LOS ANGELES

AUGUST 14, 2009

10:00AM

"Come on Fluffy," said Bruce, as he chased the little Pekinese into the denser areas of the park, just outside the city. Every time he walked the dog, he hoped he wouldn’t run into one of his old school mates. Usually, some muscle-bound jock type, with a manly sized dog, as well.

"If I didn’t love your owner so much, and if I wasn’t having the best sex of my life, I wouldn’t be chasing after your ass, that’s for sure," he said, grunting, as he crashed through the brush.

Fluffy was digging at the foot of a small mound of earth, as Bruce caught up with him. He was just about to put him on his leash, when he saw the toe of a foot sticking up out of the dirt.

"Shit!" he said, as he pushed back some more dirt, only to uncover a leg attached to the foot.

Bruce high-tailed it out of the park, trying to decide what to do. He finally decided that here was no benefit to be had from coming into work late. Again. He went back to the apartment he shared with Jenny, dressed for work, then left. On the way to work, he stopped for a minute at a local convenience store, which had an outside phone, and anonymously notified the police about the body.

"What’s up?" asked Benny, his co-worker, when he arrived at the UPS loading dock a little while later.

"You wouldn’t believe me, if I told you," Bruce answered.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

LONDON, ENGLAND

AUGUST 15, 2009

FRIDAY

1:00PM

Giles stood up as Willow entered his office, followed by Sabrina.

"Willow," he said, coming around the desk to give her a warm hug, "I'm glad you're back."

"Thanks, it's good to be back," she said.

"Sabrina, it's good to see you, too. I'm glad you're both okay."

"Thank you, Rupert," Sabrina said.

They stood awkwardly for a moment. Finally, Giles turned to Sabrina; "I know it was traumatic for you, but would you mind recounting your version about what happened the night the coven was attacked."

Sabrina shifted uneasily from one foot to the other, "I was up late that night because I couldn’t sleep. I was in the kitchen looking for something to eat, when the attack started. I got scared and ran out, and hid in the woods until it was all over with. That's about it," she said shrugging.

"You didn't see or hear anything? Nothing at all?"

Sabrina looked up as if pondering his question, "No, not really. I just kept running, until I couldn't run anymore. I hid out for over an hour, then finally came back. Guess that was rather cowardly of me, wasn't it?"

"No, not at all. You’re not fully trained as a slayer, and you’ve only just begun to investigate your powers as a witch," Giles said. "You had a strong sense of self-preservation and you saved yourself. That's always preferable to winding up dead."

They sat in silence for a moment, until Willow spoke up, "Sabrina, why don't you go and find the other Potentials, and see if they can bring you up to speed on what's been happening since you've been gone."

"Oh, okay. Sure," Sabrina said rising.

"Tell them I'll be down shortly," Giles said.

"I will," she said, as she walked out.

"Have you talked to Buffy?" Willow asked.

"Not since Wednesday. You?"

"Yesterday. William knows," she said, softly.

Giles nodded, "I knew it was forthcoming. How’s he taking it?"

"Not well, Giles. Not well at all. Buffy said he was destroyed by the news. She sounded pretty destroyed, too."

"Oh dear," Giles said, taking off his glasses to polish them.

"I think today is William's birthday."

Giles shook his head sadly. "I dare say; it won’t be a very happy one."

"No, it won’t," Willow said, "They were supposed to be going to Michigan for vacation, back to the place we were at last year, where they fell in love again, because Buffy wanted it to be special for him.

Giles, you have no idea how pure and innocent he was last year when we got him out of that hospital. I don’t think young William had ever had so much as a kiss, let alone a murderous thought in his head. I wish I could just cast a forgetting spell and make all their pain go away."

Giles shot her a warning glance.

"But I won’t," Willow said, sadly.

He sighed in relief. "I think the best thing we can do right now is to be available to Buffy, if she needs our support."

"What about to William?"

"Of course, to William as well. I don’t envy him his place right now."

Giles got up and went to the window. "That’s odd, I just saw Sabrina crossing the street. I thought she was supposed to go and work out with the other Potentials."

He looked at Willow and frowned.

"What is it, Giles?"

He shook his head, "I don't know, there was just something odd about her today."

Willow nodded, " I know. I don' t know how to say this, Giles, other than Sabrina seems different to me, ever since the night of the attack."

"How so?"

"I don't know, just lots of little things. Like when she talked about being downstairs in the kitchen when we were attacked...she was the one who first told me that she had a bad feeling, a premonition. But whenever we've talked since then, she's never said a thing about that. If I didn't know better, I'd say that she's only mimicking what I’ve said to her about it; as if she wasn’t even there herself."

"Well, that could be from the shock of the experience. You did tell me she was scared to death, and ran off."

"It's not just that. On the way home, I asked her some things about her family, which she had already told me, and she kept changing the subject."

"Well, maybe she just didn’t want to talk about them."

"No, it was more than that. I asked her if she’d heard from her brother lately, and she told me not for a while."

"So?"

"Giles, she’s an only child. We talked about that, since I am, too."

Giles looked at her sharply, "You tricked her, then?"

Willow nodded, "Yeah, and she fell for it. She or whatever she is now."

Giles sighed; "I felt something, too. As soon as she walked in, I just didn’t know what it was. Oh, that and she called me Rupert."

"I noticed."

"You don’t think it’s her, then?"

Willow hesitated, then answered, "No. At first I thought it was just shock, but her aura is wrong, the others noticed it, too. For that reason, we didn’t talk about anything too important when she was around."

Giles nodded, "That was wise. We don’t know what we’re dealing with here but obviously, it has something to do with the attack."

"My guess is that a demon has taken over her body," Willow said.

"A demon who knows my name is Rupert?"

"Good point. What or who do you think it is, then?"

"I don’t know, but I intend to find out. In the meantime, why don’t you see if you can figure out if Sabrina is actually dead, or her essence is still recoverable."

"I’m on it," Willow said.

"Good. Now, onto the business of Angel and Wolfram & Hart."

Willow nodded, "Wolfram & Hart are run by higher beings called the Senior Partners. Althanea contacted them as soon as we became aware that Angel was behind the attacks. They assured her that they knew nothing of his intentions."

"I rather suspected as much," Giles said. "Still, they have every reason to lie to you, to save their own skins."

"I don’t think that they are."

"Why?" Giles asked

"Um... ," Willow began, looking a bit sheepish, "I believe that I may have spoken out of turn, when I warned Angel that the coven would destroy him and Wolfram & Hart, should try to go after William or Buffy..."

"Willow!"

"Turned out the Senior Partners of Wolfram & Hart are gods, sort of like Glory was."

"Oh dear lord! What do they want, then?"

"Just to go on as before. The Coven's path and that of Wolfram & Hart's don't usually intersect. Althanea told me that over the years they've learned to ignore each other rather nicely. They're working out a plan to deal with Angel, which all parties can live with.

Giles snorted, "I can’t believe that I’m hearing this. The Coven, going along with evil..."

"They're not going along with it at all, Giles, they just don’t have the resources to destroy gods. Their position is that they can’t do any good in this world, if they no longer exist in it at all. They consider themselves, we consider ourselves, a part of the other side of the pendulum of good and evil. We can’t rid the whole world of it, nor can they ever be rid of us. We’re all a part of the balance. You know that, better than anyone. And Giles, you know first hand how hard it was to go up against a god of Glory's strength; this is more than one god."

Giles nodded tersely. "But what about future threats to Buffy and William then? They, rather Angel, obviously had the resources to thwart the protection spell, and even though you assure me that the latest one is even stronger, I don’t doubt that Angel will still try to..."

"He won’t be able to."

"Why not?"

"That's been a part of the negotiations between the coven and the Senior Partners. Althanea wanted me to reassure you that the coven does wield a lot of power, and although we can’t destroy them, we can do a lot of damage to Wolfram & Hart’s interests and clients around the world. Believe me, Angel will no longer be in any position to hurt William or Buffy."

