Author: Christine

E-mail: chrissnoop@aol.com

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Part 5

Dominion Angel Ending 5A

Steam rose from the claw-footed tub but Buffy didn't notice.

Leaning against the large bath pillow, eyes closed, the soothing scent of

lavender wafting around her, the water rippled slightly and constantly with her

shivering but Buffy refused to notice it. She closed her mind off to

everything; the past, the pain, her body's screams for its mate, and the future. She

shut everything else out and tried to relax, but it was impossible; the dream of

Willow dieing flashed before her eyes no matter what she did.

Angelus was no help, Buffy was well aware of his feelings towards her friend.

And while she was also aware that he'd comfort her should she need it, the

underlying indifference about the loss of her best friend would still be there.

But Lord, she needed someone right now. Maybe she shouldn't have left Angel

like that; she needed his understanding, his reassurances...his arms wrapped

around her to soothe her as she cried.

'If you let the witch's death distract you,' Angelus warned in a low growl,

jealously and anger warring within him, 'You'll be as dead as she and then

where would your precious friends be, your precious world?'

"What do you care," Buffy murmured tiredly, her hands floating over her

stomach in the deep water, hanging suspended at her sides in the buoyancy. "You

didn't like her and you certainly don't care if this world goes to hell or not."

'I care if it affects you, lover.' He replied simply. 'You are the only thing

I care about.'

In the next moment Buffy was bombarded with mental images, soft caresses and

slow kisses. Angelus was seducing her from within her and Buffy was too weak,

too tired, too needy to resist. He imagined his mouth moving down her neck,

sucking on the scar, tongue tracing the fine bones of her collar, teeth scraping

over breast.

Buffy gasped his name and couldn't stop her hands from sliding up her torso

to cup her breasts, kneading the sensitive flesh, rolling her nipples between

her fingers. Her hands followed Angelus' images of what he was doing to her,

arousing her own body as surely as he was arousing her.

And from within her, the essence of Angelus smiled: feral, triumphant, smug

arrogance and male domination. He may not have had physical contact with her,

but she wasn't immune to him, would never be immune to him.

She was his.

The water shifted slightly and Angelus growled, knowing already who dared

enter Buffy's sanctuary. Couldn't be helped, the one - the only - person he was

willing to share Buffy with was the one he hated the most. His only

competition, his sole source of jealously was the one he would now let touch his

beautiful lover.

He hadn't had to worry before, when he was in charge of his body; Angel was

the one to leave, he was the one to desert Buffy. But now, now that Angelus was

a permanent part of Buffy, now that she needed Angel's blood, Angelus'

jealously raced out of control. For the first time he had competition. And he hated

it.

But there was no help for it; no matter what Angelus wanted, he knew that

without someone to back her up, someone she could trust in a fight, she'd do

something stupid that would most likely get her killed.

Only if Angelus could guarantee they'd be together forever in death would he

allow that to happen.

Plus, she needed his blood. His, Angel's, Angelus', whomever's but she needed

it; needed his mate's blood. So he'd share. He didn't like it, but he'd do

it.

Angel watched Buffy for a few moments as her fingers continued to play with

her nipples. Stripping quickly, unbearably aroused at the sight, he carefully

climbed into the tub, settling behind her. Luckily the tub was big, something

he (Angelus) had stressed when picking it out years before, so his long legs

lay comfortably on either side of Buffy's, his back against the pillow.

She had yet to notice his presence but Angel refused to think on that for too

long. He knew what Angelus was doing but that hardly mattered. Not when it

would be he, Angel, who finished it, who could physically touch her, who would

be the one inside of her when her orgasm triggered his own. He who would taste

her blood, he whose blood she would taste in return.

Covering her hands with his, Angel allowed his mouth to trace the back of her

neck left beautifully bare with her hair in a loose bun atop her head, along

shoulder blades and down the top of her spine. She moaned and he let one of

his hands drift into the heated water teasing her own heat as she gasped again.

Turning her around, ignoring the water that sloshed onto the tiled floor, and

smirking into her passion drugged eyes, Angel kissed her and settled her atop

his aching erection.

Slowly she moved above him, the twin sensations - mental and physical - too

much for her needy body and when Angel's face shifted, fangs piercing her neck,

Buffy exploded into her orgasm, shuddering around him as he, too, climaxed.

But she refused, even in her almost mindless state, to taste his blood.

No matter what her body screamed at her. No matter that the slayers all

howled in agreement that this was not a threat to them, that he was theirs, their

mate, all theirs and should be treated as such. When he offered his neck, she

(They) should taste, for she (They) needed him.

"Baby," Angel said as he came down from his orgasm, realizing what she as

doing, "Baby you have to, please." He kept his voice soft, but the urgency was

clear behind it.

"No, I don't, Angel," she replied with a lazy smile, and kissed him softly,

once, before climbing out of the tub.

Wrapped in a large fluffy towel she had left on a previous secret visit,

Buffy moved into the bedroom, intent on climbing into the bed and sleeping,

nothing more. Angel had other ideas.

With a scowl and a growl, Angel climbed out of the tub, hitting the drain as

he did so. There was another towel on the counter and he grabbed it, briskly

running the soft material over his body. He followed her into the main room not

letting her run away this time.

The time for running, for not facing their problems was over, long over.

"If you don't, Buffy, the urge will overwhelm you and you'll lose focus.

You're already shaking with the need; I know you are, I can see it, but more

importantly I can feel it. Withdrawal will set in worse then it has and...frankly

I'm not sure what will happen, this is new territory." And that scared him more

than he was willing to admit. "But you're not only hurting yourself, baby. It

hurts me to see you like this."

Angelus, Angel was sure, was growling his agreement. The one thing, the only

thing, they had in common was Buffy. She was first, last, and always. Nothing

else mattered.

"I'm not doing it, Angel, so forget it. I don't need your blood, so drop it."

She found her brush in her bag someone had obviously brought up - bless you

Dawn - and combed out her damp hair, pulling the covers back on the four poster

bed.

"Why are you hurting yourself, Buffy?"

Looking over her shoulder, Buffy gave him a pitying glance. "You think I need

you, Angel? I don't. So get over it. I don't need you and I certainly don't

need your blood. Now," she said, dropping the towel onto the floor, "I'm going

to sleep."

"Is it because I took Cordelia and Wesley to the hospital? I had to Buffy,"

Angel said, wondering how she could be so callus towards his wounded friends,

friends whose wounds he had caused, his own hands had if not his essence. But

Angel understood seething jealously nonetheless, was an intimate friend with

the emotion.

"I know and I understand," she assured him in a flat tone, climbing naked

into the bed. She didn't care that this was their bed and Angel would most likely

be joining her. She was exhausted and the battle was days if not hours away,

her personal support system was decaying (dieing) all around her and she

didn't know what to do.

Buffy desperately wanted him to hold her, comfort from the outside as well as

from the inside.

"Then what is it? Why are you hurting yourself, love?" Angel almost begged,

wanting, needing to know what was going on inside her mind.

"I'm not hurting myself, Angel," came the calm reply, though Angel could tell

she was anything but. "This is how it is. You can't deal, tough. I make my

own decisions; you haven't a say in anything I do any longer. You threw that

right away remember? And I choose not tie someone to me through obligation or

guilt; someone who once claimed to love me and only me."

"I most certainly do have a say!" He roared, stalking closer to the bed, his

own nakedness ignored. "I love you and I am damn well going to make sure that

you're safe and taken care of."

"Is that what you call it? God help me then."

"Call what?" He questioned, lost. When she didn't answer immediately, he went

to the bed, kneeling by her side, looking her straight in the eye and said,

"I'm not giving up, Buffy."

"Oh, but you're so damn good at it, baby," Buffy argued, her voice raising in

volume as she sat up with the satin sheet pooling on her lap hurt and anger

and fatigue and addicting need in her every movement. "Giving up on us."

"You're the one who gave up on us!"

"ME?" She echoed, "I wasn't the one who said he didn't want his life to be

with me! I wasn't the one who said that we couldn't work! You left and never

looked back and moved on and gave up on us!"

"What I said," Angel said in as calm a voice as his rising temper could

manage, trying to clarify his words from all those years ago, knowing that she had

taken them the way he had meant for her to take them, not how he had actually

meant them. "Was that I didn't want your life to be with me not my life to be

with you. I wanted more for you than what little I had to offer."

Buffy stared at her lover - former lover? It was all too confusing - for a

moment as they sat in the same room, the same bed. They had shared so many

memories here; so much of that fateful year was spent in this room in this manor.

Shaking off the past, Buffy closed her eyes, breathing deeply before telling

him what had haunted her since he had walked away from her.

"All I ever wanted was you, Angel. From almost the first moment I saw you

that was it; you were it. As corny as it may be, I found my true love when I was

sixteen and nothing has changed between now and then. But you didn't want me,"

she said, her voice breaking with old and new pain.

"You're as guilty as the rest of my friends and family in forcing me to live

up to your expectations of what you think I should do or be or need without

giving me the courtesy of deciding for myself."

"On the contrary, Buffy," Angel said, laughing without humor, his eyes a

strange combination of hard anger and unbearably sadness, flashing between gold

and red. "You're all I wanted. The only woman I've ever been in love with, the

only woman who's made me feel alive in ways I can't even begin to describe."

He brushed a stray lock of hair off her cheek and confessed, "I wanted to

wake up with you next to me and fall asleep the same way. I wanted to spend every

waking moment, every dream, every sleepless night by your side; damn slaying

or school or whatever else anyone else wanted in our lives. Walks in the

moonlight, along the beach, midnight picnics in the park, I wanted it all and I

wanted it with only you."

He withdrew his hand from her warmth, "But you're the one who didn't fight!"

Buffy's laugh was also without humor and had a faint mocking quality to it

that they both recognized as Angelus. "And again I question me? You said you

wanted something more for me; sunlight and children - which I don't even want,"

she confessed, ignoring the taunting inner voice that wasn't Angelus but the

woman that was pure Buffy, as it reminded her that only with Angel had she

wanted children.

When she had discovered vampires couldn't have children, Buffy accepted it as

part of her life with Angel, it was as simple as that and frankly had never

entered her mind again. Riley certainly didn't change her mind about that,

Buffy never seriously considered a future with the commando and doubted that even

if she had considered one, children with Riley still wouldn't have been an

option she considered.

"And whatever the hell else," she continued angry at him and her own inner

voice as well as Angelus' mocking one as the demon laughed at Riley's expense,

"You decided I should have and left, damn it! YOU TURNED THE HELL AROUND

WITHOUT SAYING GOODBYE AND WALKED OUT OF MY LIFE!"

She shouted at him, eyes flashing a disturbing and all too familiar saffron

and scrambled to the other side of the bed, climbing out and continuing, "What

was I supposed to do? What was I suppose to fight? I thought my actions spoke

for themselves. God knows I was pathetically obvious in what I felt and said

with you."

She backed up a step when he stood but held her ground, refusing to give in

to him. "I fought over and over with my friends, my calling, my watcher, my

mother. I took on the First in my love for you. Hell I fought Angelus for the

right to love you. Was I supposed to fight you, for you as well? When were you

ever going to fight for me as hard as I fought for you?"

Stalking closer, eyes glinting red with his rage, Angel grabbed her bare

shoulders and barely resisted the urge to shake her. "Have the courage to call me

on my bluff, Buffy! One word from you about damning your friends who didn't

know anything about us, about not caring what your mother or watcher thought

about our relationship and any argument I had would have crumbled like so much

dust. Do you have any idea how desperately I wanted to hear something like that

from you? Any idea how badly I waited for those words to leave your mouth?"

She laughed derisively, the slightly contemptuous tone that always

underscored everything Angelus said giving her words an even sharper cut and once again

slapped Angel in the face with the knowledge of just how connected the two

were now. "Excuse me? Hello 250 years old over there! You were supposed to be

older and more experienced, it certainly wasn't me. It was you. I told you what

I wanted, how I felt. I trusted and respected you enough to know your own

heart and open your mouth and do the same."

Buffy smirked at his look, pleased to see her words hitting their mark. "And

even if, by some miracle the Psychic Hotline decided to clue me in to what

Angel was thinking, well gee Angel kind of hard to fight for anything, lover,

when your tail was tucked between your legs as you hightailed it for LA as fast

as you possibly could."

Angel's eyes hardened even more and his fingers convulsed on her shoulders;

what was he supposed to tell her? That the only healthy relationship he had had

- ever - was with her? A girl over two hundred years younger than he? Someone

whom he was never supposed to meet due to too many circumstances? Angel

briefly wondered if they would have found a way to meet, but quickly dismissed that

train of thought.

Yet he still said nothing. His rage spoke quite clearly for itself but Buffy

continued.

"You still would have walked, Angel." Buffy shook out of his embrace, her own

eyes hard with anger and showing, just the tiniest bit now, golden. "Walked

away and left me with those same friends who can't, no matter how hard they may

think they try, understand what it is to be me, all alone no matter who I

surrounded myself with. You knew though, you knew and it still didn't matter. I

wanted the same things as you, damn you. Why couldn't you have stayed? Why

couldn't you have believed in me as much as I once believed in you?"

"Because," he said, purposely gentling his voice, his tone ringing with truth

and passion, his hands back on her shoulders, caressing now rather than

grasping, and the red fading, ever so slightly, from his eyes. "The second we

indulged in what I wanted was the second it no longer became Angel and Buffy but

Angelus and Buffy. Do you not think I don't know what went on these past days? I

was there, Buffy, inside Angelus and I know everything he did and said to you

and everything you did and said back."

His voice was pained now rather then the furious from barely a moment before.

Jealous and hurt radiated off him and Buffy saw those emotions so clearly in

his eyes. She wanted to comfort and coddle and ease his pain because it was

her pain as well. But hers was too great and suddenly on the surface for Angel

to see and Buffy doubted she ever had the chance to bury it again.

"Do you know how jealous that makes me?" He went on; eyes still red but voice

breaking with a bone deep ache. "Knowing that you wanted to be with Angelus

but not me? Knowing what you did together, what he did to your body, things

that I've longed to do and couldn't for fear of that very thing happening? Of

Angelus breaking free and taking over my body, my life, my love?"

He brought his face closer to hers, driving home his point as best he could.

"Do you have any idea how it feels to hear you tell him that you love him in

that same voice you used to tell me the same thing? Jealous, insanely so

because those are words only I should hear. Anger raging through me because I could

do nothing about it and you meant it. Damn it, Buffy, you meant it when you

told him that; I know you did as well as he does."

His voice dropped to an agonizing whisper, "You meant it. And now Angelus has

you all the time, knows what your thinking and feeling better than I. Maybe

better than I ever will. He owns an intimate secret part of you when I wanted

to be the only one to have all of you."

Buffy pulled away, then, out of his loosening grip moving to stand alone,

wrapping her arms around herself, distancing herself from Angel's words and Angel

himself, both physically and emotionally. What he said was true but she

couldn't acknowledge that, not yet. Not when she still had so many hurts to vent,

when she had so much pain to strike out with.

She distanced herself even as she ripped the scabs off wounds that had never

ever healed. Buffy had tried so hard to understand when he left and even

harder still to forgive him; and she had, she had because she loved him, always

would no matter what life threw at them. But then it had been easier to forgive

him than it was herself because Buffy always blamed herself for what happened

anyway; to the world, to people she never met but hadn't saved, to her friends,

but most especially to Angel.

She robbed him of his soul and as a result made him again the one thing he

hated the most, feared the most. And she had reached, finally, a kind of peace

with that. No, no whom was she kidding? Not herself, certainly not Angelus as

her demon listened intently to the exchange of pain between the two lovers.

A numbness of existence had been reached and not much else; nothing else, at

least, until Angelus ripped it all to pieces with the images of Angel and his

new life and love. And with that came the certainty that everything between

was a lie.

Had it always been such?

"Do you know how refreshing it is," Buffy asked, not turning to face Angel,

"The incredible peace to be found, to know beyond a shadow of a doubt where you

stand with someone laying claim to your love?"

Her voice was soft but Angel heard her anyway. And cringed knowing she was

speaking of Angelus and not of him. "To see it demonstrated over and over again,

to feel the intensity of it as if it's a living, breathing thing and that

it's all for me, that it's always been for me and it's as primitive and as primal

for me as I have always been about you?"

She did turn then and went on in that same soft voice, "That while Angelus

didn't say it, he didn't need to for he did show it the only way he knew. Even

when I betrayed him and sucked him from your body into mine he still gave me

the last final truth between us that he loves me."

Angel moved towards her restlessly, anger, rage, and jealously back in his

movements, but Buffy held up her hand to stop him. She was far from finished.

"To know," she continued her voice gaining in momentum and volume though her

body still shook from its craving of his blood, "That when the going got rough

at least the one thing I didn't have to worry about was my lover cutting and

running? Because whatever else Angelus was, and no matter how brutal his first

return was, he was as committed to me in his own obsessive way as I was to you,

Angel; but he wasn't a coward."

