More Than Words

TO TAKE COMFORT IN YOU

Angel gripped the receiver tightly, pressing it to his ear as though the news might somehow escape him. Thoughts of that night, of Marcus, of the victims, of Fred- in fact, *all* thoughts- were gone.

He waited, expecting the phone to turn to dust at any moment, just as it had so many times in his dreams, in the dreams where he didn't see her, couldn't touch her...the dreams where the ending was easier, kinder, kinder than life, kinder than his permanent death. The dreams where he turned to dust too.

"Angel? Is that you?"

A quivering voice, young, so impossibly young for such power.

"Yes," his answer was sharp, impatient. Stalling? Was she stalling? Was there more, something wrong? "Is it true?" he had to know, of course he had to know.

"I did it, Angel," Willow's nervous words hummed with unsung pride, but still, she paused- for dramatic effect, or maybe to breathe...Angel didn't care. It felt like the longest moment of his life...and his death...and all those centuries after; in Europe, in Sunnydale, in a hell dimension...

He waited.

At the other end of the line, Willow allowed herself a small, satisfied smile. If Angel had seen it, it would have put him in mind of the Willow he once knew. The girl who had shown such courage in the face of vampires and demons and evil itself. The girl to whom the world owed- in part at least- its very existence. The girl who, in spite of all that, sought acceptance, assurance, validation, and now- from Angel- the praise that others had denied her. Because he would understand.

It wasn't about rules and risks and dangerous magic, it was about Buffy. About bringing her back at all costs. Somewhere, Willow harboured the unshakeable belief that it was what Angel wanted, that he had begged her to do it without ever saying a word, that he would have done it himself, when he finally believed what had happened, when the thick cloud of grief had lifted and the injustice spoke to him. Angered him. When he couldn't bear it any longer. Couldn't bear that she was gone.

The knowledge made her bold and, finally, she spoke, "Buffy's alive."

Angel began a slow blink, eyelids laden with the effort of pretending, months of pretending. That he was okay, that it would be okay. That he wasn't afraid to close his eyes and see her face, smiling, sunlit...cold... dead. That every time he did, he wasn't absolutely sure he would never find the strength to open them again.

She was alive. If he never saw her again it was enough.

She was alive.

He felt the calm, silent peace infiltrate his body, felt it warm him, comfort him, and for a moment, for one blessed moment, he knew happiness. He let it fill him, consume him, he basked in the selfish pleasure and hugged it close until he was burning with it.

But the burning...

It didn't stop.

The fire spread, growing hotter, growing vicious...it scraped and blistered and began to tear at the walls of his flesh, he strangled a cry as the pain reached its peak, eyes flying wide, muscles tensed and then the room...the room was swirling, violence, retracting and swirling and he was falling away, every fibre of his being begged for it to stop, he couldn't leave her, couldn't hurt her, not even for the peace, he mustn't, had to fight it...him...save everyone from it, from himself...it had to stop...he had to make it stop...

"Angel!"

Cordelia's voice, distant, lost.

She burst into the office, alerted by the soft thud as Angel fell to his knees, the phone, the miracle, the news, still clutched in his hand.

"Angel! My God, what's wrong? I was just outside and I- in no way eavesdropping- I..."

Willow's muffled voice could be heard at the other end of the line as Cordelia tried to prize his hand open, grunting in frustration at the effort it required, finally Gunn came to kneel beside her, forcing Angel's cold fingers back. She lifted the receiver to her ear with an irritated frown, casting large, shrewd eyes briefly around the room to find Fred and Wesley frozen in the doorway. They were waiting to be told what was wrong, what had happened or...they were quite simply dumbstruck- questions, shouts of concern, all dead on their lips now that they could see...

"Willow, what happ- " Cordelia's voice trailed off as Angel stood up, she moved instinctively towards him, "My God, Angel, are you okay? What happ-"

Cordelia's question went unfinished again, this time because of the expression on Angel's face.

He was leering at her.

She was well acquainted with *that* look...being gorgeous and popular in high school had made sure of it.

"Cordelia, what is it?" Wesley demanded, in his best concerned-leader voice.

Cordelia ignored him and backed away towards one of the desks, keeping her eyes firmly locked on Angel.

She cleared her throat, "Uh, Willow, were you guys, like, having phone sex or something?" she fumbled to open the drawer in front of her, a small, rebellious tremor defying any attempt to sound nonchalant.

A pause as Willow replied.

"Well, because..." Cordelia pulled out a large wooden cross, the group, now crowded in the doorway, flinched in unison as Angel growled and his hands shot up to cover his face, "I think Angel just got a fresh dose of grrr! I'll call you back!"

She slammed the phone down- oh yes, she was prepared for this, but it looked like she was the only one. Cordelia sighed dramatically, "This isn't a damn horror movie, guys, you have to actually *do* something!"

Wesley, man of caution, began to protest, "We don't know that he's-"

The vampire turned to him, looking like, well...like a vampire...and wearing an unmistakeable sardonic grin, "...Angelus. Oh."

Angelus dusted off his old sing-song voice, preparing to greet those of his past acquaintance and the newcomers...especially the newcomers, "Well gee, *guys*, not much of a welcome from my bestest evil fightin' buds, where's the love?"

"Stay back or one of us will stake you, I mean it. One step closer and you're as good as dust," Cordelia warned, going for maximum bitch, minimum petrified bunny caught in headlights of extremely large oncoming truck and shaking like a leaf. When did a leaf last shake anyhow? Her mind was reeling out desperate garbage. Focus, damn it-

"Come on, Cordy, can't we talk about this? I know how you love to talk...and talk...and talk...and- wait, good point - stake me now!" Angelus threw his head back, and laughed. Hard. Oh, it felt good to laugh, so damn good after such a long time.

"Who's gonna do it then?" he sauntered towards the doorway, "How about you, Wes? Rogue demon hunter. You? You're the boss...does that feel good, you like being in charge? Tell them who should stake me, look at them all just waiting for you give the order-"

Wesley straightened, "Touch one of us and you *will* die, Angelus."

"Hmm," Angelus shrugged, "Already dead!"

Gunn rolled his eyes, "Hell, man, keep up the arch enemy comic book crap and *I'll* stake you."

Angelus kept his eyes fixed on Wesley, "Now that boy's funny. I like him, could be more than an eat and run."

He chuckled, as Gunn's attempt to lunge at him was stopped short by an authoritative, barring arm from Wesley. Angelus had used the distraction to inch, gradually, towards Fred, until he was close enough to catch a lock of her hair between his fingers. He smiled at her and began cooing softly, intimately, even while she shrank away, terrified...he had to savour this one.

"I'll snap her sweet...little...neck, if you even think about moving," Angelus spoke casually, it wasn't as if the warning held any surprise, "Leave the stake where it is, Cordy, and Wes...Wesley, Wesley, Wesley, you'll never make it in time." He looked back at them over his shoulder, one arm resting on the doorframe, "We're trying to have a private moment here y'know!"

They hesitated. Which is how they had gotten into this situation in the first place. Now Fred had backed so far out of the doorway that Angelus really could kill her before any of them could get there. More importantly, he would.

"Winifred. Precious, little Fred. Wow. You're pretty, did you know that, baby?" he stroked her face and she trembled more, gratifying Angelus without thinking, "Don't be frightened, birdie, makes me hungry. And I really am hungry," he leaned in close to whisper in her ear, hearing the rapidly beating hearts around him pick up further pace and a strange thing- not a single breath. "It's the fear, I can smell it."

Cordelia panicked, clearing her throat loudly, "So what's the plan, Angelus? Did you decide to celebrate Buffy's come back with a blood bath?"

Wesley and Gunn stared at her and yelled over each other,

"The curse!"

"Don't give him ideas!"

Angelus managed to dredge up just a little more of the chilling laughter that he so enjoyed being notorious for, "Where would I be without you to remind me of my priorities, huh, Cordy?...Hell, did you think I *forgot*? Dear old Buff, alive and well, and no doubt missing her widdle whipped puppy dog, we can't have that can we?" he raised his eyebrows at Cordelia, mimicking her, and then turned his attention back to Fred, lowering his voice to a husky growl, "Be right back, baby."

He planted a rough kiss on her lips and stalked out of the hotel, grinning gleefully at the commotion he left behind. Fred slumped down onto the floor, her long, willowy legs buckling beneath her. The others were soon by her side, Wesley, helping her gently back to her feet, "I'm- I'm okay, honestly," she assured them, "We're pretty lucky really, I guess, it was almost too easy- "

"Exactly, Angelus is twisted, straight up killing isn't his style. It *was* too easy...too easy for *him*," Cordelia wasn't about to make light of the problem that would probably come back to bite them all on the butt...or the neck...or anywhere else he chose. Oh, yuck...those were not good thoughts to be having at that moment- or, like, ever.

Wesley had concerns of his own, "Cordy, you just sent a psychotic, demon, killer to Sunnydale."

Cordelia folded her arms, "It was the only thing guaranteed to distract him, unless you wanted him to have Fred as an appetiser before he went?" she asked, barely noticing Fred's already pale face turn ashen at the suggestion.

"That's okay, guess I'm not entree material," the girl murmured, mostly to herself.

"Well, he would have gone there anyway! This is all because of Buffy as usual. I mean, sure, she's back from the dead and all, and I'm happy for her and yay for the world the Slayer's here, but do you see what trouble she causes?" Wesley's silent disapproval was enough to sew a small thread of guilt into Cordelia's
often absent conscience and she sighed, "Willow's probably warned her already."

***

"What's the matter, Sweetie?" Tara asked.

Willow had just gotten off the phone, they had all known that telling Angel would be difficult, but it didn't take a genius, or a witch, to figure out something was wrong, "Didn't he take it so well?"

Xander wandered in at that moment, catching the whatever's-going-on-it-isn't-good vibe from his best friend instantly. He took a deep breath, not sure he should ask, this being Sunnydale and all, oh well, "Where's the badness, Will?"

"I just told Angel.'

"Ahh," Xander smirked, "He With The Power To Depress From Afar. Go all broody on you?"

Willow stared at the phone, "He was happy."

There was a definite 'see the deeper meaning' feel to Willow's answer, but Xander carried on regardless, "May I say- duh!...Hey man, you know that girl you were all obsessive about? Yeah, well, we told you she was dead, but she's not anymore, have a nice day. What did you expect?"