"What are Wolfram & Hart going to do?" Giles asked.

"They’re turning him over to the coven."

"And what is the coven planning to do?"

"They’re removing his power."

Giles scoffed, "That’s it then? They’re removing him from power, and that’s supposed to make me feel better? If Wolfram & Hart weren’t behind the attacks, then as I suspected, Angel had sources of his own. What’s to stop him from using those again?"

"Giles, I said the coven was removing his power, not only removing him from power."

"How so?"

"I’m not exactly clear on that. I’ll have to ask Althanea, but I’m sure it will be quite effective."

"And what of William? What are Wolfram & Hart’s intentions towards him? After all, it was their amulet that wound up being given to him to wear by Buffy, rather than Angel."

"That was accidental, because Buffy wanted Spike by her side, not Angel."

"Or providential," Giles said.

"Either way, it’s also a part of the negotiations. The Senior Partners said they have no use now or in the future for a Victorian Poet, even if he was a former bad-ass vampire, as they put it."

Giles eyes widened in surprise, "Poet?"

"Um-hmm," Willow said, grinning.

"Good Lord!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The late afternoon sun was shining into the office as Giles closed his briefcase, and rose from his chair. He closed the office door and was locking it, when he heard the phone ringing.

"Oh blast it all," he swore, hurrying back in. "Giles here."

"Giles, Wes here, I have some news to tell you about Ethan."

He listened intently as Wes told him that Ethan’s body had been discovered in a park near downtown.

"Are you’re 100% sure?"

"I personally went down to the morgue and identified him from pictures. I took the liberty to send one to you, if you’d like to identify him yourself."

"When did you send it? Did you send it overnight?"

On the other end, Wes sighed, "Giles, its there now. Look in your email."

"Oh, yes. Quite. Hold on a minute," he said, logging on. He saw the email and opened it, downloading the pictures. There it was - the face of his old nemesis, looking quite peaceable. He took off his glasses and looked closer. He’d swear there was a smirk on Ethan’s face. Knowing him, there probably was.

Giles picked back up the phone; "It’s him."

"I thought so. Oh, and to let you know, there was a Wolfram & Hart card found in his pocket."

"How do you know?"

"I told them I was family and they released his belongings to me."

"Was there anything else?"

"No, just the card. Oh, and a pocket watch; I’d say quite old and probably valuable. One more thing, there were marks on his wrists, as though he’d been bound. It looks like Wolfram & Hart used him in some way, then killed him as soon as they had what they wanted. I wonder what that was."

"I think I know," Giles said, and proceeded to fill Wes in on what he knew of recent events.

"So, Wolfram & Hart broke Ethan out of jail, then used him to break down the protection barrier so that Dru could attack Spike and Buffy? Why would they do that?"

"It appears more likely that Angel acted on his own. He lost the Shanshu to Spike, and Buffy."

"I can’t believe he’d go to such lengths..."

"You didn’t know him when he was Angelus."

"You think he’s Angelus now?"

"I don’t know, but he’s obviously been corrupted in some manner. I can’t believe that Angel would do this to Buffy either, although I don’t profess to know the deep feelings of hatred he must have had for Spike. All I know is that there was a lot of animosity on both ends. I just attributed it to their long history, almost a familial contempt."

"I see. Do you want me to speak to Angel?"

"No, don’t approach him at all. I believe the coven is taking steps to rectify this."

"I see. Is there anything else I can do on this end?"

"Are they releasing the body to you?"

"Yes, tomorrow I believe."

"Have it cremated, not buried."

"Why, if I may ask?"

"I don’t quite know, but I just think it would be...more permanent. I just can’t see that Rayne let himself be killed quite so easily."

"You think he would be trying to come back? Because I can assure you, that was a very post-mortem body I was looking at...still, stranger things have happened in our world, haven’t they?"

Giles laughed a small, joyless laugh.

"Not to worry, I’ll have his body cremated, straight away. You’ll let me know if I can be of any more assistance?"

"I will, thank you. Oh, one more thing. What did the coroner rule Rayne’s cause of death as?

"They said it was inconclusive, but that more than likely it was a heart attack."

"Thank you." Giles hung up the phone and stared off into space, something in the back of his head nagging at him. Sighing, he got up, and once more locked up for the day.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

FLASHBACK 3 DAYS BEFORE

LOS ANGELES

PENTHOUSE OF WOLFRAM & HART

AUGUST 12, 2009

TUESDAY

8:30AM

"What is it?" Angel picking up the phone.

"It’s the driver, he’s back," answered a guard who’d been stationed in the garage all night.

"Is anyone with him?"

"Negative."

"I’ll be right down," Angel answered, his face going dark.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Where is he?"

"Over there," said the guard, pointing to the small office, in the corner of garage.

Angel swung the office door open, surprising the driver, who spilled his hot coffee all over himself and the table he was sharing with a couple of the other drivers.

"Out!" Angel yelled to the other two.

Looking at their comrade with sympathy, they hurried out.

Angel closed the door, "What happened?"

"We arrived around 7:30 last night, the one who calls herself Dru and the other two got out to walk the rest of the way up the road. A little after 8:00pm a car with a blonde woman in it, sped up the drive. That was it, until almost 6:30am this morning, when another car carrying a man and a woman arrived. I’m sorry, nobody ever came out."

"Did anyone see you?"

"I don’t think so, I was up the road and off to the side, but I could get a clear look at who was coming and going, using the magnified video mirror."

"So you just left then?"

"Yes, but not until morning. Well past the time they were expected back."

Angel nodded. "That will be all."

The driver sighed in relief.

Angel turned back around, "Did she leave anything behind in the car?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, any personal belongings; I’d like to have them, if she did."

"No there was nothing. I checked the backseat before I put the car away, like I always do."

"What about the floor?"

"I don’t think so."

"Well, it’s really important to me, how about we go over there and you check again."

The driver was about to argue, but then he saw Angel’s eyes and just nodded.

They walked silently over to the limousine and the driver opened the back door, "See there’s nothing on the floor...wait, what are you doing?" he asked, as he was pushed into the back seat, the door slamming after him.

Angel didn’t heed the pounding on the windows or the frantic cries of the driver as he walked away. "Why? What did I do? I did as I was asked? Pleeeease!"

"You know what to do," Angel said to the guard as he walked past him, on his way to his private elevator.

The guard nodded, emotionless.

The elevator door opened and Angel got on, pushing the button to take him back up to his penthouse.

The guard looked over at the limousine then pushed the button on the remote, setting the backseat aflame.

He put on the special protective ear covering, used by airport workers, and Wolfram & Hart employees.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

LOS ANGELES

OFFICES OF WOLFRAM & HART

AUGUST 15, 2009

9:00AM

"What do you want?" Angel asked as Lilah walked into his office.

"It’s not what I want, it’s what the Senior Partners want, lover."

Angel looked up from his desk, "What would that be?"

"They’re requesting your presence in The White Room. Actually, both of ours."

"Great, just what I needed. What’s this about?"

"I’m not sure."

"And if I don’t agree to their request?"

"It’s not a request, it’s a summons."

Angel had a funny feeling looking at Lilah, "Is there something you’re not telling me?"

She shook her head; "I don’t know anything more than you do. I just got this memo, requesting our presence in the White Room this morning."

Angel took his time tidying up his desk, before rising from his seat, "Very well, lets go. Wouldn’t want to keep the Senior Partners waiting now would we?"

The elevator door opened up to a bright, blinding light, and the ferocious howling of otherworldly winds. Angel squinted and looked down, his foot testing the solidity of the ground through the swirling mist. Satisfied, he stepped off the elevator. Lilah followed.

"Well, what now?" he asked, his voice straining to be heard through the maelstrom.

"We wait," Lilah yelled back.

A few moments later the winds and mist disappeared, as shafts of bright yellow, blue, and purple lights appeared from above. As they descended, they became corporeal, the colors became the robes and inside them, the mystical Senior Partners.

