"Save my baby!" The young mother screamed at Team Magician, "My husband just left, and I can't lose her, too!" Her two-story house at the edge of the woods was burning quite merrily, and the fire department clearly had no intention of answering yet another pre-dawn call.

"Where is she, ma'am?" Angel examined the house.

"Second floor bedroom, right there!" the woman pointed to a window the fire hadn't reached.

"Empress-" Angel started to order Faith while the flames moved onto the roof.

"Not her!" Buffy interrupted, "Nothing can happen to her. I'll do it."

Ethan backed her up, "She is correct. Black Ten help her." George moved in next to Buffy.

"Guys, group of Vaders on its way here, ten o'clock," Faith announced, stake in hand. "Undead variety."

Angel wasn't paying attention, "Remember," he told Buffy who was clambering into George's massive hands, "Keep you head down. Stay below the smoke."

Paying even less attention to him, Buffy had one question for the mother, "What is her name?"

"Madeline!" And the demon threw Buffy skyward.

She covered her face with her arms to protect herself from the window glass that shattered around her. Using her forward momentum, she rolled to the center of the room and quickly surveyed the room through a layer of smoke.

A little kids room. Lots of toys. An empty crib, but no little kid. She had to move fast because the room was getting hotter by the second.

Buffy ducked to a level below the smoke, "Madeline! Madeline!" She couldn't hear a response, if there was one, over the dull roar of the fire. No kid under the crib. No kid by the toy box. Flinging the closet open, Buffy caught sight of a pair of big brown eyes.

"Are you Maddy?" Buffy knelt down, trying not to scare her.

A frightened nod was her response.

Well aware that she probably appeared rather frightening in her black face paint, Buffy did her best to be reassuring, "Your mommy sent me here to get you." Buffy didn't wait for an answer and gathered the child in her arms, heading for the window.

Before she had moved three steps in that direction, a mass of flaming debris from the ceiling crashed down in front of the window. The exit was completely blocked. If they were going to get out, it would have to be through the bedroom door, into the burning hallway. She, the Slayer, might survive the fire beyond the door, but Maddy almost definitely wouldn't.

Something on the floor seized Buffy's eyes. Not even spending time thinking, Buffy grabbed a blanket off the crib that Maddy must have climbed out of to the closet. Maddy's mother had kept a dehumidifier in the room, and it was full. Buffy soaked the blanket in the water just long enough to be sure it was wet all the way through.

"Listen, Maddy," Buffy explained, wrapping the little girl up. "This is going to keep you safe. It may get a little hot." She covered Maddy's faced.

Buffy went to the door. She knew there was fire behind it and opening it would feed the fire more air, but she had no choice. This was the only option. Ducking down low to one side of the door, Buffy used all her strength to kick the door inward off its hinges.

The door was caught and flung back across the room by the fire rushing in. Buffy shielded Maddy with her body and counted down from five.

5 . . . 4 . . . 3 . . . 2 . . . 1

Buffy ran out the door, through the fire, carrying Maddy with her.

Hot. Scorching. Intense.

She searched blindly among the flames for the stairs.

Red. Smoking. Blazing.

She could hardly breathe the super-heated air as she stumbled past the railing and down the stairs.

Torrid. Baking. Searing. And into the gates of Hell in the hallway below. She was faced with sheets of flame in the three directions before her. Four because the stairs collapsed behind her.

Closed. Burning. Suffocating.

There was nowhere to go. They were trapped. There was only the heat, surrounding her. The fire was closing in, choking her. Nowhere left to run.

*I`m sorry, Maddy . . . I`m sorry Spike.* Buffy mentally apologized.

A hole opened up in one of the burning walls next to her.

"Hey, you staying here?" Faith's voice came from the hole.

Buffy stared through the smoke and saw Faith had kicked her way in from the kitchen. The kitchen was burning too, but there was another hole to the outside.

"Sorry, no time to chat. Let's go," Faith grabbed Buffy's arm and pulled her toward the exit.

