8  -  About Vampire Protocol and the Placement of Trust

#
 

Angel and Darla walked into one of LA's many office buildings and took the elevator to the top floor. If he hadn't been so worried Angel might have smiled. The last time he had attended a gathering of the Vampirium had been in 1908, but a few months after the Restoration, and it had taken place by candlelight in an old castle in France.

"Times change." He murmured.

"But the rules don't." Darla added. "You still remember them, I hope?"

"Don't worry about me!"

"I always do. You know that."

"Just be glad we never had to take Spike along to one of these meetings."

The two Vampires shared a small smile as the elevator arrived at the top floor. Darla and Angel passed inspection by four security guards, all of them armed, and were ushered through into a large conference room.

The room was empty except for a long row of tables arranged in a half-circle. Twelve chairs stood behind the tables, eleven of them currently occupied. Seven women and four men, all dressed in the finest of business attire, all of them radiating enough dark energy to saturate the room. The feeling of age hovered above them all like a heavy blanket and Angel could almost feel the millennia gathered here.

He remembered the protocol, which was a lot older than he was, and remained standing near the door, while Darla approached the table.

"State your claim!" One of the ancient Vampires addressed Darla.

"I am Darla Chamberlain, Eldest of the Order of Aurelius, Childe of Master Heinrich Nest. I am here to take my seat in the Vampirium."

The eleven Vampires nodded and Darla walked around the table to seat herself in the one empty chair. Twelve chairs, twelve Vampire orders, named after twelve Vampire Masters. Only three of the orders were still headed by the Vampires that originally gave the order its name. The millennia took their toll even on the immortals.

"The Vampirium is now complete." Master Jean de Chevallier said. Angel knew that this woman, who looked to be no older than twenty, was actually well over a thousand years old.

"Who has called this meeting of the Elders?" Master Grigori asked.

"I have, honored Masters." Angel said, walking into the half-circle.

"State your claim!"

"I am Liam Angelus O'Connor of the Order of Aurelius, Childe of Master Darla Chamberlain. I would speak to you of a happening of gravest importance."

"Speak then, Angelus!"

"Honored Masters, ninety-two years ago me and one of my Childer performed the spell known as the Restoration of Souls. The spell was taken from a book called the Necronomicon Nocturnum, a volume of dark magic which has, since that day, remained in my care."

"We are all aware of these facts." Chevallier said, the barest hint of boredom penetrating into her ancient voice.

"Honored Masters, it pains me that I have to inform you that the Necronomicon Nocturnum has been stolen from me two days ago."

Angel's words came close to shattering the calmness of even these ancient creatures. The silence that spread over the room was filled with worry and tension. Angel was acutely aware of the stares that centered on his person.

"Elaborate, Angelus!" Grigori said after a minute.

"The book was hidden in a bunker in Ireland, guarded by both magic and technology. The location of the bunker was known only to a handful of people. Nevertheless two days ago the bunker was breached. I was there yesterday and found that the Necronomicon is gone."

Several of the Masters were whispering to each other now. Angel watched them, wondering if one of them might actually be responsible for the theft. All of these were ancient Vampires, who had committed many evils in their long, long lives. They all carried memories of atrocities that made his own 150 years of slaughter and mayhem pale in comparison.

Might one of them have stolen the book to lift the burden of a conscience off him- or herself?

"Angelus!" Master Malya Tushumi rose from her chair and addressed him. "Ninety-one years ago the Vampirium decided that you, as the one who ushered in this new age of Vampires, were to be trusted as the Necronomicon's keeper. Do you now tell us that our trust was misplaced?"

"I can only tell you the facts, honored Masters. The decision on whether I am still worthy of your trust is not mine to make. Yet I feel that the first priority for all of us should be the recovery of the book."

He saw Darla flinch, as his words and tone were certainly lacking some of the respect the Vampirium deserved, or thought it deserved. Angel didn't think much of this ancient body of Elders, who never did much except make themselves feel important. He knew that Darla only took her seat here if it was absolutely necessary, not being very fond of most of the other people on this body.

"Angelus!" Grigori raised his voice again. "What danger does this pose to our people? What could someone do with this book in his possession?"

"Honored Masters, when the book first came into my possession I studied the spells contained inside it. I then decided that they were too dangerous to be tampered with and locked the book away. I would have destroyed it had that been possible, but the magic of the book resisted all my efforts in that direction."

"What of these spells?" Chevallier asked. "What can they do?"

"First and foremost the book contains the Restoration spell. A skilled mage might use this information to enact a counter spell that will undo the Restoration."

None of them should have been surprised by that information, yet Angel could feel the tension inside the room double. No matter how little he respected them, he knew that most of the Elders were decent people. They didn't want a return to the old days anymore than he and his friends did.

"There are other spells," Angel continued, "that might prove just as dangerous. The Necronomicon contains magics pertaining to all the major arcana of night and darkness. With it demons can be summoned, portals can be opened, plagues can be called down upon the Earth. The damage that one using the book could inflict, both on our people and on the world at large, is practically without limit."

There was murmuring among the Masters again and Angel waited, burning with impatience, but allowing no sign of it to penetrate to his face. He needed their help, therefore he had to play it by their rules.

"What steps have you taken to recover the book, Angelus?" Grigori asked.

