Part 5

The mansion was the same as he remembered. Angel stood in the doorway and looked into the great hall. The furniture was missing of course and it was older but for him it was the same. The house he'd called his home for a short time after his return from hell. Actually it had been almost a year, but for a vampire that meant nothing. For Angel it meant everything. Sure, he'd made love to Buffy before he went to hell and yet they'd never been closer than they had been in this building.

They'd shared so many things. Although they had been forced to keep their hands off each other their souls had been touching each and every second. Here he had held her the day she thought she'd lost her slayer powers. Maybe it had been the day for her to realize that she couldn't escape her fate because her conscience wouldn't let her. Here she'd come to him trying to get into his head to deal with her jealousy towards Faith. He had to laugh at that. Faith was a good friend after she'd come out of prison, but for the things that mattered she couldn't have held a candle to Buffy. Not for him that was.

Someone had been here. There were flowers everywhere and they'd prepared the building for a gathering. A noise startled him and he turned around. "Anne," he said to the girl who was coming up behind him.

"Angel," she gave him a shaky smile and angrily wiped a tear away that rolled down her cheek, "I'm SO not looking forward to this. I don't want to listen to people talking about them. They're dead and gone."

He studied her face for a long time. She missed her parents and her grand-mother and reacted the way many people did, with anger. For the first time daring he reached out a hand and took hers. Relieved he realised that there wasn't any electricity between them, no rush of passion was running through his veins. Maybe he would be able to help her after all. "I know you feel as if they've betrayed you by leaving like this. But you will never be able to let them go as long as you're angry with them. Only the good memories make it bearable."

"So you're just going to remember the good times and let my Grandma go. And I thought you loved her," she shouted pulling her hand away from him.

Abruptly he turned away and his hands clenched into fists, "No," he hissed through gritted teeth. "But that's different."

Immediately feeling guilty, she cautiously touched his shoulder. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you. I think," she gave him a sheepish smile when he turned around to face her again, "I'm just beginning to learn what she meant to you. It's hard to understand. You're so young and ... well, Granny was old."

"She was a human being," he replied simply.

"Yes," she nodded and seemed to understand the deep meaning behind his words. "And you're not really young."

"No," a laugh escaped his throat, "not really. I'm actually over 300 years old."

Her eyes almost bulged out of her head, "Oh my ..., " she breathed. "So you could be her grand-dad," she had to grin at her idea.

"Add some greats and you might be right," he smiled and took a strand of her hair in his hand, "Only your hair is different."

"It's my father's," she told him. "He had dark hair."

"I saw your mother when she was a little baby. She was very sweet."

Immediately she rolled her eyes, "My mom and sweet. Don't even go there. Usually she was only rules and orders like Anne do this or leave that." Again tears welled up. "God," she wiped them away, "I miss her and dad and most of all I miss Grandma."

"I know the feeling," Angel replied and pulled her into a brotherly embrace.

"It isn't fair," she sobbed. "They were so young. Grandma wasn't really of course," she added, when she pulled back. "But she wasn't ill or anything. I don't understand why this happened."

The vampire looked at her with compassionate eyes. She was an eighteen year old girl and dealing with the death of the people closest to her. What could he tell her. That death belonged to life. What crap! It wouldn't help her at all. And Buffy thought he was able to take care of her. Maybe she'd overestimated his abilities. Taking a deep, unnecessary breath he said, "No, it isn't fair."

She looked up at him with surprise in her eyes, "Do you know that you're the first to say such a thing. My aunts, well they aren't my real aunts, but Willow, Alicia or Candice, that's Alicia's daughter, they say it's just fate. It happens and all I can do is accept it."

"They're right," he released her from his arms and stepped back. Seeing a flicker of disappointment in her eyes he quickly continued, "But that doesn't mean it's fair. But life isn't fair. At least it was never fair to your Grandmother or I for that matter. It's just life. Either we accept what it throws at us or we'll go insane."

A little bit annoyed she gazed at him, "Do you always sound so wise. Because if yes, I'm not sure if I can stand you."