It only took a few seconds, but it felt like an eternity. It was something akin to trying to get a suntan by laying on the surface of the sun.

When they got to the hole, Faith didn't allow any discussion. She just shoved Buffy and Maddy out the hole. They landed hard, and Buffy looked up to see Faith start to emerge.

She suddenly pitched forward, half in, half out. A beam had fallen from the ceiling and pinned Faith's right leg down.

"NO!" Buffy set Maddy on the ground and ran back to Faith.

Faith struggled for a few seconds as Buffy attempted to pull her out. "It's no good. I'm stuck. Leave me," Her face was twisted in pain, made visible by the fire burning even more intensely.

"I can't let that happen!" Buffy braced herself against the house and tried again.

"Give it up!" Faith insisted.

"I won't leave you-" a shadow loomed over them. One long clawed hand reached past Buffy and yanked Faith forward. Faith was free so fast she didn't have time to react.

George. They had forgotten about George.

They got clear of the house, George holding Faith and Buffy holding Maddy. The reuniting began, the mother hugging Maddy with tears in of joy. Buffy, however, was far to busy examining Faith's injury.

"I think it's sprained," Buffy probed Faith's rapidly swelling ankle.

Faith winced, "Yes! God, press a little harder, won't you?"

"What were you doing in there? You could have gotten yourself killed," Buffy admonished.

"Saving your worthless hide," Faith shifted in George's arms.

"I wasn't in any trouble," Buffy denied. Angel came up behind her and rested an arm on her shoulder. She had to fight the urge to shrug him off.

"You were one step from being well done," Angel told her. "I was worried."

"After we killed the vampires, he sent me in after you," Faith tried to explain.

Those words made Buffy's blood boil. Angel had sent Faith after her? "She's the most important person out here, and you sent her into a burning building?" She shook her head violently, "I was never in any real danger. If I had been . . ."

Buffy paused. Something had been noticeably absent through the whole ordeal. Someone, rather, who was always watching over her. Someone who should have at lest reacted to her close call. Mentally, she reached out toward the mansion. He wasn't there.

"Where is he?" Buffy was over to Ethan in a flash, lifting him up by his collar.

Ethan was no fool. He knew exactly to whom Buffy referred, "Well, he's-"

"Excuse me," The mother had recovered somewhat. "Did you say there were vampires?" She stared at the group, and who could blame her? There was a giant demon and a tiny blonde holding a large man off the ground with one hand.

Buffy let Ethan down, "Empress and Black Ten of Swords are injured. Magician, take everyone back to base."

"Except you?" Ethan asked carefully.

"Right. Make sure Empress gets to the med lab STAT. Hanged Man, you can debrief these two," Buffy ordered.

"I'm staying," Angel informed her.

Biting back a response, Buffy kept her cool since Faith was watching, "Fine. The rest of you get going." She stepped to Faith and squeezed her hand, "Take care."

"I'm five by five," Faith insisted, tossing her hair. Ethan grabbed George's and the mother's arm.

As they faded from view, the mother's words were left, "What's going on?"

"Look-" Angel started.

Buffy decked him with a right uppercut to the teeth. He fell hard. "What the Hell were you thinking?" She didn't bother to let him answer but stalked off in the direction she could feel Spike.

Angel jogged up next to her and tried to take her hand, "Listen, I was scared."

She pulled her hand back, "You were scared? You know what would be alot scarier? Getting her killed and making all this crap we're going through pointless! That's scary."

"I don't want anything to happen to you."

"Newsflash. On this one, I don't matter. She's all that counts right now. All that matters. Don't you get it?" Buffy was almost shouting as she passed the silent houses.

He stopped her by setting his hands on her shoulders, "You have to hear what I want to say."

"Get your hands off me!" her voice was dangerously low.

"What's the matter with you?" Angel was getting annoyed. "Why are you letting things get like this between us? If you would just try-"

"Try what? Going back to the way things were? There is no `us.' We are over!" Buffy hissed.

"Why won't you give it a chance? We were good together," he pleaded.

