The First Connection

Author: Lysa

Parts: 6 - 9 (End)

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Part 6

 We come to a crossroads. A landmark in the footnotes of this history. A point at which enemies and friends exchange roles. Where one demon fights to destroy the world while his kindred seeks to save it. And the Chosen One must destroy that which she has held most dear to her heart. Our Warrior will be lost to the confines of hell. Our Seer-to-be consigned to a future without him.
 

Playing with his sword, Angelus idly pointed it at the weaponless Slayer. Frightened, Buffy stared up at him as she pressed her back to the wall. “Now that's everything, huh? No weapons— No friends— No hope.”

Buffy closed her eyes, steeling herself for what was surely to come.

“Take all that away,” the vampire continued, “and what's left?”

Drawing his sword back, he thrust it directly at her face. With lightning-fast reflexes she caught the blade between the palms of her hands. Then, Buffy opened her eyes meeting his. “Me.”

Shoving the blade away from her, the hilt of the sword hit Angelus in the face. Staggering back, he left Buffy an opening to hop to her feet. She kicked him in the chest causing the vampire to stumble back even more. Now her blade was within reach. Picking it up, she swung it around and thrust it at him, but he managed to parry. They exchanged a series of deadly blows, blocking each other.

Buffy spun around with a roundhouse kick to his side, and Angelus collapsed to the ground. Raising her sword to dispatch Angelus, the Slayer paused as the vampire gasped loudly and groaned with intense pain. His eyes glowed red for an instant before going dark. This wasn’t her doing, it was magick.

The vampire looked up, but quickly collapsed back to the floor, crying. Buffy stared down at him, still holding her sword at the ready. Just in case this was one of Angelus’ evil tricks. Then Angel raised himself back up, his eyes heavy with tears, looking into her eyes.

Sobbing, Angel seemed confused by it all. “Buffy? What's going on?”

Without lowering the sword, Buffy allowed the vampire to get to his feet. He took a confused look around the room as he steadied himself. “Where are we?” He asked with a plea in his voice.

Oh, God! Buffy suddenly realized that Willow’s attempt to ensoul the vampire worked. A blessing in the form of a curse. Lowering her sword, Buffy stepped forward cautiously.

Softly, she sounded out his name. “Angel?”

Noting her wound, Angel looked concerned, “You're hurt.”

Ignores her cut, she stepped closer into his waiting embrace. Angel’s strong arms came around her. The vampire felt complete with her there. His heart was whole again. “Oh, Buffy— The things I’ve done.”

“Shh!” Finally accepting Angel’s return, Buffy closed her eyes and released a deep sigh.

Angel hugged her even closer. “Oh, my God, everything's so muddled. I—”

Kissing her on the shoulder, Angel could only mutter, “Oh, Buffy—”

Nuzzling, she cried into his shoulder, hugging him back. Behind the vampire, Acathla let
out a low rumble. Buffy opened her eyes to stare in shock as Acathla's face contorted. His brows angled down, his eyes glowing red, while his mouth opened grotesquely. Slowly, the swirling vortex to Hell began to open, small at first, but growing steadily in size and emanating a deep, red glow.

Buffy let go of the vampire, looking up into his beautiful angelic face. Confused, Angel asked, “What's happening?”

Whispering reassuringly, Buffy brushed her fingers over his lips and across his cheek. “Shh. Don't worry about it.”

With her hand resting on his cheek, she kissed him softly. Angel returned the kiss with growing passion. Behind them the vortex had grown, now reaching five feet across and continuing to get larger.

Buffy broke off the kiss and looked deeply into Angel's eyes, memorizing his features. “I love you,” she whispered.

In the same soft whisper, Angel echoed her words. “I love you.”

Then with another soft touch against his lips, Buffy thought back to the night they made love. “Close your eyes. Just kiss me.”

Trying not to cry, she kissed him again gently. His eyes closed under the warmth of her reassurance. Before Angel could move to respond to the kiss, Buffy drew back and thrust her sword into his chest. Angel’s dark eyes whipped open in surprise and pain, as a bright light started emanating from the sword.

Buffy staggered back even as Angel reached out to her in confusion. He sees the sword thrusting completely through him. Bewildered by this turn of events, Angel is lost, but looks at her imploringly. Reaching out with his hand, he saw her move further away.

“Buffy—”

Behind him the power of the sword was swirling with the event horizon of the vortex. Buffy kept staring at the sword, avoiding the pleading look in her lover’s eyes. The dimensional gate enlarged to about twelve feet across. Angel was still holding out his hand. Then the vortex closed over the vampire and was sucked back into the stone that formed Acathla's mouth without so much as a spark, taking him with it.

Sliding down along a wall, Buffy felt her legs turn to jelly. Staring at the stone demon for a long moment, a light of awareness dawned in her eyes as she truly realized what she had done, what she had lost. Finally, as her heart seemed to swell large in her chest until breaking into a thousand pieces, Buffy began to sob.
 

[/i]The world is saved by the Chosen One at the expense of her heart. Human strength of will is only countered by its utter fragility. Love lost creates gaping wounds. Some heal. Some never will.[/i]
 

“Willow, are you sure you should be out of bed?” Giles asked the redhead who was still recovering from the after-effects of casting the spell that returned Angel’s soul.

“Look who's talking.” Willow wasn’t the one captured and tortured by Angelus.

Smiling, “Yes.”

Chewing nervously on her lower lip, Cordelia queried, “Any word?”

Xander was worried. There had been no sign of Buffy Summers. “You guys haven't seen her either?”

Willow admitted, “No.”

“But we know the world didn't end, 'cause—,” Cordelia looked around. “Check it out.”

Giles revealed, “Well, we, uh— we went back to the mansion. I-it was empty, um— and Acathla was— dormant.”

Willow nodded. “Dormant demon. That is a good thing. I think the spell worked. I felt something go through me.”

“Plus the Orb did that cool glow thing,” Cordy pointed out.

“Well, maybe it wasn't in time,” Xander suggested. “Maybe she had to kill him before the cure could work.”

Cordelia gulped, now even more frightened. “Well, then, she'd wanna be alone, I guess.”

Her redheaded friend was more optimistic, beaming a smile at her. “Or maybe Angel was saved, and they want to be alone together.”

Giles frowned. “Perhaps.”

“Well, she's gotta show up sooner or later,” Cordelia figured. “We still have school.”

“Yeah.” That made sense. “She'll be here in a while.”

The Slayer did not return, but neither was she assumed to be dead. Giles had contacts searching for clues of Buffy Summer’s whereabouts. Spike and Drusilla had apparently left Sunnydale sometime during the threat of Acathla swallowing the world into Hell— so they could shed no light on their sire’s whereabouts. It seemed clear to Giles— though he spared Cordelia the news— that Angelus or rather Angel had been the one thing to stop the vortex from opening.

Something deep inside him was glad the vampire had been cast into Hell. For all of the suffering he caused, for Jenny’s death and Buffy’s pain— Angel deserved its eternal fire. There was a twinge of guilt each time he realized he was happy with the idea, but Giles did not dwell on it. His concern was for his Slayer.

All summer long, the Scooby Gang had been trying to pick up the slack of a Slayerless Sunnydale. Giles had supported them with some minor training and a supply of weapons. He patrolled with them occasionally, but Xander, Willow and even Cordelia had taken it upon themselves to control the vampire population until Buffy’s eventual return.

The trio mended any rifts between them over the course of the summer. Cordelia and Xander forgave Willow for her interference. Willow forgave them for lying to her about their relationship. Though Xander might have forgiven Cordelia for her relationship with Angelus as it was apparently not entirely her fault, he could not think about her in the same way again. It was the same for her. Cordelia decided to play matchmaker, though neither one of her friends had gotten the hint. So she left it alone, deciding that there had already been too much pushing of people into relationships.

Cordelia mourned Angelus in a way the others pretended to understand— but didn’t. She held out hope that somewhere out there, Angel was with Buffy. That he was alive and not trapped in Hell. She had even gone so far as to tell them of her hope that Angelus was living it up with Spike and Dru somewhere, even if it was without her. It was not until Buffy Summers returned at the end of summer that she gave up that hope. Buffy returned alone, but with the confirmation of Cordelia’s greatest fear.

Cordelia had spent most of the summer months at Buffy’s house with Joyce Summers. It was almost a happy time for Cordy whose own mother was frequently away with her father on out of town trips. Buffy’s return ended that as Cordy learned that Buffy killed Angel after his soul had been restored— even if it did save the world.

Though Cordelia had repaired her shaky friendship with Willow and Xander, there was no way to repair something that had never really existed between herself and Buffy. The two quickly fell back into their pre-Angel pattern of teenage arch-nemeses. They vied for Homecoming Queen— Cordelia because she felt she deserved it and Buffy just to spite her— both of them losing out in the end.

Another shock came as the Watcher’s Council decided to replace Giles. His record with controlling his Slayer was inadequate. Though she had managed to save the world a few times with Giles’ help— that was just her duty. The fact that the Slayer had disappeared from the Hellmouth she was supposed to protect indicated that Rupert Giles really had no control over the girl. Thus, came the arrival into Sunnydale of Wesley Wyndam-Price.

The new Watcher was British with an upper lip as stiff as they could come— He was just so formal. Nothing like comfy old Giles.

Wesley pointed out that Giles was something of an old-fashioned Watcher. “Of course, training procedures have been updated quite a bit since your day. Much greater emphasis on field work.”

Sounding very bored, Giles made an effort to respond. “Really?”

“Oh, yes.” Wesley assured him. “Not all books and theory nowadays. I have, in fact, faced *two* vampires myself. Under controlled circumstances, of course.”

Giles drolly stated, “Well, no danger of finding those here.”

“Vampires?”

“Controlled circumstances.”

Everyone had different reactions to the new Watcher. Primarily, they thought he was a bumbling fool who had no experience in dealing with a Hellmouth or a Slayer like Buffy. Giles tried his best not interfere with the Council’s wishes. Buffy on the other hand was not taking this decision lightly. The relationship that had developed between Rupert Giles and Buffy Summers was so much more than just Watcher and Slayer. He was the male father-figure in her life with her own dad living in L.A.— and failing miserably in getting the Father-of-the-Year points.

Though she obeyed Giles’ order to follow her training protocols with Wesley, Buffy was not giving him any more than that. She defied him at every turn and frequently went on patrols without him— just to see his face when she returned.

Cordelia, perhaps in defiance of Buffy, had taken pity on the poor chap. He was kind of cute in a completely clueless dork kind of way. But then Cordy remembered that she was once Xander’s closet girlfriend. He was kind of cute in a completely clueless dork kind of way too! Except for Angel— no, he had his clueless dorky moments as well.

Cordelia was disturbed by her little epiphany. She was attracted to clueless dorks. That was so not the right image, not that she wouldn’t snap at the chance to get Angelus back if he showed up on her doorstep again. Resolved to find a man who was in no way clueless or a dork, she decided to keep Wesley Wyndam-Price at a comfortable distance from her heart.

The band at the Bronze was playing one of their own; a song with a deep thrumming beat that hit Cordelia in her solar plexus. Earthy and raunchy, calling to some primal instinct to move to the sounds and rhythm. She came to the club alone, but as usual that did not last long. Picking up a random hottie, she took him to the dance floor. Soon they were lost in the crowd of writhing bodies.

The guy was coming onto her, but Cordelia expertly kept him at bay. Kept them dancing and distracted him with her smile. She didn’t want him, just a temporary partner. Before the song ended, Cordelia felt a tug at her elbow. Expecting to see another clubber cutting in on the dance, she was surprised to find Buffy Summers looking at her with an intensity of purpose that scared her.

“Buffy!” Leaning forward to be heard, Cordelia called out to the other girl, “What is it? Why are you here? Did something happen to Xander or Willow?”

The blonde shook her head, finding it impossible to talk through the noise. She pointed toward the door. Cordelia wasn’t about to interrupt her night out for slayage if that was what Buffy was after. Indicating the guy hovering at her shoulder, “I’m busy!”

“Come with me,” Buffy ordered. “Now!”

“I don’t take orders from you,” countered Cordelia.

“Now!”

Before she could say anything else, Buffy grabbed Cordelia by the elbow and led the teen to the exit of the Bronze. Once they were outside, the smaller girl told Cordelia she did not have a choice in the matter. She was coming with Buffy. In fact she was going to be driving her to the mansion.

“The mansion?” Cordelia froze in place as they walked toward the red corvette. “As in Angelus’ mansion?”

“Well, I wasn’t referring to yours,” Buffy waved the girl onward. She seemed to be in a rush.

“Stop that!” She slapped Buffy’s hand away. “I’m not budging. I’m not driving you anywhere.”

“Cordelia, I am not gonna give you a choice.”

“Pfft!”

“Cordy!” Buffy was getting angry.

With a sigh, Cordelia rolled her eyes. “I am never going into that place. Don’t you get it? Angelus wanted it to be my home once he turned me into a vampire. That creeps me out. I am still trying to get over losing him. Unlike some people, I didn’t leave Sunnydale for the summer.”

“So you get over your feelings for Angel by wearing skanky clothes and dancing with all of the guys at the Bronze?”

Cordelia thought it was a good solution. “Yeah. So what?”

“Please come with me, Cordy,” the plea was echoed in her eyes. “Trust me. You’ll want to be there. I-I need you to come— and so does Angel.”

The brunette was struck silent for endless moments, until finally regaining the capacity to speak. “Say what?!”

“Get in the car. I’ll explain along the way.”

Needless to say, Cordelia was in the car and had the engine running by the time Buffy reached the passenger door. “Spill it, Summers.”

After a deep breath, Buffy explained that lately her nighttime patrols included stopping at the mansion. Not only did she avoid Wesley that way, but it gave her time to think. Then one night she had come back to find the area ransacked. She suspected thieves rather than vamps, but there was no evidence of either. Instead, she found a feral creature huddled in one corner of the great hall. A very naked primal Angel who barely recognized her.

“He’s alive?”

Cordelia tried to concentrate on the road, but the car swerved onto the curb as Buffy said that Angel had returned.

“He’s still a vampire,” Buffy told her. “Undead. As in not of the living.”

“Pfft!”

No. Buffy realized that Cordelia wouldn’t care about that. Willow’s spell had taken care of her fear and rejection of Angel’s vampirism. “But he’s not himself either.”

“A-Angelus?” Cordelia’s heart was racing in her chest, but not from fear.

“No. It’s definitely Angel, but he— he’s sick.” Buffy revealed that she had been secretly caring for the vampire at the mansion for the past three weeks. “I was scared to tell you. Any of you. Especially Wesley.”

“What about Giles?” Cordelia couldn’t believe that Buffy would hide this from her. Well, maybe from her, but certainly not the others.

Buffy looked sad. “No matter what Giles says, he still blames Angel for Jenny’s death.”

“That was Angelus,” Cordelia pointed out.

“You’re the one who keeps reminding me that they are the same person,” countered the Slayer.

Gripping the steering wheel, Cordelia corrected, “Vampire. They’re the same vampire. Angel just happens to be under a curse.”

Buffy still didn’t get that. She didn’t *want* to get that. Angel was her lover. Angelus— he was a monster.

As Cordelia brought the car to a stop outside the front steps of the huge mansion, she turned in her seat toward Buffy. “Three weeks is a long time to keep a secret like this to yourself. Why reveal it now? And why tell me?”

Getting out of the car, Buffy forced Cordelia to follow her up the steps to the heavy doors that were the main entry. “Because he’s not getting any better. He cries— like he cannot stand to be here. Sometimes, I-I think he’s afraid of me.”

“Maybe it’s a Slayer thing.” Cordy had to say. After all, Buffy killed him causing him to be swallowed up into a vortex leading straight to hell. The blonde was despondent at the thought, but admitted it was a possibility.

Buffy brought her into the huge foyer. It still looked trashed, but Cordelia instantly saw its full potential. Whoa! She forced herself to stop that line of thinking. She had no claim to this place. None whatsoever. Then she realized that Buffy never really answered her last question.

“Why bring me here, Buffy?” Giles or Willow would get over their shock and help her. It seemed obvious that even Wesley— as a knowledgeable Watcher— was more qualified to deal with a sick vampire than a varsity cheerleader.

As their voices carried across the hall and their footsteps clicked along the stone tiles, a responding sound echoed from an adjoining room. It started out as a wail descending into a series of sobs, but there was no doubt in Cordy’s mind who it was. She shared a scared look with Buffy who told her with tears on her cheeks, “He keeps calling out your name, Cordelia. Keeps begging me to find you. I-I think he needs you near.”

With the clickety-clack of her high heels on the tiles, Cordelia darted toward the sound of Angel’s voice. It was a living room, she noted almost subconsciously. Huge fireplace full of cold ashes, broken furniture and Angel— chained in place as he stood facing the far wall.

“Oh, God!” What was this— Buffy kept him chained up?

At the sound of her voice, Angel turned around to see the young woman standing in the doorway. There was a long pause where he simply soaked up the sight of her with his dark brown eyes. Cordelia clutched her stomach trying to curtail the swell of butterflies taking flight there. H-he looked haggard. Tired— so tired. And scared, just as Buffy had said. But he was there in front of her and Cordelia Chase felt the tears well over until they were pouring freely down her cheeks.

Then a gentle hand was at her back guiding her into the room. “It’s okay,” Buffy assured her. “It’s really Angel.”

“C-Cordy?” The shaky question came from the vampire who seemed to doubt it could be true. As he caught the scent of apples and cinnamon, Angel started to tremble. “It’s really you?”

She had started to walk forward, but then Cordelia was running into Angel’s outstretched arms. “Angel. Angel!”

The vampire’s arms enveloped her. Ignoring the chinking of the chains, Cordelia wound her own arms tightly around Angel’s waist and pressed her damp cheek against the black sweater covering his hard chest. Countless moments passed as Buffy watched them from across the room. A flash of jealousy was drowned out by the wave of relief she felt as the vampire recognized Cordelia. The past three weeks had been so difficult on her own as she tried to fix things.

Though Buffy had clothed him and brought him pig’s blood, it was not enough. Despite the fact that he was less feral in her presence now than he was before, Buffy realized that Angel was missing something vital to his complete recovery. His periodic lucidity would see-saw with the babbling and crying. Not knowing what else to do, Buffy simply sat and talked to him as if catching him up on the events he had missed while out of town. Way out of town, as it was.

It had seemed to be working. Angel would actually pay attention to her during some of the stories. Especially when the subject involved Cordelia’s latest antics. After each one of those tales, he would return to a near fugue state. That was when he started calling out for Cordelia Chase and Buffy realized that the cheerleader was the necessary factor.

Buffy’s broken heart had never healed and now it looked like it was going to stay that way. She could not turn her eyes away as Angel’s hands came up to cup Cordy’s head to gently tilt her face upward. They stared at each other like long-lost lovers, which Buffy supposed they were in a way. Then the kissing began. Not just friendly kissing. Or the lets-kiss-it-better kissing. Not even I-missed-you kissing. No, this was mind-numbing passion kind of kissing that left Buffy gasping at them in the wake of its intensity.

“Angel?” Cordelia pulled back from the haze of lust that was washing over her. She remembered that they were not alone. Nor was this truly Angelus. “What is it, Angel? Tell me what you need.”

One hand dropped to her hip, pulling Cordelia closer and holding her against the hardness of his groin. The other toyed with the curling strands of her upswept hair that had fallen to cover the permanent scar on her throat. Though her eyes widened a bit at the thought as his gaze hovered there, Cordelia recognized the need that was burning from the depths of his gaze. She smoothed the hair on the back of his neck and held him.

“Is that what you need, baby?” Cordelia was whispering as she drew him down. “Just do it, Angel. Take what you need from me.”

Buffy nearly had a stroke as she watched Cordelia Chase encourage a vampire to bite her. This wasn’t Angelus, it was Angel! Something deep inside the Slayer commanded her to stop this. It was wrong. So wrong. The stake was in her hands— how did that get there? She couldn’t let this happen could she? Then Buffy recalled that this wasn’t the first time.

Angel’s human face vanished with the instant shifting of bone revealing his true demonic visage. Unaware of anything except the pulsing hum of blood in the vessels beneath the mark, Angel clamped down on her neck with his mouth running his tongue along the scar tissue. Then, a second later, he bit down with his fangs.

“Oh, God! Cordy!” The cry left Buffy’s throat at the sound of the girl’s painful moan. It had to hurt. Moving forward, she stopped only when Cordelia waved her off. Watching again, Buffy slumped down onto the overturned couch dropping the stake to the ground.

The pain seemed to have stopped, Buffy noted sourly. Cordelia was now clutching Angel and was sounding out little mewls of pleasure. The vampire was rhythmically grinding his erection along the girl’s lower belly mimicking sex. Mimicking? Buffy thought about it and disregarded the idea. It *was* sex. Vamp sex.

Feeling a little dizzy, Cordelia tugged on the vampire’s ears. Angel retracted his fangs slowly, but continued to lap at her neck until the trail of blood stopped. Picking her up, he was now rocking against her groin despite the barrier of his pants and her panties, her legs winding around his waist as she moved to increase the friction between them. Angel stayed there in the crook of her neck until he heard Cordelia let out a soft wail of pleasure as she climaxed in his arms. His head tilted back as an orgasmic cry barreled from his throat. Eventually, when Cordelia’s heart rate had slowed, Angel looked up to see her smiling at him with that bright toothy grin of hers that brought sunshine into the darkness.

The human face was on again, though Cordelia did not find it necessary. In fact, it made her remember that this was Angel and not Angelus. He belonged to Buffy despite what had just happened. The vampire was distraught. He’d just returned from hell. No doubt the Slayer had been feeding him pig’s blood. He couldn’t heal properly on that diet.

“Cordelia?” He seemed more lucid now. Cupping her face again, he leaned in to press a soft smooch across her mouth. And another. “Thank you.”

She trembled in his arms. “Anytime. Liquid lunch, that’s me!”

The softly sardonic laughter that sounded from nearby caught the vampire’s attention. “Buffy?”

The Slayer realized that he just noticed her presence. Getting to her feet, she walked over to the pair who were still entangled in each other’s arms. “I’m here for you, Angel. In any way that I can be— except lunch. Cordy can handle that one.”

Angel suddenly found himself staring back and forth between Buffy and Cordelia. This was not right. He loved Buffy. He needed Cordelia. Confusion returned as the vampire called upon his memory. It seemed he had been so long without them.

