Building A Mystery

SERIES: Faithfully Departed, #1

BY: Zorya

EMAIL: kuan_yin@hotmail.com

DISCLAIMER: Don't own the characters ('cept Aidan and Kiara and Gabriel and that wacky Professor Crandell) Everyone else is property of Joss and the WB and Mutant Enemy and all those rich execs. Songs are not mine either (as if you couldn't tell, you sly dog, you)

K.D. Lang - "Love Affair"

Depeche Mode - "Only When I Lose Myself" and "It's No Good"

The Communards - "Lovers and Friends"

Sarah McLachlan - "Do What You Have To Do" and "Building A Mystery"

Dido - "Here With Me"

(yes, I'm a music whore.)

DISTRIBUTION: Ask first, please.

RATING: NC-17 (over-all)

CATEGORY: B/A, A(us)/? (give it a chance...c'mon...I'd never break up B/A for good!), S/?, W/O, J/G

SPOILERS: Takes place a few months after GD2. There are no real specifics. But in my world, the events of Band Candy don't take place until way later (or at least enough time so that by the time Buffy's in college, Joyce could have a bun in the oven and not have anyone be able to tell)

SUMMARY: Buffy travels to L.A. to save Angel from losing his soul once again. A mysterious stranger has an interesting effect on all of the Scooby Gang's lives.

FEEDBACK/COMMENTS: Ok, this is the first Buffy fan fic I ever wrote. So...I dunno. If you people aren't liking it, please tell me and I'll discontinue sending it out.

It was dark. The waning moonlight bounced off the walls of the semi-small room. A soft moan escaped her parted lips as she tossed and turned in her bed, sleeping fitfully.

Pictures took form in her mind. She was running, running, with nowhere to go. Dull brick walls surrounded her, gray and dark blue in the hazy light of her dream. Her breathing was labored as she continued to move. She threw a glance over her shoulder, noting nothing visible. Suddenly she ran into something solid and fell back a few paces. Without a second thought, she crouched down, ready to strike. As she looked up she realized it was Whistler standing before her. He stood silently, merely watching her. With a wary glance behind her she straightened and returned her attention to him.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, her breath still coming in pants.

"And here I thought I was a frequent focal point in many young girls' fantasies," he chided her.

She hedged around him, positioning him between her and whatever was apparently chasing her.

"I take it this is a dream then."

"You make it sound like a bad thing," he replied wryly. He shrugged and swept a glance over her. "You can't run from these demons, Buffy."

She tossed him a scathing look. "Oh? In case you hadn't noticed I'm a Slayer. I don't run from demons, I slay them. Hence the whole *Slayer* thing."

"You know what I'm talking about. These are *your* demons. They don't plague the world. You have no one to save from them but yourself. And you can't do that, can you?"

Her stance was defensive as she continued. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Whistler regarded her in a patient manner. His tone was light as he spoke. "But you do, my dear girl. I wouldn't normally involve myself in simple matters of the heart."

"And that would mean you're in my dreams because?"

"I'm here to keep the relative balance between good and evil. You know that."

She crossed her arms over her chest as she awaited his explanation with poorly feigned patience.

He smiled slightly as he watched her countenance. "It doesn't matter if you're with him or not. You do realize that, don't you? Angelus is a force to be reckoned with. And he will turn again. It's just a matter of time."

She turned her gaze to meet his eyes, her expression melting to that of shock. "B- but...he has no reason to. As long as he doesn't experience true happiness...well. We're not together. So I can't push him over the edge. He can't revert to his former self."

He nodded sagely. "You're correct in most of those assumptions. But change he will. And it's up to you to save him. He needs you. And just as I led him to you, now I'm leading you to him."

"And why should I believe this isn't last night's pizza speaking?" Buffy asked, finally fed up with his enigmatic messages.

Remaining unmoved by her words, he continued. "There is a woman. You do not know her yet. Trust her. She can help you."

She scowled up at him. "Well thanks for the enlightenment and insight. Now can you please get out of my dreams?"

"You won't like her. But she means you no harm."

"Look, I'm pretty sure I have to get up soon. So I'd appreciate it if I could get just a bit of rest before I'm off to save the world again..."

He disregarded her as if she had never spoken. "You know where he is. Go to him as soon as possible. You'll understand soon."

In a flash of white light, Buffy sat straight up in her bed. Immediately the alarm clock began to sound. To her right, Willow began to stir. As she looked at the time, she groaned.

She snatched up her pillow and pinned it over her head as she flopped back down on her bed.

* * *

They sat in the lecture hall along with three hundred other freshman college students. The professor stood center stage as he droned on and on about ancient theologies. Buffy dozed off as she tuned the teacher out. Impatiently Willow nudged her with her elbow. Buffy jumped, startling many of the students around her. As they turned to look at her, she blushed lightly and sank down into her seat.

"So we see that in early Chinese history, there was a focus on beaurocracy rather than actual religion....," Professor Crandell lectured, continuing his monotonous litany.

"Rough night?" Willow whispered to her.

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah. Basically the same dream I've been having for the past month."

Willow turned to her, worry shining in her eyes. "The one where you're being chased?"

"That's the one," she said with a nod.

"You know, maybe-maybe I could help you. Maybe there's a-a hidden meaning -"

"No. I think it's more of a prophetic type of thing. It was...different last night," Buffy began. She paused for a moment and looked over to Willow. Her voice was low when she continued. "Whistler was in it. And he...he warned me about Angelus returning."

Willow's eyes got wide and she gulped loudly. Buffy noticed and felt a need to put Willow at ease. "Which is stupid because we all know Angel can't change unless he gets a happy and, well.... Well. He has no reason to become Crazy Stalker Guy again."

Willow's voice was quiet, "But-but...you think it's worth looking into?"

She nodded reluctantly. "Anything is worth looking into if it prevents that from happening." She hastily corrected herself. "I mean, on a purely theoretical level."

Meanwhile Professor Crandell was drawing the class to a close. "So read chapters five through ten and there will be an exam next Friday. Have a nice weekend."

The students began to gather their things and wander out of the room. Willow and Buffy picked up their books and turned to walk out the back entrance of the room. Buffy noticed how withdrawn Willow was acting.

"So. Anyway. You and Oz doing anything special tonight?" she asked with a grin.

Willow smiled indulgently. "Yeah. He...I...we...we're going to spend the night at the beach."

Buffy frowned. "Well...just be careful. Don't forget to bring protection."

Willow's face blossomed bright red as she turned to Buffy. "Wha-what?" Buffy looked at her oddly. "Oh! Oh, right. Yeah. Extra stakes already packed. Crosses and holy water too." She grinned weakly.

Buffy shot her a knowing grin and Willow hurried to change the subject.

"What about you?"

"Well, I'm going to patrol for a while. But things seem to be slow recently. Not that it gives me a warm and fuzzy. Then I have an intimate weekend planned with Chapters 5 through 10," she wiggled her eyebrows suggestively and grinned.

"You're going to call him," Willow said matter-of-factly.

With a sigh she replied. "Yes. I just...I just want to make sure things are ok."

Willow nodded. "That's probably a good idea. I mean, rather be safe the sorry, right?"

The paused in front of the steps of the dormitory. Buffy dropped her gaze to the ground.

"I don't have a good feeling about this, Will."

"Why don't you talk to Giles about it? He might be able to find something on what else might be able to change Angel," she suggested.

She raised her head and looked around. All of the students were walking around, seemingly carefree. She nodded. "It's worth a shot." She grinned wryly. "Yay. Yet another few hours of wallowing in the depths of ancient history."

Willow gave her a sympathetic look, then took a deep breath. "Well. I need to go pack the rest of my gear. You know, can't forget the toothpaste."

"Yeah. Icky morning mouth can be a real mood killer."

Willow reached out to pat her arm. "It's going to be fine. Everything is going really well. And-and...everybody's happy and we all have our own niche. Niches are very important, you know." She smiled one last time and ran inside. Buffy wrapped her arms around her books as she watched after Willow.

"It's going to be fine. Everything is going really well. That's what worries me," she muttered under her breath.

* * *

The sky was clear, but the shadows seemed even denser this night. Boxes and trash spilled over into the alley from the dumpster behind the bar. As Angel leaned forward to stake one vampire, another one stalked him from behind. As the one in front of him exploded into dust, Angel quickly spun around, his fist connecting violently with the second vamp's nose. As he caught him off guard, Angel plunged the stake into it's heart.

"I don't know why you do it. I mean, wasting a perfectly good night *behind* a bar instead of inside. I don't even know why I continue to dress up. It's not like any worthy man is going to be seeing me," Cordelia whined.

He raised his head, an incredulous look passing over his flawless features. "Go home Cordelia," he told her.

"Excuse me? And let you have all the fun?" she asked. She rolled her eyes and surveyed their dreary surroundings.

Angel was not paying attention to her. He gazed pensively at the stake in his hand. "You're right. You don't belong here."

Her voice was overly saccharine as she turned to him. "Why Angel. I didn't know you cared."

He finally looked up at her. "Did you notice anything different about these?"

Cordy arched a finely sculpted brow. "Big fangs. Bad hair. No, not really."

Angel rolled his eyes, mimicking her action of earlier. His tone was firm as he spoke again. "Go home. Something's not right here. Things have just been getting crazier around here and I need to find out why. And I'm not going to get anywhere with you around. I won't have you getting hurt again."

"Look, I can take care of myself," she told him as she stood up to him defiantly. He shot her a doubtful look. She placed her hands on her hips and her eyes sparked with anger as she countered him. "Why does everyone think I'm not capable of handling these situations. Hello?!?! Didn't I spend the last three years fighting those big, bad Hellmouth-y creatures right along with the rest of you? So I'm not Little Miss Stakes-A-Lot. But *I* can bring down a Versace sales associate with only a look. So don't tell me I'm not good in the face of confrontation."

His tone was dry as he spoke to her, though inside he conceded that she probably was a force to be reckoned with - given the right incentive. "Well the next time I need a makeover, I'll give you a call. But for now I mean it. Go."

She grumbled in discontent. "Fine. Be that way." She straightened the hem of her short skirt and began to stalk off. She stopped about twenty paces off and turned towards him slightly. "Same time tomorrow night?"

Angel noticed her hopeful look and nodded, hiding a grin. "Yeah. I'll meet you at the office." As she moved out of view he muttered to himself. He paced around the area where the vampires had been. The creatures were becoming lazy of late. They were unprepared and practically crazed. They were acting on instinct rather than intellect. It almost seemed as if they were becoming mentally unstable.....by fear.

He walked out of the alley and paused as he heard a noise. Nothing remained but an empty darkness. He began to cautiously make his way home, keeping extremely alert. As he reached his apartment door he looked over his shoulder suspiciously. A lone black cat ran across the street. Everything was silent. He opened the door and stepped inside. As he flipped on the light switch, he set his dark trench over the back of the old armchair next to the door. He looked out over the spacious room, open and sparsely furnished. With a soft sound he walked out of the side glass doors into the small courtyard. A small breeze stirred over him as he moved out into the otherwise still night. A shiver ran down his back. A shadow hovered near the wrought iron gate.

"Who's there?" he asked, suddenly feeling an extra presence. Only silence answered him.

He walked towards the entrance at the back, where the shadow stayed. His hand moved to the stake in his back pocket.

"Come out now and I'll let you live long enough to tell me what you're doing here."

Again, only silence. The air was hot and muggy as he moved into the dense darkness of the makeshift jungle. The light scent of jasmine surrounded him momentarily. As he reached the place where the shadow was, he punched outward. The black cat hissed and jumped at him. As he swerved it ran past him through the plants and out of the gate. With a soft laugh at himself he replaced the stake in his back pocket. As he turned to go back inside, a soft voice sounded behind him.

"Nice reflexes," it said, husky and low, but decidedly feminine.

Angel spun around and threw the stake towards the sound of the voice. She caught it in her hand and tossed it back to him.

"Now just imagine how bad it would have been if I were an unsuspecting mortal," she said, her voice faintly mocking.

His own voice was a mixture of suspicion, wariness and derision as he spoke. "Seeing as how you're trespassing, you could hardly be described as unsuspecting."

"Perhaps."

"Who are you?" he asked again.

She turned from him and walked into his apartment. He followed her, stake still in hand. She moved into his kitchen and pulled down a glass form his cabinet. She filled it with water and took a slow, deliberate sip before turning to face him.

"You seem overly familiar with this place," he said discontentedly.

"I've looked around," she replied simply.

Angel was becoming increasingly annoyed. But as she turned, his eyes opened wide. She leaned against the counter and crossed her arms over her chest. He opened his mouth as memories came flooding back to him. He shook his head in disbelief and she set the glass down.

"Remember me?"

"It can't be you."

Her silver gaze looked at him inquisitively. "Why not? Did you really think I'd be as easy to break as poor little Dru?"

He exhaled deeply. "Kiara?"

She walked up to him and placed her hands lightly upon his chest. "The one and only."

He backed away, a look of horror on his handsome face. She dropped her hands to her side and looked at him sadly.

"Good or evil, you never could bring yourself to understand me, could you?"

"What do you want?" he asked harshly.

Her voice was low and soothing as she spoke. "I want to help you."

He scoffed. "Help me what? Drive the stake into my heart?"

Kiara reached out to him, but her shook his head and moved back.

"What do you think I am?" she asked, hurt evident in her voice.

"I don't know. I never knew."

"Then can you at least tell me why you seem to fear me?"

Angel remained silent.

She nodded, understanding. "If you think I'm here to extract vengeance, you're wrong. You never could comprehend what I was about. But despite what you think, I'm here to help you. And you can't escape that."

He made his way to the door. "Oh, I think I can."

"It'll only be more painful if you don't cooperate. I know what you're going through. And yet, even now you can't listen with your heart and not your head."

He turned back to her. "I don't know what the hell you're talking about."

She sighed. "Then sit down. Listen to me."

He looked at her, disbelievingly. "And why should I?"

She looked at him, her light eyes regarding him wearily. "Because you owe me that much," she told him quietly.

He stood still for a long moment. Then with one last glance outside he closed the door and walked back inside. He moved to the single sofa in his living room, hanging his head, knowing he had just sealed his fate.

***

Kiara stood in front of the lit fireplace. It's light illuminated the deep blue silk of her dress and her soft, tanned skin. Angel sat on his sofa, his elbows propped up on his knees, his forehead resting in his upturned palms. Her long, silken black hair cascaded over her shoulders as she bowed her head. She remained pensive, wondering where to begin. Minutes passed.

"I'm sorry," Angel whispered, breaking the silence.

She looked up at him, her gaze saddened as she sensed his pain. "I know," she replied, her voice soft.

He looked up at her, guilt, anger and hope all shining in his dark eyes. "How can you?" he laughed hollowly. "How can you stand there and think you know how this feels?" He hesitated momentarily. His voice was emotionless as he began again. "You were dead." Memories flashed through his mind in bright bursts as he sat there: Kiara laughing up at him. Kiara looking at him with the unmistakable glow of love in her silver eyes. Kiara dancing with him in the moonlight. Kiara chained to her open terrace, pain in her soft gaze as the sun began to rise. "You were dead...." he stated, though there was a hesitant question in his tone.

"You of all people should know appearances aren't always what they seem," she stated quietly, feeling his inner turmoil.

"Well you sure as hell aren't human, or else you look really great for 441." He scowled up at her. "So what I want to know is how you escaped from certain death." *And why I never knew you were still alive* he thought to himself.

She considered his request. "Death's a tricky thing these days. I hear even you came back after a brief interim in Hell."

"How did you know -"

"News travels fast in our circles," she offered as a lame explanation.

She paced back and forth in front of the mantle. There was a brief silence. "There's so much you never knew about me." A bittersweet smile crossed her lips. "Much you never took the time to find out."

He looked up at her, his face haggard. "Kiara.... I can't ever ask you to forgive me. It's hard to explain -"

"Don't bother," she said sharply. After a brief hesitation she turned to him, much softer. "I mean, I knew why you did it."

"Did you?"

She disregarded his question. "You can't kill me." She grinned. "Much to the bane of many others, it just can't be done. Not until I've accomplished what I'm here to do."

"What you're here to do? I assume you mean that in a general sense, seeing as how I obviously couldn't kill you back then either?" he asked contritely.

She shrugged and again didn't answer him. She looked at him deeply until he was forced to look away from the intensity of her gaze.

Her voice was low as she spoke. "I loved you."

"I know."

"I still do."

Angel looked up and opened his mouth to speak. She cut him off.

"I know you've found love," Kiara said. "She's a lovely girl. Smart. Savvy. Beautiful. A Slayer." He quirked a brow and she nodded. "Yes, I've seen her. Many times. I've no doubt she's good for you." She looked around his lonely apartment. "Or she would be...."

"We can't be together," he explained, defensively.

She laughed softly. "You don't get as far as I have and not know the rules, Angel. I know why you're not together."

Angel stood and paced the length of the room, stopping to stand in front of the open glass doors leading to the courtyard. "And why is that?" he asked nonchalantly.

She waited for what seemed like an eternity before answering him, her gaze wandering completely over his form; a loving, yearning, saddened look in her eyes.

"You can't trust yourself to be with her."

* * *

Buffy sat on her bed, history books opened and strewn over the top. She leaned back into her pillows and listened to the radio. The phone was cradled in her lap. Her eyes closed as she thought to herself.

*It's late. It's almost 12.*

*Which just happens to be about lunch time for him,* the second voice in her head stated.

Her eyes flew open decisively and she picked up the receiver to begin dialing.

Skies without stars

All the nights without you

I watched the world

From a room without a view...

She set the phone back down with a groan. She couldn't even get through the whole number before chickening out. With a sigh she turned her head, her gaze connecting to the framed picture of Willow, Xander and her on her nightstand. She reached out and let her fingertips trail lightly over the cool glass.

For you left me

With so few memories

That I could close my eyes

And cling to

Just a fading photograph

I sometimes sing to....

Again she picked up the phone, determined this time. She dialed the number. *Pick up, pick up, please pick up* she thought. On the fifth ring someone picked up.

"Hello?"

Buffy remained silent, cursing herself for being susceptible to that voice.

"Hello?" she heard Angel say again.

She hung up the phone quickly. With a frustrated sigh she flopped backwards onto the bed. She reached out blindly and fumbled around for the remote for a minute, then found it and switched on the TV As she curled up with her pillow, the phone rang. Startled, she bolted upright, knocking everything from her bed in her scramble to reach the phone. Hesitantly she picked up the phone, too nervous to say anything.

"H-hello? Is anyone there? B-Buffy?" she heard Giles' voice at the other end of the line.

She took a deep breath and answered him, her voice carrying her disappointment.

"Oh. Giles. Ummm...yeah. I'm here."

"Did I call at a bad time? Where you expecting someone else?"

"N-n-no. I, uhhh....I was just watching a scary movie," she finished lamely.

"Ah, yes. Well. I see. Well, is there any possibility that you could meet me at the library now? I know you have your studying to do, but I think I may have...have found something dealing with your question of earlier. About Angel."

Buffy gripped the phone tightly. "I'll be right there." With that she hung up the phone and rushed out of her room.

Giles sat in his office, staring at the recently dead phone, a look of bemusement on his face. On his desk was a printout of the Restoration spell, a book entitled "The A to Z of Angels and Demons", an open book entitled "Lost Souls", a book of mythology of angels, a report of "angels" from the Watcher's Council records, and an old, weathered sketch of Kiara.

* * *

She ran into the library, letting the doors slam closed behind her. As she skidded to a halt she noticed the disapproving looks of the librarians and patrons near her. With a casual shrug of apology she looked around, easily noticing Giles despite the dark atmosphere.

Giles watched her entrance ruefully before standing to gather his bag of books. After making sure that she was in following distance, he wove his way through the aisles and aisles of books. As he neared the back of the dim, cavernous library he spotted the isolated table he was searching for. He set his bag on the table and moments later Buffy arrived at the small alcove.

"Wow Giles. Do you really think this is private enough? I mean, I think I saw Jimmy Hoffa back there...."

He arched a brow and nodded to the seat across from him.

"So what's the what?" she asked as she settled in. He couldn't help but notice how tense she was.

"Well, I, uh, I think I may have found something to do with Angel's transformation. I mean, that is, I've found a prophecy-"

She perked up instantly. "Prophecy? What prophecy? Why am I always the last one to know about these things?"

"Like I said, I may have found it.....that is, I'm not certain it has to do with Angel. And I have, uh, have not yet affirmed my translation of such-"

She cut him off again. "So you're telling me we may or may not have a prophecy about Angel and it may or may not say what you think it says? Way to go, Giles. Nothing like staying ahead in the game."

He glowered at her. "Are you quite finished yet?"

"Translate me. I'm practically breathless with antici.................pation." She grinned. He frowned and slipped off his glasses, bowing his head as he wiped them off. She sighed and muttered, "I'm quite finished yet."

He slid his glasses back on and withdrew the books from his bag. Buffy looked at them skeptically.

"'The A to Z of Angels and Demons'? 'Fact and Fiction of Angels and other Spiritual Sightings'? Ummm, Giles? Correct me if I'm wrong here, but I don't think we need to take Angel's name *quite* so literally." He shot her another look and she lifted her hands in submission. "I'm hushing, I'm hushing."

"As I was saying before, I wasn't quite certain as to whether or not this precise prophecy would pertain to Angel or not. But upon further investigation to the Watcher's Council diaries and reports, I found proof of a demon that seemingly defies any other demon I've ever encountered. Now," he withdrew the codex and opened it, pointing out the page he was referring to. "This is, uh, this is what I've translated it to, to say: When Angel and Demon shall meet on the battlefield, one soul will be acquired. Blood is mightier than the death of the Chosen. Blood binds three, and three bind blood. And in exchange shall the curse be lifted."

Buffy looked up at him, confusion plain on her face. "So what's it? In English, please?"

Giles took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'm not sure."

"You're not sure?" she asked incredulously. "And while we're on that page, what's all this 'death of the Chosen' stuff? I'm not quite sure I like the sound of that."

Giles flipped through one of the Watcher's diaries and handed the book to Buffy. She set the book upon the table and looked at the old sketch. It was done impeccably, with simple lines used to portray the pure beauty of its subject. Her eyes scanned the parchment, noting the dark hair and twinkling eyes. The supple lips curled in such a secretive smile that Buffy wanted to smile back at her in order to try to gain the secret. She had the distinct feeling that this drawing had been done by the girl's lover, such a look of love and desire was held in those light eyes. She looked up at Giles. "Lemme guess? Penthouse, 1650? And to think I thought you Watchers were all prudes."

He rolled his eyes at her flippant tone. "Her name was Kiara. It is unknown as to when she was actually turned. However, stories of her began to surface around 1580. She was cruel. One of the deadliest demons ever, as I hear it." Buffy arched her brows dubiously. He noticed. "She killed for pleasure. She was utterly carefree. Streets literally ran with tides of blood in the villages she stayed. Think Angelus multiplied by one hundred. But...she was never caught. She was always one step ahead of our Slayers." Buffy listened to his words and looked down at the smiling girl in the picture, unable to believe they were one and the same person. But Giles was still droning on. "- for about a hundred years. Then, all information of her whereabouts and activities ceased. It was as if she just disappeared. The Council assumed she was killed."

Buffy looked up at him, then at his watch. It was almost 2. "So what's this have to do with Angel?"

Giles messaged his temples and continued. "Well, ah, around the 1790's, when Angelus was in his hey-day, there is mention of a woman he associated with. Actually, there's quite a bit of mention. It seems as if the two were inseparable for almost five years. Albeit, not long in demon chronology. Well, this of course caught the Watchers' attention, given Angelus' ever growing reputation. Reports came in that she was this, er, long lost vampire. However, as Angelus' tirade continued, she never seemed to be a part of any of it. They were seen numerous times in various locations. Sometimes together, sometimes not. But always a spectacle. Interestingly enough, they did not hide out, but reveled in the luxuriant parties thrown by the wealthy and famous of the times." He paused.

"Could she have been the mastermind behind him?" Buffy asked.

Giles considered her question. "Actually, it's been speculated upon gratuitously. Many of the Watcher's Council believe it to be so."

Buffy looked down at the drawing, seeing the sensuous lines drawn painstakingly on the paper. "So, when did she and Angel part ways? Or why?"

"Well, ah, all we, uh, all we know is that five years after they met, his interest lay more in tormenting other subjects. There is no mention of her ever again in the records."

"So we don't even really know that this woman was the woman from before. I mean, for all we know she could have been a mortal he was just having fun with?" she asked.

"Well, yes. Theoretically. But her appearance is uncannily similar to that of Kiara's." Giles pulled out an even older, weathered sketch of the beauty. It was nowhere near as well drawn as the sketch Buffy held in front of her, but she could tell the undeniable likeness between the two.

"So when was that one drawn?" she nodded to the older one.

"Most likely around the time she was changed, we estimate late 1570's, early 1580's."

"Speaking of golden oldies, what was she like before she turned? If she took such delight in killing, was she evil even before?" Buffy looked up at him, her green eyes inquisitive.

Giles coughed and she could have swore he blushed. "Actually, we, ah, we....we don't know."

She arched a brow. "Oh. So the all knowing Watchers aren't infallible? Big surprise there."

"We assume that she was somewhat evil beforehand. To go on a killing rampage such as hers...." Giles shuddered.

"So tell me again why you think any of this has anything to do with Angel?"

Giles wrote down his translation of the prophecy on a blank piece of paper. Then handed it to her. "We have 'Angel meets Demon on a battlefield'. That could describe Angel and Kiara. 'Blood mightier than the death of the Chosen', well....I think that's self explanatory." Giles looked down from her accusing glare. He cleared his throat and continued. "'Blood binds three and three bind blood', I take this to refer to Angel, Spike and Drusilla who are all strongly bound by blood. They may symbolize a family to her. But," he shook his head, "I'm not sure what the prophecy foretells taking place, save for the recantation of Angel's soul. Also....." his gaze wandered to the most recent sketch as he motioned to it. Buffy looked at him expectantly. He pointed to the area where the signature should be, though there was nothing but shading. However, upon closer inspection she could just barely make out "Angelus" in the smeared charcoal.

Buffy stood up wearily. "Can you just tell me what you think will happen then?"

Giles looked up at her hopelessly. "I...I think that the demon Kiara wants to take Angel's soul away. I think she wants her toy back. And I think she will manipulate Spike, Drusilla, Angel and even you, to get her way."

Buffy nodded to him and made her way out of the library.

***

Angel opened his eyes from his place on the sofa and saw her standing in the sunlight. *It's a dream* he thought. He closed his eyes again and threw his arm over them. In bright, blinding flashes, scenes from his past swam through his mind, just as they had as he'd slept away most of the day.

*Bloody hell* he thought. *If she wants to play, that's fine with me.* Angelus watched from a few paces off as Darla seduced her prey. The young man was a fop. He didn't know why they didn't just enjoy themselves and engorge themselves on the whole damn lot of the insipid human toys. He turned abruptly and walked off, annoyed.

He clasped his hands behind his back as he made his way through the elaborate gardens of this night's hosts. The moonlight bathed the yards in an eerie silver-blue light that beckoned the demon inside of him. Restraint was not his best feature and Darla knew this. *Damn her!* He could hear the tittering laughter of the not-so-innocent young maids as they succumbed to the more zealous rakehells. *Ah yes. I should only be so lucky as to be taking delicious advantage of one of these child's wiles.* He made his way absently through the darkened paths, thinking once again how easy attack would be here. Unknowingly and uncaringly he stepped inside the hosts' renowned labyrinth. Seeing the drunken young man stumbling ahead of him, he began stalking him with a subconscious stealth. The man was so sotted that he didn't even realize what was happening until Angelus' fangs were buried to the hilt in his jugular. *No fun* he thought. *Didn't even struggle.* He let the lifeless body sink to the ground and continued walking the maze of the labyrinth, guided unconsciously towards the heart. He moved quietly but it was not until he was twenty feet away from the center entrance that he heard the soft humming. He inched forward slowly, lurking within the dense foliage of the tall hedges. He stopped right before he walked into the clearing.

