Author: Pandora
Title: A Case Of You (Part 1 of the Reunion trilogy)
Rated: PG-14?
E-mail: [email protected]
Feedback: I'll crawl naked on my hands and knees over hot coals and broken
glass if you'll send me some!
Disclaimer: The characters in this belong to Joss and all those other people
he works with; only Audrey, the twins (and any other original characters
herein) and the plot are mine. The song lyrics are Joni Mitchell's "A Case Of
You", copyright 1998. So, duh, they're not mine, either.
Distribution: You really want it? Cool. Just send me your link so I can gloat
over all of my friends.
Summary: Ten years in the future, Buffy, now widowed and a mom, thinks about
Angel and decides she wants him back. Eventually B/A, some implied B/R, S/W,
F/Wesley, X/Anya, C/D and a little bit of G/T (what can I say? I was in a
weird mood).
Author's notes: Be a luv and pretend "Hero" never happened. Doyle belongs
with Cordy, dammit, and I aim to see he gets her.

~*~*~*~

Just before our love got lost, you said,
"I am as constant as a northern star,"
And I said, "Constantly in the darkness.
Where's that at? If you want me, I'll be in the bar."

Buffy stared out the window at the rain outside and sighed.
"Looks like I'll have to drive Audrey to school." She muttered under her
breath before shouting up the stairs, "Audrey Joyce Finn, get down here right
now or we're going to be late!"
"I don't want to go to school!" A sleepy, six-year-old voice shouted back.
"Well, you can't just stay in bed all day!"
"Yes, I can! I'm sick!"
Buffy smiled as she ran up the stairs and plopped down on the bed beside her
daughter. "Sick, huh?"
Audrey nodded violently, widening her already enormous brown eyes for
emphasis.
Buffy frowned and mocked concern. "What's wrong?"
"I, uh, I got a cold." Audrey lied poorly, then faked a cough.
Buffy tickled her mercilessly, extracting helpless giggles from her little
girl. "Well, slugger, if you want to stay home with a cold, you're not
getting out of bed at all, and Granny's going to have to come stay with you
while I'm at work."
Audrey made a face. "Can't you stay home with me? All Granny does is knit
and make yucky tea. She's no fun and she smells funny."
Buffy laughed. "You know, Audrey, you shouldn't talk about your grandma like
that. Doesn't she always get you the best presents for Christmas--"
"--because I'm her only grandchild." Audrey finished for her, rolling her
eyes. "But Mommy, I want to stay home with you! Or Aunt Willow and Uncle
Spike."
"Well, if you want to go to camp this summer, I have to go to work. Which
means that if you don't want to stay home with Granny, you have to go to
school."
Audrey pouted. "Mommy, you don't play fair."
Buffy laughed. "Come on, kiddo; I've got breakfast waiting for you
downstairs."
Audrey sighed and hopped out of bed, already dressed. "What's for breakfast?
I'm starving!"
Buffy smiled inwardly. This child may be hers and Riley's, but she had
somehow inherited Xander's appetite.
"Waffles, French toast and orange juice sound good?"
"Yeah!" Audrey bounded down the stairs ahead of her mother and made a break
for the kitchen. She had already situated herself at the table with her
breakfast before Buffy even got there. It never ceased to amaze her how
energetic Audrey was.
Buffy poured herself some coffee and grabbed a piece of toast and sat down
at the table. "So, slugger, what are you guys doing in school today?"
"Making May flowers."
Buffy frowned. "Isn't it a little early to make stuff for Thanksgiving?"
"Not Mayflowers, May flowers!" Audrey corrected, giggling. "It's because
it's springtime."
Buffy froze, then looked over at the calendar and the dates crossed off with
big, red X's. Her stomach lurched as she looked at the date.
Audrey chattered on happily, eating her breakfast, oblivious to her mother's
sudden deathly pallor. "Okay, Mommy; are we going to school now?"
Buffy pushed herself away from the table, shoved her hands deep into the
pockets of her jeans and gave Audrey a tight, trembling smile. "O-Of course,
slugger; Mommy just has to make a phone call first."
"Okay."
Buffy fled to her bedroom, nearly tripping over one of Audrey's roller
skates on the way, before she picked up the cordless next to her bed and
frantically tapped in a number. She waited, tapping her foot impatiently, for
the person on the other end to pick up.
"Hello?" Mickayla, a clerk at Buffy's shop, answered.
"Hi, it's me." Buffy said. "I can't come in today, okay? Have Tara cover for
me."
"But why?" Mickayla asked.
Buffy groaned inwardly. She knew the older woman, employee or no, wouldn't
let Buffy stay home unless she had a valid reason. She cringed slightly as
she lied, "I've got a cold." She sniffed and faked a cough for emphasis,
kicking herself for being worse than her six-year-old daughter.
"All right; boss; I'll call Tara. You stay in bed. Want me to bring you some
soup later?" Mickayla asked, concerned.
"No, thanks; that's okay. I'll be in tomorrow if I feel better."
"Okay."
"Bye." Buffy hung up and rubbed her temples in a vain attempt to soothe her
newfound headache. She went back downstairs and snatched up her car keys.
"C'mon, slugger; time for school." She announced with false brightness.
Audrey got down from her chair, grabbed her jacket and her backpack before
she ran to the car.
Buffy clutched at her stomach to keep from throwing up as she got in the
driver's side, fastened her seat belt and drove her daughter to school.
Oh, God, she thought. It's today.

