PART THREE

 

**********************

 

 PHOENIX BURNING

 

 by Yahtzee

 

 Yahtzee63@aol.com

 

 

 

**********************

 

 

 

Chapter Sixteen

 

"Encore"

 

 

 

"We should totally wake them up," Buffy insisted, towelling her hair with the shroud. "We toasted Kean. The big bad in these parts for thirty years, and the firm of Buffy & Angel toasted him after one week in action."

 

"You toasted him," Angel said as they went through his doors. "I mostly huddled."

 

"You're the one who found him in the first place," Buffy pointed out. "And that whole you're-not-Kean thing? He completely lost face. And then again later, but literally."

 

Angel laughed at that, and she laughed with him, feeling freer and more giddy than she had in years. Since dying? No, before that, she decided. God, she hadn't felt this good since before she turned 17.

 

"Markwith and company will be just as impressed in the morning," Angel said. "And it's not like Kean's going to be causing any more problems, much less before dawn."

 

"Oooh, can't wait to see Frances' face get all squinchy when she learns we got in there ourselves, did it down and dirty," Buffy said. She started to flop down on the sofa, then stopped herself. "Maybe I shouldn't drip holy water all over your furniture."

 

Angel frowned. "Good point. I have some things you could probably wear, at least to get back to your quarters." He slipped back into his bedroom.

 

"Great. Even baggier clothes. My dreams have come true." Buffy caught the dark-gray garments he tossed through the doorway. "Pour me some wine while I change, okay?"

 

Alone in Angel's bathroom, Buffy stripped off her wet things, folded them into a pile, and finished drying her hair with a proper towel. After one brief, doubtful look at her body -- "Do so have breasts," she muttered -- she pulled his tunic over her head. It would be long, even on him; it fell to her knees. "Hey, it's a dress," she said.

 

She came out of the bathroom and spun around, mock-modeling the tunic. "It's the Versace spring collection. What do you think?"

 

Angel smiled at her from his place on the sofa. "Much better on you," he said. He held out a goblet of wine for her.

 

Buffy accepted it and sat by his side, tucking her knees up beneath her. "I should feel bad about this."

 

"Bad about what?"

 

"About -- feeling so good," Buffy said. "When Noor's only just died. And we still don't know who killed her."

 

"New master in town," Angel murmured.

 

"Guess so," Buffy said. "Though, if he's as big a wuss as the last one, I'm not gonna do a whole lot of shaking in terror. But I can't help how I feel. I just feel so -- so right. Like this is exactly what I'm supposed to be doing, and exactly how I'm supposed to do it. I lost that feeling a long time ago." She sipped her wine. "I didn't think I'd ever get it back."

 

"I know what you mean," Angel said. "It slips away from you, slowly, and you don't notice it going." His voice was softer, his expression distant. "And then suddenly you wake up one day, so lost you think you'll never find your way home."

 

"Yeah. That's it exactly." Buffy smiled gently and held her glass up for a toast. "Here's to helping me find the way home."

 

"To helping each other," Angel said, clinking his cup lightly against hers.

 

She drank deeply, enjoying the sweet warmth flowing into her, spreading through her body. She wasn't sure whether it was the wine or the way he was looking at her over the rim of his goblet --

 

Buffy knew she ought to say something, anything, to break the silence. But she didn't, and Angel didn't, and the stillness lay there between them. All Buffy's confusion and longing and hope were swirling up inside her again, and she could feel her pulse quicken inside her chest.

 

Angel could probably hear it too --

 

He half-turned away, and she breathed out with what was becoming all-too-familiar disappointment. But Angel simply put down his cup and turned back to her.

 

Angel brought one hand to her face, traced lightly along the line of her cheekbone. His skin was cool and soft against her own. He looked at her, questioning.

 

Buffy covered his hand with her own. And he pulled her close and kissed her.

 

His lips were hard against hers, at first; he was stiff, uncertain. Buffy spread her hands against his chest and kissed him again, more softly. Angel relaxed into her touch, opened his mouth slightly against hers. His arms slid around her, pulled her close. She could feel his body begin to take on her warmth, feel her heartbeat pounding so hard that he had to feel the thumping against his chest. Buffy dazededly thought that it was as though he were coming alive just from her touch.

 

She wound her arms around his neck so that she could pull herself into his lap. As their bodies touched, Angel seemed to remember -- everything. Just how to kiss her, tracing her lips with his tongue. Just how to tilt her back, hold her just enough off-balance to make her giddy. Her memory was serving as well -- the way he liked to feel her hands run down the length of his back, the way he began breathing deeply, quickly, as if he needed to, as if his body needed air and light and heat just like her own.

 

And her memory was also telling her -- you have to stop.

 

Buffy pushed the thought away, pulled Angel even closer to her. Angel would know when it was time to stop. He always knew when they should stop. Until then --

 

She felt his fingers brush along her bare leg, skin on skin, his hands now warm from touching her. Buffy couldn't stop herself from shivering. Angel responded by kissing her more deeply, more fiercely than before. He let his touch wander the length of her body, tracing the curve of her hips, the small of her back, until he cupped her breasts softly in his hands. His touch was gentle through the thin tunic, more tantalizing than fulfilling.

 

Angel will know when it's time to stop --

 

Buffy twisted within his embrace, slid one leg over so that she was straddling him. Angel's uttered a small, desperate sound that she cut off by leaning down and kissing him again. She put her hands on either side of his face, holding him in place, though he made no move to resist. Two years, she thought, two years and I feel like I'm starving for him. How must he feel?

 

Angel responded by bringing his hands up her back -- beneath her tunic, against her bare body this time; she shuddered, pulled away to gasp in a breath. He nuzzled her jaw, pressed his lips against her throat. He had to feel the humming of her pulse beneath her skin. And then he kissed her softly just at the scar from his bite.

 

Angel will stop, she thought. Angel will stop us in time --

 

He dropped his head back and tugged the tunic up; almost without thinking, Buffy lifted her arms to help him. It fell to the floor, leaving her all but naked in his lap. Angel gazed at her for a long moment, as though drinking in the sight of her. Buffy was suddenly very aware of how long it had been since she'd let him see her without even a bra on, and she could feel herself blushing, though she didn't know whether that was from embarrassment or arousal. God, she thought, the look in his eyes --

 

She kissed him again, tilting her head forward so that there was room between their bodies for his hands to touch her. After a few hungry kisses, he leaned her backwards so his lips could move down her throat to her breasts. Buffy arched her back, let her head drop so that her hair fell down behind her, out of the way of his mouth against her skin.

 

Angel will stop us, he's always the one who stops us, I don't want him to stop but he'll stop and we'll be safe but I don't want him to --

 

At that moment Angel pulled away from her; he was breathing hard, looking up into her face as though trying to find words. Buffy didn't know whether to feel more loss or relief --

 

And then he pulled her closer and stood up. Almost by reflex, Buffy gripped him around his waist with her legs. He held her there for one moment while he kissed her tenderly on her forehead, then carried her into his bedroom.

 

Angel's bedroom was as comfortably cluttered as the rest of his home, at least so far as Buffy could tell in the darkness. The faint light from the front room glinted off swords on the wall, candlesticks on the shelves. He had a large, wooden bed that creaked softly as he lowered her onto the mattress.

 

He knows when to stop. He knows we have to stop. Doesn't he? Did he forget? Has it been so long that he forgot? He couldn't forget that, not ever --

 

Angel moved his hands down the length of her body; even the soft brush of his palm against her stomach felt so good. He slipped his fingertips beneath the waist of her panties, then slowly, deliberately, pulled them down her legs, past her feet, let them drop.

 

Buffy lay there naked, wanting and frightened all at once, and she didn't know which emotion made her tremble as Angel lowered himself over her. The only barrier between them now was his clothes, and once he took those off, she didn't know how long she would be in control of herself. She almost couldn't remember what that felt like, their bodies so close together, but oh, God, she wanted to remember.

 

Angel kissed her passionately, and she could feel herself beginning go dizzy and weak --

 

Buffy pulled her mouth away. "Angel --"

 

"Mmm?" He kissed the corner of her jaw.

 

It killed her to say it, to put out the soft light in his eyes, but she had to. "Angel, we can't."

 

"No, we can't," he murmured. Angel kissed the hollow of her throat, the fragile skin between her breasts, the smoothness of her belly, as he slid down to kneel at the foot of the bed. "But you can."

 

**

 

"Normally, I am opposed to cover bands as a matter of principle," Buffy said. "But these guys kinda rock."

 

Angel tightened his arms around her as they swayed on the dance floor of the Bronze. "They sound good to me. Of course, I didn't even know this was another band's song."

 

Buffy smiled up at him gently. "You're so out of touch you don't even know Lenny Kravitz?"

 

"Is he a friend of yours from school?"

 

Buffy laughed and snuggled against him again. "That would be too weird even for Sunnydale." She watched the band for a moment longer, then frowned. "I didn't know Sumiko could play the guitar."

 

"I think she took lessons from Oz," Angel said seriously.

 

"Anyway, it's about time you got here," Buffy said. "I've been looking for you forever."

 

"You're not looking for me," Angel replied. "You were looking for the exit."

 

Buffy shook her head as the song ended and the audience began to clap. "I wouldn't go without you."

 

"You might have to," Angel said. "I think there might be an exit backstage."

 

The audience just kept on clapping. Sumiko and the band took another set of bows.

 

Buffy stepped forward to check; sure enough, she could see the faint orange glow of an exit sign backstage. "Come on," she said, tugging at Angel's hand. "Let's go."

