Work Text:
Angel didn't quite know why he'd brought them here. It held so many memories of an earlier Christmas, one full of hurt and pain and snow. They were memories he could usually ignore, push to the back of his mind and pretend he had forgotten, but tonight, on another Christmas Eve, they seemed closer than they had in years.
But when he looked at the woman sitting on the grass beside him, gazing out over the lights of Sunnydale, he knew he had his answer. This was one of Brianna's favourite places and if he was going to do this, this was exactly where they should be.
The streetlights had been on for a while and now the lights in the houses were starting to join them as dusk turned into night. From this distance, the colours of the Christmas lights blended into the yellows and oranges of an ordinary Sunnydale night, making an evening rainbow that rivalled any you would ever see in daylight. Better than any _she_ would ever see in daylight because she could share this one with Angel.
Without thinking, she shifted closer to him, and he slipped an arm around her shoulders, saying nothing, just watching with her.
When they were small, without knowing where it came from, Brianna and Wesley had discovered they felt protective of Sunnydale. As if they, the Giles twins, all of five or six years old, had a responsibility to the town, to watch over it so that it stayed safe. It was only when they were older that they came to understand that it was because of their parents, because their mother was the Slayer and their father her Watcher. And by then Buffy was no longer the Chosen One, that duty passed to someone younger, and they had the gift and miracle of a father who no longer aged.
But the feeling remained and Brianna often came up here, to keep watch over her town. Wesley, she knew, had his own place he went to, when he could take the time away from Susan and the children, to keep his own vigil, maintain his own guardianship.
Of course, if she thought about it rationally, she'd probably have to admit that neither of them did Sunnydale any good at all, but she never did think about it rationally. This was about feeling and instinct, not reason.
"Penny for them?" Angel asked softly, and she smiled, letting her head rest against his shoulder.
"_My_ town," she said quietly and felt him nod, understanding her the way he always did.
"I feel like that about LA," Angel admitted. "_My_ town."
"Would like a share of mine?" Brianna asked whimsically. "I don't have much else to offer you." Still watching the town, she smiled a little. "It's a problem, being in love with the vampire who has everything. What do you get him for Christmas?" She lifted her head to look at him. "I'd like to give you a rainbow. A sunrise. A picnic under a big, leafy tree with the light scattering through the leaves. But I can't."
"I don't need them." He knew it was going to sound sappy, but he said it anyway. "With you, I don't need anything else."
Brianna laughed lightly. "That's really sweet, Angel. Totally untrue, of course, but really sweet." She leaned in and kissed him swiftly on the cheek. "And I still wish I could give you those things."
This was it. The perfect opening, his chance to say what he had brought them here to say, and he suddenly wasn't sure if he could do it. Nearly 300 years old, Master Vampire, saver of lives and souls, and now he was totally terrified.
He took a deep breath he didn't technically need, and said softly, "I have something to give you."
Brianna turned to look at him, surprised at how white his face looked in the darkness. "My Christmas present?"
He shook his head. "No, that's under the tree at your parents' place, for tomorrow. This is something else."
He pulled her around until she was facing him. He was kneeling on the ground, sitting back on his heels, and Brianna found herself unconsciously copying him, until they were looking directly at each other, their knees just touching.
With his usual air of producing something out of nothing, Brianna suddenly realised that Angel was holding a stake.
"What?" she breathed uncertainly.
He balanced it on his palm and held it out to her, like an offering. "Take it," he said in a quiet, grave voice that allowed no arguments.
She did, as if his words were a spell, controlling her will. She looked at it for a moment - smooth, pale wood, taping to a delicate point, even more beautiful than it was practical - then let her hand drop to her knees, holding the stake lightly, staring up into Angel's stern face, not understanding.
"I want you to promise me something, Slayer's Daughter," her said in a quiet, steady voice. "I want you to promise me you'll use that if you need to."
Her gaze went back to the length of wood resting against her knees. "I don't understand."
"You have to promise me," Angel insisted. Please, Brianna, promise me?"
Still not understanding, she nodded.
"Say it. Say it all."
Brianna did, feeling a chill run across her shoulder blades as the words fell into the night air. "I promise I'll use this if I have to." She looked at him directly, her eyes wide. "Angel, please tell me why I might have to." She wasn't surprised to hear her voice crack on the last words, and she saw his eyes close for a second, as if that hurt him.
"Because I want to give you something," he said in a soft, tight voice she had to strain to hear. "Something deep inside me tells me it's going to be okay, but that could just be arrogance or wishful thinking or something. If I'm wrong, if _he_ comes back, you have to be as strong as your mother was. You have to kill me."