~*~*~*

I met a woman
She had a mouth like yours
And she knew your devils and your deeds
And she said, "Go to him, stay with him if you can,
But be prepared to bleed..."

Buffy grabbed a bottle out from under the sink and headed for the living
room. Spanish Sherry. Good for drowning sorrows. She twisted the lid off and
took a swig before she snatched her and Riley's wedding picture off the
mantelpiece.
She brushed a lock of her now dark brown, curly hair out of her face and
looked at the picture in the frame. Riley was grinning broadly, resplendent
in his ugly blue tux and wacky, brightly colored necktie beside her. She'd
still been a blond then. She was wearing her mother's lavish wedding dress,
covered with huge white bows and pink silk roses. She crinkled her nose in
disgust. She'd hated that dress, but both her mother and Riley had insisted
she wear it. But that wasn't what she wanted to see right now.
She took another huge gulp of sherry before sliding the back out of the
frame and pulling out the picture behind it. The picture of her and Angel
dancing at the prom.
She sank down on the couch, tears coming to her eyes as she looked down at
it. He'd looked so wonderful and held her so close. Buffy tenderly traced
Angel's face in the picture with one finger and drank some more.
She held in a sob. That was twelve years ago. Twelve years ago today. She
was thirty now, and had only seen Angel a few times since then. Well, a few
times compared to how often she used to see him.
She closed her eyes, remembering the last time she ever saw him.
They'd found a way to seal the Hellmouth. It seemed like some bizarre dream,
too good to be true, and yet they'd done it.
Angel, Cordelia, Doyle, Wesley and Faith had all come to Sunnydale to help
fight the uprising demons while Willow, Tara and a coven of middle-aged,
experienced witches from Massachusetts worked the magicks to close the
Hellmouth forever.
"You shouldn't be here." She'd told him. "You don't belong here any more."
"You can't handle this by yourself." Angel had stated.
"Really? You seemed to think I could when you left. What's different now?"
"You never get over it, do you? It's been two years, Buffy. You've got your
perfect life and your terrific boyfriend, and you're about to be free from
your post as Sunnydale's Slayer. You should quit being so damn angry and give
me a break."
"You have no right to be here, Angel. You told me I had no right to be in L.
A, what gives you the right to come back to Sunnydale?"
"Excuse me for caring if you and the entire population of Sunnydale dies."
She had opened her mouth to make another retort when suddenly a demon had
pounced on her. It was much larger than the ones she was used to dealing
with, and fighting it wasn't as easy as it should have been. Angel and Riley
had both pried it off her, then battered it half to death, each in a
competition to not only save her life but beat each other doing it. She got
up and tried to kick it off Angel, but it had reached around and twisted her
ankle until she fell onto her stomach on the ground. Finally, Angel had
killed it, but before she could respond in any way, Riley had picked her up
and hugged her almost hard enough to break her ribs.
"Oh, Buffy; you scared me. I thought I'd lost you." Riley had kissed her
forehead, then wrapped her in another bone-crushing hug while Angel looked on.
"I'm fine, Riley." She'd snapped, pulling away.
"Thank God." Suddenly, Riley's expression had turned very serious and he'd
said, "Buffy, I have a very serious question to ask you."
"Okay..." Buffy had uttered. Angel had said nothing, waiting.
"Buffy, will you marry me?"
Her mind had spun like a color wheel. She'd shot a look over her shoulder at
Angel, who was glaring quietly. She'd felt rage well up inside her, rage at
the way Angel had left her, hurt her, so she could have a "normal life". That
was when she'd decided. He wants me to have a normal life, fine; I'll have
one, starting right now.
"Yes." Buffy had said, turning back to Riley and forcing a smile. "I'd love
to."
She caught a stunned, pained look on Angel's face as Riley enveloped her in
yet another too-tight embrace. Her green eyes had met his brown ones, and
suddenly, she wished she hadn't done it.
Angel's expression had turned hard, and then he'd turned and walked away,
disappearing into the darkness forever for the second time.
Everything from that moment on had been so blurred in Buffy's mind. The
months flew by like minutes. Willow had been selected as maid of honor, and
