The Wheel
Book Three: The Fool
by Cynamin

The only sounds in the room were her breathing and her heartbeat. Which, considering the fact that she wasn’t alone in the bed would usually be a little odd. Buffy awoke slowly, disoriented. She was in a bed she remembered from a year ago, remembered resting here after a night’s patrol. And just like then, she knew the person who lay next to her was the same one as before, one whose heart had not beaten in nearly 250 years.

Stretching, Buffy took stock of herself with some confusion. She didn’t remember how she had gotten here. And she certainly didn’t usually go to bed wearing her nicest dress, or patrol in it for that matter.

Halfway through the motion, Buffy froze. This wasn’t right. She remembered…a battle. And pain. Horrible pain, like she was dying. Voices and fear…she was dead!

Buffy jumped from the bed, too panicked to even cry out. Her heartbeat was loud in her ears. She ran her hands over her dress in an attempt to calm herself. She touched the fabric and came to yet another disturbing revelation – the only reason she was wearing her dress was that she had been buried in it. She barely managed to avoid tearing the fabric as she violently took the dress off.

Standing there, holding her dress in front of her, looking at Angel not moving in his bed, Buffy *knew.* Not the circumstances of her death that she had already remembered. No, instead she knew that Angel had made a deal for her life. She knew the opportunity he had given up. She remembered, in a dream-like sort of way, seeing Angel…speaking with Angel after she had died.

She had died. Her mind was still struggling to grasp that

concept.Leaning against the wall, Buffy sighed. The dress fell forgotten on the floor. Taking a deep breath, she simply stood there for a moment and watched Angel sleep. He had a small smile on his face that was a bit at odds with the heavy bandages on his back and sides. Buffy found herself wishing that she’d been able to fight along side him. But she’d get plenty of chances for that in the future.

This whole time Angel had not moved. Buffy knew, like she knew the deal that Angel had made, that he would still be asleep for several days. He needed to build back the strength that he had given in battle and for Buffy’s return. Buffy didn’t mind, though – she had some things that she needed to take care of on her own before figuring out what to do with Angel. Like telling her mom that she was alive, for one.

Grabbing a shirt and pants from Angel’s closet, she smiled at him one more time. This was all about second chances.

The mansion was very quiet outside of the bedroom. Buffy took her time in walking towards the main room. She stood for a moment just looking at the scene that greeted her before she was noticed. Cordelia sat in one of the chairs, painting her nails, an ace bandage wrapped securely around on foot. Giles sat on the couch, a book on his lap. Willow sat next to him, looking like she was trying to look at the book with Giles, but she seemed to be falling asleep

instead.“What’s this?” Buffy said loudly, in a teasing tone. “Don’t you people have homes?”

All three of them turned quickly. “Buffy!” Willow cried loudly, jumping from her seat. Buffy could see now that she had one arm in a sling. Willow was across the room quickly and enveloped Buffy in a one armed hug. “You’re back. He…they did it,” she stuttered. Then softer, “I missed you.”

“I missed you, too,” Buffy said, mostly because it was the best thing to say in this situation. She looked up to see both Giles and Cordelia standing there as well. “All of you.”

Giles stepped forward to give her a hug, too. “It’s good to have you back, Buffy.”

“It’s good to *be* back,” Buffy agreed. “I’ll try not to die for you again. Twice is enough for any lifetime.”

Giles chuckled at that. “Yes, well…Thank you.”

Buffy turned and looked at Cordelia then. Cordelia did not approach, but she smiled. “Don’t hug me. My nail polish is

wet.”Buffy chuckled. “It’s good to see you, too, Cordelia.”

There was a long, uncomfortable silence. With a twist in her gut, Buffy feared it was the first of many. After all, how did one talk to someone whose funeral you’d attended nearly two weeks ago?

“So,” Buffy said at last, striding the rest of the way into the large room. “I understand I missed one hell of a battle. You are going to tell me all about it, right?” She smiled and waited for them to join her.

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