly…”We both have some adjustments to make.”
Angel turned him around, tilting his face up to kiss. Warm lips pressed against his and Wesley could taste coffee as his mouth opened to Angel’s tongue. A rush of emotion surged through him, his nipples, already sensitive, brushed Angel’s chest and heat spread through his belly. He ached with desire for more, his hands grabbing at Angel as the kiss deepened and their bodies touched. The kiss devolved into Angel dragging his lips across skin, along his neck. Wesley felt his knees weaken, his right hand grabbed the edge of the desk beside them.
Angel’s lips reached the dip of Buffy’s collarbone and Wesley’s stomach fluttered. There was a distinct feeling or arousal, though it was different than anything he knew…his hand squeezed, breaking the desk corner. They fell apart in surprise at the noise, both of them breathing heavily. “Oh, my.” Wesley dropped the wood and looked at Angel. “I forgot.”
Angel smirked. “Obviously the body didn’t.”
“Yes, obviously.” Wesley was curious now, and wanted nothing more than to undress and explore the strange new feelings, the wetness gathering south of his stomach…but his head was urging caution.
“Everything okay in there?” Willow’s voice called.
“Uh, yeah, Willow. Wesley’s just demonstrating his new found Slayer strength.” Angel said. “We’ll be out in a minute.” He turned back to Wesley. “We thought you might like your first slaying.”
Buffy’s eyebrow arched in an expression that was completely Wesley. “It’s almost sunrise, Angelus is impatient.”
Angel held the door and Wesley followed the sounds of Faith and Willow making breakfast. “Hey sleepyhead.” Willow said, coming out of the kitchen to hug him. “We though you were joking about the sleeping for a month thing.”
“I wasn’t out a month.”
“No, just 24 hours.” Faith said, handing him a cup of coffee. “I wasn’t sure how you were going to want it…sweet and creamy like B or hot and black like you…so I compromised…it’s black and sweet.”
“Thank you.” He took a sip, then cocked his head. “That is actually quite nice.”
He turned to the see Angel staring at the corked bottle. “Hard to believe he’s right there.” Angel murmured. “Balcony faces east.” He offered Wesley the bottle.
“Are you sure you don’t want to…”
“Together?”
Wesley nodded, setting aside his coffee for the bottle. Together he and Angel moved out onto the balcony. The sun was just starting to show itself over the buildings to the east. The demon in the bottle shook, trying to knock it loose from Wesley’s hands. He held it tighter, and took Angel’s hand. Together they faced the coming sun until it was visible in orange and yellow day-glow over the nearest building. Wesley held up the bottle, shaking it a little. A tiny flame started inside, consuming the grey smoke and leaving a layer of dust over the ring.
“A Slayer is born.” Angel said, smiling as he kissed Wesley’s nose.
“I’m not certain born is the right term.” Wesley said in response, setting the bottle on the small table in the corner of the balcony as Angel moved back inside to help set the table.
“A Slayer born…I like that.” Wesley turned. Buffy’s reflection smiled at him from the sliding glass door.
“If I’m to be a Slayer, I’m going to need you.” Wesley said.
The smile faded a little. “I know. I’m working on it.”
It was his turn to smile. “I know. We have time.”
She nodded, then his reflection was his own again.
“No, my life isn’t too complicated at all,” he whispered to himself. His stomach rumbled and he remember this body hadn’t eaten solid food in a very long time. With a deep breath, he left the balcony, embracing what he’d been given, and the odd little family that had given it to him.
Title: A Slayer Born
Fandom: BtVS/AtS
Pairings: Willow/Faith, Angel/Angelus/Wesley/Buffy (you'll have to read it to get that)
Rating: PG-ish
Setting: After the End of AtS
Summary: Ummm...Okay, Five years have passed since the events that ended AtS...Faith and Willow are together, and Illyria's breakdown at the end of the battle had some serious consequences...which leads to a catatonic Slayer and a dead man sharing the body of a vampire...or something...
The front door snicked shut and the long quiet was disconcerting. Despite the wound still healing in her belly, Faith pushed herself up out of bed and shuffled to the door of the bedroom. Willow had been gone only an hour or so, and she hadn’t expected the red head to be back for several hours.
She stood there in the front hall of the apartment, her head bowed, her forehead against the door. Faith could feel the grief wafting off of her. “Hey, Red.”