some old friend of Riley's from the army, Buffy couldn't remember his name
now, had come out to Sunnydale to be his best man. Invitations had been sent
out. Buffy had invited Angel and his entire staff; not to be polite, but
because she'd secretly hoped Angel would come and stop her wedding, take her
away, talk her out of it, and swear that he still loved her. He hadn't. His
RSVP had been marked "regretfully decline" and that was that. The others had
come, and Doyle had told her that Angel sent his best wishes for her future
and happiness, but that was all she'd heard of him.
Within four years, their daughter had been born. They'd named her Audrey
after Riley's mother. They had owned a "lovely" farm house in Iowa, leaving
Sunnydale behind for good now that they no longer needed a Slayer. Buffy had
hated it; that house had been so...well, farm-y. The air had smelled like
cattle and hay, the wood smelled rotten whenever it rained, and the roof had
had leaks in it.
Buffy hadn't seen the others as often as she'd liked. She had, however,
attended the weddings of Xander and Anya, Spike and Willow, Giles and Tara,
and even gone to Cordelia's baby shower back when she and Doyle had conceived
their twins. Angel had been invited to all of those events, even though Spike
had grumbled about having "that bloody poof" at his wedding, but he never
came. Buffy had asked Cordy if she was the reason why, to which the former
cheerleader had tactlessly replied, "Probably."
Buffy had colored her hair to about Cordy or Faith's shade of brown when
Audrey was a baby. Riley'd hated it. In retrospect, that was why she'd done
it--to spite him. But she also liked the color, and kept it to this day.
Somehow, Audrey's hair had turned out to be the same hue, which further
annoyed Riley, for some unknown reason.
That was the year he'd died. Buffy thought back to the terrible accident
that had led to Riley's demise. He'd been walking into town when he got hit
by a truck. Buffy felt more tears coming as she remembered having to go to
the coroner's to identify his body. Small wonder; he'd been smashed up almost
beyond recognition.
Audrey had been barely two, and hadn't understood any of what was going on.
The only thing she really understood was that her daddy had been in an
accident and now lived in Heaven, and she got to stay at Aunt Willow and
Uncle Spike's house, and Uncle Xander had let her have all the popsicles
she'd wanted.
All Buffy had wanted at the time was for everyone to go away. Giles and
Tara, now a happily married couple, had constantly been bothering her, trying
to be kind and supportive, making a huge fuss over her. Willow had been like
a worried mother hen, trying to protect her chick. Buffy had been grateful
for Spike and Anya's noncomittal condolences and the way they'd made a
beeline for the food at the wake. Neither had particularly liked Riley, nor
had they been particularly close to Buffy, so they'd given her the space
she'd craved.
Buffy had once again invited Angel and his staff to come to a life-changing
event. And, once again, everyone but Angel had come. At Riley's funeral,
Cordelia and Doyle had been sympathetic and kind, but understood when she
just wanted to be alone. They'd been busy with their year-old "terror twins",
anyway. It was then that she learned of Wesley and Faith's impending
marriage, and how close they all were to each other, and how Angel was a dear
friend to each of them. Buffy had wanted him to come to the funeral, so that
she could just lock herself in a room with him, lay in his arms and cry like
there was no tomorrow. In spite of everything--the years of heartbreak and
difficulty, the pain she'd caused him and vice versa, her marriage, the birth
of her daughter--she still loved Angel and wanted his reassurance above
anybody else's.
After that, she'd decided to get the hell out of Iowa. She had had no reason
to stay any longer, and she'd wanted to move on to a better scene, where she
wasn't stifled by the overly farm-like atmosphere Riley had said would be
good for her.
Why she had chosen Montana, though, no one would ever know. She'd moved from
someplace rural, backwoods and farm-y to someplace even more rural, backwoods
and farm-y. What was nice, however, about this move was that the others had
all come with her. Her mother had an apartment in town, as did Xander and
Anya; Spike and Willow had found an immense house overlooking a lake about
four miles from Buffy's place, and Giles and Tara had settled into a cozy
house with a white picket fence and lots of room for Giles to keep his books
