We entered the warehouse, moving between tall towers of crates cautiously.
   "Where do you think it might be?" Wesley asked with an exaggerated whisper.
   He might as well have been speaking normally. I winced. Had he forgotten
   that I had inherited Angel's overly sensitive hearing?

   "Lower levels?" I suggested, taking an educated guess. "Where do demons
   always hang out? Underground."

   "Quite."

   I sighed. "Someday we're going to come across one that does something
   original. Rooftop dweller, loves sunlight, pays taxes and obeys the
   laws..." We made our way to a service elevator and entered it.

   "There are many species of peace loving demons...blah, blah, blah..." I
   winced as Wesley went into lecture mode. He promptly forgot about being
   quiet and began waving his axe about like a pointer.

   We exited on the lowest levels. There were several sharp <CRACKS> as we
   exited the lift. I froze, as did Wesley. "Did you hear that?" I whispered
   as he turned on a flashlight and shone it on the ground.

   The floor was littered with the husks of number two pencils as far as the
   eye could see. Their little yellow bodies were broken and discarded like
   refuse. I bent over and picked one up, holding it under the light.

   Wesley gasped. "The lead has been sucked out!" he exclaimed. "There must
   be thousands! It's a massacre!"

   Horrified, I dropped the body. The vast scope and viciousness of the
   carnage made me ill. It was pencil genocide. "Goddess!" I breathed. "What
   could have done this?!" But I knew, and I vowed swift and sure revenge on
   behalf of those poor, murdered pencils. They *would* have Justice.

   I charged further into the warehouse, pencil husks snapping under my feet
   with every step. I may have been walking on bones but it was necessary to
   put a stop to the Slaughter of the Pencils. Wesley followed, urging caution
   but I was ENRAGED.

   Have you ever noticed that people never look UP for impending danger? I
   was no exception and the demon dropped on me without warning. I never even
   saw her coming. She hit me like a bomb and knocked me flat on my back. A
   hard series of blows followed that left me disoriented.

   Wesley shouted and charged, holding the axe above his head for a great
   blow. He was heading straight toward *me* and the demon. I screamed like a
   girl. (Allowed! I *am* a girl!)

   The Sa Tyre demon turned to meet Wesley's rush. She looked EXACTLY like
   the drawing, including exaggerated sexual organs and eel-like things on her
   head that writhed like snakes.

   The demon struck Wesley in the face and knocked him over with one punch.
   He dropped the axe. She leaned over to sniff his unconscious form. "This
   one I will eat," she said, thinking aloud.

   "Hey! Medusa!" I shouted, standing. The reprieve had given me a chance to
   get my act together. Game face on! Super Angel To the Rescue! "Not if I
   have anything to say about it!"

   The Sa Tyre demon turned to me. "I will eat him later," she amended.
   "First, I will kill you." She lashed out at me with a blow so hard that it
   felt like a tree truck striking my chest. I went right back down to the
   ground.

   As predicted, I got my arse kicked and it hurt, hurt, hurt... But I did a
   good job of not whimpering or crying! Apparently, the Sa Tyre demon knew
   what a vampire was, because she stopped the arse kicking long enough to pick
   up a pencil.

   In my head, Angelus howled in fear and anger. *Let me out before you get
   us both killed!*

   The demon's distorted features loomed closer to mine as she bent over
   wielding the pencil in her claw, the instrument of my impending doom. Oh
   Goddess! It was just too humiliating. Staked with a pencil! Terrified, I
   started to comply with Angelus' demand to let him have control.

   There was a very distinct, very scary <CLICK> of a pump shotgun loading
   ammo into the firing chamber. The unexpectedness of it frightened me
   senseless. It scared the demon too. She froze.

   A pair of boots appeared beside my head. "Pick on someone your own size,"
   a voice stated flatly. The speaker had a Clint Eastwood drawl down perfect.

   A double-barreled <BOOM CLICK BOOM> sounded twice in quick succession.
   The right half demon's face and head exploded like a ripe melon. Pieces of
   skull and brains rained over my face and she fell over, landing beside me
   <KERPLOP>.

   I sat up. I looked up. "Angel!" I gasped his name and it was practically
   a prayer. I had never been so happy to see anyone before in my life.

   "I came as soon as I heard," he said, stepping over me. He pumped the
   shotgun again. It was then I noticed that the demon's limbs were writhing.
   She was still alive.

