More Than Words

PART 1

The song later on is Kissing You by Des'ree

THIS CAN'T EVER...

Anya pouted miserably as her fiancee carried Buffy up the stairs. He was being all careful with her and all worried and he'd probably forgotten about their wonderful, exciting, really expensive wedding already...they all had. It wasn't fair.

So, she pouted...more.

Giles followed Xander, concealing his fear, keeping his movements calm and controlled. Buffy was exhausted, that was all, he should have realized, forced her to rest...she was exhausted. That was all.

"Is she...is she gonna be okay?" Willow's voice held a slight tremor.

Cordelia studied her, realizing that Little Willow Rosenberg was right there, hiding behind all the powerful magick and that borderline-trendy haircut.

Giles was well aware of that fact already and, despite his anger at the state Buffy was in and the part that Willow had played in it, he answered her with sympathy, "She's exhausted, Willow, this was an unreasonable amount of pressure to be subjected to so soon after..."

He didn't finish the sentence, he didn't need to, they all knew what he meant, they were there, they had watched her die too. And none of them had been able to help her. *He* hadn't been able to help her. In the end, it seemed, his slayer- the warm, vivacious girl he was so privileged to think of as his own- would always be alone.

When he spoke again, his voice was quieter, more thoughtful, "She needs to rest."

He immediately turned to look at Dawn, her large, expressive eyes already blurring with tears, "She'll be fine," he lied.

He wanted to believe it, but hadn't he always known the truth? The slayer wasn't meant to live and turn into a beautiful young woman and find happiness...or any kind of peace. He had tried to convince himself over and over, ever since that first day, that she was different, stronger, faster...she wanted it more, deserved it more and if he trained her just a little harder- but who was he kidding? Buffy was tired, her eyes were dull and cold, she didn't know what to fight for anymore. Yes- she would wake from whatever had caused this sudden blackout and then...one day...she would die, just like all the others. Again.

And this time he would make sure they let her rest.

Giles nodded to Xander and they continued up the stairs to Buffy's room. Willow wanted to follow them, to help, but she hesitated, sensing Tara's eyes on her, feeling the silent plea. Her girlfriend was watching Dawn closely and Willow realized what the other witch had known instinctively- using nothing more than the power of her open heart and limitless compassion- she had known they could be of more use to Dawn, than to her sister, right now.

"Shouldn't we take her somewhere, get her checked out?" Gunn didn't understand these people. The girl just dropped like a dead beat drunk off a two legged bar stool and they thought all she needed was a nap?

"Buffy said we shouldn't leave," Tara stated simply.

Gunn was shocked. Hell, what was this Buffy, the God damned First Lady of Sunnydale? Her orders count as law or what? She was a feisty one, he could see that, but she wasn't exactly up to making decisions...or up *at all* anymore.

"I don't think-"

All remaining eyes turned on him. Talk about your tough crowd.

Cordelia laid a hand of caution on his arm, "Come on, we'll make some coffee for everyone and give Wes a call, there might be some news on Fred," she nudged her friend towards the kitchen, proud of her foray into tactfulness.

The others began to retreat towards the familiar comfort of the couch, only Tara seemed to linger, "C-congratulations, Anya. When t-this is over we can..." she began.

"Yeah, congrats," Cordelia added, calling over her shoulder.

Cursory smiles were all anyone else had to offer the bride to be, who soon found herself standing alone in the hallway, "Nobody cares! Nobody at all!" she yelled. "This was happy news, people don't go all swoony and faint over happy news. If somebody dies...or, or wears their corset too tight- *that's* when there's swooning and carrying. Not. When. I'm. Getting. *Married*!"

* * *
There was darkness, black writhing obscurity in front of her eyes, and bursts of sound, transient. Giles telling her that she would be fine, Anya's tearful words reaching up from the hall, Xander begging her to lie back and sleep.

And the voice. That same voice.

She knew she was being called and she knew she needed to answer, she knew she would. There was no choice, but she didn't want to face it, wanted desperately to cling instead to the anaesthesia that had been claiming her steadily, day by day, since chance or fate had begun to take everything away from her, one blood soaked strip at a time.

Until she had ended it.

Buffy had honestly believed that everything she had suffered was in preparation for her gift to Dawn, to the world. That was all she had left, at the end of it all, the power to save her sister, to do her final duty and be rewarded with peace.

Wrong again.

There would be more, if she opened to it, if she allowed herself to feel. It would pour into her until she was drowning again, only this time it would be thicker, pull her down, try harder to choke her. Maybe she'd even let it.

Somehow she knew, if she allowed herself to wake, the world would be waiting to greet her. Bared to it, the compassion, the emotion, the cruelty...the cold would thaw and the barriers would be torn, and she would have to do it all over again, but still...

The voice called.

And she obeyed.

The street was muted, sepia toned, the crowds moving silently, but for chilling snatches of laughter, childlike, gurgling. Color faded in and out, the crimson of her dress seeping into the pallor, blurring the lines, if there were any. Faces, features, sharpened briefly and sank back into the haze without warning. She could see them. New ones and old, the present, the dead, Angel, herself. They all walked by without a word, eyes fixed on their destination, traveling in the other direction, without thought, without exception. That way must be forward, people traveled forward didn't they? Onwards with time and life, driven or carried, it never mattered. But there was something wrong, she couldn't go with them.

That wasn't where it called her.

She knew. There were no words, only meaning, and it spoke a language her soul had never taught her, yet she understood and followed easily, without question. And the voice wondered was the child really so much weaker now, so easily lead, or had the power grown more commanding?

Bodies collided as she walked against the flow, but she continued, brushing them aside without care. Some of them were Angel, more of them herself. There were no protests, her rough impact made no difference to any passer by. They were headed somewhere else.

Her path had narrowed, it became clear, became sure- the Slayer knew where it would lead. And now Buffy knew where it would lead. She knew.

He waited for her there, in the specter of the cemetery. In their place.

Home.

His eyes were leveled at her. She approached, resigned, weary. They were there, all of them, waiting to take her; hopes, memories, emotions, fears...Angel would bore them entry with his eyes, and they would overwhelm and bruise and restore her with wealth to be lost all over again.

"I knew you'd come."

His voice was like an internal caress, stroking warmth through her body. She stood before him, silent, unmoving, hazel eyes cast downwards, denying him contact.

"You found me, my love, I was waiting," he said quietly.

Still she refused to look at him, "It wasn't me. I can't do it. I can't do any of it."

"You're wrong. You can, you know it all, Buffy, you know how to find me, but you stopped trying. You gave up. You let yourself stay lost, you picked up maps and plans when you should have closed your eyes and reached for me-"

He was angry with her, or was that the hurt? The hurt that made them shout and cry and push each other away. She wasn't sure, but she didn't understand and it seemed to frustrate him, she could see the fear glinting in his eyes, feel his muscles tense as if they were her own. They had been once...she shook the thought away, it was too dangerous a luxury to allow herself.

It was all so real, he was right there in front of her, but she couldn't let herself believe, she had nothing left to believe *with*, she was too broken to trust.

"I've been here the whole time, I never left you, Buffy, not for a second. I couldn't, I wouldn't dare-" he swore, with all the strength and nobility and sincerity of Angel. Her Angel.

"But you did!" she cried, risking a glance up at his face.

There was pain there, desperation, and Buffy knew the first ripple of life had filtered back into her heart.

"You think I'd break them all, any of them?" he insisted.

"Angel, this doesn't make any sense!" she was yelling now and she tried to turn away but he snatched her arm, cold fingers, iron tight grip...

This isn't some fairy tale.

Am I a thing worth saving, huh?

Drink.

Drink me.

Stop. She forced back the memories, their spinning and churning, forced herself to focus, concentrate on Angel's face.

His eyes glowed amber, searching her, needing something, "Buffy, there are promises that will always hold, things are always right where you leave them if you know where to look, did you forget how?"

"I don't know," she whispered, confusion tugging at her thoughts, sinking them before they were even complete.

The hand tightened, determined, fierce, "You do know. You have the answers. There are people in the way, there are things, there's you...you have to get past it."

She shook her head, tears tracing the lines of her face, what must he think of her? "I can't!"

"You just did," a softer voice now, *that* voice "Buffy, you're here."

She looked around at the graves, at the night, at stone and vapor, "Where's here?"

And finally he smiled a little, "Back at the end, so you can do it from the beginning. Same song, Beloved, new words. You have to teach yourself to listen again, search in the right places and be found."

She sobbed harder, suddenly angry at herself, realizing she seemed to be capable of little else recently. Empty tears in place of feeling.

"Don't cry," he commanded, the faint smile gone.

She flinched at the hard words.

"You have to fight, Buffy, we'll fight and sacrifice and lose each other over and over-"

No. she couldn't live that way, it was all wrong. "You made the choice, Angel, you *did* leave." She tried to pull away.

He held her there easily and she knew why. Because *there* was where she wanted to be. No amount of Slayer strength could fight that.

"I went away, I didn't leave, I can't. It's bigger than I am, bigger than both of us. It's our fight, Buffy, but we were doing it all wrong. We thought it belonged to us, that we could choose. I tried to give you something that wasn't yours to have. There *is* no normal, Buffy, not for us. I would sacrifice everything to give you that, but I can't. It's not about my sacrifices or yours, it's about the ones that we make together- for everyone else. That's what we're for, why I could find you in any time, any dimension."

He paused, brushing an imagined stain from her cheek, and she thought she might die from the need that welled up inside her as his words came at her again without the hard edges, without the necessity, "We have something so precious and we can never touch it. In the end all we can do is give it up each time we're asked and see the good that comes from it. Do you understand how important that is? Loving you, Buffy, is my gift to the world because it's all I have to sacrifice."

A gift. Yes, a gift. She understood, and the cemetery felt colder, the wind picking up, grass swaying idly, uncaring, as she spoke, "Death is my gift."

A growl escaped him, she found herself crushed against the broad comfort of his chest, "No! Buffy, death is your gift when you have nothing else to offer, and you do, you have something much stronger, something more to sacrifice, harder work, better work to do."

He pulled back, burning yellow eyes to meet moistened hazel in reflection, until both would swear the colors had mixed.

"When you tried to forget, Buffy, *that's* when you lost your gift, they thought you'd failed, but you've got another chance," she glanced down once more and he lifted her chin with one cool, practiced finger, "It can be different this time, you died and you took it with you, I know you did, you worked so hard to forget, but it was there."

"I want to remember," Buffy murmured absently, lost in browns and golds and everything they had shared in those brief years.

He trailed the backs of his fingers through the wet, salty paths that marked her cheeks, she searched his eyes for a response as he leant down, his gaze flickering, to her mouth, and up, then back again. He slid his thumb softly across her lips, finally replacing it with his own, barely brushing them at first, allowing the thrill of contact to spark between them.

The kiss was slow, deliberate, lingering. The fire kindled immediately, passion and loss brought to the surface, crying out for something deeper, needing more. It was agonizing. Exquisite. Angel pulled her closer, sliding an arm around her waist, lacing his fingers through her hair. He pushed for her mouth to open, Buffy knew that she was the one home to which he could always gain entry, he would never wait for the invitation to taste her, or to reclaim what he already owned.

They were fused, languishing in the pleasure of each other, unleashed, exalted. The kiss intensified, tongues slick and sweet, urgent, tender. Buffy clung to his arms, letting it...him...everything wash through her, allowing every feeling that had been denied or forgotten to peak and subside in turn, until she knew that Angel was the only thing stopping her from hurtling into some kind of good and yet evil, dark and light, threatening, promising abyss.

But there was something else, something grasping at her...she listened.

Voices began to whisper, lurking, hissing.

"Dear boy..."

"Shhhh...she'll hear you..."

Laughter. Torment.

"Little lamb...so clever, all that hiding and nothing to seek..."

"...One of you is red, ah yes. No, the other silly...that's right, always red."

"It's all changing. See how the colors shift...see how it all splits."

Buffy pulled back, scanning for the intruders. Instinct, training. Slayer.

Angel laughed softly and shook his head, "No, it doesn't matter, not yet."

She blinked slowly, clearing her mind, "More games?"

No answer.

She studied Angel's smile, "How can you be here?"

"I'm in your dream," he stated simply, and Buffy waited for the colors to pale a little.

She drew a line down his finely crafted nose with one finely polished nail, she was too far for the panic to reach her and the question came calmly, without fear, "Then you're not real?"

"More real," he corrected, taking her hand and placing it on his chest, "Isn't this where you are, where *you're* real?"

Buffy nodded, staring at her small, feminine fingers splayed out beneath his.

He traced a cross slowly and carefully over her heart, her flesh felt like it might burn at his touch.

"I'm here."

The words were not spoken, but she heard them as clearly as her own, "Yes, always."

She caught his fingers, bringing them to her lips, laying a reverent kiss over his claddagh ring, cold symbol of both distance and intimacy.

And he broke.

"I tried to reach you, Buffy. You fought me so hard..."

She clasped his hand.

Her sentence or his, it hardly mattered, "...so you used my memories, you sent them, you got through. It hurt."

"I'm sorry, it's never worked before, but I had to try, I could feel you slipping away..." so much to say and time was running out. He stroked her face, her hair, her shoulder...

"It was Anya," she realized.

"I know, hearing it aloud..."

"...It was too much for me," Buffy finished. She raised a hand to his face, "I've been fighting for so long, fighting outside, fighting inside."

He nodded, a specific sadness, well hidden, finally reaching his eyes, "I think I've done the same."

"You don't know?" How could he not know?

Angel answered wearily, the truth was a heavy burden, "People don't understand their soul, and there are times a soul doesn't understand, doesn't even *know* itself."

And then she offered him a smile, to ease back the lines of worry, to soothe him, "You know mine."

"But *you* don't," he replied, forcing her to lapse briefly into silence as he pressed a firm kiss to her forehead.

Then a weak chord of reality struck her, "Will you remember, Angel?"

"No, Beloved, the same way you don't remember every time I shut you out and every time you came and saved me anyway."

"Is it the same me?" she wondered, finding no surprise in this new revelation.

"It's all you, Buffy. Did you think severing us in two would keep us apart? You think you were the same when I went away? The things you did, the choices you made- would it all be the same if you'd been whole? To just part in the middle, to separate ourselves, how could it be that simple when you couldn't tell where one of us ended and the other began? There's no way to divide us into *you* and *me* anymore." He swept all of the confusion away so easily, with those words, with the cool of his touch on her skin, "You're missing shades of your self because I have them."

"How am I supposed to keep going without all the pieces?" Buffy pleaded quietly, tilting her head more so that she could see, see that he told her the truth, "Do we just stay broken?"

His face held no secrets, no empty promises, "Maybe, but you have me, you kept the part of me that's standing here right now. We have that, Buffy. We have right now."

Buffy closed her eyes as he took her hands and led her forwards. The gathering wind that lifted the hem of her dress, still failing to invade the warmth he closeted her with. Her heels sank into the dewy grass as she followed and he brought her into his arms, enclosed. Safe. He lowered light, cool kisses to her eyelids, across her cheek and finally brought his lips to her ear and whispered one last command, "Dance with me."

