Falling Backwards

Author: Jami

Parts: 11 - 20

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~Part: 11~

She was breathing heavily. Her lungs felt as if they were on fire as her feet pounded harshly against the unforgiving pavement. She was late, that was all she could think, she was late and she needed to find Angel.

Willow slowed down as she approached his building, the area around it dark and ominous. Stopping to take a few deep breaths, she straightened her back and jogged inside, tripping down the stairs to his basement apartment. Her fist banged against the wood of his door, the sound echoing through the vacant hall. When he didn’t answer immediately she knocked even harder, yelling out his name.

“Willow?” the dark vampire breathed as the door swung open, his expression a mixture of confusion, anxiety, and annoyance at being disturbed. She didn’t let that bother her; he was probably only brooding anyway.

“The school, we have to get to the school,” she told him in between breaths.

“Why?” he asked warily. He didn’t really trust her, even though she had been nothing but helpful. There was just something about her and that boy that rubbed him the wrong way.

“Spike,” she said simply. His eyes became cold suddenly and his hands clenched into fists at his side. Good, she got his attention.

Stopping only to grab his coat, Angel pushed her out of his doorway, locking his apartment hastily behind him as he led the way to Sunnydale High. Willow trailed behind him, straining to match his stride, but he never slowed. It almost appeared as if he had forgotten she was there entirely, which was possible. When it came to Buffy’s safety, Angel was one focused demon. Nothing and no one else mattered to him except the slayer. It was kind of sweet.

Angel was muttering something under his breath as they quickly made their way down the streets of the hellmouth. She couldn’t discern his exact words, but she had caught some of what he had said and figured he was simply mumbling a long string of curses. Well, well, wasn’t he in a bad mood. Normally she would have laughed at the glower he fixed the street with, but now wasn’t the time. They needed to get to the high school and fast, before it was too late.

~~~*~~~

Spike didn’t wait a beat, still smirking as he took in the shocked look on the slayer’s face as he left his position at the front of the pack and dove for her, never seeing the chair she threw his way. He growled angrily and tossed the worthless piece of plastic out of his way, not caring if it hit any of his minions.

By then the blonde was on the run, a group of people following her, alternately silent in fear, or screaming because of it. His arm lashed out, grabbing the collar of a man who unfortunately happened to be on the slow side. The teacher, a darker man, middle-aged and terror stricken, twisted in his grip but could not get away.

“Nobody gets out!” commanded Spike authoritatively. “Especially the girl!” he reminded the dimwitted fledges as they spread out the find the scattered humans.

Buffy, her mother a step behind her, paused when she spotted a vampire at one end of the hall and turned swiftly, leading the small pack of teachers down the other side.

“Everybody this way! Come on, C’mon!” the slayer shouted as she waved them all ahead of her, leaving her to fight off the two vamps that were heading her way. Xander and Cordelia stumbled into the hallway, almost following Buffy before Cordy was grabbed from behind. Acting on instinct, Xander grabbed a nearby bust and slammed it into the head of the vampire who shrieked and released the girl. Gripping her shaking hand in his, he pulled her into the janitor’s closet and shut the door, using anything he could find the brace the flimsy piece of wood.

“What the hell…?” exclaimed Giles as he and Jenny peeked their heads out the library, amazed to see Buffy and company racing down the hall.

“Spike and his army!” she warned, “Look out!” Jenny turned her head and screamed when she saw a vampire closing in on them.

“Back!” ordered Giles, pushing Ms. Calendar into the library and immediately reaching for heavy items to place against the doors.

“In here now!” demanded Buffy as she hurriedly ushered her group into a classroom, a science lab by the looks of it. She closed both doors on either side of the room quickly and a couple of the men moved to push filing cabinets and the like in front of them. They all froze when they heard a noise followed by the lights abruptly going out.

~~~*~~~

“We cut the power,” informed a minion as he jogged up to Spike who was still in the lounge, holding onto the trembling older man. “Nobody got out.”

“And the slayer?” the Brit asked briskly.

“She either went that way,” he replied nervously, glancing to the right, “Or that way,” he added, looking to the left. “There were two others,” he offered as an excuse.

“You don’t know!” Spike growled furiously, releasing the man he was holding and shoving him away slightly. With a sigh of exasperation he turned his gaze to the teacher with a considering expression. “I’m a veal kind of guy,” he told the man conversationally. “You’re too old to eat.” His hands moved as fast as lightening, snapping his neck and letting the body fall with a thud. “But not to kill.” He took a deep breath, tilting his head to the side and glancing at the nameless minion. “I feel better.”

~~~*~~~

“You can’t go outside! They’ll kill you!” Buffy tried to reason with the frightened teachers but Snyder would have none of it. He had a major Napoleon complex which was fast becoming annoying.

“You don’t tell me. I tell you!” he reminded her firmly. She didn’t listen, pulling him to look her in the eye, drawing the attention of everyone in the room.

“They will kill everyone in this room,” she told him darkly. “No one gets out, nobody comes in until *I* say so. Do you hear me?”

“Who do you think you are?” he asked incredulously.

“I’m the one who knows how to stop them.” After saying that without any hint of pride she studied the room, looking for a way out that wouldn’t attract suspicion. Taking a determined step away from the little man, she looked up to the ceiling.

“Buffy, are you crazy?” Joyce asked in a hushed whisper. “Look, I know you’ve been accused of fighting and other things, but those guys are serious. You can’t go out there.”

“I know,” her daughter replied grimly. “That’s why I’m going up there.” She grabbed a stool, climbing up and pushing away the tile on the drop ceiling. “Don’t worry mom.”

Willow spied the high school in the distance and began running once more, leaving Angel to fend for himself. They may need his help to even up the odds a bit, but that didn’t mean they were attached at the hip.

She knew once she got closer that Spike had arrived. How long he had been there she wasn’t sure but there were two minions, one woman, one man, stationed outside the front doors. Spinning on her heel, she found Angel’s form in the darkness.

“Get down and cover yourself,” she hissed as he neared.

“What?” he countered with a confused glare.

“Just hide, alright? I don’t have time for this!” He grumbled for a second but complied, dropping to the ground and covering his face and any exposed skin as best he could with his coat.

“Phoebus Illumines!” she called out, her hand outstretched toward the twosome as a fantastic burst of light exploded from her palm, as brilliant as the rays of the sun. The vampires hissed and screeched in pain as their flesh burned. They writhed in agony before crumbling into two separate piles of dust by the entrance.

“What the *hell* was that?!” snarled Angel as he jumped up. The flash of light had caught him off guard and he grimaced as he clutched his hand to his chest, the skin slightly singed. He didn’t cover himself as well as he should have.

“That was a little sun spell,” she replied with a smirk. “It was nothing, really.” She grinned at his astonishment and turned suddenly, passing him swiftly and slipping through the front doors, into the darkened halls of Sunnydale High. He heaved a great sigh as he heard a growl in the distance. Her little show caught the attention of a few other vampires guarding the perimeter, now he was left to deal with them. Yay. Deciding he could use a good brawl, Angel let his human façade slip away and tore off running full bore toward the fledglings. They would pray for mercy when he was done with them.

~~~*~~~

“Sla-yer!” called out Spike as he sauntered down the hall. His very being seemed at one with the dark, his movements sleek, predatory, even graceful with a hint of smugness. He was sure he had the slayer cornered. That bitch wasn’t getting past him. “Here kitty, kitty,” he taunted, biting his lip in anticipation. “I find one of your friends first, I’m gonna suck ‘em dry.” His voice became low, as if he was imagining the pleasure he would receive from such act. “And use their bones to bash your head in…”

His footfall became louder and louder as Xander and Cordelia crouched in the closet, the girl praying not so silently, her eyes darting to the floor then to the door and back.

“Are you getting a word picture here?” His voice seemed to come from right in front of them and Cordelia shivered. Xander had to admit, he was scared, but not nearly as much as Cordy was.

“Oh God, oh God,” she murmured, resisting the urge to rock back and forth.

“Quiet!” Xander demanded softly, clapping a hand over her mouth and pulling her farther back into the closet.

The blonde vampire raised his booted foot to kick in the closet door when a voice stopped him.

“Spike!” shouted his closest minion. “Listen!” The sounds were muffled, but distinctly angry, pained. There were screams, from what he could tell they were coming from the street side entrance of the school. He was standing in a hallway to the right of the main corridor. The main hall was illuminated by moonlight from the windows in the front. There was a sudden bright flash and Spike cringed, taking an involuntary step back and covering his sensitive eyes with his leather clad arm.

“Bloody hell!” snarled Spike, unsure what had just happened. The minion behind him seemed nervous, jumpy, and took a step back as well, getting closer and closer to the exit.

They heard the doors open and shut with a quiet click. The blonde smiled in the dark. Whoever was there was actually trying to sneak up on him. After a show like that, there wasn’t a chance in hell that was going to happen. He crept silently down the hall, his back close to the lockers that lined the walls. He approached the lounge as he listened intently to the soft footsteps that the normal ear wouldn’t have heard.

Rounding the corner, his body was hidden by a bookcase. He chanced a look around the bookcase, his grin widening when he spotted a familiar redhead tiptoeing down the hall, glancing around nervously for any sign of him.

A deep, boastful chuckle made its way from his throat, the noise echoing in the silence, causing the girl to halt her steps, her eyes darting around the room. Taking an unneeded breath, Spike pushed himself away from the wall, stepping into the moonlight hallway. Her eyes widened at the sight of his profile. The almost head to toe leather duster gave him a dangerous mystique and she had to fight the urge to run screaming. She may be a bad ass Wicca, but he was a Master vampire with more than a hundred years of experience in killing people like her, without the encumbrance of a chip or a soul. His hands were in his pockets, a smirk on his face as he turned to face her, studying her in game face.

“Well, well, my night is looking up,” he rumbled with a chuckle. “You responsible for the little light show out there?” he wondered with a quirked eyebrow. He smiled slightly when she straightened her shoulders and looked him square in the eye.

“Yeah, would you like a demonstration?” she asked, her voice sickly sweet.

“No thanks love,” he declined swiftly. “But thanks, for the offer.” He peeked around her, frowning when he failed to spot any of his men around the perimeter. “Dust another one of my boys, eh? You know, keep this up Red and I might have to punish you…”

“Took out two of them actually,” she grinned. “Really Spike, you need better help.”

“Don’t I know it,” he snorted, eyeing her up and down. “So, come to play Little Red?” he drawled, tracing his tongue across his bottom lip.

“Not really,” she replied, standing her ground when he took a step forward. “I just came here to make sure my friends were okay.”

“Your…friends?” he asked with a look of disbelief.

“Yeah, Buffy, Xander, Cordy,” she listed. “Okay, maybe not Cordy cause, can you say bitch?” she amended, bringing a reluctant grin to his face. Willow broke her gaze with him for only a second, eyes glancing at the ceiling as she heard the faint shuffle of Buffy crawling around above them. That was good; all she had to do was keep him distracted.

“I must say I’m a little disappointed,” the redhead told him, saying the first thing that came to her.

“Really now?” he countered with a sly smirk.

“St. Vigeous is in two days,” she explained with a dramatic sigh. “And yet, here you are, compromising your numbers because you’re too impatient to wait to attack the slayer. I mean, I read such interesting things about you.” She took a brave step toward him. “They said you were cunning, smart, resourceful. Very high opinions of you,” she commented. “But as far as I can tell, you’re impulsive, rash, impatient, not any of those things they wrote about. You just don’t seem like the ‘Slayer of slayers’ that I read about.”

“Is that so?” he growled, his good mood giving way to irritation.

“I’m just saying you shouldn’t be here, Spike. It wasn’t smart--”her sentence was interrupted as a loud crash sounded behind the vampire. Spike spun quickly and Willow smiled in relief at the sight of Buffy, dusty but unharmed, standing on the other side of the bleach blonde.

“She’s right, Spike. You shouldn’t have come here,” the slayer taunted.

“No, I’ve messed up all your doilies and stuff,” he remarked, regaining his earlier smugness as evident by his sarcasm. “But I just got so bored,” he smirked. “I’ll tell you what, as a personal favor, from me to you, I’ll make it quick. It won’t hurt a bit.”

“No, Spike,” drawled Buffy with a grin. “It’s gonna hurt a lot…” Seeing the slayer lunge at Spike, Willow took the opportunity to run past them, heading to the library. She pushed the doors open a bit, sticking her head inside to see a crowd of people, Giles included milling about nervously.

“Giles!” she shouted as he turned to her. “Go! Get them out now!” He reacted immediately, herding out the teachers and parents as quickly as possible out the stacks. She was tempted to follow but remembered that Cordy and Xander were probably hiding in that closet and she didn’t have the heart to leave Xander in there all night with Cordy. He’d probably kill her the second he saw her next.

“Come on!” she whispered as she knocked at the closet door. “Xander it’s me! The hall is clear, get out here now!” There was a lot of moving around inside but soon enough the door opened and Xander looked at her, happy to see she was fine. “We’ve got to get out of here.”

The noises from the fight in the other room could still be heard as Willow ushered Xander and Cordelia to the exit in the other direction.

“Is she going to be okay?” asked Xander when he heard a loud crash and Buffy groan in pain. Willow looked back, seeing Spike striding arrogantly toward a downed Buffy. She was about to tell Xander that they should go help when she heard a familiar roar of rage. The cavalry had arrived.

