Chapter Sixteen

They'd been going through volume after dusty volume for hours with no luck. Sighing dejectedly, Buffy silently shut the huge tome she'd been trying to read. It was no use, the words were starting to jumble all together, looking suspiciously like a foreign tongue. Suddenly curious, Buffy turned the book to its side to reveal that that was indeed the case. She shook her head, she really needed to get some sleep. Jealously, she peered over at the slightly snoring Xander and the perfect as always Cordelia, both fast asleep for the past hour. Well, it could be worse, she thought, glancing at the increasingly agitated vampire sitting across from her. While the two teens slept peacefully he'd been casting nervous glances at the graying skies out the window, knowing full well that soon enough he'll be trapped. Got to hand it to him, though, Buffy thought, he didn't once complain or try to run away. She piously decided to ignore the fact that at this point there was really nowhere to run.

She jumped slightly as a soft hand rested gently on her shoulder. "Watcha thinking?" Willow asked quietly.

Buffy shrugged, "just how it's all coming together, how everybody's here to help." Well, almost everybody.

Willow gave her a reassuring smile, "he'll get over it, Buffy. You're too important to him for him not to."

"Yeah, I just hope it happens before," she motioned towards the books spread around the mostly burned out candles, "this does."

"This is hard for him," the redhead replied, "but you know Giles, he always pulls through." She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, "besides, it's almost morning. Nothing bad ever happens in the morning."

"Besides school," Buffy reminded her.

"And waking up early," Xander added. He yawned and sleepily scratched his tummy, "anybody got food?"

"Not to mention turning into a smoldering pile of ashes," Spike said. They stared at him. "Things that happen in the morning, right?"

"A total solar eclipse," Giles said quietly from the doorway. They gaped at him.

"Um," Xander tried, "things that happen in the morning?"

"Giles," Buffy whispered softly, reverently.

He didn't look at her. She could see the tension in his body as he moved further into the library. Had he been out all night, she wondered then shuddered at the thought. If something had happened to him that would have been her fault too.

"There's going to be a solar eclipse later on today," he told them all, "I can only assume that's when it's all going to happen."

They stared at him. "T-today?" Willow echoed.

Spike's eyes narrowed dangerously as he slammed his book shut, "how do you know?" The blond vampire demanded.

"I'm a Watcher," Giles replied, "I can read the portents in the sky. It took me awhile, but I finally looked up," he added at their blank looks.

"How do you know it's going to happen then, you bloody wanker?" Spike hissed.

"Let's see," Xander supplied sardonically, his features visibly pale, "a major earthquake, a solar eclipse. Nope, just a coincidence, nothing wrong with that picture."

"Mom!" Buffy suddenly cried out making everyone jump, "I've got to tell mom to get the kids out of here!"

"I'll do it," Willow volunteered, she glanced out the window at the rapidly brightening sky, "it's going to take the parents awhile to get the kids ready, but I'll have them out by the time the sun rises." Buffy nodded her thanks as the redhead quickly left the library.

"I'm bloody well trapped in here till this thing goes down," Spike growled, his eyes glimmering a dangerous gold.

"Yes, you are," Giles confirmed callously. "But there's something you can do about it."

The vampire and Watcher locked eyes as understanding flowed between the two sworn enemies. In the end it was the golden eyes that broke away, "I'll go teach the minions the curse," Spike said softly, his demeanor seemed cowed somehow. "Should have made brighter minions," his grumbling voice wafted through the swinging doors, "it'll probably take a lifetime just to pound the words into their thick skulls."

"Giles, I," Buffy started when the library doors stopped swinging.

He raised his hand to stop her, "Buffy, if we get through this..."

"You know," Xander cut in, "some optimism right about now wouldn't be of the bad."

"When we get through this," the librarian corrected, "I promise we'll have a nice, long discussion about the virtue of honesty, especially where your Watcher is concerned."

Buffy swallowed hard, "by discussion you mean you'll talk and I'll listen, don't you?" She asked ruefully.

"And I'll probably repeat myself several times," he deadpanned, "loudly. But right now we have more pressing issues to consider." He looked around at the serious young faces, "it's all coming together sooner than we expected." He glanced at the burnt out candles and the books scattered across the floor, "I take it you haven't managed to come up with anything new."

"If by anything new you mean something that could get us out of this in one piece then I'm rooting for a big no," Xander grumbled.

Giles nodded wearily, "I thought as much. It's probably just as well anyway." They stared at him. "Angel was the one predestined to defeat Cirta," the tired Watcher explained gently, "we can't do anymore than is humanly possible, and that would be locking her out of human consciousness for as long as we can." He peered at the shocked young faces, his determined expression discouraging any arguments. "Go, be with your families. There's nothing you can do here now."

"You are family," Buffy murmured quietly.

Touched beyond words, Giles hastily took off his glasses and concentrated on rubbing at the lenses vigorously. He could feel tears forming in his weary eyes, but quickly blinked them away unsure whether he would be weeping for himself or for the children he had come to care for.

"Buffy, your mom wants to see you before she leaves with the kids," Willow said as she stepped into the tension of the library. "What'd I miss?" She asked accusingly as she glared into her friends' troubled faces.

"Nothing, Will," Buffy replied, giving the redhead a reassuring smile, "I'll see you in a bit." She called softly as she left the sanctuary of the library to say goodbye to her mother.

Buffy glanced out the window at the sparkling blue sky for the umpteenth time that morning.

"Are you sure you didn't misread the stars, Giles?" Xander asked casually making the Slayer grit her teeth irritably. Xander had been asking that question almost as many times as she'd been glancing out the window.