Her jaw dropped, "Are you kidding? We had our chances. Over and over again. It didn't work then, and it's not possible now." She spread her arms to make him let her go. "This is all an act. Tomorrow everything will be back to normal."

"It doesn't have to be," Angel said.

"It does. Let me make this clear one last time. I love him. He's what I feel every second of the day. He has my heart. I have his. There is no question of me ever leaving him. If I lost him, it would kill me, more than the fire could have tonight. He is everything to me. Nothing on earth can come between us."

"Then why didn't you know where he was?" Angel challenged, "Why didn't he do anything at the fire?"

"Why did you even think I would ever consider betraying my best friend?" Buffy threw the conversation for a loop, "Do you think I'm so weak that I would betray my love and my best friend?"

No words could come out of Angel to defend himself.

Buffy sighed and sounded very tired, "That's right. You didn't think." She took off her ring and threw it at him, "We're over. Let it go."

"Can't you two just get along?" Whistler appeared beside them.

"Apparently, no," Angel pocketed the ring.

"Do you have any idea how many times you two have broken up? The Powers aren't exactly happy. You have some serious issues," Whistler informed them.

"Some of us have issues," Buffy scoffed, "Others of us are perfectly fine."

"Don't you kids understand the stakes of this game? We've got some major investment in you," Whistler shrugged, "If anyone is going to survive, you have to be focused, no distractions."

"We'll be there. I promise," Angel tried to assure the short demon.

"I can't take your word, kid. There's tension in the ranks, and we don't like that. You will know. When you are calm, at peace. Passive."

"Do you watch anything but Star Wars?" Buffy doubted, "Look, I'd love to stay here and hear you be vague for a few hours, but I've got places to go. Later." She strode off.

"What are you waiting for? Go after her!" Whistler commanded the motionless Angel.

Angel complied.

"Ow!" Willow sat up and found her shoulder strangely immobilized.

"You're awake," Oz slid over to her.

Willow saw she was in her own room, "Why am I hear?" She tried to see her shoulder, "What's wrong with my arm?"

"Dr. Goldenvich said to rest for a day with that big burn," Oz pushed some of her hair off her forehead, "You only lost a little hair."

She chose to block that sentence out and said, "How long will my shoulder be like this?"

"A week," Oz said.

"So short? How?" Willow wanted to know.

"Magic," he answered with a straight face.

"Oh," Willow touched her hair, "It doesn't feel very short. Does it look okay?"

"It's fine. Hungry?" Oz hinted helpfully.

"A little," she licked her lips, "What have we got?"

"Vegetable beef."

Spike was prepared when the door to the bar was forced open.

"Are you crazy?" Buffy and Spike said at the same time, Spike simply anticipating her words.

"No, he's drunk," Angel said with Spike. The great Poof had come in after Buffy.

"Pike, how could you let him do this?" Buffy and Spike accused in unison.

"I didn't have a choice," Pike and Spike chorused.

"Will you stop that?" Buffy finally asked her boyfriend, who said it with her.

"No." He took a drink out of one of the many bottles scattered around him. His hands were unsteady as he set it back down. It started to fall.

But Buffy was already there, keeping it on the bar, "You need to get in bed."

"No," Spike repeated and tried to pry the bottle out of her hand, "You get the bed. Not me."

"What?" Buffy followed her question with, "Stop that." She held the bottle tighter.

"Itz mine. If I don't get my bed tonite, ducks, give me the bottle."

"Buffy, just give him the bottle," Anya cut in. "We've been trying to stop him all night."

"Shut yer hole!" Spike slurred at her, "I'm sacrificing it all, unlike you. I'm letting Peaches here take my woman to bed, so I don't wanna hear `bout it from youz either."

"I have to sleep with Angel?" Buffy was so stunned she let the bottle go.

"Mine," Spike held it close and addressed his girlfriend, "Stay `way. I don't wanna see you, Buffy," he was too far gone to care about the hurt his words left in her.

"With pleasure," Buffy spat back. She snapped her fingers, "Anya, take us home."