"With my Sire's consent I have utilized all the means the Order of Aurelius has as its disposal. Members of the Order are scouring Ireland for signs of the thieves. My own people are working here in America, trying to find out whether the book might have been brought here."

He straightened and swept his eyes over all of them.

"The book could be anywhere, though, anywhere in the world. That is why I humbly ask you, honored Masters, to render all the assistance you can provide. The book must be found and quickly."

"And if it is found," Tushumi stated, "will you then bow to the Vampirium concerning the best possible disposition of this book?"

Angel managed to keep his anger from his face.

"I want the book safely locked away from any and all hands." Angel said. "I believe that is the best possible disposition for it. It is too dangerous to be in anyone's hands."

"Yet it was in your hands for nearly a century." Tushumi continued.

"And no one has touched it since the day we locked it away in 1908."

It was obvious that Tushumi wanted to say more, but Grigori rose from his chair and motioned for the Japanese Vampire to leave things for the moment. For a moment the two ancient Masters stared at each other, then Tushumi sat down again.

There was silence for a long moment, then Grigori looked at his fellow Elders.

"Do we have a consensus on providing the Order of Aurelius with all the aid it will need to recover the Necronomicon Nocturnum?"

The other Masters nodded their consent and Angel breathed a silent sigh of relief. He had feared that this might take a lot longer and have a far less favorable outcome.

"Angelus!" Grigori looked at him. "The Vampirium hereby authorizes you to make best use of all the means at our disposal to locate and retrieve the Necronomicon Nocturnum. We will receive regular reports on your progress and expect that you will bring this matter to a quick and successful conclusion."

Angel nodded and gave a short bow. With the resources of the Vampirium added to their own, there wouldn't be a place on Earth where the thief of the book would be safe.

Unless, of course, the thief was here among them.

9  -  Connoisseurs of English Tea and Demon Literature

#

"I must say," Giles remarked, "that Angel has the most complete library of the occult that I have ever seen."

"Yes," Wesley said, "even the Council's main archive in London pales in comparison, doesn't it?"

The two ex-Watchers had spent most of the night looking through Angel's assembled books, looking to put together a possible list of suspects for the theft of the Necronomicon. They were also looking to find out more about the book itself.

"It says here," Wesley said, indicating the book on his lap, "that the Necronomicon Nocturnum is older than human civilization. It would seem it was not written by human hands."

"That would make sense. I went through Angel's notes about the Restoration and here it says that he was unable to decipher the language the book was written in. Only by performing something he described as a 'Judging of Worthiness' was he able to read and invoke the spell."

"So if the book has some kind of inbuilt safety mechanism," Wesley continued the thought, "then the only question is by what standards it judges the worthiness of the reader."

"Well, Angel was able to read it, but he is also the only one we know of who ever attempted to read it. There is no telling which of his ... qualities the book found to its liking."

Giles sighed, rubbing his tired eyes.

"I would kill for a cup of tea right now." He murmured.

"No need to go that far." Darla said, walking into the room with a tray in her hands. Giles' face brightened considerably upon seeing the tea cups on the tray.

"Thank you, Ms. Chamberlain." He said, gratefully taking a cup. "You are a life saver."

"Knowing Wesley's research habits," she smiled at him, "I felt it was certain that you two learned gentlemen would spend the entire night here without a single thought to your health. We can't have that."

"Thank you, Darla." Wes said, also taking a cup.

All three took the opportunity to just recline in their seats and enjoy the taste of the hot tea. For a moment Giles marveled that this young woman was able to make such magnificent tea, only to force himself to remember that the young woman sitting in front of him was actually centuries older than he. And an Englishwoman, if he remembered right. A very beautiful one at that.

"How did the meeting of the Vampirium go?" Wesley asked after a while.

"Quite good, actually." Darla said. "The Elders have authorized Angel to use their every resource to locate the Necronomicon. None of them would admit it, but they are all scared. The power this book has over our people is the stuff of nightmares."

Giles nodded, understanding the fear he could see in the ancient woman's eyes. It amazed how completely his world had changed in this last year. For decades he had worked in the service of the Council to destroy Vampires. Now here he was, sharing a cup of tea with one of them, helping them in their work, wanting to make the fear in the eyes of the woman in front of him go away.

Where had that thought come from?

"Where is Angel, by the way?" Giles asked, as much to distract himself from his own thoughts as anything else.

"I convinced him to go to bed." Darla said. "He hasn't gotten any rest at all since the Necronomicon was stolen. Even Vampires need their sleep, so I pretty much told him to go or I would be forced to knock him out."

Wesley smiled and even Giles could not suppress a slight chuckle. The thought of Angel being threatened by this small woman seemed ridiculous, until one remembered that Darla was Angel's Sire. Giles doubted that a human would ever be able to understand the bond that existed between Sire and Childe.

"I wish we had some more to go on." Wesley sighed, putting the cup of tea away and reaching for a book once more. "According to Angel's notes only four people knew the location of Newgrange and what it contained. Angel himself, Spike, someone called Luke, and you, Darla."

"Luke is a member of the family, Wesley. You might call him my brother, also a Childe of Heinrich Nest. I would trust him with my life."

"If it's safe to say that none of you four revealed the location to anyone, then we must assume that someone has located Newgrange and the book by magical means."

Darla sighed. "Yes, and only a mage could have gotten past Newgrange's magical defenses. We covered that subject a dozen times already. Have you come up with a list of likely candidates?"

