"A New Day "

Author: Deb Nockels
Email: Debnockels@aol.com
Timeline: Pretty much the canon for Seasons 1-3 of BUFFY. Aside from Buffy et al being in college, Season 4 is ignored. She didn't know Angel was in L.A. and none of the crossovers happened. Neither, most definitely, did Parker. Or Riley. (Not that I dislike Riley; he just has no place in this story.) For ANGEL, most of Season 1 is in place, with one glaring exception: I very reluctantly decided not to include Doyle, since this is set in the future and we still don't know whether or not the character will return on the show.
Notes: I can't believe I don't have song lyrics to go with this story! I know there's gotta be several out there that fit, but my tired little brain just won't come up with any names. Sequel to "Without You."

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"Kendra" advanced on her, dark eyes flashing.  She raked Angel with a scathing glance, then turned the look on Buffy.  Her voice dripped scorn.  "So.  The Slayer has taken up wit her vahm-pire boy-friend again.  Have you for-got-ten so soon the evil he did?  Do you not re-mem-ber how he tricked you into fighting him?  How he lured you away, leaving your friends un-pro-tec-ted so dat his followers could attack them?"

"I remember."  Buffy spoke steadily but her eyes were grave.

"Then per-haps you also re-mem-ber this!"  "Kendra" lifted her chin, the better to display the jagged red scar running lengthwise across her throat.

"Yes."  Buffy swallowed as the memory of the young Slayer lying dead in a pool of blood rose before her eyes.

"Kendra" lowered her head again.  "She did that," she hissed.  "His mad girl-friend.  Dru-sil-la.  Wit her finger-nails.  Like razors, they were.  Slash!"  Kendra mimicked the slash of fingernails on her throat.  "I was six-teen years old when she killed me."

Angel came up beside Buffy; they clasped hands.  "Kendra" continued her diatribe, pacing back and forth in front of them like a cat.  All she lacked was the lashing tail.  "We were de-fense-less when they attacked us, be-cause you were not dere.  I did not even have Mr. Pointy.  I gave it to you, for luck."

She gave a harsh bark of laughter.  "It was not you who nee-ded de luck!  Some Slayer you are!  You do not study the lore.  You have no re-spect for tra-di-tion.  You argue wit your Watcher and flout the orders of de Coun-cil because you tink you are smar-ter than they are.  But you were not smart e-nough to see through the trickery of An-gel-us, were you?  If you had not let yourself be fooled by your evil boy-friend, I might still be alive."

Buffy's throat felt dry.  She knew that this wasn't the real Kendra, that It was the First disguising Itself as the young, dead Slayer, but the accusations hit home nonetheless - just as the First knew they would, of course.  Then she heard Angel's voice.

"Well, that's true," he was saying thoughtfully.  "Of course you might also still be alive if you'd been as good a Slayer as Buffy is."  "Kendra" gaped at him as he continued, "Why do you think Angelus went to so much trouble to decoy her out of the way?  Because he knew how powerful she was, even then, at only seventeen.  After all, she killed the Master when she was just sixteen - the same age you were when you died."

Buffy looked at him askance.  Just what was he trying to accomplish?  "Kendra's" hands flexed, the fingers writhing as if longing to strangle something.  She hissed, "I was strong.  I was fast.  I stu-died and I prac-ticed ev-ery day.  I was as good as she!"   Angel raised an eyebrow.  "Then why are you dead?"

"Be-cause you sent your in-sane girl-friend to kill me!"

Angel shuddered.  "Not my girlfriend, thank God."  Before "Kendra" could react to this he shrugged and said in a calculatedly bored tone.  "You were a Slayer too, Kendra.  You should have been able to protect yourself.  Buffy certainly has."