“She’ll be fine,” she assured him but when he looked doubtful, she explained. “Angel’s here. She’ll be fine.” He nodded and they scrambled out of the school as fast they could, still looking around for any stray minions as they went to meet up with Giles and the teachers.

~~~*~~~

Spike stood over the slayer, a satisfied grin crossing his handsome face. Two-by-four in hand, he snarled and lifted it above his head, reveling in the frightened look she shot his way before he went to bring it down in a crushing blow to her head. He didn’t succeed.

Instead, he distantly heard a furious growl and was tackled from the side by a lumbering figure. With a grunt he fell to the ground, the heavy body still on top of him. Spike pushed harshly on the man above him, the body flying a few feet away as Spike jumped to his feet.

He froze when he saw who had taken him down. The tall, glowering brunette stood, not so gingerly pulling Buffy up from the floor and pushing her behind him.

“Angelus?” the bleach blonde whispered in amazement. There was his sire, who he hadn’t seen in decades, and he was…protecting a slayer? Angel growled warningly, poised to fight if he had to. Seeing that he was outnumbered, plus he was just really confused and pissed, Spike took one last glance at his sire before backing away slowly and jumping out the broken window he had stormed through earlier.

He’d say this for the hellmouth, it was full of surprises.

~Part: 12~

Buffy groaned as she turned on her side, reaching out with her arm to shut off her ringing alarm. It couldn’t be morning already, she felt like she had just gone to bed. The previous night had left her aching and sore, that’s what getting pummeled by a two-by-four does to a person.

“Stupid Spike,” she grumbled as she sat up, rubbing her eyes. “What kind of a name is Spike anyway? Bleached blonde moron…” she complained as she slid out of bed. She was just relieved that her mother seemed blissfully unaware that the men that stormed the school last night weren’t men at all. She really didn’t want to have to explain the existence of vampires to her; that was Giles’ area of expertise.

Padding her way down the hall and into the bathroom, the slayer turned on the shower and brushed her teeth as she waited for the water to warm up. Normally she would be happy that it was Friday, but she could barely move, so in her humble opinion, this Friday sucked. Oh well, not like she had a choice but to hold her head high and stick with it. The day would be over soon enough. Besides, maybe Giles would feel bad for her and let her out of slaying tonight. She only hoped Spike was having as miserable of a morning as she was.

~~~*~~~

Drusilla shuffled dazedly out of the back of the factory, worry etched across her face when she saw Spike’s ragged form hovering in the largest room in the entire factory. The Anointed One was there, seated at the other side of the room with two others who didn’t look very happy.

Sun was visible through the high windows but it didn’t filter down to the ground floor so the vampires were safe from its deadly rays. Spike turned toward her when he heard her moving about, forcing a smile onto his face.

“Spike, did she hurt you?” she questioned with a sympathetic pout.

“It was close, but...” he shrugged, downplaying his defeat.

“Oh, come here,” she cooed, bringing him close and letting him rest his head on her shoulder, stroking his hair gently.

“A Slayer with family and friends,” he grimaced. “That sure as hell wasn't in the brochure.”

“You'll kill her, and then we'll have a nice celebration,” said Dru with a small smile; sure that he would do just that. Spike had never let her down before. He would kill the slayer and make her better, just like he promised.

“Yeah, a party,” he agreed softly.

She grinned dreamily as he pulled away, “Yeah. With streamers...and songs.”

“How's the annoying one?” he wondered, glancing over at the boy and sneering.

“He doesn't wanna play,” whined Drusilla with a frown.

“Figures,” Spike snorted. “Well, suppose I better go make nice.” He stepped away from her and took tentative steps toward the Colin, bowing his head and kneeling down on one knee.

“You failed,” announced the boy, no emotion in his young voice.

“I, uh... I offer penance,” he forced himself to say, choking on every word.

“Penance?!” shouted an enraged minion. “You should lay down your life! Our numbers are depleted, the feast of St. Vigeous has been *ruined* by your impatience!” he reminded Spike with a glare full of hate.

“I was rash,” offered Spike, trying to remain serious, “and if I had to do it all over again…” he continued, unable to stifle the chuckle making its way up from his throat. “Who am I kidding?” he said with a roar of laughter. “I would do it exactly the same, only I'd do this...”

“No!” screamed Colin as Spike stood abruptly, lifting the boy in his arms and slung him over his shoulder, knocking out the presumptuous minion who dared to try to stop him and continuing on toward the cage hanging in the middle of the room.

“...first!” Spike thrust the boy inside, locking it behind him and taking hold of the chains it hung from. Drusilla watched on in glee.

“From now on,” started Spike, facing the small crowd that now gathered. “We're gonna have a little less ritual...” he said as he tugged on the chains sharply, pulling the cage higher and higher until it reached the top. The sun shined across the second story of the factory and the Anointed One screamed in pain as the rays ate at his flesh until all that was left was a pile of dust. “…And a little more fun around here.”

Spike grinned deviously as the room was filled with silence. He had now cemented his position as Master and got rid of the annoying one, all in one go. This was turning out to be a very productive morning. He let go of the chains and strode toward Dru, his hand out in offering.

“Let's see what's on TV,” he suggested nonchalantly as he led her away, wiling away the hours in the day. Night couldn’t come soon enough for him.

~~~*~~~

“Hey Buffy,” greeted Willow with a small wave. Buffy smiled and joined the redhead and their brown-haired buddy in quad of Sunnydale High.

“Well aren’t you the perky one, Wills,” remarked Buffy with a grimace.

“Too perky if you ask me,” interjected Xander. “I’m thinking possession, what do ya say, Buff?”

“I’m starting to think you’re right on that, Xan. Especially after the night we had,” she groaned at the mere thought of her encounter with Spike.

“Oh come on,” said Willow, with a hop in her step as they moved to wander the halls. “I’m on a total adrenaline rush!”

“Says the girl who *wasn’t* locked in a closet with Cordy,” muttered Xander disgruntled.

“There was a time when you *liked* being locked in a closet with Cordy,” the redhead whispered in his ear. “Besides, last time *I* was the one stuck with her. It’s only fair you had to experience my pain.”

“Oh ha, ha,” he mumbled with a frown.

“Hey, I was thinking,” announced Buffy excitedly. “Since I’m not gonna die on Saturday, how about you, me, the Xan-man here, movie-fest at my place? What do you think?”

“I’ll be there,” assured Willow, glancing at Xander with a grin before amending her statement. “We’ll be there.”

“Much coolness,” decided Buffy with a nod. They strode into the library, it was now close to lunch and unlike most of the students at Sunnydale High, they actually spent most of their time in the library. Trouble was they were never actually there to study, at least anything other than the demonic.

“Giles! Just the watcher I wanted to see,” said Buffy as she hopped up on the counter where Giles was pouring over some books.

“Uh, yes…what?” he mumbled. He looked up, smiling at this slayer and nodding a greeting to the other two who were slowly becoming like children to him.

“You know, I had a really hard night last night,” she told him conversationally, her tone light and cheery. “So I was thinking that me and my achy bones could use a night off.”

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” he commented as he abandoned his reading and shuffled to his office. “Spike is very much a threat,” he called as he searched through his filing cabinets, brow furrowed.

“Which is why I should rest up, a strong slayer is a good slayer,” she argued. He cast a frustrated glance at her and returned to his task.

“You need to patrol tonight,” he decided. “But it can a quick one, I’ll go with you. Alright?”

“Fine,” she conceded with a sigh. The librarian slammed his file drawer shut with a resounding boom and stalked out of his office to the book cage, rifling through all the old texts.

“What are you looking for G-man?” asked Xander as he and Willow leaned against the counter.

“A book obviously,” he snapped, but then looked back at them apologetically. “One of my Watcher’s diaries, the Aurelius Chronicles, is missing. It has all my information on Spike,” he explained in a huff.

Xander’s head snapped around to glance at Willow who suddenly paled. She knew she forgot something. That book was currently sitting on her couch and she had no way to get it back to the library without someone knowing, at least not right now.

“No worries,” shrugged Xander, always calm in an impending crisis, “I’m sure it will turn up.” The bell rang and Buffy whimpered.

“I guess we’re off,” she said as she slid of the counter. “I’ll meet you here at sunset Giles. And you promised a quick patrol and I’m sticking you to it. I’m talking tiny, miniscule even.”

“Yes, yes, just get to class,” he said in exasperation as he left the book cage to shoo them out of his library. The trio scooted out and split up, Buffy heading to the left to her English class, Willow and Xander to the right to their Biology class.

“Do you still have that book?” hissed Xander.

“Um, yeah,” she admitted with a sheepish shrug. “But I think while they’re on patrol I can sneak it back in. I need twenty minutes max.”

“As long as you don’t run into any trouble,” he agreed. “Ow!” he shrieked as she smacked him as hard as she could on the arm.

“Are you trying to jinx me?” He backed away a little and held his hands up in defense.

“I didn’t mean it, jeez!” he muttered, rubbing his arm gingerly.

“Yeah, well, I run into any trouble and I’m blaming it on you!” she warned him before they stepped into the classroom. Still cradling his arm he took his seat hoping that she had a trouble-free night, he really didn’t want to be on her shit list.

~~~*~~~

Willow had left Xander at the library to stand guard after Giles and Buffy left for patrol as she ran to find the book Giles had been searching for. It was now twenty-five minutes after sunset but she believed she was making good time. She unlocked her front door and threw it open, not even bothering to close it as she headed for the couch, grinning in triumph when she grabbed the book in question.

With a sigh of relief she left the house, locking the door once more behind her and taking off in a dead run toward the school. She ran down a few residential streets, easily remembering the fastest route back, through St. Edward’s cemetery. Luckily, Buffy was patrolling Rest-field and wouldn’t notice her traipsing through a graveyard.

Her pace never slowed, determined to have this back in Giles’ library long before he returned, it would be a weight of her shoulders. She wasn’t even looking ahead really, just running. That’s why she never saw the figure in front of her before she plowed into it.

“Damn it,” she groused, holding her side which was aching from the unexpected impact. “I so don’t have time for this.”

Her book had been dropped in the scuffle; it now lay to her right a few inches away. Shaking her head she reached over to grab it but it was quickly snatched away from her. Her head snapped up and she groaned. Black boots, leather duster, red and black shirts, bleached blonde hair, stupid smirk. Of course, it was just her luck.

“In a rush, pet?” drawled Spike as he dusted himself off from their fall, grinning down at the redhead still on the ground. He fingered the old book, glancing at the cover and raising a surprised eyebrow, turning attention back to the witch he kept running into, literally this time.

“Gimme that,” she demanded, ignoring his offered hand as she stood, clutching her side.

“The Aurelius Chronicles…” he read, amusement in his voice. “Reading up on me, should I be flattered?”

“Gimme it,” she repeated, her eyes hard as she extended a hand to take it. He made no move to do as she said.

“What’s it worth to you Red?” he wondered, eyeing her speculatively. He had been out on a rather productive hunt when he spotted her scent on the breeze. He headed in her general direction, never expecting to turn a corner and end up with a girl on top of him. Not that he was complaining, mind you. But as he looked at her, that familiar curiosity swept over him. Even now, something nagged at him. There was something about her that tugged at his memory, like he had seen her somewhere before but he just couldn’t remember it. And she seemed to know everything about him, but he knew nothing about her. Well, except that she was a witch and a friend of the slayer’s.

“What do you want?” she asked warily. He smirked and she realized she really should have thought of a better way to phrase that question.

“So many things,” he teased in a low voice. “But I settle for just one. Your name.”

“Excuse me?” she questioned. “My name. If I tell you my name you’ll give me the book, no tricks or anything?”

“Just your name Red and you’ll get your bloody book. I promise,” he swore to her with a grin.

“Fat lot of good that does me,” she mumbled. “Fine. My name is Willow…Willow Ro--”

“—senberg,” he finished for her with a perplexed expression. Her mouth closed when he spoke, looking at him with nervous eyes. He narrowed his blue eyes, his memories seemed just out of reach, frustratingly so.

“You-u said you’d give me my book-k,” she reminded him softly. His eyes never left hers as he stretched his arm and handed her the precious cargo, letting his fingers brush hers, hoping the touch would jolt his memories. It didn’t.

“I’ve got to go,” she whispered, pushing past him and running off once more, leaving him alone once more with that annoying feeling of forgetfulness.

“Bloody hell!” he snarled, so damn sick of this. Shaking it off with a growl, he stalked away to find something to eat. That redhead was driving him crazy. And he couldn’t find any answers to the mystery that was…Willow. But he had an idea, a good one. He just might be able to find out who that girl really was, and Dru might be the key.

~~~*~~~

Willow saw Xander waiting outside the doors to the library with arms crossed. When he saw the witch finally make her way down the hall, he sighed.

“It’s about time, what the hell took you so long?” he asked in a huff.

“Are they back yet?” she demanded, her voice barely above a whisper.

“No,” he frowned at her avoidance of his question. She walked around the brunette, pushing open the doors and moving to the book cage, placing the book under a few random texts so it wouldn’t look like someone had just put it back where it belonged.

“Seriously, Wills,” Xander said gently, grabbing her arm in a light grip as she tried to move past him once more. “What happened?”

She debated whether to tell him about her latest disturbing encounter with Spike, but she just couldn’t tell him. She didn’t want to worry him. “Nothing, it’s nothing."

~Part: 13~ Halloween

Willow moaned in relief as she laid down, sinking into her mattress with a smile. She had just gotten home; Xander was actually spending the night at his parent’s house for a change that night. He did that every once in awhile, just to be safe. The redhead was tired, not that her night was particularly eventful, she just wasn’t sleeping well. She had a lot on her mind after all. More specifically, she had vampires on the brain.

Angel was still so wary around her and she was beginning to fear that he wouldn’t rest until he found out what she was hiding. She knew he was probably thinking the worst, that she was some sort of spy for the bad guys. He couldn’t be farther from the truth. But still, the brunette was nothing if not persistent and he made her nervous.

Then there was Spike. He was becoming an even bigger problem. She didn’t understand why they kept running into each other. That never happened before, but now everywhere she went, it seemed like he was there. And even more disturbing, he knew her name. He was confused, she could tell, which meant he wasn’t sure how he knew her, but still, this had the potential for disaster if he figured out the truth. And if there was a demon more stubborn than Angel, it was Spike.

Shaking her head and forcing herself to close her eyes in hopes she’d drift off to sleep, Willow let her thoughts wander. She needed to rest up, after all, Halloween was coming up and if there was one thing she learned over the years, its that holidays + Buffy=major badness.

~~~*~~~

She landed with a muffled ‘oof’. Gritting with fierce determination, Buffy arched her back and kicked her legs out, flipping herself off the ground and upright once more. Finding her stake in her pocket, she slipped it out and ran to the vampire in front of her. Looking around the pumpkin patch they were currently doing battle in, he grabbed the nearest object, a scarecrow, and shoved it at the slayer, causing her to impale it with her stake. He threw it at her and she grunted at the impact before pushing it aside and fighting him hand to hand.