Her eyes gave off a golden glow Angel couldn't help but find hauntingly

beautiful and arousing and if her next words chilled him to the bone, they didn't

kill his ardor. He'd let her finish, but then she'd listen to him.

"Knowing that she wanted to be with me but not you," she murmured then in a

different tone.

"How ironic," Buffy went on the strange Angelus tone gone, "I am forced to

move on by you, denied your love as ruthlessly as I was removed from heaven's

grace. You forget, my love, I have access now to a cavalcade of memories;

interesting what I see of the time since you left me. The Jaheiras, the Kates, the

sisters, Darla, Cordelia...remind me, Angel, remind me whose life were you

wanting better? Mine or yours? If I pushed Angelus what else would I learn, I

wonder?"

Angel felt his guilt - and he did feel guilty - her words brought being

steadily overcome by his fury. His eyes took on that blood red tinge again and his

hands clenched into fists hard enough to cut into his palms, but Buffy wasn't

finished.

"No one has to tell Angelus who he loves, who he is, then lead him around by

the nose like a glorified lapdog. I know that no matter how much I bleed from

his words at least Angelus wouldn't lie to me. And any promise he made to me I

know with a bone deep certainty he would keep it no matter what."

She smirked at his expression, angry, jealous, outraged, "Oh yes, Angel," she

emphasized his name mockingly, "Angelus knows me well enough not to dismiss

what I felt for you in terms of shallowly fucking in the sunlight whatever male

came along as if it was all that we ever were. Your soulless demon knows

enough that he loathed you even more than he already did because he blames you for

your cowardice."

Her voice was steady, every word a blow to Angel's heart. His own rage was

almost at the snapping point but he let Buffy finish. Oh, yes, he'd let her

finish; they both, he reasoned in some small part of sanity he still possessed,

needed to vent the past years.

Once she was done, then he'd have his say. It probably wouldn't be anything

she liked, but it was inevitable and he was damn well going to say it.

"He knew I wouldn't have ever been in anyone else's arms but yours if you

hadn't left. Your demon knew enough to treat me as an equal and credit me with

the intelligence to know my own mind and respect my choices. And believed I

wouldn't rob you of your soul again. He knew that no matter how much I ached for

you I wouldn't hurt you like that again, that I would die before I did that."

Her eyes now fully golden kept pace with the rage and pain in her voice. "He

knew enough to trust me. But most importantly he would never be stupid

enough," her voice deepened into a growl, "To tell me the utter hypocritical bullshit

you have spouted here today. Angelus was suppose to be one of the reasons you

left besides that whole 'sunshine, screwing on the picnic blanket to make

mini-rugrats' mantra you clung to whenever I came around. So what does Angel do?"

Her voice was scornful, mocking, and her answer the same way. She wouldn't

let him get a word in edgewise, though she could see the anger welling up within

him, the words waiting to explode. "Well, Angel screws his sire up one side

and down the other trying to release the very reason he shook me off like the

dust of Sunnydale. Please tell us, Angel, what exactly did you think? What did

you think I...Angelus would do if he returned? Stay with Darla?"

The cold laugh had shades of Angelus creeping out once more. And when the

words emerged from Buffy's lips, Angel knew who was truly speaking them.

"Darla was a good fuck and my sire but I couldn't stand her and you damn well

knew it. Besides, whores were always more your style than mine, Liam; I

couldn't tolerate her beyond the moment. But no, as if that piece of idiocy wasn't

enough you compound it with Cordelia Chase. Tell me champion," she mocked -

Angelus mocked, "Was she the second girl in 240 years? In between her calling

you a eunuch and a dumbass of course, or did you win your way between her

thighs with another new wardrobe?"

Buffy tapped her finger against her lips as she feigned sincerity "Oh yes, I

know, I know, she's changed. And because she has and is now a 'champion' like

you, I suppose sunlight, picnics, and mini demons with Ms Moira - since it's

apparent you can procreate - are so much more preferable with the higher being

that she is, right? Unlike some pathetic school girl who trusted you enough to

let you in and love you - Angel and Angelus, soul, demon, and whore-mongering

loser that was Liam - unconditionally."

Buffy smirked coldly, or was it Angelus? They were shifting so seamlessly now

it was hard for Angel to tell. And while that scared him, it did nothing to

diminish his incredible blinding fury. Especially when it became more than

obvious Angelus was, for the moment, in charge.

"Did you cringe when Buff offered you the gift of her heart, her soul and

even her life on a platter with very little effort at all? She wasn't a whore so

it must have really scared you that you were actually going to have to commit

to someone else, to something other than your worthless hide."

Golden eyes stared eerily into his red ones as her mouth twisted into a sad

parody of a smile and Angel knew this was now no longer Angelus but Buffy and

for some reason it scared him more than the scathing words of the demon. The

demon he could deal with and had for nearly a hundred years. Buffy, while the

anger he felt towards her had yet to diminish one iota, he desperately wanted to

help, to love. He only ever had.

"You don't owe me anything Angel," she concluded softly, sadly, "I don't need

your guilt or gratitude. Or your blood for that matter whatever you think.

You're free to be happy, something I wanted for you more than anything else in

this world. You deserve to be happy. You want to thank me? Help me make all the

deaths worth something by stopping the First's harvest then you can screw

your honey as much as you want."

She turned her back to him again, no longer caring how angered he was. She

was tired and wanted only to rest, physically, emotionally, spiritually.

Wrapping her arms about her waist as if to hold everything in, she said, "I'm sure

she'll forgive you soon enough once you tell her Angelus isn't part of the

package anymore. Once you grovel a bit for Cordy, it will be business as usual. One

thing about Cordelia," Buffy continued in a sad voice, all former anger

seemingly drained from her.

"She always knew a good thing when she saw it. But don't you dare tell me I

gave up; it wasn't me, Angel it was you and when this is over you'll leave

again as you always do. You say you love me, only me, but you see I can't quite

forget you wouldn't be here if I hadn't needed the souled vampire to end this

prophecy."

Though he couldn't see her, Angel knew she was crying. Torn between crying

himself and expressing the anger that had always been there and had steadily

broken free of its constraints over the course of her speech, Angel chose to

indulge. His first choice was anger, as he could no longer hold it in, the strains

on its chains too great even for his willpower.

"I can't forget I haven't heard from you in over a year but the moment

Angelus got free he took steps to claim me as his again, to woo me once more in his

own twisted fashion, to love me."

She brought a hand up to covertly swipe at the tears she was sure he knew

were falling down her cheeks, but continued, "I can't forget that even Spike went

and got a soul to prove his love for me. Remember, I once told you that while

I do love you, I don't know if I trust you? I know I trust you Angel with my

life, with the life of my family and friends, but not with my heart because it

won't survive another round of your empty promises."

She wasn't going to utter these last words, wasn't going to say anything more

but somehow the words escaped her mouth. "So go back to Cordelia, Angel; if

she loves you she'll heal and she'll forgive, and she'll come to terms with the

fact Angelus is not Angel. I did," she shrugged somewhat fatalistically, "She

can to."

"Are you finished?"

~~~~~~~~~~

Faith was bone weary but she continued to train the potentials.

"That's not it and you damn well know it," she snapped at the willowy brunette.

God, there were so many of them it was hard to remember names, Maybe they

should start wearing name tags; 'Hi My Name Is Faith, I'm a Slayer' with smiley

faces and stakes decorating the backgrounds.

And then, Faith thought as the girl tried again, they could have a slayer

convention. Wouldn't that be fun.

Block, dodge, jump over sweeping feet - a move she had taught the girls just

an hour ago - then start all over again. Had she really been this...bad when she

began? Faith didn't think so - hoped not - and wondered how the slayer line

ever managed to survive this long.

"Okay, okay, stop. Look, I know you girls don't have the stamina slayers do

but you have something more than the average human." Faith said as she blew

wisps of hair off her face and wished for a hair tie to let the back of her neck

breathe. The fact that the girls couldn't touch her didn't mean that they weren't

giving her a workout. But what to say to these girls? We fight, we die, another

is called, and life as everyone knows it goes on just not with you?

Morbid and depressing and not really the rousing speech she had envisioned.

"You have potential. You are the next slayers," she said, hoping this speech

was going to turn out the way she wanted it to. "You can kick ass better than

any of them, hell, you're destined to do so. But this crap you're showing me

here? Quick ticket to demon lunch; trust me when I say that's not the way to go."

She caught Anya and Dawn out of the corner of her eye. Both were giving her

two thumbs up and Andrew, the dork, looked like he was wiping a tear from

his eye. Why was he here again?

"There are demons out there that are not hindered by the sun," she added,

"So thinking that you're safe in daylight is really only good for vamps and

there are so many other things out there that want to eat tasty little slayers

such as yourself."

Anya nodded and added, "Some demons aren't bad, but a lot that are can move

as freely in the daylight as at nighttime. They don't like to if they're easily

recognizable, but they can. The First is probably in charge of some of them

and I'd bet all your lives It isn't going to wait for nightfall to attack."

Faith looked at the ex-demon once more and nodded. Not the best choice of

words, probably, but she certainly appreciated someone who looked after their

own hide. "This isn't a slumber party children, it's life and death. Yours, the

girl next to you, mine, the worlds. Sounds like a lot of pressure, doesn't it?" She

asked and wondered when she became so damn positive. How'd she get stuck

with this job, damn it?

"So, do you want to live or do you want to die? I've seen you fight together; I

know you're capable of it. You had better start remembering that as time is

ticking and the clock is running out of minutes."

God, could I use any more clichés?

"Okay, once more," Faith said to the groans of everyone. "Once more and I

mean all of it, from beginning of the exercise to the end and I expect everyone

to do it right the first time."

Faith smiled and continued. "And when you're finished, we're splitting into

groups and patrolling the mansion. Nothing like being unprepared for an

attack." She smirked at the groans that again filled the air. "Better get started,

girls. The sooner you do the sooner you can sleep."

Faith moved back to where Anya stood. "I'm going to sleep for a week once

this is over," she said as she watched the potentials go through their routines.

"Maybe take a trip to Vegas or someplace."

Anya nodded, agreeing. "I'm with you; saving the world is a lot harder than

destroying it. Or, in my case, exacting revenge on it. That was the simple life

let me tell you. No doubts, no concerns, no worrying about how to stop some

unstoppable evil. It was nice."

Faith stared at her and asked. "What happened?"

Scowling, the former vengeance demon huffed, "Sunnydale was the wrong

place to exact vengeance in, let me tell you. No matter which timeline you're

in."

At Faith's look Anya added, not really wishing to discuss the past, especially

her ignoble fall from demonic grace. "A wish was made, I came to fulfill it

and it changed the timeline. The spell was broken and I lost my power center

and I really don't want to talk about it any more."

Faith nodded and wondered how she had never heard that story before. Maybe

if they survived the upcoming battle she'd get a chance to ask. The potentials

were wrapping up their practice and Faith was anxious for some sleep.

"Okay, break up into your groups of five." When they had done so, Faith

counted them off. "Group one takes first watch; find..." she thought about it

for a moment wondering who to 'recruit' for first watch. "Anya," she gestured

to the former demon and smiled at her scowl. "Grab whatever weapons you

want or need or just like but make sure you know how to use them, this isn't

the time to practice."

Anya scowled at Faith again but gathered her group and headed upstairs. "No

sneaking up on me, now and watch where you point that, girl!"

Smiling as her voice faded up the stairs, Faith turned to the rest of the group.

"Find a place to crash and get some sleep. I don't want to hear any talking, I'm

beat and I get cranky when I'm tired. And believe me when I tell you that a

cranky slayer isn't someone you want to mess with."

The girls nodded and headed upstairs to find their own rest. Faith looked after

them, her smile fading and her shoulders slumping. Not all of them were going

to survive and it was a fact Faith didn't want to admit.

Unfortunately this was war and war stories didn't always have happy endings.

~~~~~~~~~~

He asked again voice calm and quiet and oh so deadly, "Are you finished?"

When Buffy said nothing Angel took that as an affirmative...and snapped.

With a roar, Angel swung her around, eyes blazing red, lips pulled back into a

snarl over fangs gleaming in the light. Rage poured off him in waves, pounding

into Buffy with a fierceness that would have scared her if she hadn't been so

empty inside. "You're wrong, Buffy," he snarled, fingers again biting into her

shoulders.

"You're wrong and whether you like it or not, whether you admit it or not, it's a

fact. We've both made mistakes, both made choices that shouldn't ever needed

to be made but that's life. Deal with it."

He brought his face closer to hers, eyes boring into her narrowed ones. "Deal

with it because I'm not going anywhere and neither the hell are you, not without

me. Where I go you go, baby. And you better damn well believe that wherever

you are, I will be as well."

Throwing her onto the bed, he stalked her, moving swiftly, silently, looking

like a big jungle cat, graceful, sleek, and beautiful and Buffy couldn't help the

arousal that pooled low in her belly. Whatever her current feelings towards

Angel he was truly the other half of her and she wanted him, she always had

and knew she always would. That was never their problem.

"I will be everywhere you are because I love you and dam us both, you belong

to me." He emphasized in case she hadn't hear him before. "Angelus may have

a firm hold on you and he may be telling you things about the last few years

you'd rather not hear, but you, better than anyone, know how he twists the truth.

Do you really think Angelus is telling you everything? Better still; do you think

he's telling you exactly what he's been up to since he returned?"

He moved closer, still smooth and sleek and deliciously naked, still speaking,

"Honestly, Buffy, you should know better. Angelus takes what he can use and

manipulates it until it fits his need. He may not lie, and I'll admit that, but he

uses the truth to commit falsehood."

He stopped at the edge of the bed, watched as Buffy scrambled up to her knees

still glaring defiantly at him and asked, "Want to know about Kate? She was a

cop who thought she felt something for me until she realized I was a vampire.

She couldn't accept that but I helped her because it was the right thing to do

and you, Buffy, taught me that."

Buffy scrambled higher on the bed when Angel placed a knee on the foot of

the massive mattress, cursing herself even as she did so. "Darla? Toyed with

my mind until Angelus and I were closer to being one and the same than ever

before, until I thought I was losing whatever grace I had ever known in your

arms. I screwed her not to lose my soul, but because it, she, was convenient

and familiar and I was more then lost at that point in my life. I knew I could

never lose my soul with anyone other then you; it was never about sex, Buffy

but always about you and the acceptance and love I felt from you. But more

importantly I couldn't lose my soul with someone even my demon hated."

He slowly crawled up the bed, a predator seeking and finding his greatest prey,

and Buffy found herself trapped. And not entirely sure she hated that notion.

"Cordelia? You of all people, baby, should know that beast called loneliness;

the traps and pitfalls it causes, the hurt and pain. How it haunts you, stalks you,

eats you up inside until the only thing to do is succumb to it.

Succumb or find an alternative. Cordelia was there, she was safe and she

already knew who and what I was. Knew the limitations though losing my

soul with her was about as ridiculous as with Darla."

Buffy was hypnotized by his eyes, a gleaming red that looked nothing short of

beautiful to her. She didn't analyze why, didn't care, she simply added it to the

fact that it was another part of Angel therefore another part for her to love.

Even if his love was something she had just spent long minutes cutting to bits.

His arms trapped her, twin steel bands on either side of her body holding her

prisoner on the bed, pressed back against the headboard and while she was sure

she could escape, Buffy had no desire to. Their naked bodies were inches apart

and still neither touched the other.

"If we're going to accuse, baby, let's start with Faith. Why did you walk away

when, at your behest, I played Angelus; you knew what was coming, you knew

what I had to do and you knew you weren't going to like it, neither of us was.

I did it, we got our information, as you planned, and what did you do? Walked

out on me. Buffy needed time, she needed space after I claimed to be my demon,

the demon you claimed to love because you loved the whole me and he was a

part of that."

His eyes hypnotized her and Buffy wondered if he had that effect on everyone.

Vampires were said to be able to do that, hypnotize their prey, but she had never

seen Angel do so, not even as Angelus. Shaking the question off she lowered her

lashes to shield her expression, she acknowledged his words but said nothing.

She couldn't when her own arguments were thrown back in her face.

Angel, mistaking the reason for her distraction, cupped her face between his

hands. His eyes locked with hers, crimson to hazel and he spoke to Buffy and

Angelus, "Ah-ah-ah, none of that. Tell him to take a number you're here with

me now."

"What was I suppose to say to you, Angel that wouldn't make you feel worse?"

She asked and wrapped her hands around his wrists. Not removing his hands,

but holding him there. "I was seventeen and so very unsure about what would

and wouldn't make things worse. My love, something that was supposed to be

a beautiful thing, released your demon and you paid the price for his rage, the

death and destruction he wrought. All because I couldn't kill you...him." Buffy

shrugged helplessly.

"My joy, my relief, the love I felt having you back with me regardless of the

how or why or what happened.... In the face of your revulsion at what you were

doing for me, what I had asked you to do even just the pretense of Angelus....