in. Of all of the couples who had married in the Scooby Gang, those two had
probably surprised her the most; Tara was so mousy and shy, and Giles so
absorbed in his books that they seemed hopelessly mismatched. No one could
really say anything about age differences; Spike, after all, was 136, and
Anya was 1132.
Buffy had gone through several jobs after Riley died; receptionist,
secretary, telemarketer. Basically, anything with a phone. Finally, when
Audrey was about three, Buffy had opened a store in town. She sold bath oils,
organic make-up, incense, and the like. It was actually a perfect job for
her, and she was very successful at it. It would seem like she had nothing to
be unhappy about.
But Angel. She missed Angel. Everything she'd done, every achievement
through the years, she'd always thought of him. Wondered if he'd be happy
that she was living the normal life he'd wanted her to have so badly; so
badly he'd left.
Not that she was still angry. The fury and the pain had long since
dissipated, leaving only an intense feeling of longing. And loneliness.
Buffy polished off her bottle of sherry and got up off the sofa, sliding the
prom photo carefully back into its place behind her wedding picture.
She ran out to her car through the rain and quickly drove over to Willow's.
She didn't bother knocking, merely went inside and shouted, "Hey, guys! I'm
here!"
"Hey, Slayer." Spike greeted her, his mouth full of nails as he studied the
instructions for how to put together a bench that would later be a front
porch swing. Buffy stifled a laugh at the incredulity of the scene before
her: William the Bloody, her former archnemesis, was a happily married man
assembling a porch swing.
"Any reason you're not doing that in the garage?" Buffy asked.
Spike looked aghast at the thought. "It's leaking in there! I'm not going
out there, just to get wet. Don't care if I am getting sawdust and sandpaper
all over the carpet."
"Yeah; we'll probably have to replace it." Willow said, coming in from the
kitchen. "Hi, Buff!" They hugged. "What's up? How come you're not at work?"
"It's today, Will." Buffy explained.
Willow eyed her sympathetically. "I was hoping you'd forget."
"I nearly did, until Audrey pointed out that it was springtime and I looked
at the calendar." Buffy sighed. "The anniversary of prom night. It's been
twelve years; shouldn't I be over it by now?"
"One would think." Spike muttered from over in the corner.
Willow reached over and smacked him upside the head. "Ignore him, Buffy."
"I just...I can't get him out of my head, Will. This is so pathetic. All
these years, getting married, having Audrey, burying Riley..." She sighed. "I
still love him."
Willow squeezed her shoulder. "If it makes you feel better, I still love Oz."
Spike growled angrily.
"A little." Willow added, quieting him down. "Love doesn't just go away,
Buff. Even moving on with your life doesn't really do that."
"I know, but..." Buffy sighed. "Am I going to be crazy about him forever?"
"Well, no, not forever." Spike said. "You are going to get old and die, you
know."
Both women shot him deadly glares. Spike muttered something and went back to
his building.
"Well, Buffy, how crazy about him are you?"
"Crazy enough that I want to drive out to L. A right now and try to get him
back." Buffy admitted.
"Well, then, you've got two choices; you can either stay here and live your
life the way it is now, or you can try and go back for Angel." Willow said.
Buffy didn't notice the looks she and Spike exchanged over their shoulders.
Buffy bit her lower lip, thinking hard. If she went to L. A, and faced Angel
for the first time in ten years, it could possibly lead to heartbreak and
humiliation. But if she stayed here, in Montana, with her house, her shop and
her daughter, she'd always wonder. Always wonder what she and Angel could've
had.
Buffy slowly got to her feet. "Willow, could you take care of Audrey for a
couple of days?"
Willow beamed at Buffy. "Of course; we'd love to have her."
Spike hid a grin and pretended to be very interested in the instructions
he'd been reading.
Buffy hugged Willow tightly. "This is crazy."
"But you're gonna do it anyway, so you might as well get started." Willow
told her with a smile.
Buffy smiled back. "Bye, Will." She grabbed her keys and her purse, and all
but ran out the door and to her car.
Spike wrapped his arms around his wife's waist. "So the Slayer and my poof
of a sire are finally getting back together."
Willow grinned. "Yep."
"Took them long enough." Spike muttered before covering Willow's mouth in a
kiss.

