Part Five

Buffy stirred and woke in his arms, a gentle smile on her face before she remembered where she was, and who he was and was not. And who Arthur was as well. Who Riley was.

"Have I slept long?" she asked quietly.

"Not very," Lancelot replied, love and anguish competing equally in the depths of his dark eyes. Buffy pushed herself up into a half-sitting position.

"What I said was true, you know. I'm not Guinevere. Or I am but.not. I live in the future, and I don't know how I got here. Nimue sent me, but not the one here.the one in the future."

"You hurt yourself in the fall," Lancelot replied, taking her hands gently. "It is nothing more than that. You are still the other half of my soul."

"That's just it! You are and you are Angel, who is my soul in my time. You look like him, but.different," Buffy said softly, tracing the line of his face, so familiar and yet not.

Lancelot was worried about her, that much was obvious. And he didn't believe her.

"If you are not Guinevere, how did you know who all of us were? How did you know your way around the palace and what to do and say?" he reminded her gently. Buffy sighed, wanting so much to lose herself in his arms again, but knowing that even when she did so it wasn't enough. It only made her think of Angel, who she couldn't be with-and it brought back odd half-memories of him.

"I don't know how I knew your names. They just.came to me. But most things Nimue had to tell me. Just ask her, she'll tell you that it's true. I'm not Guinevere."

"Then this was nothing?" he asked in a whisper. Buffy's eyes filled with tears at the plea.

"This was everything," she said. "I haven't felt this way in so long. And I love Arthur, who is Riley in my time, and is probably the greatest guy I've ever met. But I love you too. I can't stop."

"I have tried too for so long," he whispered, echoes of Angel's voice whispering in her ear. I love you, I tried not to, but I can't stop.

"I know the feeling," she replied, before remembering that she was trying to convince him she didn't know him at all. She sighed and looked away. The fire was burning low. "You better go before anyone comes."

He nodded, understanding, and slipped out of the bed. She shivered at the loss of his body alongside hers, the warmth of his touch. Warm.he was warm.Human.

And for a moment, before sense and homesickness intruded, she didn't want to go back. He was human there.

**

"How could you just let her walk away?" Xander demanded.

"I told you, Xander, I didn't just let her walk away," Giles said with exaggerated patience. "She went around the corner, and when I followed her, she was gone."

Willow moved away from Buffy, who was still smiling sweetly. "She must be a witch. That's the only thing I can think of. Unless..." She glanced sideways at Anya.

Anya folded her arms. "What? I don't know her."

"Are you sure? 'Cause you haven't been a demon for a while, and it would be normal for you to forget," Willow said hopefully.

"She was a demon?" Doyle asked Cordelia. "What kind?"

Cordelia shrugged. "I don't know. Why don't you ask her? Maybe you guys have something in common - like facial spikes or something."

Doyle shot an appreciative glace at Anya. "She sure is a good lookin' woman. Wonder what she looks like as a demon."

Cordelia slapped his arm. Hearing his words, Anya gave him an ugly look. "I was a revenge demon, you moron. I took revenge on males who wrongly treated their women. I'm sure you've heard of me. I, however, have never heard of this witch woman that puts Slayers into comas. She's not a demon, I'm sure of it."

"For once, I have to agree with you," Giles said, rubbing his forehead. "This woman - she acted as if she knew Buffy. She called her 'the queen'."

"The queen of what?" Oz asked, speaking for the first time in a long while.

Giles sighed. "I don't know. But she is definitely responsible for Buffy's situation - s-she admitted as much, and said that Buffy would 'come back' when she had learned."

"Learned what?" Xander asked.

"How to knit an afghan. For god's sake, Xander, I don't know," Giles returned.

"So let's get her back," Cordelia said easily. "Willow, you're a witch - make a mind-to-mind phone call or whatever."

"Cordelia -" Willow began.

"No, she's right," Oz said slowly. Seeing Willow's look, he added, "Well, sort of right. About asking witch lady more questions, at least."

"Of course," Giles said. "She believes Buffy is some sort of nobility. If Buffy were in danger -"

"She'd come running," Xander laughed. "Good thinking, Cordy - I knew there was a brain somewhere beneath all that makeup."

As Cordelia fumed and prepared to make a scathing retort, Doyle looked at her and said, "He's just insulted you, love. Don't you have anythin' to say?"

*****

Buffy realized she had a slight headache as she finished eating her pastry. By the time the serving women came to help her dress, the headache had become painful, and she asked one of the women to get her a drought for it. When she finally appeared in the royal court, the headache had become a nearly blinding pain.

"My lady, are you well?" someone asked as slumped into her throne.

She glanced at the empty throne beside her, and said the first words that came to her mind. "When is Riley going to get out of class? He's always in class, and he's a senior, you know, so he should have a little more free time."

"Lady, who is Riley?" the minor lord asked.

Buffy shook her head. Did she just say Riley? She didn't know anyone named Riley. That sounded like a foreign name. Where was Angel? He could tell her if she knew anyone named Riley.

"Truly, my lord, I feel not well," she told him weakly. "Fetch Sir Angel for me. I require his assistance."

"Guinevere, what ails thee?"

That was Morgaine. Morgaine was her dearest friend, next to Nimue and Lance. "I feel really yucky, Will," she told the woman leaning over her. Odd, she didn't remember lying down.

"Fetch Lady Nimue and Master Merlin immediately," Morgaine cried.

Buffy nodded weakly. She finally understood that something was wrong. "Get Giles," she agreed softly. And then a blinding pain flooded her head and she could no longer see or hear anything.

**

"What is is?" Angel was demanding in a harsh voice-no, not Angel. Lancelot? Buffy didn't open her eyes, her thoughts slightly clearer than they had been, but not in premium shape. "What's wrong with her?"

"There's a trace of magic about her," Willow's voice said. But it wasn't Willow, was it? Maybe it was. Maybe she was home. Maybe.but no. Angel wouldn't be there. Angel had left her.

Who was Willow in this world again? Oh, Morgaine, right. Arthur's sister.

"More than.than a trace I'm afraid," Giles' voice corrected, sounding worried. Sounding like Giles. But it wasn't. It was Merlin, some great sorcerer from a thousand years ago.