A little red light was noticeable from the bushes a few feet away but Buffy was too distracted to see. A second vampire crouched low in the cover, looking through the lens of a video camera. The image of the slayer and fledge was becoming fuzzy and snowy but after hitting it a couple of times, it functioned normally. The vamp continued to watch in perfect silence.

Buffy was thrown back into a hay wagon, hanging onto the side, she kicked out, knocking the vamp to the ground. Seeing that he was down, she delivered one last kick before spotting a sign stuck into the ground advertising the pumpkin patch and rips it from the ground. He tried to reach for her legs, to knock her off balance, but she evaded his grasp and drove the makeshift stake through its heart. With a sigh, knowing her hair was a mess, she took one last look around and left.

The vampire in the bushes waited a minute before turning it off and slipping away from his hiding place. His boss would definitely want to see this.

~~~*~~~

Angel sat at a table in the Bronze, a cappuccino sitting in front of him for show. He glanced at the entrance and then to the dance floor. Nothing. He checked his watch. She wasn’t here yet. He forced a sigh from his useless lungs and looked down.

“I know. Is the Bronze so not happening? Or what?” said Cordelia as she approached the brooding brunette. She had seen him moping in his coffee and her eyes lit up, she couldn’t resist the chance to flirt with Angel. Especially since her own date decided to ditch her.

“Oh,” he mumbled, looking her way and feigning a smile. “Hi.”

“Hi!” she greeted with a big smile, the one that people always complimented on.

“I'm waiting for Buffy,” he told her, hoping she would take the hint and maybe go back to her friends.

“Great!” she exclaimed much to his dismay. “I'm supposed to be meeting Devon, but he's nowhere to be seen. It's like he thinks being in a band gives him an obligation to flake.” Surprising even to him he laughed. Okay, Cordy’s annoying, but she was a little funny.

“Well, his loss is your incredible gain!” she said with a nod as she sat in the empty seat.

They sat and talked for awhile and while Angel didn’t find the conversation particularly interesting it passed the time. He hadn’t even checked his watch in, oh, ten minutes. He frowned, okay that didn’t count, he decided as he looked away from his watch once more.

“So I told Devon, 'You call that leather interior? My Barbie Dream Car had nicer seats!'” giggled Cordy, throwing her hair back. The front door opened and Buffy entered, looking around for any sign of Angel. And she found him, laughing, with Cordy. Fun. With a deep frown she abruptly turned around, silently cursing when she heard his voice.

“Buffy?” called Angel, interrupting Cordy’s speech as he caught a glance of blonde hair. The girl hesitated but didn’t turn.

“Buffy!” he said again, leaving the table, sure that was indeed her standing by the door. Knowing she was caught, Buffy turned to face him, pasting on a smile.

“Hi! I'm...”

“Late,” he finished for her, raising an eyebrow at her fidgety behavior as she stood there.

“Rough day at the office,” she explained with a shrug, looking away.

“So I see,” he muttered as he pulled a piece of straw from her hair with a grin.

“Hey, it's a look. A seasonal look,” she defended as she touched a hand to her hair.

“Buffy. Love the hair,” cooed Cordelia as she stepped up to the couple. “It just screams street urchin,” she sneered with a smile before spinning on her heel and walking away.

“Know what? I need to go…put a bag over my head,” the slayer murmured embarrassedly.

“Don't listen to her. Please. You look fine,” pleaded Angel, practically begging her to stay.

“You're sweet. A terrible liar, but sweet,” she told him, her head down, her spirits down as well.

“I thought we had...” he started, but she broke in.

“A date,” she snorted. “So did I. But who am I kidding?” Buffy shook her head sadly, her laugh self-depreciating.

“Dates are things normal girls have. Girls who have time to think about nail polish and facials. You know what I think about?” she asked with a humorless laugh. “Ambush tactics. Beheading. Not exactly the stuff dreams are made of.” With a sigh she couldn’t bring herself to look at him, so she shuffled nervously. “I’ve gotta go,” she mumbled before turning and leaving Angel alone in the Bronze. Cordelia grinned from a few feet away. It was time to cheer up Angel.

 ~~~*~~~

“You just left?” asked Willow as she, Xander, and Buffy walked down the halls of Sunnydale High.

“Yeah,” Buffy confirmed with a hand to her forehead.

“I approve,” said Xander before Willow smacked him upside the head.

“You shouldn’t have left, Buff,” the redhead told Buffy. “Angel doesn’t care if your hair is messed up or that you were late. He’s totally head over heels for you. You should know that by now. Heck, he actually says more than two words to you at a time. If that doesn’t prove that he really likes you I don’t know what will.” Buffy giggled at that, knowing in a way that was the truth.

“Hey!” yelped a girl as she passed a table set up in the hallway, Principal Snyder grabbing her by the arm and pulling her back to him.

“You’re volunteering,” he told her bluntly as he thrust out a clipboard. Xander looked to Willow and smirked.

“Snyder must be in charge of the volunteer safety program for Halloween this year,” the redhead commented with a grin.

“Note his interesting take on the volunteer concept,” Xander snickered.

“What's the deal?” Buffy wondered as she took in the scene.

“Oh, a bunch of little kids need people to take them trick-or-treating. Sign up and get your own pack of sugar-hyped little runts for the night,” he explained with a groan.

“Yikes. I'll stick to vampires,” Buffy cringed.

“Miss Summers,” said Snyder with a scowl. “Just the juvenile delinquent I've been looking for.”

“Principal Snyder!” Buffy greeted with a feigned enthusiasm.

“Halloween must be a big night for you,” he drawled, his eyes narrow. “Tossing eggs, keying cars, bobbing for apples, one pathetic cry for help after another. Well, not this year, missy.” He stuck the clipboard and a pen in her face and she took a step back.

“Gosh, I'd love to sign up,” she told him, “but I recently developed carpal tunnel syndrome, and can tragically no longer hold a flashlight,” she finished with an exaggerated nod.

“The program starts at four, the children have to be back at six,” he informed her with a glare as she reluctantly took the clipboard. Xander and Willow tripped to sneak away but Snyder saw them and presented them with pens and a fiendish grin. Just great. They were babysitting on Halloween…again.

“Great,” whined Buffy as they moved to the repaired lounge. “I was gonna stay in and veg. The one night a year things are supposed to be quiet for me.”

“Halloween quiet?” remarked Xander. He still didn’t understand that one. You would think demons would revel in the chance to run around in the open. Maybe they thought it was too commercialized. “You know, I always figured it'd be a big old vamp scare-apalooza.”

“Not according to Giles,” she shrugged. “He swears that tomorrow night is, like, dead for the undead. They stay in.”

“Those wacky vampires!” laughed Xander, wishing he actually could have a night off too. Well, if he was destined to turn into his costume again, he was determined to get better looking fatigues, maybe even a bigger gun. “That's why I love 'em! They just keep you guessing!”

“Yup,” agreed Willow with a smile to him. “They’re just so darn unpredictable.”

~~~*~~~

“Here it comes,” said Spike, watching the tape that played on the television in front of him intently. “Rewind that. Let's see that again,” he ordered. The minion did as he was told, quickly rewinding the tape and playing it back.

Spike grinned as he watched Buffy pummeling a fledgling. “She's tricky,” he drawled, watching her spin and kick her opponent with grace and agility. “Baby likes to play.”

“You see that?” he said, more to himself that anyone else. “The way she stakes him with that thing? That's what's called resourceful,” he commended with a shake of his head. “Rewind it again.”

“Miss Edith needs her tea,” came a whisper of a voice as Drusilla entered the room.

“C'mere, poodle,” he said, calling to her with a smile. She was doing well today, still so dangerously weak, but she seemed almost normal today. Or at least as normal as she got. She joined him in front of the screen and watched it without really looking.

“I've got to study this Slayer,” he muttered, looking to her with a soft smile full of hope for her recovery. “Once I know her I can kill her. And once I kill her you can have your run of Sunnyhell. Get strong again.”

“Don't worry,” she murmured, swaying slightly. “Everything's switching. Outside to inside. It makes her weak…”

“Really?” he asked with evident glee. “Did pet have a vision?”

“Do you know what I miss?” she asked him with a sleepy grin, her attention wavering. “Leeches.”

“Come on, talk to Spike,” he pressed. “This thing that makes the Slayer weak? When is it?”

“Tomorrow,” she purred as she danced by herself.

“Tomorrow's Halloween. Nothing happens on Halloween,” he scoffed with a disappointed shake of his head.

“Someone's come to change it all,” she let out a pleased growl. “Someone new,” Dru grinned. A faint frown crossed her face but Spike noticed it immediately. “Someone old as well…”

“Old? What do you mean old Dru? Ancient?” he prodded, she seemed distressed by the thought, like something wasn’t making any sense, even to her.

“No,” she pouted. “Not that kind of old. They aren’t new, but they went back. Changing everything…or trying to,” she said, even he had a hard time unscrambling that one. “They broke the rules, not supposed to play with things like that…they’ll pay for it. The stars have seen to it. Naughty boys and girls.”

“Dru? Pet? I don’t understand,” he told her, frustrated with himself. Usually he could dissect her ramblings faster than anyone. Today just wasn’t his day.

“Things are different, can’t you tell William?” she whispered, resuming her twirling. “They are the same, but not. We’ve all changed. You were mine before, now you’re not…maybe it’s better this way…”

“I was yours?” he asked in confusion, struggling to keep up. She was talking in circles. “Your what?”

“Childe…love…everything…no longer…” she muttered before stilling and fixing him with a hard stare. “Brought you heartache, made you cry and hurt, maybe its better this way. No pain for William…”

“Your childe?” he murmured to himself, searching for the reason that sounded so familiar. Then it hit him, the redhead…Willow, when they met in the park. She said she knew him, knew all about him. ‘Drusilla’s your sire…you’re in love with her’. He still had no clue what was going on, but he had the distinct feeling he was being played. He hated games, unless he was the one in control, and this time he most certainly was not.

“Tomorrow?” he turned to Dru. “Tomorrow is the night?” he pressed, desperate for answers, for an explanation for that nagging feeling of forgetfulness, of wrongness that plagued him.

“The night for changes,” she acknowledged. “The night for answers,” she whispered with a knowing grin. “So many delicious secrets to be told…but you must be sure to ask the right questions…” That settled it. On Halloween, he was gonna kill him a slayer and find him a redhead, he had to, if only for the sake of his sanity.

~Part: 14~

Buffy left Willow and Xander at school, telling Giles to say goodbye to them for her before she made her way downtown, deciding to pay a visit to the newest costume shop. It wasn’t like she had a choice in the matter; she had to wear a stupid costume tonight. Snyder had declared it law practically, dressing up was mandatory when escorting little rug rats around town that night.

Pushing the glass door open, hearing the bell ding as she entered, the blonde looked around, seeing the usual get ups, you know, a ghost, a witch, vampires, nothing she didn’t deal with every day of her rather eventful life. It was crowded in there, mothers and fathers with their kids searching for the perfect last minute costume. Winding her way through the crowd, eyes darting around looking in vain for something that just screamed ‘Buffy’, her path led her toward the back of the shop where she froze.

It was gorgeous, beautiful, and so not her. But still, she couldn’t resist taking a closer look. Buffy took a hesitant step toward the gown that was on display near the counter. Biting her lip, she ran her fingers over the fabric, sighing at the feel of silk and lace. It was pink, with accenting colors of burgundy and white. The dress pooled on the floor and it even had a slight train. She could see a hint of gold woven into the lace and if she closed her eyes she could picture herself wearing the dress, her hair in ringlets maybe, looking every bit the eighteenth century girl.

Just as she was about the shake herself out of the daze this gown had put her in, an older gentleman, a kindly looking man, if a little pushy, strode toward her, a gentle smile on his face. He didn’t look any older than Giles and the accent he sported when he spoke reminded her of her beloved watcher.

“Please,” he started with a small grin as he unzipped the back of the gown, letting it fall away from the mannequin holding it up. “Let me.”

She shook her head and took a step back, “Oh, it’s-s…”

“Magnificent,” he finished for her with a nod. “Yes. I know,” he pulled the dress off the mannequin and placed it in front of her, taking a step to the side slightly so she could see herself in the mirror behind him. “There,” he said with a smile. “My…meet the hidden princess,” he drawled. Buffy blushed a little. She knew he was probably just trying to make a sale, but she couldn’t help but agree with him. “I think we’ve found a match. Don’t you?”

“Oh, uh, I-I’m sorry,” she stammered, “There is no way I could ever afford this,” she told him sadly, a wistful look on her face as she glanced back down at the gown.

“Oh, nonsense,” he scoffed with a calculating look. “I feel quite moved to make you a deal you…can’t refuse,” he informed her with a congenial smile. She moved to argue with him, but her mouth closed when no words came out. Reluctantly, she took a step forward, taking the gown from his hands and holding it against her. She smiled shyly as she gazed at her form in the mirror. It was decided then and there, she had to have it. It was too beautiful to pass up.

Handing it back to the shopkeeper, she followed him to the counter so he could ring it up for her. She couldn’t wait to show Willow what she found. And she could only imagine Angel’s reaction. This would be a Halloween to remember.

~~~*~~~

“Xander…” Willow groaned as the brunette stepped into her room. He frowned as he saw her roll her eyes at him. He looked down at his outfit and then back up at the redhead.

“What?” he shrugged. He moved to the mirror and looked himself over with an approving nod.

“You’re going as a soldier again?” she asked with a sigh. He was dressed once again in fatigues. The olive green tank top fit him perfectly and the camouflage pants he wore were baggy and comfortable looking.

“Hey, I think I look good,” he defended, cringing at the slight whine in his voice. “Besides, I don’t think you have room to talk,” he reminded her with a leer. Her face matched her hair at his obvious appreciation for her choice in wardrobe. She was wearing a short black leather mini, a burgundy tank top that ended a little bit above her waist, showing off a decent amount of flesh, and finished off with knee-high black boots.

