Iron Chains

AUTHOR: Winter

Parts: 1-6

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Angelus," the resonating voice beckoned from the shadows, taunting, "how long has it been? 100 years, I presume. I see you haven't changed...much."

"And what is that supposed to mean?" Angel snarled in reply, his golden eyes and ivory fangs flashing and gleaming in the dim light of the alleyway, "you trying to say I'm getting soft, old man?"

"On the contrary, you seem...refreshed. Almost rejuvenated. That's good. I'll need some strong warriors like yourself when the time comes," the powerful voice praised, "but first, let me see how well you have remembered my lessons."

Without warning, the figure leapt out of the shadows in a direct attack, taking Angel completely by surprise. Jumping back, Angel marveled at the man, completely untouched by time. Sure, he was immortal like himself, but the youth and pure vigor radiating from him was something Angel had not seen in all of his years.

Time had not taken its toll on this vampire as it had on the others. Eventually, the thrill of the hunt, the very thing that kept most vampires in their prime, wore off for many of the Oldest, but this was not the case here. After nearly 500 years, Angel noted, he had retained both his fire and his lust for the un-life.

And, consequently, he had retained his skill.

Angel just barely dodged the solid sick that lashed out from nowhere, but didn't have time to counter before a speeding fist came crashing into him, connecting firmly with the right side of his head.

The vampire continued his practiced assault, his lean body moving gracefully with each new twist, the full moon reflecting off of his dark hair and his handsome features, which were momentarily twisted into the face of the demon. "I'm disappointed, Angelus," he spoke between a mixture of attacks and evasions, "I'd thought you'd at least remembered the first rule I'd taught you."

As if to emphasize is point, he swiftly dodged Angel's scissors kick and instead grabbed his ankle, hauling him into the air and swinging him over his shoulder, into the brick wall of the alleyway.

As Angel's head smashed into the brick, he reflected briefly over the lessons this man, his once beloved friend and admired teacher, had carefully explained to him. Lessons he had hoped to forget with the passing of time. Lifting his head to glance briefly at the vampire, Angel found him towering over him, prepared to deliver another blow.

Using the wall as support, Angel flipped himself over and launched himself off of the wall, landing squarely behind the surprised vampire. Having finally received an opening, Angel used it to his full advantage, calling back every one the tactics he'd used as Angelus, both in the distant past and the recent past.

Bringing his fist up in an uppercut, he fiercely struck the bottom of the vampire's spine, sending him to his knees. Angel continued with a slicing kick and lashed the back of his elder's head, once, twice, three times, until the blows caused him to fall over onto the cold gravel.

Not one to miss a beat, though, the vampire twisted himself gracefully off the ground and back onto his feet. But he took a fraction of a second too long.

Taking the initiative, Angel repeated the exact movements the older vampire had made earlier, sending him into the same brick wall he had been pinned against just moments earlier.

"On the contrary," Angel snarled, "I've remembered every one of your lessons, which basically boil down to 'never play fair.' Isn't that right?" Now he was the one towering over his former mentor, and he mistakenly let his guard down.

The vampire quickly maneuvered himself and brought out his leg to footsweep Angel, brining him to the floor as well. "So you have remembered, then," he spoke admiringly, getting to his feet, "but you have lost your touch--and I must admit--that surprises me. I expected my battle with the great Angelus to be a bit more challenging. Why is it that you seem...different? More changed than I'd expected?" A look of suspicion flickered briefly in his eyes.

"Sent you to the floor, didn't I?" Angel replied, hostility emanating from his every pore as he got to his feet and dusted himself off.

"Yes," the vampire replied, "but you did not succeed in obtaining a full victory. I taught you to never settle for less."

"And I haven't," Angel countered in defense, "but you caught me by surprise," Angel continued, "never did expect to see you again. Thought you'd been dusted already."

"By who?" the vampire laughed, "the Slayer? Her pathetic Watcher Council? You should know by now, Angelus, the Slayer is no match for me," the pure malevolence in his voice betrayed the faded Irish timbre.

"So I've heard," Angelus spoke, vaguely remembering the Slayer he had helped him to kill.

"And seen," the vampire replied, catching the look in Angel's eyes.

Staring into his ice blue eyes, Angel's mind wandered briefly back to that night and back to those years that they had traveled together. His cruelty was unparalleled, even by Angelus.

Remembering that kill, Angel could picture perfectly the hungry glow in his teacher's eyes as he drained the slayer, the blood dripping off his gleaming fangs, the moon making his already pale skin seem ghostly white, and his wild dark hair, which was long then, blowing gently in the wind.

"Yes," Angel agreed, "and seen." Shaking himself out of the past, he continued, "So what brings you to my city, Jaufien?"

Jaufien took in a deep, exaggerated, breath, and replied, "Do you smell that?"

"Blood?" Angel asked, not sure where he was going with this.

"You always did have a one-track mind, Angelus," Jaufien laughed good-naturedly, "but no. Not blood. Fear, Angelus, fear. Fear for what they do not see. Fear of what they do not understand. Fear and pain. Suffering. It's what we thrive on, dear boy. And it shall be harnessed, when the time is right."

"Meaning?" Angel tried to sound indifferent. His mind whirled with thousands of interpretations of that statement, and for each one, he didn't like the implications. Something was happening, would happen, soon. And he didn't know what it was.

"Patience," Jaufien chided, "I will tell you everything when my plans have been completed."

"If I remember correctly, your plans were usually formulated very quickly, sometimes you didn't even have a plan--one of the things I liked best, if I do say so myself. So honestly, now, what difference would it really make if you told me now?" Angel asked, scared by the almost desperate tone in his voice. No matter what Jaufien had in mind, he knew it would mean complete and utter destruction.

"Such impatience," Jaufien's eyes narrowed with a renewal of suspicion, "why such an urgent desire to know of my plans?"

"Curiosity," Angel replied smoothly, attempting to cover up. He had to get out of there, and soon. It wouldn't take Jaufien much longer before he figured out that he wasn't Angelus. He was already suspicious. "But if you're not ready to tell," he continued, "get in touch with me when you are ready, and I'll be all ears."

Turning, Angel started to retreat from the alleyway when Jaufien's voice rang out, "And how, exactly, will I get in touch with you?"

Angel grinned, "I'll be around. After all, this is my city." Jaufien smirked and replied, "Obviously. Just be sure you're prepared for a return to the old days." The laughter that followed chilled Angel to the bone, as he recalled once more exactly what the old days had been like.

***

"Would you hold still!" Cordelia huffed as she held the wet rag in the air, waiting for Angel to stop pacing around the room so she could clean the blood off the back of his neck, "You're not gonna get some mystical revelation by wearing a hole in this floor!"

"Cordy's right," Doyle's voice quipped up from where he was seated on the edge of the office desk, "worryin' yerself into the ground isn't gonna help ya any."

Angel stopped pacing and faced Doyle, "What else did your vision show you Doyle?"

"I already told ya everythin', man," Doyle sighed, wondering how bad this guy really was if he had Angel all tied up into knots, "I saw Jaufien in an alleyway, attackin' some girl and suckin' some sort of energy from her. That's it. Pretty strange action for a vampire, though. I'd expect him to be suckin' blood instead. Were ya able to talk to the girl?"

"No; she ran off before I could say a word to her," Angel replied, seating himself next to Doyle. Cordelia sighed and came around the back of the desk to finish getting the blood off.

"If you're tryin' to ask whether or not I got her name," Doyle said, looking Angel in the eyes, "I didn't. She's not the key here."

"I know," Angel almost sighed, "I just need something to work with here."

"Here's a thought," Cordelia interjected, "why don't you just stake him? You know, big piece of wood, send it right into the heart? Instant dust? No more worries? Is this ringing any bells here?"

"I told you--I can't stake him," Angel rejected her idea,

"Please, Angel. This is not the time to get all sentimental about your mentor--or whatever the hell he was," Cordelia came around the desk to throw the rag away.

"It's not that I don't want to kill him, Cordelia. I can't."

"Why not?" Doyle questioned, "I mean, Cordy's got a good point there, again--man this is getting scary--dustin' him does seem the easiest way out," he concluded, getting an evil look from Cordelia.

"Look, guys," Angel tried to explain, "Jaufien is almost 300 years my elder. And he's got a hell-of-a-lot of experience. I almost got myself killed tonight while *sparring* with the guy. If I took him on for real, I'd lose. And whatever his plan is--no one would be able to stop him."

"Yeah, but ya did manage to even the score a bit tonight, right?" Doyle asked.

"Only when I used what he taught me, yeah. That's the only way to beat him."

"So then use what he taught ya!" Doyle exclaimed.

"It's not that simple. That fighting style...I gave that up a long time ago."

"Meaning when you got your soul back," Doyle finally realized the full extent of Angel's worries, "I'm sorry, man. I didn't mean to--"

"It's okay," Angel cut him off.

"You know, the soulless, evil, vampire, killers are never around when you need them," Cordelia joked, attempting to break through some of the tension that had suddenly filled the room, "too bad you're not Angelus."