Lancelot's pacing stilled for a moment. "Mordred?" he asked quietly, his voice full of death for whomever had done this to her, whomever had hurt her. Buffy knew that voice. She'd had it herself quite a few times. She knew if she opened her eyes, exactly how Lancelot would look too, his face, his expression.but she was thinking of Angel, and this was Lancelot. Whom she'd spent a perfect, amazing night with, and had been unable to separate him from Angel ever since.

"Possibl-" Merlin began, but another voice cut him off as the heavy door opened and closed.

"No, it is not," Nimue said. "I came as soon as I heard. What happened?"

"She complained of a headache, and then collapsed near the throne, saying all sorts of odd things, and calling everyone by names not their own," Morgaine replied. "Then she fainted."

"And the other night.we were speaking and she.she told me she wasn't herself. She claimed to be someone else, from the future," Lancelot put in, the worry in his voice increasing though Buffy knew the others would not be able to tell. To the observer he seemed calm. To her he seemed frantic.

But this wasn't Angel.

But he looked like Angel. He talked like Angel. He felt like Angel.

"She said you would corroborate her story," he said to Nimue. She sighed and Buffy tried very hard to hold still, to listen to what they would say.

"After her fall she seemed odd.she didn't know where things were, or how to act or dress. She didn't recognize me in my disguise. Then.she attacked me, and threatened me and said that she wasn't Guinevere and that I.myself in the future that is.had sent her back here somehow, and that I must send her back. At first I did not believe, but she was very convincing. She.knew things she could not have known otherwise. She claimed that we were all considered legends in her time. She knows what shall become of all of us."

"Did she tell you?" Merlin asked, his voice cold.

"No, she would not say."

"It is not to be told," he replied, his voice odd, not quite human, not quite his.

"Will she be all right?" Lancelot asked.

"I don't know," Morgaine replied. "I don't know what's wrong. If she is from another time.how did she know all of us?"

"She said we were like those she had known in her life, and that our names came to her when she saw us, but she doesn't remember anything else," Nimue replied.

"She told me that as well. That I was like.someone she had known," Lancelot said softly.

"Perhaps she is going mad," Morgaine suggested in a quiet, sad voice.

"Then we are all lost," Nimue whispered.

"Or all saved," Merlin replied.

She had gone crazy, for a minute. Or two. She just hadn't been able to sort out what was what. She didn't remember which one of them was which, or where she was, or what was going on and her head hurt so much.

It twinged again, just at the memory of the headache. The others had fallen silent for a moment.

"We should send Arthur a message," Morgaine suggested. Buffy took that as her cue to open her eyes and sit up.

"No need," she replied to the shocked room, "I'm feeling better now. Though I'd still be very grateful if you could send me home."

"We will discuss that later," Morgained said, "How do you feel?"

"A little confused still, but I've got it sorted out for the moment," Buffy replied. "I just.couldn't think. I felt like my head was going to explode, and everything got all jumbled up."

"The two worlds you mean?" Nimue asked. Buffy nodded in agreement.

"I didn't know which was which. Which was real and which wasn't."

"Who's to say both are not real?" Merlin asked.

"Well, which one is my world," Buffy amended. She looked up and caught Lancelot's eyes, his beautiful eyes full of relief and pain and worry, all of which he showed only to her, always to her. The rest of the world saw a knight of great stature who could best any man in the world. She saw Lancelot, the only man that could ever complete her.

Except Angel. Who wasn't a man. And didn't exist here. But was Angel the same as Lancelot? Was this all some weird dream her psyche had conjured up? For all she knew she was lying in some hospital bed right now, hooked up to a heart monitor, dreaming away.

"Gwen, whatever the truth is, you are not well. You must let us help heal you," Nimue said gently.

"It's Buffy," she reminded, just as gently. "And.I want to get better. But I don't think this is something you can fix that way. I'm not sick, I'm.torn. Between two worlds. I want to go home."

"But where is your home?" Lancelot asked, and looking at him, she couldn't find any words except with you and she knew those would not do at all.

**

They had to wait for night. The hours of the day stretched out, every minute somehow changed into a day, a month, a year. But they made use of the time wisely - researching, gathering materials, preparing to spring the trap.

And convincing Angel.

"I'm not doing it, Giles," Angel said flatly when Giles proposed the plan.

Giles watched the vampire pace restlessly around the room. Angel had returned to the mansion for the daylight hours; the sheet over the couch had been thrown back, telling tales as to what Angel had been doing before Giles appeared at his door. "A-Angel, the only way to make sure that the woman will show up is if Buffy's in true danger. Willow will be there, along will all of us. There's very little risk -"

"You're out of your mind," Angel snarled. "To deliberately break the curse -"

"Only for a moment," Giles said quickly. He spread his hands. "If she's not in real danger, the woman won't come."

Angel shook his head.

Giles was running out of options. The plan, hazardous though it was, was the only one they had. It would only work if Angel agreed to help - there was no way Angelus could be released with any degree of safety otherwise. He had to change tactics. "Dammit Angel, don't do this. Pretend for once that you care as much for her as she does for you. Buffy would do anything, anything at all to save your life."

It would have been impossible to say anything to make the vampire more angry. In one step he stood before Giles, his eyes blazing and a furious look on his face. "Don't you ever say I don't care for her. One hour doesn't go by that she doesn't cross my mind, that I don't wonder what I could have done differently to prevent this - and I don't just mean the current situation." He backed up a few steps, turned away and added, "I would do anything for her, Giles, you know that. But not this."

But in the end he gave up and gave in, because he truly meant what he said. He would do anything for Buffy - protect her, walk away from her, give up his soul for her. That was all there was to it, and when the group stood in the cramped hospital room making their final preparations, Giles regretted ever saying otherwise. But he too would do anything for the young woman lying silently on the bed.

Willow finished setting up the candles in the corner. "Okay, I guess we're ready. We'll have to be quiet; the nurses -"

"Are not going to be a problem."

Riley leaned in the doorway, hands in his pockets, a slight smile on his face. "I made sure they all have to be on other floors. Amazing what having friends can do for you."

"Riley," Xander greeted him nervously. "Glad you could make it. Guess you got that message after all."

"What message?" Cordelia sneered. "You said you didn't want GI Joe anywhere near here when Angelus gets out."

"Cordelia," Angel and Doyle chorused with disapproval.

"Yo guys, I got the - orb," Oz finished, appearing behind Riley. "Hi," he added calmly.

