"There has to be something we can do for her. She's working at a fast food restaurant, Severus."

Ah, that explained her obvious irritation. He could feel it coming off of her but had no idea what had happened to cause it. He didn't think he'd done anything, but as he recalled from observing married wizards over the years one never knew for certain they hadn't. And it was generally in the wizard's best interest not to initiate the conversation to find out what the trouble was.

"I'm not sure what you want or think that I can do from Cokeworth or Scotland, Hermione."

"Please don't cop an attitude with me, Severus. I don't either. I'm just voicing my frustration for a friend that I know is struggling, knowing you and I have both been in a situation where it felt hopeless. I'm just coming up empty of ideas and she's truly struggling. I'm not sure what would happen to her if she lost Dawn. Willow and Xander are her friends, but they're not Dawn. I think after losing her mum and their dad being missing that she thinks Dawn is the only thing she has left."

He sighed. She was right, of course. Her friend had not … adjusted well to being brought back from the dead. He couldn't blame her, truthfully. As far as he knew she still had not admitted to anyone her dalliance with Spike. For that matter, he had no idea if it had only been the one.

He knew what he was about to say could potentially turn into an argument, but it had to be said. They did not hold back from one another. He wasn't going to start now despite how odd this situation was. How many other people could lay claim to personally knowing two people who came back from the dead?

"The problem is, Hermione, that she is essentially a college dropout with really no marketable skills."

He held up his hand to stop her from saying anything yet. He knew exactly how what he'd just said sounded. He saw her mouth open to say something as a rebuttal, or worse to voice her anger at his realistic and uncaring statement. Fact of the matter was, though, it was the truth. He was not lying or embellishing the facts. He knew what he had said was not kind or flattering, but he would not start lying to her now.

"I'm not insulting your friend, truthfully. I would have said much the same thing about you almost five years ago."

"This is you trying to help?" she bit back.

Ah. Yes. There was that anger in her eyes that he swore he never wanted directed at him.

"Am I speaking an untruth, Love?"

She sighed, setting her head on her arms with a frustrated sob (she wasn't truly weeping he knew). That, though, was an indication that she understood as callous or uncaring as what he'd said sounded it was factual. And as there was nothing personally either of them could do they had to deal in facts. Nor were either of them personally responsible for the situation they were discussing.

The fact was, Buffy Summers had very few marketable skills that lent to her doing anything but exactly what she was doing.

"No," she muttered.

"I'm sorry, I'm not sure I heard you."

"If you ever want to get laid again, Severus …"

He chuckled but stifled it almost immediately when she lifted her head and glared at him. A truly pissed off Hermione Granger - at him - was not something he wanted on his hands.

Ever.

At least she hadn't threatened to call off the wedding.

He could take joking about their sex life. He knew she wouldn't be able to keep good on that threat. At least not for very long.

The wedding, though? That wasn't something he wanted her to joke about calling off. He was coming around to the fact that she did in fact wish to marry him, but those types of jokes even at times he knew she was annoyed would be too … close to home.

"Fine. Do you trust me?"

"You know that I do," she said.

No pause, no hesitation. That made his heart … swell. That this witch really did trust him. Deep down, fundamentally, he knew that she did. She wouldn't be set to marry him if she didn't. To hear her answer his question immediately despite her believing he was bordering on insulting not just her friend but her as well made him love her all the more.

"I wouldn't be talking to you about this if I didn't, Severus. I just don't understand why the Council doesn't offer her a salary, or at the very least pick up her household expenses and make it at least appear as if she's employed by them so she doesn't have the state breathing down her neck. They manage to keep the entire world clueless about vampires and demons yet they can't come up with a story as to why she's a freelance whatever she could be?"

"You approach that avenue with Lydia or any other contact you still have there that you think would be amenable to such a suggestion. I will return, likely in a few hours."

"Wait. We have the weekend off. Together. At home. You're leaving?"

He sighed. He didn't want to leave. He enjoyed their weekends together at home immensely. No students. No house elves. No interruptions. However, she wanted her friend's situation repaired and he knew she would not think of the avenue he had.

"I'm confused. You are lamenting your friend's situation. I have thought of a possible solution. Do you wish my assistance or not?"

"Well, yes. I just didn't expect you to pick up and leave."

He knelt on the floor next to her then, peering at her as her head was still resting on her arms where she sat at their kitchen table.

"I am not leaving you, Hermione. This is not me leaving. This is me having a possible solution I wish to pursue. I am not upset with you or anyone else in the least. I will be back, likely in a few hours. Possibly tomorrow if it takes longer than I anticipate. Hopefully I will return with some assistance for your friend or an idea for some."