Willow glanced her way, wiping at tears behind the fall of red hair that mostly hid her face. Faith froze. She could feel the grief that shook Willow’s world. These days, what shook Willow shook Faith too. She took a quick breath and exhaled slowly, not wanting to tread on the tender emotion. “No go with the mojo?”
Willow shook her head miserably. “No.”
Faith could tell she’d been crying, probably blaming herself, the same way she had for the last five years. Very little rendered Willow mono-syllabic, in fact other than her tongue in the right place, Faith couldn’t think of anything that did…until now. Willow moved her way and Faith caught her hand when she got close enough. “You knew it was a long shot.” Willow wouldn’t meet her eyes, even when Faith kissed her hand, turning it over to press her lips against her palm, letting her tongue tickle the skin. “Help me back to bed.”
Willow slipped an arm around the Slayer’s back and pulled her to lean against her as they made their way back into the bedroom they shared. “You shouldn’t have gotten up.” Willow said as Faith settled back into the pillows.
“My girl needed me.” Faith said, patting the bed beside her. “Did you see the others?”
Willow shook her head. “I couldn’t bear it, not after seeing her that way.” She slipped into bed beside Faith, letting Faith guide her to a position with her head on the Slayer’s shoulder.
“Give me an hour or so to sleep, and we’ll go together.”
“Are you sure you’re up to it?”
“Will be. Slayer healing, remember?”
“Oh!” Willow exclaimed, sitting up suddenly, sending her lapful of books cascading to the floor. Faith woke, one hand slipping under her pillow for the knife she kept there. She relaxed when she saw Willow. “Oh!” Willow said again, her face animated with that discovery face Faith had come to find enduring. The slayer looked up from her place on the bed and quirked an eyebrow at her.
“Wanna share with the class, Red?”
Willow looked at her, wiping at the stray strands of hair that fell into her face and tucking them behind her ears. “I know how to fix it.” Willow stood up excitedly and moved over to the bed. Faith smiled at her, loving the way the late evening sun streaming in the window set her red hair ablaze.
“Okay…” Faith shrugged and Willow rolled her eyes.
“Just now, it came to me. I can make them better.”
Faith sat forward now, regretting it as her ribs twinged. Slayer healing or no, the constant damage to that one spot was weakening her. It wasn’t healing as fast anymore. She knew exactly who Willow meant though.
“No shit?”
“No shit.”
“How?”
Willow made a face and dropped her gaze. “It’s complicated…and not entirely white light and puppies magic. But I totally know how. They’d be good as new. Better.” Her eyes sparkled and Faith couldn’t help but smile.
“What do you need?”
Willow sat back and thought about that. “The full moon, a talisman of Carmar, the blood of a Slayer…that isn’t Buffy…Oh…something that belonged to each of them.”
Faith nodded. “Full moon is in two days. I’m you’re slayer, we know where to find B…and…” She gingerly got up off the bed and moved to the closet. She moved aside the odd assorted clothing that was part leather, part chenille and somehow represented what the two of them had come to be together. Behind that, the back wall of the closet had been converted to hold their weapons. She ran a hand lovingly over a blade that had been too pretty to leave behind all those years ago.
He’d never really given it to her. Thrown it to her in the heat of battle that day, stained with his blood, dripping with the gore of those he’d killed and she’d used it to cut her way through a never-ending swath of demons to get to him. Not that it had mattered in the end.
Faith closed her eyes against the memory and closed her hand over the hilt of the blade. She pulled it from the wall and turned. “This was his.” she said softly, holding it out for inspection.
Willow nodded and came to her, a hand sliding up to cup Faith’s cheek in a gesture of affection that sometimes made Faith roll her eyes. Not this time though. Faith’s free hand rose up to hold that hand, and she made no move to step away when Willow stepped closer and took her in her arms, kissing her softly. “Its okay.” Willow whispered and Faith nodded.
After a moment they both stepped away. “I can’t help you with the talisman thing though...or anything of…you know…for the others.” Faith said as she sat back down on the bed.
Willow held the sword and shook her head. “That’s okay. I know where to get what I need. I’ll have it tomorrow.”
Faith nodded and returned to laying down. Her body ached from the fight the day before. The fight they shouldn’t have had that much trouble winning. She was beginning to think that retiring wasn’t a bad idea. She snickered at the thought. Before Willow’s nifty trick with activating all the Slayers none of them ever lived to retire. Ever. She shook her head at Willow’s questioning look. “Stupid idea.” Faith muttered and Willow smiled.