 

"I can't," Angel said from behind her. "It's sunny outside."

 

"Then we'll wait until nighttime --"

 

"No," Angel said, pulling his hand from Buffy's. "You should go. I want you to be safe."

 

"I am safe," Buffy insisted. "I'm safe if I'm with you --"

 

She turned around, but Angel was gone, swallowed up in the crowds still cheering for Sumiko's band. Frustrated, she went toward the stage -- surely she could get around to the exit if she stayed on the edges --

 

No sooner had Buffy stepped up to the stage, though, than a spotlight suddenly swung down to shine on her. As she blinked in the light, the crowd began cheering anew and chanting, "Solo! Solo! Solo! Solo!"

 

"Oh, my God, no," Buffy muttered. Sumiko gestured toward the microphone. "Wha -- what am I supposed to sing?"

 

"Do you really think the tune matters?" Kean said. He tapped his drumsticks against the cymbals; she heard the faint, metallic shimmer even through the noise of the crowd. "Any song will do."

 

"No," Buffy insisted. "That's not right. I need the right song. And anyway, I don't sing." She leaned over the drum kit and whispered, "This one time, when I had to be in the school talent show? I just did a dramatic scene."

 

"That's the spirit," Kean said enthusiastically. "The play's the thing, wherein you'll catch the conscience of the king."

 

"Is that The Tempest?" Buffy said.

 

Kean sprang at her --

 

Buffy gapsed as she awoke, then breathed out, slowly and evenly. She let her head loll over to one side. Angel lay on his stomach next to her, still sound asleep. Buffy turned over to look at his still face.

 

Peaceful, she decided. He looks peaceful. And, confused and overwhelmed and excited as she still was, Buffy realized she felt peaceful too. Angel had always had that effect on her. No matter the weirdness that surrounded them or their relationship, when she could be with him, just be -- no beasties to fight, no disapproval to endure -- she was always filled with this same sense of deep contentment.

 

Like I'm right where I'm supposed to be, Buffy thought. Like I'm doing exactly what I'm supposed to do.

 

She pulled the covers around her a little more tightly; Angel's room temperature was not ideal for a naked human being. This had the effect of tugging the blanket down slightly from his back. Buffy leaned forward to treat herself to a glimpse; she'd always loved Angel's back. She had managed, during the night, to get his shirt off, though Angel had let her attentions to his body go no further.

 

As she squinted in the darkness, she saw that Angel's tattoo was gone. Wait, she realized, not gone. Just -- faded. The once-dark lines of the gryphon were now the faintest tracings against his pale skin. At least not everything fades, she thought, and leaned forward to brush her lips gently against the place where the tattoo had been.

 

Angel's eyes fluttered open, and he smiled drowsily at her. He threw one of his arms around her and pulled her close. "Warm," he murmured.

 

"Mmm-hmm," Buffy agreed. At the moment, Angel's body was cool against her -- but in a few moments, she knew, he would capture her body heat for her better than any blanket. She kissed his chest, rested her cheek against him.

 

Just when she thought she would fall asleep again, Angel whispered, "How do you feel?"

 

"Tingly all the way down to my toes," Buffy said. "Cozy. Wonderful. But what about you?"

 

"The same."

 

"No," she said softly. "Not the same." Buffy pushed herself back from Angel just enough to look into his eyes. "Angel -- aren't you -- you know -- frustrated?"

 

"Only as much as I need to be," Angel said. "Mostly I'm happy just to be so close to you."

 

Buffy smiled and touched his face with her hand. "I didn't quite get around to saying this last night, but I love you."

 

Angel kissed her palm. "I love you too."

 

"You love me again?" Buffy said, only half-teasing. "Or you love me still?"

 

"Both," Angel said, before pulling her back to him and kissing her soundly.

 

After a long few moments, Buffy tugged away. "Need to breathe --"

 

"I keep forgetting," Angel said, stroking her hair. "I let myself forget how alive you are."

 

Buffy laughed. "What's that supposed to mean?"

 

"Everything," Angel said. His face was serious as he looked into her eyes. "Buffy, I -- hated -- humanity for so many years. Both before I had my soul and after -- I saw nothing in mankind but stupidity, venality, self-interest. But that all changed when I met you and saw that goodness right at the core of you." He smiled at her then. "I believed in you because nothing else was even possible. And once I believed in you, I started seeing the goodness in other people, too. That's what I'd lost. That's what you brought back to me."

 

Buffy touched her hand to his cheek. "I didn't realize,' she said softly. "I never understood that, before."

 

"It was true then," Angel said. "But I meant here, now. Ever since the plagues -- ever since the Council changed -- I've been pulling in. Letting myself not care."

 

"Angel, the Watchers shut you out," Buffy said. "I see it every day. I don't blame you if you don't care about those guys."

 

"There's a lot of truth to that. But it's also true that I stopped trying a long time ago. And it's not even the Watchers I'm talking about, really. I mean those people, out there, trying to make their way in this city. I fought for them as long as the Council would let me fight, but it mattered less and less."

 

"Why?" Buffy said, studying his expression. He met her eyes steadily.

 

"It was easier," Angel said simply. "Seeing what was going on -- it hurt less if I didn't care. But you made me care again. I knew I couldn't fall in love with you without falling in love with all of it again. Humanity. Life. This fight. I wanted to keep it all shut out," he said with a small, rueful laugh. "I had forgotten you enough to think that might be possible."

 

Buffy quirked her mouth at him. "Glad I jogged your memory. Is this how we're gonna be, then? Together like this?"

 

Angel looked serious again. "If that's what you really want. But you know the essential problem for us hasn't changed --"

 

"Don't you start," Buffy said. "If you start up with the whole Buffy-needs-a-normal-life thing, about the picket fence and the chocolate lab and the 2.5 kids, I swear to God I will slam a stake into your chest myself. This century is the total opposite of 'normal life.' So that stuff doesn't matter now."

 

"It might someday," Angel said. "Once you're used to this life."

 

"I'm a Slayer who's already died twice," Buffy said. "I don't put a lot of stock in someday."

 

Angel hugged her to him tightly. After a few moments, he said, "Then this is how it's going to be. More or less."

 

"What's the less?"

 

Angel rolled onto his back, pulling her on top of him. He traced the edge of her face with one fingertip. "Tonight was amazing, Buffy. I want us to have a lot of nights like this. But -- we couldn't --" His expression went distant, and suddenly he looked rather tense. "My willpower's a lot stronger now than when I was younger. But if you were in my bed every night --"

 

"I understand," Buffy said. "Special occasions, birthdays, our anniversary. Hey, you never did tell me your birthday."

 

"You're smiling. You don't mind?"

 

"I do mind. But I mean it; I understand. It's frustrating for me, too -- not being able to touch you, or make you feel as good as you do for me. Don't get me wrong, though. It is not so frustrating that I don't want you to do this a whole, whole, whole lot. I'm just happy with whatever we can have."

 

"Really?" He looked so surprised, so grateful, that Buffy found herself unable to keep back her grin.

 

"We can deal with it. After all, that's why God gave us hands, right?"

 

"Buffy!" Angel's shocked laughter warmed her, and she snuggled against him again.

 

"Okay, that's probably not why God gave us hands. But I won't tell Him if you won't."

 

"June 30th," Angel said, tracing his fingers along her back.

 

"What? Oh, your birthday," Buffy murmured. She laughed a little. "Okay, that's a couple months away. Do Wednesdays count as special occasions?"

 

Angel smiled and pulled her close for a kiss. Then another, and another --

 

A phone rang, so close to her ear that Buffy actually jumped. Angel sighed, then rolled to one side and picked up the receiver. "Hello?"

 

Buffy watched his face change from soft happiness into harshness. "Yes, that's right. And this is a problem?" A pause. "It's not even dawn yet, Markwith. Isn't it just possible that we hadn't gotten to it yet?"

 

She made a questioning face at Angel and mouthed, Is this about Kean? He nodded and rolled his eyes. "When do you want to do this? Good God, Ishak's an old man. He needs his rest --"

 

"Fine, then. Fine." Another pause. Angel looked over at her, then said, more quietly, "Buffy's here with me."

 

A very long pause this time. "You can ask her yourself," Angel said. "What? Fine, we'll be right there." He slammed the phone into its cradle with a crash.

 

Buffy said, "So, should we keep this a secret?"

 

***********

 

 

 

Chapter Eighteen

 

"At the Circus"

 

 

"It looks like the sun's down to me." Xiaoting's voice was tinny over the transport's CB.

 

Buffy glanced back from the driver's seat to look at Angel, who was huddled in the back, away from the faint light still coming in through the windshield. He shook his head. "I told you," he said. "Another four minutes or so. I'll give the signal."

 

"Angel says no," Buffy said into the speaker. "We'll have our cue on the mark, okay? Tell the Watchers to hold their horses. That means to tell them to wait."

 

Sumiko, seated across from Angel, looked over at Buffy curiously. She had her crossbow, holy water and blaster -- but Buffy had seen to it that she also had a sword. "You're gonna watch out for her, right?" Buffy asked Angel.

 

"I will," Angel said. "When I'm not watching out for you."

 

Buffy rechecked her own weapons and opened the door. "You tell the Watchers to roll the first second they can. Then come on out with your face on."

 

"Be careful," Angel said quietly.

 

"Pot, meet kettle," Buffy said. "You watch yourself too, okay?"

 

Angel nodded. Buffy gave him a smile. "See you after the party."