The heart of the maze was a circle about thirty feet in diameter. It was paved with stones that, if looked at from above, would have created a geometrically precise spiral. Though the hedge walls encompassing the clearing were at least ten feet high, the moon still spotlighted the area. He knew it to be well after midnight, but somehow the light did not create shadows in the surreal alcove. But his attention was on none of this. In the very center of the spiral was a girl. *Take her!* his mind screamed. But he held back, content to watch for the moment. Her long black hair swirled around her slender frame as she spun around, humming, dancing in the moonlight. She raised her arms and her face towards the dark sky littered with stars. He could tell her eyes were closed but his own gaze was riveted on the secretive smile on her lips. For a moment he yearned to know that secret.

*Fool!* his mind screamed once more. *Secrets? The only secrets she has are yours for the tasting.* Still he didn't move. She slowly stopped her twirling and looked around, a contemplative look on her face. *Does she sense me?* She turned her back to him and wrapped her arms around herself. *Yes, be afraid. Be wary.* He took in the rest of her. She was petite and the long white gown hung perfectly on her small body. The dÈcolletage on the gown was deep and the heavy cloth was balanced on the very edges of the gentle slope of her shoulders. A breeze blew through the clearing and danced through her dark locks, exposing the soft skin of her bare back, her smooth shoulders, her gracefully curving neck. The hunger pounded through his body, but he kept it in check. Without a sound he moved swiftly to stand behind her. He knew she remained unaware of him, her eyes closed as if she were watching something of utmost importance behind the thin, almost translucent lids. His hands hovered over her shoulders. Her scent was intoxicating to him. Almost like...jasmine. But it was not a perfumed smell. This scent came from within her, her skin, her blood. It was her essence. He inhaled deeply as he noted the top of her head barely reached his shoulder. *A child.* He frowned at the thought. How could a child be so enticing to him? He shook the thought off. *A meal is a meal, afterall* he thought.

"I knew you would come," she said, her voice soft and low, like a warm wind blowing over him. He was shocked. Had he given some sign that he was there? Her eyes were still closed. He didn't say a word, for fear she was speaking to herself or to her dream.

"My Angel," she whispered. He froze.

She turned to him and looked up at him, her silver eyes dancing in the glow of the moonlight. She smiled that smile up at him and he felt as if the world was tilting. She raised her fingers to trace over the ridges of his features and he only then realized he had morphed into his game face. He snarled lowly, but it did not stop her exploration. She touched him gently, almost as if in awe. *You coward.* He grabbed her slender wrist, marveling at how frail it seemed, and twisted it harshly behind her back. He buried his free hand in the silken mass of her raven black hair and bent her head to the side, exposing her sweet neck to him once again. His growl was half moan as his gaze took her in. He was angry at himself for being so drawn in by this slip of a girl.

"I'm going to enjoy drinking you, luv. You're quite the tender morsel," he snarled. He was furious with himself, but could only transfer that onto her. He wanted her to beg. To plead. He wanted to see the fright, the pleading in her eyes. Her eyes that were brighter than stars in the black velvet sky. Without another thought he bared his fangs to her and dipped his head to the curve of her neck.

She remained calm. "You won't," she said.

Her words stopped him. *I won't?!?! Where in the hell does she think she is? Maybe she's insane.* He laughed darkly inside. He bent his head and let his fangs scrape her tender skin, beads of dark red blood forming on the scratches. He intended to show that he most certainly would. His tongue licked at the drops of blood. They inflamed his senses.

"You can't," she said in that same even tone.

He stopped as he finished lapping at the blood. He suddenly felt as if the world was turning the other way. His hands rested upon her cool shoulders. He shook his head, disbelievingly, and thrust her violently away. She fell a few paces away. She watched him calmly as he stalked off. She slept in the heart of the labyrinth amidst the screams of terror and cries for mercy as Angelus disregarded his sire's request and feasted in a rage upon the party attendants.

She sighed like a contented lover as her fingertips traced the quickly healing scratches upon her neck. "My Angel," she whispered.

He opened his eyes again as the sun went down. The first thing he saw was that she was sitting on the arm of the sofa, watching him sleep. She smiled at him as he sat up.

"Sleep well?" she inquired.

"Not exactly."

She nodded and stood up at the same time he did. The second thing he noticed was that she had cleaned. He looked at her curiously. She shrugged.

"We're going to have visitors," she said evasively.

***

"So you think it's serious?" Willow asked. She was seated Indian style in the middle of her made bed. She'd gotten back a few hours earlier and was shocked by all Buffy had told her.

Buffy was packing. "I think anything dealing with Angelus, Spike, Dru, not to mention the creature from the Black Lagoon, is serious." She halted her packing and turned to face Willow. "I can't let anything happen to him, Will. If I don't do anything and Angel does change, it might as well be my fault all over again....." Willow patted the spot next to her on her bed and she sat down.

"It wasn't your fault."

Buffy exhaled.

Willow grimaced. She hadn't gained much insight from what Buffy had told her. It wasn't like Giles to be so lax in his duties. If he couldn't understand what was going to happen, no one was likely to find out until *after* it happened. "So wh-what are you planning to do?"

Buffy stood and walked back to her bed. She proceeded to finish packing. "I'm going to do the only thing I can do."

Willow watched her. "Aren't you forgetting the kitchen sink?" she joked.

Buffy looked up, her mind elsewhere. "Huh?" She looked down at her overflowing bags. "Oh." She smiled lamely.

"Buffy...don't you think it might be a bad idea to go to L.A.?"

"It's the only option I have, Will. If I don't go and Angelus returns, who's going to be there to stop him? I have to go and hope I get there in time."

"But...I....I mean, don't you think that you're going to L.A. might in effect complete the prophecy? What with the whole Chosen death thing going on?"

Buffy shrugged. "It's a risk I gotta take." She zipped up her bags and tossed them on the floor. She placed her hands at the back pockets of her tight black leather pants. "I'm gonna go see Mom before I go. You'll watch things here for me, won't ya?"

Willow stood and hugged her quickly. "You know us." She grinned. "The Scooby Gang's always up for a night of stalking the undead and assorted freaky things of the Hellmouth."

Buffy nodded and walked to the door. She turned as she opened it. "And, uh, Will....? Don't tell Giles where I went immediately. Just give me a bit of time to kinda get things straightened out, k?"

Willow nodded, though she didn't think it was the best idea not to tell Giles. "My lips are not only zipped, they're hermetically sealed. But I do have one more question...."

Buffy looked at her expectantly.

"What about Aidan?"

Buffy froze. She looked at Willow askance. Hiding her shock that she'd totally forgotten in the last 48 hours about the guy she'd been dating fairly regularly, she answered Willow. "Don't tell him either. I hope I'll be back before I'm missed." With that she smiled at Willow and walked out.

She opened the door to her house and switched on the lights. It was very quiet.

"Mom? Are you home?" she called out. She heard the upstairs bathroom door open.

"Buffy? Is that you?" her mother called down weakly. Fearing the worst, Buffy ran up the stairs. Her mother was leaning over the bathroom sink.

"Mom?" she spoke quietly. "Are you okay?"

Joyce Summers turned her head and gave her daughter a wan smile. "I'm fine. I think it's just a virus that's been going around at the gallery."

Buffy nodded, though she was still more than a little nervous. She took her mother's arm and a wet face cloth. "Come on. I'm going to put you to bed." Joyce followed obligingly to her bedroom and reclined on top of her bed. Buffy laid the cool cloth on her forehead. "Just rest, ok? I'm going to go make you a cup of tea." Joyce nodded and closed her eyes, thoughts swirling through her mind. Just as she was about to go to sleep, Buffy popped back in.

"Honey. Why are you home? Are you ok?" she asked weakly.

Buffy set up the tea on the nightstand and perched on the edge of the bed next to her mother. "Yeah. I just wanted to tell you I'm not going to be in town for the weekend."

Joyce sat up in bed with minimal help from Buffy. "Oh? Where are you going?"

Buffy hid her gaze as she answered. "To L.A."

"L.A.? But what's-" her eyes got wide as she realized. "Oh Buffy. You aren't going to see him, are you?"

"Mom," she began. "It's not what you think..."

"Not what I think?" she yelled. She calmed down before continuing. "There's no reason for you to see him, Buffy. He left. You both know it's for the best. Besides, what about that nice boy you've brought home a couple of times? What's his name?" She wracked her brain for a name. "Andrew? Arthur? Alan?"

Buffy's tone was cool as she spoke to her mother. "His name is Aidan, and just because Angel and I have broken up doesn't mean we can't be friends."

Her mother looked at her skeptically. "Oh? And I assume this is just a *friendly* visit?"

"Yes!"

Joyce shook her head. "No. I forbid it. You may not go to L.A. to see that...that....that VAMPIRE!"

Buffy stood up. "I'm 18, Mom. I'm in college. I don't even live here anymore. You cannot forbid me to go to L.A." She began to walk out of the room.

Her mother sat up weakly. "Buffy Anne Summers! You come back here right now! Seeing Angel is not the right thing to do. Not when you've finally got a normal life within your grasp!"

Buffy stopped in her tracks. She walked back into the room. Her voice was deadly calm. "You think that's what this is all about? A normal life? Well I've gotten past that dream and you should too. Because it's just a dream. To hope for more would be selfish. This is my life. I'm the Slayer. The rest is just an added bonus." She sighed, suddenly feeling too old. "Mom, I'm sorry if this upsets you. But I am going to him, and you can't stop me." She walked to Joyce. Leaning down, she kissed her forehead. "I love you, Mom. Get better. I don't like seeing you sick." She walked out of the room and out of the house.

Joyce stood, torn between running after her daughter or running to the bathroom to empty the contents of her stomach yet again. But the choice was taken away from her and she sprinted to the bathroom.

***

They'd been patrolling for three hours with nary a vampire to be found.

"You think it's the weather? I mean, look at what it's doing to my hair," Cordelia remarked.

Angel mumbled something under his breath. She shot him a glance. "Why don't you go home Cordelia? We might as well call it a night. I know we're not going to find any."

She thought his suggestion over. *It'd be nice to have night off.* "Why don't we go out? We both need a rest. It'd be fun to just relax and dance for a night, wouldn't it?"

He looked around, wanting anything but to go out with Cordy. Drawing up his courage he answered, "Fine. You lead the way." She smiled at him and straightened her short skirt. For the umpteenth time he wondered if she ever actually expected to fight, dressed like that.

She looked over her shoulder to see if he was coming and caught his glance. She looked down at her skirt and noted the drift of his thoughts. Smiling smugly she called back over her shoulder, "It's called dressing to kill."

Angel looked up, surprised, but she'd already turned back around and was walking purposefully towards the club across the street. He hadn't known he was so obvious in his critical perusal. He'd have to remember that Cordelia was a bit more perceptive than she let on.

As they walked into The Inferno, as the club was called, he noted a few undead around. Unfortunately, or fortunately, he mused, these were only the ones he did business with on a regular basis. They nodded at him imperceptibly but did not note his existence any further. As a known foe to the vampire culture, association with him could blow their respective covers.

He looked around, surprised to realize he'd been there before. The decor was dark of course, with red lighting and red leather and velvet furniture. It was basically a modern motif with steel and black iron furnishings. Though the use of red gave off a "hot" atmosphere, he realized the rest of the room was rather cold and sterile. A band was playing on stage and he noticed with feigned interest, the two women dancing in cages on either side. He wouldn't have picked this place as a winner on the "Cordy-scale" of fun.

As Cordelia excused herself to dance with a particularly arrogant young man, Angel sentenced himself to a drink and an isolated booth. He had lost all track of space and time when he realized something was going on in the club. He shook his head and looked around. He couldn't see Cordelia anywhere. In fact, he thought for a moment that the club had closed because he couldn't see anyone anywhere. But he could still hear the fast, pulsating beat of the music. He twisted around in the booth and realized where everyone had gone. They were crowded around the cage to the left of the stage. His first urge was to make sure Cordelia was safe. He noticed her on the outskirts of the mob, pouting because she was no longer the center of attention. He stood and walked over to her.

"Not having fun?" he asked.

"Well, I was before it turned into the Slut-O-Rama." She nodded to the cage that so many men were crowded about.

He smirked. "Upset that you weren't a contestant?"

"Watch it, Dead Boy," she shot back, reverting to her ex's pet name for Angel.

He glowered. Something about the whole situation didn't feel right to him. "I'll be right back," he told her, then began to weave through the mass to see what exactly was getting so much attention. The beat changed as he neared the front. It was slow and seductive, and when he lifted his gaze, he could see why. Why everything, actually.

Her legs were long and tanned and shaped perfectly. Her body was petite but sculpted beautifully, like a work of art. The men around him sighed as she tossed her head back, her eyes closed as she lost herself in the music.

I'm going to take my time

I've got all the time in the world

To make you mine

It is written in the stars above

The gods decree

You'll be right here by my side

Right next to me

You can run, but you cannot hide....

Her long black hair swirled around her body as she twisted and twirled, her body moving like liquid she was so smooth and fluid. Her hips swayed back and forth rhythmically. Her fingers traveled slowly up and down the bars, enjoying her imprisonment.

Don't say you want me

Don't say you need me

Don't say you love me

It's understood

Don't say you're happy

Out there without me

I know you can't be

'Cause it's no good.....

He stared at her, transfixed, reminded of a time centuries ago. He felt a shiver deep down inside of him. The primal urge of hunger rose unbidden in him and he had to close his eyes momentarily to control himself. *What is she?* His own hands raised to grip the bars. If he'd been breathing, he would have stopped the moment she opened those stunning silver eyes to gaze down directly at him.

I'll be fine

I'll be waiting patiently

Till you see the signs

And come running to my open arms

When will you realize

Will we have to wait till our worlds collide Open up your eyes

You can't turn back the tides....

As he watched the sensuous lines of her body he could have sworn he saw her mouth "I knew you'd come." He blinked rapidly and shook his head. Her voice wafted through the cobwebs of his mind. "My Angel....." When he looked back up at her, she was no longer watching him. He turned around, and she and the music continued. As he made his way back to Cordy, he could not help but feel as if he'd lost a piece of himself.

"A real piece of work, isn't she? Who does she think she is? Hormonal imbalance, much?" It was obvious to him that Cordy was still peeved at the lack of attention being paid her.

Angel threw his arm around her shoulders. "C'mon Cordy. It's time we get home anyway."

She began to protest, but he led her out into the fading night. They walked in companionable silence, and once again Angel marveled at how well he at Cordy actually got along. He walked her to her apartment and then proceeded to go to his own home.

* * *

She was towel drying her dark hair when there was a knock on the door. She looked around quickly and threw on one of Angel's shirts. Her damp hair hung down her back, below her waist, a few strands clinging to her cheek. Noticing that it was almost time for sunrise, she opened the door with a hesitant smile. A small girl, about her height, stood on the other side, bags in hand.

Until she dropped them and did a spin kick, knocking Kiara back into the apartment. She quickly recovered herself and as the Slayer jumped up, ready to come down on her again, Kiara sprang upwards, knocking them both back down to the floor. She watched the stake seemingly materialize in Buffy's hand and laughed softly. She rolled onto her back and then rocked onto her shoulders, using the leverage to jump to her feet. Faster than Buffy's eyes could see, she kicked the stake out of the Slayer's hands and reached down to help her up. Much to Kiara's consternation, Buffy accepted her hand and pulled her back down, only to jump on top of her, another stake in hand and hovering above her heart. She eyed the sharp wooden object momentarily.

"Where is he?" Buffy demanded.

Kiara looked around slowly. "I think I'm going to guess he's not home yet."

Buffy looked down at the beautiful woman from her lover's past and wanted to cry. She took in her perfect features, sparkling silver eyes, and the fact that she was wearing Angel's shirt. She was either too late, or obviously not needed. *No!* she thought. *There is a prophecy and I'm here to stop it from coming true, no matter what!*

At that moment, the object of both their affections stood in the doorway. He quietly closed the door behind him, blocking out the fastly approaching sunlight. He watched them momentarily, a bemused look upon his dark face.

"Buffy?" he said after a long while when they all three looked back and forth between each other.

"Angel!" she exclaimed, relieved he had not been turned. She jumped off of the vampire woman and ran to him, enfolding him in a tight embrace.

Angel wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in her hair, inhaling her familiar scent. Remembering their need to stay apart however, he drew back and distanced himself from her. He walked to the glass doors and undid the drapes that hid the sunlight from view. "What brings you here?" he asked carefully. Unable to resist, he turned to her, his eyes soft but restrained. "You look great," he said softly.

Watching them, Kiara stood slowly, a small frown marring her brow. Buffy noticed and shook herself mentally. "Angel. What's she doing here? She's evil. Not that you've not been known to hang out with the less savory of your people, but.... She's going to take your soul away!" she blurted out.

Angel looked at her as if she'd grown two heads. "What?" he asked. He looked to each of them, unsure of what was going on. Bidden by the unknown source deep within him, he did a double take at Kiara in his shirt. Inhaling, though it wasn't necessary, he looked at them. "Can someone please tell me what's going on here?"

"She's evil-" Buffy started.

"She's right," Kiara said simply.

He looked at Kiara in surprise, and also a touch of hurt, he realized.

"Well, partially right, anyway," Kiara amended.

Buffy looked ready to attack her and he clenched his fists behind his back. "Would you care to tell us which part she was right about exactly?"

Kiara licked her lips and nodded to the living room. "Maybe it'd be best if you two were sitting. I think this is going to be a complicated story."

They all moved to the large room, Angel and Buffy careful to sit on opposite ends of the sofa. Again Kiara found herself pacing in front of the fireplace. She looked up at them both, determination written plainly in her features.

"I did come here to make you lose your soul," she began.

Buffy almost leaped from the sofa, but Angel restrained her, wishing to hear the rest of the sordid plan first.

"But it's not like I was doing it to hurt you."

Buffy snorted.

Kiara looked towards her, measuring her up. She addressed her before continuing. "You know, you're very smart. And very beautiful. You're tough, and you'll survive. But I hate to tell you, little Slayer, that you haven't lived for nearly five centuries. Now, no, I don't profess to *know* you, as all you young children of this generation seem to think is impossible, but I do know that though that attitude of yours has gotten you out of many a fight, it's not doing you any good right now. And I know that the reasons you're here aren't the noble ones of your dreams, but the selfish ones of your heart. So don't judge me, little girl. You can't kill me, like you can the rest of your big bad monsters. So you've dealt with evil. So what? You have no idea what I can do."

Angel smiled slightly as Buffy shut up and narrowed her eyes at the small woman in front of her.

Kiara's silver eyes snapped as she turned around to compose herself. *Good one* she thought. *Why don't you just try and see if she can hate you anymore than she does now.* She continued, "I am here to cause you to lose your soul." She narrowed her eyes and Angel was struck by how alike the two women were. "Truth be told, I was rather hoping just learning I was alive would, errr...." she looked toward Buffy, "'give you a happy' I believe is what I mean." She grinned as she saw Buffy cross her arms over her chest defensively. "However, you were merely relieved, then guilt ridden. Which *so* wasn't in my plan."

"What exactly is your plan?" Buffy asked scornfully.

Kiara pulled up a chair and sat down in front of them, her elbows resting atop her knees as she leaned forward. Her silver eyes were soft and fathomless as she looked at Angel. "In order for his soul to become permanent - without a curse - he must fight himself for it." She turned to Buffy. "In other words, he has to lose his soul then regain it - without the help of a curse. He must perform a deed that will restore his soul to him."

Buffy stared at her for a long moment, as did Angel. "Why would you want to do this?" she asked Kiara.

Kiara kept her gaze on Angel as she spoke. "Because I know it can be done. And because the threat of Angelus returning to stay is far too great for this world." She sighed, her voice lowering. "And because I love him more than life itself, and I would give anything for him to be happy."

Buffy's green eyes widened as she looked back and forth between the two. The woman was either lying or telling the truth. She didn't know which she'd prefer.

Angel stood up. "Well, that's enough chit-chat for tonight. I don't know about you Buffy, but I think Kiara and I need some sleep." He hadn't yet forgotten that dance. "Kiara has dibs on the bed, I'm sleeping on the sofa.....if you promise not to kill each other, I think you should stay in the bedroom with her."

Buffy nodded and picked up her discarded bags. Kiara strolled into the bedroom and picked up a brush to untangle the dark mass tumbling over her shoulders. Angel flopped down on the cushions and covered his eyes with his arms again. It was going to be a long day.

***

"She did WHAT?!?" Giles yelled as Joyce paced in front of his couch in his apartment.

"She went to L.A. to be with Angel," she repeated.

The ruffled Watcher looked around his room in bewilderment. He had found out some news that Buffy was not going to like. And now she wasn't even around for him to tell. She was walking into battle with no weapons. He noticed how green Joyce looked.

"Are-are you...are you feeling well Mrs. Sum-...er.....Joyce?" he blushed and looked away.

Joyce didn't notice. She held her stomach and looked around. "If you don't mind me asking, can you tell me where your bathroom is?"

Giles escorted the sick woman down the hall and returned to his den. He paced back and forth, unconsciously picking up her habit. Her was freed from his reverie at the sound of her retching in his bathroom. He hurried to the door.

"J-Joyce? Are you all right in there?" he stammered.

"I...I'm..........I'll be.....fi-i-" she broke down into another bout of sickness.

He heard her mutter something about not being as bad last time. He opened the door and withdrew a cloth, wetting it to make it cool. He walked to her and held her hair back as she continued to bring up all the contents of her stomach - not that there was much left.

As the sickness ceased, he cradled her weakened form in his arms, wiping the sweat from her face with the cool cloth. "You're very sick," he informed her, concerned. "Perhaps we should go to the hospital...?"

Joyce shook her head. "No. No. Really. I'll be fine now."

"Well, do you, uhhh, do you know what's wrong? Are you taking any medicine?"

She shook her head again. "Yes and no." She closed her eyes and slumped back against him.

Without any further qualms he lifted her in his arms and carried her out of his apartment to place her gently in his car. He drove as speedily as his old car could take him to the hospital. He pulled under the portico to the Emergency Room and parked the car in the middle of the drive. Giles raced around the side of the car and lifted her in his arms, disregarding the offers of assistance from the nurses and orderlies around him.

Joyce pleaded with him to put her down, but to no avail. A nurse walked up to him when she saw the commotion he was creating.

"Sir? Sir! Can you please slow down," Nurse Thompson ordered him.

"She-she's very sick. She needs a doctor immediately," he told her.

The nurse guided him behind a small curtain and motioned for him to set her on the bed. As Joyce settled herself down, another nurse came to take her temperature and blood pressure.

Nurse Thompson led him to the waiting area. "You'll have to wait out here, Sir. Don't worry," she said with a gentle smile. "I'm sure the doctors will have you wife feeling better in no time."

Giles began to correct the nurse in her assumption, but it was useless for she'd already walked off. He sat down and contemplated calling Buffy's dorm room, but he knew she'd already left town. He sat down and rested his head in his hands, wondering what *else* was going to happen before the night was over. He looked at his watch. It was 12 am. Technically the night *was* over. Buffy had left hours earlier and was probably already with Angel. *If only she'd stayed a while longer. I would have been able to clarify the prophecy and a bit of this Kiara woman's history for her.* But it was an idle thought. Buffy could be in more trouble than was imaginable. And she would be, if he didn't find her soon. However, Joyce's health was the most important at this point in time. Buffy would never let him live if he didn't take care of Joyce. Besides, he secretly harbored very warm feelings for her and could not bear to see her in any discomfort. He remained in this thoughtful position until the doctor came out to give him an update.

"Hello. Nurse Thompson told me you brought the woman in curtain 3 here?"

Giles nodded. "Yes. Is she, ah, is she going to be all right?"

The doctor beamed at him. "Yes. She's getting dressed at the moment. I gave a small prescription for the sickness, but only to be taken if she absolutely needs it. Other than that, she seems to be in fine form. Congratulations."

Giles looked at him in confusion. "Yes, yes that's wonderf- Excuse me? Congratulations? For what, if I might ask?"

The doctor patted him on the back and gave him a knowing wink. "Your wife. She's very healthy and seems to be handling the pregnancy quite well, except for the morning sickness, of course. Seems like it's not just happening in the morning." He grinned. "Is this your first?" he inquired.

Giles' jaw dropped and he had to shake himself physically. "Yes. I mean no, yes....I don't know," he said.

The doctor gave him a curious look and then shrugged. "Well, here she comes now. She should probably check with her own doctor in another month, just to make sure everything is in order." He nodded to Giles and retreated down the hall.

Giles watched Joyce walk towards him, her head down. He looked at her lithe form, so much like Buffy's, yet so different also. *Pregnant?* he thought, bewildered. *It couldn't be.....could it?* As she stopped before him she looked up at him, a blush spreading over her cheeks.

"I...I assume they told you....?"

Giles nodded.

"I had to tell them you were my husband. Well, I didn't have to tell them. But it seemed like the appropriate thing to do at the time. I just didn't want any rumors spreading.... The gallery and all...." she babbled, her voice trailing off after a few moments.

He had to know. "Ah, Joyce...is it....are you...I mean, how......"

"Yes. I'm sure. And yes, it happened when, well.....during that incident with the candy.... I mean, there hasn't been any other opportunity." She bowed her head once more. "Unless you wanna own it up to a Hellmouth fluke." Her gaze shot up, dark and worried. "You don't think it could be that, do you, Mr. Giles?"

Giles shook his head. "Ah, no. I don't think it's an...errr....a 'Hellmouth fluke'," he said.

He placed his hand upon her back, then snatched it back, not knowing if she would abhor his touch or not. As she leaned her head against his shoulder, he muffled a sigh of relief and rubbed her back lightly. "Well," he began after a long moment. "I think we should probably, probably go."

She nodded as they walked out the doors, relieved to see his car was still in place. "Where are we going?" she asked.

Giles made up his mind in a split second; a spontaneity he hadn't known since his "Ripper" days. "You'll see," was all he told her. *It's going to be a very long day* he thought.

* * *

It was 5:00 in the morning and still dark out. The gang stood outside Giles' apartment door. Willow looked at the dissatisfied faces around her.

"What?" she asked. "I can't help this. I just have an icky feeling about Buffy being in L.A. And, and she didn't say I *couldn't* tell Giles. Just that I couldn't tell him right away."

"Don'tcha think it could have waited an hour or two longer, Will?" Xander asked, running his fingers through his disheveled hair. He mumbled to himself as Willow shot him her determined look.

"I'm with Willow," Oz said.

"Big surprise there," Xander grumbled.

"...and if she thinks that there's a reason to worry about Buffy, then I'm all for being here," Oz continued, ignoring Xander's comment.

"Something tells me you didn't have a phone ringing in your ear at four this morning telling you to be ready to go in fifteen minutes...." Xander mused to Oz. He shut up as Willow glared at him again.

"Do you really think Buffy's in danger? It just surprises me that she would run off and not tell anyone," the tall, handsome blond fellow behind Xander said.

Willow flushed guiltily, remembering how she'd told Aidan that the only reason she knew Buffy'd gone was because she found a note in Buffy's history books this morning. In truth, as she and Oz had lain in bed she just started to get a bad feeling about the whole situation. So she called Xander and then Aidan. She hoped Buffy wouldn't get mad at her for including Aidan, but since he was her 'technically labeled' boyfriend, Willow felt he had a right to know. Also, she felt it'd be best to have him around to dissuade Buffy from any touchy feely with Angel.

"Oh yeah, that Buff. She's just a wild woman when it comes to taking off. You'd think it was her life's goal to travel the world on a whim. Or at least just to Los Angeles," Xander remarked.

"Xander...." Willow whispered warningly as she rang Giles' doorbell.

The group stood in shock as Mrs. Summers opened the door. In only a man's button down shirt.

"Mrs. Sum-Summers," Willow stammered.

"Oh. Hi Willow. Hi Xander. Hi Oz and you too, uhhh, Andr...Arth...Anth...I'm sorry, I forget your name."

Aidan smiled shyly. "It's Aidan, Mrs. Summers."