How was I supposed to explain that to you? How? And you would have asked;

you would have pursued it until you got some kind of answer. What was I

suppose to say that wouldn't be a slap in the face to your pain?"

Her eyes sparkled with tears now but she was not going to shed them. "I

refused to lie to you but I was so very, very tired of pretending, for everyone

including you, that what happened all that had happened, eclipsed the joy and

peace I felt in having you back even with limitations. When I watched you

acting as Angelus with Faith and it didn't make me feel as destroyed and

devastated as it should have, what would you have done, Angel? Do you know?

Think back carefully on that time and how you felt; could you have handled

knowing the truth of my feelings? I didn't know and I doubt you would have

known either and I wasn't willing to risk you running from me because you

couldn't handle the truth so I did the only thing I could without lying to you

yet still remaining true to what I felt. I kept my silence and gave us both

some space."

"I don't know, Buffy, but not telling me was and is a sure sign that you didn't

trust me. That you thought my feelings for you weren't the same as yours for

me; and that you somehow needed to lie to me." Angel paused, let the pain of

his words and that time in their lives wash over the both of them for long

moments before going on.

"Now the big question; why did I leave you? Why did I throw away everything

we had, all the love and hope and promise?" Angel bent down to lick at the scar

on her neck, smirking at the shiver that raced over her, at the scent of her arousal

strong in the air how her fingers convulsed on his wrists and his name fell from

her lips in a moan of need.

"That one is simple. I wanted you, I needed you, and it was as uncomplicated

as that. Yet it wasn't and we both knew that, both know that. Every second we

spent together was another that taunted me. Was another that we couldn't be

together, couldn't indulge in the basic right of any species to love their mate.

You were a temptation I couldn't resist and had no desire to. And yet I was

forced to because of a curse that was bestowed on me a hundred years before

I ever heard of you, ever met you, ever loved you."

Lowering his lips to hers, his tongue snaked out to lick her lips. She turned her

head away, determined to at least try to make a token attempt to protect her

heart this time from the only man to ever trample on it. She never denied that

she loved him only that he hurt her every time they tried to indulge in that love.

Angel smirked at her weak effort, instead following her movements, licking

the delicate shell of her ear before leaning close enough to murmur, words Buffy

wanted to refuse to hear but couldn't. Her body shook harder with his nearness,

from lust, from love, from his words. She didn't want to acknowledge it but she

shook from her need of his blood, too. At that thought Angelus grunted his

agreement having been strangely silent since Angel began to speak. Apparently

the demon wanted her to taste Angel's blood once again.

"So don't tell me what happened between the second I tore my heart out and

left it bleeding before you, leaving you because I was too weak and too needy

to stay without giving in and touching you and now. I was there and I know

everything that happened, every miserable second I spent without you.

Whatever Angelus tells you is true, but the underlying truth he doesn't want

you to know because he wants you all for himself is that I have always, will

always love only you."

Angel kissed her then, lowering his body to hers. Pulling back, eyes now a

dark brown, he looked into her hazel eyes and gently caressed her face. Buffy

clenched her hands into tight fists on the sheets in a vain and desperate attempt

to keep from touching him.

"I've never loved another, Buffy, and I know you know that. More than

anything, life, death, the world, I love you. No matter how hurt you are, no

matter what else happened, or will happen, I love you. Always."

Buffy nodded, no longer able to deny her heart or the truth. "Alright Angel,"

she said, leaning up to capture Angel's mouth with hers, not able to stop

herself from touching him.

She hid the doubt, the wariness she felt at his declaration behind lowered lashes.

Buffy also hid her hope that maybe, this time.... Always, she thought, Yes,

always. Or until you decide once again that leaving me behind is for my own

good.

He showed her then, what he had promised already with words. Angel knew he

was a long way from home-free, there was too much pain and rage in her for

him to believe she would immediately let him back in. But Buffy responded,

eagerly, passionately, and as long as she did then Angel had hope he could

regain ground lost through his admitted stupidity and absence.

Buffy was helpless not to respond because she understood, the hard way, just

how unbelievably fleeting happiness was for her. Oh, yes, she was helpless in

the face of the passion they sparked together. She didn't like it but she

understood. And this time, when Angel moved her mouth to his neck, silently

begin her to drink from him, sating the hunger that clawed through her, she

tasted his blood.

Buffy cringed the entire time, hating this need, hating the fact that her body

enjoyed it, wanted it, sang with joy as it accepted the gift from her mate. It went

past reason, conditioning, morality; it was something at its most basic that spoke

to her on a level all its own at its most primal and she responded despite herself.

Her body sighed with relief and acceptance and the shakes stopped, leaving her

in relative peace.

Licking the rapidly closing wound, Buffy couldn't help but smile at Angel.

Kissing him softly one last time, she murmured, "Thank you."

It wasn't the 'I love you' he was hoping for, but that emotion was shining

clearly in her eyes. The words could wait for another time. Now he had one

last question for her.

"Why do you have this death wish, Buffy?" Angel asked as he held her

tenderly, "Why do you want to die, to leave?" Me he wanted to ask, why do

you want to leave me. Again.

How to answer that? Honestly, her inner voice said, Angelus growl of

agreement echoing with her. Her demon, it seemed, needed to understand as

well. "For so long I thought it was my destiny, to die. Oh, not just to die young

like every other slayer that too, but to die fighting Glory. To be the one to close

the portal rather then Dawn, to be the one to sacrifice because I couldn't let my

little sister die. And it was and I did and that was that; it was all I allowed

myself to believe."

She sighed, unconsciously burrowing closer to Angel. She may not have

forgiven him, may not have accepted him back in her life, but she had her bed.

And her heart, bruised and battered as it was, desperately wanted to accept the

brief solace he offered her. But Buffy was determined not to allow that;

tempting as the respite was, bitter experience taught her that to do so was

foolhardy and dangerous.

"Until they brought me back. I spent a lot of time being angry about that;

depressed, hurt but I didn't tell them where I had been for a very long time.

That lie of omission tore us apart but I didn't care then, it was too painful....

Even with you; I so desperately wanted to take comfort in you because I knew

if I could just get to you everything would be okay." Buffy sighed, remembering

those horrible and painful days.

"Being with you had always given me the strength to go on but it didn't work

out that way and I could see, could feel that you needed the lie as desperately

as they did. I didn't know why you couldn't see how desperately I needed you,

and I didn't want you with me because of pity so I gave you want you needed

so you could return," her mouth twisted in a mockery of a smile. "As I later

learned, return to Cordelia. Who am I to impede Kye-rumption?"

Angel growled a low rumble that told her that he believed her to be wrong.

Buffy wanted to believe him, wanted so very much to believe him but she

couldn't. More accurately, she was terrified to do so again.

She shrugged and added; "Now I know that my destiny is to hold all the power

of all the slayers and to fight the First." His arms tightened around her and she

was unaware of the sigh that left her parted lips. Contentment spreading

throughout her body.

"I held on before, because I knew I had people here counting on me, depending

on me to be daughter, sister, friend, lover. My mother died. My lover left me

years before and even Riley left me; not that he was much of a prize to begin

with."

She shrugged, "Now...now my friends are dead, my support network is gone

and I have no one left. Now the only thing I have left worth fighting for is the

fact that without me, the First will control the world, molding it into Its own

personal demonic playground. And I won't," she swore, "Let what happened

to Willow and Xander and the others be all for nothing."

"You have no one, Buffy?" Angel whispered in her ear, softly though not in an

attempt to seduce, more so not to break the tone she had set. And not to let her

pull further away. "Not even Dawn? Giles? Me?"

"Dawn doesn't need me, Angel," Buffy insisted, shaking her head. "She doesn't

need me to take care of her anymore, she's probably better off without me,

frankly. Look what I've managed to do to her so far; not exactly stellar

parenting there. I was nothing more than a child myself; a child trying to raise

another child. Besides, I keep losing people I love and there's never anything I

can do about it. Maybe away from me she'll stand a better chance at that highly

valued normal life everyone keeps raving about."

This hurt almost as much as Angel's leaving. Every one of them. "Giles? Giles

has been gone for a very long time, Angel. He left shortly after I returned from

the dead," her voice was flat unemotional but Angel heard the wealth of pain

behind it and knew he was the only one able to. He and perhaps Angelus but

that wasn't the point.

"The only reason he's back now is because once more Buffy is needed to fight,

to protect, to again make the hard choices. As soon as this ends, and should he

survive, he'll leave again as well. And you? I didn't know I had you last I heard

you were involved elsewhere so that remains to be seen." This last she

murmured and again Angel heard the emotion behind the words.

Hope.

"So you'd rather die?" His arms tightened around her waist at the thought.

Angel vowed, once more, to never let her go. She wasn't going to die, not

without him at least. The fact that he knew her to be nearly as immortal as he

was something, but that ultimately led to an isolated life, one which, he silently

promised her, she wasn't going to ever experience.

Buffy kept her eyes closed as she rolled over in his arms and buried her face

deep within the crook of his neck. Pondering the remote possibility of that ever

happening now, of her death becoming a reality, Buffy wondered why Angelus

said nothing. He gave a slight rumble to let her know he was still there - though

where he'd go she hadn't a clue - but otherwise continued to say nothing.

It all came down to Buffy not needing or wanting Angel's pity when he left, as

he always did. And when he did, it would be without her adding more guilt to

his already over burdened soul. No matter how angry she was with him, Buffy

loved him too much to do that to him.

"At least then I had peace. Not total..." Damn, she wasn't going to tell him that,

tell him that she was waiting for him to join her. That once he had her paradise

was complete and total. "It was peaceful and calm and hopeful. And I could rest,

finally I could rest. I seemed to always be fighting, always someone else's

personal killing machine. They pushed the buttons and I'm the one to bleed and

sacrifice while they remain distant and obscure, safely uninvolved. My friends,

the Powers, they're all the same."

"I won't let you leave me, Buffy," Angel vowed as he felt her drifting off to

sleep, "Not again, never again, my heart."

Angelus, for his part, remained silent. However, as Angel curled his big body

around Buffy's smaller one, he smirked. The demon still had her, still owned

her, and still possessed a piece of her that that pathetic soul never would. Still,

Angel's own possessive streak, the anger he showed towards Buffy, the

counter-truths he had told, and the way he all but forced her to submit to his

will made the demon proud. If only for a grudging moment.

But in the end there could only be one winner for this prize and Angelus

planned for it to be him.