 

She stepped out of the transport and took a good look around at Piccadilly Circus. Once, this area had glittered with electronic signs and hologram billboards. The remnants of these glitzy marvels were dark now, torn with the ravages of age and disuse. Buffy looked up at the statue Angel had told her was of Eros, the god of love. His iron-dark wings were spread against the vivid blue of twilight.

 

One building near the area was occupied. The dim lights shone in the windows, and Buffy could see the shadows of the many people crammed within moving about as they tried to get comfortable for yet another long seige night. Across the way, she could see Agatha and Sky; Agatha was pacing, grim, already in battle mode. Sky stood on tiptoe and waved wildly at Buffy, who grinned and waved back.

 

Sky's such a kid, Buffy thought. Wonder how she fights? Guess I'll find out.

 

The transport's door clanged open. Buffy whirled to see Angel coming out. Behind her she could hear Xiaoting jumping out of her transport across the way as well.

 

And then she heard it.

 

Deep, low shuddering, just at the point between vibration and noise. Rumbling closer, and closer -- the remnants of explosions at Oxford Circus, Leicester Square, Charing Cross and Green Park. The tunnels were collapsing, tumbling in, just as they'd hoped --

 

"Here they come," she whispered.

 

From the depths below came vampires -- one after another after another -- pouring out of the broken-down remains of the subway station. They were dusty, cut-up, furious, already in vamp face just from the rush to escape. As they ran into the open, they began to halt in their tracks and look around wildly.

 

Apparently none of them had expected to come up and find five Slayers -- and one Angel -- waiting for them.

 

For one moment, they were all quiet, almost motionless. Buffy took a deep breath as the wind ruffled her hair. Not quite three dozen, she thought. Gonna be quite a show.

 

Sumiko cried out, her wordless shriek breaking the silence and the stillness as she vaulted toward the vamps and swung her blade. The first vamp was beheaded before the others could even react.

 

Then all hell broke loose. Vamps rushed at them, insane with rage or fear or just being vamps. Buffy stopped thinking and started fighting.

 

Buffy grabbed her crossbow first and started shooting; the up-close-and-personal method was definitely more fun, but there was something to be said for conserving your strength when you were dealing with these kind of numbers. She managed to dust a couple like that -- and, out of the corner of her eye, saw another few go up in smoke thanks to some of the other Slayers' arrows. But then they got too close for the crossbow, and Buffy smiled as she threw her weapon down and clenched her fists.

 

Uppercut, jab, jab, left roundhouse, jab, she's down! Get the stake -- gone. And right side kick, right crescent, left hook, stake and gone! UNH -- turn it into a roll, get on your feet, block left, left front kick, left front kick, DAMMIT, swallow the blood and left hook, right jab, left hook, stake and gone --

 

Buffy sucked in a breath through her cut lips and took one desperate glance around. Agatha was walloping on a vampire twice her height with a gusto Buffy never dreamed her proper friend had in her. Another vamp seemed to have Xiaoting pinned down -- until Angel, with a roar Buffy could hear through the din, tackled him. Sky's fists were flying with a speed and accuracy any of them might have envied; she was smiling as she fought, her grin one of feral bliss. And farther away, she could see Sumiko moving so fast that she was almost a blur, her sword spinning like a helicopter's blades as she slashed her way through.

 

Another vampire sprang at her, and Buffy had to somersault backwards to avoid the metal bar he had clenched in his hand. The force of her leap took her all the way back to what had once been a fountain; four metal statues of horses pranced overhead. As the vampire came at her, Buffy jumped up and locked her hands over one of the horses' forelegs. She swung her legs out to kick the vampire viciously in the gut. Even as he cried out in pain, Buffy brought her feet up to catch him under the chin. He fell to the ground, and Buffy dropped to her knees and staked him in one fluid motion.

 

She stood up again and grinned. Sky was knocking the unliving daylights out of a vamp on his knees, and Sumiko beheaded yet another vampire. Xiaoting was looking around for another one to kill -- and coming up blank.

 

People were hanging out of the windows of the occupied building, pointing at the melee, grinning and cheering. Buffy beamed as she wondered how many runners would carry the good tidings around tonight.

 

As Angel staked his last, and Sky finally finished off her hapless victim, Buffy whispered, "We won." Then she yelled it again, "We won!"

 

"What did you expect?" Xiaoting said.

 

"Five Slayers!" Sky crowed. "And -- and Angel too! They never had a chance, did they?"

 

Sumiko laughed jubliantly and tossed her sword into the air. It spun around, a silver crescent in the night sky, before it flew back to her, handle dropping neatly into Sumiko's hand as though she'd summoned it there.

 

"In 10 minutes, we killed as many vamps as we could all expect to do in a night. And we destroyed a big chunk of their lairs," Buffy said. "Let's see the Council complain about this."

 

**

 

The Council, after endless bickering and dissent about supplying the explosives and risking the Slayers for the Underground assault, was only too happy to take the credit for the mission's success. The Watchers who had dropped the explosives -- including, to Buffy's dismay, that toad McGregor -- were lionized as heroes.

 

But that was nothing compared to the reception the Slayers got.

 

"This is so very exciting," Agatha said, squeezing Buffy's arm as they got into the lift. Agatha's hair had been set in a style she referred to as pincurls; though the overall effect was a little Nellie Olson for Buffy's taste, it was actually rather flattering. "I had so hoped there would be a musicale."

 

"I don't know," Buffy said doubtfully. "I'm not sure the Council's idea of a party is going to match up with mine real well."

 

"Well, you look stunning, if I do say so myself," Agatha said. "The dress is the way you wanted it?"

 

"You're a genius," Buffy said.

 

"You're quite certain that's -- that's meant to be worn alone? That's truly all there is to it?"

 

Buffy took a glance down at the dress Agatha had, despite some hesitation, made for her. It was necessarily very simple -- dark red, sleeveless, with a deep V in the front that showed a little cleavage and a hem that showed a lot of leg. To her, it seemed ordinary enough, but Buffy figured that it looked pretty racy to somebody who'd never showed her ankles in public."Trust me, Agatha. This is exactly how it's supposed to be. You look really nice yourself, too."

 

Agatha smoothed out her wide blue skirts and white bodice. "Oh, this. If I had a corset and some hoops, then I could make something truly grand."

 

"Tell me honestly," Buffy laughed, "do you really miss that corset?"

 

"Not a bit," Agatha said, joining in Buffy's laughter.

 

The lift doors opened, and Buffy grinned. "Oh, this is perfect!"

 

The Council had originally wanted to set up the public celebration outside, as they generally did for such events. But Buffy had protested that Angel deserved to attend too, and couldn't well be part of festivities held outdoors in the afternoon. To her happy surprise, the other Slayers had vigorously backed her up, and Ishak had commanded it. Frances had been heard grumbling about the impossibilities of doing such a thing in the warehouses.

 

But Frances had pulled it off. A number of the Gardens' planters had been moved down just for the event, so dark green leaves ran along the sides of the vast area cleared for the festivities. A band with instruments that looked handmade was playing merrily in one corner. Buffy couldn't have identified the music -- it sounded celtic one minute, bluegrass the next, and then something undefinable altogether. A large number of people were dancing what appeared to be very complicated dances -- long rows of men and women were criss-crossing, joining hands and trading partners with speed. "Guess we can't just get out there and shake our groove things," Buffy said.

 

Agatha was delighted. "Oh, it's like a reel! We can learn the steps easily if we only watch."

 

"You watch," Buffy said with a smile. "I need to find my date."

 

She kept winding her way through the party, enjoying the surprised and even shocked expressions her dress was inspiring. In the land of pyjamas, Buffy decided, it does not take much to stop traffic. People did not throng to her the way they did outside; she sensed that, within the Keep, a greater level of deference was due. But they still lit up at the sight of her, smiled or even waved. The frisson of interest, even celebrity, that surrounded her still bothered Buffy -- even now, when she done something to deserve a little of it, Buffy thought.

 

At last she caught sight of Angel. He was not actually standing in the corner, but he was hovering near the side, obviously uneasy in the group. Buffy wondered how long it had been since he'd attended something like this -- years, she thought. Decades, maybe.

 

Buffy came up behind him, and he didn't hear her until the very last minute. He turned around, and his eyes grew wide.

 

"I heard this rumor that vampires are drawn to bright colors," Buffy said with a slow smile. "Tell me, is it true?"

 

"It's true," he said, returning the grin. "You look beautiful."

 

She went on tiptoe to kiss him. "Come on," she said. "Let's mingle."

 

Angel looked distressed. "I don't mingle. Mingling is not one of my skills."

 

"No, really?" Buffy said, pursing her lips. "I know this. I'm going to help you."

 

"Wouldn't you rather stay over here, just the two of us?" Angel was running his fingertips down her arm.

 

Buffy ignored the little shivers going up her back. "Good try. But this party is for stuff you did, too. You deserve the credit. You deserve to be out there in the middle of it. And you deserve to enjoy yourself."

 

"Those last two are mutually exclusive."

 

"Angel," Buffy said, more serious. "These people need to start seeing you as something besides the monster in the attic. This is about making the Council see what you really are. About everybody seeing that. Once they see you, maybe they'll start to hear you. Are you with me?"

 

Angel sighed. Without much hope, he said, "All right, then."

 

Buffy looped her arm through his and drew him toward the busiest area of the room -- the tables of food. She took a moment to marvel as the behavior of the people who were thronging in and out -- though they were all desperately poor by her standards, struggling to live day to day, none of them even looked twice at the stores of material and tools piled on the shelves pushed against the walls. They did not snatch at the fruit and cheese and bread laid out for them on the table -- they politely took their shares in their turns.