Anya linked arms with Buffy and touched Spike's shoulder while Pike and Angel took hold of her back.

"No fair. I ain't goin-"

And the bar was empty.

Two couples had identical conversations.

"My side, your side," She cordoned off the areas.

"I know," he sighed.

"Cross it, and you lose pieces."

It was going to be a long time till dawn.

73 Days to Apocalypse

The sun had been up for five hours, and Xander was deep in briefing Faith and Forrest in the strategy room, "Here's the current commander of the Initiative, Riley Finn," Xander showed them a slide from the U.C. Sunnydale records.

Faith popped a bubble in her gum. Her right ankle was propped up on the table in front of her. The doctor and witches believed that between the drugs, the healing spells, and her hyper-Slayer healing that her foot would be in top condition by the time she left in the afternoon. "That's great. I don't see where I come in."

"Fortunately for us, commando-boy has a weakness," Cordelia chimed in, "A very common weakness," That comment was aimed at Xander.

"Really?" Faith bent over to get more gum, letting Forrest get an eyeful of her cleavage, "What's that?"

"Girls," Cordelia tossed a pen at Forrest, who shoved his tongue back in his mouth and straightened up.

"Who's giving the lecture? Me or you?" Xander went back on track, "Agent Finn has been very interested in Buffy this past year."

"So why don't you send her?" Faith asked, a logical question.

"He didn't take too well to the way Buffy likes the undead."

"Yeah, in her bed. No kidding it must have ticked him off," Faith had to agree on that one.

"That's putting it mildly. The boy was jealous and pissed off enough to kill." Forrest reiterated.

"Which is exactly why Buffy is no good for this. You're perfectly suited to do this, though. You're a Slayer, you're beautiful, and he has no reason to think you sleep with the undead," Xander continued on.

"Ahhh . . ." Cordelia said, her hands going to her head, "Xander-" She tumbled to the floor and started to shake with a vision.

"Cordy!" Xander could only stand over her. He'd been told that the vision would pass. It should only last a few seconds and then she would get up like nothing had happened.

Only it wasn't stopping. She was still on the floor thrashing her bandaged arms. It wasn't ending. It just kept going.

And going.

And going.

He didn't know what to do. This was out of his league, and seeing her in this condition petrified him to the bone. He'd seen her have short visions before, but nothing resembling this. She needed help, and he had no clue how to give it to her. Normally, he'd probably go get Spike, except now Spike was sleeping the sleep of the undead and drunk. Faith and Forrest had not experience in this at all. Xander didn't want her to get hurt, and his powerlessness was scaring him. What could he do?

"Is everything okay?" Oz came in from the back, "I heard weird voices."

"Oz, get over here," Xander motioned him closer, "I need your help. It's Cordy."

Xander had never seen Oz move so fast. In the blink of an eye, Oz was on his hands and knees next to her quaking form. He gathered her carefully into his arms, avoiding her wild struggles.

"What are you doing?" Xander gave Oz a hand standing up.

"Taking her someplace safer than the floor."

She moaned, and Xander dropped a small kiss on her forehead, "Don't let anything happen to her," He glanced back at Faith, who was looking with genuine worry at Cordelia. His voice became very quiet, "Bad stuff always happens to the women I love," He realized what he had said and fixed it, "Or loved."

"Don't worry," Oz sprinted out the door.

Xander took a deep calming breath, trying to ease the tightness in his chest, "I'm sure she'll be fine. She will be. Perfectly fine. I know it. Really . . . okay . . . everything is fine." A pause. "Riley Finn: wanted Buffy, couldn't have her."

Cordelia opened her eyes. She was in Xander's room, in the bed she had spent the night. The first face she was, surprisingly, was Oz's. "Oh, it's you."

"I get that alot."

She put a hand on her aching forehead, "How long?"

He knew she meant the vision, "An hour." Her eyes closed in frustrated exhaustion, "I need Anya. Now."

"Good luck," Buffy hugged Faith, "You're not going to need it, but take it anyway."

"Thanks, B," Faith tested her leg on the mansion's porch. "Luck never hurts. Like back in that house, me finding you and the kid."

