Reparations

by Ali

Rating: A nice, round PG87
Disclaimer: I am only a muscial theater student, not Joss.
Authors notes: This takes place befroe Angel is vamped. And I love you, Amy, for bothering with me!

I regarded him silently-as always. He had been drinking again (what else wasnew?); I knew by the way he stumbled along the ruts that my home town of Galway called roads. It was an overcast night, though it was a new moon, so the cloud cover made little difference. The street lamps cast odd shadows, making me more aware of my surroundings.

Unconsciously, I smoothed my dress over my thighs and checked to make sure the stake I kept hidden there was within easy reach. I knew that my dress lay flawlessly, but I worried anyway. What if it was tonight? I had to look my best for him. I had worked too hard to mess things up now.

Ever since I was eight, I had been in love with him. My father worked for his, side by side with him, something I very much envied. He was six years older than me, and that really didn't affect my feelings for him; age was of little importance when parents married off their children. Our class difference - he was the son of a wealthy merchant, and I the daughter of a
shipwright - was what kept me in my place, never making bold advances at him, like other girls.

During my reverie, he had managed to blunder past me. I cursed - he couldn't getaway, not tonight-and went off after him, lifting my too-heavy skirts high over the puddles.

Surprisingly, he wasn't that hard to find. I was worried, because prophecy pointed to him as one to be turned (the One with the Angelic Face seemed to fit him well enough by me), and it was supposed to happen during the new moon. Tonight. But his would-be sire was not forthcoming, so I gladly watched him trudge up a ladder into his second story rooms before heading home myself.

Father had been up late reading; I could tell because his face was pressed against a book, coated in drool. I smiled indulgently as I woke him and shepherded him off to bed. Caleb, my older half-brother and Watcher, happily supplied Father with books on mythology to pacify him that his oldest daughter was going out, fighting monsters every night.

Personally, I thought the Council might have picked somewhere more exotic, like London or Paris, where there were sure to be plenty of vampires to slay, rather than Galway, Ireland, capital of nowhere, but Caleb insisted they had their reasons. I was sixteen then, already having been the Slayer for two and a half years.

Personally, I was quite glad that Caleb had interpreted the prophecy wrongly. The idea of him as a vampire made my head spin.

"Alison," I recognized the stern tone that meant 'report your patrol now, or suffer the consequences, but I brushed him off, ignoring his sputtering protest.

I smiled as I entered the girls' room, and watched my sisters sleep peacefully. Maeb and Alwyne, the twins, nearly fourteen, were curled around each other in their bed. Rae, the youngest girl, was sprawled over our bed, but had the decency to wiggle over for me.

"You'll make all of the bad people leave, right?" she whispered in her sleep. This was our bedtime tradition. Tonight, however, I had a hard time getting my customary 'of course' out, and simply nodded. She smiled in her sleep, rolled over, and did not bother me again. I didn't sleep the whole night.

The next morning, at breakfast, no one seemed like themselves, even Aedan, the youngest of us (and the most chatty) was quiet. I brushed it off, but I could tell my family was relieved I had thwarted prophecy. I wasn't so sure, myself.

On occasion, when the staff was running short at the shipyard, I was allowed to do some small task here and there, while Maeb and Alwyne looked after the younger ones. I relished those days, not to be forced into housework, and to be near him.

Today, unfortunately, was not one of those days. And, on top of it all, we had to make soap, one of my most hated chores.

By some miracle, we managed to finish nearly all of it before lunch, though our hands burned with lye so much we found it rather hard to eat. I hastily finished my portion of the work, and left the twins in charge so I could go to the cliff overlooking the shipyard and watch him work. He was a gorgeous man, and he knew it. There was a nearly endless supply of whores at his fingertips, and he certainly took advantage of it. But watching him work in the shipyards (his father said that he needed back-breaking work now to be able to properly run the business later) was ten times for me what one of his whores was to him. He preferred to work shirtless, something I certainly did not object to, and, all though it was autumn and the nights were chilly, the days were still plenty warm. He practically glistened, his dark hair rumpled as he restacked boxes. Meanwhile,
I practically drooled.

My patrols were constant agonizing worry. Caleb wasn't worried about the prophecy any more, but I was. It specifically said 'The One with the Angelic Face', and I vehemently thought that it referred to him. I worried that, though the date given had passed, he still could be taken, so I patrolled almost all night, depriving myself of the little sleep I usually got. I would wait outside taverns for him, and even the whorehouses, hoping to spare him of his cruel fate, knowing that I was killing more people by not doing my regular patrols to try to save him.

I was glad I was following him, though, the night it all came about. As it had been foretold, Darla had him by the throat. I bristled at the sight of her touching him-she was a thorn in my side. I managed to chase her away before he died of blood loss-or drank-but he was woozy from the alcohol and Darla's bite.

I lifted him easily over my shoulder, rejoicing in this one small moment to be able to touch him. He mercifully passed out in minutes, as I trudged home in silence, my hand gleefully on his thigh.

Caleb was still up, and pacing. I realized with a start that it was dawn. Without questions, he helped me lay him down by the hearth. I stayed next to his side, in case he woke.

He did wake after the rest of my family had left the house - Caleb and Father to the shipyard, the younger children to see an aunt out in the countryside for a few days. Father had promised to tell his father that he and Caleb had been out drinking, and he had passed out on the floor.

"Where am I?" I loved the sound of his voice.

"You're in the Summers home, Mr. O'Connal," I quickly answered. He turned his head to look at me. I nearly shuddered with contentment.

"Who are you?"

I blinked in confusion. Your true love, I wanted to say. The woman who has loved you for years. How can you not know me? I cut off the tears that I knew were coming. If he sees me crying, he'll think that I am a silly, emotional girl.

And I heard myself say, "Alison Summers," as if that's all I was. Not the Slayer. Not in love with him. He absently thanked me, collected his cloak, which he had been laying on, and left.

When Darla finished her job three days later, I was busy drowning myself at the shipyard. There would be another Slayer, the world didn't need me. Prophecy couldn't be thwarted by just one small, blonde girl who had to carry the world on her shoulders. If the world wasn't caring enough to let him know even my name, they certainly wouldn't mind dealing with the demon he would be.

Perhaps, sometime in the future, another Slayer will be paid reparations for what he has done.

END.