"We are working on it." Wesley said. "Angel's books and records contain a surprising number of people who might be capable of the theft. We need to narrow it down somewhat."

The blonde Vampire shook her head.

"I fear I am too tired to think straight. If you gentlemen will excuse me, I will retire for the day. Maybe by then we will have some more to go on."

Darla walked out of the library and Giles put his cup away. He was much too wired to sleep, so he reached for another book, at the same time trying to banish some very un-Watcher-like thoughts about Darla from his mind.

#

Buffy looked up as he walked into the room and her face spread into a smile of delight.

"Angel! I missed you."

He walked toward her, grinning. She came to meet him, full of love and trust, and it was the easiest thing in the world for him to strike her down. His blow hit her full in the face and threw her halfway across the room.

"Missed you, too, lover." He snarled as he stalked after her.

Buffy rose on her elbows, bleeding from the lip, her eyes full of confusion.

"Angel, what ...?"

He grabbed her by the hair and threw her down again. Buffy could not even think of resistance when he pushed her face into the cold floor and straddled her body, laughing.

"I had a hard day at work, honey!" He told her. "Daddy needs some relaxation time."

"Angel, no!" She screamed as he tore open her blouse and brutally ripped the pants from her legs. His tongue flicked out to lick a cold, wet line along her spine.

"Sorry, honey bun! Your lover boy ain't here anymore."

He drew her head back even as he saw the horror of understanding spread on her face.

"Yes, darling!" He whispered as he pressed his face into her hair, the pulsing warmth of her neck just inches away from his mouth. "No more of that soul crap! It's time for you to meet the real me."

"Angel! Please, don't!" She whimpered as one of his hands crept between her legs, the other drawing her head even further back.

"Scream for me, love!"

With a hiss of delight he sank his fangs into her neck and she screamed.

#

Angel woke with a start, covered in sweat and panting heavily. For a moment he still had the wonderful taste of blood in his mouth. Her blood.

"My God!" He whispered. "My God!"

He looked around his empty bedroom, realizing that it had been but a dream. He was alone. Buffy was on her way to Washington with Cordy. Safe. Safe from him.

Angel balled his fists, trying to calm his rapid breathing. He was a man, damn it! A man, not a demon! He had rid the world of the demon over ninety years ago and he would never allow it to return. Never again would a killer wearing his face stalk innocent victims.

"Are you so sure about that?" The demon's voice seemed to whisper in his ear.

Angel sat on the bed, hugging himself.

10  -  Say That You Love Me Enough

#
 

One week had passed since the theft of the Necronomicon and Buffy returned home to the Hyperion desperately hoping that there was some positive news. She had spent the last five days in Washington, riding herd on Cordy, who seemed determined to make friends with every Senator and Congressman in existence. Sometimes Buffy doubted that Cordy was human. She was the Slayer and completely tired while Cordy seemed as fresh as a daisy.

At least she would be free for the foreseeable future. Cordy's next big appointment was in Washington again, but that was nearly a month from now. She would have to deliver a big speech to a large crowd of movers and shakers and would probably start working on said speech tonight.

Buffy had better plans for the night.

"Hi, Giles! Wes!" She greeted the two Watchers, who were sitting in the lobby in front of a heap of books, printouts, and a laptop computer. That she would live to see the day Giles started using a laptop.

"Hello, Buffy." Giles greeted her. "All went well in Washington, I trust?"

"No further assassination attempts," she informed them, "and apart from that I didn't get much. There was a lot of talk about civil rights and stuff. I think Cordy blew them away."

"Cordelia does have the talent to overwhelm people." Wesley agreed.

"She certainly does." Buffy's smile vanished. "Any news about the book?"

"None I'm afraid." Giles sighed. "Not a trace. I am amazed by the reach the Vampirium has, but whoever took the book seems to be beyond said reach for the moment."

"The good news is, of course," Wesley added, "that nothing particularly malevolent has happened to our undead friends yet, so I think it's safe to assume that whoever has taken the Necronomicon has not figured out how to use it yet."

"Or they're simply waiting to lull us into a false sense of security." Giles said.

"Where is Angel?" Buffy asked.

"In his office. He is online with most of the Vampirium operatives worldwide. If you can, Buffy, you should convince him to get some sleep. He has been working nonstop for several nights and days now."

"I think I can find some ways to convince him." She assured them with a smile and walked towards Angel's office.

Angel was sitting behind his desk, two laptops and lots of paper in front of him, staring at the screens with red-rimmed eyes. He was cradling a phone to his head with one shoulder, while he was busily typing away on one of the computers, all the while talking in a language that Buffy didn't recognize. Sounded a bit like Chinese or Japanese.

Angel looked up and saw her, flashing her a brief half-smile, then returned to his phone conversation and typing. Buffy sat down in the chair in front of his desk, crossing her legs, and waited patiently.

For about two minutes.

"I think you should stop now, Angel!" She informed him. Angel looked up from his screen again and said some indecipherable words into the phone, then put it away. He leaned back with a sigh.

"I can't rest, Buffy." He told her. "We still haven't found a clue about the book's whereabouts. If I ..."

"If you are completely tired out you won't be able to do a thing once the book is found, Angel. From what Wes and Giles told me, you got hundreds of Vampires scouring the entire world right now. Will it kill them if you allow yourself a few hours of sleep?"

He was about to open his mouth when Buffy rose and walked around the desk to straddle his lap. She put her arms around his neck and rested her forehead against his.