"Fine. Thank you. Be safe," she lifted her head from her arms then, settling it against his shoulder just under his chin. He sighed at the position. He kissed the top of her head, closing his eyes at the subtle scent that was Hermione surrounded him.

"Knowing you are here waiting for me? Absolutely."

He stood then, kissing her lightly. "Behave."

She snorted softly. "I'll try to refrain from having any wild keg parties or orgies."

"At least without me present."

She laughed then.

"Why is that funny?"

"You'd be in Azkaban if I had an orgy with or without you present."

He thought about that for a second.

She wasn't wrong.

At all.

Double standard he supposed because he had experienced sex before her. Not the kind of sex they had but he still had.

"You may be right."

"May be? Really? Should I go to Knockturn Alley…"

"That is unnecessary."

Really. The very idea.

"Go, Severus. I promise that I will be keg and orgy free when you get back. I promise."

He apparated a ways from their home before making and using an unregistered portkey to get where he intended on going, not at all disappointed in the change in weather. It was late here, even better. He presumed the person he intended to see would be most likely be awake and alone.

He walked into the old building, begrudgingly admiring the craftsmanship. It was a work of art and if he was here under normal circumstances he would likely take hours to admire it. The stories this old hotel could likely tell.

"Can I help you?"

Severus spun around. It wasn't often, even post-war, anyone was able to sneak up on him. Of course this man had had far more than twenty years to perfect being stealthy. He'd seen enough pictures over the past couple of years to know this was who he was here to see.

"I apologize for the intrusion on your time so late. My name is Severus Snape. My fiancée is Hermione Granger."

"I've met Hermione," he said and Severus nodded.

He knew this to be true. Hermione had mentioned Angel upstanding him in the surly personality and broodiness departments. He had never met him and had no idea if his name would be familiar to him, which was why he'd tacked on Hermione's relationship to him as part of his introduction.

Silence as vampire assessed wizard and vice versa. Severus waited for a signal that he could pursue the reason he'd sought the vampire out. He had come here uninvited and unexpected. It was the polite thing to do.

"What can I do for you, Severus?"

"She is concerned for Buffy."

"Why? I just saw her a few months ago."

Severus bit back a scoff. A few months ago? This woman, the Slayer, he supposedly loved was resurrected and he allowed months to go by without truly checking on her? Maybe he didn't love her after all. Or Severus truly was a sap.

She'd been resurrected. She hadn't survived a battle or been administered CPR moments after she'd stopped breathing. She had been dead and buried in a casket in the ground for months. Unlike this man who'd know he was going to rise after being turned, Buffy had not planned on returning.

"She is … not adjusting well to what her friends did to her. For her. I imagine you have a different perspective of things on whether it's to or for."

"You wouldn't be wrong."

"The local state agency is threatening to take her sister away from her. A sister, you and I both know, didn't truly exist until a little over a year ago. So the state agency shouldn't even have a file on her, but they do. Buffy has firmly given her heart to the girl and sworn to protect her no matter what despite feeling lost and not understanding why Dawn is even still here with Glory defeated. I admit I admire that about her. It makes me see why Hermione grew fond of her as she did. And truthfully, it's the reason I'm here. She is a strong woman, and everyone seems to be telling her right now that she's an adult now and to suck it up because she is on her own. She's twenty years old!" Severus sighed at that, glancing at Angel. Neither of them were doing anything good at the age of twenty. Both men were very aware of that. "She has elected not to return to college and started working at a fast food place. I understood her desire to quit and help take care of her mother. However, this suggests to me she will not go back, Dawn is only fifteen so she has years yet of the girl being dependent on her. I also believe that she is engaging in some behaviors that suggest she is not overly happy to be back. Hermione has been in communication with a witch named Tara," he said.

"Willow's girlfriend? Why not Willow?"

"Tara is afraid Willow is misusing magic and reached out to Hermione as a result. I know that's being worked on. I wanted to come to you because you strike me as being similar in mindset as myself when it comes to the women we love."

He hoped he wasn't wrong here.

He was fairly certain this man still loved Buffy despite leaving her.

Severus could understand the mindset.

He often thought Hermione was too good for him and questioned whether he should really strap her to him for decades.

Add on being a vampire and the curse involving his soul. Well, he could understand why this man thought walking away was for the best. He knew that if he decided for some reason he was not good enough for Hermione, could not live up to the expectations he himself had in mind for how a wizard should treat his wife, that he would let her go. He would still move heaven and earth to ensure that she was safe, provided for, secure and not wanting for anything from the shadows. It was how he was wired. Not that he had any intentions of letting her go. He could understand the mindset, though.

"Go on." So he did still love her. Those two words confirmed it. He wouldn't have told him to go on if he didn't.