 

Out on the dance floor, she could see Sky merrily bouncing her way through the dance. She'd only asked for the same kind of garments she usually wore, but her tunic was blue and her pants red, rendering her one long, leaping streak of color amid all the gray. On the end of another row was Xiaoting, in a blue dress that covered her neck to wrists to ankles, but was so formfitting as to rival Buffy's dress in shock value. She was stumbling through the steps, messing up at every turn and laughing so hard that the other dancers couldn't help but laugh with her.

 

Ishak caught sight of them and happily motioned them over. Buffy and Angel walked up to the main group of Watchers; Markwith and Frances were there, looking more cheerful than Buffy had ever seen either of them. Sumiko was standing next to Markwith. Buffy smiled as she took in Sumiko's outfit; Agatha, she decided, was a genius. With the help of some sketches from the library, she'd actually made a white kimono -- maybe not perfect, but passable -- with a dark-red obi around the waist. Sumiko had actually done something with her hair for the first time ever; it was swept up in a complicated series of buns that made her look like a geisha.

 

"Splendid, isn't it?" Ishak said. "This is a fine day. A very fine day."

 

"This is how we wanted people to feel," Markwith said. "This is what I hoped the Slayers could bring back to our city."

 

Buffy felt a sting of annoyance; why did Markwith use every chance for PR for his own big plans? Apparently some of what she felt had showed on Angel's face, too. Markwith looked at him and said, "Come, come, Angel. You can't still have objections, not now." He punctuated his comment with a sideways glance at Buffy's skimpy dress.

 

Angel's face showed a mixture of emotions -- jealousy, protectiveness, and distrust -- but then, to Buffy's surprise, relaxed into a rueful smile. "You know how I feel on this matter. But I would be lying if I said I was sorry you'd brought Buffy back. I'm very -- grateful -- to have her here again." He looked down at her gently, and Buffy felt her own grin going all gooey.

 

"That was brilliant, that was," Sky said, panting as she ran up to them. Xiaoting was trialing behind. "Next one's a calenada, Buffy. D'ya wanna have a go?"

 

"No thanks," Buffy said. "Angel doesn't dance -- or has that changed in the last couple centuries?"

 

"That will never change," Angel said solemnly. "But you should dance. I think I remember that you loved it."

 

"There's that memory kicking in," Buffy said. "Maybe later. I want to figure out what I'm doing first."

 

"Knowing what you're doing is completely unncessary," Xiaoting said, ruffling her short hair to cool off. She held a glass of wine in her free hand. "In fact, I would say it interferes with the fun."

 

Agatha also wandered up, nibbling daintily on a thin slice of cheese. Ishak stepped onto a nearby chair and held his hands up for attention. Almost immediately, the room quieted -- the hundreds of people, the band, even the other Watchers. "Good citizens!" Ishak called. Even without the acoustics of the Chamber, Ishak's voice rang out and commanded the room. "We enjoy this time of success and promise as a result of the work of these five women. They returned from the dead to save this world in its hour of greatest need, and we cannot fail to honor their courage!"

 

Applause rang out. Buffy tried not to roll her eyes. Returned from the dead, Buffy thought. Like I had a choice.

 

Ishak opened his mouth to speak again, but Markwith suddenly interrupted him. "And we must also not forget the hard work and loyalty of our very own Slayer!" He held his hands out to indicate Sky, and the room broke into applause yet again. Buffy joined in the applause enthusiastically, as did Angel and the other Slayers. Sky actually ducked her head and grinned. Great, Buffy thought, now I'm gonna have to like Markwith.

 

At the next pause, Ishak once more tried to speak -- when a voice called out, "Begging your pardon, sirs?"

 

Everyone wheeled around to face a bearded man in the crowd. Buffy squinted, then realized she'd seen him before -- he was one of the people who'd been saved from the first burnout she and Angel had seen. The man looked as though he couldn't believe he'd spoken out of turn, but he hesitantly took a step forward and said, "These Slayers have helped me and my family, and I thank them from the bottom of my heart. But we -- we were also helped by Angel there, and I thank him too."

 

For one moment there was silence -- and then the applause began again, just as warm and welcoming as it had been for the others. Buffy beamed over at the man so widely her face almost hurt. Angel looked more uncomfortable than anything else, but he managed to smile and nod his head quickly at the man. "Been a while since that happened," he whispered to Buffy.

 

"I'm good for your image," Buffy said. She glanced over at the others. Markwith was clapping with all the rest.

 

**

 

The celebration went on until about an hour before sunset. Buffy enjoyed herself thoroughly -- dancing when the mood took her, but mostly talking with Angel and her friends. Agatha actually loosened up after a couple glasses of wine, it turned out. Sumiko, after placidly watching the dances for most of the evening, took to the floor at the very end and danced as beautifully and expertly as anyone else. Markwith had watched her with a wide, unguarded smile. Later on, it seemed to Buffy that the two of them left the party around the same time -- though she couldn't be sure.

 

After the celebration's end, nobody seemed to expect the Slayers to be involved with cleanup. So they all sat around and talked some more. Angel, as it turned out, knew a few of the youthful peccadillos of Xiaoting's Watcher and was able to amuse her with several tales. Sky shyly asked him whether he was stronger than plain old ordinary vampires. And Xiaoting made ridiculous kissy faces at Buffy whenever Angel wasn't looking, which invariably reduced a tipsy Agatha to giggles.

 

So, after night fell, Buffy didn't see any point in just going to bed early on their night off --

 

"I should come here more often," Angel murmured into her hair.

 

"Better not let me catch you here with some other girl." She stretched out languidly in the grass and ran one hand down his chest. The leaves above their head showed little glints of starlight in the night sky.

 

"I promise not to kiss other girls in the gardens," Angel promised. "Unless -- maybe Xiaoting's available --" Buffy swatted him playfully on the shoulder, and he grinned.

 

"I can see I need to remind you of my feminine charms," Buffy said. She kissed him again, mouth open, arms pulling him down on top of her. He returned the kiss for a very, very long time. When their lips finally parted, she whispered, "Why don't I finish reminding you back at your place?"

 

"Better not."

 

Buffy frowned. "Why not?"

 

Angel pulled her close and kissed her again. The kiss was hard and hungry, and he caressed her possessively, desperately. When he ended the kiss, he said hoarsely, "Not tonight, Buffy."

 

"Right," Buffy said. "Not tonight."

 

"But soon -- I promise, soon --"

 

Angel looked as broken-up as she felt. Of course, she thought. The nights when we want each other the most are the nights we can be together the least. I hate gypsies, and I hate curses, and I hate having to wish that the man who loves me didn't love me so much.

 

She half-rolled over to hide the disappointment in her eyes, and Angel hugged her from behind. "I mean it, Buffy. I -- I waited a while, because it just came out of nowhere -- and I wanted to be sure -- but now -- "

 

"Shhh," she soothed. Buffy stroked his hand. "You don't have to apologize for what you are."

 

He breathed out, almost a laugh, and shook his head. "I think maybe I do --"

 

"No," Buffy insisted. She rolled over to face him, cupped his chin in her hand. "I want to tell you something. From the first day I found out what you were, I kept asking myself, Why? Why does the love of my life have to be a vampire? Strange things and miracles happen all around us, all the time, but never the miracle that would let you be human. Let you live again. There were times I thought I'd sacrifice my own life to give yours back to you."

 

Angel's face was alight as he looked down at her. "Buffy --"

 

She cut him off. "But now I understand why. It all makes sense. Coming back from the dead, living forever -- it wasn't just your destiny. It was ours."

 

He was quiet, studying her face. She propped up on her elbows and kept talking. "When they took that lock of Noor's hair -- and I knew that they could bring any of us back, again and again and again -- I felt so terrible. Am I just going to have to keep coming back, over and over? Keep dying, over and over? Until the end of time? I -- I still don't like that idea. At all. But at least I know, no matter how many times it happens -- you'll always be here for me. You'll always love me. Maybe that's what we were meant to be. And as unfair as it is, it's so much better than having to go on without you. I love you. And I think I can face coming back, as long as I know you'll be here."

 

Angel hugged her close, burying his face in the curve of her neck. She returned the embrace, let him lower her to the ground. When he lifted his head up again, his eyes were bright, and she touched his cheek. "Angel --"

 

"I'm sorry," he said. "I hadn't thought of it that way."

 

"Doesn't it help, though?" she murmured. "Thinking of it like that? Knowing we'll always be able to come back to each other?"

 

"Yes," he whispered. But there was still something sad in his eyes.

 

She drew him close again, and they lay quietly together for a long time.

 

*****************

 

Chapter Nineteen

 

"The Keeper of the Key"

 

 

 

The next month was filled with as many exhausting work, death-defying battles and difficult situations as any other in Buffy's life -- or, as she sometimes thought of it now, lives. Six nights a week, she and Angel patrolled and fought their hardest. They carried out another four Underground raids, never failing to dust at least 25 vamps at a go and permanently destroying most of the Underground lairs in central London. Already, more above-ground nests were being reported, and Buffy was hatching plans for some daytime burnouts that she figured ought to take a real toll.

 

A few afternoons and evenings a week, she and Angel would be together -- listening to the music he owned, kissing on the sofa, even just curling up next to each other and reading. Buffy was now about two-thirds of the way through "The Keeper of the Key," and she felt that Dawn had written a very good book, even if she wasn't quite sure she understood it.

 

"Why is there always a mirror?" Buffy had said, frowning down at the page. "Every time Anna's searching for her daughter, there's something with a mirror."

