Darkling

Rating: PG-13

Author's Name: Kennie Gajos

Author's Email: kennie_gajos@yahoo.co.uk

Summary: Pre-pre-pre-prequel to One Day in Your Life.  The Scooby Gang and Angel Investigations travel seperately to a small village in England to stop a vampire from destroying the world and to save the soul of a young girl.  Will they meet?

Spoilers: BtVS: Post Pangs, pre Hush. Angel: Post I will Remember You, pre Hero.

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~Part: 1~

Day One, Tuesday, Sunnydale, California, USA

The sun beamed down on Sunnydale as a blonde-haired teenager strolled down the quiet suburban street. This in itself was suspicious. Nothing but evil beamed at the Mouth of Hell. Evidently the sun was planning something.

Turning into the driveway of 1630 Revello Drive the teenager stopped when she caught sight of a vehicle parked in it then ran to the door.

"Mom, what’s Giles’ car doing in the drive?" Buffy said as she burst through the door.

Buffy’s mother looked up in surprise. She had never quite got used to her teenaged daughter’s dramatic entrances.

"Well, uh, as a matter of fact I’m waiting for you." Giles said as he got to his feet. "I called you and Willow said that you had gone to see your mother so I came here. To wait for you." Giles smiled nervously. "How’s college?"

"Giles, get to the point." Buffy said, slightly amused.

"Well, um, the thing is…" Buffy glared at him and the Englishman stopped stalling with a sigh. "The Watcher’s Council telephoned me early this morning. They never quite got the point of the time differences. The thing is, Buffy, They want a favour." He shifted and glanced at his feet.

"Well they can forget it!" Buffy said dramatically. "I told them. I’m not working for them any more. I quit, remember Giles? A little matter of…Angel…dying and them not helping?"

"Yes, but they have a point this time." Giles took off his glasses and polished them nervously. "And you do get to visit England."

"Oh, yay. Land of tea and scones," Giles looked up sharply, slightly offended. "No Giles. I’m not going."

"These monsters, they’re going to destroy entire cities, Buffy, as the Slayer you have no choice."

"Read my lips Giles. I’m…not…going! End of discussion."

Joyce Summers had been silent up until now, watching the battle between the Slayer and her former Watcher.

"Buffy," She said sharply as she stood up from the sofa. "People will die. You’re going to England and that’s final."

Buffy swung round and stared at her Mom incredulously. "Mom! You’re on their side now?"

"I’m on the side of the thousands of innocent people who will die unless you do something." Said Joyce firmly. "I raised you to do the right thing. Do the right thing Buffy."

Day One, Tuesday, Los Angeles, California, USA

Cordelia sighed and slumped down on her desk. "It’s so hot in here. Why can’t I open a blind?" She whined.

"It’s noon." Said Angel without looking up from his book.

"So? It’s not as if I’m going to melt or any…Oh. Got it."

Silence reigned once more in the stuffy office. Suddenly the outer door opened then slammed shut behind the newcomer. Cordelia looked up at the dark-haired man pacing the office.

"Finally." Cordy exclaimed. "Well, when does the AC man arrive?"

"He doesn’t," Doyle replied angrily. "I stand in line for hours only to be told they can’t possibly send a man around ‘til next week." The Irish half-demon slumped down in a chair.

"Next week!" Cordy exclaimed. "That’s a whole week away. How will I live? My make-up’s already beginning to melt!"

"I told them that."

"Very un-funny Doyle."

Doyle gasped and his face twisted in pain. Pictures and words flashed across his eyes as he trembled in agony. Angel and Cordelia sprang into action. Standing next to Doyle, all they could do was wait until the vision stopped.

Doyle panted as his mind adjusted to the intense pain. Slowly, he opened his eyes and focused on the anxious pair in front of him. He grabbed the mug of scotch from Angel and tossed it down his throat. Ignoring the burning sensation in his oesophagus, he handed the cup back to Angel, took the bottle of scotch from him and began to gulp it down.

"Oh my God!" Cordelia stared, astounded, at Doyle.

Angel looked at her and raised his eyebrows. Cordelia glanced at him then stared back at Doyle who was chugging away at the bottle of scotch as if it was his salvation. When the scotch had gone. Doyle sighed and looked around. "We got any more?" He asked.

"God!" Cordy exclaimed. "I knew you liked your booze but this is ridiculous."

Doyle winced as lightening arced through his brain. Angel laid a restraining hand on Cordelia’s arm.

"She’s right," He said in a quieter voice. "What’s wrong Doyle?"

"You mean beside the crippling pain inside my skull?"

"I thought the headaches went away after the vision?" Said Cordelia huffily.

"Yeah. So did I." Doyle cradled his head in his hands and willed the explosions behind his eyes to go away.

"What did you see?" Angel asked, his concern for Doyle evident.

Doyle squinted up at him. "How do you feel about England?"

Day One, Tuesday, Sunnydale, California

The Scooby Gang had assembled in Xander’s basement and were waiting for Buffy to tell them what was on her mind.

"Er, Buffy? You’re kinda making me nauseous with all the pacing. Any chance of telling all before I barf?" Xander said with a nervous smile.

Buffy looked up and stopped mid-pace. She looked at the ensembled group’s concerned faces and offered them a half-smile. They stared back at her. "O-kay. Uh, remember how I said there was no way on earth I was ever gonna do anything the Watcher’s Council demanded again?" They nodded, "Well, they asked if I could do them like a teeny, tiny favour and go fight this big…thing in England. And Mom kinda demanded I go, so…" Buffy shrugged. The group in front of her stared back. "Tough audience." She commented to herself, raising her eyebrows ever so slightly.

"Buffy, no." Willow said, breaking the silence. "Remember ‘Killer of the dead’? Turning your back? Firing Wesley?"

"Yay." Said Xander. The others turned and stared at him. "What? The guy was a wimp. I can’t be happy that he’s not around any more?" He asked defensively.

"Guys, hundreds of people die if I don’t go. And that’s just England. What happens when this…thing moves on to America? We’re talking millions. And by the time it reaches us it’ll probably be so big I won’t be able to kill it!"

"Question." Anya spoke up. "Do you actually know what you’ll be fighting?"

"Well, not exactly. It’s big. And it’s in England."

"And?"

"It’s big and it’s in England." Buffy shrugged "And that’s where I’m going to go."

"Are you out of your mind?" Xander exclaimed. "Not only are you doing precisely what the Watcher’s Council want to you to do, which in case you’ve forgotten, is something you swore you’d never do again, but you’re going to go do it in England?"

"He’s right." Said Anya. "You’re going to a foreign country, that you’ve never been to before, to fight something, but you’re not sure what. I’ll never understand humans."

"Giles is going with me. I’ve made up my mind. I’m going to England. Nothing any of you guys can say will change my mind." Buffy set her face, convinced she was doing the right thing.

"I don’t believe this! You’re just going to take off to England, leaving us behind I might add, to fight something but you don’t know exactly what?" Willow shifted uneasily. "That’s crazy Buffy, where’s sane Buffy? I like sane Buffy, she talks sense. Oh God!" Willow sat down abruptly. "You’re going to England."

"I leave tomorrow." Buffy avoided looking at them all. "They’re paying for a first class ticket there and back,"

"Oh good, they do actually expect you to come back." Said Xander sarcastically.

"There and back," Buffy stressed. "I’ll be briefed when I get there and then they’ll put me up in a first class hotel right in the middle of all the action."

"What about college?" Asked Willow. "What’ll you tell them?"

Buffy shrugged. "My grandmother died."

"Oh." Willow subsided, momentarily defeated.

"I’ll send you all a postcard. I’ll even bring you all back some of those scones Giles is always raving about!"

"I’m going with you." Xander stood up and prepared to defend his position.

Willow followed his example. "Me too." She told the Slayer defiantly.

Anya looked at all of them. "I’m not staying in Sunnydale by myself. It’s not safe!"

Day One, Tuesday, Los Angeles, California,

"England!" Cordelia cried in disbelief. "You expect me to go to England? Land of fish and chips? Homeland of Giles? And Wesley! You can’t be serious. There must be another way we can help this…Dicey"

"Darcy." Doyle corrected her. "A good old-fashioned Irish name."

"Mr Darcy was Irish?" Cordelia asked incredulously. "Wow, Colin Firth really can’t do an Irish accent!"

Angel blinked as he mentally dealt with the conversation stopper. "Cordy, she lives in England, she’s in trouble, I need to help her."

"Okay, sure, you need to help her, but do I? I mean, all the way to Europe and not even a stopover in Paris. Come on!"

"Cordy." Angel growled. "I can’t do this alone. I haven’t been to England for a hundred and ten years. It’s going to have changed."

"How? It’s England for God’s sake."

Angel sighed and looked to Doyle for support who started when he realised that he was supposed to get involved.

"He’s got a point there Cordy. I mean, England’s got electricity now."

"Cordelia, I need people who can get about during the day and report back to me. This Darcy needs us to be there for her. Now."

"It’s all very well and good sayin’ that, but how are you gonna get there?" Doyle said.

"Air-freight."

"What?"

"I’ll be in a big crate in the hold, you two’ll be sitting in the lap of luxury in the passenger section. Cordelia, find out where we can get hold of big crates and how much it’ll cost to get us all there and back." Cordelia nodded and went out of the room with a sigh, resigned to going to England. Doyle turned to Angel.

"Angel? Should I be worried about this Giles guy?"
 
 

~Part: 2~

Day Two, Wednesday, Sunnydale, California

Xander took a deep breath and nervously approached his boss.

"Uh, Pete? Can I have a word?"

Pete looked up from a pile of paperwork he was in the middle of working through and blinked owlishly as he changed his point of focus from facts and figures to the here and now. "Sure, uhhh, Xander." He said and leaned back in his chair. "What’s up?"

"I need some time off."

Pete sighed and shuffled some of the papers covering his desk into something vaguely resembling an ordered pile. "I’m afraid, uhhh, Xander, that you’ve simply not been working here long enough to be allowed time off for anything other than illness."

"Oh." Xander shrugged. "Then I quit." He stood to leave.

"One moment!" Pete jack-knifed forward in his seat. "What do you need the time off for?"

Xander desperately struggled to come up with something that sounded a little better than ‘to save the world from demons from some place in England’. "Because, um, because…because my girlfriend will make my life hell if we don’t go to Disneyland like I promised." He blurted before almost hitting himself on the head for coming up with such a lame excuse.

Pete nodded to himself. "In that case you can have the time off." He told Xander. "I’ve been in that kind of situation myself."

Xander looked doubtfully at Pete, who was not much more than five feet tall, weighed roughly two hundred pounds and was balding before he realised with a jolt that his boss had told him that he could have the time off. "Uh, thanks!" Xander said as he beat a hasty retreat.

Day Two, Wednesday, Los Angeles, California

 Cordelia smiled triumphantly as she exited from the computer system, a sheaf of computer printouts in her hand. She felt confident that when Angel read the information she had, he’d decide that he didn’t really need to take her with him to England.

"Oh, Angel!" She called out. "Bad news about the trip!"

Angel walked out of his office and into the small reception area, Doyle following him.

