Buffy felt uncomfortably reluctant to leave Giles’s house after he had performed the ritual to disinvite Angel, using it as a demonstration for everyone so they could replicate it in Buffy’s house and Willow’s. Giles and Miss Calendar planned to cast the spell to restore Angel’s soul as soon as they were alone, leaving them vulnerable and Buffy in suspense.
She didn’t like it, but she had agreed, and anyway, there was more work to be done tonight. She wished them the best of luck and left, along with Willow and Xander, just as the sun was going down.
All three of them seemed to be in unspoken agreement to not talk about Angel or anything else life-threatening, so they talked about school instead. Willow had a long list of the world’s best universities to consider for next year - applications hadn’t gone out yet, but it was already obvious that she could get in wherever she wanted. Each one that she mentioned gave Buffy a painful reminder that she couldn’t follow her friend out of state, but she managed to keep up a front of enthusiasm. It was easy enough to show her pride in Willow’s accomplishments, at least. She truly was extraordinary.
Xander didn’t fully conceal his own dejection, though, and Buffy couldn’t really blame him. His SAT scores had been abysmal, which was frustrating, since she knew he was smart enough to succeed if he had ever seriously put in the effort. He claimed he had never planned on going to college anyway, and Buffy believed him and didn’t blame him for that either, but now he was faced with the reality of all that it meant for his future. If it was hard for Buffy to imagine life in Sunnydale without Willow, it couldn’t be any easier for Xander.
Buffy herself still occasionally fantasized about going away to college, but that felt less realistic every day. Angel was proof that the Hellmouth needed a Slayer on constant duty, even if the Slayer had been the one to unleash him in the first place. Kendra was dead, and that in itself was a result of Buffy’s own lapse in responsibility. She wasn’t going to let anyone else get hurt when she could have saved them.
Then again…tonight was supposed to solve the Angel problem. If Miss Calendar’s spell succeeded, it wouldn’t mean only that Buffy would get her lover back. It could change everything.
Much as she had tried to avoid thinking about what was lost, sometimes she couldn’t help but sink into the memories. There was that one night that she had tried to advance their budding relationship by suggesting a real date, but he reacted with overcautious condescension and they stopped seeing each other until she was roofied by a fraternity cult and he came running to the rescue. Buffy had been infuriated by his attitude, but privately crushed. It wasn’t fair that a breakup could hurt so much when there apparently wasn’t even anything to be broken up.
To make matters worse, it had happened while she was trying to be recognized by the school as Homecoming Queen. She had failed, and the honor went to Cordelia instead. The party felt like an absolute low point in her life…until Angel showed up, stunning and solemn in a perfectly tailored tuxedo, and presented her with an eloquent apology and a corsage.
It was such a satisfying resolution to everything that she practically forgot the argument that had disrupted them in the first place. Now she remembered. Angel’s vague warnings of “one thing is gonna lead to another” and “this isn’t some fairytale” had gained an unsettling significance. Had some part of him known what could happen? Had he been trying to chase her off before he inevitably succumbed to his doom?
No. That wasn’t Angel. He might have had a premonition, but it wasn’t his fault that it had been correct. Buffy’s dreams had given her a warning too, and that had gained her nothing.
“UC Sunnydale’s not bad, though,” Willow was saying, and Buffy realized she had been lost in her own thoughts while the conversation continued and the three of them kept walking. They were already only a few blocks from Willow’s house. “I would have a lot more control over my curriculum there,” Willow rambled on. “And I wouldn’t have to, you know, fly back and forth overseas all the time.”
“I dunno,” Xander countered. “Speaking from the perspective of someone who doesn’t have a choice, seems like a Get Out of Sunnydale Free card is the kind of thing you shouldn’t pass up.”
Buffy looked over her shoulder at him to say, “We wouldn’t just leave you here.” She turned her eyes back to the sidewalk and added, “I wouldn’t leave Sunnydale unprotected. Not unless I could make it safe to live here.”
Just like that, the topic had turned back to matters of life and death, and Buffy hadn’t noticed until it was too late. They covered the next block without anyone speaking.