They fell asleep, wrapped in each other's arms as the sun climbed high in the

sky. Dawn checked on them once, smiling when she saw their positions and

noting the fact that they were most likely naked under the sheet. If they

weren't awake an hour before sunset, she'd go back. But for now, they

deserved this rest.

~~~~~~~~~~

Buffy woke slowly, feeling more rested than she had in ages. Her body no

longer ached, the shakes she had endured for the past day were absent and she

felt an overwhelming sense of peace and safety.

It was a feeling she hadn't felt in years.

She knew, without a doubt, she lay wrapped securely in Angel's arms and that

was part of the reason for her peaceful feeling. Angelus, quiet since Angel's

passionate and all too accurate attack, verbal and physical, lay within her

waiting. Waiting for what she did not know, but he, too, held over her a sense

of safety and comfort.

Turning her head to look at the vampire holding her, Buffy couldn't help the

soft wistful smile that graced her face. She did love him, more than anything

in this world or the next. She loved his soul, his smile, his heart and his

compassion, his eyes when they lit on her, his body as it complimented hers.

She loved his face, human and demonic, and she loved his demon.

Which was why Buffy gently disentangled herself from Angel's embrace,

soothing him when he started to wake. "Shh, Angel, go back to sleep, love.

I'll be here when you wake."

"Love you," He mumbled, smiling at her before falling back into a deep

exhausted sleep. Buffy wasn't surprised, she had slept for over a day after the

slayer spell; having your demon ripped out of you had to be just as trying.

"I know you do," she whispered, tracing the planes of her exhausted lover's

face. "I know you do."

And that was why she was forcing herself from his embrace.

Buffy knew her feelings, she even knew Angel's, had always known. But he

was notorious for breaking his promises to her and her heart just couldn't take

another broken vow; not now, not with so much at stake requiring her to be

whole and strong. Not, at least, from the one being in the world she always

believed would always keep his promises to her.

He never had.

Which was harsh, and Buffy admitted that as she dressed, but she wasn't feeling

generous towards Angel even if she could admit that everything wasn't totally

his fault, but a combination of his and hers, bad timing, circumstances and fate.

Maybe if they had both tried a little more, worked a little harder...but that was

in the past and there was no way to change it now. In the world she lived in

these last few years, actions spoke louder than any promise spoken.

While Buffy could believe that everything Angel did for her was out of love,

it didn't stop the pain, the heartache she experienced every time he promised

something only to take it away from her. From them. Where would they be

now, had they both tried harder?

Would Connor be hers, rather then Darla's? Would she have died that second

time? Would Spike still have been in Sunnydale, would Willow and Xander

still be alive? Would Faith really be her friend and sister slayer once more and

not just the patchwork they had done because they needed to work together?

Hell, would the First have grown strong enough to perform this harvest?

Buffy didn't know but wondered all the same. She couldn't stop herself,

couldn't stop the hope that blossomed in her that maybe, this time...but no, now

wasn't the time to think on such things. She had the ultimate evil to stop and a

harvest to prevent.

Right now Buffy needed to re-distance herself from Angel and the feelings he

invariably awoke within her. Love, contentment, hope, most especially hope.

Whenever she was around him the walls she so carefully and painstakingly built

over the years tended to crumble, leaving her so painfully vulnerable. Prolonged

exposure naturally only worsened the effect.

Being able to touch him again, to feel his body move with hers, to breath in his

scent and taste his skin...that was a thousand times worse.

And her own heaven.

Carrying her boots in her hand, Buffy tiptoed out of the room, shutting the

door quietly behind her. Leaning against the wall, she slipped her shoes on and

continued down the hall and towards the stairs.

Stop one in rebuilding those walls: No more physical contact with Angel. No

touching, no kissing, definitely no caressing. No fantasies about him, which

could be easily fulfilled now that she housed his demon and a curse with a

ridiculous loophole was no longer valid.

Take that you murdering vindictive gypsies.

Step two, she thought as she slowly made her way down the steps: No more

admitting her feelings as she had earlier. No whispered words of devotion, no

breathless cries of love. No endearments.

Step three, Buffy decided as she surveyed the sprawled scene before her:

Leaving him as quickly as she possibly could.

For she knew, Buffy admitted as she smiled at a sleeping Dawn spread over the

floor under a blanket, that despite her words earlier, despite Angelus' memories

and her own feelings of hurt, that she loved Angel and would do anything in her

power to see that they had that second chance. That the forever she had once

believed in could finally come true - literally - and that this time, Angel would

keep his word.

Her heart couldn't afford to believe that, despite the hope blooming there; no

Buffy thought, shaking her head, she couldn't risk another heartbreak. So she

wasn't going to allow Angel to tear down the walls again, wasn't going to allow

him to have that power to hurt her again.

Buffy was terrified that she wasn't strong enough, that she wanted his love and

wanted a future with him too badly to stay away this time. Wanted it badly

enough to forget that a few weeks ago he had committed himself whole

heartedly to a life without her and a woman that, had she not betrayed him, he

still would be in LA with and just as devoted. That if this latest prophecy hadn't

occurred he wouldn't even be here now and Buffy? Buffy Summers would be

just a distant memory. A naive school girl who hadn't known when to let go or

let sleeping ghosts lie. That a beautiful memory of a promised Always for her

meant for others just until something better came along to replace you.

And finally, and the most tragic thing of all, if he didn't feel some kind of

gratitude and pity for her actions in housing Angelus that even now he would

be espousing his belief that their life together was something that could never

be...

And deep within the recesses of her being, Angelus roused. Carefully

concealing his feelings of satisfaction and triumph that he had successfully

manipulated her against Angel and towards and for him, that he had influenced

Buffy's feelings enough to blind her to Angel and the half truths he, Angelus,

told.

So he began a soothing murmur, a delicate croon that bathed her heart within

his healing balm. And shielded her from the painful realization of just how

ruthless he was and the lengths to which he would go in severing her ties to

Angel.

Wasn't eternal life within his love beautiful?

Angelus certainly thought so, even if Angel might not agree.

Author: Christine

E-mail: chrissnoop@aol.com

*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`

Part 6

A really big THANK YOU for Peygann for all her thoughts, 'playing' and cheerleading.

Despite her protestations to the contrary, this story certainly wouldn't be the same. And

that's a good thing! So thank you!

***

She crashed on top of the kitchen countertop.

Too exhausted to move, Faith stretched out, pillowing her head on her arms, and fell into

a deep sleep. Being a slayer had taught her to get sleep when you could; being in jail

taught her to sleep deep but lightly - of course slaying did that as well, wasn't she life just

full of fun experiences. It all worked to her advantage when she heard footsteps in the

room.

They were quiet, but Faith woke instantly anyway. She stayed perfectly still, keeping her

breathing even and waited to see what the owner of those footsteps did. She was

unprepared for the blanket that gently fell atop her and the sound of the refrigerator door

opening.

Jerking her head up, she looked into the equally startled eyes of Gunn.

"Oh," he said obviously, "Sorry, I thought you were asleep. Didn't mean to wake you."

Shaking her head, both in denial of his words and to clear the sleep from her muddled

brain, Faith said, "No, no you didn't. I'm good." Hopping off the counter she peaked over

his shoulder. "Want to make some of those for me?"

Nodding, Gunn pulled the bag of frozen ravioli out of the freezer and dumped half the

economy sized bag into a huge bowl before placing the bowl in the microwave. Grabbing

a jar of sauce from the refrigerator, he waited for Faith to grab two glasses before pouring

iced tea into them.

"Never figured Angel for a microwave," Faith said as they waited in uncomfortable silence

for the pasta to cook. "Too updated for him and all."

"He has one at the hotel," Gunn shrugged, "Why wouldn't he here?"

"Different times, I guess," the dark haired slayer said, turning to study the man next to

her, "He was different then, when he lived here." There was a lot she didn't know about

Angel, but then again, the same could honestly be said for everyone here. None of them

had ever really taken the time to get to know one another. Not really.

The timer beeped and Gunn grabbed the bowl, scowling at the heat coming off it.

Dumping half on Faith's plate and half on his, he handed her the jar of insta-sauce and

dug in.

"I understand," Faith said abruptly wondering where the hell those words came from as

she took another bite from her ravioli. "I understand what it's like to feel the kind of rage

you're feeling."

Gunn looked at her askance but was silent for a moment as he chewed. He had heard all

about her, or as much as Cordelia let spew in a venom filled diatribe; considering she

was the one to suggest the jailed slayer he was slightly surprised at that. Wes hadn't said

much, but hadn't refuted Cordy's words, either.

Conspiring with a demon against her friends, murder, attempts on Angel's life. Jail.

Still, Angel had accepted her, tried to help her. Before the whole loss of soul thing that

was. Could he? Gunn wondered, but had no answers for himself.

"I guess you do, yeah." Gunn said and they sat in silence for a bit.

"The problem is," he suddenly continued, "That I know there's a difference between

Angelus and Angel. And I know that it was Angelus who did these things to me, who beat

me and tortured me. Who did unspeakable things to Wes and Cordelia and Lorne.

Who..." He choked here then, "Who killed Fred."

"But you don't care," Faith guessed. "You don't care that they're basically two different

people and that one would never hurt your friends and the other would take the greatest

pleasure in doing so."

"Yeah," he agreed and looked back at his plate. Food no longer held any appeal to him

though he knew his body was going to need it. Still, he couldn't make himself eat any

more.

"And," Faith went on, "You want very much to kill Angelus but since he's now in Buffy,

you can't. Can't hurt him without hurting her even if you could find a way to get to him."

"Yeah," Gunn said again and wondered if Angel would allow himself to be beaten up a

little. Just enough to release some of the raging tension that coiled through Gunn.

"Believe me, Gunn, you don't want to let that fester. Even if you have to take all that

anger out on the demons we're about to fight, you really want to find some kind of release

for that rage you're feeling."

"Yeah," he said for the third time. "I know. Maybe we'll meet that army you're talking

about. That'll give me enough demons to fight, right?"

Faith scowled but her eyes were lost, hurt. "Yeah, plenty of."

They sat together for a little longer, talking about nothing much, making plans to visit

Vegas after this harvest thing was over. Faith wondered, but didn't say anything, about

Angel and Buffy upstairs.

"Faith," Buffy said from the kitchen doorway, not wanting to interrupt what looked like

quality bonding time with Gunn and not wishing to waste any more of what little time

remained.

"B, hey, you're awake." Faith smirked and added, "I hear you and Angel got into it last

night. Anything you want to tell us?"

"Not really, no," the blonde smiled knowing exactly what her sister slayer was asking.

Running a hand through her hair, she paused as the late afternoon light glinted off the

claddagh ring she still wore. The matching ring encircled Angel's finger declaring them

wed, declared them each other's in the most primitive sense. And even after last night,

even after all the hurtful things they both shouted at each other, neither removed their

rings.

Of course, hers was magickally enhanced and she couldn't remove it, but Buffy was

confident there was a way…should she feel like looking that was. She didn't. The

claddagh bound her to Angel as surely as it did Angelus. Buffy couldn't bring herself to

remove that symbol.

"Do we have any food?" She asked instead, bringing her attention back to the couple still

staring at her. They, too, noticed the ring. Faith knew what it meant, having heard about

Buffy's dream. Gunn stared at it, wondering who gave it to her: Angelus or Angel.

Nodding, Gunn went to the fridge and pulled out the frozen ravioli and the jar of instant

sauce he had put back. "I'll heat it up if you want," he volunteered, still giving her sly

sideways looks as she sat on one of the stools surrounding the island. "How are you

feeling?"

Buffy's head jerked up at his question but she answered as honestly as she could, "Fine,

sleep does wonders."

Faith didn't look convinced but waited until Gunn placed the bowl of microwaved pasta

before Buffy. Her eyes caught his and he nodded once, moving out of the room without

another word. "Now tell me the truth, B. How are you really feeling?"

"Fine, Faith," Buffy reiterated, taking a bite of the square ravioli she speared with her fork,

"I'm just fine."

Snorting her disbelief, Faith tried again. "You may be able to lie to Giles and Dawn, and

they might even believe you, the potentials know nothing, certainly nothing about who

and what you are now. Angel knows, I'm sure, and am equally sure that he's none too

happy about it. But it's me, B, so spill."

Swallowing, Buffy shrugged, "Nothing to tell, really. I did the spell, it worked, and I came

back here."

"So Angelus is all bound up nice and snug inside you then," Faith said, that smirk still in

place. "How's that feel?"

"Strange," Buffy said without hesitation. "Like I have this whole other person inside of me

who can speak whenever he wants, say whatever he wants, it's I don't know how to

describe it, really."

'Come now, lover,' Angelus said, speaking for the first time in hours, 'It's simple enough.

I'm here and never going anyplace. And you love it.'

Buffy ignored him, firmly pushing him back down and locking the lid on her emotions. She

really didn't feel like channeling Angelus at the moment.

Faith wanted to ask more; she wanted to know both what it felt like to have all the powers

of all the slayers and how it felt to have your own personal demon. But she wasn't sure

how to ask and frankly wasn't sure she truly wanted to know. In theory it may seem

wicked cool to have the sexy demon within you, but in practice she doubted Buffy was

having all that much fun.

"The girls and I have been training," she said instead, "Some are on watch now with

Connor. It's almost nightfall, whatever the First has planned; I don't think It's going to wait

much longer. I have a bad feeling about it."

Nodding, Buffy took her empty plate to the sink and washed it. The sleep had done

wonders and, while she didn't want to admit it, so had Angel's blood. The pasta had been

decent, but Buffy was still antsy. She was missing something, something besides her

toothbrush, she thought as she ran her tongue over her top teeth.

"I know," she agreed absently, "Whatever this harvest is it's happening soon; Connor

agrees. Have you found anything else out about it?"

"No," Faith shook her head, "And most of our research was bombed with your house.

Sorry about that, by the way. They struck without warning. We weren't expecting an army

of Turok's and...I'm sorry about Willow."

"I know, Faith," Buffy whispered, tears again pooling in her eyes. "It wasn't your fault, I

know it wasn't."

Uncomfortable with Buffy's sudden tears, Faith tried desperately to think of a change of

subject. "Ah, so, training. We've been work on coordination, stakes, and crossbows. Oh,

and hand to hand; that's a little trickier. They're not so good at that."

Buffy let out a small laugh and turned to face her sister slayer. "I imagine. Have you

heard anything of Spike?"

"No, not a peep. There was a rumor about him the other day, but nothing concrete.

Something about him being evil again, but I'm not really sure about that. Didn't you say

he had a chip and a soul?"

"Yeah, but that might not mean much, I suppose." Just then she felt it, that thing that was

missing, the part she knew was just out of her reach. Angel walked into the room. Buffy

was not surprised.

"Having a soul doesn't mean much," he said to both women but his eyes held Buffy's. "It's

what you do with it that counts."

Faith nodded, standing to give Angel a hug. "Angel, man, it's good to see you back. So,

ah, how's it feel?"

Tearing his eyes away from Buffy's, he looked to Faith. "How does what feel?"

"Your soul, man, how does it feel to be the only on in your body?"

"Different, strange. I'm not used to it just yet." He admitted as his eyes locked with Buffy's

again.

"Right then," Faith said, not wanting to witness anything between the lovers, "I think we

should wake the others, let them know you're back and ready to kick some serious First

ass."

She stood and made to move out of the kitchen, mumbling. "And let you take over this

leader bullshit. I see now that it's not as great as people say."

"You're doing fine, Faith," Buffy said softly but both she and Angel heard her. "You're a

great leader and I'm proud of you. You kept everyone together despite the odds. You're

only just beginning."

"Hell no, B. I'm done. You lead. Please."

Angel stared at Buffy for another moment then, without saying a word, moved to stand

next to his beloved. Taking her hand, entwining her fingers with his, he lent her whatever

strength she'd accept from him.

"You know what needs to be done, Faith," he said and smiled at the younger slayer. "You

know what can happen and how to prevent that. You're perfect for the job."

And then Faith got it. She understood just what was happening. They were both leaving.

She wanted, desperately, to rage at them, yell, scream, tear into them for leaving her.

Buffy, she knew, had already planned on not coming back. Angel, she should have

figured, would follow her.

Damn you, she wanted to say, damn you both for deserting me like this! Damn you for

leaving me to the next generation of recruits. Damn you for giving me this burden.

But she didn't. With difficulty Faith held her tongue and nodded. It was time, she

supposed, that Buffy gave up her position of slayer; even if she was The Slayer now.

Faith was the line now. And she, no matter how much she detested it, was responsible

for the future.

"I hate you both," she said but there was a smile in her voice even if she was scowling. "I

really, really do." With that she turned and walked out of the kitchen, yelling to the room

at large to wake the hell up already. Time was a-wasting.

Bringing their joined hands to his lips, Angel said, "She'll be fine, beloved. Faith's a strong

woman; she was strong enough to change, she'll be strong enough to continue on."

Buffy nodded, just barely resisting the urge to let his strong arms wrap around her, let

herself, if only for a moment, be comforted by his embrace. But she didn't move, couldn't.

Fear still ran through her, not of Angel, never of him, but of what could be should she

open that last lock on her heart and let him back in.

And Angelus purred with pleasure, a smirk none could see gracing his quintessential

face. His spirit-like eyes gleamed with malice and possession. Buffy was still his, no

matter how close Angel got.

Angel didn't hold her though he ached to. Instead he brought his free hand to her face,

cupped her cheek and lightly kissed her lips. "I love you," he said. Then, "You may be

afraid to trust me again, but I swear to you this time will be different. You may not believe

me, but it's the truth. And if I have to spend the rest of eternity proving that to you then

that's what I shall do."

She said nothing, couldn't, but smiled at him, a soft smile that accepted his words even if

she didn't fully believe them.

"We better get out there, there's still much to do and time is short."

Angel nodded and they walked into the great room together. Still hand in hand.

Connor had waited until his father and Buffy joined them. He wasn't sure what their

reactions were going to be and was a little frightened to find out, but it had to be done.

Still, he waited until Buffy and Faith ran through the plan for the rapidly coming night.

"There will be no splitting up. I don't care what any of you think you might be able to

accomplish, how good you think you are, they're better and I repeat: there will be no

splitting up." Buffy said with a fierce look around the group. She ignored Angelus'

commentary of easy meals and looked to Faith.

The other slayer nodded and Buffy continued. "We have two goals tonight, the first is to

stay alive, the second is to find where the First and his goons are hiding."

"I may be able to help with that," a new voice said and was greeted by two dozen

weapons trained on him. "Well," Robin said as calmly as he could. "Nice welcome."

"Principle Wood?" Dawn asked, "What are you doing here? And how did you find here?"

"Came to see how it was going, Buffy, since I haven't seen you since you quit. Under

really mysterious circumstances, might I add," Robin did add but since no explanation

was forthcoming, he continued, "I saw your house - nice crater - and was wondering if

you needed any help," he said. "And I followed the path of destruction; led right to this

place. Nice digs, by the way." He added, turning to Buffy, "Yours?"

Buffy shrugged but no one said anything until Connor spoke up, asking, "Who are you?"

"The principle of Sunnydale High and Buffy's boss - former boss," he answered the boy,

then when Buffy, Giles, Dawn and Anya continued to look at him, "The son of a slayer.

You?"

Since 'the son of a vampire' didn't seem to be what the other man was asking, he

answered simply, "Connor."

Dawn filled in the blanks for him though it probably wouldn't help, "He's Angel's son."

Robin looked to the man standing next to Buffy, hovering almost protectively near the

petite slayer. "You must be Angel, then," he said, figuring it was his best guess. "Nice to

meet you."

He refrained from adding that the other man looked too young to have had a child

Connor's age. What was it with these people? And did he really want to know? "I think I

might know where the First is hiding out, Buffy."

Motioning to an empty spot on the couch, Buffy asked, "How do you know?"

"Think," Robin clarified, "I think I know. Saw a pair of vamps going into the caves near the

edge of town. I followed them but lost them in the labyrinth there. On my way back out I

spotted a rather large army of demons that were talking to..." the principle looked

confused here. "Well, Buffy, it looked like they were talking to you, actually."

"The First," Angel said with confidence. "It has the ability so shift forms, take on the

physical appearance of anyone who is..." He really didn't want to finish that sentence, but

it looked like he was going to have to; Robin and the potentials were looking at him

expectantly. "Anyone," he finished, "Who is dead."

"Buffy's not dead." Robin stated with conviction and then looked at her, "Are you?"

"Ah, well, not at the moment, no. But I was and I guess that was enough for It." She

shrugged though she could feel both Angel's and Angelus' anger and helplessness over

her death. Nice to know she was loved and missed.

'Only I, lover, am allowed to kill you. And that stupid bitch Glory should have known that;

you should have known that. And the First better damn well remember that.'

He wasn't helping, so Buffy ignored him. "The point is, Robin, that it wasn't me. Who were

the two vamps you followed? And how did you know who they were?"

His eyes, usually so bright and animated, hardened here, his full lips thinned into a

straight line, his whole posture tensing. "One of the killed my mother."

"Oh," Buffy murmured, "I'm sorry."

Angel stiffened, but no one said a word. Unless the First was importing some of the older

vamps - and that was entirely possible - there was only one vampire in Sunnydale,

besides him (Angelus) that had ever killed a slayer.

"Spike," he whispered just loud enough for Buffy to hear him and when she jerked around

to face him, he looked her in the eye and nodded. "He's the only one, it makes sense."

Louder, he asked the newcomer, "What did the two look like?"

"He was blonde, obviously dyed, swaggering like he owned the town, she was dark

haired, willowy, I guess you'd describe her, frail looking. And," he added, again

perplexed, "Possibly crazy." Directing the question at Buffy he asked, "Is it possible for a

vampire to be crazy?"

No one said anything for a full minute, digesting all that Robin had described. It was

Angel who choked out, "It's possible, if...if they're crazy before they're turned."

Buffy slipped her hand into his, squeezing it in support and comfort. Oh, yeah, her heart

was in trouble. Those exalted walls were already a-crumbling, who was she kidding?

When Angelus stirred, jealously and pride coating him, Buffy swore silently, 'One word,

Angelus, and I swear, I'll find some way of seeing you spend the rest of eternity inside

Spike.'

'Now, now, lover, you know you'd miss me.' Smug, arrogant; and entirely too right,

egotistical bastard. 'Besides, the way that pathetic specimen of a vampire is going, you'll

stake him before finding a way to carry out that little threat. Now Dru, on the other hand...'

Jealous rage coated Buffy's vision for a second and her eyes flashed golden. Angel,

sensing the shift in her emotions and pulling her closer, tried to sooth her before she said

or did something she'd regret. He wondered, as Buffy settled into his embrace, visibly

calming, if it were possible to get to Angelus without Buffy being in the way. Doubtful, but

the world was full of possibilities.

Robin was looking at them funny but said nothing. He already knew this was a strange

bunch, the little display before him only reinforced that.

"Can you take us back to those caves?" Giles asked, desperately glad for a diversion.

"I think so, yes."

"Good, good," the Englishman said, "Then we had better leave soon. Sunlight is

immanent and it would be to our advantage to have that as an escape route."

Connor spoke up just then, "We have to wait for Cordelia and Wesley." As all eyes

swiveled to him, the youth shrugged. "All I know is that Doyle said we had to wait for

them."

"Doyle?" Angel questioned his voice slightly hoarse. "Doyle's dead, son."

"True," a new voice added, appearing so suddenly he took the whole group by surprise

and again the mass of weapons was trained on the newcomer. "But what's a little death

among friends? Like that's ever stopped anyone before."

Angel looked, Buffy thought, like he was about to faint. Considering what he had seen

and done, that was saying something.

"Doyle?"

"It's me, Angel, in the almost there flesh." He flashed a grin at the ensouled vampire.

"And look at you," his Irish brogue deepened. "All demon-free and soulful; how's that

feeling, buddy?"

"Strange," Angel admitted, still in that hoarse unbelieving voice, "Nice."

"Good, good. And you, Miss Buffy," Doyle turned to the slayer he had met but that one

time. "I see you've survived that little spell; how are you feeling?" At Buffy's silent stare,

Doyle tried again, "You know lass that was a very brave thing you did." Sill nothing but

that cold watchful stare. No wonder she was the best slayer ever.

Shrugging Doyle said, "Now then, down to business; the lad's right, you have to wait for

Delia and the Watcher." He glanced at Giles and altered his sentence, "The other

Watcher. Everyone has a part in this little drama and it can't begin until they all arrive."

Just then there was a knock on the door. Considering no one had bothered to knock on

any door is too long, it took the group a while to move. Dawn finally did, flinging the door

wide open and hoping out of the way of the dozen of weapons pointed there.

Cordelia and Wesley had arrived.