"Kendra" swelled with outrage.  Her hands stretched out, the fingers curved like gigantic claws.   For a moment it seemed as if she might attack him, but suddenly she grew calm again.  She even smiled.  "Good try, Angel.  But your attempt at a diversion doesn't alter the fact that Buffy showed a foolish lack of judgment.  She allowed herself to be lured away by an obvious trick, and because of that her friends were injured, her Watcher was captured and tortured, and I died!"  There was not a trace of an accent during her entire speech.

Buffy cocked her head.  "Careful, your persona is slipping."  "Kendra's" eyes widened as the entity realized Its error.

Buffy went on.  "Look, just drop the whole ‘I'm Kendra' act, okay?  ‘Cause we know you're not her and you know that we know.  If Angelus's trick was that obvious, why didn't Kendra figure it out?  Or Giles?  Or Willow or Xander or even Cordelia?  They're all intelligent people.  We knew his invitation for a showdown was most likely a trap, but we all believed it was a trap for me.  No one, including Kendra, thought he was really after them.  We were wrong - and Kendra died because of it, and that's something I'll always regret.  But that's part of being human: realizing that we sometimes make mistakes and learning to live with them, even the bad ones."

It was a long and serious speech from someone more accustomed to exchanging banter and quips.  Angel squeezed her hand.  "Kendra" regarded her through half-closed, expressionless eyes; then, as suddenly she had appeared, vanished.  There was a moment of silence.

Buffy let out her breath in a long, melancholy sigh.  "I wish - " she said, then stopped, biting her lip.  Angel took her by the shoulders and gently turned her to face him.  "I know," he told her softly.  "Me too."  She moved into the comfort of his embrace; he kissed the top of her head as she rested her cheek against his chest.

"How touching," proclaimed a feminine voice.  "A real Kodak moment for sure."

Buffy stiffened, then turned her head slowly, knowing what she would see.  She'd been expecting this particular impersonation by the First.  A young girl of about seventeen sat perched on the back of the couch.  She, like "Kendra," had long dark hair and brown eyes, but her skin was fair and her eyes the amber of toffee rather than the darker chocolate hue.  Her figure showed to good advantage in very tight, leopard-print stretch pants and a low-cut, black knit top.  Sliding off the couch she stood before them, thumbs hooked into her pockets, one hip provocatively shot to the side.   Her smile at Buffy was mocking.

"Hey, B.  Happy to see me?"

"Not especially," Buffy replied evenly.  "But I've been expecting you, ‘Faith'."  Her tone put the name in quotes, refusing to play the First's game.

"Of course."  "Faith" tilted her head.  "You knew I wouldn't overlook an opportunity this rich.  Just think of all the possibilities!  The young Slayer, emotionally traumatized by the violent death of her Watcher, turns to the famous Buffy for help, only to end up being killed by her.  Hey, it's a goddamn soap opera."

"You're leaving out a few things, aren't you?" Angel pointed out drily.  "Like how the new Slayer betrayed her calling and her friends by turning to evil."

"You mean helping the mayor with his Ascension?"   "Faith" shrugged.  "Come on, I only joined his side because he showed me some kindness.  Ya know, he actually treated me like a real person, not a delinquent he was embarrassed to be seen in public with."

Angel interpreted.  "You mean he flattered Faith and gave her gifts."  He too rejected the First's impersonation game.

"He cared about me," came the quick retort.  "He liked me.  He accepted me the way I was."  She gave Buffy a sideways look.   "But I don't know, B, maybe there was something you could have done to stop me from turning to the Dark Side of the Force."   Her tone continued to mock.  "Did ya ever wonder about that, afterward?  Wonder whether maybe if you'd tried just a little harder, and, you know, put some real effort into it, you could have saved me from myself?"

Knowing it was useless to try to lie, Buffy said simply, "Of course I did."

"Faith" moved to stand directly in front of her.  "I'm sure."  She shrugged.  "And I understand.  I mean, it must have been a real blow to your self-image."

"What?"  Buffy frowned in puzzlement.