“Never.”
“Oh, yeah.” She smiled and threw a pillow at Willow. “You’re the smart one in this relationship.”
“Well, I won’t argue there.” Willow said with a smile. “Seriously, you okay? I should go, check on them.”
Faith nodded. “I’ll come with.”
“You need your rest.”
“I’m fine.”
“I saw the look when you sat up.” Willow’s expression pinned Faith to the spot, all business and she knew Faith better than Faith wanted to admit.
“I don’t want you to go alone. Not after B. You’ll blame yourself…again.”
“No blame. I promise.”
“You’ll wallow in the memory, especially if they’re coherent.”
“No wallowing. Just a visit to make sure they’re physically able to do this.”
“You sure?”
Willow nodded and tucked her hair behind her ear again. “I won’t be long, and you need to be on the top of your game if you’re going to help me.”
“Okay, but you be careful.”
“Always.” Willow kissed Faith on the forehead and left the room.
As the door closed behind her, Faith let out the breath she had been holding. The memories wouldn’t let her wallow; they weren’t gentle enough for that. They came crashing over her and she held herself as hot tears burned down her face.
It wasn’t sanctioned, but then Faith had never needed the Watcher’s Council’s sanctioning to do anything. She owed him, and that was all that mattered. She set up her Slayer kids with a babysitter she trusted and skipped out of Cleveland, just as soon as she’d found out what was going down in LA. The battle wasn’t hard to find. All she’d had to do was follow the dragon, and the screaming.
Faith tried in vain to push it away, the look on his face when he’d seen her, half relief, half fear…the way his hands trembled as they fell beneath the onslaught…the way he’d called Buffy’s name, but held her hand as his blood dripped from more wounds than she could even see, and then Buffy and Red had come, the blue demon-God thing Illyria had filled the air with rage. The air crackled with magic, red and blue and blinding as Red had tried to shield them…and it was suddenly over and quiet but for the gasping and bleeding and dying…and the not dying.
LA had looked like a battleground, with dead demons and humans and vampire dust for miles. Faith took a deep breath and shook her head to clear it. It had been a long five years, and so much had changed, not the least of which was this thing with Red. Four years since they’d kissed in the rain in London. Faith hadn’t meant anything by it at the time, and yet, here they were, sharing a flat a few blocks from Watcher’s headquarters.
Faith swallowed and tucked the memory bomb back into her head. It was hard to believe they were still feeling the casualties of that day. For five years, Willow had visited B in the Watcher’s hospital, working every last bit of magic she and the coven could come up with. Still, the Slayer lay, unmoving, eyes open. It could have easily have been Faith. Spike had saved her the fate when he pulled her from Angel’s side seconds before Buffy had landed there. Faith took a deep breath and closed her eyes, praying for sleep without nightmares.
Willow let herself into the basement of Watcher Headquarters, slipping silently through the dark. She knew the way well enough that she had no need of a light. She’d come here every night for months, in the early days. She stopped outside the bars and looked in. “Angel? Its Willow.”
It had been almost a month since she’d been here last. Angelus had driven her from the room with his taunts and laughter. He was growing stronger while the others grew weaker. Yet another reason Willow needed to fix this.
The dark form on the bed inside the cell stirred, but didn’t respond. “Angel?” She moved around the side of the cell where she could see more closely. With a deep breath, she chose a different approach. “Wesley?”
The head came up this time, followed by the rest of him. He looked haggard, his clothes torn and ratty. It was Angel’s face, but somehow it was Wesley’s expression. “Willow?” The voice was Angel’s too, though it was colored with Wesley’s English accent. She smiled through sudden tears. She hadn’t been expecting Wesley. Of the three of them, he came through so seldom.
“Yes, how are you?”
He stood, shuffling toward her slowly. “Incredibly tired. I want to…but Angel…won’t let me…he wants me to hold on.”
“Don’t let go, Wes, not now. I’ve got an idea. I can fix this.”
He looked at her through Angel’s face and she could almost see his own blue eyes smiling at her. “It isn’t yours to fix.”
“It is. I did this…or I helped do this. I have a plan. I just need you to hold on for a few more days, okay?”
He sighed. “Illyria did this, Willow. You can’t expect—“
“Hey, powerful witch here, telling you to pipe down. I have a plan.”
He nodded, then rubbed his face. “I really am tired.”