"Yes, I'm absolutely sure, Xander," came the Watcher's testy reply.

"You don't have to get all snippy about it," Xander retorted, "all I'm saying is mistakes happen. I mean you've been busy watching the ground for so long looking for creepy crawlers that you probably didn't get a chance to look up at the sky too often. People do get out of practice, you know. It didn't even have to be your fault," the boy hurried on as the Watcher's gray eyes narrowed dangerously, "it could have been a celestial version of a typo."

Buffy sighed as she let Xander's voice wash over her. The ordeal of saying goodbye to her mother had left her feeling emotionally battered and in desperate need of chocolate. They'd both wept, as was expected, and told one another the truths they both needed to hear. They spoke of love and acceptance and forgiveness. They embraced with a closeness only mother and daughter can share and in the end Buffy felt her heart shatter yet again as she watched her mother leave.

"This one time," Xander was saying, "I misunderstood an entire test because I didn't flip the page over. I'm just saying things happen."

"The sky does not flip over, Xander," Giles said coolly.

Buffy wondered idly if that was what postal workers sounded like right before deteriorating into their fully understandable, and somewhat expected, killing spree. With a sigh she went back to staring at the clear blue sky.

"But space is curved," Xander argued.

With something that sounded suspiciously like a growl the reserved librarian threw his hands in the air in frustration. "I wish it would bloody well start already," he grumbled, glaring furiously at the sky as if it was purposefully mocking him.

Buffy fervently agreed with him. The waiting was becoming unbearable, driving their tension to unexplored levels. Cordelia had managed to pick a fight with just about everyone in the room while Xander busied himself by annoying those who refused to acknowledge the May Queen. Oz and Willow had fought and reconciled three times and Buffy was fairly certain that Oz wasn't even aware of at least two of the three arguments.

She sighed and stared out the window once again. "Oh, just go ahead and eclipse already," she grumbled.

"Is that even a verb?" Cordelia inquired.

Buffy glanced over at the brunette's less than innocent expression, "I am so not taking grammar lessons from you," she snapped irritably. "Why don't you go do something productive," she hurried on as the May Queen opened her mouth to deliver a scalding retort, "and keep Xander busy. I hear there's a utility closet that's just become available." She regretted the words as soon as they left her mouth at the sound of the small gasp coming from her best friend. She turned around sharply to catch the furious blush creeping down the redhead's usually pale features. So that's how they made up that last time, Buffy thought to herself, I was wondering what took them so long.

"I think I've pretty much done my share around here," Cordelia's sharp voice cut smoothly through the Slayer's reverie. "What with the slaying when you ran away, and the getting Angel out of hell bit. It took me an hour to get the reek of those stinky herbs out of my hair! Not to mention my sheep speech! I'd like to see you try to get by without that."

"Um, guys?" Oz asked quietly.

"What on earth is a sheep speech?" Giles asked Xander in exasperation.

The teenager merely shrugged in reply.

"Guys." Oz tried again.

"I mean without that," the angry teen pushed on, "it'd been just us mumbling words nobody understood. How pathetic is that? Everybody would have laughed their asses off right up until we all got sucked into a fiery hell."

"As always, thanks for the lovely mental image," Xander grumbled.

"But no," Cordelia went on, her voice rising in a shrill crescendo, "this way, thanks to ME, we all get to die horribly together. And what do I get in return? No respect, no love. Where's the love, people?"

"Guys!" Oz yelled before Cordelia could catch her breath. "Um," he went on quietly as they all turned to stare at him, "it's kind of dark for noon, don't you think?"

Five heads simultaneously whipped around to stare out the window. They all looked on quietly, each lost in their own thoughts as the dark shadows outside slowly defeated the bright day.

"It has begun," Giles said solemnly, his voice a morbid affirmation to any hesitations running through his young charges' minds.

"Well, finally," Cordelia breathed shrilly, breaking them out of the strange trance that seemed to overtake them all.

Buffy shook herself out of her stupor, her mind automatically drawing on her instincts for survival. "Xander, you, Willow, Cordelia and Oz go round up everybody. Tell them it's time. Giles, you come with me to get Spike and his," she swallowed hard, "friends," she grumbled, satisfied that she managed to keep most of the hostility out of her voice. "We'd better bring stakes," she added as an afterthought.

"You know," Xander muttered as he gathered his things, "it's kind of considered impolite to threaten someone who's on your side."

Buffy shrugged as Giles gathered their weapons, "must've skipped that class in finishing school. Besides," she added, brandishing an evil looking crossbow, "it's just a threat. We're going to need all the lips we can get." She felt a slow flush creep up her face as they all stopped what they were doing to stare at her. "And I am just now realizing how bad that sounded," she muttered. "Meet us in the schoolyard as soon as you can," she said, already pushing through the swinging doors with her Watcher close at her heels.

"Now what?" Willow asked her friend quietly. Buffy simply stared at her helplessly. Everything was ready, they had the eclipse, the curse, the masses of humanity joined with demon kind to fight a common enemy. The only thing missing was the common enemy.

"Something better happen soon," Xander muttered, his feet nervously shuffling the ground, "cause I'm thinking this is kind of anticlimactic as far as fighting big evil goes."

"Not to mention hell on the nerves," Oz said quietly, his face a stoic mask as always.

"I don't know," Buffy said weakly, "I didn't really think about this part. I figured that after all the prophecies and natural disasters, finding them would kind of be the easy part." She raised her hands in supplication under the weight of her friends' expectant looks, "it's not like I thought there'd be a pillar of light or anything," to her annoyance she found herself squirming under their looks. "I mean, would a guiding presence be too much to ask for?"