“This isn’t *exactly* what I wore last time,” she denied. “But it’s come as you aren’t night, right? Well, this is how I…aren’t…” she finished with a frown at her misuse of grammar.

“Whatever you say, Wills,” he chuckled. “At least this time, I’ll still be me. No little enchanted toy gun for this guy. Although, it was kinda cool, knowing all that stuff. Attack maneuvers, battle strategies, it was all very manly.”

“Yeah,” she snorted, “You get weapons training, I died,” she reminded him. “So not fun.”

“But hey, you got to walk through walls, sneak up on everyone, fun could be had with that,” he tried to make her laugh. Xander grinned at her reluctant giggle. “At least you weren’t some damsel in distress, like Buffy. That got annoying quick.”

Willow stopped her primping at the mention of the slayer. She hadn’t gotten to even speak with the blonde in detail in between the craziness of the day. Which meant there was a very good chance that at this very moment Buffy was getting ready for their night of trick-or-treating, wearing that gown, oh crap.

“Uh, Will?” Xander called, waving a hand in front of her face. “What’s with the space cadet act?”

“What would you say if I told you that I kinda forgot to tell Buffy about tonight, about Ethan’s wacky scheme?” she asked softly. His face became hard as he stared at her incredulously.

“Tell me you’re kidding,” he demanded. She shook her head and he ran a hand over his face with a sigh of anger. “How could you j-just forget?!”

“Me? At least I’m trying to help!” she countered, her voice raised, hurt that he was yelling at her. “You—you just sit there and pretend to help, but you don’t! At least I’m trying to help Buffy. You think I’m happy that she’s possibly gonna turn into some helpless eighteenth century girl because I forgot to warn her about the danger awaiting her? But I’m trying Xan, which is more than I can say for you!”

He clenched his jaw and turned on his heel, stalking to her bedroom door and flinging it open. He looked over his shoulder to the aggravated witch.

“Come on,” he said gruffly. “We need to get to Buffy’s house,” Xander told her, waiting as she put a couple things away and joined him at the door. “But Will, we’re not done here. You understand?”

Willow shook her head sadly and pushed past him, heading for the front door, knowing he was right behind her. He was right though; once they found Buffy and stopped Ethan she and Xander would have a serious talk. It was long past due.

~~~*~~~

The older British man pushed back the curtains to the back of his shop. He had his palms pressed tightly together, wincing slightly as he kneeled down and separated his hands, blood now coating them.

Ethan took a deep breath and looked upon the statue before him. He could only see one side of the two-faced bust, but it did not matter. “The world that denies thee, thou inhabit,” he breathed with a gleeful smile. His fingers of his right hand dabbed at the blood on his left palm, smearing the blood across his right eyelid.

“The peace that ignores thee…” he continued, his face flickering in the dim candlelight. He repeated his earlier action across his left eyelid. “…Thou corrupt.”

Ethan smeared another dab of blood across his forehead, his total attention focused on the bust settled in front of him. “Chaos. I remain, as ever, thy faithful, degenerate son…” He looked to the small sheet of paper and grinned.

“Persona se corpum et sanguium commutandum est. Vestra sancta praesentia concrescet viscera. Janus! Sume noctem!” he finished, his voice husky with anticipation. The candles flickered along the two faces of the statue, a sudden breeze blowing through the store though there was no draft. The unnatural breeze made its way through the entire town in one clean sweep and Ethan grinned triumphantly, face covered in swashes of his own blood. This was going to be fun.

~~~*~~~

Buffy clamored out of her house, her feet already tripping down the stairs of her porch as she called out a quick goodbye to her mother. She had her dress gathered in her fists as she made her way back to the high school to pick up her very own little monsters for the evening. She grinned at the thought. Okay, so she really hadn’t been looking forward to babysitting a bunch of little kids, but she looked and felt great. It would take a lot to spoil her good mood.

She barely avoided colliding with a group children who were too busy laughing and comparing candy to notice her. Granting them an indulgent smile she weaved her way around them and continued on. The blonde had hoped to see Willow and Xander before they had to split up with the kids but sadly it didn’t happen. Not that it was a big deal; after all, she’d see them tomorrow at school anyway.

Glancing up at the luminous night sky, the moon bright and shining, and the slayer grinned and smoothed down her dress. She hoped she got to see Angel tonight; she did dress up for him and everything. He would love it; it’d probably remind him of his younger human days. At least she hoped he’d love it.

Stopping mid-step as a shiver made its way up her spine; Buffy looked around for any sign of danger. There was none that she could see but the sudden feeling of menace didn’t leave her. A strong gust of wind caught her by surprise and her head began to feel light. Pressing her hands to her temples, the blonde let out a groan as the dizziness came over her and she passed out, falling to the sidewalk in an undignified heap.

~~~*~~~

Willow and Xander were making good time, practically flying down the streets to Buffy’s house when the redhead pulled him to an abrupt stop. Her hand wrapped around his forearm and gripped it tightly, causing him to wince as his steps faltered. He still wasn’t happy with her, but he knew her well enough to know that something was up.

The witch felt something come over her, something unnatural, something evil. During her time in England, she had learned that everything was connected, the ground, the animals, people, demons, magic; all of it was so intimately intertwined. As a powerful witch she was extremely in tune with the earth so she knew the second something changed. There was something in the air, it was thick with anxiety and evil and she cringed as the feeling worked its way through her.

“Just stop, Xan,” she said softly, knowing he was looking at her curiously. “Listen…feel…” she told him. He remained silent and did as she said. He understood immediately what was bothering her; there was a deep sense of wrongness here.

A harsh wind swept over them and the pair shuddered in the breeze. Her green eyes, which had previously been shut, snapped open at the sound of a growl. All around them the children that had been previously giggling and chattering were now deformed. Some were green, others had horns, some even had the distinct ridges found on a vampire. She looked around nervously, seeing that the newly demonic kids were looking for any sign of prey, and unfortunately she and Xander just screamed prey.

“Time to book,” Xander interrupted her thoughts grimly. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into a run, the sound of harsh growls following them as they sped down the street. She didn’t want to leave him on his own, especially when they were being hunted, but she had to get to Giles. He could stop all this, stop Ethan.

“Find Buffy!” the redhead shouted, her breath coming in pants. He glanced at her as they continued to run. “You find her, I have to find Giles! Just go!” she told him, pulling her hand from his and sparing him a glance before she turned in the opposite direction toward the school. With his own growl of frustration Xander watched her go for a second before continuing his search for the slayer.

“I swear,” he muttered to himself, “I’m gonna kill that girl; that is if a damn demon doesn’t do it for me…”

~~~*~~~

His delighted chuckle was barely discernable above the roars and snarls that rang out. Boots hit the pavement beneath them, a skip in his step as he strode down Main Street and into the residential areas. As he neared the tree-lined streets of the suburbs, the number of possessed, if you could call it that, increased tenfold.

Spike didn’t bother with his human façade, easily blending in with the crowd in his demonic face. The maniacal grin across his handsome face only widened as he continued on. This had to be the most…interesting Halloween he had ever been a part of. Looks like Dru’s vision was right on the money.

“Well,” he drawled, his tongue poking slightly out between his lips. “This is just…neat…”

~Part: 15~

“Buffy!” Xander screeched as he came upon the slayer who was currently sprawled across the pavement. He dropped to his knees, pulling her into a sitting position and brushing the now brown strands of hair away from her face.

“Buffy, are you hurt?” he asked, looking her over for any sign of injury.

“Buffy?” she murmured, a hand going to her head as she regained her bearings.

“Damn it,” he cursed softly. “I forgot, you’re not Buffy. This is fun,” he snorted. “Okay, what year is this?”

“1775, I believe,” she stammered, eyes darting around her surroundings in confusion. She pulled away from his hold on her, nervous around the strange man. She let him pull her up to stand. “I-I don’t understand…who are you?”

“We’re…friends,” he admitted, his voice cracking at the admission.

“F-Friends of whom?” she scoffed, stepping away from him. “Your dress…everything is strange! How-w did I come to be here?” she pleaded, desperation lacing her unusually fragile sounding voice.

“Come on,” he demanded, taking her arm in his hard grip as he pulled her back toward her house. “We need to get inside before we come across anything…”

“A demon!” she screamed in terror, moving to hide behind him and shield herself from the vile creature. “A demon!” Her head peeked out over his shoulder for a moment before returning to her previous job of cowering.

“That’s not a demon,” he heaved a great sigh, wrenching her arm off his waist and moving her to his side. “It’s a car,” he explained patiently.

“What does it want?” she pouted at his reprimand, her voice small and scared. He immediately regretted being so cross with her. He opened his mouth to try and explain to her exactly what a car was but halted. They didn’t have time for this and he just didn’t have the energy or patience to even think about describing the mechanics of a moving vehicle.

“Let’s get inside,” he said gruffly, starting off in the opposite direction, pulling the slightly protesting Buffy behind him. He just hoped Willow was having better luck with Giles.

~~~*~~~

Willow ran down the hall of Sunnydale High, heels clicking loudly in the quiet. She pushed open the double doors to the library, panting slightly and looking around wildly for the watcher.

The older Brit looked up from his research, startled by her sudden and noisy appearance. He shook his head and removed his glasses and began polishing them furiously, remaining silent as the redhead caught her breath.

“Monsters…” she breathed, her body hunched over and her hand resting on her stomach to ease the slight ache. Giles merely raised an eyebrow and waited. “Kids turned into monsters…” she exclaimed, her heart rate slowly returning to normal.

“Excuse me?” he stammered, closing his book and stepping around the counter.

“They turned into their costumes!” she told him. “It’s a spell, I don’t know what kind…” she added with frustration.

“Who could be responsible for such a foolish act?” he wondered as he ran a hand over his face.

“His name is Ethan…Ethan Rayne. Ring a bell?” she glanced at him, seeing the man pale.

“E-Ethan? But how? He couldn’t possibly be that daft,” he scoffed, but stopped mid-thought, rethinking his previous statement. “Yes he could,” he groaned.

“There was a shop, a costume shop. It just opened up a few days ago. He named it Ethan’s, how creative,” she continued with a roll of her eyes. “Everyone that bought their costumes there has changed. We’re talking vampires, mummies, demons of all shapes and sizes. Its nuts out there. And Buffy--” her voice trailed off.

“What about Buffy? Is she alright?” he demanded, taking a step toward her.

“She isn’t really Buffy anymore,” she informed him with a grimace, “at least not Slayer-Buffy. Right now she’s more, 18th century helpless, whiny Buffy.”

“Damn it!” growled Giles as he stepped back behind the counter, searching through the hidden drawers and cabinets and removing a stake and cross, just in case. “Bloody arrogant fool,” he muttered, his mind focused on stopping Ethan. His old friend had always been reckless and now Buffy was in danger because of it. He messed with powers he couldn’t conceive of and they all were paying the price.

“Can you show me where he is?” he asked briskly. She nodded and waited as he threw on his coat to protect him from the cold. “Lead the way.”

~~~*~~~

Meanwhile, Xander had pulled Buffy into her house which was thankfully deserted. She hovered in the entryway as he rummaged through the home, searching for a weapon, something to stave off the creatures that were currently banging on the front door. Grinning when he found a small axe in her weapon’s chest, he tripped down the stairs and thrust the weapon at her, offering it to her.

“What are you doing?” she asked, flipping her hair over her shoulder and looking at him in distaste.

“Take it,” he told her. “Sooner or later you’re going to have to fight.”

“Fight these lowly creatures?” she groaned in disgust. “I’d sooner die,” she informed him haughtily, her arms crossed over her chest.

“Then you’ll die,” he said frankly, not bothering with her any longer, keeping the axe in his own hands. She frowned and went to apologize, but she was cut off when they heard the back door in the kitchen open and close and footsteps head toward them. Buffy clamored to Xander’s side, holding onto him tightly as another man approached.

“Oh good, you’re all right,” said Angel, relief evident in his voice as he saw Buffy alive and well. “It’s total chaos out there.” He had been roaming the town, brooding and thinking when he felt the change sweep Sunnydale. Then he heard the growls, the fighting, and lastly, he saw children, or what used to be children, turned into the demons he fought everyday. He had run to Buffy’s house, needing to know she was okay, which thankfully she was.

“Who are you?” whimpered Buffy as she moved closer to Xander.

“Buffy…” Angel started, taking a step toward her and stopping when she cringed. “Okay, I’m lost here. You…what’s up with your hair?” he wondered absently, finally noticing her now brown locks.

“She doesn’t know who she is, everyone’s turned into monsters. It’s a thing,” explained Xander as best he could, loathing that he was being polite to Angel, of all people, or should he say demons. “Take her,” he said, pushing Buffy toward Angel as she glared at him. “Check the kitchen, I’m going to check on the living room.” With that, Xander turned away, leaving a slightly disgruntled Buffy with a very confused Angel.

She looked like she was about to argue about being placed with him, but Angel wasn’t in the mood to hear it. Grabbing her elbow, he pulled her along. “C’mon.”

They stepped into the darkened kitchen, Angel stopping abruptly when he spotted the open back door. “I didn’t leave that open,” he muttered, abandoning her side to search the rest of the room. Buffy waited nervously near the door to the basement, wringing her hands. The door behind her opened with a soft creak and Buffy spun on her heel, running to slam the door on the vampire lunging at her with a yelp. Angel was at her side in less than a second, tackling the former student to the floor and pinning him down as best he could.

Xander was almost finished surveying the living and family rooms when he heard the commotion and he turned to the kitchen quickly, his balance wavering slightly before he righted himself and took off.

“A stake!” shouted Angel, slamming the vamp down against the floor as he continued to struggle.

“A what?” she asked, tears making their way down her face as her body shook slightly.

“Get me a stake!” he growled, causing her to jump. She looked around the kitchen but could not find what he was asking for. Grabbing a butcher knife that lay on the counter, she approached him tentatively just as Xander appeared in the doorway.