~~~~~~~~~~

Anya sighed and rolled her eyes. "Oh, Christ we have two more pieces of dead

weight we have to protect. At least there are a lot of potentials, sheer

numbers and all, and they can almost fight."

"Oh, this keeps getting better and better," Buffy mumbled as everyone gaped

at the newcomers.

Anya stopped whatever else she was going to say at Buffy's words, though no

one but she and Angel seemed to hear them, and murmured instead, "Whoa, someone

hates her more than I do."

Buffy ignored her as did everyone else.

But then the slayer looked, really looked at the pair. Wesley she had seen

before; had seen the abuse inflicted upon her former watcher by Angelus. It

didn't make her happy, but she knew the demon better than anyone and frankly had

expected something like what Wesley bore. But Cordelia...May the goddess have

mercy, what had he done to the woman?

"What did you do?" She whispered, forgetting that she didn't have to speak

aloud to communicate with her demon. "What in the name of God did you DO?"

Angel wasn't looking at his friends (former friends?) he couldn't; his eyes

were focused on a point beyond the door as Angelus' memories assaulted him. But

when Buffy asked her question, he thought she was asking him. Him, Angel;

that she blamed him for the condition of Cordelia and Wesley. His eyes, a pain

filled brown, jerked to hers; but she was still staring at the couple Dawn was

just now ushering through the doorway.

She wasn't asking him. She was asking Angelus.

Locking eyes with Angel, Buffy asked voice tearful, almost...scared, "What

did he do?"

Without conscious thought, Angel wrapped his arms around her and held her

closely. "I'm sorry, Buffy," he said, not knowing what else there was to say.

'Oh, get off it soulboy,' Angelus growled, knowing the secret was up but

wanting to put his own spin on this as quickly as he could. 'It was deliciously

fun and she was such a screamer! Her blood was slightly tainted, all that

aborted goodness; honestly, did the Powers really think someone like her could be

'good' enough to become a higher being? Not in any lifetime. Just because,' he

added slyly, 'You were all 'in love' with her didn't mean I felt one damn thing

but contempt for the tramp.'

Silent sobs wracked Buffy's body for a moment, her slight figure hidden from

view by Angel's larger body as she ignored Angelus. She couldn't deal with him

at the moment; not after this revelation.

She had spent three nights in his arms, had stayed in his penthouse with

Angel's friends in almost the next room, she had knowingly and willingly screwed

the demon and not once, never once had she stopped to consider the full extent

of what that demon had done to these people.

She had seen the evidence on Gunn, but knew Angelus got off on torture. Gunn

could still walk and talk, didn't seem broken or cut up as Wesley did,

wheelchair bound as he was. Didn't seem as shattered and starved as Cordelia -

goddess, what had he done?

"Why?" She asked, but already knew the answer. "Why?"

He had done it because he could.

Angelus knew that it would hurt Angel, knew that the second biggest threat to

his continued existence was Angel's LA team. Because Angel's darkness was

always meant for the demon and Angel's anger, Angelus' invitation. Not that

Angelus ever waited for an invitation, but Angel kept that anger on a tight reign;

Angelus didn't. Angelus had exacting standards and those worthy in his eyes

always faired better than those that were not.

That was why Gunn and Connor had survived relatively intact.

The 'miracle' child, whether from Angel or Angelus still came from the same

body and was something to mold, not destroy. And Gunn had only ever proven

himself worthy as a fighter. He never tried to interfere with Angel's personal

life - except that one little indiscretion that was dubbed 'The Darla Incident.'

But even Angelus could admit - with a sly grin no doubt - the soul needed more

help than usual that year.

The first threat to Angelus' continued existence was her, Buffy, but she had

proved herself worthy long ago with his first appearance. Still she had an

advantage the others did not; Angelus' twisted version of love, his passion

tempered what his course of action for her would be this time. Still had she done

anything to stop him?

No, she had screwed him over and over, reveling in the sensations he brought

out in her, crying out his name in passion, lust, and even love.

Was she punishing herself now because she had a plan and stuck to it letting

nothing rock the boat once she committed to this course of action? Or was it

because she felt no guilt at the love and satisfaction she found in her lover's

arms while she went through with the plan?

And believing, because he offered her honesty, he would automatically tell

her everything.

He hadn't and she hadn't asked.

She should have known; the anger in Angelus' voice and eyes when he mentioned

them, Angel's friends, should have warned her but it didn't. And because the

line forming of things for her to take care of, handle, or fix, most

especially this next apocalypse, was a long one she hadn't pushed; speed had been of

the essence

"Buffy, baby, look at me." Angel tilted her head upward, knowing what she was

feeling: betrayed, torn, hurt. Angry.

When she did, her eyes were haunted. "I didn't know, Angel, I swear I had no

idea he did this. I mean I figured he did something, but..." A single tear

leaked from her eyes and that was somehow more potent than a river of them. "I'm

sorry, oh, God, I'm so sorry."

"It wasn't your fault, Buffy, you know that." He pulled her back into his

arms, ignoring the total silence that enveloped the room behind him. "It wasn't

your fault, love, it wasn't your fault."

Long moments passed, minutes they really didn't have to spare before Buffy

composed herself and the couple faced the uncomfortable group. Giles wouldn't

meet their eyes; Dawn hovered as though uncertain if the comfort she so

desperately wished to give would be welcomed. Faith looked like she wanted to take the

last few minutes, and the arrival of the LA couple, off the face of the earth

forever.

Guilt still radiated through Angel looked like he wanted to take a tentative

step towards his friends but decided against it. Wesley refused to look at him

so Angel concentrated on Cordelia. He knew what role the seer played in this

lovely little melodrama, but that didn't alleviate the culpability he felt

towards the woman.

Guilt warred with anger and Angel chose the guilt.

"Cordelia?" The seer looked up at him, fear coming off her in almost physical

waves. Angel stayed where he was, wrapped in Buffy's arms, his arms around

her. "I'm sorry, Cordy. I'm so sorry."

She just nodded but turned immediately away. It was Anya who asked, "What did

you do to her?"

"It wasn't him, Anya," Dawn said immediately, coming to his defense. This, at

least, she could do. "It was Angelus and you know that."

In a cold voice none of them ever thought to hear from Wesley, the crippled

man answered, "He raped her, beat her, drank from her, and then cut out her

tongue."

A ripple of shock cut through the room but the participants ignore it.

Explanations weren't necessary to those who didn't know and this was so much more

important.

"How...how did you get here?" Angel asked his voice husky with remorse,

shame, guilt, pain.

Haltingly Wesley began.

"Short version," he began, his voice losing none of the coolness, his eyes

none of the frost. "Cordelia showed up in my hospital room with a wheelchair and

a note explaining she received a vision and that the two of us were needed

here. It took us some time," he went on, leaving out his pain of leaving the

hospital bed and hers of simply moving his wheelchair, "for us to make it to an

exit, leave the hospital undetected, and then to find a taxi. The streets were

oddly deserted, most of the demons gone either because it was daylight or

because of something else."

He shifted uncomfortably, his legs in casts to help mend the twisted

brokenness of his body, his left arm in a sling both wrists bandaged from the chafing

Angelus' manacles had caused. His body was starved and dehydrated and Wesley

was so tired he wanted to sleep and never wake up. In sleep, however, came

dreams; nightmares of what Angelus had said and done.

Nightmares Wesley was sure would never stop.

But he voiced none of his pain. "We made it back to her apartment and her car

and drove here."

It was Robin who asked, "How did you find this place?"

Turning to the strange man, Wes said, "Buffy's house was a crater, I knew

Giles no longer lived in the states, going to the high school wasn't an option,

not since Buffy blew the last one up, this was our last and only choice."

Turning to the slayer who was still wrapped in what were obviously her

lover's arms, Robin asked, "You blew up the last high school? They didn't tell me

that."

Curious Dawn asked, "What did they tell you?"

"Gas pipe leak during graduation that caused hallucinations among those that

survived the explosion."

"Oh," Dawn said and blinked as if she couldn't believe anyone would believe

that story. Then, "If we make it through this, I'll tell you the whole sordid

tale."

Still neither Buffy nor Angel said anything, taking and giving comfort from

each other in a vain attempt to displace guilt. Then her lover kissed her

softly on the lips and moved out of her embrace, walking to where Cordelia sat.

"I couldn't stop him, Cordy," he said and tentatively took her hand. She

didn't pull away but she did flinch as though Angel's oh-so gentle touch hurt.

"I'm sorry, you'll never know just how much."

Cordelia just nodded but still didn't meet Angel's eyes.

Connor looked around for his guide but couldn't find Doyle. The spirit had

left? Now? When they most likely needed him the most? Typical. So Connor settled

for watching the play before him, watching Angel apologize to both Cordelia

and Wesley, neither of whom looked all that receptive.

Cordelia was partly responsible for Angelus' return even if Connor didn't

exactly understand it all; hate made the demon stronger, but a dream, a mere

dream about Buffy? THAT was the reason Angel experienced his moment of true

happiness? Talk about your strong emotions. Still, it didn't explain their reception

to Angel.

They, the boy thought, of all people should know the difference between soul

and demon.

So much for friendships.

And Buffy. She looked angry and hurt. But most of all, Connor thought,

looking deeper into her soul, scared. There were too many forces within her puling

in too many directions. And the slayer had no idea which way to go, which

direction was the right one.

Briefly closing her eyes, Buffy mentally chanted, I am not going to say

anything, I am not, I am not, I am not.

Buffy refused to give into the uncontrolled resentment storming through her,

at the sight of Angel begging forgiveness from Cordelia. Not that he was

actually begging, but that wasn't Buffy's point. She refused to loosen the lid on

the emotions that surged through her at the sight of the man who had just that

morning told her of his love for her looking like he wanted to cry.

Cry over Cordelia, no less.

The fact that Angel felt guilty for Angelus' deeds didn't help the resentment

though Buffy knew it should. Angel always felt guilty about things he had no

control over; the gypsies preformed the perfect curse when they gave him back

his soul. Buffy wondered if they knew that this was how he'd react. Or maybe

they had written it in: Feel guilty over things you had no control over.

Buffy tried for rationality, but it just wasn't coming and she started to

panic. Was this what Angel felt, this constant anger and pain? Hate and

groundless abhorrence, unchecked aggression? Was Buffy feeling this because she now

contained Angelus and he was feeding off of her emotions? Was he contributing to

the extremes in her emotional state?

Or was it the combination of several thousand slayers who were the pinnacle

of what it is to be a warrior? Was it the First Slayer - the very essence of

what was most primal about the slayer - enhancing Buffy's anger and hate with

her own contempt for what she saw as a defective warrior in Cordelia?

Was the fact that all Buffy really wanted to do was rip into whatever

remained of Cordelia until nothing did remain Angelus' fault? Or the combination of

the Slayers who believed that it was the seer's own fault she was weak and

tainted; and because of that weakness not only had a warrior for their side been

jeopardized due to her narcissistic selfishness but Buffy's (Their) mate was

placed in jeopardy in the first place?

Or did fault lay at her feel, just hers, all Buffy's and no one else's?

Buffy didn't know but the panic was threatening to overwhelm her and she was

deathly afraid of what she could and would do to Cordelia if she let this fury

get out of hand.

Cordelia, at whose feet Buffy lay most of this mess. Definitely not the most

rational thing the slayer had ever considered, but that did not change the

fact that she seriously hated the other woman.

Cordelia had a chance - as much as Buffy hated to think of it and she really

did - to have it all with Angel. Oh, the curse - and hence Angelus - had still

been an issue, though if the past hours of verbal flagellation between Angel

and Buffy were any indication, the chances of Angel losing his soul with the

seer were slim. But Cordelia had had a chance.

And the woman threw it all away for a romp in the sack with the vampire's

son. What kind of woman was she?

'A whore, my love, nothing but a whore.'

Angelus words to Buffy were in a voice that stated nothing but fact. None of

the usual taunting was present and for that Buffy could only be grateful. She

just wasn't up to that at the moment. Besides, she was still angry and upset

with Angelus. For not only keeping his tortuous activities a secret from her,

but also for daring to take the pompous high road when it came to Angel.

'What did you do to her?' She asked and wasn't at all sure she wanted to

know.

'Nothing more than what she deserved,' he answered, 'And less than I should

have.' But still he refused to show her the mental images of his latest reign.

Because of that, and only that, Buffy knew they were bad. But why was he

protecting her? And then it hit her; he wasn't protecting her, he was protecting

her image of him. If she didn't know the details of what he did, she could

continue to delude herself. And perhaps he knew she needed that as well.

Then there was a part of herself, beneath the demon's hatred, beneath the

endless throng of slayers and their anger and contempt that felt satisfaction in

the punishment Cordelia had received. Because of the seer, Angelus had been

released, because of her, countless had died for her part in this farce. Because

of Cordelia, Buffy was in LA once again cleaning up someone else's mess

instead of home where she had been needed the most.

Willow's death attested to that.

Most importantly, Cordelia didn't have the claim that she hadn't known about

the curse.

Fair? Rational? Buffy didn't know and frankly she didn't care; it was just

how she felt and she never claimed to be a saint and that's what would have been

required to forgive something of this magnitude. She had lost her dearest

friend while trying to fix Cordelia's fuck up, someone worth a million Cordelias

in the slayer's book. Buffy would never know if her being with Willow at the

end would have changed anything, if, together, she and Faith could have turned

the tide, or if her presence might have made Willow fight harder.

But it was the fact that she wasn't there that ate at Buffy. The not knowing

that kept the anger simmering, the hatred growing making that line between her

and the beings within that much thinner.

Unable to even begin to contemplate what she felt about that, Buffy walked up

to Angel and place her hand on his shoulder. As with so many things in her

life - and especially this latest debacle - Buffy pushed everything away. Later

was soon enough.

His shame and guilt were tangible, to her at least, and while she wanted

nothing more than to wrap her arms around him and hold him, to ease and soothe. To

rant and rave, pound on him because she was still feeling entirely too

vulnerable about too many things, and still didn't fully trust his feelings for her

- or rather she didn't trust the fact that this time he would stay.

They had run out of time.

The sun had just set.

~~~~~~~~~~

The invading army hadn't waited much past sunset before they were upon the

group.

The second everyone shook themselves out of their trances, weapons were

handed out and orders given. Faith and Buffy, sister slayers once more, dolled out

instructions as if they had fought side by side only yesterday when, in fact,

it had been years.

"They're going to come here," Faith said with conviction. "They know we're

the only threat to the First and Its Harvest and they know that if they wait any

longer we'll find a way to stop it."

She turned to Angel who was holding himself stiffly by Buffy's side. "If what

Angel says is true, the two vamps allied with the First know us and know what

we're capable of. And you know damn well they're going to use that to their

advantage."

"Who are these vamps?" One of the potentials asked.

No one said anything for a moment until Giles decided on a partial

explanation that helped not at all. "Old enemies. They've been here before, but we all

thought they had left some time ago."

It was obvious there were more questions, especially from Robin Wood who

looked like he wanted to drag the truth - or the rest of the explanation at least

- out of Giles. But he didn't and no one said anything else.

Revenge was something many of them understood and if nothing else, they'd let

the son of a slayer have his vengeance...or die trying.

"Giles," Buffy said, smoothly taking over, "I want you, Dawn, and Anya

towards the back. No lip, Dawnie," the blonde slayer said not even looking at her

sister who had opened her mouth t protest. "I want the three of you out of the

way in case something happens to us. We'll need fighters who know what we're up

against."

Her sister seemed somewhat mollified with that though none of them looked

happy. Buffy smiled grimly and went on. "If we should fail, the First must not be

allowed to win. I don't care what it takes or what we have to do, it stops

here."

"Most likely," Angel said, "The Turok's will fight in a mass attack kind of

way. No form or style, they'll try to overwhelm us by sheer numbers. And

they'll probably be able to, if Faith's dream is right. All the more reason to stay

together, keep the line tight and don't let them through. The moment one is,

the rest are."

He slipped his hand around Buffy's, squeezing her smaller hand in a show of

love and support. She didn't pull away.

"Any questions?"

"Aren't we missing someone?" A new voice asked and everyone, already on edge,

jumped, weapons again pointing to the newcomer.

"Man, you people really need to work on your welcoming."

"Willow?" Buffy asked, hope and suspicion warring in her voice.

"The First," Faith said.

"No, actually, it's really me. And I brought a friend. Two, actually." Willow

- or something that looked like her - said. Tara and Doyle appeared next to

her.

"Don't you people ever work with living humans?" Robin asked.

Author: Christine

E-mail: chrissnoop@aol.com

*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`

Part 7

Attack. Distract. Kill her.

It was furious. It wanted the slayer dead and didn't care how that happened or

how long it took. This little distraction was perfect and with Its two little allies to

observe and report back, even better.

Buffy, the slayer...she had stolen Its most prized possession and killed Its most

valued ally. She was going to die for that insolence. She and her pathetic

vampire with a soul; no one was getting out of Its harvest alive.

