Part Twelve

"I staked him!" 

Angel spun around just in time to catch Buffy as she collapsed into his arms, sobbing frantically. He had held her this way before. Her words echoed through his mind. *I'll never forget. I'll never forget.* He forced them back. Now was not the time. "Staked who?" 

"He....vampire...oh god!" Buffy clutched him tightly around the waist. 

"It's all right, Buffy," he stroked her hair. "It's all over." 

"No," she looked up, meeting his eyes. "He's dead." 

"Who?" 

"Riley." 

Angel felt seriously confused. "What do you mean? He's not even here." 

"I staked a vampire. He was blond." 

"Buffy, lots of vampires are blond," he hugged her close. "Maybe you  got lucky and got Spike. Riley's with the twins and your mother." 

"No, no." The Slayer shook her head. "I'm sure it was him." 

"How?" Angel asked. 

"I...I don't know," she shook her head. "I'm so confused." 

"Hey, we did it!" Xander crowed, hobbling up behind them. "We're alive!  We...what's wrong?" 

Angel motioned him to be quiet as the others straggled up behind him. Carefully he pushed disheveled blonde locks from Buffy's face. *Quiet now. She's had enough.* "You're tired, love. Let's go home. Your mom and the babies and Riley are there waiting for you." 

She nodded mutely as he gently led her out of the factory.

The walk home was excruciatingly silent for a victorious group of world-saving Scoobies. Buffy's tear streaked face was enough to sober even the exuberance of Xander. When Cordelia and Anya moved up to walk beside the Slayer, Willow slipped back to Angel's side. That goodness it had become overcast, or he might have been one pile of crisped bacon on the sidewalk. 

"What's wrong?" She asked the brooding vampire. 

Angel frowned. "She thinks she staked a vampire that looked like  Riley." 

Her tongue froze in her mouth. Riley? But what did that mean for Joyce? Or the babies. "Angel," she whispered. "I hope she's wrong." 

Angel gave her a slightly reassuring smile. "If Riley were turned, I doubt we'd be seeing him til tomorrow night anyway. It takes time for vampires to rise." 

"Well we're about to find out," Willow replied as they neared Buffy's mother's house. The sight was not what one could have wished. 

"Mom!" Buffy broke away from them as they neared, running forward at a stumbling but still Slayer-speed pace. "Riley?!" 

"Oh, no." Cordelia's voice came from somewhere behind Willow. 

The door was ripped off its hinges. The windows smashed. The inside was no better. Furniture overturned. Pictures and vases smashed. But no bodies. No smell of death. Just the fine dust of vampires, and smears of off-color demon blood that left trails out the open kitchen door. 

Buffy was crouched in the middle of the floor, near the overturned couch. Angel was immediately beside her, consoling, whispering gently. 

Willow turned to Tara and Giles who were standing next to her. "We need to go find them. They could be anywhere." 

"Well, where would they have gone?" Tara asked. "Someplace safe right?" 

"So either a very public place," Giles nodded. "Where no demon would attack them." 

"Hard to find a place like that at night," Xander said, he and Anya joining them. 

"So someplace private." Anya smiled. "No vampires allowed." 

Cordelia slipped into the circle. "But someplace unexpected where demons wouldn't think to look." 

Willow had no idea where there might be someplace like that in Sunnydale. Apparently, neither did anyone else. At a loss, they spread out again, righting furniture and sweeping up the remains of vampires and demon goo. Eventually Angel managed to coax Buffy off the floor and onto the couch. The Slayer sniffled and took the cup of tea Wesley brought her, heavy on the milk and sugar. 

"Hello?" A voice echoed from the entryway. 

"Joyce?" Giles called back. 

A moment later, Buffy's mother appeared. In her arms were two blanketed bundles. 

"Mom!" Buffy flew from the couch, nearly tackling her mother with a hug and kissing both infants profusely. "Oh, my babies." She scooped Liam into her arms. "Where have you been?" 

"With me." 

Willow turned to see a blond figure standing behind Mrs. Summers. 

"Spike." Angel growled slightly. 

