Legal Stuff: 'Buffy the Vampire Slayer' concept, logo & characters are (tm) & (c) Twentieth Century Fox Film Corporation, basically belonging to them, Joss Whedon, and Mutant Enemy (Rrrr...Aargh...). They were created by Joss Whedon. "I'll Stand By You" belongs to the Pretenders, and I thought it very much appropriate for the situation (but I did cut out a little bit...I blame the cover band...you'll see what I mean...). 'There Can Be Only One' is an otherwise original work that is (c) Fox Lee 1999, AKA Shade. I'm responsible for the MacFarlanes/Demonslayers and Magret, so that would make them (c) me, too. Any similarity between events/characters in this story and in real life (yeah, that happened to me and my vampire boyfriend just the other day!) is purely coincidental and unintended (so deal with it). Also, special thanks to those who helped me out via the Bronze posting board, particularly '7'.

Synopsis: Buffy Summers, Vampire Slayer, is looking forward to spending her summer vacation as peacefully as possible. But it isn't long before a mysterious new girl, tied strongly to Angel's barbaric past, appears in Sunnydale, posing a danger to both the Slayer and her boyfriend. As the 'Demonslayer' seeks to fulfill her age-old destiny and Angel copes with more painful memories of his past, Spike takes advantage of the situation with a sinister plot that may well prove disastrous for them all...

Timespan: I was just going to say that this takes place after Angel returns from Hell (which hasn't happened yet in Australia). Of course, then I saw 'Becoming' part 1, realized that the references to a still-living Kendra would now make absolutely no sense, and got royally pissed off. Plus, it's got to fit in during Buffy's summer vacation. So what say we just stick it in an alternate universe where Angel never went evil again, hey?

Author's note: I've had to take a few liberties with Angel and his demon, since I don't know Joss' vampire lore in its entirety. If I've directly gone against an established vampire trait, please let me know so I can fix it up. And another thing; I live in Australia, so my colloquialisms/slang/whateva may sound odd. Not my fault. And, relating to Cordy's holiday, hardly anybody in Australia actually uses the word 'g'day'. It's just used far too often on postcards. And koalas actually aren't a very common sight, particularly in cities. E-mail: Compliment me, criticize me, yell at me, insult me...heck, I don't care. The place to send it all is cyberslayerfox@yahoo.com. If that doesn't work properly (it ain't my fault) try fox_lee@hotmail.com. Gimmicky Promo Stuff: Keep an eye out for my first 'Buffy' fanfic,

There Can Be Only One


I

"It's official; everybody hates Buffy Summers."

Rupert Giles, librarian, Watcher, trainer and mentor, looked disdainfully up at his 17-year-old protégé as she threw her arms up in an exaggerated gesture that he guessed (it was badly over-acted) was supposed to represent hanging herself.

"What sort of demonic conspiracy have you uncovered this time, Buffy?" Giles inquired. In answer, the deceivingly delicate-looking, blonde-haired teenager slammed a brightly-printed pamphlet down on his desk. Warily, Giles picked it up and read from the cover. "'Wilderness Adventure Camp - the only way to spend the summer'."

"Forget that happy little Hellmouth thing," Buffy snorted. "Who needs it when I've got dear Principle Snyder to continually thwart my obviously childish and irresponsible teenage behavior - the above including mainly vampire vanquishing and world-saveage?"

"Maybe it isn't too late to nip this in the proverbial bud," Giles suggested. "We could convince - "

"No such luck," Buffy cut in. "Snyder already talked it over with Mom. And doesn't she just loooove the idea of me 'having serious fun, making new friends, and gaining hands-on experience for life'. And I can't back out. I owe her a favor after Willow and I kind of set the kitchen on fire."

"I'm sorry?" Giles raised an eyebrow. "Hey, making fried ice cream is harder than it looks, okay? It makes Slaying seem like a cakewalk." Buffy sighed and slumped into a chair, a dispirited yet quite attractive heap. "This is going to be disastrous." "I don't see that it'll be all that bad for you, Buff," Xander Harris, one of Buffy's closest friends, put in from his perch atop the checkout counter. "I mean, it's the rest of Sunnydale that's going to be up to our armpits in vampiric activity while you do that 'swinging over the mud pit on a rope' thing."