"They'll be at the old churchyard."

"Something like that?" Oz asked dryly as they all spun around.

"I vote we wait for the pillar of light," Buffy snarled irritably as she glared at the calm Elder. "You've developed this nasty little habit of showing up," she fondled her stake lovingly, "mind if I take care of that for you?"

"How do you know?" Giles demanded, ignoring his charge's implied threat.

The raven haired Elder simply shrugged, "it's where she appeared all those years ago. And to Angelus, coming into power before the church would only mean that much greater a triumph. Besides," he added dryly at their appreciative looks, "the prophecies foretold of that place years ago."

The Watcher frowned at the thought of a prophecy escaping him, "what prophecies?" He demanded, "the Watcher's Council hadn't informed me of any prophecies."

A slight smile appeared on the sensual lips, vanishing before taking any real hold on the regal features, "it just did," Gerrico replied blandly, his blue eyes glimmering as the Watcher swallowed uncomfortably. He looked around at the tremulous mass of humanity separated by the thin layer of the Slayer and her friends from the dozen vampires mulling around their bleached blond leader. He nodded in satisfaction, "we'd better get this army of yours moving if you're still set on doing this."

Buffy stared at him, her eyes going wide as she took in his infuriatingly composed features, "what do you mean 'we'?"

"You didn't think I'd let you go through this alone, did you?" The Elder asked innocently.

He was having way too much fun with this, Buffy decided, "nothing is truly immortal," she reminded him coldly.

"I think it's high time I put that to the test," Gerrico replied grimly, his luminous eyes shining despite the dark reality of his words. With that he turned to aid with the Herculean task of herding the masses towards their intended destination.

Buffy's eyes followed the lithe figure till he disappeared from sight entirely among the undulating throng. She jumped slightly when a slender hand closed around her wrist. "You didn't mention he was a hottie," the cheerleader whispered urgently.

"Cordy," Buffy replied exasperatedly, "he's over two thousand years old."

A dark eyebrow raised pointedly, "two thousand, two hundred, what's a little necrophilia between old friends?" The pretty brunette hurried on as she spotted her boyfriend, leaving the mortified Slayer alone to ponder over that little tidbit of reality.

"Stop!" Buffy cried out suddenly. Behind her slight form her makeshift army stumbled to a halt, bumping into each other with disgruntled surprise.

"What is it, Buffy?" Giles asked tensely, his gray eyes nervously peering through the darkness.

"I don't know," the tiny Slayer admitted quietly. The unnatural mix of demons with humans had played havoc with her senses all through their march. Spike, a leader by nature and a vampire master by experience, had quickly deserted his post at the human army's flank by his minions' side and had come to join Buffy at the front, much to her annoyance. As a result not only did the nervous Slayer have a master vampire breathing down her neck, but his suddenly leaderless cronies had neatly immersed themselves deep within the human ranks. Spike was quick to assure her that not a single human would be harmed, but still Buffy's senses were shrieking against the unnaturalness of the situation.

"What is it, Slayer?" Spike demanded harshly from behind, "why have we stopped?"

She turned on him, her nerves standing on end, "if you'd back away from me for two seconds then maybe I could tell you!" She retorted ruthlessly as she turned away, missing the insulted expression on the pale vampire's face. She stared hard into the unforgiving darkness ahead, her eyes forcing, twisting the bleak shadows to form the shapes her other, more reliable senses were telling her were out there. Suddenly, after several long strenuous moments it happened. "That back stabbing son of a bi..."

"Easy, child," came the familiar voice from the darkness beside her.

Buffy whipped around, her fists raised to strike, "you set us up!" She hissed, a sharp stake flicking into her small fist. "I can't believe I let myself trust you again."

A tiny glimmer of annoyance flared in Gerrico's startling blue eyes, but was quickly quenched. "You did so with good cause. If you'd just let me explain..."

"Explain what?" Buffy snarled, taking a threatening step towards the unarmed elder. The shadows in the distance seemed to undulate somehow, writhe together to take on a human shape. Several human shapes. "That this is a trap? That you've brought us here to stop us with your vampire army? You've been against this all along, I should have known you wouldn't change your mind just like that!"

The elder rolled his eyes with disgust and nearly missed the lightning quick lunge the Slayer made at his unprotected chest. He ducked to the side with cat like grace, the sharp wooden stake missing his heart by a hairsbreadth, then whipped around to face his attacker, his blue eyes blazing. "You're making your army nervous, Slayer," he hissed angrily. His long fingers grabbed at her stake in a flurry of motion, "a good leader of men wouldn't do that." The long fingers casually smashed the stake to splinters as they closed into an angry fist.

The shadowy shapes grew closer, their footsteps ringing in the hushed silence, signaling the approach of dozens of people. "Buffy, I'd like you to meet my army," Gerrico said lightly, all traces of his previous rage gone from his voice. "They're here to join us."

"I-I don't understand," Buffy murmured as she took in the several dozen stony-faced vampires standing solemnly before her.

"I think I do," Spike snarled coming to stand beside the bewildered Slayer. "What, my lads weren't good enough for you, you had to bring your own?" He demanded, his eyes flashing golden in the darkness.

The elder shrugged, but the mirth returned to his blue eyes, "I'm sure they're fine, Spike. But the prophecy did say 'an army of human and demon kind stood before her'. I'd hardly call the lot you've got there an army."

"So you brought some backup," Giles muttered, understanding dawning on him even as he eyed the demon horde nervously. "They do know they're here to assist us I suppose?" He asked, as a vampire snarled his way.