"Hello," Riley answered, moving out of the doorway. "You guys should have known better. You've been trying to cut me out at every step. I bet Buffy would be surprised."

"Riley, you need to leave," Giles said gently. The young man was loyal to Buffy without a doubt, but he was also part of a group dedicated to the extermination of vampires. When Angelus was released, he would at best report Angel's existence to his group if he didn't kill him outright - or try, at least. And Angelus would likely destroy him in an instant.

"I don't think so," Riley said easily. "You're about to do something very dangerous and you'll need help."

Willow looked to Oz; Cordelia looked to Doyle; Doyle glanced at Angel.

"How did you know we were going to break the curse?" Anya demanded. "I thought that was a secret."

Riley looked at her askance. "What curse? I just know that you're about to spring a trap for the woman that did this to Buffy."

The tension went out of the room in a flash. Everyone except Angel began to babble. Finally Cordelia latched onto Riley's arm and said, "You're right, Riley. We never should have tried to keep you in the dark. Come on, I'll explain everything to you."

Riley pulled out of her grasp. "I'd like to stay here, actually."

"Riley, man, you should go with her," Oz advised. "We can't do anything without Cordy anyway."

Riley shook his head. "Oz -"

"Seriously, man," Oz said calmly. "Promise."

"If I don't show you, you won't understand," Cordelia added. God, what did Buffy see in this too tall, stubborn guy anyway?

"Alright," Riley relented. "But let's be quick. The nurses won't stay away for long."

When the pair were gone, Oz stepped into the room and handed the orb to Willow.

"You told him, didn't you," Anya accused Xander.

Xander shook his head. "Yes Anya, I did -"

"Let's do this," Angel interrupted, hearing a drawn out fight coming.

"He's right," Giles agreed. "Mr. Doyle, if you'll please man the door..."

"I'll man Angel," Xander said, taking up a position a few steps away

"Yay, I get to wave the stinky stick," Anya complained.

Willow moved to stand beside the candles burning in the corner. Anya stood next to her and lighted the herb bundle while Oz stood on her other side with the copy of Ms. Calendar's translated curse. "Are you ready?" she asked Angel.

Angel turned to look at Buffy lying so silently on the bed. The heart monitor continued in its rhythm, attesting that Buffy knew nothing of what was happening around her. He slowly shook his head. "Yes."

Swallowing nervously, Willow closed her eyes and concentrated.

"You have ever been stubborn, Morgaine. You are much like her; perhaps that is why you are such dear friends."

Willow nearly dropped the orb in surprise. The woman Giles had described earlier that morning stood in the circle of candles not a foot away from her.

And somehow, without cause or reason, Willow knew her. "Nimue," she said softly.

Part Six

She dreamt that night and her dreams were as muddled as the waking world, maybe less. She woke crying and wondering if her dreams were the reality and everything else was just the phantom of memories.

"It's all right Gwen," he said from beside her bed, shrouded in the night but she knew him. The one who always came to her in the night. Buffy relaxed back into her bed and noticed that it didn't feel right and he'd called her by the wrong name anyway. Or was it the right name?

Did she have a name? Or was she a phantom too? A ghost, a memory, the lost wisp of spirit that was once a woman.

Her head hurt again.

"Angel," she whimpered, and he held her, but it wasn't him, because his face was smooth, his heart beat-but she had heard Angel's heart beating. She could hear it still. And who was this, if not Angel? It wasn't Arthur. It wasn't even Riley.It was.

"Shall I get Morgaine?" he asked. Morgaine? Who was Morgaine?

< You have ever been stubborn Morgaine, > a voice whispered in her ear-but not her ear, in her mind, or as if she was hearing it from a very long way off.

"Don't leave me," she cried, clinging to him, because whoever he was, he made her feel safe, made her head stop pounding a little.

"I shall never leave you my love," he promised, and it sounded as though he were in pain, as though he were weeping. As though it was the hardest thing in the world to say.

"Never leave me Lance," she breathed, and kissed him, because his mouth was so sweet the pain could almost be forgotten, she didn't care about the confusion anymore, just him, only him, forever and ever.

**

"Good even," the sorceress said, accepting her name. She looked around and smiled a little, sadly, "What a prestigious company 'tis gathered here. A thousand years has failed to find your like and you don't even know it. Where is the King then?"

"What king?" Xander demanded. "Tell us what you did to her!" Nimue looked over and met his eyes and her own softened.

"You are worried," she stated, "You need not be. You need no be mistrustful either, I am only here to help. And such drastic measures-" her eyes flickered to the orb "-were certainly uncalled for. All you need do was call me."

"Well you're here now, so wake Buffy up!" Willow exclaimed emphatically.

"I cannot," Nimue replied.

"C-cannot?" Giles asked.

"Not until she's ready to be woken. It would only make things harder were she to come back before.Much harder," Nimue said softly.

"So you will not," Angel stated.

"You could put it like that," Nimue replied calmly, a hint of steel in her tone. Angel looked close to murder.

"If Buffy's in danger-"

"She isn't," Nimue said swiftly, cutting him off. "I would never let harm come to her."

"What about others? Buffy is the Slayer. The longer she is absent the more will suffer from it," Giles reminded her.

"I know it, but there are others to hunt. Believe me, I will not let another be harmed from this. Too many have died and suffered already. All needlessly.if they would only see.This time they will see."

"Who?" Willow demanded.

"The three that cannot see," she said softly, turning to regard Angel, and then Buffy.

"Hey, you guys were-" Riley began, bursting into the room. He stopped when he saw Nimue. Her eyes rested on him and some sort of terrible understanding bloomed in those watching. They didn't know really what was happening, but a kind of gut feeling registered that this was something more than an errant sorceress with a vendetta against the Slayer. This was something much deeper.

"Good even my lord," Nimue said.

"You-you did this to Buffy!" he exclaimed.

"No," Nimue replied, looking from him to Angel and back again. "You did it to each other."

And then she was gone again.

**

Oz and Willow went back to the dorms. Doyle and Cordelia headed back to their hotel room. Anya and Xander returned to his "apartment". Angel stayed with Buffy, refusing to leave her, and what Riley did no one was certain. But Giles went home alone and heavily depressed, intending to do more research and perhaps even a bit of praying - that seemed to be all there was left to do

The moment he opened his door he knew someone was already inside. It was still night, and darkness filled the room with shadows. He couldn't see anyone, but he knew... Slowly he stepped inside and shut the door behind him. He stood completely still and scanned the shadows, but could see nothing.