To her utter surprise he began to laugh. It was a deep, genuine sound. In seeing her puzzled face, he explained, "That's what your Grandmother always said to me, you know."

"She did? Yeah, well Grandma Buffy's always been a clever person."

"Very true," he nodded and sobered immediately. "I miss her too."

"I know," her voice was soft. "It must be torture to love someone like you did, but not being allowed to be near her."

"It was," he said thickly, "but I wouldn't trade it for the world."

*

The memorial service started at ten. Willow had arranged it for the night and Angel knew it was partly for him, so that he could attend it. Silently he thanked her for it and took his spot in a corner of the building. The service was to be held by a college friend of Willow's, Tara. They'd even been involved for a short time. She was the same age as the witch and the former red-head had told him that she was now a high priestess of a wiccan order. Somehow it really seemed appropriate for her to do this. She knew Buffy and was a supernatural creature like the ex-slayer.

Angel noticed that Anne came to sit between Willow and a young woman who held a toddler on her lap. That had to be Candice. Beside the young mother sat Willow's daughter Alicia. Both women shared the red hair of the witch, although Alicia's resemblance to Oz wasn't anything to be overlooked.

The service started and Tara talked a little bit about Buffy's life and the life of her daughter and son-in-law. Then she continued by describing the way they'd perished. A machine disorder caused the plane to crash over some field in Oregon. There had been no survivors.

Suddenly Angel heard a noise behind him and turned around only to stare at the person standing there. His opposite eyed him for a long moment and then simply nodded. He didn't say a word not to disturb the ceremony. There weren't many people present. Some elderly women who'd known Buffy. Some childhood friends of her daughter. And a 40 year old man, whom Willow had introduced as the son of Riley Finn from his second marriage, named Ethan. He told Angel that his father had loved Buffy very much and he'd always been sad that their marriage hadn't worked out.

Angel had just nodded, but said nothing. He didn't want to rob the man's illusions. Realising that Buffy would never love him the way he loved her, Riley had become very abusive towards the end of their marriage, which had been one of the reasons why the judge had given Buffy full custody of her children. Much to her relief. She didn't trust the former commando anymore, not to hit them as he'd tried to do to her. As soon as he had realised she was too strong to be abused that way, he had tortured her with words. Sometimes this was an even more effective form of abuse. It certainly was with Buffy, who had had a hard time to free herself from him and the insecurities he'd implanted in her mind.

For this Brian, with his charm and almost boyish wit had been the right man for her. Of course it broke Angel's heart even more to see she fell for him, but he had encouraged her because Brian was good for the slayer. They laughed a lot and he could take her mind from Riley and partially even from slaying.

The vampire looked up when he saw Tara lighting scented candles to finish the ritual. She summoned the spirits of the dead, to give them their final peace. Suddenly an irritated look crossed the wiccan's features and she stilled for a moment, exchanging a glance with Willow, who stood up immediately and approached the altar they'd set up in the great hall.

He could see them whisper and Willow shook her head. Murmurs were to be heard from the people who had attended the service. Then the former red-head turned around and gestured Angel to come over. Hesitantly, not really liking the idea that everyone would see him now, he approached them.

"What happened?" he demanded in a whisper, ignoring the curious looks.

"Tara is confused, Angel. She summoned the spirits of the dead and there are the ones of Faith and her husband, but she can't connect with Buffy. It never happened to her before."

The Wicca nodded her head in confirmation.

"What does that mean?" Angel wanted to know.

"I don't know," Tara's face wore an expression of helplessness. "I don't understand it. Buffy wasn't evil or anything. There is no explanation."

"What do you mean evil?" he narrowed his eyes. "Would there be an explanation if she'd been?"

"Technically, yes," the Wicca admitted, "An evil spirit, or evil soul can't be summoned. It's never at peace and for this doesn't react to holy summons."

"No," Angel shook his head emphatically and stepped back, anger flashing in his eyes, "You're not telling me she isn't at peace. She was the best person I've known. She saved mankind more times than we can count." His voice was rising slightly during his speech and more curious looks were directed to the three persons at the altar.