“I know. I’m sorry.” She had so much to explain, now that she’d figured it out, but the look on his face was so sad, so despondent.
“I’m going now.”
“Okay. Just hang on okay, Wes?”
He nodded, then his posture shifted, his shoulders slumped and the English accent went away. “Willow?”
“Angel?”
“For the moment.”
“I have a plan.”
“I heard.”
She stepped a little closer to the bars. She knew she needed to tell him about Buffy, but couldn’t find the words. “I saw Buffy earlier,” she said softly.
“Any change?”
She started to shake her head no. “It will work out.” Her voice was quiet, but determined. “I can make this work.”
“Willow, don’t…don’t do anything…”
She smiled at him, but it was weak. “I can handle this, Angel. As spells go it’s easier than the one to re-soul you. There’s just a few more components to this one.”
He hung his head and nodded. “Do you need anything?”
His voice was gravelly and his eyes closed. He swallowed and stepped back a pace. She knew the look on his face well enough. Angelus was fighting to get out. “You should go,” he said heavily.
“I-I’ll be back in two days. Everything will work out.”
Angel offered her a brief smile, then shook his head. “I can’t keep him…go.”
Willow stepped back from the bars and nodded. “Two days.”
“Can’t wait.” His face changed and he licked sharp fangs. She didn’t even stop to comment, just beat a retreat and headed up to the office level.
Somewhere up there was a box with odds and ends of items that had once belonged to Angelus, some of it ancient, some of it more recent. All she needed to do was locate that box and find the one trinket that would let her isolate the demon from the others.
An hour later, she let herself into a storage room with a little magic on the lock and located the box. There wasn’t much in it, some drawings and a bloody handkerchief. Wrapped up in the handkerchief was what she was looking for. The ring was a lot like another she had taken to wearing on a chain around her neck, though this one was old and the gold tarnished with blood. She tucked the ring into a pocket and headed for home. She had two days to put together all the elements of the spell. Two days to set something right that she’d been trying to fix for five years.
“Tell me again what we’re doing?” Faith said as she watched Willow setting up her supplies. Faith leaned against the stretcher that held the motionless body of her sister Slayer. Inside the cage, Angelus paced, growling.
Willow was counting steps as she set out crystals and she stopped to look at Faith with an expression that had Faith holding up her hands and shaking her head. “I’m just saying. I trust you and everything…but…even I think this is crazy.”
Willow finished her circuit around the cage and set her last crystal. “I know. It’s our last shot at giving them a chance to be normal.”
Faith snorted. “If you can call what you’re proposing normal.”
Willow looked wounded, and Faith kicked herself mentally. As bad as that day had been for Faith, its aftermath had hurt Willow more. She stepped closer and kissed Willow’s nose. “It’s good, babe, just not normal.”
Willow’s sigh was heavy and filled with much more than air. “Illyria couldn’t save Wesley’s body, but she absorbed his…essence, only she couldn’t deal with it, not on top of Fred’s memories and emotions. When she released him, she meant for him to return to his own body, to die.”
“But he ended up in our boy here, I know this much.”
Willow nodded. “Okay, so I finally figured out why…which means I can separate them.”
“You gonna tell me why?” Faith asked with a grin, her arms circling Willow’s waist and pulling her close.
Willow’s smile was soft. “Illyria was confused by Fred’s emotion for Wesley, and Wesley was confused with the dying, but not and existing in Illyria with Fred’s memories…and his body was across the city, but something else was nearby, something that drew him.”
“This is about the ring?” Faith looked at Angel’s hand where the object in question rested. It wasn’t a traditional Claddagh, but a modernized, stylized version in silver. Faith vaguely recalled seeing it on Wesley’s hand once.
“It was Wesley’s. He wore it in Sunnydale. I don’t know why Angel was wearing it that day…but…it was enough to lure the confused disembodied Wesley…”
“Have I ever told you what a brilliant little witch you are? Twisted in the extreme, but brilliant.” Faith kissed Willow, their tongues dancing as Faith’s hand cupped the back of her head.
“As touching as this is, and as much as I would love to watch the two of you get it on…” Together Faith and Willow turned to face Angelus who had moved close to the bars. “I’ve had these two losers stuck in here with me forever. Let’s get with the evicting already.”
“Shut up.” Faith said, lifting the gun she’d brought. It made a popping noise as she sent a tranquilizer dart into his shoulder. She smiled as he flipped her off and sank slowly to the ground. “But he’s right, let’s do this thing.”