"Peaches," the younger vampire nodded. 

"We were attacked, and Riley held them off while I escaped. I took the car and headed toward the middle of town, but it was practically deserted." 

"They'd caught me off guard," Spike interjected. "And used me to get in the house. Captain Cornflake freed me and said if I didn't protect the lot he'd see to it I was sorry. Found `em and took `em to Giles' place. Figured they could hole up there til daylight." 

"And I'd love to know how you got into my place," Giles frowned. "It was locked." Willow couldn't help but wonder that herself. 

"It's all right, Rupert," Joyce sagged down into a chair. "He only picked the lock. We made sure it was locked again when we left." 

Buffy returned to the couch. Liam was starting to fuss. "Oh dear," she sighed. "I think he's hungry." 

"It *has* been several hours," Joyce agreed. "Are you up for it?" 

Buffy smiled. "Do I have much of a choice?" Her smile faded. "Mom, where's Riley?" She looked from her mother to Spike. "Or perhaps I should be asking you." 

The platinum blond vampire suddenly looked rather uncomfortable under all the stares. Willow couldn't blame him. "I didn't see anything. But I heard a scream as I hauled ass out. Came back after I got them settled. Found him dead on the floor. A few uglies came back and I split." 

"I did stake him!" Buffy wailed. "It's all my fault." 

"You mean they turned the bloody wanker?" Spike's eyes went wide. "And you killed him. Oh *that's* rich. You really weren't fond of the bloke were you?" 

"Shut up, Spike," Giles glared at him. "But how did he rise so soon? It usually takes longer." 

All eyes were on Spike and Angel, since they were the local experts on vampires. Spike's eyes focused everywhere except on Buffy, whom he seemed to be avoiding. "I suppose you ought to know. He'd been seeing vampires." 

"What do you mean *seeing?*" Cordelia asked, sounding very suspicious. 

"Hiring," Spike amended. "To suck his blood. For pleasure. It's oddly popular with humans for some reason. Find it erotic." He leered at them, in what Willow assumed was an attempt to seem tough. 

"Gross!" Cordelia shuddered. Willow definitely agreed. 

"Why would he do that?" Buffy looked horrified. "*How* could he?" 

"He was obsessed, ducks," Spike's leer was gone. He seemed almost sincerely concerned. "Wanted to know why you were so hot for a "hostile." It's not uncommon." 

"So, how would that have anything to do with his rising sooner?" Wesley asked. 

"He was...prepared, you could say," Spike continued. "Like a steak with a meat tenderizer. Steak cooks a bit faster, more tender; he'd had enough ladies drinking from him, it wasn't as much of a shock to the system to become undead." 

"Umm...eww," Anya shook her head in distaste. 

"So Riley was turned, rose, and joined in the battle, all within twelve hours," Giles shook his head. 

"I didn't know who it was." Buffy's voice had dropped to almost a whisper. Willow could barely hear her. "I felt his hand, and I staked him." 

Willow sat down at her friend's side, opposite Angel. "There's nothing else you could have done, Buffy. You had to act quickly. It was battle. And don't even start about cursing him with a soul. That spell seems to be made especially for Angel." 

Said vampire hugged the drooping Slayer. "He won't suffer now, beloved. And if he didn't get to feed, than he might even be in heaven now." 

"I still feel guilty," she sighed. "But you're right." 

"Of course he is," Cordelia smiled. "Angel's usually right. Now come on. We all need to get some rest, and get bandaged up. And I, for one, could do with a *long* hot bubble bath." 

"Here, here," Wesley nodded heartily. "There's more tea in the kitchen." 

"I'll take a cup," Giles smiled. 

"Me too," Willow agreed. Even though she usually didn't drink it, it sounded restful and normal. Something she desperately needed right now. And it would be hot and soothing. 

"I've got the bandages," Cordelia pulled out the Scooby-prepared first aid kit. "You first, Harris." 

"Yes, ma'am," he sat quietly as she began to clean a slash on his leg, Anya hovering beside him. 