Soothingly Willow put a hand on the vampire's arm, "No. Of course we don't say that. I don't believe it either. But there has to be an explanation for this."

"Then better find it quickly, because I won't listen to this any longer."

"B-but," Tara stuttered and the vampire looked at her. "The p-problem is, we can't complete the ritual if I cannot summon her spirit."

"Then fake it. I won't have everyone in this room second-guessing Buffy. I won't." His voice was very firm. "Her grand-daughter is here for God's sake."

"B-but," Tara protested weakly.

"Do it," Willow took the vampire's side. "He's right. Complete the ritual. They don't understand it anyhow. So finish it and then we'll meet at my house. Anne will be staying there for now anyway. Maybe together we can find a way to explain it."

After a moment's hesitation Tara nodded and the vampire and the witch took their spots again. Approaching the person who stood in the back like himself he thought for a moment and then said, "Come to Willow's house after this. We have to talk."

Part 6

The tension was thick in Willow's living room about two hours later. While the old wiccas were sitting side by side on the sofa, both wearing concerned expressions, the vampire was pacing the room. Anne on the other hand sat on a chair and chewed her thumb-nail, deeply irritated with the things going on around her and even more as the others refused to tell her what was going on.

"But he said he would come," Willow asked for the fifth time.

"Yes," Angel snapped. Then he suddenly stopped and looked at her, "Sorry, Willow. I have no right to treat you like that."

"It's okay," she smiled. "I would pace too, if I were younger." He couldn't help but smile at that. She was still so sweet. "It upsets me deeply," the former red-head went on. "I mean this is so unfair. She's done nothing to...," she stopped when they heard a knock at the door. Would demons ever ring a bell, she wondered shortly and was about to get up, but Anne was quicker and was at the door before Willow could raise.

"Hi, who are you?"

"A friend," a male voice was to be heard.

"Let him in," Angel commanded from the living-room. "He's the one we're waiting for." When the person stepped into the room, the vampire raised a brow, "good to see that some things never change. Your taste in clothes left always something to be desired."

"Now, kiddo," Whistler grinned broadly, "no need to get insulting. I love my hat."

"I doubt it's the hat he was referring too," Anne muttered behind him and made Angel smile. Whistler wore denims that were two sizes too big and an old Hawaiian shirt. His shoes were old and worn ... on the whole he looked ridiculous as ever.

"And the two witches of course," the demon looked at Willow and Tara. "Hi, I'm Whistler."

"He's a good demon," Angel explained at the confused expressions of the women. "He works for the Powers That Be."

"Oh," Tara's eyes widened, while Willow smiled knowingly.

"Welcome in my house," she greeted him. "I hope you will have an explanation for this. You are aware of what happened before, I suppose."

"I am," Whistler replied with a nod.

"Will somebody please tell me what's going on here," Anne shouted annoyed. "And what on earth is a good demon? I thought they were evil," she glanced accusingly at Willow. The witch hadn't told her that.

With a sigh Willow explained to the young girl what had happened during the memorial service. Anne's eyes went wide and filled with tears when the witch was finished. "God, that really sucks," she exclaimed angrily. "I mean, Granny was a good person, a really good person. This isn't fair either." Shortly her eyes fixed on Angel who smiled in return. None of the others understood but they didn't ask.

"So would you now explain, what this is about?," the vampire asked impatiently. He'd always been annoyed with Whistler's attitude but now he was over that stage. He was on the edge.

"It's simple," the demon went over to a cupboard and poured himself a glass of Whisky, "Malt, wow, I'm impressed," he glanced at Willow.

"Whistler," Angel roared.

The demon sighed and sipped at his drink, "As I said, it's simple. She isn't at peace because her job isn't finished yet," he said matter-of-factly.

"What?" the vampire's voice wore a threatening undertone. Willow was instantly alarmed. She didn't like the fact either, but didn't look forward to get her living-room trashed because a vampire would try to kill a demon.