Faith unlocked the cell and moved inside to check the vampire and make sure he was really out. As Willow moved in behind her to begin her chanting and setting the candles, Faith moved out and wheeled the stretcher into the cell with them. It was disconcerting the way Buffy’s eyes stayed open but there was no life in them. Faith shuddered and turned her eyes away, watching Willow instead. She didn’t really have anything more to do, just the watching, and protecting if Angelus managed to escape the heavy sedation before Willow was done with the mojo…and add her blood when Willow told her to.
“Could you move Angel a little further that way?” Willow asked, as she pulled a glass bottle with a cork stopper from her bag. A ring clattered along the bottom of the bottle as she placed it to complete a triangle formed by the positions of Angel and Buffy.
Willow settled onto the floor in the center of the triangle, holding an odd looking jar and a small gold pendant set with a star sapphire. “First I have to charge the talisman. This is where I need you.” She held the pendant over a black candle and slowly poured a mixture of herbs and sand from the jar. “Ourias mancha aver detcha ourias Carmar.”
The sapphire began to glow and Willow beamed up at Faith. “Now, baby.” Faith nodded, flicking a switchblade out of her pocket to cut her thumb and press it to the surface of the stone. It burned, though Faith couldn’t tell if that was due to the magic or the herbs getting into the wound. “Good.” Willow slipped the glowing talisman over her head. “Now you can get the ring from Angel’s hand, put it on Buffy, left hand.”
Willow made some final preparations in the center of the triangle while Faith took the silver ring on Angel’s hand and moved it to Buffy’s slack finger. “Now the sword.”
Faith moved to Angel’s unconscious form, moving him so he lay flat on his back. She laid the sword over his body, tucking the hilt into his hands. “Now what?”
Willow pulled a chain out from under her sweater, unhooked it and dropped yet another ring into Faith’s hand. “It’s Buffy’s. Just in case. Put it on her right hand.” Faith did as instructed, then looked to Willow again.
“You should stand back, outside the candle circle. I’m protected by the talisman, but you aren’t. Wouldn’t want to slam you into someone else’s body here.”
“Been there, done that. Don’t want the rerun.” Faith said, stepping clear of the candles, but staying inside the cell. “Hey, Red.”
Willow looked up and smiled her best confident smile. “I know. Careful.”
Faith smiled and nodded.
Willow closed her eyes and when she opened them they’d gone black. She began the words of the spell and the air electrified around her, lifting her hair. Faith stepped back even further. Her eyes darted from Willow to Angel and back again. The crystals around the cell began to glow and a circle formed, in white light. The candles followed and a circle of blue light formed inside the cell, leaving Faith standing between them.
Willow’s voice took on a harsher tone and Angel’s body began to shake. The temperature in the room dropped about 15 degrees and Faith could see her breath. She shivered. Angel’s body shook more, then three dots of light rose up out of him. A smaller, paler one rose out of Buffy. They hovered for a moment then began to shoot around the inner circle.
“Anime degra avry idiba!”
There was a blast of cold air and the dots of light shot away, the first diving back into Angel, the second into Buffy, the third into the bottle, which danced around and nearly toppled over before it settled. The last of them, the smallest one hovered a moment longer, before slowly settling back into Buffy’s body. The circles of light collapsed and the electricity drained out of the air.
“Did it work?”
Willow was shaky as she stood and moved over to the bottle, which had a faint glow and seemed to be filled with a greasy grey smoke. “I don’t know.” Her voice was rough and she moved immediately to Angel’s side. “Check Buffy…I mean…” She waved a hand in Faith’s direction as she knelt next to Angel. Her hand shook as she reached out to touch Angel.
Her smile could have blinded, when she looked back up at Faith. “It worked. His heart is beating.”
“What?”
“I wasn’t sure, so I didn’t say.”
“Ugh.” It was Buffy’s voice, but not entirely. Faith leaned over and checked for a pulse.
“This one’s beating too.”
Buffy moved, as if testing the limits of her body. “B?”
“Not exactly.” The eyes opened, not as green as Faith remembered.
“Wesley?” Willow stood slowly as Buffy’s body sat up.
“I think so. Though I don’t exactly feel myself.”
“Not surprising Wes.” Faith said, steadying him/her as he/she listed to one side.
There was a groan behind them and Willow turned. “Willow?”
“Take it easy, Angel.”
“My heart.”