Reaching out, his fingers touched the Slayer’s flushed cheek. “Things are confusing. I’m remembering. I-I-I killed Jenny Calendar.”

“It was Angelus,” Buffy took his hand to press a comforting kiss into the palm. “Not you Angel. It was Angelus that did those things.”

Killing the computer teacher had been the least of the sins committed while the soul was out of the picture, Angel realized. The worst of it had been focused on these two young women. “Buffy, the things I said to you that night. After we made love—”

“Not you,” she stressed. “I love you, Angel. Nothing’s changed that. Nothing.”

“I love you too,” Angel responded wholeheartedly. Then he realized that it wasn’t with his *whole* heart. Just minutes before, he had renewed his claim on Cordelia Chase and brought them both to a crashing climax with the Slayer observing the whole thing. “Oh, Buffy! You saw that. I-it was— I can’t explain it.”

The cheerleader had listened to their declarations of love with a heavy heart. She felt very much like the other woman in a bad soap opera. Inching her way out of Angel’s embrace, she tried to step away to a comfortable distance. The vampire snatched her back again; he seemed surprised by the action and released her. “Sorry, Cordy.”

“Don’t,” Cordelia did not want to hear an apology.

“I have to say it,” Angel pleaded. “What happened between us—”

“Willow’s spell,” Buffy prompted.

Angel looked confused again for a second. “No. Not the spell. From the moment we met and even before then, Cordy, some part of me wanted you. It’s the reason I pursued you like a madman once the soul was gone.”

While Buffy reacted to this confession with renewed denial of what she had seen between them so long ago at the Bronze, Cordelia sensed the coming of the conjunction. “—But I still love Buffy.”

“I know,” Cordy whispered the acknowledgement.

“Can you forgive me, Cordelia?” Angel needed to hear the words, but there were others he also needed to witness. “Forget the pain I’ve caused? Forget what’s happened between us?”

“No!” Cordelia cried out in denial. Her hazel eyes were bright with tears as a crazed look appeared on her face.

Angel quaked with the intensity of the response. Clarifying, “You won’t forgive me?”

Staring at the floor, Cordelia’s shoulders slumped with the power of her sigh. Then she met his gaze again, sounding irritated. “No, dumbass! There is nothing to forgive.”

“Yes, there is.”

“No, there’s not.”

“There is too.”

“Not!”

Buffy rolled her eyes, but figured she would let this one go on uninterrupted. Obviously, they had serious issues to work out before there was ever going to be a ‘Buffy and Angel Show’ again.

Cordelia smirked as Angel fell silent. “I win! Cordy six points, Vamp zero.”

Pressing a finger to her lips to silence her, Angel quipped, “Looks like *I* get the point after.”

“Since when do you know football?” Cordelia looked flabbergasted, now completely sidetracked.

“Since watching most of your games from the shadows,” he admitted. And not only as Angelus.

“Oh.”

“Obsessed madman, remember?” Angel’s mouth quirked into a grin. Geez, that made him look hot! “Now— back to my point.”

Glancing over at Buffy, the cheerleader decided that she could not pass up this probably one time opportunity to share her feelings with Angel. “Without your soul, you’ve been yourself again, Angel. I’m sorry if that scares you, but it’s true.”

Saying nothing, Angel let her continue. There was something else she needed to know, but this wasn’t the time to discuss it.

“You haven’t been human for a long time,” she said softly. “You are a vampire with all the dark and nasty habits of your kind, but that doesn’t mean you are stuck in a time warp forced to be the same person for eternity.”

Buffy blinked in consternation. The other girl’s words were making her feel shallow at the thought that she had tried so hard to forget Angel *was* a vampire. She had tried so hard to make *him* forget it.

“The soul is a blessing, Angel,” added Cordelia. “It gives you a greater capacity to love and to experience every human emotion that your nature suppresses.”

Suddenly, he was hugging her again. Pulling her into his arms just to feel her body next to his. Whispering against her hair, “Cordy the philosopher.”

Ignoring the teasing words, Cordelia hit the palm of her hand against his chest. “Don’t be such a dumbass. My point is simple, Angel. I love you. Every part of you there is to love. If that is the result of Willow’s magick, then I owe her something special.”

They were kissing again, Buffy noted while blowing at the wisp of hair that kept falling into her eyes. After Cordy’s little speech, she almost felt like cheering them on. But not quite.

“I don’t deserve you,” Angel pressed a slow soft smooch against the beauty mark on Cordelia’s cheek.

“Yes you do,” sighed Cordelia leaning into him.

Angel countered softly into her ear, “No, I—”

That was it, Buffy decided. “Enough!”

Jerking apart, Angel and Cordelia felt a blast of guilt. Once again they had forgotten that they were not alone. “This is weird,” Buffy roared. “I want to scratch somebody’s eyes out. Just not sure who.”

Angel started to look distressed again. “I-I think I need to be alone for a while.”

“Brooding isn’t gonna help,” Cordelia told him. “Look, Angel. No, Buffy please let me speak. Angel, I told you that I love you. That was the truth. I-I don’t know how you feel about me. I was dating Angelus. I broke up with Angelus. Just think of it that way.”

Wanting to protest that they had not been *dating* and that he had claimed her, Angel realized that Cordelia was giving him an easy way out of a potentially messy situation. At least for tonight. What felt like eons in hell was a breeze compared to this.

“Should I unchain you now?” Buffy asked the vampire.

“No!” Angel needed the security of knowing that he couldn’t go after Cordelia tonight. A thought occurred to him suddenly, one that shook him to the core of his being. Blood and orgasms had been had with Cordelia again, but this time with his soul in place. Hearing her declarations of love had left him feeling pretty damn blissful, even if for a moment. What if it happened again— losing his soul?

“Okay.” Buffy sent Cordelia a worried look. This was the longest he had gone without falling back into his emotional wallowing. Now the vampire was again crouched down on the floor.

“We’re going, Angel,” Cordelia ran her hand through his hair rasping her nails across the nape of his neck.

Buffy told him, “But we’ll be back tomorrow after school.”

“Tomorrow,” he nodded. God, he hoped there was a tomorrow. Rising up onto his knees, he grabbed them by their slender wrists. Standing again, “Wait.”

In for a penny— the thought trailed off as he pulled first Buffy and then Cordelia toward him. “Just one kiss goodbye.”

Buffy had enough of goodbye kisses. This was the first chance she had to really say hello in a good way since Angel had spent so much time confused and uncertain of his identity much less hers. She put all the love and passion she possessed into the kiss as Angel’s lips met hers. Golly, he sure can kiss! She felt it down to her toes. Reluctantly, she broke away. Just one kiss, he’d said. She wanted more.

“You don’t have to,” Cordelia touched his face. The vampire wanted to laugh realizing that she thought he was doing *her* a favor. He whispered, “Yes, I do.”

“No, you—” He stopped her protest with a kiss of sublime beauty. Tender and passionate in its softness it sent shudders through them both. His tongue rasped across Cordelia’s lower lip causing a tiny gasp of pleasure. Then his mouth pressed closer opening hers to admit him inside for a deeper taste. As they slowly parted, their lips brushed against each other until Cordelia took Angel’s lower lip into her mouth sucking on it for the briefest moment before pulling away.

“I think that was more than one,” Buffy commented as she watched Angel release the girl from his hold. With a short laugh, the vampire took Buffy’s face in his hands and leaned down to kiss her nose.

“There,” he said. “You’re even.”

Cordelia giggled at the sight of Buffy’s gaping mouth. “Geez, Summers! You look like a fish with you mouth hanging open that way.

Planning to be irritated, Buffy found herself laughing instead. “Goodnight, Angel.”

“Goodnight, Buffy. See you tomorrow.”

“Yeah. Tomorrow.”

“Goodnight Cordelia.”

“Goodnight— Johnboy!”

“Well, I’ve never called it that before,” they heard him mutter.

The two teenagers were giggling all the way to the car. It was only when they were inside that a strange silence settled over them. They stared at each other for awkward moments until Buffy and Cordelia finally broke down into tears simultaneously. They flung their arms around each other into a hug that demonstrated their belief that prayers really could be answered.

“He’s back, Buffy! Angel is really here.” Cordelia sobbed.

Buffy was also crying. “I know! I know! It’s really a miracle.”

Finally, they settled back into their seats. The cheerleader wanted to know, “What now? What happens next?”

Thinking about it, Buffy admitted, “I think we’re overdue for a Scooby Meeting.”

“Thank God!” Cordelia let out a sigh of relief. “I was afraid I was going to have to keep this a secret.”
 

Cast out of Hell. Was it divine intervention? True love? Successful battles? The truth of our Warrior’s return to this plane of existence is unclear even to the Powers that Be. If Chaos erred by its interference, then all may be well. For now the Warrior is reunited with the Seer-to-be and the Chosen One even if it is on a parallel course rather than one planned for their fate. Another variable could tumble their future back into darkness and take the world with it or converge it with the proper path. Oracles to the Powers that Be, we watch and wonder at the outcome.

Part 7

 Cast out of Hell. Was it divine intervention? True love? Successful battles? The truth of our Warrior’s return to this plane of existence is unclear even to the Powers that Be. If Chaos erred by its interference, then all may be well. For now the Warrior is reunited with the Seer-to-be and the Chosen One even if it is on a parallel course rather than one planned for their fate. Another variable could tumble their future back into darkness and take the world with it or converge it with the proper path. Oracles to the Powers that Be, we watch and wonder at the outcome.
 

“Did you say Cordelia called this Scooby Meeting?” Xander questioned Willow as he sat down at the library table.

Nodding, Willow explained that Cordy had called from her cell phone. “Buffy was with her. They wanted me to call everyone else.”

“Cordy and Buffy together? Calling a meeting?” That gave Xander the wiggins. “I sense another apocalypse.”

“What did you say about an apocalypse?” Wesley Wyndam-Price stepped through the doors of the library. “The Watcher’s Council have no record of any prophesies indicating world destruction anytime this week.”

Willow smiled at the Watcher, trying her best not to laugh. “No apocalypse. Just Cordelia and Buffy. They called the meeting.”

“Oh, dear!” Wesley sounded petrified by the idea. “Perhaps I should check other sources. This could indeed be devastating news if those two are in on it together.”

Giles emerged from the library office that would be his until the end of the school year. “I suggest we be prepared for anything from the Hellmouth opening to a ghastly shortage of nail polish.”

There was running in the hallway, the sound of clacking heels swiftly approaching the library. The sound stopped just outside, but the doors didn’t open. Mumbling voices came from the other side. Giles gestured to Wesley and each man took one door, swinging it open to see Cordelia and Buffy fixing each other’s hair and makeup.

“Been down to the Army Depot again?” Xander asked Cordelia. It might not be the red leather mini, but that dress certainly came close.

“Just the Bronze,” Cordelia swept into the room with her head held high hoping that the mascara stains were gone.

Buffy followed hopping up on the table next to Xander and Willow. “Let’s get right to the point.”

“There’s a point to this meeting?” Xander quipped.

“Right!” Cordelia glared at him. “If you don’t shut up, you’ll be *meeting* Mr. Pointy.”

Nodding at Buffy, the cheerleader indicated that she had the floor— or the table as it were. Buffy pressed her lips together then let out a slow breath. She could do this. Really.

“Cordy and I have good news.”

Xander was holding his tongue in check.

“Angel is alive.”

“What?!” Xander jumped off the table, turning to stare at her. Good news, she’d said.

Willow screeched in delight and hugged her blonde friend. “Angel is back! Angel is back!”

Rupert Giles said nothing, just looked at his Slayer. He wasn’t certain how he felt about Angel’s return. He was only curious as to how such a return was possible.

“I say!” Wesley looked intrigued. He had done a lot of research on Angelus prior to coming to Sunnydale. His arrival had just missed the vampire’s descent into hell by a short period. There were dozens of questions— hundreds— the Watcher wanted to ask.

Then Buffy explained that she had found Angel at the mansion three weeks ago. It came as an even bigger shock to them than the announcement of the vampire’s return. She told them a modified version of her reasons for keeping the information to herself.

“At first, I thought I was protecting him,” Buffy said. “He was so scared. He didn’t even know who or where he was. I thought I could help him. I needed to help him.”

“Buffy, we would have come to your aid,” Giles told her even though he figured that he knew the reasons why she had not come to them sooner.

With a small smile, Buffy nodded. “I know. That’s what Cordy told me. I wasn’t so sure of it at the time.”

”When did you find out?” Xander asked his former girlfriend.

“Tonight.”

“So you convinced Buffy to spill her dark little secret?” The boy was angry. Not only that Buffy had lied or that Cordelia was involved, but just because fate had screwed him once again. Angel was back in Sunnydale.

Hands on her hips, “No, Xand. Buffy felt it was time. It seems that Angel has made some progress, but he’s still not quite up to par.”

Realizing that Cordelia was avoiding the reason for Angel’s progress, Buffy knew that it was one secret that she could not keep. She was worried, not only for selfish reasons, but also for Angel and Cordelia. Buffy explained to the group how she had found the vampire in a feral state at the mansion. That he eventually came to recognize her but kept falling back into a state of confusion. A state where he kept crying in need for— Cordelia.

“It’s Angelus!” Xander headed over to the weapon’s locker.

Cordelia stepped directly into his path. “No. It’s Angel. Don’t you think that I know the difference?”

“He’s a murderer, Cordy!”

“It’s Angel,” she stressed. Grabbing at Xander’s arm as he reached forward, “He can’t be held responsible for what he did after his conscience was ripped out of him.”

Xander pulled his arm out of Cordelia’s grasp. “You’re still under the spell! Can’t you see that? Obsessed with that vampire.”

“It’s more than that,” she whispered as Xander walked across the room to sit on the steps to the upper level.

The cheerleader fell silent, looking about the room with a measure of self-pity. That was a feeling she never thought to associate with herself, but it was a fact nonetheless. “Angel loves Buffy. That is what matters. It’s more than magick.”

Buffy wanted to protest that she knew Cordy’s feelings for Angel extended beyond the reach of Willow’s spell.

“This is all my fault,” the witch let out a whimper. Though Xander and Cordelia had both forgiven her, she could see this issue going on forever. It was not as though she could take the spell back— after countless attempts she had given up. “Just look on the bright side like Cordy is trying too. Now that Angel is back, he can be with Buffy again.”

“Not so fast,” warned Giles drawing their attention. Gently, he reminded, “Buffy, you cannot be with Angel— physically. The Kalderash curse restored Angel’s soul. Reliving your time together will endanger us all. Angelus could return.”

“He won’t!” Willow sounded certain. “I fixed that— I think.”

“What?!” Now Buffy was off of the table, staring at Willow as if the girl had just offered her a million dollar jackpot. “Angel’s soul is— fixed?”

Giles and Wesley moved up closer. “What do you mean, Willow?” The former Watcher asked the girl. “Are you saying that you tampered with the soul restoration spell?”

“I-I may have tweaked it a little,” admitted the redhead with a weak smile.

“My word!” Wesley gasped. “That could have untold consequences.”

Buffy could think of one consequence she wouldn’t mind in the least. Angel. She could have Angel again and this time make things right. Where they would wake up together and cherish the memory of their lovemaking. Not like the last time. Where she was left abandoned in Angel’s bed only to have Angelus return and mock her.

Striding over to the lockup, Giles pulled out his key. Willow nibbled on her lip as she realized what the librarian was doing. He shuffled around inside the cage for a couple of minutes before calling out in an angry voice, “Willow! Where is the tome containing the Mortivaricus Incantations?”

A low mumble was all the response he got.

Slamming the cage door, Giles walked up to the girl. “I’m waiting for an answer.”

“My locker,” she peeked up at the infuriated man. “I brought it from home yesterday. I was waiting for the right chance to return it.”

Even Wesley was shocked. The idea of a young girl delving in to the magicks found in that particular tome. No wonder the Watcher’s Council had replaced Rupert Giles. He couldn’t even control his own books, much less the Slayer. Not that Wesley himself had much luck in that regard presently.

“Get it now,” Giles ordered, pointing her in the direction of the doors.

Eep! “Yes, Giles.”

“Try not to be so hard on her,” pleaded Buffy. “She did it for me. To make me happy.”

Xander figured that he was the only one with common sense around this place. Every one else was in la-la land. “Buffster, you’re still obsessed with Angel, Cordelia with Angelus, and Willow—”

“— is so over you, Xander Harris,” huffed Cordelia, “so don’t get a swelled head.”

“I was gonna say that Willow is obsessed with k.” Xander looked a bit hurt by the idea that his Willow might no longer think of him that way. “Her hands are dipping into that little cookie jar of spells way too often.”

“It is not the magick itself, but the type of power she is accessing,” Giles countered with a sigh. “Not to mention the fact that she keeps casting those spells on her friends. We’re lucky she hasn’t turned anyone into a rat by now.”

Buffy and Xander shared a look. Some things were better left unsaid. Bursting back into the library, Willow returned with the stolen tome and the demonology book. “This is it, Giles. Honest. I don’t have any others.”

“I believe you, Willow.” Then as she moved to sit down, “I think you still have the spare key.”

Dipping into her pocket, Willow held it out to him. “Oops!”

“I believe there will have to be more of an explanation than that,” Giles told her. “First, I suggest we figure out what changes you’ve made to the spell and look at the potential outcomes.”

Frowning, Willow realized that she did not like being questioned this way. Not by Giles. He had always trusted her before. Besides, she only intended to help Angel. “I told you. I just tweaked it a little.”

“What part did you tweak?” asked Wesley looking over the original spell that Giles now kept on file in his office. Then he took the printout Willow extracted from her bag. After a few minutes of study his concerned look deepened into worry. “Oh dear!”

Buffy did not like that sound. “What is it?”

Instead of answering, Welsey handed the documents over to Giles. “Read here and here.”

“Willow!” Giles thrust the papers back into the younger Watcher’s hands and moved away to clean his glasses. “Your interference with the restoration spell appears to have worked.”

The witch was confused. “That’s a bad thing? The reason for *Oh, Dear* and snapping at me is that my spell tweaking worked?”

“Sit down,” Giles put his glasses back on. “Everyone, please sit down. This is going to take a little historical background and time to digest. Not everyone at this table is going to be happy about the results, perhaps none of us.”

“Are you sure we want to know?”

“It’s necessary, Willow. This may even affect Angel’s well-being.” Giles waited until they were all seated. He chose to stand, preferring the ability to pace through this dread discussion.

Willow trembled in fear and glanced over at Buffy who was not at all looking pleased that Angel’s health might be in danger. She had just gotten him back.

“What we know of Angelus comes primarily from the Watcher’s Diaries,” Giles revealed to them. “I have kept these entries from you in the past because it would not have been fair for Angel who was at that time acting as our colleague.”

Cordelia exchanged a look with Willow. Both knew that the cheerleader had borrowed the books in order to read the writings on the vampire.

“Though Wesley was not here at the time that Jenny revealed herself to us as a Kalderash gypsy, he has done extensive research into Angelus’ history,” Giles continued. “He is as aware as I of the true nature of this dangerous vampire. With Acathla, you witnessed the extent to which he is willing to go when threatened. He would plunge the world into Hell itself— he nearly did.”

“But Angel is different.” Buffy defended.

“Oh, yes,” Giles admitted. “He has a soul. A tenuous link to the pain and anguish of the human plight. A reminder of what he has done during his undead existence.”

He paused, noting that they were all alert and listening. “As Jenny explained that day, the vampire’s soul is linked to his suffering and guilt. As long as he remembers who he is, the soul remains intact— unless the vampire is distracted from that self-awareness.”

“We already know that part,” Xander complained. “The vamp gets a happy and wham he turns into Cordelia’s not so sweet obsession.”

Glaring at the boy in silence, Cordelia turned her attention back to the two Watchers.

“Now we get to the revised spell,” Wesley realized what came next. “Willow, tell us your thinking when you came up with this particular wording.”

Noting the lines of the incantation, Willow still did not see the problem. “I-I wanted to be able to secure Angel’s soul. To fix it so that Buffy could be with Angel. Without Angelus popping up again.”

“Go on,” Wesley knew there was more.

Willow fingered the words on the page, wondering where she had gone wrong. At least in their eyes. This was still their theory. It hadn’t been tested yet. “The demonology book I borrowed was full of fun facts about vampires and their family structures.”

The others in the room did not find her research quite as fun-filled as Willow. “Though it did not go into too many details, it did talk about the importance of a vampire’s mate on their own life-force. I figured that making a connection for Angel that linked the security of his soul to his mate, that a little happiness would be possible— as long as Buffy and Angel were together.”

“So the spell made us soulmates?” Buffy looked at her friend with love in her eyes. The witch was certainly on her side in this. “Why is this a problem, Giles? It seems like it’s a perfect solution.”

Looking back at his Slayer, Giles’s heart was full of woe and pity. “Willow’s one error in creating this addition to the spell of restoration was that she created a connection between Angel and his mate. Not specifically you, Buffy. His mate.”

Giles gave a solemn pause before turning away from the Slayer. Addressing, “Cordelia, I think it is time for you to tell me the extent of your encounter with Angelus.”

All eyes slowly turned to the brunette who sat in shock at the Watcher’s words. She lifted a hand to the reopened scar on her neck. Did that mean what Giles was suggesting? That the claim Angelus had made was more than just a warning to other vamps?

Giles had gotten the watered-down version of the tale after the incident. Now he realized the girls had left out most of the details. “You told me that Angelus used you as a lesson for the Slayer. That he— seduced you, bit you and dropped you off at Buffy’s house.”

“More or less,” the cheerleader muttered, drawing looks from Buffy and Willow.

Pursing his lips, the former Watcher pointed out, “I’ve already heard the *lesser* version. I think *more* would now be appropriate.”

Walked into that one! Explaining this to Giles was worse than talking to the others. Even Xander had been easier, though he didn’t know everything either. “That is really all that happened. Just what you said. We did it. He bit me. He dropped me off at the Summers’ place.”

Holding up a finger in the air, Wesley indicated to the older man that he would like to try. “Cordelia, I believe there is one aspect of this encounter upon which we must be *totally* clear. After Angelus bit you, did you take any of his blood in return?”

Cordy squirmed in her chair. “Hello, I am *so* not a vampire. I don’t bite.”

“Not with her teeth— usually.” Xander guffawed. “It’s usually her acidic tongue that carries the Cordelia Bite.”