“Angel!” he shouted, trying to get the souled vampire’s attention and failing. “Whatever you do, just don’t--”

Angel didn’t even notice Xander standing only feet away from him, too preoccupied with his captive. “Hurry up!” he snarled as his head snapped up to glare at Buffy. She screamed shrilly, a scream of pure terror, when she caught sight of his mangled features and promptly turned and ran out the back door before either man could stop her.

“—show her your game face,” Xander finished with a grunt.

“Buffy, no!” yelled Angel, forgetting the man under him as he pulled himself up, glancing at Xander worriedly and then to the door. They came to a silent agreement, both walking quickly and with purpose out the door and to the hectic street filled with monsters.

“Are you sure she came this way?” Xander asked stiffly, frustration lacing his voice.

“No,” Angel replied simply, his eyes never straying from their path. They had been walking for a couple minutes, having no clue whether or not they were even close to finding her.

“She’ll be okay,” he tried grudgingly to reassure the vampire, knowing he was truly worried.

“*Buffy* would be okay. Whoever she is now, she’s helpless,” he told him with a glare. “C’mon.” Xander picked up the pace and they continued on.

~~~*~~~

A toothy grin crossed the blonde vampire’s face as he listened to the conversation that his sire was having with the boy he remembered from that club a few days ago.

“Did you hear that my friends?” he chuckled as he glanced at the assorted tiny demons that surrounded him, basking in the power he radiated. They growled and snarled in response and he grinned. Looking back to the street where Angel and Xander were walking he smirked.

“Somewhere out there is the *tenderest* meat you’ve *ever* tasted,” he told them, licking his lips in anticipation. “And all we have to do is find her first…”

~~~*~~~

Buffy stumbled into an alley, crying and disoriented. Wiping at the endless stream of tears she whimpered and continued on, coming face to face with a student-turned-pirate who was leering at her with a dark grin, teeth completely rotted.

“Pretty, pretty,” he purred, taking a step forward as she gasped and turned, running away from his intimidating form with a choked sob.

~~~*~~~

“Hello…” Giles called as he and Willow stepped into the dark shop. Seeing light coming from the backroom, she placed a hand on his arm and pointed to the door. They both crept quietly into the backroom, freezing when they saw the statue seated on a table in the center of the room, the eyes glowing an eerie green.

“Janus. Roman mythical god,” the watcher breathed, rubbing a hand over his face.

“What does this mean?” she asked, for the life of her she couldn’t remember exactly what Janus was the god of. And they called her research girl.

“Primarily the division of self. Male and Female, light and dark…”

“Chunky and creamy,” added an amused voice as a thinner man stepped out from the darkness. “Oh no, sorry, that’s peanut butter.” Giles stared at the newcomer, feeling both amazed and absolutely furious at the sight of his old friend.

“Willow, get out of here now,” he ordered in a low, authoritative tone. She knew better than to argue, besides, if she remembered correctly, Buffy would need her help right about now. She left quickly, her fast paced walk turning into a hurried jog as she tried to remember which alley Buffy was in.

“Hello Ethan,” said Giles, no happiness found in his voice.

“Hello Ripper,” he greeted with a devilish grin.

~~~*~~~

Buffy wasn’t fast enough to evade her pursuer. Her gown hindered her movement and she yelped when she felt a hand close around her arm. But then it was gone. She turned to see what had happened, relief flooding her when she saw Xander punch the pirate, but the man hadn’t given up just yet.

Angel appeared, ignoring Xander’s predicament and focusing completely on Buffy. “Are you okay?” he asked softly. She cringed and cowered behind a crate, causing his worried frown to deepen.

“Y-You’re a v-vampire,” she stuttered, lip trembling. Xander managed to get the upper hand once more and was able to knock the pirate out cold. With heaving breaths, he looked to Buffy and Angel, swallowing the bitter taste that invaded his mouth at the thought of the words he was about to speak, he opened his mouth.

“Angel’s a good vampire,” he told Buffy, in soft, reassuring tones. Angel glanced at him suddenly, surprise etched on his face. Xander was defending him? “He would never hurt you.” Now he knew that was a lie. Angelus would hurt her and revel in the pain he caused. Angel wasn’t much better himself. He would leave her, not even saying goodbye, just walk away. Angel would hurt her, but she couldn’t know that, especially not now. He needed her to trust the vampire.

“Really?” she asked hesitantly, slowly standing.

“Absolutely,” he said with a nod, glad when she smiled tentatively. Angel too seemed greatly relieved. They looked up at the sound of shuffling, footsteps, coming their way. There were many, Angel wasn’t sure how many, and he glanced at Xander anxiously. They heard a growl and Angel spotted a bleached blonde head coming in their direction, spurring him into action.

Sweeping Buffy into his arms, Angel took off in the opposite direction, Xander a couple feet behind them as they ran to the shelter of a closed down factory. Sliding the door shut behind him, Xander moved to place a few crates and whatever else he could find to block the entrance. It wouldn’t hold, he knew as much, but if it delayed Spike even just a bit it was worth it.

“Go!” he shouted to Angel as he held the door, the pounding of fists on the other side making it harder and harder for him to hold it. Angel put Buffy down and ran through the crates inside the factory.

Xander felt the door give and panicked. The crates broke as the demons forced their way through, eventually losing his grip on what was left and stumbling backwards just in time to see them all pour into the factory, Spike was the last one to walk in. His arms were pinned to his sides by three demons who had captured him the moment they walked through the door and Spike didn’t even spare him a glance as he strode past the struggling boy and to the back., his minions ahead of him.

He heard Angel fighting as best he could as he tried to protect Buffy and knew he was failing. They dragged him to the back where they held Angel as well. They fought against their captors but knew it was pointless. If Angel couldn’t escape his captor’s hold with vampiric strength, what chance did he have?

As Spike sauntered toward a cowering and shaking Buffy, Xander couldn’t help but wonder where the hell was Willow?

~Part: 16~

“What?” asked Ethan with a pout as he looked at Giles, a playful grin crossing his face. “No hug? Aren’t you pleased to see your old mate, Ripper?”

“So it is you,” he muttered contemptuously, sneering at his old friend. “This stunt stinks of Ethan Rayne.”

“Yes it does, doesn’t it?” he chuckled. “Don’t wish to blow my own trumpet,” he continued as he stepped closer to the watcher. “But it’s genius. The very embodiment of ‘be careful what you wish for’.”

“It’s sick, and brutal, and it harms the innocent,” growled Giles.

“Oh,” he retorted with a raised eyebrow, “and we both know you’re the champion of all things good and pure, Rupert. It’s quite a little act you’ve got going here, old man.”

“It’s no act,” he denied fervently. “It’s who I am.”

“Who you are?” Ethan mocked, “The watcher, the sniveling, tweed-clad guardian of the slayer and her kin? I think not.” He took a step closer to fuming Englishman. “I know who you are, Rupert, and I know what you’re capable of.” He took a moment to himself, cocking his head to the side in thought before grinning widely. “But they don’t, do they? They have no idea where you come from.”

“Break the spell, Ethan,” he demanded softly, but his voice not lacking in firmness. “Then leave this place and never come back.”

“Why should I?” he scoffed. He was having a right bit of fun that night and wasn’t willing to just give it up because the watcher told him to. “What’s in the bargain for me?”

Giles looked him up and down, no expression on his usually kind and gentle face. “You get to live.”

He laughed. He couldn’t help it really. “Oh, Rupert,” Ethan drawled, the amused smirk evident on his face. “You’re scaring me,” he taunted in between chuckles. Chuckles that immediately stopped the moment he had the wind knocked out of him by Ripper’s fists. Now *that* was the man he knew from his younger days, he thought with a slight grimace at the pain.

“Good to have you back, Ripper,” he coughed with a pained smile, which was abruptly wiped off his face by a left hook.

~~~*~~~

Spike couldn’t conceal the gleeful grin that crossed his face as he backed the slayer up against a pile of stacked crates. Angel and Xander were currently cursing up a storm, struggling and the like, but none of it entered his mind. He was solely focused on the girl before him, crying and terrified. It was such a rush.

Buffy hiccupped as her legs hit crates that blocked her path. She didn’t know who this…thing was, but she was quite sure he wasn’t as friendly as Angel was. Ridges distorted his face and yellowed eyes gleamed in the darkness as he cornered her, making sure she was going nowhere.

“Look at you…” he purred, his tongue sweeping across his bottom lip in anticipation. “Shaking. Terrified. Alone. Lost little lamb…” His knees were pressed against hers through the layers of her gown and his jeans as he leaned in closer. “I love it!” he declared with a laugh.

Wrapping a massive, strong hand around her neck, nails digging into her flesh, leaving little half-moons along her throat, he pushed her back. Buffy felt her back hit the top of the crates and she sobbed even harder. His other hand brushed her forehead, pushing her matted hair away before gripping it harshly and turning her head to the side.

“Buffy!” screamed Angel, desperate and frightened for her, but he was still stuck, about to watch her death.

Spike smiled, a sight which frightened her more than anything, and leaned in closer for the kill.

~~~*~~~

Ethan was sprawled out on the floor of his back office in his store,  absently holding wrapping an arm over his chest to cradle his aching ribs. He laughed weakly and looked up at the man above him who stood there, polishing his glasses like nothing had happened. He felt the blood dribbling down his chin and wiped at it, grimacing at the sight.

“And you said the Ripper was long gone,” he teased, earning him a swift kick to the stomach.

“Tell me how to stop the spell,” Giles demanded in a neutral tone.

“Say pretty please,” he remarked with a snort. He was kicked harshly in the kidneys and he shouted out his pain, groaning and rolling on the floor. He was beginning to wonder if this was really worth all the pain.

“Now, tell me how to stop the spell,” Giles said reasonably, putting his glasses back on.

“Janus,” Ethan wheezed. “Break the statue…”

Giles wasted no time in crossing the small distance between him and the table and lifted the statue above his head, throwing it to the floor with a mighty crash. And the green light disappeared from its enchanting eyes.

~~~*~~~

Spike growled and licked his lips as he leaned in closer, already almost able to taste the powerful blood that pulsed beneath her skin. Just as he was about to finally take a bite, his hand left the slayer’s throat, one still wrapped in her hair, as he caught the pipe that was coming full speed at his head.

Tilting his head to the side, the bleach blonde regarded his assailant with a calculating eye, his smile lacking any amusement. It had occurred to him as he went in for the kill, that the room had become unusually quiet. There was no protesting coming from Angel or Xander, no sounds of their previous struggle. Only the murmurs coming from his help filled the room. Well, that and the ‘whoosh’ that accompanies the swinging of a lead pipe aimed at one’s head.

Still holding onto the offending weapon was a tiny but powerful, and mightily pissed off, redhead. He grinned around his fangs. Just the girl he was going to look for after he offed the slayer. This was definitely turning into a productive evening.

“Now, that wasn’t nice,” he drawled with a smirk at her glare as she tightened her grip on the pipe. “You hurt my feelings, pet. Somebody might think you want to hurt me.”

“They would be right,” she said as she tugged on the lead pipe they both still held. He took the time to look her up and down, leering blatantly.

“Gotta say Red, I love your costume. What are you supposed to be exactly?” he chuckled as he waggled his eyebrows. She refused to dignify that with an answer, instead pulling harshly at her weapon. Her strength was no match for his and he pulled it from her grasp, throwing it across the room, barely missing a few minions as it hit the wall and clattered to the ground.

“You thought you could stop me?” he commented with a smug grin. “Not gonna happen, pet. Your slayer’s as good as dead. And then, you and me, love, we’re gonna have words,” he informed her, his face darkening.

Willow hesitated a moment before replying, yet another shiver making its way up her spine. There was even more magic in the air. “I don’t think so,” she told him with a suddenly confident grin. He paid no attention to the background noise in the factory. But if he had, he would have noticed that the growls and snarls coming from his companions had faded into whimpers and cries for their parents. He would have noticed that Xander and Angel were no longer restrained.

“And why is that?” he countered with a sharp growl.

“Because she might have something to say about that,” Willow said, pointing to the slayer. Spike abruptly turned back to the girl, frowning when he pulled on her hair and his hand pulled away a wig. Looking down, his eyes widened as Buffy, blonde hair and all, sprung up, punching him squarely in the nose.

“Hi honey, I’m home,” the slayer grinned, not wasting any time in hitting the surprised vampire once more as Xander and Angel struggled to calm to scared children.

“You know what?” Buffy said as she continued to pummel Spike relentlessly, hitting him so hard that he flew back into a crate, sliding off it to the floor in a heap. “It’s good to be me.”

Regaining his balance as best he could, Spike could only glare at them all one last time before running off, knowing this was a fight he had no chance of winning. He really hated Halloween.

Angel ran to Buffy’s side and she smiled reassuringly at his worried expression. “Welcome back,” he smiled, caressing her cheek. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” she sighed tiredly. He said nothing more, just wrapped his arm around her shoulders and led her out of the factory.

Xander glanced at Willow, who looked exhausted, and then at the kids still lingering nervously in the warehouse. “I’ll take them back to school,” he said to the redhead softly. Willow looked surprised, but he figured it was the least he could do. “I’ll meet you at home.”

“Yeah,” she agreed with a nod. “We still have to talk,” she reminded him soberly.

“Tomorrow,” he decided with a tiny smile. “It can wait until tomorrow. We deserve a night’s rest.” The witch smiled gratefully and he rounded up the children. He began to lead the small group out the door, looking over his shoulder one last time to his best friend. “You did good tonight Wills.”

“You too,” she said softly, relieved that he wasn’t angry with her anymore. “Now go,” she shooed him. He laughed and escorted all the kids out the door and down the alley toward the high school.

Willow took a moment to rest on one of the many boxes that littered the ground, taking deep, calming breaths to relax her. To say that tonight had been stressful would be an understatement. But it was over and she was ready to soak in a nice, hot bath and then climb into bed and fall into the sweet oblivion of sleep. She closed her eyes, groaning as she stood, and running a hand over her face. “Sleep sounds so good right about now,” she mumbled as she walked forward blindly.

“Gonna have to wait,” announced a deep, husky British voice. She looked up sharply, eyes widening as she saw Spike leaning in the doorway. He didn’t look amused or smug, like he usually did. Instead, he just looked decidedly dangerous and when he spoke again, she felt a chill come over her. “We’re not done here.”

~Part: 17~

Giles looked around the storeroom, frowning as he failed to spot any sign of Ethan Rayne. He glanced one last time at the shattered remains of Janus and then to the curtained doorway that separated this room from the rest of the shop. Wiping the sweat of his brow he stepped through the curtains, somewhat unsurprised to see no sign of Ethan.

He stepped into the sales area, pushing his way past the many costumes, masks, and props that cluttered the halls. He paused as he headed to the exit, looking out the windows in front of the store to the now quiet streets, and then back toward the counter. That’s when he spotted it.

Sitting on the counter next to the cash register was a piece of paper, propped up gently. Retracing his steps, Giles retrieved the note, seeing the familiar scrawl across it. There were only three words written on it, but they caused him more worry than he would like to admit. This was Ethan’s parting message, after all. It was simple and to the point, just…‘Be seeing you’. Crumpling it up in his hand, he angrily tossed the offending paper away from him and marched out of the store. He just wanted to go home and forget tonight.