Angel’s expression gave no indication of surprise, whereas Lilah’s eyes were wide.

"And so finally we meet," Angel said.

"Yes, we meet," said the purple robed Senior Partner, regarding Angel with narrowed eyes.

"It’s an honor..." Lilah began.

"Silence!" said the yellow Senior Partner. "Your job is finished here, be gone!"

Before she could question or protest, Lilah disappeared into a million bits of inky black mist, quickly swirling to the top of the room’s ceiling, then disappearing.

Angel stood alone now.

"What is it you want?" Angel asked, his false bravado quickly fading.

"You have failed us, vampire. You have taken it upon yourself to use the power of your position to go against The Champion."

Angel sputtered, "Who? What are you talking about?"

"I believe you know very well who we’re talking about."

"You can’t mean...? Oh, this is rich..."

The blue robed Senior Partner stepped forward, "It’s precisely who we mean. Not only that, you used Wolfram, & Hart’s resources to free a prisoner, then had him summon demons against our allies at the United Coven of Bath."

"Allies?"

"Not exactly allies, but we have an understanding with them that reaches back eons older than you; we are but a piece of the puzzle, they another. Although we don’t work the same way, our goals at times have not been in conflict."

Angel shook his head; "I don’t believe this."

Just then the air began to shimmer and much like their own appearance, a fourth figure materialized.

"Althanea," said the purple robed figure to her respectfully, "you always did like to make a grand entrance."

"You should talk, Gordon," she said, grinning bemusedly at him.

Gordon? Angel looked over at him, questioningly.

"A family name...but enough about me. Althanea, I turn the proceedings over to you."

"Proceedings? These are proceedings now?" Angel asked, irritation evident in his voice.

"Indeed they are, Angel, "Althanea answered. She held out her hand, and a small scroll appeared. She unrolled it; "By The Highest Order of the United Coven of Bath, granted us by The Powers That Be, we hereby strip you of all of your enhanced vampire strength, sight, speed, and hearing for an indeterminate amount of time. We take you with us now, back to your homeland, where you can live out your days, and hopefully find a way to once more become a useful member of the world."

Angel tried to say something, but as the last of her words fell from her lips, a binding spell surrounded Angel, rendering any words or physical movements impossible.

Althanea turned to the Senior Partners, "I believe this concludes the coven’s business with you for now."

Gordon reluctantly nodded, "Yes, so it does. He turned towards Angel, "It’s really too bad you know, we had high hopes for you. Oh well."

Althanea looked around at each of the Senior Partners, "Two things before we take our leave of you. "First a warning; you are to have nothing to do with William Worthington, formerly known as Spike, and William the Bloody, or anybody he knows or is acquainted with. The same applies to the former Chosen One, Buffy Summers, known now as Elizabeth Worthington. Secondly, you are truly despicable; taking a vampire with a soul, who’s been good for many years, and corrupting him. You, and this ‘corporation of the damned,’ is what turned him back into a monster."

Gordon smiled at her, "You call it corruption, I say we merely exploited a weakness that was already. Besides, corrupting power is what runs the world, Althanea. You should know that."

"As well I do, but that doesn’t make it, or all of you, any less despicable."

"Coming from you, we’ll take that as high praise."

"Good-bye, Gordon. Consider yourself warned," she said, and with a small wave of her hand, both her and Angel disappeared in a flash of bright yellow light.

"Too bad," sighed the blue robed figure, "I had such high hopes for him."

The yellow robe figure shrugged, "An acceptable casualty of doing business. It could’ve been much worse."

They all nodded vigorously.

Gordon smiled suddenly, "I hear there’s a formerly, very powerful domestic goddess by the name of Martha something-or-other, who might be needing a new position."

"Excellent idea," said the yellow robed figure, as the three Senior Partners exited the white room, in the same manner in which they had appeared.

END CHAPTER 150

JULIAN

AUGUST 15, 2009

8:00AM

Buffy rolled over in her sleep, unconsciously reaching out to what was now the empty half of their bed. She opened her eyes to see her hand fingering the spot where William should be.

Not hearing his snore, she got up to look for him. She found him sitting on the back porch, a cup of tea in his hands.

"Morning," she said.

"Morning."

"You been up long?"

"About 20 minutes."

"How's your hand?"

"Throbbing a bit, but not too bad."

"Well, you can take another anti-inflammatory after you eat something, okay?"

"Not really hungry."

"You still have to eat something."

Buffy went back into the kitchen and started some coffee for herself, then using bagels, made eggs in a hole for them.

"Breakfast," she called, as she poured orange juice.

A few minutes later, William came in and took his seat.

"Coffee?"

"I have tea."

"I think it may have gotten cold by now," Buffy said, looking at the still full cup he was holding.

William shrugged, "Alright."

Buffy took his lukewarm tea away, replacing it with a hot cup of coffee.

They ate in silence, punctuated only by the birds singing outside.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After breakfast, William had once more gone out to the porch. A few moments later, she heard a curt, "Be outside," followed by the door opening and closing.

Buffy hurriedly cleaned up the kitchen, then followed him. She found him sitting on a lounger, staring straight ahead. At least until he noticed she was there, then he closed his eyes.

"Hey," she said, as she sat down next to him.

He nodded his head slightly, to acknowledge her presence.

She was painfully aware that today was William’s birthday. What good (or harm) it would do to bring it up, she didn’t know. To say ‘Happy Birthday,’ under the circumstances, would almost be to mock the reality he now found himself in; they found themselves in.

She tried to remember how wonderful last year had been. Not quite two months since she’d first seen him, and a little more than a month since they’d been back home together, she’d taken him for the day to San Juan Capistrano. Clem and Dawn had been waiting for them back at the house, with decorations, presents, and a cake. William had almost been overwhelmed; saying nobody had ever done that for him before.

Not this year, this year there would be no surprise day trips, no cake, no decorations, no presents, no joy; no celebration of any kind.

She swallowed hard, she wouldn’t cry again. Not now, not today, not if she could help it.

Just get through the next hour, the next minute. Don’t think about last year or next year. Just get through the next moment.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They sat there in silence until a broom, which had been leaning against the house, fell over. William startled at the sound, his eyes flying open, and his body coming halfway out of his seat.

"It’s was just the wind," Buffy said, touching his arm to reassure him.

He pulled away from her. "I thought it was...never mind."

"I don’t think Clem is going to be around for a while," Buffy said, "he went to see some...friends of his in San Diego for a few days."

"Do his other friends know that he’s...or are they...? What the hell is he?" William asked, facing Buffy.

Buffy took a deep breath, "Clem is a demon, but he’s a good demon. And yes, some of his friends are demons, too."

"A good demon? Isn’t that an oxymoron? Like a good vampire?"

Buffy got up off her chair, and faced him. "You listen to me, William Worthington, Clem is a good demon. And yes, Spike became a good vampire. What’s more important, is that Spike returned to being a good man, the man he was inside; you."

William ran his uninjured hand through his hair, as he shook his head, pacing in front of her. "I can’t buy that! The very term demon means something of the devil, does it not? Something ungodly?"

"I don’t care what the term means. Man made up that term for things he couldn’t understand, creatures he couldn’t fathom..."

"And here I thought it was God that gave names to unholy things that were from hell," he said, glaring at her.

"Oh William," Buffy said, sighing, "it’s not that simple."

"Simple?" he repeated, pacing to the house and back, "Are you telling me you don’t believe in God or the Devil? Heaven or Hell?" he asked, not sure at this point himself, but goading her none-the-less.

"I don’t know. God...I think so; Heaven - been there, done that, so I know that’s real. Didn’t meet God, though, so can’t say for sure."

He stopped pacing to stare at her, shocked, "You were in...Heaven?"

"I think so...when I died, before Willow, Xander, Anya, and Tara did the spell that brought me back. It felt...warm and safe, like I was finished..." she looked at him and he was staring at her, his eyes moist and wide.

