AUTHOR: Tisienne Blue

E-MAIL: tisatko@msn.com

DISCLAIMER: All characters except Serena belong to their respective studios/ producers/ creators... Serena is mine.

NOTES: This is a Buffy/ Angel/ Highlander/ Pretender X-over, and is for Nat's b-day. For my purposes, the suck ass fifth season
of Highlander never happened.

RATING: R-ish, I think, overall...

PAIRINGS: W/A; Ser/Jarod...

DISTRIBUTION: Charity gets anything she wants from me... list archives and those I've said yes to before are OK, too.
Otherwise, just ask.

FEEDBACK: would be nice.

DEDICATIONS: for Natty, of course... Please see below...

MORE NOTES: OK, so Tisienne had a big bad VIRUS problem, and had a BITCH of a time fixing it. In the end, I had to re-format
my hard-drive, and re-install all my programs, so basically, this means that I have lost all my old fic, and my list of those who've
sent me feedback. As you know, I like to list those who've fed me back by name in the dedis, but I can't this time, and I'm
sorry. Things will be back to normal now, though, since virus gone down the hole...

&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*

It had been three hours. Three hours since she'd touched him; three hours since her heart had beat freely; three hours since
she'd known what it was to truly NEED... three hours since she'd felt alive.

And she'd spent those hours-- not in thought, or reflection on what might have happened, but-- in anger. In hate. In fear. She
hated the Gypsies, she'd decided. Hated them more than she'd ever known was possible. They hadn't performed their little curse
out of a desire for justice, and she KNEW it! No, it was all about vengeance... vengeance and pain.

Unfortunately, they hadn't considered, in the casting, that the vampire might not be the only one hurt by their actions, and
THAT was the true cause of her anger. That they'd desired some payback, she understood, but that they'd been so
shortsighted... well, THAT she could never understand. Hadn't it occurred to them that Angel, with a soul, would be strong, and
smart, and altogether lovable? Hadn't they realized that in adding that bitch of a clause, they were condemning some poor
young woman to a lifetime of heartache? Of course not. Because they never stopped to THINK! But SHE didn't have that
luxury... she couldn't.

There wasn't any way that she could be with him, but... there wasn't any way she couldn't, either. When she was close to him,
touching him, she couldn't think; couldn't reason. It was like, she thought, some sort of an irresistible pull towards him; towards
a fulfillment that she could never really have, and... it was making her crazy. If she stayed with him, she would eventually stop
caring about the consequences of her actions, and she had the feeling that eventually he would, too. And that was something,
she reminded herself, that must never be! But she didn't know what to do. She should leave, she supposed, but... she'd just
found him, after all... just discovered that he was the thing she'd been missing all her life. And he was probably the reason her
other relationships had failed, because... it wasn't possible that the depth of feeling she was experiencing for him had just...
popped up, all of a sudden. She must have loved him for a very long time, and she just hadn't known it, or been willing to admit
it, even to herself.

She sighed, and turned over fitfully on the bed, unable to find even physical comfort right then. It would be a while, she knew,
before she'd be able to relax enough to sleep, especially since it was still early by Paris standards. Even if she HADN'T been all
keyed up from her own thoughts, it would have been difficult.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Serena smiled softly, and kissed Jarod on the cheek as the knock sounded, yet again, on the door to their suite. "I'll be back
soon, love..." she murmured as she pulled away.

"You'd better be, Ser," he said, equally softly. He took a step after her when she turned away, and his hand rested on her
shoulder. "Hey." He pulled her tightly against him, breathing in the sharp, citrus-y scent of her hair. "Be careful."

The redhead hugged him back, her eyes slightly misty. She'd had the chance to explain what she was in detail, and... now he
knew. Every time she walked out the door, she might not be coming back. Of course, the same could be said for anyone, but...
"I will, J," she said quietly against his neck, "I'll be careful, and I'll be back." She pulled away from him again then, and went to
the door. "Duncan." she said, to the tall, dark immortal waiting there.