They really were quite a disheveled lot. Everyone bleeding from at least one place, save Joyce, Spike, and the twins. Hair was a hopeless cause, even among the men. Buffy was..... where was Buffy? She turned in time to see Angel coming around the corner from the stairs. "How is Buffy?" 

The vampire sighed. "She's exhausted. Right now she's feeding the twins. Then Joyce is making sure she gets some rest. No one should have to go through all this. Especially not so soon after..."He cut off, actually looking slightly embarrassed.

He didn't need to finish the sentence. Willow had to admit she was amused that after everything the vampire had done, mentioning childbirth still went against his old Irish sensibilities. She nodded. "I know. Get some sleep, Angel. Buffy's going to want you when she wakes up." 

"Is she?" he snorted slightly. "She has her children, her mother, her friends. Riley is dead at her hand and she cries." 

"Because she's human." Willow reminded him gently. If Angel decided to leave now she was going to turn him into a rat. She was fairly certain she could actually do that now. "She loves you. Somehow whenever she really needs you you're here. If you leave now you'll break her heart....*again*." 

The dark man sighed. "You're right. When did you get so wise?" 

Willow felt her face redden at the complimentary question. "I've learned a lot about life the last couple of years." 

Angel smiled. "So have I." 

"Good," Willow nodded. *Thank the Powers that Be.* "Now shoo, scat, sleep! There's a cot in the basement you can use in case the sun comes up. I'll come get you when Buffy wakes up." 

"As you command, I obey," Angel's eyes flashed a little brighter, and Willow thought she was going to pass out in shock as he gave her a playful salute, then turned, and headed downstairs. Playful? Angel?! He really had changed, and definitely for the better. 

"Willow?" Wesley called from the kitchen. "Could you help me with some sandwiches?"

Angel slipped out of the bedroom where Buffy once again slept soundly, closing the door carefully so as not to wake her from much needed rest. Even with her Slayer strength and abilities, near-apocalyptic battles should not be fought practically on top of childbirth. Absently he wondered why that wasn't in any of the pregnancy and childbirth books he had borrowed from Buffy's bookshelf since his arrival in Sunnydale. Maybe he should write one. Not that future Slayers were likely to have the same situation. Angel himself had desperately wished for a book on "Handling and Care of the Pregnant Slayer: a How To Guide for the Ensouled Vampire." Alas, no such luck. 

He paused at the bottom of the stairs as he spotted the other ladies of the Scooby Gang deep in conversation. Cordelia was sprawled across the couch, freshly showered and wrist ace-bandaged. Willow sat cross-legged on the matching chair, a large book open in her lap, and Tara perched on the chair arm. Anya lounged on the floor with a pillow. The women all wore lose sweat pants and tops varying from t-shirts to tank tops. The dark red top on Willow was something he would have expected to see on Buffy, not the quiet young witch. But then, she wasn't so quiet or innocent anymore. They all stopped talking as he entered the room. "Should I leave?" he asked. 

"Oh no, we were just discussing you," Cordelia grinned. "I insist that you stay." She pulled her feet up enough to free one cushion of space at the end of the couch. 

Angel sat down, suddenly feeling far too much like a lab rat for his own comfort. Or a rare specimen of beetle. "Okay, what's going on?" He asked four expectant sets of eyes. 

"We need to discuss your situation," Willow stated simply. 

"Situation?" 

"Are you planning on staying here with Buffy or not?" Cordelia asked in a slightly annoyed voice. "Cause if not, I'm going to stake you right here." 

*What the?!* Angel sat back, stunned. He had avoided thinking about the inevitable questions that would arise, focusing only on Buffy and the babies, and the upcoming battles. But with those battles over.... "We... haven't discussed it," he admitted to his jury of college females. 

"But what do *you* want?" Anya piped up. "Cause I'm pretty sure Buffy would rather you stayed around. I might have to go ask for my powers back just to hurt you if we have to deal with her weeping all the time because you left. Of course, if you want to have sex with her you can't leave." 

