Buffy sighed.  Reluctantly she stepped out of Angel's embrace.  "We need to talk."  They were still standing on the sidewalk in front of The Bronze.  Several exiting couples had strolled past them, sending interested and curious glances their way, along with an occasional leering smile and lewd remark.  All had been ignored.

"I know."  Angel brushed strands of hair away from her face.  His fingertips lingered, caressing.  "I've missed the feel of your hair - it's like silk.  And your eyes, so beautiful."

"Anything else?" Buffy breathed, mesmerized by his eyes and his soft, husky voice.

He ran one finger over her mouth.  "Just your lips. They're perfect."  He bent down and gently kissed her, then straightened.  "Where do you want to talk?"

Buffy cleared her throat.  "Well, my car's here.  We could at least sit down."

"I have a better idea," Angel suggested.  "Let's go to my place."

"The mansion?" Buffy asked, surprised.  "I didn't know you'd kept it."

Angel nodded.  "It's a little dusty, but I think we'll be more comfortable there than in a car."

Buffy smiled a little.  "That wouldn't be hard.  I'll drive."

They got in her car; Buffy stuck the key in the ignition.  "Nice key ring."  Angel indicated the tiny metallic angel dangling from its ring.

Focused on maneuvering out of her parking spot, Buffy replied absently, "It was a present from Ryan.  He was into angels.  Of course, he had no idea what it would mean to me, so it sort of backfired on him."  Angel's half-smile faded; he was silent.

Even though it was only ten o'clock the streets were practically empty.  They made it to the mansion in only six minutes.  Angel unlocked the door, saying apologetically, "I haven't had time to clean up."   He reached inside and switched on the light.  Buffy entered and almost fell over two suitcases sitting right inside the door.  "Oh, sorry."  He hastily pushed them against the wall with his foot.  "I was in kind of a hurry when I got home.  I just dumped everything and left."

"To go to The Bronze," Buffy said.  He nodded.

"To wait for me?"

"To wait for you."

"In a hurry, were you?"

Angel smiled a little.  "I thought you'd never get there."

Buffy put her arms around his waist, rested her head on his chest.  His arms came around her.  "I love you."

"I love you," he replied.  After a moment they sighed and stepped apart.  "I'm afraid I don't have anything to offer you to drink," Angel said.  "Unless you want tap water.  Or, I brought some tea bags with me."

"No, thanks.  I'm fine.  But let's get these covers off the furniture."   Buffy went around the front room, removing sheets from the furniture.  Dust rose, making her sneeze.   "Here, let me do that."  Angel carefully pulled off the remaining dust covers, then took the bundle from Buffy, carrying it out of the room.  Buffy wandered over to the fireplace.  She noticed there were logs stacked in the grate.  Angel came back, minus his jacket.  "Would you like a fire?" he asked, seeing where she was.

"Sure.  Fires are nice."  She smiled.

Angel knelt down, busying himself with matches.  "Who's Ryan?" he asked very casually, not looking at Buffy.

Buffy was watching his hands.  "Ryan?" she absently repeated.

Angel glanced at her.  "Ryan.  The one who gave you the key ring."

"Oh, Ryan.  Just a guy I dated for a little while," Buffy said matter-of-factly.

"Oh."  Angel watched the tiny flames leaping from the kindling as if his life depended on them not flickering out.  "Did you date many guys?"

"A few."  He was silent.  "Okay, around ten, if you really want to know."

"Ten."  He glanced at her again.  She shrugged and said, "Or twelve.  I didn't keep score.  It beat staying alone in my room, not to mention kept my mom from driving me crazy.  Besides, isn't that what you wanted me to do?  Live a normal life?"

Angel ignored the sudden edge in her tone.  "So there wasn't anyone you were - serious about?"  He watched the fire again.

"Let's see ... Doug was into running, same as me. But that was all he wanted to talk about: running and hiking and biking.  So then there was Alan, who was funny and liked the same movies I did, but couldn't understand why I insisted on going home on the weekends, usually without him.  Ditto Ryan and Luis.  Jensen ... "

Catching the change in her voice, Angel glanced up.  She was smiling fondly.  His hand clenched.