 

"It's a motif," Angel had said. He had been sitting on the floor, leaning back against the sofa on which Buffy lay. He reached back and patted her sock-clad feet. "It's symbolic. The answers she hopes to gain from her daughter are really there inside her, all the time."

 

"That's what that means?" Buffy had said. "I mean, of course that's what that means. I just thought she could, you know, vary it up."

 

Angel had smiled at her, and she had leaned forward to kiss him, and the resulting make-out session had led them back into the bedroom for the first and, so far, only time since that original, wonderful night.

 

Most times, of course, they got to kiss a little and then part, unsatisfied. Buffy remembered how difficult that had been back during her senior year, but it was exponentially worse now. Back then she had been a teenager with one night of experience; most of her longings toward Angel were still formless and mysterious. Now, though, she knew exactly what they were missing, knew so many more things that she wanted to give Angel, to share with him --

 

But Buffy forced down her discontentment. Now that she understood, she told herself, it was different. Now that Angel's nature had a purpose in their relationship, it was easier to accept.

 

And even the boundaries on her slaying were becoming less burdensome. Frances generally objected to every innovation Buffy tried to make, and Ishak often backed her up. But Buffy was beginning to get enough flexibility to start making a difference.

 

Her next step, though, would be the most challenging of all.

 

**

 

Buffy unfolded the map. "The British Museum," she said. "I should give some spiel about its history and culture and everything, but for us, it's just a big old stone building with tons of rooms without windows, and therefore the Happiness Hotel for vampires. Has been for decades. Is that right?"

 

The people in the room nodded. Buffy looked around a bit uneasily. She'd never been inside one of the residence buildings before, and she felt she wasn't disguising her shock or dismay very well. People slept four to a mattress, or in hammocks that hung in layers in every corner. People's clothing was drab because there was little room or water for washing. At least a dozen thin, wide-eyed children were watching her from the doorway. She wished for a moment that she could have brought Angel with her -- but no scrap of fabric had been wasted on curtains, and the morning sun provided the only light. Besides, in the interest of trust, it was probably better to come alone --

 

She took a deep breath and continued. "Any conventional attack is pretty much doomed. There's only a few entrances -- thousands of square feet with no windows at all. Conservative estimates put the number of vampires in there in the hundreds. Those are odds we can't beat, even with all the Slayers and Angel working together. That's where you come in."

 

Tam's arms were folded across her chest. "And what is it you want us to do?"

 

"Well, first I'm looking for suggestions," Buffy said carefully. "What would you do?"

 

"I -- suppose -- we might think about setting up barriers," Tam said. She shifted uneasily in her seat.

 

Buffy beamed. "Great idea. Exactly what my friend Willow would have done. What she did do, one time. Totally saved me." Remembering Willow brought a lump to her throat, and she cleared it quickly before continuing. "Barriers would be great. If you and your fellow witches could set up some barriers, cut the vamps off from each other so we could take them out, group by group -- that would really help."

 

A man near the back spoke up. "There's sleep spells too." Tam half-turned to glare at him, but he continued, unrepentant. "They work better on groups than on individuals. During the daytime, I expect the vampires will be asleep anyways, but it would be handy if they couldn't wake up for a while."

 

"They'll snap out of it eventually," Tam warned. "As you kill more sleeping vampires, the strength of the spell will diminish with their numbers."

 

"Totally okay," Buffy said. "Being able to stake any of them in their sleep is a big help."

 

A brief pause followed, and Buffy folded her hands together as she leaned over the table. "So -- are you guys in?"

 

Tam rose quickly from the table, running her hands through her long, dark hair. "The Council's disapproved of us for so long. We've had to practice in secret, hide our whole lives. And now you want us to just come out in the open --"

 

"It's scary," Buffy said. "I spent a lot of my life carrying around some heavy-duty secrets myself. I know what it's like to think the whole world's gonna come crumbling down if you tell the truth."

 

"You are a Slayer," Tam scoffed.

 

"In my day, being a Slayer was not the VIP scene it is today," Buffy said. "I wasn't able to tell anybody. Not even my mom, until I'd been at it almost three years. We didn't get fancy accommodations or a free ride or anything. You just went about your business, like everybody else, all day. School or work or whatever. At night, you stayed up and fought for your life. Nobody knew. They said horrible things would happen if anybody knew."

 

"The Council said that?"asked one of the women nearby.

 

"Said it over, and over, and over, in classic Watcher style." This actually got some smiles from the group; even Tam's worried face started to soften. "I know it's a risk. But think about the benefits. Not only do we kill a whole load of vampires, but we also get to prove how valuable you are. The Council won't know anything about it until it's all done with. And by then, you guys will have helped win the biggest fight in Slayer history, near about."

 

"You really think this might make them lift the ban?" Tam said.

 

"Maybe," Buffy said. "I hope so. They might not let you teach other people yet -- but they'd at least have to let you guys start helping out. And once we win that battle, we can work on winning the war."

 

Tam looked around the room, studying the expressions of those around her. Finally she nodded. "Then we shall join you."

 

Buffy grinned. "Spectacular."

 

"When do you plan on doing this?"

 

"I didn't put it on the calendar without you guys aboard," Buffy said. "But let me run it by everyone. Soon -- a week, maybe? Does that give you time to prepare?"

 

"Certainly," Tam said. "Those who will be helping all know the necessary enchantments very well. And the few herbs and supplies that are necessary are at hand."

 

"Okay, then," Buffy said. "Take a head count, and let me know exactly how many we've got on board."

 

"I think we will all participate," Tam said. "But we move frequently, and we try not to remain in a group. There are others besides the Council who distrust us, and we must be vigilant. So you will need to know how to find us --"

 

"Put together some forwarding addresses, then, because there is no way we're trying this without you. And once we pull this off -- maybe you guys won't have to run anymore."

 

Tam gave her a warm, unguarded smile Buffy hadn't seen since the first day we met. "I'm glad you traded for my wares, Buffy."

 

'Me too. I mean, you should see the dress."

 

**

 

Agatha seemed to like Angel's room quite a bit, particularly when she found some Dickens on a bookshelf. Xiaoting and Sky were obviously trying hard to understand why anyone would live surrounded by so many odds and ends. Sumiko was very taken by the pictures on the walls, particularly Wesley's.

 

Sky shrugged one shoulder in Sumiko's direction. "Tell me again why we invite her to the meetings."

 

"I think she feels better knowing we include her," Buffy said. "Just a hunch."

 

"And at least she doesn't whisper to her neighbors throughout the entire strategy meeting," Agatha scolded. Sky looked faintly abashed and made a show of studying the papers on Angel's table very closely.

 

"You really think the Council will go for this?" Angel said.

 

"They've been cutting us a lot more slack lately," Buffy said. "And you know we've got the results to back it up. Maybe they're starting to see the light."

 

Angel laughed a little. "I've known the Council a lot longer than you have. We're still working within boundaries, Buffy. They may be a little wider now, but you're kidding yourself if you think they're not still there."

 

"I think they'll pitch a fit," Buffy admitted. "But I think they'll end up giving us the go-ahead. And if we can pull off something on this scale --"

 

"Then there's no stopping us." Xiaoting's face was lit up with excitement. "Do you realize, if we keep it up at this rate, the city of London might be a fairly safe place to live in a year or so?"

 

"Safe?" Sky said. Her face was confused, as if she couldn't even wrap her mind around the concept.

 

"Perhaps we'll all be taking moonlight strolls by next spring," Agatha said. "I do so worry about the Museum, though. I suppose the vampires have been very destructive towards the artwork."

 

"I dunno," Buffy said. "Some vamps are into the finer things, aren't they?" She squeezed Angel's arm.

 

"So Buffy uses her famous diplomacy and tact to win over the Council," Xiaoting said, straight-faced. "We make one nighttime run by the Museum -- we can't count on them all being out, but at least from the outside, we can make sure they haven't boarded up any windows or doors that we might want to try to use tactically. Then, on a bright and sunny morning shortly thereafter -- we sweep in there and make the Museum's dusty relics a great deal dustier."

 

"How do we get Angel in, if it's all sunny outside?" Sky said.

 

"I can avoid the sun in the transport," Angel said. "And Kean's shroud should get me from the transport to the doors."

 

"That sounds like a plan," Buffy said.

 

**

 

"That sounds like suicide," Frances said. She was frowning at Buffy across the table of Ishak's Hall. "What can you possibly hope to accomplish against the hundreds -- possibly thousands -- of vampires who dwell in the Museum?"

 

"We've warned people against living anywhere near the Museum -- well, for as long as I can remember," Ishak said. "It would be a blessing to have that wretched nest dealt with. But how can you possibly think to guarantee your safety once you are inside?"

 

Buffy took a deep breath. "I can't tell you."

 

Markwith leaned back and raised his eyebrows. "Oh, now this is rich."

 

"We have a plan," Buffy said. "As plans go, it is an A-plus, biggie-size, first-class plan. But it is also a secret plan."

 

"Secret from us?" Ishak said incredulously.

 

"Yeah," Buffy said. "Even secret from you. I promise that you'll hear all the details after."

 

"Let me guess," Ishak said. "You're not telling us the details now because we would say no."

 

"Oh, I dunno. I mean, you're an open-minded, forward-thinking group of people," Buffy said. "You'd probably be totally on board with it."

 

"I don't understand any of your behavior recently," Frances said. She looked upset -- really upset, Buffy thought, like she might cry. "Yours or Angel's. This -- suicidal wilfulness -- it's maddening. And incomprehensible."

 

Ishak shook his head. "Buffy, you've proved yourself a resourceful, bright girl in your two months here. But you cannot expect us to send all of our greatest fighters on an impossible mission only on your say-so."