"Really, Angel! I love you, but sometimes you're a dummy. Get some rest! You're not gonna be of use to anyone like this."

Again he sighed. "Why is it that I can never win an argument against you, beloved?"

"That's not true." She said with a mock pout. "I always let you win the unimportant ones."

They shared a brief kiss, then Angel nodded.

"Okay, I will go to bed. Come with me?"

She eyed him suspiciously. "You are supposed to get some rest, mister. The two of us in one bedroom doesn't go together with that."

"I promise to be good." He whispered into her ear, brushing it with his lips.

"I don't know whether I'm glad or sorry to hear that." She smiled.

#

Angel had his eyes closed and did nothing but marvel at the wonderful feeling of the warm form that lay sprawled across his body. Buffy's head rested on his chest, her hair spilling down his side and into his fingers, which were softly playing with the strands. It felt so wonderful to have her here like this, alive, breathing, chasing the chill of death away just by her presence.

Once again he remembered the nightmares that were still plaguing him. The nightmares of what Angelus would do to this wonderful girl that rested in his arms. It made him shiver.

"You're brooding again." Buffy chided him, opening her eyes. She turned over until she was lying on her stomach, resting her chin on his chest and looking into his eyes.

"Worrying is more like it." He told her, fingers still caressing her hair. "With the book somewhere out there ..."

"You're doing everything you can, Angel." She reminded him. "So please stop worrying for now, okay?"

He couldn't do that, of course. He had spent too much time doing nothing but worry. Ever since the Restoration there had always been something to worry about. How his people would survive without killing. How they would stay hidden from the humans. How they would find a place among them when hiding no longer worked.

He looked into her eyes. Every day he loved her more and that just gave him something else to worry about.

"Beloved, you have to promise me something!" He said.

"Anything."

"Should the worst happen, should the Restoration be reversed, you will have to kill me."

She rose in a flash, sitting back to stare at him with wide eyes.

"No, Angel! Never! I ... I couldn't ... Never! I can't promise you something like that!"

"Buffy, please ..."

"Don't Buffy me, okay? Angel, I love you! How can you even think of demanding something like that from me?"

He sat up as well, gently grabbing her by the shoulders, feeling the shivers that ran through her small form. It hurt him to demand this of her, but he had to make her understand.

"Buffy, listen to me! If I lose my soul, if the demon takes control again, it won't be me anymore. Just a monster wearing my face. You don't know what that monster is like, Buffy. You don't have the least idea."

"I read all the books on your past, Angel." She reminded him. "I know what you did when you weren't you, but ..."

"Your read about it, Buffy. You didn't see it. I remember it all like it was yesterday." He looked down, trying to shake the memories away. "The demon is still in here, Buffy. He is inside my mind. I know what he will do when he gets free. I know what he will do to you. I have seen it in my nightmares, he whispers it into my ear when I sleep. The thought that he might ... might hurt you ... kill you ..."

"That will never happen, Angel!" She told him confidently. "We will find the book and you and your people will be safe."

"If the worst happens," he insisted, "I need your word. Don't hold back against me, because the demon won't. He will do everything in his power to hurt you. Promise me, Buffy! Promise that you will kill me if it happens!"

Buffy looked into his eyes, filled with desperation, and found herself nodding.

"If ... if that's the way you want it." She whispered.

"I do. I wouldn't want to come back if anything were to happen to you."

"But it won't come to that." She repeated, wrapping her arms around him to pull him close. "We will find that stupid book and this time we will burn it to make sure that it can never happen again."

He relaxed in her embrace, not bothering to tell her that destroying the book was not possible. He didn't know whether she actually would, or could, go through with killing him if it had to be done. He knew, though, that he would do everything in his power to prevent it from happening.

He was a man! And never again would he allow the demon free reign.

11  -  Lift This Burden From My Shoulders

#
 

The Vampire studied the book lying on the table in front of him with something very close to reverence. This was the holy grail of Vampirekind. Had been ever since that fateful day in 1907. The day everything had changed. The day one of their own had damned them forever.

Angelus, he growled under his breath. Traitor to his own kind. Cursed them all with a conscience, only because he had run afoul of some Gypsies. Even thought that he had done them a favor, the swine.

He contemplated the book again. This small thing held the power that had changed them forever. Its black leather casing, strange and disturbing symbols etched into the cover, seemed to glow with an inner light.

Carefully he reached out and undead fingers slowly caressed the book, trying to get a measure of the danger it posed. The temptation to just flip it open and unleash its power was almost too much to bear.

"What a wonderful world," a voice made the Vampire flinch back from the book, "that has such wonderful power in it."

He looked up to see the approaching shape of the sorcerer, making not a sound as he walked through the corridor. The sorcerer's shape was clad in flowing black robes that hid everything but his face and hands from view. He seemed to float rather than walk, though it was hard to say. A chill seemed to precede him as he came into the room.

The Vampire knew that he needed the sorcerer, needed his skill and power if he wanted to achieve his goals. Yet at the same time he loathed this creature he was dependent upon. The sorcerer was not human, neither was he a Vampire. He was something the Vampire did not understand and that irked him.

"Can you hear its beautiful song?" The sorcerer asked, coming closer. The light of the candles flickered across his face, but the floor behind him was empty. He cast no shadow. He left no footprints.