She nodded absently. "That's right. I'm sorry. Buffy's always trying to get me to remember." She opened the door. "Won't you come in? Rupert was just making some tea."

The gang exchanged a look and then headed inside. Giles was just walking out with two steaming mugs of tea as they came in. Willow could have sworn that he blushed right to his roots.

"Oh, ah, I see, we, uh, we have, uh, guests," Giles faltered. He hurried to set the hot cups down.

They stood in a circle around the room, the gang looking back and forth between Giles and Joyce.

"Did we come at a bad time?" Xander asked. He grunted as Willow elbowed him. A bit too hard, in his opinion.

"We-" Joyce began.

"Joyce-" Giles started.

The gang looked at each other, quickly becoming even more uncomfortable.

Giles took a deep breath. "Joyce came here last night. She was quite upset, and informed me that Buffy has left town again. In her state I did not think it was prudent that she travel back home by herself. So she stayed the night here." He looked at Joyce to gauge her corroboration of the story. "I slept on the couch," he added as a misguided afterthought.

The gang nodded. Willow exhaled in relief. "I-we just stopped by to tell you that Buffy's gone. But since you already know that we can go now." Willow started backing up slowly. The guys took her lead. They practically ran out of the apartment.

Giles looked at Joyce. "Well, all things considered, I'd say that went well." He handed her a mug of still hot tea and they sat down on the couch in synchronized despondency.

"Think they're going to L.A.?" she asked.

"Yes."

"Think they'll get there before us?"

"Most likely."

She nodded. "Think they'll tell Buffy?"

"No. I don't think they really think anything is going on."

She nodded again.

"And even, even if they do..." he took off his glasses and wiped them carefully before replacing them. "I don't think they could ever guess the truth."

Joyce looked down at her ring finger and the newly acquired wedding band. "Probably not," she said after a moment.

They both stared forward at the fireplace and sipped their tea in silence.

"Please tell me that wasn't about what I think it was about," Xander said as they climbed into Oz's van.

"Don't worry," Willow said, patting him on the head. "Think of it this way. It'll only equate about one month in therapy. Which is good, considering the other forty years it'll take for everything else in your life."

"Gee, thanks Will. You always have a way of making me see the bright side of things," he remarked sarcastically.

The four of them got settled inside, Willow up front and Aidan and Xander in the back.

"So Aidan, man," Xander continued. "Willow tells me you've been getting in with the Buffster. How long did it take you to discover her secret super hero style?"

Aidan smiled at him. "Oh, I always knew there was something special about Buffy. But it took her about a month before giving in and telling me."

"A month huh?" Xander sniffed. "Yeah...it wasn't too long after she came to Sunnydale that I expertly pried her secrets from her. What would you say, Will? A week? A night?" Willow shot him "the look" and he shrugged. "Ok, so I got stuck in the crossfire and cried myself to sleep like a baby for months after it. So what?"

Aidan grinned but remained silent, opting to look out of the window as Oz drove towards the City of Angels. He listened idly as Willow and Xander reminisced over their adventures with Buffy. His body jerked though, as Oz slammed on the brakes.

"Oz, buddy, not enough coffee this morning dude? Or is this a residual effect of being a wolf-boy? I thought you were supposed to have better than average eyesight," Xander yelped.

"Shut up Xander!" Willow screeched. "I think we hit him!" Her eyes were wide and panicky as she climbed out the passenger door.

The group got out and hesitantly walked around the van, careful not to move into any oncoming traffic that might appear. There was nothing around except a broad expanse of highway.

"This is giving me a very bad 'I Know What You Did Last Summer' vibe," Willow said.

"I dunno," Xander countered. "The blond chick in that movie was pretty much a hottie."

She rolled her eyes at him as they continued walking.

"Ummmm...guys?" Oz said cautiously. Willow, Aidan and Xander spun around. "I think I found it," he said. "If you can call it an...it."

Even as the other three backtracked to the side of the road they noticed a form, staggering to stand up. Willow let out a little scream and hid behind Xander. "What the.... Bloody hell. You tore my pants, you bloody wanker," the form yelled drunkenly as it straightened.

"Oh, we gotta stop meeting like this," Xander said as he recognized the slurred British accent.

Willow ran to him. "Spike!" she cried out. "What are you doing?!?! It's almost sunrise."

"I don't care!" he said, trying to push Willow away. "What's it matter, pet? There's nothing left to live my undead life for."

Xander joined Willow and helped her drag Spike to the van. "I'm gonna guess Drusilla," he said.

"Bitch," muttered Spike, unable to stand or walk on his own.

As they lifted him into the van, Oz drew the black drapes over the windows in the back of his van and then moved a bar near the front, and a black curtain fell, blocking the sunlight from the windshield. As soon as they got Spike settled in the back, he passed out. Xander quirked a brow at the black velvet furnishings.

"Band thing," Oz said.

They piled back into the van.

***

He slept. He dreamed.

Her long black hair was piled in silken ringlets atop her head, glinting in the moonlight. Soft strains of the orchestra wafted outside through the open French doors. Candle light spilled from brightly lit chandeliers. The ballroom was magnificent and his fare had dressed splendidly for the occasion. But his thoughts were not on feeding. As he stood in the shadows of a tall potted tree, the transient scent of jasmine encompassed him and he focused only on her.

Darla had not wanted to attend the party tonight. After leaving Venice swiftly last week, he had decided to come to London. *Somehow*, the woman child was here too. Darla was suspicious of his motives. Angelus didn't care. She could bloody well play with her own toys. He was beginning to enjoy stalking the young beauty far too much. He smiled cruelly as he envisioned her imprisoned and at his mercy.

She turned and he inhaled, taken off guard once again at the pure hunger she unwittingly enticed in him. He had the vague thought that even if he drained her, it would never be enough. Her blood would set him on fire, and he would never be free of her. *Wanker. She's no different than any of the others. Now either play with your food or just go ahead and take advantage of the insipid ingenue.* She reached out and lifted a perfect red rose from the vase on the balcony. As she trailed the soft petals over the tender skin of her cheek and neck he felt his game face present itself. She walked to the stone railing and looked out over the river. A breeze blew around her, causing the sheer, thin silk of her midnight blue gown to mold itself to her frame. She had chosen, he noticed, to ignore the current style in exchange for a simple shiftlike dress that, in his opinion, was more delectable than any of the "fine ladies'" dresses inside. She laid the rose upon the top of the railing and turned, her silver gaze searching the shadows. As he stepped forth, he watched the candlelight flicker a reflection in her mesmerizing eyes. *You're a damned fool.*

"You're late," she murmured.

"And you're early," he replied smoothly. "One might think you were eager to see me." His arm snaked around her waist from behind and drew her to him in a crushing embrace. He nudged her head to the side with his chin before lowering his lips to place a light caress on the nape of her neck. He raised his head scantly, letting his tongue trace the outline of her perfect shell ear before he whispered quietly, "It's quite appalling for a woman to seem too desperate, my dear."

She moaned softly, letting her eyes drift slowly closed. "Really? I could have sworn you were already lurking in the shadows when I got here..."

A low rumble of laughter sounded in his chest. "Touche. Tell me, dearest, how it is you can detect me without ever seeing me."

"Call it a sixth sense," she replied.

His free hand rose to clasp her neck gently from the front. *How easy it would be to snap* he thought. *She is so fragile, so small, so trusting. She wouldn't even be able to scream before she was a heap at my feet.* He smiled as he pressed his lips to the hollow of her collarbone.

"My Angel," she whispered.

His arm tightened violently around her, hating the name. Hating the way it sounded so sweet upon her lips. He let her go and turned her around. Then he drew her close, ready to lead her in a very taboo version of the waltz playing. As they moved, their bodies pressed closely together, she tilted her head back and a tinkling peal of laughter was emitted from those supple red lips. Her arms wound around him and she rested her head against the place above his undead heart. He flinched and lowered her in a sweeping dip, his cold, dark eyes raking over her body.

"I'm nobody's *angel*, luv," he told her coldly. "Least of all yours. If I were you, I'd watch myself. You never know what a man like I could do to an innocent such as yourself." He lowered her to the ground, pining her arms down above her head. As he knelt down beside her, his free hand roamed over her body, emphasizing his words.

She smiled up at him angelically. "Oh you're my Angel, Angelus. You can't escape that no matter what you do." Her eyes flashed silver in the darkness. "And I'd be careful of who I labeled 'innocent'. Never underestimate a foe, dearest."

"And are you my foe, dearest?" he asked, his tone deceptively soft.

"Never, my Angel," she replied. "Then again, with friends like me, who needs enemies?" she asked sweetly.

He looked down at her for a moment before gripping her jaw tightly and kissing her. His mouth was brutal upon hers, hard and punishing. He stood swiftly, leaving her on the cold stone floor. "Be careful when you're tempting Fate, dearest. You might just find yourself in over you head." With that he walked back into the ballroom, opting to leave without Darla and search for his dinner elsewhere.

She leaned back on her elbows, watching the moon shine down brightly on the glimmering water. "Oh I do believe it's you who can't possibly imagine what Fate has in store for you, my Angel," she murmured. She looked around and felt a giddy laugh bubbling inside her. "And why is it," she wondered aloud, "that whenever you're around, I always end up on my back?"

He was awake with a jolt. He listened carefully for a moment, trying to figure out where he was. He relaxed as he heard Buffy's soft, even breathing coming from the bedroom. His heart tightened as he thought of her. So valiant. So strong. So heartbreakingly beautiful. He ached to join her, and his body rebelled at the futility of his desires. He raked his hands through his hair and flopped back down upon his makeshift bed. As he thought of the two women in the next room, he was overcome by a hunger so powerful it caused him intense physical pain. He knew it had something to do with *her*. He had not experienced such desires since Angelus had met her two centuries before. Nor had he felt such since. Angel fought back the blinding hunger with a growl. He used all of his remaining strength to conjure pictures that would ease the blood craving fire within him. He closed his eyes, but did not sleep. This time he was not plagued with memories of the dark haired beauty, but of the pain and anguish he'd caused Buffy.

***

It was still early morning when the Scooby gang pulled up outside of Cordelia's apartment. Since it was daylight, they'd opted to visit a human instead of a vampire.

"Are you sure this is the right place?" Oz asked as he parked the van.

"Well, it's the address she gave me before she left," Xander said. "Of course, knowing how she feels about me, it's probably Ishmael, the Swedish cook who makes sausages out of human flesh."

Oz looked blankly at him.

"What? Oh don't tell me you've never heard of Ishmael...." he continued to speak as they unloaded themselves.

"What should we do about him?" Aidan queried, mindless of Xander's babbling.

"Oh. Just leave him there. He should be fine until we make sure Cordelia's okay with him being here," Willow told him.

They trekked upstairs and knocked on the door. A minute later they heard a crash followed by an unmistakable shriek.

"Oh it's Cordy alright," Xander muttered.

Cordelia opened the door and looked grumpily out at the group. "What?" she said. "What can be *so* important that you would interrupt my beauty sleep? Don't you know a girl's got to get *at least* eight hours a night? Of course you don't. Why do losers need beauty sleep?" She spoke, of course, only to Xander. "Come in already," she said impatiently as she opened the door wider. As the four walked in she noticed the rest of them. "Hi Oz. Hello Willow." Her gaze slid over Aidan as and she hurriedly combed her hair back with her fingers. "Good morning, salty goodness." She smiled at him.

"That'd be Buffy's salty goodness," Xander intoned.

"Buffy? Where?"

Xander rolled his eyes.

"Uhh, Cordelia. Would it be all right if, well, if..." she nodded purposefully at the van parked below and gave Xander and Oz a look.

"If what?"

Seeing that the guys were making no move to ask, she continued. "Well, if, uh, ifSpikecouldcomein."

"Come again?" Cordy asked, arching a brow. "I could have almost sworn you asked me if Spike could come in."

Xander understood this to mean "ok" and motioned for Aidan to help him. They went back down to the van. Seeing nothing else laying around, Xander tore down the black curtain and wrapped Spike in it. They dragged him out of the van and hoisted him up, placing his arms around their shoulders. They ran quickly up the flight of stairs to Cordy's apartment and through the door. Unfortunately, Spike bounced off of the invisible shield between outside and inside and landed with an "Umf". Willow looked at Spike, alarmed as he started to smoke.

"Omigosh! He's burning!" she shouted.

"Oh all right," Cordelia said reluctantly. "Come on in, Spike."

The boys pulled him in and looked around for a safe place. She motioned across the spacious living room to her bedroom. "It's fairly dark in there. Just don't drop him. I just had my carpets cleaned. And he looks pretty raunchy. Don't put him in my bed."

Xander started mumbling again as they set Spike on the floor and covered him more fully with the thick black cloth. He took a look around the bedroom and had to admit that Cordy had done well for herself so far. As they walked back out, he heard Willow telling Cordelia about Buffy skipping town again.

"Problems much?" Cordelia asked when Willow was finished. "I'm waiting for the day Buffy goes Psycho on us. It's inevitable."

"I think she's just worried about Angel," Willow said.

"Well no wonder. I mean, she's the one who caused him to lose his soul the first time. If she hadn't been all horizontal mambo-y with him - What?!?!" she asked as Xander looked at her disgustedly.

Aidan looked around the group. "What? So she was involved with him. It's ok. I can handle it. But she's with me now," he sent Xander a conspiratorial grin and Xander returned it with a half-hearted thumbs up.

"Yeah well, I don't see her around, do you?" Cordelia asked Aidan. He flushed and she shrugged. "If I were you, I'd find those two as soon as the sun sets. I mean, I've gotten to know Angel, and he's not a bad guy. For a vamp. But how long do you think Buffy can control herself with him around? I mean, I wouldn't put it past her to -"

"Shut up, Cordelia," Xander said.

"Always have to rescue her, don't you Xander? Did it ever cross your mind that she probably doesn't need or *want* your help? Come on. What exactly can a fourth rate loser like you offer her anyway?"

Xander reigned in his anger only long enough to shoot her icy glare. "I don't know, Cordy. But you sure seemed to enjoy whatever it was." With that he stalked out of the apartment. Oz, Willow and Aidan exchanged uncomfortable glances. Cordy slumped against the wall.

"It's only 8," she said tiredly. "I don't know about you guys, but I'm going back to bed now. Feel free to drop here." Apparently forgetting about the unconscious vampire in her room, she made the trek and shut the door behind her.

"I'm gonna go see about Xander," Oz said.

Willow nodded to him gratefully. "I guess we can camp out here on the couches." She suddenly looked worriedly at Oz. "Or-or do you think we should all go back to the van? You know, show of solidarity and all...."

Oz shook his head. "Nah. I'm gonna see if I can convince him to come back up. Besides, it's roomier here."

She smiled and shut the door after him. She looked ruefully at Aidan. "Welcome to my world."

They laughed slightly and slumped down on the furniture, falling asleep immediately.

***

The sun was just beginning to set when Angel woke again from a deep and dreamless sleep. He stood up and walked to his bedroom. With a worried frown he noticed that Kiara was nowhere in sight. But his attention was caught by the petite blonde snuggled in the middle of his bed. A sudden urge of longing flowed through him. It was a sight he wanted to see everyday for the rest of his miserable unlife.

But he knew that was impossible.

He walked to the edge of the bed and looked down on her. She was so peaceful in sleep. He remembered what it was like to wake up next to her warm, sleeping body. What it was like to enfold her in his arms and hold her until he had to let her go. He traced his fingertips over her smooth cheek and was happily amazed that she still responded to his touch.

As she leaned into his caress, he sat down lightly on the bed. She smiled and murmured in her sleep, and his face grew dark as he remembered a time when he, as Angelus, had climbed into her room to watch her sleeping. Angel gently brushed back a few errant strands of her golden hair. He let them slide through his grasp, savoring the silken feel against his skin. He was touched by the enormity of his simple actions. She was here. And he didn't know if he was strong enough to let her go again.

Yet deep within his undead heart, he knew he would. It was, afterall, the best for *her*.

She opened her sparkling green eyes, a smile still playing over her lips from her slumber. It was obvious she didn't know where she was, or that she thought she was still dreaming. She reached out a hand and cupped his face.

"Angel," she whispered happily, groggily.

"Mmmmm. I'm here." He gazed down at her, so innocent, so young, and yet so strong. He hated himself for everything he'd put her through.

"I know," she sighed. "I'm dreaming aren't I?" The firmer tone of her voice belied her statement.

"Yes, my love, you are." He knew it was a stupid thing to say even as the words spilled from his lips.

She opened her eyes just a bit. "Then, as long as it's only a dream...." She caressed his face, bringing her hand to the back of his neck. He didn't argue as she pulled him down to her. She trailed her fingertips over his masculine features, as if memorizing each and every one of them. He braced himself, propping himself up on the bed as he leaned over her, hands on either side of her head. She ran her hands down his chest and around his back. She tugged on him and he could no longer deny himself. He lowered himself to her, his lips brushing across hers tentatively. She arched beneath him, one hand straying to bury itself in his hair. He deepened the kiss, his cold lips molding themselves to her warm ones. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he wondered if she had the power to thaw his ice cold body. Her tongue flicked out, tracing the curve of his lower lip. He flinched at her touch and opened his mouth, letting his tongue dance with hers. The kiss was passionate, but slow. He threaded his fingers through her tussled hair as his other hand met with the hot flesh at the indentation of her waist. She moaned softly and tightened her hold on him. He felt a trickling wetness slip down his wrist and lose itself in the softness of her hair. He slowly pulled back and looked down upon her perfect features. Her green eyes sparkled as she looked up at him, her lashes dark and spiky with tears.

She was crying.

"It's not a dream, is it?" she whispered softly.

He gently wiped away her tears with his thumb. "No, it's not," he answered quietly.

Buffy closed her eyes and a few more tears squeezed out from between her lashes. She rolled onto her side and ducked under his arm. She climbed out of the bed, keeping her back to him. He heard her take a deep breath as she combed her fingers through her hair. She pulled down the gray tank top and her hands flitted over the drawstring of her pajama pants. He remained seated on the bed, watching her as she walked to her bags and picked out clean clothes. She entered his bathroom and shut the door with a soft click. Moments later, he heard the shower running.

Angel ran his hands over his hair and cursed himself. He stood up slowly, feeling entirely too old for the charade. He walked to the kitchen and withdrew a container of blood from his refrigerator. He grimaced at the thick, cold plasma, but it took the edge off of his hunger. He wondered for a moment where Kiara was, but pushed the thought from his mind, too focused on Buffy.

Angel was lost in his thoughts, and settled against his kitchen counter, when Buffy walked in. He almost smiled when he saw her, but held it back as he noticed the look in her eyes. She was dressed in a short black leather skirt, a lacy-edged aqua camisole and her black leather boots. It reminded him much of the way she used to be, so cocky yet open. Not troubled by the grief and chaos he would later bring to her life. She slid into her jacket and looked at him expectantly. His jacket.

"Where are we hunting tonight?" she asked.

"Actually, we're not. There's been minimal action around here lately."

"Something up?"

"I don't think so. And if there is, it's not something they're plotting. More like something they're afraid of," he told her, taking a moment to consider the still strange actions of his fellow species.

"Something to look into."

"Maybe."

"But....?"

"But tonight I thought I might stop into a bar where some of my contacts can usually be found."

"So you were planning on investigating anyway?" she asked.

"What can I say?" he murmured with a small smile. "I'm not totally lax on my slaying duties."

"And I am?"

"That's not what I meant." He looked at her, trying to figure out just what was causing the rift between them.

"I know," her voice was soft as she bowed her head. She stood ten feet away from him, but it felt like miles to Angel.

After what seemed like eons, he heard her speak. She looked up, her eyes dark and tormented. "I can't do this. I can't be around you. I thought I'd moved on. I thought I was over you, but...." her voice trailed off.

"But what?" he asked. He ached to go to her, to pick her up in his arms and tell her everything would be fine.

Her voice cracked as she continued. "I'll never stop loving you." She looked into his eyes, willing him to understand. Her heart felt like it was breaking all over again. She could barely breath and tears rose unbidden to her eyes. "Out of sight, out of mind doesn't exactly work," she laughed, though it sounded weak and wobbly even to her.

"I know," he whispered.

"I'm seeing someone else now, Angel. And he's really nice. He knows about me. He cares about me. And he...he's-" she broke off, mortified at what she was about to say.

"Human?" he asked, his eyes betraying hurt, but also conveying his acceptance of the inevitable.

She nodded. "I can't have you, Angel. And I can't look at you without....without *everything* coming back. I can't see you and not love you," she finished almost desperately.

He took a step forward, but stopped as she backed away. He ran his hands through his hair. He looked back to her, a small desperation shining in his dark eyes. "Does he make you happy? Are you happy?"

Her eyes widened slightly, but betrayed her inner turmoil. She took a deep breath and swallowed. Her throat constricted as she forced the words out. "Yes. I'm....I'm happy." A tear coursed its way down her cheek.

He smiled almost bitterly. He stepped back again and gripped the edge of his counter in his hands. He felt as if he was spinning out of control, yet her words also soothed him. "I'm glad. If you're happy, I'm..." he laughed before continuing the statement. "No, I guess it doesn't really work that way. But your happiness means the most to me. As long as you're happy, I can continue to do what I do."

She shot him a questioning look.

"Survive," he said.

She nodded sadly. "Well," she said, taking a deep breath. "I guess we should be going."

He picked up his own jacket and opened the door. "After you, my lady."

They walked out into the night.

***

The Scooby Gang walked into The Inferno. It's dark lighting and hot ambiance mixed well with the tribal beat of the band on-stage. Oz took Willow's hand and led her to the dance floor immediately, accidentally knocking Cordy out of the way.

"Impatient much?" Cordelia asked.

"They've been getting rather hot and heavy recently," Xander explained to her. They hadn't really patched things up from earlier, but they were on speaking terms.

"So you think if Buffy's with this Angel guy, this is the place they'll come?" Aidan asked her.

"Yeah. We were here the other night. Be glad you weren't. This one skanky ho decided - HEY!" she stopped and pointed to a girl on the dance floor. "There's the slut right now. I swear. You'd think people'd have more decency around here. After the show she put on, I'd think she wouldn't show her face here ever again."

Xander perked up. "Show?"

Cordelia rolled her eyes. "God. Aren't you ever on anything BUT Hormonal Overdrive?"

Xander shrugged and looked towards the dance floor, but he couldn't tell to whom Cordy was referring. As they made their way to the bar, Xander noted Spike's unease. His eyes were practically rolling back in his head. Xander got the distinct impression that Spike would have loved to bolt from the club, but he stood his ground and moved with them to a table on the balcony. Xander also observed Aidan, noting that the older guy was watching the door intently. *Poor sap* he thought. *Doesn't have a chance around Angel. I should know.*

As if on cue, Buffy and Angel walked into the club. The hauntingly melodic sound of a tolling bell came from the stereo system. Xander couldn't quite keep himself from drooling over the sight of her, but then his attention was drawn to the tall man standing next to her. "That's Angel," he told Aidan, nodding towards the doorway. Aidan didn't reply, merely smiled.

Buffy looked around and spotted the group on the upper level. She tugged on Angel's hand, but he was staring onto the dance floor as if he were seeking something extremely important. After a moment he turned and walked up with her.

She smiled as she saw Xander and Cordy. "Xander? What are you doing here?" However, her face lost her smile when she spotted Spike. Then Aidan. "Woah. What are you doing here?" It was unclear as to which one she meant.

"We're on a recon mission," Xander told her. He could see that Buffy was none too pleased that Spike and/or Aidan were here. She seemed to be enthralled, however, at Spike's condition.

"Is he gonna be OK? And what do you mean 'recon'?"

"We're here to bring you back, dear," Aidan said as he stood up and wrapped his arms around her. "I was worried about you," he whispered as he lowered his lips to hers.

Buffy drew back with a wary smile, barely containing a shudder at his kiss. *What am I doing?* she thought. *This is my boyfriend. I'm supposed to crave his smoochies. Why am I not loving this? Angel.* Yet she knew it wasn't his fault. It was her own. "I told Willow where I'd be if anyone needed me."

Aidan looked at her disapprovingly. "A note hidden in a text book can hardly be called 'telling', love."

"A wha-?" She noticed Xander's manic hand motions. "Oh. Yeah. Well. I, uh, I didn't wanna wake her. She was so tired from the night before. And, uh, you know Will. Always a bookworm. I figured it'd take her no time to find it. You know - most logical place to put it if you want Willow to find it."

Aidan looked at her suspiciously, but then smiled. "Yeah. I suppose. Besides, she did find it, didn't she?"

Buffy nodded weakly. "Oh, um, Aidan this is Angel," she motioned to Angel. "Angel, this is my *boyfriend*, Aidan."

"A pleasure," Angel murmured with concealed dislike as he extended his hand to shake.

"Likewise," Aidan replied slyly.

Spike stood up, bumping the table. He looked extremely sick. "I've got to get out of here," he mumbled, dashing out of the club.

"What's his sitch?" Buffy asked, looking after him.

"I think his hangover finally caught up to him." Xander told her.

Buffy quirked a brow and looked at him.

"Drusilla," he said in explanation.

"Ahhhh." She smiled slightly in the ensuing uncomfortable silence. She pretended she didn't feel Angel's hand in the small of her back.

"Wanna dance?" Aidan asked her. She jumped at the opportunity to escape and he led her downstairs.

Cordelia and Xander noticed Angel's glower. "Jealous?" Xander asked, somewhat gleefully.

Angel glared at him. "I don't trust him."

"Would that be because he *isn't* a bloodsucking Hellbeast?"

"Cool it Xander. Can't you grow up for one nanosecond. If Angel says he doesn't trust him, maybe we should look into him."

Xander looked at her disbelievingly. "What? You're on *his* side?"

"Well I'm certainly not on yours. Besides, Angel's saved my life plenty of times. I trust him."

Xander threw his hands up in disgust and stormed off.

"I have to say this isn't a very Brady reunion," Cordy said as she and Angel were left all alone.

However, his attention was on the slim girl on the edge of the dance floor. She looked up at him and for a brief instant dark eyes met light. Then she vanished in the shadows.

"Earth to Angel," Cordy sang out.

"What?" Angel asked, dazed.

She threw him a disgusted look, similar to Xander's, and looked down at the floor. Angel followed her gaze to where Buffy and Aidan were dancing close together. Cordelia picked up his hand. "Come on. We're going dancing." He followed as she walked down the steps. He couldn't help but admire the poise with which she moved. She sidled up next to the cozy couple and he noticed Willow and Oz were on the other side. With a meaningful glance to Buffy, she wrapped her arms around Angel's neck and drew him close.

Buffy's grip on Aidan tightened as she watched Cordelia lead Angel into a particularly close dance. Her eyes flashed and she tried hard to restrain herself from jumping the tall girl. She looked up at Angel. He was bent down to listen to something Cordelia was whispering to him. He threw his head back and laughed. Buffy had never really seen him that carefree. She turned her jealous gaze from the pair and lost herself in the music.

"Just pretend you don't notice them," Cordelia was whispering. She looked out of the corner of her eyes. Indeed they had a captive audience. "Now laugh," she told him.

Angel looked down at her. "Excuse me?"

"You want her to want you, don't you?"

"I just want her to be happy."

"Yeah. Ok. Now try telling that to someone who can't see the look in your eyes. Now laugh. Or I'll step all over your feet." She gazed at Xander. "And believe me, I learned from the best," she muttered.

Angel automatically threw his head back and began to laugh, a rich baritone sound. He knew far too well what Cordelia's stiletto heels could do.

The dance ended and the couples split apart. The group moved to the side in order to resume their conversations. A slow ballad began and Angel looked at Buffy. Her face was downcast and she wasn't paying attention. He saw Willow ask her something, but she didn't even hear her. He moved to her side.

"Dance with me." It wasn't so much a question as it was a command.

Before she even knew what was happening, she'd placed her hand in his and they were moving back out onto the dance floor. It was pretty vacant, as most patrons wanted to dance to the fast songs. Cordelia smirked as she watched the two. Aidan watched on, no appearance of happiness or anger marring his handsome face. The talk between the members died out as they watched the two dance.