 

"I think we should consider it," Markwith said.

 

Even Ishak stared. Buffy finally said, "Aren't you the safety-first methods guy?"

 

"I know success when I see it," Markwith replied. At Frances' disbelieving stare, he sighed. "I'm not saying we should approve it outright. Just -- talk it over. Think about it for a few days."

 

Buffy shifted impatiently in her chair. A few days' delay would mean rescheduling, and by that time, the witches might have scattered again.

 

Of course, she'd intended all along to go ahead with the plan -- with or without Council approval. But it would be a lot easier to get the transports out of the Keep with it.

 

"Very well then," Ishak said heavily. "We will discuss this amongst ourselves. But I warn you, Buffy, approval is far from certain."

 

"Just so long as you're thinking it over," she said cheerfully.

 

The meeting broke up, and Buffy started heading back upstairs. To her surprise, Frances fell into step beside her -- but said nothing.

 

However, when the lift doors closed, Frances turned to face her. "Why wasn't Angel here today?"

 

"The man keeps as many daylight hours as he can," Buffy said. "But he patrols all night, and eventually he's got to sleep. I think he trusts me to handle myself with you guys by now. Why do you ask, Frannie? Worried that I boinked him evil during the night?"

 

"Yes!" Frances said. "I don't understand it at all -- I don't understand you at all --"

 

The lift doors opened on Frances's floor, and Buffy grabbed Frances' elbow and pulled her down the hall. "Where is your room? This way? Come on, then. Frances, if you still have a problem with me and Angel, let's just work it out now, okay?" Buffy said through clenched teeth as they went through the door. "Because I've been dealing with crap about this for three lives now, and I mean it, I am done."

 

"You should be done," Frances said. "But you're not, and I don't understand why --"

 

"What are you blabbing on about?"

 

Frances cried out, "Why isn't Angel human?"

 

Buffy stared at her for a moment. "Because he is a vampire."

 

"He doesn't have to be! Not any longer! I gave you the means -- though it might have cost me everything, I gave you the means, and instead of using it, you inexplicably go on risking us all --"

 

"Back up," Buffy said. "Repeat that. You gave us what?"

 

Frances collapsed onto a chair. "I gave you the blood," she said. "The greatest treasure of the reliquary for a century now. The essence of eternity. Capable of restoring a vampire's humanity."

 

Buffy's rising hopes were fighting with her disbelief. "Okay, Frances," she said carefully. "I think we would remember if you had given us that --"

 

"When I returned Angel's belongings after the spell --"

 

"It was you! You were the one who stole Angel's stuff!" Buffy pointed a finger at her. "Thief."

 

"When I returned Angel's belongings after the spell, Frances repeated, "I put the bottle in there. I knew that he would find it, and I assumed he would use it. Why hasn't he?"

 

"That's what that is?" Buffy said. "That little bottle? I thought that was ink -- but it's blood? Blood that makes Angel human?"

 

"You mean you didn't know?" Frances said incredulously.

 

"I don't remember any instructions on the bottle!" Buffy said. "I didn't know. And Angel didn't know. Oh, my God, when he hears this, he is just going to -- wait a minute."

 

Buffy stared at Frances, and her eyes narrowed. "Wait one minute. You said the Council has had this for a hundred years. They've -- they've had the ability to make Angel human for a century, and they never did it?"

 

Frances nodded, and now she looked shamefaced. "It was in the period just following the plagues. The Council was, well, still trying to create its authority in the eyes of the world. And perhaps the internal politics of the time were a bit Byzantine."

 

"Does that mean lying, sneaking dogs?" Buffy felt sick with outrage. Literally sick. If she didn't scream in a moment, she thought, she might end up vomiting. Or fainting. It was so unspeakably cruel --

 

"Close enough," Frances said miserably. "The records say that a Mohra demon appeared at the Keep -- they'd only just built the Keep, then -- in the dead of night. Angel must have been out patrolling. The Council had thought Mohra demons extinct; this was the very last one. The demon said the Powers had commanded him to come here and be the source of Angel's shanshu. Do you know what that word means?"

 

"I do now," Buffy said. "So what happened?"

 

"They bled the demon and it died, as the Powers had decreed. But the Council members disagreed on whether the blood should actually be given to Angel. The essence of eternity is a powerful thing, Buffy -- it heals wounds, aids in prophecy, empowers magic --"

 

"So they said, Hey, we can use Angel's celestial reward for ourselves," Buffy said. "And they kept it." Frances nodded. Buffy fought the urge to put her fist through a wall. "Did they use it up? Is there even enough to make him alive now? And it's a hundred years old -- what if it's gone bad or something?"

 

"Of course it's not gone bad," Frances snapped. "It's the essence of eternity! It's not going to spoil like some fruit. And they have used a quantity of the blood over the years, but that shouldn't matter. Only the very smallest amount is necessary to effect change."

 

Buffy looked down at Frances. "And you went along with this. When you were in the reliquary, working just across the hall from Angel, all alone with his books, you found out this dirty little secret and decided to keep it."

 

Frances lifted her chin. "I don't question the Council's wisdom on a daily basis, as some do."

 

"The Council's wisdom --"

 

"But," Frances continued resolutely, "the Council, in its wisdom, made me your Watcher. That means I look out for your welfare first, above all things, no matter how reckless you may choose to be with it. When you took up again with Angel, I knew the disastrous results that were possible. I wanted to spare you that possibility. Not to mention the rest of us --"

 

Buffy took a deep breath and forced herself to focus. "Angel can turn human."

 

Frances grabbed at her arm. "No one can know what I've done. They'll suspect eventually, but they must never know. Markwith has no idea I did this, nor Ishak --"

 

"Ishak was in on the secret?" Buffy said weakly.

 

"After he was made leader, he found out," Frances said. "He considered Angel's viewpoint too valuable to lose."

 

"Yeah, you can't go wasting good people's talents by making their dreams come true. That's going to hurt Angel so much --"

 

"Perhaps it won't matter in the end," Frances said. "Surely, after he's become human, he will be too happy not to forgive the past."

 

"I wouldn't count on it," Buffy said. She took another deep breath. "But -- but he will be happy. And so will I. Frances -- thank you. I mean it."

 

"It's a matter of safety," Frances said. "Though I shall be glad to see you both content at last."

 

Buffy's rage still simmered, but it was losing heat and energy to the joy that was beginning to spring up inside her. Angel can turn human, she thought. When I tell him that he can finally be human --

 

"Thank you," Buffy repeated, and ran out the door. She thumped the controls for the lift several dozen times before the doors opened some forty-five seconds later. She punched the control for her floor -- then lost patience for even that brief trip and punched the controls for Angel's floor.

 

As the lift rose, maddeningly slow, Buffy bounced on her heels and thought back to that night in Angel's quarters. To think, he'd just handed that bottle over to her, with no idea --

 

She thought about his face, grave and determined, as he made her take the bottle.

 

He had made her take it away from him.

 

The lift opened, and Buffy hurried down the hall. Angel had cued his lock to her thumbprint weeks ago, and so she just ran through the door and into the bedroom where Angel slept. She jumped onto the bed and started shaking him. "Angel! Angel, wake up.."

 

 "Uhf," Angel said. He rolled over and stared up at her with sleepy eyes. "Nothing is this important before noon."

 

"Wanna bet?" Buffy said. "Angel, wake up. Seriously. We have to talk. Right now."

 

Angel propped himself up on one elbow. "Buffy, what is it?"

 

"Do you remember that bottle you found in your box?" Angel's expression was remote as he nodded. Buffy took a deep breath and said, "Did you know what was in that bottle? What it could do?"

 

After a moment, he simply said, "I knew."

 

*********************

 

 

 

Chapter Twenty

 

"Lost in Translation"

 

 

Buffy stared down at Angel for a moment before repeating slowly, "You knew."

 

"Right."

 

"From the department of obvious questions comes this message -- Why didn't you take it?" Buffy was gesturing wildly at Angel, the door, at some vague area that symbolized the world outside. "How could you do this? How could you refuse to be human -- God, Angel, human! -- without even asking me about it?"

 

"I did what I had to do."

 

"You had to do -- what? Did you just decide that my opinion wouldn't matter?" Hurt and outrage were making her shake now. "Angel, don't you want to be with me? Or does that just not matter to you?"

 

"Buffy, no. It's not that. Don't you see?" Angel said tiredly. "It's a test. Another stupid test for my disloyalty or weakness or whatever they want to find. If I'd used the blood, they'd have thrown me out the next day --"

 

"First of all, nobody's throwing you out while I'm around," Buffy said, angrily ticking off her points on her fingers. "Second, it's not a test. It was -- you can't tell anybody this -- it was Frances. She was worried that you and I were going to -- well, you know. She figured it would be better to give you the blood, so we'd be safe. Which I thought was a pretty damn nice idea. Sorry you don't agree."