Her eyes opened as she leant back to see his face, her hands snaking up to his shoulders, wondering how he swayed in time so perfectly...she had thought it was in her head, the music...but that was where all of this was so what was the difference?

It played for them both, sad, lilting, understanding.

//Pride can stand
A thousand trials
The strong
Will never fall.
But watching stars
Without you.
My soul cried.\\

The motion soothed her, cradled in strong arms, staring up into Angel's eyes and seeing comfort. Her heart broke all over again to see what she had lost, what she needed so badly and would have only snatches of, because of Angelus, because of the curse, because she was supposed to want a normal life, because someday she might get old and die and leave him.

She was left only with dreams that vanished like smoke when she tried to hold on. The smallest, cruellest, most wonderful mercy. She begged every power on Earth and beyond not to take them away.

//A heaving heart
Is full of pain.
Oh, oh, the aching.
Because I,
I'm kissing you.
I'm kissing you.\\

Angel ran his hands over her bare shoulders, her pulse quickened, sharing the agony of his restraint. He swept her hair aside and bowed to graze her neck with his lips, pressing them harder against her skin with each electrifying kiss. He ran two fingers under the strap of her dress and slipped it off her shoulder, clearing his path.

"Please, Buffy...now is all we have," he murmured into the curve of her neck.

She responded, freeing the buttons of his shirt and pushing it aside to savor his pale, cold flesh beneath her palms, matching his need, straining towards him until she was afraid she would shatter. His hands found the small of her back, crushing her to him, they tangled in her hair, wiped the tears from her face. Then they were pulling her down and she was kneeling, the back of her dress open, her body trembling in deference to his. He lowered her onto the fresh, acrid soil. She panicked, craning to read the headstone behind her.

"Buffy Summers. Our friend, sister and champion. Finally at peace."

Angel's hushed tone wouldn't allow her be afraid, "Not if you trust me, Buffy, always trust me."

She yielded to the pressure of his body bearing slowly down, sinking back into the earth and letting it dissolve, easing her back to reality, to her own bed...

But the force didn't lift. She was sealed in Angel's arms, his lips becoming more insistent, her flesh vulnerable to the scrutiny of his hands and his mouth, to the scorching heat that was reborn below the surface of her skin and gathered strength from his desire, from the pleasure it had been shown once and had craved for so long.

The moment was theirs, and Buffy prayed for it to swallow them whole.

//Touch me deep
Pure and true.
Gift to me forever.
Because I,
I'm kissing you.
I'm kissing you.\\

I'LL NEVER FORGET

"You get my little package then?" he smirked, taking another deep pull of the cigarette in his hand, "Good. I was surprised to see your boys here so soon- don't worry, I didn't have seconds, gotta watch the waistline."

Angelus patted his silk clad torso, knowing that Lilah would be picturing a very vivid, very naked version at the other end of the line, and why shouldn't she...

"You must have yourself some pretty useful contacts, I *know* you've got yourself some pretty fine-"

He listened to her interruption, rolling his eyes, "You didn't seem to mind the other night, now if I didn't have myself a feisty little blonde to keep me busy, I might just be looking you up to finish that off-"

A chuckle at her cool retort.

"Play nice, Lilah, we'll have plenty of time to get nasty, baby, I promise. Now, how long before it's done?...Not good enough...Make it tomorrow, or I'll make us a fun new game where you decide which parts of you I suck dry and which parts I put through a blender."

There was a tense pause, Angelus tossed his cigarette aside and changed tact, "It's important, I need him to do a little job for me, and I need some closure," his singsong voice had returned, "I just hate to see one of my own playing for the other team, I have issues about that, a soul will do that to a guy. *And* he's had his hands on my girl. The boy needs to learn about property, think I should make the last class he takes about respect for what's mine...sniffing around, trying to get a taste of her, he's an embarrassment, panting after my Slayer like he's Casa-freakin-nova - now *there* was a real pain in the ass, the arrogant little-"

He sighed as Lilah interrupted him again. Would the woman let him speak for the love of...

"Yes, I'm done, but you could work on your telephone manner, I'm trying to share with you and that was just plain snippy." This time he cut *her* off, "Here. Tomorrow morning. Blender."

Angelus snapped the phone shut and shook his head with a throaty laugh, he was enjoying the cell phone phenomenon, they weren't so hard to figure out when you tried. His alter-got-way-too-much-exposure-ego would always be a mystery. Instant communication and so much extra time to spend on the important things in eternal life. What's not to love?

He put the phone away and clasped his hands in front of him, a wolfish grin finding his mouth.

"I'm sorry for the interruption, Precious, but don't worry, I'll make it up to you," he walked over to the wall where she was shackled, licking his lips, "As much fun as I had with Spike, I have to say that you do much more for those chains, I think I'm gonna like having you there instead."

She whimpered, her eyes wide, terrified, her hair, hanging limply over her face, soiled like her clothes, wet and stained with sweat and tears and the smell of fear.

Angelus, basked in the familiar scent. He touched a finger to her lips and brushed her hair back gently, "Shhhh, it's okay, I'm here, I'll take care of you," he whispered, his voice filled with the soft tones and his hands with the tender care of a lover, "Haven't I been good to you?"

She began to cry again, silent tears, helpless and desperate.

He kissed her forehead gently, "I know what you need, Precious, it's alright, I can save you, like you wanted, you'd like to be my special girl wouldn't you-"

"Angel, please, there must-"

"...Be some part of me that remembers, yadda, yadda, yadda."

He grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled her head back viciously, "Don't whine at me, girl, you're nothing, but a side dish, unless I say so. You think I want you? I want what's mine. I have my very own Slayer, Precious, I don't need anything else, except a good meal every now and then. You're here because I reckon Wolfram and Hart owes me some favors and you were the first thing I thought of, you looked delicious, and I placed an order. Now there might be something else you can do for me, but if you're gonna give me a headache we'll just get on with it shall we?'

"No, no, please..." her voice broke as she sobbed.

Angelus let go of her hair, smoothing it down, "Good girl. I knew we'd get along. We've been having a good time together so far, haven't we?"

"Yes," she croaked.

"See? And we should make the most of the time we have left because I don't think Buffy's going to let me keep you for very long," he leaned in closer, his voice hushed, "She's the jealous type."

* * *

Gunn knocked lightly, his arm ached, like the rest of him, from sleeping upright in a chair all night. He was regretting the decision to let Giles have the couch. All that noble crap was Angel's M.O. and it'd better not be catching.

Cordelia opened the door of what was usually Willow and Tara's bedroom, now home to herself and Dawn as well, both experiencing the joy of that wonderful innovation: the sleeping bag.

Anything was better than the original plan, which involved her sharing with the unconscious Buffy, way too creepy, or with Anya in Dawn's room, which was really kind of weird. Cordelia had insisted that the engaged couple should take the bed and she would crash in with the other girls, which was also weird. Willow plus girlfriend still wasn't calculating in her head properly, although she liked her better now...true it could be the improved wardrobe and not necessarily the fact that she was gay, but either way a girlie sleepover had not been featured in her almost friendship with Willow in high school and it was even stranger since she had been away for so long.

Then there was Dawn- Buffy's sister, whom Cordelia remembered perfectly, aka the key who didn't really exist...or something. Fake memories were not fun. She kinda wished Willow hadn't told her back when she explained about Buffy's death, monks playing with her head wasn't on her top ten thrills list. Even more weirdness to dump right on top of the ex-boyfriend-proposed-to-demon-who-came-to-town-to-punish-him-for-cheating-on-me pile.

Gunn cleared his throat, "Thought I'd see if you were up, everyone's downstairs already, well, except for the bossy chick who went all Jane Austen on us."

Cordelia eyed him suspiciously as she motioned for him to come in, "Jane Austen?"

"Hey, I read!" he shut the door and turned to find her standing, arms folded, smiling in disbelief, "Okay, so I saw the movie- the one with Kate Winslet- faintin' and carryin' were definitely key. Chick flick, but plenty of cool bodice...ahem...anyway, she's the only one not awake, Wes will be here soon."

"Yeah, I know. This is me avoiding.'' She set about packing her bag for the third time, she hadn't brought much, it was a good excuse for not being amongst the Hellmouth lackeys for longer than necessary, and she figured they'd be heading home soon if everything went as planned.

"Anyone in particular?" Gunn knew the answer, but had no other way to bring up the subject.

Cordelia frowned, "No. And before you start prodding, I have absolutely no problem with Xander marrying the freaky demon girl, we're ancient history, I don't care and I have no problem with it."

"At all," she added, "I. Don't. Care."

She paused for a moment, just so that she could glare at him before she finished, "Xander Harris is history. Consider that underlined. Twice."

Gunn shrugged casually, "Okay, assumin' I don't know that you're lyin' 'cause no one wants to feel like their ex is over them...what *is* the problem?"

Cordelia threw a carefully folded shirt down on the bed. "So I care a tiny bit, but I don't want him back! Yeuch," she smirked a little as Gunn laughed, "He's not supposed to move on, not first, well okay so I did that already, but he's not supposed to get the girl before I do. But not the girl, the guy...for me, I mean..."

She stomped a foot in frustration, "You see what happens when I'm here?"

He stepped forward so he could squeeze her arm supportively. "What I *see* is the hot, evil butt kickin', vision gettin', princess of a whole damn dimension letting a Cordelia Chase cast off, who managed to maintain just enough of what she taught him to make another girl, or demon or whatever she is now, love him, make her feel insecure."

Oh she liked that, "Really?"

Gunn nodded reassuringly, "Boy's got refurb written all over his scrawny-"

Cordelia held up a hand to stop him, "Thanks, but what's say we skip the visual?"

''Kay, but it was good. Just so y'know," he made his face go all serious, hoping to drag another smile out of her.

She sighed instead.

"I feel like I turned into a great big, unattractive lump of undateable demon slime."

"Don't be feelin' bad about that, I never met a lump of demon slime that *was* dateable. Bad people skills."

This time it worked.

She laughed.

She really did appreciate having him with her. He could tease her as much as he liked, but she knew he was the only one in this house who would be on her side when it came to it. She wasn't entirely sure what *it* was, but she knew Gunn would back her when they found out.

"See? It ain't all bad, anyhow it'll all be over soon and commando Barbie might even let us out of the house."

* * *

Buffy stirred, she looked up into her lover's eyes, relief flowing through her to find him there, holding her.

"What?" she murmured sleepily.

"You're beautiful."

A light tap sounded down the hall.

"You're not so hideous yourself," Buffy drew lazy circles on his chest, her nails scratching softly over his skin.

"It's morning," he smiled sadly.

A slight pout found her lips, "Already?"

He kissed her hair, the instinct so natural and familiar she hardly noticed, "Mm-hm, you were sleeping."

"Why didn't you wake me?" Buffy felt the knot of regret ball tightly in her stomach, so many hours wasted.

"It was important that you rest, Buffy..."

"...I can only do that when you're here." It was a simple statement of truth, "You're always in my dreams, Angel, but not like this. What if we don't-"

"Don't try to know, we just have to accept what we *can* have."

"I hate this. It feels like you're already gone," the irritating prickle behind her eyes warned her that the tears were coming. She sat up, the duvet pooling invitingly around her waist.

"I'm never gone. It wouldn't be so hard if I was." Angel moved forward and took hold of her shoulders, smoothing away the goose bumps even as they lifted to the chill.

"But I can't see you, touch you..." she looked away, angry with herself for spoiling everything with tears that belonged to the cold and the daylight.

"It wouldn't be this simple if you could, there are so many things to be said, explained, if we had time it would be wasted on that, catching up, blaming,"

She shook her head defiantly.

Angel crooked a finger under her chin and forced her to look at him, "Liar," his eyebrows were raised in a silent challenge.

"It's not like I'd want to know everything you'd been doing, or...or like you'd have to explain why you left again and I'd be mad at you-" she made no attempt to sound convincing, toying with a loose feather from her pillow so that she could avoid his eye once again.

"And I certainly wouldn't be worried about Parker or Riley or why you didn't call when you were facing a *god*." He shook his head, imitating her action earlier, "Absolutely no talking required."

She laughed at his deadpan, usually absent, humor, then did a double take, "Parker?"

No. He couldn't know. Not about that, about him. What she'd done. No it was *his* fault, Parker's. What he'd done. But Angel couldn't know.

He smiled broadly, which startled her even more.

Her mouth dropped open, "Who told-"

"You see? Wasting time. You'll wake up any minute," he caught her in a kiss that was soured by the taste of too many goodbyes.

"No, I'm not ready yet, Angel, I can't..." she began to cry again, not knowing if she was afraid to go or just desperate to stay.

"Don't cry, Sweetheart. Please, don't cry," he whispered hoarsely, pushing the tears and lose strands of hair away from her face. He stroked his thumbs across her cheeks as he kissed her, fortifying her with the strength she would need to face whatever was to come, sealing their bond once again, in the hope that it could remain protected from the world and themselves until they had done their duty or someone, somewhere, realized they had suffered enough.

Buffy closed her eyes and laid back on the bed, drawing Angel down on top of her, "I love you, Angel," she breathed, searching for his lips.

She found nothing.

Buffy sat up and gasped for air. The sunlight flooding in from the window stung her eyes. For a moment everything was still. She waited for the haze to lift, beyond it: life- and living.

A small cry escaped her, half way between a sob and a breath, as it hit. It was like arriving back in her body all over again, or at least like the rest of her had finally arrived. Her mind raced to catch up with all of the conflicting feelings she had stifled that were now free to course through her, making her feel dizzy and sick. She felt raw, like the plaster had been ripped from a fresh wound, only the wound was really, really big. Hell, she *was* the wound.

Buffy was awake, and it was painful, and she hated it, and she wanted to go back to sleep- permanently, and there was an ugly, gaping void where Angel should have been, and she was angry at him for going, and she was embarrassed about fainting, and stunned at Xander's marriage plans, and worried for Giles because of the fire, and furious at Cordelia...well, just out of habit really, and...and ready to do whatever it was she should probably be doing. She was back.

The part of her that had rejected life- refused to reconnect to the world and the obligations that she had thought herself released from- had been shown why she had to be here, why giving up and seeking peace was not an option. Wherever she had been, Heaven, The Care Bear Zone, it didn't matter. The wonder of it had been in finding the peace she had taught herself to seek. Peace instead of happiness. Dying was like chocolate ice cream, it took away the pain, made things seem simple, strangely safe, but there would be a time to seek comfort and rest, for now, she was ready to fight for as long as she had to for one mouthful of cookie dough fudge mint chip. Which reminded her, she was hungry.

* * *

Cordelia finally heard the sound she had been waiting for, the signal that this whole nightmare would soon be on the road to Over.

"I've got it!" Gunn bolted into the hallway like...something fast out of...a real small space. What? He wasn't exactly metaphor man.

"No way, I'll get it, just a peek at the outside where normal people *can* go." Cordelia reached the door a split second after Gunn swung it open, she was on tip toes trying to see over his well honed shoulder, "Wes, I'm so-"

"Who the hell are you?" Gunn asked bluntly.