   "How did you find us?" I asked.

   "Your note--!!" The demon sprang to her feet with a howl and flew toward
   Angel, propelled by unholy strength. I let out a horrified squawk when she
   knocked Angel down and threw myself forward.

   The demon landed on top of Angel. My heart nearly left my body via my
   throat as visions of those wicked claws ripping open his gut filled my head.

   <BOOM>

   The demon's body rose and fell.

   <BOOM>

   The body leapt with the impact of another shot.

   I jumped in no particular direction, just needing to move. Oh Thank
   Goddess! The demon had handed on top of the gun barrel!

   "Why isn't it dying?" Angel shouted. With a smooth, fluid motion, he
   kicked the demon away and rolled to his feet. Her limbs were still flailing
   weakly.

   "You have to chop off her head!" Wesley's feeble voice called. Angel
   looked really cool, like an action hero, as he slammed the gun's stock into
   her head. I wish that I could look that good.

   "Wesley!" he demanded. "Axe!"

   "Axe!" Wesley called from the other side of the room. I cringed and a
   whimper escaped as the Rogue Demon Hunter / Klutz Extraordinaire tossed the
   axe straight at Angel. Visions of the blade embedding in Angel's chest
   danced through my head.

   Angel tossed the shotgun aside and caught the axe out of midair. He spun
   it twice in tight circles and whirled to face the demon as she gained her
   feet yet again.

   <SLICE>

   <THUNK>

   <SPLISH> (Yes, really, she went SPLISH.)

   Her head separated from her neck; her body fell to the ground. Icky gore
   gushed from her body and Angel bent over to inspect the body, making sure
   that it was dead.

   "Nice work," Wesley said as he stumbled over to Angel.

   "Thanks," Angel replied.

   "Where did you get the gun?" Wesley stared at the huge shotgun. Angel
   told me later it was called an Ithaca.

   "I stole it from a cop car," Angel supplied helpfully.

   Wesley exhaled. "Of course, how silly of me to imagine that you might have
   acquired it legally." He and Angel exchanged looks that jockeyed for
   position. (I'm not sure but I think Angel won.)

   Angel changed the subject. "Nice job there, buddy. You almost didn't need
   me." Angel patted Wesley on the back and the ex-Watcher visibly preened.
   Angel turned to face me. "Willow, are you OK?" he asked.

   "I'm alive," I said. "But I'm not," I immediately corrected myself,
   feeling oddly self-conscious. My eyes left his face. It was then that I
   noticed what Angel was wearing. Black, black, black... You can take the
   Angel out of the vampire but you can't take the vampire out of the Angel.

   And not just black but Black leather...tons of it. Black leather pants,
   black leather halter top, black leather duster, and even his fingernails
   were black. He wore spiked boots with heels so high he would have broken
   his neck if he fell. Sunglasses and the gun completed the look. He
   reminded me of a chic femme fatal, or maybe a female version of the
   Terminator.

   Angel had even mastered a hip-rolling feminine saunter that screamed sex
   appeal with a bullhorn. He wore my body well and he was beautiful. I felt
   downright dowdy in comparison. He made me feel self-conscious and awkward,
   realizing what a waste I had made of such a nice body. My ego plummeted to
   previously untold depths.

   "How did you find us?" Wesley asked.

   "I found Willow's note," Angel replied.

   Wesley clarified, "But how did you know to come?" He seemed fixated on
   finding out why Angel had returned unexpectedly to LA. Come to think of it,
   I was kind of wondering that myself...

   Angel glanced straight at me as we neared the car. He gave me a hard look.
   "I saw what you did to Spike. The second I saw him I knew what was
   happening."

   I cringed and hung my head in shame. Poor Spike! "What did you do to
   Spike?!" Wesley interrupted. "What was happening??"

   I answered Angel, "Is he OK? I didn't mean to hurt him but...but..." My
   voice was tiny.

   "What did Willow do to Spike?" Wesley Wyndam-Price demanded.

   "Spike is healing," Angel assured me, turning to face me. "Mostly hurt
   pride, and that will mend. I'm more worried about you." He touched my arm.
   There was so much compassion and understanding in his eyes that my own
   filled with tears. Finally, someone who *understood* what I was going
   through.

   "Hello? Can anyone hear me talking?" Wesley asked.