"What is it?" He asked, looking concerned.

Cordelia handed him the printouts. "Our virtually non-existent budget won’t stretch to accommodation, car rental, air-freight costs and tickets for both Doyle and I." She explained as Angel skimmed the information contained within the printouts. "Did you know that they charge by size and not by weight!"

Angel handed the printouts to Doyle who started to read them as Angel brooded. Cordelia suppressed a grin.

"We have two options." Cordelia informed them. "One involves carpentry and the other involves me not going."

"Not gonna happen." Angel told Cordelia. "I need you there."

Doyle frowned. Carpentry?
 
 

~Part: 3~

Day Three, Thursday, Los Angeles, California

Cordelia watched Angel pace up and down by her desk from where she sat, surrounded by luggage. She jumped out of her seat as the office door flew open with a crash.

"I’m here!" Doyle declared before the door flew back and closed in his face. The door opened again, less exuberantly this time. "Ow." Doyle said, rubbing his nose. The half-demon moved his suitcase the necessary inch over the doorstep in order to prevent the door from closing and entered the room. "What’s up?" He asked.

"Angel’s having a panic attack at the thought of flying." Cordelia informed him.

"I’m not having a panic attack." Angel said.

Doyle looked at Angel. It was hard to tell in the dim light of the office, but he thought that the vampire looked even paler than normal. Doyle glanced at his watch. "Bit late for that isn’t it? The men are coming to pick him up in a minute."

Doyle looked at the coffin that lay on the floor, its lid open, just waiting for Angel to get in. He was proud of that coffin and the fact that it had taken him less than a day to build it. Sure it looked a little rough, but it was a cheaper way to travel then by crate. And he’d even managed to make sure there was enough room for a cooler of blood.

"I’m not having a panic attack!" Angel insisted. Cordelia and Doyle looked sceptically at him. "I’m just a little nervous at the thought of spending eight hours inside a chunk of metal that’s suspended in midair."

"It’s called aerodynamics." Cordelia fought back a grin. Who’d have thought that Angel would be scared of flying!

"It’s called unnatural!" Angel said.

Doyle opened the refrigerator. "What you need is a nice meal. Nothin’ calms the mind like a full stomach." He told Angel as he carefully poured blood into Angel’s favourite mug. He grinned at Angel as he handed him the mug. "Drink up!"

Angel hesitated, looking from the mug to Cordelia and Doyle and then back again.

Cordelia sighed impatiently. "If it’ll make you feel better, we won’t look!" She huffed and turned her back on him. Doyle followed suit and the two of them waited.

After a slight pause, they heard Angel drink the blood then carefully place the mug on Cordelia’s desk before falling to the floor. They turned back.

"What did you put in the blood?" Cordelia asked calmly as they surveyed their unconscious boss.

Doyle smirked proudly. "Enough tranquillisers to knock out a herd of elephants."

"Good idea." Cordelia complimented him. "Who gave it to you?" She asked suspiciously.

"I saw it on TV."

"Figures."

Day Three, Thursday, Business Class lounge, LA airport, California

Xander was watching the aeroplanes take off. Anya stood by his side. "Oh wow, look, there goes a really big one!" The typical teenage male exclaimed.

Giles rolled his eyes and sighed.

"Big plane." Anya said as she pointed towards a different plane.

"Oh please! You’re not even trying." Xander placed his arm around her shoulders. "You have to get into the spirit of it."

"Look!" Anya said triumphantly, "A coffin. Someone died."

"Okay. Ew." Said Xander, pushing himself away from the glass window and sitting down in a chair. "I'll never be able to watch planes again!" He grumbled to himself.

Anya cast one more longing look at the roughly hewn coffin and pulled herself away from the sight. She sat down next to Xander and turned slightly away from him. "I'm here now. Are you happy? I'm not."

Buffy paced uneasily.

"Is there something wrong Buffy?" Asked Giles.

"It’s weird. My spider-sense is tingling. If we were catching this flight at night, I’d say there was a vamp, nearby. But it’s broad daylight and the sun is pouring in through those windows so there couldn’t possibly be one near, could there?" Buffy looked at Giles, seeking reassurance.

Day Three, Thursday, Business Class lounge, LA airport, California

Cordelia stopped and grabbed Doyle’s jacket. He lurched backwards.

"Jeez Cordelia, what’s up? Not that I mind you being…"

"That’s Xander. And everyone else!" Cordy groaned. "And I thought if we travelled business class we’d cut out the weirdo’s. And get to meet some rich guys. How’d they get the money to travel business?"

"That’s not the point Cordy. Didn’t you say Buffy had some kind of vamp radar, that she could sense them if they came too close to her." Cordelia looked blank. "What about Angel?"

"Oh! Oh God yeah! Buffy’s hypersensitive when it comes to Angel. Like major. What do we do?"

"We pray they don’t put Angel anywhere near Buffy and avoid them like the plague. Let’s go hide in the bar." He placed his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. Cordelia looked at his arm, then at him then back at his arm. Carefully, as if she was picking up a really smelly sock, she peeled his arm off of her and dropped it.

"You’re still drunk aren’t you!"

She stalked off. Swaying a little, Doyle caught up with her and the pair walked off through the crowded airport together.

"Am not!"

"Are too."

"Am not."

"You think everything’s an occasion to go hide in the bar." Cordelia continued.

"I do not."

"Do to."

The argument trailed off into the distance.

Day Three, Thursday, Los Angeles Airport, California

Doyle glanced at Cordelia and smothered a grin. Paranoia about being recognised had seized Queen C and she’d taken advantage of the nearest giftshop to purchase the largest hat and pair of sunglasses Doyle had ever seen. And as if that wasn’t enough, she’d also covered her hair with a lime green and purple scarf that clashed horribly with the bright yellow rim of her plastic sunglasses.

Doyle didn’t think that he’d ever seen anyone look so very ridiculous and adorable. Which pretty much settled it in his eyes. If he could look at Cordelia when she was dressed like that and still find her the most desirable woman he’d ever seen then it must be love.

He opened his mouth, intending to ask her if she wanted to get a meal or something when they got to England as she peered over the magazine she was using as a shield to hide her face.

"Cordelia…" He began.

"Oh my God!" Cordelia squeaked, interrupting him. Doyle turned to look at what she was staring at.

A group of five people were walking down the aisle towards them. Cordelia hid behind the magazine again.

"Tell me when they’ve gone!" She hissed.

Doyle looked at the group again. It was headed by a typical blonde Californian girl, who was being followed by a distinguished-looking middle-aged man. Behind them came a pretty redhead who seemed more introspective than the rest of the group. Behind her was a young teenaged boy and a brunette girl who didn’t seem to quite fit into the world. So this was Buffy and friends.

Doyle watched them carefully as they approached, feeling a pang of jealousy as he realised that the boy must be the infamous Xander. The jealousy ebbed however, when Xander put his arm around the brunette with a familiarity that suggested intimacy.

They passed and Doyle nudged Cordelia to let her know that she no longer had to worry about being recognised.

"Have they gone?" She asked in a whisper.

"Yes. And no." Doyle replied, grinning widely.

Cordelia frowned. "Huh?"

Doyle indicated the seats behind them with a jerk of his head. "They’re behind us." He glanced out of the window, idly wondering how long it would be before the stewardesses started offering free drinks. His head was still agony.

Cordelia groaned. "Things really can’t get any worse!" She whispered to herself.

"Want to bet?" Doyle asked, chuckling as he watched the airline employees scuttle about on the tarmac below. "Take a look outside, princess." He invited.

Glancing at Doyle warily, Cordelia leaned over him and looked out of the window. "What am I looking at?" She asked.

Not trusting himself enough to be able to answer her with a straight face, Doyle merely pointed to where Angel’s coffin was being loaded directly underneath them.

Day Three, Somewhere over the Pacific, Trouble with an engine (Although the passengers don't know)

Doyle staggered back from the dinky aeroplane toilet, random thoughts lazily drifting through his brain.

He knew he'd had a good idea a moment ago, but what was it?

Where does aeroplane toilet waste go? On second thoughts, he didn't want to find that one out.

Spike Angel's blood? No, he'd done that already.

Aeroplane companies would make a bomb if they started charging for alcohol? No, everyone knew that.

Find Cordelia and tell her how much she meant to him? Yes! That was the idea! And amazingly, it actually seemed to make sense. To Doyle at least.

Doyle looked around him, struggling to focus. Hold on. He thought. Where am I? He squinted and tilted his head thirty-five degrees to the right, a sure-fire cure of his in order to enable him to focus in times of blind drunkenness. The interior of the plane rushed into focus, through his eyes, down his brain and melted out of his ears. At least, that was what it felt like to Doyle.

Concentrating hard, he looked around him in an attempt to locate his seat.

Full, full, full...ah, empty. Of course, those seats were his and Cordy's. Cordy was there, her head buried in a magazine and right across the aisle from her there was an empty seat. This was his chance! He could tell the woman he loved his innermost secret feelings.

Doyle plodded along the aisle, trying to think sober thoughts. He fell into the empty chair - nearly squashing a businessman in the next seat - and slumped down in it, almost sliding off of the edge.

Feeling nauseous, he took a deep breath, exhaled and turned to Cordelia.

"I love you!" He announced loudly.

Cordelia slowly turned to face him. "I beg your pardon." She said icily.

Doyle continued, determined to get his feelings for her off of his chest. "Your face is so beautiful...Your lovely brown eyes...your full, pouty mouth..." Doyle squinted at Cordelia's mouth. "Are you not wearing lipstick today?"

Cordelia opened her mouth and, sensing an interruption, Doyle ploughed onwards. "Your arms." He continued. "And your legs!" He groaned. "Everything about you." He leaned closer and dropped his voice a fraction lower. "I sometimes dream about you." He confided. "I'm stroking your hair, your soft hair, all thick and soft and short... did you cut your hair? Anyway, then I usually have to go away and stroke something else, but that's not the point. The point is that I love everything about you. Your face, your glasses, your wrinkles, your stuffy suit..." Doyle realised what he was saying and leaned even closer to Cordelia to get a clearer look at her. "Hey!" He said, sending a wave of whiskey-soaked breath Cordelia's way. "You're not Cordelia!" He accused. He looked even closer. "You're a guy!" Doyle belatedly realised. And it was a guy he recognised.

Carefully attempted to school his expression, Doyle got up and walked away, followed by a wave of laughter from Buffy and her friends.

Of all the people he had to mistake Cordy for, he mused bitterly, why did it have to be the old guy travelling with the Slayer?

Meanwhile, in the seat in front of Giles, a red-faced Cordelia slouched behind her magazine. She was desperately praying to the God she no longer truly believed in that the group behind her would recognise her and associate her with the drunken man that had just informed Giles that he liked to think about stroking his soft, thick hair!

Day Three, Thursday, Heathrow Airport, London, England.

Doyle awoke with a loud snort as Cordelia elbowed him sharply in the gut. Wearily, he rubbed his face and looked around the now deserted plane.

"Where is everybody?" He asked.

Cordelia rolled her eyes and got out of her seat to retrieve her hand luggage from the overhead storage unit. "They all got off." She explained tersely.