Before Giles could interrupt, thereby once again demonstrating his impatience with all things even mildly humorous (and all things Xander), the library's doors swung open. Willow Rosenberg, the straight-arrow friend of Xander and the Slayer, made her entrance in an unusually sunny sort of mood. "Hiya, Buff! Hi Giles! Hey Xander!" "What're you so happy about?" Buffy raised an eyebrow. "You won't believe it," Willow grinned.

"Try me," Buffy responded flatly. "At the moment, I'll believe just about anything."

"You'll never guess who's going to spend the entire summer vacation hundreds of miles away!"

"You're joking. Not - "

"Hi, everybody," Cordelia Chase, both ice and fashion queen of Sunnydale, chirped, prancing in. "Guess who's going to spend the entire summer vacation in Paris? Ooh - Paris! Think of the clothes! Think of the men! Think of the shopping opportunities!"

"Think of the frogs' legs," Xander grimaced. The teen was more than a little downcast to hear that his girlfriend was leaving, but his ego wouldn't have been able to cope if he'd let it show.

Cordelia made a face. "Spare me your cynicism, you commoner. The style of Paris is completely beyond your ability to comprehend."

"Did I just hear a word of four syllables leave the mouth of Cordelia Chase?" Xander dramatically grabbed his chest in a mock-heart attack. "Be still my heart! Better check your books, Giles, 'coz I think the apocalypse is upon us!"

"Why do I surround myself by the kind of people who would joke about the end of the universe?" Giles rolled his eyes.

"Job perk," Xander quipped. Upon realizing he had been ignored (again), he turned to the others, serious again. "I'm gonna take it that neither of you ladies has heard the good news?" "Oh?" Willow raised an eyebrow quizzically. "Oh, it's nothing, really," Buffy replied, displaying the offending brochure. "It's just that for you guys, it's three days 'til summer vacation. For me, it's three days 'til camp hell-hole." "They're not..." Willow stammered. "...I mean, they wouldn't..." "Oh, but they would. And they are." "But they can't send you away!" Cordelia protested. "You're the Slayer!"

"Oh, that's a brilliant strategy, Cordy," Xander nodded patronizingly. "We'll just tell that to Snyder, and he'll be happy to let Buffy stay. Of course, he'll probably have us all committed, but at least we'll still be in Sunnydale..."

"Xander, please," Giles interrupted. "We must at least be serious about this."

"Right," Buffy put in. "I'm pretty sure the vamps will be." "So what's the best way to get you out of this?" Xander mused. "We could break both your legs and put you in a cast...'cept that might seriously affect the 'Slayer' thing, too...ooh, what if we infect you with some kind of disease?..."
"Xander." "Fine, just a suggestion." "Ooh!" Cordelia's hand shot up. "Ooh! I have an idea!" "Goody."

Ignoring Xander's snide remark, the girl continued. "You could run away." "Cordelia, I'm not going to..." "Actually," Giles cut in, thoughtfully stroking his chin with one hand, "you know, that might just work...with a little moderation, of course." "Say what?!"

"No, hang on, I see where he's coming from," Xander grinned. "Buff, you agree to go along with everything. You're a happy little camper. Your mom is told that Giles happens to be a camp counselor, so he offers to drive you there. But meanwhile, at school, we slap on a few bandages and ever-so-sadly inform Principal Snyder that you've unfortunately sprained...uh, something...and are unable to attend."

"From there," Giles put in, "You simply find a place where you can lay low whilst still carrying out your duties." "Like Angel's place?" Buffy's eyes lit up. "I believe that would be suitable." "So it's settled, then?" Xander looked around the room for confirmation. "Anybody who's got a problem, speak now or forever hold your peace." Silence.

"Perfect," Xander beamed. "Sunnydale gets to keep its Slayer, the Buffster gets her alibi. What could possibly go wrong?" II "Hang a right up ahead," Angel instructed. "You'd think, when you consider how long you vamps have been around, that you'd find a better way to get from 'point A' to 'point B' than the sewer subway here," the Slayer commented as she made the turn, feeling a decidedly intense dislike for the rather unpleasant trip she had to make for her weekly check-in.