Wesley’s eyes narrowed at the boy’s in appropriate interruption. This was serious. Not something to be laughed at. “That is irrelevant. The power is not in the vampire bite, but in the blood.”

“Power?”

“The power of a claim,” Giles clarified.

Persistently, the younger Watcher asked again, “Did you consume any of the vampire’s blood?”

Thinking about it, Cordelia admitted, “I’m not sure. Maybe. The first time—”

“What?!” Giles yanked off his glasses and started cleaning the lenses on his vest. “First time? Meaning there was a s-s-second time?”

Blushing, Cordelia ignored the question in favor of continuing with her original answer. “The first time, I don’t know. He took a lot of my blood. I was dizzy. All I remember was him asking— something to do with wanting him or being with him or belonging to him. He kept using the word *mine* a lot. Then I passed out.”

The Watchers exchanged meaningful glances. Wesley realized that this discussion had far surpassed the bounds of polite conversation. It was a necessary evil to dredge up certain details for the sake of their investigation. “Did Angelus actually seduce you or were you a willing participant?”

“I let him,” she admitted softly.

Willow was next to cough up a confession to the two Watchers. She explained about the spell cast upon Cordelia to make her respond to Angel rather than fear his vampire traits. “It was when Angel was Angel,” she stressed. “I was jealous of Cordy and Xander. Angel would never want Cordelia— just Buffy— so I figured that would be one way to get back at her. Nobody thought Angel would lose his soul! How was I to know that Cordy would jump at the chance t-to—?”

“Bone Angelus?” Xander’s quip sounded harsh.

Wesley nodded with understanding as the pieces of the puzzle started to fall into place. “I see. As a result of this spell, not only did Cordelia willingly accept Angelus’— advances, she accepted his claim.”

“What does that mean?” Buffy demanded.

“We’ll get to that in a minute,” Wesley waved her off, still collecting data.

Buffy glared at Cordelia with a growing realization that there was indeed some kind of bond between the cheerleader and the vampire. It seemed obvious when Angel started to call her name, pleading for her presence. More obvious earlier when Cordelia and Angel were practically— mating— in front of her. Was that what Wesley and Giles were trying to figure out?

Please, no! Buffy kept silent as the Englishman went on with his line of questioning. “It seems certain that you accepted whatever the vampire asked of you, Cordelia. The spell would probably prevent refusal. What remains unclear is whether there was an exchange of blood.”

“You mentioned a second time with Angelus,” Giles cut in, having put his glasses back on. Trying to remain in a scientific frame of mind, he asked, “How about then?”

Cordelia reluctantly nodded. “Maybe. There was lots of kissing; his fangs cut my lips— and his tongue— just as he put it in my mouth I tasted blood. It might have been his.”

“Yes, in other words.”

Shrugging, the girl explained. “Well, I wasn’t sure about that time, but the next couple of times I— Giles are you okay?”

“Thank you, Cordelia,” the librarian sighed deeply. “I believe that you have sufficiently answered the question.

“I thought it was just a vamp thing,” she commented nonplussed. “Goes with the fangs.”

Clearing his throat, Wesley responded dryly, “Yes, Cordelia, it *is* a vamp thing. Ritual bloodplay is a significant to vampirism and is always involved when claiming a mate.”

Once again, Cordelia’s hand drifted up to her throat. The others, especially Buffy, looked thunderstruck. Despite the fact that her friends seemed disgusted and distraught by it, she felt a strange rush of pleasure at the idea. Only one problem. This was not Angelus they were dealing with, but Buffy’s Angel. That was how Willow Rosenberg always referred to the vampire: Buffy’s Angel. It was difficult for Cordelia to think of him in any other way.

Giles’ wry expression signaled a warning. He was about to say something they would not want to hear. “As we all know by now, Buffy’s— gift of her virginity to Angel happened on the same night that Angelus appeared. He seduced or was seduced by Cordy who was under the influence of Willow’s spell. The ensuing bloodplay and consequential claim completed the mating ritual. Thus, Willow’s alteration of the restoration spell created a bond between Angel’s soul and Cordelia’s rather than Angel and Buffy’s. That seems to explain the reason for the vampire’s need to have her with him.”

“No, it can’t be,” Willow stared bug-eyed down at the floor. “You have to be wrong. He is *Buffy’s* Angel, not Cordelia’s.”

“This spell, Willow,” Wesley shook his head. “There was never a chance for Buffy to be the one. Angel is a vampire. They claim their mates in ritualistic fashion. Through blood. The fact that Cordelia was taken when Angel was without his soul makes a stronger link between them since Angelus is the vampire in his purest form.”

Xander saw that the three girls were all in some state of shock. He was feeling it himself, though not to that degree. Though he thought he understood what the two Brits said, there was still a need for clarification. “Cordy and Angelus are soulmates?”

“Angelus doesn’t have a soul, Xander,” Wes pointed out. “Angel does.”

Willow suddenly ran to the nearest trash can and expelled the contents of her stomach. It was a horrible mistake that couldn’t be taken back. Buffy! Oh, poor Buffy! There had to be a way to fix this.

Buffy slowly lifted herself out of her personal pit of misery to speak. “I-I think that it all makes sense now.”

“What?!” Cordelia blinked at her. That wasn’t the expected reaction. A broken nose was closer to it if not the necessity for complete hospitalization.

“The reason Angel kept calling out for you,” she explained quietly. Her voice was barely above a whisper as she tried to control her tears. “He needed you, Cordy. Angel needed his mate— and it wasn’t me!”

“Angel loves you,” Cordelia stressed. “Maybe I am— his mate, but its all just there on paper as part of Willow’s spell. You’re the one he wants.”

“Pfft!” Buffy couldn’t believe that the other girl was even trying to get away with that lame excuse. “Angel was all over you tonight in a way— geez, now that I think about it, he even wanted to claim you that night at the Bronze. When I told you he was a vampire. He had you in some kind of vampiric thrall baring your neck for him.”

Cordy denied that ever happened. “That was a mistake.”

The ache in her chest wasn’t going away, but Buffy had to hash this out just for the sake of her own sanity. “No, it wasn’t.”

“Yes, it was too a mistake.”

“No, it wasn’t.”

“Yes, it was.”

“Wasn’t!”

“Was!”

Buffy tossed her hands up in the air. “Now I’m starting to sound like you two. Arguing back and forth like a ping-pong ball.”

“I’m sorry, Buffy,” offered Cordelia with as much honesty as she could afford at the moment. Somewhere, deep down the idea excited her.

“Yeah. Me too.” Somehow, Buffy would have to learn to live with it.

Getting out of her chair, Cordelia paced a bit until she finally paced directly into Wesley. When an idea hit, she grabbed onto the perfectly pressed edge of his suit jacket. “I’m like the ex-girlfriend, right? Being his mate doesn’t mean I’m stuck with him for the rest of my life. I mean— can you imagine me as some eighty-year old grandmother whose mate is still a young hottie?”

“Uh!” Wes pointed out, “I doubt a vampire would give you an opportunity to reproduce with another male, Cordelia. They’re a bit possessive of their mates. When they share, it is usually with members of their immediate family.”

“Eew!” Xander held up a hand to ward off the image in his head. “I did not need to hear that.”

“I was just making a point,” Cordelia told the young Watcher. “There is no ring on *my* finger. Nothing to tie me to Angel in the eyes of the law. Why shouldn’t Buffy and Angel go for the same relationship they had before— her birthday?”

Buffy perked up a bit at the idea and thought of the Claddagh ring. Her rival was trying to be noble. It still sounded like crumbs compared to what she wanted, but the Slayer was willing to take them. “I don’t know if it is possible,” she admitted. “W-we tried not to— be together, but it was too difficult.”

“Oh.” Thinking about it, Cordelia completely understood. “What if I was there? Like double dating— only with the three of us.”

Having Cordelia as a chaperone would certainly put a damper on their romantic midnight strolls through the graveyards. Not to mention their kissing and groping sessions back at the Smythe Family mausoleum.

Giles wondered if the cheerleader realized what she was offering. Apparently not, by the sound of it and frankly he really did not want to think about the possibilities. Discussing mating and the sexual proclivities of vampires was enough of a flammable subject, much less describing the possible solution that Cordelia Chase had so innocently put forth.

There was one piece of misinformation Giles felt needed to be put to right. “Cordelia, it is important you realize that being linked to a vampire is nothing like being an ex-anything. A bond has formed between you because of Angelus’ claim, but that bond is now linked by a stronger connection because of Willow’s spell.”

The witch in question was still on the floor, holding onto the trash can like it was her best friend. She sobbed silently, thinking that as a best friend it was probably the only one she had left after tonight. Then Xander moved behind her to help her to her feet. He took her back to the table, sitting next to her with his arm around her shoulders offering the silent comfort that best friends sometimes do.

Giles struggled over the next part. He wasn’t certain how to tell Cordelia that Angel’s state of ill-health stemmed not only from the length of time and distance separating them, but also the fact that he had not taken in her blood during that time. The blood was not a necessity for the link, but it provided something innately vampiric in its nature that kept the indulging party stronger. Usually, both were vampires and each consumed the blood of the other.

The Watcher had no doubt that over time— soul or no soul— that Angel’s demon nature would result in Cordelia’s eventual death and rebirth as one of the undead.

The words never came. He could not tell the girl that Angel would turn her. Wesley did it instead, speaking when Giles would have kept him silent. Cordelia Chase surprised them both with her soft acceptance, “I know.”

“What?!” Xander looked appalled at the thought.

Cordelia ignored him. Instead, asking Wesley, “Angel seemed like himself again for a while after he drank my blood. A little later, he was starting to act— different. Almost a little like Angelus. I wouldn’t have expected— some of what he said or did.”

Darting a wide-eyed look in the cheerleader’s direction, Buffy tried to suggest that there were some things that should remain private. Fortunately, Wesley did not ask for details. He pointed out that the transition between dimensions can be hard on the mind and body. Also, there was no telling how long the vampire had been there. “Time runs differently in these other realms. He might have been in that hell dimension a few hours or decades.”

“Will Angel recover?” Buffy asked.

Giles did not know for certain. “Your own experience tonight suggests that he responds to receiving Cordelia’s blood— uh— apparently the blood of his mate. It may be that his recovery is dependent upon it.”

With honesty, Cordelia had to say, “I don’t really like the idea of being the main course at the dinner table.”

“Did it seem like feeding?” Asked Wesley, intrigued by the idea.

Cordy shook her head. “Not really. It was more— like sharing.”

“Orgasmic is more like it,” corrected Buffy under her breath. No one seemed to hear.

The young Watcher frowned at Cordelia’s description. “Strange. I thought you would describe it as sexual in nature. That is what I have read in some of the Watcher Diaries.”

Blushing, Cordelia let him draw his own conclusions from the slow smile that crept onto her face. “What happens next?”

“I suggest that you and Buffy continue to care for Angel until he is well enough to have other visitors,” Giles suggested. “Use your own judgment about supplementing his diet. Just be careful, Cordelia. He is still a vampire. Angel remains the demon garbed with a soul.”

Part 8

 The Scooby meeting concluded. Giles returned to his office with Wesley trailing behind him, the two Watchers preparing to discuss the events of the night minus the teenagers. Xander decided he had enough talk of vampires and opted to go home, while the girls all voted on sleeping over at the Summer’s house despite the fact that it was a school night. With all of the excitement, it was doubtful that they would get to sleep early anyway.

“So, do we tell Joyce?” Asked Cordelia with a frown as they settled down on the living room floor. A movie was playing on the television screen, but it went ignored by them.

Buffy gasped, “No! Mom will freak. Psycho stalker, remember?”

“She knows you’re the Slayer now,” Willow pointed out as she hugged a pillow. “Vamps and demons are everyday things with your mom. Who do you think made cookies after our long patrols while you were gone?”

“Mom knows that Angel is a vampire?” Buffy’s jaw dropped.

Cordelia raised a guilty hand. “I told her. We didn’t know why you disappeared, Buffy. I thought it would make her feel better to know that Angel had died saving the world, but I didn’t want her to think that you’d killed a human.”

Killing Angel wouldn’t have been the top thought in Joyce Summer’s mind. “Cordelia! You told my mom that I gave my virginity to a vampire?!”

“Not in so many words,” Cordy expounded. “She didn’t even think about that— until a lot later. Besides, you’re not the only one.”

“Don’t remind me,” the blonde sighed deeply.

“Buffy, I meant what I said earlier,” Cordy promised. “Angel has always been in love with you. This vampire mate thing is— I-I don’t know what it is yet. Giles and Wesley seem to think I have to be around to help Angel recover.”

Willow wondered, “What about after that? After he’s better?”

The brunette shrugged noncommittally.

“Pretending you don’t care?” Buffy knew better than that. “I’ve seen you with Angel. I heard what you said.”

“Willow’s spell—”

“Doesn’t change a thing!” Buffy hollered.

Hugging her pillow a little tighter, Willow stammered out another apology. She did not know if she could ever apologize enough for her interference. Distraught, the young witch felt lower than the slimiest pond scum. Buffy hugged her friend assuring her that she did not hate her.

“I love you for what you tried to do, Willow,” she told the girl. “Things just don’t always work out.”

“Y-you’re not gonna leave Sunnydale again,” the idea popped into her head, “are you?”

Honestly, the thought had not occurred to Buffy. “No. I’m back for good. I realized that I can’t run away from my life when it gets tough. I have to deal.”

“So let’s deal,” Cordelia pleaded. “Can we work this out? Be friends again— if we ever were? To figure a way to make Angel get better and keep you two together? Buffy, I feel so guilty about all of this.”

“Not your fault, Cor.” Frankly, Buffy was tired of everyone feeling guilty. The truth was that she would take Angel any way she could get him. If that meant perpetual friendship, then she would— just die a thousand deaths— no, no! Buffy would take any scrap of him that Angel was able to give her.

The school day seemed to go on forever. Finally, it ended allowing Buffy and Cordelia to head over to the mansion. Cordy was driving so they arrived quickly at their destination. It was only when she pulled into the driveway that Buffy remembered she intended to stop off at the butcher shop for more blood.

“I’ll go,” Cordelia volunteered. “I’ll get there faster with the car. Just tell me where.”

Buffy described the location. It wasn’t so much a butcher shop as a slaughter house. The look on the cheerleader’s face reminded the Slayer of her own feelings when first seeking out the local blood dealer. The look quickly disappeared and Cordelia suddenly suggested that she also pick up a few things for them.

“We’re gonna need dinner too.” Cordelia knew that Buffy did not cook either. “Take out? How about Chinese?”

“Okay. Just hurry back.”

It was only when Buffy watched the brunette drive away that she realized, “I’m nervous about seeing Angel.”

That was so not right. Angel was her— well, her friend if he couldn’t be anything else. She loved him. Then Buffy realized that Cordelia had left her alone to explain things to Angel. That sneaky bitch! She was actually trying to be Buffy’s friend in all of this crazy mess. It felt weird to depend on someone when you wanted to scratch their eyes out.

Angel was sitting on the floor, his back to the wall and his eyes closed. He seemed to be asleep or meditating. Quietly, Buffy approached him. If she was lucky, Cordelia would return before he realized she was there.

“Hello, Buffy,” he greeted her even before his eyes opened.

“Angel!”

The vampire sat quietly for a moment, his eyes clear and lucent. “Yes, it’s me.”

Wondering if he had been confused about it, Buffy commented, “You sound as if you doubted it.”

Rising to his feet, the clanking of the manacles and chains sounded. Angel leaned back against the wall before speaking. “After last night, Buffy, I had reason to doubt that it would *be* me talking to you today.”

“Oh.” She nodded in understanding. “Angelus. You and Cordy making with the vampire sex. Having a happy, a moment of bliss.”

Angel couldn’t deny it even to her. Especially to her. “Yeah.”

“So no Angelus?”

The vampire looked completely confused. “No. Apparently not. I don’t get it, Buffy.”

“I do,” Buffy admitted. “Wesley’s theory seems to be true.”

“Who is Wesley?” Angel did not recognize the name.

With a laugh, Buffy realized that Angel had not been present for the new Watcher’s entry into her life. She remembered mentioning him during her Sunnydale tales to Angel, but he obviously did not recall it. Must have been during one of his confused periods.

“Long story,” she huffed. “I’ll tell you everything later. The short version is that Giles was fired and Wesley Wyndam-Price is my new Watcher. I’m *so* lucky to have him.”

She added, “That was my sarcastic voice.”

“I got that,” Angel quipped. “Looks like I have been away for a while.”

“Too long.”

“So what was this Watcher’s theory?”

“It’s about your soul and how one minute its there and another minute it’s gone and how just one moment off bliss and— poof,” Buffy knew she was rambling, but couldn’t seem to stop. Finally, when Angel appeared baffled by her sprawling description, she managed to say, “Wes says your soul is secure.”

“My soul is permanent?” Angel looked at her with shock and wonder.

“It is, but it’s not.” Buffy told him that the theory had to do with Willow’s success with the soul restoration spell.

Since the vampire’s memories of the hell dimension were already fading like a distant memory, Angel figured that he couldn’t be mad at the witch for restoring his soul just as he was sent there. Calling upon the memories of his time as Angelus, the vampire thought that the spell in Jenny Calendar’s computer had been destroyed. “Willow found the curse. She restored my soul to me?”

Nodding, Buffy told Angel of her friend’s bravery and determination. “She wanted us to be happy. To be together. You know Willow! Loves the idea of love.”

“So that was what she was up too!” Angel chuckled in a way that reminded the Slayer of his darker half. “Sneaking away with the Mortivaricus Incantations. Playing with magick she shouldn’t know exists.”

“What do you mean?”

Angel realized that Cordelia and Willow had kept silent on the occurrences of that day in the library. “The incantations are demon magicks. Most of them dark and dangerous. The spells are usually related to creating, controlling or killing demons. A few have to do with life and death. Nothing in there about soul restoration.”

“We found a copy of the spell on a computer disc,” Buffy explained. “Willow admitted to us just yesterday that she had taken the Morty Vatican— that spell book and another one on demons in order to tweak the soul spell.”

“What?!” Angel flared angrily. “She *tweaked* it? The spell that returned my soul?”

“Yup. Willow tweaked it,” nodded Buffy with a sigh.

Why did Angel get the feeling that tweaking was a bad thing? Furious at the thought, he ground out, “That little witch! She didn’t learn her lesson the first time, did she? I told her to lay off the spells. I told her to stop interfering with me and mine.”

“Uh— Angel?” Buffy had to point out that Willow probably thought she could disregard anything Angelus had ordered her to do if it meant saving Angel’s soul. “Besides, Willow thought she was doing us a favor.”

“What favor?”

“Securing your soul,” she answered softly. “No more barriers to happiness.”

Buffy stood with her arms wrapped around her small frame. Just out of Angel’s reach despite the long chains that allowed him enough freedom to move around a bit. “My soul is secure. No curse. No Angelus.”

“Not exactly.”

Rubbing the back of his neck, Angel was getting confused. Hell, maybe he was *still* in hell and this was the latest hallucination. “Tell me.”

Where was Cordelia Chase when you needed her? Buffy struggled to find the words to tell him. “There was a hitch in the spell.”

“A tiny hitch?”

“Does whopping and enormous ring a bell?” Buffy sounded flippant, but she was crying on the inside.

There was fear on Angel’s face, something she had never seen before his return from the hell dimension. Buffy knew he deserved the truth, so told him everything. Besides, she was afraid Cordelia might try to underplay the significance of it all. The cheerleader was so determined to let Buffy and Angel resume their lovelorn relationship no matter the cost to her own feelings and future.

While Buffy was selfish enough to want Angel to herself, the Watchers’ explanation of the situation made it clear that whatever the connection between the vampire and Cordy, it was permanent. She just needed time to get used to the idea. The three of them needed to figure a way to deal with their twisted pretzel of a relationship.

As she related the theory to Angel, he denied nothing about Angelus’ interactions with Cordelia Chase. It made Buffy realize that Angel already knew that his soulless self had claimed her, that Cordy was the demon’s mate— his mate. When she finished, they stood in silence for countless minutes as the impact of the truth sank in.

“Where is she?” Angel hesitantly asked what had been on his mind ever since Buffy appeared on her own.

“Grabbing take-out blood and Chinese food.”

“I feel— words can’t really express it, Buffy,” he looked pained. “I love you. You know I will stand by you forever, but being with you again would risk Angelus’ return. The two Watchers seem to think that Willow’s spell secures my soul, but not with you.”

“Not with me,” she repeated softly, her grief sounding in the words.

“There is one certain thing I know Buffy and that is I forget myself when we’re together. I forget anything but you. If I had my way, you’d be in my arms right now.”

She looked at him with her heart in her eyes. “It’s not that simple.”

“Love isn’t that simple,” he agreed. “I wouldn’t want it to be.”

“Looks like you get your way,” she quipped before countering with, “I want you too.”

“We can’t risk it,” he told her, “being together the way we were before this happened.”

“Cordy said she would—,” Buffy trailed off suddenly realizing the impact of what she was about to say. Double dating as a trio. That had other implications that Buffy suddenly figured out. No wonder Giles had given her that look.

Angel was waiting for her to finish. “Cordy said what?”

Fumbling for an answer, Buffy shifted toward the overturned couch. If she started pacing, Angel would know something was up. “Just that she wouldn’t stand in our way. She said that being your— mate— was just on paper, just a part of Willow’s spell.”

Whirling around at the sound of the irritated growl emanating from Angel’s throat, Buffy saw him straining against the chains. “Damn, that pisses me off! If Cordelia Chase rejects my claim one more time, her firm little ass is gonna be a lot redder than Willow’s when I’m done with her!”

“W-wh—,” Buffy couldn’t even complete a one word question she was so flabbergasted.

These Angelus-like statements kept coming from Angel as if he was still confused about who he was. The memories of his soulless self were too fresh in his mind. Buffy finally realized that his ranting was a sign of his state of health. He was deteriorating again, but surely Angel had not just admitted to doing something to Willow Rosenberg other than bruising her neck and breaking her arm.

“Angel?” The question brought him out of his growing rage. “D-did you— spank my best friend?”

“Uh— what can I say? I was evil.” Angel held up his hands and shrugged. “She needed a little punishment as Angelus saw it.”

“Why?”

“No good reason other than interrupting Cordy and me in the library,” Angel admitted. “I was not pleased as I recall.”

“Eew!” Buffy gasped. “You and Cordelia almost did it in the library? Giles would stake you on sight.”