"Jensen and I had a lot of fun together, but he's gay and once he found Mark, it was goodbye Buffy.  We have coffee once in a while, that's all.  Sean and Philippe each lasted a couple of months before they found someone else.  Do you want me to go on?"

Angel sat on the raised hearth, once more avoiding her eyes.  He wet his lips.  "Did you - "  He stopped.  "I'm sorry.  I have no right to ask you that."

"You're the only one who does have the right," Buffy said gently, all rancor forgotten.  "And the answer is no.  I didn't sleep with any of them.  There's only been you."

He couldn't repress a surge of joy at her words.  He looked at her, then looked away in shame.  "I shouldn't be glad of that - but I am.  I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry."  Buffy went over and sat next to him.  The fire felt good on her back.  She took a breath.  "Because I'm about to ask you the same question.  Did you - meet anyone special?"

"No." Angel said, simply.  He put his arm around her.

Buffy sighed and leaned against his shoulder.  "We have some issues to work through, don't we?  This isn't a romance novel, where we kiss and make up and live happily ever after, end of story."

"No," Angel agreed.  "This is real life."  They fell silent.  After a moment Angel rose to his feet, pulling her with him.  "Come on, let's sit on the couch.  If we're going to have a serious discussion we can at least be comfortable during it."

They went over to the couch, where Buffy insisted on sitting on Angel's lap.  She fit perfectly.  Angel held her, his eyes closed, rejoicing in the weight of her in his arms, her head on his shoulder, her fingers stroking his neck and face.

"Let's not have any serious discussions tonight, okay?" she murmured.  "I just want to enjoy being with you."

He kissed her hair.  "Sounds good to me."

Buffy raised her face.  "Plus I think we need to work on that making up part I mentioned.  It's been at least five minutes since we've kissed," she hinted.  Her free hand crept around to the back of his neck, urging his head down.

"Much too long," Angel murmured.  Her lips were soft and inviting, and the kiss seemed to go on forever - or perhaps it merely segued into other long, leisurely kisses.  Dimly he heard the crackle of the fire, then the soft thud as a small log broke in two.

She shifted her position slightly and her mouth opened under his.  He felt the brush of her tongue and met it with his own, savoring her textures.  His arms tightened about her yielding body, holding her closer.  Tiny ribbons of heat ran through his body, potential danger signals, but tonight he welcomed the sensation as a starving man would rejoice in a banquet.  Their kiss deepened.  Without his conscious volition Angel cupped her breast in his hand, ran his thumb over her nipple.  She wore no bra; even through her sweater top he could feel the sensitive flesh harden.

Buffy made a soft sound, deep in her throat.  She unbuttoned his shirt and slipped her hand inside.  It was Angel's turn to gasp as her fingers traced hot trails on his skin.  "Buffy," he whispered.  "I've dreamed of this so many times."

"So have I," she breathed.  "Touch me again, Angel."  He began to stroke her breast through the sweater, but she stopped him.  "No.  Touch me the way I'm touching you."  Her eyes never leaving his, she guided his hand beneath her sweater.  He covered her breast with his palm and caressed her, squeezing gently.  Leaning down she touched her lips to his chest; her tongue brushed over his nipple.  Angel inhaled sharply.

Buffy sat up.  "I'm sorry.  I shouldn't have - "

He put a finger on her lips.  "Did I ask you to stop?"

She smiled slightly.  "No.  But I think I better, before it gets too hard."

Eyes twinkling, he said,  "Too late."   Suddenly aware of his growing erection, Buffy blushed and moved to get off his lap.  Angel stopped her.  "You don't have to get up."

"But - " She blushed even more.  "You're - I mean, it's not safe.  We better stop."

Angel gave a little laugh.  "Buffy, if being sexually aroused when I'm with you was that dangerous, we'd both be dead by now.  I've had an erection whenever we're together almost since the first time we met."

Buffy stared at him.  "You have?"

"Yes."  Angel cupped her face in his hands.  "And I don't mind.  It just reminds me of how much I love you."  They kissed again, but their rising passion had subsided, and they were content just to cuddle and exchange long, slow kisses and tender caresses.

A sudden knock at the door shattered the intimacy.  They broke apart, startled and a little dazed.  "Who knows you're back in town?" Buffy asked

Besides your mother? he thought wryly.  "Willow does," he evaded.  "I ran into her at The Bronze."