~~~~~~~~~~

In the end, they had decided to take on the demons here, on familiar territory at

least. The cave with Spike and Drusilla could wait. How long no one knew, but

there wasn't a choice. Fight here with retreat as an option, or there, at the cave,

with no place else to go.

"Angel," Giles called to the vampire as the group scrambled with last minute

preparations. Ideally his questions could wait; this was far from an ideal time.

Giles worry had not stopped growing since Buffy made her appearance at the

Crawford Street Mansion.

At first he was too happy to see her, alive and well, but then little things began

to add up. Buffy's strange use of pronouns, the way she commented on things

that had a decidedly Angelus flavor. Giles had assumed that binding Angelus

within her would, in effect, be similar to placing the demon in a box and

permanently closing the lid.

That didn't seem to be the case, if his admittedly limited observation was any

indication.

Silently walking over to the man he once admired, Angel stared at the aging

watcher, waiting. He blamed Giles for the spell - both of them - Buffy did, not

more than he blamed himself, certainly, but blame was there. But Angel knew,

despite the fact that Giles was probably right and he couldn't have talked her

out of this foolhardy endeavor, that he was the one with the best chance of it.

"You coexisted with Angelus for close to a century," Giles began without

preamble, too worried to bother, especially when time was running out. "Is what

Buffy going through at all similar?"

Not the question Angel was expecting. "No, no it's not." At Giles' expectant look

Angel tried to find the words to describe the differences. He knew Giles was

worried but couldn't bring himself to care. He, Angel, was the only one who was

going to worry about Buffy from now on. He and no one else was responsible

for her happiness and well being. He had failed in the past but her friends and

family had failed worse.

Angel wasn't about to let the mistakes he had made before color their future.

The change started now.

"At first Angelus was a...he was like a snarling beast, he hated being caged, he

wanted out, wanted his freedom back. Hated being trapped, worse yet, heated

being trapped underneath a soul who wanted only to forget the past and the

deeds the demon had taken so much pleasure in. Coexistence is probably not

the word I would have chosen because Angelus loathed the presence of the

soul... of me."

Angel glanced behind him to where Buffy stood with Faith, giving last minute

instructions to the potentials. She glanced up for a moment and their eyes

locked her head tilted in that all to familiar way but she was immediately

preoccupied by the girls before her. She didn't see Angel's expression harden

at the knowledge that Angelus was continuing to make his presence felt.

"He was always there, but we never really...conversed. Not until the first time

we, I, saw Buffy. The demon wasn't exactly dormant, he knew what was going

on in my life, could see everything I saw, hear everything that went on around

us, he just didn't care. Angelus wasn't as active or close to the surface then,"

Angel wanted to add, as he was in recent years, but didn't. "To Angelus, Giles,

the only things I've ever done right were die in that ally in Ireland and some how

get Buffy to love me."

Angel finished trying to explain an entirely too complex situation with, "He

objected to fighting demons and vampires and loudly unless it directly related to

Buffy then that fighting was acceptable because but he didn't want Buffy hurt."

Unless, of course, he was the one doing her hurting.

Shaking his head, Angel admitted, "I'm sorry, that probably doesn't help. We

rarely had a conversation until Buffy," it was difficult to explain talking to one's

self. Made the whole concept of a conscious take on a new meaning. "And after

that, after we saw her, began working with her, it was impossible to get him to

lay dormant again. Harder still once I left Sunnydale; before he was indifferent

where I was concerned after we left Buffy, he was a rage and a force that was

constantly near the surface."

The vampire was unaware that he was speaking in the plural 'we' sense, as if

he and Angelus were closer than Angel had previously admitted. Giles caught it

but wasn't sure what to say about it; he knew how Angel felt about the demon,

and vice versa. Was pointing out the fact that they were closer than either

admitted wise? Probably not.

"Now," Angel continued, oblivious to Giles' musings, "Now it seems as if he's a

constant presence; rather than being locked up within her, he's lounging

around, feet on the table, not going anywhere any time soon and perfectly

happy with that scenario. There is one other thing I can tell you, whether it

helps or not you decide. After the spell before she became so guarded and

wary with me she was dazed. Confused."

Angel closed his eyes, remembering. "I was trying to figure out what the hell

was going on myself it's always disorienting after regaining control from

Angelus. She was calm, eerily so, she told me he was quiet, the rage, the hate

were gone asked me why he was so happy when she had betrayed him. I

couldn't answer, didn't know how to, not then at least. I'm afraid my reaction

took the focus away from any explanations and we have yet to return to it."

Giles nodded, his glasses in his hand, absorbing the information like a good

Watcher. "I see," he said but nothing else. "Is it because he's trapped inside

Buffy? He's always been obsessed with her, always wanted her all to himself.

Now that he has her, he's not going to take the chance his hooks aren't deep

enough."

"Exactly," Angel agreed as they watched Buffy together. His eyes were hard

with jealously, a deep snarl threatened to erupt from him at the thought of his

hated demon being closer to his love than he. And the fact that he, his soul,

wasn't deeply rooted enough to prevent just that.

"Giles," Angel asked abruptly, "The spell."

Turning back him, Angel asked urgently, "Is there anyway to remove Angelus

from Buffy and hold him in something else? I know he has to be contained or

the demon aspect finds its original home - me - but does it have to be within

Buffy? Couldn't it be in something else, a jar, a box, a hole in the ground,

anything?"

Giles' eyes lighted up for a moment as he ran the possibilities through his mind.

"Possibly, yes, there may be a way..." He trailed off as several conflicting ideas

all tried to make sense in his mind.

But Angel was already shaking his head, no. "Wait, Giles, no. Angelus would

never want to be removed. He'd fight with any and every weapon he had before

he allowed that. And if Buffy's body already accepted him, if her-" he was going

to say blood but no one knew about that and he wasn't going to tell anyone.

And what of the slayers within her? They'd have to at least partially accept both

Angel and Angelus if they allowed not only Buffy to bring the demon's essence

within her but allow (was that the right word?) Angelus to, in some measure,

turn her. She needed his blood; her Sire's blood and the slayers somehow

didn't sense that as a threat; they permitted Angelus his last victory when they

accepted his blood into Buffy.

"If her mind and body are already used to him," Angel said instead, "Then what

will happen to her if we forcibly remove him?"

"We did it to you," Giles pointed out. "You survived the removal of the demon."

Not something Angel wanted to be reminded of, especially when his soul was

so easily (not all that easily but it was possible and that was what grated most)

evicted.

"True, true, but...maybe after all this we'll talk about it some more, there isn't

exactly time now."

Giles nodded in agreement and was about to add one more thing when Buffy

andered over to them. Her arms were crossed over her chest and she glared at

her lover. "Planning something over here, lover?"

Giles gaped at her word usage but Angel, at a loss as what, exactly, to say, just

shook his head. What could he say that wasn't going to get her angry? And

anything he told Buffy, Angelus was bound to hear. "I was simply filling Giles in

on several things that happened in LA. Nothing to worry about, not now at

least."

She smirked; obviously she didn't believe him but said nothing as she studied

them both with all too knowing eyes. "We're ready, then. Robin just reported

back saying there's a large pack of demons on their way here."

Giles muttered, "God help us," and went to oversee the packing once again.

But he kept his eye on Buffy; her moves, her stance even. The words she used,

the way she held her head high. And the way she looked at Angel. Longing,

love, and distance. She was scared. But of what? Angel? Or the demon she

held within her?

Angel gathered Buffy in his arms, not saying anything for a moment, he just

held her. "I love you, Buffy. And I swear-"

"Angel, no," Buffy cut him off as she stepped out of his safe embrace. Distance

between them was best for her right now. "Don't say it. Don't swear. Don't say

you aren't going to let anything happen to me. Because your track record on

swearing bites, pardon the pun." She watched his eyes harden with yet another

reminder of her lack of trust. She hated hurting him she truly did, but she was

more than terrified of letting him back I to hurt her. So she, in true Buffy fashion,

lashed out repeatedly. It was unfair, but Buffy couldn't be bothered with that

now. Maybe later.

"Besides you know as well as I that something most likely will happen. Just

say...say you've got my back."

"Always, beloved," he agreed and pulled her closer again, ignoring the stiffness

with which she held herself. He kissed her then with a desperation she easily

returned. This, at least, they both shared. And they would, Angel vowed, share

everything given the time to do so. "I will always watch your back."

Angelus purred in agreement. Not with Angel, but in acknowledgement of

Angel's unspoken words. So long as the body lived, whether the soul or demon

inhabited it, nothing was going to happen to Buffy.

~~~~~~~~~~

"I feel like I'm in some bad Western. Or possibly an old war movie," Faith said

as the group stood in three lines, protecting nothing so much as themselves; if

they fell, so did the world.

How melodramatic was that?

Buffy, Angel, Faith, Gunn, Robin Wood and Connor were the first row. It hadn't

been said, but if something should happen to that row, their finest warriors, the

remaining two were, to use the vernacular, screwed. Literally, figuratively, any

way imaginable.

The second and third lines were potential slayers. It was hoped, most devoutly

by all, that those second lines weren't needed.

Giles, Anya, and Dawn were packing everything up as quickly as they could,

using poor Wesley as a carrying case. He didn't seem to mind, but then it was

hard to tell through the stoic mask he showed everyone. Cordelia sat on the

couch, useless and feeling it.

Honestly she wanted to rant and rave, to shout and condemn and voice all

those feelings she had boiling and roiling inside of her. But she was mute and

that form of expression was denied her. So she watched and waited. She could

barely stand, could move only short distances and was, as Anya had so kindly

pointed out when she and Wesley first arrived here, dead weight.

She looked it, too, skin so close to her bones that her joints all but poked

through, her face was gaunt and even if she survived and recovered from this

nightmare, the wrinkles were permanent and the haunted look in her eyes was

never going away.

Doyle said she was needed, but for what? How was she to know what she was

needed for, or when, if she didn't know why?

And now Tara and Willow were here? Cordelia had only met Tara the once,

when they had brought a distraught Angel to Sunnydale for Buffy's funeral. He

had left from the Sunnydale docks moments before sunrise and Cordy knew

that if it hadn't been for Dawn and whatever the teenage had told Angel, the

vampire would have greeted the sun.

So Cordelia sat on the couch, once tall body curled into herself, in a vain

attempt to stop the pain and to hold herself together. She'd be ready, though,

when her time came. She'd be ready because she was not going o disappoint

Doyle again. Or disappoint herself.

~~~~~~~~~~

The minutes ticked by and it was as if she could hear them.

An interesting move considering there wasn't a clock in the whole house. But

Buffy knew that things were counting down, even without Connor's words,

Doyle's appearance, or Willow and Tara's arrival.

She resisted the urge to look behind her to her friends. She never got the

chance to tell Tara goodbye, the other woman was dead by the time Warren

shot Buffy, by the time any of them realized that another of Warren's bullets

had gone wild into the house. And Willow. No matter what had happened

between the friends, no matter how far apart they had grown during those

months last year, they were starting to regain what they had lost.

And now it was too late for any more. Buffy hadn't run into Willow's arms when

she had suddenly appeared, but she wanted to. No, all they had had was

enough time to exchange greetings, sort out the 'No, I'm not the First' problem

thanks to Angel and Connor, and form the bare essentials of a plan.

"The First smells of death and rage," Angel had said, Connor nodding in

agreement. "None of them smell of anything."

"Besides, there isn't that residual black magick surrounding them," Connor had

added, that serene look encircling him as it usually did now. Buffy gathered,

from both Angel and Gunn, that that wasn't always the case. She was glad that

someone, at least, could feel serenity; it certainly wasn't her.

Buffy glanced at Angel now, wondering how he was holding up. She wanted to

touch him, kiss his aches away, soothe his soul and feel his strong arms

around her in return. But in the distance they could hear the sounds of the

First's army moving towards them and there was no time.Never enough time,

not for them.

Angelus was there as well, a boiling mass of waiting rage that threatened to

overwhelm even her conflicting emotions. Buffy was far from stable at the

moment, too many emotions were racing through her for her to even think

about being on any kind of even keel. But his waiting, his eagerness to fight, to

protect her was all there.

Buffy sighed as they waited for the demons to draw near enough to attack.

Wasn't it enough that she had herself to deal with? Buffy's anger and jealously

towards Cordelia, Buffy's hurt and love, jealous rage, hope and suspicion of

Angel. She hated and loved Angel, wanted to curl into him and never let go but

she also wanted to pound on him until he couldn't move and she couldn't hit

any longer.

See, mass of confusion.

They were getting closer now, the sounds of large beings tramping through the

underbrush louder with every passing second. There was something else, off to

the side, but Buffy didn't take her attention away from the advancing army long

enough to acknowledge it.

Familiar, though, she thought, it was a familiar feeling that passed through her,

strong ties, blood and family. But then the first Turok-Han broke through the

tree line right in front of her and a group of green and brown demon to the left

and Buffy dismissed it.

With a battle cry that broke the dusky night and was heard throughout the little

town of Sunnydale, Buffy and Angel attacked. She the epitome of all slayers,

stronger, faster the ultimate expression of Power, and even that was

augmented by the demon within her, raging, shouting, promising a long and

painful death to all who touched his mate.

The fact that Angelus couldn't physically harm anyone was not the point; should

Buffy be hurt, he'd find a way to make her attackers pay.

Her eyes flashed golden as she took her sword, the same sword that was

blessed by the knight who had once killed Acathla, and beheaded the nearest

Turok-Han.

Angel was right beside her, no further than necessary despite the battle. His

eyes were blood red, his face that of the vampire within even if he no longer

carried the demon himself. He didn't understand it and wasn't sure he wanted

to, but all that mattered at this moment was the battle. Was protecting his mate

and winning against the First Evil. In that order.

His lips pulled back in a snarl and a growl of rage issued from his mouth. He

was the First Vampire, not equal but superior to any Turok-Han that attacked

them. Angel was the ultimate childe of the First Turok, reborn to be the First

Evil's greatest weapon. A weapon that turned on It and was now used for his

own needs.

Strong and sure, more powerful than any of the Turok's that emerged from the

dense foliage surrounding the west side of the house, his power was

augmented by the woman beside him.

Angel was always stronger with Buffy by his side, just as she was always

stronger with him. Together they made a forceful and formidable team.

Side by side against the attacking hoards, Buffy and Angel stood together,

mirroring each other's stance, each other's techniques. Death incarnate. All

waiting to happen in a bloody but beautiful ballet that sang with their passion

and their strength.

The potentials were now interspersed with the rest of the group, picking off

what demons made it past the couple. They were massive; the sheer

numbersfacing them was slightly on the overwhelming side. It was just past

sunset, the last rays of the sun still faintly lightening the darkening sky.

Something was going on, something Angel thought he should realize, but

before he could figure out what was happening, they broke through the

surrounding brush, en masse, and attacked.

Due to their overwhelming numbers it was easy to do so and that's exactly what

the demons did. In a perfectly synchronized ballet, amid a strange feeling of

magickal static, the two warriors fought. Each movement complimented the

other and if the rest of their gang wasn't so busy fighting for their lives they

might have taken a brief moment to watch.

Gunn grunted and hacked away at a large and green demon he never wanted

to see again. The Turok's were left to Buffy and Angel who had the weapons to

kill them; blessed swords augmented by their magickally enhanced strength

were the only things killing those creatures.

Connor fought at his back and Gunn was oddly comforted by that realization.

Whether it was the fact that the angry young man no longer seemed to be so or

that Gunn knew the boy was destined to be greater than all of them combined

even he could not say. But the anger and rage which shadowed everything

Connor did before being held captive by Angelus was gone, replaced by a

purpose few had in life.