“Probably will anyway,” Angel muttered failing to mention that there was no *almost* about it.

Letting it go, Buffy wanted to get back to the topic of Angel’s soul. “Speaking of you and Cordelia— doing it, Wesley seems to think it would be safe. She’s your mate. Willow’s spell created a loophole to allow getting happy as long as she is there to secure your soul. I think he was hinting that there is only one way to prove the theory.”

“I think it was proven last night,” Angel admitted. The Watcher’s description of the little loophole was circling in his brain, making him think crazy thoughts. Ones that would be impossible for either girl to accept. Thoughts that could get him staked. “I still want to be with you, Buffy. Those feelings haven’t vanished.”

Walking closer, Buffy spoke softly, “Do you think it’s any different for me? I am feeling so *jealous* and hurt and lost. I’m scared to hold you in my arms because I’m not sure that I can do it without wanting more.”

“I know,” Angel was having to accept the idea. “You are my light, my sunshine, Buffy. I can’t risk being alone with you that way again.”

“Angelus’ return would not be of the good,” she had to admit. “Obsessive vamps with apocalyptic tendencies tend to make my job a lot harder, especially when they’re my boyfriend.”

Cordelia Chase arrived to find that Buffy had released the vampire from his manacles. They had righted the overturned furniture and were now in the kitchen gathering plates and silverware. The domestic scene made Cordy blink a couple of times before she was able to greet them with her trademark smile.

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite vamp and his Slayer,” she waltzed into the kitchen carting a small cooler and a large brown bag.

“Could you rephrase that?”

“Huh?”

Buffy reminded the other girl with a furious whisper, “I did slay Angel. I sent him to hell.”

“Oh!” Cordelia gasped and looked over to see if Angel was upset too. “I didn’t mean it that way. Geez, can’t a girl even say hello around here?”

Before either of them could respond, Cordelia thrust the brown bag into Buffy’s hands and waved her off in the direction of the kitchen table. “Take this. Chinese food.”

“Aren’t you eating?” Buffy asked.

“In a minute,” nodded Cordelia who took the cooler over to the refrigerator. She started to remove the contents as Angel stepped closer edging around the island counter. “I have to put this blood away.”

“You didn’t go to the butcher,” Angel pointed out. Seven pint-sized bags were all labeled neatly with biohazard signs and typed and crossed according to Rh-factor. “This is human blood. O-positive.”

“You can tell that by the smell?” Cordelia seemed surprised.

“I can read the labels.”

“Oh!”

Angel moved over to stand next to her, leaning on one elbow as she tucked all but one of the bags toward the coldest part of the refrigerator. “Where did you get it, Cordy?”

“I went to Willy’s,” she explained. “Still daylight, so there wasn’t much of a crowd. I called ahead, so he had it ready to go.”

“Blood-to-go?” Buffy was a little queasy at the thought. Human blood. At least it looked to be donated rather than drained. “Eew!”

The vampire was not as concerned over Buffy’s squeamishness as he was with Cordy’s venture into a demon bar to buy him blood. “That was a dangerous and unnecessary risk, Cordelia. Willy’s place is a demon haunt, not the local corner store.”

Rolling her eyes, Cordelia waved her hand in the air as if entering the bar was nothing at all. “Pfft!”

Leaning closer, Angel’s anger was apparent in the golden tint to his normally dark brown eyes. “Don’t risk going there again. Not without me.”

“Whatever.”

“Cordelia.”

“Okay, okay. I promise not to go to Willy’s without an armed escort.” Cordelia told him then sent Buffy a look that indicated he was being overprotective.

Buffy had finished taking the Chinese food cartons out of the bag and was now standing on the other side of the kitchen island. She watched as Cordelia pulled down two glasses and a coffee mug from one of the cabinets. Ordering Angel to put ice and water into the empty glasses, she started to fiddle with the bag of blood, pouring its contents into the large mug.

“What are you doing?” Buffy hadn’t thought to put the pig blood in a mug. It came in a big plastic container.

Opening up the microwave, Cordelia glanced up as she put the mug inside. “Heating the blood.”

“You can use a microwave?” The look on the Slayer’s face suggested she had serious doubts about it. “Never saw you use the one at my house.”

“I was a guest!”

“Only because you invited yourself,” Buffy reminded her with a wry grin.

Poking her tongue out at the girl, Cordelia turned back to her task. Angel had finished filling the water glasses and set them on the table. Now he was back at the island next to Buffy, silently observing the brunette as she stared at the controls with frustration. “It doesn’t have a button for body temperature.”

Coming up behind her, Angel moved his hand around her waist to pull her against him as he reached around to operate the controls of the microwave. “Like this,” he explained as he set the device for two minutes on a low power setting. “The blood will warm without cooking.”

“Hmm! You learn something new everyday.”

“It’s not your typical everyday task,” Angel’s other hand came down to join the other, “unless you are a vampire with a soul.”

He found himself pressing closer and leaning down to inhale the scent of her silky hair. She smelled so damn good! He was getting hard just thinking about wrapping that long sensuous hair around him.

The microwave beeped suddenly, startling them both. Two minutes had elapsed in the time they were standing there. Opening his eyes, Angel reluctantly released the girl in his arms. “Go to the table, Cordy. Your food is getting cold. I’ll just finish up here.”

Turning around to face him, Cordelia nibbled at her lower lip. She wondered what Buffy had told the vampire during her absence. Nothing? Everything? What did he think about having her as his demon’s mate instead of Buffy Summers? “Yeah. Sesame Chicken. My favorite.”

Cordelia admitted to herself that she had lost her appetite for anything except Angel the moment he touched her. Even Buffy seemed distracted, barely picking at her food when normally she ate enough for three teenagers. Slayer metabolism, she knew, but it wasn’t having much of an affect on her hunger tonight.

By the time Angel arrived at the table, he had already finished his blood. Eating in front of them— he wasn’t quite ready to do that. Then the thought made him want to laugh at the irony of it. Just yesterday, he had bitten Cordelia and sucked down precious bits of her blood while Buffy was watching. Then again, that was something other than Cordy’s quipped remark about being his liquid lunch. Though the O-pos from Willy’s had filled his need for food, the call of Cordelia’s blood seemed to sing to him from across the table as he watched her push her food around on her plate.

Angel’s ability as the kitchen clean-up crew far exceeded Cordelia’s interest in ruining her nail polish. When Buffy protested that it was only her and the vampire cleaning up the dishes, Cordelia defended herself. “Hey, I was the chef.”

“Hah!” Buffy dried the plate that Angel handed to her. “Picking up Chinese and trying to warm blood in a microwave is not going to get you recognition as the next Emeril.”

“No, but it keeps me from doing the dishes.” She flashed them a smile while settling onto a tall stool to watch them work. “So. Talk about anything interesting before I arrived?”

“Subtle much?” Buffy rolled her eyes.

“You’d be just as curious, Miss Know It All,” countered the brunette defensively.

Angel handed over the last plate before telling Cordelia that Buffy revealed the entire tale to him. “Sounds like our Willow needs another spanking.”

Gasping, Cordy blushed furiously. “You told Buffy that!”

“I only ever lied to Buffy once— and that was as Angelus,” the vampire claimed. “This is not a time for secrets. I know all about the Scooby Meeting and the new Watcher’s theory about the two of us.”

“The theory where I-I—,” Cordelia couldn’t bring herself to say it aloud.

“You’re my mate.”

“Yeah, that one.”

The vampire stood close to Buffy, she noticed warily. Now listening attentively as Angel spoke, the Slayer’s arm was brushing against his sleeve. He moved his arm, but only to bring his hand upward placing it on the blonde’s shoulder. Cordelia sat up straighter upon the stool, eyes flashing at Angel without recognizing the reason. With their gazes locked, Cordy felt a warm flush melt across her skin.

Sucking her bottom lip into her mouth, she bit down on it just enough to force her resolve not to look over at Buffy Summers. Said resolve lasted no longer than a second or two. It seemed Angel not only had his hand on the girl’s shoulder, but was slowly rubbing it. His wandering fingers found their way up to her neck.

“Mmm!” Buffy seemed to enjoy the spontaneous massage much to her irritation.

Darting back to look at the vampire, Cordelia found that his eyes had never left her. Now her own were slightly dilated. She wanted to crawl on top of the counter to snatch that traitorous hand away from the Slayer’s neck. As her heartbeat paced faster, Cordelia was aware that Angel could hear it.

“Come here, Cordy,” his voice was deep and soft.

Shaking her head, the cheerleader nibbled at the other side of her sore lip. “Comfy here.”

Buffy noticed that Angel seemed to be testing the other girl’s reaction. She didn’t like the feeling that he was using her to make Cordelia Chase jealous. Maybe that wasn’t exactly it, but close enough. Pulling away from the cool touch of his hand, she walked around to the other side of the island.

“If you’re so comfy,” she suggested, “then I guess you aren’t interested in taking a tour of the mansion.”

“Tour?” Cordelia was instantly intrigued.

“Not so much a tour. I figure we need to check things out if Angel is going to be living here on a permanent basis,” she suggested. “This was Angelus’ vampire lair, but there could still be other dangers. Unlocked doors. Dead bodies. No big!”

“Eew! I so could have done without the last part.”

If Buffy was set on searching the mansion, it seemed safe to follow along. Besides, she could keep an eye on her vampire that way.

They started in the basement and worked their way up. Nothing out of the ordinary had been found downstairs. Securing all of the doors, Cordelia suggested to Buffy, “Should this have been done earlier? I mean— geez, you’ve been here off and on for three weeks. Angel has been shackled to the walls. How safe was that? Not.”

“Lecture assimilated,” Buffy drolled. “I had Angel’s health to worry about. Finding open doors wasn’t high on my priority list.”

Angel quietly listened to the girls banter back and forth. Friendly, he realized, even if in an argumentative way. Now on the upper level, they were nearing his suite of rooms. It occurred to the vampire that Buffy had chained him to the wall downstairs and not to his bed. He wondered if there was a reason.

“Whoa!” Cordelia soaked in the luxury of the master suite. “Angelus certainly knew how to decorate.”

“I have good taste,” Angel pointed out.

The brunette wandered around to look at the museum-worthy pieces of art scattered about the place. Cordelia admittedly would have preferred St. Tropez over Italy, but she had to admit that unplanned detour to Europe had given her a very rudimentary appreciation of ancient artworks. Then again, Cordy had always appreciated beautiful things.

Her hazel eyes flickered back to Angel, the corners of her mouth curling slowly upward as he met her gaze. They couldn’t seem to keep their eyes off each other; Cordelia was a little surprised since Buffy Summers was still in the room. The Slayer was going through the motions of checking out the windows.

“All secure here,” she informed them.

“Good,” Angel already knew they would be locked. He had never opened them. There was one thing that puzzled him as he realized, “Someone has been sleeping in my bed.”

Buffy stared at the huge sleigh bed noting that its comforter and pillows were perfectly aligned. Not a crease out of place. With a sheepish glance at the vampire, she realized he could smell her lingering scent on the linen. During his early illness, Buffy stayed here when she wasn’t napping on the couch downstairs. Her curiosity about Angelus’ sleeping quarters forced an early exploration of the mansion. This tour was actually a ruse to get Cordelia Chase upstairs.

Before Angel could move forward with his Three Bears routine and accuse Goldilocks of something else, Buffy grabbed for a nearby doorknob. “Hey, Cordy. What’s in here?”

The minx knew perfectly well what was through that door, Angel realized. Buffy brought them here on purpose just to show Cordelia what was behind door number one. He didn’t know whether or not if this was a good time to panic.

Following casually behind other teenager, Cordelia stopped short upon entering the room. Its beauty stunned her. It was softly feminine without being flowery and gilded rather than gaudy. Before she realized what she was doing, she found herself staring down at the items carefully placed on a vanity. Brushes and combs, perfumes and lotions all lay in orderly fashion.

“Hmm. My favorite,” Cordy picked up the new perfume bottle and misted the air. She set it down to pick up the next one. After doing the same for a bottle of lotion, she practically dropped it back onto the vanity. “They’re all my favorites.”

“Really?” Buffy asked. “That’s a weird coincidence. I didn’t think anyone lived in this creepy old mansion until Angelus came along.”

Cordelia looked for confirmation from Angel who simply shrugged. “A-Angelus bought this stuff?”

“No,” Angel told her. “There wasn’t much buying involved.”

“Oh. So he killed the salesgirl,” she realized. Nibbling on her lip again, Cordelia realized, “This was supposed to be *my* room. Wasn’t it?”

“Yes.”

Geez, could he say that any faster? Cordelia was hoping for a little assisted denial on this one. She should have guessed sooner. “Angel, it’s beautiful. I-I love it. Though I have to wonder how a vampire arranges contract work and interior decorators.”

“You’d be surprised,” he muttered.

Buffy thought about some of the vampires she staked at the mansion all those months ago. “I wouldn’t.”

“No, *you* wouldn’t,” Angel confirmed her suspicions.

The cheerleader continued to hover around the vanity causing Buffy to get frustrated with the fact that she had not continued to explore the room. Did she have to drag her over to the closet? Okay. Grabbing the girl’s hand, Buffy led her across the room to the walk-in closet that was almost as large as the bedroom. Pushing her inside, Buffy flipped on the light.

“Oh, my God!” Cordelia’s mouth was gaping open at the sight of wall to wall designer apparel, casual clothing and— leather. “This is too much, Angel. Even for me.”

Buffy snorted at that one. “I’ll believe that one when I see Mr. Gordo take flight.”

Browsing through the clothes, Cordelia ogled them longingly. Then she grabbed one of the black leather ensembles to show the other teen. Giggling, she pointed out, “Cordy, the dominatrix.”

The vampire watched her with equal parts lust and amusement. “Wanna try it on?”

“Bad vamp!” Cordelia was still giggling until she recognized the intensity in his gaze. He wasn’t really kidding. Glancing down at the silver-buckled corset and black pants, made her wonder just how much of Angelus crept to the surface when Angel made love. Buffy had never shared any details.

“Good guy now, remember?” The question actually caused Cordelia to stagger against the frame of a built-in shoe rack.

She smiled tremulously. “Yeah.”

Cursing silently, Angel realized his mistake. Cordelia was still mourning the loss of his soulless self. It was Angelus who made these arrangements. Angelus had sent his small but growing number of minions all over Sunnydale to make things just right for Cordy. Nothing was too good for his future queen. The obsessed vampire had been pushed over the edge when she rejected him and nearly took the world with him into darkness.

No matter his feelings for Buffy and the love they shared, this connection with Cordelia Chase was undeniable and unchangeable. It was a permanent bond, present in the here and now, one that would gain strength with the passing of time. Angel acknowledged that the idea was in no way unpleasant. His lust for her existed before any spell of Willow’s had a chance to influence Cordelia’s feelings. If he regretted anything, it was that this had not happened purely of her free will.

“Come here, Cordy,” he echoed the same deep tone from the kitchen. The command she had chosen to ignore. This was no still no plea, but Angel needed her to respond. She was a delightful mixture of obstinate and submissive, mostly the former. It was important that Cordelia acknowledge she belonged to him as his mate. Oh, she might think it on some peripheral level, connecting it with Wesley’s theory, but she didn’t really understand the depth of this link between them.

Visibly fighting her body’s urge to react to the order, Cordelia gripped the shoe rack with her unsteady hand. Shaking her head, she repeated her same response. “Comfy here.”

Buffy had moved over to sit on the edge of the bed while the other girl finished browsing through her new wardrobe. She had only realized just who the bedroom and clothes were intended for during dinner tonight. Angelus’ mate— Cordelia. No evil vamp in play now. Just Angel looking sheepish and happy at her obvious delight, but not so pleased with her attempts to ignore their undeniable connection.

“Did anyone ever tell you how disobedient you are?”

“Pfft!” Cordelia rolled her eyes. “My parents. Giles. Xander. Even *you* about a dozen times. I just don’t like being ordered around.”

“Then do it because I’m asking.” He backed out of the closet into the middle of the room.

Dropping her hand to her side, Cordelia walked the length of the closet pausing only a moment before continuing. Stopping directly in front of him, she brushed her palm down the center of his chest, pulling back so her fingertips rasped along the hard muscles of his abdomen before curling into the edge of his shirt. It was impossible to be near Angel and not reach out to touch him.

“I’m here.” Just where I want to be, she acknowledged silently.

Suddenly realizing that Buffy was on her feet and about to leave the room to give them some privacy, Angel turned toward her with dark pleading eyes. “Don’t go, Buffy. This is something you need to hear. W-we need to work this out together, but it is important that you understand about Cordelia and me.”

Buffy wanted to tell him that she didn’t want to hear anything he had to say to Cordelia Chase, the sluttish boyfriend thief. That wasn’t really how she felt, though. The teenager was not to blame for being attracted to Angel— what girl wouldn’t be if they had enough sense to look at him. Cordy had made an effort to avoid the vampire simply because that was what he was. She couldn’t be blamed for Willow’s spell. And Buffy couldn’t blame Willow. It seemed that no one was to blame.

It was just a rather annoying fact.

Crawling onto the bed, Buffy made herself comfortable. This sounded like it was going to take a while and it wasn’t like she had not been on the bed before. “Here and listening.”

Angel stared at the sight of Buffy lounging in his bed. Dragging his eyes away, he turned back to Cordelia who was watching him with a guarded look. “I’m here, Angel. What do you want with me?”

Loaded question, Angel realized as he reached out to touch her cheek. “Such a dangerous thing to say to a horny vampire.”

“W-wh—”

“Is that too honest for you?” Angel asked.

Cordelia gaped at him, her mouth curled into a circle. “Oh! No. It just reminded me of— Angelus. Something he would say. Not you, Mr. Polite Vamp.”

“I *am* Angelus, just with my soul intact,” he stressed. Pulling his hand away from her face, he resolved not to touch her again unless she initiated the contact. “Same thoughts. Same needs. Same desires. They’re just regulated by my conscience. Less of a tendency to become maniacally homicidal.”

“Oh.” Cordelia flushed as she realized he was not the only horny one. There was a damp spot on her panties getting wetter and larger by the minute. Being so close made her head spin with wanting him.

The vampire was aware of her reaction, but did not bait her. “The Watchers told you the truth. Angelus— I claimed you as my mate that night outside Xander’s house. I claimed you as mine.”

“I-I told you yes. I agreed?” She needed confirmation.

“Do you need to ask?” Angel felt a little hurt.

She nodded. “Yes. I mean— no. I guess I don’t need to ask. I-I want you so much, it makes me a little crazy watching you and Buffy just talking together.”

“Willow’s spell?” He gave her an out.

“No!” Then she realized what she was denying. “I mean— I don’t know what I mean, Angel. I thought you were hot before I even knew you were a vampire. Before Willow played hocus-pocus with my head.”

With a grin he asked, “You think I’m hot?”

“Pfft! As if you didn’t know. Lucky thing you can’t look in a mirror. You’d be staring at your reflection all day.” Cordy stuck her hands on he hips and rolled her eyes.

“Lucky that I can’t,” Angel returned flirtatiously. “Gives me more time to look at you.”

There was a sniffle behind them, coming from Buffy who was doing her best to look like his words didn’t affect her. Unfortunately, the little whimper that followed gave it away. “I really don’t want to hear this,” she told Angel. “I’m going.”

“Stay, Buffy,” he needed her to understand. “Please don’t go yet.”

He begged so sweetly with those puppy dog brown eyes. Grumbling, “Okay, okay.”

Cordelia sighed, realizing that this situation was not going to get any easier. Removing her high-heeled shoes, she moved around Angel to hop onto the bed next to Buffy. “Look at us, Angel. Can you honestly say that given a choice, you wouldn’t have us all here like one happy little vampire family?”

“What?!”

“Cordelia!”

“I bet its true,” she nudged Buffy with her elbow. “Mr. *I Am Angelus* says he thinks the same things he always did. Well that is exactly what Angelus would be thinking if he was in charge of that body.”

Buffy chimed in, “You mean except for the fact that Angelus wanted to kill me.”

“Except for that,” Cordelia nodded in agreement. Spike and Dru seemed to think so.”

While Angel was struggling for a response, Buffy asked about the vampires. “Spike and Dru told you that Angelus would— would want some sort of threesome? Oh, God! They were speaking from experience, weren’t they?”

“Yeah. I read all about it in the Watcher’s Diaries. Scary sexy vamp stuff.”

Buffy remembered that Cordelia borrowed the old books to discover all that she could about Angel’s past. That was even before Angelus came along. Before Willow’s spell.

Angel realized that those books would reveal everything about his darkest days as part of the Scourge of Europe. She didn’t seem to be flinching in reaction to what she had read there, unless that was a result of Willow’s magick. His knees were now at the edge of the bed.

“Are you hinting at something, Cordy? Or are you trying to scare Buffy away?”

Nibbling on her lip, Cordelia wasn’t certain. “I told Buffy that I would help the two of you. Angel, your soul is only secure as long as I am around. I told Buffy that I would play chaperone. Like double-dating, except with the three of us.”

“Dating,” Angel parroted the word. The image in his head of Buffy and Cordelia naked, tangled in the sheets of his bed, one on either side of him, was so graphic it seemed as genuine as the reality before him. That insipid word certainly didn’t cover it.

“If that’s what you want,” Cordelia sounded uncertain. “If that’s what it will take.”

Lost in thought, Angel muttered, “What it will take for what?”

“To be near you.”

Buffy frowned. That should have been her line. She was the one who needed to beg for Angel’s attention, not Cordelia. Not his *mate*. Somehow, the facts had not sunken into the cheerleader’s brain, even after Wesley and Giles provided the low-down.

Then Angel was kneeling on the bed, infuriated by the idea that Cordelia Chase would feel unworthy of his claim. Think he would not want her. By all the powers, he wanted her now until the end of time. Grasping her shoulders, he demanded a response asking, “Is that what you think? That you’ll have to beg for attention? Not a second has gone by since you walked in the door tonight that I haven’t craved to have you underneath me, to be inside you surrounded by your warmth.”

Denial rang like a clear bell in her head. Those words were not meant for her. They were meant for, “Buffy—”

“Cordy, I can’t pretend that I don’t want Buffy. I do,” he admitted adamantly. “Do I want the three of us here together—?”

Angel seemed to search for the right words, and then used her own to make a point. “If that is what it takes to be near you— both of you. Maybe it’s not the smartest thing. Or even the right thing. But it may be the only thing.”