The look that Angel gave her after making that statement sent shivers down her spine. "Hey, I'm sorry," Cordelia tried to apologize, "I was just trying to help."

"Try thinkin' before ya speak, Cordy," Doyle admonished her.

"No," Angel interrupted, "what Cordelia says is true. If I was Angelus, I could beat him."

"Would ya listen to what you're sayin', man? You're talkin' crazy, now," Doyle didn't like the look in Angel's eye.

"Hey, Angel," Cordelia waved her hand in front of his face, "I was just kidding. You know, kid-ding? Joking? As in not serious?"

Angel didn't seem to have heard either of them. He stood up and resumed pacing. "That might work..." he trailed off, "but I can't take the risk. But I have to stop him."

"Wow, slow down there man," Doyle, too stood up and physically forced Angel to stop moving to by placing his hands firmly on his shoulders, "Think about what you're sayin'! This isn't possible."

"Maybe it is," Angel looked him straight in the eye, "maybe it is possible...if I had the right help. I could do it. I could kill Jaufien and stop him from completing whatever plan he has up his sleeve. It's the only way. I have to become Angelus again."

Upon seeing the determination in his eyes, both Doyle and Cordelia paled visibly as a new tension-filled silence settled over the room.

End Part 1

Willow sighed dejectedly as she settled herself down on her bed in the dorm room that she and Buffy shared. Lying on her back and staring up at the ceiling, she glanced over at the twin bed across the room. Staring at the empty bed, the bed that had been unoccupied for more than three days in a row, Willow wished that she could somehow conjure Buffy up and force her to spend some time with her.

It wasn't that she wasn't happy for Buffy--she of all people deserved some happiness, and if Riley and the Initiative gave that to her, then she was all for it--but she couldn't help but feel like she was being replaced. Buffy spent almost all of her waking hours, and non-waking hours, in the company of her new boyfriend and his group. Xander spent most of his time with Anya, and Giles, after the entire turning-into-a-demon fiasco, had been spending decidedly less time at his home.

Willow soon found herself turning more and more to magick and the company of Tara--and she was thankful for it--but she missed feeling needed. With Buffy hanging out with Riley, Xander absorbed with Anya, Giles free of his Watcher duties, and Oz gone, Willow had begun feeling less and less important. She began wondering what it was she was even doing anymore-what purpose she served.

Sighing once more, Willow got to her feet and went over to her chest of magick supplies, pulling out the materials she thought she would need for a new spell she wanted to try. Deciding to do the spell with Tara, Willow gathered all of the materials into her handbag and grabbed her coat. Sending one last, almost forlorn, look at the neatly-made bed on the other side of the room, Willow stepped to the door and swung it open, coming face to face with Angel, whose hand was poised in mid-air, ready to knock.

"Angel!" Willow exclaimed, happy to see a friendly face--or relatively friendly at least. Then realizing that he had probably come to see Buffy, she continued, "Um, Buffy's not here right now--"

"That's okay. In fact it's better that she isn't here. I'm came to see you," Angel's voice was gruff with turmoil, and Willow instinctively knew that whatever he had come to say was obviously bad, and that he had obviously debated over it for a while.

"Well, um, come on in," Willow offered, worried about what the problem could possibly be, and what she had to do with it.

"Were you going somewhere?" Angel asked, noting for the first time that she had her bag in hand and a coat around her shoulders, "I didn't mean to ruin your plans or anything--"

"It's okay," Willow reassured him, "I was just heading out to drop in on a friend--but we didn't have plans. I was just--bored."

"I see," he answered, confused at the fact she wasn't hanging out with Buffy or Xander. "Well, he started, coming into the room and looking around, "this is where you stay?"

"Yep," Willow replied, closing the door and dropping her handbag and coat onto the chair next to her, "our home away from home. Or our home in our home that's not our home." Upon seeing Angel's confused expression, she hastily amended, "Uh, nevermind."

"Right," Angel decided it was best to let that one go.

"So what did you want to see me about?" Willow asked, seating herself onto her bed, and motioning for the obviously uncomfortable Angel to join her.

"Well," Angel cleared his throat and remained standing, "I kind of needed you help on a spell that I need to do."

"A spell? Really? And you want my help?" Willow practically beamed.

"Well, yeah," Angel answered, a little confused at her overly elated reaction, "I figured you were the perfect person to do the spell…considering you've done a similar one before."

"Really? Well, that'd be great! I'd love to help! I mean, I've only been sort of dabbling recently--nothing drastic--but I think I'm ready for the bigger stuff. Well, you know a few of my previous spells did go a little awry, but I think I know now how to keep that from happening. That's where I was going tonight, you know. To see this girl that I do spells with. And I was gonna try this really simple sort of spell--but it involves a lot of concentration, and if that were to have gone perfectly, then that would have meant that our convergence of internal energies was completely balanced, and--"

"Willow!" Angel interrupted her long-winded monologue by seating himself on the bed directly in front of her and grabbing her shoulders.

"Yes?" she asked, not seeming to realize that anything was wrong. Angel smiled at finally seeing something that hadn't changed since he had left, and he released her shoulders when he decided that he had her full attention. "You don't even know what sort of a spell I want you to do," he spoke.

"Oh, I'm sure it'll be fine," Willow told him with a wave of her hand, "probably a demon-banishing spell, or, oh! oh! maybe an exorcism? Wait! I know! It's a spell to track mystical demonic energy, right? Actually I saw a spell for that in this book over here--"

As Willow moved to get off the bed and retrieve the book, Angel found himself once more grabbing a hold of her, this time her wrist to keep her from getting up, and having to stop her from rambling.

"Willow," his voice compelled her to seat herself back down, "this isn't a normal spell. In fact, for your information, it's a very dangerous spell--"

"Ooh, danger. I can deal with danger. In fact--" Willow began.

"--Willow, listen to me. Doyle and Cordelia are upset that I'm even attempting it, and you probably will be, too, once I tell you about it, but I need you to let me explain everything first, okay?" he asked.

"Okay," Willow said a bit more calmly and quietly at this point, "Doyle's your friend in Los Angeles, right? The half-demon with the visions?"

"Yeah."

"Does this have to do with one of his visions?"

"Yes and no," Angel tried to explain, not quite able to find the right words, "I need you to do a spell to take away my soul." He spoke the words very slowly, ensuring the Willow understood the full meaning of what he was saying.

Obviously, she did. The color immediately drained from her face and she sat perfectly still, barely even breathing. Angel couldn't bring himself to break the silence that had descended. He knew he should be trying to explain the bomb he had just dropped on the girl, but he needed to know what she was thinking.

"You want..." Willow wasn't quite sure she had heard the plea right, "you want me to...you want to...Angelus?" the last word came out on a squeak.

"Yes," was all Angel could manage to say.

"But...but why?!" Willow erupted, "I mean, he's evil and cruel and evil and a killer and did I mention evil? I mean, he tried to kill every one of us, and Buffy. He tried to send the entire world to hell--and you want to become him?! Are you out of your mind? Of course I'm not gonna do a spell like that! Cordelia and Doyle were right. This is insane."

"Willow listen to me," Angel knew that it was now or never. He had to get her to understand. "This is the only way to stop Jaufien."

"Who?" Willow wondered.

"Look, I don't have time to go into specifics, but he's evil. And this is the only way to stop him."

"What do you mean you don't have *time* to go into specifics? You come back to Sunnydale to ask me to do a spell--*this* spell especially, and then you say you don't have the time to explain to me what it's all about?"

"I didn't mean it like that," Angel tried to calm her down. He was afraid of a reaction like this. "Jaufien was my mentor when I was Angelus. He knows me inside and out, and he'd be able to tell in no time that I wasn't Angelus. I couldn't fake it for long. He has to be stopped, Willow, and Angelus is the only one that can do it."

"Well, then there must be some other way to stop him," Willow stated matter-of-factly. "You can't just become evil to kill this guy--you can't just become evil of your own free will."

"I can," Angel stated just as certainly and almost coldly.

"Do you realize what you're saying?" Willow whispered, "you'd be becoming *him* of your own free will. You would be responsible for every life that he takes while he's free, every atrocity he commits. Everything that you've worked for, everything that you've tried so hard to rectify, your forgiveness, your redemption--you'd be throwing it all away. Angel..."

"You don't think I haven't thought of that?" Angel asked her, "I haven't been able to stop thinking about it. But it's a chance I have to take. It's something I have to sacrifice--for the good of all humanity."

"Angel, you make it sound like this guy is the devil himself. He can be stopped, Angel. You don't have to become Angelus. I mean, we found a way to stop the Mayor and the Ascension, the Judge, Spike, *you*, the Master, even Faith…we can stop this guy."

"I'm not so sure about that," Angel told her, "Jaufien...he's over 500 years old. Older than the Master. You thought I was cruel when I was Angelus? My atrocities pale when compared to his. I was taught by him. He kills for the sake of killing--not for blood, or even world destruction--he kills just so he can watch the light diminish and finally die out in his victims, and he enjoys it--so much more than I ever did. He kills for no reason at all--anyone and everyone. The games he would play--they were nothing compared to what I did--even to Drusilla. And his torture victims…you couldn't even imagine."