Willow’s parents weren’t home, and casting the spell over her house was a fairly simple matter. Buffy caught Xander staring forlornly at the empty aquarium in Willow’s bedroom, and wondered if he would chip in to buy her some new tropical fish. Or maybe that wouldn’t even be appropriate. Surprise gifts didn’t sound as fun as they used to be.
After the crosses were up and the incantations spoken, Xander noticed an unmarked envelope and handed it to Willow, who opened it and withdrew a skillful charcoal drawing of a sleeping woman. Buffy’s mother.
She heard Xander’s and Willow’s footsteps and voices behind her as she dashed down the stairs and out the door, but she didn’t stop to wait for them. Angel had never even told her he could draw. Why did he have to save the good stuff for when he was evil?
She didn’t like it, but she had agreed, and anyway, there was more work to be done tonight. She wished them the best of luck and left, along with Willow and Xander, just as the sun was going down.
All three of them seemed to be in unspoken agreement to not talk about Angel or anything else life-threatening, so they talked about school instead. Willow had a long list of the world’s best universities to consider for next year - applications hadn’t gone out yet, but it was already obvious that she could get in wherever she wanted. Each one that she mentioned gave Buffy a painful reminder that she couldn’t follow her friend out of state, but she managed to keep up a front of enthusiasm. It was easy enough to show her pride in Willow’s accomplishments, at least. She truly was extraordinary.
Xander didn’t fully conceal his own dejection, though, and Buffy couldn’t really blame him. His SAT scores had been abysmal, which was frustrating, since she knew he was smart enough to succeed if he had ever seriously put in the effort. He claimed he had never planned on going to college anyway, and Buffy believed him and didn’t blame him for that either, but now he was faced with the reality of all that it meant for his future. If it was hard for Buffy to imagine life in Sunnydale without Willow, it couldn’t be any easier for Xander.
Buffy herself still occasionally fantasized about going away to college, but that felt less realistic every day. Angel was proof that the Hellmouth needed a Slayer on constant duty, even if the Slayer had been the one to unleash him in the first place. Kendra was dead, and that in itself was a result of Buffy’s own lapse in responsibility. She wasn’t going to let anyone else get hurt when she could have saved them.
Then again…tonight was supposed to solve the Angel problem. If Miss Calendar’s spell succeeded, it wouldn’t mean only that Buffy would get her lover back. It could change everything.
Much as she had tried to avoid thinking about what was lost, sometimes she couldn’t help but sink into the memories. There was that one night that she had tried to advance their budding relationship by suggesting a real date, but he reacted with overcautious condescension and they stopped seeing each other until she was roofied by a fraternity cult and he came running to the rescue. Buffy had been infuriated by his attitude, but privately crushed. It wasn’t fair that a breakup could hurt so much when there apparently wasn’t even anything to be broken up.
To make matters worse, it had happened while she was trying to be recognized by the school as Homecoming Queen. She had failed, and the honor went to Cordelia instead. The party felt like an absolute low point in her life…until Angel showed up, stunning and solemn in a perfectly tailored tuxedo, and presented her with an eloquent apology and a corsage.
It was such a satisfying resolution to everything that she practically forgot the argument that had disrupted them in the first place. Now she remembered. Angel’s vague warnings of “one thing is gonna lead to another” and “this isn’t some fairytale” had gained an unsettling significance. Had some part of him known what could happen? Had he been trying to chase her off before he inevitably succumbed to his doom?
No. That wasn’t Angel. He might have had a premonition, but it wasn’t his fault that it had been correct. Buffy’s dreams had given her a warning too, and that had gained her nothing.
“UC Sunnydale’s not bad, though,” Willow was saying, and Buffy realized she had been lost in her own thoughts while the conversation continued and the three of them kept walking. They were already only a few blocks from Willow’s house. “I would have a lot more control over my curriculum there,” Willow rambled on. “And I wouldn’t have to, you know, fly back and forth overseas all the time.”
“I dunno,” Xander countered. “Speaking from the perspective of someone who doesn’t have a choice, seems like a Get Out of Sunnydale Free card is the kind of thing you shouldn’t pass up.”
Buffy looked over her shoulder at him to say, “We wouldn’t just leave you here.” She turned her eyes back to the sidewalk and added, “I wouldn’t leave Sunnydale unprotected. Not unless I could make it safe to live here.”