Even as his words provided food for thought, Cordelia knew he was right. Willow’s little soul-altering spell made this Buffy and Angel’s only option. It seemed apparent that the vampire’s mind was already made up. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t juggled two women before according to those Watcher entries— not to mention adding Spike into the mix.

On the bed, Buffy was close to hyperventilating at the thought that she might lose Angel or end up in an even more bizarre relationship.

“The truth is that it is not up to Buffy or even up to me whether she still has a place in my life.” Angel solemnly explained. “That decision is not mine. It’s yours.”

That didn’t make sense.

“Yours,” he repeated. “Being a vampire’s mate is about belonging, bonding and blood. It can be about sharing, but only with the consent of the other. This is not about what I want from you or ask for or take from you, Cordelia. You get the same privileges.”

Surprised, she gave a tiny gasp, “I do?”

He nodded. “What is it you want, Cordy?”

“You,” she answered simply. “Now.”

Grasping his shirt with both hands, Cordelia pulled Angel close to press her lips against his. Their heated gasps and moans were interspersed by dancing movements of their lips and tongues melding together in a series of wild kisses.

“Want— you too, baby,” he panted the words in between each moist kiss.

Angel’s hands curled around both cheeks of her toned buttocks, squeezing softly and leading her hips into the proof of his arousal. The fingers of those hands worked at the edge of her miniskirt slowly edging it up until it exposed the bare skin underneath. His hips jerked hard into hers creating friction even as he gasped out her name at the feel of her smooth flesh in his hands. “Cordy!”

Buffy’s eyes widened with surprise. One second they were discussing the serious nature of the situation. The next Angel’s fingers were dipping into the edge of Cordelia’s thong panties to tease the flesh in between her thighs. She couldn’t seem to move, caught up in the intensity of the moment. Just like last night— watching them.

Ripping at the vampire’s shirt, Cordelia sent buttons flying. Now she was nipping at his flat brown nipples with her ivory teeth while her hips rotated in a tiny circle. Buffy gave a short gasp and then held her breath watching Angel’s fingers move in and out beneath the silk barrier of the thong. Seeing the clear moisture gather heavily on his long fingers in a glistening coat, the blonde felt a throbbing ache at her own center.

“Mmm! Angel, so good,” Cordelia gasped into his ear. “Make me cum.”

Denying her an easy orgasm, the vampire removed his fingers, instantly moving them to his mouth, sucking them and their sticky glaze. The brunette watched the movements of his tongue lapping up her essence, hazel eyes intent upon his gaze as it fixed on hers. He pressed his equally sticky thumb across her lips, and then teased, “So soon?”

Was this voyeurism? Buffy had no interest at all in the way that Angel’s pants had tented in that obvious way. Nope! Not interested. Not in the way his free hand curled around the band of Cordelia’s panties to tear them away. A growl of satisfaction accompanied the rip as it sounded, drowning out the Slayer’s soft-throated reaction.

Taking the vampire’s thumb into her mouth, Cordelia let her tongue rasp down the digit until it was completely enclosed. The tip of her tongue rubbed across the mound of his thumb. Holding his wrist, she moved his thumb out of her mouth, pressing a kiss across the center of his palm. The kiss was followed by the pressure of her teeth as Cordelia playfully bit down drawing a surprised sound from the vampire.

So much for not being a biter! Buffy hadn’t budged from her spot, frozen with interest, arousal and fear. This was so *not* the evening she had in mind.

The May Queen currently nibbled her way past Angel’s manly boob muscles to bury her tongue in his navel. Yanking Cordelia up to his mouth, the vampire was kissing her again while his swift hands quickly divested the cheerleader of her clothes. The tiny midriff top was the first to go, followed by the matching silk bra. As the firm globes appeared, it was as if Angel paused in worship.

“Mine,” with whispered wonder his entire being focused on the feminine beauty of her bare breasts.

Buffy gripped the bed covers, letting out a little gasp as the vampire’s hands moved up to cup Cordelia’s aroused breasts, testing their weight with his hands. His thumbs brushed against them, barely whispering across the fragile flesh of the areolas. With only a soft touch along the undersides of each pointed nipple, he evoked a strangled cry from the young woman in his arms.

“Angel— Angel!”

“So beautiful,” the vampire presses a kiss to the top curve of each breast.

Buffy glanced down at her own breasts, covered by the layer of her clothes. She had seen Cordelia’s naked breasts before during gym class and that one time in her own bathroom and was not overawed at their size, shape or form. Such bouncy boobs were a better asset for a cheerleader than a Slayer. Great for distraction, but not of the good with the grabby demons. They were just girl parts. Her own were smaller, but perky and Angel seemed to enjoy them quite a bit the one time they were together.

The slight movement of her blond head caught Cordelia’s attention as she fumbled with Angel’s belt buckle. Buffy! Oh, God! She had forgotten the girl was even there. Oh shit! What now?

“Buffy,” the brunette panted her name.

Cordelia’s eyes darted up to Angel who was watching her with a quiet intensity. This was the moment, she realized— the moment where she dug down to her inner bitch and told the blond Slayer to get the hell out of her bed and away from her mate. A warm curl of satisfaction spread throughout her body at the thought of booting Buffy Summers from the mansion.

A determined glint appeared in her hazel eyes as Cordelia pressed her hands back up the expanse of hard chest to bury her fingers in his short brown hair. Closing in and pressing breast to chest, she covered Angel’s mouth in another passionate kiss. Only upon feeling his arms encircle her again did Cordy lift her mouth away to form the word, “Mine.”

“Yours,” he acknowledged with a burst of pure satisfaction at her claim.

They were both still on their knees as Cordelia pulled off Angel’s shirt dropping it to the floor then raked her nails softly down to the belt at his trim waist. It was gone in seconds. Unbuttoning his pants, Cordy pushed one hand inside to run the length of his erection and cup his balls. Never leaving his gaze, her eyes spoke of her need as she repeated the word that bound them together. “Mine.”

Angel’s eyes shuddered closed as she clasped him in her warm hand, but opened again to answer the question in her eyes. There was truth in his voice no doubt that even that part of him belonged to her. “Yes, Cordy. Yours.”

Her hand continued to massage his erection, while the other one found its way up to the back of his head, yanking on his hair. Shock coursed through him as Angel realized what Cordelia wanted. A frenzy of soft sucking kisses were pressed across his throat. He felt his head drop back in anticipation just as her blunt teeth bit down hard across his flesh. It drew blood, just a small amount, but enough to cover her tongue with its coppery taste.

“Oh, my God!” Buffy shrieked. “Cordy, are you insane?”

Neither Cordelia nor Angel seemed to hear the Slayer’s reaction as the vampire let out a howl of pleasure. Then his orgasm came spurting forth, powerful and uncontrollable as a raging flood. Meeting his amber gaze, she lifted her fluid soaked fingers to her mouth to lap them clean.

“Mine,” Cordelia purred in pleasure at the fiercely aroused look on Angel’s face.

Buffy was sitting next to them clutching one of the pillows. Fascination and horror both appeared on her frozen face as she finally realized what had just happened. Cordelia had staked her claim on Angel— in vamp fashion which left Buffy in some doubt of any kind of hope. Angel himself appeared overwhelmed by the passionate and possessive way his mate confirmed their connection.

Her heart was pounding in her chest as Buffy slipped over to the edge of the bed planning to escape. Cordelia’s show of— ownership— acknowledged by Angel would certainly gain her nothing. What Buffy just witnessed frightened her to the core, rousing up all of her Slayer instincts. Angel— oh, god! Angel really was a vampire with all of those vamp desires and traits. She pretended that it wasn’t so for so long that she identified Angelus as a different person, a demon totally separated from the man she loved.

“A-Angel?” Near to sobbing his name, Buffy gazed at the pair through watery eyes. He said nothing to her. Nothing. Just looked from her back to the naked vampire wannabe in his arms.

Cordelia heard the soft sniffle of the dreaded Cry Buffy, a creature whose unique ability was to turn its arch-nemeses into obsessive lunatics and rivals into devoted pals. Looking back at Angel, she realized the vampire’s attention had wandered over to that side of the bed too. Catching his guilty gaze, Cordelia realized that he had been so caught up in her that he forgot about the girl of his dreams sitting only inches away. Now edging off of the bed, Buffy waited for Angel to say something, anything— to reject Cordelia’s claim.

It was then that Cordelia realized it wasn’t going to happen. That Angel expertly led her into claiming him in front of his girlfriend. To make both of them acknowledge that the claim— the connection— existed. The cheerleader felt a burst of happiness that Angel really wanted her and accepted her as his mate, but she knew that this silence was more than just silence.

It was the noisiest silence Cordelia Chase had ever heard. She didn’t need to read minds to recognize the questions pouring from Angel’s eyes, didn’t need to hear the words to understand them. It was all too obvious what he was thinking.

“I’m yours, Cordelia,” she imagined him saying, “but Buffy is mine. I want her here.”

Was it really her decision? Her say whether Buffy got to play happy families with Angel? Certainly, it made sense. There could be no ‘Buffy and Angel Show’ without Cordelia’s presence according to the tweaked spell. Being selfish, she could keep the vampire all to herself— that is what she *really* wanted, but the truth was Angel would never be truly happy with her unless Buffy was still part of his life.

“What are you waiting for, Summers?” Cordelia looked at her like she was late for a class assignment. “Help me take off his shoes. Geez, do I have to do everything?”

“No.” Buffy wasn’t certain what she was saying. Then she mumbled something under her breath.

Cordelia had curled into the waistband of Angel’s black pants. “I didn’t get that. Is that a response to the helping or the participating?”

“Uh!”

“Buffy, if this is something you don’t want to do,” Angel told her gently, “I understand. It isn’t necessary to have sex with us. We can be platonic friends if you want. We can try.”

“Can we?” Buffy’s lip trembled. “It hurts me to see this— Cordelia naked in your arms. I want that to be me, but it can’t be unless she is here too.”

Angel’s arms were around the brunette, holding her close. A large hand absently thumbed the erect nipple of one breast as he spoke. “Choose, Buffy. Now or tomorrow. Stay or go. The decision is yours if you want us. I say us, because Cordelia has invited you into our bed for my sake— and yours.”

“Cordy, do you really want me here?” Buffy asked blatantly.

“Honestly, no. I’m greedy and I like it that way,” Cordy admitted. Adding, “Because I’m greedy, I want all of my friends to be happy so I’m greedy about happiness too. If the only way is to be happy together, then I say we give it a try.”

“I-I don’t know.” Joyce Summers had not raised her little girl for this kind of thing. Then again, she hadn’t raised her to be a vampire slayer in love with a vampire. Not to mention her unknown slayer expiration date.

Brushing a thumb against her smooth cheek and curling his fingers into silky blonde hair, Angel. “If you want to go, Buffy, we won’t stop you. I promise my feelings for you will not change overnight. As long as you realize that as Cordelia’s mate, I deny her nothing. My body, blood and soul are hers.”

“Yeah,” Buffy’s lip quivered. “I saw.”

A fat tear glistened at the corner of her eye before dripping to her cheek. Cordelia wiped it away. “Don’t be a Cry Buffy. They’re just words. Angel still loves you.”

“What do *you* want, Angel?” the blonde asked.

“Stay,” he whispered as he reached for her hand.

“O-okay.”

Both Cordelia and Angel smiled at her decision. The blond teenager moved closer to help undress the vampire. Removing his shoes and socks, Buffy let them drop to the floor. The other girl was having a fun time with the removal of his pants. “My, my, my! Buffy, what do we have here? Someone actually seems to be wearing underwear— boxers. Angelus actually went commando.”

“Saves on the laundry,” dead-panned Angel.

Before Cordelia could strip away his last remaining garment, Angel took control of the situation. Though experience with Angelus had given Cordelia a very good idea about what she liked when it came to sex, she had barely touched the tip of the iceberg that was the breadth of his experience with women. Buffy’s one virginal night with him certainly had not prepared her for what would happen in this bed.

Dealing with two females like Darla and Dru, not to mention the additional variable of Spike, gave him a unique perspective on the potentials of this relationship. There was only one problem that Angel could foresee— human emotions. Vampires did not usually experience jealousy over purely sexual romps unless they breached the bounds of ritual relationships. Especially if it involved the exchange of blood. Cordelia seemed to sense part of that; she had to have done to claim him with the same vampiric ritual he followed in claiming her. Buffy would neither know nor understand it.

Whatever happened here, Angel knew that he needed to control his vampire instincts. He had to be cautious no matter what Cordelia started asking for. Angelus had been leading her toward the type of sexual encounters that his souled self would not condone quickly. The kind that contained a level of bloodplay that might spark a dangerous conflict with his other lover— the Slayer. The claim itself already broached that dangerous possibility.

An impish expression came over Cordelia’s face as she reached for Angel’s boxers. She wanted that last barrier gone. She knew all too well what lay hard and hidden beneath the layer of silk. Pushing her hand aside, Angel told her, “Relax. Someone else here is a lot less naked than we are.”

“Me?” Buffy gulped as if the answer was not obvious.

Getting bare in front of Angel was a tantalizing if naughty idea, but doing so in front of Cordelia Chase and Angel gave her an entirely different feeling. Buffy had always been confident of the near-perfection of her compact little body. Until the thought of having to compare it naked against the undeniable soft curves, firm angles and luscious ripe quality that Cordelia possessed.

“She is wearing a lot of clothes,” Cordy quipped turning back to the vampire. She was far more interested in his last shred of clothing. “I’m naked. You should be naked too.”

Sitting up, Angel decided that this needed a different approach. Though Cordelia’s claim secured her rights, it did not put her in charge— unless Angel wanted it that way. While that would definitely be worth exploring, this was not the time. Simplicity was the key.

One hand caressed each beautiful feminine face. So different, he thought in amazement that two unique spirits could be his. “Just kiss me.”

Alternating between them, Angel pressed soft kisses against their lips. One first and then the other. Cordelia was already aroused beyond the point where that brief caress built her excitement. She kept trying to encourage more, but each time she attempted to deepen the kiss, to use her tongue, to get him to open up to her— he transferred his attention back to Buffy. The blonde was quickly catching up to her level, now sounding out little moans of pleasure.

Cordelia’s growing frustration was short-lived as Angel’s kisses became longer, deeper and more passionate. His capable hands had begun their explorations too. Tender, almost imperceptible touches evoked soft whimpers and aroused their senses. “Angel. Please let me touch you.”

“Shh, baby” Angel whispered against Cordelia’s lips. “Have a little patience.”

Clinging to his lips, she let out a shaky gasp. Angelus used that term, calling her babe or baby. His pet name for Cordelia obviously meant more to her that she had realized. Even though he leaned away to cover Buffy’s mouth in another series of devastating kisses, she found her body automatically following his.

Her hot skin pressed up against his cool flesh. She ran a hand over the intricate design of his tattoo even as her tongue lapped at the whorls of his ear. “Want you.”

While Angel made no verbal response, the hand that roamed her skin moved up toward her neck, his thumb strumming against her pulse. As the vampire moved back to Cordy again, his kisses trailed down to her throat. Letting out a loud pant, Cordelia instantly tilted her head back to give him better access causing her lush hair to tumble down her bare back.

Through her haze of lust, Buffy wondered if he would use his fangs on the other girl with her in the bed. After all, he was already the one with the bitten neck, so what was going to stop it from happening? Cordelia distracted him again as her hands instantly were at the waistband of his boxers again, stealing her fingers inside to take hold of his burgeoning flesh. Angel had done most of the touching when they were together on the night of her birthday and Buffy wondered how he would feel.

Having told Cordelia to be patient, Angel gasped her wrist and tightened around it so that she released his erect penis. Tugging her hand out of his black boxers, Angel twisted her arm behind her back, holding it less tightly, but with a firm grip.

Infuriated by this move, Cordy grasped his shoulder to pull herself closer. Meeting his lustful gaze for an instant, she leaned in to bite playfully at his earlobe, nearly drawing blood. Releasing her wrist, he used his free hand to deliver a stinging slap to her bottom. “Wait your turn, tigress!”

The interruption had Buffy glaring at the other teen. Angel was right; it was her turn for touches and kisses. Not fair. She clasped his face with both hands, turning him to meet her mouth as she plastered him with the hottest wet kiss she could conjure. “Angel. Angel I need you, too!”

Buffy’s clothes created a barrier that Angel no longer wanted to deal with. Leaning back on the bed, he stretched his tall frame out positioning his legs between them. Cordelia was quick to straddle his legs, moving up to him on her knees. Taking her curvaceously slim hips in hand, Angel refused to let her settle herself on his groin, stopping her.

“No more,” Angel announced firmly, “until Buffy loses the clothes.”

Momentary panic turned to determination. Cordy hopped over to the other side of Angel in order to get better access to the Slayer’s clothes. Buffy had her shoes and socks off in a flash. As she worked the snap and zipper on her hip-hugging pants, Cordelia was tugging at her top, finally managing to get the other girl to raise her arms so she could pull it over her head. As soon as that was gone, Cordy unclipped the front closure of Buffy’s cotton bra, the backs of her hands accidentally brushing against hard rosebud nipples.

Buffy shuddered with pleasure at the accidental touch, pausing in her struggle to remove her jeans. It was such a shock that her hands fell away from her unbuttoned pants to hang at her side as she watched Cordelia’s motions with glazed eyes. The brunette was giving up a lot to let Angel be with her. Buffy doubted that she would ever be so generous. She knew this would never happen if the situation was reversed.

As Cordelia’s hands moved into her pants to slide off the flowered panties at the same time, there was a pause when Buffy reached up to touch her face. The startled cheerleader froze with her hands curving against bare flesh as the blonde leaned close to press a soft kiss against her lips. As Buffy shifted away, Cordelia licked at her lips causing the girl to open her mouth with a tiny moan. Angel’s surprise outmatched their own; he noted that his fully erect penis was hard and huge now extending beyond the length of his boxers. He gripped himself, running one hand along his length, his hips jerking involuntarily upward. Taking his hand away, the vampire ripped the boxers from his body to take a firmer hold on his tumescent member.

“Cordelia,” he called out to his distracted mate. Having finally removed the last bit of Buffy’s clothes, she turned back to watch him stroke himself. Instantly forgetting the sweet thank-you-for-letting-me-get-horny-with-your-vampire kisses, Cordy crawled up next to Angel on her hands and knees pausing so she gazed directly down at what he was doing.

“What is it you want, baby?” She turned the tables on him. “Are we a little too patient for you. Can’t deal with what you were seeing? Your Buffy’s sweet vanilla kisses make me want a little more.”

Blushing at what she had done, Buffy started looking nervous again until Cordy reached back to take her hand. Sending her a confident grin, Cordelia placed the hand in hers on Angel’s fisted erection. Glancing up at him, she asked, “Can we?”

Nodding, Angel let go of his erection and flipped Cordelia around to straddle his face in a sixty-nine position. He had his tongue buried inside her before she could even tell Buffy what their task would be.

“Oh! Angel, yes. Mmm. Mmm. Uh! Oh, *please* keep doing that.”

Buffy’s night with Angel might be described as vanilla sweet as the kisses she shared with Cordelia. Nothing startling or out of the ordinary. His kisses across her skin were everywhere that night, but he had not used his tongue t-to— go down on her like he was doing to Cordy. She imagined that a guy who didn’t need to breathe might be very good at that, especially if he’d had over two hundred years of practice.

Recovering from the initial sensation of the cool tongue against her heated swollen flesh, Cordelia found Buffy watching the pleasure shine out of her hazel eyes. “Looks like I get to play teacher,” she grinned conspiratorially then winked. “Buffy, you’re my student.”

“And this,” Cordelia glanced downward with a leer, “is the teacher’s pet.”

Raising an eyebrow, Buffy watched silently as Cordelia’s hand covered her own making the blonde recall what she was holding in her hand. The sight and sound of pleasure was distracting as the other girl guided her hand up and down the huge shaft.

“What’s the lesson?” quipped Buffy catching on.

“Ten Easy Steps to Pleasing Your Vampire.” Then Cordelia yelped as Angel nibbled with his blunt teeth on the flesh of her inner thigh. “Okay, okay! Hint taken.”

The blond Slayer was inexperienced, not ignorant. She knew what Cordelia was about to do to Angel. Though she wondered how it would happen. He was big. Really big. Where some body parts stretched to accommodate that size, others would not. Maybe she had the wrong idea about how the whole thing happened.

Cordelia demonstrated her recently acquired skills using her hands and mouth to tease Angel to a point where he was growling at her to get on with it. Darting her eyes up at the observing Slayer, Cordy asked, “Wanna try?”

There was no hesitation present as Buffy Summers took over Cordelia’s task. Doing as the other girl instructed, Buffy used both her hands, lips and tongue to torment the vamp. Cordelia was distracted again as Angel started using his fingers in addition to his tongue. Pumping three fingers into her and using his mouth against the erect bundle of nerves, Angel caused shuddering waves of pleasure. He didn’t stop with the fingers, bringing her to another climax within a minute of the last.

Then Buffy’s efforts paid off resulting in the surprising whitewashing of her face with the vampire’s semen. It spurted across her face, neck and chest as Buffy released his penis in reaction to the sudden event. Crawling down to the stunned blonde, Cordelia let out a tiny mewl of delight.

“Mm!” Taking Buffy by the hair, she pulled her close then proceeded to lap up the sticky fluid from her face and neck. Then Cordy lifted her mouth to Buffy’s letting the other girl get a taste of what she missed.

Still hard, Angel caught Cordelia’s hips thrusting himself to the hilt. Watching his mate kiss his girlfriend was a complete turn-on for the vampire. Cordy straightened out of the kiss to lift herself in rhythmic fashion up and down on the stiff member buried inside her. Buffy followed, realizing that she wasn’t done with the brunette. Cordy had been lapping at her skin, but had not finished.

“I’m still messy,” she told the cheerleader. The only fluid left was dotted across her chest. “Clean it up.”

Pausing on her wild ride, Cordelia leaned over to kiss away the remaining fluid. There was one milky spurt on her left breast; Cordelia brushed her hand along the edge of the small breast and then opened her mouth to let her flat tongue dart over the pointed nipple. Then it curled around it, sucking it softly into her warm mouth. When Buffy moaned at the sensation, Cordelia once again let Angel distract her as his hips pinioned her in short sharp upward thrusts. Pressing a final kiss onto Cordelia’s plump lips, Buffy crawled around the bed to Angel, who promptly dragged her across his chest. She was tiny enough that she fit perfectly while Cordelia continued to ride Angel behind her.