"Everyone?" Doyle asked with a glance to the seats behind him.

"Everyone." Cordelia confirmed.

Doyle grinned. "Y’know princess, I slept like a log. I don’t even remember takin’ off." He said, clambering out of his seat and into the aisle where he stretched.

"We’d better go." Cordelia suggested with a glance up the aisle to where an impatient stewardess was glaring at her watch. "We’ve still got to pick Angel up, get a taxi to the train station and then we’ve got two train changes before we even get close to St. Treharne."

Doyle nodded and headed up the aisle towards the exit. The stewardess bared her teeth at them in something that vaguely resembled a smile as they drew closer to her.

Suddenly, the door to the toilet flew open and Cordelia, recognizing the couple who tumbled out of the tiny compartment, quickly ducked behind Doyle.

Giggling, Xander and Anya straightened and looked around them. Catching sight of Doyle, their giggling turned into full-blown hysterics as they walked through the gateway and out into the airport.

Doyle checked his appearance. "Huh?" He asked, dumbfounded.

Day Three, Thursday, The Hilton, London, England

Buffy stood in the middle of her hotel suite and drank in the restrained elegance.

"Finally, some perks!" She said reverently.

Her eyes settled on a mini-refrigerator. Crossing the ankle-deep pile she opened the fridge and perused the contents. Candy, bottled water, champagne, some weird circular kind of spongy things and various types of fruit. Buffy spotted some of those scones Giles was always going on about and wondered if he had any. She smiled as she went to find the others.

Day Three, Thursday, The Hilton, London, England

"Oh man this sucks!" Exclaimed Xander. "Did you see the place Buffy’s been hooked up with? And we’re expected to share the smallest room in the whole damn hotel?"

"Actually, Willow and Anya have a smaller room." Said Giles. Xander glared at him and continued to speak. "I mean, where are we going to sleep? There’s only one bed! I’ll say it now and I’m prepared to say it again, there’s no way I’m sharing!" Xander broke off as there was a knock on the door. "That had better be management come to apologise for putting us in the wrong broom closet." He concluded as Giles opened the door.

Buffy strode into the room and stopped abruptly. She pushed her sunglasses down and surveyed the room. "Whoa."

"Yeah." Said Xander.

"You guys cannot seriously be considering sleeping in here." She said.

"I fear that there is nothing we can do about it." Said Giles. "It was the Watcher’s Council’s decision to allocate these rooms and we simply do not have adequate funds to do anything about it."

"Willow and Anya don’t even have their own bathroom." Xander said gloomily.

Buffy looked at Giles. "We may not have adequate funds but the Watcher’s Council sure as hell does. They didn’t want you guys coming in the first place so they’re trying to drive you back to America. Well, if you go, I go. And the sooner they realise that the better. For you guys."

"What’re you going to do?" Asked Xander hopefully.

"Change the subject. They’ve got some of those funny scone things you like and some weird spongy things in my fridge, you guys fancy some? We can collect Willow and Anya on the way."

"Uh, no thanks Buff. We’ve got to sit here and be depressed." Said Xander as he sat down on the edge of the feared double bed.

"We can phone the Watcher’s Council and get you guys different rooms." Continued Buffy.

"Okay then, scones it is." Xander jumped off the bed. "Come on Giles, scones and spongy things!"

Day Three, Thursday, Penzance, Cornwall, England

Cordelia and Doyle slipped into the Guards van a few minutes before the train was due to pull into Penzance train station. After furtively checking to make sure that no one was around, Doyle unlocked Angel's coffin whilst Cordelia stood guard.

"I just hope he's woken up." Cordelia said, her hands on her hips. "I mean, I can't drive over here what with their crazy backwards driving thingy and you're still way too drunk to be trusted behind the wheel!"

Angel flipped the coffin lid open. "Actually the drugs wore off five minutes before take-off."

Doyle examined the coffin for damage. He smiled to himself as he noted the deep gouges in the sides of the coffin. Just the right size for fingernails.

"And Home Alone 2? Not a good in-flight movie." Angel continued, standing up. "Remind me why I had to travel in a coffin."

"You wouldn't let me stay behind." Cordelia reminded him.

Angel stepped out of the coffin and glared at it. "Next time you can." He promised.

Doyle quickly shut the coffin lid and locked it as the train pulled into a deserted Penzance Station. Quickly, Angel and Doyle jumped down onto the platform and lifted the now empty coffin onto the deserted platform. Cordelia picked up a small vanity case and gingerly stepped off of the train as Doyle leaped back on it and started handing luggage down to Angel.

"What now?" Doyle asked as he handed the last suitcase to Angel and jumped back down onto the platform.

Angel closed the train doors as Cordelia spoke. "Now we collect the hire car, drive to St. Treharne and check into our hotel where I will get some much-deserved sleep, you will probably drink yourself into a stupor again and Angel will go out and find Darcy Regan. Any more questions?" She asked. Angel and Doyle exchanged a stupefied look before shaking their head. "Good." Cordelia said militantly, walking off towards the exit.

Angel and Doyle began to gather up luggage. "Think it's something in the air?" Doyle asked Angel as they started to follow Cordelia. Angel shrugged and promptly dropped a suitcase.

Day Three, Thursday, The Hilton Hotel, London, England

"What are they?" Asked a voice wonderingly.

"I think they’re some kind of…thing." Another replied.

"They’re crumpets." Giles said matter-of-factly as he strode past, pushing his glasses up.

"Wow." Said Xander. "What do they do?"

"They give you indigestion."

"You eat them?"

"Of course. They’re actually rather tasty…" Giles watched disgusted as Xander shoved an uncooked crumpet into his mouth. "When cooked, with butter and jam."

"Hey, you’re right! They are good." Xander quickly ate another one, guarding the plate of crumpets with his body as if afraid someone other than him might try to eat them.

Day Three, Thursday, 23 Hill Road, St. Treharne, Cornwall, England

Across the breadth of England and just North of the Lizard, a small grey and white cat turned into the driveway of an apartment block. Opposite the building, there was a picture perfect view of the twinkling lights of the fishing boats as they returned to the sheltered harbour. All was still and calm.

Day Three, Thursday, High Street, St Treharne, Cornwall, England

Angel prowled the quiet streets of St Treharne. Discovering they weren’t as tired as they had thought they would be, Cordelia and Doyle had left their hotel behind and gone in search of this small town’s nightlife. He had let them; they deserved this night of fun at least.

He wondered about Buffy. Cordelia and Doyle hadn’t told him that she had been on the plane but he had sensed her presence. What was she doing in England? Why wasn’t she fighting the monsters the Hellmouth threw out on a regular basis? Why had she seen fit to leave all that behind to come to England?

Angel pounded the grey English streets and tried to ignore the memories that were coming flooding back.

Day Three, Thursday, The Mermaid, Harbour Road, St Treharne, Cornwall, England

"All I’m saying is, America is far more advanced than England." Cordy smiled at the gorgeous Englishman.

He looked pissed off. "Yeah, you’re so advanced that your crime level is off the Richter scale and your average IQ equals that of an eight year old. Look, Cordelia? Admit it, America sucks."

"Not any more. Remember a little thing called the War of Independence? We won." Cordelia pointed out smugly.

"We were fighting France at the time. It was decided that we should withdraw our troops from America and let you guys have it. We haven’t lost a war yet." The man boasted proudly.

"Neither have we!" Cordelia was quick to say.

The man smirked. "Yes, because Vietnam was such a resounding victory."

"Hang on," Cordelia said, frowning. "If you can claim the War of Independence didn’t count because you withdrew your troops, then I think that I can claim that Vietnam doesn’t count because we drew."

"Two points." The man said, leaning forward in his seat. "One, the War of Independence was a civil war. We said bugger America, withdrew our people, left our convicts behind for you to take care of and you carried on fighting… yourselves! Two, there are no draws in warfare. You either capture the enemies territory or you lose!"

Cordelia smiled flirtatiously at the man. He really does have the most gorgeous blue eyes. She thought. "Well, what about nuclear firepower?" She asked. "America can destroy the world eleven times over… how many time can you guys destroy it?"

"Three."

"We win." Cordelia smirked.

The man rolled his eyes. "Cordelia, it doesn’t matter how many times a country can destroy the world. What matters is that they can."

Cordelia shook her head. "No, you don’t understand!" She said earnestly. "We can destroy the world more than you! I win!" She smiled happily.

The man sighed and got off of the barstool. "Goodbye Cordelia." He said, walking out of the pub.

Doyle sat in the seat he had vacated.

"Well, I guess that didn’t go so well huh?" He smiled as Cordy glared at him.

"Oh…Bite me."

"Happy to."

"Are you still drunk?"

Day Three, Thursday, 23c Hill Road, St. Treharne, Cornwall, England

Angel walked up the stairs leading to Darcy Regan’s apartment. He went to knock on the door and paused. He pushed the door experimentally and it swung open a few inches. Intrigued by the thought of a girl, especially one who was in danger, who would leave her door open and unlocked, his hand went to the doorbell. It just wasn’t safe to leave the door to your home unlocked, even if you did live in Britain. His hand was halfway to the doorbell, when he noticed the splintered wood around the lock. Angel began to frown as he began to realise that this was no ordinary case of breaking and entering, the smell was all wrong. He smelt, death. And it had been there recently, possibly within the last few minutes. Could still be in there in fact.

From inside the apartment, a woman screamed. Without giving it a single thought, Angel exploded through the door, his horror mounting as he realised that he was too late, Darcy Regan was already dead. He wouldn’t have been allowed in her home otherwise. His rage mounting against the innocent girl’s attacker, he ran in the direction of the scream. Building up speed until he crashed through a door at the end of a corridor. Into a bathroom.

"Damn!" He cursed, turning back on himself and striding through the bathroom door again. He caught sight a shadowy figure and rugby-tackled it. Pinning the vampire beneath him, he threatened him with a stake over the heart.

"One move and it’s in your chest." He warned. The vampire lay still and kept quiet. Angel quickly dropped the stake and punched the vampire unconscious. He hauled the dead weight into the living room and tied it up with the wire from a lamp he found on a low table, reasoning that it would be easier to question him later if he couldn’t go anywhere now.

Angel explored the apartment, looking for the girl’s body. He felt a deep sense of regret and guilt that he hadn’t gotten to her sooner and prevented this from happening.

He found her body in the bedroom. She had obviously decided to have an early night because she was dressed in an old-fashioned nightgown and the covers were half drawn over her still body.

Angel couldn’t sense a pulse but he checked anyway, knowing it was futile. Then he checked to see if she was breathing. Predictably, she wasn’t. A small grey and white cat jumped up onto the bed and lay down on the sixteen-year-old’s stomach. It glared malevolently at him and hissed. He took in the girl’s sprawled form, the rumpled bedcovers, and the bite-marks in her neck before he turned to the telephone on the bedside table to call Doyle and let him know.