“It’s beating.”
He sat up, then his eyes caught on Buffy/Wesley. His eyes narrowed, then looked to Willow. “Wesley?”
Willow dropped to her knees beside him. “It was the only way, Angel. She wasn’t using it…she hasn’t in so long…and I needed to…you weren’t going to last much longer…and it was the only thing I could think of—“
“Willow, its okay.”
“I don’t know about that.” Wesley/Buffy said, stretching a little before attempting to get to his/her feet.
“And the demon?”
Willow pointed to the bottle. “We’ll need to burn him.”
“Its permanent?”
Willow nodded, stifling a yawn. “Yep. No more Angelus. No more pesky curse. Just you…and Wesley…in two separate bodies.”
Buffy’s hands ran over the body, pausing briefly at her breasts. “Typical.” Faith said with a disgusted snort. “Give a man a woman’s body and his hands go right to his breasts.”
Willow snickered and let Faith put her arms around her. “Me too,” she whispered, her hand sliding up to cup Faith’s breast. Faith pushed the hand away with a roll of her eyes, but kissed Willow.
Wesley crossed the room in Buffy’s body and knelt beside Angel. “This certainly is strange.”
“More strange than five years in here with me?” Angel asked softly. His face was wet with silent tears as he listened to his heart beat.
“No.” Buffy’s hand rose to brush the tears on Angel’s cheek. “Just different.”
“What about Buffy?” Angel asked, searching the blue-green eyes for some sign.
Wesley was quiet a moment. “She’s…here…sort of. Very withdrawn. She…hurts.” His words were merely whispers, the voice strained.
Angel pulled Wesley to him, hugging the familiar body and feeling his body stir. The blood rushed through his heart, and he could hear the slightly faster beating in Wesley’s…Buffy’s body. There was so much to say, so much that could never be said. Five years ago he had sent Wesley off to die, knowing that he loved him and that Wesley felt the same. Five years ago they had kissed in the semi-privacy of the elevator to his penthouse before they had separated. Neither of them had expected to live. Neither of them had expected to be able to touch again. Of course, neither of them had counted on Illyria’s grief or Willow’s…creative streak either.
And who in their right mind would expect to see Wesley looking out at him from Buffy’s eyes.
“Angel—“ Wesley hung Buffy’s head and seemed to search for words. Angel’s hand rose up to caress the familiar cheek, turn those eyes back to him.
The first kiss was tentative, Angel feeling his way past the body of one love to the heart of another. “Oh, this is different.” Wesley said, his English accent turning Buffy’s voice into something very different as well. His hands followed Angels over curves his body would never have had. He closed his fingers over Angel’s hand and pulled it up to kiss the palm. “I think perhaps we should take this slowly.”
“Perhaps.” Angel smiled at him. “We have all the time in the world.”
“You both need to sleep.” Willow said, stifling another yawn. “Your bodies have been through a lot tonight…and you’ve been stretched pretty thin these last few years.”
Faith picked up the bottled demon. “Psych little psycho,” she snickered, swirling the bottle around so that the ring in it clinked around. “Thought you were gonna get that body for yourself, didn’t ya?”
She stared into the swirling grey for a moment then looked back at Willow. “Didn’t I tell you? Brilliant.”
Willow laughed and carefully stood up, moving to gather the important bits. “You guys can crash in our spare room for now. Wesley, I brought some clothes for you, in the gym bag by the door. It would be a long walk in that hospital gown.”
Faith helped Willow clean up as Angel slowly tested his body, stretching limbs carefully before finally climbing to his feet. He felt lighter, warmer. He was also incredibly tired. He looked up as Wesley bent over the gym bag, getting a long look of leg and ass as the hospital gown opened. He felt himself stiffen. He breathed deeply and exhaled slowly. Buffy’s body was still beautiful, even after five years of lying in a catatonic state. He could no longer smell the subtle scents of her skin and hair, but that didn’t seem to matter.
“Hey, Wes, you’re giving a peep show.” Faith said with a smirk, glancing at Angel.
Wesley straightened indignantly and turned his backside to the wall. “Really, Angel!”
“What?” Angel chuckled and shook his head. “It isn’t as if I haven’t seen it all before, Wes.” He crossed the room, circling Wesley’s new waist with his hands and pulling him close.
“Well, you haven’t seen it with me!” He pushed Angel, then gasped as Angel went flying across the cell, landing in a heap against the bars.