Faith kept her eye on the potentials, feeling an odd affinity with those who were

destined to replace her. She tried not to think on it, but the idea was always

there, mocking her, tailing her, reminding her that she was the line now and that

the girls behind and next to her were the next step in that line, in a line that was

now all bound up in Buffy.

Buffy, Faith noticed as she spared a glance for her sister slayer, who was

fighting as if she fended off the hoards of hell every damn day. She had yet to

break a sweat, Faith noticed, and was barely breathing heavily. Augmented

strength certainly had its advantages.

But then another demon attacked and Faith was caught in a circle of them,

fighting for her life.

Giles watched Buffy. He hadn't meant to, was in fact supposed to be guarding

their backs, but he was worried about her. Especially with the revelations from

both she and Angel about the power of the Slayers and the presence of

Angelus, respectively. He wanted to see for himself what kind of effects

Angelus had on her.

She was smooth in her movements, but she always had been, controlled,

sleek. But there was something about the way she held herself, a recklessness

that permeated her being. The smirk of pleasure, the flashing of golden eyes he

could see from where he stood, everything about her screamed several things

at the watcher.

One was that Buffy had indeed grown from the too young girl he had first met

all those years ago into not only her power, but herself, too. Her style had

evolved, that much Giles knew just by all but living with her for several years.

The second was that the Slayers within her brought a strength and style to

Buffy that he couldn't have predicted.

Whereas before his girl had the strength to behead a vampire, now she could

do it with one hand, the other engaged in fending off another, while keeping a

well-trained eye on Angel. Incredible.

The third thing Giles recognized was that smirk. Angelus, pure unadulterated

Angelus there. The demon captured within Buffy was, as Angel had said, not

trapped in a closed off area of her soul, but was there for all to see. And if the

expression on Buffy's face was any indication, he wasn't happy.

Rage glittered in her eyes, eyes that were vampiric golden. A snarl that easily

matched Angel's graced her still beautiful features but Giles knew. The rage,

the deadly viciousness toward a perceived enemy, the systematic calculated

probing for another's weakness. Angelus was as much a part of his obsession

as he could get and from the look of it he was reveling in it. As much, the

watcher suspected, as Angel wished to be.

"Giles!" Connor shouted, forcing the former watcher from his critical scrutiny of

the blonde slayer. Just barely in time Giles lifted his sword, blocking the

downward slash from a Bringer. In another instant the would-be Ancient was by

his side, but Giles nodded his help off.

Chastising himself for his lack of concentration, Giles moved forward to enter

the fray, leaving Dawn and Anya to finish packing their cars. If retreat was

necessary, he wanted to be ready.

Gunn, Faith, Robin and, strangely enough, Andrew, formed a line between the

advancing demons and the potentials. Andrew was battered and bloody

andshaking, looking ready to run at a moments notice. Why he was still there

was anyone's guess. Gunn and Robin looked tired but ready to continue the

fight. There was nothing super-powered about them but they weren't about to

let a world they swore to protect down.

Faith was exhilarated. She hadn't had this much action in ages and even with

the seriously outnumbered odds, there was a grin on her face. Her gaze swept

back and forth among the dwindling demons and she wondered at the

resources of the First. Or, she amended as her gaze took in the falling

numbers, the lack of resources.

That didn't make any sense.

Looking at the slowly advancing demons, Faith muttered, "Where are the rest

of the Turok's? I thought they were the First's big bad army, so where the hell

are they?"

"Waiting?" Anya asked as she joined the fray, wondering the same thing herself

as she gripped her sword tighter in suddenly sweaty fists. "Waiting to pick up

our pieces or maybe to attack the rest of the town once we're gone?"

"A little positive thinking here, please, Anya," Dawn grunted as she, too, joined

the fight, swinging her sword at a fat demon that looked too overweight to move

much less fight. Too bad for her he could.

Angel said nothing as he fought next to Buffy, too focused on not letting any of

the admittedly small numbers of Turok-Han's past him to harm her. The fact

that she could take care of herself, more than, now that she possessed the

powers of the slayers, meant nothing. She was his, his love, his mate, and

nothing was going to harm her if he had any say in it.

Slash, cut, dodge, jump over sweeping feet, duck swinging arms or clubs, leap

to one side or the other as more of the ugly bastards surged forward, intent on

taking the place of their fallen brethren. He was suddenly extremely grateful

that only his strength was remade into that of a Turok-Han. They were even

uglier than Nest had been and that was saying something.

She flipped over the seven-foot tall vampire all the while keeping an eye on

Angel. Make sure nothing happens to Angel, make sure Angel is safe; it was

more a mantra to her than keeping herself safe. Buffy slashed through the neck

of a Turok, grinning at the sheer exhilaration to be had, and before the dust had

a chance to settle, she was fighting off another.

But Angel was always in her sights.

Buffy buried deep within her any extraneous feelings she had, except those of

her mate's survival; and even if she wasn't consciously acknowledging Angel as

such, she always had, time and distance had not changed that. Plus the slayers

within her knew him to be hers (theirs) and weren't going to let anything happen

to him.

So she buried everything but Survival - hers and Angel's - and Buffy became

the Slayer. All the slayers within her clamored for the blood of the demons

before her, the threat to their continued existence and their mate's and so Buffy

focused. She focused all her strength, her attention and her skills on them.

Against the combined efforts of every single slayer ever, they never stood a

chance.

Angelus, not to be outdone by a bunch of slayers, though he couldn't feel them

at all, let alone the way Buffy did, lent his knowledge of various demon species.

While the others seemed to have that well under control, one or two slipped by

them and went for Buffy. He wasn't about to let anything happen to his mate,

either.

It was his need to protect Buffy that was foremost in his thoughts and feelings.

That and his need to see the slaughter of her enemies, even if it was of his own

kind. His rage became her own and when one hapless demon who had decided

to attack the slayer directly witnessed her eyes turn golden; he was dead in

seconds for his surprised hesitation.

The potentials were terrified. They had fought before, a demon here, a small

nest of vampires there. Never this. This was the stuff movies were made of, this

happened in television or in books, or on video games.

This didn't happen in real life.

Their lives hadn't prepared them for this, even the time they spent here, in

Sunnydale first with Buffy then Faith hadn't prepared them for this. Oh, the

slayers had tried, but what good were words when there was no point of

reference? 'Attacking demons' sounded fine, but how many constituted

'demons?' Three? Five? Ten? The number 'a hundred,' or 'hundreds,' was

never thought of no matter what everyone from Buffy to Dawn and even

Andrew tried to tell them.

And now they were faced with that and more. Swords shook in grips and

crossbows were wielded with unsteady aim at best. But terror was its own

adrenaline and the terrified girls did their best against their very nightmares.

If they noticed that very few demons made it past the more experienced

fighters, none of the potentials commented, too busy fighting off the ones who

did make it past.

With an arm longer than the dozen or so remaining potentials were high, the

Ver'zn demon swatted at Corrine, sending the tall Italian girl crashing into the

wall. Her sword clattered to the ground and she limply slid next to it. No one

noticed when the poor girl didn't get back up.

For its effort, the Ver'zn demon was set upon by screaming girls, now more

angry than frightened. In a gruesome display of hatred, the demon was hacked

to death, splattering the girls with a greenish ooze that constituted its blood.

With renewed energy they turned to the next enemy, swords at the ready.

It finally all made sense to them; it was a simple choice, their lives or the

demons. They chose their lives and would now do anything to ensure their own

- and those with them - survival.

Willow, Tara, and Doyle stayed in the background.

Had Buffy realized this at the time, she would have said something. As it was,

she was too busy fighting for her life to notice the lack of magickal otherworldly

reinforcements. The so-called reinforcements, however, were performing their

own ritual.

This they could stop, this they were allowed to and would, maybe even if they

weren't allowed to. Because this wasn't IT. This was the forerunner, the pre-

show. This was easy. It was the rest that wasn't.

It was that rest where interference wasn't permitted or even accepted. The

Blood Harvest could only be stopped by The Chosen and The Souled Vampire.

It was written, it was prophesied, and it was truly the only way. Mutable

prophecies aside, this one was absolute in its execution and completion Buffy

and Angel were the only two who could halt the destruction of the world by the

First's Harvest.

The irony was that the First Itself was responsible for that.

If it hadn't intervened all those years ago, during a hot and sunny Christmas,

then Its Harvest would have gone off when it was supposed to several hundred

years from now. And then, at that time, when the balance was truly even and

the world ready for the final battle, it would have brought about the End Days.

Unfortunately, the Ultimate Evil was ultimately too impatient to wait.

And now there was a way to stop It.

A way that It only had Itself to blame. It wanted Angel, wanted Angel to revert to

Angelus, wanted Angelus to rule in Its stead, a Master Vampire, a vicious and

cunning sadist who would wield the power It gave him with perfection. In order

to attain this perfect weapon, It formulated a plan, a long reaching plan that was

as twisted and simple as It was.

It had made moves in that direction a long ago Christmas, taunting Angel with

the Slayer, the one being he wanted, the one being he could never again truly

have without major earth shattering consequences.

Angel left Buffy, causing the two destined warriors to lose both themselves and

each other. It thought It had won. It never realized It set into motion Its own

destruction.

~~~~~~~~~~

Spike leaned against a tree, arms folded across his chest, playful smirk gracing

his hardened continence.

Ah, but it was a glorious sight to behold.

Honestly he could care less about the First and Its 'Grand Plan to Take over the

World.' Whatever, Spike said to that; every other demon and half the humans

on this planet wanted that. No, it was the beautiful scene before him.

Buffy and Angel fighting unspeakable odds, the so called forces of light

diminished to a trickle of nothingness, the witch and the annoying nobody boy

were dead, one watcher all but useless by the looks of that spiffy wheelchair,

the other too intrigued with the slayer to do much of anything but stare at her.

Dawn was something else, he had always had a soft spot for the youngest

Summers, but she seemed to be holding her own. Spike wasn't sure what he

would do if the niblet wasn't but so long as she was, he didn't have to decide.

And if history was likely to repeat itself, and the vampire didn't see what it

wouldn't, Buffy would give her life for her sister.

She couldn't even be bothered to take the time to find him when the First had

him in Its clutches, too busy playing whore to his sire if Drusilla and the First

were to be believed, but Spike was positive Buffy'd save her sister with her last

breath.

The big poof, though, he had changed. Spike couldn't put his finger on what

that change was, but it was there. More, something. Strength, anger, guilt,

brooding, hair gel? It was something, Spike was sure. Something other than the

blood red eyes he could see from his vantage point. What was that all about?

Drusilla floated around both him and the tree, dancing to a tune only she could

hear. There was a beatific smile on her face and Spike couldn't help but smile

back. This was as it should be; this was exactly as it should be. He and Dru, no

one else, no annoying grandsires, no whore of a great-grandsire, no souls,

nothing to worry about but what city to visit next.

Just he and his black princess.

At the thought of 'souls,' his own gave a meager peep that only served to

remind the now scowling vampire of the stupidity he had gone through, of the

idiocy being a neutered dog on the slayer's leash had driven him to. He had

actually volunteered to have his soul returned. Yeah, he was a loser; no wonder

Dru had left him. He was pathetic.

But all that changed. He had his soul, so what, who cared? It wasn't the big

deal Angel made it out to be, wasn't the brooding-quality lament that his

grandsire took it as. The best part about this whole soul-having thing...was that

it could be ignored.

"Ooh, that had to hurt," Spike commented from his vantage point as Corrine

was knocked into the wall. "No getting up from that. Too bad, too, I bet potential

blood has that same kick as the real thing."

Dru laughed and stopped her mad dance in front of him, draping her arms

about his neck and snapping her jaws near his throat. "Soon, my pet," she

whispered, "Soon the Queen of Hearts will see the board clear and her King will

be there with her. They are one and two, two in one, many to each other and

only each other."

Spike nodded, his attention divided between Dru's confusing ramblings and the

continuing fight before him. "So it's almost over then, ducks? This fight, I mean.

The First's little party is all set to start," Christ, he sounded like Drusilla and her

ramblings now. "Will the slayer and peaches know this?"

That had been the debate for several long hours, should he and Dru tell Angel

and Buffy of the First's big plan? Or should they continue to ally themselves

with the Evil?

"They know, my Spike, The Queen and her Kings know, but only half the board

has been revealed. It is up to us to take the cover off and show them the rest. If

we don't, daddy loses. And mummy doesn't like it when that happens."

Yesterday she had begun to refer to Buffy as 'mummy' and frankly it still

freaked Spike out. Why Dru did that was anyone's guess, but he accepted it

only because he hadn't another choice.

"So we tell them, then, princess?" He looked back to the battling couple, noting

how well they moved together and how easily they dispatched their enemies.

Graceful and deadly, rage pouring off the pair of them in blatant waves that

attested to their closeness.

Despite the distance Spike knew lay between them, they still acted as if it had

been hours rather than years since they last fought together. More than

anything else, that unnerved Spike; if it were possible for the two of them to

know each other's moves so intimately even now, what chance had he ever

had?

None, he had never had a chance with Buffy and he knew that, always had.

Too bad he hadn't acknowledged it before the damn soul. Could have saved

everyone a lot of trouble.

There was more that he was missing, Spike was sure of that. But it couldn't be

helped now; Drusilla insisted that telling Angel and Buffy was for the best, so

that was what they were going to do. "Assuming they survive this little

distraction."

~~~~~~~~~~

"There's something wrong," Buffy said as she beheaded another Turok. It was

almost as if they were coming in just enough of a trickle to distract her and

Angel, and keep them busy, but not overwhelm them.

She was cut in several places but the blood had dried already, her cuts healing

almost instantaneously with her supernatural healing. She wasn't tired, not

even winded; there was too much pent up energy flowing through her for that.

But she was starting to tremble, just lightly, but it was enough to piss her off

even if at the same time she desperately wanted to attack Angel's jugular and

taste him once more.

Almost as if her body knew that soon she would need her mate's blood and

couldn't wait. And that pissed her off even more.

Angelus was not helping the situation; images of her drinking from Angel while

the vampire did the same to her were a constant barrage that he insisted on

showing her. It wasn't enough to distract her from the fight, or even from

Angelus helping her with that, but it was...distracting.

"I know," Angel replied to her statement as he threw off a brown furred demon

from the still angry and wired potentials. He hoped they realized that he was a

friend, not an enemy. He knew he could take them but that wasn't the point;

they needed all the fighters they had. Injuring any on their team wasn't in the

cards no matter how temporary the injury was.

"But I'm not entirely sure what." He finished as he returned to Buffy's side once

more.

Distance, physical distance was something he never again wanted between

them. The emotional distance was something he'd work on in the coming days

and months, but if it could be helped, physically he'd never be further apart

from her than several arms length.

Especially now that she seemed to need his blood as well as whatever

emotional support he could give. Support he intended on giving in a steady and

constant stream until one of them died.

"You mean other then the fact that as of now we aren't overrun with the forces

of hell?"

Angel smiled at that, "Yeah, exactly. Either we're missing something huge, or

the First is toying with us."

"Or both."

"I vote for both," Angel said, again turning his attention to the side, seeking out

the faint humming. There was a small lull in the proceedings and he recognized

that feeling now. "Family."

"What?" Buffy asked as she, too, looked in the direction Angel was now

heading.

Angel stalked off to the side, homing in on the feelings running through his

blood. How could he have missed this before? Familial ties were strongest,

second only to mated bonds; he should have picked up on the presence of two

of his childer immediately. He couldn't say why he hadn't, whether the demon

was actually residing within him or not hadn't made a difference so far, it

shouldn't in this, either.

Even before the scent reached him, Angel knew it was Spike and Drusilla. No

one else had an interest in this town, these people. And no one else was

involved enough with the situation to care. If Robin was to be believed - and

Angel figured there wasn't a reason not to believe the son of the slayer who

wanted revenge on Spike - they were in league with the First.

A low constant growl emanated from him but Angel didn't notice, too intent on

getting to his grandchile and rending him limb from limb. Twice. Before the real

fun began. He felt Buffy next to him, felt her anxiety and concern, her mistrust

and suspicion and her hatred and loathing. Which emotion was directed at

which vampire was anyone's guess.

Placing a hand on her shoulder, Angel felt the tension within her and stopped

his stalking. She was what mattered, not the two before him, only Buffy. She

relaxed slightly under his hand, turning to look at him for a moment. With a nod,

they moved forward again, knowing they wouldn't sneak up on the vampire

couple but not caring.

This wasn't about a sneak attack, but about confrontation.

Unfortunately, Spike didn't see it that way.

The youngest vampire pushed away from the tree and, allowing that motion to

carry him forward, attacked Buffy. Rage and betrayal were pumping through

him, making him careless and aggressive in the face of the odds, which were

decidedly against him.

