Epilogue

The two cars pulled into Willow’s driveway; Xander, Cordelia, Willow and Buffy Harris got out of the front car, Buffy and Angel out of the rear. The group stood around awkwardly, wondering what to do. Angel saved them the mental anguish by saying, “Buffy and I have a few things to talk about, I think, and it’s several hours until dawn. We can stay outside.”

The relief was evident on Xander, Cordelia, and even Willow’s faces. “We’ll — talk later,” Willow told him. “And Buffy — you’re free to come in whenever you want.” Xander looked like he wanted to say something else, but on a stern look from Willow refrained.

“Thanks, guys. It’s good to be back.” They all smiled half-heartedly and walked inside.

“Of all the ways I saw this ending,” Angel told Buffy as they sat down on the bench on the front porch, “This wasn’t one of them. I never thought you’d be back. And certainly not like … this.”

“Why not?” Buffy asked innocently. “It’s the way you last saw me.” She idly picked up a piece of grass and began fidgeting with it.

“Not funny,” Angel said.

“I know,” Buffy sighed. “Here I am, a vampire again.”

“And not just any vampire, either,” Angel gently reminded her. The fidgeting of Buffy’s hands grew faster and faster until Angel reached out and carefully took hold of them. “You’re Elsza.”

“Yeah. A majorly powerful demon, to control the Slayer. And she’s still in me, all right. Maybe, maybe she won’t be able to come back. Odd that they’d trust me and not you, given the circumstances.”

“They don’t trust me, Buffy. They may never trust me. Even with you back, backing me up, and with Buffy Harris’ confirmation, I’m still in their eyes the monster who killed Jenny Calendar, and Oz, and Giles, and you. Twice. Plus I lied to Willow for seventeen years when I was Galen Petrillo. Speaking of which,” he said with a brief chuckle, “I’m rich. Angelus managed to accumulate a lot of money and rare artifacts over 250 years or so.”

“Galen?” Buffy said.

“That’s right, I never told you,” Angel said. “I took a secret identity for awhile. A reclusive Italian multimillionaire and adventurer. For a long time, I — I threw myself into being him, trying to put the memory of you, the memory of who I was as far behind me as I could. And here in one night it all comes flying back into my face. As do you. Not that I object to that part of it, of course.” But in talking about Galen, he seemed almost … wistful?

“You sound like you’re more comfortable being Galen.”

“I’m more comfortable being with you,” his answer came back. “Galen — the Galen who I was until a few hours ago — wouldn’t have had a place for you in his life. He couldn’t have. He was too busy pushing you into the back of his mind.”

“But no one — no one except me — is comfortable with Angel.” Buffy sighed. “I don’t think they ever will be, either.”

Angel said, “Then I have an idea …”

*                  *                  *

“Spike escaped, Emily died, Siobhan did, too, and Buffy and Angel came back,” Cordelia said as she sat on Willow’s couch. “Did we win or lose tonight?”

“Yes,” Xander said. A flurry of emotions played on his face.

It had been a rhetorical question, of course, and Xander’s answer the only appropriate one. Emily was dead. Her best friend outside the Slayerettes — her only friend outside the Slayerettes.

They would have been numb, except in a way they were happy, too, because, after all, Buffy was back. too! And if that meant Angel — Angel, the betrayer —

Well, Buffy Summers had forgiven him. And Buffy Harris had trusted him enough to vouch for him earlier, too. And eventually, Willow would be able to trust him as well, even if she could never forgive him. Because she did trust Buffy Summers, even as a vampire.

Which brought up a point. Willow doubted either Xander or Cordelia would ever even be able to let Angel into their house, much less forgive or trust him, even now, with all he’d done; even now, with Buffy back.

Because there was all he had done.

“Xander — Cordy —” Willow said. “Will you be able to trust Buffy?”

“I’m still pissed at the way she invaded my daughter’s body — but it wasn’t really her fault. Of course, I’ll be able to trust her. “

“We invited her in, didn’t we?” Cordelia asked.

The conversation was cut off when Willow’s phone rang.

“Yes?” she said.

Regan’s voice echoed throughout the house, sounding even more cold and distant than before. “Willow,” she began. “This is in case you were worried something happened to me after the fight.”

“Well, come on over,” Buffy said. “We were just discussing —”

“Buffy, no.” Regan interrupted. “I’m not coming over now — or ever.” As they tried to recover from the shock of that last statement, Regan continued, “I’m resigning my post as a Watcher effective immediately. Willow, you have a Slayer again, and I wish you joy of her. It’s what you always wanted, anyway — a second chance, so here it is. And all it cost was Emily’s life.”