"But Buffy--" Willow clung to reason.

"Buffy is no match for Jaufien. Unless she's got a death wish, she has no place challenging him," Angel cut her off harshly.

"And you do?" she countered.

"I have to."

"But if we all helped? Buffy, me, Xander, Giles, you, even Spike-did you know that he can't hurt innocents anymore? Only demons?"

Angel looked surprised for a moment, but quickly shook it off. "It's no good, Willow. This is my fight. I have to end this."

"This isn't your responsibility. You're not his sire and he's not yours. This is a fight for all of us."

"It can't be that way, Willow."

"What is your problem!?" Willow felt like beating him to knock some sense into him, "this guy *can't* be all that undefeatable! Or all that bad!"

She looked directly into Angel's eyes as silence once more descended over the dorm room. "You think so?" Angel asked her, finally breaking the silence. The tone of his voice left no room for argument, as he launched into a rare re-telling of a haunting scene from his past.

~~~~~~~~~~

1807--the village of Kannaark

The air was stifling hot as on most nights of this region, but the two shadowy travelers in cloaks of black didn't seem to notice. They approached the small village of Kannaark silently and exchanged knowing, predatory, glances with one another.

"Are ya sure this is what ya want to do?" Angelus asked the elder vampire, whose eyes were gleaming from the sheer proximity of his prey.

"Of course, Angelus," Jaufien answered, "this is a good opportunity for you to watch and learn."

Angelus gave an almost derogatory snort in reply, and said, "I don't see why ya want to go through all the trouble. It's not like this is the only place to find a satric stone. They sell them all over the world, ya know. And if this is what yer tryin' to teach me, then I'll be runnin' around in circles for the rest of me un-life."

"It is not the ease with which you get the stone, Angelus," Jaufien sighed in slight irritation with his young protégée, "it's the manner in which you get it."

"Aye, Jaufien! If yer idea of gettin' the stone in style is gettin' it from this little village, yer probably out 'a luck," Angelus told him bluntly, wondering why he hadn't realized that the leader of the village wasn't going to give the satric stone to anyone anyway.

"I know what you're thinking," Jaufien informed Angelus after gauging his expression for a few moments, "and I know for a fact that Bernan won't give us the stone without a little...persuasion. And that's where the fun comes in. You have much to learn, my Angelus."

Angelus laughed at his mentor's twisted way of thinking, and replied cockily, "But I have much time to learn it."

"That you do," Jaufien agreed heartily, "that we both do. Shall we proceed?" he asked, offering his companion a mischievous grin.

"Aye, proceed we shall," Angelus spoke, returning an almost perfect reflection of Jaufien's grin.

***

Jaufien and Angelus burst into the main cottage of the village with an entire troop of villagers behind them, shouting obscenities in a language neither understood and neither cared to learn.

"Bernan!" Jaufien shouted as he entered the home of the leader of the village, calling him from a back room, "tell your people to leave my companion and myself alone!"

A stout man, middle aged and balding, emerged from another room to see who it was that had caused all of this hostility. At the sight of two vampires standing in front of him, Bernan's face paled perceptibly, and he whispered something hoarsely in his native tongue to the obvious leader of the civilian group.

Jaufien eyed both men suspiciously, but the leader of the group bowed his head in obvious compliance and he and the others retreated, leaving their elder to his business. Turning his attention back to his unwelcome visitors, Bernan asked coldly, "What do you want, Jaufien?"

"Is that any way to welcome your old friend, Bernan?" he countered, smiling complacently at the man whom he had collaborated with on a recent occasion.

"Our dealings are done, vampire," he hissed, "you got what you wanted."

"Yes, as did you I see," Jaufien smiled, gazing around at their surroundings, "leadership becomes you." After a slight pause, and a silent battle of gazes between himself and Bernan, Jaufien continued, "You haven't met my newest companion, have you? Angelus, Bernan. Bernan, Angelus."

"I see you are trying yet again to create a duplicate of yourself, Jaufien," Bernan half-threatened, "I hope for the sake of all man-kind that this vampire is as much a failure as all the rest."

"Are ya calling me a failure?" Angelus snarled, eyes flashing but game face still hidden away. He had learned a lot about self-control from Jaufien, "'Cause if ya are, then I'd have to teach ya a thing er two about failing, or, in simpler terms, gettin' the life beaten out 'a ya."

"He certainly has a temper," Bernan retorted, all the while glaring at Jaufien. "I asked before, and I'll ask again. What do you want?"

Angelus made as if to lunge for the man, but Jaufien put out his arm to effectively stop him, "Not now," he ordered him. Speaking to Kannaark's leader, he continued, "What do I want? Well, it's simple, really. I want your satric stone."

A confused look came into Bernan's eyes as he spoke, "A satric stone? You came here to my land, disturbed my people, all for a satric stone? You can find them anywhere in the world."

"I know," Jaufien spoke as if he were talking to a child, but his voice was devoid of all emotion, "but I want yours."

"But-but...you can't have it!"

"Really? And why is that?" The tone of Jaufien's voice sent shivers down Bernan's spine, but he refused to back down, "It's been in my family for years."

"Well if they're so common, then find another one," Jaufien offered, mocking a solution.

"It has sentimental value," Bernan pleaded.

"That's too bad. I want the stone."

"No," Bernan held his ground.

Angelus raised an eyebrow in mild surprise at the human's defiance, and glanced at Jaufien for his reaction.

"No?" the elder vampire asked.

"No," Bernan repeated with conviction.

Jaufien sighed exaggeratedly and replied, "Well, then. Don't say I didn't warn you. You know I'm not someone who one can expect to refuse and survive."

Bernan's eyes widened with the sudden chill that had swept into the room, and his eyes reflected an almost valiant internal battle with his fear. He looked as if he were about to speak, but Jaufien turned on his heel, gathering Angelus up with a look, and headed for the door.

"Expect me back soon," he informed the trembling man, "very soon."

***

The wind howled the following night in protest of the events to come. The air was no longer warm and sticky, but rather chilling and harsh, as lighting and thunder struck across the skies. The heaven's screamed in outrage at the scene about to unfold, and the sheer malevolent energy in the air was no doubt both sickening and frightening beyond imagination for the Sensitive.

Jaufien looked once again at Angelus who was, as normal, by his side, and the dozen or so minions behind them. "I promised you a gourmet, did I not?" he spoke to them, much as a mad scientist would speak to his unintelligent creations, "feast away!" his hand offered the tiny village of Kannaark to them invitingly, and he watched with the same gleam in his eye as his minions ran forward at their master's command.

Turning to Angelus, his tone shifted immediately to that of a father speaking to his son, as his equal. "Ready?" he asked. Angelus nodded in response, the thrill of the hunt building up inside of him. He was learning quickly.

Entering the village once again, Jaufien found to his pleasure that dozens of bodies already lay lifeless, littered about the streets. Blood oozed out from underneath failed hiding places, and screams and crashes could be heard from behind the doors of many of the cottages. Jaufien made a direct beeline for Bernan's cottage, Angelus close on his heels. Throwing the door open, Jaufien glared triumphantly at the still trembling man, who was huddled with his wife and child, an open box lying before him on the table.

"You wanted my satric stone!" his voice quivered with desperation, "Take it! Take it! But leave my people alone!" He thrust the stone at Jaufien with as much force as he could muster, but the vampire caught it easily, his grin spreading even more.

"Now think how much easier things would have been if you had just handed this over in the first place," Jaufien admonished the man.

"So you'll call your attack off?" Bernan asked him, pulling his son closer to him. Jaufien smiled and replied, "Of course...not."

With those words, Angelus leapt forward and grabbed Bernan's child, effectively snapping his neck. The mother screamed in anguish and ran forward in a half-crazed attempt at murdering her son's killer. Angelus gathered her into his arms easily and sank his fangs into her neck, drawing her blood hungrily into his mouth.

"No!" Bernan cried, running forward, only to be stopped by Jaufien. As Angelus dropped the woman's lifeless body to the ground, Jaufien held up the satric stone. "You know?" he spoke, "this stone? You can find them all over the place. Practically sell them on every corner." Throwing the fragile material onto the ground, Jaufien watched as it shattered into a hundred pieces before he continued, "I really have no need for yours. It was a pleasure seeing you again, Bernan," he called over his shoulder as he and Angelus left the demolished village amidst screams, cries, Bernan's wild pleas for death, and their own laughter, echoing terrifyingly in the night.

~~~~~~~~~~

"Do you understand now?" Angel asked. His eyes had taken on a faraway look, as a part of him was still trapped in that night, would always be trapped in that night, and all the other nights like it, until the end of Time Itself.

"I'm sorry, Angel," Willow reached out with her hand to cover his own, "I didn't know that...that anyone--even a vampire--could be so..."

"It's okay," Angel told her, coming back to himself. "But do you understand my point now? Do you see why he has to be stopped?"