Cordelia took a step back.

"Is that Wesl-" Buffy's now pointless question was left hanging as she stood at the foot of the stairs, staring at the person in the doorway and everyone else stared back at her.

It was definitely not Wesley.

SOMEONE WHO CAN TAKE YOU INTO THE LIGHT

"Special delivery for Miss Summers."

"Where do I sign, Mr Finn?" Buffy fixed her eyes on Riley as she walked towards the door.

"I hear you're looking for one of these."

His hair was cut shorter, he looked older, less innocent maybe, but his eyes- the way he looked at her- still so full of feeling and hope.

Buffy stared at the shining orb nestled in his upturned palm, "Let's step outside."

She followed him out onto the porch, closing the door in Cordelia and Gunn's baffled faces. She had to admit to feeling a hint of satisfaction at that. Hey, she was a slayer not a saint. There was the small matter of Riley's confusion as well...

"Sorry, I know there's like a tradition or something where you get invited *into* the house. I just want to know what's going on here before we have everyone else's opinions to deal with, and questions..."

Riley shifted his weight uncomfortably, not something he was known for. Steady. Solid. Those were things he was good at. He realized she had deliberately let her sentence trail off, waiting for him to speak, "Hey, it's okay, I think we should talk first too."

Buffy sat on the steps, smoothing out her skirt and pulling her loose sleeves down over her wrists as she waited for Riley to join her. "So, how d'ya know- you're like Orb Express guy now or what?"

He finally sat down, staring straight ahead for what seemed like an age, before he spoke, "I heard, Buffy. About Glory. I know what happened to you."

She tensed automatically as he placed a hand on her shoulder. He let it fall away, leaving her feeling relieved and guilty all at the same time. Familiar ground at least.

"I- They told me...after you..." he couldn't finish the words, afraid to give them meaning.

"After I died," she offered.

Riley nodded briefly, "If I had known you were in trouble...my boss knows I have...personal interests in what happens on the Hellmouth. Government eyes everywhere and all that. I was kept informed, but I *swear* I had no idea, I was tracking a demon and...and when I got back he told me that you-"

"Died," she repeated, pronouncing the word carefully, letting it resonate between them. She wasn't going to hide from it, why should anyone else have to?

"I'm so sorry I wasn't here, Buffy, for the fight and when y-your Mom-" he stammered slightly, none of this was going right.

Buffy wasn't going to say it for him again, "The orb?" she tested.

He frowned, not sure if his apology had been accepted and aware of the same scratch of irritation in his stomach that he had always felt when she closed herself off like that.

"Dawn told me," he answered reluctantly.

"Dawn?" Buffy couldn't seem to piece together full, detailed sentences, then again, maybe that was for the best.

"I called- when I heard- I left her a number in case she needed anything. When they brought you back she thought I should know. I left straight away," he rubbed at his neck, feeling like a schoolboy with a bad report.

Buffy turned her face away from him, hiding her annoyance the best way she knew how.
He realized he may have betrayed a valuable ally, "Don't blame her, Buffy, I asked her not to tell anyone. I wasn't sure how pleased you'd be to see me. I let her know that I was in town and she warned me about Angelus- said you needed one of these."

Buffy finally took the orb and began rolling it between her fingers, "Where did you get it?"

"Contacts. Look should I go?" Riley was usually more than happy to focus on the problem at hand, but he was beginning to feel like it had been a mistake to come.

Buffy was sticking to her track, "No. We did order one."

"Well, it might have taken a while to get it, my contact said they were collected- as many as could be found by-"

"Gypsies," she finished, pursing her lips thoughtfully.

"That's right. I don't think they appreciated having their justice messed with."

"Or their people killed, Miss Calendar, her uncle-"

"But you have one, you can do the spell now, right?"

They were brainstorming, feeding off each other like they used to, it felt strange, but comforting. Riley remembered being her partner, the one at her side, the one she talked to, relied on...

Buffy felt a lump forming at the back of her throat, he was here, getting in sync with her, taking on the role he used to-

Taking on Angel's role.

"Why do you want to help? You don't even like him," she challenged.

He turned, lowering his foot down a step so he could face her, "No, but I like *you* and you're the one who gets hurt the most if Angel can't be stopped, you're the one he's after-"

"*Angel* isn't after me," Buffy corrected calmly, noticing for the first time how good it was to be outside. She took a deep breath. She didn't want to waste time arguing, not with anybody.

"Fine, but you're the one that will have to kill him if he can't be saved...I owe you, Buffy, I know you're always in danger, but I never thought...I should have been here before."

Why did he keep coming back to that? She wanted to get this fixed so she could sit right where she was and wait for Dawn to come home for school some days, so she could learn how to keep the front yard looking neat like her mom would want...in fact she could already see a few weeds creeping up. There was a lot of that going on.

She knew she had to let him have his talk about the past before she'd be able to do any of that, "You weren't here. I'm not mad at you, Riley. It's good that you went. It hurt- a lot- but it was better that way. I came after you-"

"You did?" his eyes narrowed, like the idea appalled him, the idea that he hadn't realized, hadn't stayed...

Buffy twirled a strand of hair between her fingers whilst admitting what she had never thought she could, not even to herself, "I was afraid to be alone."

"That's not the best of reasons," he replied and glanced down at the step, trying not to show any disappointment.

"I know." She looked at him for a moment, finding a small half-smile, "I'm not afraid anymore."

Riley kept his head lowered and peered up at her through the long, tawny lashes she had once teased him about so affectionately. He wanted so badly to comfort her, to wrap her tiny frame in his arms, to keep her safe and, most of all, to hear her say that he was forgiven. "You're not alone either."

Her voice was quieter, but sure, "I never was."

"I'm not expecting to just walk back in and-"

She cut him off, "We should get this to Willow. He could've done some serious damage in the time we've spent sitting here alone."

He looked confused again, "It's daylight-"

"It's Angelus."

* * *

He forced his lids open and regretted it instantly, the dim light assaulting his eyes like a shower of tiny splinters. He blinked, trying to focus on his surroundings, trying to turn his throbbing head. The floor beneath him gave a new meaning to cold and, as the rest of his body would readily tell, felt hard to the point of deliberate cruelty. He tried to sit up, then realized that he had no idea which way *up* was.

A high-pitched scream slashed through his eardrums, sending a searing pain straight to his brain like a skillfully aimed, obsessively sharpened, arrow.

"Shhh, you'll wake the baby," Angelus chuckled.

"Oh, bloody, damn, freakin' hell dimensions, I'm still *here*!" Spike cursed, in spite of the drumming in his head getting louder.

He tried to remember what had happened. Five blokes with electric gizmos- Angelus seemed to expect them. He took a moment to enjoy the fact that it had required five men to take him. Five. He could pick out, in vivid detail, the deep, jagged pain that had hit him before everything went black. From there he could vaguely recall a white room fading in and out and faces rippling above him.

"What d'you do to me you rollicking great poufter?"

He heard the girl cry out again, he felt sorry for the silly bint and even more sorry for himself- she was making him hungry.

"See? Now look what you did, I'm gonna have to teach you some quieter games, Precious. How's the head Spike?"

Spike dredged up the best glare he was capable of under the circumstances, aware that looking up at his Sire, all weak and bleary-eyed, didn't put him in the best position to look menacing. He guessed that Angelus had crouched beside him because his nancy boy faced loomed closer.

"You took a little trip, Spikey my boy, but you're home now...and I planned one heck of a party."

* * *

"No! Buffy, you understand what I'm saying don't you? While the magick is active I can add to the curse, I can't change it, but I can make it so that the happiness clause gets cancelled out. We have to wait for Wesley."

"But it's dangerous?" Buffy asked the assembled group, then focused on Willow specifically, "And he has to actually be here-"

"Oh goody, let's invite the crazed demon over-" Anya received a cautionary scowl from Xander and gave up her protest...not that he wasn't thinking the exact same thing.

"Yes, I need him nearby, without the orb I'll have to guide his soul back myself and I can't do that if I don't know where he is."

"You cannot fiddle around with curses at your whim, Willow." Giles turned to stare out into the garden, exasperated.

"She wouldn't do that, w-we did find an example of a clause that could bind the...the d-demon. One clause can't work in opposition to another and, since this one is permanent, it would be dominant, but-"

Willow interrupted Tara, her eyes trained on Buffy, ensuring her words filed home, "Angel's soul would never be lost again, nothing that set his demon loose could take effect because it would defy the new clause."

"Nothing?" Buffy swallowed hard.

"Nothing within the curse could cause it and we think it would make him pretty resilient to other magick."

"You *think*?" Riley questioned, his cynical tone enough to turn a few heads.

Willow looked up from the coffee cup that she seemed to be pressure testing, her knuckles turning white, "I *know*."

"Hey, could y'make him quack like a duck whenever somebody says-"

"Xander, his is one of those times you were telling me about when humour is inappropriate." Anya's observation won her a pat on the arm from her suitably admonished fiancee.

Giles turned his attention from the window to repeat his argument once again, "It's too dangerous."

"G-Giles is right," Tara ventured.

"Shouldn't we do whatever's faster, I mean, damage control. Either way we need to make a decision. Now."

Buffy frowned in Riley's general direction. He had a point, a little daylight wouldn't stop Angelus, every second counted, but the decision certainly didn't need a *we* to make it. "Will, can you do this- without getting hurt?"

Her resolve face had become more steely, her eyes blacker, of late, this was no exception, "Yes."

"But Riley got the orb, that's what you said you wanted!"

"Dawn, go upstairs please-" Buffy ordered quietly.

"This isn't fair!" her younger sister wailed, slamming her cup down on the counter as she got to her feet.

"It's okay, Dawn, we'll straighten it out," Riley said reassuringly. He nodded to add weight to the statement and the room fell silent as she headed off to her room with a sullen flick of her silky, brown hair.

"I reckon we need to do this fast, but Wes will be here any second and if the witch can stop this happenin' again-"

"Wes *will* be here soon, all you have to do is get Angelus here too, think what it would mean to him..." Cordelia added her vote to Gunn's in support of Willow and, she believed, Angel.

"Willow's safety is more our concern-"

Great, Riley. Just mix *our concern* in with the big bowl of *we* plans you whipped up earlier, Buffy thought. She tried to ignore the hormones and grudges that scuttled around the kitchen and focus on the For and Against debate playing out in her head.

They already had the orb, but the Keysey stones, or whatever they were called, would arrive soon too. They could start right now with the curse if they used the orb. Would she even be able to lure Angelus to the house in order for Willow to do her new thingy as well? What risk would she be taking with her friends' lives bringing the demon right to them, inviting him in? How could she deny Angel this opportunity? To actually add their own magick and wipe out the major bad that they ironically called *the happiness clause*, it was mind blowing...what it could mean for them.

"Do you have everything you need here?" she was so close to deciding.

"Except the stones," Willow confirmed, her eyes taking on an even darker sheen in anticipation of the magick she would soon be calling.

"Giles?" a barely hidden plea tainted the Slayer's voice. He was her guide, this would be so much easier if-

"I can't agree to it, Buffy, I'm sorry. The Romany magicks are extremely powerful. To meddle with them and expect to come out unscathed is incredibly foolish."

"And they seem to be keeping tabs on the situation-" Riley added.

Giles nodded thoughtfully, "Yes, and there lies more danger. Do you know what it must have taken for them to remove the orbs-"

"Should've smelt the rancid fishiness when we couldn't get one on ebay," Xander mumbled.

Anya grinned and set her shoulders back proudly, "Our supplier could get us one, couldn't he, Giles."

"Well, I-uh..."

The silence drifted on.

Eventually, Willow locked her eyes with Giles', her voice carried a quiet note of triumph, "There was no orb being delivered- you just didn't want me using the stones."

"I was hoping we would find an alternative before anyone had to undertake such a dangerous-"

"You were playing for time?!" Buffy yelled furiously, "Giles, you of all people know the damage Angelus could do while we waited around...what were you planning to say when it never came?" she watched him flinch as her words hit home.

"Our friend's life is on the line here- who knows where Wolfram and Hart have taken her or if they've-" Cordelia couldn't bring herself to suggest that they had killed Fred or worse that it could all be Angelus' doing. If he had her...

Gunn stepped in front of her and took over their side of the argument, "I'm takin' a lot on faith here. Cordy says you know where it's at, you're the chosen one an' all. I stayed in the house, even during the *day* for crissakes. I'm avoidin' the fight 'cause you say so, not out looking for my friend who, for all we know, could be with Angelus right now-"

"Don't you think I know that? He wants us out there, panicking, separated. He would *love* for us to go looking for her and we'd only end up with more people dead- I'm sorry guys, but if he has her-"

Cordelia had no intention of letting Buffy voice the fear that she hadn't even allowed herself to, "So let's stop talking and get Angel back, *he'll* find Fred."

"What's it to be? Orb or stones?" Xander made them all face the plain, hard question.

The witch spoke again, her confidence growing as Giles' authority waned, "It's my decision."

Buffy's brow creased with concern, "I can't risk losing you, Will."

Willow moved to stand directly in front of her friend, "You risk losing all of us every time this happens to Angel. You risk losing Angel."

"Whatever you choose, I'm right behind you, Buffy, we'll handle the consequences," Riley assured her.

Gunn looked over at the new arrival, Xander had referred to him earlier as Soldier Dude. He could think of a couple other names, "When this is done *Angel* will be here to help her deal with the consequences."

He had seen the decision tearing at Buffy's insides, it showed in her face, all the lines were too tight and her jaw little jaw was set so hard. It amazed him that such a tiny woman could carry so much power- and such a burden- and he had finally understood why his friend loved her. He could imagine how Angel wanted to protect his girl from all the evil nasties queuing to get a piece of her, how frustrating it must be that he couldn't, that there would always be someone, or some*thing* on her back. He got a weird urge to protect Angel's territory, like he owed some kind of loyalty to the little blonde. Man, he could see how she ruled round here.

Riley and Gunn scowled at each other. Xander thought they probably had a lot in common. Cordelia smiled, proud of Gunn's stand for Angel. Everybody else dismissed the exchange.

The doorbell rang.

"Got it," Xander raised his hand to nominate himself and slipped out of the room.

"Wesley's here now. The stones," Willow squeezed her friend's hand surprised to find that she was trembling.

"You're asking me to choose-"

"No. I'm not. I won't do it, Buffy. If you don't want to do it my way, Tara, Anya and Giles can do the curse and we all go right back to where we started. You need three to use the orb and I won't do magick with people who don't trust me."

Buffy looked at Willow for a moment, struggling to understand how she could have changed so much, so fast.

Before she could reply, Xander reappeared, his hands wedged casually in his pockets, "Fire department."

"Oh!" Anya yelped and headed for the door, latching on to Giles as she went past, "We have to see about insurance, compensation, getting cash to help us in our grief..."

Willow dipped a little to steal Buffy's steady gaze from its new friendship with the floor, she reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind her friend's ear, "I want to do this. Nothing will go wrong, I promise."