 

"She could be lying --"

 

"What is WITH you?" Buffy cried, undone. "This is it, Angel. This miracle I've wished for about a billion times -- we have it. Our big chance, and you can't accept it --"

 

"Buffy, you do not know what the Council is capable of," Angel said. He threw his legs to the side of the bed, paced the length of the room twice before stalking into the front room. Buffy stared at him as she followed; he was as agitated as she'd ever seen him, his body tense and his voice harsh. "The things they've done over the years to try and get me to screw up, to take one little step out of line so they can throw me to the wolves. They caught Spike in Paris, Buffy. There was no reason in hell to bring him back here to die except to see if I'd try to break him out. Dru -- Dru they caught here, but they couldn't just kill her outright. They wanted to try something -- some magic, they said. An experiment, just to see if it works. The experiment failed, of course -- any spell that takes two months to kill a vampire is worthless, no matter how satisfying it is to watch her suffer --"

 

His voice was breaking, but the words kept spilling out. "They'll hurt people, too, Buffy. Naomi -- a woman I -- they exiled her. Trumped-up charges, and they couldn't have had anything against her -- just to see if I'd break -- I would have, too, except that she made me swear --"

 

"Angel," Buffy said soothingly, controlling her own reactions. Her anger was breaking down at the sight of Angel's fear and distrust; she hadn't realized, until this moment, how deep the scars of a century of isolation truly went. She got up slowly, put her hands on his chest. "It's okay. I understand, all right? Just calm down --"

 

Angel shook his head. "You don't understand. Remember why you're here, Buffy. They want to destroy me, and they'll destroy you just to get it done."

 

"Listen to me," Buffy said. "I know why they brought me here. But things have changed since I arrived. Haven't they? You're patrolling again. Watchers besides Ishak are listening to you again. The people out there care about you. You have friends in this building now, and so do I. I happen to believe Frances, but even if she were lying -- it wouldn't matter, Angel. The situation's not the same anymore."

 

"You really think two months is enough to change all that?" Angel smiled a grim, bitter smile. "They tolerate me now because of you."

 

"And I'm not going anywhere," Buffy insisted. "Angel, you're power-freaking here, and if you've been keeping all this bottled up, then I see why. But stop and think for a second, will you? Why wouldn't they want you to --"

 

Buffy's voice trailed off. Ishak, she thought. Ishak likes him better than anybody, and he doesn't want him human. He knew, and he didn't say. Or did he? "Angel, how did you know about the blood? Did -- did somebody tell you about it?"

 

"No, I found out when it turned me human the first time. That day you keep saying never happened? It must have been real after all," Angel sat down heavily on the sofa. Buffy sat beside him. "The way I remember it, I got into a fight with a Mohra demon, and some of his blood got into a wound I had from the battle. Just this small trace of blood, so little I barely noticed it. So little it took hours to turn me human. But it did. Came to find you in the park -- you were standing in the sunshine, and when you turned around and saw me there --"

 

"Okay," Buffy said. "You win, the day happened, the monks erased it or something. But stay focused, all right?" Her mind was spinning as she tried to calculate how much of Angel's fear was paranoia -- and how much was not. Hating the necessity of her words, she spoke slowly, "Angel -- did you know that Ishak knew about this?"

 

He raised his eyebrows, bit down on his lip. "No," he said shortly. Then he shook his head. "That surprises me, and I thought I was past being surprised."

 

"Frances said it was because he thought you were too valuable to lose," Buffy offered, the words sounding even lamer to her now than they had before.

 

Angel started to laugh, a broken, jagged sound that almost scared her. "Do you know what he always says to me, Buffy? He says -- he says I keep him honest."

 

"That bastard. And I thought he was okay." Buffy looked at the still-shaky Angel. "You had to at least want to use it --"

 

Angel pulled himself together, looked at her. "It wasn't hard to resist, at first. I knew it was just another of their tests, a way to get rid of me. The ultimate test, really -- any other time before this, I would have used it. Used it and run away however I could. But there was no way I was going to let them throw me out with you here. You were so scared, Buffy, so lost --"

 

"I remember," she said, taking one of his hands in her own.

 

"Later on it was difficult," he said. "Especially after we were together again, and I wanted you so much. That night after the big festival, I almost broke down. But then you helped me make sense of it all."

 

"I don't remember consulting on this decision."

 

"That's not what I meant.You told me you understood, finally, why I was a vampire -- that we were both condemned to go on forever, but at least we'd have each other --"

 

"Oh, that! Screw that," Buffy said. At his wounded expression, she shook her head. "Angel, don't get me wrong. That thought comforted me a whole lot. But for both of us, that is just the consolation prize. I don't want to hope that maybe, someday, in the 92nd century, we get to see each other again. I want a real life, like anybody else. And I want that life to be with you. We have our chance, Angel."

 

He looked at her, and for the first time she saw a glimmer of hope. But Angel's tone was still serious as he said, "You wouldn't have me to patrol with you or protect you."

 

"First of all, you can patrol and help me just fine as a human," Buffy said. "Xander and Wil and Giles always did, didn't they? And you've got centuries of training and experience they didn't have. Second, we're not exactly short of muscle around here. You can't swing the proverbial dead cat without hitting a Slayer."

 

Angel considered that for a moment. Hesitantly he said, "And -- you really think Frances was telling the truth?"

 

"I'm sure of it."

 

Angel opened his mouth, then closed it again, and she saw the light in his eyes dim. Finally he said, "Did she steal the blood?"

 

"Yeah, she did," Buffy's own spirits dropped as she realized the implications of what Angel had said. If they really were still out to get Angel -- and, after learning about Ishak, Buffy thought Angel's assessment might be right -- then the theft could ruin everything. They could frame Angel, throw him out of the Keep, perhaps out of London -- "They wouldn't put you in jail, would they?"

 

"There are some humans in the Tower, too," Angel said. "Very few crimes will land you there. Betraying the Council is one of them."

 

"There has to be some way to work around this. We need -- leverage," Buffy said. She thought for a few moments, then began to smile. "The Museum raid."

 

"We offer them the Elgin Marbles in trade for the blood?"

 

"Excuse me, I make the inappropriate jokes around here. I mean, the British Museum -- that's big stuff, Angel. If we pull this off, we're going to have killed hundreds of vamps. Wiped out the biggest lair in all of London. And maybe we'll have convinced them to have magic on our side. If we pull that off, Angel -- they'd have to take notice."

 

Angel sat back, considering this. "Something on that scale might make a difference. Though that could only be temporary --"

 

"We only need temporary. Right after we polish it off -- make a big splash, get everybody charged up and happy -- we'll go to Ishak together. We'll just tell him that we know about the blood and we want his permission to use it. We can kinda skim over that little detail where we already have it."

 

"I hope he has the decency to be ashamed of himself," Angel said.

 

"I hope so too. Because if he is ashamed, then he'll just be dying to make himself feel a little less guilty. And he'll say yes."

 

"And if he doesn't?"

 

"We cross that bridge when we come to it," Buffy said. "Maybe you and I take that transport out one night and don't come back. Where else could we go?"

 

"There's -- there's a colony in Manchester -- they might stand against the Council to get a Slayer of their very own --"

 

"Okay then," Buffy said. "We have a plan A and a plan B." She sighed deeply, and then felt her old joy bubble back up inside her. "Angel -- just think -- this time next week, we could be together. I mean --"

 

The slow smile spreading across his face told Buffy that Angel knew exactly what she meant. "At last," he said shakily.

 

Buffy kissed him passionately; he returned her fervor, holding her so tightly she feared for her breath. When their lips parted, she gasped in some oxygen. "About time that shanshu got here --"

 

To her surprise, Angel shook his head. "You shouldn't use that word, Buffy. That's not what it actually means."

 

"Yes it is," Buffy said. "Frances told me. The Mohra demon came to them and said the Powers commanded him to supply the blood for your shanshu. It means turning human after all."

 

"What?" Angel's mouth hung open slightly, and he stood up as if in a daze. "This -- this is shanshu?"

 

"Now in family-size bottles," Buffy said. "Angel?"

 

He didn't answer. He was pacing around the apartment, as if trying to take it all in. Buffy might have been worried if it weren't for the shadow of a smile on his face. Then she saw that he was blinking back tears.

 

Angel caught sight of the portrait of Wesley, and he looked up at it. "They made me doubt you," he said to Wesley's image. "They told me you were wrong, and I believed them. Forgive me."

 

"Angel, are you okay?"

 

He came to her, knelt at her feet. When he spoke, his voice was rough with emotion. "Buffy -- shanshu means more than just turning human. It means -- I'm forgiven. I never thought I could be --"

 

Buffy let him rest his head in her lap, held him as his shoulders started to shake. "You can be forgiven," she whispered. "I could have told you that a long time ago."

 

 **

 

"Hey, Big Aggie, this is Mrs. Gordo, do you copy?"

 

Agatha's voice came over the transport's CB. "Yes, Buffy, I hear you. Why do you persist in using those nicknames?"

 

Instead of steering them carefully through the London streets, Angel was looking at Buffy a little strangely. She sighed. "I guess I'm the only one who grew up watching 'Convoy' in endless reruns on the Superstation. How are you guys doing for the night?"

 

"Xiaoting's been splendid; she took down seven all on her own. I'm afraid my own aim seems to be suffering a bit. Only got three."

 

"That's still three fewer vamps than we had before," Buffy said. "We've still got a while before sunrise. I was thinking this might be a good time to take that recon run by the Museum."

 

Xiaoting spoke over the speaker this time. "I thought we scheduled that for two nights from now."

 

"Well, yeah, but I'm just -- really anxious for this to go well." She glanced at Angel. "Really, really anxious."

 

Agatha had the CB once more. "We shall still need to go back with Sky and Sumiko later, but I suppose it could do no harm to get our first look at the place."

 

"Cool. We can be there in -- what, Angel?"

 

"Maybe ten minutes," he said.

 

"We, ah, copy that," Agatha said. "We are only a few blocks away, and we shall wait for you one block to the north."

 

"Gotcha. Buffy out." She snapped off the speaker and looked back over at Angel, who was once again concentrating on the road. "Any new thoughts on the big night?"