"I never got a chance to thank you for saving my life," Buffy decided to do it, "Thanks, Faith."

"No biggie. You'd do the same for me," Faith answered empathetically.

Never before had Buffy been so glad Faith couldn't hear inside her head. She was barely able to say, "Good luck." She hugged her a second time to cover.

"What's with all the touchy-feely?" Faith inquired quizzically.

"I worry, okay? I mean, if something happened to you, there'd be a new Slayer, and you know how much I hate new people," Buffy joked.

Faith abruptly changed her tone, "You're not the only one." She peeked over at Forrest, Xander, and Angel having a last-minute conversation, "Angel said that about you too, the worrying part."

"Don't you worry about him," Buffy said shortly before she could stop herself.

"Something going on that you're not telling me? He's acting like he's got something up his ass, but you don't seem to care. I know you two can't do the deed-" Faith blinked once, and her voice got very excited, "B, are you getting some stick action someplace else?"

Buffy couldn't contain her confirming flush, "Shhh," she hoped Faith would buy this half-truth, "He can't know."

"Your secret's safe with me," Faith smiled, running her eyes over Forrest, "Besides, I would never stop anyone from getting a hop on doing the bad."

Playfully punching Faith's arm, Buffy cautioned, "Watch your step on that one. Riley gets really possessive."

"I'll be good, I promise," Faith winked conspiratorially, "I'll be very good."

Xander came over to them, "Ladies, it's that time."

"All right, time for me good-byes," Faith grabbed Xander and kissed him soundly on the mouth. "Bye, Xander." She caught Angel and delivered the same treatment, "Bye, Angel."

On Forrest, however, she hauled him almost on top of her, and the kiss went on forever. Buffy, unruffled, tapped her foot while Xander and Angel looked like they were on the verge of having simultaneous coronaries. Finally, Faith drew back, grinning veraciously; Forrest could only try to catch his breath. "Opps, I don't have to say good-bye to you. My mistake."

Seeing he might be getting a little too entwined with the `goods' he was supposed to deliver to Riley, Forrest took a long step away, "Let's go." he started walking away from the mansion with as much dignity as he could muster.

"God, that boy has a tight ass," Faith commented to Buffy and unprotestingly went after him.

When the two were out of sight, Buffy faced Xander. "Is it over?"

He was lost in thought for a moment and then absentmindedly said, "Uh-huh." He roused himself out of the trance, "What? Are we done? Yes. If you two will excuse me, I've got some reports to catch up on." Angel said, "Buffy-"

"Save it."

His head hurt. It was pounding on all sides. Spike groaned as he came to, "Somebody put a stake in me."

"That can be arranged," a crisp voice said from nearby.

"What?" Spike dragged his head around to see where he was and with whom.

"Welcome back," Buffy coolly greeted him from a chair in their room.

Their room. He was in the room he shared with Buffy. His love.

"I feel awful," Spike said out loud.

"You should. You drank half the stock in the bar," Buffy reminded him coldly.

"I didn't mean that," he could read how angry she was very clearly, "I meant about what I said last night."

"You were jealous."

"I was. Seeing him make goggly-eyes at my woman," he fumed.

Her eyebrows raised, "`Your woman?'"

"And you let him!" Spike growled.

"I didn't fight enough?" Buffy said in disbelief, "You shut me down when I said anything about it.

"But you gave in like nothing. I expected more protest, a slap or two. I got nothing," he complained, kicking at his bed sheets.

"Don't make this my fault! It was your idea! I was doing what you wanted!" she protested heatedly.

"But I didn't know I would hate it so much!" he thundered. "There, I said it. I'm a big bloody idolt. I thought I could handle watching you with him. I couldn't. I got mad at you for no good reason," Those words physically hurt his head. Spike threw his arm over his head to shield his eyes from the light. "In case you haven't noticed, your boyfriend is very stupid. Very stupid and very in love."

He felt her climb into the bed, and lay her head on his chest, "It's tough to stay mad at you when you are all apologetic and hungover.

