Part 9

Angel didn't sleep at all that night. He was lying awake in his bed in Willow's basement and his thoughts were running wild. The hope he would forget about it after a while was a false one. He could only think of her. The way she moved, the way she looked at him, the way she smelled ... she smelled? He stopped and a sudden frown appeared on his forehead. Had there been something different in the way she smelled?

Shaking his head, he put his arm over his eyes and groaned. It was already sunrise and still he hadn't found a solution for this problem. How was he supposed to act around her now. He could clearly remember the feeling of her hand in his. The warmth that had instantly gone through his body. The boiling feeling in his veins, the reactions of his loins. He groaned again. Maybe it was another way to test him. His self-control that was. Sure he had lots of it, you didn't become a more then 300 year old vampire without self-control, at least not one with a soul. His alter ego hadn't had very much self-control, but the ensouled version had to learn a lot about it.

He turned in his bed and came to lie on his left side. He could feel the sun outside. Maybe he should just get up and step into it. He was pitiful. There was no other way for a person who lusted after the grand-daughter of the love of his life. Pitiful and disgusting. That's what he was.

Everything had been fine. They'd worked together smoothly. She'd trained with him, they had been near to each other with her body sweaty, panting with the exercise and not for one second had he felt anything but brotherly for her and now everything had changed. With the attack of a simple demon his world was in turmoil. Groaning again he buried his face in his pillows. He would just sleep through the day and hope against hope that everything would be better tonight.

*****

Willow instantly noticed the dark shadows under Anne's eyes when she entered the living-room in the morning. It was Saturday and for that no school.

"Deary," she greeted the girl she loved like her own, "didn't you sleep well?"

Anne yawned and looked at the witch, "No. It was so strange. I had dreams ... strange dreams."

Willow was instantly alarmed, "Prophetic dreams?"

The slayer groaned, "Now you sound like Angel," she said and to her own distress she felt something warm in her stomach at mentioning his name. First the dreams and now... she shook her head. "He told me some slayers had prophetic dreams and some were psychic." Seeing the former red-head's puzzled gaze she explained, "Yesterday, you know. When we went home, after, well after the events with the Morah demon, I suddenly had pictures in my head. But I couldn't get a hold on them. They were gone so quickly that I didn't know what they meant." She paused and looked at Willow, then added, "Angel was in them." Again that warm, tingly feeling inside of her. What the hell was going on?

"Angel?" the witch raised a brow. "And the dreams? What were they about?"

"They weren't clear, you know. Just images, pictures. I saw you in them, but you were much younger, Buffy, she was a girl about my age. Angel. Then Xander, I think. You know, granny showed me his pictures. And Cordelia, again I think, because I can only remember her from when I was very young and she very old while in my dreams she was ... well, young. It's irritating. I never had these dreams. Do you think it could mean anything?"

Willow thought about it for a moment but then shook her head, "I don't know. Maybe it's just a slayer-thing. I mean you almost died yesterday and this might have triggered the dreams. The images in your head. Slayers are more complicated than you know. Your grand-mother learned a lot with the years."

"It's just ... it confuses me. I'm also scared. What if I lose my mind? What if my head injury was worse than we thought?"

To her surprise Willow laughed, "I don't think so." She reached out and touched the girl's head. "There isn't even a lump or anything. Slayer healing and all. No, I'm sure there is a perfectly normal explanation for the dreams. All we have to do is understand them. Maybe you should talk about Dermot with them and Angel. Tomorrow when we meet."

"Not tonight?"

"No, not tonight, silly. Remember, Angel's patrolling alone, so that you can go to your friend's birthday party?" The witch laughed when she saw Anne's puzzled expression.

Then the girl slapped her forehead, "I almost forgot about it. Karen has her party today at the Crush. So a free night for little ole' me! Now, I'm starving and really need coffee."

"Coffee?" Willow raised her brow. "You're drinking tea, aren't you?"

"Do I? Well," she shrugged. "Now it's coffee. I need the caffeine."

******

"I'm so glad you could make it," Karen said excitedly the same night. "You're always so busy and I was afraid you wouldn't come."