"Yes," Willow agreed with him, "he does have to be stopped. If something like that were to happen again--in LA no less--I don't know."

"That's exactly my point," Angel spoke, feeling slightly relieved that he had finally gotten Willow to understand, despite the pain the memories had caused him. "And if Angelus is the only one that an stop Jaufien--"

"--Then we have no choice," Willow finished for him, wondering how she ever got caught up in this mess in the first place. "All right then," she continued, getting off the bed, "I'll go and see if I can track down Buffy and Giles and let them know what's up--"

"No!" Angel cut her off quickly, "we can't tell them."

"What?" Willow asked, feeling suddenly that the progress they had just made was now offset. "And why, exactly, can't we tell them?"

Angel looked at Willow squarely in the eyes as he spoke to her, "Think of how you just reacted when I asked you to take away my soul. Can you imagine how that news would affect Buffy and Giles? After everything that they've both been through--after everything I've put them through?"

"But Angel--"

"No 'buts', Willow. I'm not going to change my mind on this. Only you can be involved."

"What do you mean 'on this'?" Willow countered, "You seem to have everything all worked out anyway! All you need is some sort of henchman that's not gonna ask questions. And if you involve Buffy or Giles, they'll ask questions--or even get hurt." Suddenly a new look of understanding came into her eyes, but it scared Angel more than her outraged refusal.

"That's it, isn't it?" she asked accusingly, "That's why you came here! Oh, I can't believe I'm so stupid!" she slapped her forehead in exasperation.

"Willow, I have no idea what you're talking about," Angel told her honestly, his confusion evident in his voice.

"You expect me to believe that? That's why you came to me. Because if you went to Buffy--or Giles, who's just as capable of doing this spell--then they could get hurt. And no, we wouldn't want that, would we? So you decide to come to good old dependable Willow! You know she'll do the spell because she's so weak-willed. And if Angelus just happens to hurt her, well then who cares! Certainly not you, and certainly not anyone else!"

Angel was shocked at the depth of bitterness in the young woman's voice. Obviously a lot had happened since he'd left Sunnydale--a lot that he wasn't aware of. "Willow, I would never do something like that," he tried to reason with her.

"Oh, sure you wouldn't," she retorted, "you're all alike."

"No, Willow. I'm serious. I came to you because you're capable of doing the spell--more so than Giles--and because I figured you'd be the easiest to persuade, yes, but most importantly because you're the one that I trust most."

His words, and the conviction behind them, brought Willow back to her senses, as her tear-brimmed eyes quickly sought out Angel's sincere ones. "You mean that?" she whispered.

"Yes, Willow," Angel assured her, "I mean that."

"I'm sorry," Willow apologized, feeling horrible that she had accused him of being so callous.

"It's okay," Angel told her, "so we agree then--not to tell Buffy?"

"No! We don't agree!" Willow's fire was suddenly re-fueled. "She has a right to know."

"And she also has the right to a happy life," Angel countered.

"She *is* happy," Willow informed him.

"My point exactly," Angel stated, "how often do things go right for her? That boy that she was talking to last time I was here--they're together now, aren't they?"

"Well, yes, but--"

"And the last thing that Buffy needs is for her relationship to go south because of me re-appearing. Without my soul, no less. And then she would be forced to give away her identity or break things off-lose her chance at happiness."

"But you see!" Willow perked up slightly, "that's just the thing! Riley already knows about everything!"

"What?" Angel asked, confused, "she told him?"

"Well, yeah. But after she found out that he already knew about all of the vampires and demons and things that go bump in the night in Sunnydale."

"Wait, I'm confused," Angel put up his hands as if to block off this unwelcome information.

Willow sighed and explained the story of the Initiative to Angel, touching only briefly on Buffy and Riley's relationship, and explaining about the implant they put in Spike.

When she was finished getting Angel caught up, she noticed that he was looking at her with a mixed gaze of confusion, disbelief, and utter amazement. "I see," was all he could manage to say at that point.

"So then, it's okay if we tell Buffy, right?" Willow inquired, hoping that she had finally scored a point.

"Well...no!" Angel shook himself out of picturing Spike unable to hurt anyone. That he'd have to see for himself later. "We still can't tell her."

"Now what?" Willow yelled at him, infuriated.

"The issue here is still her happiness. And she can't have that if she knows that I'm going to lose my soul at any moment."

"She'll find out anyway!"

"Not if everything goes according to plan."

"What plan? I mean, how do we even know that Angelus will kill Jaufien? I mean, if he's supposedly this great, evil vampire, and Angelus' mentor, why would he kill him? I'd think that they'd hook up together again and destroy the world."

"That's not going to happen," Angel told her.

"And why not?" she questioned.

"Because..." Angel trailed off, wondering whether or not he should tell Willow.

"You said you trusted me," Willow reminded him.

"And I do," Angel replied, "Jaufien taught me a little too well. In the years right before I was cursed, I was planning on...let's just say...usurping Jaufien."

"A double-cross?"

"Yeah. I'm hoping that the demon still feels the same way. That when I lose my soul, I'll pick up where I left off."

"And if that doesn't happen?" Willow questioned, "then what?"

"The spell that I found," Angel explained, "also calls for a binding. We can bind the demon to a certain place--a place that he'll have to return to, no matter what--and you can re-curse me there. If I haven't killed Jaufien by a certain time, it's what we'll have to do. We can't take any chances."

"So then what if Angelus doesn't kill him? And I re-curse you? Then what? He'll still be out on the loose?"

"Then we'll have to come up with some other plan. Then, maybe, we'll tell Buffy and the others."

After a long pause, Willow spoke up, "Okay. Assuming I go along with this--and I haven't said I will yet, but assuming I do--what'll I tell Buffy and the others? About where I'm going? I'm assuming we'll be doing this in LA?"

"Yeah. Just tell them as much truth as you can. Tell them that you're coming to LA to help me out with a case, just don't tell them the specifics."

"And if they ask?"

"Say it has to do with computers or something. You're supposed to be the one with the brains, remember?" he teased her.

"Well, seems to me that you're about to beat me out in that department. I mean, look at you. You've got everything all worked out nice and neat. With ribbons and everything," Willow tried to joke back nervously.

"So then you'll help me?" Angel asked, searching Willow's eyes for any hint as to what she was thinking. Green eyes meeting brown, Willow stared back at him, at his sincerity most of all, before she let her answer resound throughout the silent room with a determined finality.

End Part 2

Los Angeles

Willow rolled over on the bed and stretched out her arms in a final attempt to remove all vestiges of sleep from her mind. A part of her still couldn't believe that she had agreed to Angel's scheme, but what could she say? In an almost warped way, it made sense.

She and Angel had driven back to LA that very night, after quickly telling Giles and Xander--Buffy was nowhere to be found--where she was headed. Although the two of them weren't that ecstatic that she had decided to go on such short notice to LA, they didn't hound her with questions about the circumstances--which is exactly what she had been afraid of--especially from Xander.

The two of them had arrived in LA fairly early in the morning, and Willow was exhausted, so Angel offered her the use of his bed while he slept upstairs. She had refused him at first, but now, snuggling into the smooth satin bed sheets, she was glad she finally gave in. This was getting too comfortable.

Taking a deep breath, Willow counted to three and forced herself out of the bed. She had a long day ahead of her, and the earlier they got started the better.

She just hoped everything would go according to plan.

***

It was well into the afternoon by the time Willow made her way downstairs. The Angel Investigations Office was unnaturally silent as Willow entered the room--considering that both Doyle and Cordelia were seated across from each other.

"Hey," Willow announced her entrance. It had been a long time since she had seen or spoken to Cordelia--when she and Angel arrived in LA the night before, both Cordelia and Doyle had already left for home--and seeing as how she had never met Doyle before, the situation wasn't lightened any. "So where's Angel?"

"He went out ta get some supplies for the spell yer supposed ta be doin' tonight," Doyle's friendly voice resonated about the room, "by the way--I'm Doyle. But, I'm sure ya figured that one out already," he added as an afterthought, standing up and extending his hand.

"Yeah," Willow replied a bit shyly, taking his hand, "and I'm Willow--just to complete the 'formal introduction' thing."

"Right," Doyle answered her, looking back and forth between the two women in the room and wondering why he felt suddenly out of place.

"So you said that Angel was out getting supplies?" Willow asked after catching Cordelia's eye for a moment.

"Yeah," Doyle found himself answering again, "he wants everything ta go smoothly, ya know? Can't really blame him."

"It's just that, well, its daylight," Willow finally voiced her thoughts aloud.

"Oh, well you know," Cordelia finally spoke up, "as long as there's no direct sunlight he's fine--and Angel's learned really well how to avoid the sunlight since he's been here in LA with us."

"I see," Willow responded, looking the former cheerleader in the eye, "so how have you been?"

"Me? I've been great. I'm just sort of working here between acting gigs and all--I mean, I never imagined that I'd be getting so many offers when I first moved out here--it's all a little crazy sometimes."