I'LL NEVER LEAVE

He winced, dragging himself to his knees. What with the torture, the unconsciousness, the torture, whatever the hell had happened in between and, of course- the torture, Spike felt like a half eaten dog toy, and we're talking one *big* dog...huge claws, pointy teeth, clearly rabid...he didn't know which was worse, getting all chewed up or being spat back out. Angelus hadn't even bothered with restraints, which was, frankly, a bloody insult. Oh, how he missed Glory. A bloke got far more respect from your insane hellgod types.

He staggered slightly, having finally struggled to his feet, trying hard to adjust to the new found vertical perspective. He needn't have bothered.

"Whoa! Down, boy!" Angelus strolled past and slammed an elbow into Spike's face, "You really should rest."

Spike was sent sprawling back towards the floor before the cheerful recommendation had even registered in his pain-fogged mind, he sucked in a pointless mouthful of air and forced his head up a little...oh no, no way, he wasn't the same innocent young killer that Angelus could just push around..."I'm gonna-"

Angelus rammed his boot into the vampire's stomach, "Spike, now, you know it's rude to interrupt." He shoved the Childe onto his back, one foot resting heavily on the familiar, pale, bruised chest, amused at how sluggish Spike's reactions were...ah, it was so good to be home..."I'm going to tell you a story-"

Spike swallowed, trying to ignore the sharp, coppery taste that had filled his mouth, mimicking his last meal with cruel authenticity. He was so. Damn. Hungry. And just pissed off enough to break into his Sire's Jackanory time, "Excuse me for being bored already-"

Angelus increased the crushing pressure on Spike's chest, cutting off his sarcastic remark right before its highlight. Spike grunted in pain, just once, and quickly returned to silence. It had been worth a try, bravado was his last defense here...

Angelus started over, "Once upon a time, there was a pretty, blonde vampire- that's you, for the sake of the story I'm gonna skip that fact that you're a bottle blonde-"

He looked like he expected some kind of reaction. Spike knew better. The sick irony was that his sire had trained him pretty well when all was said and done...

"This pretty, blonde vampire made friends with a pretty, blonde slayer. They got rid of lots of nasty bad guys and got to be really close pals...can you see where I'm going with this?"

Again with the pause. The *pretty*, blonde vampire remained silent, deciding to play by the rules...for now.

Angelus, however, decided that was no fun. He lifted his foot and brought it crashing back down without a flicker of warning.

Spike retched as a few more ribs cracked. He should have known. Bastard.

"That was a rhetorical question, in case you were thinking of answering," Angelus smiled at his own untimely warning. "Now, these cute little blondes were such good friends they regularly visited each others homes to exchange pleasantries-"

"And bodily fluids-" Spike managed to choke out, accompanying the words with an ugly grin. Pay back time. He was *not* gonna be intimidated just because Old Nancy Soul had lost his...well...his soul. Only the tiniest- okay, so maybe not tiny, but give a bloke a break, everyone has an ego- anyway, the tiniest prick of fear told him he was going to regret that little boast.

Angelus looked thoughtful for a moment, he stroked his chin to add to the drama, "Is that so? I see."

In a split second he had grabbed Spike by the hair was dragging him outside into the courtyard. He managed to hum a jaunty tune over all the boring, angry protests that his Childe spewed...he was sure Spike had never been such a wriggler.

Spike suddenly found himself pinned at the edge of the shade, as Angelus threw him down on his back and dropped immediately to wedge a brutal knee under his chin. His head was exposed to the burning sun light, thrashing desperately to stop the scalding...oh Christ, he could feel it blistering under the surface already...he had to move, he could hear the sizzling...holy crap...

Angelus enjoyed Spike's panic for a moment before reaching out and clamping a hand over his face, holding him still as the scorching rays tore at them both, "Are you lying to me, boy?"

Spike felt his flesh start to crack, the smoke and the smell...there was no way he was going out that like that, not just to get one over on his poxy Sire.

"I lied! I bloody lied!" he yelled.

Angelus shrugged, pulling his fast melting hand away and letting Spike up, "Hm. Thought so," he mused, totally calm.

"You're a raving nutter! You know that? You've bloody fallen off what was left of your rocker!" Spike shouted, lurching as he stood up, "What d'you do to me? Huh? What d'you have you little friends do while I was out? Had to knock me unconscious to best me, you wanker."

Spike was raving. He couldn't seem to think straight, there was something he should know, something obvious, right there in his head, but he couldn't access it, everything was still too messed up. He felt drunk. Damn, he needed a drink.

Angelus laughed.

It was just too much.

"You're a *whacko*! Completely. Bloody. Insane! You got a soul, a Slayer who just wants to jump your bones and you *leave*! Then you start feeling all fangy again and she can finally dust your sorry behind, all guilt free, like, and- and you come *back*!" Spike threw his hands in the air, half tempted to laugh himself.

"You'd like that wouldn't you, like to think she could just stake me. Poof! And I'm gone! Not a second thought. Hell, you'd like to think she could stake me *at all*!" Angelus moved closer, began to circling Spike, enjoying the impact of the words, "She's got me in her system, doesn't matter if I'm here, in L.A., or in tiny, dusty pieces with my own Faberge urn and a spot on the mantle. I'll never be gone."

There was silence again, the tension just how he liked it. Palpable...

"She still wants me...doesn't that just make you sick? She wants to curse me, wants her *Angel* back..." Angelus executed a gleeful twirl, then pointed at Spike, "Not gonna happen. Know why? You're going to get the witch for me."

Spike blinked, confused some more, "Wha-?"

"Red head, sweet looking, fan of herbal cocktails and busty blondes- so I hear. You'll get her for me. Shame, she'd be a really hot vampire...I'll leave that up to you-"

This was nuts, Angelus was nuts, more nuts than Spike remembered, "I'm not gonna get *anyone* for you. Did I mention you're a maniac? And that's not a compliment. I meant it in the psychotic sense not the bad-ass, evil-dead sense. If you kill her someone else will do the curse-"

"I'll kill them all. If they had the supplies they'd have done it by now and I know they won't be hitting the store anytime soon," Angelus laughed helplessly, clutching his side for extra effect.

Spike took a conscious step back. The lack of anything that remotely resembled sense coming from his sire was not totally new, a little jarring, but he *did* know better than to show it. He plastered some old school indifference over his battered face and then turned his back. "Whatever."

"You could just go in for me, bring her out, we could pick them off one by one. Haven't you dreamed of doing that, Spike? I could kill them all for you...any way you want..."

Angelus smiled at Spike's discomfort, realizing he needed a different approach. He dropped his tone to a throaty growl, "You'll never have her, Spike, you're not like them, you're not like me- you're not really anything- you're not enough man to love her and not enough vampire to hate her, Slayer likes it both ways."

Spike felt Angelus' voice tingling up his spine, felt the words crawling under his skin even as he tried to thrust them out of his mind. Of course. That's what Angelus wanted him to think. It wasn't true. It wasn't.

"Yeah? Don't think I'll be takin' tips from *you* about what Buffy needs, if I remember rightly, you never did anythin', but make the girl miserable, with or without your bloody soul," Spike tried to march off towards the sewer exit as he spoke, but it turned out he was more capable of stumbling. It had been one great, big, freakshow of an embarrassing day...or night? Or two? Oh hell.

Angelus let him go, watching with a sadistic smile. Spike would soon be found when he was needed. Buffy had lost her strongest ally and neither of them had a clue. He would have to toy with Spike some more before he was through, it was just too much fun. He had to admit he was a lucky son of a whore- kind of literally- he never thought they'd give him enough time to stop them restoring his soul. Coming to Sunnydale wasn't exactly ingenious on that score, but he couldn't fight the need to be near Buffy. To have her. There was a craving that gnawed at him, demanding that he take her- or die trying. Again.

It looked like he was due a payout from whoever was running this show because things were running perfectly. He already had one free pass to the little house on the Hellmouth and if Spike didn't come around, he'd use it.

* * *

Wesley sat on the couch, trying to exchange some crucial information with Willow, whilst Cordelia fluttered around him like a mother hen. "Cordy, I'm fine, a bump on the head and a bullet in the leg never killed anyone...let's not make Fred the first by wasting time."

"We'll find her." Cordelia raised her eyebrows and used her best actressy diction to press the point. Then she plumped another cushion.

Willow wondered when Cordelia Chase, Queen of the Bitchettes, had embraced sainthood. *That* was a shudder for another day, right now Wesley was starting to worry her with his whole doom galore guilt trip...

"We shouldn't have needed to, this shouldn't have happened," he lowered his voice, "We were stupid to think I could protect her-"

Cordelia sighed, "Wes, we couldn't have known..."

"That Wolfram and Hart would get involved? Because they've never shown the tendency to partake of a little communal evil-"

Gunn finally spoke up, from his position across the room, "Wes, man, this ain't helpin' Fred."

"He's right," Buffy appeared in the hallway, balking slightly at the angry stares that seemed to greet her. Intruding on L.A. business. Oops. Cliquey much?

She fell silent.

"I think we should face the facts-" Wesley attempted to regain some control over the conversation.

Cordelia cut him off, locating her well-used, well-dreaded assertive face, "It was a mistake, we were trying to do what was best."

"And you think this is what's *best*?" Wesley countered, trying not to build the whole thing into a confrontation, noticing Buffy had been joined in the archway by Mr. Giles and a younger man he didn't recognize. They had obviously drawn enough attention already and he wasn't prepared to squabble over this like some sullen schoolboy, "Cordelia, we appear to be stuck here, with no information on Fred's whereabouts or her welfare, having been of no use at all to Buffy-"

Cordelia scowled, having no such reservation about arguing with an audience, "I *get* that you're worried, but-"

"We're gonna go, let y'all get into the deep mojo talk." Gunn took Cordy by the arm and guided her firmly out of the room. "Let's eat," he suggested, ignoring her protests. He liked 'em fiery, but now was *not* the time.

Willow smiled as they left, thinking Cordelia hadn't changed *that* much after all and she certainly was glad that Gunn was around these days to stick a full stop in there now and then. She sat down next to Wesley and waited as Buffy came to stand in front of him, dwarfed on either flank by her watcher and her ex-boyfriend. It sure was getting crowed Chez Summers.

Wesley resumed their earlier debate, "I have to agree with Mr. Giles, Willow, the method you are proposing to use was really only necessary when there no alternative presented itself- and the additional clause will only further complicate-"

"I can do it," Willow insisted for what she hoped would be the last time, "We already decided. And- and the clause has been used before-"

"Not in these circumstances and not with this specific curse, I'm sure," Giles interjected, pointing out that particular flaw in the plan for approximately the fifth time that day.

Buffy turned to him, "Giles, Willow has asked us to trust her. I don't want her in danger any more than you do, but we can't afford to have this argument again- we've lost enough time..."

Her fists were balled tightly at her sides, thumbs rubbing nervously over her small knuckles, making her discomfort obvious. Giles knew she was reluctant to challenge him, but the fact that she had done so regardless...

"Because of me, you lost time because of me." He sighed, resigned to the fact that he had made no progress whatsoever.

Buffy's eyes flickered briefly, then she drew on some hidden source, like always, something more than slayer strength, and pushed them all forwards, "This isn't the time for blame. I want this done. How can we help, Will?"

Riley spoke up, sounding relieved, as though he understood his role for the first time, "Anything at all we can do, Willow."

"I'm going to prepare everything upstairs in my room, I need to do it alone, so if you could keep everyone downstairs once I begin- I know Tara will be worried-"

"We'll *all* be worried," Buffy looked at each of the men in turn as they nodded their agreement.

Willow smiled, trying not to take offence, she could do this, they shouldn't be making such a fuss..."I know, but take care of her for me...I want to know she's okay."

"Of course," Wesley promised on behalf of all of them, then realized he wasn't exactly capable...

"There's going to be some powerful stuff going on up there so, whatever happens, keep everyone away." Willow was suddenly very cool and business-like, "All you need to do, Buffy, is get him here. I'll be waiting and once he's in the house I shouldn't need very long. It's the preparation that's going to take time- I'd better get started."

"I'll help you," Giles offered.

Buffy wasn't surprised, she knew that whatever the outcome, she could count on his support, "Thank you," she whispered, touching her Watcher's sleeve lightly.

"I'd like to offer my services as well, I could take a look at the clause you discovered, Willow, just to ease Mr. Giles' concern..."

"Sure...I-I'll just get the book." Willow gritted her teeth and disappeared into the hall.

Buffy breathed a cliched, but well deserved sigh of relief, "Now, I have the fun part. Angelus."

"I'll help," Riley stated, making it clear that his was *not* an offer she could take or leave.

"I'm not sure that's such a good idea-"

He looked hurt, as Buffy could have predicted, and she quickly added, "I'm not sure what the plan is, I guess look for him to start with, but he's never far away-"

She didn't have time to finish scrambling out of doing her search with Riley in tow, before Willow was back, handing Wesley a dusty, cloth bound book.

"There you go, inspect away," she turned from him immediately and addressed Giles, using the same no-nonsense voice she had adopted a little earlier, "We should head upstairs and get started. Buffy, you'll need to give us a few hours. Wait until nightfall maybe?"

"Best time to find a vampire," Riley pointed out helpfully.

Buffy pulled her lips into what she hoped was one of those rueful smiles, an exclamation poised on the very tip of her tongue...but she resisted and patted his arm instead.

"We'll leave you to it then, Wesley," Willow said as she herded everyone out of the room.

Giles made for the stairs, Buffy and Riley were kitchen bound. Before they parted, Buffy caught Willow's eye, "I know you'll be careful, Will, I'm not even going to say it. But I have to say thank you. You know how important this will be to Angel."

She didn't need to tell Willow that he wasn't the only one.

"We should stop by Willy's place," Riley cut in on the moment, not entirely by accident, "You know, to see if we can find out where he's holed up," he suggested casually.

His mouth was just a little too taut to be believable. Riley wasn't skilled when it came to masking irritation. Buffy never made disguises of any kind easy.

"Oh, there's something else Wesley should see," Willow made an about turn and headed back into the living room, "I'll be up in a sec, Giles," she yelled, and then, "Good luck you two."

Buffy smiled as the plans took shape at last, "Take a ditto on that one."

Willow smiled at her friend and the first pang of guilt made a brief cameo in her mind, Buffy really did trust her. She was suddenly glad that Tara was upstairs with Dawn, if anyone was going to see through the lie, it was her girlfriend, she was lucky to have gotten it past her in the first place. No one else had even thought to question it- and they would never have to. Everything was going to turn out perfectly. No one would ever have to know.

* * *

Buffy charged on, arms folded against the imaginary cold. She was thoroughly aware of Riley's presence at her side, both relieved and disappointed that she didn't have to worry about him keeping up. It seemed so strange, having him around, knowing things had changed, still feeling uncomfortable with the familiarity. Then, of course, there were all the questions about why he had bothered to come, how long he would stay, what he wanted from her...

She had been so content with him, he had helped her block out all of the things she didn't want to face, but he had gone. She had been forced to open her eyes and look around at who and where she was, how could she even consider hiding again? Especially now, Angel could be...all the things he said...no, that was a dream...that's where the barrier was. She would not allow her thoughts to wander past that point, there were enough devotees to the fall of the Slayer out there, she didn't need to set herself up for it. This wasn't about making a choice between Riley and Angel, it never had been, and now, neither of them were hers to choose.