Buffy sighed into Angel’s mouth. This was where she wanted to be— lost in his eyes and touch. His hands were on the curves of her face, fingers tucking wisps of silk blond hair behind her ears. The kissing started again. Geez, they were good at that together. Buffy wondered what else they might be good at with a little more practice.

While managing to keep up with the constant roll of his hips in a mind-numbing rhythm, giving Cordelia a slow spiraling ride, Angel had always been good at multitasking. Hands roamed across the Slayer’s honeyed skin pausing to elicit gasps of pleasure in the spots he had already discovered. He raised Buffy up off of his chest, just enough to bring her breasts up to his lips, teasing them with the rasp of his cheek against her pointed nipples.

“Angel!” Her gasp came as the vampire opened his mouth over her breast, flicking her with his tongue.

The taste of her skin was a delicious mix of Buffy’s vanilla scent and traces of Cordelia’s saliva along with the barest remainder of his own semen. Angel paused for an instant to commit their combined taste to memory. Then his strong arms pulled her up so that she sat high across his chest. Meeting her gaze briefly, his mouth quirked into a mischievous one-sided smile.

“Show me, Buffy,” he commanded softly as one thumb trailed through the light brownish curls covering the plump flesh of her womanhood. “Show me how you touch yourself.”

Giving him a startled look, Buffy had to wonder, how did he know she touched herself? Was there a sign on her forehead? Buffy Summers gets herself off after long nights of slayage— she giggled inwardly at the thought. Patrolling always made her kinda hungry and horny. Having Angel around had only fired up her senses. Cold showers did nothing to quell her senses and Buffy found that a little masturbation was the only thing helping her get to sleep at night.

“Maybe you’ve seen enough, already,” Buffy hinted with a little glare. “Been spying at my window? Or was it Angelus?”

The vampire laughed, causing her to rock against his chest leaving a moist patch behind. “You need to learn to keep your window blinds down if you don’t want creatures of the night peering in at you.”

“Maybe I’m an exhibitionist.”

“Prove it!”

So she did, much to her own surprise. Buffy’s fingers were still working furiously at her own tender flesh when she heard Cordelia screaming Angel’s name in heady pleasure. It sent her over the edge, quaking her body with its sweet release.

“Mmm! That was good,” her dilated eyes radiated passion, “but I want more.”

“You’ll get it,” Angel promised.

Cordelia crawled up the side of the mattress, flopping down in contentment next to Angel and Buffy. “I came so hard. Need a nap now.”

“Not so fast,” Angel switched positions with Buffy placing her beneath him as he rose up on his knees, straddling her hips. “We’re going to have to work on your stamina in bed.”

“Obviously *so* not an issue with you,” Cordelia grinned as she glanced down at his still rigid member.

With Angel kneeling above her, Buffy found herself staring straight at the vampire’s pale arousal as it hung heavily erect between his legs. It glistened with Cordelia’s sticky fluids. While that initially gave her a feeling of— eew!— she also recognized that she no longer cared. She wanted Angel. Wanted his hardness inside her.

“The better to—,” Angel broke off to grin wickedly. “But then it’s not your turn, is it my wild tigress?”

Replete with her pleasure, Cordelia was too satisfied to protest much. Besides, Angel was right. It wasn’t her turn. Greedy Cordy! Doesn’t really like to share what’s hers. Too late to change her mind now with Angel moving himself between the blonde’s flexible legs, she figured, even if she wanted to do so.

There must have been something showing in her eyes. Angel paused on the threshold of penetration, his large hands pressing down on the back of Buffy’s thighs. It mirrored his own fear. What if— what if this theory meant nothing? What if Cordelia’s presence did not stop the loss of his soul? The final test was before them.

Cordelia reached up to him, seeing the torment in his eyes. Kneeling, she cupped his face, whispering words of encouragement into his ear. “I’m here, baby. Just do it. Take what you want.”

Similar words to those she used last night. Only this time they were not just about him, but also about Buffy. Cordelia’s warm breath in his ear and her hands on his flesh, Angel thrust forward into the tight sheath that awaited him. Buffy was mumbling incoherently at this point as he stretched her vaginal walls with his own hard flesh. “So good, so good,” she chanted in between the moans and shudders of pleasure.

“Tight— yeah!” Angel had to agree as the Slayer’s inner muscles tightened around him in a way few mortals ever could.

Buffy’s hands were thrown over her head on the pillow, her eyes closed tight as she lost herself in the sensations. Her legs fell to the sides when Angel gripped her hips pistoning into her with angled pressure against her cervix. Then his hands fell away altogether as he reached over to Cordelia, pulling her up and across Buffy’s undulating hips. This kept the Slayer in place and left the vampire’s hands free to continue pleasuring his mate.

Hazel eyes were locked on the sight below where Angel and Buffy came together. Cordy panted lustfully at the thrusting, bucking and merging of male and female. Lifting her gaze at the tilting of her chin by Angel’s not-quite gentle fingers, Cordelia recognized the dark amber of his eyes as a sign.

Lifting away her hair, Angel pressed hot wet kisses across her throat. His hands moved to cup her breasts and descended to her lower spine to caress the sun tattoo he loved to kiss. Buffy sounded like she was getting close, whimpering. Her hands were now moving from her own breasts to the rounded globes of Cordelia’s ass rotating downward with each up-thrust of Buffy’s hips toward Angel.

Cordelia curled her arms around Angel’s back, raking her fingernails across his shoulders as he continued to lave the scabs over his mark. Soon, the wound opened, dribbling blood onto her neck. Angel looked to her for permission and she gave it with the silent exposure of her throat.

Biting down eagerly, Angel lapped at his mate’s blood growling at the ultimate pleasure of tasting Cordelia and keeping his fangs buried in her throat as he thrust into Buffy. This double penetration of fangs and penis trounced his last shred of control. Shuddering with the power of his orgasm, he called out their names with a predator’s gleam in his eyes. Too damn good!

“Angel!” The cry signaled the release of Buffy’s intense orgasm as she shuddered around him. “It— it's happening!”

She continued to grind her hips against his until the last mini-orgasm nearly caused her to lose consciousness. Fighting to keep her eyes open, Buffy saw Angel lapping at the fang marks on Cordelia’s throat. The wounded flesh already appeared to be closing from his special ministrations. Raising his head from her neck, Angel kissed his mate with a tender smooch of his lips against hers before lifting her off of Buffy. Reverting to his human face, Angel pulled out of Buffy, but leaned down to whisper in her ear.

“I’m glad you stayed.”

With a satisfied purr, Buffy’s mouth curved into a smile as she stretched beneath him. “Me too.”

He touched his lips to her forehead and then to each sleepy eyelid. “Close your eyes, Buffy. Just kiss me.”

His words seemed to make everything complete as she titled her head into his kiss. They echoed from the depths of her greatest pain to the promise of something more. Breaking their kiss, Angel watched as his blond lover drifted off to sleep. Cordelia too seemed to be having a hard time clinging to consciousness. Her fingers trailed along the outline of Angel’s tattoo until he nudged her to scoot over so he could lie down between them.

Cordelia positioned herself comfortably in the crook of his arm, her head resting on his chest. Holding her close, Angel met her sleepy gaze as she sighed. “I love you, Angel.”

Before Angel could respond, the cheerleader was asleep in his arms. Cordelia was his mate, but did he love her? The feelings ran deep, certainly. Deeper than any he had ever felt with the exception of his love for Buffy Summers. They were connected by soul, sex and blood. Desire and obsession entered the mix long ago. But love?

He toyed with the silken honey strands of Buffy’s hair. The Slayer looked so innocent in her sleep despite the corruption of that innocence in this bed. He wanted her still. Just as he wanted Cordelia— too much. They were sated for the moment, tangled in the sheets at his side just like he pictured them in his fantasy.

With a smile on his handsome face, Angel closed his eyes and slept the unmoving restful sleep of the undead.
 

Lower being, this convergence generates alarm amongst the Powers that Be. Meddling with souls is not permissible for creatures such as you. Order’s path may now be broken. This triad of the Chosen One, Warrior and Seer-to-Be was not intended to come to pass. A cohesive bond now exists between them, drawing them closer, driving others away. It is not to be borne. Thus, the forces of Order will now call upon the childe of chaos to serve as its hand of fate.
 

Screeching to a halt, the classic 1958 Dodge Desoto FireFlite left the broken 'Welcome to Sunnydale' sign in its wake. As the driver side door opened, a nearly empty liquor bottle toppled out, smashing into pieces on the pavement. Spike slid off of his seat hitting the street flat on his back on top of the broken glass, drunk out of his mind.

Lifting his head unsteadily, the blond vampire attempted to raise himself onto his elbows. Taking a look around, he chuckled, “Home, sweet— home.”
 

The pending apocalypse must come to pass as preordained. The triangle must be broken before Chaos reigns in Sunnydale. Should it continue, the Hellmouth will open and the Slayer will fall. The future Seer will lose her humanity and the Warrior will never prove himself a champion to our cause.

Part 9

 The pending apocalypse must come to pass as preordained. The triangle must be broken before Chaos reigns in Sunnydale. Should it continue, the Hellmouth will open and the Slayer will fall. The future Seer will lose her humanity and the Warrior will never prove himself a champion to our cause.
 

Angel sat in his study, feet propped up on the desk. He was reading one of the old first editions from his collections. Its tone echoed his usual dark brooding, but that seemed to have passed during these past months with Buffy and Cordelia. Something akin to true happiness edged at his thoughts on a frequent basis.

The ever observant Watchers kept a close eye on Cordelia, constantly looking for bite marks and bruises, pain and pallor. Willow’s spell created a connection where abstention was not a likely possibility. Other than a new penchant for silk scarves, which quickly caught on at Sunnydale High as the latest fashion trend, Queen C appeared healthy and happy.

He mused that the two Brits should have looked to their own Slayer, but they seemed to be grateful that Buffy had not abandoned the Hellmouth again. The expected mourning period over the loss of her vampire boyfriend to Cordelia Chase came and went so fast that neither Watcher was certain it existed. If, in the backs of their busy minds, they were suspicious of the blooming friendship between the two girls and the looks they sent in Angel’s direction, both remained in a state of denial.

Turning the page on his novel, Angel’s ears perked up at the almost imperceptible sound of footsteps crossing the living room. Then he felt a presence in the mansion, one that he should have sensed long before now.

“Hello, Peaches!” Spike leant against the doorframe. “Miss me?”

As both of his women were currently at Willow’s house and not at the mansion, Angel remained a picture of relaxation. “Can’t say that I’ve given your absence much thought.”

Spike clasped his chest with one black-nailed hand, looking completely hurt and mocking his grandsire with an acerbic response. When it did not draw Angel into an argument, Spike opted for another question. “So when did you get the blasted soul back? Thought you’d gotten rid of that thing.”

Closing his book, Angel saw that he wasn’t going to get anymore reading done today. “I was re-cursed— by Willow Rosenberg.”

“That one of the Slayers pals? The cute little redhead. Yeah, I remember her now.” Spike hadn’t given the chit much of a look-see at the time what with other distractions around. “You saying she’s a witch? Did you rip out her throat or can I do it for you?”

Angel rolled his eyes in a perfect imitation of his mate. “Willow is under my protection.”

“What?” Spike sauntered further into the room. “Another pet? Don’t know what’s come over you Angelus. Even without the soul, you went all wonky on us. Obsessing over that hot bitch of a cheerleader. Least the world didn’t end, though you gave it your best shot.”

A growl started deep in Angel’s chest at the reference to Cordelia, rising louder until it finally caught Spike’s attention. The blond vamp noted his grandsire’s irritation, but did not place the cause, figuring that his presence alone might generate it. Plunking himself down in a leather chair, Spike brought his dusty black-booted feet up to the top of the desk mimicking Angel’s position.

“Comfy,” Spike looked it. “Figured that the mansion might be abandoned. I been hanging out back at the old factory, but decided to come here when I remembered that you fixed up the place.”

“You’re not staying.”

“Don’t be so quick to decide, you old poof!” Spike had that pained expression down to an art form.

Angel glowered at the other vampire. Then he realized that his irritating grandchilde had come alone. Placing his feet back on the floor, he leaned across the desk to demand the truth. “Where is Drusilla?”

“She left me,” Spike’s true emotions came through as despair shadowed his blue eyes. “I don’t understand it, Angel. The worthless little trollop left me.”

“Every now and then Dru does have a moment of lucidity,” Angel pointed out. “Looks like she finally realized what I knew all along.”

“What’s that?” Spike couldn’t stop himself from asking.

“That you’re a wastrel,” Angel answered with a sneer. A master vampire without a shred of real ambition other than your penchant for killing Slayers.”

“What’s wrong with that?” The defensive questions came with a glare. “Just look at your own undead life, Peaches. The soul keeps you locked away from your own kind. You’re a pariah. What keeps *you* here if it’s not a penchant for Slayers?”

Angel sat back in his leather chair. He ignored the question in favor of asking one of his own. “Why are you back in Sunnydale? Can’t be me. You conspired against me, Spike, to stop Acathla. Conspired with the Slayer you have been so hot to kill.”

“How the bloody hell did you know that?” Spike launched himself out of his chair to pace the room. “That honeyed bitch! Slayer likes to kiss and tell.”

At Angel’s growl, the other vampire shrugged and clarified. “Tell anyway. I haven’t been kissed by that luscious mouth, though she has certainly kissed mine— with her fists.”

That was more like it, Angel smirked.

“You didn’t answer my question,” Angel redirected him. “Why are you back?”

“In Sunnyhell? It was the last place Dru and I were together. I hoped she would leave that demon she ran off with and come back to me.”

“I’d say you sounded pathetic,” Angel commented, “but I can’t laugh at your feelings for Dru. As much as you hated me, you loved and cared for her.”

“Didn’t hate you, Peaches,” Spike admitted. “Not until you got that bloody soul. Not until you abandoned us to your bitch of a sire. Lucky for us Darla took off quick enough after she booted your ass out of her bed.”

The memories stirred the old ache in Angel’s chest, the dark brooding about his past that kept his soul secure when Cordelia wasn’t around. The thought of her was sobering to the vampire who realized that he wanted Spike gone before she returned to the mansion. She was living with him now whenever her parents were out of town— a frequent occurrence.

“You’re not staying,” Angel reiterated.

Spike leaned over the desk to argue his point, and then picked up a familiar scent on the elder vampire. Apples and cinnamon with a light coating of vanilla. His blue eyes wide with shock, Spike sat down sharply in the chair behind him. “It’s not just the cheerleader you’re shagging, it’s the Slayer.”

Angel furiously rose out of his chair facing the other vampire in full game face. “Get out, Spike.”

“Oh, ho! So it’s true. Bloody hell, Angel. You always did have all the luck with women,” Spike sighed. Taking no notice of his grandsire’s order to leave, he put his feet back up on the desk. “You got some balls on you banging the Slayer. A right nut-cruncher, is that one. Wouldn’t mind a whirl if you had her chained up.”

Barely restraining an urge to dust the impertinent vampire, Angel’s growling had become a steady rumble. “Spike,” he sounded another warning.

“Now the cheerleader,” Spike grinned as the memory of Cordelia Chase’s luscious curves came to mind, “I’d shag her in a minute. Just the thought of those tits gets me hard again. So firm and warm— overflowing my hands.”

Spike had no time to react as Angel launched himself across the desk. Landing hard, the chair toppled over, taking both vampires with it. While Angel’s fists pummeled Spike’s face, the blond vampire recalled that the cheerleader had been the cause of Angelus’ little tirade nearly a year ago. Severe beatings and the shagging of himself and Drusilla had followed the chit’s little break-up message. It had not come with Spike revealing that he dared to touch his grandsire’s human pet. Though he figured Angelus could tell, Spike never verbally admitted the fact until now.

Bloody liquor! Can’t keep your own trap shut because you’re drunk, Spike thought as Angel continued to pound him into the floor. The larger vampire grabbed him by the shirt-front jerking him to his feet.

Seething, Angel decided his grandchilde had gotten the point. “Don’t ever touch what is mine. Especially her, understand? Don’t dream about her, don’t think about her and keep your hands to yourself.”

Spike brushed himself off, ignoring the pain of the punches delivered by his grandsire. Bloody hell! The obsession was still on. “The Slayer know about your little pet?”

“Cordelia is not my pet,” Angel decided to tell him. It was the only way Spike would get the picture. “She is my mate.”

“So you turned the chit,” Spike finally got over his initial shock. Then Angel told him that Cordelia Chase was not a vampire, “No, Spike. She is still human.”

After a moment of silence, Spike burst out laughing. “Bloody hell, Peaches. I thought I was love’s bitch, but looks like you win the kewpie doll.”

“I like Cordelia the way she is,” Angel explained that turning her would take away some of her essence.

“For now,” Spike guffawed at the idea. “Until those tits start to sag and her skin wrinkles up into a dried prune. You’ll never let that happen, Peaches, and you know it. Maybe you will let her ripen a bit more since she’s still young, but you’ll turn her. I’m certain of it.”

“Shut up,” warned Angel. He was feeling like pounding a little more sense into Spike’s blond head. “Cordelia is mine—”

“You’re like a broken record,” Spike told him. “Mine, mine, mine. At least you have your woman. Drusilla is somewhere in South America shacking up with a chaos demon.”

When he put it like that, Angel *almost* felt sorry for his grandchilde. “You’re still not going to stay at the mansion, Spike.”

“Peaches!” There was a plea in his tone. He didn’t want to be alone at the factory. Spike had not been alone since before his first days as a fledgling. Drusilla had been a part of him for all of his undead existence. “I won’t bother you and the chit. Shag all you want. I promise not to interrupt— much.”

“Go.”

“You have all of this space—”

“Go.”

“You’re my grandsire—”

“Go.”

“Bloody hell, Peaches, you’re so damn stubborn.” Spike finally gave up. Turning toward the door, he gestured his goodbye.

Back at the factory, Spike opened up another bottle of whiskey. If he had to be alone in this rat trap, then he would damn well be drunk enough not to care.

That bitch Drusilla, his black goddess, his dark beauty, his sweet loony sire— it was all her fault he was here alone. Fell out of love with him. Said he’d gone soft because he made a truce with the Slayer. That was when Dru turned to that horned chaos demon. That horny chaos demon. That horny horned chaos demon.

Whoa! He wasn’t thinking straight. Couldn’t even stand straight. Spike collapsed on the floor, falling on his ass.

“Our love was eternal,” he broadcast to the empty room. “S-she needs to forget the horny horny demon and come back to me.”

What would make her come back? Angel had come back. A spell made him come back. He was re-cursed, that’s what he said. Yup! He said it was magic. That little redheaded witchery witch with the casting of the, uh— spell. She made *him* come back with her magic. She could make Drusilla come back too.

As Spike passed out on the floor, he did so with a drunken grin. At last, he had a plan for getting Drusilla back. All he needed was the help of the Slayer’s little pal. Whether she wanted to give it— or not.

After Spike’s departure, Angel attempted to resume reading only to find his mind was preoccupied by the seed of doubt his grandchilde had planted in his head. Spike seemed certain— he had said as much— that Angel would turn Cordelia, that his own demon nature would demand it of him. It was not an idle threat, but closer to a measure of truth. He knew it. Angel even suspected that Cordelia knew it. There was time yet. Lots of time before that ever became an issue.

So he thought.

Within twenty-four hours, Spike’s plan to procure a love potion to win back Drusilla would not only wreck havoc on their lives, but their hearts as well. The blond vampire’s sudden kidnapping of Willow Rosenberg made Angel realize that his grandchilde would have been far better off under his watchful eye at the manor. Too late, the damage had already been done.
Spike was using Xander Harris as leverage to force Willow into mixing the potion. She was scared of the vampire, but tried to hold up for Xander’s sake. The drunken vampire was distraught and looked to Willow for some small measure of comfort— promptly denied to him. So the vamp settled for a heart-to-undead-heart chat with the chit.

Then Spike found himself raiding the local magic shop to search for the right spell stuff. Found by Angel and the Slayer, they met in an awkward standoff. Spike had something they wanted and Willow could make something he needed. Once he had the potion, Spike promised to leave town. After all, he just wanted Drusilla back.

It seemed simple enough for a kidnapping and ransom until one of Spike’s old colleagues showed up with his gang of vamps looking for a little trouble. Well he found it— in the form of a petite blond Slayer. Angel and Spike were fighting side by side along with the Slayer— if Spike kept a diary, this would be a doozy of an entry. Funny what you think about when you’re still drunk!

One thing was obvious to Spike as he watched Angel and the Slayer. The sexual tension between those two was thick enough to cut with a knife— until the cheerleader appeared to ease it. She breezed into the magic shop just at the end of the battle to cover Angel and Buffy in hugs and kisses. If it wasn’t for Spike’s presence, the vampire felt certain that the cheerleader would have had the two of them naked and writhing on the floor.

Instead of hugs and kisses to Spike, Cordelia Chase dished out a scolding complete with the hard pinching of his ear. She demanded to know where Willow and Xander were being held, stating that surely even he wasn’t stupid enough to keep them at the factory. Sheepishly, Spike admitted that they were there. Hey— too drunk to come up with a better place.

Rubbing his tortured ear, Spike grinned widely and told the chit, “You’ll make a helluva vampire, luv.”

The four of them arrived at the old factory carting a spell and ingredients. Opening the door, they found the captives sitting together on the corner cot with their faces pressed together. Kissing! Willow and Xander were kissing and it took more than the noise of the door opening to alert them that they were no longer alone.

“Bloody hell, Red!” Spike protested at the sight. Looked like everyone in Sunnydale had a better love life than him. But not for long. “Just call me Cupid.”

Willow Rosenberg came to the conclusion that the kidnapping had been very eye-opening for a number of reasons. Xander finally saw her as more important to himself than being just a best friend. Spike realized that he didn’t want to rely on a potion to get back Dru’s love— Willow had some previous experience with love spells that suggested he might want another approach. But there was one piece of information Spike leaked out during his drunken heart-to-heart that Willow realized had been obvious for almost a year.

Denial gave way to acceptance as Willow thought back over the past months. Angel and Cordelia’s connection had grown strong since they first acknowledged its presence. They were mates in every sense of the word excepting that Cordy was still human. Willow now realized that not only had she been naive and stupid in using her magick upon the pair— she was blind too.