"Maybe we should all calm down," she looked at Angel who smiled apologetically and then at Whistler. "I really don't need your snappy attitude," she told him.

He raised his hands, "Sorry. Old habits die hard. I know you mourn a friend and frankly I miss her too. She was a damned good slayer, our Buffy."

"She was never your Buffy," Angel said through gritted teeth.

"Yeah, well. Where was I, oh yes. Her job isn't finished. There's still some business for her." He took the rest of his drink in one quick gulp and shuddered slightly. He had to be careful. The vampire wasn't in the mood to play games.

"I don't believe this," Angel began to pace again. "She's served them 25 years as a slayer, her husband died at the hands of a demon, we...," he paused and swallowed hard, "let's not go there. Not to forget that she died in a plane-crash and had to bury two of her children during her lifetime. Wasn't that enough already? Why can't they let her rest in peace?"

"Because it doesn't work that way," Whistler replied simply. "Don't kill the messenger, kiddo. I didn't make these decisions. I'm only telling you."

"But what do they need her spirit for?," Willow wanted to know.

"I can't tell you," the demon poured himself another glass of Whisky. Oh how he hated these jobs. He should ask his bosses for a raise.

"Can't or won't?" Angel asked with narrowed eyes.

"Can't," Whistler said. "They didn't tell me. That's not for us to know. These things will happen in the future and they won't let us interfere with the future. They're still angry for your nice little game, witch." He shot Willow a look and she blushed guiltily.

"I can't believe this is happening," Anne who had listened so far, threw her hands in the air and fell down in her chair. "It's like waking up in a fucking science-fiction movie."

"Anne, mind your words," Willow scolded gently.

"Oh, Auntie," Anne groaned. "We're all adults, well almost, but I haven't been raised in the ozone. And you," she pointed at Whistler, "do not only have no taste in clothes but are deeply annoying too and think you're sooo funny." She rolled her eyes.

"She doesn't like my jokes," Whistler said in fake disappointment, but instantly sobered when he saw the look Angel cast at him. "I really wish I could tell you more, but I don't know anything. But I do know, that you," he glanced at Anne, "will be called as a slayer tomorrow."

"Tomorrow," Willow shot up from the sofa. "B-but I thought it would be on her 18th birthday."

"Change of plans," the demon informed her and shrugged. "Not my doing. As we talk the current slayer in Oregon is going to die by the hands of a master vampire."

"Oh God," the witch whispered and lowered herself back down, gratefully smiling at Tara who took her hand comfortingly.

"The council is aware of the situation and the new watcher has already arrived in Sunnydale," Whistler added.

"Do you want to tell us that the Council knows when their slayers are going to die?" Willow asked incredulously.

Her only answer was a nod from the demon. Then he turned to Angel, "As the witch already told you, you are meant to stay with her. Help her as you did it with her Grandmother. And keep your hands off her."

"Whistler," Angel growled dangerously and took a step towards the demon who raised his hands in defense.

"No offense. Sorry, my friend. It's just good advice, you would probably be very sorry soon," he said.

"Cut the cryptic crap," the vampire was still trying to control his anger and narrowed his eyes again, "I don't know why but I think you know much more than you're telling us."

Quickly averting his eyes, Whistler cleared his throat, "No, I already told you, I don't."

Exchanging a glance with Willow Angel nodded after a moment, "Alright, we will let it be." When he saw the demon sigh in relief he added, "For now."

Part 7

8 months later.

"Goody," Anne exclaimed, when a vampire was reduced to dust by her stake. "The third for tonight." She glanced at Angel who was standing behind her and watching her progress in hand-to-hand combat.

"Not bad," he said after a moment

"Not bad?" she rolled her eyes, "come on, he was dust in about ten seconds. You could say, great Anne."

He gave her a slight smile, "I could, but it wouldn't be true. It was not bad, but this was a simple vampire. Quite young too, just raised from the grave. It was not a real test. You're already too good for him."

"There you said it. I'm good," she smiled proudly.