Just like that, the topic had turned back to matters of life and death, and Buffy hadn’t noticed until it was too late. They covered the next block without anyone speaking.
Willow’s parents weren’t home, and casting the spell over her house was a fairly simple matter. Buffy caught Xander staring forlornly at the empty aquarium in Willow’s bedroom, and wondered if he would chip in to buy her some new tropical fish. Or maybe that wouldn’t even be appropriate. Surprise gifts didn’t sound as fun as they used to be.
After the crosses were up and the incantations spoken, Xander noticed an unmarked envelope and handed it to Willow, who opened it and withdrew a skillful charcoal drawing of a sleeping woman. Buffy’s mother.
She heard Xander’s and Willow’s footsteps and voices behind her as she dashed down the stairs and out the door, but she didn’t stop to wait for them. Angel had never even told her he could draw. Why did he have to save the good stuff for when he was evil?
With one hand, Giles carefully held the book open at the passage in Latin that he needed. The other held the burning sagebrush, which he waved in rhythmic motions, letting its fragrance fill the air.
Jenny was sitting cross legged on the dining table, with the spell’s physical components arranged carefully in a circle in front of her: four lit candles, ancient bones from her personal collection, and the Orb of Thesulah nestled in a basket at the center. Jenny’s eyes anxiously flicked up to Giles’s, and that was all the signal he needed to begin his part in the ritual. “Quod perditum est, invenietur,” he read.
As solemn as death, Jenny recited her own lines: “Not dead, nor not of the living. Spirits of the interregnum, I call. Let him know the pain of humanity, gods…reach your wizened hands to me, give me the soul of the blood-drinker…gods, bind him, cast his heart from the demon realm...return his immortal spirit…”
Giles read another line from the book, and Jenny’s chant went on, and then he read again. At this stage, she was still trying to get the attention of her ancestors, and no magical activity would actually take place until she did. They had agreed to keep it up for as long as they thought there was still any chance that it would work, but Giles could sense Jenny’s disappointment when she ran out of words and went back to the beginning to start over. Her eyes were closed, but her posture wilted, and he wouldn’t allow himself to lapse in his own role to encourage and comfort her.
At one point, he thought he heard someone outside try the doorknob without knocking or speaking. It was locked, and more importantly secured against Angel, but Giles shuddered to think that they had come this close to an unwanted visitor. Fortunately, Jenny hadn’t reacted to the sound.
As for the spell they were casting now, he couldn’t deny feeling some encroaching doubt of his own, but gradually, something was changing. Jenny’s voice sounded steadier, slower, and her breath was becoming heavy. Giles leaned forward to take a closer look at her face and was surprised to see that she was sweating, eyes still squeezed shut as if she were intensely concentrating.
All of a sudden her spine straightened, her shoulders thrust back, and she looked up at the ceiling with wide-open eyes. “Te implor Doamne, nu ignora aceasta rugaciune!” she proclaimed. “Să fie sfera vasul care îi va transporta sufletul la el!”
Giles nearly dropped both the book and the orb. He recognized the Romanian language, but he didn’t understand more than a few words of it, and the spell’s instructions hadn’t accounted for this at all. “Jenny?” he whispered, equally afraid to let this continue and to interrupt it.
There was a long beat of perfect stillness, and then she dropped her head, looking straight ahead as if Giles wasn’t even there. “Oh,” she said casually. “Uncle Enyos?”
Her return to the English language was not nearly as reassuring as he could have hoped. “I know what I’m doing,” she continued. “This is for everyone’s good.”
A pause.
“Uncle, Angel killed you, but the injustice done to you goes so far beyond that. Our family’s vengeance consumed you all your life. Now you can end it. Please, all you have to do is help me.”
A longer pause.
“Yes!” she cried out in defiance. “Yes, I was going to change it! Only to what it should have been in the first place. Angel should keep his soul, so nobody has to suffer at his hands anymore.”
Giles held his breath. He had set down the book and the sage, but couldn’t make the decision to extinguish the candles and risk cutting off Jenny’s connection to Enyos too soon.
“I can do this!” Tears welled up in her unfocused eyes. “I can help make a better world, one where…we forgive, we change…Uncle, I have a life here. I’m in love. I want to stay.”