"Hey, you're my best friend," Anne playfully punched Karen in her ribs. "I would never forget about your birthday party. And I'm glad you like the necklace."

"It's lovely. I never knew you were interested in Celtic design," her friend said.

The slayer shrugged, "Thought it was nice."

"Hey," Karen took Anne's hand. "I even invited Luke. He's over there. And you're right he is sooo hot."

"Hmmm," the slayer made absentmindedly. "What?" She asked when her friend punched her playfully. Karen's face wore an irritated expression. Her green eyes were puzzled and she was playing with her ebony black hair.

"Luke. The college-guy you were so crazy about. He's over there," she pointed at a corner where a blond young man was joking with some friends. From time to time his gaze wandered to the two girls in the opposite corner of the club and he was smiling then.

"Oh Luke, yeah," Anne gave her friend an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry. Didn't sleep well last night. Well, yeah, I think Luke is hot. Hmmm. Nice."

"Nice?” Karen's eyes widened in astonishment. "Hey is that the same Anne in there who told me he is *the* hottie and that you could lose your virginity to him?"

The slayer sighed, "Okay, he is good-looking. So what? And lose my virginity to him. Oh, please. There are certainly better opportunities." Was Karen going insane? What should be so special about a blonde, college-football player? He was just the average guy. Angel on the other hand ... the thought hit her to the core and she momentarily forgot how to breathe.

"Better opportunities?" the black-haired girl couldn't believe her ears and eyes. There was her best friend Anne, who had been completely crazy about Luke Warring and now she didn't seem interested at all. There could only be one explanation, "You've got another guy."

"What?" Anne's head snapped around. She was still trying to control the rapid beating of her heart.

"Oh come on. You were lusting after Luke for months and all of a sudden he's like thin air for you. There has to be another." She paused and studied her friend's face for a moment. "Is it the guy I saw you with the other night? You know the dark, tall one. How did you say was his name? I know it was something really unusual."

"Angel," the slayer replied in a dreamy voice. "His name is Angel. He has the most beautiful eyes and his hands ...," she trailed off and after a second her eyes shot open wide. Oh God, where did that come from. She was thinking about Angel - romantically???? - Anne, you're going insane. Maybe something did happen to her head last night. Hadn't she thought that thinking about Angel intimately was disgusting. But how could she? He was so attractive. His mouth was well shaped, his lips full and made for kissing. Kissing???? Inwardly groaning she looked into Karen's knowingly smiling face. "What?"

"It is him. Oh, Anne. Why didn't you tell me?"

"Tell you what? That's nonsense," she said angrily. "Angel is a friend, a good friend. He's like ... like my older brother."

"Sure," Karen grinned and took a sip from her soft drink. "Try to fool yourself, but I know better."

Narrowing her eyes, Anne shot her friend a deadly look. Then she tossed her head and headed over to Luke. Maybe he would like to dance with her after all.

*****

"How was patrol?" Willow wanted to know, when Angel returned shortly before midnight.

"Uneventful," he replied shortly and then sighed. "Seems that vampire activity has gone down again after Morah's death yesterday." Trying to sound casually he asked, "Anne in bed already?" The truth was, the whole evening he couldn't think about anything else but the girl.

The witch had to laugh at that, "Oh God, no."

"Still out then?"

"Of course," Willow grinned, "Angel you're behaving like her father. She's over eighteen, she's at her best friend's birthday-party and there's this obviously hot guy she's crazy about..."

Angel's head jerked up, "Hot guy?" His eyes were narrowed dangerously. "And you think this is alright?" His voice was sharper than intended and he winced inwardly at that.

"Oh Angel, Buffy was seventeen when she slept with you."

"That's different," he snapped.

"Oh?" Willow looked at him innocently. "And pray why?"

"We were in love," Angel replied stubbornly. "That's different."

"And why do you think she and Luke aren't," the witch wanted to know. The vampire was behaving strangely. Sure, he'd been protective about Anne from the start, but now. If she didn't know he was eternally in love with Buffy, she would've thought he was jealous. She had to laugh at her strange train of thoughts, Angel jealous of Anne, laughable. But still... "Angel?" she gave him a curious look.