"He?" Brianna repeated, but then she realised she knew exactly what Angel was talking about. He meant the demon inside him, the monster he fought constantly to keep at bay. "Why might he come back?"
Angel suddenly smiled at her, one of his rare, true smiles that made her dizzy and breathless and so, so smug that he saved them all for her. "Because I'm about to do something that I hope will make me incredibly happy."
Despite the serious, almost threatening, undertone to the entire conversation, she found herself smiling back. "And what would that be?" she asked, a touch of teasing in her voice.
He held out his hand to her again, but this time the offering was different. It was a small box, covered in blue velvet, the top curving into an almost-dome. A jeweller's box. He lifted the lid, the movement unusually nervous, and she found herself staring at a ring. A fine, delicate circle of gold, set with three diamonds in an engraved band that lay at a slight angle to the circle of the ring itself. Brianna felt her breath catch as she looked up at him, her heart in her eyes.
She found the same totally naked, honest expression looking back at her. "Brianna," he said softly, as if her name was a benediction. "Brianna," he tried again. "I do love you so very much." His long fingers tightened around the box. "Will you marry me?"
"Oh, yes." She breathed the answer before she could even think of the possible consequences. "Oh, of course."
Now she understood. Understood about the stake, understood about his caution, but when she looked up, all she saw in his brown eyes was her own Angel, smiling at her. He took her free hand and slipped the ring onto her finger. Once it was safely settled there, she caught his fingers with her own and pulled him closer for a kiss.
"I love you," she whispered and saw he was smiling as his lips closed over hers.
This kiss was different from any of the others they had ever shared. Because this time, they both knew they weren't going to stop, frustrated but certain they had no other choice. This time, they were going to take the ultimate risk. And like Angel, something inside Brianna told her everything was going to be okay. Better than okay. Perfect.
But being Buffy Giles' daughter had taught her a few things. She made certain her grip on the stake was sure even as she let herself fall into the kiss.
Angel felt the movement and pulled away slightly. "Remember, Slayer's Daughter. You promised."
"I promised," Brianna agreed, knowing it was a promise she would keep if she had to and, praying that she wouldn't.
"Good," he breathed, and kissed her again.
It was afterwards, lying in each others arms and simply enjoying the company, the memory of the glory they had just shared, that Angel started to shake. Shakes that quickly turned into convulsions, making his hands clench into claws and his body curl in on itself as if that could stop the pain.
Brianna held him through it, begging any Power that might listen that when he finally looked up, it would be Angel she would see in his eyes, not the monster he hated so much.
_It's better to have loved and lost..._ The old clich drifted through her mind and she rejected it angrily. She wanted to love and keep, for always. The stake, smooth as the wood was, felt rough against her fingers and she knew she would use it if she had to. But she didn't want to. She didn't want to lose, she wanted to win. She wanted them both to win. Surely they deserved that. Surely he had earned it by now.
Slowly, Angel's shaking began to ease, his body to uncurl. He felt heavy in her arms, and when he finally did look at her, his face was full of confusion.
"Brianna?" he asked unsteadily, and began to cough.
"Breathe," she told him automatically. "In and out." The words were spoken before she realised how stupid they were. It was another moment before she saw he was trying to do as she instructed, breathing in ragged, shaky breaths. She was about to tell him to stop, that it wasn't necessary, when she realised something impossible.
He really was breathing, getting better with practice, with every breath he took. She stared at him, forgetting to breathe herself when he looked up at her and she could see his soul reflected in his beautiful brown eyes.
"You're breathing," she whispered. "Really breathing."
Automatically, he started to shake his head, then an expression of wonder settled on his face as he realised she was right. He just sat there, getting used to the sensation, the long-forgotten feeling of his lungs sucking in air and expelling it again.
Finally, he reached gently for her hand and pulled it to him, resting her palm against his chest. For a moment, she didn't understand. Then she felt it, the pounding of a living, beating heart, pumping blood and oxygen around a body that needed them to live.
"It's gone, Bree. The demon is gone. There's just me."
"And you're human," she finished softly, hardly daring to believe it.
He laughed, the sound wild and carefree, and hugged her. "I'm human," he repeated. "I'm human, I'm happy, I love you."
"I love you, too," she agreed with a laugh of her own, and buried her head against his chest. She listened to his heart beat while he softly stroked her hair, and she could feel his breath brushing across her head with each movement of his hand.
There was no snow in Sunnydale that Christmas. Only a glorious sunrise and the start of a new future.
--end