Xander yelled, “Hey! That’s hardly —”

“Fair?” Regan said. “No, I guess it’s not. I honestly don’t care anymore. Buffy, Willow, Nemesis will let you in; Willow, you should be able to figure out how to control her. The books in the store are yours, if you want them — as is the store itself.”

Willow knew the routine. “But, Regan —”

“No buts, Willow. The choices have been made, now live with them. I’m certainly going to have to. Don’t try to find me, don’t try to contact me. I’ve been a Watcher and fought the good fight. This part of my life is over.” Then things got quiet, so much so that Willow almost believed the connection had been severed. Then a faint whisper. “Would it have killed you to bring back one more person?”

A clicking sound and Willow knew this time for certain the connection was broken. “Phone! Call Regan Leary!” No answer. “Phone!” Willow began —

But the sound of a distant explosion cut her off.

“What was that?” Cordelia asked as they rushed outside.

“One gets you ten that was Leary’s house,” Buffy said humorlessly as they stood there and watched flames shoot skyward about a mile distant.

“No bet,” Willow sighed.

Angel and Buffy came up to them. “What was that?” Buffy asked.

“Regan’s decided to end her career as a Watcher,” Willow answered.

“One thing you have to say about Regan,” Xander commented, “she doesn’t do anything in half measures.”

Nodding her head, Willow admitted, “No — no, she doesn’t.” The emotional shock of losing two good friends in one night still hadn’t entirely sunk in. She was running on autopilot, essentially.

They all spent a few minutes looking at the fire and smoke silhouetted against the New Glenbury skyline. Then, almost shyly, Buffy turned to Willow and said, “I have a favor to ask you.”

“If I can, Buff. You know I’ve been through a lot tonight —”

“You don’t have to do it right away. I just wanted you to find out — seeing how weird the way it was I got my soul back — what Elsza could do to me. If she could ever — take over.”

Good idea. Unlike Angel, Buffy still had a demon inside her. Willow said so.

“And then I’d like to introduce someone to you,” Buffy continued.

This brought them all up. Buffy Harris said, “Who? There’s no one new —”

“Yes there is,” Buffy said. She gestured towards Angel and said, “I don’t believe any of you have met my new boyfriend. Everyone,” she took a deep breath, “this is Galen Petrillo. Galen, everyone …”

*                  *                  *

Regan Leary left town the same way she’d come in: Alone.

Her personal items and books were stored in the back of her car. Just because she was giving up on being a Watcher — didn’t mean she was giving up on anything else.

Except friendship. That phase of her life was over.

She pulled her car into an all-night filling station. A sign on the pumps read, “Between 11 PM and 8 AM please pay inside, in advance.” Last thing she wanted now was personal contact.

Still. She walked in, handed the bored-looking clerk fifteen dollars, and walked back out without waiting for a receipt. The longer she was in town — the more likely it would be that Willow, or Buffy, or someone else, would try to track her down and stop her. Beg her to stay, say she was still loved.

That was bullshit. Emily was dead.

As she filled up the car, an oddly familiar voice said behind her. “Hey there, baby, going my way?” She turned and saw Spike walking up to her. Immediately she released the pump — stuck on ten dollars even — and drew a stake.

“Easy there, love,” Spike told Regan. “I’m not here to kill you.”

“Really,” Regan whispered. “Then why are you here?”

“I want to make a proposition. And no dirty jokes.”

“They never crossed my mind,” she answered. “Go on.”

“You and me have something in common, Watcher,” Spike began. “We’ve both lost someone we care deeply about. Now, no hard feelings about earlier tonight. Siobhan couldn’t have been trusted with that kind of power. Now, I know there’s some other way to bring those we love back. Think about it. You a Watcher, me a vampire — we’re bound to figure it out. Interested?”

Regan’s answer came without hesitation. “No.” Then, before Spike could react, she stepped forward and thrust the stake through the startled vampire’s heart.

As Spike’s dust blew away in the wind, Regan said, to no one in particular, “You were wrong, Spike. We were nothing alike. You — you still had someone you loved. You still thought that emotion — that caring — was worth it. And it’s not. All it does is cause pain.”

Pictures of Emily’s face flashed through her mind as she got back into her car. The tears would not come. She would never let them come. As she pulled the car out onto the road heading most directly out of New Glenbury, she said, trying to keep the quaver from her voice, “I’ve been there before. And I’m never going back again.”

 
END

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