Blind to the truth. Spike’s revelation was so blatant that Willow knew it to be true. “Just you and me, Red— except for droopy boy over there. Xander doesn’t count. What is it Red? Why do we get left out of all the fun?”

Willow didn’t really care as long as Spike left Xander alone. He was still unconscious from the aftermath of Spike’s attack. Still nervous, Willow noticed the way Spike kept looking at her neck—

“Angel is greedy. Doesn’t wanna share what’s his,” Spike told her. “Not with William the Bloody.”

“Who?”

“Me.”

The witch recalled that Spike had previously possessed another moniker. Until his use of railroad spikes as a favorite weapon garnered him a new nickname. “Oh. Yeah.”

“Mm! You smell really good,” Spike leaned into Willow’s neck. “I haven’t had a woman in weeks. Unless you count that salesgirl at the magic shop— and I don’t.”

“Eep!”

“My greedy bastard of a grandsire doesn’t like to share his women. Kicked me out of the mansion.” Spike told her.

Willow was distracted by the way he kept sniffing at her neck. “W-women?”

“Gotta wonder, Red— why aren’t you there too?” Playing with the silky strands of her hair, Spike licked at the outer shell of her ear. “Strawberries and cream. Fruity and spicy with just a touch of vanilla cream— just the way Peaches likes them.”

“P-peaches?” Willow was trying not to respond to the way his tongue kept lapping at her throat.

“Angel,” he clarified. “The way he likes his women. Gotta say, he always did have great taste in women. Especially my Dru—”

Quickly reminding him that Drusilla was the reason they were all there, Willow pulled away from Spike, patting him on the knee. “You’ll get her back. A handsome vamp like you. No problem.”

Spike fell for her distraction, but was still fixated on the way his grandsire failed to share. “All I wanted was a place at the mansion. Renew the old blood ties— despite the soul. I figured Angel and I had something in common, we’d both been kicked out by our sires. Him because he had a soul. Me because I helped the Slayer.”

Willow had never gotten all of the details from Buffy on that strange truce. The vampire seemed to be missing his family ties. Feeling a little sorry for him, Willow suggested, “Maybe Angel will reconsider if you let us go. Be a good vamp and maybe he’ll trust you.”

“Nah! He already warned me to stay away from you, Red.”

“He did?”

Spike nodded. “You’re under his protection. That’s why I asked the reason you’re not at the mansion.”

“C-Cordelia stays there with Angel,” Willow pointed out, “when her parents are out of town. She’s his mate. My fault, really. Botched a spell.”

Frowning, Spike commented, “You better not botch this one, luv.”

“Nope. Had more practice since then.”

“Still doesn’t answer my question about you,” Spike continued to persist. “Then Angel’s collection would be complete. Blonde, brunette, redhead. Lucky vamp.”

Willow’s eyes widened as Spike’s prattling finally started to make sense. “Blonde? You mean Buffy?”

“Who the fuck else would I be talking about?”

With a shrug, Willow figured he was referring to Angel and Buffy’s former relationship as vampire and girlfriend. When Spike heard it, he fell back on the bed, laughing heartily. “You don’t know! You don’t know! How the hell did Peaches keep this one a secret from that bloody Watcher?”

“Watchers— plural. We have two now,” Willow pointed out with a frown.

Leaping up off the bed, Spike spun around with a grin on his face. “Even better, Red.”

“W-what secret?”

Leaning down, capturing Willow’s thin shoulders, Spike was only inches from her face as he spoke. “That my poof of a sire has been shagging both the cheerleader and your precious Slayer.”

“T-that’s impossible,” Willow denied it. “Angel can’t be with Buffy that way. He’d lose his soul.”

“Looks like love found a way, pet,” Spike was enjoying her torment. “He was drenched in their scent. The two of them.”

“Oh—,” Willow’s cry died out as the world went black.

“Red?” Damn! The chit fainted.

No sooner had Willow Rosenberg watched the taillights of Spike’s car disappear into the night than she had made her excuses to her friends. Buffy, Cordelia and Angel would see Xander got home without a hitch. She had somewhere else she needed to be. Angel’s offer to see her safely to her destination resulted in a clipped refusal.

It was late, very late by the time Willow reached the door of Rupert Giles modest home. She pressed her finger on the doorbell and kept it there until the librarian responded. He had already gone to bed if his obvious bed hair was any indication. Wrapped in a robe, he was yawning as he opened the door.

“Willow?”

Barging past him, Willow did not wait for an invitation. “We have to talk.”

So they had. Long enough for Giles to get the point— until the doorbell rang again. This time, it was Angel. Giles went with his first reaction, curling his fist and crashing it into the surprised vampire’s face. The stinging punch set him back a bit, but did not knock Angel off his feet.

Instead, he looked stunned as the former Watcher lit into him. “You bloody bastard! You lecherous, cradle-robbing demon!”

When Giles suddenly began stuttering wildly, Angel took the opportunity to enter the house, saying, “So you know.”

“W-willow has just informed me.”

The witch waved a guilty hand at the vampire. Then commented, “You followed me.”

“Buffy wanted to make sure you were safe.”

“I’m safe,” Willow showed him her serious face. “I thought Giles should know what you are doing to Buffy and Cordelia.”

Angel countered, “It’s not his business. Or yours.”

Waving a pointing finger, Giles glared at the vampire with all the hatred he could muster. “Buffy *is* my business. I may no longer be her Watcher, but I am her friend.”

“Be her friend,” Angel suggested. “Leave this alone. She’s happy. We’re happy.”

“Not too happy?” Willow pitched in.

Giving her a lopsided grin, Angel shook his head. “Wesley’s theory was on-target. Cordy secures my soul as long as we’re together. Buffy and I have found a little happiness with her help.”

“Eew! Eew! Eew!” Willow cringed at the image in her head. “Eew times three!”

“How did you find out?” Angel asked her.

“Spike.” She couldn’t think of a reason for not telling him. “He was drunk.”

Angel was seething. Good thing his wayward grandchilde was already on his way out of the country. “So you decided to dart right over to the faithful watchdog. Willow, haven’t you learned about the dangers of interfering with me and mine?”

Eep! Turning red at the thought, Willow tried to stand her ground. “This isn’t about me. I think it’s wrong, Angel— you and Buffy and Cordelia.”

“Jealous?” Angel’s dark eyebrow quirked upward as he took a step closer. “Maybe you need a repeat of your lesson from the library.”

“N-no!”

Giles had no clue what lesson the vampire referred to, but it was clear that the thought of it upset Willow. “Enough. Let’s deal with this situation on an adult level. No more hitting or taunting. Agreed?”

“Agreed.” Angel nodded soberly.

Willow promised nothing, just glared up at the vampire.

They all sat on the couch. Giles and Angel were on the left and right with Willow in the center as the barrier between them. Both men had glasses of scotch while she settled for ice water. It was not a pleasant position to be in, but it seemed to keep the peace.

“I had long accepted the fact,” Giles began, “that your bond with Cordelia would require you to maintain a relationship despite the fact that it was Angelus who initiated the ritual of mating.”

“She is mine!”

Noting the subtle growl that accompanied the statement of ownership, Giles continued to make his point. “Buffy has no such connection, Angel. There is nothing forcing you to corrupt her in this manner. She is still just a girl— not quite eighteen— despite the fact that her experience as a Slayer has caused some aspects of her life to mature more rapidly than others.”

“I love Buffy,” the vampire assured him.

“I won’t ask if she still loves you in return,” Giles said. “That is obvious considering all she sacrificed to remain with you.”

Angel glowered. “Sacrificed?”

Taking a swallow of his scotch, Giles recalled the old saying about love being blind. “I admit that Buffy seems happy. For now. What happens later?”

“We’re doing this one day at a time, Rupert. No one knows what will happen. We lead dangerous lives and deserve some pleasure where we can find it.”

Giles scoffed. “You certainly found it. More than your share.”

Only Willow’s raised hand kept Angel from reacting physically to the Watcher’s words. He caught the hand, pressing it into his thigh and keeping it there as a reminder to control his temper. If anything— untoward should happen to Rupert Giles, then this whole thing would be moot. Buffy would never forgive him for it.

Flashing a nervous look in the vampire’s direction, Willow realized that Angel remained focused on Giles. The feel of the hard muscular thigh beneath her hand made her heart race a little faster. Maybe Angel was right. Maybe this was just a teensy-tiny bit akin to jealousy.

Spike’s revelation infuriated her. The audacity that he would suggest she would be a part of Angel’s Blonde, Brunette and Redhead Collection. Gosh! Wow! That sounded really naughty. S’pose the blond vampire’s nuzzling and naughty suggestions made her horny? Was that why she had flung herself at Xander at the first opportunity with the excuse of bonding with a fellow kidnap victim?

The sudden removal of Angel’s hand made Willow realize that she had been curling her fingernails into the vampire’s thigh. If her thudding heartbeat and the moisture gathering between her thighs was any indicator, it seemed likely that his vamp senses had picked up on her arousal.

Daring to glance up, Willow found his dark gaze burrowing into hers looking for a decent explanation. “What exactly did Spike say to you, Willow?”

“D-doesn’t matter.” She slowly removed her hand hoping that Giles had not noticed what she had been doing.

“I think it does.”

“Nope.”

Giles sighed, and then gulped down the rest of his scotch. “Please leave Willow out of this. She simply carried a message that clearly needed to be delivered to me.”

“Messengers often pay the price for their wagging tongues,” Angel pointed out calmly as Willow’s eyes grew large and round.

“I thought we agreed— no threats.”

“No, Willow,” countered Angel firmly. “Giles and I agreed to end hitting and taunting, while you remained silent. Besides, this isn’t a taunt or a threat. Consider it a promise.”

“But no hitting, right?”

Angel’s mouth twitched at her nervous expression. Leaning in to whisper in her ear, “It depends.”

“Depends on what?” Willow wasn’t whispering and glanced nervously at Giles who was trying to find the appropriate words to stop this.

“On what punishment Buffy and Cordelia will dole out to their traitorous little friend. It will probably make the spanking you received at Angelus’ hand mild in comparison,” he responded in his normal voice.

“What?!” Giles exploded off of the couch and Angel had to react.

“Kidding!” Willow jumped up between them. “Angel is kidding. Aren’t you, Angel? Just trying to scare me.”

Pushing hard at the vampire, Willow forced him to sit back down. Slowly, still not quite believing it, Giles sunk into his spot on the couch. The girl was ten shades of red as she glared at Angel, thwacking him on the chest. At least the vamp hadn’t told Giles every detail about that day at the library.

He suddenly seemed stoic; waiting for Giles to bring forth more evidence that he was not doing the right thing in maintaining his relationship with the two human teenagers. Spike had managed to screw things up in his usual manner. Angel could not deny that there was a grain of truth to Spike’s prediction about Cordelia or Rupert’s concern over his Slayer.

There had not been much time to brood about it, but Angel sensed there would be a lot of brooding in the days ahead. “Rupert—”

“Those girls will never have a normal life,” Giles cut in determinedly.

“—you’re right.”

“What?” The former Watcher went slack-jawed. Normally, his arguments took longer to win.

“Just listen to me— threatening Willow that way. She may deserve a good spanking, but it’s not something I do to people under my protection.”

Willow smiled weakly. So much for his promise, she thought with a tiny bit of regret.

Giles frowned at the girl’s reaction. “Your point?”

“The longer I am with Cordelia and Buffy, the happier I become,” Angel told them. “My soul may be secure, but my demon comes closer to the surface. Probably because I let it out to breathe now and then now knowing the threat of losing myself to it completely is over.”

Nodding his understanding, Giles related, “This was one of our deepest fears and it’s the reason why Wesley and I have been watching Cordelia so closely.”

Snorting, Willow rolled her eyes. “Not close enough!”

“Apparently not,” Giles frowned.

Angel tried not to laugh. This was his future they were talking about, dammit. “You can never understand the ties between us. Cordelia is my mate. She’s in my blood— the pure essence of her. I’m in hers. We’ve claimed each other in ways that bind us ever closer.”

“You’re soulmates,” Willow whispered as the guilt she had long ago dealt with returned.

The vampire had not heard anyone refer to the connection that way since Buffy explained its existence that evening at the mansion. “Yes, I feel it. I want her, need her, crave her in ways I cannot fathom. Even now, while we’re apart, I feel an ache in my chest that she is not by my side.”

Gulping, Willow realized the full extent of her spell-tweaking. Mind, body and spirit— a connection between the vampire and the cheerleader linked them all. Angel had seemed to be as happy with Cordy as the brunette was with him. Willow had allowed herself to believe that her interference resulted in a good thing. Especially since Buffy’s recovery seemed instantaneous. Now she knew why.

“I am not concerned as much for Cordelia as I am Buffy,” Giles admitted. “Cordelia—”

“You should be more concerned,” countered Angel, stopping Giles in mid-speech. “Buffy knows the score. She chose to continue our relationship. She accepted Cordelia’s offer to enter our bed.”

“Cordelia’s offer?” Willow gasped. That was a shocker!

Ignoring the interruption, Angel continued. “Buffy loves me— as I will always love her. I cannot pretend that I would have chosen Cordelia over Buffy if the choice for a soulmate had been offered. I loved her first.”

Willow’s lip was quivering and she swiped at the tears in her eyes. Seeing this, Angel put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her close. “Don’t be sad about it, sweet Willow. I love Cordelia too. It took a little longer for me to wade through my feelings of lust for me to make that discovery, but it happened.”

Angel kissed the top of her head, making Willow burrow a little further into his hug. He felt so strong and comforting— she didn’t deserve that. “I’m so sorry, Angel. Did I ever tell you that?”

“About a thousand times.”

“Oh.” Willow frowned. “Guess the trauma of apologizing blocked it out.”

Observing the two embrace, Giles wanted to yank the girl away from the vampire. Even though he knew Angel would not harm Willow, the librarian was still feeling a protective vibe. Still, he wanted Angel to get on with what he was saying about Cordelia.

“Why would I need to worry about Cordy more than Buffy?” Giles prompted.

Releasing Willow, the vampire continued to hold her hand, a measure of comfort more for him than her. He rested his other arm on the back of the couch. “I told you that there are times my demon comes out to play. Not just in a fight. Not just when I let myself go to the bloodlust in battle. It happens with Cordelia, too— especially if Buffy is not there to keep my demon in check.”

“Good God!” Giles hoped he was not hearing this.

“The Slayer’s presence curtails my darker personality traits,” Angel admitted. “Cordelia brings them out full-force. I guess because I claimed her in my pure demon form.”

“T-that could be dangerous.”

“It is,” Angel confessed. Looking down at the redhead, he suggested that she go to the kitchen, not wanting her to hear what he needed to say next.

Willow refused to budge. “I got you into this mess. I deserve to hear everything. Makes me feel guiltier.”

“Are you sure you’re not a closet Catholic, Willow Rosenberg?” Angel laughed gruffly with a hint of Irish brogue in his voice.

“I’m staying.” She gripped his hand a little tighter. “Go on.”

Angel lifted his gaze back to Rupert Giles who looked as though he wanted to be the one to run to the kitchen. “Cordelia is human, but there are times that I take her in ways only a vampire could withstand. How she handles it, I’ll never know. Maybe it’s the spell or the connection we share that goes beyond the normal mating ritual.”

Feeling extremely awkward because of Willow’s continued presence Giles tried to shape his response in a way that sounded less— horrifying. “Are these encounters only sexual or do they involve bloodplay?”

“Same thing,” Angel blinked.

Willow huffed. She got that one. “Hello! Vampire.”

“Uh— very well.” Giles continued to collect data, “Has the behavior escalated?”

“Yes.”

“Has the bloodplay escalated?

“Yes.”

“Resulting in severe blood loss?”

“Once,” Angel felt a cold hand grip his unbeating heart. “I had to take Cordelia to the hospital overnight. She refused to let anyone know— even Buffy who was fortunately occupied with Scooby business.”

“What about her behavior?” Giles had to ask. Normal human behavior would suggest that the girl might try to get out of such a relationship, but this wasn’t a normal relationship.

A look of lust crossed Angel’s handsome features at the thought of what Cordelia did to him in bed— and out of it. He wanted her right now. The proof of it was currently hard and aching.

“Ever changing— sometimes submissively gentle, but often the playful wanton tigress. It scares me how she matches my moods so perfectly. Or counters them. Cordelia Chase is quite the dominatrix when she wants it.”

Even Giles was blushing after that.

“I-I meant— does she get involved in the bloodplay?”

“Oh.”

“Does she bite you?”

“Yeah. I heal fast, so you probably didn’t notice.” Angel shrugged. “That’s nothing new. She bit me the first time that Buffy was with us.”

“Cordelia— claimed you,” Giles felt a little panicked at the idea. A human performing a ritual claim on a vampire? That was not a good sign.

There was a smug look on Angel’s face now.

Giles continued with his battery of questions while, unnoticed, Willow’s attention now fell to the twitching movements under the fly of the vampire’s pants. She found it very interesting in a scientific sort of way— but knew that wasn’t the only reason she kept looking. The ever-lengthening object inside those pants was fast approaching the location of her hand, which was still entwined with Angel’s as he held it in his lap.

“Do Cordelia’s bites draw blood?”

“Sometimes, if that is what she wants.”

“She continues to consume the blood,” Giles assumed and got a nod of confirmation from the vampire. “Does she allow you to bite her or does she ask for it?”

“Both.”

“Ask or beg, Angel?”

The vampire started with a jerk at the question, “Does that matter?”

“I think so.”

Willow’s hand was suddenly released by the vampire whose surprised reaction increased as her fingers dropped directly onto his engorged penis. All this talk of blood and sex had made him hard. Without thinking about it, Angel caught Willow’s wrist before she could snatch it away. At an angle hidden from the Watcher, he pressed her small hand along his rigid member through the barrier of his clothes.

Angel’s voice was strained as he told Giles, “She begs for it, Rupert. Calls my name out and begs for my fangs in her throat. Begs for me to bite her just before she peaks. Makes her cum that much harder.”

Giles mouth curled into a shocked circle. “Well, I think I need another drink. You?”

“No,” Angel growled as Giles literally jumped off of the couch and ran into the kitchen.

Willow was panting now as Angel continued to press down on her wrist. Then he leaned forward to growl in her ear, his tone reminiscent of the time when Angelus had her by the throat. “Be quick, you little bitch. This is what you wanted.”

“N-no,” Willow tried to deny it even as her hand moved faster along the tumescence that tented the vampire’s pants.

A soft chuckle followed. “That sounds like the truth. Means you want more.”

“N-no.”

“Feel lucky I don’t have you on your knees, Red Willow.”

Gasping, Willow then gritted her teeth. Whispering furiously, “I’d bite.”

“We’ve established that I like being bitten. Vampire, remember? If you ever bite me there without my permission—”

“Not a problem.”

“What problem?” Giles asked curiously as he approached with a newly opened bottle of scotch. The last one had been half-full when they started.

Willow jumped off the couch, forcing the vampire to release her hand. She tossed a small couch pillow at his lap— the one she had been clutching with her free hand. “There is no problem! I gotta pee. Gotta go to the bathroom. Angel didn’t want me to miss anything if you came before I did. I-I mean returned before I did. So— no problem.”

Escaping to the bathroom, Willow practically slammed the door shut and turned the lock. Oh God! Oh God! Oh God! Angel sounded just like Angelus. This wasn’t good. It wasn’t good. This was so not good. Bad, bad, bad!

“I’m glad that Willow stepped out,” Giles told the vampire. “That was getting a bit risqué for a seventeen-year-old’s ears— not to mention mine.”
Angel leaned forward, his elbows on his knees and his head buried in his hands. “Rupert, you have no idea how fine an edge I walk these days. Something happened— just now in fact, to make me realize how dangerous I have become even with my soul intact.”

“Just now?” Giles sought clarification. “A memory?”

“No. While you were gone on your little sojourn to the kitchen, Willow and I had a chat.”

“A chat,” Giles parroted the words.

“It made me realize that I can’t protect anybody this way,” Angel told him. Thrusting the pillow aside, he gestured to his tented pants. “Do you see? Just talking about fucking and biting Cordelia gets me hard. I can taste her blood in my mouth.”

“A-Angel, is Willow okay?”

“Yes, dammit!” Angel got up from the couch trying to will away his erection. “I think I scared her. M-my control was slipping. Though, if you’d stayed away a little longer I’d have had her spread out on your coffee table.”

Giles’ worries only escalated at that overtly honest confession. “Oh dear.”

“And why not?” Angel continued, gathering up enough dark irony and self-hate to give himself material for centuries of brooding. “Willow is as much mine as your precious Slayer. Did you know that? No. She doesn’t even know it, so how could you?”

“What?!” Giles needed another drink.

“Her virgin blood, Rupert,” Angel flashed his amber-hued eyes at the librarian garnering a flash of fear. “Just took it with my fingers, but I’m sure it still counts.”

“My God! Angel, you have defiled every innocent thing that has touched your undead life here in Sunnydale.”

“True. If it’s worth anything, I did it when I was Angelus.” The vampire finally returned to his calmer state. Remorse— that always got him. “Following Willow here was just an excuse to talk to you, Giles. I need your help.”

Shaking his head, Giles told him, “There is only one thing that can help, Angel. Only one thing you can do to fix this.”

“No!” Angel might has well have been a mind-reader. “I won’t leave her. Can’t you see what happens to me? I go crazy with wanting her.”

“That is the blood talking,” Giles explained. “After a withdrawal period, you will be fine. You will both be fine.”

“No, Giles, anything, but that.”

One other suggestion, though it would not likely change the outcome for Cordelia Chase, “Take her with you. Leave Sunnydale.”

Angel was quick on the uptake. “You mean leave Buffy. That’s what you’ve wanted all along, but it won’t work. I told you— Buffy keeps me grounded.”

“Not from this angle.” Giles briefly paused to clean his glasses. Upon replacing them on the bridge of his nose, he asked, “Where do you think this is headed? You have taken two young women into your bed— have grown an interest in a third. Your vampire instincts are a lot like raging hormones driving you to fulfill their basic needs.”

Fighting to hold his tongue, Angel found he couldn’t. “Blood. Sex. Family.”

“Cordelia falls into all three categories. As your mate, she is your family and provides you with those other needs.”

“Yes,” Angel acknowledged softly.

“There is one problem though. Your soul connection,” Giles revealed his theory. “Cordy reads your needs, your instincts through some subconscious connection. She responds to those needs even at their most violent.”