"Enough of this," he said finally. "Whoever you are, show yourself."

A lamp flicked on. His eyes immediately turned towards it, but no one was there.

"I could never hide from you," an amused voice said softly. "That was one of the only things you would never teach me. There are a few things I yet do not know."

She stood beside the window. Moonlight spilled through the glass and fell kindly on her dark hair and fair skin. Giles wondered briefly how he could have missed not seeing her.

"Nimue," he said, his voice cold. "You're playing a game of some sort with all of us, aren't you? Not just Buffy, but all of us."

"A game," Nimue echoed, and smiled sadly, bitterly out the window. "I wish that were so. Then I could call it finished and end it all." She turned to look at him, and he could have sworn there were tears in her eyes. "But it's never over, Rupert. Never. The agony lasts for year upon year, and when things seem to be drawing together, at the last moment they again fall apart. Everything falls apart, time after time. It is never done."

Something pulled at the edge of Giles' mind, an old, half forgotten something that he wasn't quite certain he really even knew. "I know you," he said slowly.

She turned her head from him. "You did once. Long and long ago."

The something in his mind was beginning to dimly take shape. "I-you-Buffy..."

Nimue nodded. "Yes. It's returning to you, isn't it? I don't expect you to forgive me. What I did was- is- unforgivable. I know that. I've always known that. But Buffy will survive this, I swear by the Lady. This last time, this final time - trust me. Do not interfere. Please."

Giles looked at her and she returned his gaze. Eyes locked, little bits of memories teased the edge of his mind, just out of reach, and he saw them reflected in her eyes. Gardens and laughter and moonlight and magic and a ring of towering stones where together they watched the day be born...

He shook his head, breaking the spell. "No," he began.

But she was gone, leaving behind nothing but the empty moonlight.

The phone was ringing. How long it had been ringing he wasn't sure. In a daze he went to it. "Hello?"

"Giles, where have you been?" Cordelia's voice demanded from the other end of the line.

"What do you mean, Cordelia?" he asked, slipping off his glasses to rub at his forehead. "I've been here for all of five minutes...."

"Whatever," Cordy sighed. "It's ten thirty in the morning. We've been trying to call you for an hour. Xander and his demon girl are out looking for you."

"Whatever for?" Giles asked. He glanced at a clock and found that it was indeed close to ten thirty. What was coming in through his window was sunlight, not moonlight.

Cordelia's voice dropped. "It's Buffy. She's not doing well." She paused. "The - the doctor says you better come. Soon." Again a pause, and this time her voice was noticeably rougher. "Real soon, Giles."

*****

A week went by, and she only had a few headaches. They came at night when she lay in bed. Lance would hold her until they passed, and she would make him promise not to tell Nimue or Merlin. And Lance would promise and the night would pass, and in the day things were wonderful.

The weather had taken a turn for the better. It ceased to rain for once; the sun came out and the puddles dried up. She and Lance spent the hours in the gardens or out riding horses through the fields. Everywhere they traveled people smiled and blessed them and offered them flowers.

And Buffy, except for a few brief hours during the night, began to believe that she was truly the queen of an entire realm and the woman loved by the most courageous knight in the kingdom.

"I love it here," she sighed, leaning back into Lance's strong arms. It was afternoon and they were seated in the rose gardens. The sun shone down peacefully on them as they watched water trickle down the stone fountain. Lancelot was braiding a crown of roses for her head to match the bracelet and belt at her hips and wrist.

"So do I," he said, setting the crown on her head. He moved a strand of hair out of her face and kissed her.

The crown slipped to the side over her eye. She laughed and moved it, then stood and pulled Lance to his feet. "I love you," she added, wrapping her arms around his neck.

He settled his arms around her waist. "Then I suppose I should love you too," he teased, and she laughed again.

"That would be a wise move."

He caught her close and spun her in little circles until she was out of breath and begged him to stop. "Don't let go," she told him, knowing she couldn't stand upright if he did.

"I'll never let you go," he returned with a smile.

Something about those words pulled back an old memory. It was a sad memory, a heartbreaking one, and it swept away her light mood. She looked up at him with tears suddenly in her eyes.

"Don't let me go back, Lance," she said softly. "I don't want to go back. Things aren't the same there."

"Go back where?" he asked, confused. "Where would you go?"

"You know," she said, the tears starting to fall. "Back there, to that other life. You don't love me there. You never hold me, never even touch my hand. You won't let me be with you."

"Gwen, calm down," he said, concern flooding his voice. He loosened his arms from about her and stepped back. "Be easy."

"No!" she cried, and made a desperate grab for his hands. "Please, Lance, don't let them send me back. I love you, Lance. I love you there, and you don't love me. There's no place for us there." She was crying roughly now, tears pouring down her face and a lump in her throat.

"Nimue," Lance said quietly, fear in his eyes. Louder he said, "Nimue," then finally fell to shouting the name with a desperation close to Buffy's own.

When the young sorceress appeared a few moments later with Merlin at her side, they found the queen lying absolutely still in the arms of the first knight, and he was weeping over her.

**

"Her brain waves are fluctuating," the doctor explained. "As if she were in some kind of distress, but we cannot find anything. Physically, she's fine."

"Physically," Riley repeated, his eyes fixed on Buffy, looking as if he hadn't slept all night.

"Dr. Corey?" a nurse asked, looking in, "We need you in Trauma 2."

"All right, I'm coming," the doctor replied. She turned to Giles. "I'll be back later, I'm sorry I don't have more answers for you."

"O-of course. It's not your fault," he replied absently. She nodded and turned, leaving the room.

"What did Nimue do to her?" Willow asked softly, leaning forward and stroking her friend's hair back.

"I-I'm not sure it was her after all," Giles said, frowning slightly.

"You don't believe her mumbo-jumbo?" Xander demanded.

"No, o-of course no-But there is something deeper here than we know," Giles said, taking off his glasses and rubbing at his eyes, trying to rid himself of this odd headachy feeling.

The beeping of the heart monitor stopped for a second and then beeped an irregular rhythm. On the bed, Buffy caught her breath in very quickly, her face tensed. Willow's eyes filled with tears and Oz put his arms around her.