   I extended my hands and placed them on Angel's forearms. We were holding
   on to and supporting one another. "I've been so scared," I whimpered.
   "Angelus is awake inside of me, thinking and giving me nightmares. And when
   Spike showed up he slipped out and I lost control, and-HIC!"

   "Shh," Angel shushed. "I know what it's like." (As corny as it sounds,
   him saying that helped. Just knowing that he had genuine empathy for me
   made me feel less alone.)

   "Have I become invisible?" Wesley queried sarcastically, waving his hand in
   front of his face. "Because I don't *feel* invisible."

   Angel rolled his eyes. "Wes, personal, OK?"

   "Oh, very well! But don't come to me when..." The rogue demon hunter
   strolled off complaining. Angel took my arm and dragged me toward the car
   again.

   I followed Angel, overcome with gratitude. Not only had he saved mine and
   Wesley's life, but he had also killed the Sa Tyre demon for me. His
   understanding and support were overwhelming. When I imagine how hard it
   must have been to drop everything and come to LA with no notice... To just
   give up cavorting with Spike...and...and...

   SPIKE! *Speaking of Spike!* Ooohhh! I had almost forgotten! *Angel* was
   the...the... How did Spike put it? The "sex kitten" who had been "riding
   him hard and putting him away wet"!

   I went from sad to mad in two seconds flat. Feminine outrage filled me
   with potent indignation and I opened my mouth, prepared to let Angel have it
   with barrels.

   "Angel, what the blazes have you been doing with my body?" I demanded with
   righteous anger. Angel flushed and glanced at me. He had guilt written all
   over him. Before he could answer, Tara came running around the car toward
   us.

   I blinked. "Tara?" I gasped. Surprise knocked the stuffing out of my
   outrage. It was like my outrage was a big stuffed turkey, violently
   destuffed. Or something like that...

   "Willow?" she squealed, approaching me cautiously. "You're so...big," she
   said, looking me over. I once again felt self-conscious. Angel's body
   always feels like a potato sack compared to my own.

   "Tara!" I opened my arms and hugged her. She hesitated for a second and
   then threw herself into my arms. "What are you doing here?" I asked.

   She smiled and babbled. "Well, I saw you but it wasn't you. It was Angel
   but I knew that it wasn't you. The energy flowing through your body was all
   wrong for the soul in it. At first, I thought you were possessed. So I
   asked Angel what he was."

   She laughed. "It was funny cause he answered 'Angel' and I thought for a
   second that he was an angel because he has a very pure aura." She blushed
   and giggled again. "But I knew that he couldn't be a real angel because he
   also had a very passionate--"

   Angel cleared his throat. "Tara," he interrupted. "The cure?" I was
   still stunned.

   Tara nodded. "Oh right." She smiled and pulled a ring box out of her
   pocket, displaying it proudly. She opened it and something inside glowed
   with light. "This is a Katra." She took it out of the box. "It should
   restore the natural balance and put you and Angel back in the proper
   bodies."

   I nearly jumped over the moon with a surge of excitement. "Will it work?"
   I whispered, awed. I extended a shaking hand. I was afraid that it would
   vanish the moment I touched it.

   "It should." Tara smiled and placed it in my hand.

   "This is the reason it took me so long to get here," Angel volunteered.
   "Once I realized that you were losing control over the demon, I knew that we
   had to switch back as soon as possible."

   My smile finally broke free. Angel was promptly and summarily forgiven for
   acting like a sex-crazed fiend in my body. And for painting my fingernails
   black. "What do we do?" I asked, holding the Katra in my open palm. I
   could not wait to get it over with.

   "Just touch hands," Tara instructed. "The Katra will do the rest."

   I nodded and took a deep breath. I looked at Angel. His expression was
   inscrutable but his eyes were sad. He liked being alive and he wanted to
   remain so. I cannot say that I blamed him. But he was also willing to give
   it all up in order to insure that Angelus remained locked away.

   I have arrived at the conclusion that being Angelus' warden is one hell of
   a sacrifice... Have I mentioned recently how much I admire Angel? I cannot
   say it often enough.

   "Are you ready?" I whispered. He nodded and wordlessly extended his hand.
   My fear and excitement were running amuck as our hands got closer.

   Our fingers touched and there was a flash of white light.

   read the sequal The Big Bad

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