"Faith" put on an expression of understanding.  "Hey, you're the Buffy.  Buffy, the famous, the invincible.  You slew the goddamn Master when you were only sixteen.  You hold the Council record for vampire kills, and that doesn't even include other demon types.  You should have been able to do something to keep a young, troubled Slayer from going bad."

"I tried everything I knew how to do," Buffy said quietly.  "You can't help people who aren't willing to be helped - and Faith wasn't.  Every time I reached out to her, to try to help or even just in ordinary friendship, she slapped me down."

"Faith" sneered.  "Saint Buffy, champion of the underdog.  Spare me.  Maybe I didn't want your pity - or your friendship."

"Maybe you didn't," Buffy conceded, changing tactics and going on the offensive.  She lifted her chin and stared the entity in the eye.  "But even if you hated me, ‘Faith', I know you didn't hate my mother.  How could you do that to her?"

"Your mother?  What do you mean?  I didn't do anything to your mom."   Suddenly uneasy, "Faith" stepped backward, her eyes sliding away from Buffy's gaze.  Buffy followed her.

"I've seen my mom cry three times in my life.  The first time was when her mother died; the second time was when she told me that she and Dad were getting a divorce.  The third time was when she found out that you had changed sides."

"Faith" rallied.  "Yeah?  Guess that must have really pissed you off, huh," she taunted.  "Your mother, caring enough about me to cry over me."

Buffy shook her head.  "No.  Because I was crying too.  It hurt to know that we had done our best, and it wasn't good enough.  I don't think anything would have been enough to keep Faith from self-destructing.  She hated herself and everyone else as well."

Without warning, "Faith" switched gears.  Flicking a sly glance at Angel, she smiled.  "Oh, I didn't hate everyone, B.  Your boy here, for example.  What girl could really hate him?  Tall, dark, gorgeous ... he's quite the stud muffin - but then you know that already."

She sauntered over to the vampire, planting herself in front of him.  "You played me, Angel, you played me real good.  I gotta congratulate ya; I didn't know you were such a good actor.  You sure fooled me into believing you were evil Angelus again."  Leaning in closer, she lowered her voice, almost purring.  "Remember when we were rolling around together on the floor?"

"I remember," Angel answered, his voice expressionless.  He sought Buffy's eyes, praying that she'd be able to read the truth in his, that the memory of that evening brought nothing but disgust at how far he'd been forced to go in his pretense that he'd joined sides with the rogue Slayer.

"Faith" moved to his left side, making sure to brush up against him.  She ran her hands caressingly down his arm.  Angel ignored her, keeping his gaze on Buffy.  "Remember when I was sitting on you - straddling you just about ... here?"  Her hand started to brush across the front of his sweatpants.   Quicker than thought Angel grabbed her wrist.  "Don't even think about it," he warned her coldly, then released her with a contemptuous flick of his hand.

"Faith" laughed.  "Hey, that's not what you said then, big guy.  You loved it; said I should just sit there and wriggle.  Then you kissed me."  With that she strolled behind Angel, thereby missing the look of revulsion that crossed his face.  He struggled to keep his voice even.  "Funny, that's not quite the way I remember it."

Buffy stirred.  "Is there a point to this?  I mean, besides demonstrating that you know how to rub up against men - something, by the way, none of us ever doubted."  For the first time her voice betrayed an emotion other than sorrow or regret; it had a definite edge to it.

"Faith" reappeared on Angel's other side.  Buffy took one look at her gloating expression and braced herself.  "My point, B, is that the whole time I was straddling him, your loving partner in deception had a gigantic woodie."  Her brown eyes flashed triumphantly.

Shock held Angel motionless.  His heart sank.  It was a lie, but would Buffy believe that?  He remembered only too well Buffy's insecurity regarding his feelings toward Faith, her fear that Faith's "bad girl" attitude might be attractive to him.  And never forgotten was her request, after the sickening charade was finally over and Faith unmasked, for time away from him.  She needed a break, she'd said, and what could he do but acquiesce, even though her plea felt like a knife through his heart?