Willow swallowed hard, she knew Xander, she knew how Xander felt about Angelus, she also knew that his impending freak out would in no way help, "I mean he was *really* happy."

Xander's smile faded, "He- he hasn't...he-he lost it?"

Tara looked confused, "He got mad?"

"No, his soul, he lost his soul...Angelus," Willow explained quietly.

The three looked at each other, dumbstruck, taking a few seconds to realise that the phone was ringing. Willow took a deep breath and nodded, accepting the silent nomination to answer, she spoke quickly, "Hello?...Thank-...Did he-? Are you all alright?...So he's...he's what?...No she *can't* handle it, Cordelia, she just got back from a hell dimension, she's a mess, she's- "

"Standing right here," Buffy folded her arms, as they all turned to face her, allowing her eyes to make all the necessary accusations, "Wanna pass me the phone?"

"Thanks for the heads up, Cordelia. Bye!" Willow hung up before Buffy could insist, "It's fine, it's nothing, I mean...of course it's not *nothing* 'cause you're not stupid, right? Stupid question...okay-"

"What can't I handle and what does it have to do with Cordelia?" Buffy cut in on Willow's babbling, tired and bewildered. She couldn't seem to muster any anger, hearing *that* name had immediately clouded her mind, not that it wasn't already stormy enough up there. Cordelia meant L.A. and L.A. meant Angel.

Willow realised that Buffy hadn't heard the whole conversation and took the opportunity to initiate a cover up, reminding herself that it was in Buffy's own interest and that it was totally her duty as a friend, "She had a vision, danger lurking, evil- "

"...Demon," Xander added helpfully.

"Yes, demon - of the evil kind. Evil demon...we didn't want to bother you, but she said it has a thing about slayers, might be coming to Sunnydale, so you should just stay in for a few nights."

"Just until you're s-stronger," Tara had been unwilling to lie, but decided it was for the best.

Buffy attempted a smile, "I'm fine. And in no way a mess."

Willow winced, her own words turned back on her, "I'm sorry, I just meant that you were- you've been through so much, Buffy."

"I know, so kicking some demon butt would do me good. That's what I'm here for isn't it?"

Willow tried not to look to Xander for help, that would be too obvious, "Just hold off for tonight. You should get some rest. Tara and I can do some research, Cordelia gave me a pretty good description and Giles will help when he arrives tomorrow," she urged, her fingers mentally crossed.

As it turned out, Xander didn't need any prompting, "She's right, Buff. I have to get Anya home, she crashed on the couch...it's been a crazy few days."

Tara was the only one left to add her approval to the mix, only Willow noticed her hesitate guiltily before she spoke, "I was just going to check on Dawnie, you sh-should come up too."

Buffy sighed, won by the mention of her sister, with whom there was still a whole lot of damage control to do. She bit her lip, uncertain, but willing to accept her friends' judgement, "Okay, but tomorrow, we deal."

"Tomorrow," Willow confirmed as Tara led Buffy out of the room. She pursed her lips and Xander visibly sagged in relief.

"What are we really going to do, Will?"

"It's alright...I-I'll curse him again, she'll never even know. I'll do it better this time- maybe I can make it permanent," she watched Xander frown at that, as she had known he would- she didn't care, "I have to at least try, then maybe they could-"

Willow's eyes were shining with excitement, Xander cut her off mid-pitch, he didn't want to hear it. Angel was bad for Buffy, Buffy forgot everything when he was around, and a permanent soul could mean he was around a hell of a lot more. "Do you have the stuff to do it? If he's on his way, Will, and we're not ready...it's dangerous," he warned.

Willow wasn't about to be put off, not when Xander was still issue-boy over Angel, not when he didn't understand the power she had now, "Maybe you and Anya should stay here tonight, just in case...I'll wait until it's light and get the books I need from the magic shop."

"It's your call, Will, but personally, I can live without having all my friends eaten while we set up Angel's future happiness fund."

"We'll be careful, no one's going to get hurt, okay, I won't let that happen...it's just that there might not be another chance like this- if I could have changed it back then, changed the curse- but I wouldn't have known where to start- now- now I really think I can do it, whether it's dangerous or not, the opportunity came up and I can't ignore it...maybe- maybe him losing his soul again was a good thing or I never would have had the chance." Willow had just about run out of steam, but she knew she had already won. She offered Xander a coy smile, wanting to make it a little easier to back down.

He sighed, giving her one of his best you're-insane-but-I-trust-you looks, "What do we tell Buffy?"

"Nothing!" Willow insisted, "She has enough to deal with. Giles arrives tomorrow, she'll be all distracted and-and- by the time she goes on patrol I'll have done it, Angel may even be on the way back to L.A....we just have to keep Buffy safe at home until then."

***

Buffy paced the dinning room. She was overjoyed and, to be honest, relieved to have Giles back. She might be the superhero in this particular mix, but having a real adult around made her feel more secure, more anchored. Still, she had been indoors all day and was starting to feel trapped as well- waking up in a coffin made claustrophobia pretty much a given. Not to mention the fact that everyone was obviously on edge about this demon.

There was definitely more to it than they were telling her. She couldn't help but notice the looks she was getting, it was sweet really, they were trying to protect her. What with all the uglies she had fought and the dying, you'd think they'd know she could handle it. Whatever *it* was. Must be bad. Even so, her thoughts didn't seem to be getting much past Angel at the moment. When there had been that vision before and when her mom had died, he had come running to Sunnydale. Things had obviously changed- she was dead. Then she wasn't. Must been a pain in the ass for him.

Buffy had been building up to calling call him all day, she thought it was a reasonable thing to do, you know, say hi, drop into conversation the fact that she was alive...but Willow had already done it. And apparently he needed time to adjust to the idea. Maybe that meant it wasn't important enough to bring him all the way to the Hellmouth. There was a time he would have gone to the end of the world for her, the end of any world. He could be fighting some big bad, or maybe he was angry because she hadn't told him herself or because she hadn't told him about Glory. Yeah, right. So he could come running, get killed too? Uh-huh, great plan. She had thought about it, calling to say goodbye, but- hearing his voice- she had been afraid she wouldn't have been able to do it, dive into that light and leave him behind, if he had said that he loved her, if he had made the pain stop, taken away that cold, empty feeling, would she have jumped?

She decided not to think about it, she was still going to of course, but it felt better to pretend she was in control...

Willow was right- she was a mess.

"Look, I'm not helping here, I should patrol...I could stop by Spike's crypt and see if he's got anything on this demon." Buffy nodded to herself and headed for the door.

"Buffy, you shouldn't face this unprepared," Giles warned. He followed her out of the room, leaving the others to exchange panicked glances.

"I'm a big girl, Giles, and there are plenty of things out there that I *am* prepared for, I could be busy pummelling those while you figure it out."

Giles pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to think of a good excuse- or any excuse, "Maybe we could..."

"Giles! I'm going. I'm sorry," she smiled at him, "Don't make me throw a tantrum..."

"You can't."

"Why? No, look, forget why. I can. I'm gone," she threw him an apologetic look and left, closing the door behind her.

Giles sagged, what kind of Watcher was he? Aside from that, what kind of friend was he? Defeated, he re-entered the dining room to meet the accusing eyes of the assembled research team.

Willow was the first to speak, staring at him in disbelief, "You let her go?"

"I couldn't exactly stop her. There was no way we could have kept her here for long enough...it looks like time will be even more of the essence. Have you found an alternative to the curse?"

"Nothing, and I'm all booked out," Willow sighed.

"Guess if it was that easy, we'd have one big magic bonanza and a whole town full of cuddly, repentant vampires!" Xander tried, as ever, to lift the mood and Anya grinned admiringly at him. He could get to like that.

"What if she meets him while she's out there, she won't know, m-maybe we should have told her."

"Tara's right. This was not a sound plan. It was a stupid plan. Which is in no way meant to offend you, Willow," Willow looked irritated and Anya turned to her boyfriend for approval, "You see how I told the truth and yet was considerate of the feelings of others?"

"Yes, An," Xander lied, laying a comforting hand over hers and smiling an apology at his friends.

"I could have cast the spell to keep her here, it wouldn't have done her any harm and, by the way, the plan would have worked just fine if we had the orb," she argued, glaring pointedly at Anya for about the fifth time that evening.

Anya pouted, choosing not to address Willow directly, "They don't sell well, and there's hardly any profit margin - most people only use them as paperweights."

Giles cleared his throat, a subtle flush pinking his cheeks, "Yes, well, it's on order, but we need to do something *now*. There doesn't appear to be an alternative to the original curse and Buffy is out there with no clue about the danger she's in. She's vulnerable and she's fragile..."

***

Buffy slammed a fist into her opponent's stomach. As soon as he doubled over she took a clean, low swipe, with her foot, kicking his legs out from underneath him. He hit the floor and she unleashed a final blow to his ribs before kneeling on his chest and staking him without a word.

The vampire exploded in a cloud of dust and Buffy straightened calmly, smoothing back her hair.

She turned, taking none of the usual pleasure in adding a stroke to her mental tally, and prepared to continue her patrol.

"That was no fun, Slayer. Think you went and lost your sparkle..."

Buffy started a little, annoyed at herself for allowing him to sneak up on her like that, she was the freaking Chosen One, that kind of thing just shouldn't happen. She watched as he leaned against one of the many crypts- respect for those things kinda wore thin once you'd thrown a few species of demon up against them- he lit a cigarette, and she contemplated how the tiny red glow was really just like life, only the stubbing out never quite seemed to work on her. Well, hello to morbid.

"I was coming to see you. There's a demon, apparently it has issues about Slayers."

That last kill was too easy, she wasn't even out of breath.

Spike managed to lift a brow, "Well, that's not the most specific description, Love."

"Yeah, Will said she got a good one, I thought they would have pinned it down by now." Buffy frowned, so why hadn't they?

"She saw it then? She get hurt?" Spike sounded uncomfortable and it looked as though he suddenly found the patch of grass around his feet really interesting.

"No, and- excuse me- you *care*?" Buffy covered the words with lashings of sarcasm, already starting to walk away, "Or does the idea of my friends getting hurt give you a thrill?"

Spike grabbed her arm, pulling her round to face him, Buffy was too distracted to fight him off, the weird feeling she'd been getting all evening was even stronger now, her insides clenching tightly...the taste of acid in her mouth...her throat burning...