Another, louder knock sounded.  Angel said, reluctantly, "I guess I better see who it is."  He moved Buffy off his lap onto the couch and answered the door, not surprised in the least to see who stood there.

"Willow," he greeted her, nodding to her companion.  "Oz.  What can I do for you?"  He moved aside to let them in.  Willow entered first, talking nonstop.

"Angel, I'm glad we found you.  We need to speak to you and - oh, Buffy, you're here!  Good, now we can tell both of you at the same time."

"Tell us what, Will?"  Buffy realized that Angel had forgotten to button his shirt and tried to telegraph a message to him with her eyes, but he was gazing at Willow.  She tried again.

"Tell you that I think I've found - What are you looking at?"  Willow turned around.  "Oh.  Angel, your shirt's unbuttoned."

She turned back to Buffy and only then seemed to realize what she had said, and the probable implication behind it.  Her face turned bright red.  Struggling not to laugh,  Angel looked down at each button as he fastened it, a way to avoid seeing Willow's expression.  Buffy rolled her eyes and threw Oz a supplicating look.  He stepped in.

"Will thinks she and Anya have found a way to redo the curse on you, Angel - a way that doesn't put your soul in danger the way it is now."   Amusement vanished in an instant.

"What?"  Buffy stood up.  "How?  Are you sure?"

Angel sat down rather suddenly on a nearby ottoman, stunned.  Willow finally recovered from her embarrassment.  She explained, adding, "But come and look at it yourself, Angel.  You're sort of an expert on curses too.  Tell us if you think we're wrong.  But I bet we're not."  She tossed her head with a confident air, then became serious.

"Um, there's something else you should know."  They regarded her warily.  "Anya pointed out something to me that I had completely missed before.  Angel, the gypsies who worked the curse didn't just summon your soul back into your body and leave it at that.  They really, really wanted you to suffer eternal torment, so they built guilt and remorse into the curse."

After a second, Angel smiled grimly.  "Remind me never to get on the wrong side of the Romany again.  Compared to them, the Hatfields and McCoys are rank amateurs at vengeance.  I should have guessed something of the sort."

"Wait," Buffy interrupted.  "Are you saying what I think you're saying?"

Angel rose and went over to her.  "The Rom didn't trust that my conscience by itself would make me suffer enough for what I'd done."  He made a rueful grimace.  "Maybe they knew of my reputation before I Changed.  Anyway, they added extra guilt and anguish to the curse, like putting more sugar in a cake to make it sweeter."

"Oh!  Good analogy!" Willow exclaimed.  Then her face clouded.   "Or not. I wouldn't exactly call this sugar."

"No," Oz agreed drily.  "More like acid."

Buffy wanted to make sure she understood.  "So the curse took whatever feelings you already had and made them even stronger?"

"Yes," came three voices in unison.

She clamped down on the hot words she wanted to use about the Romany, merely asking, "Then what are we waiting for?  Angel?"

He hesitated a second.  "Let's go take a look."

They entered Willow's bedroom through the outside door, Willow understandably not wanting to disturb her parents.  "How's it going?" she immediately asked Anya.

Angel recognized her now.  Anya was an ex-demon whose specialty had been granting revenge for girls who had been betrayed by men.  She had lost her powers in some fashion Angel wasn't sure of, and was now stuck in her current, human, body until they returned.  If they ever returned.

Anya shook her head.  "I told you it would take me awhile.  This isn't a cake recipe, you know.  It's a delicate and complex structure, and I have to watch every step.  If I get even one word wrong it could ruin everything."

"She'll be through in about ten minutes," Xander interrupted.  He was lounging on Willow's bed, reading a People Magazine.  Anya spun around and glared at him.  "That's what you said before everyone walked in, isn't it?"  He returned her stare.  "Anya, everybody here knows you're the expert when it comes to curses; that's why you were asked to do this.  You don't have to try to impress us."

"May I watch?" Angel asked, hoping to defuse the situation.  Anya transferred her glare to him, then said grudgingly, "I guess so."  The two chairs were taken, so he knelt down to better see the monitor.  She had the documents on a split screen, and Angel was able to compare the new version against the old.  After reading them, he glanced at her with respect.