Without any guidance but instinct, Buffy slipped her arms around Angel's waist and pulled herself close to him. His hands were cool through the thin material of her camisole. He slid them slowly, up and down her back, in a soothing manner. She rested her head on his chest as their bodies moved flush together in a rhythm that was older than time. He bowed his head, her sweet scent intoxicating him.

All night you'd lay asleep

Enfolded in my arms

Breathing slow and sweet

I never understood

How it would prove to be

Such a luxury to feel

Your hand warm in my hand

Your kiss on my cheek

For Buffy, the world seemed to disappear within the circle of his arms. She never wanted the moment to end. She wanted to spend eternity in his embrace.

Angel rested his forehead against the top of her head. He didn't care who was watching them. He listened to the music, to her breathing, to her heartbeat. He wanted to hold her forever.

Lovers and friends are all that matter

You'll never know how much you came to mean to me To have you by my side

Through battles lost at war

Willow sighed sadly for her friend. This was not working out the way she'd planned. Buffy was supposed to be with Aidan. Of course, deep down she knew Buffy would never love anyone as she loved Angel. Soulmates. Yes, that term fit them beautifully. As long as Angel was around, Buffy wouldn't have a chance of moving on with her life. She leaned back against Oz and felt his warm arms encompass her. She smiled to herself, then felt guilty. What right did she have to enjoy the safe, loving embrace of her boyfriend, when her best friend was out there being torn to shreds? She sighed again and hoped it would all work out right.

And now I understand

These things can never be guaranteed

I wish I could recall

Each mundane tenderness

Remember every look

Each word

Preserve every breath

Each kiss

Each caress...

"This isn't right," Buffy whispered against his chest. Her fingers were buried deep within the folds of his dark burgundy sweater.

"It feels right," he murmured softly into her hair.

"Because you and I....." she sighed. "What I want from you, you can't give me."

He stiffened at her words. "You're right."

They continued to dance in silence.

...Lovers and friends are all that matter And now when all I have of you

Is a memory

I raise my hand to touch my cheek

Imprinted with your love.

They lingered as the music faded. He was the one to back away. He touched her cheek lightly. "I'll always love you, Buffy." With that, he turned on his heel and disappeared into the crowd that was already gathering for the next dance.

She stood in the shadows and watched as Spike clutched at his head, trying to cease the endless pounding. As she sauntered up behind him, she felt only a twinge of guilt as he doubled over from the pain, the closer she got to him. She laid a hand on his shoulder and felt his body go rigid at her touch.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't William the Bloody," Kiara drawled.

Spike looked up to her, his eyes wild with pain. "What are you?" he practically screeched.

Kiara took pity on him. For the moment. She knelt down beside him and rested her hands on either side of his face. She gazed deeply into his eyes, forging a tentative mindlink.

Immediately he sagged in relief, the pain becoming a hazy memory. When he looked up at her, he'd morphed into his game face and was ready to pounce on her.

"Now, now, Spike. Don't forget what I can do to you." She twisted the link mentally and he growled at the sharp jab of pain. She backed off and stood up. As she turned around to face the club he ran his hands through his hair and stood shakily. His gaze roamed over the mysterious woman, and though she'd caused him much anguish he had to smile. She was small. She was only a child. She reminded him of a sane Dru. Of course, thinking of Dru sent him back to his melancholia.

Kiara turned around to face Spike. She looked up at him and it was the first good look at her he'd had. She could have taken his breath away, if he'd been breathing. She watched as his eyes roamed hungrily over her. "You're pathetic, you know?" she told him.

"Excuse me?" he asked menacingly.

"Thinking of your poor lost Drusilla and then standing there looking ready to devour me. And I don't mean that in the vampy sense of the word. It's really sad. I mean, what's that say about your *eternal love*?"

"What would you know about love, pet?"

"More than you could ever imagine," she whispered huskily.

His eyes darkened and he once again looked her over. Her skin looked so smooth, even beneath the glaring white light of the street lamp. Her hair cascaded over her shoulder like a black silk veil. He sucked in the useless air as he took a gander at what she was wearing. The silver silk shimmered as it clung to her body. He supposed this was what would be called a "slip dress", but he didn't know if the piece qualified as a whole dress. The silver fabric was only about fifteen inches long, trimmed with about three inches of black scalloped lace at the top and the bottom. It barely covered anything, and his fingers itched to slide an errant slim strap back upon her shoulder. Or to run up that disgraceful slit on the front left side. In truth, he doubted there was anything under the thin piece of cloth. He took in the silver stars of her eyes, sparkling with amusement as she watched him watch her. But she pulled off the daring outfit and he had to admit she looked magnificent. *Like a panther on the prowl* he thought as he took in her sleek grace. The fact that she'd brought him to his knees only moments earlier had not escaped him.

"You should be fine, now," she told him.

"What?"

"You know. To go back in," she said, nodding to the crowded club.

"Oh. Right. Well, I'm sure they're just awaiting my return with baited breath."

"Mmmmm. Well, feel free to stay outside. It'll be sunrise soon. See ya." She turned with a smile and strode back into the shadows, disappearing down the street.

Spike watched her walk, the sway of her hips hypnotizing him. He heard her voice in his head. *Thinking of your poor lost Drusilla and then standing there looking ready to devour me.* He grinned. Maybe she was right. Dru was out of his life forever. She'd made that perfectly clear. "Time for the predator to become the prey," he murmured. With a cocky smile, he strolled back into the club.

***

It was Monday morning and Giles hadn't heard anything from anybody. He'd planned on driving to L.A. shortly after Willow and the guys had left, but things with Joyce had escalated to a point where they'd had to sit down and talk everything over. He never wondered if their hasty marriage was right or wrong. There was a child involved, and Giles was both overjoyed and horrified. Actually, scared might have been a better word. He was afraid of Buffy's reaction to the new situation. But he was also suffering major anxiety over whether or not he'd be a good father. He looked down at the slender woman nestled next to him in his bed and was overcome by a surge of protective feelings. They'd admitted to each other that they weren't in love. At least, not yet. But there was no denying the spark between them. He was very attracted to her - had been even before the whole....incident.

He laid his hand on her stomach. She was only yet beginning to show, he realized. He was going to be a father.

A knock sounded on his apartment door and he struggled to disentangle himself from her grasp. He slipped on a blue terrycloth robe and answered the door.

Whistler nodded to him. "I'm Whistler," he said.

Giles moved to allow him entry and watched as the demon walked in. He had to admit, he looked fairly harmless. "Is there, uh, something I can do for you, errr, Mr. Whistler?"

"Just Whistler. And I was thinking that there's something I could do for you."

Two hours later, Giles and Joyce were both dressed immaculately and seated on Giles' couch. They'd listened as Whistler told them of the true prophecy. Giles comforted his new bride as she cried on his shoulder.

"So you're telling me that no matter what, Angelus is back?" Giles had demanded.

"Yes. Most likely, he's already turned."

"What in the Hell where you thinking, bringing that monster back?" Joyce yelled.

Whistler answered her honestly. "I was thinking that your daughter would be able to prevent him from getting out of hand...." Giles shot him a dark look. "But I may have overestimated the amount of control she has over herself. I knew she loved him. As I know that they are destined to be together. But, before this is settled, I'm afraid Angelus may be able to commit quite a bit of damage. Also...."

Giles stood up. "Also what?!?!"

Whistler had enough sense to at least sound meek. "Spike is with him."

"Oh jolly good. Why don't we just bring Hitler back and invoke the bloody Trinity?" Giles asked sarcastically.

Whistler sighed. "I'm not sure what side Spike is playing for. Actually, Spike seems to have his own side where these things are concerned."

"So you're saying that Buffy is in Los Angeles with two vampires and she's probably unaware of what's really going on?" Joyce asked, on the verge of hysteria.

"I'm saying," Whistler told her, "that Buffy is in L.A. and she is aware of danger. But," he shot Giles a look, "I think she may have a misconception about from whence that danger stems."

Giles wrapped his arms around Joyce and she looked up at him. "What does he mean? she asked him.

"I think he's trying to say that Buffy isn't in any danger from outside forces, but from herself."

Joyce pushed away from Giles and straightened to her full height. She stalked determinedly over to Whistler. "What exactly are you trying to tell me about *my* daughter, Mr. Whistler?"

"I telling you," Whistler said none too kindly, "that your daughter is in danger from herself. She only sees what she wants to believe. She trusts those she shouldn't, and doesn't trust those she should. And if she doesn't wisen up soon, she might not live to regret it."

***

Willow and Buffy sat outside in Angel's courtyard. The sun shined down on them and the flowers bloomed vibrantly around them. Buffy inhaled and once again marveled at the life around her. It was a place she was sure Angel would never be able to enjoy fully.

"So what's the verdict?" Willow asked her.

"Huh?"

"You still love him, don't you?" her voice was soft.

"Of course I do. But...it doesn't matter. We're not together."

"That's not how it seemed last night."

"Oh Will. Last night was just business. We were looking for some of his business contacts."

"C'mon Buffy. We all saw you two last night. It was almost as tragic as...as...as 'Titanic' or..or 'Romeo and Juliet'," Willow said.

Buffy smiled slightly, her eyes on the stone pathway through the garden.

Willow's gaze moved to the open French doors. She thought of the two unsuspecting vampires sleeping inside.

"Dammit, it's not OK, Buffy. This is - is hurting you. Yes, we all wanted things to work out between Angel and you, but it didn't. And you're not moving on. You've got to get over this. I know you're afraid to love. Afraid that you'll get hurt again. But you have to get passed that if you really want to be happy again."

Buffy shivered as Willow's words rang true. "Maybe you're right."

Willow looked indignant. "Of course I'm right. I'm wisdom-gem girl. I'm always right."

Buffy laughed slightly. "I miss being happy. I miss being able to laugh at everything."

Willow was quiet when she answered. "You've got the chance right in front of you."

"Aidan?"

"He's a good guy. And - and he really cares about you, Buffy. Would he be here if he didn't? Hell, would he subject himself to Cordy if he didn't?"

Buffy laughed louder. "You've got a point there."

Willow smiled. "See? What'd I tell ya? Wisdom-gem girl to the rescue."

Buffy laughed. "Seize the Fish."

***

"So, where'd you head off to last night, Spike?" Xander asked, reclining on Cordy's loveseat.

"What's it to ya?"

"Come on, Junior. Tell," Xander nagged,

Spike smiled lewdly. "Maybe I got lucky."

"Oh? Is that what they're callin' a bite these days?"

"No, my dear boy. It's what I'm calling the goddess I met last night. The likes of which you would never get your hands on."

"Oh? Is that so? And what about your precious Dru?"

Spike's eyes narrowed and in a flash he's toppled Xander to the ground, his long fingers squeezing the life out of his throat.

"Woah," Xander choked out. "Why does this always have to happen to me?"

Aidan strolled out of the bathroom just then. With one look at the situation, he picked up one of the lamps and smashed it over Spike's head. Spike let Xander go and turned on Aidan. Pieces of the lamp were scattered at his feet.

Xander looked up. "Cordy's not going to like that," he said, just before passing out.

Aidan looked at Spike. "C'mon man. I don't want any trouble from you."

Spike growled menacingly and took a step towards Aidan. "Number one, I'm not your *man*. And number two, don't you ever do anything like that again, unless," he nodded to Xander, "you want to end up worse than my amigo over there."

Aidan shrugged and walked past him. He knelt beside Xander to see if he was okay.

"Did anyone catch the number of that bus?" Xander asked as he came around.

"Hey. Shower's yours," Aidan said, giving him a hand up.

"Thanks," Xander mumbled, thinking maybe Aidan wasn't so bad afterall.

Aidan sat on the loveseat where Xander had been moments before. Spike settled back down across from him. They stared, measuring each other up.

Oz found them this way an hour later. "Woah," he said. "Major starage goin' on, eh? I get the feeling we're not just trying to see who can go the longest without blinking."

With one last, meaningful glance at Aidan, Spike turned to Oz. "Hey Oz. How are you this fine afternoon?"

"Ooooh. I'm excited. Can't you tell?" He looked at Spike blankly.

"Careful, mate. You might rile the neighbors."

"Yeah," Oz said. "I get that a lot."

"So, what's got you in such a tizzy?"

"Willow," Oz replied, a small smile threatening to shine through.

"Ahhhh. Red. Don't blame ya, mate. She looks delicious."

Oz stared at him.

Spike grinned evilly. "In a purely non-bloodsucking way, of course."

"Mmmm." Oz moved to the kitchen to make a sandwich, letting the subject drop.

Xander walked out minutes later and spotted Oz. "Hey, Oz. Where's Will?"

Oz took a bite of his lunch. "Mwf Bwffwy."

Xander nodded. "Cool. We still on for tonight?"

Oz nodded.

"Oh yeah!" Xander exclaimed. "I'm so ready for some red hot monkey love."

The three guys turned to stare at him as if he were crazy.

"What? Why do I always get that look when I say that?"

The guys mumbled to themselves and went back to what they were doing.

***

The dream was different this time...

He stood in the middle of the lavish boudoir and looked around, intrigued by her various possessions. The room itself was an anomaly to him. Not what he was used to. It was a large room, but gave off the appearance of an unearthly light. She'd decorated it in bright whites and ivorys, the furnishings were finely carved from polished mahogany. What held his attention most, however, was the massive ornate gilt mirror hung over her vanity. It, of course, did not reflect either of them. He hated the room. It was so humane. He looked over his shoulder and saw the girl resting on the plush white velvet cushions of her window seat. It amazed him that he'd been with the weak vampiress for five years. He could feel the steel core that ran through her, but she didn't hunt, didn't ravage, didn't torture. *She could have been one of the greats* he thought wistfully. She disgusted him in her mortal facade. And it only enraged him more to know that she did not do it purposefully. She truly was as good and innocent as she seemed. Her purity burned him. But he could not leave her. She was his obsession. The passion that she inspired in him never ceased to amaze him. He'd never known such a hunger could be felt. She enticed him to a frenzied bloodlust, yet soothed him at the same time. Oddly enough, he never left her embrace wanting. Actually, when he left her presence he felt neither the need to feed nor to pillage. Not to say he didn't still kill and revel in his cruelty, in his demon. It was his favorite past time. *Well, second favorite* he thought, looking at Kiara. It sickened him. She made him feel almost....human.

He despised her. He craved her. He ached to break her.

She turned, feeling his eyes upon her. Her smile was sure and quick to come. He tossed the garment in his hands to her. "Put this on," he commanded.

She lifted the sheer fabric in her small hands and stood up. There was a quiet curiosity in her gaze as she walked behind the silk screen in the corner. Angelus had ordered her to put a standing candelabra behind the screen and he was now rewarded for his idea.

He leaned against her armoire and watched the lines of her lithe body as she slipped out of her clothes and into his creation. As she moved from behind the shade he pushed off of the armoire and strode towards her. He held her at arms length and looked her over. It startled him every time he saw her that her complexion was not pale as was the norm. Her tanned skin shadowed itself beneath the filmy white gauze of the gown. It hid nothing and accentuated everything. He smiled slightly as he noticed the fabric was pulled almost tautly over the gentle swell of her breasts.

He rubbed his cold hands over the smooth skin of her shoulders, cupping them behind her neck. His gazed roamed over her, enjoying the sight of the thin fabric clinging to her long, slender legs. He slowly slid one hand from behind her neck, down between her full breasts, over the firm muscles of her stomach, to lightly caress the shadowy 'V' at the juncture of her thighs. She sighed and arched into him. Angelus grinned maliciously as he withdrew his hands. Her eyes flew open in shock and then she smiled.

"Oh my Angel," she sighed.

He'd gotten used to the name, but it still unsettled him. He nodded towards the large canopy bed which sat on a raised dais in the middle of the room. "Over there," he ordered her.

She climbed onto the luxurious bed, settling into the soft nest of white bedclothes and down pillows. He watched her critically before pulling up a tall wingbacked chair and sitting down at the foot of the bed. Her side was to him, but her knees were slightly raised and her arms wrapped loosely around them, forming a pillow for her head as she turned to watch him. He silky black hair cascaded like a waterfall down her back and curled around the folds in the sheets. He pulled out his sketch book and a sharpened stick of charcoal. His fingers flew as he began to draw her.

They'd done this many times before. Her eyes were dancing with laughter as she watched him. "Oh my Angel. What am I going to do with you?"

He was intent upon sketching the soft lines and curves of her body, but he felt his hard lips curve into a half smile. "Dunno, luv. I'm sure you can think of something to do with me....for me...to me.....after I'm finished with this."

She was the epitome of a woman-child. She was innocence and sexual awareness, love and desire. It proved to be a juxtaposition he could not ignore. And so he sketched her body at every chance. Yet it wasn't the physical beauty he was after. It was her essence; through his drawings he sought to find out what it was about her that enchanted him so.

He painstakingly drew her. But it was the eyes that completed the picture. They were different this time. He didn't know how he captured it, but the eyes shone out of the picture with all the love, grace, empathy and desire she held inside. He wanted to rip it to shreds. He stood up and placed it on her vanity table, watching as for once she was reflected in the giant mirror on her wall. She smiled at him as he walked towards her. He reminded her of a caged lion, dangerous and waiting to break free. He stepped up on the dais and rested one knee against the edge of the bed as he leaned over her. He braced himself with one hand on the bed, letting the other trail up her leg and along the outside of her thigh. He smiled as her eyes darkened to a steely gray.

Angelus lifted his hand and placed it on her shoulder, pushing her back onto the bed while he smoothed out the sheets and blankets, making her as comfortable as possible. He loomed over her and slid his leg over both of hers, effectively pinning her to the bed. He cocked his head as he looked down at her; he could smell how aroused she was. As it mixed with that ever-present scent of jasmine, he growled, feeling the dull pain of hunger stirring within him. Her hand reached up to draw him down for a kiss. Angelus teased her, nipping at her bottom lip, his tongue dipping elusively between her parted lips. He heard her moan deep within her throat and he submitted to her waiting mouth. Their tongues sparred with each other and he lost himself in her taste. She was sweet and soft, willing and yearning to please.

His fingers entwined with hers as he pinned her hands above her head. He moved over her, unconsciously rubbing his growing erection against her. She raised her hips, seeking greater contact. As she writhed beneath him, he caught his senses and leaned back. The look in his eyes was wicked as he removed one of his hands and lightly touched her cheek. He slipped his knee between her legs and parted her thighs with tantalizing slowness. She gasped as she felt his finger slide over her through the thin, silky material. He taunted her with light caresses here and there, his hand tickling the insides of her thighs. Her silver eyes were pleading with him.

"Beg me," he commanded softly.

Her soft red lips parted and her eyes sparked with fire. He loved antagonizing her. "Never," she hissed.

He smiled flippantly and lazily zigzagged a path over her cleft, teasing the sensitive flesh. He could feel the wetness seeping out between her legs. "Mmmmm. Your choice," he murmured.

Her hips arched upwards in a vain attempt. "Uh-uh-uh," he told her, pushing her back down. "No cheating, dearest."

Her eyes were hazy with need. "Please," she whispered.

"Now that wasn't so hard, was it?" He slipped his fingertip inside her and rubbed her core of sensitivity, smiling at her hoarse gasp. Gathering the excess fabric, he slipped two fingers inside her hot, wet center. Despite her cold demeanor, she was burning inside. He moaned as he felt her struggling beneath him. "Be a good girl," he gritted out between clenched teeth, "or I might just stop altogether." She could tell he was bluffing, but she settled down anyway. As he began to stroke her she had to stop herself from whimpering. Every time he thrust into her, his fingers pulled the thin fabric, causing it to graze and rub her clit. The simultaneous stimulation quickly drove her over the edge and she tensed around his fingers. Noticing that she was almost there, he quickly withdrew his fingers and shoved the gown above her hips. Before she could even cry out at his absence, he'd replaced his fingers with his mouth. At the touch of his tongue she spasmed around him. Her fingers were buried in his hair, holding him as she rocked up against him. He licked her tangy-sweet juices from her and leaned up from between her legs, leering down at her.

She lifted her hand to his face. "My Angel, my Angel, my Angel, my Angel...." she softly chanted over and over as she traced his features possessively. He didn't mind it this time.

He climbed over her and lowered his body to hers. His lips caught hers in an unexpectedly sweet kiss that she had no choice but to surrender to. As he pulled away from her, his hands slipped between their bodies. He heard her gasp quietly as he tore the gown right down the middle and slid it from her body.

"Wha-?" She was cut off by another swift kiss. This was designed to catch her off guard as he captured her hands and tied them firmly to the bedpost with the torn gown. She backed away slightly and looked at him, her hot eyes roaming over his body.

"I think you have far too many clothes on," she told him.

Angelus grinned at her and shrugged out of his coat. It was followed quickly by his white silk shirt. Her gaze practically scalded him. He slowly unbuttoned his black trousers and slid them down over his hips. Her eyes widened appreciatively as his arousal sprang free. He kicked his pants off over his already bare feet and looked down at her. "Stop looking at me that way or we won't be able to enjoy this," he growled at her. The bright smile on her face showed him that she knew he was only playing with her. "I do so love seeing you tied up and helpless," he told her. The hunger was screaming inside of him.

His fingertips trailed lightly over her breasts. He ran his palms over her erect nipples and she shivered under him. "Cold?" he whispered.

She laughed breathlessly. "Extremely hot," she corrected him.

Angelus chuckled, the sound foreign to his own ears, and cupped her breasts. He leaned down as she arched into his hands. He placed feather-light kisses at the base of her neck and trailed them down between the smooth, full mounds. His tongue traced circles around one of the hardened pebbles before drawing it into his mouth to suckle it. He teased the other nipple with the pad of his thumb before pinching and twisting it till the point of pleasure-pain. She moaned loudly and ran her foot up and over the back of his thigh, to hook her leg around his waist. Her hips rocked upwards, enjoying the feel as the length of his cock rubbed back and forth against her slit. Knowing that her fierce desire was only a shadow of his intense need, Angelus rose to kneel in front of her. His hands made a light path over her body, wrapping around her as he reached her waist and caressing the tight, silky cheeks of her ass. He held her thighs from behind and slowly parted them as he moved closer to her center.

His scorching gaze never left hers as he positioned himself to enter her. With a vicious smile he lifted her left leg over his shoulder and held the right one hooked over his hip. He slid the tip of his shaft inside her ever so slowly and held her down as she tried to move. Every inch he leaned forward, the more he slipped inside her tight, hot, slick confines, and the more he spread her open to him. "Tell me what you want," he told her.

Kiara tossed her head and her arms were taught against her bindings. Her eyes were like silver sparks as she looked up at him, passion burning in her gaze like a wildfire. "I....want you...to....."

"To...?" he provoked her.

"I want you to fuck me," she bit out harshly.

"Always ready to oblige," he said, and rammed into her violently. She screamed out and felt like she was being torn apart. He drew out slowly, letting her get used to the feel of him. However, she immediately bucked her hips under him, seeking the return of his thick, rigid cock. With a grin he slid into her and began to establish a slow, sensuous rhythm. Her head tilted back as they moved together. His long, slow strokes became harder as he eyed the sleek curve of her neck. Her eyes opened and they held each other's gazes as they made love.

He could see everything she felt for him in those guileless eyes. So silver. They reminded Angelus of the large mirror, so big and glossy. And yet, here in her eyes, he could see his reflection. And he loathed himself. He thrust into her, savoring the feel of her wetness sliding over him and onto the bedding beneath them. He listened as the sound of their bodies slapping together filled the room. He smelled their combined scents. And he lost control. He ripped the tattered gauze from her wrists, needing to feel her hands upon his body. Immediately he could feel her grasping at his muscled back, her nails digging into his skin. As he pumped into her over and over, he let her leg slide down his arm and she wrapped both of her legs around his waist, allowing him deeper entry. He drove into her like a wild animal, no set rhythm though she followed his lead effortlessly. It was fast and hard. Angelus heard a deafening noise, and realized it was he who was growling so loudly. Without even looking at her, he knew his game face had presented itself. Her nails drew his blood and he could smell it. All of the muscles in his body tensed as he lowered her gently back down to the bed, never stopping. He could tell she was almost to the brink of this madness. Gazing into the blazing silver pools of her eyes, he leaned over her. He felt her begin to tense around him and reveled in the feeling of her velvet warmth spasming around him. With a snarl he buried himself in her tight channel. Her back arched up off of the bed, and as her muscles tightened around him he almost cried out at the sweet pain. Her black hair fanned out around her. She met him thrust for thrust as he felt his own orgasm rising within him.

"I love you, My Angel," she whispered.

Angelus roared and sank his fangs into the tender flesh of her neck. In his subconscious he was aware that she too had her fangs buried within his own neck, and that the cycle of blood passed between them was only heightening their climax. As she clenched around him one last time, he plunged into her - jarring both of their bodies, but breaking neither bond - and felt both his seed and his blood spill into her.

Hazily he realized that....

Angel woke with a yell and was surprised to find that he was covered in a cold sweat.

Both Buffy and Willow came running into the apartment from outside, worried looks upon their innocent faces. He was gasping for breath though he did not need it. From the way they were watching him, he was sure he was a mess. He could tell from the open doors that it was dusk. He looked around. "Where's Kiara?" he asked sharply.

Buffy was taken aback by his behaviour. "I...she must still be sleeping."

He nodded, trying to gather his wits. The dream was still with him though, and he was shaken. He knew there was something he was supposed to remember, but he didn't know what it was....

"The gang's gonna be here in about an hour, if you wanna get cleaned up," Willow offered hesitantly.

Angel nodded to her. He tried to muster a kind smile for them, but found it was not in him. He stood up wearily and walked into his room. Again Kiara was not there. He did not understand, but he didn't dwell on it. He picked out a suit and went to take a shower.

***

The group strolled aimlessly into The Inferno. It hadn't been a pleasant ride over. Buffy was curled up in Aidan's lap and Angel refused to talk to anyone. It didn't seem as if he was pouting, merely preoccupied. Cordy and Xander were bickering childishly in the back and Spike watched on, thoroughly disgusted with the whole lot of them. Only Willow and Oz were immune to it all, because they were only focused on each other.

They immediately split up when they entered the dark room. Buffy, Aidan, Willow and Oz charged the dance floor. Willow gave Buffy a thumbs up sign, happy that she seemed to be consciously making an effort to remain with her *boyfriend* for the night. Cordelia snagged the nearest hot guy, who jumped at the chance to do the beauty's bidding. Xander watched this with a sneer. Spike and Angel were immediately aware of a strange presence in the room, which was explained as soon as the crowd split. Kiara was sitting on a black leather couch about twenty feet away from the door. There were men crowding around her, but Spike could still make out her svelte form. He noticed with a grin that the dress she had on was almost an exact replica of the one from the night before, only done in a shimmery blood red. It wet his appetite. He walked towards her, unaware that Xander was on his heels, with Angel trailing them both.

"'Allo, luv" he said, the ever present smirk on his face widening to a grin as he saw the shock in her eyes.

"Why Spike," she purred. "What? Now that I don't bring you to your knees, you feel brave enough to walk right up to me? Are you sure I won't bite, *luv*?"

His eyes narrowed. "I look forward to having your mouth on me, pet," he replied smoothly.

Xander threw his arm around Spike's shoulder. "So you're telling me this is how that charm thing works? And here I thought it was that sexy British accent that got you all the gals." His dark eyes roamed over Kiara and he whistled in stunned appreciation. "You're right. She is a goddess."

Her eyes wandered over Spike, then to Xander with a warm smile. "Hi. We haven't met. You wanna dance?"

Xander's eyes got big. "Y-y-yeah. S-s-sure -" he stuttered.

"I think not," Angel said, pushing his way between the two of them. "There will be no dancing with either of these two."

Both Spike and Xander turned on him, ready to fight. Angel ignored them. "Now," he said. "Why don't we start with you telling me where you've been. And how you keep leaving my home."

Kiara's eyes were a cool silver as she appraised him. "I was under the impression that almost anybody could work a doorknob. However, if you need assistance, I'll be happy to help you."

Spike snickered.