"When are you gonna start listenin' to me, Buffy? I worked with those people all summer, I'm *not* the enemy anymore...you need me…I can help you, Pet…I bloody well love you, let me help-"

Applause.

That was the first thing they heard, then the soft rustle of leaves as he stepped out of the shadows. Spike was stunned. Buffy was stunned. But she had known. Of course it was him, that feeling, she had sensed him there, felt him nearby.

"Angel?" the name slid from her lips with a silky breath and a stray, premature tear slipped unnoticed down her cheek.

He looked straight at her and smiled. Her heart twisted in her chest.

"Should we give him an Oscar, Buffy? That was some performance," he turned to his Childe, "You think you can *love* her, Spike?"

Buffy shrugged the blonde vampire off easily and walked towards Angel, hardly trusting her eyes, her ears...or anything else that told her he was there.

As soon as she was close enough, he gathered her into his arms and locked her there tightly, lowering his head, whispering into her hair, "It's okay, it's alright, I'm here now, Buffy, it's going to be better I promise. You're alive…you're here, you're alive. Shh, it's okay."

Spike started to back away in disgust, then hesitated, stopping to eye Angel suspiciously, watching him smile and stroke Buffy's hair over and over.

"Do you think you could love her like I do, Spike? So that she's there in everything you do, in everything you see? So that you hear her name whispered when there's no one around, until you think you've gone mad? Until the blood in you veins screams for her, and you wake up in the middle of the day and want to go out in the sun and burn, just to be looking up at the same sky as her, to make the pain stop? Only it wouldn't and you don't, you see, because you know that one day, one day you might see her, just one last time. And even that's never enough, it makes you want more, and you know you can't because you love her so damn much that you'd live a thousand eternities in hell to make sure she's happy. Could you stay away, Spike? Stay away even though that's *worse* than a thousand eternities in hell, because you know you can't do that for her? The one person you'll ever love and you can't make her happy, what's the point of even existing? Can you even begin to understand that? To live every day, fighting evil, trying to honour her, even after she's gone, torn out of your life so fast you can't even follow her, you don't even get to rest then, when you're desperate and broken, you still have to work day in, day out to be worth even the shadow of her memory. You think you're worth that? You think either of us are worth anything next to her, because I can tell you, we're not..." he paused, lowering a kiss onto Buffy's forehead, "Don't presume to love her, Spike. It's an insult."

She was sobbing hard now and Spike was so furious he thought he might spontaneously combust with out the help of any sunlight. He struggled to keep the amber from his eyes, "You say *I'm* gunning for the Oscar? Look what you've done to her, one minute here and look what you've done. If you loved her so bloody much you wouldn't have left her, would you? Didn't see you when it was raining death and hellgods."

"Why didn't you save her then Spike? You were there, why did she die?" he asked, knowing it would hit a nerve, oh he knew how to play the boy.

Spike sneered, refusing to respond, "When your floaty-coat poof leaves again, I'll be here, Slayer. Remember what I said."

"You love her. Right, got it," Angelus grinned, "Never could resist my scraps could you, Spike!"

Buffy stiffened in his arms. She was cold suddenly. Her face felt tight and wet as she looked up at him, she knew there was a question in her eyes and the tears fell faster, ignored, as she drew a shaky breath.

"No..."

One whispered, desolate word as the back of Angelus' hand made contact with her face, sending her sprawling onto the ground.

He laughed, tilting his head to look at her, "Miss me, Buff?"

Gunn pointed his bag at Cordelia, the silence beginning to bug him, "Chip?"

She frowned, her eyes fixed straight ahead, "No thanks."

"How far-" he started.

"Far," she answered testily, not letting him finish.

For an evil-ass-kicking type broad she sure was jumpy about this trip, Gunn thought, jumpy and driving...driving his baby, "Uh...you want me to take over?" he asked, glancing around the interior of his truck, memorising its contours, its sweet little dials, the tear in the seat where he and Sindy Mar-...yeah, no need to go there.

"No. It's fine. I'm good." Cordelia replied, checking her side view mirror...again. She took a deep breath, determined to stay calm, just watching the road, concentrating on the driving, on trying to make Gunn's hulking great lump of a truck shift gear on command. She knew the way. She would drive. She would distract herself with the driving.

Gunn looked more than a few junctions past dubious. He cleared his throat and flashed her a pearly-white, surely-fake smile, tapping the backs of his fingers on the window, "Fine. Sure, everything's just fine-"

Cordelia's fuse was lit, and what with it being majorly short and all..."What is that supposed to mean? Huh?" she snapped, barely keeping control of the wheel as she turned to glare at him. At *him* as in not at the road, the road that they were speeding down. If she weren't so fired up she would have taken time to relish the panic on Gunn's face- he really loved his truck, huh?

"Whoa, just calm-"

She conceded a brief glance ahead of her (limo accident, bad, truck accident, plain embarrassing) before interrupting him, "I'm fine! Just fine. I'm about to revisit the scene of some of the most traumatic memories of my young life, not to mention humiliating...and said scene just happens to be situated on a *hellmouth* where all kinds of bad are lurking, and killing, and being all- all...*evil*...and whatever else they do, plus- and let's not forget our bonus material- when I get there, I might just have the pleasure of doing myself out of a job by killing the creepy demon that lives in my boss because his live-again die-again ex is too messed up to do it herself! So yes, Gunn, I'm just fine and peachy."

He looked at her and raised his eyebrows thoughtfully, she was cute when she got mad, well, cut*er*.

"Dandy," he corrected.

"What?" Cordelia's voice dropped, along with her anger, which was succeeded by some kind of half bemused irritation.

Gunn shook the snack bag and stared into it, "Fine and dandy. I heard Wes say it, but it's dandy not peachy."

His expression was deadly serious and Cordelia had to fight the urge to scream, her hands gripping the wheel so hard that her knuckles turned white. She made it all the way to four in her attempt to count to ten- hey, that was progress, "Who the hell-"

"Cordy, chill!" he sighed, trying not to antagonise her further by laughing, "I was just messin'...I absolutely get that there ain't much sunny in this dale of yours, but you're not on your own, I'm here...and we'll take care of it. Just. Cool. Down."

He sounded so confident, Cordelia, for once, didn't have the heart to stomp all over the optimism. And she was glad he came. She smiled, her features smoothing suddenly as she tried to relax, "Thank you...I'm sorry I lost it, okay? It's just, there's no way I'd be going back to Sunnydale if it wasn't for all this, I mean not *ever*, but I'm...it's good that you came."

"Hey, Angelus is my business too- and I take care of my business," he said, grinning at her and scooping the last of the potato chips into his mouth.

Cordelia took a while to reply, seeing him scrunch up the empty snack bag out of the corner of her eye, "That's...uh...good to know," she smirked, forcing back some kind of giggle- giggling was not something Cordelia Chase did- on occasion she may laugh seductively...but, anyhow, she appreciated his version of a work ethic and decided he could be respected for it.

Gunn wasn't sure he got the joke, but was pleased enough to see her smile, pleased enough to wish he didn't have to ask his next question, "You think Wesley and Fred will be-"

"They're safer there," Cordelia assured him, knowing exactly what he'd been about to say, "This is the last thing Fred needed. At least she'll be taken care of while we're gone."

Gunn nodded, trying not to flinch at the little swerve they took as Cordelia switched lanes, "I kinda got the feelin' Wes was not happy bein' left behind."

They both knew the only thing that could have kept Wesley from this fight was Fred, and Cordelia had used that knowledge perfectly. It had taken some time, even after they had finally agreed that someone had to go, time that Cordelia would rather have spent on the road, but eventually she had persuaded Wesley that Fred would be in too much danger either in Sunnydale or alone at the Hyperion. Angelus had already shown that he had a penchant for their mousy little guest and they were all aware of what happened when Angelus got a crush...

Cordelia shivered and wound up her window, even though she knew the temperature had nothing to do with it. Now that she knew him, looking into Angel's eyes and seeing a cold, depraved killer staring back could be counted in the top ten most horrific experiences of her life. And Cordelia wasn't short on icky experiences to choose from.

***

Buffy knew that she should stand up, she knew that she should fight- she was having plenty of what could be called good ideas, well, good under the circumstances anyhow. Yep, she knew what she *should* be doing, but she couldn't function and Slayer strength was pretty much reliant on the whole get off your butt and move deal.

Spike had launched himself at Angelus as soon as Buffy hit the ground and she watched like some lame victim in a horror movie as they fought, holding a hand over her face where that single blow had struck her, allowing her cool fingers to ease the sting, the sting that she knew had nothing much to do with his strength, or skill, or the fact that she hadn't expected it. She watched Spike raging, she watched Angelus laughing at him, taunting him. She couldn't seem to make out what was happening, it was all just pictures and noise, like her brain was refusing to process any of it. Great. No moving, no proper thinking. Buffy meltdown. And worse, there was acid threatening at the back of her throat...she knew she couldn't hold it down any longer...the muscles in her stomach tensed as she heaved. It took all her strength to roll over onto all fours before vomiting on the grass beneath her. It was so green...so pretty, she could almost forget where she was, what was happening, she felt kinda guilty for...and then Spike was leaning over her and the world came crowding in again, rushing back.

"Buffy? Buffy- you alright, Pet?"

He looked so strange at that angle, she almost giggled...and then he was gone, just like that.

"She's not your pet," Angelus spat, having lifted Spike by the neck and thrown him against the nearest tree. A sharp knee to the groin had delayed Spike's reaction and Angelus was taking full advantage. He snatched Spike's stake and held it to his Childe's heart, "Is she, Spike? Is she yours?" he demanded, taking Spike's face in his hand and directing it a Buffy, "Look at her! Is. She. Yours?" he repeated, something like madness meeting the rage in his eyes, "Have you tasted her Spike? Got her blood inside you? She send you to Hell and back?"

"Are you gonna stake me, *Angelus*, or are we just gonna bloody chat all night?" Spike was trying to play it cool, trying to move a little, loosen his Sire's hold. Stupid idea.

"You want me to do it, Spike, you want to leave her here with me? Look at that adorable face, she's so cute when she begs, don'cha think?" he looked round, his eyes narrowing at the empty spot where his slayer had been.

Then he realised. Too late.