"So...guess the recon was kind of a waste of time, you didn't really need Willy to tell you he'd be at the mansion, did you?" Riley made his best attempt to engage her in some kind of conversation.

"Not really. I guess he's the homely type. Bet some poor demon got their ass kicked when he got back...I mean, I can't imagine it was empty. I probably should have checked it out once in a while, great place for a nest and all that, but it was- well..." Buffy forced a smile, trying to focus in on the rippling sensation building in her stomach.

Riley made a face that was somewhere in the vast ground between compassion and exasperation, "Yeah. I know."

"Look, you don't have to do this. I don't want anyone else to get hurt..." She had to earn points for caring, right?

"I can handle myself," Riley snapped.

No points for Buffy. She tried a new tactic, "I just don't want you to feel you have to get mixed up in all this-"

Riley stood firm, as always, "You're in it. So am I."

"And I make three." Spike stepped out from behind a tree- he was a creature of habit, after all.

"Spike, you better have a damn good reason for being here, because when you can be useful you're sure as hell nowhere to be found! And *what* happened to your face?" Buffy demanded, quite glad of the distraction and all too aware that it hadn't calmed her senses at all. Thay weren't a-reelin over Spike then...

"Angelus. And Angelus," he answered simply, "And speakin' of notable absences, which rock did *he* crawl out from under?"

Riley looked as though he was about to speak, Buffy silenced him with a wave of her hand. "Angelus did that to you? You went looking for him."

"That I did, love. Saw what he did to you," Spike smiled proudly.

Riley laughed. Hard.

"Didn't see you around to play the hero, mate! Seems to me I'm the only one's stuck by the Slayer- don't go in for poncing off, all noble like, when she needs me most-"

That was enough to set the soldier's temper flaring, "Why don't you-"

"Hey! Can we focus here? Just a little?" Buffy yelled trying to locate the source of the growing ache in what felt like all of her organs, "It's like being in kindergarten!"

Spike eyed her seriously, "You're the best crayon, pet."

"Argh!" Buffy rolled her eyes, this was not helping, "Where can I find him?"

"Oh, I'm right here, Lover." Angelus appeared from the ample shadows in true villain style- Sunnydale was great for that..."I was just enjoying the show, but you knew that. Trying to make me jealous?"

Spike threw up his hands in what was fast becoming a trademark gesture, "Oh, great! You bloody following me now?"

"What is it with vampires and skulking behind trees?" Riley spat.

Angelus just grinned, "Ooh, he insulted my lurking abilities, Buff, some feisty pup y'got there! And when did you-"

Riley lunged towards Angelus, only to be yanked back by Buffy, who had caught hold of his sleeve and didn't mind giving him a sharp jolt one little bit, "Don't let him bait you."

"Little pup still bites I see! I whipped you with a soul, boy, just try me now...make a poor vamp happy!" The challenge was followed by the first of many chuckles.

"Now there's a fight I'd lay some cash on..." Spike promised before noticing Buffy's disapproving scowl, ''Cept I don't do that sorta thing anymore, I've changed, I 'ave." He cleared his throat, and shuffled a little to complete the pathetic performance.

"He has you know. Really," Angelus smirked. He managed to catch Buffy's eye, holding her steady gaze.

"This has nothing to *do* with you-" Spike ranted.

Riley ignored him, "Buffy, let's finish it."

Angelus' eyes never left the Slayer, "You heard the boy, shall we finish it? Think he knows how it ends?"

Buffy just stared at him, offering no answer. Riley and Spike watched from either side, their confusion and irritation at being excluded was obvious, not necessarily equal.

"You were looking for me, Lover. Here I am. What's the plan?"

"This is the plan!" Riley charged towards Angelus, pulling a tazer from his pocket and aiming a kick at the vampire's head.

"Riley!" Buffy shouted.

The momentary distraction was all Angelus needed, he grabbed Riley's foot and twisted it sharply. A distinct crack preceded Riley's growl of pain. Angelus chuckled, leaning close to his victim, who stayed exactly where he had landed, clutching his ankle, "Bad doggie!"

"I'll-"

Angelus straightened, ignoring the boy, "You should really keep him on a leash."

An involuntary burst of laughter escaped Spike. This was almost worth having Angelus back...

Buffy didn't spare a look for the blonde vampire- pain in her denim clad ass- as she leaped over Riley and shoved Angelus backwards, standing resolutely between them, "Why don't you just come after me, huh? What's with all the games?" She held her hand out behind her, "We both know what you want."

Spike saw Riley motion towards Buffy's hand and looked totally lost.

Buffy shook her hand urgently behind her back, "Why don't you just get on with it, let's get it over-"

"Looking for this?" Angelus held up the tazer with a wicked grin. He watched Buffy take a slight step back and winked at her, "Oh dear. Little scamp! He's landed you in a bit of a mess."

WHEN YOU KISS ME I WANNA DIE

Spike lunged at Angelus -he never was one to think before he acted. He soon joined Riley on the ground in a pathetic heap. Somewhat incapacitated. How he hated Soldier Boy's ruddy gadgets. Nothing wrong with fists and the odd iron bar to his mind.

"Guess it's just you and me, Lover, the way it should be." Angelus took a wide stance and folded his arms, issuing another challenge.

Buffy gritted her teeth. Men. Vampires and men. Why did they insist on playing the hero? Did she *look* helpless? Okay, maybe she did, but they should know better by now. She eyed Angelus carefully, weighing her options- of which there were typically few, since her *professional* demon hunter ex and her *actual* demon stalker had become obstacles rather than backup and were now littering the sidewalk.

"Just bloody well stake him, Pet," was Spike's earth shatteringly helpful suggestion.

Riley seemed to be making an attempt at getting up. Not a good plan. "Both of you, stay out of this," Buffy commanded.

"There's my girl." Angelus said quietly. He watched her expression change, let his eyes roam slowly across her features, drinking her in.

Buffy shivered, she told herself it was because his words were chilling, then she reminded herself that lying in your head was a waste of effort. She knew she needed to make a decision, stay and fight, possibly lose now that Angelus was armed, or worse take things too far...

"Your move, Buff, want me to help?"

"No thanks I got it-"

Before Buffy could finish, Angelus was advancing towards her and she had no choice, but to attack. Riley and Spike were both trying to stand, if they thought for a second she was holding back they'd throw themselves in and there's no telling what could happen. Actually, she could pretty much tell. Riley and or Spike would get hurt or they'd take their stupid testosterone overload out on Angelus and Willow couldn't curse a pile of ashes...well, who knew these days. Either way, Buffy wasn't prepared to have the decision taken out of her hands. She had to keep them apart.

She threw a weak punch at his jaw, allowing him to catch her arm before it connected. She let it go slack, knowing instinctively that he would twist it behind her back, she didn't count on the heel of his boot slamming into her stomach first. Her body was still recoiling from the impact when a bolt of electricity ripped through her, pain tearing out across her nerve endings, finally forcing her to relax back onto Angelus' chest as her legs melted away beneath her.

Angelus backed away from Riley and Spike, shoving the weapon into his pocket- for playtime on a rainy day- and turned Buffy to face them. He threw an arm around her waist and pulled her close to him, in an unmistakable demonstration of ownership. He felt himself stir at her warmth, at her scent, and his features changed as he battled with control, his eyes glowing vicious amber, fangs slicing out to reveal his true face. "One teeny, tiny step and the Slayer's dead."

"Yeah, right. He'd never do it," Spike snorted cockily.

"We're not going to find out."

"That's right, Pup. So, you did train him a little, huh, Buff?" He grasped a handful of her hair and pulled her head aside to bare her neck, creamy, soft...he ran the flat of his tongue across the familiar scar at its base and all the way up to her cheek with one, slow, lick.
She swallowed hard, her breathing more ragged than their little melee could excuse. That was proof enough that she wanted him, as if he even needed proof...but he wanted her to admit it, ask him to take her and turn her...he wanted his little goddess to beg.

He brought his lips close to her ear, "Why are you letting me do it, Lover?" he whispered, "Is it that bad? Want me to kill you right here? Make it all stop?" He laughed, "I don't want you gone, Buff, I just *want* you." She remained still, impassive, Angelus revelled in her compliance, whatever the reason. "Shall we play with them a little?"

Buffy tried to ignore the familiar heat that came with being so close to him, with having his arm wound tightly around her. She was ignoring the cold, wet path he had left across her neck and the deep, velvet tone of his voice resounding in the pit of her stomach, as well. Only more so. She couldn't ignore her total lack of fear. There was no part of her, no tiny shred of doubt, that told her Angelus would kill her then and there. He wouldn't. This wasn't how he wanted it. The worst he would do was to try and take her somewhere and she wasn't about to let that happen. She had no reason to be afraid. She knew it, like she knew how to breathe, like she knew how to hunt, like she knew that she was her own best weapon against him. She was the closest thing he had to a weakness.

"See, boys? You see how easy it is when she wants you? This is how she likes it."

"Let her go," Riley ordered.

"Oh, will you shut up, Corn Boy!"

"Now, Spike, don't kick the puppy. He's right, I've been a very bad vampire, I'll just let the pretty girl go now and be on my way- oh wait! No. I won't," Angelus turned his attention back to Buffy, "He really isn't very bright, is he? How did you ever think *he* could satisfy you, Lover? You would have had better luck with Spike, course then I'd have to kill him too, scoop out his insides with a spoon maybe-"

"Like to see you try it, mate," Spike mumbled, taking a tiny step closer to them, he noticed with annoyance that Riley was trying to do the same- only far more obviously because of the ridiculous limp. Why the hell hadn't Buffy shaken it off yet?

"Either of you speak again, take another step, and I'll snap her in two," Angelus smirked as they eyed each other guiltily. "One at a time then. We have some issues to deal with I think. And there are some new rules. I'm going to explain them to you." He felt Buffy stiffen slightly and tightened his grip, crushing her hard up against him. So, not much time left in the game. He bowed his head a little, to trace the line of her jaw with his lips before he spoke...he would swear she rewarded him with the softest, almost inaudible sigh...

"The Slayer belongs to me. Now, I may have been a bit absent lately, but really- can't a guy get some respect for his territory? Let's start with you shall we?" Angelus addressed Riley, his voice thick with sarcasm, "Aren't you just the hero? Did you love her, boy? Did it eat away at you, seeing me there every time you looked at her, knowing she still dreamed of me, still wanted me all that time? Y'march in with your uniform and your cute little soldier buddies, pick up the little blonde on the rebound, have a little thing with her, a little thing with some vamp whores, oh yeah I heard all about that..."

"Pretty fond of some vamp whoring yourself aren't you *Angel*? Screwed any old flames recently?" Riley spat.

"Well, give me an hour or so..." Angelus grinned.

"You think she's gonna touch you when she knows about Darla? It won't matter if have a soul or not, you've proven what you are."

"Question is, Little Snapper, how do *you* know about Darla?" Angelus began to sing, "Someone's blown his cover..."

"Oh, now it's gonna hit the fan-" Spike leaned against a convenient tree and lit himself a cigarette, he thought it was about time he did some grinning of his own. "Slayer's gonna kick both your backsides...give us a yell if you want a hand, Pet."

Angelus frowned and shook his head, "Didn't I ask you not to speak? Am I talking to myself here?"

Spike let out a puff of smoke, playing his cool for all it was worth, "Pretty much."

"Shut it, Bleach Head!" Riley yelled suddenly, his face glowing a hot, uncomfortable red.

Bleach head? What kind of insult was that? Spike straightened, somehow he had gotten the bad end of this deal, "No I will *not* shut it. Way I see it, you two should learn to stay gone when you ride out of town on your bloody high horses, and it's about time Slayer here got to hear exactly what her two pretty boys are really about."

Riley moved towards Spike, his eyes dark, narrowed, "And what do you think you can tell her about us, Spike?"

"Hey, put me down for a confession on the vicious murders and all, but there was never an *us*, Riley, I resent that accusation..." Angelus answered cheerily, he was literally tingling with the pleasure of it all. The future was so close and so promising he could taste it- and it tasted like an eternity of deadly games, of fear and lust and screams and warm, fresh blood sipped from his lover's lips. Heaven. Only not of course.

"I don't have to tell her anything, seems like you two got it all sewn up with the revelations. He's been getting horizontal with dear old Darla- actually the way I remember it they didn't care much what angle they did it at- and somehow I'm bettin' you didn't read about it in the papers...you gettin' all this, love?"

"You don't seem all that surprised to hear about Darla's miraculous return yourself, Spike," Riley sneered. It was about time someone staked him, it was about time someone staked *all* vampires, before Sunnydale became a rehab centre for the undead. He couldn't take Angelus out with his ankle the way it was, and he had to assume Buffy had a plan because there was no way that short blast from the tazer would keep her down that long. One thing he could do was take Spike out of the equation.

"What of it? Dru told me."

"And you didn't think Buffy might have wanted to know Angel's sire was back?"

"Don't even try to get me in on this one-"

"You going to stop me, Spike? I'd like to see you try," Riley challenged.

Angelus grazed Buffy's ear with his teeth, she arched back instinctively- the jolt having no less effect than the shot of electricity earlier. His voice was barely a whisper.

"Now this'll be fun, Lover, I must say if I was Spike I'd have gone for *you* as soon as the chip was out, but Riley's not such a bad choice for starters..."

Buffy panicked, Spike had no chip, her stomach contracted painfully. Riley was about to get himself killed. She flicked her foot up behind her, sending it hurtling into Angelus' groin.

"You guys talk too much," she quipped shakily.

A moment later she turned to see him fall to his knees and immediately broke away, a split second after that she flew at Spike.

"What the bloody-"

She knocked him to the ground with a spinning kick, as soon as it struck she backed up and threw Riley's arm across her shoulders, pulling him close to her.

A quick glance told her shock was on her side, "Wouldn't want to out stay our welcome."

She dragged Riley away, cursing every ruined shred of their plan. Only the sharp strain of Angelus' laughter gave chase.

* * *

"Buffy please let me explain," Riley pleaded. He was confined to the couch whilst Tara and Cordelia tried to deal with his injured ankle.

"I th-think it's broken, you need to get it looked at properly," Tara confirmed apologetically. She was not at all comfortable examining him with an entire room full of people watching.

"Thanks, Tara." Buffy continued to ignore Riley, as she had done all the way home. For someone so desperate to explain himself, he had sure wasted a lot of time begging her to let him. "I think we should wait until the morning though, to be safe-"

"Buffy's quite right, with Spike on the loose as well we can't be too careful," Giles added.

Buffy frowned, "He didn't even seem to know. We'll need to make sure he can't get in here."

"W-we'll take care of that," Tara offered.

"How can you talk about Spike like that? Like he's no one-"

"Spike's dangerous, Dawn, I know this is hard for you to understand-" Buffy tried to explain, too familiar with the confusion in her sister's eyes. How could Dawn be expected to understand that Spike hadn't changed at all, but suddenly he was capable of killing any one of them? He had protected her from so many things and now she needed protecting from him.