Angel watched her, unsure of her new mood towards him. Suddenly, it came to him. He looked deeply into her eyes. "You've been having them too, haven't you?" he asked softly.

She looked away. "I don't know what you're talking about."

He smiled. "You can't fool me, Kiara." He knelt down in front of her. "You know what this is doing to me. And I can see what it's doing to you. Why don't you tell me how to stop this before it destroys us all?" He wanted it to stop. He wanted the hunger and desire to leave him. He was used to having to control his darker side, but what she made him feel was almost too much.

When she looked back to him he thought he saw tears in her eyes. "I can't do that."

"Yes, you can," he urged her.

Spike hauled Angel up by his shoulders and thrust him away. "Why don't you just leave the lady alone, peaches?"

Angel wrapped his fists in the lapels of Spike's leather trench and dragged him forward. "You have no idea what you're getting involved in, Spike. Why are you here anyway? Shouldn't you be pining over Dru?"

"It's because of you, you bloody prick, that she won't have anything to do with me anymore. She says I'll never be the same again. That I'm only a shadow of what I used to be."

Angel threw Spike away from him. "Maybe she's right."

Kiara stood and moved between them. "Boys," she glanced back and forth between them. She pushed Spike onto the couch. "You sit." She pushed Angel towards the dance floor. "You dance." She smiled at Xander. "And you. Maybe we can have that dance another time." She looked wisely across the room towards Cordelia. Cordy was talking and laughing and reigning as the May Queen. "But for now, I think there's someone else you need more."

Xander looked at her, realizing she was older and wiser than she appeared. In his heart he wanted to be with Cordy, and this girl saw that. He nodded, bemusedly, and walked off.

Kiara sat down next to Spike and watched as the other two men retreated.

He grinned lasciviously as she turned to him. "Ahhh....now that we're alone -"

"Hardly," she cut him off. "Come find me when you're ready to control your hormones, *luv*." She smiled at him and danced off into the shadows once again.

He cursed lowly and watched speculatively as Angel approached the Slayer and her new boy toy.

Aidan smiled down at Buffy. Her arms were tight around him and she'd rested her head upon his chest. "So, how was your day?"

She sighed softly. "It was ok. Willow and I had a long talk. She....she helped point out to me that I need to make some choices."

"Oh really? What kind of choices?" His gaze was dark and wary as he listened to her.

Buffy shrugged. "Just that I may need to get over this moping to the max. She hinted that I may be....errr....may be making a mistake in the people I choose to be around."

Aidan was about to question this when Angel walked up to them.

Angel laid his hand softly on Buffy's shoulder. "Can we talk? About this afternoon?"

Buffy looked up to him, hesitant to agree. However, she was unable to deny him. With a smile to Aidan, she moved with Angel. Her sigh was different this time as her eyes wandered over him. He was beautiful in the soft black suit and starkly contrasting white silk shirt. It was only when Angel put his arms around her that she realized they were on the dance floor. *Oh no, not this again.* The music had yet to start and the crowd was milling about.

"I want to apologize for this afternoon," he said.

"What's it?"

He exhaled loudly. "I shouldn't...I shouldn't have been so...."

"Been so what, Angel?" she looked up at him. "There's no way you have to be. Especially since...."

Unconsciously they began moving together, both lost in their own thoughts and regrets.

What ravages of Spirit, conjured this tempestuous rage Created you a monster, broken by the rule of Love And fate has led you through it

You do what you have to do

And fate has led you though it

You do what you have to do

I had the sense to recognize

That I don't know how to let you go

With a moan Willow observed Buffy and Angel over Oz's shoulder.

"Why do we keep doing this?" Buffy mused aloud. "Why do we torture ourselves? I know I can't be near you, but I can't stay away from you either."

He cupped her face in his hands. "I let you go once. Because I know it's the best for you. But I love you so much. I don't know if I know how to let you go again."

Every moment marked with apparitions of your soul I'm ever swiftly moving trying to escape this desire The yearning to be near you

I do what I have to do

The yearning to be near you

I do what I have to do

And I had the sense to recognize

That I don't know how to let you go

I don't know how to let you go

As the pair danced, they listened to the music. As if on cue, they looked at each other and burst out laughing.

"How perfect, huh?" he asked, wiping away the tears of mirth from her lovely green eyes.

She smiled her thousand watt smile and it warmed his heart. They wrapped their arms around each other, holding each other in a tight, platonic embrace. "You were my greatest friend, Angel. Maybe that's why I loved you so much. I could tell you anything. And I knew, that in some way, you'd always understand."

A glowing ember burning hot

And burning slow

Deep within I'm shaken

By the violence of existing for only you I know I can't be with you

I do what I have to do

I know I can't be with you

I do what I have to do

And I had the sense to recognize

But I don't know how to let you go

I don't know how to let you go

I don't know how to let you go

"I'm not happy, Angel. I...I don't know if I ever can be. Everyone says that you move on. You get over it. But..."

"Shhhh," he told her, placing his fingertips over her soft lips. "I know I may not be the best one to ask, but I don't know if they're right. I'm never just going to 'get over' you Buffy. You'll be with me forever. You're my heart. But the truth of the matter is, you don't need me in your life. It's better for you if I'm not around. And when I have to face things, I know that I would have to let you go eventually. And-"

She looked up at him, her eyes burning furiously. "Don't! Don't you tell me what's *best* for me. I live my life. I go out there and do what I have to do, knowing it just may be the last night I see. But it's my life, and I've come to grips with it. This is who I am. I didn't want it to turn out this way. I didn't want to be the Chosen One. I didn't ask for it. But then, my life isn't ruled by the logical. When everything else is dictated to me by Councils or prophecies or demons trying to even the score....don't you tell me how I should love." She spun around and stalked off.

Angel felt like he was falling. The room began to spin. He was torn in the confusion of emotions. Buffy was walking away and he wanted to stop her, but he felt as if he couldn't move. The pull on him from an unnamed source was too great. There was a war going on inside of him and he couldn't even make a sound. In one calm place, deep inside of himself, he knew he didn't look any different on the outside. But inside...inside he was struggling to stay sane. It felt like there were two different people inside of him, trying to take control of his mind, his thoughts, his emotions. Life seemed to be going by in slow motion as he turned his head in the direction of the most prevalent pull upon him. What he saw left a bitter taste in his mouth, but he stared on in morbid fascination.

***

Spike was leading Kiara onto the dance floor which, strangely enough, had been emptied. The couple was so striking that people had stopped what they were doing in order to watch. Spike wrapped one arm around her waist possessively and pulled her close to his body. Angel noticed that she raised her hands to his chest in order to push him away, but then seemingly thought better of it. As the first steamy beats of music were heard, he watched as her sleek bare legs, *Too bare* he thought, entwined with Spike's, her skin brushing against the glossy black leather of his pants. She rested her forehead on his shoulder and let her hips rock back and forth with his.

It's only when I lose myself in someone else

That I find myself, I find myself

It's only when I lose myself in someone else

That I find myself, I find myself

Something beautiful is happening inside for me

Something sensual, it's full of fire and mystery

I feel hypnotized, I feel paralized

I have found heaven

There's a thousand reasons

Why I shouldn't spend my time with you

For every reason not to be here I can think of two

Keep me hanging on

Feeling nothing's wrong

Inside your heaven

Kiara raised her arms over her head as she swayed to the music, but Spike gripped her hips possessively close to him. Angel wanted to rip his head off. They gyrated slowly in sync, their bodies molding perfectly together in the sensuous dance. As Angel watched, another picture began to superimpose itself upon reality.

Angelus was lying awake in bed. Kiara slept half on top of him, her arm and leg strewn carelessly over his body, her head using his chest as a pillow. He looked down at her and smoothed back her hair. As he did so he noticed the light indication of two small puncture wounds on her neck. He ran his finger over the marks and felt a slight tingling. He knew he had two similar marks on his own neck. They would be gone in a matter of moments. She was so serene when she was sleeping. His undead heart filled with an emotion he could not identify. It ripped at him uncontrollably and made him sick. Yet he could not help himself from trailing the back of his hand over her soft cheek. Without a thought he whispered brokenly, "My Angel."

The vision passed and he saw Spike rub his hand down Kiara's back and over her firm ass, to the back of her thigh. He lifted her toned leg over his hip, following it with a particularly carnal roll of his pelvis. Her eyes flew open in shock and Spike grinned down at her lecherously. Angel heard the female titters and the male moans of admiration surround him.

It's only when I lose myself in someone else

That I find myself, I find myself

It's only when I lose myself in someone else

That I find myself, I find myself

I can feel the emptiness inside me fade and disappear

There's a feeling of contentment now that you are here

I feel satisfied, I belong inside

Your velvet heaven

The room faded away and he was back in her bed. The way she made him feel infuriated him. He lov...no! He was merely obsessed with her. He now realized she was just a distraction. She'd taken up too much of his time. *Yes. It's time to move on. I don't need her. Never did.*

He carefully extracted himself from her grasp. He walked to her armoire and opened the door, flinching as it squeaked. For once he was happy that she was such a sound sleeper. He knelt down in front of the large wooden closet and rummaged around a bit in the box of his things at the bottom. He smiled grimly when he found what he wanted and quietly closed the heavy doors.

He moved to her window and carefully opened the curtains. He could tell that it would be dawn soon. Without any hesitation he lifted her small form in his arms and strode out of the room. He carried her down the large main staircase of her palatial home and out onto the second story balcony terrace. It was a large area, about fifty feet by sixty feet. His footsteps rang out over the smooth marble tiles and Kiara moaned in her sleep. Taking heed, he gently set her down in the far right corner of the terrace, letting her lean against the railings.

He stepped back and surveyed his surroundings. The fading moonlight played over the lake's mirror-like surface. As he moved, the slight clinking around his neck brought him out of his reverie. He reached up and removed the heavy weight of the chains from his shoulders. He leaned down and closed one shackle around her delicate wrist, then carefully threaded the chains through the railings, using up the slack so that it was a tight fit to close the other shackle around her free hand. In fact, just as he was snapping it shut, her eyelids fluttered open and she looked up at him.

Though Kiara had been deeply asleep only a moment ago, it took her less than a second to grasp what he meant to do to her. Even with that knowledge she felt the overwhelming compulsion to struggle against her bindings, but to no avail. He'd trapped her good.

Her silver eyes glistened with knowledge and betrayal as she stared up at him. Under the heat of her gaze, Angelus was forced to turn away. He wanted nothing more than to set her free and fall to his knees to beg her forgiveness. Well, almost nothing more. Mostly, he wanted to stop feeling so damned weak and foppish. He wasn't the miserable little wretch he'd been acting like recently. No, he was Angelus. To be feared, hated, reviled, and worshipped. Not to be whipped by some scrawny waste of a good vampire.

He once again gazed out over the peaceful lake, nestled in the lush green hills and deeply wooded forest. Hopefully her last sight would be worthwhile. He didn't want to look back down at her, to see the acceptance of his treachery, the unconditional love she had for him.

He wanted to see contempt and hate.

Angel stumbled backwards into the shadows. He couldn't stop the memories from invading his mind. He couldn't tell where one time started and the other stopped.

Did I need to sell my soul for pleasure like this

Did I have to lose control to treasure your kiss

Did I need to place my heart in the palm of your hand

Before I could even start to understand

It's only when I lose myself in someone else

That I find myself, I find myself

It's only when I lose myself in someone else

That I find myself, I find myself

Kiara curled her hands in the collar of Spike's red silk shirt and pulled him closer to her, her lips hovering seductively beneath his.

Angelus flinched as he heard her soft voice. "You'd better go now. It will be sunrise in a few minutes."

Angel pushed through the crowd in his haste to get away. The loud din of thoughts raged in his head.

He turned slowly and looked down at her. She was soft and pliant, her legs curled under her like a little girl's. There were no clothes on her petite body to hide her from the sun's harsh glare.

He shook his head in disbelief. Even now she was concerned with his well-being.

With a throaty laugh, Kiara once again lifted her arms over her head, her body swaying gracefully to the sexual beat.

He ran from her. Ran from her love. Ran from her smiles, her laughter, her tears. He had no choice.

To stay would be to lose himself in her.

Spike couldn't contain his own amused laugh as he lowered her in a dip, her leg still locked around him. She arched her back as she undulated against him, her fingers scraping the floor. Spike looked down at her beautiful body and lost himself.

Angel clawed his way out of the side door, gasping for breath in the cool night air. His head was throbbing. As he threw one last glance over his shoulder, he saw Spike lift Kiara in his arms and twirl her around laughingly. It was the last straw.

Angelus roared to life within him as the cacophony inside of him culminated into an explosion of white light inside of his brain. Angel screamed in pain and slumped to the ground.

When he opened his eyes all he could see was darkness. He stood waveringly and propped himself up against the dull brick wall. He ran his hands through his hair and exhaled. As he controlled himself he looked down and straightened his clothes disgustedly. With a determined air he walked back into the club.

*It's so good to be back* Angelus thought.

Kiara knew the moment the fury had freed Angelus of his constraints. The link between them had not been diminished at all on her part. It hurt her to drive Angel to such lengths and pain, but it was the way things had to be. She quietly rested her head on Spike's shoulder as a slow, temperate song began. *Time to implement Phase Two* she thought.

Angelus disregarded the shocked looks from the patrons his *better* half had crashed through so foolishly only moments earlier. He stretched, honing in on the center of his desires instantly. Through the crowd he saw her leaning against Spike. She hadn't changed, though she wouldn't have, would she? Her beauty was still a beacon to him, as was every primal instinct in him that she so skillfully played. With a low snarl he reigned in his desire to shred Spike at her feet. He made sure he looked like a presentable "Angel" and made his way to the couple still entwined on the dance floor. As Angelus placed his hand on Spike's shoulder, he squelched the urge to crush the bone beneath his hands.

"I was wondering if you and Xander and I could have a talk after we leave tonight," he said, his voice low and even. He made sure not to look at Kiara, certain that she'd know the difference immediately. He almost smiled as he thought of her. He'd thought her weak, and yet here she was dancing with his most rebellious Childe. It made him want to laugh. He wasn't sorry for torturing her, not really. The fact that she survived, however, proved that she was a perfect mate for him. They would do well together. They would reign together.

Spike looked up at him sardonically. "Awww, peaches, I didn't know you cared," he drawled.

Angelus fought yet another urge to plant his fist through the cocky vampire's face. He smirked good-naturedly. "I was just hoping we could talk. I mean, we all seem to be having women troubles. I thought it could be a good bonding experience." Angelus wanted to get Spike back on his side. Xander was just the tortured glue that would bind them together again. But when he saw Spike's incredulous look, he amended his statement. "Look, we're both on the same team here. I hear you're an official member of the Scooby Gang." He smiled very "Angelic-ally". "I figure we might as well try to get along for as long as we can."

Spike regarded him momentarily, then nodded. "Yeah, *mate*. I'll go get the Boy Wonder. We may as well drown in our cumulative miseries."

As Spike walked off, Angelus hazarded a glance at Kiara. She was watching him, her silver eyes like pools of moonlight. He remembered the last look he'd seen in them, as Angelus, and a jolt of pain ran through him. He disregarded it. "Take Buffy home, won't you? Make sure she gets in safe," he tried to sound concerned. In truth, all he was concerned with was feeling this woman's arms around him once again.

Kiara watched him with a hint of amusement. He was trying so hard to deceive her. She almost laughed aloud as she read his every thought. She knew he wanted her. Yet at the same time she could detect his obsession with Buffy and the gang. He hoped to use Xander as bait. Kiara bit back a smile. She knew Spike, in all his soul-less-ness, would not allow Angelus to hurt the kids. Somewhere along the line, Spike had come to enjoy them too much.

The irony of it all was too much for her. She smiled. "I will. I'd never let harm come to the woman you love."

Angelus' eyes flashed darkly. *I'd never let harm come to the woman you love.* It was true. She wouldn't. She hadn't. She was here, afterall, wasn't she? Quickly he snapped his mind back to the conversation, ignoring the consequential confession of his "heart". "Thank you," he murmured. "I'll be home later. Don't wait up," he quipped and turned to walk to the spot where Xander and Spike were conversing bemusedly.

Kiara wrapped her arms around herself and looked out through the sea of faces for Buffy. She spotted her a ways off, dancing slowly with that boyfriend of hers. She could tell her heart wasn't in it. She gauged the two of them, and knew that there would be no hard feelings when they broke up. Buffy belonged with Angel. It was so glaringly obvious that it almost made Kiara sick. Almost as obvious as that new "boy" toy. But she knew what she had to do. Well, she didn't really know. Whistler had only told her part of the plan or prophecy or whatever in the Hell it was. She really hoped she found out the next step before Angelus got into too much trouble.

It was an hour later when the gang split up to leave. Cordelia, Willow, Oz and Aidan went back to Cordy's place while Buffy and Kiara walked to Angel's apartment. The silence between them was filled with tension, and Kiara was glad she would have to retire as soon as they made it home.

***

The three men had been drinking for almost three hours. The bartender had tried an hour earlier to limit them, but one look at Spike's demonic features had made him think twice. They now had free reign over the establishment.

"I schwear, the whole lots of them are jush no good...no good....temptreshess," Xander said vehemenently.

Spike nodded glumly into his third bottle of tequila. He'd started on shots, but halfway through the first bottle he'd come to his senses. "Yeah, mate. Tha' Cordy is somethin' else. All cold and hard on the outside. But I bet she's all warm an' wet on the inside, eh?" he sniggered.

Xander flung his arm out angrily, catching Spike on the cheek. "Don' you talk abou' my Cordy like that you....you....daylight impaired freak. Cordy....Cordy....Cordy...." he mumbled into his beer.

Spike wrapped his arm around Xander's shoulders and rested his head on him. "I'm sorry, ducks," he murmured sadly. "Cor, but my lass' a goddess. Ne'er seen such beauty...and the way she lights up the room... I tell ya, I'd rather dance with her than fight with the Slayer."

"I think I'm gonna hurl...."

Angelus watched the two drunks, not contemplating the fact that he, too, was sotted. "You two are pathetic."

Spike opened one eye and glared at him. "Oh and you're not, you great poof? All soul havin' and lovey eyed at the Slayer. Oh sure, she's a hot little number, if you're interested in the dominatin' type. And her, galavantin' around with that little rich boy, flauntin' her wares in yer face. No, Angel ole boy, don't tell me you're not just as pathetic as the lot o' us."

Angelus glared right back at him.

"S'all *their* faults. Didn't haff ta be so beautiful. No. And Willow for Christ's sakes! When did she get so...so...*fetching*? And Cordelia....always beyond my reach. How'd I get her in the firsss place? I don't remember. And Buffy...oh Buffy....." Xander moaned.

Angelus reached across the table and pulled Xander over the dirty, wooden surface. "Don't you talk about Buffy like that! Like she's some object for your elusive wet dreams!" He thrust the boy away from him and went back to his brooding.

"Woo hoo....looks like our boy is a bit touchy about his Slayer. Mate, lemme give ya some advice. I wouldn't ever fall for a Slayer. They're just gourmet cuisine. The only real opponents we 'ave."

"I'll decide who suits my tastes, Blondie."

"And who would, but the All Mighty Buffster?" Xander asked. "Nah. She's shpeshul. Not another one like her. S'why I love her. An' I love Cordy 'cause she's really not sho bad down deep," he blushed when Spike snickered. "An' Will 'cause she alwaysh knows me best."

Spike shook his head. "You really do got it bad, Boy. Good thing you didn't dance with my girl."

"She's not *your* girl!," Angelus hollered.

"How would you know, Pansy? You can't even keep your own woman, don't start analyzin' mine!"

"What about Dru?" Angelus asked smoothly.

Spike's head dropped to the table and his shoulders began shaking. "Dru....Dru," he wailed. "My Princess. My Black Goddess. Why hast thou forsaken me????" he cried.

Angelus looked at him disgustedly. "Didn't think you were the maudlin type, Spike."

Spike's gaze shot daggers at him. "Oh shut up you bloody wanker. What do you know of love? You think you can use your morals to let Buffy be. But ye can't. And you should realize it. It's ne'er gonna go 'way. She'll be in you till you die and you'll ne'er escape the fire she burns inside o' ya." He took another swig of tequila. "If ya knew anythin' 'bout love, you'd know that. You'd know you'll ne'er get 'er outta yer blood."

Spike and Xander leaned against each other, crying in their misery. Angelus sat quietly, toying with his empty bottle of vodka. *....you'll never get her out of your blood.....* he thought. *Kiara.* He exhaled the unnecessary air loudly and stood up. There were other things he needed to accomplish tonight, other than gallivanting with these two idiots. He grabbed two unopened bottles of tequila and smashed them against his company's heads. Xander passed out immediately, but Spike was only stunned. However, he was so drunk that he was unable to resist when Angelus hauled him up and dragged him out of the bar.

* * *

Willow and Oz walked arm in arm down the street. The moon was high and there was a cool breeze blowing about. Willow smiled contentedly as she rested her head on Oz's shoulder.

"Cold?" he asked.

"Nope. Just happy."

"Me too. I love being with you."

Willow's smile grew as that little giddy feeling expanded in her heart - like it always did when Oz complimented her. "What did I ever do to be lucky enough to find you?"

"You didn't have to do anything," he said. "You are perfect just the way you are. I saw you and I just *wanted* to know you."

"Well now you know me. And I know you. And...we know each other. It's kinda like that song-"

Oz turned and silenced her with a kiss. She melted into him and wrapped her arms around his neck. "You were saying?" he asked quietly.

"I have no idea," she smiled brightly.

Oz nodded seriously. "Mmmm. Well, you'll always be my 'Black Magic Woman'."

Willow giggled, then tensed. "Did you hear that?" She drew away from him and listened.

Oz perked up, his heightened senses trying to find what made Willow so nervous. Suddenly he heard a soft mewling.

Willow spun around. "There! Hear it? It...it's like a...a kitten. It sounds hurt." A small frown marred her smooth brow and Oz's heart warmed in view of her compassion. He watched as she walked towards a small alley on the side of the building they were standing in front of.

"You go look that way," she pointed to the other side of the building.

"Just be careful," he called to her as he walked in the opposite direction.

Willow walked around the dumpster, moving boxes out of her way slowly with the toe of her shoe. If the poor thing was in one of them, she didn't want to hurt it more. "Here Kitty, Kitty," she called out. She smiled as the mewling sound got louder. Light from the street lamp let her see the small, shivering bundle beneath a sheet of newspaper. "Oh there you are," she cooed.

A shadow passed over her and blocked out the light. "Oz, I found it," she said turning. Her eyes widened slightly. "Oh," she laughed slightly. "I thought you were Oz. We heard a hurt kitten so we came to investigate." She turned back to the cat and picked it up. It was so small and malnourished that it fit in one palm.

When she turned back around, he was right in front of her. "Oh, ummm," she stuttered nervously. "Are..are, you ummm, are you looking for...for Buffy? I..I think she'd...she'd be back at the...the apartment by now."

His tall form loomed in front of her and he growled softly. Willow barely had time to squeak before his hand gripped her neck tightly and flung her back toward the brick wall. As she hit the building, her head cracked against the hard stone and she slumped unconsciously to the ground, landing in a pile of refuse. He picked up the small wounded kitten in his large hand and smiled grimly. Taking its head between his thumb and index finger, he broke it's small neck. Then he dropped it next to her on the wet, sticky ground.

Oz was fed up with looking for the kitten. He knew Willow would be discontent if they didn't find the poor thing, but he hadn't heard anything else in the past few minutes. As he turned to meet her on the other side, he heard a small crash. Without thinking, he ran to the other side of the building. Willow was nowhere to be seen. However, he saw a tall man turn and run in the opposite direction, the hem of his black trench flying out behind him. Sensing something was wrong, he began to run after him, but stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the strange looking bundle heaped on the ground next to the dumpster. A small, strangled sound formed in his throat. He knelt down on the cold, slimy surface and reached out with a trembling hand. He brushed back the limp red strands and saw Willow's face, pale and emotionless. As he drew his hand away he saw that his fingers were covered with blood. Oz was torn between running after the man who had so obviously done this to her and carrying her to the nearest hospital. He looked down at his love and was unaware of the tears coursing down his cheeks. He lifted his head and howled deeply, full of his pain. He gathered Willow in his arms and ran towards Cordy's apartment and his van. He could smell her blood as it seeped from her wound.

He wanted to rip the guy's throat out. And when he found him, he would. Oz had a pretty good idea of who it had been.

***

"Hello doll."

Kiara opened her eyes and smiled. "Hey stranger. Long time no see." She noticed that she was no longer in Angel's bedroom, but was in a white room with no widows or doors. There was only one chair in the room and at the moment she was straddling the back of it. She propped her elbows up on the corners of the chair back and rested her chin in her upturned palms. "Don't you have any more imagination? I mean, pristine white and..." her voice trailed off as she noticed the long, *flowing* white dress she had on. "Oh man, this just keeps getting better..."

"You know it's not me that puts you in these, excuse the pun, godforsaken rooms. It's *your* dream, therefore it's *your* imagination."

"Uh huh...and I think I'd rather be doing this in Cancun with a nice tanned cabana boy and a Corona with lime."

"Maybe if you really believed that we'd be partying right now instead of basking in the truly *heavenly* aura that you seem to berate yourself with constantly."

"Shut up, Whistly."

Whistler growled. "I thought I told you never to call me that again."

She grinned. "I thought I told you I wasn't your doll."

He moaned. "Why is it that you always end up being the annoying one in these dreams? I mean, at least Buffy was honestly ready to have a go at me in order to make me leave her alone."

"I don't get many visitors. Besides, you're way overdue. I don't like me having to take orders from you. I much rather you serving under me."

"Oh believe me, I'd much rather be serving *under* you also."

"You're so bad," she laughed. "Anyway, what's the story? I was told you'd know. Though I don't know why the big news didn't come straight to me like it usually does."

"Getting all high and mighty on me, are you? Fine, I don't have to tell you, you know."

"Actually, you do."

"Yeah, I know. I was just hoping you'd give in and be nice for once." Whistler smiled at her. They'd worked together so often, she was much like a little sister to him.

"Awww. Don't make me cry. So tell me. What's this big thing I have to do in order to get Angel his soul back? For good."

Whistler grimaced. He liked Angel, he really did. He even liked Buffy. But Kiara was dear to him. He knew he shouldn't have gotten attached to her, but she was an undeniable force of nature. You couldn't help but love her. "You don't really have to do much, but be sure that this is what you want - more than anything."

Kiara's silver eyes softened as she looked up at her close friend. She'd known him for centuries now. She'd been the one to direct him to Angel. It had hurt her so much to see him suffering. And she knew it was for the greater good that Angel work for their side. "It is," she whispered. "More than anything I just want him to be happy. I want things to be as they should."

Whistler nodded softly. "Then they shall."

Kiara watched him questioningly. "But..?"

"Blood." he told her.

A flood of emotions overcame her, but she remained calm. "And if he refuses?"

Whistler could feel the sadness grip him as he looked down at the little beauty and sighed. She'd done more for their side than any demon he'd ever known. And rightly so, for she was demon no longer. He didn't know how Angelus had never been able to tell. "Then your time is up, and you will be called to your rightful place regardless."

Kiara nodded.

She woke up slowly and opened her eyes not to the blinding white of her dream, but to the dark shadows of Angel's bedroom. She could hear Buffy breathing softly in the next room. It was obvious Angel...Angelus...hadn't returned yet, or Buffy wouldn't be sleeping so peacefully on his makeshift bed.

Kiara stood up and moved silently to her bags across the room. She slid on a pair of black leather pants and a cropped, ribbed black long-sleeved shirt. As she put her boots on she thought about the girl in the next room. Kiara didn't want her to hurt, but it was going to be unavoidable. She knew the pain Buffy would go through at seeing Angelus again. But Kiara hoped it would be a dull memory when faced with the prospect of having Angel back for the rest of time. Or at least, for as long as Buffy herself was around. Sighing softly she pulled her dark hair back into a ponytail and slipped out into the fading shadows.