The girl was even more unsubtle than Cordelia! Angel felt his face going a little red at the idea that the girls were grilling him about his most intimate plans. As for sex, that wasn't exactly an option, so why would the ex-demon be bringing it up? They were all staring at him, waiting for answers. He was trapped. "I don't know," Angel sighed. "I want her to be happy." 

"And that's a cop-out answer," Cordelia cut him off. "You always say things like that. All noncommittal and avoiding the real question. You've never gotten over her, and you know it. One mention of her, or Sunnydale, and you'd go all dark and brooding and miserable on us in LA!" 

"All right, all right," Angel glared at his friend. "I admit it. Now what's this all about anyway?" 

"Because we need to know if there's a chance of you going all *grrrr* again anytime soon." 

Yes, Cordelia definitely still needed some work on tact. "I hardly think–" 

"Shut up for a minute," she interrupted again. "Listen to what Willow and Tara have to say." 

Angel turned his attention to the two witches. What was going on with these women today?! 

Willow smiled at him. "Tara and I have been working on a spell for some time now..." 

"Not really a spell," Tara interjected. "More of a...patch." 

"A continuation, or alteration, of the curse," Willow finished. "Basically, we think we can make your soul permanent." 

His soul? Was his shanshu to come from a spell? No, the PTB wouldn't do it this way. Though that had done many things in the past he didn't comprehend, especially the recent developments that had given him two children. Perhaps this was a partial reward of some kind. "How?" he asked, not really daring to hope. 

"We wrote a new part of the spell," Tara smiled. 

"Kind of like a patch for a hole," Willow nodded. "Only it will hold your soul inside you seamlessly. In theory." 

Of course in theory. "What would this involve?" Angel felt as though he should be holding his breath. 

Willow stopped smiling. "That's the tricky part. Unlike a real patch we can't just cast this over the existing spell. We have to *remove* the curse, and then re-curse you using the modified spell. Otherwise we can't be sure that it will stay."

"Absolutely not." His heart was breaking, but he couldn't let them try. "That means letting Angelus out again. I can't risk that."

"We already thought of that, smart ass," Cordelia sighed. "We'd chain you down *before* they remove the curse. And I'll be standing by, holy water and stake in hand just in case." 

"Oh, that makes me feel so much better," Angel snapped. But... it *was* worth it, wasn't it? The possibility of staying with Buffy, forever. Never having to worry about Angelus breaking free again, even if the demon still remained within him. Angelus would be trapped, imprisoned inside him. Angel. "I'll go along with it. But if things start to go wrong, promise me you'll re-curse me using the original spell. We know that one works." 

Willow nodded. "I promise. Buffy would probably kill me if we lost your soul forever." 

"If I didn't first," he replied, all seriousness. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew they were fully aware of the risks, but that didn't make him any less protective. At times, Cordelia and Willow still seemed much like the children they had been when he first them. Anya and Tara were total enigmas to him. The idea that Willow was a lesbian still struck him as odd. Of course, that could also be his long ignored Catholic Irish upbringing banging at the little closet door in his head begging to be let out. "When were you hoping to do this?" 

"As soon as you're ready," Buffy's best friend smiled. "No reason to put it off. The sooner we do it, the sooner perfect happiness stops being synonymous with `bloody massacre.' I would much prefer having a happy best friend than destruction."

"All right, then. We'll do it tonight." Doubt raged inside of him, but he forced it down. The opportunity might only come once. He couldn't be certain if this was the Powers at work, or not, but he couldn't take that chance. 

Now how was he ever going to tell Buffy?

"Is that tight enough?" Buffy asked, giving the chain one last tug. Angel was looking up at her with an statement that was either amused or frightened, possibly a bit of both. It was an odd statement. 

He nodded, pulling against it. "Perfect." 

The tone in his voice told her he was referring to more than just her ability to tie him down with chains. If circumstances had been different, this might even be amazingly kinky. She hadn't known how to respond to Angel's news that Willow might be able to permanently tie down his soul. He had asked if she wanted him around, as if he still couldn't comprehend that she was still in love with him. Not that she had told him that outright. Sometimes Buffy wasn't sure what she wanted, or what was best. But she knew that at least for right now, Angel was the best thing she and the twins could possibly have. And he deserved his soul, and the right to perfect happiness, even if it turned out to be with someone else in the distant future. So she told him yes. 