Buffy struggled to get a hold of her own emotions. "Well, I guess I wasn’t quite finished, because here I am, right? As for Hell or the Devil...it just seems too simple; there are many demons, some good, and a lot, lot more that aren’t. There’s not just a Hell, but many different hell dimensions. Having been The Slayer for all those years, I’ve had a lot of experience in those areas, so I think you can trust me on this one, William."

He reached out for the patio table to steady himself, "How can I believe what you’re telling me; that there are good demons? That Clem...is one?"

"Because I wouldn’t lie to you, that’s why."

William looked at her, and snorted, "No?"

Her face flamed and she swallowed back the sting of his remark. "Not about this, and that’s not what I...you know I didn’t lie to you to hurt you. You’ve got to know that! I just wanted to...protect you from this very thing; the things that are so hard to understand."

"And because I was one of those things?"

She looked him in the eye, "Yes, once. Not for a long, long time, though William."

He didn’t answer her, as they stood looking at each other. Finally, he looked away.

"There are good and bad people in the world, aren’t there?" Buffy asked.

He nodded.

"Well, I think it’s the same with demons."

"It can’t be that simple! It can’t!"

"It’s not, I don’t mean to tell you that it is; it’s not simple at all. And I think it’s much harder to be a good demon, because demons don’t have souls. At least, I don’t think they do. Maybe some do, or something like it; something that lets some of them be good. All I know is that it’s not as black and white as I once thought; there’s a lot of gray. There was you, who changed, there’s Clem, who you’ve known for almost 70 years..."

"Seventy years?" William asked, shaking his head. It was incongruous to him every time he tried to put a number to such things: one hundred twenty years, seventy years, fifty years...

"How did I...we become... friends?" William asked, afraid to hear the answer.

"He was human once, and you saved him."

"Saved him? From what?" William asked, looking surprised, "I thought I was supposed to ‘eat’ humans."

"I don’t know why you chose to save him, only that you did. He was being attacked by demons - his kind of demons, and for some reason, you fought them off. Guess you just told him to get out of there afterwards."

"Where?"

"San Francisco, I think you told me. Anyway, because Clem had already been bitten, he started turning into a demon."

"Demons can ‘turn’ humans into other demons?"

"Not all, just a few can. Anyway, after Clem changed, he ran into you on the wharves. He said he was a mess, scared by what was happening to him. At first, you tried to kill him," she said, then looked over guiltily at him, "because he looked like the other demons by then. After he told you who he was, you gave him some advice, and since he didn’t have any other friends, he sort of followed you up here. He helped you build this house, and his."

"The house...why did I want to build a house? And here? Do vampires usually build...? Oh God!" William said, suddenly reeling towards the back door.

Buffy ran after him, "What is it? What’s wrong?"

William was at the kitchen sink, trying to turn on the water. He managed, just as she was reaching to help. Buffy grabbed a glass and held it for him. He took a long drink.

"The land this house is built on, it belonged to Henry, my brother, didn’t it?"

Her eyes widened in understanding, "Yes," she said softly.

Buffy took a deep breath before continuing, "After you...killed him, you said that you’d taken his valuables, but didn’t give much consideration to anything, except what you could use right away."

"Immediate gratification, I suppose," William said.

Buffy nodded, "Part and parcel of being a vampire."

"So, what happened?"

"Then you got curious about the acres of land your brother bought that you now held the deed for. I think you said, that around the turn of the century you found a vampire who had once been a lawyer; he helped get the deed put into your name. After you, along with Drusilla, Angel, and Darla came to the states and eventually California, you decided to come up to Julian to look around."

"Angel? Isn’t that’s who Drusilla...? The one who wanted me killed?" William asked, a mixture of fear and anger in his voice.

Buffy nodded slowly, "Yes, that’s the one."

"Who is he? To me...to Spike, that is?"

"Angelus, as Angel went by in those days, was sired by Darla. He sired Drusilla, who then sired you. That makes him, rather made him, your grand sire." Buffy said, carefully assessing his reaction, as this latest information sank in.

"In 1880?"

"No, Darla was sired by the Master back in the 1600’s, Angel was sired by Darla in the 1700’s, Dru was sired by Angel...I’m not sure when, early 1800’s maybe. William, why don’t we leave that for later, while I tell you more about the house."

He looked at her, and nodded, "Yeah. Alright. So, I came up here with the little vampire family..."

"No, you came by yourself. The other three were busy ingratiating themselves into the Hollywood scene, when you came up here. You had about 1000 acres that had never been mined for gold, so you sold off about 900 of them to turn them into cash, but you told me that you felt something for the land here, and kept 100 acres for yourself."

"So then I decided to build a house?"

"Not right away. I think you just liked to have somewhere to come to, without the others; something of your own. At first, you just found a cave to stay in. I don’t think you had any intentions of building a house."

"Just a place to stay out of the sun during the day?"

"Something like that."

"Do vampires sleep in coffins?" he asked with a shudder.

Buffy shook her head, remembering how frightened he’d been in the hospital when they’d had to crawl into the morgue cart to make their escape. "No, vampires can live anywhere, in any manner. As long as they stay out of the sun, which is a good reason to sleep during the day, makes avoiding getting all toasty a lot easier. As for where vampires live, or how - you name it, they can manage it, it seems. From squalor to grandeur, caves to castles. I got the impression that the four of you lived in quite lovely houses, after you’d..." Buffy stopped suddenly, realizing what she was about to say.

"Killed the people who lived there?" William finished for her, flinching from his own words.

She nodded, "Yes. I’m sorry."

"Why? You didn’t kill them, I did, right?" William said harshly.

"No, I didn’t. But I’m still sorry I have to be telling you things you’d rather not hear William; things that I wish with all my heart, I never had to tell you."

They stood staring at each other for a minute. Although they were only a couple of feet from each other, the gulf had never seemed so wide. Buffy bit down on her lip to stop herself from reaching out across the divide to him; sure his rigid figure wouldn’t accept her embrace, or her comfort.

"Go on," he said.

"You sure?"

"Go on," he repeated.

Buffy nodded, "So, one of the times you’re up here you went into town that night. You said that you heard a fight and for some reason, went to investigate. It was Edna’s husband Wallace, being attacked by an irate customer who had been kicked out earlier for being fresh with Edna. You intervened, kicked the guy’s ass, and saved Wallace."

"William sat down on the couch, his head in his hands, "Edna...she knows?"

"No, she doesn’t. Not really."

"But I’ve known her all those years...she thinks I was my father and grandfather? That’s why she was always talking about them, and that’s why it didn’t make a lick of sense to me! Because my grandfather was never in American, nor was my father. I knew it!" he said, almost smiling.

"Yes, that’s how you were able to have a relationship with her over the years, by disappearing for years at a time, then letting her know somehow that one of them had passed, waiting a few more years, or twenty...however many, before the next ‘William’ would show up. William the son, then you - son of the son," she said, with a small unintentional laugh.

William shot a glance her way, and Buffy shrugged apologetically.

He looked at her, waiting for her to continue, so she did. "For some reason, you responded to them in a way you hadn’t responded to humans since being turned. Lawrence knew you by name, that you owned the land; through his friend, the investor, who had first told him and Edna about Julian. He asked you where you were staying and you told him that you were pitching a tent while you were up there. He suggested you build yourself a house on some of the property that you own, and gave you the names of contractors, telling you that he’d help you. For some reason, it appealed to you - to have a place of your own."

"A place of my own," William repeated, nodding.

"So with Lawrence’s help, he sets up the contractors and the house starts getting built. You have given him the discretion to use the money for this, and you head back to join the gang."

"I thought you said Clem helped build the house," he asked, a confused look on his face.