"What?" he snapped. "I'm just concerned. Willow, listen. I need to go out for a while. I'll be back before sunrise." And with a typical flap of his duster he was gone.

The witch leaned back in her seat and tried to understand what was going on.

Part 10

Walking the night streets Angel was silently discussing if he was going insane. The mere thought of Anne in the arms of another man almost sent him over the edge. This had to be insanity. There was no rational explanation for it.

The worst part however had been his dreams. He'd expected to dream about Anne, he'd expected lusty, sweaty images but nothing. Instead he had been dreaming about Buffy. Holding her, kissing her, laughing with her, making love to her, again and again. And even now his soul cried out for her while his body lusted after her grand-child. If that wasn't insanity...

He'd experienced wild things, strange things, but this was beyond everything. Maybe he projected his longing for Buffy onto Anne. He'd read about these things. For some years he'd found pleasure in reading psychology stuff and he could remember about projecting feelings. Could this be the explanation?

Could it explain the sudden pang of jealousy, the urge to pummel that unknown "hot guy", Anne was lusting for. She shouldn't think about another guy. The only guy she should think about ... oh no, not again, he groaned inwardly. Now he didn't even want to allow her to think about another. He wasn't stupid, this went beyond mere sexual attraction. And it scared him to death. Or un-death that was.

Desperately he tried to find a reason. It couldn't be. Buffy was the love of his life. Buffy was the person he would love and cherish until the day he'd become dust. He was sure he would die this way one day. He wasn't believing in the prophecy Wesley had once translated anymore. It wasn't even important anymore, now that Buffy was dead, but there was still Anne, another part of his mind whispered. No, no, no, he cried inwardly in desperate denial. He couldn't feel this way. No way would he betray his love for Buffy.

Blinking he stopped. He was standing in front of the "Crush", *the* favourite club in Sunnydale for young people. Unconsciously his feet had carried him here. He shook his head in disbelief. This was even worse than he'd thought. Now he was following her.

Stalking.

Be honest with yourself, Angel. You're stalking the girl. Consciously or not, but there is no other word for it. Before his rational part realised it he was in the club. The light was dim and he carefully stayed in the dark corners, surveying the dance-floor and the tables and then his blood began to boil. There she was. In the arms of another. And all his rational thinking, all his desperate denial flew right out of the window. He wanted to rip that guy apart for touching what was his.

And Anne shouldn't enjoy being with this ... this jerk.

"Hey, do you want to dance?"

His head jerked around and he was blindly staring at a red-haired girl in her twenties. She was pretty and obviously trying to flirt with him. "No," he replied in a sharp voice.

She raised her hands and rolled her eyes, "Alright, alright. No need to get angry. It was just a question." Walking away from him, he could hear her mutter, "Guys get weirder every day."

He took a deep breath to calm down. The whole situation was spiralling out of control quickly. He could feel his hands tremble in distress, when he saw a black-haired girl walking over to him. He remembered having seen her with Anne the other night. "Hey aren't you Angel?" she asked with a smile.

"Yeah, Karen, right?"

Her eyes lit up, "You remember my name. Anne didn't tell you'd come. It's my birthday party, you know. But you're always welcome." She took his arm. "Come on, Anne will be pleased. We talked about you", she said with a wink.

Confused Angel looked at her, "What were you talking about me?"

"Never mind," she grinned. "Don't you want to come and sit at our table. Anne will be back soon. Come on."

He let her pull him with her, too confused to do anything against it. The girls had been talking about him

"See there they come," Karen pointed towards an approaching couple and only at the last second Angel could prevent himself from growling.

"Angel?" Anne's eyes widened in surprise when she saw the vampire sitting at the table with her friend.

His reply was a short nod.

"What are you doing here? Did something happen on pat ... I mean is something wrong, with Willow?" she corrected herself.

"No," he shook his head. "Everything's fine. I just thought I should give my best wishes to your friend on her birthday."

"Thanks," Karen turned towards him and beamed. The light was much better at the table and for the first time Angel saw the bracelet on the girl's wrist.

His hand shot out to touch it, "Where did you get that from?," he asked, his voice urgent. It was a bracelet with a Claddagh-symbol in it.