"She needs help and evidently believes she's not supposed to ask for it despite never doing this before now and being thrust into it versus electing to. She needs assistance with her home. Perhaps you could find it within your means to purchase it for her. I assume after this long you are more than prepared for a few rainy days. I'd suggest a job, but I realize that may be out of your reach from Los Angeles."

"Things are complicated…"

"I understand complications, trust me. You want her to lose custody of her sister? To starve? To have to forgo her calling because she's working nights at the local McDonald's, or whatever they have in Sunnydale?"

"Of course not."

"I'm only here because Hermione is in tears over Buffy's situation. She is helpless to assist from  Britain and there's nothing for her to research or do in this case. So she feels as if she's letting her friend down. You seem to care deeply about her. Her father has not been in contact with either of them from my understanding since before their mum was sick."

"The house I am in a position to assist with. I'll have to think about how without her knowing it's me. I'm not sure what I could do about a job."

"Really," he said, gesturing around them. "You put this together. I'd imagine you could have a Sunnydale office and have her on the payroll. Or find someone in Sunnydale you can discreetly suggest use her for security purposes. Having her actively slaying has to be more valuable than her being dead or destitute."

"She doesn't know that you're here?"

"Of course not. Neither does Hermione. I figured if you aren't willing I would visit the magical community in Sunnydale and see if someone is willing to employ her since she's at least familiar with the world."

"Right."

Silence as vampire assessed wizard. Severus wondered if the vampire knew any of his story, knew he'd taken the Dark Mark and what it was for.

"I will see what I can do," he said, offering Severus his hand. He felt … odd shaking hands with a vampire, but he had come here unannounced so he figured he should. It was the polite thing to do and this man hadn't thrown him out on his ear for intruding and being presumptuous that Angel would assist the Slayer.

"I do not have a phone number but Hermione does. I can leave that for you should you need anything."

"Okay," he said. Severus wrote down her phone number and email address.

"She is going to approach the Council to see if they are willing to assist. I haven't been left with the impression that they will but I suppose anything can happen."

"I couldn't believe she was really alive. I thought," Angel said, staring at the paper Severus had written Hermione's information on. "I thought I'd lost her. I left, wanting her to have a chance at a normal life, not something they could write a horror book about. I thought she'd found it with Finn, but I overestimated him it seems. Then she was dead. I've loved one person in two hundred fifty years, Severus. I always knew she'd die before me. Slayers don't have long lives. I assumed she'd have more than a couple of years and just thought she deserved better than living in the shadows all of the time."

Would he have left after her senior year of high school if he had known her death would come as soon as it did? It was an interesting thing to think about.

"Well, she has the chance again, but what man that you think would be good enough for her, could provide for her, is going to be interested in her given her current situation."

"Have you seen her?"

"Not since Christmastime. She seemed," he shrugged.

He was unsure what specifically he should reveal. If Buffy hadn't talked to him in months, who knew how she felt then compared to now.

"Unsure of her purpose. Upset with her friends for bringing her back. My life was saved. Not in the same fashion, mind you, but I get the impression that she was like me in that she had prepared to do her duty and die. I've heard she did once, that you and Xander found and saved her. I imagine anything after that moment she considered somewhat borrowed time though she's never said that but speaking as one whose life was in danger for almost twenty years I can guess."

There were times after hours of torture he assumed the end was nigh more than once. He'd often wondered how he survived any of it.

"She wanted to know how I felt, she said. I was bitter at first, well I'd been bitter my entire existence truthfully, but really didn't get over that bitterness until Hermione started her correspondence with me. Regarding you, by the way. She reached out to me independently of the Council to see if I knew how to cure or delay the effects of Killer of the Dead until a cure could be found."

"She did?"

"Yes. She doesn't make friends easily, but when she does she is loyal. To a fault in my opinion, but I'm probably not one to pass judgment. I have never experienced true loyalty of any kind until her. Buffy is her friend. Buffy had called to tell her what was going on. I think Hermione took it personally that Buffy asked her about it. She didn't want to fail her friend. She wanted to help you in order to help her friend."

"I'm not sure she'll take my help," he said. "Our lives are on different paths now. I'll always be there for her, but what you're asking me to do. Get involved. She may not want it."

"Who says she has to know? Where there's a will there's a way," Severus said.

He managed for six years, seven counting getting Gryffindor's sword to him, to bail Harry and his cohorts out of trouble and still convince everyone he was on the side of Voldemort and the Death Eaters.

Okay, bail them out may be overexaggerating but he did save their necks more than once.

"Thank you for seeking me out. I truly had no idea she's been struggling. I assumed if she needed me she'd reach out, but she must be determined to do it on her own."

Severus bowed his head politely. "May I leave from here?" he asked.

"Oh yeah. No antiapparation wards or anything."

"Thank you," he said.

"And congratulations, Severus."