"There has to be something we can do," Angel said. "We can't let anything happen to her." He looked up briefly and met Riley's eyes. In one thing, at least, they were agreed.

**

"We have to send her back."

Nimue looked up sharply, knowing how hard that was for Lancelot to say, to even think. He'd found some happiness since Buffy-if she truly was from another time-had come, even coupled with guilt and pain as it had been.

"I don't know how," she replied truthfully. There was no change of his expression, though she thought his eyes brightened a little, and darkened too. Why couldn't this just be simple? Why did everything had to hurt as much as it helped?

"I think I may," Merlin said from beside the window. Nimue looked over at her lover, her love, and wondered whether that was a good thing or not.

"How?" Lancelot demanded, his voice harsh.

"She said she was sent back by you, Nimue, from your future self. It is possible to call to oneself through time, to any time, and summon them. If you call her, she will come."

"And what good will that do?" Morgaine asked. "She is not well, will it help to 'send her back'. How do we know this isn't all a delusion planted by Mordred? Perhaps he seeks to rend us apart."

"We will not be rended," Nimue replied calmly. She turned to look at Merlin again. "What is the price of this spell?"

And he told her. And she was afraid again.

**

"What do I have to do?" Buffy asked. She was sitting up in bed, feeling very clear headed again, listening to the newly formed plan.

"You must provide the link to the future," Nimue replied. "I do not know your time, therefore you must link me to it. While I perform the spell you'll have to focus on your home, your time and me, as you have seen me in the future."

"Do you think it will work?" Buffy asked, not quite sure whether she wanted it to or not. She wanted to go home, she really did. She missed her friends and her mother and her life.not to mention indoor plumbing. But here she was a queen, and she had Lancelot, whom she loved the way she loved Angel, without the spectre of a curse, or the fact they were supposed to be mortal enemies.

"I don't know. I believe the spell will work to summon myself here, but whether she will be able to take you to-to the future none of us can foresee," Nimue said softly.

"She sent me back here," Buffy said firmly. "If anyone can send me back, it's her-you, I mean."

"I understand. We shall see."

"It is late," Morgaine said. "The que-Buffy needs rest."

"I feel fine," Buffy pointed out, but she knew that it probably wouldn't stay that way for long.

"We must try and keep you so," Morgaine said mock-sternly, reminding Buffy even more of Willow for a moment. She missed her best friend. She missed Xander, who wasn't in this world (that she could see anyway) and she missed Oz. She missed Riley, who made her feel safe and loved, even if he didn't set her senses on fire.

But there was Lancelot. And nothing was ever easy.

"When will we do the spell?" she asked.

"In three days," Nimue said. "It will be the full moon, and the Lady's power-and mine-shall be at it's height."

"We must prepare," Merlin said. "Come Nimue." The sorceress nodded and bid them good bye, leaving the room with her lover. It was so odd thinking of the young woman in love with this Giles-like figure, but it was also obvious to anyone looking. And that the love was returned-that was even more obvious.

Buffy was very glad, suddenly, that she would be going home. She didn't want to stay and see how all of them would hurt each other.

**

She found him leaning on the same rampart where she had watched Arthur ride away. He was frowning darkly, his brows drawn together and the corners of his lips turned down; his fists were clenched harshly around the top of the wall.

He didn't hear her approach. She stood off to the side in the shadow of a turret and looked him. He looked a lot like Angel - but then, she had always known that. And he acted a lot like Angel - but in that way he was a little more different. Angel had lived five, six times as long as Lancelot had, and that experience influenced his behavior; Lancelot had never lost his soul, never known what it was to watch as his body commit atrocious acts while his mind was locked away from its control. But then, Angel had never known what it was to serve a king and love his wife; surely that was its own form of torture. There were far more similarities between the two men than there were differences.

She looked at his eyes, dark and full of emotion, and at his hands, strong and calloused and darkly tanned. She would not see him stand in the sun after she returned - ha, she would be likely to see him at all. She would have Riley and her nice Slayer life, complete with friends she loved and a college career she enjoyed, but no Angel. She felt more torn now than she had during any of the confusion spells.

"It's too early to start weeping now, Gwen," Lancelot said without glancing at her. "You still have three days left."

So he had seen her. She didn't realize until he spoke that she was indeed crying. Not massive tears that streamed down her face in great rivers, but little solitary tears that appeared only long enough to slip down her cheeks and disappear to the place where all helpless tears go. Her voice still worked fine.

"I'm not weeping," she said brightly, moving forward to stand beside him. "The sun is in my eyes."

"We're standing in shadows," he returned gently, turning to face her.

She smiled up at him. "You've got that right."

He nodded ruefully. "Aye. But the sun will not set for three days."

"And even then you'll still have Gwen, the woman you love," she said, determined to not break down again.

"You're Gwen," he said, framing her face with his hands.

"Buffy," she corrected.

"One and the same," he argued, but he too was smiling. "In your time, I am there, I simply have a different name."

She couldn't argue with him. Time was too short for arguing. Instead she just smiled and said, "Three days. Let's do something smart with them."

He leaned his forehead against hers. "Quince pastries?"

She thought of the fruit filled pies with sweet honey on top. "You know it," she laughed, and so did he.

**

They stood at the corners of the pentacle; Nimue, Merlin and Morgaine forming the main triangle and Buffy between Nimue and Morgaine. The fifth point of the star was a priestess of Avalon, Tirion, who had been visiting Morgaine. Nimue looked over at Buffy with concerned eyes. The queen had dark circles beneath her eyes and seemed nervous and distraught. Nimue just thanked Dana that Buffy wasn't having one of her fits again. They needed her for the spell to have any chance at succeeding. Lancelot stood just behind her, his hands on her shoulders, not caring whether they gave themselves away to all. Those in the room knew it anyway.

"Ready?" Nimue asked, the question for all, but mostly for Buffy. Merlin nodded once, Morgaine agreed and Tirion bowed her head slightly in acknowledgement. All eyes turned to Buffy. She took a deep breath and nodded. Lancelot released her and stepped backwards.

Nimue cast the circle, her mind not on her words of summoning but on what she must do next.what the price of this spell would be. All magic had it's price. Everything you sent out came back threefold. And this was a powerful magic, with a very personal price.

