And he's being forced to help the Slayer.

What the bloody hell?

I don't think I could live without Angelus, especially now that Drusilla's dead. Darla's gone too, but I don't miss that little conniving bitch at all. My sire is ... still everything to me. My best friend, my mentor ...

My lover.

This otherworld Slayer has his complete attention. The look in his eyes earlier ... even when he was driving Drusilla mad, he didn't look like that. She's going to obsess him for centuries if he and the Master get their way.

But ...

They don't know anything about her. I do. The other me, Spike (as he called himself), and the others there told me about this Slayer. Buffy. What a name! Still, she's strong -- she'd have to be, to survive what she's been through. The Master wouldn't be so quick to push her onto Angelus if he knew what she was capable of. Of course, the bastard just wants to keep us distracted. Ever since the fire in Prague, Angelus and I have been taking out our rage over the loss of Darla and Drusilla by subjugating every clan we come across.

The power is nice, I have to admit.

The Master, he knows it's only a matter of time before Angelus is ready to challenge him for control. He thinks if Angelus and I are distracted by a new paramour then we won't go after him.

He's wrong.

He could've prevented that fire in Prague, but he didn't. Dru and Darla burned and he didn't lift a finger to help.

Bastard. He'll pay for that.

This Slayer ... she could be helpful. Angelus is too wrapped up in her to realize the potion will have to burn out of her system before he can turn her. How do I know? The Watcher in the other world, he found the same spell. And for some reason the thought of her having sex with Angelus *really* bothered all of them ...

Oh, well. Doesn't matter.

Fact is, she'll want to go home. Angelus won't want to let 'er. The Master won't want to let 'er go, either.

She's a pretty little thing ... And did I mention smart, witty, independent and quick on her feet? Deadly, too. The things she's capable of ... the things me an' Angelus are capable of ...

Put it all together ...

It's about to get very interesting around here.

He's me. But he's not me. But he could be me, if ...

And he was so bloody young. Still, innocent, in ways I'm not. Innocent is not a word I'd usually apply to myself, or any other demon, but it fits 'im. He's pissed off, but then I would be too if I was in 'is position.

Darla, that conniving little bitch, is dead. He's pleased. His Dru's dead. He was devastated.

Those are things I understand.

He and Angelus are still together, still lovers. He's never been on his own, never learned to live without his sire ...

It's a bittersweet lesson.

I don't know if I pity him ... or if I'm jealous.

But it really doesn't matter. He's gone and the Slayer isn't back yet. The Watcher, he's worried that the Master found a way to keep her there. On the other side of the looking glass. That's what it is, isn't it? A distorted, mirror image of our world?

Whatever.

Fuck, now I'm startin' to sound like 'er, too. But, we have to get her back. That other Slayer, Faith, she's still in a coma. And with Buffy gone ...

We're up shit creek without a paddle.

Angel dropped the phone onto the cradle, a look of intense pain and anger on his face. He growled.

Then he promptly put his hand through the wall.

"Repressed, much?" Cordelia asked.

Doyle looked askance at the vampire. "Are ye all right, now?"

"No," Angel said curtly. "Cordelia, get the stuff together. We're leaving. Now." With that, he turned and strode through the door.

They had to scramble to keep up.

"Angel, *where* are we going?" Cordelia asked, climbing in beside Doyle.

"Sunnydale."

The End