In the Space of Desire
Epilogue
A Seedy Bar
"You want another glass?"
The dark haired man slouched at the bar nodded almost imperceptibly. "Fill 'er up, lass. I need ta do some forgettin' tonight."
The bartender tucked her shoulder-length brown hair behind her ears and frowned, her hazel eyes full of concern. "Are you sure? You've had a lot to drink already, sir. Maybe you should just call it a night."
The man looked up at her and she was struck by how much sadness filled his blue eyes. "Please just pour me another glass."
She nodded and reached for a nearby bottle, quickly filling up his glass. Then she faced him, asking softly, "Do you want to talk about it.... er...?"
He smiled slightly. "Me name is Doyle. And what might yer name be?"
"Cassie."
"Cassie." He said the name softly, letting it roll off his tongue. "I like it. It suits ye well."
She smiled. "Thanks." Then she laid a hand on his arm and said, "Now are you going to tell me what's bothering you, Doyle? Or do we have to keep making small talk?"
Doyle shrugged. "I've always been good at small talk. Comes from hangin' out at too many pubs, I reckon." He glanced around at the few customers scattered throughout the bar. "Besides, yer needed here. An' I wouldn't wanna distract ya from yer work."
Cassie laughed softly. "It's okay, really. I have a break coming up. And Jennifer's here, too. She'll take care of the others for a while." Cassie walked around the bar and sat down on the stool next to Doyle. "Now, why don't you start at the beginning."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The next day, Sonya walked down the halls of SHS with her head held high. The other students, used to seeing her in a wheelchair, gave her strange looks filled with curiosity, but she simply ignored them. It wasn't any of their business anyway. As she was walking, she passed by Cordelia and her group of 'Cordettes' lounging by a row of lockers.
She could overhear Cordelia's latest tirade. "...and so my parents are springing for a trip to the Caribbean. It's going to be a blast! Plenty of fun in the sun over Spring Break. Too bad you girls can't say the same thing. But I guess not everyone can be as fortunate as, well, me."
"But isn't two months an awful long time to plan ahead?" one of the Cordettes asked.
Cordelia shrugged, tossing her hair over her shoulder. "You have to buy your tickets in advance if you want first class..."
Sonya rolled her eyes at Cordelia's selfishness and kept walking. Soon she'd reached her destination: the library. She walked through the doors and found the cavernous room empty. She'd expected it, but the library seemed depressing without Giles's lecturing, Xander's ready wit or Oz's comforting presence.
She walked over to the desk muttering, "OK, where would the secretary put the incoming mail. I don't know why Giles had to have me bring it to him in the hospital anyway."
"Because he's a control freak about all his responsibilities?"
Sonya looked around to see Buffy standing there. There was a slight smile on the blonde Slayer's face, but Sonya could also see the same feelings of loneliness as well. Somehow, though the link was no more, it seemed as if they were a little more in synch with each other than ever before.
"What's up?" Sonya asked, as Buffy joined her by the desk.
Buffy sighed. "I'm just going through the day. It's kind of hard to pretend everything is normal after all that happened last night."
"I know... and the severe lack of sleep, too." The girls shared a tentative smile. Then Sonya blurted out the question she'd been longing to ask. "What happened with you and Xander?"
Buffy's face fell a little. "It's still kind of up in the air." She wouldn't say any more than that.
Sonya looked down at the desk, shuffling papers around in a search for the elusive mail. "I guess it's a little late, but I hope it all works out for the best -- however that might be."
"It's not too late," Buffy said. "Thanks."
They were silent for a moment, but before it could become strained, Sonya said, "Buffy, why don't you finish looking here, and I'll check Giles's desk?"
"Sure," Buffy agreed, and started looking for the mail.
Sonya walked into the small office and surveyed the desk. She didn't see a stack of mail, and was about to tell Buffy so, when she noticed a corner of an envelope sticking out from under the desk pad. (The secretary wouldn't have put it here, would she?) Sonya wondered, pulling out the mystery envelope. She soon saw it had already been opened, and she was about to put it back, when she noticed the embossed seal of the Watcher's Council in the return address. Remembering the last thing Giles had said he was reporting to the Council -- the truth about her accident and Buffy's promotion to active Slayer -- Sonya pulled the letter out of the envelope and began to read. What she saw made her gasp.
"Hey, Buffy! Come in here!" she called.
Buffy walked in. "What? I couldn't find the mail..."
"Well, I guess there isn't any new mail, but this old mail kind of takes center stage, wouldn't you agree?" She handed Buffy the letter.