A soft laugh pealed through the air.  Angel's startled gaze swung around to Buffy.  "Oh, please!" she chuckled.  "Is that the best you can come up with?"

"Faith's" change of expression was almost comic.  Her jaw went slack as Buffy walked over to them.  For the first time in their experience, the First was dumbstruck.

Buffy confronted her again, honest amusement on her face.  "You know, I'm a little confused here.  Am I supposed to feel guilty about Faith because I didn't really try to help her, because I tried to help but failed, or because I was jealous of her?  You can't seem to make up your mind.

"Angel did whatever he had to, to make Faith believe he had turned again.  Do you know how long it took Giles and me to talk him into doing it in the first place?"

Then she looked thoughtful.  "Though I think that if Angel had realized just how far he'd have to go, we could have talked ourselves blue but he wouldn't have agreed.  Do you really think he enjoyed having to endure Faith rubbing herself all over him like a - " She hunted for an appropriate comparison.  "Faith" retreated, her lips drawn back in a snarl.

"Like a bitch in heat," Angel supplied helpfully.  "Faith" glared at him furiously.

Buffy raised an eyebrow.  "Well, that's a little harsh, but you were there and I wasn't, so you should know."  Ignoring "Faith," who was speechless with rage, she put her hand on Angel's arm and took a deep breath.

"Angel, I never did apologize for the way I acted afterward.  You didn't deserve it and I'm sorry.  You were only doing what Giles and I persuaded you to do.  It wasn't your fault that things got out of hand."

"Faith" screeched in fury and rushed them, hands outstretched, fingers spread wide as if to claw faces.  Instinctively the duo stepped back, preparing to defend themselves - but as the entity reached them the image dissipated into thin air.

They straightened up, looking around warily.  Almost immediately another figure appeared.  "Dru," Angel greeted it wearily.

" 'Ello, my Angel," "Drusilla" crooned. An old-fashioned doll dressed in rather grimy, tattered clothing nestled in the crook of one arm. "Drusilla" displayed it, saying in her familiar whiny, sing-song tone, "Do you remember Miss Edith? She belonged to my baby sister. She used to carry her everywhere. She even slept with her in her little bed, though she was five years old and our mum told her she was too old to sleep with a dolly." The beautiful vampire's eyes were dreamy, and quite insane.

She looked at Angel inquiringly. "Do you remember seeing Miss Edith when you killed my baby sister, Angel? She got blood on her pretty dress, Miss Edith did, but I rescued her and washed it all off." She raised the doll to her cheek.

Angel listened in silence, his eyes filled with sorrow as he looked at the image of the lovely young girl his vampire self had driven mad before turning her into a monster. Buffy moved to his side, putting her arm around his waist. He glanced down and smiled, though sadly, then turned his attention once again to "Drusilla."

"I'm sorry for what the vampire did to Drusilla's family - and for what he did to her. God knows I wish there was some way to undo it. But there isn't."

"Drusilla" drifted dreamily toward Buffy. "He did it to you too, Slayer, didn't he? Hurt you, I mean." She gave a tinkling little laugh. "I remember how he smiled when he told Spike and me about watching you crying on your bed after he came back to us. ‘She's remembering her night with Soul Man,' he told us. ‘And wondering what she did wrong.' And then he laughed ... just like he laughed before he bit my neck in the convent."

Angel tightened his arm around Buffy's shoulders, but she only sighed and said, "It doesn't work, ‘Drusilla.' Not this time. That was the vampire, not Angel." She smiled at Angel and pulled his head to hers for a kiss.