* * *

Spike was coming around. The blasted pain in his head told him that. Who knew drinking could be so very, very mean to a vamp? The last time he'd gotten so plastered was back in Sunnyhell. Ugh, but he was going to have a time of *unliving* through this hangover.

So it was with much surprise that he realized that he couldn't move his arms. Or his legs. He opened his eyes groggily and was even more stupefied when he saw Xander tied to a chair right across from him. He started to snicker until the fact that he must be tied down also began to sink in. And there was only one person who could have done it. Spike had yet to figure out Angel's reasoning when the object of his thoughts came waltzing through the door. One look at him and Spike knew something was different.

"I see you're awake now. Have a nice nap?" Angelus asked smugly.

"Angel," Spike growled, "If you don't untie me right now, I'll -"

"You'll what?" Angelus cut him off. "You'll spit on me? Oh no, I've got it. You can make googly eyes at me. Yes, that would be quite horrid."

"I was thinking more along the lines of tying you up and spilling your insides as an open invitation to every vampire and dog within a hundred meter radius."

"Somehow I don't think that will be happening. Here's the deal...."

Spike glared at him malevolently, but waited to hear what Angel would say.

"I'll untie you - and let you go - if you don't tell anyone who I've got here," he patted Xander's head, "or under what conditions he's being held."

Spike weighed his options for a split second before agreeing.

Angelus nodded. "Now that we have that settled I was hoping you and I could talk."

"About what?" Spike spat.

"I thought maybe you and I could come to an arrangement. I miss the old days, don't you? Just you and me. We made a pretty good team. Albeit Dru was an asset. But that can be overlooked - for now."

Spike watched Angel warily. "Is this some kind of test? The Slayer put you up to this, didn't she? If I say yes, she'll hop out and stake me."

Angelus shook his head. "Not at all. At this moment that bitch is sleeping peacefully for the last time. She'll never know what hit her," he told Spike, his voice rich and smooth and dark.

Spike narrowed his eyes. "What'd you do? Shag her again?"

Angelus laughed. "No. Let's just say that I had a much more inspiring reason to shove off that hindrance of a soul this time."

Spike shook his head. "So let me see if I've got this right. You want me to believe you're Angelus?"

"In the flesh."

Spike laughed. "And I'm the Queen of England, dearie."

Angelus hissed and ruthlessly buried his fingers in Spike's bleached hair, pulling his head up to his own eye level, disregarding the bondages that held the rest of Spike's body to the chair. "Don't mock me, *dearie*. You wouldn't want to make me angry, now would you?"

Spike could smell the remnants of blood on Angel's breath. His eyes widened as his gaze wandered to the still open door to see the body of an unconscious girl lying in the doorway. Angelus nodded imperceptibly and dropped Spike, ripping through the bindings easily.

"Now pick her up and tie her next to the brat," Angelus ordered him.

Spike grumbled as he moved to the door. He hid his surprise as he began to drag the girl in. As her hair moved he saw that it was Cordelia. And she had two bloody holes in her neck. It seemed to Spike that Angel was taking out the Scooby Gang one by one. He had no doubt that he'd let them live for the time being however. He had the feeling there was a greater plan at stake. One that undoubtedly included the ruination of the Slayer. Angelus licked his lips. "Didn't know the boy had such a sweet tooth," he said, smiling down at Cordy. With a shrug he turned to Spike. "Stay here. I have to go take care of something else. I'll be back before dawn," he told him. With a flourish he was out the door, the hem of his black trench billowing out behind him in the cool night breeze.

"How fortunate we are," Spike growled.

***

She was near. He could feel her. The burn started slowly but was ever increasing with small explosions. A sardonic smile graced his cold features as visions of her drifted through his mind. She would, of course, have to be punished for the way she behaved with Spike. She had to know she was his and his only. No one else would ever touch her.

Angelus was so preoccupied with thoughts of Kiara that he never heard the intruder sneak up behind him. It was only once he'd been tackled to the ground that he became aware of Oz. With a snarl he threw the boy off of his back. Oz landed a few feet away, but quickly scrambled to his feet.

"I trusted you, dammit!" he yelled at Angel.

Angelus smiled cruelly at the young boy. He could hear the anguish in Oz's voice, hoarse with unshed tears. As he stood up he ran his fingers through his hair. "My dear boy. What is it that you accuse me of?"

Oz took one look at his remorseless face and jumped at him again. His hands wrapped around Angelus' neck in a vain attempt to drain life that was not there. Angelus laughed and picked him up, hauling him over his shoulder. However, Oz kicked out and tangled their legs together, causing them both to fall backwards in the grass. Oz withdrew a stake from his jacket, but Angelus was too quick. He rolled away from the boy and Oz was only able to plunge the wood deep into Angelus' bicep. With a soft growl Angelus jumped up and smiled down at the boy. Oz snarled and once more launched himself at the vampire. He used all of his wolf's instincts and utilized Angelus' carelessness to land at his jugular, tearing and scratching for all he was worth. Angelus roared and slammed Oz up against the trunk of a tree. Oz shook his head, slightly stunned. He was even more surprised when he was instantly dropped to the ground.

Oz looked up to see a small, dark haired girl deliver a staggering spin kick to Angelus' abdomen, followed by a right hook and a roundhouse. She hooked her right leg behind his left and pulled him down. As she straddled him, she mercilessly pulled the stake from his arm and held it over his heart. He saw her hesitate.

"Don't make me do this, my Angel," she whispered softly.

"Don't make you do what?" he smiled up at her. "I like it when you're on top."

She growled and threw the stake out of anyone's reach. "Don't make me hurt you."

With that she hopped up and walked over to Oz. He noticed that Angel remained lying in the grass, humming softly. He saw red and was just about to make another attempt at killing the vampire when he felt himself lifted off of the ground and pinned against the tree.

"I suggest you just walk away. I don't know what started this, but I'm ending it." Kiara sighed as she saw the boy stare at her. It was worse than looking into the eyes of a demon. Oz's eyes were dead and she could tell he was centered on one thing only. She'd just have to change that. She squinted and concentrated on receiving some clue as to what caused the scene she'd stumbled upon. She loosened her grip as pictures took form in her mind. With a sad look at him she put him down. "Oz?"

His vision was only on Angelus. He was consumed by a hatred so intense that he could not think of anything else. Until she slapped him and his head snapped back. He was almost ready to attack her, until she spoke.

"Go to her. She needs you. You need her. It's where you belong."

Oz's shoulders sagged as he thought about Willow lying in the hospital, deathly pale. "We don't know" they'd told him, "if she'll make it through. There is swelling in her brain and we won't know if there's any terminal damage until it goes down. If it goes down." His eyes filled with tears once more as he recalled the words. He didn't even notice when Kiara drew him into her soft embrace.

Kiara drew back and wiped his tears away. She could feel the heat of Angelus' glare at her back, but she disregarded him as a mother would disregard a sulking child. "Go now. Everything will turn out for the best. I promise you that."

Oz looked at her uncomprehendingly but nodded. He shook his head in a daze and headed off in the direction in which he'd come. Back to the hospital. Back to his Willow.

Kiara rolled her eyes heavenward and prayed for patience before she turned back to Angelus. As she walked she unconsciously swayed her hips, and he was once again hypnotized by her agile grace. She looked down at him in dismay. "Care to tell me what that was about?"

Angelus shrugged with a quick grin. "How should I know? I've always seemed to bring the worst out in that bunch. To tell you the truth," he said conspiratorially, "I think they're rather prejudiced to our kind."

She hurled him up by the lapels of his trench. "I don't know why he attacked you but I think you'd better get yourself home. Daylight's coming fast and I don't think you carry around anything with SPF 1000."

"Better take your own advice, luv," he said, swooping down to plant a hard kiss on her soft lips. "I've missed that," he murmured softly.

Unable to help herself, Kiara leaned into him. "Go," she said warningly, reminding herself to be strong.

He laughed darkly. "I will. But I'll be back when night falls. Don't miss me too much till then." He gave her a mocking salute and strode off.

Kiara wrapped her arms around herself. To the early joggers she merely looked like a young woman warding off the chill of the damp morning. She sighed and buried her hands in the back pockets of her pants. As she walked away she kicked the stake down a random drain. No use risking a little kid finding that.

* * *

Buffy woke up to an empty apartment. She squinted, trying to tell the time on the clock over the mantle. It was after noon. The two vamps should have been in way before. Buffy felt a shiver of fear run up her spine at the thought of Angel being caught in the sunlight, but she fought it down with a deep breath. She knew Angel would have been aware of the time and he was probably just somewhere else, waiting until the sun went down. She knocked the blanket off of her and stood up, straightening her tank top and sweat pants. She padded into the kitchen and open the fridge. *Figures* she thought. *Blood...blood...or blood. What shall I have for breakfast?*

That question was answered as Kiara strolled into the apartment. Her gaze was drawn immediately to where Buffy stood in the kitchen and a guilty flush rose to her cheeks. She covered it and held out the bag with her right hand as she closed the door behind herself.

"I noticed Angel wasn't exactly equipped with supplies, so I got this for you." She set the bag on the table.

Buffy stared at Kiara as if she'd grown two heads. She stumbled over to the table as the other woman walked out of the room nonchalantly - as if nothing was out of the ordinary. *Bagels...cream cheese...doughnuts - ooooh, jelly filled....huh.* Buffy peeped around the wall to Angel's room where Kiara had just gone to rest. *You'd almost think she was human.* Buffy sat down at the kitchen table and unloaded the bag. There were apples, bananas, a loaf of wheat bread, peanut butter, jelly and a carton of milk. Acknowledging the fact that she was the only one who needed it, she opened the milk and drank straight from the carton. With a shrug she dove into the food, feeling suddenly starved. She started with a jelly doughnut while she fixed a bagel. *Mmmm....Could definitely get used to this....*

It was a while before Buffy returned her thoughts to the Land of the Not-So-Living. Something was out of place with that woman. And not just the fact that she was a vampire walking around in pure daylight, either. It was something Buffy couldn't put her finger on. In actuality, besides that fact the she was a "rival" for Angel's attention, Buffy didn't get a bad vibe off of her. She'd been stunned momentarily to see the girl with Spike. Of course, in her opinion it was about time Spike got over that two-faced ho, Dru. He could call it whatever he wanted, but that was definitely one dysfunctional relationship. And Buffy was someone who knew *all* about those.

She picked up her trash and dumped into the trashcan on her way to the courtyard. The sky was a brilliant blue and she once again wondered where Angel was. It was so hard being around him. She couldn't look at him without wanting to touch him, to kiss him, to love him. She could tell he still loved her. She could see the pain in his eyes every time she turned around. But Willow was right. There was no future for the two of them. He was immortal. She was living on borrowed time. He was a vampire. She was a vampire Slayer. His soul was transient. Hers was firmly in place. It'd be smart of her to get to the bottom of this Angelus thing and just go home with Aidan - living as much of a normal life as possible. But was that what she really wanted? She knew the answer in her heart. She loved Angel more than she loved anything else in her crazy life. The problem was, he loved her too much to let him "ruin" her life. Couldn't he see that not being with him was what tore her apart? At least when she was near him she knew that there would always be someone to understand her, guide her, love her. Buffy began pacing around the broken cobblestones, her thoughts warring with each other.

*It's not like he's the only one who'd be taking a risk in having a relationship.*

*But he is the one whose soul is at stake* her voice of reason reminded her.

*What about me? What about my needs? Namely...HIM.*

*What about his need to redeem himself? And what if he loses his soul again?*

*I didn't think it was something that could just be misplaced.*

*Oh you know what I mean* the voice whispered silkily. *Do you really think that if the two of you were together you could keep him from being happy?*

*Do you really think he'll ever be able to be happy knowing what will happen if he is?* her heart shot back.

Her mind laughed. *Exactly. So if you won't bring him happiness, why be with him at all?*

*BECAUSE HE MAKES ME HAPPY!* her heart shouted.

*So all of this is for your selfish gratification?*

*Yes dammit! And because I DO make him happy!*

*Well then we're back at the beginning, aren't we? How can you be with him if he's happy all of the time? That's a big No-No with the whole curse thing.*

*He deserves to be happy -*

*But does HE think he deserves it?* the voice shot back at her. Before her heart could come up with an answer, it continued. *He doesn't think he deserves you, he doesn't think he deserves happiness - nevermind that to him it's all the same. You ARE his happiness. Is it really fair to ask him to risk everything for you?*

*I'd risk everything to be with him* her heart whispered faintly.

Buffy slumped down to the ground as her mind went blank and the thought reverberated in her mind. Was it true? Would she risk everything - everyone - in her life, just to be with Angel? Was she that selfish? Did she not remember how things had turned out before? Did she dare think she could handle it if Angelus were to return?

She looked up, startled, as a shadow came over her. "Wha-what are you doing here?!?!"

Kiara peered down at her, then joined her on the ground. The look in Buffy's eyes was so comical that Kiara had to concentrate on not laughing. "Oh I just thought it looked like a nice day. Not too warm, not too cold. Sun's out. Sky's blue. Really pretty."

"B-but. You're...you're...huh." Buffy sat there, bemused. This wasn't making any sense to her at all. But since her thoughts were too ravaged from Angel, she was willing to take it with a grain of salt and chalk it up to Hellmouth activity. Even though they weren't exactly on the Hellmouth.

Kiara smiled. "I told you you couldn't imagine what I could do."

"That you did. So what else do you do? Can you twist balloons into quirky little animals? I always wanted to be able to do that."

"Ahhh. The mysteries of 'civilized' times. Nope, that's one skill I have yet to conquer."

Buffy nodded. "So I guess this solves Angel's mystery on how you're able to leave before anyone notices."

"Basically."

"Why are you here?"

"I told you that already."

"Because you want Angel's soul to be permanent," Buffy said matter-of-factly. "But why? What do you have to gain from this? Why are you here?"

Kiara laid back amongst the flowers and looked at the teenager. "Let me tell you something, Buffy. The longer you live, the more you realize life isn't about *you*. I should think that you've already gotten a slight taste of that, being the Slayer and all. Let's take you, for instance. You live to save the world. It's your purpose in life - beat up the bad guys. And maybe no one ever knows what good you've done for them. But their lives are in your hands and your life means practically nothing to anyone else. If you die, another Slayer is called. And it seems heartless, but that's what life is about. It's about the selfless acts. But you, Buffy, continue to hold onto the *humane* aspect of what you are. You want to be recognized and thanked and appreciated, and yet - deep down, it's okay to you that you're not. And I know, some nights you go out there because you *have* to, not because you *want* to. But you know what, you're closer than any of them. Closer to the Power. Every other Slayer is focused on doing their duty, on saving the world. They don't care if no one ever knows that these things that go bump in the night exist. They're terminators - machines. They don't do it because they have an empathy for those around them - they do it because they have to. But you care. You care if even one person dies. And to everyone else, it seems a weakness, doesn't it? But it's not. Buffy, it's your strength. Don't let go of your heart, no matter what you do. It's being an emotionless killing machine that makes you weak." She took a deep breath. "Anyway - aside from my ramblings, I was saying that it isn't about *us*. The longer you live, the more you realize that your life means nothing if you don't use it the right way. I can do this, Buffy. I don't gain anything if Angel loses his soul; I don't gain anything if he keeps it forever. But I know that the freedom that a permanent soul would give him is priceless. What I want is for him to be happy. And I know that his soul - and consequently you - are the most important things in his unlife."

Kiara stood up and brushed the back of her pants off. She smiled gently down at Buffy. "You don't like me. You don't trust me. But I do know you, whether you believe it or not. You remind me of myself. The future isn't gonna be easy, Buffy. You may think you know what lies ahead, but believe me, there's always some surprise in store for you. Don't set your life according to the rules - or according to what may seem painfully obvious to everyone else. More often than not, it'll just waste time."

Buffy watched her turn around to walk inside. "But...I still don't understand....you....here...now....sun. Forgive me if I feel like I got jipped a few corners on the 5000 piece jigsaw."

Kiara paused and moved back to Buffy. She looked up at the sky, letting the sun warm her face. "I don't know, Buffy. I think it's inside us all, all the time. We just have to find it and give in." She grinned at the tiny blonde. "That, plus I had a little help from a friend. You know, appearances aren't always what they seem and stuff. It's clichÈ, but truer words may never have been spoken." With a glib wave she strolled back inside.

Buffy sat outside until she noticed that the sun was beginning to set and her stomach was growling. She ran inside to fix a PB and J before taking a shower. She was sure Angel would show at the bar tonight, and she didn't want to miss him. She had major news to tell him and the sooner, the better.

***

The instant that she walked into the dark club, she saw them. It was impossible not to see them, really. They were dancing against the railing of the balcony over the stage. Yes, they were making a rather big spectacle of themselves, dancing to that hard, intense beat. *Gotta love a good Orgy* she thought.

Xander and Cordelia were nowhere to be seen. Neither were Willow or Oz. *Must have decided to stay in.* She noticed Spike, but he was looking particularly disgruntled. *No wonder* Buffy thought. *His dancing partner seems to have been taken.... Bitch.*

Kiara grasped the metal railing in her hands and leaned forward over it. But he would have none of that. One arm snaked around her waist, pulling her back against his chest as their bodies writhed together to the music. His strong thighs were pressed against the back of her own legs, and their bodies felt as if they were molded to each other. She rolled her hips and could feel his erection as his pelvis followed her every move. *This is not good, oh no, this is not good at all* Kiara thought. She leaned her head back against his chest and felt his long fingers trail over the slender arch of her neck. *Nope, nope...oh God it feels so good....*

Buffy watched in anger. How could the woman be so kind and wise one minute and a back-stabbing whore the next? Just as she was about to run upstairs, she felt powerful arms wrap around her in a tight hug. She stiffled a disgruntled groan.

"Hi," Aidan whispered in her ear. "I've missed you. How've you been?"

Buffy swallowed her first reply. "I've missed you too," she murmured. "I've been fine. I...uhhmm...I've just been getting to know Kiara a bit better."

There was a smile in Aidan's voice that Buffy longed to stomp down. "Yeah? Looks like she's 'getting to know' Mr. Angel a bit better."

*Mister?!?!* Buffy thought furiously. *Like he's some cradle robbing....ugh! So he's older...so what?*

"Yeah," she muttered. "Looks like."

Aidan rested his chin on top of her head. "So. You want to dance? It feels like forever since I've had you in my arms." He swayed back and forth with her in his arms, and Buffy was tempted to stake him. Even if he wasn't a vampire. Though her faith in vampires was on its decline. Why hadn't she gotten the memo that they could prance around during the day now?

Buffy led him out to the dance floor, her eyes still glued to the pair upstairs. She closed her eyes and lost herself in the music. *This is too much. I shouldn't have even come here. Nothing's happened. Nothing's going to happen. I just overreacted.* Suddenly Buffy realized the music had ended and she was the only one still dancing. She blushed and went off to get something to drink.

Aidan made his way to where Spike was lounging against the bar. The latter was glaring at the couple that was now descending the stairs. "Hey, *mate*," he said.

"Bugger off, why don't ya?," Spike grumbled.

"Oooh? Testy, are we? Watch out - maybe I'll get my girlfriend to stake you."

Spike glared at the boy. "Feeling brave, are we? Know you couldn't stake me yourself? You're more of a pansy than Sonic over there," he said, nodding to Angel. "It's a shame a gal like the Slayer is wasting her time...if not energy," Spike grinned lewdly, "on someone like you."

Aidan pressed closer to Spike. "I mean it. Watch out. There's going to be a lot of changes going on now that I'm around. And if you think you're indispensable, you're sadly mistaken, my amigo."

"You're right *there*, mate. Things are changing faster than you can blink. If I were you, I'd stay on those twinkle toes of yours."

Buffy watched as Aidan and Spike conversed on the other end of the bar. It gave her a strong feeling of dread, which dissipated when she saw Angel coming her way.

*Sitting duck.* He smiled his beautiful smile, the look in his dark eyes light and alluring. "Hi," he whispered softly as he stopped in front of her.

Buffy had to catch her breath. He stood before her dressed to kill. He'd disregarded his usual gloomy colors and was wearing a vibrant crimson velour shirt, unbuttoned at the top to show his hard, lean chest. As her gaze traveled downwards, she felt a shiver of desire snake through her at the sight of his form fitting black leather pants. Something tickled the back of her mind, but she blew it off, content to bask in his sexual prowess. "Hi," she replied breathlessly. "I was worried about you when you didn't show up at your apartment."

His smile widened. "I'm sorry," he said with no real remorse. "I had some business to take care of and had to take shelter elsewhere during the day. You're okay? You didn't have any problems with Kiara, did you?" *If you touched one hair on her head....*

She smiled up at him. "No. We got along great actually. She brought me food. And I think I discovered how she - "

He cut her off by placing a finger over her lips. "Let's just dance. Everything just slips away when you're in my arms."

She nodded and was vaguely aware that she was barely in control of her own body and mind. She felt...hypnotized. Her movements were routine as she stepped into his arms. It was perfect. And every time they did this, Buffy realized just how much they belonged together. Fight it as they may, they were drawn together. She wondered if he realized the same things.

Angelus' arms wound tightly around her. He squeezed her and grinned over her head, feeling her ribs give under the pressure. Slowly, he loosened his grasp and rested his chin on her head. She would be so easy to break. But that's not what he wanted. No, he wanted her to suffer. He wanted her to watch her loved ones agonize and die. Angelus wanted her to live. His ears perked up at the music, the slow beat winding into the rhythm of her heart. He could smell the excitement in her blood. She would never know what hit her. It almost made him laugh out loud.

I didn't hear you leave

I wonder how am I still here

And I don't wanna move a thing

It might change my memory

Oh I am what I am

I'll do what I want

But I can't hide

Buffy tensed his arms. That sensation was traveling along her nerves. It made her uneasy. Something was different. Something was wrong. In the way he held her. In the way he moved against her. Angel seemed so...cold. He was blatantly claiming her in front of Aidan, and yet there was no joy or warmth in his actions. *Don't be a ninny* she chided herself. *You're just paranoid that Aidan will find out about the two of you.* She smiled against the soft red and snuggled closer to her love. No, nothing was going to take him away from her this time.

And I won't go

I won't sleep

I can't breathe

Until you're resting here with me

And I won't leave

And I can't hide

I cannot be

Until you're resting here with me

"I've made up my mind," she whispered against him.

Angelus quirked a brow with curiosity as he watched the room from over her head. Since he'd come back to his senses, he didn't want to lose contact with *her* for one second. It was with a low snarl that he saw her huddling close to Spike. His hands gripped Buffy in a reaction to Kiara, causing the former to flinch. He was unmindful of her though as he tried to listen to what was being said between the two. However, the music was too loud and he could only see that Spike wasn't too happy. *Serves him right.* Angelus wanted nothing more than to stride over there and rip his spine out through his skull.

His dream was shattered as Buffy spoke to him. "Angel? Angel, what's wrong?" The way he was holding her was frightening. She was afraid that something was terribly wrong. She couldn't read him like usual.

I don't wanna call my friends

They might wake me from this dream....

Angelus' grin was feral and chilling as he stepped back in her embrace, his dark gaze penetrating the innocence that was left in the Slayer. He shrugged lightly and pulled her to him. As he wrapped his arms around her once more, he placed a soft kiss on her temple.

"Nothing, lover," he whispered.

...I won't go

I can't sleep

I can't breathe.....

Buffy froze the minute his softly uttered words touched her ears. Every impulse she had was to run, but she stood still. Her mind raced.

*It could be a coincidence.*

*He could have changed.*

*He couldn't have changed.*

*The prophecy....*

*His soul....*

*The prophecy....*

Buffy swallowed her fear and leaned back, her green eyes warily searching the inky depths of his gaze. There was no light, no hope. No Angel. She bit back a scream and moved back, resting her head on his bicep. *How am I going to get out of this alive?* her mind whispered. *You won't* it answered back smoothly. *How could you forget the prophecy?*

...And I won't leave

And I can't hide

I cannot be....

Angelus could hear the fear and panic rushing through her blood. It thrilled him to the core. He could barely wait to listen to the symphony of terror that would run through her veins as she watched her friends tortured and desecrated.

"Mind if I cut in?" Aidan said, a lopsided grin brightening his handsome features.

Buffy had never been so happy to see him. "No!" she gasped loudly, letting her arms drop from around Angelus' neck. "Actually, would you mind if we got a breath of fresh air?"

Aidan smiled. He didn't know what had gone on between the two, but he was glad Buffy seemed to be back to herself. "Not at all, love. Come on." He placed his hand on her back as they turned to walk out of the bar. "Catch you later, Angel," he shot over his shoulder.

*Impudent fool* Angelus thought darkly. *He'll be the first to die.*

"You certainly seemed to be getting chummy with Soul Man over there," Spike shot at her grumpily.

Kiara regarded him calmly. She liked Spike. She really did. Not that she knew why. Her heart and soul belonged to Angelus. *But* she thought, *if things had been different....* She was scared to complete the thought. She smiled up at him. "Why William, are you jealous?"

He growled. "Not bloody likely."

She nodded. "Good," she said. "I mean, we were lovers, afterall. Why shouldn't I be...'chummy'...with him?"

Spike's grasp on the bottle of Cuervo tightened and the glass shattered to pieces in his hand. "Bloody fucking hell," he cursed lowly. He opened his fist and saw that three large chunks of the bottle were stuck in his hand.

"Ooooh," Kiara murmured unsympathetically. "That's gotta sting."

She almost giggled when he looked ready to send her flying over the bar counter. He bent over and plucked the glass from his hand, letting the shards drop to the floor.

"Come now, any passing person could cut themselves on that. You should clean up after yourself," she admonished. Spike's glare was hot enough to burn her. She couldn't resist one last barb. "You know what they say...." He looked at her with a mixture of contempt, hatred and...amusement. "Cleanliness is close to godliness," she quipped.

With a groan, Spike stalked off, content to nurse his wounds in yet another bottle of liquor.

As Kiara turned, she realized with a start that Angelus was nowhere around. Neither were Buffy or Aidan. She tried to search the bar, but she knew inside that they were long gone. She couldn't feel him anywhere near.

*Dammit! Look what you've done. While you're here flirting with William the Bloody, you've let Angelus get away with Buffy. Real good, Slugger! What now? Do you want to wait around 'till he kills them all?* With a quiet snarl, Kiara pushed away from the bar and strode towards the exit. She didn't even look as she grabbed the back of Spike's leather duster and dragged him out behind her. Once they were out in the open night, she threw him against the wall.

"Okay. Where are they? I want to know, and I want to know now!"

***

Spike and Kiara crept along the outside of the old abandoned warehouse.

"You're sure-"

"Yes!" Spike whispered loudly, for the umpteenth time. "Now would you quit your yapping? If he's here now, he'll be long gone once he hears you."

Kiara didn't fight him. She knew he didn't know of their link. She couldn't feel Angelus' presence, but if Spike said this was the place, it was worth a shot. Besides, the kids might still be here.

He'd filled her in on the way to the warehouse. Kiara could kick herself by not thinking of it sooner. She should have known that he would go after all of them. He'd asked her how Angel had "lost his bloody soul" again, but Kiara couldn't answer. She didn't rightly know *how*. Perhaps it was just through a greater power.

Spike held her back, placing himself in front of her in a subconscious act of protection. She almost smiled until she thought of what they might find inside.

However, the place was deserted when they walked in.

"Dammit!" Spike cursed, his voice bouncing through the empty room.

"Well...I guess there's only one other logical place they'd be," Kiara said.

"His apartment?"

She nodded.

"Why would he choose such a fool place - nevermind. Angelus never was one great on details."

Kiara smirked. "Oh I don't know. He seemed pretty *intent* on *details* when I knew him. I mean-"

"Shut up," he growled, pulling her out of the warehouse. "We don't have time to discuss your sex life." On second thought, he stopped and pushed her against the cold steel door. He pressed his body against hers, relishing the feel of her every curve molding to him. "Besides," he drawled, tracing a fingertip lightly over the pouty curve of her bottom lip and letting it dwell in the sweet indentation above her perfect cupid's bow. "I doubt you have ample references to compare it to, pet." With a wink he pulled back from her and started off down the dark, abandoned street.