After the other girl read it, they shared a concerned, worried glance. Buffy was the first to speak. "I wonder what's going to happen now?"
Sonya stared at the letter with unseeing eyes. "I guess we're going to England for Spring Break."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Images pounded through his brain, disjointed and confusing, overlapping each other in a blur of motion as a wave of pure agony passed through him. It was hard to discern one image from the next because they were all coming so fast. Faces flashed by: some familiar, some not. He saw a young blonde girl with a wooden stake in her hand. A dark haired boy standing at her side. An older man with glasses and an uncertain look on his face. A young man with his leg in a cast sitting next to a brunette girl who had eyes that bespoke of more pain than one would think possible in one so young. The boy's arm was wrapped around the brunette's shoulders protectively. And then there was a face he recognized... a man in his early thirties with black hair, wearing a tweed suit. And then an overwhelming sense of danger looming on the horizon. Three young girls, two of which he recognized from the blur of faces that he'd seen just a moment ago and one beauty who was unfamiliar, being held at gunpoint. And something dark that he couldn't see clearly, but that sent chills down his spine nonetheless. And then he knew where he had to go: England. Soon.
Doyle jerked upright in bed, the sheets falling down around his waist. He placed a hand to his head and groaned. "Great, just what ya need, Doyle. Another head pounding', mind numbin' vision 'o doom to make yer life even more complicated 'an confusin' that it already is." He paused in his diatribe, glancing around his darkened room. "An' now, to top it all off, yer talkin' to yerself again."
He sighed, reaching over to grab a shirt off of a nearby chair where he'd dropped it last night. Pulling the soft, cotton garment over his head, he then kicked off the sheets and swung his legs over the side of the bed. The chilly floor felt good against his bare feet.
"Doyle?" came a soft, sleepy voice from behind him. A feminine arm snaked around his waist. "Are you alright?"
"Yeah, luv. Just a little headache is all. Nothin' fer you to worry yerself over."
Cassie sat up and wrapped both of her bare arms around his shoulders, slowly kissing up the side of his neck. Her brown hair was mussed from sleep but her eyes were awake again and sparkling. "Did you have a bad dream?" she whispered, her breath tickling his ear.
"A migraine," he answered. "I'm a wee bit stressed as I found out... uh... earlier today that I've got ta go ta England tomorrow. A friend 'o mine's in trouble."
Epilogue
A Seedy Bar
"You want another glass?"
The dark haired man slouched at the bar nodded almost imperceptibly. "Fill 'er up, lass. I need ta do some forgettin' tonight."
The bartender tucked her shoulder-length brown hair behind her ears and frowned, her hazel eyes full of concern. "Are you sure? You've had a lot to drink already, sir. Maybe you should just call it a night."
The man looked up at her and she was struck by how much sadness filled his blue eyes. "Please just pour me another glass."
She nodded and reached for a nearby bottle, quickly filling up his glass. Then she faced him, asking softly, "Do you want to talk about it.... er...?"
He smiled slightly. "Me name is Doyle. And what might yer name be?"
"Cassie."
"Cassie." He said the name softly, letting it roll off his tongue. "I like it. It suits ye well."
She smiled. "Thanks." Then she laid a hand on his arm and said, "Now are you going to tell me what's bothering you, Doyle? Or do we have to keep making small talk?"
Doyle shrugged. "I've always been good at small talk. Comes from hangin' out at too many pubs, I reckon." He glanced around at the few customers scattered throughout the bar. "Besides, yer needed here. An' I wouldn't wanna distract ya from yer work."
Cassie laughed softly. "It's okay, really. I have a break coming up. And Jennifer's here, too. She'll take care of the others for a while." Cassie walked around the bar and sat down on the stool next to Doyle. "Now, why don't you start at the beginning."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The next day, Sonya walked down the halls of SHS with her head held high. The other students, used to seeing her in a wheelchair, gave her strange looks filled with curiosity, but she simply ignored them. It wasn't any of their business anyway. As she was walking, she passed by Cordelia and her group of 'Cordettes' lounging by a row of lockers.
She could overhear Cordelia's latest tirade. "...and so my parents are springing for a trip to the Caribbean. It's going to be a blast! Plenty of fun in the sun over Spring Break. Too bad you girls can't say the same thing. But I guess not everyone can be as fortunate as, well, me."
"But isn't two months an awful long time to plan ahead?" one of the Cordettes asked.
Cordelia shrugged, tossing her hair over her shoulder. "You have to buy your tickets in advance if you want first class..."