"He did. I’m getting to that. You don’t get back here for a couple of years. When you do, you realize that nothing has been done on the house, past what had been started while you were still here. You’re furious thinking that Lawrence has stolen or squandered your money. You go off to find him, but find that restaurant is boarded up, and the hotel they owned next door to it, has a foreclosure sign in front of it. You bang on the door, and a bedraggled woman, holding a small child answers it. You demand to know what’s happened to Lawrence and Edna, then realize that the woman standing there is Edna."

William nodded, "I know the rest of the story; Edna told me it last winter when I was helping her at the restaurant, before Valentine’s Day," he said, then looked guiltily over at Buffy.

"I remember," she replied softly looking at him, then down at the ring she wore. "It was so," she looked up at him with tears in her eyes, "perfect."

"Dont!" he said, his voice sounding harsh in the quiet of the room. Her cheeks reddened at his reprimand. He watched, as if in slow motion, a lone tear rolled down Elizabeth’s face, hung silently, then dropped to the floor. William swallowed hard, ashamed that he’d hurt her. His heart ached to take her in his arms, and make it all go away; her pain and his, but his head overruled, and he remained frozen to his spot.

Still, he wasn’t a monster; "Elizabeth, I’m..."

She shook her head, "Don’t," she said, repeating his word. She swiped angrily at her eyes, as she willed herself to stay in the now as they weathered this new reality.

"You know about Lawrence being killed?" she asked, finally.

"Yes, and how my grandfa...I helped Edna afterwards...after Lawrence had been killed by someone staying at their hotel," he said shaking his head sadly. "All that time, she hadn’t spent my money, even when she didn’t know if I was ever coming back or not, because she just couldn’t do that."

"Not just someone, but a certain someone who wanted to leave you a message."

"Leave me a message? Why? Who?" William asked, his voice filled with dread.

"Angel."

"Angel? How? Why did he...? I thought you said I’d always come up here by myself."

"I think he found out somehow where you’d gone during your absences. You thought it might have just been something innocent you’d written on a piece of paper. In any case, you were up in San Francisco with Dru and Darla, when he came here. I think he was jealous that you had done something independent; without his permission, so he killed Lawrence knowing you’d find out about it someday."

"Why would he think that I cared about Lawrence, about any..." he looked at her.

"Humans?"

William nodded, "Yes, humans."

"I don’t know if he thought you cared about them, as much as that you had some sort of relationship with them, more likely he thought you were using them for something. I think the point for him, was that it was outside of his realm of influence, and being the pack leader, he couldn’t abide that. So he killed Lawrence, to leave you a message. At least that’s what Spike...you told me a long time ago."

"Bastard," he said softly, "and so I’m the reason that Edna lost her husband? No wonder my...I helped her out," he said, miserably, "I felt guilty."

"Yes, you did. And don’t you realize how unusual that is?"

He looked up at her, confused. "Why wouldn’t I? I’m the one, whether intentional or otherwise, brought Angel to her doorstep."

"William, you’re thinking like a man. That’s the point - Spike was a vampire, and by all intents and purposes, vampires don’t feel guilt over humans dying. They don’t care! Not only didn’t you kill Edna and Lawrence Jr., but you paid off their debtors, supported them, even paid for Lawrence to go to college, for cripe’s sake!"

"But if I hadn’t ever come here, Lawrence wouldn’t have been killed."

"That’s true, but if you hadn’t come then maybe you wouldn’t have had a place to come to where you could still remember what it was like to be a man for a while."

"She doesn’t know?"

"Edna? No, not exactly. But I don’t think that she was without suspicion all those years. After all, you never saw her anytime other than at night, and you obviously were the spitting image of your ‘grandfather,’ and ‘father,’ except for the clothes. The things that she’s said to me...well, I just think that maybe she knows more than she’s letting on, in her own way. Still, she loves you William. No matter what she knows or doesn’t know, she’s always considered you a friend. More than a friend, she’s considered you family."

It was William’s turn for his eyes to water, "Some family, eh?"

"You’ve were good to her, William, even when you were Spike. I don’t know the reasons you had, just that something inside you, responding to her like the man that you had been, the man that you are. Maybe because she treated you like a man, and you didn’t want to break that faith she had."

He didn’t respond, just shook his head.

"After that...you discovered that Clem had followed you up here, and he had a little more experience in house building and things, so you let him stay on and help you. Eventually you guys did all this; the houses, the roads, the gates, the landscaping."

"How long did I live here?"

"You didn’t really. You’d only come up here occasionally. I asked you once how much time you’d spent here and you said only about a month’s worth in all the years you owned it."

"Seems like a waste, doesn’t it?"

"You told me that you couldn’t just live here like a normal man. The demon wouldn’t let you, it needed more expression, than living here could provide."

"It wanted to kill and to fight," William said, tonelessly, looking at her.

Buffy nodded. "Yes."

"And Clem, did he stay?"

"I think he stayed more than you, but he couldn’t just stay here all the time either. Probably got a bit lonely, I should think. He’s pretty social, as you know."

"Social demon," William mumbled, getting up and walking over to the window. The sun was up higher in the sky now, as the morning wore on.

He could feel Elizabeth looking at him, waiting for...what? For him to suddenly be alright with all that he’d learned? For them to go back to their so-called normal life?

Let her look, he thought sulkily. He felt smothered by her concern suddenly.

And tired; so tired of all of it.

He turned and headed for the bedroom, "I’m laying down," he said, curtly.

"Oh...okay. Do you need anything?"

"No," he told her, shutting the door firmly.

Buffy stood in the living room, looking at the closed bedroom door, and never felt so alone.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

1:30PM

William awoke, groaning when he inadvertently stretched and hit his injured hand on the headboard. He looked over to Elizabeth’s side of the bed, half expecting her to be there beside him, but she wasn’t.

No wonder, the way he’d been avoiding her, he thought.

He rose, used the restroom, then wandered out into the living room. It was empty, except for a note he found on the couch.

It read:

He looked at the clock, next to the remaining pot - the one from Mesa Verde, which had avoided his wrath the other day - and noted that she was running late.

He looked out the window, to make sure that her car wasn’t there. It wasn’t. Wandered to the kitchen, William started boiling a kettle of water, then scrounged around looking for something he could fix for himself with one hand, to eat. He settled on a bag of chips he found in the pantry. He opened them with his teeth, half of the chips spilling out onto the table, the other half onto the floor. Petulantly, he left them there, with a bit of mean-spirited satisfaction when he imagined Elizabeth seeing them there.

‘Serves her right,’ he thought, ‘leaving me here all injured to take care of myself.’

Guilt followed on the heels of that thought, ‘Ponce!’ he said, berating himself.

Somehow, he managed to make himself a cup of tea, without any breakage or major spillage. The small spill he did have, he cleaned up.

He glanced at the clock on the stove, again. It read 2:00pm.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Buffy had mindlessly puttered around for almost an hour, after William had gone to lay down, until finally, tired of wrestling with her own mental demons; she had to get out of the house.

She made a quick list of some things they could use, then wrote him a note to let him know where she went and when she’d be back.

Not that she figured he cared that much.

She got into the car and drove down the road, feeling almost guilty for the sense of relief it gave her to get away from the house, and him. It had been only 3 days since the attack, but it seemed much longer, as time had come to a sort of standstill.

When she got to the main road, she hesitated. If she went into town, she’d run the risk of being seen by Mrs. Carpello, Edna, or the other teachers, who thought she was away. That would lead to questions she didn’t want to answer; lies she didn’t want to have to make up on the spot. Better to go shopping in San Marcos, where she was a lot less likely to run into anyone that she knew. She turned the car the opposite way, and headed towards the highway.

However, her relief had once more been replaced by depression by the time she got to the San Marcos exit, and she just kept driving until she reached Highway 5. Turning north, she drove the way her and William had come last year for his birthday. From a distance of a couple of miles, she could see the towering walls of the San Juan Capistrano Mission, as she neared it.

After driving past the restaurants they’d eaten at by themselves, then a few months later with Dawn and John, she parked her car.