When they looked up, another transformation had taken place - Drusilla changing into the gypsy Enyos, Jenny Calendar's uncle. Brown eyes regarded them scornfully. "You'd like to believe that, wouldn't you? But Angel was never any good, even before he became a vampire. He was a drunkard, a seducer of young maidens - "

"That's not true," Angel interrupted calmly. "The women I had relations with before I Changed were hardly innocent young maidens. I wasn't a killer and I never deliberately hurt anyone - unlike you and your revenge-obsessed clan."

"Enyos" sneered. "If you are referring to your moment of true happiness - "

Angel again interrupted. "No. I'm talking about calling back a soul from its place of rest and forcing it to inhabit a body possessed by a demon. A body that had been used to perform terrible, evil deeds - deeds the soul had known nothing about and couldn't have prevented if it had known. I'm talking about forcing the soul to enter into the memory of the demon and recall every detail of that horror, and to suffer from those memories for all eternity. Your clan called it vengeance, but there were other ways that could have been done, ways that would have actually punished the demon itself."

"Enyos" ground his teeth and vanished. Buffy eyed Angel, who looked understandably grim. "Wow, that was eloquent. And true."

The front door burst open and a horde streamed in. Buffy and Angel instantly sprang into defense mode, only to relax as they recognized Giles and the Scooby Gang. The group scattered across the room. Xander and Oz carried large tote bags which they dropped on the floor and opened. The bags contained stakes - dozens of them. Willow had brought her "witch bag," as she called the small tote that contained her spell-working materials.

"Are you all right?" Giles demanded, trying to look in every direction at once. He held an armed crossbow, and dangling from his belt was a sheath bristling with replacement bolts. "Has the attack started?"

"Sort of," Buffy answered. "The First is still trying the emotional warfare thing."

"So far," contributed Angel, "we've been presented with images of Kendra, Faith, Drusilla and Jenny's uncle. Now that you're here, Giles, I can make a shrewd guess who we'll see next."

Giles nodded grimly. "I'm sure you're right," he said.

Right on cue, "Jenny" appeared. Her lovely eyes regarded Giles wistfully. "Rupert," she breathed. "How are you?"

In spite of his anticipation of this very event, Giles was deeply affected by the image. "Jenny." He swallowed. "No. You're not Jenny. Jenny's dead."

"Yes," "Jenny" agreed sadly. She moved toward him with the balletic grace they remembered so well. "I'm dead." She stopped only inches away. "It's so good so see you again. I've missed you so much. I loved you, Rupert. I think you loved me too."

"I did," Giles whispered painfully. "I still do."

"Jenny" sighed and lifted a hand to his cheek, stroking it softly. "We never got the chance to be together, Rupert. I had it all planned out, but Angel killed me before we could meet. He broke my neck, you know. Snapped it like a twig."

Willow gasped audibly, and Buffy went cold. Instinctively she moved closer to Angel, who was listening with an expression of deep pain on his face. She lifted his hand and kissed it, but knew that nothing but time would heal this particular wound. As Giles had said earlier that evening, Jenny's death was still too fresh in his mind.

"Why?" demanded "Jenny," tearfully. "Why did he do it, Rupert? All I wanted was to help him, to give him back his soul. Angel killed me, and now the future you and I might have had together is gone."

The entity had overplayed Its hand. At this reminder of what had been controlling Angel's body at that time, Giles snapped back to reality. He stepped away, saying with finality, "It wasn't Angel who killed Jenny. It was the vampire. Angelus."

"The real Jenny knows that," Buffy added. "She appeared to us and told Angel that she didn't blame him for her death."

Xander now stepped forward. "Look, Ms. Evil With A Thousand Faces, you've failed. Okay? Angel isn't the basket case he was the last time you were here, plus we're on to you now. Accept it. This just isn't going to ... work. Uh - "

Suddenly aware that under the circumstances this might not have been the smartest thing to say, he paused, then said brightly, "On the other hand, emotions are tricky things! I mean, you never know when a seemingly casual word might trigger an explosive reaction. And then, whoosh!" He made an expansive gesture, a sickly grin on his face.