That was the end, as suddenly as it had begun. Giles had no time to process her last words and how they tore at his heart before she slumped forward, rolling nearly to the edge of the table. He stooped to catch her, gathered her into his arms, then stood frozen with indecision. She was completely unconscious, but her pulse seemed normal. Was she still under a trance?
He glanced at the spell components and saw a golden light flash through the Orb of Thesulah. What that could mean, he didn’t know. The Orb was supposed to discorporate once it had absorbed the soul of the spell’s target, but after the light had passed, it remained, transparent and still. Giles couldn’t wait any longer; he took a deep breath and blew out all of the candles at once.
Neither the Orb nor Jenny showed any change, and Giles made up his mind to seek help from the world of the living. He had to set her down briefly to pick up his keys and open the front door, but he managed to close it behind himself. The phone was ringing as he carried Jenny outside to the car, but he barely heard it. A few stars had pierced the gloom overhead. With some difficulty he tugged the passenger side door open and got her buckled into the seat, and then he gave himself a bare second of rest, leaning against the closed door, before hurrying around to the driver’s side.
The key touched the lock, and a dark shape parted from the shadows in the driveway. A hand was suddenly on Giles’s throat, a demonic face was inches from his own face. He closed his eyes as the keys fell to the ground. Of course. Angel wouldn't give up at a locked door.
Jenny was sitting cross legged on the dining table, with the spell’s physical components arranged carefully in a circle in front of her: four lit candles, ancient bones from her personal collection, and the Orb of Thesulah nestled in a basket at the center. Jenny’s eyes anxiously flicked up to Giles’s, and that was all the signal he needed to begin his part in the ritual. “Quod perditum est, invenietur,” he read.
As solemn as death, Jenny recited her own lines: “Not dead, nor not of the living. Spirits of the interregnum, I call. Let him know the pain of humanity, gods…reach your wizened hands to me, give me the soul of the blood-drinker…gods, bind him, cast his heart from the demon realm...return his immortal spirit…”
Giles read another line from the book, and Jenny’s chant went on, and then he read again. At this stage, she was still trying to get the attention of her ancestors, and no magical activity would actually take place until she did. They had agreed to keep it up for as long as they thought there was still any chance that it would work, but Giles could sense Jenny’s disappointment when she ran out of words and went back to the beginning to start over. Her eyes were closed, but her posture wilted, and he wouldn’t allow himself to lapse in his own role to encourage and comfort her.
At one point, he thought he heard someone outside try the doorknob without knocking or speaking. It was locked, and more importantly secured against Angel, but Giles shuddered to think that they had come this close to an unwanted visitor. Fortunately, Jenny hadn’t reacted to the sound.
As for the spell they were casting now, he couldn’t deny feeling some encroaching doubt of his own, but gradually, something was changing. Jenny’s voice sounded steadier, slower, and her breath was becoming heavy. Giles leaned forward to take a closer look at her face and was surprised to see that she was sweating, eyes still squeezed shut as if she were intensely concentrating.
All of a sudden her spine straightened, her shoulders thrust back, and she looked up at the ceiling with wide-open eyes. “Te implor Doamne, nu ignora aceasta rugaciune!” she proclaimed. “Să fie sfera vasul care îi va transporta sufletul la el!”
Giles nearly dropped both the book and the orb. He recognized the Romanian language, but he didn’t understand more than a few words of it, and the spell’s instructions hadn’t accounted for this at all. “Jenny?” he whispered, equally afraid to let this continue and to interrupt it.
There was a long beat of perfect stillness, and then she dropped her head, looking straight ahead as if Giles wasn’t even there. “Oh,” she said casually. “Uncle Enyos?”
Her return to the English language was not nearly as reassuring as he could have hoped. “I know what I’m doing,” she continued. “This is for everyone’s good.”
A pause.
“Uncle, Angel killed you, but the injustice done to you goes so far beyond that. Our family’s vengeance consumed you all your life. Now you can end it. Please, all you have to do is help me.”
A longer pause.
“Yes!” she cried out in defiance. “Yes, I was going to change it! Only to what it should have been in the first place. Angel should keep his soul, so nobody has to suffer at his hands anymore.”