"For real?" he removed his arm from his face and rested his hands on her back.

"One hundred percent," She brushed her mouth to his. Happy white light grew across their bond, eclipsed possibly by the light in her eyes.

"I love you," he held her to him, but then grumbled, "But I hate him."

"I love you too," she twisted her lips, "Would it make you feel better to know that I put him down hard when he even tried to come on to me?"

"A little," Spike touched her face gently, "We're all right?"

"We're all right," she confirmed.

"Good," he released her and closed his eyes, "With that out of the way, I'm going to take a nap."

"No, you're not."

"Yes, I am," his eyes stayed shut.

"No, you're not."

"Yes, I am."

"Believe me, no, you're not."

"Yes, I am," he opened his eyes.

"No, you're not," Buffy told him, stripping off her last piece of clothing.

"No, I'm not," Spike amended before she pulled him up for a kiss.

"Willow?" Angel walked into her room and shut the door.

"Hi, Angel," she set down the magic book she was reading in bed.

He walked over to her bed, "I heard about your shoulder. I'm sorry. It must hurt, but your hair looks fine."

"It's not too bad," Willow tapped her left shoulder swathed in white bandages. Her voice sounded higher than usual, "With medicine and magic, it should be better by next week. I can't patrol until then. Which is good. Not really good for patrol, but good for me, and good that the burn is healing this fast because I'm needed. The Tarot needs me to be in top form, though I'm not that important."

"Are you okay?" He was confused by the way she was acting.

"I'm babbling, aren't I? It sometimes happens," she was talking extremely fast now. "When I get nervous, I babble like a brook. Which don't really babble. They kind of glub-glub . . . "

"Willow!" Angel got her to focus.

"Sorry. How are you? How were things with Buffy? Did you two handle the pretending okay? Not that I wanted things to go badly or anything. And they could have. Which doesn't mean anything. Close quarters and dangers of patrolling together for the first time. Either way, anything could have happened. But I don't need to know, if you don't want to tell me," She stopped for air, "And the babbling is back. I don't do it on purpose. I can't seem to keep myself from doing it."

"Buffy and I are over," Angel interrupted quietly.

The sentence hung in the air for a second. Willow gasped, "Oh."

"Yeah. We have nothing to go back to. Buffy loves Spike now," he took her right hand, "And I have you."

"I - I - don't know what to say," Willow stammered. "I had this whole thing planned, but now I don't know what to do. I've got to breathe. No, I've got to say it now, or I'll lose my nerve."

Angel swept some of her shortened hair back, "Say it."

"I'm not ready."

"What?" Angel hadn't seen that one coming.

"I'm sorry," Willow withdrew her hands, "I didn't think this was going to happen, but Oz . . . I thought my feelings were gone. They were supposed to be, and then . . ." she was almost crying, "There was so much between us . . . I just can't do it. I'm not ready."

"I see," Angel forced himself to say.

"I'm sorry," Willow did begin to cry, "Please give me time."

"Then take it," Angel left, closing the door tightly behind him.

Xander hated the paperwork piled on his desk. There were folders on folders on folders of intelligence reports, shift assignments, speculations of prophecies. After about an hour of work, he'd been able to clear a spot in front of him. He gazed longingly at his bed. Sleeping strictly on his side during the night with Cordelia had been a trial in itself. He'd lived in mortal fear of rolling over and getting the bad end of her temper. He hoped she was okay, since he hadn't seen her after Oz took her away.

Then Anya pranced in dressed, oddly for the Tarot, in a T-shirt and jeans and carrying yet another folder for him. She walked around the desk, kicked off her shoes, plopped the folder down on his recently cleared space, and sat on the folder, "Brought you a new one."

"I can see that," Xander reached for it, but she firmly stopped him. "However, I can't read it while you are sitting on it."

"I know that," her sense seemed somewhat preoccupied.

He glanced up at her face. The web was telling him of the strange mix of confusion and uncertainty running through her mind. It was somehow related to the folder and him. "Are you going to let me read it?"