Duncan nodded in response, his instinctive smile subdued by the look on the woman's lover's face. "I'll have her back to you in a
few hours," he directed to the dark haired man before taking the redhead's arm in his own and walking down the hall with her.
He watched her from the corner of his eye as they waited for the elevator, and smiled slightly when they got on and the doors
closed. "It's always hard for them at first," he said to her.

Serena sighed, nodding. "I know. It doesn't make it any easier, though." She leaned back against one mirrored wall as the
elevator began its descent. "I hate it, Duncan," she explained tightly. "I hate the look in his eye when I leave his sight... it's like
he's already started to mourn me, and I'm not even DEAD!" She closed her eyes for a moment, and opened them again as she
continued. "I know I could be challenged at any time, and I know that I'm not the best, but... damn it! I'm good enough to have
lasted THIS long, and..." She sighed again, "But he's worried. I understand that, I just don't know how to take it. I mean, a part
of me is thrilled that he cares so much, but still... another part of me feels like..." She shook her head, at a loss for how to
explain it.

The other immortal nodded once. "Like he thinks you're NOT good enough to survive if he's not with you. I know." He smiled
slightly into her surprised green eyes. "It's like I said, Serena, it's hard for them at first... knowing that someone might take your
head, and that they'll never know who or how... It takes a while for them to get it, but... they do, eventually. And Jarod? I
think he'll understand sooner than most." He took her arm again as the elevator doors opened, and they stepped out into the
lobby, talking of inconsequential things for anyone who might overhear them.

Serena settled herself into the passenger seat of the small car. "So," she said, as he got behind the wheel, "They've agreed to
help?"

MacLeod sighed and shook his head as he started the car and pulled away from the curb. "No. It's a big deal, for us to ask them
to interfere in another clan's business, but they trust me to a certain extent, and that's only because Jacob was my friend for
so long, so... they've agreed to hear us out, and... We'll just have to wait and see."

She pressed her lips tightly together and nodded curtly. "Fine." she said flatly, "But if they WON'T help..."

Duncan sighed again, surprised by how much he'd been doing that lately. "If they won't help," he said reluctantly, "Then we'll try
YOUR sources."

"Good." Serena said, and settled down for the rest of what was going to be a long, silent drive.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The blond stared fixedly at the monitor in front of him, and when its task had finally cycled through, he almost laughed at what
he saw displayed before him. The bloody poof thought he was so clever, but it had taken him less than two hours to figure out
where he was.

It had been fairly easy, too. All he'd had to do was bribe the night watchman at Paris' City Hall, and bam! He was in the Hall of
Records. Ten minutes later, he'd found the section for properties and deeds, and after that, it had been just a matter of waiting
for the computer to locate the apartment that had once been owned by a Mr. Rex Angelus. Spike had laughed at the name,
finding it amusing that Angelus' pride had let him name himself King.

After that, it had been more waiting, while the computer searched for records of the property changing hands. Oddly enough, all
the 'people' who'd bought it over the years had had the word 'Angel' somewhere in their names. Angelus... Archangelo...
Angelarius... d'Angelone... Angelian. And the latest owner, who had just acquired the property days earlier? He was listed as an
A. Seraph, but... Spike knew who it really was, and he wrote the address down on a scrap of paper and left the room. He
walked quickly to the side door, and grinned wildly as he forced it open. He listened to the alarm blaring as he strode off into the
night. The police would be there soon, and... he figured it served that guard right. The man shouldn't be letting people into a
government building after hours, anyway.

He walked a few blocks, in no particular hurry, and flagged down a taxi. Passing the paper with the address over the seat, he
leaned back, and smiled as he watched the city passing by outside his window. He was going to see Red, and he could just
ignore Paingel... after all, it wasn't as if Brood-boy would want to talk to him in the first place. His smile grew broader as he
thought about the look she'd wear when she saw him. He hoped she'd be pleased.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The tall brunette smiled yet another razor-blade smile as she waited for the balding man to finish his latest ramble. "So what
you're telling me," she interrupted when there appeared to be no end in sight, "Is that Wonder-boy is somewhere in France."