"Yes." The Vampire said, observing these disturbing details. "Who could not?"

The sorcerer walked closer and reached out with his own hand, dark-skinned fingers hovering a hair's breath above the black cover of the Necronomicon. The barest shimmer of magic played across the back of his hand, tiny sparkles of energy as he tasted this thing of blackest sorcery he now called his own. He could feel the dark power that was seeping from these ancient pages and he relished it.

"I have dreamt of this moment for a long, long time." The sorcerer said.

"I hope you won't need that long to figure out how to use it." The Vampire said.

"Patience, my friend. The power of the Necronomicon Nocturnum is not something to be taken lightly. We need time and lots of preparation."

The Vampire snorted.

"Angelus worked the Restoration but minutes after he found the book, with more than a hundred Vampires about to rend him to pieces, and he was not even a skilled mage."

"Angelus was ready to sacrifice everything in order to fulfill his dream, he did not care for his own survival. I certainly do."

The sorcerer touched the book.

"Powerful magics bind these pages. To open the book is to subject oneself to them, to put oneself at their mercy. The Necronomicon itself decides who is worthy to work its power and we need to be sure that we are worthy, otherwise death by fire awaits us. I am sure neither of us is too anxious to have that happen, especially when we are this close to fulfilling our dreams."

The Vampire sighed, understanding but not liking it.

"One would think that an immortal such as yourself," the sorcerer said, "would have perfected the art of patience long ago."

"Who has the time to be patient when Angelus is scouring the world with the resources of the Vampirium behind him? Despite his youth he is not an opponent to be taken lightly. The Order of Aurelius stands with him, as does the Slayer. I want to get this over with before they find us."

The sorcerer chuckled softly, amused by the almost stark terror the mere mention of the Slayer invoked in Vampires. He was not worried about a little girl with superpowers. On the other hand a hundred or more Vampires led by a fanatic like Angelus did worry him.

"You could have opposed his use of Vampirium resources."

The Vampire laughed. "What? And be the only one to do so? I could just as well have stood up and confessed the thievery of the book. No, Angelus must not suspect  my involvement, not yet. As long as he works with the Vampirium, I know what he will do. Should he find a trace of us, I will be prepared to face him."

"If that is so, then why are you so worried?"

"Let me worry! It is your job to get that damn book to work, spend your time with nothing else!"

The sorcerer's face showed no amusement.

"I will. Just don't forget that I am not one of your lackeys. We are partners in this. I will unlock this book and reverse the Restoration for you. After that the Necronomicon is mine to do with as I please."

The Vampire growled.

"I remember our deal, do not worry. Now get to work!"

The sorcerer nodded, his face neutral and still. It disturbed the Vampires that he could not read this man. More than a thousand years on this world had taught him how to read and understand the motivations of humans and other creatures by observing the tiniest nuances of face, speech, and body movement. None of it worked with the sorcerer. His thoughts and motivations were closed to him, he kept his own council.

He remembered what Angelus had said. The book contained more spells than just the Restoration. Spells of dark power that could summon demons, call down plagues. Until this moment he had not given any thought to what the sorcerer might do with the book once the Restoration was reversed, but now ...

The Vampire shook his head and turned around to leave the sorcerer with the book. Inside he was burning with impatience. It had taken him decades to find Newgrange, Angelus had hidden his treasure trove well. It had taken him even longer to find someone who could help him breach Newgrange's magical defenses, someone who would unlock the book's secrets and make them work. He did not know what the sorcerer wanted to do with the book once the Restoration was reversed and he did not care in the least.

Soon, he calmed himself. Soon this curse would be lifted from him. The memories of the past would no longer haunt him, the simple pleasures of hurting and killing would no longer chill him down to his soul, for that soul would soon be gone.

To be able to live again, truly live. Taste the blood of mortals without pain or regret, live in a world without worry or despair. To be free of this curse that Angelus had laid upon his people. Soon. Very soon.

Master Grigori smiled. Soon he would live again. Soon!

Behind him the sorcerer smiled as well, for reasons all his own.

12  -  Sometimes You Just Need Faith

#
 

"We gotta run, Buffy! Call me, okay?"

"Sure thing, Xan!"

Buffy remained seated at the table as Anya and Xander took off from the café. It had been good to see her oldest friend again, she mused, even if his new flame had to be one of the most superficial girls she had ever met. A bit like she herself had once been, she admitted.

Ever since becoming the Slayer, and especially since becoming involved with Angel, she had had too little time for her old friends. She and Xander had gone to High School together and this had been the first time they had met in months.

With a sigh Buffy resolved to do more of this catch-up work once she had a bit more time. Yeah, like that would happen anytime soon. The Necronomicon was still gone, not a trace to be found in more than two weeks. Angel was working with superhuman effort and seeing absolutely no return for it, which was slowly driving him crazy.

She would have to do something about that, she smiled to herself. Something to relax him a bit. Something that had nothing to do with Vampires, magic books, assassins, ...

Someone slid onto the chair on the other side of the table and Buffy froze.

"Hi, Buffy!" Faith said.

Faith! Buffy had almost managed to forget about her with everything else that was going on. Now Faith was sitting right in front of her and Buffy was speechless.

Faith looked unchanged from the last time she had seen her. Last time having been the night Faith had beaten her up, broken her arm, and then run off when Angel wanted no part of her. Buffy felt white-hot fury flood through her veins and started to stand up.