"Don't blame me," Angel shrugged. "It isn't my fault that vampires have such... sensitive...skin." "Which way?" Buffy asked as they reached a three-way-intersection. Buffy thought as a rather offensive looking clump of God-knew-what floated past her foot, After all, if it hadn't been for her Watcher's insistence that she check in at the library every Monday before sundown, she and Angel would still have been curled up together discussing life, immortality, and how they were going to go have an all-night party at The Bronze when Buffy 'got home'.

"Huh?' Apparently, Angel's concentration had been wandering. Probably to the Queen-size beanbag that they'd had to vacate when they'd suddenly realized it was time to leave. "Oh. Straight ahead, Buff. Then right again."

It was Monday afternoon, beginning the second week of the summer vacation. All in all, the plan to keep Buffy in Sunnydale had been fairly effective. According to the reports of Willow, Xander, and Giles, nobody suspected anything. However, in the back of her mind, she still found herself wondering when instead of if something would go wrong. It was all working out too well. The only real problems they had encountered were Buffy's reluctance to check in each afternoon and the vampire's repetitive memory lapses when it came to food shopping. After all, Buffy had pointed out, while a healthy balance of whole blood and plasma might be fine for some people, seventeen-year-old girls had 'other' tastes. And, to top it all off, vampiric and otherwise supernatural activity around Sunnydale had been fairly close to zilch. "That's the door, up there," Angel indicated, pointing to a metal ladder that trailed up the wall to a round, hinged cover. Nodding, Buffy climbed up and pushed, only to find the door slammed back down from above before it had opened more than an inch. "What gives?" Angel inquired from the base of the ladder.

Buffy shrugged, then called, "Hey, guys, What's goin' on up there?" "Shhh!" Willow's voice reached them as a low whisper. "Just hold on for a second!" At that moment, above ground, Buffy's best friend was hurriedly dragging a large rug into place over the manhole-style entrance they had placed behind the library stacks for Angel's convenience. She succeeded in doing so the second Principal Snyder turned the corner and advanced.

"Exactly what are you doing here, Miss Rosenberg?" Snyder inquired, raising an eyebrow suspiciously. "And what was that noise?" "Uh...I was just getting some books, Sir...uh...for...Summer School, Sir," Willow replied, a little too hastily. "...Mr. Giles said it was okay...and I just, uh, dropped some of them...I'm sort of clumsy today, Sir...late night... studying, of course..." "I don't see any dropped books, Miss Rosenberg," Snyder said accusingly.

"Well, gee, Sir, I guess I must've picked them up, then," Willow concluded. "What do you know?" "Well...I suppose so..." Still slightly suspicious but unable to wrap his brain around Willow's logic as fast as she had come up with it, Snyder turned to leave, and the girl bent down to move the rug. "You're a bright girl, Rosenberg," Principal Snyder suddenly said, turning back just as Willow snapped back into a standing position and appeared absorbed in a book she had hurriedly ripped from the shelf (ironically enough, Count Dracula). "It's a shame to see you socializing with a troublemaker like Buffy Summers. Mark my words, I can see her pulling you down."

"Oh...uh...I wouldn't worry about it, Sir," Willow said, a little louder than usual in order to cover up the infuriated noises she heard coming from the tunnels below. "I really only hang around her for... well...comic relief. You know how it can be..." Just go already, she thought impatiently. "Oh, she's gonna get it for that one," Buffy muttered. Angel grinned. "Hhm...I suppose," Snyder turned away again, and, for safety, Willow waited a little longer this time before she bent down. "One last thing," the Principal spun back to find Willow ever-so-innocently inspecting some call numbers. "If you see Mr. Giles anywhere, tell him I'd like to see him. Couldn't find him anywhere. That will be all, thankyou, Miss Rosenberg." Briskly, Sunnydale High's Principal exited the library. Breathing an obvious sigh of relief, Willow pulled away the rug and hauled open the round door.

"Sorry, Buff. You know how Snyder gets." "I do? I thought I was just 'comic relief'..." "Oh come on. You don't really think I meant it, do you?" "Weeell..." "You'd say anything to get Snyder off your back, too," Willow pointed out. "I guess." "Enough with the deliberations already," Willow grabbed her friend's hand and motioned for her and Angel to follow. "Giles says he has something 'interesting' to tell us...if only we can find him..." "Follow me," Buffy grinned, assuming lead. "I think I know where he is."