~*~*~*~*

I remember that time you told me, you said,
"Love is touching souls,"
Surely you touched mine

Buffy stopped at Giles and Tara's on her way out of town. She wasn't going
to call her mother or Xander, people who'd put doubts in her mind. She just
needed to turn managment of the store over to Tara for a few days and then
she'd be on her way.
She ran up the front steps and knocked on the door, waiting impatiently for
Giles to answer.
"Oh, hello, Buffy; what a surprise. Do come in." Giles greeted her, stepping
aside to let her in. The years had been kind to him, and he hadn't aged very
much at all. Buffy suspected that Tara had her ways of making him feel like a
young man, but Buffy didn't really want that image in her head, so she merely
admired the pictures on the walls of her ex-Watcher and Willow's
ex-girlfriend on vacation in Maui, skiing in Vermont, and getting married
back in good ol' Sunnydale. They looked so in love and so happy that she
couldn't help but smile.
She quickly turned to Giles. "Tell Tara that she'll have to manage the store
for a few days; I'm going out of town, and I'm not sure when I'll be back."
Giles looked confused. "W-What? Why? Buffy, where are you going?"
Buffy took a deep breath. "Los Angeles." She hesitated a moment before
adding, "To see Angel."
Giles looked surprised. "Oh." He went over and dropped into an easy chair.
"Oh."
"Yeah." Buffy murmured, nervously picking at her cuticles. "Anyways, I kinda
wanted to get going now, so if you could tell Tara--"
"Buffy, are you sure about this?" Giles interrupted.
"Seeing Angel?" She asked softly, brushing a dark curl off her forehead and
tucking it behind her ear.
"Buffy, seeing him after all these years will be opening up a can of worms.
You didn't exactly part on the best of terms, and you've been married, had a
child and been widowed since the last time you saw him. A lot has changed.
You're not a naiZve sixteen-year-old girl any more." Giles told her.
"You don't think I've thought about this?" Buffy sighed. "I'm scared as
hell. What if too much has changed? What if he doesn't love me any more? Like
you said, we didn't part on the best of terms, what if he's still hurt that I
married Riley?" She sat down on the couch across from him. "Giles, I see you
and Tara together; you're so in love and so happy. You were made for each
other. And Willow and Spike...they love each other so much, they can't even
think straight half the time. And don't even get me started on Xander and
Anya.
"But me...I don't have anybody. And even when Riley was alive, I didn't have
that. I loved him, I married him, we had Audrey; but I was never really,
truly happy or intimate with him like you are with Tara. I never felt
connected to him. Chances are, if he'd lived, we'd be divorced now, because
we never had true love or passion; we just weren't soulmates like the rest of
you are. We didn't have what you guys have." Buffy paused."But I had that
with Angel. I'd never loved like that before, and I've never loved like that
since. He knew me; deep down, in my soul, he knew me. And he loved me. We
were close, we were connected. We had a real, true love like some people can
only dream about. And I'm going to get it back."
Giles climbed out of his chair and came over to give her a hug. "Good luck
to you, my dear."
Buffy hugged back. "Thanks, Giles. I-It means a lot."
Giles pulled back and smiled. "Well, what are you waiting for? Go. Go get
your soulmate."
Buffy smiled, and walked out the door.