She wandered around the mission grounds, until she found the garden that her and William had sat in last year, surrounded by pink and red bougainvillea. In her head, the whole way here, she’d kept up a make-believe dialogue with William, as if it were last year, and they were coming here for the first time.

Sitting on the grass, she closed her eyes, and remembered what it felt like to steal kisses among the gardens with him.

"I should take you there sometime. Paris, Southern France, along the Mediterranean Sea," he’d said, picking a red bougainvillea flower and putting it behind her ear.

"That would be wonderful," she’d replied, "think I’m going to hold you to that."

"It’s a deal," he’d said, reaching over to her to seal it with a gentle kiss.

"Oh God!" she moaned. "It’s like you’re already gone William, like when Spike was..."

She stood up suddenly, anger flashing in her eyes, "That son-of-a-bitch! Who the hell does he think he is to ruin my life? William’s life? I’m going to kill him!"

As she walked towards her car, she dialed William’s cell phone number. There was no answer, as she’d suspected. She left a voice mail.

Beep!

"... the time allotted for your message has been met, if you wish to..."

She flipped her phone off, noting the time as she did. Just enough time, if she hurried.

Opening the trunk, she took out something that she’d kept hidden underneath her emergency kit.

She brought it up to the front seat with her, started the car, and got back on Highway 5, heading north. Destination: Los Angeles.

END CHAPTER 151

JULIAN

AUGUST 15, 2009

FRIDAY

3:00pm

William wandered aimlessly around the house. He found his phone under some paper on the counter, and tried to turn it on, but it wasn’t charged. He spent another 10 minutes locating the charger, which he finally recalled, had been packed for their trip to Michigan. He plugged it in, and put the phone in, remembering to turn it on as it charged, in case she called.

He wandered off to the living room, turned on the television, surfed through the channels for about a minute, before turning it off. Just as he did, he heard the phone ringing, and hurried to get it. He managed to hold his wrist against the charger, in order to lift the phone out of it.

"Hello?"

"Hello, this is a courtesy call from Verizon. Are you getting the best rates you can? If not, consider changing your phone service. Not only does Verizon have the best rates for local and long distance..."

"Shit!" William said, managing to slam the phone off. He opened it again, and managed to get it back into the cradle.

He’d banged his hand in the process, and now it throbbed again. He was about to get some Ibuprofen, when he remembered the anti-inflammatory that John had left. He found the bottle in the bedroom, and tried to open it. Five minutes later, he gave up, and went back to his original choice, only that bottle seemed not to want to open either.

Finally, he found a hammer in the bottom drawer, and broke the original bottle. Not satisfied, he struck the second bottle as well. He picked through the broken plastic and broken pills to find a good one, which he swallowed. Then, took one more for good measure.

He cleaned up as best he could, then went back to the bedroom, taking the phone and charger with him, and plugging it in next to the bed. He lay back down, feeling alone and defeated by everything.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Buffy stopped at a gas station outside of Los Angeles to pick up a map and look in the telephone book.

Forty minutes later, she turned west on Alameda Avenue, driving down the street slowly, until she came to 1900 block. Of course, she only had to see the huge stone sign in front of the building, vainly displaying for all the world to see the name of Evil, Inc. Incarnate; Wolfram & Hart.

Buffy drove around until she found a parking lot on the next block. She put on a jacket she had in the backseat, and put Mr. Pointy 2.0 in the back of her waistband, before walking the two blocks to the rear of the building.

To the left of the center door was a downward sloping driveway, leading to a loading dock. She walked up the half dozen steps to the entryway, and tried the handle of the door. It was locked naturally.

"Who is it?" asked a voice.

"Delivery," she answered.

Suddenly a vampire, a mere fledgling, sporting a security badge flung open the door.

"Hey, you’re not..." he began, looking at her empty hands, and lack of delivery attire.

Without thinking, she grabbed the vampire, and pulled him out onto the landing. With one hand, she grabbed her stake, holding it up against his back, with the other; she pushed him over towards the edge, towards the sun.

"Jesus lady! What the hell are you? What do you want?" he asked, terrified; as the front of his pants were already beginning to smolder.

"I’m the freakin’ Slayer, you idiot! Ever hear of me?"

"I heard of slayers..."

"Well, I was The Slayer, before the others, and if you don’t want to be a big ‘ole pile o’ dust, you’ll do exactly what tell you to."

"Okay, okay," said the vamp hurriedly. He had just begun to work there last week, and wasn’t at all willing to die in the line of duty.

She yanked him around, until he faced her.

"I want you to get me in to see Angel."

The vampire looked at her blankly. "Who?"

"The C.E.O. of the company, you nit!"

"Oh, him; Mr. Angel? I don’t think I can..."

Buffy yanked him again, so that now half of his body was hanging precariously off the landing.

"Okay, okay," he screamed, "just pull me back!"

"That’s better," she said, slamming him against the wall.

"Now," Buffy began, "I want you to think very carefully about how you’re going to answer this. How can you get me up to Angel’s office?"

The vampire thought about it for a minute, before remembering the elevator in the garage, which went up to the penthouse suite and office. He motioned for Buffy to follow him. He opened up the door, and led her through a labyrinth of hallways; each secured by a locked door, only accessible by keycard.

Finally, the vampire led Buffy into the garage, and tried the elevator. It didn’t open.

"I don’t think this keycard is going to work on this," he began.

"Then I’m just going to have to open it myself," she said. Mustering slayer strength she didn’t know she still had, she gave the paneled doors a vicious kick.

"That’s better," she said, as it slid open. She grabbed the vampire, and pulled him inside. There were two buttons besides the garage. One said Penthouse, the other 10^{th floor. She pressed the 10th floor.}

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Upstairs, beyond the White Room, the Senior Partners stared at the monitors, which had detected Buffy from the moment she had walked onto Wolfram & Hart’s property.

"Who is that?" asked the blue robed one.

"I believe that would be Miss Summers, the former Slayer," answered Gordon.

"The one who Angel...?" asked the yellow robed one.

Gordon nodded.

"What are we going to do?"

"I guess we’re going to talk to her."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The door to the elevator opened, facing the large, rounded reception desk.

"May I help you?" asked a woman.

"Angel. Where is he?" Buffy asked, glaring at her.

"I’m sorry, he’s not here," the secretary answered. She eyed the young, intense woman nervously. Nobody, except her boss, and security-cleared employees or guests used that elevator, and she always had the list of who to expect. She pressed a silent alarm under her desk. A moment later, two guards appeared; each from opposite sides.

Out of the periphery of her vision, Buffy saw them flanking her. She charged for the door of the inner office. The secretary tried to block her way, but Buffy easily knocked her out of the way, by swinging the hostage-vampire into her. They both collapsed onto the floor.

Quickly, she dispatched the guards. The first, taking a swing at her with a Billy club like device. She grabbed it from him, tossing it away. She heard the crunch of bone, as she kicked him in the knee, as hard as she could, collapsing him where he stood.

"Stop," yelled the second guard, aiming his gun at her. Buffy kicked it out of his hands, followed by one to the head, before he got a shot off. He went down, as well.

Buffy kicked open the door of the office, fully expecting to see Angel waiting to greet her. She stood still, catching her breath, and looked around at the empty office.

"Come out you bastard," she yelled, frustrated. "Show yourself!"

Just then, she heard the door close behind her, and whirled around, stake at the ready. She watched, as three robed figures materialized before her.

"I’m afraid he’s not here Miss Summers, you’re too late," said Gordon.

"Who the hell are you, and how do you know who I am?" she asked the purple robed figure that had addressed her.

"I’m sorry, how rude of me. I’m Gordon, this is Estaban, he said, pointing to the blue clad figure, "and this is Antomias. We’re the Senior Partners; we run Wolfram & Hart."

"Doesn’t mean anything to me," she said, putting her hands on her hips. "I’ve no argument with you, my dealings are with Angel, and what do you mean I’m too late?"