"They know why there here," Gerrico assured the anxious Watcher, humor still gleaming in his eyes. "Why don't we go join them?" He suggested casually as the human army tittered uneasily.

"It's not my fault there's so few of us," Buffy heard Spike complaining to the elder as they pushed forward to greet the new addition to the vast human army. "It's the Slayer. I kept making minions and she kept dusting them. It's impossible to get anything done when you've got that going against you." She vaguely heard Gerrico's muttered sympathies as the human masses swept past her, swallowed her whole, to follow the master vampire and the former demon.

* * *
Chapter Seventeen

"So where is he?" Xander demanded his feet nervously shuffling the ground.

His girlfriend eyed his jumpy antics for several moments, "do you have to go to the bathroom or something?" She finally asked. "Cause this is really one of those times where you should have gone before we left."

"Hush!" Gerrico commanded as Xander opened his mouth to deliver a testy reply.

Buffy gazed at the Elder curiously. The calm, often infuriatingly so, demeanor was practically anything but. The usually stoic mask was replaced with something very much like fear, and even the sparkling blue eyes seemed hooded and dark. "Why'd you change your mind?" She asked softly.

"I didn't," he replied shortly, his eyes cleaving the darkness, searching for something human eyes could never see.

The Slayer mulled that over for several moments, "so you did lie to me," she stated quietly, there were no accusations this time. "You manipulated me to get us all here."

The Elder sighed ruefully as he tore his attention away from the compelling darkness to look down at the young girl by his side. "I never lied to you," he said softly, "but I always knew that this, where we are now, was a very real possibility."

Wide eyed, Buffy looked up at the Elder, mesmerized by the shadows marking the lines of his face, the ancient wisdom in the hooded eyes. "I don't understand," she whispered with a child's uncertainty.

Gerrico nodded, his attention returning to the darkness before him, "the ideal solution would have been for Angel to have been granted his power and then destroyed Cirta with it."

"No muss, no fuss," she whispered.

"But that isn't what happened," Gerrico continued, giving no indication that he even heard her. "I always knew there would be a chance for things to go wrong." The Elder shook his head warily, "there were just too many variables, too many uncertainties, too many things that could have gone wrong. There had to be an alternate solution."

"So this is plan B?" Buffy asked, then smiled ruefully in spite of herself. "God, I hate plan B. Just once I'd like to see a plan A work out."

"Up ahead, can you see it?" Spike hissed urgently, his voice echoing the fears and doubts of all that were assembled to fight.

Buffy peered into the darkness, her senses concentrating, aching to see, to hear anything, then finally there it was. There he was. "Oh God," she moaned as she gazed upon the face of her lover. His beautiful, pale features vivid even in this bleak darkness, his proud, broad shoulders bespoke of a dark might. And his stance, he stood as though he owned the world. Beside him a grim shadow undulated, twisted, splintered the night into a thousand slivers of impending evil. "Cirta," the Slayer whispered with a hitch in her voice as the shadow sensuously wrapped around Angel's powerful body, caressing him with the intimacy of a lover. God, I hate plan B, Buffy thought as her mouth filled with gall and her stomach heaved, I really do.

"Stay close together!" Gerrico commanded his voice reverberating through the churchyard, assuring every thundering heart, each sweaty brow that they were not alone. There was no mirth in his eyes, no hesitation in his stance, he radiated the authority of a man born to lead. "Don't drift apart!" And the makeshift army of mortal enemies and frightened children moved to obey.

Buffy stared helplessly at her pale lover on the hill. Even at this distance his dark eyes seemed to bore directly into her soul wanting, needing. "Slayer, snap out of it!" Spike hissed in her ear, shaking her out of her reverie.

With an effort that left her shaking she tore her gaze away and almost fell to her knees under the weight of the sudden emptiness that engulfed her. "He looks so..."

"Powerful," spike completed in an almost gentle voice. "All the more reason to take the ass down." The pale vampire dared a furious glare at the hill, showering his once beloved sire with murderous thoughts, "him and his little shadow too."

Buffy choked back a half strangled laugh, "well aren't you a regular wicked witch of the west." She took a deep breath missing the look of pure admiration coming from her former mortal enemy, "are you ready, Spike?" She asked, her luminous eyes a mystery.

He looked at her, at his enemy, his ally and always his equal. What a vampire she would have made, he thought wistfully, all that beauty, all that strength preserved forever. "I'm ready, Buffy," he said soberly, his cool hand clasping hers for a moment before letting go.

"Not to ruin a perfectly creepy moment or anything," Xander murmured nervously, "but how do we know when we're supposed to start cursing?"

On the hill, the dark angel raised his hand to point at the heavens. A crackling fork of light burned across the sky, leaving behind a reek of sulfur. Fire danced across the vision of all who watched, filling them with the fear of God.

"Empower me!" Cried out the angel on the hill with a voice that could belong to no man, "fill me so I may return thee to thy rightful place!" A cold, harsh wind began to blow throughout the churchyard, sending shivers down frail human spines. Quickly it grew into a gale, tearing through trees, turning the ground, bringing with it the stench of the grave as it chafed exposed skin like an living evil thing.

Though her eyes watered from the wind and her ears rang at each clap of thunder, Buffy forced herself to focus on the man on the hill. Something was happening to the shadow by his side, something was causing it to twist and turn violently, to elongate forcefully into a human shape. A female shape.

"Empower me so I may dispose of this rabble that dishonors you!"

"Who does he think he's calling rabble?" Came the insulted demand that Buffy immediately recognized as Cordelia's.