Day Three, Thursday, The Hilton, London, England

After speaking to Giles on the subject, Buffy had approached the Watchers Council, and not only been able to upgrade the rooms that the others were accommodated in, but had managed to convince them to pay for a suite of rooms for the whole gang to share. They were assembled there now, when a knock on the door heralded the arrival of the Watcher’s Council. Of all of them, only Giles had some idea of what to expect but even he was nervous of meeting the mysterious figures behind the Slayers. Buffy looked around at the others then shrugged and headed for the door.

"Hello." She said as she opened the door. "Come in." She stared as two men and a woman walked past her. The other members of the Scooby Gang stood and faced the newcomers. Willow wiped her hands nervously on her skirt and Anya shifted from foot to foot as she told herself that they couldn’t possibly know who she was. Giles stared at the carpet rather than look his former employers in the face and Xander walked up to them and offered his hand.

"Hi! I’m Xander, and may I just say that it is a pleasure to finally be able to meet you." They ignored him. "Oh-kay then! So glad we had this meaningful chat." His hand gradually came back down to his side and he moved away, a little hurt by the encounter and feeling somehow less of a man.

The older man turned to Buffy. "Is it really necessary for them to be here?" He indicated the others with a nod of his silver-haired head.

"Yes." Said Buffy, going into her defensive mode. "They’re my friends, I couldn’t leave them out of the loop like that!"

"What Mr. Woolston means is, you, as the Slayer, should not have the outside distractions of…friends. The woman said. "Especially now, when you will be fighting perhaps the…"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa." Buffy said. "You’re telling me, because I’m a Slayer I can’t have any friends? Well, excuse me! Last time I checked, I didn’t even work for you any more! I’m doing you a favour and all you can think about is the fact my friends came to support me? I’m sorry, no! All my friends here have saved my life at one point or another. I’m one of the longest living Slayers thanks to them! And they all come with individual talents. We. Are. A. Team. You don’t just get me, or Giles, or Willow. We come as a package. Now I’m sorry of you can’t understand that, because you’re the ones losing out." Buffy sat down abruptly. "Now sit down and tell us where we’re going because I for one am willing to turn around and go right back to Sunnydale now. It’s not as if we’re not needed there." The Slayerettes sat down near Buffy as the Watchers looked at one another then sat down at the opposite end of the table.

Anya sat as close to Xander as possible with actually sitting in his lap. "Buffy didn’t mention me." She whispered to him. "Do you think that they noticed that I’m not part of the team?" She asked. "What if they find out I was a demon?" She continued, starting to panic now. "Would they tell Buffy she had to kill me? She wouldn’t do it, right? Or would she? I mean I’m not part of the team, am I?"

"Anya!" Xander interrupted with a harsh whisper as he noticed that the Watchers were getting ready to speak. "Calm down. Buffy didn’t mention me either." He pointed out.

Anya frowned. "She didn’t, did she?" She whispered to herself. "That bitch."

"I am Gloria Clarke" The woman gestured to the older man the to the other member of the trio. "This is David Woolston and this is Gregory Morey. We are senior members of the Watcher’s Council. We decide where the Watchers and Slayers are assigned."

"Willow."

"Anya."

"Xander."

Buffy, noticing how uncomfortable Giles looked, spoke up. "And I’m Buffy and you know Giles. So down to business."

Gloria Clarke took up the narrative once again. "It has recently come to our attention that there is a large…"

"Disturbance in the force." Butted in Xander

"Problem arising in Cornwall. St. Treharne to be exact." The woman continued.

Day Three, Thursday, St Treharne Hotel, 14 High Street, St. Treharne, Cornwall, England

"I reached for the telephone and then the corpse, sat up, stared at me and said, ‘You’re a vampire. You’re not welcome in my home.’ And then I was being pushed out of the apartment by…something, and when I tried to get back in I couldn’t." Angel explained to Cordelia and Doyle from his seat on the edge of Doyle’s double bed.

"What do you mean, you couldn’t?" Doyle asked Angel.

"It was like it usually is, there was a barrier there, something pushing me back. And the harder I tried to get in there, the stronger it got."

"Gee does this sound familiar!" Cordelia asked sarcastically. "Vampires feeding on people, said people coming back to life. This girl’s a vamp!"

"No, I honestly don’t think she was." Said Angel, getting up and starting to pace. "She didn’t feel like a vampire."

"You touched her?" Cordelia demanded, outraged.

Doyle’s eyes widened. "Which part?" He asked eagerly. Cordelia hit him.

"No, I didn’t touch her Doyle." Angel stressed. "Vampires, and other things, well, we can tell that say, Cordelia, is a human, without even knowing that. It’s something about the sound and smell of a person and the taste of the air around them."

"Are you saying I smell?" Cordelia asked, murder glinting in her eyes.

"No." Angel appealed to Doyle for help.

"What I think Angel's trying to say is that Darcy Regan is not a vampire, because she doesn’t smell, sound or act like a vampire. Or a demon, or a werewolf or a witch, none of those things."

Angel looked pensive as he tried to recall just what she had felt like. He got up and began to pace the room.

"Well what is she if she isn’t any of those things?" Asked Cordy. "And why are we supposed to help her?"

"That’s what I want to know." Angel said grimly.

Cordelia sat on the edge of Doyle’s bed. Doyle looked at her as she lay back on the bed, his bed, and said…

"What, is there something wrong with my hair?"

He shook his head and looked away from her. Man, these fantasies were ruining what little concentration he had!

"What? I have to know!" She persisted.

"Nothing." He said, "I was just thinking."

Day Three, Thursday, 23c Hill Road, St Treharne, Cornwall, England

Doyle tapped quietly on the door before not so quietly breaking in.

"Well at least she can’t say I didn’t knock." He muttered to himself as he brushed glass off of his coat. He started to walk towards the corridor Angel had told him led to Darcy’s bedroom and tripped over a small grey and white cat. He stared into the cat’s electric blue eyes and it hissed vindictively at him before streaking down the hall and into a room.

Jumping up onto Darcy’s bed, Basil batted her cheek. Come on Darcy, wake up!

In desperation he let his claws slide gracefully out of his paws and scratched her bare shoulder as the intruder walked into the room and crouched beside her. Basil spat at him again as Darcy stirred and began to breathe again. Beneath him, Basil could feel her heart kick starting up. He yowled and prayed that would finally stir her from her extremely deep sleep.

Darcy’s eyes fluttered and she smiled dreamily as she stretched. Her left shoulder smarted vaguely and she opened her eyes and looked into Basil’s eyes. He looked worried she thought as she rubbed his ears. And registered the presence of a third person in the room.

Jack-knifing into a sitting position she declared, "You’re not welcome in my home." And waited for him to be forced out. He stood up. Okay, obviously not a vampire. She cleared her mind and waited for her extra senses to help her out. She realised he was a half-demon, in some ways, a lot like her.

"What do you want?" She asked cautiously, she had learnt the hard way that not all semi-demons were nice, but on the other hand, not all demons were evil, apparently.

"To know what you are." The intruder answered.

"Don’t you know?" She asked. "I would have thought a half-breed like yourself would recognise those qualities in another." She laughed bitterly. "But then, the existence of my kind is denied, disbelieved." She shrugged. "Unlike you."

"So you’re half-demon?"

"Yes…no! Oh! It’s a bit abstruse." Serious, she asked, "Why are you here?"

"You threw a vampire out of your home earlier, I’m here on his behalf." The demon threw up his hands to ward her off as she got out of bed and into a fighting stance. "I’m not here to fight." He told her. "I’m here to help you."

"You work for a vampire." Darcy pointed out logically.

"Well yeah, but he’s a good vampire."

"Nice try." She said derisively, shifting a little to the left.

"It’s true!" The Irishman protested.

"You should listen to him." Said a third, female voice. Darcy glanced at her. Human, tall, dark hair, perfectly made up, American. The female walked into the room and continued speaking.

"He may look like a spaz but occasionally Doyle is quite lucid." She tipped her head slightly to one side. "You’re shorter than I thought you’d be."

"Cordy," Said the first intruder. " I thought I told you to stay in the car."

"Yeah well, lucky for you I turned up, ‘cause you were about to get your butt kicked by a dwarf." The woman examined her nails then turned to the mildly offended Darcy. "Please continue." She said. "Should be fun to watch."

Fascinated by the inter-play, Darcy warily dropped her fighting stance.

"That’s better." Said the guy, with a sigh of relief.

"I’m Cordelia and this badly dressed wimp is Doyle." Said the woman, offering her perfectly manicured hand to Darcy. "And as you just said, we work for a vampire." She raised her eyebrows and let her hand drop back down to her side when Darcy ignored it.

"But not just any vampire." Doyle butted in. "Angel." Cordelia elbowed him as the blood began to drain from Darcy’s face.

She gasped, "Not Angelus!"

"Well, yeah." Cordelia said brightly.

"You mean... Angelus was in my home? And I survived?" Darcy began to hyperventilate and ran from the room. Cordelia and Doyle found her scrabbling through a drawer in the small kitchen. She pulled out a paper bag and began to breathe deeply, her wide grey eyes staring wildly at them.

"It’s okay." Cordelia said reassuringly. Darcy stared at her disbelievingly. "He’s not an evil vamp anymore. He has a soul. He’s atoning for his sins." She nodded at Doyle, "That’s why he’s stuck with gimboid. Are you okay?" Darcy nodded absently, interested despite herself. "Good, Angel doesn’t get paid if you die."

Darcy’s mind froze with terror. "Who’s he working for?" She choked out. "My father?"

"No-one." Doyle said, glaring at Cordelia. "I get visions of people in need, Angel charges in to help. Sometimes they pay him…"

"Usually they don’t." Cordelia muttered.

Darcy lowered the bag and looked directly at them. "So why are you here?"

"He saw you and we came." Cordelia said as if she was talking to a three-year-old.

"Gee, thanks." Darcy said sarcastically. "But I don’t need any help." She tidied the paper bag away.

"At least meet him." Doyle said.

Darcy quickly calculated the pros and cons. "Okay. Seven o’clock tomorrow night, by the harbour wall opposite The Mermaid pub." She paused. "You realise I’ll be bringing protection." She added significantly.

"Oh, you don’t need to bother with that," Cordelia walked towards Darcy’s battered front door. "Angel’s been defanged."

Doyle smiled at Darcy, "Bye." The door banged as they left.

"We’ll see about that." Darcy said with a steely glint in her grey eyes. Basil meowed plaintively.
 
 

~Part: 4~

Day Four, Friday, High Street, St. Treharne, Cornwall, England

"All right Watcher’s Council." Said Xander as the dark blue estate pulled up outside an expensive looking hotel. "Way to go!"

"Actually Xander," Giles said as he backed the car into a parking space. "We won’t be staying in the hotel."

"We won’t?"

"Then where will we be staying?" Asked Buffy.

"In a house owned by the Watcher’s Council." Giles explained hesitantly.

"Which would be where?"

Giles pointed across the quiet street. The teenagers in the car followed the direction of his finger.

"Oh my God!" Said Xander quietly.

Giles looked at the house. "Yes, well, uh, it may be better inside." He said, hoping against all hope that it was.

Day Four, Friday, 15 High Street, St Treharne, Cornwall, England

The Scooby Gang stood in the doorway of their new headquarters.