Kiara had to take a moment to catch her nonexistent breath. It was hard being so in love with Angelus and having this tiny part inside of her be so attracted to the rebel vampire. She watched furiously as he walked away from her.

"I'm not your PET!" she yelled after him.

Spike paused and half turned back to her. "Fine. *Dumpling*."

"Bastard!" she spat.

"Tsk, tsk, pet," he admonished with a smile.

"Oooooooh!" she shrieked.

Spike shrugged. "Well, until we find the right name for you, *doll*," he watched amusedly as she flushed, "we'll just have to experiment. Ok, *honey*?"

Just as she was about to dust him, a form came running around the corner at break-neck speed. Kiara leaped into action, shielding Spike from the oncoming visitor and settling into a strong defensive stance at the same time. Just when she was about to attack, it stopped.

Spike was shocked when Kiara acted to protect him, but he would have to think about that later. Right now there was a very tired, very rumpled, very out of breath Oz in front of them.

"Oz?" Kiara said. She relaxed and moved forward, guiding him to rest against the building. "What is it? What's happened?"

"Willow," he panted.

Kiara's eyes got round. *If anything happened to Willow.... I promised Oz....* "What is it, Oz?" she asked slowly. "What happened to Willow?"

The boy's eyes were wild and she could swear she saw his wolf swimming to the surface. "He...he got her. She's...she's gone."

Without any questions, Kiara knew what he meant. "Fine," she said with an air of determination. "We'll just have to go get her then, won't we?"

The trio ran off towards Angel's apartment, each hoping they weren't already too late.

***

Angelus paced around the den of his apartment, his demeanor extremely pleased. As he looked around at all the familiar faces, he felt downright giddy. This had turned out better than he ever could have hoped. He regretted having to leave Kiara and Spike behind, but duty had called.

It was a masterpiece really. And the tears streaming from Buffy's face, the guilt written all over her, had been the piece de resistance. The tiny Slayer was now chained in front of his fireplace, her arms straining against the shackles to no avail. A thin trickle of blood ran down her forearm from her wrist, where the heavy metal was biting into her tender skin. She was suspended about a foot off the ground.

He turned and spotted Cordelia and Xander. They were sitting next to each other on metal folding chairs. However, he was not afraid that they would get loose. Each of their wrists was handcuffed to the metal piping of the chair, and their ankles were chained together. *They should have tried this before breaking up* he though. *Maybe the sex would have been better.* Then again, the thought of Xander actually having sex made him want to laugh.

Her boy toy was tied up and gagged in the corner. Angelus couldn't even stomach looking at him. Oh yes, he'd enjoy gutting that one. Maybe he'd brand him first.

On the sofa lay the unconscious Willow. He had no worry that she would wake up any time soon. In fact, without the hospital equipment, he thought she just might die. It would be interesting to watch her fade away of her own volition.

But these were not his pride and joy. No, that had been a surprise even to him. But there they were, huddling together on the floor in front of Buffy, their feet chained to their wrists so that they could not move much. Her mother and her Watcher. They'd showed up not long after he had revealed his presents to Buffy. In her shock, it had been easy to subdue her. She'd barely resisted. Angelus knew that in the back of her mind, Buffy probably felt as if she deserved anything he did to her.

Which she did.

Angelus sighed with glee. His party was just beginning.

"So, Buff, what do you think of my gifts? A bit much? I wasn't sure. I almost got you this quaint tennis bracelet, but then I thought, 'Angelus, man, that's not what chicks dig this century. She'd want a gift from the heart.' So here you are, lover."

Buffy's voice was ragged as she lifted her gaze to him. "Why are you doing this?"

"Why not?" He stepped close to her. "I hate how you make me feel. Shouldn't you hate how I make you feel?" He leaned in close to her, his fingers trailing up the inside of her thigh. "And you do, don't you? You hate that you can love me, that your body can still respond to me."

Buffy tried to swing her legs out to kick him, but they were restrained by yet another set of chains. "Fuck you!" she spat at him.

Angelus merely grinned. "Oh, you'd like that lover, wouldn't you?"

Buffy flushed. She hated this man. Hated him as much as she loved him. She hated that her family and friends had to sit and listen to his filthy words. Hated it because they were true.

Angelus walked away from her and squatted down next to her mother. As he let a fingertip glide over her cheek, he heard Joyce whimper in fear beneath her gag.

"Don't you touch my mother!"

"But darling. There's something Mommy Dearest hasn't been telling you," he stood up and looked down at his captives. "Isn't there?"

Joyce's eyes widened in acknowledgment and Giles groaned next to her.

"Do you mind if I spill the beans, Joyce? I know you would do it yourself...it's just at the moment...you're all tied up." He grinned at his own joke. He turned to Buffy. "You're gonna be a big sister, lover. Isn't that sweet? Well...." Angelus sighed softly in feigned remorse. "You *would have been* a big sister. You know," his eyes lit up, "maybe it would have been a girl who'd have wanted to grow up to be a Slayer just like her big sister. Wouldn't that have been just precious?"

Buffy's green eyes sparkled with even more tears. She looked towards her mother to see if he was telling the truth. But Joyce Summers wouldn't meet her gaze. Buffy swallowed her tears. "You will not lay a hand on my mother, do you hear me? Or so help me God I will tear you apart with my bare hands." Her voice was calm and deadly as she spoke. She looked to Giles, knowing, hoping, that he was the father. "Giles?" she whispered brokenly.

Rupert Giles looked up at his small Slayer, guilt written in his features.

Buffy nodded. "I'm glad it's you," she said.

Relief flooded through Giles' body until he heard Angelus' growl. Flashbacks to his previous time spent with the demon ran through his mind.

"I'm so sorry to split up the family reunion, but there's business to go about." Angelus stalked over to the corner and wrapped one hand around Aidan's neck, lifting him and dragging him to the center of the room. "Tell me, lover, what should his punishment be for inciting your infidelity?"

"Go...To...Hell," Buffy bit out.

"Been there, done that," Angel grinned. "Oh, I'm sorry, that wasn't *me* was it?" He laughed as pain washed over Buffy's features. He held Aidan away from himself, one hand still grasped around his neck. He could see the boy turning blue from lack of oxygen.

That's how Spike, Oz and Kiara found them seconds later. As they burst through the door, Kiara swept a glance over the room, making sure everyone was as safe as could be. She heard Oz's strangled cry as he saw Willow lying unconscious on the couch, and made no attempt to stop him as he rushed to her side.

Angelus turned from his prey to see who dared interrupt him. When he saw Kiara, he smiled widely. "Ah, love, you were able to make it. And you brought the last simpering idiot for me too, how thoughtful."

Kiara shut the door behind her and shook her head. "No, my Angel, I'm sorry, I haven't," her voice was soft as she talked to him. "Put the boy down. Please."

Angelus looked at her. "I'm sorry," he said tightly. "I can't do that."

"Yes, you can." Her gaze wandered to where Buffy was hanging on the wall, and she winced. Whistler was not going to like this turn of events at all.

"Believe me," Kiara continued. "You don't want to kill him. He's not worth it." She rolled her eyes. "Literally. Leave him."

"Why in the world would I want to do that?"

"'Cause the lady asked you to?" Spike answered.

"Ohhh, I see. The two of you. Together. This is some plan to get me out of the way, is it?" Angelus' eyes narrowed dangerously.

Kiara's gaze pleaded with him as she walked forward slowly, mindful not to make any sharp movements. "No, my Angel. You're the only one for me. You know that. For centuries I've loved no one but you. You're mine, and I'm yours. We can be together forever, but you've got to stop this."

Angelus dropped the boy from his grasp, hearing his leg snap as he hit the floor. As she stepped in front of him, he caressed her cheek with the back of his hand. "Is your love conditional, then?" he asked deceptively soft.

Kiara couldn't keep the tears from her voice. "No. I've loved you through massacres. Despite everything you've done, I love you. Rape, torture, murder. None of that has stopped me from loving you, and nothing ever will. My heart is yours forever."

Hot tears slid down Buffy's face as she watched the morbid scene unfurl. She could at least thank Kiara for distracting him, but for how long?

Angelus drew her to him, his powerful arms wrapping around her in a secure embrace. "I lost you once, I won't lose you again. I thought you were weak, that you made me weak, but I now know you're not." He cupped her face in his hands. "We can be together forever. We can rule over this earth and no one can stop us. Don't you want that for us?" he asked.

Kiara had no choice but to answer truthfully. "No," she whispered. "I want to be with you for eternity, yes. But I cannot allow you to continue this...this torment."

His eyes grew cold, practically blasting her with his gelid countenance. "You can't stop me."

"Maybe not," she said simply. "It's up to you, my Angel. Me or you. You've got to make the choice."

"What kind of choice is that?" he asked coarsely.

As the two carried on their discussion, Spike went around the room unnoticed, releasing Cordy and Xander and Joyce and Giles from their bindings. The couples drew back against the walls, trying as hard as possible to remain inconspicuous.

Kiara gazed sadly at Buffy. She knew that the girl was coping as well as possible, considering the circumstances. But she didn't know how long Buffy would hold up. If she failed...Buffy's life would be on her conscience.

Kiara placed her hand over Angelus' undead heart. "You love me. You tried to kill me, because you loved me. And you hated that. You hated loving me. And yet you couldn't escape it, could you? And now you're ready? You want to accept me? Make me your Queen?" She shook her head. "I can't. You have to make the right decision here, Angelus. You can spend eternity with me. Or you can live forever alone. If you choose me, you get me. But you also give up this body to it's rightful owner. If you choose to let me go, then you will stay, and undoubtedly you'll be re-cursed and things will not have changed much for you. Either way, you lose something. Plain and simple truth."

Angelus quaked with fury. "And you? What do *you* gain, love?"

Kiara shrugged. "If you make the right decision, I spend eternity with the man I love. If you make the wrong decision, I leave anyway. Either way, I'm outta here."

"I won't let you leave me," he threatened darkly.

Kiara smiled for the first time. "It's not something you have control over, my Angel. Believe it or not, there are those with powers greater than your own."

He fought with his emotions. He was not used to caring for anyone, yet he was loathe to let her go. Truth be told, she was the one being he never wanted to hurt again, though he would never admit that to anyone. But if he chose to stay and revel in this madness...then he would lose her, and in all likelihood would have that damn curse back within a week. But was he giving up if he chose her? Would she have defeated him?

"And if I choose you, how do you propose we spend eternity with each other?"

"That's something you'll just have to find out if it comes," she told him.

Angelus looked around the room, not particularly caring that his prisoners had gotten free. His gaze landed on Buffy. He could practically taste her fear and pride. It seemed as if she would win either way. And yet, he knew she would never forget him. The thought made him smile.

Now that he had her back, the hunger burning him from the inside out, he couldn't bear to let her go. So he chose her. "You."

Kiara nodded, relief evident in her posture. "There's just one thing you have to do," she said.

"What?" he asked shortly, wondering if he was going to regret his decision.

"You have to drink me. All of me."

Angelus opened his eyes wide. "You want me to kill you?"

She shrugged. "Can't you do it? You are Angelus...."

He took a hesitant step towards her. He felt so...human dammit! Actually, the thought of killing her didn't sound so bad at that moment. Hadn't he always dreamed of it?

Looking down into her beautiful face, he remembered what the damned sot Angel hadn't.

When he'd fed from her so many years ago, as she had reciprocated, he'd seen that she had no demonic visage. She was as purely beautiful as a vampire as she was in her human guise.

Angelus morphed into his game face and attacked her slender neck, his fangs cutting deeply and raggedly into her flesh. Instantly the warm sticky liquid filled his mouth, arousing his senses. She was liquid fire to him and he felt as if she consumed him. It was a sensation so unfamiliar to him, that it actually frightened Angelus.

The Scooby Gang looked on in gruesome fascination. They couldn't tear their gazes away. They knew they should be running for safety, but not without Buffy - and not without knowing what would happen.

Buffy cried mercilessly. With any luck, Angelus would finally be out of their lives forever. But would Angel? If he ceased to exist without his demon.... Buffy knew she had to be ready to accept that fact. It hurt more than she could imagine, but the lives of her friends and family were worth it.

Kiara was fading fast. Angelus had to wrap his arms around her just to keep her standing. She could feel the blood flow out of her in ebbing waves. Soon she would be hollow, but she felt no regrets. This is what she wanted. She'd done her duty. She could end it in peace and love.

Angelus tasted her resolve, her peace, her undying love, and it seemed to set him free. His sense were still on fire, but as she weakened, instead of getting stronger, he felt as she did. They collapsed to the floor, his mouth never leaving the warm supply of life spilling from her flesh.

With her last ounce of strength, Kiara wrapped her arms around Angelus. She gazed into his obsidian eyes and smiled. "My Angel," she whispered.

As the last drop of her blood flowed down his throat, Angelus fell next to her. Neither body moved. The gang inched forward slowly as Spike released Buffy from her chains. Her legs buckled beneath her weight, yet she fought to stand and walk over to Angel's prone body. She knelt down beside him and picked up his free hand. As she ran her fingers over his claddagh ring, she placed a light kiss on his palm. "I love you," she whispered against his cold skin.

Suddenly, a luminescent blue light began an outward glow from Kiara's body. Moments later, a shimmering red aura of the same nature extended from Angelus' chest. They watched in awe as the iridescent blue rose up and encompassed the red like a cocoon. It swirled and twisted around the red light until it was completely covered. Then, it began to shrink into a dense sphere of twinkling blue. Buffy looked around the room and saw her friends bathed in the dancing reflection of the heavenly light. Without any warning, brilliant beams of white shot out of the sphere, and Buffy saw that many of the small rays went through the gang. She herself could feel the soothing warmth of the light course through her body. It calmed her fears, and somehow, she knew everything would be ok, despite the events of the last few hours. Buffy turned halfway and saw the light hover over Willow. It traveled up and down her comatose body and then, in a blink, the room was bathed once again in darkness.

They stood in silence for a long while.

"Wow. I wouldn't have thought I'd see anything like *that* outside of the Hellmouth," Xander said. "No wonder you're always running to L.A."

The total inaneness of his comment caused everyone to collapse in laughter. Tears ran from relief and happiness as tension and stress was released.

"Ummm....guys. I've got one hell of a headache and I'm feeling a little disoriented." Willow's feeble voice ceased their laughter and they turned one by one to watch her stand up and walk over to them. Oz jumped up and offered his assistance, wrapping his arms around her tightly. It was more for his assurance than it was to help her walk. As she neared the group, Willow looked down, horrified. "I didn't do that, did I?" she asked innocently, peering at the two bodies.

Buffy smiled sadly. "No, Will, you didn't do that."

Willow nodded. "Oh. Good. 'Cause he's movin', and if I had, I'd have wanted to get outta the way."

Buffy turned swiftly back to Kiara and Angel and watched as he began to stir. Tears of happiness sprang to her eyes and she couldn't remember a time she had cried more. He sat up, obviously muddled, and looked around.

"Angel?" Buffy questioned quietly.

He turned towards her voice. "Buffy? Wha-what happened?" Angel shook his head. "Where.... The last thing I remember is...is dancing with you...and then...Spike and Kiara dancing together...." He looked up at the sea of faces around him. "Where is Kiara?"

Spike stared despondently down at the form of the beautiful girl and stalked out of the apartment. No one answered Angel's question. They didn't need to. When he saw her lying next to him, her throat torn open, and began to shake his head in denial.

"No...No," he whispered to himself. He turned to Buffy and saw the blood on her arms. "Buffy. You're hurt. You...." He looked down at himself and then to the disheveled states of his "friends". "It happened, didn't it? I...I...."

Buffy knelt down beside him and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck. "It's okay. It's okay," she told him over and over again. "It's going to be alright."

"It was him!" Willow gave a strangled shriek.

Oz tried to calm her fears. "It's ok. You're ok now. It was Angelus, not Angel," he said, trying to comfort her, though he had a hard time looking at the *friendly* vamp.

"No, no, no, no, no..." she chanted, her eyes wide with fear.

"Willow..." Buffy started.

"NO!" she shouted. Willow took a few deep breaths. "It wasn't Angel," she said in a hushed tone. "It was him." She pointed to Aidan, still lying on the floor, nursing his broken leg.

"What?" he said, confused.

"Will, are you sure-" Buffy tried again.

Oz had no such qualms. He pounced on the disabled man and began beating him. Xander was close behind, not one to be left out when it came to his best friend. The sound of bone crunching against skin filled the room until Buffy stood up and dragged the two boys off of her boyfriend.

She looked coldly down at the bloody mess. "Is it true? Did you attack Willow?"

"Buffy," he began, his speech impaired by a few broken teeth. "Let me explain..."

"Explain?" she erupted. "How the hell do you think you can explain trying to kill Willow?"

"I wasn't trying to kill her. I was just trying to keep her mouth shut."

Oz tried to leap on him again, but Giles and Xander held him back.

Willow looked at him, confusion adding to the terror in her eyes. "What?"

Aidan looked at her in disgust. "You kept telling Buffy she was trusting the wrong people. That she should look for happiness. You think I was willing to lose her?"

Willow shook her head in denial. "No," she whispered.

Aidan scoffed. "No. I had to stop you from putting ideas in her head. Since day one all of you have shoved Angel," he sneered at the name, "in my face. There was no way I was going to let one little girl ruin my chance with Buffy."

"What chance?" Buffy said hostilely.

"Buffy," Aidan whined. "You've got to know I only did it for you."

Buffy turned her back on him. "You're sick," she told him.

Aidan climbed to a standing position, heaving all of his weight onto his one good leg. "Don't walk away from me," he warned Buffy. "I'll never stop. You're mine. I won't let these people stop us from being together. They're the ones brainwashing you. I'm only trying to protect you. You can't escape destiny, Buffy," as he spoke, his voice rose to a shrill pitch. "And I'll kill anyone who gets in our way, if I have to."

"Wrong, *mate*," Spike said as he walked back in. In one giant leap he was upon the startled man, his fangs buried in Aidan's thick neck. He drained him quickly and carelessly and when he was finished, he let the body fall to the floor with a thud. Spike licked his lips as he shifted easily to his human form, and looked around at the gang's stunned faces. "I've been wanting to do that for a long time," he said.

He moved slowly to kneel beside Kiara's lifeless form. His fingers traced over her perfect porcelain features. "Love," he quipped bitterly. "It's a funny thing, y'know?"

In the silence of the night, the group relinquished itself to the love that they shared. Buffy held Angel in her tender grasp, Willow leaned into Oz's strong embrace, Joyce yielded to Giles' welcoming arms, and even Cordy submitted to Xander's friendly hug.

***

Whistler had pulled some strings at a small, local funeral home, and that was where the group sat on the dreary Thursday night. Since Spike and Angel had both wanted to be present, Whistler had convinced his friend in charge to keep the place open for them. Also, not wanting her body to be defiled, he'd been able to bypass both an autopsy and the funeral home's lame attempt to preserve her body. In all truth, when he looked down at her, it seemed as if she were only sleeping. There were no signs to say that life had fled her body. Even the wound Angelus had inflicted upon her neck had healed, which was highly unusual.

After the gang had paid their last respects to the girl who had given up her life to save their own, they meandered out of the room to gather in the atrium. They were quiet, each absorbed in his or her own thoughts.

"I still, ah, don't understand why, err, why she didn't...well, how her body remained...in-intact," Giles said after a long moment.

Whistler looked at him peculiarly. "It's because-"

"Because she had no demon in her," Angel finished quietly.

The group looked astonished. "But she was a - a vampire-" Giles began.

"I remembered something as Angelus," Angel said. "In the years we were together, we- " he paused and glanced down at Buffy. "We...exchanged blood. But it was only after.... Only in situations where my - his - mind was not functioning at total capacity. But she...she never had the demon break through. Even when she fed from me, her face was....clear. There was no monster. I don't understand how she...." Angel shrugged and looked to Whistler.

Whistler cleared his throat. "I guess there's no time like the present." He motioned for everyone to sit down. When they were settled, he began his story.

"Kiara was turned in the year 1579. She was taken on her 21st birthday. She was young by our standards, but an "old maid" back then. In truth it was amazing that she lived even that long. Because Kiara was a Slayer."

Buffy's eyes widened in amazement as did everyone else's.

"Really got a thing for those Slayers, huh Dead Boy?" Xander shot.

Angel glared at him and turned to Spike. "So much for never falling for a Slayer Spike."

Spike shot him a furious glare.

"Can't we all just be quiet and listen?" Willow intervened. She was intrigued.

"Ahh, yes," Giles said in agreement. "But I do have one question. If she was a Slayer, why is there no mention of her in the Watcher's records?"

Whistler nodded as if he expected the question. "There was a time when the Watcher's Council did not consist of humans. It was us. The demons. Well, those of us who weren't bent on destroying the universe, anyway. We thought we would live forever. That the Council would always be ours and that we would always be alive to give our own accounts of what transpired. But things happened and you humans took over the Council. Many Slayers were "lost" in the transition."

Giles was astonished.

Whistler continued. "By the time any mention of Kiara surfaced, she was already a vampire. Rumored to have caused the most destruction ever, as I hear it. Anyway. Since she was a Slayer before she was turned, the demon in her became a killing machine. It fed off of the Slayer in her. The extensive knowledge that was hers before she was turned...it became part of the vampire. And so she was unstoppable. Every move a Slayer could make, Kiara was ten steps ahead. She was brilliant. She could have taken over this world, if it had been her desire." He stopped and sighed. "Kiara had been active for a hundred years when she met Gabriel. The demon in her could not resist him. They fell in love. It was he who gave her her soul back. She, like Angelus, had to choose between an eternity with or without him. But she couldn't kill him. Wouldn't, rather. And so he rose to his rightful place and she lost him. After that, the demon in her devoted itself to all that Gabriel had held dear. For another hundred years she denied herself, her being, and dedicated her unlife to goodness and purity. It was a sight I had never witnessed before her and haven't since then. Kiara truly was the strongest being I've ever come into contact with.

"One day she fell ill. I stayed with her, as I had done for many years before. We were very close. No, we weren't lovers," he said, reading their expressions. "She was like a sister to me. Sometimes even a mother. And the most amazing thing happened. The demon released her from its grasp. I don't know how. She never revealed to me the things she had seen while ill. But she was changed. There was another presence inhabiting her, one with a new purpose. It scared me at first. Until I realized, startlingly enough, that it wasn't demon, but angel, leading Kiara. She had no desire or need to feed off of the blood of the innocent. She moved around in daylight as well as night. She was almost human, except for the new abilities she had. She was able to attract every vampire in a certain area to her. She could hide her presence from them, or if she felt so inclined, she could cause them much pain. And if she did not have a mindlink with, or at least a knowledge of, a vampire and it came within a certain radius of her, there was some aura around her that automatically dusted it. These helped a lot with her slaying, for again she took on the role of a Slayer. Of course, there was always a human Slayer around, but that never stopped Kiara. She enjoyed what she did. And it didn't matter to her that no one knew she existed. In fact, I think she preferred it that way. At least, until she met Angelus.

"He became her obsession. She fell in love with him so deeply, that I feared losing her to the dark once again. But she was content to love him. In her heart she wanted to change him, but he wasn't ready, and she knew it. It all culminated when he tried to kill her. He just didn't know that sunlight had no effect upon her. I found her chained to her terrace and set her free. I wanted to stake him then, but she informed me that he had a greater destiny. I trusted her. She was always right. So she watched him from afar. She watched him sire Spike and torture Dru. And still she loved him. When he was cursed, she hoped it might be her chance to help him lose the demon forever, but Angel only lost himself to despair. She alone protected him from things that would have surely killed him. She became his Guardian Angel. And he never knew of her existence. Kiara never said anything, but I could tell it hurt her. She never stopped loving him. One day she came to me and asked me to talk to him, to lead him to our side. She showed me the Slayer that would be called," he glanced to Buffy, "and told me that she would be his destiny. Unable to deny her, I did as she asked. I think everyone knows what happened after that," he said, looking around the room.

Angel was silent, obviously shaken at the knowledge that this woman he had killed had done so much for him - in the end giving up her own life so that he could have a happier one.

Buffy felt such empathy for this little woman. And such gratitude. She only wished that she could have had the chance to thank her. Thank her for leading Angel to her and protecting him all the way.

Giles coughed. "Well, ahhh, I suppose this is enough talk for tonight. We'll all be here again tomorrow night for her...service."

As Willow walked out with Oz, tears streamed from her eyes. "That's an amazing story. To...to love someone so much that she...she fought off the demon in herself.... And then to give her life up for Angel because she loved him so much." She looked to Oz, a worried frown marring her brow. "Do you think he'll be alright?" She was referring to both Angel, who was walking with Buffy, his shoulders drooping as if the sorrows of the world were upon them, and Spike, who refused to leave the building until Joyce wrapped her arms around him in a motherly hug and led him out.

Oz watched the two vampires grimly. "I don't know," he told the small redhead. "I really don't know."

* * *

She felt like she was floating. There was a bright flash of light and then all sensation ended. She was standing, but there was no floor, no walls, no ceiling. Only empty space. She turned around and what she saw made her stop and catch her breath.

An impish smile played upon her lips as she looked the man over. He seemed impossibly tall. His black hair curled over his broad shoulders and she looked appreciatively over his well muscled, defined form. "It's been a long time, Gabe."

His smile was bright as he watched her. "That it has, dear. We've missed you."

Her own smile dimmed a bit. "I feel so...lost," she confessed.

He drew her petite body against his in a strong bear hug. "You shouldn't feel that way. You're home."

Kiara shook her head. "No..." she said haltingly. "Where is...where is Angelus?"

Gabriel led her to a small pool that appeared out of the nothingness. She saw herself and Angelus sitting in a small glen. There was no darkness and no light. But she could tell that they were happy - together.

"How...?" she questioned him.

The vision cleared and she saw the Scooby Gang standing around a casket. As they parted, she saw herself lying peacefully within.

"Blood binds three and three bind blood," he told her.

She looked up at him. "So why am I here?"

"Because you've earned it. Your demon soul excommunicated itself from you because of its love for me, and in reward resides in a lesser realm. Your angel soul denounced its right here because of its love for Angelus. They will spend forever in Purgatory, for she could not claim this right and he could not return to Hell because of his love for her. And that leaves you, the strength behind those two. Your human soul has earned the right to be here."

Tears shimmered in her bright silver eyes. "I can't...."

Gabriel shook his head, not understanding. "But you belong here. It is your rightful place."

"It's not," she contradicted him. "I'm not finished yet."

Gabriel nodded. "You're wise, Kiara." He laughed slightly, "Though I don't know if I could say 'beyond your years'. Your duties have been discussed at length in the council. And though it is true that you could continue to make a difference on Earth, it is up to you. You have achieved more than we ever thought possible. You have been a great asset to the Power of Good. If you stay, you would have a top position in our coalition. But, if you choose to return, I have faith that one day you will return to us. Your rightful place in our army will forever be waiting for you."

Kiara nodded and looked down into the pool.

Happily he laid a hand on her shoulder, looking into the vision that she saw. He was proud of their creation. She had surpassed his fondest wishes. Softly he asked her, "So, what is it that needs finishing, Kiara?"

"Love," she answered. "*My* love."

She blinked her eyes rapidly, trying to become accustomed to the darkness. She tried to sit up, but realized she was trapped in some sort of....box. She tried to lift what she hoped was the top, but it was so heavy. She was afraid of running out of air until she realized she wasn't breathing. With a grunt, she laid back down and tried to figure out where she was. Her memory was so vague.

Spike....Angel....Blood...Gabriel.... Gabriel? When was the last time she'd seen him? Visions....casket....tears.... Casket?!?! With a renewed sense of urgency, Kiara scraped at the satin lining of the coffin. It tore easily and before she knew it, the wood had splintered under the force of her struggles. Memories of being buried before flitted through her mind. As she tore a hole in the wood, dirt began to cave in on her. But she didn't give up. Kiara dug through the layers of dirt. They hadn't packed it down yet, and so the ground was still soft.