"Ahhh... well, it LOOKS like it... but there's nothing conclusive, and it could just be..." He cut himself off, and swallowed hard at
the look in her eyes. He hated that look; it always made him feel like a mouse, about to be devoured by a big cat after it had
spent a good long while batting said mouse around just to watch it panic and run. Of course, that was a fairly accurate
description of their entire relationship, so... "Yes," he finally said, sneaking another glance at her. "Someone named Jarod
Johnson left from Dulles International Airport with a Serena Johnson a few days ago. The plane landed in Paris, but they could
be ANYWHERE by now. I mean, there's no guarantee that they're even still in France, much less..."

She shut him up with a look. "Johnson and Johnson?" she repeated, a dangerous gleam in her eye, "I wonder if that means the
Boy-wonder is getting some..."

"Or," the completely whipped computer whiz interjected, hoping to impress her with his humour, "Maybe he's selling first-aid
supplies?" He almost groaned when she glared at him. "Bu... but seriously, I haven't been able to find anything that he'd be
interested in there. I mean, there are no reports of anyone being falsely accused, or betrayed, or... or anything!"

The tall woman sighed, rolling her eyes. "If you saw things the way HE did, Broots, YOU'D be the pretender. Now, have someone
get the jet ready. We're going to Paris." She turned and stalked towards the door before stopping for a moment. "And tell
Sydney to get packed," she threw over her shoulder, "He's coming with us."

The computer man sighed in relief when she was finally gone. He might have a little bit of a crush on the woman, but she was
just... scary when she got like that. He sighed and picked up the phone, dialing the direct line to the Centre airstrip. It was just
a shame that she was ALWAYS like that.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

He was standing just outside the door to his Sire's... Red's apartment. He'd thought that getting into the building would be the
hard part, but he'd had a bit of luck with that part. He'd just been getting out of the cab when an elderly woman walked up,
laden down with bags. Apparently, he'd smirked to himself, the old bag had gone out for some bags. But he'd thought that he
might as well give her a try, so he'd relieved her of a few of them while she'd been fumbling with the lock. He'd smiled his best
'harmless' smile, and she'd actually bought it, inviting him to carry them to her door. He'd done it, of course, and he'd taken the
franc notes she'd pressed upon him in thanks before taking the stairs up to the proper floor. He'd found the apartment, no
problem, but... that had been almost twenty minutes earlier, and he still had no idea of what to say when he finally DID knock.

He growled slightly to himself as he paced in front of the door marked 39. Maybe he should have called first, he told himself;
that way, Red wouldn't be shocked by his arrival... but, no, he reminded himself, he'd wanted to surprise her! He stalked to the
door and raised his fist before stopping and returning to his pacing. Besides, maybe she wasn't even IN there... she could have
gone out. He sighed deeply. No, he knew she was there; he could hear her heartbeat. The poof was there, too, though. He
could feel him through the Sire/childe bond they shared. He started pacing again, looking for the perfect opening line.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Angel sighed deeply and rolled gingerly onto his back. He could hear Willow in the next room; could still taste her on his lips, in
his mouth... If he closed his eyes, he could still feel her warmth, her hands on his skin, her nipples tight against him while they
kissed. He knew he was sick; that there was something seriously wrong with him, because... even though he knew what it
would mean, he still wanted nothing more than to lose himself in the heat of her; love her long and hard, until there was nothing
left of his soul...

He groaned softly to himself, one hand rubbing against the straining bulge in his slacks. It wasn't fair, he thought. Here he'd
finally found the one woman he KNEW was perfect for him... she accepted everything about him without batting an eye. She
brought him blood, and watched while he drank, and he'd never thought that he'd be comfortable drinking in front of a human,
but... that label had long-since ceased to apply to her. He didn't think of her as human anymore... she was Willow, and that was
the only way he could define her. Willow.