“Yes.”

“She was mated to your demon before your soul returned. Angel, I fear for her. There is some part of you that wants Cordelia to be a vampire. If that is what you want, then she is reading that need and doing her best to make it happen.”

Angel howled to the heavens, his fear and rage pouring forth at the truth in the Watcher’s words. The truth hurt. He did not want that for Cordelia. What would happen if he turned her? Her soul would be gone and he would be in mourning for his soulmate no matter the fact that he would be gaining an equal in his bed.

“Buffy would stake us both,” Angel let out an ironic laugh. Then he saw a pair of green eyes pop out from the hall bathroom, having heard his cry. “Come out, Willow. I promise that it’s safe.”

“That’s not all you promised,” she pointed out.

“Don’t remind me.”

“Okay.” Stepping out of the small bathroom, Willow moved closer to Giles. “What did I miss? I overheard something about Buffy staking Angel.”
 

Truth hurts, so say the lower beings, especially in the mysterious ways of love. Heartfelt, physical, complicated, twisted, simple, undemanding, foreboding, misguided— love does play to different tunes. In its many forms, it may be fleeting or eternal. No matter which, love serves as a change agent, ‘altering when it alteration finds’ and narrows down the path of free will to just a few choices. Our Warrior once again arrives at the gate to his proper future, but the variables remain in play.
 

“I always say patrol's not complete without a trip to the stinky sewers,” Buffy wrinkled her nose at the smell.

Angel kept looking for their quarry. “I'm sure I saw him come down here.”

This was not Buffy’s choice of activities for the evening having hoped patrol would be quick and routine. “Couldn't we just let this be the vamp that got away?”

“What can I say? I need closure.”

That got Buffy thinking about her favorite topic of discussion— the prom. “No, you need *clothes*. You don't have a tux, do you?”

“Since when did patrolling go black tie?”

“For the prom, silly.” Buffy reminded him. “You are going to be taking Cordy. I’m stuck with Wesley, lucky me, but I get to dance with you.”

“We have more important things to think about right now than a dance, Buffy.”

Looking hurt, Buffy moped at his curt response to her happy thoughts. “Sorry, Giles. I'll just be quiet.”

“Come on, don't be that way.”

Just as Angel turned to take her into his arms, offering a truce, the vampire they’d been trailing dropped from the sewer pipes overhead. Growling, he bared his fangs, ready to fight.

“Not now,” huffed the Slayer. She hated interruptions. Staking the vampire with ease, she turned back to Angel. “I'm not being that way. Every time I say the word 'prom', you get grouchy.”

“I'm sorry,” Angel said with feeling. The word did not begin to cover how sorry he felt about this. “I'm just worried that you're getting too— invested in this whole thing.”

“What whole thing? Isn't this the stuff that I'm supposed to get invested in? Going to a formal, graduating, growing up.”

“I know.” Angel had attempted to broach the conversation before, suggesting that Buffy was missing out on something better.

“Then what? What's with the dire?”

“It's uh, it's nothing.”

“No, you have 'something' face.” Buffy recognized it.

“We need to talk, but not now and not here.” Angel did not want to do this in a sewer.

“No.” Buffy held her ground. “If you have something to say, then say it.”

Silence followed as Angel tried to hold off. He needed to do this, but he did not want it to be here. Not now.

“Drop the cryptic,” Buffy demanded as she tucked her stake away. “You're scaring me.”

Frustrated, running a hand through his hair, Angel told her, “I've been thinking— about our future. The three of us. Ours. Yours. Mine. And the more I do, the more I feel like us, you and me being together, is unfair to you.”

Holding a hand to her throat, Buffy’s face looked pale. “C-Cordelia doesn’t want me with you anymore. She wants to end it— wants you to herself.”

“No,” he shook his head. “Cordy hasn’t said a word. She doesn’t know about this yet.”

That was supposed to make her feel better? That it wasn’t his mate demanding exclusive rights? That this was all Angel’s idea? Desperately searching for some other reason, she latched onto an idea.

“This is a reaction to what the Mayor said. Pfft! He was just trying to shake us up.”

Somehow the evil mayor had sensed the relationship between Cordelia, Buffy and Angel was more than just friendship. He’d jokingly clued Angel in on the fact that as a vampire, he shouldn’t get into bed with a Vampire Slayer.

“He was right.” Angel told her. “That truth has been between us from the first, Buffy. No matter the love we’ve shared. You will always be the Slayer and I a vampire.”

“That’s what makes it special, Angel.”

Repeating the words, Angel stressed his own opinion, “He was right.”

“No.” Buffy argued. “No, he wasn't. He's the bad guy.”

“You deserve more. You deserve something outside of demons and darkness. You should be with someone who can take you into the light. Someone who can make love to you in his own right.”

“I don't care about that.” Buffy cried out. “As long as Cordy lets me in, I want to be with you. Both of you. I don’t care what the mayor thinks about it.”

“You will.” Angel had no doubt. “I can see it already. The frustration you feel at being second in line in the bedroom. The hurt in your eyes whenever she wants me to herself. It’s already getting to you, Buffy. Before you know it, you'll want it all, a normal life.”

“I'll never have a normal life.”

“Right, you'll always be a Slayer. But that's all the more reason why you should have a real relationship instead of this— this freak show.”
Stunned, Buffy gaped at him. He clamored to fix what he’d said, “I didn't mean that.”

“I'm gonna go.”

Grabbing her arm, Angel apologized again. “I'm sorry. Buffy, you know how much I love you. It kills me to say this.”

“Then don't.” Tears glistened on her cheeks under the yellow glow of the sewer lights. “I don’t want to hear it. Who are *you* to tell me what's right for me? Do you think I have never thought about this?”

“Have you, rationally?” Angel doubted it. “When you made the decision to stay in our bed was it because you thought out the detailed consequences of having to share me with Cordelia? Reasoned what it would be like? Or was it passion, desire and lust that drove you to stay?”

Love, she wanted to say. “No. No, of course not. I'm just some swoony little schoolgirl, right? Follow my impulses.”

Angel felt low, as low as that sewer rat gnawing on a random bone. This was not how he envisioned breaking the news to Buffy. Pleading for understanding, he held out his hands in an open sign of need, “I'm trying to do what's right here, okay? I'm trying to think with my head instead of my heart.”

“Heart? You have a heart? It isn't even beating!” Buffy yelled at him.

Warning her against going down that crueler path, he growled, “Don't.”

“Don't what? Don't love you? I'm sorry. You know what?” Buffy threw up her hands in aggravation. “I didn't know that I got a *choice* in that. I'm never gonna change. I can't change. I want my life to be with you.”

So down the cold cruel path it had to be. Angel told her point blank. “I don't.”

Buffy’s heart fluttered in shock at his words. “You don't want to be with me? Are you sure this isn’t Cordelia’s idea? I can't believe you're breaking up with me.”

“It doesn't mean that I don't—,” Angel reconsidered finishing that statement. Cold and cruel, remember? End it in a way that will force her to get on with her life.

“How am I supposed to stay away from you?” Buffy imagined the pain she would have every time she saw Angel and Cordelia around town.

Angel solved the problem for her. “I'm leaving Sunnydale. After the Ascension, after it's finished with the mayor. If we survive, I'll go.”

“You’ll go,” Buffy slowly caught on to his meaning. “Just you? What about Cordelia?”

“I can’t be with her, Buffy,” Angel’s anguish showed on his face. “She keeps begging me to bite her, to turn her.”

“Why?” Buffy had not witness that when they were together.

“Because it’s what my demon wants. She senses it. Deep down, I suppose I know it to be true.” Angel shoved his hands in his pockets. “I can’t let that happen. I have to leave.”

“Cordy will be devastated,” Buffy knew it just as she knew her own heart would break. “I thought— won’t you get sick without her?”

Angel shrugged. “Rupert said there would be a period of withdrawal.”

“Giles knows about this?” Buffy’s jaw tightened. “How long have you been planning this break up?”

“A while,” Angel confessed. “I wanted to stay until this latest apocalypse was over. Make certain things were settled. Cordelia will be fine— I’ve seen to that.”

Buffy’s anger melted, leaving only misery behind. “Where are you going?”

“I don't know.”

”I guess Cordelia will have to take Giles to the prom,” Buffy muttered, not wanting to think about it anymore. “Xander is already planning to go with Willow.”
 

Denial: a state wherein thought superimposed over more painful issues can soften harsh realities. The Chosen One finds her heart broken, but denies the impact this decision will have on her life. Fortunate is she who will find her true path, though this acute pain shall take time to heal. Our Warrior has a more difficult task ahead, one the Powers that Be fear he will fail to accomplish. His path must part from the Seer-to-Be if she is ever to be part of his future rather than a cornerstone of his past.
 

Angel’s finger pressed on the doorbell. He barely had time to return his hand to his pants pocket before the door was flung open by Willow Rosenberg. Grabbing his arm, she gave it a sharp tug. When that didn’t budge the vampire, she looked up suspiciously. “What are you doing?”

“You need to formally invite me in,” Angel reminded her.

The de-invitation spell designed to keep Angelus out of her home was still in place. “Oh! I forgot about. In that case— enter my humble abode. Well, my parent’s abode. I just live here.”

“I’m already in, Willow,” Angel commented after stepping into the small foyer.

Willow grabbed his hand, promptly leading him up the stairs toward her bedroom. “I’ve been waiting. Where have you been?”

“At the mansion,” he answered, “waiting for sunset.”
“Oh, yeah.” Willow nodded understanding. “Severe allergy to sunlight. Got it.”

As he entered Willow’s bedroom, he saw that she had everything in readiness. Good. He didn’t want to wait any longer. “This makes us even, Willow.”

“No it doesn’t,” she returned quickly. “Things would have been a lot different if I had not interfered. If I hadn’t been so jealous over Xander, I would never have cast the first spell. Cordelia would never have gotten involved with you as Angelus. She would not be your mate and I wouldn’t have tied your souls together.”

Handing Willow a book of spells procured from the magic shop, Angel told her, “I don’t regret loving Cordy anymore than I can regret loving Buffy. If I regret anything, it’s that I wasn’t good enough to be what they need.”

Opening the book, she started to browse through the pages. “This spell is complicated. If it works, you and I will be the only ones who—”

“Just get on with it,” Angel growled impatiently. “Before I change my mind.”
 

Choices. Difficult and dangerous. Such choices should be left to the higher beings rather than those who do not understand the permutations they create. Our Warrior knows the dangers, but not the consequences he creates. The Powers that Be gather awaiting news of this latest turn of events— will Order be restored or shall Chaos triumph?
 

Cordelia Chase popped open the trunk of her corvette, gazing down at the heavy suitcases and boxes therein. This job required vampire strength, she realized. Considering that the gardener’s last task prior to picking up his pink slip was to help her load the car, Cordy would wait to unpack until after sundown.

Wait until she told Angel that her parents’ latest trip was going to be a permanent one. If it wasn’t for concern for her mother, Cordelia would have shrugged it off as being typical of her parents. They knew that she had developed a friendship with Joyce Summers and actually encouraged her to move in with her until after graduation, suggesting that there might be problems at the house once the IRS came calling.

Leaving her with a small amount of cash in the letter that announced their goodbyes, it appeared that they had left her on her own. Good thing she had Angel— and Buffy. The two of them would help her get through this. It wasn’t everyday that one of the richest girls at Sunnydale High became destitute. Not that she was going to let anybody but her mate and the Slayer know that.

“Angel? I’m home!” Cordelia announced herself, but found no echoing greeting. “Where would he be at this time of day?”

A search of the place revealed that Angel was no where to be found. That was the least of it. Boxes full of Angel’s personal things were crowding his study and bedroom. Rushing into her own room, Cordelia found it to be untouched. No sign of packing boxes. No sign that Angel intended to bring her wherever he was planning to go.

She picked up the phone to call Buffy. She’d know what this was all about. Angel always told her his secrets first. The phone line was dead. Grabbing her car keys, she headed to her corvette. Picking up her cell phone, she found that it had no signal. Apparently, the IRS moved fast when it came to informing her parent’s creditors that they had flown out of the country evading charges of tax fraud.

Tossing the cell phone onto the passenger seat, she turned on the engine and moved the gear shift into drive. The tires screeched as she pushed the gas pedal to the floor steering the car in the direction of Revello Drive. Rounding a corner, she spotted the sheriff’s white and gold vehicle dead ahead and was forced to pull to a halt when he flashed his lights at her.

“Great! Just what I need. A ticket.” Cordelia put the car into park and stopped the engine after powering her window to its lowest point.

“Hello, Miss Chase,” the sheriff grinned. “So nice to catch you speeding yet again. Looks like your daddy will have to cough up quite a bit for this baby.”

“It’s an emergency, Sheriff,” she appealed to him with a look of desperation in her hazel eyes.

As if he hadn’t heard that one before! The sheriff put his hand on the roof, leaning down to officially ask for her driver’s license when he thought he saw a green flash of light hit her eyes making them glow. After a blink, he noticed that it was no longer there. Weird.

“I need to see your driver’s license, Miss Chase.”

“What?!” Cordelia looked around the car, appearing to panic.

“Don’t tell me— you forgot your purse.” The sheriff huffed. “Lucky for you, I not only know that your daddy can afford the insurance, but I have your driver’s license number memorized.”

He tapped his pen on his forehead. “Yep. After the first dozen times, it kinda stuck.”

“I was speeding?” Cordelia inquired truly confused.

The sheriff’s blue-eyed gaze narrowed. Cordelia Chase was not known for drinking or doing drugs, but there was always a first time. “You said something about an emergency. Trying to get there fast?”

“Uh— emergency? I have to go home now. I-I’m not feeling well.”

Handing her the ticket, the sheriff issued a final warning against speeding and went on his way. Cordelia sat in the car for ten minutes, mulling over the confused thoughts tumbling around in her brain. “My head feels like it’s stuffed with cotton.”

The last thing she remembered was— wanting to go home. Then there was something about the prom, but as hard as she tried Cordelia could not remember what her dress looked like or who her date was supposed to be. Not Xander. No, she had broken up with Xander Harris— that clown!

“Did I hit my head? Geez, this is weird.” Cordelia decided to head home. Her parents had told her they would be in town for the next couple of weeks. They planned to come to the graduation ceremony.

As Cordelia drove up to her parent’s house, she saw that the gate was stuck wide open. A number of cars and vans were parked outside. It was then that the federal officer ordered her to park her car on the front lawn. Escorting her inside, they questioned Cordelia for half an hour about her parent’s whereabouts.

“This house and its contents have been confiscated as evidence, Miss Chase,” the man told her. “That includes your car since it was in your father’s name. After we search its contents, we will transport you wherever you want to go as long as it’s here in town. If you have any other personal items in the house— toothbrush, comb, that kind of thing— you can take it. Though it appears that you had most of your stuff packed up. Were you coming or going, Miss Chase?”

“I was coming home,” she told the man. “Been staying at a friend’s house.”

That sounded like a good excuse. Cordelia wished she knew the truth. He suggested that she return there pronto. A look of horror crossed her face. “No! I can’t let anyone I know hear about this. I can imagine Harmony’s face right now. I’ll be the laughingstock of Sunnydale High.”

“So where do you want to go?” Cordelia thought about it, giving him instructions to take her to the Sunnydale Motel.

They dumped her off at the motel, barely giving her time to check in before taking off. It was a tiny, dingy room that greeted her upon her arrival. There was nobody to help her to carry in her stuff. As soon as she dragged in the last box, Cordelia closed the door, leaned back against it and sank onto the floor.

“Not gonna cry,” She told herself. “I’m no Cry Buffy.”

That was weird. Had she ever seen Buffy Summers cry? No. Well, she looked the type to be whiny.

Yanking her purse from the bed, Cordelia opened it to examine the contents of her wallet. There were several credit cards— all useless. The folded envelope in her purse contained the remainder of her funds. The guy at the motel office had charged her over a hundred dollars for the week and the envelope now contained less than two hundred.

How was she going to live on that? Eew! Cordelia suddenly realized that she would be forced to get a job just to make it through graduation. College was obviously no longer an option. This could not be the way her life was supposed to turn out. Destitute and alone—that was so not the way Queen C planned to exit her days at Sunnydale High.

Rising to her feet, Cordelia reached for her suitcase. Opening it up, she started to unpack. She kept on at her task until well after dark, until everything she owned had found a place in the dingy motel room. If this was going to be her home for a while, she was going to make it hers. She wouldn’t let its dark shadows and rusty faucets get her down.

“As long as there are no rats or roaches,” Cordelia told herself calmly as she checked out the nooks and crannies of the room, “I’ll be fine.”
 

And so the balance is restored. The Chosen One, Warrior and Seer-to-Be have returned to their predestined path. Thus is the Ascension halted— another apocalypse averted. It is as planned. The Chosen One and her allies seize the day. Thus we arrive at the present. Our Warrior’s actions this day have promoted him to Champion our cause.
 

“Angel?”
 

Lower being, you have come before the Oracles with questions in your heart. Such selfish pursuits are normally unworthy of our attention, but the actions of our champion have granted you passage this day. We have summoned you, Willow Rosenberg, to provide the closure required for this broken path now healed.
 

“I-I don’t understand,” Willow felt like she was dreaming. The golden beings standing in front of her were obviously not human. They claimed to be Oracles for higher beings—
Powers that Be. The images shown her flashed through her head in an instant. “What do I have to do?”
 

Know that the answers you seek are already within you. Though it is within our power to fold time, to turn back the clock, such action is not always for the greater good. It is the same with altering memory.
 

Willow realized they meant the spell of forgetfulness cast upon Cordelia Chase. The one that Angel begged her to perform. It was the only way, he surmised, that his mate would be able to gain a semblance of a normal existence. The spell altered her memory of their time together. Though she did not have the power to change take back the effects of the spell she had cast over Cordelia, Willow could alter the memory of it.

For Cordelia, her time with Angel was nothing more than fantasy. After her breakup with Xander, the cheerleader remained on the periphery of their Scooby circle. Involved in the unavoidable conflicts, but never when the vampire was present. Memory served that the Slayer and the vampire remained a pair, albeit a platonic one, until the big breakup right before prom night.
 

You carry the item we seek, lower being. The crystal containing the memory of our Seer.
 

Removing the black crystal from a tiny pouch at her waist, Willow held it out to them. In an instant, the female Oracle transported it to her own hand. Examining it, she explained its importance.
 

We act as guardian to her memory. For our Champion will one day seek its return. That is not to be borne until the time of our choosing. Know that you possess a powerful gift and a secret that must be upheld. Go now from this timeless place so that you may part company with our Champion.

The aftermath of the battle left the school in ruins. Willow found herself wandering in the smoky haze. Someone grabbed her elbow— Angel. “Y-you found me,” she gasped.

“It’s over, Willow. I’m leaving.”

Nodding, she already knew the plan. Then she noticed that Angel was in a position near a fire truck that kept him hidden from everyone’s view, perfectly angled to observe Cordy. The cheerleader was helping Wesley to his feet, brushing the dust off of his suit. Trust Wes to wear a suit to the apocalypse.

“You don’t look happy about this, Angel,” she told him. “This isn’t something we can just take back.”

“I know.”

“I wish it was,” Willow frowned. The Oracles showed her everything, including the harsh reality that was now Cordelia Chase’s life. That was no side-effect of Willow’s memory spell, but something that was going to happen anyway. Yet, in a way, Willow realized her magic had once again caused harm as Cordelia now had no one to confide in with Angel and Buffy out of the picture.

“Cordy has been happy, don’t you think?” The vampire was still watching his mate from afar, trying to convince himself that he was not a fool for leaving her.

“Yeah.” Too happy. Faking it with that patented toothy smile, Cordelia had convinced all of them that her life was fine and dandy. “Perfectly happy.”

Seeing Cordelia talking to Wesley Wyndam-Price, a low growl sounded deep in Angel’s throat. “Why is that Watcher standing so close?”

“Uh— Wes?” Willow blinked through the haze. “He’s hurt, Angel. I think Cordy is just helping him stand up straight.”

“He better keep his paws off,” Angel felt the urge to rip him apart.

Willow sighed in reaction. Good thing the vampire was planning to leave town. He would never survive keeping this to himself. “If you don’t go, Angel, you’ll be claiming Cordy all over again.”

Looking down at the petite redhead, Angel admitted that she was right. Enveloping her into his strong arms, he kissed the top of her head. “Take care of my girls, Willow.”

“I-I will,” she promised.

Angel cupped her chin, pressing a kiss on her startled mouth. “That also includes you.”
“Oh.”

“Get going,” he told her. “Buffy’s White Knight has been searching frantically through the crowd for the last ten minutes— calling your name.”

“Who?!”

“Xander.”

Willow looked puzzled. Then grinned, “Xander— really?”

Angel watched as Willow’s red hair bounced behind her as the young witch went to look for the boy. Frankly, the vampire had never liked Xander. He didn’t see that changing anytime soon. Willow’s feelings toward the guy were strong enough to irritate Angel who quickly convinced himself that it was not his business. Besides, if Willow kept Xander Harris occupied, the opportunistic clown would have less time to trail after Buffy.

The thought brought a smirk to Angel’s face.

Rupert Giles placed his glasses back on as he approached Buffy. “I, ah— managed to ferret this out of the wreckage. Now, it may not interest you, but— I found your diploma. Slightly charred, but I’d say you earned it.”

Taking the diploma, Buffy stared down at it with a glazed look in her eyes. Giles failed to notice, too caught up in the moment. Taking off his glasses again, he tapped his teeth. “There is a certain dramatic irony attached to all this. A synchronicity that borders on—
on predestination, one might say.”

The former Watcher’s deep thoughts were too much for Buffy Summers still drowning in the aftermath of blowing up Sunnydale High in order to defeat the mayor who had turned into a gigantic snake demon.

All she could muster to express her situation was, “Fire bad. Tree pretty.”

Understanding, Giles made his escape, “Yes, s-sorry. I’m going to see Wesley, see if he’s still— whimpering.”

Alone again, Buffy’s slayer senses tuned in to something close, tingling as they always did whenever vampires were near. She turned, frowning, until her eyes locked on Angel standing beside the fire truck looking back at her. This was it, she realized, trying to hold onto the moment. He promised there would be no goodbyes. Buffy held his gaze without blinking knowing that if she did, he would be gone.

Then Angel stepped back, turning slowly and disappeared into the mist of hazy smoke clinging to the ground.

End.

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