She grabbed the back of his duster and pulled him away, Spike lunged forward to reclaim the stake as Buffy knocked him down with a spinning kick. The blond vampire was ready to dive in and finish off their unwelcome guest until Buffy stepped calmly into his path.

Spike just stared at her, totally incensed, "The bugger was gonna finish me off!" he roared, "And you can bet your blonde booty you're next-"

Buffy didn't even pause to think about it as she held her hand up to his face, demanding silence, "If you stake him, Spike, you'll both be getting the same train to Hell."

It was a warning and none of them doubted she meant it.

Not that it would stop Angelus from rubbing salt in the wound, "That's no empty threat, Spike, I've seen it first hand!" he laughed, pleased with his lover's unyielding loyalty.

But Buffy wasn't done, not yet, she turned to glare down at him, the only man she had ever loved, the director of her misery...he owned so many of the titles in her life. She swallowed a sigh, "Get out of here or *I'll* kill you, *Angelus*."

He let her wait a while before standing up, lingering deliberately as a grin spread across his mouth and his features contorted to reveal the demon that had been hiding behind her love's face.

Buffy folded her arms.

"Angelus now is it? What happened to *Angel*?" the vampire did a crude impression of Buffy's voice, but it didn't have the desired effect.

"You're not Angel," she answered simply, no emotion, her tone flat.

"And yet you would still make fairy dust out of Spike if he tried to stake me? Tsk. Tough break, man..." Angelus shook his head and put on a mask of concern, "Well, I'll be seeing you," he promised, waiting for the pair to shoot matching daggers at him, confused when Buffy didn't oblige. He shrugged. It would be easily fixed...with that thought, he turned and walked away.

Spike was stunned.

Again.

"You just gonna let him go?"

"It's what I do best," Buffy muttered, and started for home, brushing what seemed like half the cemetery off of her jacket.

Spike trailed behind, completely amazed by her apparent lack of concern, "He'll kill people you know! One soulless, chipless vampire, just walking around-"

Buffy sighed, she had a feeling that this would get very irritating, *very* quickly and a feeling that he wouldn't be the only one she would hear it from that night. "Thank you, Spike, I know."

"So, you're just gonna go home and forget about it? Slayer, we have a job to do-"

Yep. There it was. Her irritation limit reached already. Buffy whirled round to face her self-appointed- and still unwelcome- slaying supervisor, "No, Spike, *I* have a job to do, and right now that job involves getting home and protecting my family. Willow cursed him before, she can do it again. Angel has a purpose, people need him, and I am not going to put a stake through that thing's heart until we've at least tried something to bring him back."

Spike frowned, balling his hands up into fists, "You went to him," he whispered softly.

"What are you talking about?" Buffy demanded, resuming the walk home and picking up the pace. Her friends obviously knew about Angelus, that was why Giles had tried to stop her patrolling. Hopefully, Willow had the sense to revoke Angel's long standing invitation to their home, but it wasn't a chance she felt like taking.

She was vaguely aware that Spike had stopped following her.

He stood watching from further down the street. "Buffy!" he shouted, to hell with the echo that rattled between the quiet houses.

She ignored him and walked on.

"Buffy, if you went to him- if you went to him and you knew, then he has you already."

***

Willow sat opposite her friend, eyes downcast, scanning the floral patterns on the thick woollen throw. So not necessary, with the lack of cold and all, but comforting none the less. Especially right now.

Buffy was seated at the top of the bed, cross-legged and clutching a pillow in the absence of any real moral support. It was some time before either of them spoke. "I need to be able to trust you, Will..." she started.

"You can," Willow said quickly, her immediate reaction being defence, "I mean...I know I messed up and I'm sorry, Buffy, but it's been so hard for you and I thought-"

Willow was frustrated. She was glad Buffy had decided to have this talk privately, but if they had done things as she herself had planned, Buffy would have had no idea Angelus was ever in town and there would *be* no talk. Unless she was giving some very good, very *permanent* type news...

The pillow got a little sample of slayer strength as Buffy squeezed it tighter, "I get why you did it, I do, but I can't fight the bad guys if I don't see them, Will. I don't get to cover my eyes and pretend the world can't see me."

"I know, I'm sorry. You can trust me I promise." Willow risked a glance up from the flowers she had been tracing with her finger.

A smile tugged at Buffy's mouth, "No more secrets?" she asked.

"You're lookin' at Open Book Gal from now on," Willow promised, adding a playful salute.

Her friend laughed- sort of, "Good, and thank you- for trying to protect me."

There was more silence and the witch was tempted to go back to the eyes down tactic, maybe she could make the bed swallow her and then she could hide behind the flowery patterny things...but she found words blurting from her mouth, "Was it horrible?"

Willow grimaced. Subtle.

Buffy's eyes did that shiney thing that most people couldn't quite figure out, not even her best friend it seemed, "Well, it was in no way good. Except..."

"Except what?"

She paused, knowing her voice would come out weak and uneven, knowing it would worry Willow, that she would end up crying some more, "I wanted it to be him, Will. I wanted it so badly," the tears had already begun to escape, as predicted, and she brushed them away roughly, "I-I could feel it here," she put a hand to her stomach, "I could feel it, but I still...I still went to him, I wanted him to hold me."

"Buffy, I don't understand," Willow almost pleaded as she watched her friend's tears fall harder.

"God, Will, I knew. I knew it wasn't him. His eyes. Those things he said...I wanted it to be true and I didn't care. He could've killed me and I didn't care. If I could have pretend for long enough, if I could have gone on believing it was him and died right there in his arms..."

Willow felt her arms grow heavy, felt desperation burning in the air around her, and she pulled Buffy closer, trying to draw some of it away, trying to take some pain from the small, shaking body, "No, don't, shh..."

She looked up over Buffy's shoulder, sensing that they were being watched.

Spike stood silently in the doorway and she slid effortlessly into his thoughts...which were not nearly as gross as expected. He mostly wanted to hurt Angel- a lot- and look after Buffy himself right now.

"No," Willow didn't need to make a sound, "Leave," she ordered.

"Don't do that!" Spike protested automatically, but he didn't speak either.

Buffy's breathing hitched a little and Willow saw his frown deepen, "You shouldn't have been listening."

Spike's nostrils flared in irritation as he resisted the urge to argue out loud, "Don't you think I knew all that anyway?"

Willow took no notice of his mental tone, Buffy was *not* going to know Spike had seen this, "Did you know it was Angelus?"

"I guessed, then he gave his how-do-I-love-Buffy-let-me-count-the-ways speech and I wasn't sure. She gonna be okay?"

Spike waited anxiously for a response, he wanted to leave, didn't like the witch poking around inside his head. It was bad enough having the Initiative's little super gadget as a permanent resident.

Willow didn't bother to communicate, she just looked down at Buffy, listening to the quiet, broken sobs and allowing the sadness to creep into her own heart.

Spike had his answer.

And Buffy kept on crying. She cried for all the things she wasn't feeling. Because she wasn't afraid of what Angelus might do, because wasn't angry for the things he said, because she was empty. The confusion was gone now, when she had finally accepted that the person, the creature, holding her was Angelus, when he had given her no other choice, everything had become dark and distant. Even sitting with Willow she felt alone, detached, like none of it really mattered. She didn't even feel guilty for wanting him to kill her, to end it there, amongst the gravestones, where she belonged. So she just cried. She cried for Buffy- the girl she should be, the girl that should have been feeling all those things and she cried for them-for everyone that was relying on her to fix it one way or another. Because she didn't know that she wanted to.

Angel couldn't be with her.

Angelus refused to be without her.

***

The mansion was quiet, its master, for now, sated, the tang of fresh blood still coating his tongue. The girl had been sweet, sweet and pretty, just the way he liked his snacks. For the main course he was contemplating something with a bit more kick. He knew would have to wait, but that wasn't a problem. Angelus relished the waiting. Selecting his prey, studying it, letting it absorb him until every nerve was tense for the kill. Until only one thing could satisfy him. Her scent, her life, her submission...

His attention was snatched by a sound from the doorway, the timing had already decided the visitor's fate, unless...

He moved silently across the room and began to speak, allowing the volume to build gradually, "Well, nice to see nothing changes. It's not much but hey, it's what I call home."

The two men were pulled roughly inside, the smaller one soon finding himself on the floor.

"And I just love having guests! You should pay attention to this next part, it might be relevant later." Angelus trained cold, amber eyes on the man who was now staring up at him, mouth gaping in terror. The body he held shook violently, Angelus found it amusing and bared his fangs just to see that flash of pure fear before he snapped the scrawny neck with one quick twist. The corpse went slack and he dropped it, his smile still in place, "That just never gets old! Now, how about you get her on the phone for me."

The man fumbled around in his pockets, his hands were jolting wildly, it was almost impossible to control them. His eyes flicked up to meet his host's as he tried to dial. Angelus gave a cheerful nod and he punched the numbers harder, finally holding the phone out and cringing as the vampire snatched it.

"Lilah, you might need another lackey, I mean, sending just two? C'mon, give me a little something to work with here...I like the little one though, he's cute."

Angelus covered the phone with his hand to address the panic stricken man, who was searching frantically for a way out, "Yes, you can go now, oh and take this guy with you," he nodded towards the body that lay at a grotesque angle by his feet, "I don't appreciate the mess."

He continued the phone conversation as the man tried to drag his colleague away, slowing his escape to an agonising pace, "They're *very* obliging, I have to congratulate you...Lilah, I'm hurt, here I am in old SunnyD for a quick round of Stalk-the-Slayer, now who else is likely to have people following me? You're the secretary of my fan club. I *am* your job. This is what you've been waiting for, you need me, you're going to try and use me. It's a case of you scratch my back and...I guess I'll take a look at yours and see if it's worth a tickle before I suck all the juice out...gee you people just don't have any time this century, everything's a rush...fine," he sighed, "I'm thinking of staying in town for a while, so I'm gonna need you to pick a little something up for me from the hotel. Oh and, Lilah, find me a doctor- a good one."

PLEASURE'S MINE

"Thought I'd find you here." Calm. Angry, but calm and in *no* way scared. Not an option.

"Spike!" Angelus looked up from the torn flesh he was holding and spread his arms wide, allowing the body to fall in an ungraceful heap, "Can I get you a warm beverage?" he flicked his tongue out across each blood soaked fang in turn and watched Spike swallow hard, laughing, that insane, boyish laugh- the laugh that had plagued Spike in his thoughts, in his dreams, for over a century.