"So then your acting is going well?"

"Oh, yeah! It's fantastic."

"That's great," Willow told her sincerely, but still feeling awkward. "Ya know," Doyle breached the brief period of unease that had just risen, "I'm goin' ta get something ta eat. Either of ya want anything?"

"No thanks," came the nearly simultaneous reply.

"Okay. Then I'll be back in a few minutes," Doyle told them as he ducked out the door. It was obvious to him that the two of them had something or another in their past, and it was better that he leave them alone to work it out before Angel came back prepared to do the spell.

As the door banged closed, Willow and Cordelia found themselves staring at each other in silence, neither sure of what to say to the other.

"So how's everyone in Sunnydale?" Cordelia decided to ask the general question, "'cause Oz was here a few months back and all..." she trailed off uncertainly at the expression that had crossed the redhead's face, "did I say something I wasn't supposed to?"

"No," Willow answered her, "it's just that Oz and I broke up, and it's still sort of fresh."

"Oh, is that all?" Cordelia breathed a sigh of relief, "'cause you know, for a moment there, I thought he was dead or something."

Willow cleared her throat at that comment before she replied, "Uh, no. Not dead--just left town."

"To think?" Cordelia asked, almost feeling bad for the girl.

"Yeah. To 'think.'"

"Men can be really dense sometimes, you know?" Cordelia stated, seating herself back down onto her chair.

"Yep," Willow concurred, following her lead, "dense. And chicken."

"Speaking of which," Cordelia leaned forward suddenly, "how's Xander? Not that I care or anything, but, you know."

"Xander is good," Willow told her honestly, "he's doing well."

"Really? Is he seeing anyone?"

"Um, well, I wouldn't really call it 'seeing.' He is sort of 'with,' but--"

"Who?"

"Um...Anya."

"Anya? As in the vengeance demon?" Cordelia nearly burst out laughing.

"Go figure," Willow threw up her hands in mock exasperation, "you know Xander and demons."

"Oh, don't I ever!" Cordelia exclaimed. After a slight pause, she continued, "But it's not like I care. I mean, I am *so* over him."

"Well, that's good," Willow wasn't sure what to say, "you're moving on with your life and doing really well. That's good."

"Well, maybe I do care a little," Cordelia admitted, not quite hearing what Willow had just said, "I mean--Xander was special." After looking up and catching Willow's gaze, she added, "but I *am* over him."

"Right," Willow stated, "over. Good."

"Great," Cordelia nodded her head in reply. After another slight pause, she asked, "So what happened with Oz?"

Willow's eyes flew to meet the other girl's questioning gaze as she realized for the first time that this actually gave them something in common. "He, uh," Willow cleared her throat, "slept with another w...werewolf--who was also human--a woman."

Cordelia's mouth formed a slight "oh" as she realized what Willow's jagged sentence was saying, then responded, "It hurts, doesn't it?"

"Yeah," Willow answered her honestly, truly understanding for the first time how Cordelia must have felt that night-and how Cordelia must feel now, towards her. Willow didn't know whether or not she could have been this civil if it was Verucca sitting in front of her. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

Cordelia was silent for a moment, then said, "Hey, no sweat. We've all moved on." Leaning forward slightly, she unnecessarily dropped her voice a notch and asked Willow, "Tell me something...what do you think of Doyle?"

"Doyle?" Willow repeated. Then realizing the meaning behind that question, "Oh! Doyle! What I think of him? He seems...nice."

"See! That's it exactly!" Cordelia exclaimed, "he's nice! What is up with me and...nice?"

"Well, he's substantive. That's always a good thing."

"Yeah, put dirt poor isn't."

"You like him?" Willow finally stated the obvious.

"He's just got this thing, you know? He makes me smile," Cordelia told her.

Willow practically grinned from ear to ear. Never in a million years would she have expected herself to be sitting across from Cordelia and dishing about guys. She couldn't help but note the irony of if all.

"Have you told him?" Willow, too, leaned in, taking up the role of the inquisitive confidant.

"What am I nuts?" Cordelia exclaimed, "I am so not gonna get myself involved with him! Hello? Have we forgotten already? The fiasco that was Xander?"

"Well, you don't know that the same thing is gonna happen."

"He's got an ex-wife living here in LA now."

"Oh."

"M-hm. 'Oh' is exactly right. And I don't even know how he feels about that."

"Ask him."

"Ask him--yea, like that's gonna work. Ask him!" Cordelia huffed, leaning back against the chair. "Ask him, huh?" she shot forward suddenly again, "you think that'll work?"

The door suddenly banged open and Doyle entered almost breathlessly, "Angel's on his way back. He's got the supplies. Ya ready ta do the spell?"

Willow looked up in surprise--for a moment, she had practically forgotten about the inevitable doom to come. "Yeah," Willow stood up, unconsciously straightening her clothes, "ready. Um, the book is right here." She reached over to the bag that was lying against the desk and pulled out an old leather covered book that looked as if it was going to fall apart at any second. Holding it up, she waved it slightly in the air as if to non-verbally reinforce her preparation.

"Good," Doyle nodded, just as Angel entered the room from a back entrance.

"Everything's set," he announced as he set the bag down on the table. His clothes were rumpled and Willow noted that he looked as if he hadn't gotten a wink of sleep the night before. This had to have been one of the hardest decisions of his unnaturally long life, and Willow's heart went out to him.

"You guys ready?" he asked them, his voice hoarse from anticipation.

The other inhabitants of the room could only exchange mute glances with each other in reply.

End Part 3

"Yeah, Angel," Willow finally spoke, "we're about as ready as can be."

Angel looked around at the faces of his friends and nodded his head. "Okay," he said, as if to calm his nerves. "We all know the plan? 'Cause, I'll understand if you guys want to go over it again--it's a bit complicated."

"You become evil, kill the bad guy, then we make you good again?" Cordelia responded, summing up the extremely radical actions in a nutshell, "real complicated."

"Look, man," Doyle said, "none of us are sure if this plan is even goin' ta work--it's all too...weird."

"I know," Angel turned to Doyle and placed his hand on his shoulder. "And I have a favor to ask of you--all of you," he looked up to make eye contact with both Willow and Cordelia as well. "If anything goes wrong...I need you guys to stake me," he decided to be as blunt as possible.

"What?" Willow exclaimed, "are you insane?"

"No; I'm careful. If something goes wrong, the last thing we need is for my evil self to be loose on the streets. Swear to me, all of you, that if something happens that can't be stopped or controlled or anything--swear to me that you'll kill me."

"Hey, man," Doyle grasped Angel's shoulder to get his attention, "we'll do what we can. But this negative thinkin' isn't doin' any one of us a bit o' good. Things'll be all right."

"I hope," Angel replied, "I just hope."

"Doyle's right, Angel," Willow spoke, "we have to think positive."

"Did you get a chance to read over the spell?" Angel asked her, hoping in part to change the subject.

"Yeah," Willow held up the book once more as if to prove her point, "it's all basically cut-and-dry."

"Good. And the binding spell?" he asked

"Well, I sort of found a way to incorporate the two of them together--less mess, you know?"

"Are you sure it'll work?" Angel questioned, not wanting anything to go wrong.

"There's no real reason why it shouldn't," Willow offered hopefully.

"Like that's real comforting," Cordelia huffed, crossing her arms over her chest.

"It's worth a shot," Doyle backed Willow up, "unless ya want Angelus sittin' here without any restraints on 'im until we can get the bindin' spell in place. If ya ask me, that's not a real bright idea, especially if yer as crafty as all the books say."

"You're probably right," Angel exhaled unnecessarily, "it's just weird--for the first time in over 240 years--"

"--Ya don't quite know if what yer doin' is for the best," Doyle finished for him, knowing too well the results of making the wrong choices.

Angel just looked grimly at Doyle in reply. Cordelia sighed. Willow cleared her throat. "Maybe we should start getting everything ready," she began, "it'll be dark in about an hour."

Three heads nodded almost simultaneously in agreement.

***

Nearly two hours later, the room was practically unrecognizable. All the windows had been firmly shut and covered, and the door barred solidly. The furniture had been moved to the far ends of the room, leaving plenty of empty space in the middle of the room. A protection circle had already been drawn, one big enough to allow plenty of room for Willow, Cordelia, and Doyle--and fortified securely against Angel. Willow had just finished lighting the final candle and stick of jasmine-scented incense--that had always helped her focus her mind more easily--while Angel finished mixing the potion that would be emptied onto the floor for the binding spell. The four of them had agreed that the best place to bind Angelus to was the office.

Doyle stood up from where he had been hunched over the protection circle on the floor, making sure the powder covered every section so there was no way Angelus could get to any of them. "We done yet?" he asked, massaging his back, "if I have ta stay in that position any longer, I'll be walkin' crooked permanently."

"We're done," Willow reassured him, stretching her arms as well. She had no idea this much work went into preparing a spell of this magnitude--especially when everyone in the room was an amateur.