"You're very good," he told her sincerely.  Anya looked somewhat mollified.  "Thank you."  She resumed her typing, and Angel silently re-read the original curse.  The malevolence behind the words all but scorched the screen.

"They really hated you, didn't they?"  Buffy said softly, reading over his shoulder.

Angel replied, bleakly, "They had reason to."

Xander, who had opened his mouth to say almost the exact same thing, closed it again.  Angel's gaunt appearance had shocked him, driving home the point that his exile, however voluntary, had been at least as hard on him as it had on Buffy.

"I've been thinking," he said instead.  "Anya, what was it you said about most people not being able to handle a curse like this?"

"I said that most people would have broken under it, probably in less than a decade."

"Yeah."  He looked directly at Angel for the first time.  "I think that's what they thought would happen with you.  I don't believe they really expected you to survive this long.  You were supposed to suicide."

"I thought about it," Angel admitted, very low.  "Many times.  I'm not really sure what kept stopping me."  Buffy put her hand on his shoulder.  Angel leaned back against her, drawing her arms around his neck.  She kissed the top of his head.

Xander watched in silence.  His feelings for Buffy had mellowed over the past two years into something less painful than his previous unfulfilled longing.  He would probably always be a little bit in love with her, but he could now think of her as just a friend.  A very, very special friend who killed vampires, and who happened to love and be loved by a vampire.

"Okay," Anya said a few minutes later.  "I'm finished."  Everyone crowded around to read.

"Anya, you're wonderful!" exclaimed Willow.  "This is a masterpiece."

"Wait."  Angel pointed at a line in the original text.  "Put this back in."  Anya looked at him strangely.  "Are you sure?" she asked.  He nodded.  "I'm sure."  She shrugged and typed, "The memory of his evil deeds shall live with him for the rest of his days."

"Don't you think you'll remember anyway?" Buffy said quietly.  "Do you really need to have that in there?"

"I don't want to take the chance," Angel replied.  "Not only because I shouldn't forget, but because those memories have proven useful to us, time and time again."

"That's true," Buffy agreed after a moment.  "So, Will, when can you do this?"

Willow swallowed.  "Whenever Angel wants me to.  I have everything I need right here."

"Tonight."  Angel stood up, determination obvious in every line of his stance.  "But not here.  We'll go back to my place.  It might get a little ... noisy when the curse takes effect."

Buffy shot him an inquiring glance.  "It hurts," he explained briefly.  Buffy frowned, unhappy, but went to get her purse from the dresser, where she'd tossed it.  Angel took the opportunity to go over to Xander.

"Can you get hold of some stakes?" he asked, very quietly.  Xander looked at him sharply.  "Oz keeps a supply in his van," he told him, just as low.   "Good.  If anything goes wrong tonight, I want to be sure you're all ... armed.  I don't suppose Oz has crosses too?"

Xander raised an eyebrow.  "In Sunnydale?"  He reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulled out a wooden cross.  Angel flinched, and Xander replaced it.  "Sorry.  Just wanted to show you that we're all battle-ready."

"Good," Angel repeated.  He looked at Buffy as she appeared beside him, checking to make sure she was wearing a cross.  She was - the silver cross he'd given her years ago when they first met.  Looking at it, Angel's throat tightened.  Hope and fear warred for supremacy.  Tonight would end his struggle, one way or the other.

He took Buffy's hand.  "Oz, is it okay if we ride with you?" he asked.  When Buffy looked her surprise at him, he told her softly, "I want to hold you."

Oz was agreeable; besides, he had a pretty shrewd idea why Angel had asked.  As he started the engine he glanced back.  Buffy sat on Angel's lap; they were so closely entwined he didn't know how Buffy could breathe.  He glanced at Willow, and saw by her expression that she had seen them also.  They exchanged serious looks, then he put the van in gear and drove off.

"Angel, are we doing the right thing?  I'm so scared," Buffy murmured.  "What if something goes wrong?  I can't lose you again."  She shuddered and buried her face in his neck.

"We have to try," Angel said.  He kissed her temple.  "Buffy, this is our only chance for a more normal relationship.  We can't not try."  She lifted her face and they kissed, fiercely, desperately, straining against each other with all the desire they'd repressed earlier.