"No," Dawn shrieked "*You* don't understand. How come Angel loses his soul and you all want to get it back, but Spike loses his chip and it's over?"

"I'm sorry, I get that you're angry with me now, but I need to deal with this first before anyone else gets hurt-" Dawn had stormed off to her room before Buffy could even finish her sentence.

"Should I-?"

Xander was already heading for the stairs, "It's okay, Tara, I'll go."

"Tempers are frayed, Buffy, you've all been stuck in here for too long-" Wesley observed.

Gunn raised an eyebrow, "Heh. I'll say."

"I know, I-I just can't think straight. There are so many people involved, it's not like last time. I know what I'm dealing with, what he's capable of and it seems to have gotten worse. I mean, the I-want-to-end-the-world-kick was bad enough, but this time he doesn't seem to care about anything else-"

"Well, you guys did get extra smoochy since you were last treated to a visit from his dark side, makes sense he would turn the obsession up a notch. Plus, he has all those angsty separation issues now. Angel works hard to stay away, Buffy, he's gotta be like a really deprived kid in a really big candy store right now-"

"Yes, thank you, Cordelia, insightful as ever," Giles sighed.

Buffy began to nod slowly, "No, she's right. I know what he wants and I know how to get him here...is Willow still upstairs?"

Anya spoke up, "Someone should tell her what happened, I'm not volunteering."

Buffy sighed, "I have an idea, we may have to wait a little longer, but this can still work-"

"Buffy, we have to talk," Riley pleaded. Again.

"Later."

Buffy stalked out of the room, pausing briefly next to Giles, "Watch him," she mouthed.

* * *

Willow watched Buffy's eyes flicker gently, she brought her voice slightly lower and continued to whisper the chant, the words were forgotten, unimportant, but their soothing rhythm had begun to take effect. She was glad that Buffy had brought the idea directly to her, she had a feeling the others would have objected- not least to the fact that it would mean Angelus would be free for another few hours at least. She wasn't sure this would work, she could subdue Buffy's consciousness and help her to project, but their success relied almost completely on Buffy's ability to sense and locate Angelus even from a distance, it was a big step from sharing the odd dream...

The Bronze pulsated with life, the dance floor writhing with people, fevered chords from an eager band vibrating through their mass. Perfume and sweat clung to the humid air, sweeping the contours of Buffy's face as she glided easily through the crowd.

A tall, muscular man cowered from a pretty redhead who was gesturing wildly at him...

A group of girls smiled blankly at each other as they sipped their drinks and smoothed their hair, trying to look entertained...

A couple stood in the shadows, impossibly close...

None of them saw her.

Angel waited, she slowed as she drew nearer and he took her hand as she passed, brushing her knuckles with a kiss. Buffy smiled at him and he gave his approval with a deliberate nod.

She walked directly towards Angelus, who stood with his back to her, one large, lethal hand caressing the girl's fine, blonde hair. Buffy paused as she reached them, closing her eyes to absorb the elusive calm that washed over her.

Angelus let his hand drop from the meal as Buffy came to stand between them, her expression was blank, unreadable. The other girl was still talking at him, he blocked out the irritation easily and tried to penetrate Buffy's cool façade with a crooked smile, "Well, hello, Lover, is it that time already?"

"Uh, what? Hello? Earth to- what was your name again...and who is she?"

Buffy's eyes were fixed on his chest, she lifted a hand to stroke two fingers down the exposed flesh where his shirt lay open and raised her eyes to his. He took a sharp breath, the air as shocking to his dead lungs as her warm, forbidden touch to his skin. She didn't flinch as his stare hardened. She held his collar tightly in her fist and led him away without a word.

The girl stared after him in disbelief, "Hey, where are you going..."

He followed her up the stairs, his curiosity growing with each step, feathered with the thrill of anticipation. She led him onto the balcony, pushing him back against the bars as she released him. "Good girl," he whispered, slipping an arm around her waist to draw her nearer.

She traced each of the black buttons of his shirt, with a pale, polished nail, her concentration absolute. He watched her intently and waited, still she refused to look at him. One arm hung loosely at her side, Angelus ran a cool hand down its length and dipped to catch her own. He lifted it to his mouth and pressed a kiss to her palm, finally she raised her head and tilted it slightly to glare at him, "What? I'm not allowed to play? You should know better than that, Lover-"

She elevated herself and silenced him with her lips, he pulled back briefly- startled- but the surprise was soon forgotten and he leaned into the kiss. She had his full attention.

Buffy's head was swimming with hot, sticky confusion. Her senses were on overload, but the messages crossed, and contradicted, and overwhelmed any attempt to understand. Angelus' mouth slanted over hers, his tongue delving insistently as she pressed herself closer. One arm remained firmly clamped around her waist, his strong fingers digging into her flesh, the other hand held her wrist aside in a vice-like grip. She pulled against the restraint, he tightened it. She relaxed gradually, allowing his arm to support her as she reached up into his hair with her free hand and clasped a handful, pulling him down towards her and yanked his head to the side, tearing his lips away from her, to be replaced with dry, deficient air. She spoke into his ear, accentuating each word carefully with a breath, "You know what I want, come with me now."

His head snapped up, "You think I'm that stupid?" He let go of her immediately and caught her by the throat as she stumbled backwards.

Buffy gasped, but allowed him to hold her there, his hand wrapped almost completely around her neck. She moved closer to him and clutched the sides of his coat, offering a languid smile.

"What's the game, Slayer?" Angelus covered her face with his hand and dragged it slowly down over her features, when he reached her soft, open mouth, her tongue darted out to flick across his finger tip. He recoiled as if burned and glanced up over her shoulder before releasing her completely.

"What the-"

Angel stared back at him, unphased, and placed a gentle hand on each of Buffy's shoulders. She glanced round at him, registering only the mildest surprise.

"Are you going to let them do it? Let me have her?" Angel asked quietly.

"This is crazy."

Buffy kissed each of Angel's hands in turn before looking back at Angelus, "Make it stop." She turned away from him and reached up to Angel for a kiss, he wrapped his arms around her and she sighed with pleasure.

Angelus wrenched them apart angrily, too bewildered to do anything else "Don't touch her," he growled.

"It's worse isn't it? Worse for him to have me than anyone else."

"If he tries to take you from me, one of us will-" Angelus threatened.

Angel smiled knowingly, "No, not yet."

"All these games...you're going to give me back to him." She laid a hand lightly on Angelus' chest.

His face turned, "No."

Buffy stood on tiptoes to place a delicate kiss on his lips, ignoring the sharp chafing of his fangs. She looked back over her shoulder as Angel led her away, "Then come soon," she murmured and they both disappeared.

YOU BELONG TO SOMEBODY

Angelus threw down what was left of his victim as he neared the mansion, seconds later he stopped, assaulted by a picture of Buffy's tiny hands snaking across his chest...then his other chest. He growled low and hard, retracing his steps to where the girl lay crumpled on the ground and smiling down at his handiwork. The blonde hair was matted with blood and her slim legs were splayed out at an obscene angle- he had to hand it to himself, he had impeccable taste. But he *still*. Wasn't. Satisfied.

He growled again, kicking out viciously at the body. Who the *hell* did she think she was playing with? What was that? A spell- must have been a spell- that witch was going to scream for mercy when he got his hands on her, she would pay for screwing with his head and so would Buffy. Yes, his girl would have to be taught a lesson too- oh, she would stand at his side, but she would damn well learn to obey the rules- his rules- before she did. Or else.

He had serious energy to burn and he knew just how to do it, oh yes, a tasty little treat awaited him at home and it was about time he stopped playing with his food. He headed inside feeling more relaxed. If Buffy wanted him to go to her he'd go, but he would go in his own time, follow his own plan. By the time he was finished, her life would be stripped so bare she *would* beg him to turn her...Buffy begging- now there was a thought that gave him a whole different type of energy to burn. He was never the type for self-denial, but he would make her wait- just a little- he had a few surprises to line up first-

"Oh bloody hell, can't a bloke get a few extra minutes-"

Angelus eyed the blonde vampire with little more than vague curiosity, "Spike. What are you doing?"

Spike looked at the unconscious girl draped across his arm and put on the I-thought-it-would-be-obvious-you-idiot voice that he usually reserved for Xander, "I'm *rescuing* her."

"I see that," Angelus continued, looking patiently blank, "May I ask why?"

"Slayer brownie points," he sighed, tired of pointing out the blindingly obvious, "Just how many of those little gray cells went back packing with that soul of yours?"

Angelus laughed hysterically, he couldn't have breathed if he'd needed to. The scenario was absolutely priceless.

Spike frowned, caught somewhere between confusion and that tingling sense of dread that few other than his sire would ever be able to inspire in him, "What's so bleedin' funny?"

"You!" he just couldn't stop the laughing, "Playing the hero! Oh, if Dru could see you!" Angelus threw his arms wide and grinned at the unfortunate, peroxided end of his illustrious bloodline, "It hasn't even hit you yet has it? The only point you were ever going to earn from Buffy is at the end of a stake- and you're a whole lot closer to that now!"

"What did you say to her?" Spike demanded.

"Come on, boy, think! I didn't raise an idiot."

Spike's mouth went slack, "The chip-"

"Ah, there you are, Spike. See? I knew you'd figure it out. Nasty chip's all gone. How does it feel to have your teeth back?"

Spike stared.

Angelus dropped his voice, he spoke slowly, enticingly, "What d'you wanna do first?"

He glanced down at the girl.

"Her? You want her? Consider it a gift-"

"Buffy-" Spike murmured, half to himself.

"No, Spike. Buffy. Is. Mine. Buffy was *always* mine. You need to think carefully about what you do next. She doesn't want you. None of them want you. Especially now-"

"You did this!" he hissed.

"I freed you! You were nothing! You know what she said, Spike, you know what the poor little mom-less Slayer said after the funeral?" Angelus pitched his voice girlishly high, "Not to worry, Angel, I'm not afraid of the big blonde wolf- okay so it was more like: the second that chip stops working he's dust, but that's just a buzz kill-"

"You're lying." But the words held little conviction even to Spike's own ears.

"You think she's gonna let you walk around Sunnydale without a leash? You think she trusts you? Do you even want her to? Think about it, Spike, think about what you *were*. You can take them all, eat the lot of them- when you get to the witch I'd appreciate it if you'd share, I owe her-"

"And Buffy?" he asked, almost absently.

"Mine."

Silence.

Spike's mind kicked into overdrive. The girl in his arms suddenly felt warmer, her pulse beat harder, louder, until it thundered in his ears, she smelt like sweat and fear and blood. Mostly blood. Each of the cuts that criss-crossed her slender body called him to taste her, to bury his fangs in her neck and wash away the humiliation, the frustration, the love that one tiny, legendary woman had made him feel.

Were they both right? Buffy and Angelus, they both said he couldn't love her- it wasn't possible. The thing he'd become- he didn't recognize himself- if it wasn't him, if what he had been, since they chipped him, wasn't Spike, how could anything he felt be real?

But how could it not? There was something about her, the cross between darkness and humanity, that pulled him in. Her power, the Slayer, his enemy. Killing Slayers, the two most important moments in his long history, they had earned him the respect he craved as a human, made *him* legendary, but to have one, to really have one- wasn't that even better? She was the only thing he had left to hope for once Dru had gone, once they'd chipped him- what else was left? What else could he achieve? They'd forced him onto her side, and on her side- she ruled- how could he *not* want her?

Buffy was his chance at a comeback. When Dru left him, he had nothing, without her, he *was* nothing. But she would be sorry, she would regret letting him slip away. He had wanted her to see it when she came back the last time, if only Buffy had been willing, he wanted Dru to be jealous, to recognize him as someone, someone she wanted, someone worth having. If Buffy wanted him, if they could be together, that would be proof enough. Proof he was worth having, right?

With her, he would show them all, without her, he could just add another failure to his list. And he *wanted* to show them: show Angelus, show soldier boy, show the holier-than-thou hero cult and someday even Dru. Show them all that they were wrong about him. Including Buffy.

He did love her. Of course he did. He loved her enough to know she was bloody miserable, that she didn't want to live anymore. Now he could make all the pain stop, they could be together on his terms, he would take care of her like he had Dru and he would never have to watch her die again. He could make her happy, make it easy, make it forever. Show them all.

Angelus didn't doubt that Spike would give in. One more layer of Buffy's protection would be torn from her. He wanted to play with her while she was raw and vulnerable, that would be even better than playing with Spike. Poor, stupid, Spike. He really did get a two for one deal there: Buffy had no one better than the Puppy Dog to watch her back, Spike was about to make himself repulsive to the woman he claimed to love- and Angelus had only had to call in one favor to get it done. It would be fun to watch Buffy dust him- that would hurt much more than any torture Angelus could devise, straight to the heart in more ways than one. The arrogant little whelp deserved it and he would get what was coming to him. If nothing else, what he was about to do would make sure Spike was high on the Slayer hit list.

He watched Spike struggle with the truth for a while, waiting for his inevitable success.

Then he got bored.

"She smell good?" he stalked towards them, grabbing a fistful of Spike's hair and thrusting his head down towards the bare, inviting flesh. "I'm gonna finish her off anyway, just take her. Drink."

The tension struck at Spike's jaw, he clenched his teeth as it spread across his shoulders, as it reached up to contort his features and breathe gold fire into his eyes. The hunger consumed him, every second spent wanting screamed its right to take revenge.

"Drink!" Angelus barked.

The blood rushed eagerly towards him as he bit down, slicing into the delicious, young flesh. It filled his mouth, hot, metallic. The taste banished everything, but the sheer, undiluted pleasure of the act. Like all his memories returned, like a thousand desires satisfied, like coming home.

Angelus had known she would be useful, there would be no going back for Spike now. Spike who couldn't possibly know how precious this meal was, but he was feeling generous and Fred would, after all, make a pretty little playmate. Angelus smiled, "That's good, Spike, drink," he whispered, "Drink it all."

* * *

"Is that better?"

"Mmmm, much."

Buffy snuggled closer into the warmth of Angel's coat, suddenly grateful for its rarely appreciated billowiness. "Why do we have to sit out here?" She shifted uncomfortably against the solid, cold gravestone that she knew instinctively to be her own.

Angel dropped a kiss on the top of her head, "Maybe you're trying to tell us something."

Buffy groaned in a mixture of pleasure and irritation. She loved to hear Angel murmur *anything*, it made her heart beat all wild and fast- and not in the just been ten rounds with a fresh corpse complete with a bad attitude kind of way- but now was not the time for cryptic. "What's going to happen if- when you're back? You won't remember any of this and I won't have you here."

"You'll have me out there instead."

She frowned, "Not like this."

"No. Not like this," he confirmed, looking down into her puzzled eyes, "Patience, my love, you can't imagine how much is still to come, how far we'll have to go."

Buffy planted a reflexive kiss on his mouth, "Sounds like fun," she mumbled sarcastically.