It was like nothing had changed. Angelus wore a black coat, but it wasn't his usual style and Spike assumed it belonged to one of the dead men littering the mansion floor. He could see that Angelus had fed on one of them and snapped the other's neck and he wasn't so much jealous as plain, damn hungry. It didn't matter how many demons he fought, how many pints of pre-packed blood he drank, it just never stopped- the lust for the kill. It was there, gnawing, constant. The hunter was his shadow, following him, calling to him, showing itself in brief glimpses whenever he so much as turned his head. But he couldn't, and Spike was glad, so help him he didn't want to face the temptation.

He shook his head, trying to clear the teasing images before he spoke, walking towards his Sire with a boldness he knew was about to get him in serious trouble, "I know what you're here for. I won't let you, Angelus, you'll never get to her."

Angelus folded his arms, overplaying his interest in the conversation, "So, you came to tell me what? To stay away from Buffy? This town ain't big enough for the both of us?" he sighed, "Spike, now I *know* I taught you to share, we never had this problem with Dru...oh wait-"

Spike's fist connected with Angelus' chin. There had been no choice. No going back. Things were different now, *he* was different. The younger vampire watched as Angelus steadied himself and grinned, letting the demon take full possession of his features.

Angelus gave a casual snort, "Yeah, well, maybe there were one or two issues."

Spike lashed out again, this time Angelus caught his hand and held it fast as he countered with two swift kicks to Spike's mid-section, "Move fast don't you, Spike? Buffy's blonde knight. Time was, that used to be my job..." he landed another blow, this time across Spike's back, but there was not a hint of exertion in his voice, "...Minus the peroxide, of course."

He released Spike and turned his back as he walked away, whistling one of the nursery rhymes that Drusilla used to sing to her dolls. The taunt was far from lost on Spike, hitting a place in his cold, dead heart that never imagined could still be so raw. The blonde vampire straightened, watching with a concern born of experience as Angelus toyed with the chains hanging from the mansion wall. Spike knew that his Sire had turned his back on purpose, they were right in the middle of what was supposed to be a fight to the death, or at least to the stake, it was rude for a start, not to mention insulting, but the chances of Spike getting close enough to find out what could be important enough to distract Angelus were incredibly slim. He might be blonde, Angelus could tease him about that for another whole century if he liked, but he wasn't stupid. "What's the matter, rather play with girls, *Sire*?" he tested, deliberately mocking the title.

Angelus didn't even look round as he answered, "I'd *rather* play with Buffy. I need a real challenge, Spike, something to sink my teeth into."

"She's *gonna* kill you..."

"She didn't last time," he lowered his voice to a whisper as he gave his Childe a ridiculous wink, "I think she likes me." Angelus could see Spike becoming more and more frustrated, he knew that refusing to take him seriously would make it worse, and it only served to give him more pleasure, "The memories in this place alone...she begged me to drink, did you know that? And when I did, well, our Buffy, she's quite the giver, or don't you know that yet, Spike?" he waited for Spike's fists to clench and laughed, knowing he was hitting his mark.

"You always did talk too much-"

Angelus cut him off, taking the golden opportunity Spike had offered, "Well, there's just so much catching up to do! I can't remember the last time I had Buffy in these," he rattled the chains, "Then again, why dwell on the past? I'd call myself a forward thinker. You know, it's important that I focus on the future, what I *will* do to Buffy *next* time she's in these chains. Wanna hear about it?"

Rage got the better of Spike, as they had both known it would. He lost control, crossing the room to lunge at his Sire...finding Angelus more than ready for him.

"And I was worried we'd be here all night," Angelus quipped, pulling a gun from the coat pocket and firing bullets randomly at Spike.

Spike's eyes bulged in horror as he crumpled and fell to the floor, "What the bloody hell are you doing? You can't shoot me!"

"Yeah, I thought that, but Lilah's guys here...they really do like their guns. Actually, this isn't so bad, they're quite the convenience."

Before Spike could respond, the shackles were clamped around his wrists and Angelus smiled congenially at his captive, "And you know what?" he asked, chuckling as he backed away, "Got the job done."

***

Tara tapped cautiously on the door, even though it was already open. Willow looked up and smiled at her, then Buffy did the same, her face red and stained with tears- it was a startling contrast.

The Slayer made a visible effort to collect herself, speaking softly, "Tara, this is your bedroom, you don't have to knock," she tried to give the girl some kind of reassurance, implying that they were done anyhow.

Willow looked at them both, two of the people she loved the most, her eyes shone with pride and, now that Tara had come to them, hope, "Did you find something, Sweetie?"

Tara faltered, realising that they must have assumed there was good news, sad that she had to disappoint them, "No, I'm s-sorry. I was just worried, you were gone for a while, I just wanted to see if you w-were both okay."

Buffy stood up, reaching out to touch Tara's arm as she spoke, "We're okay, I'm gonna go down and get with the research program, high-in-failure low-in-fun, I assume, just the way I like 'em."

She kept smiling even though her face hurt and she knew her joke had never even met funny. She offered Willow a simple, "Thank you," before she closed the door, hoping it would be enough.

A few moments later Tara claimed Buffy's space on the bed, "Is she really okay?"

Willow sighed, letting her strong facade slip just a little, "No, not really. It's just too much, she's not strong enough, I don't care if she's the Slayer, no one's strong enough for this."

"We'll help her," Tara moved closer, stroking Willow's hair, her voice soothing, "She has you, she's gonna be fine."

"She is." Willow sounded confident all of a sudden, determination filling her, making her sit a little straighter, making her eyes pool a little darker.

"Did you think of something?"

The red head nodded, mastering her excitement, "It's all a mess now and...and Buffy has to deal, but what if after, when it's finished, we make her forget," Willow's words came out fast, but they could still barely keep up with her thoughts, "I could do a spell, erase it all...everything- dying, the hell dimension, Angelus-"

"Willow, no!" it was almost a plea, "Think about what you're saying. You can't just take people's experiences away, everything that happens to Buffy makes her who she is. I know that you love her and you're worried for her, but she's come this far and she *will* get through this. You can't take that from her...everything she'll learn, you can't just take the bad stuff."

Willow pulled away, resenting the challenge, she walked over to the dresser and sat down, turning her back, "I know what I'm doing, Tara, I understand how it works-" Tara cowered almost imperceptibly and Willow instantly regretted her harsh tone, "She's already been here, she killed him once, I can do this for her, take away some of the pain. I brought her back, I have to help her now and I have this gift-"

"No, no you don't," Tara went to kneel next to the chair, taking one of her girlfriend's small, pale hands in her own, ignoring the little spark that lit in her stomach as she did so, this wasn't the time. "Nobody gave you anything. You had to learn, you studied. *You* are an amazing witch and you did that yourself. You're the only one who can decide how to use your power...and I know you don't need me to tell you all the rules. Magic isn't supposed to make things easier-"

"I know but-"

"There aren't any buts, there are lines we can't cross...consequences, I-I'm afraid for you, Willow, it comes back, you have to be careful."

Tara's eyes had begun to fill with tears and Willow didn't think she could handle anymore of those, not that night, "Please don't cry, Sweetie, I just hate to watch her hurting when I know I could make it stop-" Tara opened her mouth slightly as if to speak, but Willow pressed two fingers against her lips, "No, please, listen. I know you're right. You can trust me, Tara, and you don't have to worry about me. I'll be careful, and I have you to remind me when things get crazy and I want to-"

"And you want to fix it," Willow nodded and Tara smiled, a shy, half-smile, "We will. We just have to be there for her, that's more important than any spell. Why don't-"

The door flew open.

Dawn burst into the room and they both looked up at her immediately. She stopped, little pink swirls of embarrassment creeping up her cheeks, "Oh, sorry, I just..."

"It's okay, Dawnie," Willow assured her.

The teenager relaxed, remembering her news, "You are never going to believe who's here!"

***

Angelus hummed cheerfully "I like to do my own work, Spike, I thought you felt the same, but you seem to prefer hired help. Remember that do you? Remember your special visit to L.A.?" he sneered, "Should've stuck around."

Spike had managed some impressive resistance, but eventually, Angelus had been able to secure his ankles with a length of chain. He had taken quite a beating, struggling to maintain the look of utter boredom that he knew would soon infuriate his Sire, "Get to the good stuff already," he coughed.

"Not entertaining enough for you, Spike? Well that *is* a shame, because me, me? I'm having quite the party!" Angelus targeted Spike's face for his next lazy punch, the lack of effort doing nothing to diminish its force. "I'm patient you see, Spike. I know what I want and I know I'm going to get it. Understand me? This whole thing with you is a means to an end. I just. Want. Buffy."

Spike snorted, when had his Sire become such a desperate sap? Not that he could talk, but anyway, that wasn't the point, "What am I then? Bait?"

Angelus lit one of Spike's cigarettes and turned to kick him in the abdomen, before stepping back to inhale. "No, Spike. I can't believe even *you* were stupid enough to walk right in here- saved me a lot of trouble- but her? She's smarter than that," he came forward again, pressing close to Spike and blowing the smoke into his mouth, "Besides which, she doesn't care enough to come looking for you. You got that? Buffy's mine. She belongs *to me* and I'm just about sick of seeing other people handle her. I've been patient, Boy, but the next man that touches her...the next man," he laughed, "I own her. All of her."

Spike raised his eyebrows, shaking his head in disbelief, "And I thought Dru was a fruitcake-"

He felt the knife sink into his stomach, biting down on his lip as his flesh enveloped the cold metal. He was determined not to cry out. Some part of him still needed to appear strong in front of Angelus. He hated it, hated that it wasn't all about pride, that he didn't want to be a disappointment to his Sire. Still.

Angelus turned the blade, a cruel amber gleam dancing through his eyes, "I've seen parts of her you couldn't even imagine existed. You know what's at the Slayer's core?"

Spike turned away, pressing his cheek back against the hard, stone wall, he wasn't gonna let that wanker see the pain in his eyes. He'd enjoy it too much.

"You know what you'll find there, huh? *Me*," Angelus' tone grew serious, he was so close now that he could smell the Slayer on his Childe, it was enough to drive him nearer to the insanity he usually skirted and it was going to take enormous will power not to dust the boy then and there...but he could taunt him some more, oh yeah, that could be *days* of fun.