His fingers slowly slid the zipper down, and he pushed his pants button through its hole while he thought. She was everything
he'd never had any right to hope for; everything he'd never known he needed, and... she was less than twelve feet away, and
he could never touch her... never again. But he could remember what little they'd had, and he would, every night for the rest of
his hopelessly long life. His eyes fluttered closed as he pulled himself from his pants, and he sighed softly when his fingers
wrapped around his hard shaft. He wished that he could pretend it was HER hand stroking him, but... his fingers were too large,
and his palm too cool, so... He imagined that she was there... that he was touching himself at her request, and... it was almost
good.

He could picture what she'd look like, laying there beside him, her eyes wide as she watched his fist sliding up and down his
twitching cock. Her gaze would flit back and forth between his face and his hand; her tongue would creep out to wet her lips,
and she would be breathing harder and harder, much like he was, although HER breaths would be necessary. She would watch
him, small moans emerging from her mouth, as his hand moved faster, and... He groaned, and squeezed his eyes shut even
tighter as he felt the familiar tightening in his groin.

His hand moved faster then as he pictured her reaching out; her warm hand covering his own as she learned his rhythm; his
stroke... She would, eventually, push his hand away and take over for him, but he'd save THAT fantasy for another time... For
now, the thought of her touching him while he touched himself would have to do.

Her hand would slide slowly from his, and move softly up his stomach, stopping for just a moment at his navel before moving
on... She would touch him again, her fingers caressing his tight nipples, before her mouth took their place. He could almost feel
it, he was concentrating so intently, as his fist moved faster and harder on his throbbing member. She would lick him, and her
teeth would latch gently onto one tiny male bud, and then... His back arched a bit, and he moaned, as he imagined her biting
him, hard, and he almost shouted as he exploded into the cool air of his room.

Slowly, ever so slowly, he released his grip on his softening cock and opened his eyes. He glanced down at himself, glad to see
that he'd hardly gotten any cum on his pants... most of it was on the naked skin of his abdomen; only a few drops had gotten
as far as his chest. He sighed, and forced himself to sit up, wiping at his skin with the sheet. He needed to feed again, and... he
couldn't ask her to help him. She probably didn't even want to see him just then.

He shifted a bit, waiting for the pain, and when it was much less than he'd expected, he forced himself to stand and cross
slowly to the bedroom door. He listened for a moment as he re-fastened his pants, and hearing her still in her own room, he
pulled his door open and started for the kitchen. He was almost halfway there when he heard the knock on the apartment's door
and turned his steps.

He sighed as he approached it, hoping it wasn't his neighbor complaining about the non-existent dog again, and the apology was
ready on his lips as he pulled the door open. His eyes widened, and he took a shocked step back when he saw who it actually
was. "Spike..." he managed to get out before he was tackled to the floor, the entry and exit wounds from Serena's sword
opening further and bleeding freely again as he hit the wood, hard.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

It had taken him another five minutes or so to finally steel himself to knocking, and when he had, it hadn't been Red who'd
answered the door. He figured that he should have expected as much, what with the Nancy-boy being as protective as he was,
but... he hadn't expected the poof to be half naked, and he REALLY hadn't expected him to smell of sex, and... Willow?

He'd growled then, and flew at the ponce, determined to beat him to a pulp for daring to take advantage of the girl, and when
he'd knocked the prick to the floor and was straddling him, in full game-face, he decided that nothing had ever been as
satisfying as the feeling of his tightly clenched fists impacting hard on the poof's oh-so-sensitive face. "How dare you, you
bastard?" he shouted, still beating his Sire. "How dare you TOUCH her!" He was so caught up in his defense of Willow's honour,
he didn't even notice when the girl he was 'defending' ran from her room.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

She'd heard the rather tentative knock at the door to the apartment, but she'd also heard the slight sounds of Angel moving in
the living room, and she'd pulled her pillow over her head for a moment, determined to let him answer it, wounded or not. After
all, she figured, she was wounded, too, only not in a way that was visible to the naked eye. Let HIM suffer a little, she thought,
knowing that he had to be hurting from the still-unhealed thrust of Serena's sword.

