Disclaimer: I don't own Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Angel or any of the characters mentioned in either cannon.
Author's Note: Special thanks to frosty600 for being my Beta for this fan-fiction. (: I absolutely adore her! This is my favorite fiction so far, so I hope you enjoy it as much as I do. For now it's innocent, but I can't make any promises it will remain that way. ;) Please review this fiction. I love hearing your opinions and it makes me want to write a lot more.
Dedication: ashesatmidnight & frost600: We all share a love for Liam. I wrote this story for ashesatmidnight, but I could not have done it without tossing a couple of ideas around with ashesatmidnight and frost600. I hope you both enjoy it. I could not have done it without you! XOXO!
The young blonde jerked as she suddenly became aware of more around her, her keen senses alert as she took in her new surroundings. There was so much greenery, so much life. Before it she had been in limbo, waiting, always waiting. The last thing she remembered before was the look of horror on Dawn's face and all that had followed.
Buffy's feet had carried her closer and closer to the portal, and she could not help, but to think of Angel, his beautiful smile, his soft caresses, his velvety voice, and the love hidden both in his kiss and his eyes. Even after everything that had happened, he was still the one. Tears streaming down her cheeks, she swan dived off the ledge and every memory they had ever made together helped ease the pain. It was the end and he was there to comfort her.
And then there had been nothing. Buffy just existed in a place with no walls, no ceilings, no floors. She was just there in a place completely void of everything, where all she could do was wait and wait, for something … anything to happen. Death, nothing, and then life again.
Brows knitting in confusion, she studied the scenery, noting the undisturbed and flourishing nature around her. It was truly a place words could not fully describe. But then she realized, it had been described, almost perfectly. Everything about it seemed familiar, something she had seen in her mind's eye as she listened to the description. A smile curled at the corner of Buffy's mouth as she reached out to touch the wild Irish rose. It could not be it, but what else could it be?
Closing her eyes, she felt the cool hand gliding along her thigh in a tender and yet relaxing motion. His voice was like velvet on her skin as he described the one place he had escaped to during his human life. As Liam he needed that escape, that only one place could truly provide. Nothing and no one could give him that, and he had never shared it with anyone before, but he had chosen to share it with her. Buffy remembered how special she had felt when Angel told her of his life as Liam, and so she had listened intently and then clung to every memory he shared with her.
Not able to bring herself to take the rose, Buffy looked down and half-expected to find the clothes she had taken her final leap in, but she did not. The clothing that adorned her body was a bit revealing, seductive even. The fabric was soft and clung to every curve of her body, effortlessly enhancing them. Sashaying her hips from side to side she heard the tinkling sound of the decorations of her attire. Could she be? Combing her fingers through her locks, she noticed that they were a bit longer, a bit wavier, but still golden. Her eyes went lower and she did not have to really look to know that she was barefoot. Buffy could feel the moistness of the grass and the coolness of the dirt right beneath it, but what did catch her eye where the anklets that favored the bangles on her wrists.
"A gypsy…" The word slipped past the same pouty lips that Angel used to capture with his own. Buffy's heart thudded in her chest at the thought of him, and then it hit her. Angel. Human Angel. Without a second thought, Buffy took off running toward the direction she remembered Angel describing when he had told her how to get there, had revealed his secret place. Her rate only increased more as she ran, her skirt and her hair blowing in the wind her feet continued carrying her to her destination.
Adrenaline pumped through her body and she felt her Slayer abilities kick in. For the first time, she was truly happy about being the Slayer. Using her abilities to her advantage, Buffy only stopped running when she made it into town. Skidding to halt, Buffy panted as she looked around. Where could he be? From the look of the sky, it was midday and she had no idea of his whereabouts except for the pub and the place she had just left. She doubted he would be at the Pub so early. Feeling a surge of disappointment, Buffy took in the town only to catch her appearance in a window nearby.
Her skin had been kissed by the sun until it reached the point where she almost looked exotic. Her emerald eyes stood out because of the deepened tan and the natural flush of her cheeks that came about from running. Even without the hair products and the makeup, she was beautiful, utterly so. Her hands skimmed over her figure in awe, her hips sashaying unbeknownst to her at first. It felt natural. She was truly the picture of an Irish Gypsy. Squealing in delight, she covered her mouth with dainty hands as she noticed people looking in her direction.
The town was populated with the noblemen, the peasants, and what felt like the rest of the population of Galloway. It felt as if every single one of them were staring at her. She noticed the whispers, her blush deepening to a deep red. Buffy could feel the heat in her face. Why were they looking at her so intently?
Nervous, Buffy backed away from the glass and continued about her way, careful to pay close attention to everything so she could find her way back if need be. Stomach growling, she felt lost on what to do. She did not have any money nor did she have a place to stay. The magic of it all started to wear off when she realized she was homeless and could not find the one person who she knew. A look of horror formed on her face when another realization was had. She knew of him, but he did not know her or anything about her.
"Oh no." Those emerald eyes glittered with tears until they spilled down her cheeks. If she were a gypsy, she was definitely a very lost and lonely gypsy. A helplessness rose inside of her causing more tears to spill as she walked through the town. Coming to rest against a wall, she ended up sliding down it to hide her face and her tears behind her hands. Her shoulders slumped, she felt so defeated. She was in a new place, a century long before her own, with no real knowledge of anything or how to gain things that would help her survive.
It was not long before a gentle voice thick with an Irish accent reached her ears. "Don't cry, lass." The voice was so close and so she looked up and into the blue eyes of a stranger that seemed so familiar to. She felt insane. Why did he look so familiar? She could not know him.
The look on the man's face mirrored her own. Surprise, confusion, but then his features transformed to show his own realization. The Irishman extended his hand to Buffy, his hold supportive, but gentle enough not to alarm her. Relieved that a stranger was being so kind, Buffy took his hand and then she felt it. He was a demon, but the pull wasn't as strong. Brows knitted together in confusion once more as she pulled her hand free. There was no fear inside of her, nor the urge to fight or flee. The usual impending danger and evil she typically felt was not present. Could he be a good demon?
Narrowing her eyes, she opened her mouth to speak, to get her questions answered. Before she could managed to do so, the Irishman spoke again.
It caught her completely off guard, but she went immediately into slayer-mode as she took a different stance. What the hell was going on? Buffy looked wildly around her, before looking back at the demon dangerously. She was not going to take her eyes from him again until she got answers. He looked completely human, handsome even, but she had to be sure he was not following her or hurting her. The way Buffy reacted was the only confirmation the Irishman needed to be completely sure it was her. Who else could it be? She looked every bit like he remembered her to be, possibly even more beautiful than he remembered. He felt a guilt at his attraction to her, but he pushed it away. She was not his to be attracted to. Buffy was taken and he would not be the man, nor the demon to challenge that. He felt the urge to try and protect her, to keep her safe and make her feel comfortable in his presence. He needed her to trust him.
Standing up straight, he chuckled when he noticed she was still in slayer-mode. There was no need for her to be so defensive, but he would not have been able to confirm her identity without it. He intended to help her. She still looked so lost, and his plans were to erase that feeling by helping her. First, he decided, he would introduce himself after confirming once more that it really was her. Maybe she would believe him and maybe just knowing him would gain some of her trust.
A polite smile greeted her as he spoke again. "Buffy Summers." There was no question about it. He knew her. Why couldn't she remember him? Buffy frowned, "Who are you?" The Irishman only smiled in return after noting the fire in her emerald eyes, yes he would definitely help her. He would help them both.