"I said you were too good for him," he corrected with a grin. He had grown fond of her. Buffy had been right, you couldn't be around her and not like her. And as much as she reminded him of her grand-mother there were many things thatwere pure Anne. The way she would roll her eyes, or the way her lips would twitch. That was her personality and not her grandmother's.

She narrowed her eyes, "You think you'll lose something if you give me a compliment."

"I will give you a compliment when you've earned it," he said earnestly. "And I already said it wasn't bad."

She sighed loudly and threw her hands in the air, "Fine, fine. But one day you will tell me I was good. I promise you that much."

He chuckled and followed her through the dark cemetery. As Whistler had told them Anne had been called the day after the memorial service. The new watcher's name was Darren Elliot, a man in his 40's who wasn't what they'd expected. To their surprise he was a bit like Giles. Open-minded and interested in everything Willow and Angel had told him. He was even relieved to hear that Anne already knew about her duties. He'd heard about Buffy, read some of her slayer diaries and seemed very impressed by her career as a slayer.

He gladly agreed to Angel helping Anne, being aware of Angel's role in Buffy's life. With gratitude he took the vampire's offer to train the new slayer in hand-to-hand combat, it would save him many bruises and pain. He also treasured Angel's and Willow's knowledge about prophecies, demons and was more than slightly interested in the former red-head's wiccan qualities. All in all he was the best thing that could've happened to Anne. The only thing that was different in him was the fact that he was married. His wife, Ellen, had been a watcher in training when he'd met her. Now she was supporting her husband, and as a result the slayer in any way possible. Over the eight months they'd become an interesting group that had their headquarters in Willow's house as the witch was old and not looking forward to meeting somewhere else.

"Angel," Anne interrupted his thoughts, "did you ever patrol with Buffy like this?" The girl was more and more referring to her Grandmother as Buffy now.

"Yes," he chuckled, "very often actually."

"Willow said you'd have been kissing then."

The vampire had to clear his throat, "Well..,"

"Oh don't be shy," she teased. "I mean I'm over 18 now. I can talk about these things."

"That's not what I mean. I just think it's a bit too private."

"Oh, Angel," she groaned, "You're no fun." She would never get used to his quiet and cryptic attitude she decided. Although it gave him that mystical air around him. If he'd have been human, the girls would've beaten each other to be near him.

He chuckled again, "I'm not here for your fun," he reminded her.

Sighing loudly, she stopped, "I know. Believe me, I know. You're here to annoy me with your comments about my slaying or your cryptic talks. Or to interrupt me in the middle of something nice, like say dancing with a really hot guy at my favourite club."

"Somehow this all sounds too familiar," he muttered, but she'd heard him.

"So Buffy was the same. You annoyed her too, there you see. Don't you think it's time to learn and grow up. I mean hey, it's been more than sixty years."

Instantly his good mood was gone, the teasing gleam replaced by the well known deep grief and Anne realised she'd made a fault. Reaching out with her hand she didn't dare to touch him, "I'm sorry. I know that you don't feel like this. For you she's still alive, isn't she?"

"Yes," he replied hoarsely.

"I didn't mean to hurt you," she said softly.

"I know," he looked at her, "it's not your fault, Anne. It's just ...," he trailed off unable to find the right words to explain his feelings.

"You miss her so much," she finished for him and could see the surprise in his eyes as if he couldn't believe her being so sensitive. "I've never been in love, you know," she said after a moment, "I had a crush here and there but that doesn't mean I'm some selfish brat."

"I know that," he replied quickly and then took a deep breath, "Now, maybe we should go back to Willow. Dermot has promised to come over."

"Dermot," she groaned.

"He is alright."

"I know," she sighed. "From what Willow told me it could've been worse, but he is soooo old." She heard the vampire chuckle beside her and grinned, "I know, you're older, but you don't look that way. That makes the whole difference. You might be 300, but when my friends at school see me with you they think you're my incredibly hot boyfriend, not some sort of," she threw her hands in the air, "I don't even know how to describe him."

"Dermot is a lot like Giles," he told her. "And he *is* alright. He always tries to give you enough space to enjoy the life of a teenager."