After a moment, she sighed to herself, and putting the pillow back on the mattress, sat up. She wished that she had it in her to
just let him do whatever it was he was doing, but... she didn't. Besides, she was kind of curious as to who exactly would be
knocking on their door at-- she glanced at the clock by her bed-- 11:30 at night. She flew to her feet as she heard a loud,
angry voice that sounded like... Spike? But it couldn't be, she told herself, only to forget the thought at the sound of something
heavy hitting the floor, and a low, pained groan, coming from the living room. She dashed to her door and threw it open, gasping
as she ran from her bedroom.

"Spike!" she cried out, suddenly afraid. She didn't know how or why he'd come to be in the apartment, but... he was hurting
Angel, and that meant that it didn't matter. Whatever he was doing there, she wouldn't let him hurt the one she loved, and she
growled when he ignored her voice... apparently she'd spent too much time with him back in Sunnydale, because she'd never
known herself to growl before she'd known him. "Spike!" she shouted again, fear racing through her slight form when she noticed
the blood flowing freely from Angel's chest as he tried to block his childe's blows. She reached out to pull the blond from the one
she loved, only to catch a swift backhand, and she stood, hand pressed to her reddening cheek in shock.

Her surprise lasted for only a moment, though, before her eyes began to... glow. She didn't know who he thought he was, but
she was about to teach him a thing or two about messing with HER vampire! Small tendrils of cold green fire crept out from her
eyes as she glared at the back of the blond's head. Oh, yes, he was going to learn, and the lesson would start right... NOW!

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Duncan glanced quickly at the redhead sitting beside him in the car. She hadn't said more than a word or two since they'd left
the Elders of Jacob's old clan, and he was almost getting worried. "So..." he tried again, hoping he'd get an answer from her
THIS time, "That was easier than I expected." He sighed when she just nodded. It was almost like flogging a dead horse, but...
he had to keep trying. "Wonder why."

Serena shook her head slowly, and finally spoke up. "Why?" she said flatly, "I can tell you why. It's simple, really. They gave us
this spell," she continued, waving the piece of parchment in the air, "Because us having it doesn't matter. They have no reason
to worry about the Kalderash because no one, and I DO mean NO ONE, has the kind of power necessary to pull this off!" She
shook her head again, angrily this time. "Honestly, I can't think of anyone who's EVER had this kind of power! Gods know I don't,
Cassandra doesn't, and even Willow isn't strong enough in the arts for THIS one. No one is." She sat back then, closing her eyes
in defeat.

The dark haired immortal thought about it for a moment, and finally said the last thing he'd ever thought to say. "And... what
about YOUR contacts? Do you think..."

"No." the redhead cut him off. "They were a last resort, anyway... I've read the spell, and... it's the only thing that might work,
but..."

Duncan sighed deeply, watching the road in front of him as he turned onto the witch and the vampire's street. "But without the
right amount of power, it's useless." He pulled over to the curb almost half a block from the apartment building and shut off the
car. "Well," he said, after they'd sat there for a moment, "We might as well tell them the bad news."

Serena nodded silently, and got out of the car, walking beside him to the building. She dialed up to the apartment, and started
getting a bad feeling when the phone wasn't picked up. "This isn't good, Mac," she said softly as she looked around on the
sidewalk. "They should BE there, and if they're not answering..."

MacLeod flashed back on what Angel had told him of the curse, and the look on the girl's face when she'd mentioned the
vampire's name. He didn't think that they'd ever let things go too far, but he was well aware of the fact that sometimes things
happened, whether they were wanted or not, and especially when they were wanted AND not. "No. It ISN'T good." he replied,
wondering what she was doing.