"Sit down, Buffy, please! No need to turn this café into a battleground."

Buffy looked around. There were at least fifty people close by, enjoying their drinks and meals, chattering, reading. People who could get hurt if she and Faith started fighting here. Reason won out and she sat down again, glaring at Faith instead.

"What do you want, Faith?" She asked, her voice trembling with fury.

"You're a hard girl to catch up with, Buffy." Faith said. "I've been trying to get you on your own for weeks now and it never worked."

"If you want to finish what you started six months ago I'll have to warn you. I will not be taken by surprise again."

Faith looked down, looking embarrassed. Which was about the last thing Buffy had expected. Now that she was taking a closer look, Faith didn't look at all like she was here to start a fight. She was dressed in a long skirt, carried no weapons that Buffy could see, and there were dark rings under her eyes, as if she hadn't slept properly in weeks or longer.

What was going on here?

"I'm not here to fight you, Buffy." Faith said, looking up again. Buffy had trouble reading the look in her dark eyes.

"Why are you here then?" Buffy asked, unable to keep the hostility from her voice. She owed Faith one for beating her up like that. She was the Slayer, damn it, and Faith had beaten her to a pulp. Intellectually Buffy knew that it had been due to the fact that she had not expected Faith to attack her, and certainly not with Slayer strength.

Emotionally though, Buffy wanted nothing better than to beat Faith's face into the ground repeatedly.

" Buffy, I ... I wanted to say ... fuck, I'm not good at this. I ... I am sorry. I spent a lot of time thinking these last few months. Thinking about what I did and, more important, why I did it. I .. I wanted to ... explain to you ... explain what happened."

Faith balled her fists under the table, shaking her head.

"When ... when the Watchers attacked the Hyperion all these months ago, I ... I watched the fight from upstairs. I saw how you and Angel fought together. Fuck it, I'd been in love with him since I first met him and not only had he never so much as noticed it, now he had found you, someone as strong as he was, someone who could fight by his side.

"I was furious, disappointed. And then ... then I saw the Watcher aim his gun at you and I ... I said nothing."

Buffy didn't say a word, her face a frozen mask. Faith didn't meet her gaze.

"I didn't even think about it. I saw him aim his gun and the warning died in my throat. Then he shot you and ... I don't know how, but ... but suddenly I felt so strong. It was like someone had poured liquid fire into my veins and I felt great, reborn. I realized that I was as strong as you now and I ... I sort of convinced myself that it was meant to be this way. Now, if I could only beat you, Angel would get together with me."

Faith gave a brittle laugh.

"Stupid, I know, but ... I don't know what was going on in my head. I just don't know. I kept my power secret, I trained, and when you and I were alone in the Hyperion I used my chance and jumped you. Well, ... you know what happened then."

Buffy was still silent as a statue. Faith found her courage rapidly dwindling.

"When Angel brushed me off, kept me from ... from hurting you, I ... something inside me snapped. Suddenly I realized that he didn't love me. That he would never love me. It was, it was like my whole life just broke into pieces at that moment. I had always been certain, completely certain that Angel and me were meant to be together, especially when I had been given that power completely out of the blue, but then ..."

Finally she looked up again and into Buffy's frozen eyes.

"These last few months I realized just what I had done. I ... I never thought I would be capable of something like that. Trying to intentionally hurt someone, to ... I'm scared, Buffy. Scared of what I have become. I tried to get a grip on it, but ... I can't. I just can't. I ... I am sorry, Buffy. I know that doesn't really cut it, but I'm sorry."

Buffy could clearly see the desperation on Faith's face, but something like a red haze had descended over her mind. She had hated Faith even before that little revelation about the day Buffy had nearly died from being shot. Faith actually had the nerve to come here and expect ...

"I know I don't have the right to ask you for your forgiveness, but ..." Faith began.

"You certainly don't." Buffy interrupted her. "Honestly, Faith! You come here, tell me your little sob story, and expect that everything is well between us? What did you think I would say? Faith, glad that you're back. Don't worry about your beating me up or your letting me be shot at! It's all forgotten, I don't hold a grudge. Is that what you expected?"

"No, I ..."

Buffy jumped to her feet, the chair falling to the floor behind her with a clatter that sent ripples of silence through the restaurant. Everyone was looking their way now.

"Stay away from me, Faith! Stay the hell away from me, Angel, and the others! If I ever see your face again I will tear it off, understand?"

Buffy stormed out of the restaurant, trembling with anger, trying to get her pulse down to normal again. The nerve of that bitch! To come here and ... and ... Buffy screamed in frustration and started toward the Hyperion. She needed to let off some steam.

#

Faith looked after Buffy as she left and sighed deeply. This had gone just wonderful, but what else had she expected? Buffy had every right to be angry with her after all that had happened. Maybe she should have left out the part about not warning her of the bullet coming her way.

No, she resolved. If this was to work she needed to be honest with them. She had tried to do this on her own and failed miserably. She needed them.

Every morning she looked at herself in the mirror and saw the face of a person she wouldn't have wanted to know. Someone who had stabbed her friends in the back. Someone who had tried to hurt the girlfriend of the best man she had ever known. Someone who had been given the power to make a difference and had abused it in the most terrible way.