"Now you're lecturing me again," she groaned. "What have I done to earn this? Willow with her soft eyes that can kill with a glance, Dermot with his books and on top of all this you, who goes all wise on me." Suddenly a vampire jumped from behind the bushes and approached them with a growl. Anne stopped and reached behind her back to produce a stake, "Hey teeth-boy, just the distraction I need."

*

When they entered the house half an hour later they found Dermot, Ellen and Willow deep in conversation, but they all looked up when they saw Anne and the vampire.

"Four vamps tonight," the slayer told her watcher, who raised his brows at the witch.

"It's more than usual," he then said glancing back at the girl.

She just shrugged, "Well, four isn't that bad. But yeah, usually I've got one or two."

"Anything out of the ordinary?" Dermot's question was directed towards Angel.

"No," the vampire replied but was instantly alarmed by the look in the watcher's eyes. "Why?"

"We're not sure," Willow said with a sigh and gestured to Angel and Anne to help themselves to tea or coffee. She took a book and handed it over to Angel. "Read page 300 of this. It says something like a new demon coming, a dark age is before us ... all quite mysterious." She took the glasses from her nose and rubbed her eyes. The gesture was so much like Giles that Angel had to smile. He wouldn't have dreamt he'd ever think about Giles by looking at Willow.

"So you're going to tell me we have to face another prophecy or even an Armageddon?" Anne let herself fall in one chair and smiled at them unconcernedly. "Well, too bad for the demons. We might have to kill them."

"Your flippant attitude isn't helping," Dermot looked at her sternly.

"Yeah, but always thinking about the worst isn't either, right?" she shot back.

"Stop it you two," Willow gave both her resolve face. "We're researching a prophecy here and it's serious. Now," she gazed at the vampire. "Angel, what do you think about the text."

"Hmmm," the vampire looked up. "Oh sorry. Yes, you are right, it's a strange prophecy. Very unclear." He shook his head, "why didn't they ever try to write it the way they think it's going to be." He sighed loudly and leaned his tall frame to the wall. He'd never been fond of research and silently he longed for a messenger like Doyle or Cordelia. Everything had been so much easier if oneknew what to look for. "It says something about an Armageddon, but doesn't give the slightest hint for a date. There's only a mention of some demon coming to town before and then there's a passage I don't understand." He shook his head again and quoted, " 'The demon will challenge the slayer and after the slayer is defeated she will be stronger to avoid the Armageddon.' Can you explain that?"

Dermot sighed as well, "No," he drew a hand through his dark hair with the silver strands in-between and exchanged a loving smile with his wife. "That's the passage that really bugs me." He heard Anne laugh at his expression and grinned inwardly. He would never tell her about his wild young years, but he hadn't always been a watcher in a suit. "How can a slayer be defeated and then be stronger?" He made a helpless gesture with his hand and took another sip from his tea.

"Look," Anne gazed at the people in the room. "It seems as if we won't find out anything tonight. Is it alright for me to just go to my bed? I'm really beat." She glanced at the clock, no wonder she thought, it was after midnight.

"Of course," Willow gave her a smile. "Sleep tight."

"Yeah. You too." And with this she was out of the room.

The remaining people and the vampire exchanged concerned glances, until Dermot finally voiced their thoughts, "Whatever it means, I don't like it. We need to know more about it. I don't like the idea of sending my slayer into a battle like this." He looked at Angel, "Whatever backup she might have. But I intend to keep her alive and safe."

"But I'm really lost here. I mean, 'defeated', does that mean the slayer is going to die? And then this part about being stronger afterwards," Willow shook her head. "Maybe she's going to experience something like Buffy. She died too - shortly. She was revived, but she wasn't really stronger afterwards. Just horribly scared for a while."

"Hopefully not," Angel said after a moment of thinking. "Because I've still got no breath and Xander isn't around anymore."