Catching Buffy's glare, he added, "Okay, shutting up now," and retreated to his previous position, looking sheepish. Willow gave him one of her "Are you crazy?" looks, Giles also glared. Oz merely shook his head.

"Jenny" stared around at the group, examining each one closely. Then she smiled with an unpleasant expression never seen on the real Jenny's face, and expanded to three times her previous height. As the group backed away "Jenny" gave a wave of her hand. Two vampires in Harrower garb burst in through the door.

"Kill them," she casually ordered.

Instantly the doorway was boiling over with Harrowers. "I thought you had to invite them in!" Buffy called to Angel as she kicked out at the first one to come close.

"Unfortunately, that only applies to the homes of living beings," Angel replied grimly. Two vamps closed in on him, both wielding knives. He kicked the knife from the hand of one vamp, threw the vamp into the next room, and evaded the second one, diving for the stakes he'd left on the couch earlier. Now supplied with one in each hand, he shouted out, "Buffy!" and tossed one to her.

She caught it in midair and whirled on the vampire stalking her from behind, deftly staking him. A knife fell from its hand with a clatter. Immediately she went after another one, staking it as well. Across the room Xander and Oz were also busy, as was Giles with his crossbow. Soon the air was hazy with vampire ash.

Even Willow was fighting. The pretty redhead gasped in fright as a Harrower grabbed her arm. Unluckily for the vampire, it wasn't the arm holding a stake. Oz started toward her, but with a grunt Willow drove the wood into the vampire's chest just as it prepared to stick its knife in her gut. The hood fell back from its face as it staggered, revealing the ugliest face she'd ever seen on a vamp - including the Master. Old, leathery skin was pulled tight over the bones - it looked almost mummified before it dissolved in a shower of dust.

"Eww," she grimaced, then shouted, "Oz, look out!" A vampire grabbed the diminutive young man and bit into his neck. A second later he gagged, spitting out blood, and released Oz, who backed away, breathing hard. "What's the matter, you've got something against werewolves?" he asked. Tiny drops of blood trailed down his neck.

"Only against their tainted blood," the Harrower growled, circling him. Yellow eyes gleamed from inside the hood. "It tastes like the inside of a bird cage." Oz unexpectedly leaped straight at the vamp. The stake in his hand unerringly found its target. "That wasn't a nice thing to say," he said mildly as the vampire exploded.

Willow ran to him. "Oz, are you all right?" "Yeah," he answered, never abandoning his alert watch. "It's just a scratch. How about you?" She reassured him and they made their way over to Xander.

That young man was having his own troubles. A vampire had grabbed him from behind and, twist as he might, Xander couldn't get loose and couldn't get his stake anywhere close to its heart. Luckily for him his attacker didn't appear to be armed with anything. For long moments he struggled with it, bending and circling first this way then the other, but failed to dislodge it. Finally, in desperation he jabbed the stake into the vamp's thigh. The demon howled with pain, but still it stuck to his back like a burr.

Suddenly he felt a blow that almost sent him to his knees. In the next instant the weight on his back disappeared and he was showered with dust. Xander whirled around to see Angel jerking his arm back from staking position. "Thanks," he panted.

"My pleasure." Angel gave him a little smile, which abruptly disappeared when Xander added, "You must have been eating your Wheaties. After last night I thought you'd be laid up for a week." His eyes flicked thoughtfully over to Buffy. Then he looked at Angel's closed expression. "I'm glad to see you on your feet so soon. Buffy needs you."

Angel's face relaxed. He nodded at Xander. "Thanks." Xander nodded back then the two men turned their attention to the remaining attackers. Of which there were only a few, they discovered with astonishment. Before long there weren't any.

"Is that it?" Xander demanded, searching every corner with his eyes.

"It can't be," Giles said tensely. "There must be more . . . waiting outside, perhaps."