It was not the first time during this meeting that he'd used his given name and he'd like to take offense to that, except this man was quite a bit older than him.

"Like Hermione, Buffy doesn't make friends easily. So if your fiancée is someone Buffy feels safe and comfortable confiding in you obviously found someone exceptional."

"Thank you. She is indeed just that and I vow until the day that I die not to forget how very blessed I am that Merlin, or the Powers, saw fit to allow someone like her to accept and love me."

"It's a heady feeling, isn't it? Being accepted warts and all? Knowing someone can love you for exactly who you are. Despite all of the foul, despicable deeds you've done."

"It is," Severus agreed.

Until this vampire he'd never met anyone who might understand why he was rather flummoxed at Hermione's love for him. At her ability to look past six years of cruelty and unfairness directed at her to accept him and a future with him. He'd say that there was a difference in that Hermione had heard about his past misdeeds over and over again during various trials before she'd left the wizarding world.

Severus was aware, though, that the time Angel had been without his soul had not been fun, even though that was before Hermione had met her friend. Buffy had told Hermione that they had shared dreams, too, after Angel came back so Buffy was able to see some of his victims. And after losing his soul and tormenting her and killing her watcher's love interest … she forgave and loved him. Was willing to go without physical intimacy in order to be with him.

"It seems your Hermione and Buffy have that in common as well. Thankfully for you, one of you is not a vampire. I'll be honest as much as I love her, I'm not sure I could take to the sun after I lost her. She would be able to if our situation was reversed, but that's just Buffy. She has rarely not done the right thing. I'd be afraid of who I'd become if I had seventy years to love her, the last twenty or so likely spent with her resenting me because she's seventy and I look the same as I did two hundred years ago. I love her too much to have her hate me. I hate hurting her, but I'm just not strong enough to do it."

"Understood," Severus said with another nod. "Be well, Angel."

"You as well," he said.

Severus apparated out of the hotel that Angel Investigations used as their headquarters and appeared close to where he'd arrived earlier. He made another portkey and returned to a different spot than he'd left from before apparating home.

Hermione was sleeping on the sofa when he arrived. Judging by the book and partially empty tea cup and fruit and cheese plate, she'd done so in an attempt at waiting up for him.

He grazed her cheek with the back of his hand, touching some of her glorious curls with his pinky finger. She stirred with a yawn and a stretch, displaying her body to him in a most enticing way. If she were in their bed and not the sofa …

Well, something to think on later. Though her over the arm of the sofa held great appeal. There was something about him readying her briefly with his mouth, or a lubricant when he really cared to be stealthy, and sliding into her while she was still only partially awake that appealed to both of them.

The first time she'd suggested that he could wake her up in such a fashion he'd been certain he'd heard wrong. Certainly, proper witches didn't … surely, Narcissa Malfoy or Molly Weasley wouldn't … 

And yet she'd gone into quite graphic detail while he was thrusting in and out of her how wet and turned on she got sometimes before bed thinking about him waking her in just that way because he woke earlier than she most days.

The first time he'd given into this … request? fantasy? of hers he thought for sure she'd wake up and hex him or cry rape. Something. That had been so far from the truth and had led to a very, very enjoyable morning in bed. The morning or two following that she'd woken him by going down on him well before his alarm was set to go off.

He hadn't minded one bit.

He decided there and then, propriety had no place in their bedroom. Or living room. Or kitchen. Or the stairs. (That had been a little more taxing on his knees than he'd anticipated when he initiated.) She could tell him any idea she had and barring Azkaban he would indulge her. And she knew it, too.

He'd briefly wondered if other witches of her age bracket suggested such things, but then stopped that thought process. The less he knew or imagined about the sex lives of Ginevra Potter, Luna Lovegood, or Susan Bones (soon to be Longbottom he thought he'd heard) the better off he probably was.

They were happy. They were pleased. What was wrong with that?

She grinned at him when she fully comprehended that he was home. And as if she knew what he'd just been thinking. How very much he needed to feel her. All of her. After that conversation with Angel. To reaffirm that he truly had her, had love in his grasp. She ran her fingers along her top, unbuttoning it to reveal nothing but skin beneath it.

He was the luckiest bastard in the world.

That was all there was to it.

She slid onto her knees, facing the back of the sofa, and shaking that lovely arse of hers at him.

"I missed you," she whispered.

"Me, too," he said.

He should perhaps feel like the biggest prat or emasculated man admitting that so easily when he'd been gone less than five or six hours total. He did not feel either.

"Show me how much," she said, wordlessly removing the silk knickers she had on before he could even truly admire them but leaving the top in place he noticed.

"Gladly," he said.

No. There was absolutely nothing wrong with this at all, he mused as he slid inside of her.

Story ©Susan Matthews/APCKRFAN/PhantomRoses.com