"I can twist her soul 'til it rips her in two...ever heard her scream, Spike? 'Cause you will. You're gonna help me do it," he smiled as Spike pulled against his restraints, "Love. Death. Where's the line, Spike, my boy?"

Angelus freed the knife, waiting for Spike to gulp down the pain before ramming it back in. The hostage growled and, satisfied, Angelus continued, "You can't see it, can you? You can't see the line. And you know why? Because you're standing on it," he backed away so he could fully appreciate his handy work.

"So?" Spike managed to spit defiantly.

Angelus hadn't expected the challenge, but it earned him a little swell of pride, "*So*, when it comes to it, Boy, when I tell you to- you'll cross it. You won't be able to stop yourself. We both know that. We both know what you are and so does Buffy."

Spike laughed finally, hysteria getting the better of him.

"That's right, Spike, you just enjoy the ride."

ALWAYS

Wesley glanced up from the musty volume on his desk, he squeezed his eyes shut tightly, trying to force them into focus before looking over at his research partner. Just his research partner. That was certainly all.

Fred tapped relentlessly at the laptop, her face glowing with soft blue light from the screen. She bit her lip, frowning as she tried to pour some of her own energy into the machine, willing it to share some sense of urgency.

Wesley smiled, he found it soothing to watch her, it didn't seem possible that the situation they faced was so dire when she was sat right there just...just being so...

He sighed and gave himself a stern, mental reprimand for such foolish thoughts. They were dealing with an incredibly pressing matter and he would not allow himself to be distracted.

So, they worked on silently, each finding little, but frustrating leads that led nowhere and cruel sparks of hope that withered under closer inspection, and each taking what comfort they could from the clicking of keys and rustling of paper that confirmed the other's presence.

As the evening wore on Fred began to rub her neck, desperate to ease the dull ache that had manifested there and, despite his best efforts, watching her, Wesley did find himself distracted. He thought about how brave she was being, how lucky they were to have her working on this and he thought about the panic that had churned instantly in his stomach when Angelus had touched her, when he had...

He soon applied himself to his research with fresh purpose, determined to concentrate...

Fred sighed and swung her chair round, pouting shyly, "This isn't right, I can't find anything on ebay or any of the places on this list, I don't know where else to look...there just has to be somewhere they didn't try."

Wesley gave her a look that roughly equalled a reassuring pat on the hand, "Well, I haven't come up with an alternative to the curse, perhaps I should phone for an update, Cordelia and Gunn may have arrived by now."

Fred skewed her lips to one side, walking over to Wesley's desk and perching carefully on the edge, "I don't know," she worried, "Cordelia said she didn't want anyone to know they were going-"

"I rather think finding an orb or some other way to restore Angel's soul is more important than the element of surprise," he sat back as he spoke, trying to appear less uptight, he hadn't meant to sound quite so paternal, "Who knows what Angelus could do in the time it takes for the orb to be delivered, we should be aware of their progress..."

"Of course we should. He could certainly do some damage with two days," Fred shivered, a few *moments* with Angelus had been more than enough for her, "But if you call, you could always leave out the part about Cordelia and Gunn being on their way. Just in case. I mean, she was kinda stressed about going back there. I think the plan is for them to slip in and out again without a big parade and all."

***

Willow had managed to surprise everyone, including herself, with her squeals of excitement, "I can't believe you're really here, it's just like old times...except for you, Gunn, but that's cool, we can *totally* integrate, it's- it's like a Scooby reunion!"

She looked at everyone in turn, aware of the mental step back each of them seemed to take- she decided to go for a subtle mood change- clearing her throat and adopting a more serious tone, "I mean 'cause with the danger and the badness and all...it's good to have you here, I mean, since you know Angel better than..." her voice trailed off and she shot a silent apology at Buffy, then decided that it was way past time to embrace the quiet.

There was a beat of uncomfortable silence, before every brand of hug on record was passed through the group, from the gosh-it's-so-good-to-see-you to the yikes-I-so-don't-want-to-but-I-feel-like-I-should, even the odd handshake was thrown in to complete the mix. When the greetings were over, Giles led the way into the dining room where the first meeting of the, somewhat enlarged, and more than usually dysfunctional, group convened amongst the scattered books.

Cordelia was overwhelmed, she found herself torn between staring at her ex's new love (who was having no trouble deciding who *she* was going to stare at, a fact more than a little unnerving considering her employment history); Willow, who looked almost...well almost; Willow's *girlfriend* (who had done nothing to warrant the scrutiny, other than exist) or the recently deceased Slayer, who was flipping restlessly through a ridiculously large book and very much alive, despite looking like the local misery demon just smacked her upside the head with his sad stick...

Giles wondered how Gunn was dealing with the tableaux, since, in all likelihood, he only had regurgitated biographies to go on, and most of the stories probably seemed near impossible when faced with their real life participants. The young man was clearly at a loss to understand why they weren't out looking for Angelus and he said as much to Giles, inferring that his newly evil employer would probably be competing with the body count of your average natural disaster even as they spoke- of course he used fewer words, at least fewer of what Giles would consider words. "Well...uh- Gunn, yes, it would seem that we can't curse him yet, we're missing one of the essential items necessary to cast the spell, it's going to be a couple of days before we can get one and we haven't been able to find any alternative-"

"Wesley told us, the orb, what happened to the one Willow used last time?" Cordelia interrupted, trying to appear calm as she chose a book to begin researching with.

"Ah, yes," Giles shuffled his feet discreetly, "It's in England, I didn't bring it back with me, I hadn't anticipated needing it."

"We're a little shaky on the game plan right now, but I know that if we face him there's a chance it'll be a to-the-death kind of deal, hard to fight the bad and preserve it," Buffy hadn't meant to refer to Angel in such generic terms, but those were the facts, he was *it*, the bad of the moment, if she allowed herself to think of him as anything more...

"We could use the initiative's little toy soldiers right about now, 'whip, but don't crack' was kinda their specialty..." no one was really listening to Xander, in fact, he wasn't paying much attention to the words dribbling out of his mouth either. He was too busy thinking that Cordelia seemed different and that he would be eternally grateful that he had Anya at his side when she showed up. Not so much of the second rate schlub now was he? All- all *engaged*...so what if no one knew, that wasn't the point.

"Anyway, how come you guys came?" Buffy tested, realising that there had been some kind of territory infringement thingy that she should probably be all angry about.

"We took a while to decide, Sunnydale doesn't exactly give me warm fuzzy feelings, but we figured Angelus is our responsibility. We couldn't just sit around and wait to find out if he...well, if he's coming back," Cordelia reasoned. The truth was that they had agreed to stay away and let the Slayer do her job without complicating things, but Cordelia couldn't stand not knowing what was happening, and finally she had given in to the inevitable Hellmouth visit.

Buffy was vaguely aware of something like resentment beginning to stir deep within her, these two people were a part of Angel's life, they were worried about him and they had far better reasons to be than she did these days, it was like they had more right somehow. And it hurt. Well, at least that was better than being completely numb. She decided to take charge of the situation and exert some authority. It wasn't difficult to understand why they had debated on whether to come, more people just meant more potential victims to protect. Anything they did now would have to be co-ordinated military style. It was Buffy's house and, in her eyes, that made it her army to command, "Okay, first thing, we keep up the research- there's no point just waiting for this orb thingy to arrive-"

"Wesley and Fred are working on that too," Cordelia added.

Buffy gave Cordelia a brief smile to hide her irritation and closed her book to indicate that she would be stepping off the team, "Good, many hands make...well it's faster that way. Will, you should make sure Angelus can't get in here, he knows you're the one who cursed him last time and he's gonna try stopping you, I don't want you alone, not for one second," she ordered, making a conscious effort to avoid Giles' eye, as she, and others, remembered Miss Calendar. "In fact, no one leaves this house after dark *at all*."

Cordelia and Gunn exchanged a look of strangled disbelief.

Buffy, fully expecting it, had noted their discomfort, "I know it might not be how you're used to doing things, but there's no way I'm serving any of you to him on a tray or a plate- or whatever it is dumb people get served to dangerous, killer-type things on...please guys, I don't want Angel to have to deal with that when he gets back."

Gunn was trying to keep his cool, the girl made it sound like nothing, like Angel had gone on vacation. He couldn't figure if she was seriously in denial or seriously a bitch.

"And I especially don't want you going anywhere," the Slayer turned to her younger sister, who had been sitting quietly at the table, watching the events unfold with interest.

She immediately brightened, "Me? What about school? Do I get to ditch school again?" Dawn loved it when the gang was in research mode, even if she wasn't allowed to help. It was starting to feel like Buffy had never left.

"Dawnie, y-you-"

"Yes."

Willow squeezed Tara's hand reassuringly as Buffy cut her off, trying not to be angry at her friend's thoughtlessness.

"I mean it, no one goes out there except me, just until we figure out a plan. I need to find Spike, if anything happens I want Dawn to be well protected and I have to make sure he doesn't go after Angelus by himself."

They all nodded in agreement. Buffy ticked off her instructions against the checklist in her head and decided she felt much better now that she had taken control. Yes. She was in control. She knew the situation and she was dealing.

***

Fred hit enter, giving an adorable little whoop of satisfaction, "We did it!"

Wesley leaned eagerly over her shoulder and smiled at her achievement, trying not to lift his hand to stroke her hair, settling for a little squeeze on the arm instead, "*You* did it, Fred. Well done. I'll let them know-"

"Do you think she'll be able to...?" Fred wanted to sound brave and calm like Cordelia would, but she was afraid, Angelus had scared her and she couldn't seem to keep the slight tremor from her voice.

Wesley moved round so that he could look at her as he spoke, bracing his hands on the desk in what he hoped was a particularly manly fashion, "It's not ideal, there's a substantial risk, but Willow brought Buffy back from a hell dimension and she's cursed Angel before...I believe she's capable."

Fred nodded carefully, wondering how she was going to ask her next question without having Wesley think she was a total liability, "Uh...are-are you going to take the stones or will Gunn and Cordelia come back and get them? I don't want you to feel you can't leave because of me or anything..."

She wore her concern so openly, Wesley wanted to kill Angelus himself for putting that fear into her eyes again, "I'm sure they'll send someone for them first thing, we'll have the stones by then, if Lorne upholds his promise, and Angelus is far less of a significant threat during the day so they should be safe getting here. My priority is to make sure you're not alone."