Sure enough, when Buffy entered Giles' office and bent down to look under the desk, she found her Watcher. "They still teaching the 'duck-and-cover' method, Giles?" "A grown man," Angel shook his head in mock-sorrow. "It's disgraceful." "Vampires, demons, ghouls, - all these are but a trifle," Giles scrambled out from his undignified hidey-hole, dusting off his characteristic tweed. "Uh, no offence, Angel. But only a fool doesn't avoid Principal Snyder when he can." "Hey, you don't see me debating it," Buffy conceded. "I can't believe he's here in the holidays," Willow said. "He so needs a hobby." "He's got one," Buffy replied, taking a seat on Giles' desk-cum-shelter. "But during the summer vacation, I'm not around for him to torment. So, Giles. Interesting story. Do tell." "Oh, right. Of course. Let me warn you, this may come as a shock." "Giles, my life consists of juggling a job where I have to battle countless demons and a relationship with an twice-antique vampire. I'm pretty sure I can handle it."

"Yeah, speak up! I'm sure we're all dying to hear the latest adventures of...Librarian-Man! Righter of wrong cataloguing, defender of helpless nerds, and avenger of those inconsiderate people who fold the corner over as a bookmark!" Xander waited a few moments for a reaction to his (as usual) over-dramatized entrance, then feigned disappointment at the room's silence. "What, no standing ovation?" Willow rolled her eyes. "Hello, Xander." "Fine, if that's the way you feel..." "Excuse me," Giles interrupted, "but, ah, story, interesting, may come as shock...remember?" "Fine, fine," Buffy lifted her hands to silence her friends. "Xander, shut up, will you?" When silence had once again been achieved, Giles began his story. "Everybody present knows the location of my apartment, yes?" Nods all round. "Then you just as likely know that it is located only one block from a large park, which is a popular feeding ground for vampires and is quite often included as a part of Buffy's watch. It happens that I was forced to cross this park last night - engine troubles - and was ambushed by several of them. Not a pleasant situation to come back to after a busy day at work, as you well know. Now, I was managing to hold my own against my assailants - "

"The vamps were beatin' the stuffing outta you, huh?" "Please, Buffy, let's not go into detail at the moment." "He got decked," the Slayer whispered to Angel as Giles continued. The librarian glared at her sideways as he caught the remark. "As I was saying, the fight was drawing to a close when I found several of the vampires destroyed by a third party - naturally, I expected it was you, Buffy." "Ever noticed that nothing ever goes the way you expect it to in Sunnydale?" Xander inquired. "Of course, it was not," Giles went on. "It would appear, Buffy, that Sunnydale is currently playing host to a second slaying individual." Buffy raised an eyebrow. "Kendra?" "I could do without that," Angel commented, unconsciously rubbing one of the many spots where he'd been testament to the replacement Slayer's skill. And bad temper. "Another thought that crossed my mind," Giles replied. "But no, it wasn't Kendra. For one, she was white, and she spoke in an entirely different accent - Australian, I think." "She spoke to you?" "Not to me, Willow. She spoke to them." "And said?"

"And said, 'this is the MacFarlanes' revenge'. Nothing more." There was a momentary silence as the room's various occupants processes the information. Buffy was the first to break it. "We should try to find her." "Agreed," Giles affirmed. "She does seem to be on our side, but it's always better to be sure." "Meantime," Willow reasoned, "I run a search or two over the Internet...whose revenge was it again, Giles?" "The MacFarlanes'." "Don't bother." It was Angel. "Say what?" All eyes turned to the vampire. "I said, 'don't bother'," he repeated, turning his face away, something Buffy had come to recognize as a sign of guilt from her boyfriend. "I can tell you anything that the Internet can about clan MacFarlane. More." "Like?" A minute after the question, Willow realized it was quite tactless. "Like the looks on their faces when they died." Angel abruptly left the office, rapidly disappearing amongst the stacks. "Great," Xander scowled. "Disappear on us. That'll help. He just couldn't have filled us in first, could he?" Buffy glared at her friend as she sprang from the desk and followed Angel. "Stay here, you guys. I'll talk to him." How very appropriate, Buffy thought as she ran to cut the vampire off at the concealed entrance/exit of the 'Angel-access' tunnel, that the tunnel entrance be located between the' horror' and 'teen romance' sections. It's my life, only in alphabetical order. The Slayer caught up with her boyfriend just as he pulled the manhole-like cover of the door open.