Willow studied the vampire's face for a moment. He was really grateful to her childhood friend for saving Buffy's life. God, if Xander could've heard it, he would have burst with pride, she thought. Sure, he'd hated Angel for a while, resented him afterwards, but silently he'd admired him, although he would've never told anyone. "No, Xander isn't around anymore," she then said with a heavy sigh.

Part 8

4 weeks later

Anne was shivering in the cold breeze in the cemetery. They had all been afraid around her for days. She didn't know why, they'd found out more about that special demon the prophecy was referring to and now she and Angel waited to face this special creature.

She wasn't afraid. Why should she be? There was Angel with her and he would take care of her, as he'd done throughout the last nine months. She understood why her grandmother had been relying on him so much. He was completely reliable. Although she would never understand Buffy's attraction towards him. Sure, he was a hottie, but he was soooo old and a vampire. The thought of being with a vampire intimately made her shudder.

Not that he'd ever tried anything. He hadn't. He was like the older brother, always looking out for her, holding her when she was frustrated, sometimes also gently scolding her. She liked him. A lot actually, but she wasn't attracted to him. Luke on the other hand. A little sigh escaped her mouth. Luke was in college, two years her senior he was deadly attractive and she thought about him being the one to introduce her to carnal pleasures. She was 18 after all and in her eyes it was time. Most of her friends talked about their boyfriends and what they did with them, while she'd always shrug and avoid the subject as far as possible. Being the slayer wasn't good for a teenager's love-life.

"Are you ready?" Angel's voice interrupted her and turned to look at him.

"Of course," she played with the stake in her hand. With Angel training her she'd become better and better. She was strong, a little bit taller than Buffy, Angel had told her and with time she wanted to become as good as her grand-mother. "Let this ugly demon come." She could see him smile at her words. Often she wondered how often he thought about Buffy when he looked like this. Would he dream of her? And how were his dreams? It must have been interesting to see them together. Like watching a love right out of one of these sappy novels. Willow read them sometimes, she'd caught her with one of the books one evening.

Did she make him remember? He said she looked like Buffy. She knew it from pictures, but Angel certainly saw more. He could see behind the facade. Was there more of Buffy inside of her. Were there some gestures or things she said that brought memories back to him?

"I can hear something," the vampire suddenly warned her.

"Me too," she nodded and took a fighting-stance. Only a second later it was right in front of her. Dermott had told her it would be a strong Morah-demon. They were messengers of evil, sure sign of an upcoming darkness.

Without a warning the Morah attacked. It was a furious battle, Angel and Anne fighting side by side. The demon was strong and a trained fighter. Landing a roundhouse kick on his stomach, Anne quickly glanced at Angel, who was laying on the ground and shaking his head to get the daze out of it. The demon had smashed his head right into a trunk. "You okay?," she asked concerned.

"Fine, try to smash the jewel in it's head" he groaned. "Look out," he shouted and only the last minute she saw the demon's sword falling down on her. She rolled aside and grinned.

"Not fast enough, my ugly friend. Why on earth do all the demons have to be so ugly? Well at least the gem is pretty, but it'll be gone soon."

"A darkness is coming," the Morah announced and attacked again.

"Sure," she replied a bit breathless and landed another kick on his jaw. "For you anyway, that's certain."

With lightning speed the demon suddenly grabbed her neck and pressed on her windpipe, making her choke. "You're dead slayer," it hissed and then he smashed her into a headstone.

With horror in his eyes Angel realised that she didn't move anymore. He wanted to check on her, but the demon was attacking him now. "Vampire," it hissed.

Angel rolled away and grabbed the sword that had fallen from Anne's hands and with one swift movement he smashed the jewel of the upcoming Morah. It shuddered and died in an instant.

On his knees the vampire crawled over to the still unconscious girl laying on the ground, "Anne," his panic stricken voice was hoarse. "Oh God, Anne. Please." In an instant he realised she wasn't breathing, yet he could feel a faint pulse at her wrist. So she wasn't dead, but she needed CPR. Like a flash he though of Xander and Buffy in the caves. He couldn't give her air, but he could very well massage her chest. So he tore her jacket away and began to pump on her ribs rhythmically with both his hands. "Breathe," he ordered desperately, "come on, Anne. Breathe. You're strong, you can do that." Buffy had asked him to take care of her and he would do that. He wouldn't disappoint her.