"I’m afraid he’s indefinitely indisposed," said Gordon.

She shook her head; "I don’t believe you!"

"I’m very sorry Miss Summers, but I assure you it’s true. Or is it Miss Worthington? Mrs. Worthington? Or do you gals prefer the ambiguous Ms. these days?

"How do you...?"

"Surely you know that we’re the ones responsible for the amulet, brought to you by Angel to fight The First, and consequently worn by William the Bloody? And the prophecy that allowed him to come back as a human?"

Buffy paled, her throat suddenly gone dry.

"Why don’t you sit down," Gordon suggested.

"I don’t want to sit, I want to see Angel."

"I don’t want to sit, I want to see Angel."

"That's quite impossible, as Angel is gone."

"Gone? Where is he?"

"He’s been taken back to Ireland by the coven, to live out his days, or rather nights far from you, and us. Far away from your paramour, William."

"The coven? What coven?" she asked, although she already knew the answer.

"Why the one that your friend Willow Rosenberg belongs to, of course."

"Why? How...?"

"The coven and Wolfram & Hart go way back, Ms. Worthington, we've...let's just say we came to an understanding years ago, and though we may not go about things in the same manner, our interests haven't always, shall we say, been incompatible. We were quite disheartened to hear that Angel had not only attacked you and William, but our 'friends' at the coven, as well, and so we came to an agreement."

"Meaning what exactly?"

"That in exchange for us relinquishing him to them, they agree to the status quo of our prior agreement."

Buffy shook her head, not believing what she was hearing. "And Angel?"

"Your Angel has had all his enhanced vampiric powers removed, and of course, his corporate ones as well, for breaching his contract, and going outside of our sanctioned means. He’ll no longer be a threat to anyone."

"When...when did they take him?"

"Just today, this morning in fact; you just missed him."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Buffy walked out of Wolfram & Hart, this time via the front exit.

Nobody stopped her, or looked at her one way or the other.

It had started to pour while she had been inside. For most Southern California residents, it was a welcome relief, coming on the heels of two weeks of an early season of Santa Ana winds.

Buffy wasn’t thinking about that, as she walked back to her car, getting soaked in the process. The rain only served to accentuate her failure of being able to confront Angel herself. Circumstances beyond her control had worked to deny her, her pound of flesh. There would be no satisfying retribution, no slayer justice; Angel had been allowed to live, in what manner of speaking that ‘living’ would mean she had no idea. But she had no doubt that her life, as she’d known it over the past 5 years, and particularly the last year; the wondrous year of having found out that William was alive, of being in love again, anew, was over.

Sopping wet and defeated, Buffy got into her car, and turned it back towards the highway.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

JULIAN

4:30PM

William awoke with a start to the sounds of thunder and lightning. The light he’d left on in the bathroom flickered and went out, and the house became still of the normal hum of electrical things that they took for granted.

He looked over at the charger; the light was out on that, as well. He picked up the phone, hoping it had been charging long enough. It turned on, but out of the possible four bars showing how much power his phone had, it only showed one. He looked down and saw that he had missed a phone call. He * 86’d it and put in his code - the numbers in Elizabeth’s birthday 0121, and listened for the message.

"William, this is Elizabeth. I know I said I’d be coming home..." was all he heard, before the phone died.

William stared at the phone, as his stomach clenched, sickeningly.

"What have I done? Elizabeth... oh God no...please..."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

5:00PM

Numb, Buffy drove slowly, peering through the sheets of rain pounding on her windshiled. She never had considered herself anything more than an adequate driver in the first place, and the rain, and rush-hour Los Angeles traffic was using up her last reserves.

Suddenly, she felt the sickening bumpety-bump-bump of a blown tire. She was in the middle lane of a 5 lane highway, and had to get over two lanes to the shoulder on a bum tire, which took her almost 2 minutes to accomplish. In that two minutes, she was honked at, cursed at, and given the universal sign for screw you from at least 3 passing cars.

Pulling over on the narrow shoulder, she put on her hazard lights, and turned off the car. She felt around underneath the back seat until she came to her umbrella, then got out of the car. Immediately, the wind whipped the umbrella inside out, making it useless. She fought with it trying to right it, so she could at least put it back into the car, but it wouldn’t give, succeeding only in pinching her fingers in between the spokes. Giving up, she tossed it over the side into the grass, and hoped the wind didn’t catch it and fling it into some hapless motorists’ windshield. Soaking wet now, she opened up the trunk and moved all the stuff that was in there to the back seat. Finally, she got the cover up, and looked at the spare. It was partially flat. Next, she looked around for her jack, but after about 2 minutes of frantic searching of her trunk, and backseat, she remembered that she’d lent it to Clem.

Defeated, she slammed the trunk, and went to get back into the car. She had just opened the front door, when a semi-truck barreled by, soaking her from head to toe with dirty water, and also managing to get the front seat wet. Shocked, she slammed the door shut. Buffy started to laugh hysterically, until her laughter turned to great, heaving sobs, as she gave in to all the sorrow that had brought her to this moment.

Finally, she stopped. She checked inside her purse and found her phone, and an emergency AAA card, which Hank had given her, when he’d given her the car.

After getting a busy signal for more than 10 minutes, she finally spoke to someone, who said that they would send someone as soon as possible, but that it might be a couple of hours.

Next, she called home; hoping that William had his cell phone on. The voice mail picked up.

Buffy pressed 2.

"William, it’s almost 6pm. I’m stranded right now with a flat tire on the highway. Help is coming, but not for a while. I’m not sure when I’ll be home. I’m sorry I’ve been away all day. I didn’t intend to... really...I just. I’ll tell you about it when I get home. I love you. I love you so..."

Buffy pressed 1, then leaned back against the seat and waited.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

JULIAN

8:00PM

Hours passed, and with each one, William felt more miserable, dejected, and terrified. With each sound of the tree limbs outside shaking, cracking, or things on the patio being blown about, he imagined it was another vampire, come to finish the job, or worse.

"Come back, I need you!" he cried out, his voice echoing in the empty house. The crack of thunder was his only answer, as he slumped down against the wall.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

9:30PM

The rain was just starting to let up, as Buffy pulled up in front of the darkened cabin. The lights were out, as they’d also seemed to be all over town, but somehow it seemed to be all the darker and lonelier out here. She could feel it coming from the house like waves, like something alive, this sense of loneliness.

Buffy hurried inside. "William?" she called out in the dark.

There was no answer.

She lit a candle in the kitchen, and brought it with her. The first place she checked was the bedroom, next the bathroom, then the adjoining door to the spare bedroom.

"William!" she called again, panic beginning to rise up inside her. Would he have gone out on a night like this? His car was still there so where would he have gone?

She was just about to head out to the barn, when something made her look towards the far wall. William sat huddled in the corner, about 5 feet away from their computer desk. His arms were wrapped around his knees, and he was staring straight ahead.

"William," she said, hurrying over to him. She knelt down, setting the candle on the floor. "What’s the matter? Are you hurt?"

"William?" she said, reaching out and touching him lightly on the shoulder. He didn’t respond to her touch.

"You left, you went away," he said, tonelessly.

"I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to go for so long, I just..."

Lightening suddenly lit up the room, and he looked up at her, as if seeing her for the first time since she’d been there. Her face had streaks of dirt on it, as did her clothes, and her hair was matted and tangled.

His eyes widened in recognition, then in concern as he took her in. He lifted his right hand, and gently touched her face, his thumb wiping at a smudge of dirt on her cheek.

She made a small sound, and flung herself into his arms, crying on his shoulder.

"I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry," she repeated again and again.

Automatically, his other arm came up around her back, and he held her tight to his chest, shuddering in relief. "Shhh, it’s okay, luv," he shushed into her hair.

They clung to each other for a long time, until finally she pulled back, "When did the power go off?"

"I don’t know. A few hours ago, I think."

Are you hungry?"

He nodded.

"How about if I make us some sandwiches?"