Willow rushed over to check on him as Faith reached for Wesley’s hands. “You need to be careful Wes. Not only is that a female body, but the body of a Slayer…and Angel’s mortal now.”
“It gives not knowing your own strength new meaning.” Wesley finally said after a long moment.
“Right. Why don’t I show you where the ladies room is, Slayer.” Faith said as Angel picked himself up and Willow went back to her packing. By the time she’d helped Wesley wriggle into the sweats Willow had brought, Angel and Willow were waiting for them, yawning in unison. “Come on you sleepy heads. Let’s get out of here.”
The sun was rising as they exited the building. Angel held to Wesley’s hand and squinted into the light, remembering a day that he had walked hand in hand with Buffy in the sun, a day that existed only in his memory. They followed the two women wordlessly, alone in their thoughts…only Wesley wasn’t exactly alone. Angel looked at him and wondered if it was the same as it had been when Wesley was inside him. There was no direct communication, just emotions, shared knowledge. Then though there had been the demon too, keeping them fighting just to keep the upper hand.
Buffy’s face was glowing in the early morning light, and Wesley’s smile was only a little sad as he felt Angel’s eyes on him and turned. He felt odd looking up at that face, feeling the hand in his warm. He was the perfect height now to rest his head on Angel’s shoulder. He didn’t know if he was ready for that.
“Here we are.” Willow said, pointing up the steps. Faith held the door and Willow led them in, straight back to a bedroom with a double bed. “It isn’t much, but it’s safe and comfy.”
“It will be fine, Willow.” Wesley said, touching her arm gently. He collapsed onto the bed, his eyes closing almost instantly. “I am going to sleep for a month.”
“I’ll settle for a week.” Angel said, joining him.
“I’ll be just down the hall.” Willow said. She stood for a moment in the door, watching as the two of them migrated to the center of the bed, Buffy’s body finding its way into the curve of Angel’s as they both drifted off to sleep. Faith’s pull on her arm drew her away and she closed the door, following her Slayer to their bedroom and letting her pull her sweater and skirt off before guiding her to the bed.
“You are beautiful.” Faith whispered as she crawled up Willow’s body. “I would ravage you, but I can see you’re exhausted.
Willow considered pouting, but didn’t have the strength. “Ravage later…kiss me now?”
Faith smiled. “Count on it.” Her kiss was fierce and she sucked on Willows lip before the yawn forced her to pull back.
“Do you think they’ll be okay?” Willow asked sleepily as she closed her eyes.
“Angel and Wes?”
“And Buffy.”
Faith was quiet, settling in to lay with her head on Willow’s shoulder. “I don’t know. There’s no real precedent for this.”
“We need to tell the others, the Council.”
Faith thought about that for a minute, imagining what Giles might have said, had he still been around. He would have been angry, and relieved and concerned for his Slayer. The new council was likely to be more forgiving then the earlier versions, but both Angel and Wesley had some serious adjustments to make. “Give them time to adjust, Will.”
But Willow was already asleep, and Faith listened to her breathing for a while before she too drifted toward sleep too.
Wesley’s dreams were filled with Buffy, sullen and dark Buffy…and flashes of memories he knew were not his own. Several in particular played over and over. Buffy died, Buffy revived…the confusion and pain of the final resurrection, the moment she lost Giles, Illyria and the blast that had left them all in a hell no one had dreamed of.
He woke and found himself alone in the bed…as alone as one could get in the same body as another person, he supposed. He rose slowly, and padded over to the mirror on the back of the door. There had been no mirrors to look into when he’d been inside Angel. It wasn’t like he would have seen anything anyway. Buffy’s hair had grown long in the years she had lain unconscious, her body thin. He watched his hand move in the mirror and swipe at the hair hanging in his face. It was a gesture that was reminiscent of the Slayer in her younger days.
He looked into the mirror, into the eyes that were not his own. An oddly intimate moment, as he sensed her there with him in that moment. “Buffy?” he whispered, touching the mirror’s surface as if it were her face.
The reflection smiled back at him. “Always knew you wanted to get into my pants, Wes, but isn’t this going a little far?”
“I-I-well…”
The reflection laughed. “Relax, Wesley. I’m joking.”
Wesley breathed a little easier, but shook his head. “This may be more difficult than I thought.”
“Willow knows what she’s doing…I think,” the reflection said. “I really haven’t been using the body, and you don’t have one…except that now you have mine.”