First there was no reaction, but then suddenly her eyes flew open and she sucked a deep breath. He almost collapsed with relief, "Anne," tears welled up in his eyes.

For what seemed minutes she stared at him as if she'd never seen him before, then she began to cough, "Oh God," she groaned hoarsely, "Death really sucks. I hate that." A frown appeared on her forehead as if she tried to remember something, but it was gone soon. When she tried to sit up, Angel gave her a concerned glance.

"Easy, Anne. Does it hurt?"

"Like hell," she reached for her head but was relieved when she couldn't find any blood. "It was strong."

"Yes. Very strong. Morah's are strong. I once met one. Your Grandmother and I fought it," he said with a slight smile. The Buffy-smile Anne called it. He stood up and held out his hand.

With a smile she took it and got up. They stood near to each other for a moment and Angel could feel his mouth go dry. He was still holding onto her hand and instantly let go of her as if he'd burnt himself. What the hell was going on here? he thought.

"Are you alright?" she asked seeing him frown at her. "Do you hurt?"

"No," he replied after a moment and stepped back desperately hoping she wouldn't notice his instant erection. "I'm fine," he gave her a smile, although he felt not at all like it. "And you?", he asked but didn't listen to her answer. He was too busy trying to understand what was going on with him. He knew that extreme situations could trigger extreme reactions but this? It had to be their life and death situation. There was no other explanation for his sudden desire for this girl. She hadn't even attracted him until now. Shaking his head in disbelief and frustration he looked at her again. "We should go back. I'm sure they're waiting for us."

"Sure," she nodded and began to walk.

Was there anything different about her he wondered and watched her while they made their way to Willow's house. Did she move differently? No, he couldn't see anything. Then why on earth did he feel different all of a sudden. Maybe because he thought her dead and had thought about Buffy and how she'd feel about his failure to protect her. Yes, that had to be the reason. The relief that she wasn't dead after all.

"Angel?" she asked and he felt it again. God, get a hold on yourself, he scolded inwardly.

"Yeah?"

"What did he mean about the darkness coming. What do you think?" Suddenly she stopped and frowned. Her eyes wore an expression of utter confusion.

He stopped as well and gazed at her, "What?"

"I...," she raised her head again, "I don't know. There was something, a sudden picture in my head. I didn't understand it, but.."

"Maybe it's a slayer-feeling. Slayers - some of them - have prophetic dreams and some of them can be psychic," he explained.

"No," she shook her head, "It was a ...," she shook her head again and suddenly smiled, "It's gone now." She took a deep breath. "Maybe because that demon smashed me into the headstone."

"Probably," he gave her a smile. Hell, he wanted to touch her and hold her. What was going on? This question repeated again and again in his head. Something had changed. But what? Could there be something like an instant attraction after more than nine months? He'd never experienced something like this. When he was attracted to woman it had always been instantly and strong. So why did it happen now and with Anne of all possible women? And more importantly what could he do about it. He would never, not ever, betray Buffy. And certainly not with her grand-daughter. Never. He had to get a hold on himself. The soon the better.

He couldn't just run away. That would be the coward's way, but he wasn't a coward. Had never been one. And for God's sake an over 300 year old vampire would find a solution to this ... this mess. Maybe he could ask Willow ... but no, he would never tell Willow that he had these kinds of feelings for Buffy's grand-daughter. And maybe, just maybe it would go away after a good night's rest, when everyone was at ease again and relaxed. Yes a certain part of his should relax soon, he thought and groaned inwardly.

He was more than glad when they reached Willow's house and Anne went to bed after some minutes. They discussed the Morah demon for some time and then decided that they would meet again the day after tomorrow to talk about everything and to decide what to do next. That left Angel alone in the basement of Willow's house with his thoughts, his own personal demons and a long, cold shower.

Go to Part 9