"Anne gave it to for my birthday," Karen explained happily. "Isn't it beautiful?"

"Yes, beautiful," he confirmed but his eyes wandered to Anne. Something was very wrong. In all the nine months that he knew her the girl had never ever showed any interest for Celtic symbols or history. When he'd told her that he came from Ireland, all she'd said had been 'it's a small island somewhere in Europe right'. He had laughed at her comment, but now she would give her friend something like that? Alright it could be a coincidence, things like these one could buy everywhere, but still it was strange

The slayer looked at the man beside her. He was tall, his hair was fair blonde and he had green eyes. "Angel, this is Luke, Luke this is Angel ... my ... uh ... a friend of my ... uhm ... family."

"Oh," Luke extended a hand to the vampire, "Nice to meet you."

Angel didn't bother to take the offered hand. No way he would touch that man. Jealousy was burning hot in his stomach, knotting his gut painfully.

"I just offered Anne to take her home," Luke said with a grin at the girl in his arm, ignoring the behaviour of the man he thought being a relative.

Taking her home? No way! "No", Angel almost shouted, then cleared his throat in embarrassment. "I mean. There's no need for it. She can come with me."

"But," Luke wanted to argue when Anne put a hand on his arm.

"No, it's alright. Angel can take me. He's going there anyway. Stay and enjoy the party. Karen, I really have to go. I'm dead tired." She yawned

"Sure," Karen gave her a smile. "It was nice to meet you Angel," she said to the vampire and her gaze went back and forth between her friend and the dark-haired man. Anne could say what she wanted, but there were definitely sparks flying between them.

"You too," the vampire got up and looked at Anne. "Let's go."

The slayer waved a hand at Luke and Karen, "Bye then."

*

They were walking in silence for a while before Anne suddenly said, "Sooo, what was the real reason you came tonight?"

"What?" Angel asked as casually as possible. There was no way he'd let her know what was going on inside of him. She would scream and run away.

She shrugged, "I just think that it's rather strange. You never came to the Crush before and tonight you show up like this."

He stopped and looked at her. "Like what?"

"I don't know. As if you wanted to rip Luke apart. Something like that." She gazed at him expectantly and heard the his sharp intake of breath.

Narrowing his eyes he watched her face, "He isn't good for you," he said and turned to walk again.

"Not good for me, huh?" her temper was rising unwillingly, "And who are you to tell me who is good for me and who not? Are you my father? No! My brother? No! So keep away from my business," she hissed.

"Your business," he echoed. "He had his hands all over you." Stop it, Angel, stop it, he scolded himself. This is sheer madness. You were involved with her grand-mother. But wasn't it madness with Buffy too. Oh God, now he actually started to find excuses to get involved with Anne?!

"And?" her eyes were narrowed angrily too. "I'm a legal adult. It's my business and mine alone whose hands are on me or not. If I want a guy to fuck me, it's my decision," she shouted

At that moment something in Angel snapped. Acting on pure instinct he reached for her and crushed her to him. His mouth searching hungrily for hers, pressing her body as close as possible. His tongue demanded entrance into her mouth not leaving space for discussion.

Almost like a reflex she slung her arms around his neck and opened her mouth for him. A moan escaped her throat when she felt the passion pulsing through her. Yes, her body and soul screamed. Yes, this was so right, this was the real thing. Anne was far beyond rational thinking. She was melting in his arms, drowning in sheer bliss to be so near to him. She had never known love before but in an instant she knew it had to be exactly like this. She couldn't get enough of him, wanted more, wanted everything.

His hands were roaming over her body, touching her through her shirt, seeking for contact.

Somewhere in the depth of his mind something began to whisper. First it was faint, but became stronger with every passing second, with every touch, every kiss, every moan from her. This feeling was so familiar, so blissfully familiar. He didn't want to feel it, but was helpless not to. His soul was reaching out for the girl in his arms, desperately seeking contact with it's other half.

"Buffy," he moaned into her mouth.

Instantly consciousness kicked in and panic surged through his body. With wide, horrified eyes he jumped away from her as if she was on fire. She stood there, panting, her eyes blazed over with desire and passion, not able to understand what just had happened.