~~~*~~~

Angel was lounging comfortably on Buffy’s bed, waiting patiently for the blonde to appear. Her mother was still at work, which he was grateful for, and Buffy had been desperate to go home and change into some normal clothes. He was resting on his back, his weight resting on his elbows as he stared at her door, waiting for her to come back.

Hearing the water of her bathroom sink turn off, he sat up and smiled as she walked through the door wearing a comfy tank top and sweats.

“Tada,” she grinned, “Just little old 20th century me.”

“You sure you’re okay?” he asked softly. She merely shrugged and sat next to him.

“I’ll live.”

“I don’t get it Buffy,” he sighed, sitting up a little straighter. “Why did you think I’d like you better dressed this way?”

“I just wanted to be a real girl for once,” she murmured, looking down self-consciously. “The kind of fancy girl you liked when you were my age.” She failed to see his eyes widen and his mouth quirk into a tiny, amused smile.

“Oh,” he replied, causing her to look up at him in confusion.

“What?” she questioned, her brow furrowed.

“I hated the girls back then,” he explained with a grin. “Especially the noble women.” He turned on to face her. “They were just incredibly dull. Simpering morons, the lot of them,” he added with a frown of remembrance. “I always wished I could meet someone…exciting,” he told her, taking her face in his hands, “interesting.”

“Interesting? Really?” she smiled shyly, batting her eyelashes.

Angel grinned, “Definitely,” he assured her, pressing his lips to hers, his kiss almost a caress. Buffy relaxed at the feel of him, the events of that night tiring her out. She was just happy to spend whatever time she could in the comfort of Angel’s arms.

~~~*~~~

Xander sighed happily as he walked out of Sunnydale High, the silence surrounding him music to his ears. He understood that those children were scared and upset, but the crying, screaming, and general whining had begun to grate on his nerves.

Stuffing his hands into his pants pockets, he ambled down the now deserted sidewalks. Tonight he had no worries about running into a vampire or some other nasty out to kill him. Halloween was quiet, well, it was supposed to be, and now that the drama was over it was quiet again.

Something about tonight bothered him. He had been through this all before, nothing that happened, with the exception of Willow’s well-timed appearance, had really changed. Thus far, he had generally been able to go through life without caring about the people around him. Willow could take care of herself, as could Buffy, and he just didn’t give a damn what happened to Angel. But tonight, seeing Buffy pinned to the crate, Spike looming over her with every intention of draining her, he felt something he hadn’t in almost a year. He felt scared.

He wasn’t supposed to care about Buffy’s well-being. When they came back, he had every intention of never seeing her at all. But fate had screwed with him yet again and he was unwillingly thrust back into that same life he tried to avoid. Willow had managed to accept it all in stride, understanding that some things apparently couldn’t be changed and advised him to do the same. But he couldn’t, he railed against the idea with every ounce of will he possessed, and in turn pushed her further and further away from him.

Willow didn’t confide in him as much anymore. At first it didn’t bother him; he was too wrapped up in his own pain to care. But as time went on and he slowly began to adjust to life back in Sunnydale, he longed for their late night talks, missed when she would share with him all her secrets. He knew it was his own fault, at least partly, but that didn’t make things easier. And she had something on her mind, something that worried her, and yet she didn’t say a word. He hoped she would tell him soon, it wasn’t good to keep things all bottled up. He knew that well.

Looking up, Xander squinted when his eyes fell on the porch light of the Rosenberg house. He climbed the three steps up to the wooden porch and found his keys, fishing them out of his pocket and unlocking the door. He was only mildly surprised to note that the downstairs was completely enshrouded in darkness. He thought that Willow might still be up, maybe watching TV, doing something to unwind from the stress of the evening. And yet, the first floor was vacant. With an inward shrug he pulled himself up the stairs and dragged himself to the guest room, falling on the queen size bed with a groan. He just wanted to sleep, and at that moment he was envious of Willow. After all, she must be sleeping soundly in her own bed by now.

“We’re not done here.” His gravely tone caused the exhausted redhead to cringe as she remained rooted to her spot.

Spike pushed himself off the doorframe, taking slow, deliberate steps into the now abandoned factory, his boots thudding with a resounding echo on the cement floor. He watched her carefully, his eyes in narrow slits. Her body was tense, muscles coiled and taut, her jaw clenched in a nervous gesture. For all the world, she looked strong and confident, if a little tired. But her ever expressive eyes betrayed her, and he couldn’t hold back the devilish grin that snaked its way onto his face. She was anxious, afraid. She did her best to keep her eyes level with his as he stalked toward her, but inevitably she lost their little contest of wills and she looked away. Little Red tried her best to show him she was unafraid, but he knew better, and he loved it.

“I’ve been having a bad night,” he commented off-handedly, bringing her gaze back to him as he stopped, only a few feet away. “A bad week actually, but who’s keeping track?”

Willow studied him under hooded eyes, trying to keep her heart beating in a dull rhythm so as not to betray her frazzled nerves. She was failing, she knew. She could tell by the look on his face, he knew he was getting to her.

“Do we really have to do this tonight?” she asked, biting her lip. The redhead was trying her best to regain her confidence. She was a powerful witch; she shouldn’t be frightened by some vampire. But this wasn’t some vampire. This was Spike, and not the laughing, teasing Spike she had encountered as of late. He was serious, angry, and even she knew it would be foolish to trifle with him when he was like this. It would be suicide.

“Yeah,” he told her gruffly. “We do.” He took a minute to look her over before shoving his hands into his duster pockets and tilting his head to the side, his lips thinning as he regarded her.

“I came to this bloody town for one purpose,” he started; his voice low and she didn’t dare interrupt him. “The hellmouth was supposed to restore Dru, make her like she was before that mess in Prague. Plus there was the bonus of killing another slayer, that’s always fun.” He took a step forward, his face darkening.

“But nothing’s worked out like I planned,” he continued. “Dru’s still weak, that blonde bint is still breathing, and I have the distinct feeling that I’m being played for a fool,” the last of the sentence was less a word and more of a growl. Willow flinched. “And you…everywhere I turn, there you are. Dusting my minions, ruining my plans, trying to hit me with a pipe,” he added with a furious glare.

“Um, sorry?” she mumbled but the snarl that escaped him shut her up. He glared at her before shaking his head, disgruntled.

“I can’t get you out of my sodding head! I see you and I think that I’ve met you before,” he told her, looming over the tiny redhead. “You tell me your name and it was already on the tip of my tongue. And then Dru tells me that things have changed, my *life* has changed, been toyed with, and I’m willing to bet that you, witch, are behind it!”

Her mouth had gone dry at this point and her eyes darted around the room, never settling on him. “I haven’t done anything to you.” She was a horrible liar, but she thought that came out sincere. And it was partially true. She hadn’t done anything to *him* personally. Sure, she had cast a spell and in avertedly changed his past, but she hadn’t meant to. Good intentions counted for something, right?

He searched her eyes, looking for any sign of deception and surprisingly enough found none. With a heavy sigh, he sat with a thud on a nearby crate, the wood creaking from his weight. He grabbed her arm and pulled her down beside him, resting his head in one of his hands.

“I hate this bloody town,” he muttered, rubbing his temples as he felt the beginning of a headache coming on.

Willow sat to his left, glancing at him from underneath her eyelashes. He looked tired, she had to admit. It had been a rather hard evening for them all it seemed. On impulse she reached out, absently patting him on the knee, whispering a shallow, “there, there.”

Spike had been drawn into his thoughts, wondering if he was imagining all those things that had been driving him crazy the past few weeks. But Dru swore that things had been changed, the world had been changed, and her visions weren’t wrong. He heard the girl next to him shift and felt her light touch on his knee, the warmth from her hand heating him for a moment. He heard her muffled words of feigned comfort and froze, his body stilling unnaturally.

A sudden feeling of vertigo came over him, a dizziness he couldn’t shake. He closed his eyes shut tightly, hands to his head as something, something that felt distinctly like a memory, washed over him, filling his senses.

~~~*~~~

~He was in a factory, the smell of ash and charcoal pervading his senses. He was seated on a bed, the linens crumpled and singed. Feeling a presence beside him, he turned his head to the left, eyes blurry. That redhead was next to him, her hair a bit shorter, wearing some fuzzy pink number. She was looking down at the floor, tears scenting the air. Her fear was a palpable thing, making his demon fight for control.

Spike heard himself sniffle and choke a sob back. God, he looked broken.

“It was that truce with Buffy that did it,” he muttered to the shaken redhead. “Dru said I’d gone soft. Wasn’t demon enough for the likes of her. And I said it didn’t mean anything,” he hastened to explain. “I was thinking of her the whole time, but she didn’t care. So, we got to Brazil, and she was…she was just…different. I gave her everything: beautiful jewels, beautiful dresses, with beautiful girls in them. But nothing made her happy,” he murmured pitifully. “And she would *flirt*!” he chuckled humorlessly. “I caught her on a park bench making out with a *chaos* demon. Have you ever seen a chaos demon? They’re all slime and antlers, they’re disgusting,” he sneered.

He reached out a hand, petting her hair gently, smiling at the softness.

“She only did it to hurt me,” he mumbled, reluctantly removing his hand. “So I said, ‘I’m not putting up with this anymore!’ And she said ‘Fine’. And I said, ‘Yeah, I’ve got an unlife, too, you know’. And then she said…she said we could still be friends.” After his depressing admission he burst into fresh tears, leaning his head on her shoulder, breathing in her calming scent. “God, I’m so unhappy.”