When the circle was cast Nimue turned to Buffy. "Open your mind. Concentrate on me as you know me in the future,"she instructed. Buffy nodded and closed her eyes, swallowing hard. Nimue turned back to the center of the circle and closed hers as well, beginnning the incantation, feeling the power radiating to her from three points of the star, and a memory from the fourth. She siezed the memory as she spoke, fastening on it, absorbing it into herself. A woman, small and slender, with pure black hair and blue eyes, old in an unlined face, wise and tragic, who spoke of what had been.

Nimue opened her eyes as she spoke the last words. "So mote it be," she whispered, and looked upon herself.

Old, old eyes, wise with the wisdom that comes from grief and betrayal met young ones, bright with love and hope for the future.

Time stood still and in a moment, or a thousand, the second pair of eyes was suddenly as the first.

Nimue staggered under the weight of the future. This was the price she must pay. To know her own fate and have no way to change it. To know that someday she must betray her lover, to know that she would watch her friends die, helpless to save them, and wander the earth for a millenium and half again the same, searching for those she had lost.

"Why did you do this to us?" the older Nimue asked quietly from the center of the circle, knowing what she had just done to her younger self.

"It had to be done," the younger said, helpless tears filling her old, tragic eyes. "As everything else has to be done."

The future Nimue reached out a hand to her younger self and their fingertips touched for a moment. And then Nimue looked over at Buffy.

"It is for you that she has done this thing?" she asked.

"What has she done?" Buffy asked, not understanding.

"It is of no matter," the younger Nimue said quickly. "We called you because the queen-because Buffy-is ill."

"Whatever you have done, you must undo it," Morgaine said. "She worsens every day."

"What is wrong?" Nimue asked, her eyes upon Buffy's face that she knew wasn't really hers. The nose was wrong.

"I-I don't know who I am, or where or when," Buffy said. "Sometimes I think I'm me, but then, I think maybe I am Guinevere, maybe I'm going insane. And then.and then sometimes I just don't know. I feel like my head's going to explode and everything gets so muddled. I don't remember what I remember."

"Is this true?" the older Nimue asked, betraying a worried look.

"Aye," Merlin replied. Nimue turned slowly to see him. Their eyes met and Nimue's twisted with sorrow.

"I am sorry love," she whispered softly, before turning back to Buffy. "I do not think it has been long enough, but it seems I must take you back anyway." Buffy let out a breath.

"When?" she asked.

"Now," Nimue replied. She looked at her younger self. "You cannot hold this much longer?"

"No," the younger Nimue agreed, "It is difficult." The elder nodded and turned back to Buffy.

"Say your good byes," she said gently. "We must go now."

**

Buffy blinked at the words, her hand going to her mouth. "No," she said softly, "It's not enough time."

"I am sorry, but it must be so," Nimue replied. Buffy blinked back tears and turned to look at Lancelot, who was trying his best to look stoic.

"You will not forget me?" he asked quietly. Buffy held back a sob.

"Never! And me? When you have your queen back, will you remember me?"

"You are my soul, no matter who you are, or when," he whispered, pulling her into his arms despite the fact she was still within the cast circle. A jolt of power ran through them both but he didn't let her go. She clung to him, knowing that soon she would be back in Sunnydale and Angel would not have changed. Angel would not know. Angel would not hold her like this.

"I love you," she cried, pulling his mouth down for one last sweet kiss. She tasted the salt of his quiet tears, and her own in the sweetness of his mouth, and clung to him even as she looked over her shoulder at Nimue.

"Come my lady," the sorceress whispered, holding out a hand to her. Buffy felt a sob rip through her and buried her face in his chest for just one moment, fixing the memory in her mind of how it felt to be with him, to hear his heart beat. She had heard his heart beat. And then, before she could stop herself, she pulled away from him, fled into the center of the pentagram and siezed Nimue's hands. But her eyes were all for Lancelot and she hardly heard Nimue say, "Send us home."

Part Seven

It was nightime now. In the hospital room Angel sat beside Buffy; the lamp beside her bed was on because if he'd turned it out the nurses would have been angry. Her heart monitor was continuing its steady rhythm, and after its fluctuations that morning Angel found the beeping to be one of the most beautiful sounds he had ever heard.

He sighed and laid his head on the bed beside her hand. What would he do if the blessed sound suddenly went dead? Would he run screaming into the hallway, shouting for a nurse, a doctor, a miracle? Or would he simply sit frozen to the chair, unable to move, until the daylight slipped in through the window and he was able to be with her again?

It's not enough time....

The words came to him in a whisper. He jerked his head up and looked around the room, but no one was there.

The heart monitor's stead beeping suddenly changed to a screeching whine.

He cried out her name and quickly turned his eyes back to her.

Her eyes were open and she was smiling up at him, a tiny, sweet little smile that he had seen only once or twice before when he had been lucky enough to see her awaken from sleep. Vaguely he noticed that the heart monitor was steadily beeping again.

She reached up and gently touched his cheek. "I remember," she said softly. "I told you I'd never forget."

Angel dropped to his knees beside her bed and did that which he had refused to do since he had first received the call from Willow that she was in the hospital. He wept.

****

"I tell you, I'm not staying here one more hour," Buffy protested, pulling on a pair of socks Anja had brought her. "I feel fine, the doctors say I'm fine, and besides that, I'm stronger than you and you can't make me stay."

"There's an argument based on logic," Cordelia said sarcastically. Doyle laid a hand on her shoulder and gave her a look.

"But, Buffy, you've been unconscious for days," Willow objected. "You can't overdo it now - you could have a relapse!"

Buffy shook her head and got to her feet. "Not gonna happen. Now where are my shoes?" She began to scan the floor, carefully avoiding the many eyes watching her.

"How can you be so sure?" Xander asked, picking up the shoes she had been wearing the night of the attack and handing them to her.

"I just am," she said vaguely. "Thanks," she added, accepting the shoes.

"And you say you don't remember anything at all about the attack or what went on while you were unconscious?" Giles asked for what seemed like the one hundredth time.

Buffy knew he kept asking her the same question because he suspicioned she remembered more than she let on. Which was true - she remembered quite a bit. Everything, in fact - from the sunlight and rose gardens and long dresses to the sweet smiles and strong arms and steady heartbeat of the bravest knight in the world, the man who had loved her and whom she had loved. Still loved.

Angel stood in the far shadows of the room now, and when she looked at him with all the memories of two lifetimes in her eyes he simply glanced away.

"No," she said dully. "I don't remember anything except that there wasn't enough time."