Oz brought the van to a stop, turned off the ignition.  "We're here," he called out.  He risked another glance into the back, saw the couple in a very passionate embrace, and hurriedly turned his eyes to the front again.  He cleared his throat.  "Guys?  We're here."  There was no reply, but he could hear them moving apart.  He and Willow got out of the van, and a second later Buffy and Angel followed suit.

Xander and Anya were waiting for them. In silence Angel unlocked the door. While Willow and Anya arranged the ingredients and objects, Xander and Oz discreetly armed themselves with stakes, leaving extras by the door. Angel went over to the manacles dangling from one wall. He examined them, pulling hard on them to test the strength of the chain and its fastening.

"Why are you doing that?" Buffy looked at him with a frown.

"I want you to put these on me when Willow starts." She began an indignant refusal, but he cut her off. "Buffy, we don't know what's going to happen. I don't want to take chances with anyone's safety."

He spoke in a matter-of-fact tone, hoping to minimize what he felt was a very real danger. To his relief, Buffy accepted his reasoning, though obviously not happy about it. He gave her a reassuring smile and went over to Xander. Before he could ask, Xander spoke. "We've got them, plus extras."

"Good." He paused. "There's one more thing." He looked Xander in the eye. "If things go horribly wrong, and I Change again, the way I did before - stake me. Don't wait, just do it. Don't give me the opportunity to kill someone else the way I did - " He swallowed. "The way I killed Jenny Calendar."

"Don't worry, I won't," Xander told him firmly. Angel thanked him and started to turn away. "Angel." He glanced back. "Good luck," Xander said, meaning it. After a second Angel nodded. "Thank you."

"Okay, I'm ready." Willow looked around, brushing her hands nervously on her pants. Angel went over to the manacles, Buffy right beside him. He bent over her, holding her face tenderly in his hands.

"Whatever happens," he whispered, "remember that I love you. I'll always love you." They kissed, then Angel stepped away. He put his hands behind his back. Reluctantly Buffy snapped the thick iron cuffs around his wrists.

"You do have the key to these things, I hope," she tried to joke, even as her eyes flooded with tears. Angel smiled and told her, "They're on top of my dresser." She rested her forehead on his chest; he kissed the top of her head, closing his eyes briefly. "Go now," he whispered. Behind her she heard Willow's voice, already chanting.

Blinking away the tears, she stepped backward, her eyes never leaving Angel's, until she found herself next to Xander. He too watched Angel intently. Without thinking, Buffy reached for his hand.

Surprised, Xander glanced down at her. Her eyes remained fixed on Angel's, full of hope and worry. He tightened his fingers reassuringly, and she clung to his hand like a lifeline. The bitter scent of burning herbs filled the room, made them cough. Willow's voice rose, and faltered. She caught herself and continued on, but a minute later she hesitated again. Buffy glanced over to see what the problem was. Willow stopped speaking, just stood there staring blankly in front of her.

"Will?" Oz caught her by the arm. "What's wrong?"

A yell of anguish spun Buffy around. Angel's body arched like a bow, straining against his bonds, then he fell to his knees. Panting, he leaned back against the wall. Around him a glittering whirlwind rose, carrying dust and bits of debris into the air. He cried out again, and to Buffy's horror morphed into his vampire face. Still breathing heavily, he looked around the room, spotted Buffy, and smiled.

"Why hello, Buff. Long time no see."

Buffy stared, unbelieving, as Angelus stumbled to his feet. He leaned for support against the wall, obviously very weak. Next to her, Xander whipped out a cross. Sweat shone on his forehead, and she heard him mutter, "Oh, God. No. Please, no."

Angelus studied them. Willow was still in a trance; Oz and Anya hovered around her. "Willow?" Oz kept shaking her arm. "Anya, what's wrong with her?"

"I don't know. It looked like something stopped her from completing the spell." Anya looked shaken herself, but she stepped forward and looked Angelus over curiously. "So you're Angelus."

He smiled at her, the engaging, cocky smile Buffy remembered so well. The bitter taste of bile rose in her throat. "And you're Anyanka - I'm sorry, it's only Anya now, isn't it? Too bad we didn't meet before you lost your power, doll. We could have made beautiful music together. But what do you say, one demon to another, how about getting me out of these?" He rattled his chains.

Anya cocked her head to one side. "You know," she said consideringly, "I think that might possibly be the stupidest thing I could do. How dumb do you think I am?"