Lightening forked its way down from the sky to blast against the ground in a shower of deadly sparks. Deep beneath their feet, the army ranks could feel the earth groan. Rain began to wash down hard on the forces of humanity as if seeking its destruction. Pinpricks of pain coming from all sides, hunting exposed flesh, sparing no one.

And on the hill the shadow twisted still, transparent no longer as pale features formed within its dark depths, a tall slender body veiled from the world only by translucent darkness that draped from her female form like an ethereal gown.

"I'm thinking this could be that sign you were waiting for," Buffy muttered gruffly, her voice nearly lost to the supernatural storm.

"Ed Esperatum, dis mortum," Gerrico called out, his voice carrying impossibly throughout the courtyard, commanding, compelling, demanding they join him.

"And the Slayer's right again," Spike smirked, an odd hitch in his voice, "who'd have thunk it?" Pointing unnecessarily at his dark sire on the hill, he joined his angry voice with the Elder's.

"Don't you just hate it when people don't let you have the last word?" Xander asked wickedly before adding his voice to the rising crescendo.

Buffy glared at him for a moment, "oh yeah," she grumbled, "this is exactly how I pictured dying." With a final breath of acceptance, she too committed herself to the words that would ultimately destroy them all.

"Bow before me!" He commanded. His stance was confident and his broad shoulders bespoke authority, and many would have submitted to his will for simple, human fear of that. But the force of his will also shook those who would have stood tall, who would bow to no man, be he angel or demon. The ground thundered with the echo of a thousand human bodies dropping to their knees, as the weakest of the rebels were broken. So he laughed, contemptuously so, because those that remained standing, those with the fire of battle in their eyes and the cursing of his new lover's body on their lips would prove most challenging. And he laughed, joyously so, because the power that flowed through him, that filled his blood with a fire unlike any he'd felt before, was finally entirely under his control. He felt the earth hum ecstatically beneath his feet, aching to do his bidding. He felt the heavens gape open wildly as a dark vortex swirled above him. He felt the pounding life surrounding him, practically begging to be dominated, to be raped under the brutal force of his will. Drunk with unwholesome power, he laughed.

Buffy cringed at the sound of her lover's laughter as it echoed through the churchyard. She flinched at the pure joy of the sound, the undeniable evil, and yet she went on mouthing the words that bound her to life. Her friends were around her, she knew that without taking her eyes off the dark angel on the hill. They weren't with the fallen.

"Bow before me!" Came the cry, and the earth shook again as simple human strength shattered before a dark god's command.

Buffy felt the strain on her mind deepen, as noxiously sweet cajoling swelled into a powerful demand. Harsh winds blew around her, tearing at her skin, but no gale, no matter how powerful, could cause her limbs to tremble like they did. With horror she realized she wanted to obey, she wanted to fall to her knees before her dark lover and accept his dominance over her mind, her soul, her body.

As if sensing her weakness, a cold, clammy hand caught hold of her own, squeezing it reassuringly. And once again the Chosen One was faced with the truth: she wasn't alone. Blindly, her mouth still mumbling words she barely understood, her face assaulted by cold, unnatural winds, she reached out and grabbed someone's hand, holding on for dear life. The result was astounding, she could feel the resolve returning to her body and the anger seeping back into her mind. Around her people swayed and fell, their lips still mouthing condemning words, but she knew that as long as she was cradled in the hands of humanity she was safe from harm.

Angel's features contorted with mirth as he watched determination return to the rebel ranks. Hands reached out blindly, seeking that fragile human bond even a strong wind could break. "Fools!" He cried out as aching backs straightened resolutely and burning lips screamed defiance. They could keep this up maybe moments longer, but no more. In the end frail human bodies and minds could never stand a chance against one such as he. In the end the ranks of humans and lesser demons would crumble and fall and that would only be the beginning. In the end he would have it all.

He glanced at the tall, dark woman beside him, a mirror image of himself. She'd given him so much and had only asked for him in return. They would have it all.

Slowly, one by one humanity faltered and crumbled to the unforgiving ground. The Slayer could feel the agony spreading through her ranks as her blazing lifeline weakened and fell into despair. They're only human, she thought as hard winds crashed ruthlessly against her tiny frame and unnaturally cold rain soaked her to the bone. What use is a mere human against a God?

With cold certainty and grim acceptance she let go of the hands clasping on to her own, separating herself with final determination from those that loved her. This was her fight, she realized bleakly as cries of anguish surrounded her, chipping away at the single voice of determination that had not yet fallen. This was her responsibility from the very beginning, it should never have come to this. This was who she was.

With slow deliberation her mouth stopped forming the words she never understood to close around a single condemning one. One she believed in and had reached on her own, a single word she would give her life to. "ENOUGH!" She cried in a ringing voice that battled fiercely against the thunder and the wind and the rain.

Immediately her gut lurched, her knees began to tremble as her disobedience took its toll and the curse and the God began to wrack havoc on her tiny, useless, human form. She screamed out voicelessly as she felt the curse tearing into her flesh, twisting her apart. Her eyes wide and unseeing as Angel ground into her mind with his own destructive glee. Then, as she begged for madness to take her away, as she gibbered for the pain to stop, as she made promises she couldn't comprehend came the glorious reply.

"ENOUGH!"

She was floating, drifting away on a warm comfortable breeze. Her parents had taken her to visit an aunt in the country and after awhile, sick of the loud, adult voices, she'd drifted away on her own. She'd found a patch of virgin grass and had fallen asleep with the warm, fresh scent of clean earth and grass around her. It was dark when she opened her eyes then to the suddenly unfamiliar stretch of land. She'd shivered as her light summer dress had innocently surrendered to the powerful night and she sniffed as her eyes filled with childish tears. Her father had found her, after what seemed like hours later, curled into a tiny, weeping ball rocking back and forth.