"Angel?" Anne barely recognized her voice. It was so different.

"No," came the panic-stricken reply from the vampire. "This is wrong," he said desperately. "We cannot do this. I cannot. Oh God, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. Forgive me. God, forgive me," he repeated again and again.

"Angel?" she repeated, not understanding and struggling with her own feelings. She felt a little shaky herself, like a movie there were images rushing through her head. Images she couldn't place or understand. Voices, faces, events she couldn't remember, but they seemed so familiar. "I... Angel, what is happening to us?"

"I don't know," he didn't have an answer. "All I know is that I have to stay away from you. I cannot do this. I'm sorry, but I won't betray Buffy. And certainly not with her own grand-daughter."

"But she is dead," Anne cried in despair.

"Don't say this. She isn't dead, not for me. I felt," suddenly his eyes widened again. "You weren't breathing and then ... oh God, oh dear God," he whispered, not believing, not daring to believe what now seemed so obvious to him. What would explain everything.

"What?" she demanded. "Tell me what you think. I don't understand what's going on," her voice was rising with every word. He could see she was utterly confused and even hurt.

"I cannot tell you. Not now. First I have to ... Anne, we should go home. I have to talk to Willow," his voice became urgent and he took her hand. With this touch he reached out for her again. But he had to be sure, he had to know for certain before he could tell her. "Come on. Willow's certainly waiting for us."

With this he began to walk leaving her to follow completely and utterly confused.

Part 11

Anne sat in her classroom staring into space. Somehow she couldn't shrug off the feeling that she didn't belong here. It was as if she was cut into two halves. As if there were two parts struggling inside of her and she couldn't get a hold on. She'd actually looked forward to school on Monday. Seeing Karen, laughing with her, but now she hated it. It didn't get her mind off the weekend.

Soon after they'd arrived at Willow's house Angel had disappeared into the basement and avoided her for the rest of the weekend. Once or twice she'd found him whispering with the former red-head, but as soon as he'd spotted her he'd left the room. He obviously hated her for what had happened the night of Karen's birthday. And maybe he hated himself even more for wanting her, for giving in to passion and desire.

But oh, it had felt so right. So wonderful as if finding the second half of her. And she knew for sure that she would never find the same with anyone else. It had always been like this. She'd known it all her life ... whoa, where had that thought come from? She could feel the blood drain from her face trying to evaluate this special image. Her and Angel close to each other, hugging each other. But the woman in his arms wasn't really her. It was ... God, now she started even during the day seeing him with her grandmother. Was this a foul play of her conscience to tell her it was wrong to feel that way?

But why would her whole being cry out for him then? Every fibre in her body felt drawn to him. The mere thought of being separated from him, being refused by him caused pure agony. She had to make him see it wasn't wrong. How could something be wrong that felt so wonderful, so right? She would make him see, yes tonight she would talk to him and make him see.

*****

In Willow's house at the same time Tara and the former red-head set everything up for a familiar ritual. Willow had thought Angel was crazy at first when he had approached her on Saturday to contact Tara for another soul summoning ritual, but his voice had sounded so urgent and so pleading at the same time, that she'd given in. Even if she didn't understand what he was hoping to get from this she could see the deep pain and confusion in his eyes. And she could understand him. The thought of Buffy's soul not being at peace made her sick too.

"I... I'm ready," Tara said hesitantly after a moment. She was dressed in a white gown and had set up her candles and the herbs she needed. "We can do it now."

"Good," Angel had been pacing the room all the time. He was impatient and very agitated. Now he stopped at looked at the witches, "I'm very grateful for this. I just ... well," he seemed to think about something, but then decided otherwise, "just let's get started. I don't want Anne to run into this."

"Sure," Willow nodded, understanding that he didn't want to burden the girl with the experience.

Tara began to chant and lit her scented candles. Willow burnt the herbs in a pot and smiling slightly she explained to Angel that she'd found a way to make them smell better. He didn't even blink at her, too concentrated on what was going on. Tara spoke softly and recited the lines from her memory. She'd become one of the most experienced wiccas in the country. Many people contacted her to help them and even in her advanced age she was used to traveling long distances. So she hadn't hesitated to follow Willow's plea.