Giles held his breath. He had set down the book and the sage, but couldn’t make the decision to extinguish the candles and risk cutting off Jenny’s connection to Enyos too soon.
“I can do this!” Tears welled up in her unfocused eyes. “I can help make a better world, one where…we forgive, we change…Uncle, I have a life here. I’m in love. I want to stay.”
That was the end, as suddenly as it had begun. Giles had no time to process her last words and how they tore at his heart before she slumped forward, rolling nearly to the edge of the table. He stooped to catch her, gathered her into his arms, then stood frozen with indecision. She was completely unconscious, but her pulse seemed normal. Was she still under a trance?
He glanced at the spell components and saw a golden light flash through the Orb of Thesulah. What that could mean, he didn’t know. The Orb was supposed to discorporate once it had absorbed the soul of the spell’s target, but after the light had passed, it remained, transparent and still. Giles couldn’t wait any longer; he took a deep breath and blew out all of the candles at once.
Neither the Orb nor Jenny showed any change, and Giles made up his mind to seek help from the world of the living. He had to set her down briefly to pick up his keys and open the front door, but he managed to close it behind himself. The phone was ringing as he carried Jenny outside to the car, but he barely heard it. A few stars had pierced the gloom overhead. With some difficulty he tugged the passenger side door open and got her buckled into the seat, and then he gave himself a bare second of rest, leaning against the closed door, before hurrying around to the driver’s side.
The key touched the lock, and a dark shape parted from the shadows in the driveway. A hand was suddenly on Giles’s throat, a demonic face was inches from his own face. He closed his eyes as the keys fell to the ground. Of course. Angel wouldn't give up at a locked door.
Mom’s Jeep was nowhere in sight when Buffy reached the house. That was good; she must not have come home yet, and if Angel was going to attack her, it would almost definitely be here.
Buffy was still vibrating with anxiety as she went into the house, torn on whether to cast the disinvitation spell immediately or to wait outside for Mom. How long did she have? Giles had completed the spell quickly and easily in his demonstration, but what if Buffy got something wrong? What if Mom came home before she had finished and Angel ambushed her as she was getting out of the car?
On the other hand, if Angel did show up and there was nothing to prevent him from coming inside, that could lead to a fight that Buffy would lose. Her advantage right now was that he didn’t know she had a way to revoke his invitation. She began taking the components out of her bag, trying to calm herself with steady breathing.
Just a few minutes later, it was done, and only then did it occur to her to wonder where Willow and Xander were. She knew that she had run here too fast for them to keep up, but they must have followed. After some consideration, she decided that she shouldn’t be worried just yet. They would probably be here any minute.
Buffy chose a stake and stepped back outside, sitting down on the steps and opening her senses to any sign that someone was coming - the sound of the Jeep’s engine, the voices of Willow and Xander, the dark shape of Angel lurking in the shadows.
Instead of any of them, though, the one she saw was a dark-haired woman in an old dress. She made no sound as she walked toward the house, and her smile was like a child tattling on a sibling. “Hello, Buffy,” she said.
Buffy was still vibrating with anxiety as she went into the house, torn on whether to cast the disinvitation spell immediately or to wait outside for Mom. How long did she have? Giles had completed the spell quickly and easily in his demonstration, but what if Buffy got something wrong? What if Mom came home before she had finished and Angel ambushed her as she was getting out of the car?
On the other hand, if Angel did show up and there was nothing to prevent him from coming inside, that could lead to a fight that Buffy would lose. Her advantage right now was that he didn’t know she had a way to revoke his invitation. She began taking the components out of her bag, trying to calm herself with steady breathing.
Just a few minutes later, it was done, and only then did it occur to her to wonder where Willow and Xander were. She knew that she had run here too fast for them to keep up, but they must have followed. After some consideration, she decided that she shouldn’t be worried just yet. They would probably be here any minute.
Buffy chose a stake and stepped back outside, sitting down on the steps and opening her senses to any sign that someone was coming - the sound of the Jeep’s engine, the voices of Willow and Xander, the dark shape of Angel lurking in the shadows.
Instead of any of them, though, the one she saw was a dark-haired woman in an old dress. She made no sound as she walked toward the house, and her smile was like a child tattling on a sibling. “Hello, Buffy,” she said.