Fred placed one of her long, slim hands over his, a little surprised that he was so warm- the hotel wasn't exactly what you would call cosy- she looked directly at him as she spoke, "Thank you Wesley, really, I feel better having you with me...and being useful...I'm glad we stayed."

Wesley was taken aback by her soft words, by her sincerity. He straightened, grinning proudly, "And I'm glad we have you here. I know that...well there was some degree of misunderstanding between you and Angel before-"

She blushed deeply, "Oh please don't talk about it, I'm so embarrassed...I just- it's just that...he saved me."

"I know." Wesley kept his tone neutral, trying to understand.

Fred hesitated and stood up, "But so did you, you all did. And now we can save Angel."

She brushed a hand gently down his back, in a gesture of thanks and reassurance, their eyes locked briefly and, when Wesley moved off to make the necessary call to Sunnydale, it was with a highly inappropriate smile on his face and a somewhat ridiculous spring in his step- neither of which the newly appointed hero cared to feel guilty about.

***

He watched, enshrouded by shadows, amused as the artificial light from the house danced across the lawn, marking out the dark, elongated shapes that allowed him to observe her unseen.

He was pleased with the new arrivals, but, in truth, his eyes sought only her. He could feel her proximity crashing over him in waves, she called to him, like the moon called the tides- he had pulled away, yet he was drawn back once again. He knew that his darkness drew strength from obsession and he would have to satiate this one- whatever the cost. Because this one- this one was more powerful than any of his brief, intoxicating trysts with death. He wanted all of her, she belonged by his side where Darla had draped herself for so long.

His sire had trained him well and, through Angelus, she had ruled, but for him it had simply been a lesson, he knew that now. A lesson designed to bring him to the precipice that he now stood upon. Buffy was his opposite, the law to his sins, the pure to his evil, the light to his dark. When he turned her, she would become his match...and together they would carry the night, their black fate creeping over everything they touched...

He chuckled quietly, happy with his poetic vision of the future...hey, maybe he could pen a few prophecies, strictly as a hobby...

When she left the house, he followed her. Both of them were aware of the pretence, it was like hiding from your own shadow or the echo of your voice.

Buffy waited until they were a good distance from the house, in some deserted street- where real people probably lived and worked and lied to themselves and felt safe behind closed doors- then she faced him.

"Evening, Lover."

His voice was quiet, his lips bereft of their trademark smile. Somehow, Buffy found that even more uncomfortable, more frightening, harder to remember that he wasn't Angel.

She folded her arms, against the imagined chill, against him, "What do you want?"

He moved closer to her, his footsteps seeming harsh on such a still, quiet night, "I can't believe you need to ask? I'm gonna have to have words with that soul of mine, you know, it looks like there's been a communication problem."

Still no smile. Buffy knew there was a shred of panic preparing to invade her system, "I'm not doing this. You fight me or you just follow me, up to you..." she made the mistake of looking straight into his eyes in an attempt to seem confident.

His piercing stare caught her, held her there, immobilised. A car slowed as it reached them, they had been so perfectly still that it made them conspicuous, the driver was curious- however he explained it to himself, whatever he imagined, was probably a world away from the truth.

When the intrusive lights had vanished, the Slayer drew a weak, ragged breath, "We've done all this before, *Angelus*, and to be honest the cryptic is getting old, so, when you figure out what it is you want from me, have your people call my people and I'll see if I can oblige." She turned away, her senses automatically heightened, ready for him to attack.

He took a single step towards her, "How about forever, Buffy? Does forever work for you?"

Buffy froze, her body reacting to the statement of its own accord. He actually sounded hopeful, she knew he was trying to hurt her, but something in his voice sounded- well, it sounded...real.

Seeing the impact he was having, Angelus couldn't resist taking the game further, "I love you, I try so hard not to, but I can't stop, Buffy, you're still my girl-"

She cut off his grand declaration, keeping her back resolutely turned, her words may have been simple and not the most original, but her voice was packed with determination, "I'd rather be dead."

"Part of the deal, my beloved," he didn't allow the slightest hint of sarcasm to colour his promise.

She felt him approaching her slowly and she willed him to laugh, needing to see the demon for what it was, needing to mean what she was about to say, "I am not your beloved, I'm not *your* anything...and, if you don't want to get blown away on the next random breeze, you'll *never* use his words, or mine, again."

Angelus saw her fist careering towards him as she swung round and allowed it to collide with his cheek, his head snapping to the side. Buffy, in turn, braced herself for his response, but he reached out instead and crushed her to him, clamping her arms by her side as he kissed her...letting her mouth spread its warmth into his...relishing the way her body instinctively moulded itself to him like she was just waiting to be reclaimed.

For a moment she responded...lost briefly, and confused, his lips were cold, like she remembered, his mouth strong, demanding, she felt the world fade to black, her heart thump harder, he felt so good, so real and desperate and he tasted just like-

No. The cigarettes- the cigarettes tainted his mouth...it wasn't the same...it *wasn't* him.

Angel was gone.

She tore herself out of his grasp and unleashed another forceful punch, this time sending it hurtling up beneath his chin.

Angelus stumbled backwards then righted himself and looked back at her, allowing only the faintest hint of a lazy smile to play across his mouth. Angel's smile.

Buffy was dismayed, "Don't bother going to my house, you're not invited to the party," the words were convincingly harsh, infused with all the feeling she could dredge up.

He shrugged, "No point going if you won't be there."

"I'm going to find Spike."

Angelus clenched his teeth, staring after her, the muscles in his face tensed, his anger barely leashed. She wanted to run to Spike, "Yeah, good luck with that," he muttered with quiet contempt. She needed to be reminded that the mark she bore made her his...for the first time he found himself wondering whether Spike's feelings were totally unrequited or not. He brushed the idea aside, realising it was absurd, but she would pay for that doubt and so would Spike, first Spike.

* * *

Wesley had gathered the printouts and was preparing to explain them to Willow, arranging them in the correct order. The literature suggested that a powerful witch could actually become the vessel for the displaced soul during the spell, with the aid of a set of Kaysian stones that he could collect from a contact at Caritas first thing tomorrow. That meant that theoretically the ritual could be performed without the orb. It was dangerous, but he had a responsibility to inform them of the option so that they could weigh it against waiting until the orb had arrived. He picked up the phone and began to dial, then noticed that he was missing the sheet he had written his own comments on.

"Fred, do you have the notes?" he called out, there was no reply, he wandered out of the office and was about to start up the stairs…

"Did you call them yet?"

He turned to find Fred at the counter, "I was about to go looking for you, have you got the notes there?"

"Yes, sorry I was miles away. This is heavy stuff," she indicated the sheet of paper in her hand.

He made his way over to where she stood and leant over the partition to see which part she was reading, "I know, unfortunately we don't have a great deal of choice-"

Fred's eyes widened, "Wesley!"

Wesley spun round, but there was no time to focus, the lobby exploded with noise, screams, voices and gunfire went tearing through the hotel. Then the pain hit him and he staggered, falling to his knees. He could make out Fred's voice, heard his name cried out in anguish, then he felt a blow to the back of his head...

Darkness greeted him and the panic was silenced.

DON'T WHAT? DON'T LOVE YOU?

Cordelia sighed, L.A. or Sunnydale, it made no difference, she still seemed to find herself scanning through pages and pages of text, most of it mind numbingly dull, the highlights all totally gross, and the occasional pictures even worse. She eyed Willow's laptop enviously, that was more her deal. Gunn kept looking up from his designated book in an attempt to communicate his frustration, he was definitely not research guy- he was having an even worse time than she was. At least that was something to smile about.

"I think I might have something," Willow kept her eyes fixed on the screen, in no way ready to risk letting her discovery go astray.

Giles was at her side instantly and the others looked up from their books, only too glad to be interrupted, especially if it meant the hard work was nearly over.

"I think it can be done without the orb, I was looking for other spells to cast or other things to hold Angel's soul, but this...it says that we can use the same curse, but that the person doing the- well that's me, I guess- that I can hold the soul myself, for long enough to replace it-"

"Man, what site is that, Will? Curses for the masses dot com?" Xander was prepared for the withering looks from Willow and Giles, but Gunn's snicker was a surprise...and well appreciated, the guy obviously had an ear for finely honed, opportunist humour.

"Sweetie, that's dangerous-"

Giles nodded his agreement, "Tara's right, Willow, it's dangerous for you and for Angel. To bring a soul from the ether and infuse it into your own body, even for a moment- the risk is too great."

"But I brought Buffy back," Willow protested.

"Yes, and I've already said that was a bloody stupid, reckless thing to do." Giles ignored the astonished faces staring over at him, "I trusted you to know better, Willow, but you clearly lack the self-restraint or the foresight to deal with magic in a responsible manner, this time I'm here and I'm saying no."

The witch braced her hands on the table, either side of her laptop, struggling to keep her anger in check, "But it worked-"

"I don't think that's the point..." Tara was silenced by her girlfriend's look of utter betrayal, she let her sentence trail off and stared down at the floor.

"You too?" Willow laughed coldly, her voice rising, "Well, let's all have a say, go on tell me that I should have left her in a hell dimension! And what about Angel? You want to tell Buffy she should go stake him?"

If Willow was a little afraid of the venom that tainted her words, the others were more so.

Giles remained calm, holding his ground with care, "I really don't think we need to discuss this again, Willow, we'll keep researching and wait for the orb to arrive."

"Buffy should decide." Willow stood up and stormed across the room. She brushed past Giles on the way...a little too roughly for anyone's liking.

His authoritative voice stopped her before she could reach the door, "You will *not* tell her, do you understand me? She cannot be expected to make that kind of decision now. You may be a powerful witch, Willow, but you obviously have no respect for the forces you claim to command-"

"Sorry, I forgot, I'm just a *rank* *arrogant* *amateur*," Willow spat, tears beginning to glaze her eyes.

He softened slightly, remembering the timid little red head she had once been and, somewhere, still was, "This is not a personal attack and I have no desire to 'piss you off' as you put it earlier, but neither will I stand by and allow you to threaten me, endanger yourself and complicate things for Buffy."

Everyone was watching them, bewildered. Tara looked as though it caused her physical pain to see Willow so upset, but she clearly didn't feel it was her place to intervene.
Xander did.