She couldn't handle it. She just couldn't handle being this person. She had hoped that just staying away from them, away from the people she had hurt, would heal the wounds, but it hadn't. In her dreams she saw Buffy, lying on the floor, hurt and beaten, looking up at her with confusion in her eyes. What had Buffy ever done to her to deserve this?

She saw the deep disappointment in Angel's eyes. Not hatred, not disdain, not even rage, just a look of disappointment so deep that it had chilled her down to her soul. He had cared for her, she knew that, though never in the way she had wanted him to, and she had let him down. Worse, she had betrayed him, stabbed him in the back.

Then there was Spike. Spike whom she had used for her revenge plans. Bought him off with her sex like a cheap whore. She had fooled him in the worst way, made him an accomplice in her insane plan to steal Angel away from Buffy.

She had to make this right somehow, whatever it took. Angel, Spike, the others, they were the only real friends she'd ever had. Even Buffy, whom she had never gotten close to because of her jealousy. They were the only family she had left since that night over six years ago when she had lost her parents to the monsters.

The monsters. She saw one every time she looked into the mirror. Saw it behind her eyes, waiting to burst free. She felt the abyss close to her, felt it breathing down her neck, waiting for her to fall down into it. She didn't want this to happen, didn't want to become a monster, but without even noticing she had come so very close.

She needed to get away from the abyss. She had to prove to them that she was sorry, that she wanted to be a better person.

The only problem was that she had absolutely no idea how to do that.

13  -  Cryptic Answers and Awkward Reunions

#
 

The boos of the patrons accompanied Angel off the stage. He had sung the song "Walking in Memphis" and actually thought that he had managed it quite well. At least if one compared it to the other times he had sung here in the Caritas. Which wasn't saying a whole lot, of course.

The Host was waiting for him behind the stage, smiling gently and shaking his head.

"I wish I could read auras without the singing," he mused, "at least in your case."

"Skip the funnies and tell me what you saw!"

Weeks of searching for the Necronomicon had worn away Angel's patience and he was all out of it right now. The Host looked at him for a long moment.

"I wish I could tell you more details, but I'm afraid there is no clear course visible. I can tell you some of the things I can see in your aura, but I don't think it will be of much help to you."

"Even a little bit would be more than I have right now." Angel said.

"Very well. I see blood in your aura, much of it. Blood is the key to dreams, yours and those of others. You will find the book or it will find you, I am not sure. You must have faith. An old one will try and use you for his own gains. A door will open and it will lead to death and worse. In the end only blood will remain, the blood of one you love more than life itself."

The Host sighed. "I wish I could tell you more, handsome, but everything is muddled."

He reached out with a hand and moved it a hair's breath over Angel's chest, as if brushing over an invisible barrier.

"There is much power here, dark power. It surrounds you like a shroud. The book, yes. The Necronomicon is here, with you. The two of you are connected. You worked its magic and it will not let you go. That is why you will find it. Unless it finds you first."

Angel frowned at the strange words of the Host, but the green-skinned demon wouldn't say anymore. Walking out of the Caritas he tried to make sense of the words his friend had told him.

The blood of one he loved more than life itself? Buffy's blood? No, he wouldn't let it come to that. An old one would try and use him? A member of the Vampirium?

He also remembered that Buffy had seen Faith a few weeks ago. When the Host had said "You must have faith" had he meant "You must have Faith"?

#

Buffy stormed into the Hyperion, still trembling with fury, looking for someone she could either beat up on or subject to furious rant. Considering that only her friends lived here it would probably be the latter.

There were sounds from one of the doors. The room behind it had started out life as a dining room, but Angel had converted it into a large library. Library equaled Giles, Buffy thought. He was always good at listening to her rants, good meaning that he was normally too flustered to interrupt her.

She walked in and stopped as if she had run into an invisible barrier. Giles was inside, true, but he was not reading a book. Giles in a library without reading a book? That alone might have sufficed to make her world view collapse in on itself, but not only was Giles not reading, he looked to be having a good time chatting with ... Darla?

"... been years since I saw a good performance of A Midsummer Night's Dream." Darla said.

"I hear one of the local theaters gives a very good accounting of it, though they are probably ruining it with their American accents."

Darla laughed and Buffy stared. When exactly had Giles and Darla gotten so chummy? One could almost think they ... no, don't go there! That way was madness and ugly thoughts about older men doing ... don't go there!

Buffy quietly retreated from the room to the sound of more laughter from Darla and decided to make her way to the training room. Some physical exertion was needed now, yes. Maybe if she pounded the punching bag into little free-floating particles she might feel better.

#

The sun would rise in a few more minutes and Spike approached the Hyperion, having spent most of the night beating up local snitches and informants. None of them knew anything about a magic book or who might have hired an assassin to go after Cordelia. Spike had worked all night and all he had to show for it were a few broken bones - other people's bones - and a need for sleep and blood.

He was about to go in when he smelled something in the air. Something ... no, someone he knew. Someone who's scent was all-too familiar to him. Spike balled his fists and smiled. Maybe this night wouldn't be a total write-off just yet.

He made his way around the Hotel without making a sound, his form melting into the shadows, and soon found his prey. She was leaning against the wall, spying through a window, and was oblivious to his presence.

Spike sneaked up behind her and cleared his throat.

"Hello, Faith!"

The girl spun around and threw a kick his way, but he easily blocked it, still smiling.

"Spike!"

"Nice that you still recognize me, pet!" He half-smiled, half-growled. "I see that you still haven't developed much of a brain, though. Coming here instead of running to the ends of the Earth doesn't say much for your smarts."