Willow looked at the top of his head nervously. Having a vampire that close to your neck has a tendency to make one a little on edge. She extended one hand, gently, hesitantly, patting his knee. “There, there…” she said shakily. ~

~~~*~~~

Spike’s eyes shot open, blue bleeding into yellow as he jerked his head sharply to the left. Willow was staring at him with wide eyes.

“Are-e you okay?” she asked with a hitch in her voice. He had spaced out for a minute and she was tempted to make a run for it, but he woke from his stupor before she had a chance to move.

He didn’t answer her, instead he continued studying her, but what he was looking for she was unsure. It was unnerving to say the least. He didn’t know what to make of her, now especially, so he merely continued looking at her, observing with a critical eye.

“Why did you think I was in love with Drusilla?” he finally spoke, his question seemingly coming out of the blue.

“W-Well, I mean,” she stammered, looking away from him. “You showed up here, with her, I just a-assumed you were together. It’s bad to assume, I know. You know what they say, when you assume you make an ass out of you and me…clever, huh?” she rambled, her hands flitting about.

“Did you know…” he commented in a low rumble, extending his hand to run through her hair gently, “that when you lie, you get this nervous twitch at the corner of your mouth,” his other hand reached toward her face, his finger grazing past her lips. “Right…about…there…” She flinched at his touch, eyes darting to his face, expecting to see amusement or teasing on his features and was dismayed when she only saw traces of confusion, frustration, and anger. Willow tried to shy away from his hand that still petted her hair, but he kept her in her place.

“Bring back memories for you, love?” he murmured, eyes blazing. “You? Me? A factory?” He narrowed his eyes as her heartbeat picked up and he growled low in his throat. “You’re a horrible liar, Red. Your poker face ain’t bad, but your body betrays you. *You* know what I’m talking about, and whether you like or not, pet, you’re gonna share. I *don’t* enjoy feeling like I’m someone’s bloody puppet.” She tried to stand, to evade his grasp, but he was too quick.

Wrapping her hair harshly in his fist he stood, jerking her closer to him as she yelped. By now he was so agitated that he was in game face, teeth glinting in the soft light as he glared down at her. “What the hell is going on?!”

Panicking slightly, Willow pushed at his chest, her palms flat as she felt the magic flow through her and closed her eyes for a second. When she opened them, her eyes were completely black.

“Let. Go,” she ordered, her voice more of a purr than a bark as she pressed her hands harder against him. His golden eyes widened in surprise as he felt a wave of magic pass over him right before he was thrown across the expanse of the factory, hitting the farthest wall with a sickening crack.

Willow appeared to be almost as in shock as he was, but shook it off quickly. With a coughing breath, she turned on her heel and ran; her breathing labored. Spike watched her run, his vision bleary. He blinked a few times, shaking his head and groaning and snarling to himself as he pulled his body off the ground. She got away. With a furious roar, he grabbed the nearest object, a heavy crate, and lifted it over his head without effort, flinging it across the room and listening with a tiny amount of satisfaction as it splintered and broke. It made him feel a little bit better. But it didn’t change a thing, she still got away.

“Damn it!”

~Part: 18~

Willow made it to her house faster than she ever thought she could. Slamming the front door behind her, she cringed when she remembered that Xander was sleeping upstairs. She paused at the foot of the stairs, listening for any sounds that would signal that she had woken her friend. There were none. For the second time that night she heaved a thankful sigh and trudged up the stairs.

Changing into her pajamas, a simple pair of loose cotton pants in blue and a white tank, she looked to her balcony doors and beyond. Nights like this, when her mind was going a mile a minute, she loved to sit out on her balcony under the stars and let her mind wander. She was tempted to do that now, but hesitated when she reached for the doorknob. The night wasn’t safe; especially when one has an extremely willful and stubborn demon on your heels. So the balcony was a no go.

Looking to her desk, she settled for pulling out her computer chair and dragging it to the French doors so she could still look out at the moon. Sitting down and pulling her knees up to her chest, she rested her chin on her knees and took in her surroundings. Her eyes fell on the moon above, a glowing crescent in the sky. This was around the time she met Oz. But it hadn’t happened yet, she was starting to wonder if that was a good thing. Maybe it would be best not to see Oz, to spare herself the inevitable heartbreak. But they say, ‘It is better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all.’ But maybe that was a crock. Who got to decide what’s better? She remembered the pain of their break up to this day and seriously questioned if it had been worth it. She had spent months moping and crying, barely existing, she was just…there. They say the definition of stupidity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results. Whoever ‘they’ were, they were certainly a confused bunch.

As if finding a way to deal with Oz wasn’t stressing enough, her confrontation with Spike had left her shaken. Every other time they had encountered each other before, they would verbally spar, tease and taunt, but nothing serious ever came of it. Sure, there was the occasional disturbing revelation, like Angelus being Spike’s sire, the blonde not being in love with Drusilla, and the fact that he seemed to know her name for some unknown reason. But tonight was the first time she had seen him legitimately angry. She supposed she could sympathize. It would drive her crazy to feel like her life had been toyed with so casually, to feel like she had no control over what was happening in her own life. She wanted nothing more than to put him at ease, to assure him that she meant no harm and that he wasn’t being played.

Trouble was she wasn’t sure if that was the truth. For all she knew, all of them were pawns, mere playthings in the game of life, tools of amusement for the Powers that Be. She never thought them to be cruel, but from what she heard from Angel and his gang, they were big on rules. Maybe her spell had ruffled a few feathers up there; maybe this was punishment for playing God. Then again, maybe this was a reward. Things had been so hard before, and while they had managed to defeat the First, they lost Anya, they lost Spike. And Spike had been a warrior for the Powers, they all were. They were needed, the world depended on them. Maybe whatever changes were made were for the best.

Then again, there was another completely different scenario, one that made her shiver in fear. There was only one other ‘being’ that had the power to pull off life changing events like this. The First. It had more power than they ever gave it credit for. After all, it managed to bring Angel back from Hell, cause dementia and hallucinations, use mind control, and Willow was willing to bet those were mere parlor tricks. If the First was behind this, the world might be doomed and she wasn’t sure if there was a damn thing she could do about it. But surely the Powers wouldn’t let that happen. They saved Angel when the First had driven him to suicide; they wouldn’t just abandon them all because she screwed up.

“Wills?” muttered a sift voice from her doorway. The redhead turned in her chair, smiling tiredly at Xander who rubbed his eyes and walked through the door, plopping down on her bed.

“What are you doing up, sleepyhead?” she murmured.

“You woke me up,” he explained, his voice slightly muffled. “You’re thinking too loud.” Her reluctant giggle calmed him and he sat up a bit to rest on his elbows.

“Sorry,” she whispered, eyes falling to her feet.

“Not a problem, I’m used to it,” he assured her with a tiny grin. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

“It’s all tangled in there, Xan,” she said, tapping the side of her head with her index finger. “Not much is making sense.”

“Talk to me,” he pleaded gently, “You know no one can understand your rambling better than me. So try me.” She remained silent and he took the time to look her over. She looked haggard, exhausted and troubled. “Something’s going on with you, Wills. You’ve been keeping it to yourself, but you don’t have to. I’m here for you. I know, I’ve been distant and a pain in the ass these past few weeks, but I’m doing better now. I promise. But you’ve been hiding something from me and I need to know what it is.”

“Things here are all wrong,” Willow told him, green eyes looking at him under fluttering eyelashes. “You already know about how Spike’s past is all different, but…I wish that were all that was happening. Something’s going on with him, and I don’t know what is causing it.”

“How do you know all this?” he asked, trying to keep his voice neutral. Truthfully, he had a grudging respect for Spike, more than he would ever have for Angel, but that didn’t change the fact that this wasn’t the Spike who saved the world. This one lived to destroy it.

“We’ve literally run into each other a few times,” she said with a dismayed shake of her head. “But ever since we first saw him at the Bronze, I knew there was something up with him. Didn’t you see it? When he looked at me? At us? There was this flash, call it recognition or whatever, but it was there. Ever since, I’ve spoken with him a few times. Our conversations were never anything to write home about. Just usually a lot of taunting and showing off on both our parts. But he knew…he knew my name Xan. I know that may not sound like much, but it even shocked him. He’s suspicious. Hell, he’s a lot more than suspicious; he knows there’s something going on. And he wants answers. But I can’t give him any, it will only cause trouble, right?” she finished, glancing at him with begging eyes, pleading with him to agree with her.

“What do you mean he knows? How could he know?”

“Dru’s a seer, Xander. He mentioned something about her…that she said his life had been changed, toyed with. He’s pissed, Xan. I mean *really* pissed.” She took one last look out her window and then disentangled herself from her chair, deciding she wanted to pace the floor. “But that’s not it. We were talking and it was like he completely zoned out, like he was there but not, and when he came to he was angry. I don’t know what happened, but he mentioned something about the factory. About me and him in a factory together, he remembered. It was like he remembered that night he kidnapped us, but that’s not possible. I mean, there’s no way he could know. Right?” her voice had a hysterical pitch to it now and Xander reached out, pulling her to sit on the bed and into his arms.

“Shhh,” he murmured, encouraging her to rest her head on his shoulder as he rocked her gently back and forth. He felt her slowly begin to relax and he closed his eyes.

“This is all my fault,” he mumbled, looking down at the frightened woman he was holding and feeling horrible for putting her through this. “I was selfish and stupid. We used to tell you that magic could never solve your problems,” he chuckled humorlessly. “Then what do I do? The second the world officially becomes unbearable, I have you do a spell for me. I’m such a damn hypocrite.”

“Don’t say that, Xan,” she told him, sniffling a bit and pulling away from him.

“It’s true.” He didn’t argue his point any further. That was all he had to say. Because of him, they were living in an even more screwed up version of Sunnydale, without even the secure friendships from before. Sure, Buffy was their friend, but there was still distance between them all. He and Buffy hadn’t grown close, Angel treated Willow like she was a threat, and Giles was brisk with both of them. It wasn’t the same. Even though that was what he had wanted, a change, he wasn’t happy. Because, damn it, he missed the way it used to be.

“Do you think Spike’s going to become a problem?” he asked softly.

“No, he’s not going to become a problem,” she replied sadly. “He already is one. He’s determined to find out what’s going on, and you know how persistent he is. And can you blame him? We messed with his life, Xan. It wasn’t on purpose, but we changed his past, and possibly his future. He saved the world, Xander. Who’s to say he will this time?”

Willow looked down at her now clasped hands, her breath coming in slow, even sighs. “What if we ruined everything?” she whispered, her voice catching.

“We didn’t Will,” he assured her, his words hollow and uncertain. “We couldn’t have.” His fingers moved to rub his temples to ease the headache that was coming on. “So how do we keep Spike from finding out the truth?”

“I don’t know,” she shrugged. “Maybe we should just bite the bullet and tell him. He has a right to know what happened to him.”

“That’s crazy!” he exclaimed, “He’s not going to just sit there and let you explain, rationally and logically. He’s not the Spike we’ve known for the past two or three years. He’ll keep you alive long enough for you to tell him what he wants to know, and then he’ll kill you, for revenge, for fun, who knows? That’s how he works, you know this. Don’t be naïve.”

“You didn’t see him tonight, Xan,” she reminded him, glancing his way. “Yes, he was angry, we’re talking furious, but more than anything, he was scared. The one thing Spike hates is losing control. He thinks he isn’t even in control of his own life anymore. I’m not saying we should tell him everything. But he deserves to know what we did. Apparently, we aren’t the only ones paying for our mistakes.”

The brunette opened his mouth to argue, but he shut it immediately. He wanted to scream some sense into her, but in all honesty, he knew she was right. Spike deserved nothing less than the truth, they did screw with his life, after all. He only hoped they wouldn’t die for it.

~Part: 19~ Lie to Me

The next few days were tense but thankfully uneventful. Willow was reluctantly relieved that she had not had any further run-ins with Spike. But that was a reprieve that would soon be over and she tried her best to think of how to break the news to him. How do you tell a murderous vampire that you are from the future, where said vampire had a soul and saved the world all for the love of a slayer, and performed a spell that reversed time and unwittingly changed his past? It's not your everyday occurrence.

She and Xander forwent patrol again that Monday night, instead deciding to stay in. They had been doing that, spending the evenings at Willow's just talking. They needed that, time to get to know each other again. Between the apocalypse, a life-altering spell, depression, and fear, the two best friends had grown distant. But Xander finally seemed to become like his old self once more and they used nights like this like therapy. They exercised their demons, figurative only, and began to grow closer. Just like old times.

As it was, while they became reacquainted with each other, yet another twosome was reunited.

~~~*~~~

"C'mon mom." mumbled the young boy, no more than seven or eight. The tiny blonde glanced at his watch and bit his lip in worry. "She's always late," he reminded himself, although it was little comfort. The night made him nervous; call it imagination or paranoia, but something about this town seemed unusually dangerous. His mother always told him he watched too many scary movies. Maybe she was right. Even now, he swore there was some monster lurking in the shadows of the park.

"Are you lost?" cooed a sweet, quiet voice. The boy turned quickly toward the direction of the noise, surprised to see a woman approaching him. She didn't appear threatening, her features were soft, her voice lilting, but the voice inside his head told him to be wary.

"No, my mom's just supposed to pick me up is all," he told her before stepping away from her and climbing on the children's gym feet away.

"Do you want me to walk you home?" she asked kindly, head tilted to the side.

"No, thank you," he replied courteously. His mother always told him good manners were important.

"My mummy used to sing me to sleep at night," she murmured, gliding toward him, her hands skimming over the cold metal of the play gym, her eyes never leaving his. "Run and catch.the lamb is caught in the blackberry patch." she sang softly, her eyes cloudy over. "She had the sweetest voice. What will your mummy sing when they find your body?" Her conversational tone gave him pause.

"Um, I'm not supposed to talk to people." he informed her nervously, his voice trembling a bit.

"Oh. Well, I'm not a person, see, so that's." she started, attempting to take a step closer to the boy before she was intercepted. Her brown eyes narrowed but soon were wide with surprise. Her calculating grin turned gleeful as she recognized the boy's would-be rescuer.

"Run home," the dark haired stranger demanded, looking at the young boy sternly. The blonde wasted no time and took off into the night. Drusilla couldn't help but pout as she saw her evening meal run away, but soon enough her attention returned to the vampire in front of her.

"My Angel." she grinned, moving closer to him.

"Hello Drusilla," he said softly, holding her gaze. He could detect a trace of sanity in those depths, but it was quickly masked by the insanity he had placed there.

"Do you remember the song mummy used to sing me? Pretty." she asked, twirling her hair with her fingers.

"I remember," he assured her, his tone not revealing his churning emotions. His throat was choked up, just at the sight of her. She was beautiful, delicate, almost breakable, but in reality she was anything but. She had been broken once before, by him no less, and had never truly been repaired. It was hard for him to look into the face that represented all the awful things he had done as Angelus.

"Yes, you do." she agreed with a small nod.

"Drusilla, leave here. I'm offering you that chance. Take Spike and get out," he ordered gently, his tone never harsh. Yelling at her wouldn't do any good. She'd probably think it was just a game.

"Or you'll hurt me?" she wondered with a reminiscent half-smile. He looked down immediately, his gaze focused on the ground beneath him. She smiled sadly and watched her sire closely. "No. No, you can't. Not anymore."

"If you don't leave it'll go badly. For all of us." He tried in vain to reason with her, but he knew it was useless. He had secrets, secrets he hadn't told Buffy, ones that could destroy their relationship. Unfortunately, Dru and Spike were two of those secrets and it looked like they were setting up shop in Sunnydale.

"My dear boy's gone away, hasn't he? To her," she whispered with a frown, her eyes sad. This was the only man who ever mattered to her. There was Spike too, but it was different with him, a different kind of love. He was her protector. But Angel was her sire, her love, her everything. She was what he made her. And he wasn't hers any longer. No, he belonged to her. To that slayer. And it made her heart ache.

~~~*~~~

Buffy dusted herself off and looked around the rooftop she was now standing on. Hearing the murmur of voices in the distance, she walked to the edge of the rooftop. Looking down, she frowned when she saw Angel talking with a woman. A beautiful woman, who looked too comfortable with him. Biting her lip, she strained to hear their conversation.

~~~*~~~

"Who?" Angel asked even though he already knew the answer.

"The girl. The slayer," Drusilla answered with a small growl. "Your heart stinks of her." she mumbled, her hand on his chest with a frown. "Poor little thing. She has no idea what's in store."

"This can't go on, Drusilla," he pleaded. "It's gotta end." She cocked her head to the side, smiling slightly and leaning in closer. Angel froze but didn't move away. He never could resist Dru for very long.

"Oh no, my pet. This is just the beginning." she warned with a twitch of her lips. Her eyes fell to his lips and then back to his eyes, hovering close to him in an almost-kiss before pulling away with a grin. Instead of saying anything more, she simply turned on her heel and walked calmly out deeper into the park. Angel watched her leave, his expression morose, before he turned in the opposite direction and slinked away.

