Title: Come To Play
Author: Starla
Email: starla@buffymail.com
Disclaimer: These Characters belong to Joss Whedon, except Gorlock, Alana, Adrian Townsend, and anyone else you don't recognize.
Distribution: Take it, but let me know. If you have any of my other fics, go ahead.
Author's Notes: It *will* be B/A I promise. I realise this part is a little depressing. Sorry. Season 4 did happen, Fish Boy did date Buffy, Angel went to LA, etc.
Spoilers: I dunno. Anything is possible, be warned.
Summary: 150 years after the Scooby Gang die, they return to Earth to help out the current Slayer and her Slayerettes.

Part 2


They stared at each other for a few moments, drifting into their own universe. Angel was vaguely aware of Alana's hand tightening around his arm, but it seemed disconnected from him, faraway. His soul was already on the other side of the room, holding Buffy in his arms, raining kisses over her beautiful face.

But his body was frozen in place.

Spike broke the silence. "Slayer!" He exclaimed, weaving through the bodies blocking the doorway and strolling over to Buffy. "What brings you here?"

"Wait, you know them too?" Lee asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Oh, yeah. Me and the Slayer go way back. Course I spent most of my time kicking her arse..."

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Whatever you say, Sit'n'Spin."

"You just couldn't let me show off in front of my friends, could you?" Spike grumbled.

Buffy shrugged, grinning, before pulling him into a quick hug.

Spike growled good naturedly when she pulled away. "I always knew you had a thing for me." He smirked.

She snorted. "Yeah. It's the Billy Idol look. It drives me wild."

Her eyes drifted back to Angel. "Are you just gonna stand there? Cos we've travelled the Ghost Roads to be here today. The least you could do is say hello."

He remained silent, having lost the ability of speech. She smiled understandingly, and turned to Alana.

"Alana. It's good to finally meet you." She said gently.

"He's not your lover." Alana said, her eyes flashing in defiance. "I don't know who you are, and I don't care. He's mine."

"Geez, Possessive much?" Cordelia exclaimed.

Buffy's eyes clouded over. "Yours. Ok." She shrugged. " I'll keep my hands to myself."

She stepped back, into the supportive semi-circle of her friends. "I'm here on business anyway." Her eyes fell to the floor, and she crossed her arms over her waist. When she looked up again, her eyes were steely.

"Our favourite psychotic Slayer has managed to escape from hell. "

This shocked a response from Angel. "Faith?" He asked quickly, his eyes widening. "Tell me this is some kind of sick joke."

Buffy's eyes floated back to him for a moment, her face softening. "Nice to see you still have a tongue."

"This is deadly serious I'm afraid." Giles said, pacing anxiously. "Faith has returned, along with several demon followers that she released from the pits of hell." He paused, rubbing his forehead. "Some of them are quite disgusting, I'm told."

Angel swallowed, his throat dry. "I remember." He whispered.

Alana's face registered confusion, highly contrasting with Buffy's own guilty expression. "Angel, what are-" She was cut off by Angel's hands coming to rest on her forearms.

"Later." He promised. "I'll explain it all later." He took his hands away, stepping toward his old friends.

"What's the plan?" He asked, his eyes resting on Buffy, pushing away the desire to wrap his arms around her and never let go.

"We take her. This is our battle. Angel, you can play if you really want to, but your friends are to stay out of this." Buffy warned, eyeing Alana.

"Hey! I'm the slayer now, and this is *my* town. You can't tell me what to do." Alana cried, angered.

Buffy set her jaw determinedly. "Wrong. This is *our* town." She said, gesturing to her friends, behind her. "You've just been minding it for us."

"Oh? You're town? Then where have you been? I don't believe I've ever seen you around here before." Kressa said, flicking her red and blonde streaked hair over her shoulders.

"Not for the past 150 years, anyway." Spike muttered. The new Slayerettes all turned to face him. "You didn't know? These guys have been dead for years." He waved a hand as if this were obvious.

They all fell silent. Finally, Buffy spoke. "We've been fending off as many nasties as we could before they could get to you. We've been binding and rebinding holes between the dimensions. We've been practising our skills because we knew that we'd be fighting the big battle." She glanced at Oz. "Show them."

Oz smiled slightly. "Check this out, Angel, it's cool." He held his hand up, balled it into a fist, then flicked his fingers out, as if releasing a handful of ashes into the air. Coarse fur began to grow on his fingers and hands, spreading down his arm quickly. He let it get as far as his elbow before revesrsing the process, his skin becoming smooth and human once again.

Angel raised an eyebrow. "Impressive."

"I told you." Oz smiled.

"Ok, that was strange." Kelly said, raising a hand to her chest. "Are you a werewolf?"

Oz frowned. "Sorta."

"A highly developed, specially trained werewolf." Willow added, stepping forward. "I'm Willow, and this is my boyfriend Oz. The woman you are being highly hostile towards is Buffy, and...." Willow went on to introduce the others, but Angel wasn't listening.

She looked exactly the same.

Every detail.

Her hair, still a bright, shiny blonde colour, hung loose around her shoulders, framing her tiny features. Her eyes were still wide and expressive, flickering through a million emotions a minute; Mischief, concentration, anxiousness, bravery, anger, jealousy....

Jealousy.

Alana.

A flash of guilt ran through him. He was with another woman.

A woman he cared about, and didn't want to see hurt. He didn't want Alana to suffer.

Besides. How long would Buffy be here? If it was a long term thing, he knew he'd never be able to stay away from her. Never be strong enough to resist those wide green eyes and soft pink lips.

Hell, he was surprised he'd made it this far.

Buffy stared right back at him, fighting her own internal battle.

Jealousy and understanding raged inside her, each emotion begging for her to let it dominate.

She'd known about Alana. Had seen him with her. Had seen him touch her. Had seen him kiss her.

She often spent hours watching Angel.

But it was one thing seeing the scenes in a floating light orb, and quite another when the person was a solid, real being who was glaring at her with a fiery intensity that Buffy admired.

That was the most annoying thing about this situation. She *liked* Alana. What she'd seen of her anyway. She was a good, sweet, strong person, and Buffy didn't want to hurt her.

And that meant staying away from Angel.

But staring into his chocolate eyes, she wasn't sure she'd be able to do that.

"I hate my life." She whispered under her breath, and she knew Angel heard her from the sympathetic half-smile he sent her.

< Oh, god.... > Her mind raced, with all the memories, overloading her senses. She put a hand out, steadying herself against the table.

Apparently not steadied enough, because she blacked out seconds later.




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