His hands slid over her body. “It’s beginning to feel more…natural. Last night I felt extremely peculiar.” His hands slid up under the sweatshirt Willow had given him, his hands rubbing her breasts. The nipples stood up perkily and he gasped a little from the sensation.
”Hey!” the reflection of Buffy said indignantly.
“I need to get familiar with my new surroundings.” Wesley said, mostly keeping the tremor out of his voice and the smirk off his face.
“Wesley?” Angel’s voice startled him, and Wesley dropped his hands, turning to find Angel closing the door behind him. “I was wondering…I heard you talking.”
Wesley nodded and turned back to the mirror. “With Buffy.” He gestured with one hand, but the reflection was merely a reflection now, not a talking Buffy. Angel came up behind him and slipped arms around him. For a long moment they stared at the reflection.
“Is she…I mean…”
“Its going to take time.” Wesley said. He closed his eyes. He could feel her there, inside him…around him…no voices in his head, exactly…”We both have some adjustments to make.”
Angel turned him around, tilting his face up to kiss. Warm lips pressed against his and Wesley could taste coffee as his mouth opened to Angel’s tongue. A rush of emotion surged through him, his nipples, already sensitive, brushed Angel’s chest and heat spread through his belly. He ached with desire for more, his hands grabbing at Angel as the kiss deepened and their bodies touched. The kiss devolved into Angel dragging his lips across skin, along his neck. Wesley felt his knees weaken, his right hand grabbed the edge of the desk beside them.
Angel’s lips reached the dip of Buffy’s collarbone and Wesley’s stomach fluttered. There was a distinct feeling or arousal, though it was different than anything he knew…his hand squeezed, breaking the desk corner. They fell apart in surprise at the noise, both of them breathing heavily. “Oh, my.” Wesley dropped the wood and looked at Angel. “I forgot.”
Angel smirked. “Obviously the body didn’t.”
“Yes, obviously.” Wesley was curious now, and wanted nothing more than to undress and explore the strange new feelings, the wetness gathering south of his stomach…but his head was urging caution.
“Everything okay in there?” Willow’s voice called.
“Uh, yeah, Willow. Wesley’s just demonstrating his new found Slayer strength.” Angel said. “We’ll be out in a minute.” He turned back to Wesley. “We thought you might like your first slaying.”
Buffy’s eyebrow arched in an expression that was completely Wesley. “It’s almost sunrise, Angelus is impatient.”
Angel held the door and Wesley followed the sounds of Faith and Willow making breakfast. “Hey sleepyhead.” Willow said, coming out of the kitchen to hug him. “We though you were joking about the sleeping for a month thing.”
“I wasn’t out a month.”
“No, just 24 hours.” Faith said, handing him a cup of coffee. “I wasn’t sure how you were going to want it…sweet and creamy like B or hot and black like you…so I compromised…it’s black and sweet.”
“Thank you.” He took a sip, then cocked his head. “That is actually quite nice.”
He turned to the see Angel staring at the corked bottle. “Hard to believe he’s right there.” Angel murmured. “Balcony faces east.” He offered Wesley the bottle.
“Are you sure you don’t want to…”
“Together?”
Wesley nodded, setting aside his coffee for the bottle. Together he and Angel moved out onto the balcony. The sun was just starting to show itself over the buildings to the east. The demon in the bottle shook, trying to knock it loose from Wesley’s hands. He held it tighter, and took Angel’s hand. Together they faced the coming sun until it was visible in orange and yellow day-glow over the nearest building. Wesley held up the bottle, shaking it a little. A tiny flame started inside, consuming the grey smoke and leaving a layer of dust over the ring.
“A Slayer is born.” Angel said, smiling as he kissed Wesley’s nose.
“I’m not certain born is the right term.” Wesley said in response, setting the bottle on the small table in the corner of the balcony as Angel moved back inside to help set the table.
“A Slayer born…I like that.” Wesley turned. Buffy’s reflection smiled at him from the sliding glass door.
“If I’m to be a Slayer, I’m going to need you.” Wesley said.
The smile faded a little. “I know. I’m working on it.”
It was his turn to smile. “I know. We have time.”
She nodded, then his reflection was his own again.
“No, my life isn’t too complicated at all,” he whispered to himself. His stomach rumbled and he remember this body hadn’t eaten solid food in a very long time. With a deep breath, he left the balcony, embracing what he’d been given, and the odd little family that had given it to him.