"Oh, thank god!" Cordelia exclaimed from where she had just finished crushing the invocation pebbles that were to be mixed into the potion, "my hand is gonna have red welts all over it tomorrow!"

"Put them in here," Angel directed her, bringing the open bottle over to her. Cordelia scooped the powdery residue into her hands, then emptied it into the bottle, jumping back slightly as the materials reacted.

Angel stared at the bluish liquid for a moment, then held the bottle up to his lips and swallowed. Grimacing, he capped the remaining contents of the bottle quickly and looked up, "We're all set," he stated the obvious.

The occupants of the room all exchanged glances with each other, but no one made any attempt at speaking. The sheer absurdity of this plan came to the forefronts of all their minds as they wondered what the next day would bring. This wasn't the Hellmouth, that was for sure, but that didn't mean that their plan wouldn't go awry.

"You guys had better get into the circle," Angel found himself breaking the silence once more, "and take this." He handed an Orb of Thessaluh to Willow, who reached out gingerly to accept it. It was almost as if his soul was already inside of it.

"Okay then," she couldn't think of anything else to say--any new bright idea that might save them all from what was seeming more and more like suicide.

Cordelia was the first to enter the circle, waiting expectantly for the others to follow, "We doing this or what?" she goaded, "I don't have all night."

Doyle looked at her almost gratefully before picking up the potion and following her lead. Willow remained outside, looking at Angel. Her mind replayed the events the last time Angelus was present, and her heart hammered fearfully in her chest. She couldn't shake the feeling that something would go wrong.

"You should get inside, too," Angel told her.

"I know. I just--can't help remembering..."

Angel winced visibly and nodded his head in understanding. "I know," was all he could manage to say. Willow smiled up at him suddenly and stepped forward, drawing him into her embrace. "Just in case," she whispered into his ear, "you're a great friend. And I trust you, too."

Angel smiled, pulling her a bit more tightly against him. "Thanks," he told her as he released her. Willow nodded her head and stepped back into the circle, the Orb in one hand and her spell book in the other.

Angel took his cue and stepped back a few feet, looking at his friends huddled together in their protective circle-protected against him. He swallowed down the rush of guilt that threatened to rise in him as he faced them, and reminded himself that this was the only way. And that this was his conscious decision. If anything went wrong, it would be on his head.

He motioned for Willow to begin, and her eyes immediately dropped down to her spell book. She couldn't look at him--not now. Her voice quavered a bit as she spoke the words: "Soul of Truth, of Kind, of Hope--from your dwelling, I call you forth."

The Orb began to glow slightly as Angel clutched his still heart. His face contorted slightly in pain, and Cordelia turned her head away, gazing instead at the far wall.

"And until the time such as I decree," Willow continued, holding up the Orb, "here you shall rest, of your body free."

Angel cried out in pain as he collapsed to his knees, and the Orb warmed suddenly in Willow's hand. The light emanating from it grew brighter, nearly blinding everyone in the room. The powder spread around the protection circle began to smoke slightly, as the barriers went up effectively into place. Doyle's gaze met the floor.

"So that the demon that now resides may act in guidance of the Light," Willow placed the Orb gently on the ground, slightly behind her and out of harm's way. She didn't want to risk anything happening to it. Grabbing the spell book with both hands, she continued to chant, the energy being pulled from her in waves.

"Roam he will, unchallenged and free until the time which I've decreed." A snarl tore itself from Angelus' lips as he gazed with golden eyes at the three humans before him. Only Willow's eyes were fixated upon him.

The demon stood up slowly, almost sensually, as he locked his eyes onto Willow. He grinned cruelly, the knowing gleam in his eyes reminding her that she couldn't stay in the circle forever.

A sudden stab of fear ran through Willow as a dozen images of what could happen ran through her mind. Dropping the spell book, she reached over and snatched the potion bottle from Doyle's hand--the potion that Angel drank and would bind the demon to this room.

Willow held the bottle to her lips and gulped down the rest of the potion, emptying the bottle. "But unto my will shall he remain--bound to me by iron chain!" What energy that was left in the young witch was suddenly and almost violently jerked from her, as she collapsed onto the floor.

Both Doyle and Cordelia whirled themselves around to face the young woman who had just strayed dangerously from the initial spell. Neither had expected that she would ever bind Angelus to herself.

A wild laughter came from the demon as he, too, realized what had just happened. A flash of light followed as Angelus was knocked back into the wall, but the grin had not left his face. Once the smoke died down, Willow, with Doyle's help, stood up slowly, her eyes fixated on Angelus. She clutched her chest as the pain began to subside and some of her energy returned.

Angelus merely smirked in return, clapping his hands and applauding her fatal mistake. "What a turn of events!" he called out, "and here I thought I would be forever bound to my PI office. Oh, I do love last minute adventures."

"Shut up," Willow hissed, "you can't do anything here, so you might as well get out."

"And kill Jaufien?" Angelus asked her, his face practically beaming, "We'll see, won't we. Oh, we'll definitely see."

Willow stood up straighter as she looked him in the eye. She had never been more frightened or confused in her life. "Yeah. We'll see."

Angelus' laughter was her only reply as he bowed slightly and sauntered out of the office.

End Part 4

"Here ya go," Doyle offered Willow a glass of water, "ya sure ya don't want any scotch or whiskey or somethin' instead? I guarantee it'll make ya feel a whole lot better'n--"

"No thanks, Doyle," Willow cut him off, "I'm not too big on drinking--artificially induced perpetual fear and all that."

"Yer jokin', right? Afraid o' drinkin'? I never thought I'd see the day," Doyle puzzled to himself.

"There was this whole experience in Sunnydale with beer that, well, let's just say it wasn't pretty," Willow attempted at explaining.

"Well, then we can avoid beer--never much cared for the stuff meself..." Doyle offered a solution to what was, to him, probably the most pressing problem at the moment. At the expression on Willow's face, however, he figured that his solution was no match for the workings of the Hellmouth, and promptly corrected himself.

"Or not. Too bad, I guess," he told the girl, who was now seated on the chair by the desk, recovering her strength. Just moments after Angelus left, she had collapsed again, and Doyle and Cordelia had moved her to the chair so she could rest. The spell had obviously taken a lot out of her. Willow smiled up at him in gratefulness, whether it was for the sympathy or the water, he wasn't sure.

"What the hell were you thinking?" Cordelia stormed back into the room, surprising the two--she had gone to put up the candles before they were forced to add "fire" to their apparently growing list of things that could go wrong.

"What do you mean 'what was I thinking'?" Willow asked, slightly irritated, as her defenses automatically went up into place.

"Hello? Don't tell me you're suffering from both insanity and amnesia. The binding spell!"

"Oh, that," Willow nodded her head, taking another sip of water, and letting her guard down. She didn't want it to seem as if it wasn't an important thing, but she didn't have the strength at the time to explain her actions to them--not when she couldn't even explain them to herself. "I'm not sure."

"You're not sure?" Cordelia burst out, "you just bound Angelus--evil demon guy--to yourself, and he saw it! He's gonna come kill you now, and you're not sure?!"

"Gee, I didn't think you cared," Willow grinned wryly up at the brunette.

"I don't!" she snapped after a brief, hesitant pause, "at least...not about *you.* He could come and try to kill *me* in order to get to you!"

Willow was silent, and Doyle took the opportunity to play "good cop." "Listen, Willow," he sat on the edge of the desk, facing her. "I think what Cordy's tryin' ta say is that, if memory serves, we were supposed ta bind Angelus ta the office. And when you...changed tactics?--it threw us off."

Willow sighed and put the cup down on the desk, then stood up and began pacing. "I know, I know. I'm sorry. It's just that, it wasn't a planned--or even completely thought out--action. I don't know what happened. It was almost like that night when I re-cursed Angelus: something--powerful--went through me, and I couldn't stop it."

"Ya were the one that re-cursed Angelus?" Doyle asked, standing up in shock, "yer more powerful than I thought."

Willow snorted, "If I could just get my spells to go right. I remember doing the spell--the one we did tonight--and looking at Angelus--straight in the eyes--and it was like he was looking right *through* me. I mean, he knew our plans--he knew that we would be binding him to the office, and that means he knew we would be here, preparing the spell to re-curse him. What would keep him from...let's just say...burning the place down--with *us* inside? What would keep him from killing all three of us?"

Both Doyle and Cordelia were silent.

"And right after I thought that," Willow continued, "I started thinking of some other place to bind him--or some person, just something that he wouldn't expect--and the next think I know, I'm drinking down the potion and binding him to myself."

"Ya had the time ta think through all o' that in a matter o' seconds?" Doyle finally responded, flashing a slight grin that Willow couldn't help but return.

Sighing audibly, Doyle continued seriously, "I'm not sure what this means. We were positive that bindin' Angelus ta the office would make him come back here, whether he wanted ta or not, and it's a safe bet that now he'll be drawn ta ya, instead. But this office isn't a livin' thing--you are. What that means, I don't know."

Willow's startled green eyes met Doyle's as she realized what he was implying. She hadn't even thought about that aspect. Between being completely confused and utterly drained of energy, Willow's brain refused to consider the ramifications of what she had just done.

