Sometimes, he wondered if this small, school library with its annoying youth was worth his while. This was not at all what he had pictured his adult life as when he was younger. He was supposed to be fighting Demons, practicing magick, and taking a different woman to bed every night. He was supposed to be, as the kids called it these days, the coolest bloke on the town. For a time, he had had that, but it had led him to raising the wrong Demon and seeing lives sacrificed. He'd rather go nowhere than ever follow that pathway again.
That was, he feared with a sigh, exactly what was happening. Instead of being the Ripper, his days were filled with boring school books and the occasional paperwork until a notice from the Watcher Council came in the mail. A photograph fluttered into his open hand the moment he ripped open the brown satchel. Rupert stared into the blonde girl's green eyes and knew instantly that his life was changed. All hope was not gone. He was going somewhere or, rather, she was coming to him. With a girl like this for his Slayer, -- he grinned --, magic could still happen.
Angel wasn't accustomed to requesting help. He'd had trouble even accepting what Buffy had given so freely, but Doyle had been right. There were nights when the faces became a blur, nights when he almost ached to return to his soulless days, when the never-ending fight against evil was just too hard to undergo alone. But he wasn't alone. He had Wesley, Gunn, Fred, and Lorne. Best of all, he had Cordelia. Angel smiled, watching her bounce his son in the same loving arms that'd held him earlier. As long as he had her, he knew he could make it.
He was dead. He had lived for a short time, but now that he knew his Cordelia -- his precious, wonderful, beloved Cordy was gone from him forever, taken by Jasmine, Angel was dead again. Although his heart hadn't beat, he'd only ever known life when she had loved him. And now she was dead. He wanted to kill her body and walk out into the sunlight. Fuck that, he just wanted to stake himself!
"We'll figure it out." He growled; Wesley flinched and withdrew his hand.
They would figure it out, Angel thought, stalking off, but he'd never live again.
It had been a hard day and an even harder night. All Buffy wanted to do was sleep; she lacked the energy even for a shower, despite being covered in Demon slime and blood. Yet, as she fell into bed, something stirred within her.
A second later, strong arms wrapped gently around her. "Mmm." She leaned back into Riley, a smile curving her lips and exhaustion beginning to disappear.
"See?" he whispered and kissed her ear. "I told you you'd like working together." She wished, as she slipped underneath him, that she could go to bed every day like this.
"Euuw!" Cordelia's nose crinkled as she looked, with distaste, upon what was left of Angel's car. The vehicle had already been old, but now it was as dead as he was.
Doyle grimaced as he continued trying to crank it. "It had a little problem with the gate."
"Uh huh. You are so
not driving for me when I become a star, mister!"
"Cordelia -- "
"No way! It's bad enough you wrecked this piece of -- Eep!" She ducked, jumping into the car, as Doyle hit the Demon behind her. "You can be my bodyguard, though."
"Oh, I'll guard yer body any day."
"They think I'm easy," Faith remarked, dumping Willow's crumpled body at Spike's feet. "What do you think?"
"I think you're worth it," he replied, smiling. He stepped over the fallen Scoobies to get closer to his woman. His long, pale fingers curved around the arch of her neck. She leaned into his passionate kiss and kicked Willow back down when the redhead tried rising. They knew the truth but wouldn't speak it. They'd each taken the hard and easy roads at different times in their lives, but they'd never found anything as good on any easy road before as each other.