After a minute she stopped chanting and shook her head sadly, "I'm sorry. It still doesn't work. Her spirit, her soul, doesn't react."

To both witches' surprise Angel just nodded and seemed deep in thoughts. Then he raised his head and looked at them. He spoke slowly, but his voice was firm, "Then I have another plea. A request. Could you," he talked to Tara but his eyes were on Willow now, "could you summon Anne's spirit instead?"

"WHAT?" the former red-head shouted in disbelief and shock. "What are you talking about? Angel this isn't some funny game. Don't you trust Tara, do you want to test her?"

"No," he shook his head emphatically. "I can't explain this, not now. Maybe later. Please."

"B-But I c-can't summon a s-spirit of a l-living human b-being," Tara was pale as a sheet. What shocked her even more was the determination in Angel's voice. She didn't know the vampire very well, had seen him only during his visits with Buffy all these years ago and then at the memorial service but so far she'd thought of him as a reasonable person.

"You must be mad," Willow looked at the vampire in disgust. "What's behind all this? I'm not going to do..."

"Willow," his voice sounded desperate, "please trust me in this. I don't want to say anything. There are things ... some things happened with ... with Anne ... and me," he ran his hand over his face and then through his hair. This was so hard, "I cannot explain it right now. I need to know first. I need to know for sure!" His desperate, pleading tone had changed into demanding.

"M-maybe w-we just d-do it," Tara laid a soothing hand on her friend's arm. "I-it won't h-harm her."

Willow gazed at her and then at Angel. If looks could kill Angel would've been disintegrated right now. But then something like defeat entered her eyes and her shoulders slumped, "Alright," she said with a sigh. "But you will explain later."

"I will," Angel replied eagerly. "I promise."

"O-okay," Tara turned and started the ritual again. She lit her candles and Willow burnt the herbs. She was like in trance for ten minutes and when she turned back to two other people in the room she was even paler than before.

"What?" Willow demanded, while Angel surprisingly seemed to relax, somehow knowing what the Wicca would say.

"H-how d-did you know?" Tara asked him hoarsely.

"I knew, I just wanted to be hundred percent certain," he said simply.

She just nodded and turned towards Willow who looked at her impatiently. "It worked," she told her. "I could summon Anne's spirit."

All blood drained from Willow's face and with a little cry she sunk down on a near by chair, while a shaking hand was covering her mouth. Silence stretched in the room, until she finally asked Angel with tearful eyes, "What happened?"

He kneeled down in front of her, "I'm not sure. You remember that I told you she stopped breathing after the Morah-demon attacked her." When he saw Willow nod he continued, "shortly afterwards, no, immediately after this our relationship ... changed. I touched her and it was ... like electricity bolting through me. It had never been like this before with Anne. I saw her as a daughter, I liked her, even loved her, but never ... not once ... felt sexually attracted to her. All of a sudden that had changed."

He got up and began to pace the room again, unable to not move. Shortly glancing at Tara, who was listening as well, he went on, "It almost drove me crazy. I didn't want to be attracted to her. She was Buffy's grand-child and I was lusting after her. I was disgusted by my body's reactions, the desire I suddenly felt for her. First I tried to convince myself it had just been a reaction to the danger, but soon I had to accept it wasn't that way."

Angel stopped and took a deep breath, facing the two wiccas again, "You remember the evening you told me she was with a guy. It almost drove me over the edge to think of another one touching her. I left the house, honestly discussing my sanity when I almost unconsciously arrived at the Crush, that's the club they were to celebrate her friend's birthday," he explained for Tara. "I went in and had to summon every bit of my self-control not to storm onto the dance-floor and rip the guy apart."

He sighed and shook his head, letting out an unhappy laugh, "We left shortly afterwards and she was mocking me for behaving like a jealous lover and ...," he bowed his head in embarrassment, "something inside of me snapped and I ... I kissed her. It was like a thunderstorm." Looking up again, he took a spot on one of the sofas, "I can't even explain it. It was as if floodgates in my soul were opening and my spirit reached out for hers ... and found it. I was shocked at first, horrified to find the same things in Anne that I had in Buffy, but then suddenly it was like curtains torn from my mind. I just knew."