"No," Anya answered simply. Her aura changed as if she had come to a decision, "Xander, you know I love you."

That was not what he would have predicted her to say, "Yes, I know. We've talked about this. I love you too."

"I know," Anya replied, and he felt her unexpectedly switch gears, "Let's have sex now." She tore off her T-shirt and started to take off her bra.

Xander's eyes bulged at the sight of her peaked nipples. While he caressed one between his thumb and forefinger, he half-heartedly protested, "On the desk?"

"On the chair, silly," Anya corrected him. She stood and stepped out of her jeans and lace panties.

"On the chair," Xander echoed as she began to unfasten his belt. He had never seen her swing into this so quickly; it was fast, even for her.

The rest of his body had no trouble since he sprung to attention quite readily under the ministrations of her expert fingers. She stroked him up and down urgently and straddled his hips with her bare thighs.

"Just let me do the work," Anya said, her eyes bright, her feverish need so evident. Without any foreplay, she thrust herself onto him.

She was unbelievably warm and wet, her warm body enveloping his thickness. Somewhere she began to kiss him, demanding and desperate. Her tongue swept across his as her lower body churned with his. Up and down, over and over again, every downward stroke bringing him deeper and deeper inside her. Their fingers twined together, and Xander struggled to hold back. She was riding him hard, and the urgency he could feel driving her was making it even more difficult.

Finally he pulled back from the kiss and captured her chin in his hands. Hazel eyes stared at him with such intensity though she was constantly in motion against him. The dizzying depth of emotion he could see entrapped him. It was there beneath the surface, beautiful and beckoning. He'd never felt so in tune with her. He wanted to make it last, forever, if it were possible. She tensed up suddenly, and the power of the orgasm that washed over her was reflected in her face.

She had climaxed without any clitoral stimulation whatsoever from him. Practically without any preparation at all, in fact. Times like that were few and far between, even for a couple as active as them. He was so amazed that he let himself go and followed her into the ecstasy.

It was heaven. Glorious, wonderful, dazzling heaven.

When they came down, Xander gazed at her slightly bowed head in awe, "Wow."

She straightened up, and Xander saw the last thing he thought he'd ever see on her face. Tears. "I love you," she whispered.

"I love you, too," he wiped them away.

"Good-bye," she got off him and began to rapidly redress.

"What?" Xander zipped himself back in, stunned.

"That was good-bye sex," Anya was fully clothed again, and headed toward the door, " . . . Read the folder." She was gone.

He flipped it open and scanned it quickly. Thirty seconds later and three pages into the report on Cordelia's vision, he was chasing after her, "Anya!"

Oz and Cordelia were waiting from him outside his room. Cordelia placed herself between him and the stairs, "Stop, Xander. She made her choice."

"No!" Xander ran toward the window that overlooked the porch to see two figures walking away from the mansion, "Make her come back. Anya!"

"We can't. She wanted this. She knew she was the best person for the job. The only person," Cordelia tried to make him see the reasoning.

Xander moved angrily to Oz, "Why isn't it you with her?"

"Jeremy and the wolf are one. I'm not," Oz admitted his weakness.

"She's not alone. Jeremy is with her. If anyone can make it as a wolf full-time, it's him," Cordelia said. "I Saw it."

Logically, Xander knew they were right. Anya was a human witch that had once been a demon. She was plainly different from normal humans, considering she was over a millennium old. Of all the Tarot, she was the most likely to succeed at her chosen task. With Jeremy transformed as her bodyguard, chances were good that her sacrifice would be worth it.

"Why?" Xander asked anyway.

They could have replied in several ways. They could have told him how important it was to have the best intelligence information. They could have said how necessary it had been to get more operatives in addition to Faith and Forrest out there. They could have told him that Anya alone could offer her unique existence as human and demon as a bargaining chip for survival. They could have given all sorts of reasons why Anya had taken Jeremy with her to infiltrate the Adam's Vader camp.

But Oz answered him, unknowingly using Spike's words to Anya the night previous, "Because she has to."