"What does that mean?" Cordelia asked. "Oh god, are you having one of those prophesy visions or something?"

"Down Cordy," Xander said. "She just means that there wasn't enough time to get away from that woman before she attacked, right Buff?"

"Right," Buffy said with false brightness. "It's so good to be understood."

If anyone caught the bitterness in her voice, it was only Willow, and when the red haired witch glanced at her silent boyfriend to see if he had noticed it, he didn't seem concerned at all, and so she let it go.

And Buffy suddenly felt more out of place in this life than she had in the one where women wore outrageously long dresses and her hair had been auburn instead of blonde.

*****

The gang was going over to Giles house for an early morning raid on his refrigerator before Angel, Doyle and Cordelia left for L.A. Angel had wanted to leave right away, claiming that Kate still needed his help on a serial murder case she was working on, but Cordelia had flatly refused to leave before she had a shower, so they weren't leaving for a few hours.

Buffy heard Angel say he wanted to leave right away, and it broke her heart all over again. She wanted to throw herself into his arms and scream that she remembered everything, everything, from kisses in the sunshine to rides through empty meadows to waking up beside him in the night, and what did it matter that they were all the memories from that other life... But he probably wouldn't have listened anyway, so what was the point? Nothing mattered anymore. She wasn't even going to cry this time; she was just going to sneak into the ladies' room for a moment and run some cold water over her burning eyes.

"This is your fault, Nimue," she muttered as she switched off the faucet. "I was fine until you came along..."

A nurse had been washing her hands at the sink beside Buffy. Hearing the Slayer's words, she reached for a papertowel and said, "You know that is not true, lady."

Buffy turned, not at all surprised that the sorceress was beside her. "Do me the honor of at least using your true form, Nimue. You've put me through too much to start playing the mysterious woman now."

The nurse's form shimmered for an instant, then reformed into the shape that was true. The sorceresses' crystal eyes held a deep sadness, but she smiled softly. "Peace, my friend. I sent you back for your own good."

"Oh yeah, witness me in my goodness," Buffy said bitterly. "Angel's leaving, Nimue. I get to say goodbye all over again. But that's okay because I have not one but *two* lifetimes worth of memories to keep me company. On all those lonely nights I'll be facing I can just look back on the times when I was loved and comforted by the man who won't even stay in the same city with me now. Doesn't that sound wonderful? Don't I look happy? Would you like me to say thank you?" She had broken her promise to herself and was crying heavily now.

Nimue's hands curled into fists, but she made no move to touch the Slayer. "Gwen - Buffy - I had to. You do not understand. Please forgive me - and listen to me one last time. Follow your heart. Heed what it tells you, for it is your truest guide in this life. In every life." She took a step towards Buffy, who immediately backed up a step. "Please, lady. For all the evenings we walked in the setting sun, for all the nights we sat and talked of our lovers, for all the times we stood together in court and mocked the lords and ladies in their silly fashions - for the friendship we once shared, lady, listen to me now. Trust your heart."

Buffy roughly wiped away her tears. "You're one to talk, Nimue - look at how you followed your heart. In another life we were friends - but in another life I had the other half of my soul, too. That was then, this is now. Time to move on." She turned to storm out the bathroom door, then paused at the last moment and added without looking at the silent sorceress, "I'm sorry." She did not explain for what; she wasn't even sure that she knew herself.

Then she walked away from Nimue and Lancelot and Arthur and Morgaine and every other memory that was from the other life. She had to - to do otherwise would have driven her insane.

Or so she told herself.

**

Of all the times Buffy had missed school, this was the first she'd had a valid life-threatening injury to be excused for.not that it had been life-threatening.she wasn't sure whether it had been threatening at all. But the doctors said she was in a coma, and that was enough for her teachers.

Which meant she was excused. It said nothing about having to catch up.

There was a knock on her door and Buffy looked up, thankful for the excuse to take a break from the masses of schoolwork she had to do. "Come in," she called. The door opened and Angel walked in, looking hesitant. Buffy's face closed immediately, hiding the secrets of her memories.

"Angel," she said softly.

"Buffy." He looked at the papers and books spread out across her bed. "What's all this?"

"Make up work. Willow's coming soon to help me with it, but she's out with Oz right now."

"Oh. Right.How are you?" Angel asked, looking everywhere but her. Buffy cast her eyes down at the books again.

"How am I?" she repeated quietly, wondering if she even knew. "I'm.fine. I feel fine."

"Are you sure?" Angel asked. Buffy nodded quickly, not looking up to meet his eyes. She wasn't sure she could do that-look straight at him and tell him she was completely all right.

"What's up?" Buffy asked finally, breaking the silence.

"I'm.I'm going back to L.A. tonight. I have.work to do. I don't want to wear out my welcom-"

"Angel, you're always welcome," Buffy interrupted, trying to hide the fear and pain in her voice. He was really leaving again, really going back.

This was not that world. He was not the same man. He wasn't even a man here.

"Thank you.but I need to be getting back." Back, he said. Not home. Where was Angel's home? Did he even have one?

"I know," Buffy whispered, "I just-" She broke off suddenly and looked up to meet his eyes. Her own had, against all her efforts, filled with tears. She brushed a piece of blond hair back, blinking her eyes futilely, and watched him. "Don't leave me again Angel," she pleaded in a small, quiet voice.

His eyes were infinitely sorry, infinitely sorrowful. "I am sorry Buffy," he whispered. "I should not have come, but I had to.to be near."

"I'm glad you came," she said truthfully, though maybe she shouldn't be. Maybe it would have been easier had she woken and seen Riley sitting by her bed.

Maybe not.

"Pretend I did not," he advised. "Pretend I was never here. Tell yourself it was all a dream." Tears spilled out of her eyes finally, down her cheeks and she made no move to wipe them away.

"It was a dream," she told him, her voice shaking despite herself.

He wanted to go to her, to gather her in his arms and soothe the hurts he did not understand. And she wanted to run to him, to bury her head in his chest as she had done so little time ago.except it wasn't him. It wasn't. But her heart cried out that it was, her sould yearned for him just the same.and he was leaving.

"Just go," she whispered. "Before it gets any harder."

"It can't get harder," Angel replied, his voice raw for once. She looked up and saw it in his face as well, the emotion he never let show through.