Willow stared at him for a long moment and then said slowly, "What you're telling us is that it's Buffy's soul inside Anne's body?"

He nodded in confirmation, "Yes. Don't ask me why, but I just knew. The moment we were kissing there was no way denying it anymore."

"Oh God," the former red-head's eyes shimmered with tears. "The morning after the fight with the demon she told me she'd dreamt about Buffy and you," she told them, "she said there had been so many images in her head, she couldn't place. She told me she'd seen Xander and Cordy when they were young. You and Buffy kissing." She shook her head, not able to process what she now began to believe.

"She gave her friend a bracelet for her birthday. It had a Claddagh symbol on it," Angel added this piece of information. "Anne was just laughing about these things, but Buffy," his voice almost broke, "Buffy would've known."

"B-but why?" Tara was believing but not understanding.

Helplessly Angel moved his shoulders, "I don't know. I cannot tell you." But suddenly a look of determination entered his eyes, "But I know a person who can. Willow, tell Anne ... Buffy ... well, tell her I had to leave town. I have to find Whistler. He's the only one to explain this. I need to contact him and get him here. And don't tell her. Try to act as normally as possible. We have no idea what side-effects this has. How she would react if we just confront her with the truth. She still acts more like Anne. Maybe Whistler can explain that too." His hands clenched into fists, "Somehow I have a feeling he knew right from the start."

Part 12

Tense silence hang over Willow's living-room a week later. It was late evening and already dark. Angel had called earlier to inform them that at last he'd gotten a hold of Whistler and they'd arrive soon. He hadn't evaluated anything on the phone, but his voice had lingered with barely controlled rage. Willow had told Dermot and Ellen about their new found knowledge and after a short hesitation the watcher was believing her now. His wife however was still a bit uncertain. Yet she was willing to listen and learn.

Dermot had sent the slayer away because Angel had asked for it. So Anne/Buffy was on a long patrol through Sunnydale's cemeteries looking for a certain demon Dermot had made up for tonight. The vampire wanted to really understand what was going on before he would tell the slayer. He knew that this sort of information could easily crack her.

From regular calls with Willow throughout the week of his absence he knew that Anne/Buffy's dreams had increased up to an amount where she would wake up screaming the names of her friends or Angel's as well as the ones of her children. One particular night she'd woken up and told a concerned Willow every detail when Buffy had found her second husband decapitated by a demon.

Furthermore it seemed to have irritated her deeply that Angel had left the house without an explanation or a good-bye. She couldn't understand her growing feelings towards him and felt rejected that he'd gone away after kissing her so passionately.

Willow had also noticed increasing changes in her habits, like drinking coffee in the morning, something Anne wouldn't have done, but what was so typical Buffy. Besides this she would add pieces of information when talking with Dermot, things that only Buffy could've known. On the other side she seemed to start forgetting things connected to Anne's life. Like phone-numbers of her friends. All in all the girl's confusion grew and the concerned witch was glad that Angel was coming back tonight.

The hesitant knock on the door announced his presence and only seconds later he and Whistler stood in the living-room which felt overcrowded all of a sudden.

"Glad you're back," Willow greeted the vampire she saw as her friend. "And?" She looked at him expectantly, while Tara's face wore a calm expression. Dermot and Ellen seemed both restless. Especially the watcher's wife who was constantly fidgeting with the hem of her shirt.

Angel introduced Whistler to the watcher and his wife and explained his connection to the Powers That Be, adding that the demon hadn't told him anything so far.

With a shrug Whistler grinned, "Don't like to repeat myself," he said as if it would explain everything. A slight growl from Angel was the only reaction. The vampire was fed up with the demon by now. Not only that it had been tough to track him down, but then he had refused to talk until they were in Sunnydale.

"Where is the little slayer?" the demon wanted to know.

"We sent her on patrol," Willow replied.

"It's not necessary for her to hear this. She's confused enough as it is. Hopefully I will find a way to break the news to her gently," Angel said without looking at Whistler. He was afraid that he would rip him apart if he did.