"Wow." Xander said, admiring the atmosphere of restrained elegance that permeated the inside of the house, in a direct contrast to the crumbling exterior.

"See, it is better." Willow smiled wanly as she moved into the magnificent hall.

"Well, I don’t about you guys but I’m going to check out the bedrooms."

"Wonderful idea Buffy. But why don’t we get the luggage in…" Giles realised he was talking an empty hall, the teenagers having dispersed to look over the house. "First." He turned and trudged back outside with a sigh.

Day Four, Friday, Harbour Road, St. Treharne, Cornwall, England

Darcy leant her bantam frame against the harbour wall staring at the calm sea. Basil sat next to her on the wall. His ears twitched and he meowed warningly.

"It’s okay Bas, I heard them." Darcy stroked him reassuringly.

"I wish you wouldn’t call me that. My name is Basil, not Bas." The small cat’s tail twitched irritably.

"Sorry," Darcy apologised. "It slipped out." She turned and faced the trio behind her. Angelus stood in the middle; Cordelia and Doyle were half a pace behind him.

"Hi," Darcy looked pointedly at her watch. "Glad you could make it."

""Sorry," The vampire said. "We ran into a little trouble."

"Yeah!" Said Cordelia, brushing dust off her black top. "Three of them." Angelus and Doyle looked at her. "What?"

"Well, we were going for the downplay." Explained Doyle.

"Well someone should have told me." Cordelia put a hand on her hip and prepared to go into the subject.

"Enough of the chat." Darcy cut across her, fixing her eyes on Angelus. "What are you doing here? I don’t believe that you’ve come to help me and even if you have what makes you think I need helping? Especially from a vampire!"

"Well, see, Doyle had this vision and Angel said that I just had to come so…"

"Cordelia." Said Angelus, in a warning tone of voice.

Cordelia held her hands up. "Only trying to help."

"Look," The vampire continued speaking to Darcy. "Maybe it’s not you who needs help. Maybe you’re what we’re supposed to stop."

"How dare you?" Darcy exclaimed "I’ll have you know that I have never hurt an innocent being in my life!"

"Good." Angelus said quietly.

Darcy continued as if she hadn’t heard him. "I may kill vampires and demons, but never anything with a soul!"

"Good!" Said Cordelia, "Then you can’t kill Angel."

"What do you mean?" Darcy asked warily.

"He has a soul." She answered simply.

"He’s a vampire, vampires can’t have souls." Darcy recited. "It’s axiom." She rolled her eyes at the blank look of incomprehension on their faces. "Axiom meaning an established rule, principle, or law?" She prompted.

Cordelia frowned. "Did you swallow a dictionary or something?"

Darcy laughed. "No, but I do read the dictionary when I’m bored." She shook her head, trying to get back on track. "Look," she said, "Either the soul merges with the demon after about fifty years, the vampire goes insane or the soul is somehow lost, usually due to an ommitence in the spell that reinstated the soul. Like what happened to Angel a few years ago. You're working for a monster. A clever monster, but still a monster. Somehow he got out of hell and has tricked you all!"

"How do you know what happened?" Angel asked.

"I read!" Darcy said defensively, emphasising the word, ‘read’.

"Then you must have read that his soul was restored a while after he lost it." Said Cordelia.

"Prove it."

Basil spoke up. "They’re telling the truth Darcy." Angelus, Doyle and Cordelia stared the small cat. "What?" He asked them. "I’m sure you’ve seen stranger things in your time."

"Actually no," Cordelia said. "Despite previously going to school on top of a Hellmouth, no."

"Same here," Said Doyle, "Except for the whole Hellmouth bit."

Basil stared at Cordelia, fascinated. "You lived in Sunnydale?" He asked.

"You know about Sunnydale?" Cordelia looked surprised that a cat actually knew about the Hellmouth that resided underneath the small town of Sunnydale, California.

"Well," Basil tried to look modest and failed. "Living with someone who reads as much as Darcy does, you’re bound to pick up a few things."

"How?" Darcy asked Angelus harshly. She clarified herself. "How come you have a soul? I mean, the rites were lost centuries ago."

"Just under a century." Angelus explained. "I was first cursed with my soul about ninety nine years ago. I was cursed again almost three months after I lost my soul."

"Yeah, and ever since then he’s been on a major guilt trip. Worse than the first time!" Cordelia said, turning to face Darcy.

Darcy ignored her, her face lit up like a Christmas tree on top a bonfire. "Do you have a copy of the curse?" She asked Angelus.

"No," He said, clearly puzzled. "Why?"

"Oh," Darcy sounded as if she didn’t have a care in the world. "I can think of a few vampires I wouldn’t mind cursing." She laughed hollowly.

"Like who?" Angelus asked gently.

"Her sister. Or maybe her mother, perhaps her father." Said Basil, watching the scene with his brilliant blue eyes.

"They turned your whole family?" Asked Doyle incredulously.

"Man that’s harsh! And they didn’t turn you? Wow. That must really suck." Cordelia paused. "What? What! I’m only saying what you’re thinking." She told Doyle.

"Not exactly." Darcy told them.

"What do you mean?" Angelus’ eyes narrowed assessingly.

Cordelia stepped back a pace. "Are you a vampire?" She asked.

"If I was a vampire, would I be wearing this?" Darcy touched the amethyst cross around her neck.

"Then what are you?" Asked Doyle.

Darcy dropped her hand back down to her side, straightened her posture and lifted her head proudly. "I’m a dhampir." She said. There was a moment’s pause, then.

"A what?" Doyle said.

"A dhampir."

"Which is what?" Asked Cordelia.

Angelus looked thoughtful. "There’s a text which claims, a vampire can impregnate a mortal, the resulting offspring were called dhampirs. But that’s impossible."

"How would you know? You, you, illiberal eejit." Darcy accused, her voice rising. "I bet you’ve never…" She broke off as a vampire jumped over the harbour wall and grabbed her by the throat.

Cordelia screamed as Darcy twisted her head, trying to look at her attacker but she couldn’t. She dug her heels in as she was pulled backwards.

Basil hissed and darted forward, sinking his teeth into the vampire’s ankle. The vampire kicked out, sending Basil flying into the nearby harbour wall.

Angelus advanced steadily. "Let her go." He said, looking lethal.

"Make me." The vampire replied, his fangs bared, as he smelt the blood pounding in Darcy’s neck.

Darcy reached into her bag and pulled out an extra-long stake. She waited until the vampire’s still heart was directly behind her beating one and plunged it straight through her own heart and into the vampire’s.

"No!" Angel shouted, running to her.

Darcy heard the vampire behind her explode in a sigh of non-sound and she fell back onto the tarmac of the road. Shivering, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Slowly, she breathed out and died.

Angel crouched beside her and felt for her pulse. Shouting, he wrenched the stake out of her punctured heart and threw it as far away as possible. Basil sat next to him.

"She won’t be happy that you did that." He remarked. "That’s one of her best stakes."

"She’s dead. Right?" Said Cordelia standing behind Angel. Angel nodded bitterly in confirmation. "I don’t think she cares cat."

"She’ll be back." The tiny cat said confidently as he lay down next Darcy’s cooling corpse. "And the name’s Basil if you don’t mind." He began to groom himself, then stopped to look at Cordelia. "Her body is merely healing, but we do need to get her to safety. I’m amazed we weren’t attacked before now, given the recent increase in the vampire population." He tipped his head to one side. "On the other hand, you need to go. Now." He warned. "There was another vampire watching us and you will be attacked if you remain. He is coming, and so are his companions. You need to leave."

"What about you?" Angel asked.

"And the body?" Doyle added.

Basil looked as smug as a cat can. "We’ll be fine." He assured them. "Now go!"

Against Angel's better judgement, he, Cordelia and Doyle left.

Day Four, Friday, High Street, St. Treharne, Cornwall, England

"So, I’m thinking, get to know the layout, maybe the inside of a few pubs." Xander rubbed his hands together gleefully.

"Xander." Buffy said reprovingly.

"What?" He asked, genuinely puzzled. "It’s legal here."

"We’re patrolling." Willow explained.

"And it takes five of us?" A woman’s scream shattered the quiet night. "Obviously it does." Xander finished as they ran towards the sound. "Hey, you know who that sounded like? That sounded like Cordelia."

They rounded a corner and saw a corpse on the ground, a group of vampires about to pick it up. Pulling a stake from her pocket, Buffy rushed at the vampires.

The nearest vampire turned and knocked Buffy’s legs from underneath her. Buffy hit the tarmac hard, every bone in her body jarring. Instantly she was up on her feet and in a fighting stance. She looked at her opponent, her friends grouped behind her, armed to the teeth with holy water, crosses and stakes. The vampires were nothing more than your typical, run of the mill vampire goon. Quickly, Buffy dispatched most of the vampires, the rest running off into the night.

Willow stepped forward and knelt beside the girl on the ground. She felt for a pulse. "She’s dead." She said sadly, looking up at Buffy.

"How?" Buffy asked.

"It looks like a vampire tried to stake her through her heart. But the hole isn't deep enough to explain how she died so quickly and with so much blood loss." Willow explained quietly.

"How do you know that?" Asked Xander, ever so slightly more amazed than grossed out.

"You pick up a lot when you hack into the coroners office on a regular basis." Willow explained.

"What's with the cat?" Anya asked, pointing to a small kitten curled up against the corpse.

Willow looked at the tiny cat. "She’s so sweet." She rubbed the cat’s ears. It sat up and looked right at her.

"Please." It said. "Do not patronise me, I am the runt of the litter. Darcy only chose me because she had no choice. It was pre-ordained. And my name is Basil. And I’m male. And I used to be human."

Willow stared at the cat open-mouthed. She squeaked and turned to Buffy.

"There’s a cat… and it talks. Are we sure we’re not in Sunnydale?" Buffy asked, shrugging.

Basil practically danced for joy. "You also come from Sunnydale?" He asked.

"Where else?" Said Xander.

"Uh, guys?" Buffy said in a strange tone of voice "I don’t know how whoever died but nothing went through her heart." Everyone looked at her. "There isn’t a hole, not even a scratch."

"But that’s impossible!" Willow exclaimed. "Look! A stake-sized hole in her blouse, right where her heart would be."

"But that’s not possible right?" Asked Xander. "Not unless she was a…demon?" He gulped nervously.

Willow screamed and backed away, pointing at Darcy’s body. "She breathed!" She accused.

"Will, she’s dead, I don’t think she can breathe." Buffy said reasonably.

Willow stared at Darcy. "She’s doing it again! Look!!"

Buffy glanced at the body on the ground. It moved. She looked back and her eyes widened.

"Oh my God." She whispered.

The corpse sat up, looked down at herself and grimaced.

"This was one of my favourite shirts." She grumbled as she stood up. She looked around her. "What?" She asked the stupefied onlookers. "Didn’t you tell them?" She glared at the small cat named Basil.

He hung his head. "I tried but I got side-tracked. They called me a female. Why didn’t you tell them?"

"Um, let me think, possibly because I was dead." The girl said sarcastically.

Buffy rushed at her, convinced she was a demon. The diminutive girl side-stepped neatly.