 

He began speaking very quickly. "Of course -- I mean, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't thinking about it a lot -- all the time -- but I don't want to, you know, plan anything. We've waited a long time for this, and we're both bound to be a little nervous, but I think once we have some wine and relax, we're going to -- what?"

 

Buffy made herself stop laughing. "Angel, I meant the attack on the Museum."

 

"Oh. That big night." He looked at her sheepishly as she collapsed into giggles again. "When I'm human again, you'll be able to see me blush."

 

"Yet more to look forward to," Buffy said.

 

When they arrived near the Museum, Angel parked them a few meters from Xiaoting and Agatha's vehicle. The other two Slayers stepped out at the same time Buffy and Angel did. "You know the only place free of vampires in London?" Xiaoting said. "Right here. We haven't seen a vamp go in or out."

 

"Most of them are probably on the town," Buffy said with a frown. "And the only ones left will be the guards, right?"

 

 "Right," Angel agreed, but his voice was distant as he stared down the street at the silent Museum. "You wouldn't leave a nest of this size or quality unguarded. But -- this is weird."

 

"What do you mean?" Buffy said.

 

"Let's get closer," he said.

 

They separated from each other slightly, quietly moved toward the Museum. Buffy began heading toward the south entrance -- she'd check out the windows and doors in back -- when suddenly Angel deviated from the plan. Instead of moving westward, as they'd agreed, he began heading for the main entrance. Agatha motioned over at Buffy, bewildered; Buffy could only shrug.

 

Angel paused at the doors, listening, watching. Then he opened them. What the hell is he doing? Buffy thought. She began hurrying up the steps toward him, to pull him back.

 

Just as she got to the top step, Angel turned back toward her. "They're not here," he said in a normal tone of voice.

 

"Can you please keep it down?" Buffy whispered. "Of course most of them are gone --"

 

"I mean, they're all gone," Angel said. "And they have been for days. There's no smell of fresh blood, or alcohol, or sex. Nothing. They've abandoned it."

 

"What?" Buffy said, her voice at full volume now. And then, a little louder, "You have got to be kidding!"

 

"Are you both fit for Bedlam?" Agatha said, hurrying up behind them, crossbow at the ready. Xiaoting was bounding up the steps right behind her.

 

"They've run away," Buffy said dully. "Angel, are you sure? It's a big building --"

 

"Yeah, but this is the entryway. Any scent that comes into this building comes through here." Angel looked grim. "They're gone."

 

"You mean hundreds of vampires, after spending decades holed up in this place, just decided to leave overnight?" Xiaoting said. "And now they're scattered throughout the city."

 

"No big kill for us," Buffy said. Her disappointment was so great, so overwhelming, that she had to duck her head so the others couldn't see her face. Angel touched her arm, no doubt intending to comfort her, but it only created another pang of loss.

 

"Take heart, Buffy," Agatha said. Though she could have had no inkling as to why Buffy was so disappointed, her motherly nature made her grasp at any means of comfort. "Why -- perhaps they did all go to the same place. A new lair we can find."

 

"Where else would hundreds of vampires go?" Xiaoting snapped.

 

"I can think of places," Angel said. "The Royal Albert Hall, maybe --"

 

"We should investigate," Agatha said. "They may have left clues of some sort."

 

Buffy managed to smile. "I can work with that," she said, pushing the doors open and striding inside. "Follow me --"

 

She felt something pull taut against her ankles, then heard the whoosh of motion and threw her arms up instinctively, protectively. Then she heard screaming, but she didn't know if it was Agatha or Xiaoting or herself --

 

After a couple of black, quiet moments, pain lashed its way up her left arm, shocking her back to her senses. Buffy was lying in the entryway to the Museum; Angel knelt beside her, and behind him Xiaoting and Agatha were staring down. "What the -- ow --"

 

 

 

"Buffy, lie still," Angel said. His voice was grave. "Your arm's torn open, and I think you hit your head pretty hard."

 

"What happened?" she said weakly as Angel finished bandaging up her wound with what had been the sleeve of Xiaoting's tunic.

 

"They set a trap," Agatha said. She leaned over, inspecting the remains of the trap. "They designed it to drop this big rock on whoever opened it --"

 

"The big rock in question used to be the Rosetta Stone," Xiaoting said. "Now it's in pieces. I just love vampires. No offense."

 

"None taken," Angel said. "It didn't hit you head-on, Buffy. If it had, it would have killed you. As it is -- can you move your arm?"

 

She managed to lift it slightly. "It's not broken," she assured him. "But, as an experienced victim of wounds, I can tell you this one's pretty bad. I'll need two or three days to heal."

 

"How's your head?"

 

"Dizzy, but I think I'm concussion-free. I'm only seeing one of each of you."

 

"You're probably weak from blood loss," Angel said. "Can you sit up?"

 

He helped her, and despite an aching in her ribs and a new twinge from her arm, Buffy felt reasonably stable. "Sitting is a go."

 

"Good," Angel said. "I'm getting you back to the Keep. A doctor should look at that arm."

 

"No," Buffy said. "We have to investigate this."

 

"You're in no shape to investigate anything," Angel insisted.

 

"Not arguing that. But think about what we found here. The vampires abandoned their lair overnight. They booby-trapped it before they left. All this just days before we were gonna crash their party. Do you really think that's coincidence?"

 

"Probably not," Xiaoting said. "What do you think it is?"

 

"I hadn't had a whole lot of time to think about it, what with being nearly crushed by falling museum exhibits," Buffy said. "But it looks like somebody warned them. Told them we were coming."

 

The others considered this, their expressions dark. "How well do you know this witch you spoke of?" Agatha said. "Are you certain she is trustworthy?"

 

"I'm sure," Buffy protested, but the deep doubt in the others' faces and the lancing pain in her own arm undercut her belief. "I thought I was sure," she amended.

 

"We'll go with you to talk to them tomorrow," Xiaoting said. "But we can see if there's any evidence here."

 

"And I'll get back to the Keep," Buffy said. "I've watched you steer the transport a lot, Angel. I can do it on my own."

 

Angel shook his head. "You're in no shape for that. Besides, I thought I remembered that you were a terrible driver. Didn't you fail the licensing test?"

 

Buffy thought fast for a moment, then looked innocent. "There goes that memory of yours, playing tricks on you again. No idea where you got that one."

 

Angel stared at her suspiciously. She continued, "I promise not to hold it against you, forgetting what a great driver I am. I mean, 350 years -- it's a long time."

 

"You really shouldn't be alone, hurt like this."

 

"No doubt," Buffy said. "But it's just for a few minutes. I'll take the short way back, off the main road. It's not like I have to worry about traffic. And I really, really want you guys to figure out what happened here."

 

"We will," Angel said. He shifted to her other side, put her good arm around his neck, then lifted her. As he carried her to the transport, he said, "If you get at all confused about how to work the controls, or you start feeling bad, call the Council. Don't wait until it's desperate, all right?" Buffy nodded. "The minute you get inside the Keep, I want you to call Frances to come take a look at that arm."

 

"I will," Buffy said. "What about you, Mr. Protective? There could be other traps. Do you promise to be very, very careful?"

 

He half-smiled at her. "Yes."

 

Once Angel had gotten her into the driver's seat, kissed her and gone on his way, Buffy gingerly started up the transport. Sure enough, the simple steps she remembered got the vehicle moving right away. "And they never gave me a driver's license in California," she said. "Fools."

 

She steered quickly toward the Keep. Buffy grimaced as she realized that her path would take her right by the building Tam was living in; it would take all her willpower not to jump out and start screaming bloody murder. In her heart of hearts, Buffy felt that Tam herself hadn't revealed their secret. Something about the woman's gentle, fearful face just didn't match up with the idea of conspiring with vampires. But Tam had claimed that all her friends were trustworthy, and that obviously wasn't the case.

 

 Time to start yelling about betrayal in the morning, Buffy thought. And how come they don't mount some flamethrowers on these transports? That would be terrific.

 

As she rounded a slight bend in the road near Tam's building, Buffy gasped. "Oh, God," she whispered. "Not another burnout."

 

But there was no denying what she saw. People were running, screaming, carrying what few belongings they owned in their arms. They ran about wildly, obviously seeking any place that might offer shelter from the dangerous night. Yet none of them ran toward the transport.

 

No, no, no, Buffy thought. Whoever betrayed us -- they turned in Tam and her friends, too. The vampires are after all of us --

 

At that moment, Tam staggered into the street. She was bleeding from a wound to her head, but she kept moving. She was only a few feet away --

 

"Dammit," Buffy said. She stopped the transport and jumped out, ignoring the rush of dizziness brought on by moving so quickly. "Tam!" she called. "Tam! Quick! Get in!"

 

Tam stared at her as if from a great distance. Then her face twisted in rage. "You convinced me to trust you," Tam said, her voice shaking. "I should have known better."

 

"Tam?" Buffy said, disbelieving. She fumbled at her belt for her blaster, in case any vampires attacked. The blaster fell from her clumsy, numb hand, and Buffy instead pulled a stake from her belt. Tam took two steps back, her face a mask of terror. "Tam, please!" Buffy pleaded. "What's going on?"

 

Tam opened her mouth to answer, then cried out and clutched her chest. Buffy stared, aghast, at the arrow that was pointing through Tam's flesh, at the spray of blood flowing down her body.

 

Tam's eyes looked at her accusingly, then went dim. Her body fell, face forward, into the ground.

 

Behind her, crossbow at the ready, was Sky.

 

**************************

 

 

 

PART FIVE

 

 

 



| Fiction Index | Home Page | Back |