"Now," Whistler helped himself to a glass of his favourite Malt Whisky and settled on a comfortable seat. "My friend Angel here has already told me what he's suspecting. That Anne's soul has been replaced with Buffy's. The answer to the question is a simple YES."

Although already knowing about it Willow's and Tara's eyes went wide, while the watcher and his wife stayed calm this time. Angel on the other hand turned round in a swift motion and his eyes shot daggers at the demon. "And why, pray tell me, couldn't you tell me before. I think a yes isn't too much to repeat."

Whistler sipped from his drink and gave him a slight smile. "Because you would've wanted to whole story then and it's quite long and complicated."

The vampire just narrowed his eyes at this, but didn't say anything.

"Then tell us," Willow demanded. "What does this all mean?"

The demon took a deep breath and put his glass down. "I know that you're already familiar with the Karan-prophecy, about a slayer being defeated and then stronger to prevent the Armageddon." When he saw everyone nod, he continued, "Believe me, I really don't like this. Being the messenger I mean, but the Powers rarely ask for what I wish." He slightly shook his head, "The plan was formed when it appeared that Buffy was the strongest slayer in history. Of course she was only human and so wouldn't live forever.

"Anyway. The PTB already knew about the upcoming Armageddon. It's really very near. But still Buffy, even if she'd be alive, would be too old to fight. So they took care that her grand-child which would be in the right age-bracket to have a fit and trained body and would look like her..."

"You mean they planned to kill Anne from the beginning? She was never meant tolive longer than 18?" Willow asked with tears in her eyes.

"As sad as it is, but yes and no. For this you have to understand fate. It was Anne’s fate to live only 18 years. Things like these are made up at the moment a person is born, sometimes even earlier. Anyway, knowing this they made Anne, as I already told you, much like her grandmother," Whistler confirmed. "I don't like it either, but please remember I'm only the messenger. Yeah, well, where was I, oh yes. So Buffy died together with her daughter and son-in-law. Their time had come anyway. Nothing could've prevented it, so don't dwell on it.

"The hardest part for them was to keep Buffy's soul in shape, if you want to call it that way until the body needed was free. That was the reason Angel was needed in Sunnydale, to train Anne and to get the body in shape for a slayer's soul as experienced as Buffy's."

At the sound of a sharp intake of breath they all turned to Angel who had vamped out and whose eyes gleamed yellow in the dim light of the room. "This is so sick," he hissed through his prolonged canines. "The sickest thing I've ever heard. You're telling me that the body of a young girl has just been used for the greater Good, so Anne would live 18 years only to give her body shell to the soul of her Grandmother. God, how can you look at yourself." Disgust dripped from his voice, "And I thought the Devil was cruel." He turned away again, but Willow could see his hands were trembling with rage.

A rage she knew was reflected in her eyes too. She didn't trust her voice at the moment so she didn't say anything.

Dermot finally voiced the words everyone was thinking, "But why?"

"Because they needed a slayer with a young trained body, but as experienced as Buffy and as good. She never died at the hands of a demon. She was retired. The first slayer in history to do so. But she would've had difficulties to adjust to a completely different body. So they made her grand-daughter like her. But not only the body, the mind too. Anne is ... was free-spirited and courageous." He shrugged, "It's really that simple."

Before anyone could blink Angel had pulled the demon out of his chair and was now pressing him to the wall. "Simple, huh?," his voice was low and dangerous. "You think this is simple? Did you ever - only a second - think what will happen if Buffy's soul regains her memory. She will have to live with the fact that all the people she's cared about are dead, she will have to live with the memory. But worse she will have to live with the fact that she's alive because she uses her own grand-daughter's body. Don't use the word simple again."

"Hey, my friend," Whistler raised his hands in defense. "Again, I'm only the messenger. Besides, I thought you'd be happy to have your beloved little slayer back. Your reactions to her were quite clear," he tried to joke only to choke the next second as Angel put pressure on his windpipe.

"You're disgusting, Whistler. Whatever my reactions were, whatever my dreams are. My first and only concern at the moment is how to tell her. How on earth am I going to tell her what happened?"

"You don't have to. She already knows," came a new voice from the door.

Go to Part 13