"Are you saying that Willow might have some sort of control over Angelus?" Cordelia asked, stepping forward and voicing the thoughts of the three occupants of the room.

Her question was met with unsure gazes.

***

To say the least, Angelus was angry. He snarled as he threw the dead body of some nameless, faceless young victim onto the ground--just one of hundreds. Leaning for a moment against the brick wall of the alleyway--the same alley in which his souled counter-part and Jaufien had met just days ago--Angelus gazed out from the shadows at the passing cars on the streets, at the helpless pedestrians, at the city that lay before him like an offering--open to his taking. Los Angeles may not be the Hellmouth, but it had definite potential-potential he intended to utilize to the fullest. And he alone.

His thoughts automatically drifted back to the spell performed on him--the spell that brought him back--and the reason behind the spell: Jaufien. Angel had been right about one thing in his convoluted plan: Angelus had fully intended to kill Jaufien and take his place. But now, knowing that doing that would have him fall right into Angel's trap, he re-considered.

Angelus sighed. It would have been easier if everything had gone according to plan, but there was a factor he hadn't considered--the witch. She had gone and thrown a wrench into everything. There was no way he was going to give up this body--not again. But he couldn't underestimate her. She had ruined things the first time, and she was on the verge of doing it again.

Angelus slammed his fist into the brick wall, picturing her innocent face staring back at him in fear. He could have just killed her and been done with it--no one left to do the spell--but if he was bound to her, would that kill him, too? He had a lot of questions that he intended to make the witch answer, but that would have to wait. He had a more pressing issue on him mind.

Jaufien.

To kill or not to kill--now there was a question. His pride rebelled at the fact that he would play into Angel's trap, and yet he couldn't pass up this unexpected opportunity. The more defined he had become as a vampire--by Jaufien's side--the more he had resented his elder and the power that he held over him.

There was a time that Angelus could remember all too well--a time when he would have laid down his un-life for Jaufien--a vampire who wasn't even his sire. As a fledgling, he had cared for his mentor-continued to care for him, even when Darla re-entered his life. But with the emergence of his sire, a new spirit rose in him. One of rebellion and hatred. Darla had taught him to hate and to destroy, merely for the end result. Jaufien had taught him to kill and to maim, for the fun, for the challenge. And the latter was what he had most enjoyed. Darla, however, had never appreciated the fact that her childe had been schooled by Jaufien.

As a result, Angelus was filled with conflicting loyalties--and he grew to resent both his sire and his mentor. He was his own demon, and he had decided that he didn't need either of them. He had learned well from both Jaufien and Darla, and had developed his own style--a style that worked, a style that had wreaked havoc for centuries.

But before he could free himself from the both of them for good, the damn gypsies had cursed him. He had to applaud Angel for killing Darla for him, but now it was his time to kill Jaufien as well. And put an end to the past once and for all.

Pride dueled with resentment for dominance inside the demon, and after a moment, Angelus decided what it was he would do.

Resentment had won out.

***

The wind was blowing only slightly as Angelus approached the obscure building situated on the outskirts of town. Its dilapidated structure was sure to turn away any curious visitors that the legends about the haunting of the building had not already done.

Believed to be an old mission dating back to the 1800's, the building stood in an almost perverse elegance--as if it remained only to shun the modern world and serve as a monument to the remnants of the past that still thrive.

The building itself was about the size of a private airplane hangar, but the grounds around it made it look much larger. There were a few, scattered trees around the premises, and what windows there were had been boarded up, obviously long before Jaufien arrived. The wood was old and rotting, and the moonlight cast eerie shadows in all directions.

Angelus stopped for a moment to stare at the foreboding entrance, and he knew instantly that his "informant" had been right. This was just the type of place Jaufien would select as a base to hatch whatever plan he had in mind.

Placing the small wooden stick he had found on the streets of the city in his coat pocket, Angelus entered the building cautiously. To his surprise, there was only one, giant room inside the building. There were doors on opposite sides of the room, but whether they led to other rooms or outside, Angelus couldn't tell.

Jaufien was seated directly in front of him, his back facing Angelus, hunched over what appeared to be some sort of journal. Angelus crept cautiously closer, making certain not to make a sound. Stopping just a hair's breadth from Jaufien, Angelus retrieved the wood and poised it directly over the elder vampire. He would not take the risk of engaging the vampire in a duel--chivalry be damned. After all, honor had never been a quality anyone had ascribed to him.

"Do you plan on standing over my shoulder the entire night?" Jaufien's voice startled Angelus. He quickly put the wood back into his pocket and replied casually, in an attempt to cover his mix of anger and disappointment, "Just wondering how long it'd take you to figure out I was here," he lied, "how did you know I was here?"

Jaufien sighed, closing the book he was reading, and stood to face Angelus. "I always know when you're around, Angelus," he smiled, "all those years together--you have an energy that can't be concealed." For a moment, Angelus was taken aback by the sheer emotion radiating from those cruel, usually empty eyes. He had forgotten what it was like to journey with this vampire.

"Should I take that as a compliment?" he asked after regaining his wits.

"Of course. Need I ask how you found me? I had expected to get some privacy in this place," Jaufien explained, looking around at the sinister surroundings.

"My city, remember?" Angelus smirked as he one-upped Jaufien, "besides, when a master vampire suddenly shows up in a demon-infested city like this one, they tend to sit up and take notice."

"I see," Jaufien looked at Angelus approvingly, "well I suppose it wouldn't hurt to divulge a little information a bit early."

"About your mysterious plan to destroy LA?" Angelus reminded him of their earlier encounter. Or at least, Jaufien's encounter with Angel.

"Yes," Jaufien flipped open the book in his hands to a marked page, "take a look," he handed the journal over to Angelus, who accepted it with a bit of awe. Skimming over the page briefly, he looked up in shock, "I thought that this was--"

"--a myth?" Jaufien finished for him, "since when is anything not rooted in fact? What do you think?"

Angelus was silent for a moment as he puzzled over the page, then answered, "I think it's doable...with the right help, that is."

"Meaning you?" Jaufien asked almost coyly.

"Isn't that what you had in mind since day one?" Angelus countered.

"Obviously," Jaufien took the book from Angelus and set it down gently onto the table to his right. "Interested enough to help?"

"Obviously," Angelus replied, pulling out the wooden stick he had hastily deposited in his pocket before, "oh, and uh, for starters--next time you select a hideaway, make sure there aren't any dangerous weapons lying around."

With that, he threw the wood onto the floor and pulled Jaufien into a hug.

End Part 5

Willow was nervous. She paced back and forth across the office, or at least the places she could. Exactly 24 had passed since she had taken Angel's soul, and according to the plan, Angelus would be returning to the office sometime tonight. But this wasn't the plan. And Angelus would supposedly be returning to her.

Willow stopped and looked around at the settings, eerily reminiscent of that night so long ago when she had first attempted to re-curse Angel--when she had tried and failed. The materials for the spell were all in place, and the Orb, glowing steadily, was situated delicately out of harm's way. All they needed now was Angelus.

"Still wearin' a hole in the floor?" Doyle's cheery voice forced its way into Willow's gloomy thoughts. He stopped and surveyed the surroundings yet again, much as Willow had done just moments earlier. Noticing his glance, Willow admonished, "You're just as worried as I am."

"Maybe, but I'm not the one that's got an evil demon bound ta me."

"I can fix that if you'd like," Willow offered him a taste of her own predicament jokingly.

"No, no," Doyle held up his hands in protest, "I like bein' a free agent--it was bad enough bein' bound ta a wife, let alone someone like Angelus." Willow laughed for the first time that evening.

"Sorry I'm late!" Cordelia called as she rushed into the office, "am I late?" There was an almost hopeful tone in her voice, and Willow couldn't blame her.

"Actually, yer right on time," Doyle informed her, crushing her hopes. "Oh," Cordelia deposited her purse and coat, "well, we ready or what?"

"As can be," Willow stated without conviction.

"Good," Cordelia nodded her head as she lapsed into silence. She too, took in her surroundings--for the first time that evening, but certainly not for the first time. Willow knew from the look that had passed over her face that she, too, was remembering Sunnydale. Whether those memories were good or bad, she couldn't say.

Doyle cleared his throat and caught the attention of the two women who had been simultaneously drawn into the past. "I'm suddenly feelin' like the odd man out. Sunnydale must have been one hell of a place."

"It is."

"It was."

Doyle was surprised by the startling differences in the tones of the girls' voices. Wistful versus pejorative. Added to what Angel had told him, Doyle silently prayed to whatever Powers were listening that he would never have to step foot on the Hellmouth.

"I looked up some info on the binding spell," Willow broke in suddenly.

"Yeah?" Doyle asked interestedly, glad for any sort of change in subject--he didn't do the past too well.

"Yeah," Willow was less enthusiastic, "there was nothing."

"What do you mean?" Cordelia asked, unsure of the redhead's statement.

"I mean there was nothing. There was no spell--in any of the relevant books Angel has--and he's got a lot of them--that modeled this one."