"Spare me the smart-ass remarks, Spike!" She snarled at him. "I'm not here to get into a fight with you."

Spike threw a glance through the tiny window she had looked in through and saw that it showed the inside of the training room. In the far corner Buffy was pounding away at the punching bag like there was no tomorrow.

"From the looks of her I wouldn't go in there," Spike said, "unless you're planning to get yourself pounded into powder. The Slayer looks pretty pissed."

"I saw her earlier today." Faith said. Spike couldn't quite keep the surprise off his face. "I wanted ... I wanted to apologize to her. For what I did."

"And what, she wasn't interested in your apologies?" Spike said with mock surprise. "Who'd have thought that? She certainly knows how to hold a grudge against people that break her arms and beat her bloody."

Faith almost winced at his words, which surprised Spike more. Something had changed about her, that much was for certain. He wasn't quite sure what to make of this new Faith yet.

"She has a right to be angry with me." Faith said, then looked up at him. "So do you. Spike, I ... I'm sorry that I ... that I used you the way I did. I ..."

"This is not a good topic, pet!" He growled at her.

She looked down again and Spike fumed. He had taught her the moves, the moves she had used to hurt Buffy, and he had been dump enough to let himself be bought with a few wild nights of sex. It made him want to beat her into a pulp right here and now.

"I have to say this!" Faith insisted. "I am sorry, Spike! I never meant to ... I don't know what was going on in my head at that time. The only thing I could think of was that Buffy had stolen Angel from me, never mind the fact that I'd never had him in the first place. I just wanted to get back at her and you ..."

"I was just a dumb fool in the right place, is that it?" He growled.

Her eyes met his again and he was surprised by the amount of pain and sadness he saw in them.

"I never meant to get you involved in this, Spike. It was only when you showed me how little I yet knew about fighting that I realized that I needed you. And ... and that pretty much was all there is to it as far as my messed-up brain was concerned. Spike needed to kick Buffy's ass. So I ..."

She sighed, stopping her babbling.

"For what it's worth ... I'm sorry Spike. I'm truly sorry. We never much liked each other. I remember how much I used to tease you and how often you almost tore my head off. Especially after our first bout in the gym."

It almost brought a smile to her lips, but Spike was not amused. That had been when she'd still been a normal human, no stronger than any other teen girl out there, and she had provoked him into a sparring match. Overconfidence on his part had resulted in him being flipped on his back with Faith sitting down on his chest. Moments later Angel had come in and exploded into a laughing fit.

"Bringing up those good old memories is not the way to get on my good side!"

Faith quickly vanished her smile and looked at him again.

"What I'm trying to say here, Spike, is that I'm sorry. We didn't much like each other, but I was wrong to use you like that. I made a mistake, I messed up. I don't know what else to say."

Spike didn't know exactly when he'd slipped into demon face and he didn't care. He surged forward, pressing Faith into the wall, holding her by the wrists, growling into her face.

"And you think that makes it all well again, vacuum-brain? You think you can just turn up here, go on about how you're sorry, and everything's forgotten? You're even more of a fool than I thought."

"I'm not asking for everything to be well again." She yelled back at him, but not making a move to pry herself loose. "I'm just asking you to give me a chance to make it up. Is that really so much to ask?"

The words took the wind out of his sails. Second chances. He remembered how, just eight months ago, a Slayer that had killed many of his people walked into the Hyperion, looking like she was going to her own execution, and reached her hand out to him. Reached her hand out to Spike, who hated all Slayers ever since he had lost his princess to one of them nearly a quarter century earlier.

He remembered thinking how anyone deserved a second chance. After all, if someone like himself had gotten one, than everyone else had just as much claim to it.

Still, this was Faith. Faith, who had fooled him into betraying his best friend. Who had hurt the girlfriend of his best friend. Who had used him like a dumb puppet.

"And how exactly to you plan to make it up, pet?" He growled.

"I don't know." She yelled at him. "I don't know, are you satisfied now? I don't have the slightest idea. I only know that I have to do it."

He stared at her for another minute or so, then slowly let her go. He believed her, which was probably very foolish of him, considering how she had fooled him before, but he believed her.

"So what now?" He asked her. "You plan on just going in there and say sorry to everyone you meet? Won't work with Buffy from the looks of it. And I'm not sure about Peaches. Seems to me that he'd be swaying between giving you a second change and tearing your head off, depending on where the mood swings."

"Well, I was sort of hoping to talk to Angel alone first. Since I made such a mess of things with Buffy."

"Gotta warn you, Angel is not in the best of moods right now. What with the Necronomicon and assassinations ..."

"What about the Necronomicon?" Faith asked.

Spike swore under his breath. Why was he telling her all this? He didn't trust her, not in the least, and here he was, his mouth one step ahead of his brain again.

"Nothing. Not your problem. If you want to get back into our good graces you got your work cut out for you without worrying about anything else."

He sighed.

"Give me a phone number where I can reach you," he said, "and I will talk to Peaches. He'll call you."

Faith gave him a thankful smile and scribbled her number on a piece of paper.

"Thank you, Spike, I ..."

"Just get out of here before I regret it."

She nodded and walked away into the approaching dawn. Spike looked after her for a moment, then quickly went into the Hyperion to escape the first rays of the rising sun.

Go to Part 14