Buffy watched them part, eyes full of confusion and hurt. Realizing there was nothing more to see, and too shaken to patrol, she left for home. She only hoped she'd be able to sleep tonight without thinking about Angel, her Angel, and the mystery woman.

~~~*~~~

Willow followed Buffy out the classroom that Tuesday, doing her best to be supportive as the blonde told her about the woman she had seen Angel with the night before. She did the usual nodding and 'uh huhs' and other wise kept her mouth shut. Buffy would find out soon enough who Drusilla really was and her relationship with Angel and Willow really didn't want to be the one to break the news to her. It wasn't her place. Besides, right now all Buffy needed was a friend, not advice.

They sat on the couch in the newly refurbished lounge when Xander bounded up the steps to join them with a smile. A smile which quickly vanished when he saw the look on the slayer's face.

"Hey, why so glum Buff?" She shrugged and looked at her joined hands that sat on her lap. Willow glanced over the blonde's head to Xander, mouthing 'Angel' and smirking when he rolled his eyes and nodded with a sigh.

"You just need cheering up. And I know just the thing!" he assured her, his enthusiasm causing Buffy to look up. "Crazed dance party at the Bronze!" he suggested with a grin. When she didn't respond he tried again. "Very calm dance party at the Bronze?" She continued to pout and he fell to the couch opposite them with a sigh. "Moping at the Bronze?"

"I'd suggest a box of oreos dunked in apple juice, but maybe she's over that phase." offered a familiar voice. While Xander and Willow hid a cringe, Buffy jumped up and spun around, the sadness on her face vanishing at the sight of the young man standing there.

"Ford?" she asked in surprise. Standing there, he looked like the usual description of the all-American boy. Brown hair that fell around his ears, tucked behind them neatly, shining coffee colored eyes that danced with amusement, full lips quirked in a tiny smile. He didn't look like the boy who wanted to trade his old friend's life to gain immortality. That was the problem these days. It was harder and harder to distinguish the enemy. He merely grinned and opened his arms, pulling her close.

"Hey Summers," he greeted with a bright smile. "How've you been?"

"Oh my God! What are you doing here?" she demanded with a smack on his arm, her smile uncontrollable.

"Uh, matriculating?" he replied with a chuckle. "I'm finishing out my senior year at Sunnydale. My dad got transferred," he told her with a grin.

"This is great!" she exclaimed with an excited grin. She glanced behind her and suddenly realized how rude she was being. "Oh! I'm sorry. Um guys, this is Ford," she introduced Willow and Xander. "Billy Fordham. Ford, this is Xander and Willow." They quietly nodded their greetings and remained silent. Buffy frowned at their lack of a response but shrugged their cold demeanor off. "Hey," she said, returning her attention to the newcomer. "Are you busy tonight? We're going to the Bronze, it's the local club. You have to come."

"I'd love to," he replied with a nervous glance towards Willow and Xander. "But if you guys already have plans.would I be imposing?"

"Only in the most literal sense," muttered Xander snidely, but the other boy didn't hear his biting comment.

"Of course not!" declared Buffy, entwining her arm with his.

"Okay then, I uh.I gotta find the admissions office. Get my papers in order," he explained with an apprehensive glance.

"Well, you know what, I'll take you there. Oh, and I'll see you guys in French," she called over her shoulder as she led Ford away, the pair chatting animatedly.

Willow watched them walk away blankly. Xander glared at the boy's back one last time before glancing to the floor and then to Willow. The redhead ran her hand through her hair and rested her head in her hands.

"So.he's back," Xander stated, moving to join Willow on the couch.

"Yup," she agreed.

"Do we stop him from making a deal with Spike?" he asked softly. Biting her lip, gnawing indelicately on the flesh, as she thought it over. She didn't see how they could stop him. Talking to him wouldn't make a difference. Buffy probably wouldn't believe them if they told her his plan. Angel didn't trust Willow enough to really listen to her, neither did Giles. The only person left to confront would be Spike and she really didn't want to seek him out. Even if she could find where he was hiding out, that conversation was destined to end badly; that was a confrontation she wanted to postpone as long as possible. So the decision was practically made for her. With a shrug, she looked to Xander.

"No."

~Part: 20~

Buffy excused herself and weaved her way through the dense crowd in the Bronze. Xander and Ford were busy playing pool, Willow watching and cheering on her best friend as expected. Feeling a sudden thirst come over her, the slayer headed to the bar, pausing mid-step when she saw a familiar face waiting there.

"Hi," she greeted with a forced smile. If Angel noticed her sour mood, he didn't say anything.

"Hey, I was hoping you'd show," he said, happy to see her. He granted her one of those rare smiles but she wasn't in the mood to appreciate it.

"Yeah." she murmured, her comment followed by a noticeable lull in conversation. Sighing in frustration, Buffy decided to just ask her important question, just get it over with. "So, um, what did you do last night?" she did her best to sound casual.

"Nothing," he shrugged, his cotton clad shoulders hunching.

"Nothing at all?" she inquired with a disbelieving glance. "You ceased to exist?"

"No," he replied, his brow furrowed in confusion at her attitude. "I mean I stayed in, read." There was no need to let her know about his association with Drusilla and Spike, hopefully Dru will have taken his advice by now and be long gone, Spike in tow, by now. She wouldn't he knew, but he could dream.

"Oh," she mumbled, feeling disappointment and something she couldn't identify sweep over her at his denial. Without another word she turned and started back toward the pool tables, seeing that the trio she had left behind was watching her intently. She smiled at Ford, who glanced at the tall stranger that was now following Buffy back from the bar.

"Hi," the new boy said, extending his hand to the stranger as he looked him up and down.

"This is Ford," Buffy explained with a perfunctory look to Angel. "We went to school in L.A. together."

"Nice to meet you," the vampire offered, jaw only slightly clenched.

"Whoa! Cold hands." Ford observed, pulling back a little.

"You're not wrong," snorted Xander, earning him twin sets of glares from Buffy and Willow.

"So, you here visiting Buffy?" Angel hoped, wanting nothing more than to be assured that soon enough this pretty boy would be leaving. He didn't like the way the kid looked at Buffy, all moony-eyed. Doing his best to stop from glowering at the boy, he waited for an answer.

"No, actually I'm here to stay," Ford replied with a grin. "Just moved down." Angel simply nodded but Willow, who was observing the pair closely, could practically hear the low rumble of a growl coming from Angel, even as he tried to stifle it.

"Y'know, it's getting really crowded in here tonight," Buffy interrupted the awkward conversation hesitantly. Facing her old friend, she tried to smile brightly. "Um.I'm a little hot. You wanna take a walk?" He agreed eagerly and the slayer gathered her things as quickly as possible. Before Angel could even blink, she and Ford were out the door.

"Okay." Xander drawled as he watched Angel fix the door with a furious glare. "Once more with the tension."

"He just moved here?" Angel demanded, turning back to Willow, the tone of his voice urgent.

"Yeah," Xander answered for her with a roll of his eyes. "And boy does he move fast."

"Xan!" Willow hissed in reprimand, smacking him on the arm before trying to reassure Angel. "But don't worr-" she started, frowning when she realized she was talking to thin air. She sighed and glared at the spot Angel had previously been standing in. "I hate when he does that."

~~~*~~~

Buffy was glad to be out of the stuffy club. It felt like the walls had been closing in on her. She needed the fresh air, well, as fresh as air got in southern California, smog and all. Ford was at her side as they shared a companionable silence. A muffled screech and the sounds of a struggle caused Buffy to stop suddenly, and listen. Hearing another, slightly closer, scream she turned to Ford, seeing him looking at her in confusion.

"Purse!" she shouted, saying the first thing that came to her. "My purse. I left in the Bronze! Can you, like, go back and grab it for me?" she asked, words spilling from her mouth quickly. Not waiting for a response, she pushed him away toward the club before running off in the opposite direction. Shrugging, the brunette went to go back inside, nearly running into a crying woman who had just bolted out of the alley.

Halting his steps, Ford snuck toward the mouth of the alley, poking his head around the corner and nearly jumping when a metal trash can flew out of no where and hit the wall across from him. He watched in fascination, his brown eyes gleaming from the streetlight, as Buffy fought a man. No, not a man, he corrected himself. No man had ridges and fangs like that. But from the looks of it, she was winning, so he remained in the shadows, not wanting to distract her.

Kicking the vampire harshly, knocking him back into the brick wall, Buffy thrust her stake out, her aim true as it pierced his chest, straight through to the heart. She pushed her hair out of her face as she saw the demon turn to dust and drift away in the breeze. Seeing that her job was done, she went to leave, freezing when she saw Ford standing there a few feet away.

"Uh, there.there was a cat," she tried to explain, afraid of his reaction to what he saw. "A cat here, and.um.then there was a-another cat.and they fought. The cats," she clarified, inwardly cringing at her lame speech. "And.then they left."

"Oh," he replied with a tiny smile. "I just thought you were slaying a vampire." He said that in such a cavalier manner that she was immediately taken aback.

"What? Whatting a what?" she stammered, unsure how to respond to his blunt statement.

"You don't have to lie, Buffy," he told her, his tone quiet and soothing. "I know. I've been trying to figure out the right time t-to tell you. I know you're the slayer."

Buffy waited for the standard, you're crazy lecture, or maybe his laughter, but neither came. Instead, she found understanding on his handsome face. Grinning in relief, she returned to his side, the twosome talking softly about how he figured it all out as she walked him home. She was just so happy she didn't have to fear him finding out her secret any longer. She never wanted to lie to him. After all, he would never lie to her.

~~~*~~~

Ford waited ten minutes after Buffy left before slipping out his bedroom window. His parents had long since fallen asleep and he had people to see, plans to make. He easily navigated the darkened streets of Sunnydale with little effort, grinning when he saw the shadowy buildings ahead in the warehouse district.

He almost shook his head at the choice of location; an old, forgotten bomb shelter in the rundown part of the warehouse district, such a typical den of evil. It was so ridiculously predictable it gave him a headache. But the people that visited it were also sadly predictable. No one in that building had an original thought in their head, but he was okay with that. It would be to his advantage in the end.

Walking up to a steel door, which he already knew would be locked, he rapped sharply. A small section of the metal was moved to the side as a man, or his eyes, observed the newcomer. Without saying a word the door was swung open and Ford stepped inside, descending the staircase slowly as a boy, looking more like a magician than a teenager, accompanied by a curvy blonde, greeted him.

"Well? How'd it go?" the boy asked eagerly.

"It went good," Ford replied vaguely, knowing Marvin, or was it Diego now, would be dying for details.

"Good? That's it?" Diego asked incredulously. "That's all we know? When are we."

"Soon," Ford murmured, quickly growing bored with this conversation. He only stopped here tonight because he had to, but soon he would be out the door. He had important business to attend to. "Everything's gonna be fine. Just make sure you're ready when I say," he reminded him sternly. "True believers only."

"I can't wait!" the woman, Chantrelle, exclaimed excitedly, earning a smile from Ford and a roll of the eyes from Diego.

"A couple more days," sighed Ford, losing himself in his thoughts, "and we'll get to do the two things every American teen should have the chance to do: die young and stay pretty."

~~~*~~~

Spike sat, one leg thrown over the arm of the high backed chair in the large room of the factory he used as a meeting hall. He was tempted to go into town, to hunt, but didn't feel like it at the moment. Besides, he had business that needed taking care of. That minion, the smart one, Dalton something-or-other, may have found something useful in his quest to heal Dru, to make her strong.

"You," he said suddenly, pointing to a bleached blonde minion who had just appeared from the hall. She paid him complete attention, golden eyes fixed on his. "I've got a job for you. Feeling up to a little breaking and entering?" he grinned when she straightened and awaited his instructions eagerly.

After giving her the assignment, he dismissed her, watching out of the corner of his eye as she darted out of the factory and out to find what he needed. Glad that it was taken care of for the time being, he sat back in his chair.

Too soon his satisfied demeanor faded. He was bored. Dru was busy playing with Miss Edith, he didn't feel hungry, so hunting was out, and he couldn't stand the idea of conversing with the morons he was surrounded with, useless, the lot of them. So what was a demon to do?

Normally a spot of torture would make for a good night, but he wasn't in the mood. He hadn't been himself for a few days now. Not since the fiasco on Halloween. He had tried to find the redhead again, desperate to find out what she had done to him, to find out what kind of spell he could be under, but she was no where to be found. Seems the little witch had went into hiding, smart chit.

But sadly that left him without answers. So now, he was stuck in the factory, brooding again, which was bloody tiring, he might add. He only hoped that soon he would find that redhead, if not tonight, then maybe tomorrow. Because he wasn't sure of he could stand much more of this. He hated that she knew something he didn't, knowledge was power, after all. And right now, she had all the power. But that wouldn't last for long if he had anything to say about it.

~~~*~~~

Angel was walking and brooding, a talent he had perfected to the letter. Hands stuffed in his coat pocket, head down, he continued down the scarcely populated streets of Sunnydale. Normally he would be patrolling with Buffy right about now, listening to her talk, not really paying attention, just delighting in hearing her voice. But not tonight. No, tonight she was busy with Ford.

He didn't trust the little brat. That seemed to be a reoccurring theme in his life as of late. He didn't trust Xander, or Willow, but especially not Ford. He seemed too eager to please, too.something. He just couldn't put his finger on it. And it had nothing to do with the fact that he and Buffy had a past. No, he wasn't jealous of their closeness at all. His concerns had nothing to do with petty jealousy. Oh screw it, he was jealous, there he admitted it. Angel was so used to being the center of Buffy's world; he was the only thing she saw when he stepped into a room. But tonight she had barely spoken to him, instead leaving with Ford after a perfunctory hello.

Passing by the high school which was dark, like it was supposed to be, he looked up at the sound of a scuffle. Eyes narrowing the vampire abandoned his sullen walk and ran toward the right side of the building, near the quad. Preparing himself for battle, his footsteps faltered and then stopped completely at the sight before him.

There was a blonde vampire on the ground, obviously caught sneaking about the campus. She was in game face and looking nervously at the cross that was held only a few inches away from her face by the boy straddling her. Angel watched the scene intently, seeing a glint in the boy's eyes that worried him. He snuck closer to the pair, now able to clearly hear the harsh breathing coming from Ford and the anxious growls from the girl.

"You've got one chance to live," Ford warned her, his face set in a mask of elation, this was so cool. "Tell me what I want to know.and I'll let you go." he told her, pausing at the perfect moments, pressing the stake he held in his left hand closer to her chest. Angel strained to hear, he needed to know what the brat was up to. He was trouble, now he only had to prove it.

"I want to know where your master is," Ford demanded, Angel's eyes widening in surprise. "I want to know how to find Spike."

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