Stepping back, she nodded at Willow. "Done." 

Her best friend smiled encouragingly. "Are you ready, Angel?" 

Was it her imagination, or was Angel really terrified? Not that his face showed it, but Buffy could still sense him after all this time. Especially now, when he was so close, and had been with her almost constantly for weeks. She reached out and squeezed his hand to say *I'm here.* He smiled. She didn't need to vocalize her thoughts. At this moment, if only for a moment, she was sure he could hear them. *You mean the world to me. Please make it through this.* 

Angel nodded once. "I'm ready." 

Willow began to chant in a language Buffy could sort of tell was what the gypsy curse had been cast in. A simple reversal spell, Tara had explained earlier. In a minute the curse would be lifted. 

"Better step back," Cordelia warned, causing Anya to take a step back, holy water firmly in hand. 

"Right." Buffy had almost forgotten that part. She let loose Angel's hand and moved away, not taking her eyes from his. Yes, there was definitely fear in those dark brown orbs. Fear for her, and himself. 

As she watched, his eyes began to change. It was a subtle change on the outside, as they lost their softness. What assaulted the Slayer inside was as clear as August sunlight. *Angelus.* 

The vampire leered at her, fangs glistening and face transformed, testing the chains. "Very good children, is this little strip show just for me?" 

Cordelia glared at the demon. "No comments on the fashion, buddy. My don't we have a big ego this evening." 

"Hey, the little ham grew some backbone. Too bad you don't even have the acting skills of a dead cat." 

"Bite me," she snapped back. "You have to have a soul to appreciate true art." 

"Feisty too." 

Buffy watched the exchange in confusion. Since when had Cordelia and Angelus been on speaking terms? He was sending her Slayers senses into overdrive, waging a war with her feelings for Angel inside her, and it was all she could do not to stake him. 

Those eyes turned on her. Gone was the tender concern, the self-depreciating grin. She knew those eyes. "Hello, lover." Those eyes were hungry, dirty, and completely evil. 

"Don't call me that." Her heart shrank against her spine. 

He laughed coldly. "Relax, strumpet. You've been soiled by those less worthy than I. Imagine, letting some weakling human male paw and pant over you like some old bone. You deserve kings and emperors bowing at your feet." 

Buffy snorted. "Kings? Emperors? Even those are men. Unless you mean a ruler of darkness." 

"I could make you a queen for eternity." 

"Snake." 

The demon's grin was feral. "No. A dark angel." 

Buffy glared at him. It. "I wouldn't touch you." 

"But you have." 

"That was years ago. And that wasn't you." 

"We're one and the same, that whiner and I," Angelus smirked. "And it wasn't that long ago. I remember. Don't you? You came to me in the city of *angels,* and thanked me as I fucked you til you screamed. " 

"Shut up!" Buffy tossed a pillow at the vampire, who managed to avoid it with a twist of his head. "You're lying!" 

"Am I?" he leered. "I'm dismayed you don't remember. Cookie-dough-fudge-mint-chip *is* your favorite ice cream isn't it?" 

Buffy's mind raced. Angel had mentioned her favorite before, when they ran into each other – literally – in LA. But she had only admitted it then. How could he have really known?....he couldn't. It hadn't sounded like a guess then though, and it didn't now. Only in her dreams had they...but that had *never*... "I'll gut you like a pig if one more filthy word comes out of your mouth." 

"No you won't," the vampire chuckled. "Your precious Angel is still in here somewhere. And I know how fond you are of that soul, and the body of course. Mustn't forget the body. Licking ice cream from my chest like a trained puppy. Screwing like rabbits in a windowless apartment." 

"We never did that!" Had they? No, of course not. He was just trying to get to her. *And it's working damn it.* 

"Of course, you did," he replied. "And you didn't. All in one day that never happened. He stole it away from you, that sniveling soul. Never asked, just did it. Like everything else he ever did to you." 