"You're kidding, right?" Cordelia raised a quizzical eyebrow, "I would think that this sort of spell would be done all the time--you know, the whole 'obey my will!' sort of thing."

"Well, it is. In fact, I did one of those back in Sunnydale--"

"You what?" Cordelia interrupted, "what happened?"

Willow rubbed her head and replied, "Utter chaos. Spike and Buffy chaos."

"Oh," Cordelia nodded her head in tired understanding, "they practically killed each other again?"

"No...they almost got married."

At the bug-eyed expressions on both Doyle and Cordelia's faces, Willow explained the situation as quickly as she could, managing to edit out the parts about being offered a job as a vengeance demon. "But my original point was," Willow continued, "I've done that sort of spell before--but that and this are different. This is more...I don't know..."

"Unknown territory?" Doyle offered her the words.

"Exactly! This spell actually *connects* two people...er, vampire...whatever! This isn't a simple 'do what I want' spell. I don't know what this spell does...what its side effects are...how to reverse it...hell, I don't even know where it *came* from! It wasn't listed in any of the books. I originally thought that maybe I had read it somewhere, and that's how I knew how to chant it and what to do, but now... I just don't know."

"Then I suggest you find out," a cruel, emotionless voice threatened from the doorway, "tell me, Willow, am I right on time for my re-cursing?"

Angelus' lips were curled in a vicious smile, and despite the purely malevolent gleam in his eyes, the sight of him, standing in his black trademark leather pants and overcoat, sent an involuntary shudder through Willow.

"Angelus," Doyle spoke the name aloud, testing it. He'd heard stories, read journals, but never had the misfortune of seeing him face-to-face-back in the present. He didn't like it.

"Doyle," Angelus mocked him, "I don't think we've had the pleasure of meeting before. I'm Angelus-and this will be the last face you see before you die."

"Probably," Doyle nodded his head in agreement, to Angelus' well-concealed surprise, "but it won't be ya behind that face--it'll be Angel."

"You think so?" Angelus countered, sauntering further into the room and closing the door behind him, "is that because you intend to re-curse me now that Jaufien is dust?"

"You killed Jaufien?" Willow exclaimed, taking a small step forward.

"Come now. Can Angel be wrong *all* of the time?" Angelus grinned at her. There was a look in his eyes that made Willow wonder at the real meaning behind his statement. However, she opted to remain silent, so Angelus continued, "And Willow. Long time, no see, hm? These are certainly very different circumstances from the last time we met."

"Different circumstances, maybe. But same results," Willow tried to put on her best brave face.

"That's right," Angelus began to pace around the room slowly, gazing at the different arrangements, as if seeing them for the first time, "I never did get to...thank you...for giving me back my soul. And, come to think of it, neither did Angel, did he? No; he just went along his merry way with the Slayer and never bothered to give you one word of thanks. But then, when he needed you, he had no qualms about asking you to risk you life, did he? And you just went along with it--the worst mistake of your shortened life. Talk about being a doormat."

"I am *not* a doormat," Willow stated firmly, trying desperately to keep her emotions in check. She reminded herself over and over again that this was a soul-less demon who had probably never spoken a word of truth in his entire un-life. He was just trying to hurt her. But after everything that had happened, especially with Oz, hurting her wasn't that hard to do--her self-confidence had already been shattered. And Willow began wondering if Angelus was just being bluntly honest.

"Nothing else to say?" Angelus asked her sweetly, stepping closer to her, "I'm disappointed. But don't worry--I'm sure you'll gain a spine sooner or later."

Willow, in anger, and without thinking, backhanded Angelus across the face. The slap left the demon unfazed, and he just grinned at the fuming redhead, "I guess you do have some guts after all. Pity they won't stay inside of you much longer."

Cordelia had been watching the entire exchange silently for many minutes. A part of her was too frozen in fear to say or do anything, and the other part of her was livid at what the demon was saying to Willow. They had never been best friends--heck, they had never been *friends*, but Cordelia had always respected the shy redhead. Whether it was her ability to think quickly, or her computer savvy, or even her seemingly innocent little-sister-like appearance, she didn't know. She just knew that Willow was a good person who cared about Angel just as much as she did.

Finally deciding to make a move, Cordelia eyed the Orb wearily. If she could just get that into Willow's hands, they could begin the spell. And unfortunately, seeing as how Willow was a bit preoccupied at the moment, it was up to her. Inching cautiously step by step, Cordelia tried to position herself so that she would be at a straight line from the Orb and be able to make a quick, direct dash for it. Once in position, Cordelia took a deep breath and charged quickly for the Orb.

Unfortunately, Angelus was quicker.

Spotting the brunette's movements, the vampire moved with inhuman speed to intercept her. Grabbing her in his arms he spun her around so that her neck was exposed to him.

Willow and Doyle both whirled around as well, taken by surprise by the rapid shift in situations.

"Not a smart move, Cordy," Angelus tightened his hold on her, "as I recall, I never did get the chance to finish you off in the cemetery in Sunnydale." Thankfully, Willow noticed, his game face wasn't on.

"Let her go," Doyle commanded him, brandishing a stake from his back pocket. Angelus just laughed. "Going to keep your promise, are you?" he taunted, "Just remember, you kill me, you never get your precious Angel back."

Willow meanwhile, had realized what it was that Cordelia had been after, and chose that moment to make a grab for it. Racing across the short distance, she scooped the Orb into her hands and managed to deftly avoid Angelus' reach.

Sensing Willow's intentions, he had thrown Cordelia to the ground in an attempt to capture the witch, but she had evaded him.

Willow stopped at a short distance from the demon and turned to face him, holding the Orb protectively in her grip. Doyle had run to help Cordelia off the floor, and the two stood together a few feet to Willow's left. Angelus, too, stood where he was, keeping himself positioned so that he was facing all three of them, watching all three of them.

For a moment, no one moved, no one spoke, as they took in the situation. Every figure in that room had his life on the line, or in the case of the vampire, his demon.

And for a long while, no one dared to test the waters.

"What do you think you're going to do, witch?" Angelus finally broke the silence and growled at the nervous girl. He hated being on the defensive, especially to a couple of humans--and a half-breed.

"Fixing a mistake," Willow told him, "a really big mistake."

"Sometimes, things can't be cleaned up all that nice and neat," Angelus countered, eyeing the Orb dangerously.

"Yeah, we'll see about that!" Cordelia argued from behind Doyle's protective shoulder, "what are you waiting for? Do the darned spell!"

Willow took a deep breath and struggled to calm her nerves. A spell like this needed immense concentration, and that was something she couldn't muster with Angelus standing just a few feet away.

Taking a step back, she held the Orb in front of her, but kept her gaze fixated on Angelus. "Quod perditum est, invenietur!"

Angelus took a step forward, and Willow another step back, "Not dead nor not of the living. Spirits of the interregnum I call." Cordelia and Doyle watched on in anticipation, their hearts practically stopping at the tone in Willow's voice--there was no conviction. No power.

Angelus stopped his advancement, and Willow tried desperately to continue, "Let him know the pain of humanity, gods. Reach your wizened hands to me. Give me the sword..." Willow, too, faltered. She felt nothing. No power flowed through her, no energy was at her fingertips to harvest in any way.

Angelus grinned and lunged for the girl, knocking the Orb out of her hands. Doyle, seeing the action, launched himself forward and caught the Orb before it hit the ground, but Angelus was too preoccupied with Willow to notice.

He caught her in his grip and pulled her to him, holding her fragile neck in his punishing grip. "Not as powerful a witch as we thought, I guess. What's the matter? No enhancements to focus your power? No candles, no incense...no prior mediation?" He twisted her neck painfully to the side, and Willow cried out as she felt the bones near their breaking point.

"You're not a witch...you're a beginner. You can't do anything on your own," Angelus whispered into her ear, "and your time is up!" Angelus placed his hands on either side of her neck and prepared to twist it effectively when Doyle interrupted.

"That may be true," he stepped forward after handing the Orb to Cordelia, "but yer still bound ta her. That spell worked, we know fer sure. Ya kill her, ya risk killin' yerself. Are ya willin' ta risk that?"

Angelus paused, pondering Doyle's words. He had a point--he didn't know what this binding spell was all about, and until he did, he wasn't going to risk his life-not when he was finally free again.

Looking at Willow, he threatened, "He's got a point, you know. I guess you lucked out there." Angelus lowered his hands to grip Willow's wrists tightly, and he spoke softly into her ear--so that neither Doyle nor Cordelia could hear. "But you're not free of me yet. I'll be back for you...again and again and again...for as long as it takes to break you. And believe me when I tell you, I can think of a lot of worse fates that death. Most of which you'll experience."

Grinning mainly to himself, since Willow couldn't see his face, he concluded, "And Willow? I guarantee we'll have a lot of fun together." Inhaling her scent sharply, Angelus pushed the frightened redhead away from him, and after giving a final, sweeping glance over the room, he sauntered carelessly out.

End Part 6

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