"Didn’t you ever teach her to ask first, slay later?" She asked Giles. "I mean, being her Watcher and all."

Buffy stopped midst attack. "How do you know about that?" She asked, still in a fighting stance.

"She reads." Basil quipped.

"Are you a witch?" Asked Anya "Because I’ve known several witches and none of them have ever come back from the dead."

"I'm a dhampir." The girl said proudly.

"Huh?" Exclaimed Buffy, turning to Giles. "What's a dhampir Giles?."

"T-that's impossible." Stuttered Giles. "Dhampirs are just legends. They don't exist."

"They do." The girl said indignantly. "And I’m one of them."

"Uh, obvious question here." Said Xander, stepping forward. "What’s a...dhampir?"

"Supposedly, a dhampir is the offspring of a vampire and a mortal." Giles explained. "Usually the father is the vampire. Dhampirs have certain abilities. One of them being an ability to come back from the dead. But they don't exist."

"You keep saying that." Anya pointed out.

"Look. There is simply no evidence that says conclusively, dhampirs are real."

"And there is no evidence to conclusively prove that they are not," the girl said somewhat triumphantly. "And unless you choose to disbelieve the evidence in front of your eyes, I am a dhampir. Pleased to meet you all, call me Darcy."

"Let me get this straight. Vampires can have children, and you're one of them. As a child of a vampire, you have certain...powers. Am I right so far?" Buffy queried.

"Yep." Said Darcy.

"I don't believe you. Vampires can't have children. Even the vampires know that." Buffy said stubbornly, crossing her arms.

Darcy sighed. "The existence of dhampirs is not well known. The mixture of our heritage seems to attract demons and vampires, all of whom will want to breed with us. So we tend to keep our heads down."

"So, how much of you is human?" Asked Xander. "Not to imply that you don't have a soul or anything but...I really need to be quiet now."

Darcy smiled. "I'm a first-generation dhampir. I’m fifty percent human so, yes I have a soul." Suddenly, she looked around at their surroundings and her mood changed. "We should get to shelter." She said. "There’s been a big increase in the vampire population lately, it's possible that they might attack again." She began walking towards her home. "We can go to my flat."

"No." Giles said firmly. "If you're what you say you are, vampires can enter your home freely. We should go to our accommodation. You can tell us all that you know about the recent influx of mystical power here."

Darcy shrugged. "Shouldn't be too hard. Got a spare few days?"

The group broke up and headed for the house that the Watcher's Council had provided for Buffy. Meaning that the group of vampires that burst onto the scene scant minutes later were greeted with nothing but a few drunken revellers. They quite enjoyed the revellers.

Day Four, Friday, Premises Withheld The Address, St. Treharne, Cornwall, England

A lone vampire knelt in the middle of the dark room. In front of him stood five thrones. As he waited a door opened and three vampires walked in. The male sat in the middle throne and nodded to the older female vampire to take her place on his right. When she had seated herself he nodded to the younger of the two to take her place on his left.

"Well Thomas," He said. "Where is my daughter? You swore she would kneel before me by tonight and yet I see only you." He smiled cruelly.

"Forgive me sir." The vampire called Thomas began, almost stuttering in his terror. "I drained her blood whilst she slept and would have bought her to you whilst she healed but I was interrupted by another." He peeked at the younger female. She smiled shyly at him.

"Basil?" Asked the older woman excitedly.

"No." Thomas replied. She sank back into her chair.

"Basil is dead my love." The male stroked the older female’s cheek gently before turning his attention back the vampire kneeling before him. "You fed from my daughter?" He asked in a deceptively quiet voice.

"It was the only way I could capture her. I have tried, many times, but she is elusive. Just tonight, she staked one of my finest men. Through her own heart! And when I tried to retrieve her body a group of humans stopped me. They killed many of my men. I was lucky to escape with my life!"

"Excuses!" Roared the vampire. "I, Ramiculus, will have my family beside me at my finest hour. Nothing will deny me!" He smiled at the younger female to his left. Nodding sweetly, she stood up and moved behind Thomas. Smiling widely with delight, she reached into her pocket, drew out a sharp stake and plunged it into her admirer’s cold heart.

"Oh sweetheart." The elder female chided gently. "Are you sure you wanted to do that? He was so fond of you and he had power. The two of you could have been happy."

Thomas exploded into dust.

Day Four, Friday, 15 High Street, St. Treharne, Cornwall

Giles set a tray laden with drinks down on the table. "Coffee for Xander, Anya and Buffy. Decaffeinated for Willow, milk for Basil and tea for Darcy and myself."

"Thank you Mr. Giles." Said Darcy.

"Yeah thanks." The others echoed.

"Now Darcy, what can you tell us?"

"What do you want to know?" She asked.

"Well, we can start with your family." Buffy suggested. "How come you’re a dhampir?"

"And then we can move on to the good stuff." Xander said, edging ever so slightly closer to Darcy. "You know, the personal stuff like what powers do you have? Why do you have a cat? What’s your bra size?" Anya hit him. "Ow."

"Is he always like this?" Darcy asked Willow.

"Usually." Willow nodded, "Occasionally he’s better. It’s a sickness"

"You want to know everything? Ab initio?" Darcy asked.

The small group from Sunnydale looked at one another, confused. Slowly, Giles’ expression began to clear and he nodded. The rest of the group, taking their cue from him, nodded as well.

Darcy took a deep breath and then launched into her explanations. "Well, my father’s the vampire. Ever heard of Ramiculus?"

Giles got up and paced, rubbing the bridge of his nose with one hand whilst he held his glasses in the other. Willow noticed and slightly nudged Buffy to alert her to the impending apocalypse. "Anyway, barely seventeen years ago, Ramiculus fell in love with my mother. He wanted to have children with her so he didn’t turn her into a vampire…" Darcy continued, looking slightly puzzled as she observed the byplay within the group.

"Generous of him." Said Buffy, leaning slightly towards Darcy.

"He didn’t make her into a vampire…straightaway." Darcy looked around at them. "First he impregnated her. He planned that as soon as the child was born, he would turn both her and the baby. But as soon as Mum found out what the man she loved was planning to do to her and her unborn child, she ran. But Mum was expecting triplets. My brother and sister and I were born in a small village in Wales and thoughout my childhood, we were always on the run. And as soon as my brother and I were old enough to understand what our father was, and what we were, we planned the day we would kill him. Our sister, Maria, shut it out, refused to believe anyone, no matter how strong the evidence. My brother and I trained in all the deadly arts we could find… he was exceptional with a crossbow." Darcy told them, smiling faintly at the memory. "But he was best at fencing. His instructors wanted him to enter the Olympics but he refused. He wanted to kill Ramiculus first." She took a deep breath and began stroking Basil, who lay on her lap. He purred strongly, trying to comfort her. "My specialist fields were witchcraft and hand to hand combat." She looked at Willow. "I’d be interested in going over any spells with you."

"How did you know?" Willow asked.

"I know a lot about you all, and your presence helped me to heal faster. Of course the fact that there was also a Slayer, a Watcher and a half-demon present helped. Mystical energy speeds up our healing process you see."

"Oh, I’m not a demon any more." Anya informed the English half-vampire. "Not even half."

Darcy raised her eyebrows and continued. "Well, one day we moved and Ramiculus was there, waiting for us. He had an army of vampires with him. Straight away, they caught Maria. Mum was trying to help her when they caught her too. I was trying to free them when my brother was backed into a corner by several vampires and killed."

"But he revived, yes?" Asked Giles.

Darcy shook her head. "He was decapitated."

"What difference would that make?" Asked Xander.

"One of the two ways a dhampir can be truly killed is decapitation." Giles explained.

"The other is by fire." Darcy informed them. "Anyway, Ramiculus was furious when he realised what had happened to his only son. Especially because he had just turned Mother and now they couldn’t have more sons." She hung her head. "So he didn’t notice when I transferred my brother’s spirit into the nearest living thing and ran as far as possible with it."

"What was it?" Asked Buffy.

"Hey, I said I used to be human." Basil reminded them.

"You’re kidding."

"A millennia of no." Said Darcy. "I tracked Ramiculus here and waited. After a while vampires and other things began trying to kidnap me." She looked at Giles. "Tonight was the closest they’ve ever come. Took them a while to figure out they could come into my flat without an invitation you see. Most of them don’t even know what I am. But there’s one that does. He put those vampires tonight up to attacking me."

"Why do you put up with it?" Xander asked. "I mean you could be gone tomorrow. They’d never find you."

"But they would!" Darcy said earnestly. "And I’m tired of running. I’m going to kill Ramiculus here. On his home turf."

"What’s behind the increase of mystical energy here?" Giles asked, reasoning that if anyone in the area was likely to know, it would be Darcy.

"Ramiculus. He’s planning to create a Hellmouth and open it."

"Where?" Asked Buffy.

"The harbour." Darcy said, shrugging.

"What part of the harbour?" Anya asked, interested in Darcy’s tale for the first time.

"As far as I can tell in the middle. Where the sea is." Darcy informed them.

"You’re joking." Said Buffy.

"Wish I was." Darcy told her bitterly.

"Oh boy." Xander said, slumping in his chair. "Oh man that’s bad."

"Tell me about it." Basil said as he stretched and delicately stepped over to his dish of milk.

"How do you know?" Asked Giles.

"A little witchcraft, a little spying." Darcy shrugged. "Nothing I haven’t done before."

Basil looked up from his milk. "You know, this is really good milk."

"Uh, thank you." Said Giles as he looked at Darcy. "So what… ‘powers’ do you have?"

"Whadda’ya got?" Darcy asked, in the manner of all true teen rebels.

"P-Pardon?" Giles asked.

Xander and Anya looked at one another, confused as Buffy and Willow exchanged impressed looks at the ease that Darcy had slipped the quote into conversation.

Darcy grinned and shrugged. "Sorry." She apologised for the confusion she had caused. "What do you know about dhampirs?" She asked Giles.

Giles took a book from a shelf and began to read from it. "A dhampir is the offspring of a vampire and a mortal. As such they have certain abilities, one of them being the ability to come back from the dead. They usually live alongside humans and often have children with humans. Beheading and fire are the only things that can permanently kill a dhampir, but there is usually no need to destroy them as they have souls and as such almost resemble humans. Most dhampirs die of old age as their average lifespan is that of a human." He looked up. "All correct I presume?"

Basil looked at Darcy with as close a sardonic look as his feline features would permit. "At least someone knows we exist." He said.

Darcy smiled at him and looked around at the faces surrounding her. She had a feeling that she could become friends with every one of them. "Not quite." She said, and watched Giles’ expectant face fall. "Most of it’s true, but, we age as humans only until puberty ends. Which means I have about another year or so to go!" She laughed.

"Then what?" Buffy asked curiously.

"Our ageing processes slow down and we age at a ratio of about twenty to one."

"Huh?" Xander was confused.

"Every two decades she ages a year." Willow explained.

"Cool!" Exclaimed Xander. "You’d stay young forever."

"Only for a few centuries, then you’re middle aged. And staying young forever isn’t all it’s cracked up to be."