Sonya rolled her eyes at Cordelia's selfishness and kept walking. Soon she'd reached her destination: the library. She walked through the doors and found the cavernous room empty. She'd expected it, but the library seemed depressing without Giles's lecturing, Xander's ready wit or Oz's comforting presence.
She walked over to the desk muttering, "OK, where would the secretary put the incoming mail. I don't know why Giles had to have me bring it to him in the hospital anyway."
"Because he's a control freak about all his responsibilities?"
Sonya looked around to see Buffy standing there. There was a slight smile on the blonde Slayer's face, but Sonya could also see the same feelings of loneliness as well. Somehow, though the link was no more, it seemed as if they were a little more in synch with each other than ever before.
"What's up?" Sonya asked, as Buffy joined her by the desk.
Buffy sighed. "I'm just going through the day. It's kind of hard to pretend everything is normal after all that happened last night."
"I know... and the severe lack of sleep, too." The girls shared a tentative smile. Then Sonya blurted out the question she'd been longing to ask. "What happened with you and Xander?"
Buffy's face fell a little. "It's still kind of up in the air." She wouldn't say any more than that.
Sonya looked down at the desk, shuffling papers around in a search for the elusive mail. "I guess it's a little late, but I hope it all works out for the best -- however that might be."
"It's not too late," Buffy said. "Thanks."
They were silent for a moment, but before it could become strained, Sonya said, "Buffy, why don't you finish looking here, and I'll check Giles's desk?"
"Sure," Buffy agreed, and started looking for the mail.
Sonya walked into the small office and surveyed the desk. She didn't see a stack of mail, and was about to tell Buffy so, when she noticed a corner of an envelope sticking out from under the desk pad. (The secretary wouldn't have put it here, would she?) Sonya wondered, pulling out the mystery envelope. She soon saw it had already been opened, and she was about to put it back, when she noticed the embossed seal of the Watcher's Council in the return address. Remembering the last thing Giles had said he was reporting to the Council -- the truth about her accident and Buffy's promotion to active Slayer -- Sonya pulled the letter out of the envelope and began to read. What she saw made her gasp.
"Hey, Buffy! Come in here!" she called.
Buffy walked in. "What? I couldn't find the mail..."
"Well, I guess there isn't any new mail, but this old mail kind of takes center stage, wouldn't you agree?" She handed Buffy the letter.
After the other girl read it, they shared a concerned, worried glance. Buffy was the first to speak. "I wonder what's going to happen now?"
Sonya stared at the letter with unseeing eyes. "I guess we're going to England for Spring Break."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Images pounded through his brain, disjointed and confusing, overlapping each other in a blur of motion as a wave of pure agony passed through him. It was hard to discern one image from the next because they were all coming so fast. Faces flashed by: some familiar, some not. He saw a young blonde girl with a wooden stake in her hand. A dark haired boy standing at her side. An older man with glasses and an uncertain look on his face. A young man with his leg in a cast sitting next to a brunette girl who had eyes that bespoke of more pain than one would think possible in one so young. The boy's arm was wrapped around the brunette's shoulders protectively. And then there was a face he recognized... a man in his early thirties with black hair, wearing a tweed suit. And then an overwhelming sense of danger looming on the horizon. Three young girls, two of which he recognized from the blur of faces that he'd seen just a moment ago and one beauty who was unfamiliar, being held at gunpoint. And something dark that he couldn't see clearly, but that sent chills down his spine nonetheless. And then he knew where he had to go: England. Soon.
Doyle jerked upright in bed, the sheets falling down around his waist. He placed a hand to his head and groaned. "Great, just what ya need, Doyle. Another head pounding', mind numbin' vision 'o doom to make yer life even more complicated 'an confusin' that it already is." He paused in his diatribe, glancing around his darkened room. "An' now, to top it all off, yer talkin' to yerself again."
He sighed, reaching over to grab a shirt off of a nearby chair where he'd dropped it last night. Pulling the soft, cotton garment over his head, he then kicked off the sheets and swung his legs over the side of the bed. The chilly floor felt good against his bare feet.
"Doyle?" came a soft, sleepy voice from behind him. A feminine arm snaked around his waist. "Are you alright?"
"Yeah, luv. Just a little headache is all. Nothin' fer you to worry yerself over."
Cassie sat up and wrapped both of her bare arms around his shoulders, slowly kissing up the side of his neck. Her brown hair was mussed from sleep but her eyes were awake again and sparkling. "Did you have a bad dream?" she whispered, her breath tickling his ear.
"A migraine," he answered. "I'm a wee bit stressed as I found out... uh... earlier today that I've got ta go ta England tomorrow. A friend 'o mine's in trouble."