Angel looked wary. "This was too easy." Buffy nodded in agreement. Sure enough, a moment later more Harrowers streamed in and the fight began again. Again the pattern repeated itself - within a remarkably short time only a few vamps remained.

Suddenly "Jenny" reappeared. "Enough!" she declared, making an imperious gesture. Instantly the Harrowers stopped fighting. The First surveyed them scornfully. "What a pathetic display. I'm embarrassed to claim you as my servants. Twenty-six of you gone to dust and yet there is hardly a scratch to be seen on any of these puny mortals. Pathetic. Pathetic and boring."

She waved her hand again and her servants scuttled away like roaches exposed by sudden light. "Jenny's" dark eyes turned toward the Gang. "I refuse to waste my time like this when there is easier prey to be found. But, lest you become too complacent, let me add that I'll be back. Maybe next month, maybe not for years. But, like General MacArthur, I shall return." The entity vanished.

Silence fell and they all looked at one another. Finally a single voice spoke up. "General who?" asked Xander.

"MacArthur," Willow answered automatically. "I'll explain it to you later."

"He commanded the American troops in the South Pacific during World War II," said Giles absently, his mind obviously elsewhere.

"Never mind the history lesson," Buffy exclaimed. "Giles, do you think she meant it?"

"Well, we mustn't let our guard down too much," Giles replied. "But, yes, I believe it's over for now. The First isn't known for having the patience to conduct long-term sieges unless It's getting significant results in return - which It no longer receives from you."

"Giles is right," Angel said slowly. "If you think about it, last time the First gave up just as easily after I didn't suicide."

"It makes sense. It's not as if there aren't plenty of other opportunities for It to seize," Oz contributed. "Easier ones, just as It said."

"I guess so," Buffy said blankly. "It just seems - " She shrugged. "I don't know."

"Too good to be true?" suggested Willow.

"A bit of an anti-climax?" Giles smiled.

Buffy laughed. "Both of those, I guess. Well ... after the battle comes - the cleaning up. " She looked around the room and made a face. "Boy, vampires sure do make a mess when they die. Angel, I don't suppose you have a vacuum cleaner, do you?"

"I'm afraid not," he said, smiling. "I think there's a broom and dustpan hiding somewhere, though." She gave him a look and told him, "Tomorrow I'll bring my mom's vacuum over. I mean, later today. And more towels. And I need to get food - and more clothes - " She sank into reverie, mumbling to herself.

Angel also grew thoughtful. "I'll call Cordelia and have her start closing up the office."

"Office?" Xander asked quizzically, then did a double take. "Wait - you said ‘Cordelia.' You mean our Cordy? Okay, desperately needing back story here."

Willow took his arm. "Later," she said firmly. "After we've all had a chance to rest up." She tugged at him, trying to get him to leave. Xander planted his feet and refused to move. "No, wait. Will, he used ‘Cordelia' and ‘office' in the same sentence! That does not compute."

Oz took his other arm and together he and Willow dragged the still protesting Xander toward the door. Giles turned to Buffy and Angel with a smile. "Well, I'll be taking my leave also."

"Thanks for coming here tonight," Buffy said.

Angel came up behind her. "Yes, thank you, Giles." He held out his hand; Giles took it, clapping him on the shoulder. His eyes went to Buffy with an affectionate look, then back to her vampire lover. "Take good care of her," he told Angel, who smiled. "I will," he promised.

Buffy rolled her eyes. "If you're through with the male bonding bit, I'd like to go back to bed."

Giles shook his head. "How you could even think of going back to sleep after all this adrenalin rush, I can't imagine." Buffy gave him a bland look, and it was his turn to roll his eyes. "Oh. I see. Or rather, I don't see, nor do I wish to. Goodnight." He left.

Buffy sighed and wrapped her arms around Angel's waist, holding him close. He kissed the top of her head; his hands stroked her back soothingly. After a second Buffy raised her head. "Kiss me," she invited.

Angel did.

The End

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