Angelus grinned. "Hey, can't blame a guy for try - " He stopped in mid-word. A massive shudder went through him. He groaned and slumped against the wall. When he looked up again, it was Angel's face they saw.

"Buffy?" he asked weakly. "What's happening?"

Buffy stepped forward. Xander tried to hold her back but she shook him off and went to Angel. Xander followed, cross in hand. "Angel? Something's gone wrong." She cupped his chin with her hand. "Willow just - stopped. Before the spell was finished. And you - " She couldn't go on.

Angel finished for her. "He was here, wasn't he?" When she nodded he closed his eyes for a minute, then looked at Xander. "Remember your promise."

Xander swallowed hard, and nodded. Angel looked back at Buffy. "I'm sorry." His voice was barely a whisper; tears gleamed on his cheeks. "I love you - "

He cried out, his body convulsed, and Angelus was back. They stepped back, even though they knew he couldn't reach them. He seemed stronger. "Hey, it's the Xand-man," he greeted Xander cheerily. "Does your little Xena-wannabe here know what you promised her honey? Does she know that you're supposed to kill him?"

"Not him. You." Xander spoke steadily, though his throat was tight with grief.

Angelus shrugged. "Him, me. Same thing, pal. If you kill me, she'll never see her lover boy again. Think she'll forgive you for that?" He raised an eyebrow. "Ever?"

"Watch him," Buffy whispered to Xander. "I'm going to check on Willow, see if I can figure out what's going on." She walked over to Willow. "Will?" No response. "Anya, what's happened, do you know?"

"Someone is stopping her from completing the curse." Anya gestured helplessly. "Or some thing. Do you know who or what might not want the curse to be altered?"

"Other than Angelus, the only ones I can think of are the gypsies," Buffy said slowly. "But how would they know?" Willow suddenly breathed out a long, deep sigh; her body swayed. Her head drooped, then slowly lifted again.

"Buffy." The voice came from Willow's mouth, but it wasn't Willow's voice. It took Buffy a minute to place it. She gasped. "Miss Calendar?" The hairs on her arms lifted, and she shivered. Jenny Calendar had died a violent death at Angelus's hands.

"Yes. I don't have long. My uncle is the one who's stopping Willow. He hates Angel and would do anything to stop the curse from being changed. You" - she looked straight at Anya - "must continue the chant. Trying to keep both of you from finishing it will weaken him. When one is stopped, the other must go on. I will do what I can to lend strength to Willow. Do it, now!" She thrust the printout into Anya's hands, then Willow's eyes closed.

Anya looked helplessly at Buffy. "I have no power."

"Do it anyway," Buffy told her fiercely. "It's our only hope."

Anya found the part where Willow had stopped and began chanting. A minute later, still chanting, she threw a handful of herbs on the fire. Willow blinked. Anya chanted. Willow gasped and opened her eyes wide. She looked around her, obviously dazed. Anya faltered, resumed for a few more words, then stopped entirely, just as Willow had done earlier.

"What happened?" Willow said in bewilderment. Buffy grabbed the printout from Anya and gave it to Willow. She pointed to a line. "Here's where Anya left off. You read it from there."

"But - " Willow began. A bellow of rage drew her gaze over Buffy's shoulder to where Angelus lunged repeatedly against his chains. Willow's eyes widened in horror. "That's - "

"Yes," Buffy interrupted. "It's Angelus, and unless you keep going we'll never see Angel again!"

"Buffy!" Xander shouted.

"Give me your crosses," Buffy demanded. They handed them over and she ran over to Angelus. Keeping a wary on him she laid the crosses out on the floor in a semi-circle around him. It seemed to have an effect; he huddled against the wall, snarling helplessly.

Willow started chanting. Almost immediately her voice hesitated but she labored on, struggling to bring the words out. Sweat beaded on her forehead but she continued, managing several sentences before she was halted. Oz had followed the words on the printout, and started Anya at the proper spot.

And so it went, for long, tense minutes. Anya. Willow. Anya. Willow. Back and forth, from one to the other. "I feel like I'm at a tennis match," muttered Oz at one point. No one smiled.