The tall redhead sighed in relief and picked up a hairpin from the flower bed beside the sidewalk. "This'll work," she muttered
softly as she went to work on the lock.

"Do I even want to know?" Duncan asked, less than a minute later, as she pulled open the door and they started quickly to the
stairs.

"Amanda was the second immortal I met after I died for the first time," she explained, just before they ran up to the third floor.

Duncan trailed right behind her as she ran down the hall to number 39, somehow not surprised. What DID surprise him, however,
was the fact that the door to the apartment was wide open. That was nothing to the shock he felt when he saw what was
happening inside, and he wasn't sure of just how it had happened, but he was suddenly holding his sword in front of him.

Serena stared in awe at the small redheaded witch who was, at that particular moment, holding a snarling blond vampire three
feet off the floor with just the green threads coming from her eyes. She had been on the receiving end of that particular
treatment when she'd first run Angel through, but... it was a completely different thing to see it from the outside, and... she
somehow had the feeling that Willow was being much more gentle with the strange vampire than she'd been with HER. She
grimaced as she watched the tendrils of green wind around the blond's body and... squeeze, as he was thrown against the wall
and slammed repeatedly against it. Yes, the witch WAS treating the blond more kindly, but still... She obviously KNEW this other
vampire, or he wouldn't have been able to get into the building, much less the apartment! Serena winced as the blond's head
impacted harshly with the plastered bricks. "Willow!" she finally shouted, as loudly as she could, "Willow, stop it!" She glanced
quickly at the dark haired vampire moaning softly on the floor, almost cursing when she saw that the slightly healed wound in his
chest had torn open. "Damn it, Will! Angel NEEDS you!" she cried, a sense of relief flooding her when the girl finally focused on
her and let the blond fall.

Spike wasn't quite sure of what was going on. One minute, he'd been beating the poof for daring to touch the little redhead, and
the next... he was surrounded by some kind of green glowing shit! It was all he could see, and... he panicked when he felt
himself lifted from the floor. He could feel the whatever-it-was wrapping tightly around him, and let out a strangled gasp as the
thing tightened. Suddenly, he was hitting the wall, over and over again, and he struggled even more. Whatever this thing was,
he had to get free, because... who knew what it might be doing to Red and his Sire? He fell into an ungraceful heap when the
force that had held him suddenly disappeared, and he glanced nervously about the room, barely registering the presence of the
two new arrivals. "And what the bloody HELL was THAT?" he demanded as he stood, his human face finally sliding back on at the
sheepish, yet still pissed off look the little witch was giving him. "Red?" He stared at her for a moment before it registered on
him... Willow smelled like Angel, yes, but... there was no sex-smell coming from her. A bit of arousal, sure, but... He groaned and
closed his eyes for a moment before opening them again to look at Angel, who was just laying there, moaning and bleeding.
"Shit!" Spike said worriedly, his eyes once again flying to the witch's. "What the hell HAPPENED to him, Red?"

Serena sighed, staring at the back of the blond's head. There was something almost... familiar about him. "I happened to him,"
she said wearily, not sure that she was up for another fight just then. Her eyes flew wide, and her knees gave out, when he
turned around to face her. "William..." she almost whispered, not even noticing Duncan's speed in catching her. "Oh, gods..."

Spike's eyes were wider than he thought they'd ever been in his life as he truly looked at the redheaded woman. "Serena?" he
almost shouted in response to her quiet and shaky words. "What...?" He shook his head, completely stunned. "I thought you
were DEAD!" he muttered, almost to himself as he fell into the nearest chair in shock.

"Well," Angel managed to moan out, to no one in particular, "This should be... interesting..." His eyes flashed back and forth
between the two siblings, seeing that each was stunned into immobility. "Or not..." he sighed out, as blackness overtook him.

End-- Pt 14

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