Her eyes brimmed with tears now as memories seeped through her reawakening mind along with the cold and the pain. Her parents were divorced now, and her father hadn't come looking for her in years. There was no one to cradle her in his arms, no one that could make the dark, endless night go away. There was only her, the Slayer. And she was alone.

With strength she never thought she possessed, she pushed herself to her feet taking in her surroundings. All was quiet now, the rain and the wind hushed to an almost gentle existence, the lightning nothing but a mediocre fire show high up in the sky. And the voices, for a moment she thought she had lost her hearing as the complete and total silence engulfed her. The people were still there all around her spread across the ground like a living mantle, but they were so quiet, so frozen as they stared up at her and...

"Angel!" She cried out, her voice echoing and distorting, finally drifting into nothing in the churchyard.

"You've come here to destroy me," it wasn't a question. "You've come here with your army and your words to destroy me. Again." There was terrifying contempt in his voice, and unmistakable power laced between the words.

There was no point in lying, she realized, with dark eyes that could see into her heart and read her soul she couldn't lie to him. Not anymore. "I came here to destroy Cirta," her voice sounded pitifully weak, the words fading into nothing as soon as they left her lips. "That means I have to destroy you too." She swallowed hard as he processed what she said, and all the while her mind raced. Why wasn't she dead? She'd stopped mouthing the curse and that alone by all rights should have torn her apart. What happened? Why was everyone so quiet?" She didn't dare take her eyes off the dark vampire to look around her, she'd already accepted her own responsibilities.

"She lies," a soft voice hissed behind the anxious Slayer. "She aches to kill you, lover. Her body screams vengeance for all you have done."

Tremors rushed down Buffy's spine as she finally looked upon the face of her enemy. She was beautiful, flawlessly so. With dark sable hair and eyes darker still, pale features that only matched Angel's with their intensity, a tall, yet unmistakably feminine, slender form. She could have been Angel's sister, in fact, the Slayer thought as her eyes narrowed with suspicion, it was more than that. It was as if this woman had been modeled after Angel himself, almost a mirror image of him. "That's not true," her voice felt stronger, more confident as she denied the liar's accusations. "I never wanted to hurt you."

Angel's pale features hardened with disbelief, "why should it matter?" His voice was deceptively calm, controlled, but blue fire crackling around him betrayed his inner turmoil. "You don't love me. You never loved me, anyway."

"Yes, lover," Cirta murmured as her fingers traced his neck, traveled intimately down to his shoulders and chest before settling on a clinging embrace from behind. His hand rested lightly on her pale arm, but his dark, demanding eyes never left Buffy's face.

"I've never stopped loving you!" To her disgust she found herself pleading, begging him to believe her. "I would have given my life if I thought I could have saved you then, and I'd do it now if I could."

"Enough," Cirta's arms tightened sensuously around Angel's neck, a cat demanding attention, "I bore of this, lover. Kill her. Kill them all!"

Pulling fiercely away from his lover's grasp, Angel took a violent step closer to the trembling Slayer, "I don't believe you!" He hissed, his face livid with rage, blue sparks crackling around his body as a living testament to the power he held. "I forgave you for condemning me to centuries of hell almost as soon as I realized what happened. I never blamed you for that!"

She stared at him wide-eyed, what was he saying? How could he have forgiven her for that? "But I never forgave you for not taking my hand!" She blinked, her mind a confused jumble of thoughts, memories and images all blending together to become one single, blazing moment in time where her agonized lover had thrust out his hand even as the swirling vortex claimed him as its own. "Why didn't you take my hand?"

"Because I couldn't save you!" She cried, her voice ringing through the endless night reaching to the farthest regions of her childhood nightmares, challenging them with her own kind of power. She was human, she was standing before a God, but she would hold her own to the very end. "Because I would have given my life for yours, the world for yours, all of this," she finally turned to look at the faces of her friends, of her peers, "I'd have given for you! If I could. But I couldn't, and I suffered for it, and I wanted to die for it and I went to hell for it because I thought I deserved it! Because I thought I didn't deserve life because of what I did to you, because I thought I didn't deserve love and friendship and sunshine I became you, but it wasn't enough. Nothing was enough and I couldn't redeem myself!" He stared at her as though she had gone insane, but she didn't care. Maybe she was going insane, none of this was making any sense, but this guilt and shame had been buried inside her for too long, it had to come out.

"So I went to hell!" She cried, her voice holding all the horrors she'd witnessed there, all that terrible despair. "I went to hell because you did, I walked like the dead because you did, but none of it made any difference!" It was just the two of them now, no masses of humanity at their feet awaiting death, no demonic presence shunned to the side by her own protege. It was just the two of them. "I wanted to die so badly I nearly did, but that wouldn't have made any difference either, none of it would," she was pleading now, begging for his understanding. "I would have died and the next Slayer would have been called and nothing would have changed, but I couldn't."

"You couldn't what?" He asked softly, tenderly a kind of anxiousness in his eyes.

"I couldn't die just like I couldn't let you live. I'd give everything up for you if I could, but I can't," her voice was calmer now, and she was vaguely aware that her body was trembling, that her face was flushed with tears. "Not the world, not their lives, not even my life. It's just not mine to give, none of it." She looked him in the eyes, sincerity beaming from her very soul, "I'm the Slayer, Angel. It's not what I am, it's who I am and that's the reason behind it all."