He caught her face in his palm as she pulled away from the kiss, "It won't be, Sweetheart," he whispered seriously.

Buffy nodded, "Why am I getting a sense of deja vu here...nothing much changing in old dreamland, huh?"

Angel raised an eyebrow at her quizzically, "You didn't like the last one?"

She smiled, "I liked the ending..."

Deep, soft laughter rumbled through Angel's chest and Buffy felt a familiar spark of surprise and love flash somewhere inside her. The heat began to spread beneath her skin as he moved closer to kiss her once again- this time with no intention of letting her pull away. His arm locked firmly around her waist, his fingers snaked through her hair- urging her closer, drawing her in.

Buffy squeezed her eyes tightly shut, trying to just *feel*, trying to will every sensation into sharp focus and capture them for her memory. She took weak, trembling breaths, between kisses, gasping more for the loss of contact than air. Each one seemed more desperate than the last. Searching, restless. The slightest, intimate brush of his cool tongue on hers making her shiver and cling to him more tightly...

Willow smiled down at her friend. Buffy lay curled on her bed, hugging the sweater she had gone to fetch to her stomach as though it were her lifeline. Willow figured being cold was part of Buffy's burden, part of who she was- loneliness was cold. She watched the sleepy eyes blink open gently, seeing the bleary confusion clear as Buffy woke.

"S-sorry, was I sleeping? I just laid down for a second-"

"It's okay, what you did tonight- well, I know that stuff can really take it out of you."

Buffy offered a weak smile in return. She couldn't begin to explain what a strange experience it had been and she certainly didn't feel like mentioning the thrill it had given her. The meeting with Angelus had been a weird cross between a dream and reality- none of the rules, but all of the five senses were in play- plus a delicious Slayer-bonus sixth- it was heady stuff. Only bad. Bad. She reminded herself one more time that Angelus belonged to nightmares not to dreams. She wished that he was all that stood between herself and Angel, maybe then she wouldn't feel so much like he was the closest she was going to get...Angelus was hers, right now she could be with him, it would cost her everything and she honestly didn't care- but her family would pay too.

She shook the thought away, "Not a good idea to be sleeping on the job, Will, not when Angel-" she stopped herself, "Not when *Angelus* could arrive tonight..." Buffy let the sentence trail off, casting her eyes down guiltily as she stretched. The distinction seemed so much more important since Angel had left, since coming to know Spike, everything had gotten so confusing, the lines were so blurred- she needed a way to keep it all straight in her head.

"We'll be ready for him."

Buffy stood up to level her eyes at the young witch who was holding all their lives in her hands, "Is this going to work, Will? I can't- what I did before, to Angel, when Acathla-"

Willow touched her arm lightly, "I understand-"

"No, you don't. I have all these people to protect- a whole world full- but Angel isn't one of them." She paused to let that register and to note the surprise on Willow's face, "Protecting him could cost all of you your lives...I know you think I risked that before, with Dawn, but-" Buffy closed her eyes and swallowed back more pointless tears, "I think I knew, I knew it was never a choice between her life or the world- it was her life or mine and it was easy."

"What are you trying to say, Buffy?"

"I did it twice. The end of the world portals get with the gaping and I have to feed them something, I had no choice the first time, second time I was lucky...it took me, I'm not saying I would have hurt Dawn, I would have died trying to find another way," she smiled wryly, "Likely thrown myself in anyhow on the off chance it would work...I would have done the same for Angel if I could. You-" Buffy stroked Willow's hair absently, "You're all my family, I'll do anything to protect you, you know that, I'll do what I have to...but if it's him or me, Will-"

"It won't come to that!" Willow protested.

"*If* it's him or me," Buffy repeated carefully, "I'll die to save him."

"Buffy-" Willow was cut short as Cordelia marched in unannounced, it took all he composure not to blast the brunette straight back out of the door.

"There's still no sign of him, Buffy, we *need* him, we have to get out of this crappy town and find Fred."

"I know that, Cordelia, but thanks for the recap," Buffy smirked- her total lack of humor evident.

Cordelia raised her eyebrows pointedly, "I'm not sure you know what you're doing- my friend's life is on the line here, two of them in fact and I'm not liking your version of a plan."

"Why? You got a better idea? Had a vision?" She moved closer to Cordelia, planting her fists on her hips and inclining her head testily.

"I don't need a vision to see that you can't deal here, *Buffy*, Angel would want-"

Buffy's voice turned cold and quiet, "Don't you dare tell me what he would want." She clenched her teeth tightly, trying to fend off the urge to slap Cordelia's oh-so-symmetrical face.

"Well, *you're* not exactly qualified to know anymore." Cordelia folded her arms defensively.

Willow to roll her eyes skywards and Buffy pressed her nails into her hands with a force bred from pure irritation.

"And you are I suppose?"

Cordelia pulled up to her full height and pouted her lips a little, "Actually, I am."

Buffy laughed hysterically, the tension draining from her body instantly. "Cordelia, I'm sure you make a great evil-fighting secretary- hey, you take those calls direct from above don't you? I'm even sure that Angel values your friendship, when the world stops revolving around you long enough for you to offer it that is, but you will never, *never* understand him like I do. You can live in L.A., and see him every day, and flutter your eyelashes at him until they turn gray and fall out, but he will *never* let you get that close. I know that. You know that. Let's be vaguely adult here and not pretend otherwise, huh?"

Cordelia narrowed her eyes, she was so angry she practically glowed. If she could have blown Buffy across the room by sheer force of will...she made do with a hard stare and sweeping exit. Then she slammed the door. Hard.

* * *

The pancakes tasted like slightly mushy slabs of cardboard, well actually Buffy didn't have too much cardboard eating experience and Tara was a great cook, but in these circumstances nothing tasted good. He still hadn't come. She knew he would. She knew it. But when? And how many people would die while they played this ridiculous waiting game.

Willow and Tara exchanged worried glances, none of them felt like eating, but breakfast had seemed like as good a distraction as any. The rest of the house slept on, people had crashed out all over the place, no one having been willing to admit they were tired last night and actually go to bed. The air buzzed with anxiety- to Willow and Tara's sensitive minds the negative energy was almost painful, hence the inability to sleep, even after they had curled up, arms locked protectively around each other. Daylight had been a welcome relief.

"You sure you don't wanna take a nap, Buffy? We're probably not looking at any action until tonight."

"Sleep's not really a good idea, Will, I've been having- well there are these-" Buffy realized she was condemning the pancake in her hand to a cruel and untimely death, "Let's just say waking up again isn't so easy. Besides, there are blankets and sewers and minions with a death wish and...and look what he did to the Magic Box."

Tara forced down another mouthful before speaking, "Should we wake the others-"

"One less to bother with." Riley limped into the kitchen and propped himself up on the breakfast bar. He looked at Buffy, she glanced at him before her plate reclaimed her attention. She was too pale, he could almost believe she was fragile. He just wanted to touch her face.

Buffy considered his faded blue jeans and sleeveless white vest for a moment. He was toned and tanned and handsome, once upon a time him standing there like that would have made her smile, made her feel warm and comfortable. Back when she had sincerely wanted to love him. Now? She just wanted to slap his face.

"Pancakes?" Tara asked politely.

"Thanks, maybe later, still not quite ready to believe it's tomorrow. Buffy we should talk."

Buffy sighed, this wasn't the time, but would there ever be one? At least she might find out something useful. "Go right ahead."

Riley looked at Willow and Tara in turn, realizing that this wasn't going to play out the same way it had in his head.

Buffy pre-empted him, "They're staying. Get on with it."

"I know what you're probably thinking-"

"Oh, that you lied to me? That I don't know which side you're supposed to be on? That you know way more than you told me...I don't need a lesson in *my* thoughts, Riley, I need to know what the hell *your* game is."

He shifted his weight uncomfortably, he'd been doing that a lot since he arrived, "Please, just listen. Hear me out, then you can tell me to go if you want."

Buffy nodded and the two witches averted their eyes discreetly.

"I left to go on that mission, not long after, some of our top guys were recruited to work for a private firm in L.A., when I heard about the job I volunteered-"

"Wolfram and Hart." Buffy felt the impact as if it were physical, "You work for the firm that's been after Angel all this time, that probably kidnapped an innocent girl, shot Wesley-"

"Let me finish, Buffy. The things they said about him, he could be crucial to the End of Days battle, he'll fight against you. I had to be there, to see, to find out the truth...and I had to see what it was I could never live up to," his voice trailed off, embarrassed and guilty.

"Way to go over the top with the jealousy, Riley," Buffy spat.

"What do you expect? You never really loved me, Buffy, you never let yourself- because of him!"

Willow made to stand, "Uh- maybe we should leave-"

Buffy glowered at Riley as she spoke, "Stay."

"Okay," Willow managed to squeak, she sat back down, reaching for Tara's hand.

Riley braced his palms on the smooth surface in front of him and made a deliberate effort to stay calm, "I've seen what he's capable of, Buffy, *with* a soul. He slept with Darla, he let her feed on a room full of humans-"

No. Not Angel. Not for Darla. Not for her. Buffy held up her hand to stop him, bile swimming at the back of her throat, "I don't need to listen to this-"

"You don't *need* to, but I'm asking that you listen. Listen to what I have to say and then decide about him," he urged.

"If I want to know about Angel I'll ask Angel. When. He's. Back," Buffy emphasized the words, aiming them as carefully as any weapon, "Your twisted version is something I can do without. Especially since I know just what kind of firm you work for, maybe you should hear some home truths about them, care to ask Wesley?"

"I don't work for them any more. We have a tap on the phones at the Hyperion, I was informed when it happened. I knew he'd come here, that you'd be in danger and I knew there wasn't much time. I took the orb without permission when I heard you needed it. I'm probably well and truly fired." It felt like he was gaining ground, "I don't work for them anymore, Buffy, but I swear I never did and was never asked to do anything- anything *bad* for them."

"That's what you're best at isn't it? Following orders. It's a shame you didn't learn your lesson from the Initiative- try reading the mission statement, Riley, find out what you're fighting for." She couldn't help it, the disgust was written all over her face.

"Supposing you are right about them-"

This was just too much.

"Supposing! I know what side I'm on, Riley, and I trust the people I'm on it with. What else did you find out, huh? Get the dirt on Angel? That the cause worth fighting for?"

"No. You. You're worth fighting for."

Buffy sat up, stunned.

"I know that now," Riley clung desperately to her attention, "I know why you loved him, I've seen the good he can do, but I also know why you can't be together, why he doesn't trust himself with you. I was a fool, Buffy, I was selfish when I should have been patient. It was too soon, you needed time and I kept pushing. By the time I realized, I thought it was too late, then when I heard that you died...God, Buffy, I felt like my world was gonna end...they kept it from me, if I knew what you were facing-"

She shook her head in disbelief, "You would have what? Come to town so Glory could break some of your limbs, save Angelus the trouble?"

He went on, unperturbed, "I really did call and leave Dawn my number, she thought I should know when they...when you came back, even though I wouldn't let her tell anyone that we'd spoken. She knew what it did to me, Buffy, I couldn't even go to your funeral, it hurt so bad, she knew how much it would mean to me that you were alive," he finally reached out to cup her face in his hand, straining to balance himself with his injury, "You're a miracle," he whispered.

Buffy looked up at him, her gaze steady, her voice calm and easily controlled, "Wake Wesley and Gunn. Go to the hospital with them, get your ankle seen to, have Wesley looked at. On the way you can tell them everything you know about Wolfram and Hart, use anything you have to find out if they're definitely responsible for Fred's disappearance. You'll stay here until this is over. Angelus doesn't like to share his toys so I'm guessing he has something nasty planned for you." Buffy lifted her small hand and clamped it around his wrist, "Lie to me again or get in my way and I'll make you wish I'd let him have you. Understand?"

Riley swallowed, his face grew hot, his non-existent collar squeezed and chafed. He couldn't seem to form any words.

"You've managed to make one of the most difficult times of my life worse. You somehow think that this is the time for a sweet reunion, that stalking my ex-boyfriend and lying to me would help you achieve it. I'm wasting even more time discussing it all with you right now. That does not improve your position, so please answer my question. Do. You. Understand?"

He gritted his teeth and nodded once.

Buffy finally removed his hand from her cheek, "Good." She strolled out of the room, leaving them all staring after her. The tastiest pancakes in the world couldn't fix this one.

Curse translation: Angel- vessel that will carry Angelus. Angelus! Demon Twin, neither dead nor of the living, may your name be forgotten. The shadow moves as the sun commands. I implore you, do not ignore! Before this fire burns out...May it be so! Cannot arise! Do not arise! Cannot arise! Do not arise!

I'LL BE BACK

Tara handed Willow another plate. "I'm not going to say it."

Willow smiled, "You're not?" She held off on the drying and let the soapy water drip onto her bare feet.

Her girlfriend sighed, "No, I'm not. I know I don't need to- do I?"

"I'll be careful."

"I know you will, that's why I'm not going to say it." Tara tried to sound confident, but she was scrubbing the frying pan just a little too hard, making her nerves obvious.

This time Willow was the one to sigh, "You're worried."

"I love you," Tara spoke softly and clearly, it was a simple fact.

Willow smoothed a hand down her girlfriend's arm, "I'll be careful," she whispered, reaching up to tuck a lock of dark blonde hair behind Tara's ear. Her heart turned ice cold at the thought of never feeling the fine strands between her fingers again- no, that wouldn't happen- it was going to work. She watched as Tara nodded slightly, studying the pan carefully, avoiding her eye. "I promise," Willow added.

Tara finally looked up, pausing to register, as always, how lucky she felt. It never stopped surprising her that someone so special could love her, that the beautiful, intelligent, powerful woman, standing in that little puddle of dishwater, wanted to be with her. And it made her afraid. "Let me help you."

"Tara, no- there's no point putting yourself in danger- putting us both in danger. If you're there I'll be worried about you, I could make a mistake-"

Dawn's piercing scream invaded the kitchen.

Willow felt the air rush out of her lungs. The plate slipped through her fingers and crashed to the floor as the sound of breaking glass rang loudly through the house.

"Dawn!" Tara cried as they both flew into the hallway.

Buffy was already halfway down the stairs, having gone to her room to prepare herself for what ever might happen that night, she was still pulling her black tank top over her head, her own shout echoed Tara's, "Dawn!"

The young girl stood in the hall, she was shaking, pointing towards the living room, "Someone th-threw a rock, the window smashed, I-"

Buffy took her by the shoulders, "Are you hurt, did it hit you?" She waited for Dawn to shake her head before bolting into the living room to see the damage.

The rest of the household emerged from the dining room where they had been gathering weapons for the possibly-pending-but-in-no-way-guaranteed fight and filled the hall, anticipation making them silent, poised. All eyes were on Buffy.

She returned carrying a yellow scrap of paper, "Not terribly original, this was attached to it," - "Want to come out and play, Lover?" she read flatly.

Cordelia arched her brows, "Well, I don't know about you, but I'm just quaking in my mules over here- seriously- how tacky is that?"