"Look, I don't know what happened with you guys before, but we all went through with bringing Buffy back, Giles, and maybe it was wrong, but I for one am glad. This thing with Angel is different," he faced his best friend and usual ally, refusing to be afraid of her, "If it's too dangerous you shouldn't do it, Will, we can wait for the orb."

"Sorry, but I gotta go with Willow on this one," Gunn turned the spotlight on himself and man did it burn, "Hey, all I'm sayin' is there's one twisted vamp out there. She thinks she can get Angel back quick time? I say do your mojo, girl."

In the uproar that followed, the phone was the ultimate winner.

Cordelia jumped up first, "I'll get it, it's probably Wes," she collected the handset and pressed to answer, "Hello? Wes?"

She sounded relieved.

"My God, are you okay?"

It was short-lived.

"When? Did you see who it was?"

Gunn had come to stand behind her, he placed a steadying hand on her shoulder and she turned to look at him, her beautiful, tanned face creased with concern. This was so not good.

Her voice lowered.

"It has to be..."

* * *

Angelus took a moment to contemplate what he was about to do, allowing the pleasure to diffuse through his system, letting it tingle up and down his spine...before taking the next step.

He tossed Spike's lighter into the pool of kerosene at his feet and stepped back to watch as the fire engulfed its prey, consuming it, layer by layer.

He found a spot nearby where he could observe, unseen.

The Magic Box gradually filled with smoke and soon it was billowing up into the night sky. Angelus grinned. The witch wouldn't have so many toys to play with now.

He stayed there, mesmerized by the flames reaching out to him, licking up at the stars, by the lights of the emergency vehicles flashing out the beat of every panicked, feeble little human heart. His own, had it been working, would have fluttered as Buffy sprinted over to the fire fighters, her pretty face pale with alarm. He had hoped for this- hoped she might pass by on her hunt for Spike. If she had been suspicious and gone to the mansion looking for him, she would have been disappointed, that particular parcel had already been sent.

Angelus was well aware that Giles owned the Magic Box, that was a bonus, he just wanted to slow Willow down long enough to kill her- she posed a much more real threat than Buffy- but some added torment was always welcome and it seemed to be his lucky night. Between Lilah and the Fates, things were shaping up nicely, and fast. Faster in fact, than he had intended, and that he *was* sorry about. He loved to see Buffy's pain, he wanted to see it build before his eyes, so he could drain it from her drop by drop. He wanted to feel her submit to him, feel her body go slack as she relaxed in his arms and gave in to death.

When the time came, she would want it as badly as he did. All he needed to do was take away every reason she had left to fight.

* * *

They stared at Buffy.

And Buffy stared back at them.

Wesley was injured. The Magic Box was rapidly heading for the past tense. And Fred was missing.

And they did nothing. None of them wanted to take the another step, the road to panic was paved with small steps...

The uncomfortable silence lingered.

Gunn paced, rubbing the back of his neck every now and then, exhaling loudly.

Anya had finally stopped wailing and now sniffled quietly into Xander's plaid shirt.

Willow and Tara sat on the couch, their hands clasped together, the argument that had taken place earlier was temporarily forgotten. This wasn't the time.

Giles closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, in an attempt to quell his aching head.

Cordelia glared at Buffy, silently challenging her to give a new set of orders and somehow deal with the chaos.

Buffy just looked at them all. Did they know how badly she wanted to give up? Could they see? She had so little left to fight with, she found it hard to remember what she was fighting *for*...and she knew at the end of it all there was nothing. She felt lost. And the only way she knew was to carry on, find a way out, get more lost, mostly she didn't care.

"Do you need to be getting back?" Buffy directed the question at Cordelia, trying to disguise the hopeful note or six in her voice.

Cordelia shook her head, knowing Buffy would be disappointed. Bitch. The word popped into her head of it's own accord. She calmed herself immediately, realising she was being a little harsh, trying hard to remember this was difficult for Buffy too...that thought was quickly followed by another: what am I a freaking saint now? She attempted a smile, "Wesley's coming here in the morning. He said he'll be okay, Lorne had him patched up."

"Lorne?" Buffy was- not surprisingly- confused. And irritated. Another part of Angel's life she wasn't familiar with. Hell, she wasn't even familiar with Angel these days.

"Green dude, owns a demon karaoke bar," Gunn explained casually. He loved saying that. The look on people's faces...he, of course, had been totally cool when he first heard about it...

Buffy frowned, "A demon wha- never mind. He's coming here as well?"

Cordelia resumed her position as Person In The Know And Therefore To Be Respected And Worshipped...okay so maybe that was pushing it, "He's bringing a set of Kaysian stones, there's a spell that Willow can perform to restore Angel."

"A dangerous spell," Tara whispered solemnly. There was a pause whilst others recalled what had happened and they each considered telling Buffy.

"I really think I should go to the Magic Box, I have a responsibility..." Giles broke the silence, repeating the protest that Buffy had so hastily disregarded when she told him the news.

"That's what he wants, Giles, it was Angelus, I know it, and he was there. We stick together. Someone will be here in the morning to speak to you, for now that's it, I'm sorry." Buffy turned away, frightened that he would see how weak she was, that he would realise she didn't have the energy to stop him.

She focused her attention on Tara having caught her quiet words, "Dangerous?"

Willow didn't give anyone else the chance to respond, answering quickly, "It's fine, I'll be fine...I think...we think he may have something to do with Fred's disappearance. We can't wait for the orb," she knew she had won, she never really doubted she would.

"We need Angel back, Buffy, we have to find her," Cordelia insisted.

Buffy's head was thumping, she smoothed two cool fingers over her temples, she had never even met this girl and suddenly she was factor A in a huge, maximum fall-out guaranteed, decision.

"Fred. Okay, I get the picture, Fred gone equals bad, but you said Wesley was shot in the leg, what can that possibly have to do with Angelus?"

Cordelia sighed impatiently, "Wolfram and Hart know everything Angel does, if they've got anything to do with it, guns are the least of our problems-" she warned, knowing she was repeating herself.

"The law firm, thank you, Cordelia, but we covered this already, they're evil, Fred's not, they took her. Where does Angelus fit in and how do we even know she's alive?"

Gunn lost it, he had known it was only a matter of time, but he was hoping Cordelia would get there first...at least she knew these people. He spun round to face Angel's little blonde honey. She didn't even know Fred, she had no damn right to talk about her like some Jane Doe murder victim.

"Fred had better be alive. And your man, Angelus, he fits in 'cause he's got a *thing* for her, you seeing the big picture yet?"

"Oh," Buffy's voice was almost inaudible, the rest of her words stayed firmly lodged at the back of her throat.

Gunn was shocked by the way her face changed, by the way she suddenly wore her feelings so openly. And he felt like crap for causing it.

Buffy had forgotten where she was. No one else seemed important anymore. He's not Angel. He's not Angel. She silently repeated the phrase that had become her mantra, trying to keep all the questions at bay. Fred. Why did they call her that? Was she pretty? Angel had saved her and she had stayed with him. Why had she stayed? She remembered Riley holding her, feeling warm and loved. Being comforted when she cried, his face when she smiled, his fear when she was hurt. Could she really begrudge Angel all of that? To have the aching soothed and the raw edges softened, to feel a little less lonely, just for a while? She knew the answer should be no, but her body was screaming *yes*, as the long buried part of her that only Angel had touched, fought its way to the surface with an agonizing barrage of memories.

Do you love me?

It means you belong to somebody.

Close your eyes.

Forever.

You still my girl?

I've loved exactly one person.

I want my life to be with you.

Drink.

I'm not gonna say goodbye.

Start forgetting.

I don't like him.

How's forever? Does forever work for you?

She felt as though the life was being drained from her, drop by drop, and she wished so hard for it to be over, wanted to die again, to rest. She was tired, and wretched, and her soul cried out for release, for some way to stop the cruel cycle of hope and despair.

And a voice inside her began to speak, finally able to reach her, it asked how many times her love had suffered at their hands? Strangled in its infancy, imprisoned in the dark recesses of frozen hearts, never finding solace. She was told the things no one could know, that it lacked form, but still it weighed heavily, thick with passion never vanquished, persistent, disobedient, endless. That it was impossible to forget, threatening every moment, of every day, of every year they were apart, threatening release, threatening pain, threatening to shatter the illusion of normalcy built by time and routine. Riley had sensed it there, beneath the surface, a barrier, recoiling from his touch. She had worked so hard to subdue it, to love Riley, to open herself to him. But the cycle led to Angel. His essence had permeated her skin, the air she breathed was suffused with it, still. Always. And the voice knew.

But was it the same for him? Would Fred sense it? Did he really share Angelus' infatuation with the girl or was it just the jealousy ripping at her insides that conjured the images of her wrapped in Angel's arms, the curse and the demon that kept them apart forgotten? Was there even a trace of her in the heart that she had once claimed as her own? The voice demanded answers. Insisting that she knew them.

"He kissed me," she whispered to herself, and the voice was silenced, satisfied as Buffy clung to the memory that it knew still laced her senses with disturbing pleasure.

"What was that, Buff?" Xander questioned.

Buffy looked at him and shook her head, eyes blank.

He had been oblivious to her silence, distracted like the rest of them by Anya's very vocal grief for *her* lovely, lovely shop and all of the lovely, lovely money and her very loud lamenting that she now had *nothing*. Xander hated seeing her cry, he knew everyone thought it was a joke, but that shop meant so much to her- it was pretty much all she had apart from him. He had the perfect way to make it all better, and if the timing had anything to do with Cordelia's presence, he was never going to admit it.

He took a deep breath, hardly believing what he was about to do, "Well, I'd like to make an announcement," he cleared his throat, grateful that this whole thing was so surreal or he'd be even more nervous...

"I did this before, but now I want to do it properly, in front of all of our friends, so that you'll know that, no matter how crazy things get, you always have me."

He sank down to one knee and took her hand, "Anya, I love you, I want you to be my wife, I want us to be together always."

Anya smiled back at him, tears forgotten, "Always?" she repeated.

Buffy gasped as the breath was stolen from her lungs and the room quickly faded before her eyes. She saw Giles lunge forward, as if in slow motion, hoping he would reach her in time, feeling his steady arm lock behind her as she gave in to the pain and collapsed.

PART 2

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