They gazed at one another in the complete silence that followed her words, each assessing, deciding, lost in each other's eyes, just as they had been countless times in the past. "Enough!" Cirta cried out, her voice shrilly shattering the silence into a thousand shards of indecision. "You listen to what this human has to say, and she would kill you still in a pathetic heartbeat if she had to."

"I would," the Slayer nodded under her lover's demanding gaze. There was no reason to lie, not anymore.

"She makes excuses for her own decisions," Cirta pushed on, her hand resting lightly on Angel's shoulder once more, making her claim. "She blames her calling for her own judgments, and you," her fingers closed around his powerful arm, forcing him to acknowledge her, "and you will forever be her victim!"

"The thing is," Buffy purred as the realization finally hit her, as the absolute certainty filled her with its formidable strength, "it's not a calling. It was never just a calling," her eyes blazed even as her back straightened. She could feel the familiar righteous indignation fill her body to the very core, returning the strength to her weary limbs. "This," she said, her voice reverberating with power she never dreamed she had, "is who I am!" A slight smile formed on her lips with the realization, this was what the Elder had been trying to tell her all along. What her whole life had been leading to, and she wouldn't change it even if she could.

She stood before them, her lover and her enemy, no long a weak human to be swiped away with the whim of a God. With her eyes blazing righteous anger and her fists clenched with hate, she was a force of nature, a being to be reckoned with. And they all knew it.

"Destroy her!" Cirta screamed, her dark eyes alive with hate and fear, "kill her now, Angelus!"

Slowly, sensuously, deliberately the dark angel turned to face the creature he owed his life to, "I don't think so."

"No," Cirta gasped, backing away from her dark lover. "It can't be, I read your mind. You hated her! You never intended to destroy me!"

Angel smiled, a wicked expression, "problem was, lover," he purred, "you only read the human side, all the doubts, the betrayals, the insecurities. You never touched the beast." His face changed, his beautiful human smile twisting into a bestial snarl, "this," he pointed at his face with hands that were claws, "was a gift to you. A parting gift from hell!"

"No!" The demon woman screamed her face a mask of terror, "I gave you everything!"

"And it still wasn't enough," Angel hissed, his eyes blazing golden fire even as his hand stretched forth to point at his one time lover, "you weren't her. The human side never loved you, and the beast," he laughed, a terrifying sound slashing through the absolute silence, "the beast would never be dominated. Never again!" With a sound like a thunderclap, power rushed from his hand, engulfing the demon woman in a blaze of glory.

"Can you feel it?" He demanded, cruelly echoing the question that had recently ruled his life. "Can you feel the power running through your veins? Burning you from the inside out?" He smiled because her agonized scream told him all he needed to know. "It's destroying you! Killing you once and for all!" Her once lovely body was engulfed in the desecrating blue flames now, twisting, and molding, folding in on itself as it surrendered to the powerful flames.

"Children!" She cried out as she crumbled to the unforgiving earth, "rise, take vengeance!" And then, crumbling to ash, she was nothing at all.

Buffy stared horrified at the charred piece of ground that was once her enemy. Her chest heaved and her hands trembled, but still she forced herself to look up at the man who had done the impossible. "What the hell did that mean?" She demanded, her voice squeaking slightly.

Angel, his face beautifully, wonderfully, deceptively human once more simply shrugged, "I don't..."

A scream cut his words short, one that was at once both familiar, yet much, much louder than she remembered. "Duck!" She managed to scream before the blast threw her to the ground with the force of a bomb. She blinked stupidly, her vision swimming and her ears ringing.

Roughly, Angel grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her to her feet, "what the hell was that?" He demanded.

She shook her head in effort to clear away the dizziness, "Cirta's minions," she gasped. "They must be," she floundered, "self-destructing," she finally gasped. "If there're any more of them anywhere near here..." Her words were cut short by several screams coming from different directions nearby.

Angel and Buffy stared at each other, their thoughts completely in synch for the first time in a long time, "oh, shit!" They agreed as they threw themselves to the ground as one.

The blast was deafening, roaring in her ears as fire swept over her body, singing her skin. In a distance, somewhere behind the roar in her mind the screaming continued. "Get everyone out of here," she shouted at the vampire by her side. "We've got to get everyone out of here!"

Angel nodded, then ducked slightly as another explosion went off from further away. "Follow me!" He hollered at the stunned masses. No one made any sign of moving, their fear of him and what they had just witnessed greater than any puny explosion. Angel's dark eyes narrowed dangerously, his body crackled with blue flames, "if you want to live," he commanded with a voice that reached them all, "follow me!" This time there was no hesitation as the masses turned to follow their dark leader.

"I'm staying at the rear," Buffy shouted as Angel began making his way out of the city, "I'll make sure everyone gets out all right." He nodded back, her only sign that he had heard her.

"Can't he do something about this?" Willow demanded, having run to Buffy as soon as it was humanly possible. "He's got all this power, can't he do something with it?"

The two girls ducked as another explosion went off much too close for comfort, "I don't know what he can do, Will," she told her wild-eyed friend. She looked back over her shoulder in hopes of catching a glimpse of her dark angel. "I don't know if he does either."

Twisting violently in an effort to make sure that everyone managed to escape the inferno, Buffy spotted a pale vampire herding his mad lover away from harm. "So how does it feel to be on the winning team for once?" She cried out above the crackling flames.

Unable to help himself, Spike stopped and pretended to ponder the answer to that. Golden fire gleamed across his wicked features, adding an air of mischief to his eyes. "Interesting, I'll have to try it again sometime," he shouted back, then turned to gently guide Drusilla out of the burning city.