Willow resisted the urge to smile, it really wasn't the time, but something about Cordelia had changed. There was no running or yelping, she was just so-

Eeew! She gave herself a mental slap, this was Cordelia, there was no denying she was an incredibly attractive woman, but...eeew! She cleared her throat, "Guess it's time."

"Okay, Will, go do your thing- we're counting on you. Dawn I want you upstairs, Xander, Anya, Tara go with her- everyone else either goes too or stays back and, whatever happens, we stick to the plan." She didn't wait for them to agree, as soon as Dawn was out of sight, she fixed a smile on her face and opened the door. "You forget how to knock, Ang-" the clever remark was stolen from her lips, gasps behind her confirming what she had already assumed.

Angelus stood in the doorway, a girl draped across his arms, deathly pale, her head lolling back at a grotesque angle.

Fred.

Spike lurked behind them, arms folded defiantly.

"No!" Wesley breathed, his vision beginning to cloud as, colours swimming before him- the soft, chestnut brown of her hair, the pale, wax white of her skin and his coat: the thick, thick black of his coat. Cordelia placed a steadying hand on his arm as he began to sway.

"You bastard," Gunn snarled. Riley and Giles tried to hold him back, but he shrugged them off violently.

"So you gonna invite us in, Lover?"

"She's already dead," Buffy said quietly.

"That a chance you want to take?"

"Buffy, you can't!" Riley barked.

Gunn sneered, pointing a threatening finger, "That's our friend, you asshole, she could be alive."

"Hurt my family and you'll die. Again." Buffy's voice held no whisper of emotion, she stood back, "Come in."

Angelus chuckled, "Good girl, see, I just wanna talk a little, maybe get an iced tea, a couple of home baked cookies...you did invite me over after all."

"Evenin'," Spike managed as he followed, glad that his bloody pathetic entrance had gone unnoticed thanks to Angelus' little speech. He was feeling incredibly awkward about this. Things had been a whole lot easier when his life had been kill, feed, shag, kill, feed, shag...this was seriously messed up.

Riley and Gunn both shifted slightly, trying to get within closer range of the vampires, assessing possible plans of action. Buffy fixed her eyes on Angelus as she turned her head to address the hushed group behind her, "Nobody is going to move, this is between me and him. Put her down and everybody else can leave..."

Angelus shook his head, dazzling her with a freakish smile, "Don't think so, Lover, I mean...they *could* if you feel like being charitable, give to the needy, feed the hungry- sorry did I forget to mention I brought some friends? They're outside. Didn't think you'd mind us crashing your little party-"

Buffy tried to steady her breathing, she knew he could hear her heartbeat quicken, smell the thin film of sweat that lay across her palms. She had to keep everyone safe for long enough for Willow to do the spell, suddenly keeping everyone under one roof seemed like one hell of a stupid plan. What other choice had there been? He would have gotten to someone, she knew it, he had already gotten to Spike. Every single person she cared about was in serious danger and the fact that she cared about the danger himself wasn't helping. "Then how about you and I take this outside, come on, *Lover*, you wanna play? Give me some space to throw you around in at least-"

"Love to, Buff, but we wouldn't want to start without everyone would we- now where's our special witchy friend? Hmmm? What could she possibly be doing? Why don't you go ask her to join us, Spike, and see what other little treats you can find."

Spike cleared his throat, "Yeah, I'll go do that," he mumbled in the general direction of the floor. He was beginning to see that, even de-chipped, without Dru at his side he was only half a bad, and a piss poor one at that-

He wasn't sure what registered first; his close encounter with the wall or the invisible- and just-his-luck very solid- force that propelled his back into it, "Ow! How was that necessary?"

"You. Won't. Touch. Her." Every pair of eyes snapped instantly to the blonde witch who stood at the top of the stairs, perfectly still, not a trace of the usual self-conscious stutter in her voice.

Spike smirked in spite of himself, he'd always known Tara had it in her, "I was gonna ask nicely, love, blondes' honour."

Buffy could feel the muscles in her face twitching nervously as she tried to maintain her composure. How much longer did Willow need? Dawn was up there, and Xander and Anya? Could they handle Spike?

Angelus might as well have been sojourning inside her head, it was so obvious what she was thinking. "Don't worry, he's well trained. I told him to fetch- he'll fetch." He nodded at Spike who was clenching his teeth in irritation, "No biting, Spikey, or I'll let the big bad witch get you."

Spike sighed, "Give over, mate."

"No," Tara warned.

Angelus rolled his eyes, some people just weren't getting into their roles, games were no fun this way. "Either Spike goes upstairs and Miss Power Trip up there gets out of the way, or I break this little beauty right here in half."

"Tara, please," Wesley pleaded gently, verbalising what Cordelia and Gunn seemed unable to. He didn't care what this did to their strategy, or the position he was putting Willow's girlfriend in. Fred was in that monster's hands, he was holding her like an object, like something that belonged to him, like a toy. Wesley's heart was thumping out a painful rhythm in his chest and his eyes burned with unshed tears.

"Please," he repeated.

Tara descended the stairs slowly as Spike made his way up them, she stared at him as they crossed- her eyes black and cold, a dangerous cocktail of magic and anger.

Spike held up his hands, "Yeah, yeah, touch her and you'll bake a cake with my entrails blah blah blah..."

"Good. Now this is progress."

Wesley stepped forward, "You'll let her go, Angelus."

Angelus laughed, watching as the sound forced Buffy to shiver, "You know what? I think I will, wakey wakey, Precious."

Fred lifted her head and hopped out of his arms, smiling mischievously, "Oh goody, I could drink a horse-"

Wesley felt his legs buckle beneath him and was vaguely aware of Riley and Cordelia supporting him, Cordelia cooing soft words into his ear, reminding him to breathe, to hold on- hold on to what? He felt like slapping her, or burying himself in her arms and crying like a child, there was nothing for him to hold on *to*. He had seen it. Seen his chance at happiness, at love, and now he had to watch it dance away from him in her slender body, wearing her face.

"Fred!" Gunn was the first to exclaim.

"Hi there, baby, don't a girl get a hug around here?" She crooked her finger at him and pouted as he stood frozen in shock, "Aw, doncha wanna?"

Angelus shook his head, "I told you not to play with your food, precious."

A sparkle lit her eyes, a hint of their demon amber shimmering beneath the surface, "Can I play with you instead?" she purred with false innocence.

Buffy could barely breathe, the weight that Angel would have to bear when he knew what he'd done felt like it was pressing down on her in his absence. Her words cracked with sadness, "You shouldn't have done it."

"Gee, Buff, if I'd known you wouldn't approve...you jealous? I seem to remember you *telling* me to go to hell, I took that as a green light to get back into the dating scene- no, wait, that's not right...you actually *sent* me to hell, my mistake. Ain't love grand?"

Angelus grinned, bored of strong-passive-Buffy, he jabbed his right fist sharply into her pretty jaw line, powering it with the full force of his body weight.

Buffy's head jolted backwards as she absorbed the impact. She straightened, and turned her hazel eyes on him once again, glistening with determination, unflinching. She sensed movement behind her and held up a cautionary hand, "Nobody. Moves," she reiterated. "This is about *me* and *him*."

"Not anymore, Buffy," Cordelia protested.

Gunn fought down the urge to dust Angelus himself, or get acquainted with death while he was trying. He knew that thing wasn't Angel, he'd been reminded so many times. His conscience was yelling otherwise. Angelus should die for what he'd done, but Buffy would never let anyone get that close, they all knew that. Angel had too much good left to do and she sure as hell seemed to be set on him coming back to do it. At the end of the day, one of his friends was dead, one of them could still be saved, "Let her," he said quietly.

They watched as Buffy turned to the side and launched a precisely aimed kick at the shadow of her lover, the other half of him, the other half of herself. This would be goodbye.

Fred twirled in circles, filling the silence with girlish giggles, "Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead..."

* * *

Spike reached the door to what he knew was Joyce's old room and, for a moment, he couldn't help thinking about the Slayer's mom. Nice lady. Made a really good cuppa. How had things gone so bloody wrong so fast? He sighed. This was *all* wrong.

He guessed, from the cool, blue light creeping under the door, that Willow must be in there doing all the hocus-pocus curse crap. He found himself wondering what it would be like if it were *him* she was cursing...he knew she was capable of it...and why should his poof of a sire be so special? How would it feel? To have a soul...

Spike: vampire with soul.

Spike: ensouled vampire.

He laughed quietly.

Bloody stupid to even consider it...silly bugger he was, he would lose everything, William would be in the driving seat. Oh and he'd hate to see the balls up that freakish little nobody would make of his unlife.

He finally pushed the door ajar and peered inside. Willow sat cross-legged on the floor surrounded by a circle of smooth, white stones and the weirdest candle light- eerie little bluish flames casting huge, imposing shadows on the walls. The air shifted and trembled, the witch's power radiating in soft, controlled waves...quite a show...Spike was almost nervous, never knew where you were with magick...

As if to prove his point, Willow suddenly threw her head back- or to be more precise- something snapped Willow's head back. Spike stared at her, fascinated, straining to hear her soft, young voice and the ancient words she intoned...just like a real pro.

Without missing a beat, Willow rolled her head to the side and fixed her hard, black eyes on him.

Spike flinched, instinct forcing him to take a step back, then he cursed himself -there was some irony there, he knew- for being such a wuss. He straightened, like his full height would make any difference to the tiny, lethal redhead who sat so calmly in front of him. "Look, Sabrina," he couldn't believe his voice was so shaky, "I'm not gonna get in your way. Just came to tell you to hurry is all. Buffy won't stall him for long."

He closed the door and stood silently in the hallway. His Sire would have his soul, then he could pack his selfless martyr bag and get back on his guilt trip...right back to L.A. where he belonged. Buffy would be devastated all over again. She was going to need help. She was going to need *him*...oh yes, big bad- yet understanding- Spike, would be there to pick up the delicious little Slayer pieces. He would be the one to ease her pain, he would make sure of it...in fact, he knew just how to make the pain go away. Permanently. They could...

Spike lost his train of thought, he couldn't seem to concentrate, Willow's voice had quickly grown louder, piercing the quiet hallway, filling the house with strong, pulsing energy. It would have given Spike a heart attack- if his heart had been beating in the first place. Now the words were clear, not that they meant anything to him for the most part...

"Angel- vasul care-i va transporta Angelus.
Angelus! Beng binak,
Nici mort, nici al finite,
Te bisterdon tumare nav.
O ushalin zhala sar o kam mangela
Te implor, nu ignora!
May angle sar te merel kadi yag,
Bater!"

Spike heard his Sire gasp in agony, despite the distance- whether the sound had travelled or their blood connection allowed him to feel it, he wasn't sure. And he didn't particularly give a damn- it was still his cue. He headed back downstairs, Willow's final words ringing out behind him...

"Tski opre! Tshi opre! Tski opre! Tshi opre!"

What Spike *didn't* hear was the stifled cry that followed, Willow shuddering violently and her muscles began to spasm in turn, her head thrashing desperately as she gulped for air until finally, exhausted, her small, young body went slack and she crumpled to the floor. Cold.

* * *

Fred shrieked, backing away towards the door, "Angel!"

Buffy watched in silence as Angelus stumbled and fell to his knees, his eyes wide, tormented with pain. She felt her throat constrict and her heart pounding even harder than before. How many times would she be forced to see him like this, watch him suffer? He lurched forward, bracing his hands on the floor, panting heavily. Buffy could taste blood in her mouth and realized she had bitten down on her lip and broken the skin, she didn't care, it was nothing, she couldn't share his pain, she couldn't take it from him.

She bit harder.

Spike was soon bounding down the stairs, he almost slammed straight into Tara who had started up towards Willow the second she could see that the curse was complete, "Watch it, love! Am I too late for the show?" he grinned.

Riley lunged for him, holding a hand out to Giles and wishing he had chosen his own weapon more wisely...axe not good in confined space, "Stake!"

Spike threw Riley off with a sweeping backhand that seemed to swing out of it's own accord, "I've just about bloody had enough of you!"

"Spike..."

He looked up.
Fred beckoned to him, whimpering and pouting like a child.

He rolled his eyes with a dramatic sigh, couldn't she see he was finally gonna kick the All-American-Arsehole's Arse?

"What?" he barked testily.

Her face changed, all traces of weakness gone. She appeared to grow instantly taller, her eyes glowing with raw power, her voice commanding, "We're leaving."

Spike's eyebrows shot up in surprise and straight back down into a frown as Riley aimed a stake at his chest and Gunn made to do the same, "What the-!"

Angelus howled in pain once more and the action froze for a split second, every heart- beating or otherwise- wrenched.

They watched in awe as Angel was returned to them, watched the price he had to pay for their need of him, the price he paid for Angelus' sins...

Wesley nodded slowly and turned away, his face calm, unreadable.

No one interfered as Spike backed away, obeying Fred's order, leaving them all behind: the people he had so wanted to rip into tiny shreds on sight, the people he had been forced to rely on, the people he had fought alongside- the people that wanted him dead, or even more so, dust. She took his hand, he could feel her fresh energy, her newborn hunger and it felt like a piece of home, a piece of Dru. He wasn't done yet.

"Soon, Slayer."

Spike's parting words held a promise not a threat, but Buffy, like the others, stood motionless, entranced by the scene before her, unable to tear her eyes away as her lover suffered. He would always be her lover, in her heart, in her dreams, in every way that counted, she wasn't sure that she would remember that, not when she had to face him in reality, not when she might have to hear his goodbye all over again, but it was enough that she knew it at that moment. What would Willow's spell mean for him? For them? Had anything changed? He was still immortal, he was still a vampire, but she had died. He had to know that none of it mattered, that whatever life she had left she wanted to spend with him. He had to. But if he didn't?

Buffy clenched her fists tightly, the tremor in her stomach spread throughout her body, and a sharp pain stabbed at her heart once more as Angel cried out. Unmistakably Angel.

He stilled.

The silence resumed. Angel lifted his gaze and found so many of the characters in his life- old faces and new- staring back. He couldn't remember how-

Oh god no.

His eyes widened. Bewildered. Panicking. For a moment he was desperately afraid. He scanned the group, dismissing each face until he saw her: standing. Beautiful. Alive. Their eyes locked immediately. She looked stricken, something was wrong, something was terribly wrong. But she was here, alive.

Alive.

"Buffy-" his voice cracked, his shoulders sagged in relief as each muscle lost its fight with tension.

Cordelia and Gunn rushed to his side and he allowed them to help him up, guiding him gently towards the living room into a chair, reassuring him that he would be okay. Buffy followed at a distance and he wondered how he had come to be here and why she seemed so far away. Everyone was talking at him, cooing and fussing, he tried to understand what they said, but he couldn't make the words fit- he just wanted to know why she wasn't at his side, what had he done to her? He sat there as the confusion began to settle, vaguely aware of the people around him, and he prayed to every power he could name, every power that *existed*, that he hadn't hurt her.

He let the memories surface slowly, and he let Gunn pat his back brusquely, and he let Cordelia pull him into a suffocating hug, and someone pull off his coat, but not once, not even for the briefest moment, did he take his eyes off his girl. Buffy was alive.

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