Buffy easily held him off; she had done it before being changed, now it was as

easy as swatting a mosquito. Easier, actually, as Spike's assault was emotion-

based, he never was one to play it cool. Throwing the blonde against the tree

on handed, Buffy snarled at him. "Stay there, boy, or I'll forget that you once

helped her...me."

Angelus' rage washed over Buffy and again she was forced to wonder why he

had never displayed these possessive and almost caring feelings for her when

they had first met. What changed between then and now? Not that it mattered,

Buffy supposed, but she was curious and Angelus wasn't sharing.

Shaking her head, regaining her bearings, Buffy turned to Angel, always the

first she looked to, that hadn't changed no matter what happened between

them. He stood there, a snarl directed at Spike as Dru floated around him. That

display wasn't helping her roller coaster emotions in the least but the look

Angel's face was priceless.

He looked angry, extremely so but...scared.

Of what? Buffy tried to pry the lid off Angelus' memories, but the demon had

over a century to become used to sharing both body and thoughts with another,

Buffy had only days. He wasn't budging, not letting anything escape from the

carefully concealed memories. Why? Something slipped through, though,

something about Drusilla and...Darla?

Yet another item on the ever-growing list of things for her to ask Angel.

"I thought I told you next time I saw you, Dru," Angel growled, slipping into his

vamp face as his eyes quickly flashed blood red before reverting to their normal

brown. "I'd kill you."

Dru whimpered, "Daddy's mad...no, no, daddy's gone, he's hiding, with her, in

her."

Angel shot Buffy a glance, both wondering how Dru seemingly knew about

Angelus' new status within Buffy. And what the mad vampiress was going to do

about that information.

"Spike," Buffy said in a low voice that held no emotion whatsoever, sparing a

brief glance at Drusilla who had moved away from Angel and was looking

between the slayer and her vampire with confusion. She had really never

wanted to see the mad vampiress again. "And Drusilla; and here I thought,

Spike, that you were in trouble."

'Hello, Drusilla, my pretty.' Angelus purred in happiness, 'How's my favorite

childe?'

Drusilla said nothing, but began to hum to herself as she floated around Buffy.

The slayer did nothing but it was obvious she was uncomfortable: crazy

vampiress who hated her more than almost anything in this world dancing

around her like a Tchaikovsky ballet? Only discomfort to be found there.

Angel was torn between laughing at the situation - it wasn't every day his

beautiful but crazed childe danced around his even more beautiful mate - and

growling at Drusilla. He knew as well as Angelus that she sensed the demon

within Buffy.

Still, Dru spinning around Buffy was indeed a sight to behold.

Buffy growled at her demon; that one sound enough to let Angelus know her

jealously. The demon smiled and purred right back at her. 'You know I love only

you, my sweet mate. But Drusilla...she's my finest creation. Everything I ever

imagined in a childe she is and was; I truly adore her. Most times.'

'Pride in your...creation, Angelus? I'm thinking lustful possession is more likely.'

Buffy shot back, eyes turning to Angel to see his reaction to the increasingly

bizarre situation. She knew he hadn't been the one to create Drusilla, but was

there still some attachment?

'She's beautiful, admit it. And a good fuck; I did, after all, teach her everything

she knows.' Buffy scowled then and Angel had to wonder what his - her? -

former demon was saying to cause this reaction. Angelus simply laughed.

'But you, my beautiful love, are truly the only one for me. I worship you and you

know that; Drusilla is a pale comparison to you, a simplistic watercolor to your

vibrant life. You are beyond a doubt my everything, too bad I'm not in a position

to prove - over and over throughout several long days and nights - just how true

that is.'

'I so don't want to hear it, lover,' Buffy shot back sarcastically, jealously

clouding her vision more than the rage from before.

Angelus was trying to get a rise out of her and was succeeding. He was also

trying, Buffy suspected, to get her to figure a way to put him back in Angel's

body. The body? Semantics were a real bitch. Not the point, Buffy thought as

she tried to remember how to breathe again, hoping to level her system. It

wasn't working.

She tried to clamp down on her rising emotions, knowing Angelus had a firmer

control when she was out of control. Between Cordelia's arrival and Angel's

reactions to her, Buffy's own conflicting emotions when it came to the duel

natures of her vampire, Angelus' torturing of the seer, Spike's obviously alive

and not in trouble presence before her, and now Angelus' comments about

Drusilla, the fact that Buffy knew Dru wanted Angelus back...it was all too

much.

Angelus pushed his way through, again, and didn't take over Buffy so much as

severely skewered her emotions to those he wished.

Buffy growled deep in her throat and snapped at Dru in a show of vampiric

foreplay which had the vampiress squealing happily. She leaned forward,

catching the petite slayer in her arms and pressing her cool lips to the slayer's

warm ones.

The two males were too shocked to do anything but watch as the slayer, who

hated the vampiress, and the mad vampiress, who hated the slayer, kissed.

Angel growled in jealously: it was bad enough that Angelus' essence was within

Buffy, living closer to the slayer than he, Angel; it was worse to have Angelus

distort her viewpoints as much as he could, but this. This was intolerable.

Sharing Buffy's affections with his demon half was one thing, having that

demon half control - at least Angel hoped it was Angelus' influence that caused

this little scene - Buffy enough to kiss his childe?

Stalking forward, Angel grasped Buffy by the arm, prying her away from her

ostensibly eager embrace with Dru. Both whimpered in protest.

Buffy was scowling, both internally and externally. Damn it all, had she really

just kissed Dru? She had Dru-germs now, ugh. Dru, for her part, was purring

like a kitten, hands fluttering over Buffy's face. Angel stood a mere foot away,

not sure what to do.

"Mummy's angry, she's all confused but she's so strong now. A thousand and

one, a thousand and one, all for her, all for him, all for eternity. The Queen of

Hearts knows what and who but does she know where?"

Angel had no idea what his childe was crooning about but he didn't like it - was

she still his childe if he no longer carried the demon? Too many questions for

him to worry about now, especially with a harvest to stop. And a diversionary

battle to stop; glancing over his shoulder somewhat guiltily, Angel noted that

the troops were handling the minions just fine.

Good for them.

"Dru, what do you know?" He asked in his best Sire Voice. Demon or not, he

knew the drill. (Carrying the demon or not? A demonic soul? No, no, his soul

wasn't demonic, how about a souled demon? Then what was he before?

Damn, this was too confusing. Best not to think on it too much.)

Whimpering, Dru looked from Buffy to Angel. "Daddy?" She floated over to

Angel again, murmuring to herself too softly for even the two vampires to

understand her. "No, daddy's gone, divided and whole. He's happy now, so

content in his new square. He's sharing, you know, sharing with the Queen."

She was looking at Buffy when she said that but looked to Angel now, still too

close to him for either Buffy's or Spike's liking. "Daddy?" She asked again, then,

"So different, but still in the same square as the Queen of Hearts, no longer

sharing space with the black king, this white king, no, no, but he's still the

same, still the same."

Buffy resisted asking, 'Huh?' and decided to remain silent. She had enough

confusion without adding Drusilla's. Angelus was mentally licked his chops, still

cooing from Dru's kiss.

Buffy wanted to hit him. She settled for ignoring him, blocking him out of her as

much as she could manage.

He didn't like that and retaliated by injecting scenes of Angel setting fire to

Drusilla, Darla, and a bunch of humans. What...? Buffy let out a soft sob which

was ignored by Dru and Spike but which Angel heard. Looking into her eyes, he

wondered which of his many sins Angelus was sharing with his beloved.

Straightening from against the tree, where he had watched the entire scene

play out, the blonde vampire snorted in derision as he warily eyed the slayer,

his consort and his grandsire. What the fuck had just happened? And what the

fuck did Dru mean?

"Drusilla, pet?" He asked, pulling her attention away from the couple who were

inching closer to each other, seemingly unknowingly. Some things never

change. "What was that all about?"

Before Dru could answer, though Buffy wasn't entirely sure that answer was

going to make sense, the slayer said, "Spike, what happened to you?"

"The First had me, but I think you know that by now. Wanted to turn me into

one of Its minions, an ally to use against you and your little friends. And you did

ever so much to help me didn't you slayer?" He taunted her, rubbing her nose

in the fact that she had promised to do just that. "I'm just fine, as you can see,"

he added with a flicker of his cigarette.

"Things spiraled out of control a little too quickly, Spike." Buffy said, defending

herself all the while wondering why she was bothering. What did she care?

Guilt was the only thing she felt towards the second ensouled vampire; guilt for

not being able to help Angel when he first received his soul, guilt for being too

scared of her own feelings to help him thoroughly the second time. "But it

doesn't matter, does it?"

"No," Angel added, barely resisting the urge to rip the younger vampire in two.

He had rage issues and wasn't sure who to direct them to first; Angelus, Dru,

Spike, or Buffy. "It doesn't. What does matter is where you've been and why

you're still alive."

Spike laughed again and it was that sound, more than anything, that confirmed

Angel's suspicions. His grandchilde might have had a soul, but it wasn't the

dominant factor in the being. The demon was. Briefly Angel wondered if the

U.S. government approved chip still functioned.

He was betting no.

Just then Drusilla cooed at Buffy, "Daddy's here and the Queen of Hearts has

him. She has daddy, she's mummy." Dru smiled, caressing Buffy's cheek with a

hand, leaning in closely to whisper, "Hello daddy, hello mummy."

Laughing, Dru nuzzled Buffy's cheek and just as quickly, before the slayer

could respond by moving away or perhaps staking Drusilla, the vampiress

jumped back, crying as if burned.

"A hundred thousand and more, they're all in there, too many, so much, she

has it all, she is all. The Queen is all powerful and daddy's not getting out." She

shifted her eyes to Angel and continued in her sing-song voice. "Daddy's hers,

he always was, and he always will be. Always, always, always."

Angel couldn't dispute that and doubted Angelus could or would, either. But

why had Dru acted as if touching Buffy burnt when mere moments ago they

had been kissing? That jealous rage that hadn't really died surged back to life

as if someone had stoked the embers.

Spike looked from Dru to Buffy. "What? Dru, luv, what are you talking about?"

"The slayers, my Spike. She's the slayers."

At first Spike didn't hear the plural part of the word 'slayer.' All he heard was

'She's the slayer' and was about to comment that of course she was; where

had Dru been for the last several years? But he didn't, pausing just before the

words could leave his mouth.

Suddenly everything made sense. Or, well, started to at least.

Turning to Angel he squinted at his grandsire once more, listening, really

listening this time, to the vibrations in his blood. They were still there: a faint

thing that he could - and did - overlook when in close proximity to Angel. The

same feelings were coming from Buffy now, too, only...stronger?"Bloody hell!

How...? What happened? What'd you do to yourself?"

He still didn't understand the 'slayers' part but the tingling slayer feeling he

usually got off Buffy was magnified. About a thousand fold.

Buffy's eyes flashed golden and before she had a chance to clamp down on

him again, Angelus gleefully reared forward.

"Come now, Spikey. Haven't you figured it out yet? Then again, you always

were the slow one. I know my baby Dru here already knows." The sounds (near

purrs) were coming from Buffy but the words weren't hers. They

were...Angelus'?

"What the hell?" Spike was at a loss, completely unsure what to say. Or do, or

think for that matter. It was a mythological demonic fact that once someone was

turned into a vampire, the demon took over the body and the soul was free to

leave. Now in the case of Peaches over there, his soul was stuffed into his

body to cohabitate it with the demon.

Spike ignored his own soul situation with the argument that that stupid jaunt to

Africa was some kind of mental breakdown brought on by the deteriorating

government approved chip in his brain.

Still, there was the presence of the demon, Angelus. How was it that the demon

was now in Buffy? Spike squinted at the slayer as if myopic and wondered if his

little theory was accurate: Angelus was within Buffy and Angel was all soulful

goodness and alone - for the first time in a hundred years - in his own body.

Who else was confused here?

"So, Peaches, now you really are a soul-having Poof. How's that feel, to know

that Angelus is all cozy within the object of his obsession?" Spike cast a sly

look at Angel and noted the jealous anger there. Could this day possibly get

any better? He grinned and thought probably not, it was pretty damn good

already.

"Wonder what kinds of plans the good old scourge has for her?" His voice

dropped to a conspirital whisper that all could still hear. "Wonder what kinds of

memories he's sharing?"

Angel growled, his eyes flashing red, a move that had Spike rethinking his next

words. So he swallowed whatever he could have possibly said because while it

was the best of fun to needle his (former) grandsire, he wasn't sure what words

were going to come out of his mouth. This situation just got way stranger.

Of course the interactions between Angel and Buffy were the same, the blonde

vampire thought as he absently searched for another cigarette.

Angel took Buffy's hand again, sensing the anger that threatened to boil over,

confirming his suspicion that when she experienced strong emotions Angelus

was able to move closer to the surface. Caressing her cheek with his free hand,

Angel tilted Buffy's head so their eyes locked.

Leaning down until their foreheads touched, Angel murmured nonsensical

words in Gaelic and continued to stroke her cheek, his lips inches from hers.

Nodding once, Buffy took a deep breath and turned back to the couple. Spike

looked like he was about to die from apoplexy - was it possible for vampires to

die from strokes? - and Dru still cradled her hand, rubbing her lips every few

seconds.

"You broke Vampire Law, Spike," Angel said. His voice carried a hint of

menace, more compelling for that soft lilt, his eyes flashed red but he stood

perfectly still. "You touched my mate, you, who are my Childe's Childe not only

touched her in one of the most intimate of ways, but professed feelings towards

her."

Spike shifted against the tree, suddenly wondering about the rest of his unlife.

Angel's voice echoed around him as if in a cave but the younger vampire knew

it was only an effect. It happened to be a damned good one.

"By law you should be staked to the ground to await the first kiss of the rising

sun as word of your disloyalty, your betrayal spread among the underworld.

Personally," Angel continued with a smile, "I'd rather rip you limp from limp and

use every single method of torture ever invented."

Dru whimpered, Spike wanted to bluster at Angel's words but the best he came

up with was, "You aren't my bloody Sire, peaches, you're just a vampire who

lost his demon and is infected with a soul."

A growl escaped Angel and the elder stepped forward. Buffy stepped next to

him, his emotions washing over her to meld with her own and Angelus' and it

was too much, really.

"Leave. Now. The both of you." Buffy squeezed Angel's hand, grateful for his

support even if he was glowering and ready to strike out any second. "I don't

want to ever see the pair of you again and this time," she stressed, glaring at

Spike, "I mean it. Wherever else you go make sure it's not within a hundred

miles of us."

When no one moved for long minutes Angel asked the question that was on

everyone's minds, "What's the First's plan?"

"Its Blood Harvest is nearing," Dru said in a surprisingly sane voice. "It begins

at dawn. It has Its innocents and only needs the final ingredient."

"Do you know what that is?" Buffy asked.

Shaking her head, the vampiress added, "No but Its close. The pawns are in

position and the Queen and her Kings are ready."

Buffy nodded. And Angelus surged forward, single-minded in his goal of

keeping her from harm. 'Kill her, lover, kill the both of them. Can you really

guarantee that they won't come stumbling back? Spike did and tortured the

soulful one over there to within an inch of his life it was pathetic. If he can't

protect himself how is he going to protect you? And what makes you think this

time will be different than the last?'

Buffy stood there, stunned. If it wasn't Angelus who wanted the vampire couple

to leave, then...it was her? Refusing to give into his demands, intent on

resisting him any way she could, Buffy stood her ground.

"Take him Dru," she instructed the vampiress. "Take him and go because he

doesn't do well without you. But make sure you don't ever return to the

Hellmouth, Dru, or within those hundred miles I warned you about.

Angel still said nothing. This was her decision, he knew, and he would stand by

that decision. He wouldn't like it, but he's stand by her.

"Mummy's freeing us, my Spike," Dru said as she clasped his hand. "Daddy's

angry," she looked to Angel. "And Daddy wants to see her safe from

everything, even us," here she looked back to Buffy but the group figured she

was really looking at Angelus.

"I understand, mummy." Dru said and kissed Buffy once more before tugging

Spike away.

Angelus' rage was a burst of light within her. 'Shh, lover,' she soothed him. 'I

had to let them go. I had to because because Spike did help me in the past.

Because he's only good with Drusilla; he really is a bitch for love. Because Dru

is only good with him; all he's ever really wanted was her back again.

I'll probably have to kill them in the future, but it won't be without giving them a

fighting chance and time. If they're smart they may manage to avoid us

indefinitely and they'll get that unlife together now.'

"Buffy?" Angel asked as he watched his childe and grandchilde disappear into

the night. Turning, sword still in hand, he held the other out to his beloved. Had

she let Spike go because she had feelings for him? Or was it because she

wanted to see he and Dru try once more?

Angel didn't know but suspected it was the latter. Only because she had come

to save him. If that didn't prove one's love, what did?

"Ready to stop this thing, love?"

Buffy smiled at him, grateful for his understanding even if he hadn't said the

words. "Let's go kick some First ass."