Buffy glared at him, the fire in her eyes brighter than any flame, "you know that the next time I see you I'll have to kill you."

His laughter mingled with the crackling flames, making her doubt she'd heard anything at all, "I'm counting on that, Slayer," his voice wafted among the flames and the people before disappearing entirely.

* * *
Epilogue
She stood on a cliff overlooking the black skies of the dying city she called home. It was over, finally over, and somehow they'd managed to survive. She tried to find a sense of relief somewhere within her jumbled emotions, she tried to find the joy that should have been dancing in her soul at the thought of a victory she never deserved. But those emotions were dulled at the sight of the flames consuming everything she'd come to call her own.

A loud explosion dulled by distance boomed across the northern edge of Sunnydale. "First a high school," she murmured softly, "then a town, what next?" Grimly, she watched the golden mushroom rise up into the murky skies before slowly oozing into smoke. There goes the gas station, she thought bleakly.

"I'd suggest a small country," a familiar voice said dryly, "the loud, annoying kind who claim they don't really have any nuclear weapons. You'd have plenty to choose from."

She stared incredulously at the dark-haired man standing beside her. Had Angel just made a joke? She shook her head, recent events were finally getting to her.

Silently they watched as the town where they had met and loved crumbled to the ground. As places that stood as mute witnesses to a love that should never have been burned bright with the light of utter destruction.

"I've seen this happen too many times," Angel finally said.

"An insane demon mother set on destroying the world?" She asked. Her mind wasn't functioning properly, she knew that, after all she'd been through she was lucky it was even functioning at all. So there was really no reason, she felt, for the look he threw her way.

"Actually, I meant death and destruction," he replied then frowned as a thought suddenly occurred to him, "but ironically that too." She stared at him, was he joking? She had a feeling she didn't want to know. They watched the fires burn on for awhile, two pyromaniacs enchanted by the gleaming flames.

"This was good," he finally said. An explosion rocked the southern edge of town, its fiery blast kissing the murky heavens with a golden touch. Well there was really no reason for two gas stations in such a small town, Buffy thought. "For me," he added as gold turned too quickly to ash floating to the ground. "I finally realised a few things," he tore his eyes away from the burning town to look at her, "about myself, about you."

"About us?" She whispered, her eyes refusing to turn away from the flames, not even to look at her lover.

He nodded, although he knew she couldn't see him. "I love you, Buffy," he said simply, "and I always will. But we can't be together." She could feel her tired heart begin to crack and wearily wondered how it always found the strength to heal. Would it ever remain broken? "Not now at least," he added hastily as if sensing her pain. "I still need to figure some things out about myself." He shook his head and looked helplessly down at his hands, "all that power, I can still feel it coursing through me. It's in my blood." He forced himself to look up at her although she'd never know the difference, "I need to figure out how to control it, control myself," he corrected. He'd lived the lie of being a creature apart from his demon long enough, he wasn't about to make that separation again. The power was as much a part of him as anything else, he would just have to learn how to embrace it. "I need to go away for awhile," he said quietly, almost fearing her reaction, "somewhere where I can just disappear into the crowd without drawing any attention."

She finally turned to look at her lover, taking in his tall, elegant form, his dark, smouldering eyes and the soft sable hair. Try a GQ ad, she thought, you'll blend right in. "Try New-York," she said instead, "as long as you don't jaywalk no one will even know you're there," fat chance of that, she nearly snorted.

He smiled at her, the rarity of the sight stealing her breath away, "I'll keep that in mind," he replied.

She turned back to face the fire, forced herself to watch as the flames consumed the school, all so he wouldn't have to see the tears in her eyes. All that information, she thought, all those precious books and journals Giles would have defended with his life. All gone. The flames seemed to burn an odd crimson where the Hellmouth had once opened, but the distance and the tears made it impossible to be sure. Could the Hellmouth bleed? She certainly hoped so.

She was so wrapped up in her bleak thoughts that she didn't even feel him move from her side, didn't notice the cold emptiness where he'd been standing only moments before. His cool breath gentle on her sensitive skin was her only warning. Idly, she wondered how he'd always managed to get past her when none other of his kind could do the same, but the thought evaporated as memory struck. She'd lived through this before.

She felt his hands on her arms. Soft, so soft, no hidden threats or mysteries. "Do you love me?" He asked, his breath tickling the nape of her neck, a fresh breath of air challenging the smoke.

"Yes," she replied, her eyes never leaving the glowing embers that used to be home.

She could feel the pleasure running through him, and the smile in his voice nearly brought tears to her eyes. "Do you trust me?" He asked.

This time there would be no hesitation, no self-doubt. She knew this man, who was and will always be her lover, she knew what he was capable of. "No," she replied simply. There were no more inner battles to fight, she'd survived through them all.

The small chuckle that escaped his lips was not what she prepared for, "well then," he said, his hands tightening on her arms, but only slightly. He wouldn't hurt her, not today anyway. "We'll just have to work on that." The gentle touch of his lips on her neck drew the familiar response. Shivers ran up and down her spine even after his small touch was replaced by cool emptiness. She watched the town burn on, golden islands swallowed up by a sea of darkness, before she finally, resolutely turned her back to the shattered Hellmouth.

As she made her way towards the refugees of a town that should never have been, as she looked up at the survivors of a destruction that no one would believe, she finally felt the first few twinges of joy pull at her heart. She had won, and whatever would come now she would deal with. She was Buffy, the Vampire Slayer. It was who she was.

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