When she pushed her arms through the surface and pulled her head above ground, her first instinct was to gasp for breath. Unfortunately, this just led to her sucking down a mouthful of dirt. She coughed up the vile tasting stuff as she dragged herself out of the grave. On weak legs Kiara stood up and dusted herself off. She raised her hands to her head and felt the dirt clumps sticking to her hair.

"Argg! I *hate* it when this happens!" she grumbled. She looked around. The cemetery was unfamiliar. *Sure. They bury me where no one will remember me.* With a sigh she walked off. She was fairly certain the place was near Angel's apartment. She knew he'd want to visit often. She might as well find the place and take a shower. *If I ever feel this icky again, it'll be too soon.* With a laugh, Kiara smiled. *I sound like Cordelia.* She inhaled the cool night air and sighed. Life was good.

***

"So, married huh? Tied the knot? Got the ole ball-n-chain...." Xander kept on.

"Yes," Buffy sighed. "They're married. It's got an extreme weird factor, but I'm dealing."

They all sat around a table in The Inferno. None of them had felt right coming back so soon after burying Kiara, and yet it seemed like the right thing to do. They could look around and almost see her, her memory was so vivid in their minds. The service had passed in silence the night before. Buffy thought that perhaps Spike wouldn't show, but he had. She'd never seen him so removed and quiet. Buffy wouldn't have thought her death would have affected him so - especially so soon after his break-up with Dru, but obviously he had cared for the woman. Though he sat with them tonight, she couldn't help but feel he was a world away.

Although Willow and Cordelia hadn't known her well, they'd spent the last two hours dredging up memories they had of the girl who had been in their lives so shortly. Even Oz told him how she'd stopped him from getting killed by Angelus. Xander shared his story about how Kiara had wanted to dance with him "so bad", but he'd turned her down. That made Spike and Angel grin. Buffy told them of the talk the two girls had had. Buffy had taken it to heart before, but now...it just seemed that much more important. Only Spike and Angel remained quiet.

So now Xander was trying to make conversation, but it just wasn't working. The couples split up one by one and went to dance or get a drink. Soon Spike was alone.

He ran his fingers through his bleach-blonde hair and sighed. He didn't want to dance. Didn't want to hunt. Didn't even want to drink. All he *did* want was to not ever feel again. He didn't know how she had wormed her way into his mind so deeply. He couldn't get her our of his head. Everywhere he turned, he imagined he saw her. She haunted his every waking moment. And in his dreams...Cor! The things she did in his dreams. Spike shook his head. He had to escape her. He could recall the way she laughed at him and teased him...and oh but the way her body moved when they danced together. She was his goddess. And she was gone.

So it was with no surprise at all that Spike saw her walking toward him. He knew that it was either his imagination running wild yet again or yet another girl who resembled her. He laughed at himself for letting his hopes get the better of him. *Spike, old boy* he thought *They're all right. You are going soft in your old age.*

He did, however, become slightly frightened when the vision continued its path to him. His apparitions had never gotten close enough to see clearly, and yet there she was, her hair black as onyx swirling around her, those silver eyes dancing restlessly as always, those long, tanned legs bringing her ever closer to him. Spike was afraid he was losing his mind. The thought brought a new understanding to him of how it must have been for Dru. He prayed - yes prayed - that he would lose himself as completely in his madness as she had. He didn't want to live with this terror for the rest of his unlife.

And then she was standing in front of him. Would he make a scene? Would he prove to everyone that he was insane? Could anyone else see her? When she leaned forward, he could even hear the way the white satin of her tank dress caressed her skin. He could smell her, hear her, feel her, see her. And Lord how he wanted to taste her. But she wasn't real.

Kiara almost laughed as the disbelief became so apparent on his chiseled features. She had to admit to herself, he looked like crap. It made her sad, but she was also touched that he would care so much. She leaned over to whisper in his ear, the silken strands of her hair brushing against his cold skin.

Her lips were so close to his ear that he could practically feel her words. And Spike jumped when her soft, husky voice filled his brain.

"Dance with me?" she entreated him.

*Bloody Hell* he thought. *Might as well enjoy it while it lasts.* He could not deny her plea. With a sweeping gesture he stood and captured her in a tight embrace, fearful that she would disappear into thin air. But she didn't. She was quite solid...and warm. He guided her to the dance floor and they stood together, listening to the dying strains of music.

Kiara tilted her head up to look into his eyes. She did not know how she had missed his strong, compelling features before. He was arrogant and splendidly handsome. She could feel the danger he emanated and it made her tingle. Her slender arms wrapped around his neck and she pressed her body against his. She could feel his intake of breath and smiled.

You come out at night

That's when the energy comes

And the dark side's light

And the vampires roam

You strut your rasta wear

And your suicide poem

And a cross from a faith that died

Before Jesus came

You're building a mystery...

"You know, I requested this song for you," she told him.

Spike thought he was quite mad to be talking to this spectre. "Oh did you?"

She nodded. "Yep. I saw you sitting there all alone and so sad and thought perhaps I could cheer you up."

"I suppose you've been watching me, pet?"

Kiara growled softly. "I thought I told you not to call me *pet*."

Spike's eyes widened. "So you did, darling, so you did."

She shook her head. "No, I don't like that one either."

"Sugarlips?"

Kiara glared at him.

Spike began to smile as he gave in to the absurdity. "My Ray of Sunshine?"

She stepped on his foot deliberately and ignored his nonsense. "I heard it first when Willow and Buffy were playing around in the courtyard. They'd turned on the radio and it came on.... It reminded me of you."

Spike frowned. This dream was becoming a bit too real.

...Oh you're so beautiful

With an edge and a charm

And you're so careful

When I'm in your arms

'Cause you're working

Building a mystery

Holding on and holding it in

Yeah you're working

Building a mystery

And choosing so carefully....

"Of course, I didn't know at the time that it reminded me of you. I...I don't know. My thoughts and feelings seem so hazy now. But I guess that's to be expected...." she shook her head as she continued.

Spike held her at arms length, his eyes wide and disturbed. "Are you real?" he asked, inspecting her intently.

Kiara laughed. "Of course I am. Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well, 'cause you're bloody well dead," Spike said, exasperated.

Kiara smiled that enticing secret smile of hers. "Not exactly. And I'm not going anywhere for a long, long time."

Oh you're a beautiful

A beautiful fucked up man

You're setting up your

Razor wire shrine

'Cause you're working

Building a mystery

Holding on and holding it in

Yeah you're working

Building a mystery

And choosing so carefully....

You're building a mystery.

Spike pulled her close. "Promise?" he whispered vulnerably.

Kiara hugged him to her. "You won't be able to get rid of me," she told him.

Upstairs, Buffy, Angel, Willow, Oz, Cordy and Xander watched in amazement as Spike danced with a woman who looked startlingly like Kiara.

"Do you think...." Willow started.

"Don't," Buffy said. "I think we've all learned these things are better left unquestioned." She sighed and leaned into Angel's strong embrace. This was where she belonged, and she wasn't going to let anything ruin it. Angel was back and he was going to stay that way, thanks to a certain angel. Buffy smiled at the thought. She rubbed her hands over his, which were clasped around her waist.

"You know Will, we missed our exam," she said aloud.

Willow gasped. "Omigosh! You're right. I totally forgot! What if I.... On no. Do you think I'll get an F? Oh God, I couldn't get an F. I've never gotten an F before in my life! What if...what if he doesn't let us have a make-up? Buffy!" Willow freaked.

Oz kissed her forehead, her bruises and scratches still visible. "Something tells me it'll be ok," he said. "You can always get a note from the ER."

Willow nodded, calming somewhat. "I guess so."

Buffy listened amusedly to Willow's tirade. "I love you," she whispered to Angel.

Angel looked down at the dance floor and felt peace run through him. He glanced at the top of Buffy's head and smiled. "I'll love you beyond forever," he promised her.

***

She sat in the middle of his bed, her arms propping her up from behind. She let her head fall back as she lost herself in her thoughts, the golden strands of her hair tickling her bare arms.

A week had passed since everything had gone down. Only three days since Kiara had returned. Just thinking about the incidents of the past week made Buffy's head spin. She had yet to make and sense of it all. Then again, when you lived on top of a Hellmouth, you learned to take these things in stride.

She was yanked from her reverie as the force of her heavy bags being tossed on the bed caused her to bounce up and down. Her eyes flew open and she realized that her startled gaze was focused on the broad expanse of Angel's bare chest. She swallowed thickly and slowly trailed that gaze up his body. But Buffy was caught off guard when she saw the anger sparking in his own dark eyes. Her heart contracted and began to race as thoughts flew through her mind. Had Angelus somehow returned? Had Kiara's return brought back the demon?

"Angel?" she said cautiously.

Angel looked down at the beautiful, golden woman-child reclining on his bed. He longed to touch her, to feel her smile, to hear her heart sing. But regardless of what had transpired, it was still impossible. He'd made his decision and he was sure it was the right one. Wasn't it? He could so easily read the emotions going through her and felt his resolve weaken. And when she spoke his name, so soft and in need of reassurance, all he wanted to do was hold her and calm her every fear. But he wouldn't.

Angel turned from her and began buttoning the black shirt that was draped over his wide shoulders. "What?" he asked, not daring to look into her large, expressive green eyes.

Buffy watched the lean muscles of his back rippling beneath the black shirt as he jerked the fabric and fought with the buttons. It was obvious to her that his mind was not on the task. She tried to catch her breath and form the words that would bring him to her, but she couldn't. So she knelt upon the bed and laid a hand on his shoulder. He tensed at her soft touch, but turned willingly under her direction. She gently knocked aside his fumbling fingers and proceeded to button his shirt swiftly. "There," she murmured quietly in the deafening silence of the room.

Angel watched her fingers fly over his shirt, could feel their warmth hover over his skin. As he let his guard down, his gaze wandered. He watched appreciatively as the gentle swell of her breasts rose and fell with her breath, until he realized what he was doing. He pulled away from her and focused his eyes on the wall behind her. "I know how to dress myself," he said tightly.

Her sparkling gaze shot up once again in her surprise at his tone. What had she done to make him act this way? "I...I know. I was just...trying to...help," she trailed off as the tension between them began to sing once more.

Angel nodded. *What's going on with you? This is Buffy. This is the woman you love. Ahh, yes. But if I give in now, she'll never leave. And she can't stay....*

"Thanks" he murmured and turned from her once more.

Buffy clenched her fists in frustration. What was going on? Wasn't this the same man who only three days ago had promised to love her forever? Now he was acting as if...as if she was a piece of baggage he couldn't wait to get rid of. There was only one explanation Buffy could think of.

"Is she staying?" she asked.

Angel looked at Buffy over his shoulder. She could tell that her question confused him. "What? Is who staying?" The minute the words slipped out of his mouth, he realized what she was asking. He almost flushed. Did she doubt him so much?

Buffy opened her mouth to explain, but he cut her off. "No," he said shortly, still not facing her. "Didn't you know she's going back to Sunnydale with you and...." a disgusted look ran over his face, though Buffy couldn't see it. "Spike," he spat out.

*Oh yeah. Spike. Well, they did hit it off pretty well. And with Dru out of the picture...I could see them getting cozy* Buffy thought. *She'd do him a world of good. Ha. Spike...good? Who am I trying to kid?* Well, with Kiara out of the picture, Buffy had no idea why Angel was treating her this way. It hurt. She loved him so much, didn't he know that? Couldn't he see how much this was tearing her apart? It had been hard enough losing him the first time...now that he could love her freely...he didn't seem to want her around.

"Angel...what's going on?"

Angel closed his eyes. It tore his heart apart to hear her, his strong Slayer who could take on any foe, whisper his name, anguish apparent in her tone. Why couldn't she just leave? Couldn't she see how hard it was for him to let her go again? Didn't she know how much he loved her, how much he wanted to pick her up in his arms and.... But it was better this way. She had to know that. She had to realize that it didn't matter if his soul was permanent. He was still a monster. And if she committed herself to him, her life would never be normal - in *any* way - again.

Angel turned back to her. "Nothing," he said. "Nothing's going on Buffy. But I think it's time -"

"I went," she finished. "Yeah, I should go. The gang'll be here any minute."

Angel nodded. "Yeah." His mouth quirked in a half-grin. "I know how much Xander would love to come in and visit, but I'm sure all of you are ready to get back to Sunnydale. Back to some semblance of normalcy."

*Normal?* she thought. *We live on a Hellmouth. Besides....nothing has been normal since you left.*

Buffy coughed. "Yeah. I mean....yeah." She gave him a weak smile. "Thanks for, ummm...packing my stuff up. I don't know what's come over me recently. I'm usually an early riser."

He shrugged. "No problem. Besides," he frowned worriedly, "you needed the rest. I think you've been overexerting yourself. You should take a few days off once you get back home."

*Home....home....home is where the heart is.* Buffy smiled slightly. "Right, and let Kiara take over? I think she'd have the place cleared out in no time. Then I'd be out of a job."

"Buffy-"

"Angel-"

They laughed awkwardly, and Buffy sighed. At Angel's nod, she continued what she was about to say. "Angel, I don't want to leave this way. I think if you had it your way, we'd never see each other again. But I won't let that happen. I've tried to move on. But everywhere I turn, you're there. And you know what? I like it that way. I want you in my life. I want to wake up every morning next to you. And regardless of age, regardless of the fact that I'm the Slayer and you're a vampire, regardless of the fact that I'm mortal and you'll live forever...my soul...belongs with yours. And you know that. And neither of us is ever going to be happy without the other...so...." Buffy flopped back onto the bed and propped herself up on her elbows while stretching her legs out in front of her. "I'm not going anywhere. Not until you can look me in the eyes and tell me that you don't feel the same way." Her wide, shining eyes glared up at him, issuing him a challenge he could not refuse.

"Buffy..." Angel said warningly. "You have to go. Your friends will be here soon."

"I don't care," she said petulantly. "Tell me that you don't want me. Tell me that you don't dream of me. Tell me that you don't love me."

Angel leaned down, resting his palms on the foot of the bed. "I couldn't tell you that before and I can't tell you that now. I love you Buffy. You're everything in this world that I have to live for. But-"

"But nothing!" she shouted. "Angel, you love me. I love you. Why shouldn't we be together? Because of your mistaken need to be noble and do the right thing? This *is* the right thing. After everything, *everything*, we've done to be together...you want to throw it all away? I can't do this anymore, Angel. I can't pretend I don't love you." Buffy dropped her gaze to her lap. "I don't wanna do this anymore," she whispered. "I don't wanna love you and know I can't have you. I don't wanna wake up every day, and for the first five seconds of the morning, be victim to the insane hope that everything has been a dream and you'll be lying there beside me. Because it never happens." Tears rolled down her cheeks when she hazarded a bewildered glance up at him, never stopping her hushed tirade. "Every morning I get up and I go to school and I hide what I feel. I even convinced myself that this was for the best. And every night I go out and slay all the bad things that threaten the rest of the world's safe little cocoon. And I wonder why. Why it is that I make this world right for everyone else - safe for them to love and be happy. Why it is that I can't have the same things. You've lived a far longer life than I have, Angel. But you can't tell me it's been any happier. You've experienced things I can't even imagine. But when the most wondrous thing in the world is staring you in the face, you can't reach out and take hold of it. Love isn't something that happens everyday. You know that. But we have it, Angel. Our love is....immortal." Buffy shook her head, managing a small grin. "You ask for redemption, Angel. But that's not a thing you gain if you save enough souls. I know the things you've done. Yet I won't...can't...stop loving you. Isn't that redemption?"

Angel looked down at her. Emotions warred deeply inside of him. He wanted to believe her, knew she was right, but he wouldn't risk her life just to find happiness in his own.

Her voice was soft and resigned as she finished. "If I haven't convinced you that we belong together, then I don't think anything will...." She watched him carefully. When he made no move at all, she nodded, her heart breaking. "Ok then. I'll go."

"Wait," he said, his voice strained. She turned her head slowly. He couldn't help but notice the small glimmer of hope spark to life in her eyes. He cursed himself for what he was about to do, but he couldn't let her just walk away.

His long fingers wrapped around her slender ankles, and with one strong tug he'd pulled her across the bed and was standing between her legs. Buffy gasped and stared up at him, unsure of what his actions meant. However, her confusion did not last long.

Angel reached out and traced a fingertip over her soft lips. Knowing that everything depended on her, Buffy gazed into his fathomless eyes, so dark they were almost black, and flicked out her tongue, licking his skin and drawing his finger between her parted lips. She shivered as the coldness invaded her hot mouth. Angel watched her, the creamy glow of her cheeks, the red blush that tinted her pink lips, the emerald shine of her eyes half closed, and a small smile played over his mouth. Her warm tongue, accompanied by the gentle suction of her mouth, was arousing to him. But it was the unbidden declaration of love in those bright eyes that made him shrug off the last of his inhibitions.

With one fluid, effortless motion, he'd wrapped his arms around her and lifted her into a sitting position in front of him. Angel leaned his knees into the mattress to balance himself, and ran his hands over her small form. She was so tiny compared to him. It amazed him sometimes that she was so capable. His large hands caressed her torso through the thin silk of her lavender camisole. The upward movements of his hands ceased as his thumbs traced the outer curve of her breasts. Buffy raised her gaze to his and smiled knowingly. He groaned softly and ran his hands up her back, to bury them in the silky strands of her hair as he pulled it loose from its ponytail.

"Angel," she whispered.

Angel dropped his hands to her shoulders. He could feel the delicate bones within, so fragile. The urge to protect her always rose strongly in him, but he almost laughed. These bones did not need much protection. She gracefully carried the weight of the world on them most times. He hooked his thumbs under the thin straps of the flimsy shirt and drew them down her arms.

"Mmmm?" he questioned absently, all of his attention centered on the sight of her perfect breasts bared for his perusal.

Buffy blushed hotly and Angel grinned as he noticed the flush creep over her smooth skin. Leaving the straps to somewhat bind her arms to her sides, he knelt down on the floor between her thighs. As his left hand traveled up her sleek thigh, his right hand moved to cup her breast. His fingertips traced circles around the pert nipple. Angel leaned his forehead against her shoulder as his fingers slid under her short skirt and beneath the soft lace of her panties. He could feel the wetness seeping form her core, and it made him smile. He tilted his head down and captured the taut nipple in his cool mouth. His tongue lapped at the hard pebble and his teeth playfully nipped at it.

As he continued his suckling motions, his other hand slipped into her slick warmth. Angel moaned deep in his throat as he listened to the small catches of her breath. He massaged the center of her sensitivity, enjoying the feel of her rocking against his hand.

Buffy felt like she was floating. Being with Angel felt like home. This was where she belonged. She sighed and twisted her body in a silent entreaty for freedom. She was rewarded as the straps of her camisole slid down her arms. Buffy raised her hands to bury her fingers in his thick hair. He played her body like a musical instrument; his fingers made her body sing. She pulled his head up to meet her in a kiss. Their differences in temperatures was like a blast to her body. She shivered as the desire coursed through her, streaking like liquid heat to her core. She sighed against him as their tongues sparred with each other. Buffy felt as if she were being devoured.

It had been so long since anyone had made her feel this way. In fact, no one had since Angel. It seemed as if he and only he had the key to her passions. She wrapped her legs around him in a plea for closeness. Her hunger for him was beyond reason. She trembled against him as his fingers drew her to the edge of reasoning. Sensing how near she was, Angel pulled back. Buffy cried out in discontent and pulled him back down to her, but he just laughed.

He lifted her up and placed her in the middle of the bed, his own body following with ease. Buffy, however, was not feeling as passive. She reached up and tore his shirt open, ripping the buttons she had so carefully closed earlier. Angel quirked a brow as he looked down at her.

"That was one of my favorite shirts," he said playfully.

Buffy growled. "I like it more now. It's a shame, hiding *that* chest."

Laughter rumbled from deep inside *that* chest. Unfortunately he choked on it when Buffy's hands began caressing him, her nails raking over his icy skin and hard nipples.

"I love the way you feel against me," she murmured.

Angel felt breathless as he watched the temptress beneath him. With haste he pulled the silken clothes from her body. He hooked his fingers around the lacy straps of her panties and drew them off her slim legs with excruciating slowness. With a shrug he removed his own shirt and shot her a wicked grin. Angel gathered her in his arms, his weight pressing her into the mattress. She slid her warm hands over the smooth muscles of his back, feeling them dance beneath her fingertips.

Unsatisfied with their proximity, Buffy reached down and glided his pants over his hips and firm buttocks. They laughed as their legs got tangled in her attempt to kick his pants off of him. As they settled down, Angel wrapped his arms around her and rested his forehead against hers.

"You're sure this is what you want?" he asked softly, his deep brown eyes gazing into her lush green eyes.

Buffy nodded. "Make love to me, Angel."

He positioned himself above her, nudging her thighs apart gently with his knee. Angel entered her slowly, letting her adjust to the feel of him. Her slick heat scalded him and he wanted nothing more than to bury himself in her, but he held back. Buffy arched up, seeking greater contact. His cold, hard length slid deeply inside of her, and she instinctively wrapped her body around his. Understanding that she was ready, Angel withdrew and moved inside of her with a slow, deep rhythm. He rose up and joined their hands, their fingers entwining of their own accord. He stared down into her luminous eyes and saw his every emotion mirrored in their abyss. With a contented certainty, Angel bent his head down to capture Buffy's mouth is a tender kiss. No words were needed. He spoke to her in that kiss, just as she answered with the sweet acceptance of her body. He felt the tautness of her body and saw the fine sheen of perspiration upon her warm, golden skin. He wanted this forever.

Buffy arched up to meet his every thrust. It was she who increased their tempo. They moved together in the age old dance. Only the sound of her breathing and that of their bodies joining could be heard in the dimly lit room. Buffy felt as if they had traveled to another time. A time where nothing existed but the two of them; where there were no consequences to be seen by the light of day.

Angel fought back the hunger. He could feel the bloodlust rising within him. He'd hoped that with the release of the demon part of him things would change, but obviously they hadn't. He still craved her thick, sweet blood. He drove into her, rocking their bodies hard, as he fought the shift. But it was to no avail. He knew exactly when he morphed into his game visage. Angel threw his head back, the muscles in his arms and back bulging as he strained above her. He could feel Buffy tensing around his shaft, could feel how close she was.

Buffy felt her juices flowing over her thighs, against his, and onto the bed. They slid against each other, the delicious friction causing her to clench around him. She was aware that he had changed. She also knew he did not want her to know. But it didn't matter to Buffy. She leaned up and captured his lips in a passionate kiss. She wanted him to know that she loved him no matter what face he presented. A low growl escaped him and he rammed into her. Caught off guard, Buffy squealed and raised her hips in offering to him. He plunged into her over and over again, and drove Buffy over the edge. She convulsed against him. He could feel her milking him and had to stifle his urge to sink his fangs into the tender flesh of her neck. As her heat moved in waves over him, he came, spilling his cold seed into her.

As Angel slowed his pace, he collapsed onto her. Buffy didn't mind. She didn't want him to ever move from her. She wrapped her arms loosely around him, her breath coming in short pants. She pressed a kiss to the crown of his head as he rested on the pillow of her breasts.

"I love you," she whispered.

Angel closed his eyes, trying to will his face back to normal. "I love you too. Forever."

They laid in silence for what seemed like forever.

Eventually, Angel rolled over, afraid he would crush her if he didn't move. He sat on the edge of the bed with his back to her. He didn't know how to apologize for his behaviour. Because he wasn't sorry. He just hated that fact that she had to see him like this...during such an intimate moment.

"Angel..." Buffy started. She saw him tense, but felt the need to continue. "Angel, why didn't you-"

"Don't," he said softly, his voice pleading with her. He lifted his pants from the floor and put them on. As he stood to button them, he turned around. She was small and proud, sitting in the middle of his massive bed. Her hair tumbled in disarray around her shoulders, her lips were swollen from their kisses, and her eyes flashed prettily as she glared at him. She would have been picture perfect...had she not been glaring. He took in the useless air and sighed.

"Buffy please. I thought I could control it...but I couldn't. I'm sorry."

"I don't want you to be sorry. I trust you."

"I know," he said, resigned. "And what if I hadn't been able to control myself? I could kill you. And I couldn't live with that."

"You wouldn't."

"How can you be so sure?" he asked angrily. He was furious at himself for risking her life. He'd promised himself he wouldn't do it. On the bright side, he did note, his soul seemed to be intact. *Thank you, Kiara.*

Buffy wrapped the sheet around her and moved from the bed, picking up her discarded clothes. "You know what, Angel? Fine. I love you. A once-in-a-lifetime-love-to-end-all-loves kinda love. But if you can't deal with that, I can't make you. God knows I've tried." She stopped and turned from him, her shoulders shaking with dry sobs.

"Buff-"

"No!" She spun around. "Don't," she said much more quietly. "Don't, Angel. You're so afraid that you'll end up hurting me...you can't see that this is killing me."

They stared at each other, each battling for a cause they believed in.

A horn sounded in the distance.

Then a knock at the front door.

Angel was the first to turn away. "That would be Xander," he said ruefully.

Buffy stared at him a moment longer, her green eyes sparkling with unshed tears. She swallowed hard and nodded. "I'll just get dressed."

Angel paused. He considered throwing caution to the wind and asking her to stay. But he knew, even if she didn't, that they couldn't have a life together. It was hard enough for her already. He couldn't add more stress to that. She was better off without him. Angel turned and walked out of the room, shutting the door quietly behind him.

Buffy sank to the floor, releasing the flood gates. She was so angry, so hurt. She sniffled and looked around the room as her torrent of tears subsided. She threw on her clothes and checked her make-up, making sure her eyes weren't too red. She could pass them off as being bloodshot from a rough night's rest. With a sigh she gathered her bags and walked to the door. She glanced around the room again, still heady with the tension of their lovemaking.

She ran her fingers through her hair and opened the door. The gang was saying good-bye to Angel. She smiled as she watched Xander, hinting none too subtly that they should leave. Cordy was with them, but Buffy knew she was staying in L.A. with Angel. She'd made a new life for herself here. And she liked it. Xander, however, was keeping his distance from her. Yeah, the sexual tension between those two definitely hadn't died with their relationship.

As she walked towards the group, Buffy noticed Willow shooting her odd looks. She wondered for a horrified second if they could tell what had recently transpired, but then realized that Will was just worried about how she was dealing with having to leave Angel behind.

"Slayer, you look like you've been put through the ringer. Have you been fighting with another vampire behind my back?" Spike teased. *Woah....Spike teased? Kiara must be having a *real* good effect on him.*

Buffy smiled wanly. "Watch it, Spike. I could stake your ass on a bad day with my eyes closed."

He grinned. "Is that an invitation, luv?"

Kiara elbowed him and smiled when he grunted loudly.

Buffy arched a brow. "Been taking lessons from Will?" she asked, just as Willow elbowed Xander for a crass comment he whispered to her.

The small, black haired woman grinned. "Hey. It's almost the 21st century. I need to update my slaying techniques."

Buffy rolled her eyes with a grin. "I've heard about your maneuvers. I think you're light-years ahead of us all."

Kiara shrugged. "Ok, then. I just enjoy it?" she elbowed Spike again for the hell of it and received a very loud growl for her efforts.

"Be careful, dearest. You just might bring out the beast in me," Spike warned her.

"Unnecessary warning, *luv*. You're always a beast."

Buffy watched as the group walked out of the door, sparring verbally good-naturedly. She smiled slightly as she looked up at Angel.

"Well....at least I won't be bored."

Angel smirked. "Not with that group. I really don't think Spike knows what he's getting in to."

Buffy nodded. "True. But it'll be nice to see him brought down a peg or two on the ego scale."

Angel smiled at the thought. It faded, however, when he looked down to Buffy. "You'll be ok? And you'll get some rest like I told you?

"I'll be fine," she assured him.

He nodded. "Take care of yourself...."

"You too."

Buffy leaned up and gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek. "Love you," she murmured as she turned and walked out of his apartment.

Angel watched from the doorway.

"And I'll always love you, Buffy."

The End...or is it???

Email Zorya to tell her to finish the series. :-)

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