In the other life, he had shown emotion. Not much, but some. He had, after all, been human.

Stop, she told herself. You could not have that life. You cannot. It is better this way. But as she opened Angel's mouth to tell him it could always get harder, as she watched the understanding in his eyes, watched him turn away and walk out the door, away from her again, it was very, very hard to believe.

**

Riley had sounded surprised to hear her voice, but had buzzed her up immediately. Buffy opened the door, unsure still of exactly what she was doing at his apartment, what she was going to do, and walked up the stairs slowly. He was waiting for her again, leaning against the doorframe, his eyes hopeful. They lit when they saw her and she knew what he was thinking: Buffy was coming back to him. Everything was going to be all right again, like it had been before.

After all, nothing had changed, right?

Except it had.

Buffy didn't run up the rest of the stairs this time. She walked slowly, her eyes locked on his, until she was on a level plane with him.

"Can we talk?" she asked, avoiding him as he reached out to pull her closer.

"Of course," Riley replied, frowning slightly at her tone and the evasion. He stepped back from the door and Buffy walked past him, inside the apartment. It was a nice place. A bachelor's place certainly, but warm and human and lived in. Buffy turned back to look at him as he closed the door. "What is it? Is something wrong?"

"I." She stopped, unsure how to say what she needed to. She didn't want to hurt him. She didn't even want to say this, but she didn't have a choice either. "I can't do this Riley."

"Do what?" he asked. Buffy gestured vaguely with one hand.

"This. Have a relationship. Be a couple.not with you, or with anyone."

"You're breaking up with me?" he asked, confused and hurt. Buffy hated herself in that moment, because he didn't deserve to be hurt. But then again, none of them deserved it.

"I.I don't want to," Buffy said truthfully, looking up to meet his eyes.

"Then why should you?" Riley demanded quietly, taking a step closer. Buffy took a step back.

"I need time Riley. To.to figure things out. To figure out who I am and what I want and.what I need."

"And you can't do that with me?" he asked softly. Buffy shook her head, wishing to God that she could.

"I love you Riley," she told him truthfully. "I want to be with you, to just let myself be happy with you."

"And you can. Nothing's changed Buffy.nothing's keeping us apart," Riley pointed out.

"But it is," she whispered. "It's different.So, I need to be by myself for a while."

"How long?"

"I don't know. Maybe just a few days.maybe a few months.I know I can't ask you to wait. I won't."

"I will anyway," he said with a slight smile. Buffy smiled despite herself. What had she done to deserve this kind of affection? With Angel, she knew that neither of them could help it, that it was fate or the meeting of souls or something.but Riley was so good. Why would he love her?

"Thank you, for that," she said softly, then met his eyes again, her expression becoming serious. "I can't promise I'll ever be ready for a relationship though. Maybe not in years even."

"I think I understand," Riley said, moving forward to take her hands. "I won't pressure you into anything Buffy.but I'm not just going to give you up either. I love you."

"I know," Buffy whispered. "I just.like I said, I need to be alone. No boyfriend, no unofficial-boyfriend. You can wait, but you'll be waiting by yourself."

Riley nodded. "Will you tell me why?" he asked.

"I don't think I can," Buffy replied. "I don't think I know. I'm sorry."

"So am I. Can I have one last kiss?" he asked softly. Buffy looked up into his eyes and saw only that he wasn't Angel, or Lancelot. Saw Riley, and the echoes of Arthur, who had been her husband when she had been Guinevere.

"I have to go," Buffy said, tears filling her eyes, and fled because whatever happiness came from the warmth of Riley's humanity, there was still so much more in the memory of Angel's.

Epilogue

It is night again. It is always night.

I am standing in the shadows of a large oak tree, and she does not see me as she passes by. I watched her through the open window of the king's apartment, and I can still see Arthur now - he has thrown himself into a chair and buried his face in his hands. She has broken his heart, or so he thinks. He has no way of knowing that in another time, another place, she did indeed break his heart, and it was a wound from which he never recovered. This time she has not mortally wounded him; she has fulfilled her destiny, and all the heartache he suffers now would be nothing compared to what he would feel later.

The same is not true for her. The memories she keeps of the days with her beloved are taking their toll, and in all truth I confess that I did not believe things would meet this end. That she would break with Arthur, yes, I knew, and yes, I had planned, but not so with the knight. Lancelot - Angel - was never to have parted from her again. She was to have fought harder to keep him. I did not calculate that, upon her return, she would again let him slip from her grasp.

Where did I error? Was it my youth's folly to demand she be sent back so soon? Yet what else could I have done? She was going mad.

I watch as the queen - Buffy - walks quickly down the street and into the darkness. She is alone and lonely, and keeps more secrets than anyone her age ever should, and I realize that she may yet continue to descend into madness.

Lady, where did I fail?

"She'll be alright," a voice says behind me.

I know without turning that it is his voice. A part of me cries out to turn and rush into his arms, knowing that he would welcome me there even if he knew not why; and yet another part of me knows that I do not deserve any comfort, and I am a fool after all these years to continue wishing for that which cannot be. Again I failed to calculate all that was involved when I created this plan - years upon years of concise figuring, and I forgot to predict that I would fall in love with him all over again the instant I heard his voice or set eyes on his face.

Lady, I know where I failed.

Slowly I turn to face him, my half-smiling mask in place. "Yes," I answer him calmly, as if I truly believe it. "All will be well."

He looks at me skeptically, knowing somehow that I am telling less that I know. "You'll be leaving now, I suppose?"

I nod regally, in just the same manner that my younger self taught Buffy how to do. "My work here is finished."

"If I asked you what good whatever you did accomplished, I doubt that you would tell me," he says, smiling ruefully. "So instead I'm going to ask you something else. The other night, when you were in my home, I felt like I knew you. Have we ever met before?"

And now my smile has frozen on my face and I cannot remove it. How should I answer that question?

It is too much. The queen is unhappy, Arthur is unhappy, Angel is most certainly unhappy - and I too am unhappy. I have only partially succeeded in my quest, and this is not that part.

"Long and long ago," I answer honestly, my voice for once betraying me. Before he can ask me more that I would surely answer, I turn from him to the darkness. "Fair evening, Rupert Giles," I say softly, and as I blend into the shadows before his questioning eyes I whisper, "Fair well, my love."

Dear Lady, I forgot to count the consequence of love.

The agony of its loss.

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