Rage began to rise within her. Not just her own, but the rage of every slayer that ever came before her. The rage of the innocent murdered by this, and endless other demons. And most strongly, that of Angel's soul calling out to her from an endless sea of emptiness. "Enough!" she screamed. "Enough, you bastard!" The hot tears seared rivers in her cheeks, and scalded her eyes.

"Go to hell!" 

Cordelia stared as Buffy spun on her heal and ran from the room. She turned a cold glare back to the demon chained to Buffy's old bed. "You disgust me." 

"Perhaps someone should go after her?" Tara asked, clearly uncomfortable with the situation, and Angelus. 

"I'll do it," Cordelia handed the shy witch her holy water. "Don't listen to a word he says. He's a bastard in the truest sense of the word." 

"I'm touched that you think so highly of me," Angelus joked from the bed. 

"Just finish the spell," Cordelia told Willow and slipped out the door. 

The hallway was empty. Quickly Cordelia checked the upstairs rooms, seeing only the twins asleep in Joyce's room in their playpen, then slipped down to the first floor. Joyce was out getting more groceries to feed the colony that had set up in her house. Giles and Wesley were restocking magic supplies. Xander had gone out to get more bandages. The house was almost silent, except... 

Sniffling was coming from the kitchen. 

"Buffy?" She paused in the doorway, not wanting to intrude on the other woman. The Slayer sat at the kitchen table, clutching an empty coffee cup as if to crush it, which she most likely could if she truly wanted. 

"I hate him," Buffy finally replied. She was visibly shaken. 

"Trust me, you're not alone," Cordelia took that as an invitation to take the empty chair beside her. 

"His lies are just so horrible," the Slayer snapped. "And so ridiculous. I would remember something like that. Wouldn't I?" 

Cordelia looked at Buffy. They both knew that Angelus didn't really lie. He just told nasty perversions of the truth. And that was definitely one of them. It was time to come clean. "He wasn't lying. Not in the literal sense."

"How could he not?" Buffy slammed the coffee cup down on the table. "We never had sex after my birthday. And Angel would have told me if he had the chance to be human." 

"Technically, he just did," Cordelia pointed out, prying the coffee cup loose and going over to the still warm coffee pot. "Just not in the nicest way." She handed the filled mug back to the Slayer, and poured one for herself. "You guys *did* get all, sweaty and personal the Thanksgiving you came to visit. Angel was made human by some regenerative demon blood that got into a cut on his hand. He had the day taken back because the oracles – this beings that talk for the PTB – said you'd die if he wasn't super strong to protect you. He told you after he'd made the deal." 

Buffy was staring at her, and with good reason. "How do you know this?" 

Cordelia took a long fortifying sip from her own coffee. "Angel told Doyle about it afterwards. He couldn't handle be the only one who ever knew the day happened. And Doyle told me about it later, as long as I promised not to tell you or anyone else. At this point that promise is rather void." 

"Why didn't he tell me?" 

*Great, here we go with the tears of self-involvement.* "I think he was waiting until after the spell was cast. He probably didn't want to let your hopes up. He's horribly noble like that." 

Buffy nodded. "He is. I'd like to strangle him." 

Cordelia couldn't help smiling a bit at that. She'd felt the same way often enough. "If you'd like some help, my schedule's empty for the rest of the week." 

That got a glare, and then a tiny twitch of lips. "I think I can handle him. If nothing goes wrong." 

"Everything's going to go great," she said, with more conviction than she truly felt. She wasn't about to voice her own doubts to the still distraught Slayer. "Angel will be Angel again in a few minutes, and maybe forever. Then you can beat him for not telling you, and then whatever you want to do to him afterwards is entirely your business. I don't want to hear about it, beforehand or after." 

This time a real smile came from the Slayer. "You're surprisingly good at this consolation thing, you know that?" 

Cordelia grinned. "I'll take that as a compliment. I learned from the king himself." *I just hope he's still here to console others after today.*

Go to Part Thirteen