Buffy checked on Angelus. Angel hadn't made another appearance, which filled her with dread. The vampire had been relatively quiet, though an occasional snarl and rattle of chains told her he was still testing their strength. All at once he groaned loudly and fell to his knees. "Buffy?" Angel's face looked up at her.

She stepped forward. "Angel? Are you all right?"

"It hurts," he whispered pitifully. "Make it stop. Please." He groaned again, his body twisting with pain. Buffy went up to him, ignoring Xander's warning "Buffy."

"It's okay, Xand," she told him. "I know what I'm doing." She knelt down by Angel, cupped his face in her hands, and kissed him. It took only a few seconds for her to feel his revulsion. Drawing back, she looked him in the eyes, then rose to her feet. "It's Angelus." Glaring, he lunged for her as she stepped out of reach.

Behind her, Willow started up again. Buffy spun around, wide-eyed. She could swear that she was hearing two voices coming from Willow's lips. One look at Oz and Anya told her they heard it too. Xander took a step forward. "What's going on?" he demanded.

"Miss Calendar," Buffy told him. It had to be Jenny Calendar, helping as she had promised she would. A wind came out of nowhere, shrieking through the room. The flame in the brazier flickered.

"Don't let the fire go out!" Anya shouted. She shielded it as best she could with her body, Oz rushing to help her. The flames, whipped wildly by the wind, grew low but didn't extinguish. Suddenly the Orb of Thessala came to life, glowing with blue fire that almost blinded them. The wind howled.

"So mote it be!" The duet of voices rang out. The Orb blazed up once more, then grew dark.

The wind ceased; utter silence surrounded them, and Willow collapsed in Oz's arms. "She's breathing. I think she just passed out," Oz told Buffy after a moment. "Go see to Angel."

She approached Angel cautiously. He was on his knees, slumped forward as far as the chains allowed, his face almost touching the floor. "Angel?"

There was no response; he appeared to be unconscious. Carefully she reached out and raised his head, breathing a sigh of relief as Angel's normal, handsome features were revealed. "Xander, get the keys, would you? They're on top of the dresser in the bedroom."

Xander didn't move. "Hold on, Buff. We have to make sure it's the right Angel before setting him loose. That face" - he nodded at Angel - "proves nothing. You know that."

"You're right," Buffy conceded after a minute. Angel - or Angelus - moaned. "But I know a foolproof test." She waited until his eyes fluttered open. "Angel?" She touched his cheek.

"Buffy?" His voice was faint. "Are you all right? Is it over?"

Her heart leaped. Angelus would never ask if she were all right. She leaned forward and kissed him. "I'm fine. How are you feeling?"

"I've been better," he admitted with the ghost of a smile. She kissed him again, tenderly, and felt his response. "I love you," he whispered after she ended the kiss.

Her tears spilled over. "I love you," she choked, and kissed him one more time. Wiping her eyes, she looked at Xander. "It's Angel."

"You're sure? You're betting all our lives on this true lovers' kiss, you know." Xander looked at her, hard, but she met his gaze. "I'm sure," she said steadily. "The one thing Angelus can't fake and can't handle is love. This is Angel."

After a second Xander nodded and walked away, returning a minute later with a small key ring in his hand. "Are these the ones?"

They were the right keys. Buffy exclaimed out loud at the condition of Angel's wrists: abraded and swollen and very tender to the touch. "Come on, let's get you to the bedroom and put something on those."

She helped him stand, but with his first step he flinched backward as if he'd run into a wall. "What? What's wrong?" She looked down at the floor. "Oh. Sorry; I forgot. Xander, would you - "

But Xander was already scooping up the crosses. With Angel leaning heavily on her, they made their way across the room. Willow had regained consciousness, and she and Oz were resting on the couch.

Angel stopped. "Are you okay?" he asked her. She nodded wearily. "Just tired," she told him. "But what about you? A lot more happened than we'd counted on. Are you okay?"

He managed to smile. "Just tired." He moved toward the bedroom.

"Angel!" Willow called out. He stopped again. "Did it work? The curse? Did it do what it was supposed to do?"

"I think so," he told her. "I hope so."

Willow's eyes glazed over, then re-focused. She sat up straight. "It worked, Angel. Your soul is safe now." At the first sound of her voice, Buffy stifled a gasp; she cast a worried look at Angel.