~*~*~*~*

You're in my blood like holy wine
You taste so bitter, so bitter
And so sweet
I could drink a case of you,
darlin', and still be on my feet
Oh, I would still be on my feet

Doyle looked at his cards. This was not a good hand. He tossed two in and
took out two more, a bead of sweat trickling down his forehead. He grimaced.
Now he had an even worse hand. He swallowed hard. He couldn't lose this game.
It would mean--
"Ah! Gin!" Wesley cried triumphantly from the other side of the table, then
showed off his cards.
Doyle groaned and banged his forehead against the table. He sat up,
determination in his eyes. "Two out o' three."
Cordelia rolled her eyes. "Men."
"Princess, unless you want I should have to make the coffee around here for
the next three weeks, don't laugh." Doyle sipped at his drink before setting
it back down on the table.
"You know, Wes, you should quit while you're ahead." Faith put in to her
husband.
"Oh, come on, darling; you don't think I can beat him again?" Wesley asked
her.
Angel shook his head in bemusement at them all. In ten years, nothing had
changed these people. Well, okay, that wasn't entirely accurate; the birth of
her children had mellowed Cordelia and made her more tired. Alan and Delia
ran amuck all over the office, constantly breaking things and bickering every
second. Doyle served as somewhat of a mediator between the twins and had to
somehow solve every single fight they had, or face the wrath of Cordelia. She
was in charge in the family, and both her husband and her offspring feared
and respected her. Both Alan and Delia knew to stop arguing when their father
was sent to settle their fights, because if they didn't let him handle it,
their mother would, and none of them wanted that.
Doyle often quoted Bill Cosby to explain this: "I am not the boss of my
house. I don't know how I lost it, I don't know where I lost it, I don't know
if I ever had it. But I've seen the boss' job, and I don't want it."
He heard groans as Doyle and Wesley finished another round of gin, with
Wesley as the loser.
"What'd I tell ya?" Faith smirked.
Wesley groaned. "Why don't I quit when I'm ahead?"
Faith kissed him softly before remarking: "Because, doofus, you never are."
angel shook his head. What a pair those two made. Wesley, with his crisp
white suit and neatly combed dark hair, his nicely polished glasses and
clipped British accent; Faith, in her short, slinky black slip dress and
leather jacket, her once black hair grown down to her waist and bleached
white blond; they certainly looked mismatched. But somehow, the way she was
perched in his lap, exchanging adoring smiles with him as she insulted his
card-playing skills and ate pretzels, looked natural. They were all truly in
love.
Angel's heart twinged with agony as he thought back to when he was that in
love, a beautiful girl in his lap, smiling at him and telling him with her
eyes that she loved him. He shook his head. Ten years had passed; now wasn't
the time to think about that.
Cordelia sat on the table. "Doyle, go pick up the kids."
Doyle looked up at her. "I'm in the middle of a game, princess."
Cordy sighed, then snatched his cards out of his hand and did the same with
Wesley's. She showed off both hands for the others to see. "You won. There.
Now go."
Wesley groaned. "Three out of five." He begged. Faith thwacked him over the
head.
Doyle grinned and pushed himself away from the table. "Sorry, Wesley; I'd
better get a move on before my dainty and gentle beloved decides to break my
arm."
Cordelia scowled at him. Doyle just smiled before he pulled her off the
table and into a kiss.
Faith threw a handful of pretzels at them. "Take that outside!"
Wesley smiled up at his wife and squeezed her thigh under the table.
Angel sighed and started for his office for a brooding round when he heard
the door open and all the other noise in the room stop.
"Oh my God..." He heard Faith utter incredulousy.
Angel turned around slowly and his knees nearly buckled at the sight in the
doorway.
The dark-haired woman standing there in jeans and an oversized, earth-toned
sweater hardly looked the same, and yet no different at all. Ten years had
done little to age her, and marriage and motherhood had ripened her beauty.
The sparkling green eyes he'd once loved to gaze into stared around the room
as she looked apprehensive.
Angel slowly stepped forward to where she could see him. He swallowed hard
as he softly spoke the name he hadn't said out loud in ten years. "Buffy?"
She brushed dark curls out of her face and tucked them behind her ears
before softly replying, "Hello, Angel."