"Yeah right!" Anya muttered.

"And... and children?" Giles asked her hesitantly

"Oh yeah." Darcy said confidently. "But if second generation dhampirs' other parent is mortal they age at about ten to one after puberty and so on and so on. It’s all in the genes."

"It’s your jeans that make you live longer?" Xander said, attempting to lighten the mood. It was after all what he was best.

Darcy deliberately misunderstood him. "Basically."

"Anything else?" Buffy asked, anxious to get back to the part about the evil vampire.

Darcy wracked her memory. "We tend not to tan well, we get badly sunburnt."

"Obviously." Giles chuckled from his armchair.

"We don’t have a problem with crosses, holy water, anything like that. When we ‘die’, it’s just our bodies shutting down so that it can heal. We can generate our own blood, unlike vampires, and at a faster rate than humans. When we sleep, our bodies shut down, our heartbeat stops and we stop breathing. We can track specific vampires and demons from miles away and when we’re awake we have a highly developed warning system. Kinda like bat sonar! We usually have a kind of spirit guide, to help them because they can be very passionate about the things they believe in. The spirit guide usually takes the form of an animal and acts a lot like a Watcher in some respects. Basil is the closest I’ve ever come to having a fylghi, as they’re known. Oh, and dhampirs can turn people into vampires." Darcy looked around at them, hoping that that fact wouldn’t put them off. "That’s about it really. I can’t think of anything else at the moment. If I do I’ll let you know."

The Scooby gang collectively blinked as they returned to reality.
 
 

~Part: 5~

Day Five, Saturday, Premises Withheld The Address, St. Treharne, Cornwall, England

Ramiculus smiled. His strength grew every day and soon, his most beloved daughter would join him and his adored wife. Then when his family had been reunited, he would flood hell itself. And his family would rule for all time. He laughed, enraptured by his vision of the future. A favourite of his sidled into the room

"You wanted to see me?" She asked in her vague, cockney accent.

He turned to her and smiled victoriously. "Yes!" He breathed, and beckoned her with his finger. As if hypnotised she glided to him. Overwhelmed by the energy he radiated, she sank to the ground, her mind filled with pictures, giggling hysterically.

"What do you see?" He asked her.

"The Slayer and all her little friends. And my Angel."

"Where are they?"

"With the children. They’re running through the meadows…and the sun is shining happily." She smiled. "Miss Edith isn’t pleased."

Ramiculus screamed with rage.

Day Five, Saturday, 15 High Street, St. Treharne, Cornwall

Darcy woke in an unfamiliar room. She stared at the ceiling and tried to recall the last thing she remembered happening to her last night. Her memory came flooding back. She got out of bed, swamped by the shirt Mr. Giles had leant her to sleep in, crossing to the window, she pulled the heavy drapes back and waited for the sun to rise. Basil woke and stretched, spying Darcy by the window, he crossed to sit on the window ledge.

"Morning." He said.

Darcy looked at him. "It’s going to be a beautiful day. I asked especially."

"They took twelve last night. Three will rise again." Darcy looked down. "They’ll take more unless we can stop them. What are we going to do?" Basil looked directly at his sister. "Darcy, we have to kill them."

"No!" Darcy cried. "They’re our family. There must be another way. What about Angel’s curse? I can’t just kill them."

"They’re demons. They have no conception of family and wouldn’t hesitate to turn you into one of them. Is that what you want?" Basil asked harshly.

"Well at least we’d all be together." Darcy said wistfully. "I’ve got to make breakfast. You want something to eat Bas?"

"Sure." Basil watched his sister leave the room. "You’re a fool Darcy. You wouldn’t be reunited with them, you’d be dead. When will you realise that?"

Day Five, Saturday, 15 High Street, St. Treharne, Cornwall

Xander wandered downstairs, yawning blearily. None of them had gotten to bed much before dawn and he was still on Eastern Time. He paused to sniff the air appreciatively. Someone was cookin’ up a storm in the kitchen. He followed his nose, and paused in the doorway to the kitchen. Darcy was dancing to some sort of country music on the radio. She wore the shirt she had conned Giles out of and the short skirt she had worn the night before. The shirt had never looked better. Her long, dark hair hung down her back in glossy waves and her long legs seemed to go on forever. Xander vaguely recognised the song… something about men’s shirts, and short skirts… A smile began to spread across his face.

"Good morning Xander. Oh I say!" Giles stopped dead at the sight of the slim girl dancing in the middle of the kitchen.

Darcy ground to a halt as she came to realise that she had an audience.

"Oh." She said foolishly, blushing. "Good morning Mr. Giles, good morning Alexander." She pointed to the food, cooking on the stove. "Would you like something to eat?"

Giles pushed past the stupefied Xander. "My father was Mr. Giles." He smiled at her. "Please, call me Giles. Is there anything I can do to help?"

Darcy smiled back. "No thanks. It’s done. You just sit down and eat."

Xander came to his sense with a start. He stumbled, zombified across the tiled floor, "Food," and sank into a chair. Darcy put a bowl of sugared cereal in from of him and he began to eat. Giles frowned disapprovingly at him but Xander didn’t notice, concentrating instead on the sugar high he was about to receive.

Day Five, Saturday, St. Treharne Post Office, High Street, St. Treharne, Cornwall

Cordelia was arguing with the woman in the post office.

"What do you mean there isn’t a launderette here!" She demanded. "How am I supposed to wash my clothes?"

The woman muttered in an unintelligible language.

"Doyle!" Cordy cried, dragging him forward. "I can’t understand a word she says. You come from here. Ask her how I’m supposed to clean my clothes."

"I’m Irish." Doyle smiled at her.

"So? Irishland, Cornwall, its all the same right?"

Doyle smiled at the woman. She glared back. He sighed and looked back at the queue behind them, almost jumping out of his skin as he recognised the small girl waiting in line. "Darcy!" He yelped. "Why aren’t you dead?"

Darcy glanced nervously around her. "Shh!" She whispered. "Xander might hear you. I’m not supposed to be out of the house" She elaborated.

"Xander’s here?" Cordelia said incredulously. "Why?"

"You know Xander?" Darcy asked. She frowned as she thought about what she had just said. "Of course you know Xander, you used to hang out with them."

"With who?" Doyle asked, knowing that he was going to regret asking.

"With Buffy and the others," Darcy clarified.

"Please don’t tell me they’re here!" wailed Cordelia.

"Well, not here, here. Buffy and Giles went to my flat and Willow and Anya are still in bed."

Doyle was right. He did regret asking.

"Oh God," Cordelia said faintly. "You can’t tell Angel they’re here."

"Why not?" Darcy asked with a frown.

"Yeah, why not?" Doyle said, curious.

"It would just complicate things. Buffy and Angel had a clean break," Cordelia made a slicing motion with her hand. "And it should stay that way. Also it would take their minds off of what they're supposed to be doing ‘cause if they know they’re here there's going to be tension and sneaking out to meet each other! If they meet they'll get back together again, and if they get back together again then sooner or later, they'll get groiny again and when they get groiny, the whole world goes to pieces. Trust me. I know. I had ringside seats the last time round!"

Darcy looked at Doyle. "Amongst all that babbling I think she has a point," said the diminutive teen, "I didn’t even see it first hand, but from what I heard it was ugly."

Doyle shrugged.

"Okay, now we’ve decided that you’re not going to tell Angel about Buffy being here, you have to see him." Said Cordelia

Darcy squeaked. "Me? Now? But I’ve got to get back to the house!"

Xander wandered through the aisles, searching idly for food. He’d just finished breakfast but he had a craving for something. He didn’t know what, only that he’d know what it was when he saw it. His eyes brightened when he saw a packet of jelly doughnuts. Wait, the packet said jam doughnuts. Surely that wasn’t right? He realized that that wasn’t what he wanted anyway but figured that Giles would like them. He sorted through the unfamiliar coins and realised he had more money than he had thought. He sauntered down an aisle toward the checkout. Caught a glimpse of something out of the corner of his eye. Paused and backed up a few steps. Smiling widely, he grabbed a packet of crumpets off of the shelf and headed for the checkout, whistling tonelessly. He had found what he wanted.

Day Five, Saturday, 14 High Street, St. Treharne, Cornwall

Cordelia poked her head round the door to Angel’s room.

"Look who we ran into!" She exclaimed, dragging Darcy into the room after her. Doyle followed them in and closed the door to prevent any accidents of the sun kind.

Angel looked up. "Darcy. Hi."

"Angel," Darcy nodded to the ensouled vampire, surreptiously rubbing her arm where Cordy had encased it in a death grip she hadn’t been able to shake off.

Angel looked down at the mug in his hand, discomforted.

"Is that…?" Darcy asked.

"Is what what?" Cordelia asked before she realised what Darcy was referring to. "Oh, the O neg! Yeah, that’s the real stuff alright."

"Cordy," Angel growled.

"Okay, okay, I’m going. Jeez, sensitive much?" the brunette turned to leave, "C’mon Doyle."

"What!" the Irish half-demon exclaimed, "Me? What’d I do?"

"Doyle!" Cordelia warned.

"See you later Angel, man," Doyle shut the door behind them.

Angel put the mug down on a table and shifted uncomfortably before crossing to sit on one of the trio of armchairs on the other side of the room.

Darcy looked uncertainly at the mug and then back to Angel.

"May I?" she asked, gesturing to the mug.

Angel looked shocked but nodded.

Smiling gratefully, Darcy picked up the mug and sat nervously across from Angel. She took a tentative sip from the mug and then relaxed back into the armchair with a contented sigh.

"You have no idea how long it’s been since I’ve had blood," she said comfortably, "I’m like most dhampirs, it goes straight to my hips. So I tend to avoid it. But every once in a while I break out the comfort food," she took another sip and grinned, "Mmmm, beef."

Angel smiled at her quickly and her grin widened even more in response before her vampire face slipped down and she began to drink the rest of the blood.

When she looked up, halfway through, she was surprised to find Angel watching her.

"I’m sorry," Darcy lisped around her elongated canines, "Did you want some?" She held the mug out to him but Angel shook his head so she returned the mug to her lips.

She looked at Angel before she began to drink again and saw the look on his face. Mentally cursing, she put the mug down on the floor next to her chair and shrugged out of her vampire face.

Angel mentally stored the fact that when she was in her vampire face, she didn’t have to breathe and her heart didn’t beat.

"So! What do you want to know?" Darcy asked.

"Why are we here?"

"I don’t know but I would guess it has something to do with my father," Darcy matched his business-like tone.

"Your father’s a vampire?"

"And my mother and sister. He turned them. He was my vampire parent," Darcy clarified.

"Who is he?" Angel asked.

Darcy watched Angel’s face for any sign of emotion, "Ramiculus," she revealed.

Angel sat deep in thought for a few minutes and then got up and turned to one of the stacks of books on the floor. Picking one out he sat back down, holding the book idly in his right hand.

"Ramiculus is your father?"

"Yes."

"Ramiculus never gave a damn for anyone. Why’s he after you?" Angel was suspicious.

"My mother probably wants me by her side," a hint of bitterness crept into Darcy’s voice, "She wants to be one big happy family and Ramiculus could never resist her. She’s the one person he’s ever cared about."