Angel stared. "Who are - " He broke off suddenly. "Jenny?" His voice was a whisper.

Willow rose and came toward him, moving with Jenny Calendar's balletic grace. "Yes," she told him. "Angel, I want you to know I bear you no ill-will for my death."

"I killed you," he said starkly. Buffy felt him trembling with emotion. Willow/Jenny shook her head. "It wasn't you, Angel. It was him. I know that - now you try to remember it, okay?"

Willow's body drooped then straightened. "I wish she'd stop doing that," the redhead complained. "It gives me a headache." She went back to the couch, and Oz. Angel stared for a moment, then gave in to Buffy's urging and went with her into the bedroom.

He was silent as she washed and bandaged his injured wrists; silent while she fetched him a glass of water from the kitchen; and silent as she pulled off his shoes and urged him to lie down on the bed. Sitting down beside him, she took one hand in both of hers and held it, chafing it gently.

"She forgave me," he finally said. Buffy shook her head. "No, she told you there was nothing to forgive you for. Angel, it wasn't you who killed her. It was the demon."

"I wish it was that simple," he told her soberly. "Sometimes I feel like he's a part of me."

"He's not." She bent over him fiercely. "He has nothing to do with who you are. You only share the same body, like - like someone with multiple personalities."

Angel couldn't help but laugh. "So I'm mentally ill, is that what you're saying?"

Buffy made an exasperated sound. "You know that's not what I meant." She pushed at him. "Scoot over." He scooted and she lay down beside him, her head resting in the hollow of his shoulder. One hand idly plucked at the fabric of his shirt. "Have you thought about the other thing Miss Calendar told us? That the new spell worked?"

"Yes."

She glanced at his face. "Do you believe her?"

He turned on his side to face her. "Yes, I do. I can feel the difference, inside. I feel ... lighter. Like I've lost fifty pounds."

Buffy raised her eyebrows. "I hope not. You're skinny enough as it is. Any more and the wind will blow you away, like what's-her-name. Mary Poppins."

"She had an umbrella," he reminded her, teasingly. He lowered his head.

"That's right," she whispered against his mouth. "She did." They kissed gently, then drew apart.

Buffy sighed. "You probably need to rest."

"Do I?" he asked innocently.

She looked at him hopefully. "Don't you?"

He kissed her again, then also sighed. "Unfortunately, yes, I do."

Buffy stroked his face. "I don't want to leave," she whispered. He didn't want her to leave either. "What about your mother?" he forced himself to ask. "Won't she be worried? It's pretty late."

"Yeah," she admitted. "Will has a cell phone. I guess I better call her, tell her I'm spending the night with Willow."

"Buffy." He stopped her as she sat up. "Your mother knows I'm back. I don't think she'll believe the Willow story."

Buffy stared. "She knows? How could she know? She wasn't at The Bronze tonight." She did a double-take. "Was she?"

Angel chuckled weakly, then yawned. "No. She knows because she's the one who persuaded me to come back." He told her about Joyce's visit to him in L.A., and she stared some more.

"Uh, Buffy?" It was Willow, hovering uncertainly outside the bedroom door. "We're leaving. Do you want a ride home?" Buffy walked over to her. "No, I'm spending the night here."

"Oh, okay." Willow beamed at her. "But your car is parked at my house, remember." Buffy shrugged. "So I'll walk over there in the morning and get it," she said, then added, "Will, there's something I need you to do for me, please. Will you call my mom?"

"Will she still be up?" Willow looked at her watch. "It's after midnight."

"She'll be up," Buffy assured her drily.

"Oh. Well, okay, sure. What do you want me to tell her?"

"Tell her that I'm with Angel and that everything's okay."

Willow gaped. "What?"

Buffy repeated her message. "Don't worry, Will. She won't freak."

"Okay, if you say so." Willow looked dubious. Buffy walked with her to the door, where the others were waiting. "Thanks, guys. I know Angel would want to thank you too, but - " She glanced back at the bedroom. "He's probably asleep already."

Her friends left and Buffy returned to Angel, making a bathroom stop on the way. As she'd expected, he was sound asleep. She pulled a blanket over him, then stripped down to her panties and got under the cover with him, stretching out against his long body. She found a comfortable spot for her head, and drifted off to sleep herself.

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