"Okay," he said.

She stood up, and put out her hand to him, he took it, and allowed her to pull him to his feet. She smiled at him, and still holding onto his hand, led him into the kitchen.

She lit a few more candles, and went about finding something to make sandwiches with. There were only a couple of slices of bread left, since she’d never made it to the store. She made him a sandwich out of the remaining two, using the heels for her own. She found a jar of applesauce in one of the cupboards, and put some into two bowls.

"What happened?" she asked, pointing to the chips on the floor.

"Couldn’t get it opened with one hand. I’ll clean it..."

"It’s okay. Nevermind."

"Had to break the bottles of ibuprofen and the one from John, too."

"Oh," she said, guiltily.

They ate their sandwiches wordlessly, each stealing glances at each other between bites.

"I’ll clean up some, you should get out of those wet clothes."

She looked down at herself; she had forgotten what a mess she was. She shuddered involuntarily. "I guess I should. I think I’ll take a shower; hope the hot water is still....but you don’t have to do anything out here. It was only sandwiches, and the bowls can wait until tomorrow."

"Alright."

"Will you...?"

"What?" he asked.

"Come and wait for me? In the bedroom?"

He nodded, looking into her eyes.

"Thank you," she said softly.

END CHAPTER 152

Never had a shower felt so good, as this one had. Not even when she’d washed off demon muck and vampire dust, on a nightly basis.

When she was finished, she put on her warm, flannel nightgown; then came into the bedroom. William was sitting on the bed; he looked up at her, his heart fluttered in his chest at the sight of her and other parts stirred, as well. Then just as quickly, he remembered it all; the reasons that had brought them to this point, and he looked down, ashamed.

Buffy had seen the look of desire in his eyes, and had started towards him, then just as quickly had seen them extinguished. She stopped in her tracks, waiting.

"I just need to...use the bathroom," William said softly.

"Okay," Buffy answered, stepping aside, as he went in.

She crawled into bed, wondering if he was going to stay in the bedroom with her at all.

She heard him come out, then hesitate as he neared the bed. A small, quiet, shuddering sigh escaped his lips, as he crawled under the covers. He turned to face her, searching her eyes for something, as he hesitantly put his arm around her.

Buffy put her hand up to his face, brushing back some of the hair from his forehead. His nose was nearly touching hers, and his lips were only about 2" from hers. If only one of them just moved slightly...

He did.

"William," she moaned into his mouth, as they kissed hungrily, their tongues vying for dominance. Her arm went around his neck, pulling him in closer to her.

"You okay?" she asked, as he winced.

He nodded, "Just my leg, it’s okay now," he said, as he pulled up her nightgown. She helped him, pulling it off, over her head. His hand found her breast, as did his mouth. She moaned in pleasure, even as tears ran down her face.

"Touch me," he commanded her.

She reached down, and freed him from his pajama bottoms. She stroked him with her hand, then kissed down his stomach, until she gently took him into her mouth. He pulled her back up, shaking his head. He kissed her again, and she took hold of him, guiding him into her.

They looked at each other, almost in shock, as much as pleasure, at the moment of full penetration.

"Elizabeth," he said, closing his eyes, giving himself over to desire.

"Love you...love you William," Buffy gasped, as his hands pulled her hips down to meet his almost desperate thrusts.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Where did you go?" he asked softly, afterwards, as they lay in each other’s arms. He was rubbing her back lightly with his injured hand, making shivers run up and down her spine.

"I’m right here," she answered.

"No. Earlier."

"Oh..."

She told him how she’d planned to just go to the store, but then not wanting to run into anyone, she’d decided to go to San Marcos. Once she’d gotten on the highway, she just kept driving until she got to San Juan Capistrano.

"I...it was...it was your birthday today, and I couldn’t do anything to make it better for you...I was so...sad. Not just for you, but for me, too. I just...wound up there, talked to the ghosts of our past, but that only made me unhappier; like you weren’t here anymore...like when you’d died."

She hugged him tighter, as tears spilled out at the memories of loss she’d felt.

"Shhh, it’s okay," he said, holding her to him. He kissed the top of her head, closing his eyes, as he inhaled the scent of her shampoo.

She took a deep breath; "Then I went to L.A., with the intent to kill Angel."

William stiffened, and let go of her. He looked at her, and she nodded.

"Are you mad? You could’ve been hurt yourself, killed! You know what he’s capable of...?"

"Yes, and do you know what a brassed off slayer is capable of?"

He shook his head.

"Actually, you do, but..."

He harrumphed; "Guess I would, eh?"

"A long time ago, William. I’m sorry, I..." she put her hand up to his face, but he pulled back.

"What happened?"

"I was too late," she said, and told him what the Senior Partners had told her about what had happened to Angel.

He was quiet for a while afterwards. Finally he looked at her, "What was he to you? Angel? Were you and he...?"

Buffy bit her lower lip, then looked him in the eyes, "Yes. He was my first, though afterwards..." she shook her head.

"Afterwards?"

"He lost his soul after we...after we did it. He didn’t go looking to get his soul back like Spike; like you did. His was a curse, done to him by Gypsies whose family or daughter he had killed. He was cursed to carry the weight of all he had done when he was soulless, as Angelus. As the curse went, he would lose his soul again, if he had one true moment of happiness..."

"And you were it? You were his one true moment of happiness?" William asked, looking intently at her.

"I guess so," she said, softly. "Afterwards, he tried to kill me. First though, he tried to terrorize my friends and family. He killed Giles’ girlfriend, and he nearly destroyed the world, by bringing forth Acathla, who would suck the world into it’s...long story, let’s just say he nearly did. During that time, you and I had fought, and you had gotten hurt pretty badly; an organ had fallen on you."

William flinched.

"I’m sorry."

"No," he shook his head, "go on."

"You were in a wheelchair, but you faked it longer than you had to, and you came to me. You wanted to stop him, too."

"Because he was going to end the world?"

Buffy nodded, "Yes, you told me that you liked the world, and some other things. You just wanted to be able to take Dru and get out of Sunnydale. That was the first time we made a deal to fight on the same side, more or less. You even managed to talk Angel out of killing Giles."

"I see. Anyway, I take it he didn’t succeed; in ending the world that is."

"No, and I killed him. Willow had found the curse, and had restored his soul, just as I had to drive a sword through his heart, closing the portal to hell he had opened."

"But how did he...?"

Buffy shrugged, "I’m not exactly sure. Suddenly, he was just back. That, and around Sunnydale, death isn’t always the end. Obviously," she said, pointing to herself, then William.

"Obviously," he acquiesced.

"You loved him," he said after a moment.

"Yes, once. But not like I loved you; like I still love you, William," she said reaching out to him, but he rolled over onto his back.

She sighed, laying back on hers, as well.

"Were there others?"

"Other what, lovers?"

"Yes," he said, his voice strained.

"Does it matter?"

"I don’t know. I mean no. Did you...sleep with other vampires?"

"What do you think, William?" she asked turning to look at him.

"I don’t know what to think, now do I?"

"No," she answered, looking him in the eyes; "my only vampire lovers were you and Angel. Are you satisfied now?" she asked, coolly.

He turned to look at her, raising up on his elbow, and shook his head, "What was the hell was the matter with you?"

Buffy opened her mouth, but nothing came out. She lay back down on her pillow, looking up at the ceiling, as tears came to her eyes.

That was the fifty million-dollar question, now wasn’t it?

END CHAPTER 153

Sorry for the long delay in updates, guys. I appreciate all your feedback. I had a case of writer's block over a certain point in the story, plus the distraction of getting ready for Moonlight Rising to see James and the band. Now, off on a family vacation , where hopefully, I'll have lots of time to write and not be distracted by the Internet...oh, and of course, get to swim at the beach. :)

BTW, due to the fact that I'm leaving, the ch. 152 was only partially beta'd and 153, not at all. Please excuse any errors, I didn't catch.

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