"What ritual?"

"He wants to create another Hellmouth and open it,"

"Where?"

"Here. The harbour to be exact,"

"Where in the harbour?"

Darcy was getting a strange sense of déjà vu. "The middle, where the water is." She explained once more. "He plans to flood hell and rule humans and demons forever. Unfortunately, he never did get round to taking GCSE Science. If he succeeds it’ll be like the Big Bang all over again. Only this time it’s Planet Earth that’s going boom, "

Angel flicked through some pages in the book, "The Big Bang never actually happened," he said dismissively.

"I know that." Darcy said, defending herself. "He doesn’t. Heck, deep down the vampire still believes that the earth is flat and that the girls in The Sun were born looking like that!"

"They are!" Doyle cried through the door, "Ow. Cordy!"

"How do we stop him?" Angel asked, ignoring the couple blatantly eavesdropping outside the door.

Darcy sighed, "Ultimately, we kill him. If we can’t do that then we prevent him from either creating or opening the Hellmouth. For both those rituals he needs all of his family members to be present. That means me and Basil."

"Basil’s your brother?" Cordelia exclaimed.

"He died, I moved his soul," Darcy explained in a louder voice so that Cordelia would be able to hear without straining herself. "Perhaps this would work better if they were on the inside," she suggested to Angel.

Cordelia threw open the door and flung herself down on Angel’s bed.

"So," she said, "When did you first find out you were a dhampir?"

Darcy smiled at the exuberant brunette, "I always knew. It was something mum made sure Basil and I knew." She informed her.

Angel passed the book he had been flicking idly through to Darcy.

"Is that the ritual?" he asked.

Darcy cast an experienced eye over the text, "Looks like!" she said flippantly.

Angel handed the book over to Doyle.

"So what do we do?" Cordelia asked.

Darcy thought about it, "I’ll let you know," she said finally. "But I really have to get going. I’m supposed to be meeting friends and I need to do some stuff first so I’ll see you soon?"

Cordelia nodded.

"Pop round anytime, day or night," Doyle offered.

"I’ll walk you out," said Angel, walking to the bedroom door. Cordelia darted past him to shut the blinds in the other room thereby blocking out the sunlight.

He opened the hall door and Darcy walked past him. She stopped and turned to look at him.

"I’m glad you’re here," she said softly, "It’s strange, but it makes me feel safer knowing that you’re watching my back." Angel looked at her and she stared at her feet. "I… I just want you to know, that you’re always welcome in my home. I mean, I know that we don’t really know one another all that well, but I’d like to be a friend to you. I don’t make friends that well, my lifestyle kinda prohibited it but I feel like I’ve known you all my life. I grew up hearing the tales of my father and Angelus’ exploits and how Angelus became Angel. I spent a great deal of my time reading about your deeds in Sunnydale but I’d like to get to know you." Darcy looked up at him, worried that her babbling might have scared him off. "I, I just thought it might be nice to be friends with someone who won’t be dead in less than eighty years."

Angel half-smiled at her, "Look us up next time you’re in Los Angeles," the vampire said.

Darcy grinned and turned to go, "Oh!" she said, spinning back round, "I meant to ask. How come you didn’t ask me about dhampirs?"

Day Five, Sunday, 23c Hill Road, St. Treharne, Cornwall 11:59am

Buffy walked into Darcy’s first floor apartment. Dark, she thought. Giles followed her into the room.

"I still don’t see why I couldn’t come alone." He said. "Oh. A bit dark isn’t it?"

"You couldn’t come by yourself because you don’t know what sort of clothes she would wear. It’s not your fault. You’re a guy, I’m a girl. I know what a fellow member of my fair sex would wear. You, as a male, do not. Simple."

The vampire behind them, smirked toothily. He slammed the door shut. Buffy spun and punched him in the mouth. One of his fangs fell out. The smirk gone, he clapped his hand over his mouth and stared at the Slayer with shock. She quickly staked him.

"Uh ,Buffy." Giles prodded as the vampire's ashes fell. "He brought a friend."

Buffy turned to see Giles hanging from a vampire’s hand. She sighed.

Day Five, Sunday, High Street, St Treharne, Cornwall

Xander strolled back to the house, munching happily on an uncooked crumpet, the bag of doughnuts tucked under his arm. He was totally oblivious to the looks of disbelief and disgust the locals threw his way. He broke into a jog as he spotted Buffy and Giles in front of him.

"Hey guys, what’s up?" Buffy and Giles glared at him.

"Oh, nothing. Darcy just set us up, that’s all." Buffy strode a little faster.

"Now Buffy, we don’t have any proof." Giles admonished.

Buffy stopped in her tracks.

"Giles, her place was overrun with vampires."

"Man, I hear those pesky vamps are harder to get rid of than cockroaches." Xander was silenced by the killer glare Buffy sizzled his way. Giles shuddered when he saw what Xander was eating.

Buffy turned back to Giles. "It was a set-up. I know one when I smell one." She said, trying to convince him.

"Well, that maybe, but we still have no proof."

"Oh!" Buffy took a step back, feigning surrender. "Fine, come to that, we don’t even have any proof that she’s a dhampir. Only her word."

"Hey, steady on Buff, the girl did survive a stake through the heart." Xander stood up for Darcy and regretted it when Buffy turned on him.

"Oh, so you’re on her side too!"

"I’m not on anyone’s side." Buffy stared at him disbelievingly. "I just think, maybe we should hear her side of the story first."

"Excellent plan Xander. I concur." Giles sighed when Xander looked at him in confusion. "I completely agree."

"Oh. Well why couldn’t you just say so?" Xander shook his head sorrowfully. "It’s definitely your age. Other Brits don’t talk that way." Xander attention was caught by something on the opposite side of the road. "Hey, it’s Basil." He shouted. "Hey, Bas!"

The small cat spotted the trio and picked his way across the busy road. "It’s Basil." He told Xander.

Xander shrugged, "Bas, Basil, it’s all the same."

"No, it really isn’t. Really. Trust me on this one. Totally different."

Giles took his glasses off and waved them vaguely, "I thought we told you to stay in the house."

Basil stretched gracefully. "You did. But one of my contacts told me the family’s on the move."

"And who, might I enquire, are your contacts?" Giles asked, pinching the bridge of his nose, his glasses poised mid-air.

A fluffy white cat ran up to Basil and meowed urgently. "Meet, Snow-fluff, one of my best spies." Basil said proudly.

"Cats?" Buffy asked incredulously. "You use cats, to spy on your family." She laughed, Xander laughed, even Giles allowed himself a quick smile.

Basil looked as offended as a cat could look, "Hey! Don’t knock it, it works."

Buffy quickly straightened her face into a smirk. "Sorry."

"Anyway, I have to be tracking the family down." Basil stalked away, every line of his body stiff and straight.

"Really sorry!" Buffy called after him.

Snow-fluff stared at them then trailed after Basil, meowing questioningly. Basil didn’t look back.

"Okay." Buffy returned to the topic they had been discussing. "Since I am temporarily outvoted, lets go talk to Darcy." She strode on up the street, the Giles and Xander trailing after her like Snow-fluff had trailed after Basil.

"Hey, gotcha something." Xander offered the packet of doughnuts to Giles.

"Oh, many thanks. I don’t suppose they’re raspberry jam?" Giles reached for the packet and Xander whipped the doughnuts out of his reach. Giles frowned.

Xander checked the label quickly, he knew what Giles was like about his doughnuts. "Yep, sure are." He handed the packet to Giles with a sigh of relief.

Giles swung the packet by his side and smiled happily. He glanced at Xander, about to make some inane comment about the now gloomy weather and changed his mind when he saw Xander bite into a crumpet straight from the packet. Shuddering a little, he picked up his pace.

Day Five, Saturday, 15 High Street, St. Treharne

Darcy ran through the back door of the Watchers Council house.

It had been decided that she would stay with Giles, Buffy, Xander, Anya and Willow for a while.

For your protection, Buffy had told her.

Does she have to? Anya had asked.

To help us with our research and so forth, Giles had said.

Whatever the reason, Darcy didn’t mind. For the first time, she felt like she belonged, like she was needed. And the last thing she wanted was to let everyone down and cause them pain. And it sounded as though that’s what she would be doing if anyone found out that she had been sneaking off to meet with Angel, Cordelia and Doyle. She went through into the library. And the library had, for some reason, become accepted as the Scooby Gang’s headquarters. Darcy turned the radio on and Giles’ favourite jazz station broke the silence. She picked up one of the many books lying on the table, settled into a leather armchair and began to read.

Barely two minutes later, Darcy heard the front door bang and shot to her feet. She slapped the book she had just picked up down on the closest flat surface, the floor, and raced into the hall.

"Hi!" She said brightly, staring at the trio in the hall. "Buffy, guess what…"

Buffy glared at her and stalked over. "You set us up!" She shouted, pushing her face into the tiny girl’s.

Darcy stared, confused, at Buffy. "I, I don’t know what you’re talking about." She whispered.

"Now Buffy," Giles stepped further into the room "We simply don’t have any concrete evidence that…"

"Shut up Giles!" Buffy snapped. A slightly hurt look spread across Giles’ face.

"Hey!" Xander said, trying to defend Giles. Buffy turned to face him, about to attack.

"What are you talking about?" Darcy shouted.

Buffy turned back to Darcy. "I’m talking about you, sending us to get your clothes, knowing that your apartment was full of vampires just undying to get a piece of the Slayer. I’m talking about you being no more than a lying, no good, spy!"

"There were vampires at my apartment?" Darcy asked shakily. "In daytime?"

"Don’t pull the innocent with me!" Buffy paced a little. "You know there were."

"Buffy, I don’t think she had anything to do with it." Xander said

"How many?" Darcy asked Buffy urgently.

"Two." Buffy looked sheepish.

"It was Ramiculus." Darcy ran her fingers through her hair and sighed tensely.

"And your proof being?" Buffy spread her hands out, a questioning look on her face.

"Did you get any of my books?"

"Why?" Buffy was mystified

Xander looked at his feet and kicked the box Buffy had dumped on the floor toward the duelling pair. Darcy knelt and rummaged through the box. She cried out in triumph, pulling out a particularly battered book. She quickly found the page she wanted and showed Giles.

"It’s all here. What Ramiculus is going to do, when and how." She smirked triumphantly.

"And this refers to our conversation how?" Buffy was sceptical.

"There are certain days when he can perform this ceremony. If he misses this one, there won’t be another for six centuries. The ritual must be performed in two days time. He sent two vampires to my home to catch me, one for each day. It’s the sort of thing he does. Something to do with poetry. Look, you have to trust me. Read the books if you don’t believe me. Then you’ll see that I’m telling the truth."

Giles looked up quickly, too engrossed in what he was reading to spare them more than a quick glance. "It’s probable that she’s telling the truth." He looked up at them again. "This text certainly seems to corroborate her story."

"There are others." Darcy pointed to the cardboard box on the floor. "You can double check, do loads more double checks."

Giles’ face lit up at the thought of all the cross-referencing.

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