"Angel, don't run from it. It won't help." Sighing, the vampire let the door fall shut, and slumped down onto a stepladder that stood by the shelf. "It does, Buffy. Maybe not in the long run - maybe it won't change anything - but it does help. I just...I don't want to be around you. Whenever something like this comes up, Whenever I have to relive all the suffering that was my fault, it's like I can do anything but look into your eyes. I'm so ashamed." "You punish yourself so much over the past," Buffy gently pointed out, "but you did what you did because of the demon. It's not who you are anymore."

"The demon I chose to harbor," Angel retorted bitterly. "What is it you don't get here, Buffy? I can't just forget it. I made the choice." "A choice between life and death," Buffy responded, adamant. "If it'd been phrased, 'die or become possessed by a bloodthirsty demon', you would've responded differently!" "Stop it!" he jumped to his feet and grabbing her roughly by the shoulders, shocking her as his face suddenly took on its feral, vampiric appearance and his voice was undertoned by a fierce growl. "Stop it! Stop trying to justify my past! I don't! Why do you?" There was a pause. The vampire released his hold, and slumped back down, staring at the floor with his head in his hands. Kneeling in front of him, Buffy took his face in both hands, ignoring the brow ridges and furrows and fangs that were slowly forming back into Angel. She kissed his forehead, gently, and lifted his face to look into his eyes. "Because I love you," she replied simply. Without a word, he grabbed her and hugged fervently. She felt him bury his face in her hair and breathe deeply, not speaking but just holding her with a passion she could plainly feel. She returned it with equal strength, knowing that right now, he needed more than anything to know she felt the same way. And she did. After all the times they had nearly lost each other, all the times that their lives tried to tear them apart, she knew better than anything that she did. "Enough with the 'sweet nothings' already," An irritated Xander promptly shattered the moment from the far end of the row of shelves. "In case you two haven't noticed, we've got clan to learn about." "Yeah, of course," Angel got to his feet, releasing his girlfriend.

"Let's go, Buffy." She stopped him. "This is gonna be hard for you, Angel. There's no rush. If you aren't up to it..." "I'll be fine." He smiled a little, if sadly, and grasped her hand. "I've got the best kind of support." Back in Giles' office a few minutes later, Buffy, Willow, Xander and Giles anxiously awaited Angel's story. "The first time I heard the name MacFarlane was a long, long time ago," the vampire began, his voice strangely low and quiet. "I had been...changed...for less than three years when it began. I had traveled to Scotland with Darla, after a vampire she'd sired had caused some...suspicion...back home in Ireland. It was there that I met the MacFarlane clan."

The fiery-haired, well-built young man urged his cantering horse onward in relentless pursuit of the cloaked rider in front. The woman was not without skill, Liam knew, but she had not the abilities to match his own. Gradually, Liam's gelding caught up with the one in front. Reaching over from his saddle, he snatched the reins, sharply pulling both horses to a halt. "Let me go, Liam," she ordered, hood falling back to reveal thick red hair and a sharply-lined, strikingly attractive face that was effectively a more feminine mirror of his own. "You are going to see him again, are ye not?" the man demanded. "This dog, this Angelus? Can ye not see how bad he is for ye?" "Angelus loves me, and I him," she replied, tossing her wine-colored locks defiantly. "I'll not let ye stand in my way." Liam MacFarlane turned the gelding sharply and blocked his sister's path. "If ye be too blinded by a handsome face to know trouble when ye see it, 'tis a brother's duty to open yer eyes." "'Tis not your choice to make, Liam. Stand aside." "I'll not let ye go!" He grabbed her arm and pulled her face close to his, as if hoping that their family resemblance would hold some sway over his tempestuous sister. "Watch me!" She retorted, twisting with considerable strength. Crying out in surprise, Liam was thrown from the saddle, pulling away with him the cloak his sister had been wearing. Before the young man could react, she had kicked her horse into an all-out gallop, bold red streaming dramatically in the wind as she disappeared down the track. "Caitlin!" he called helplessly, scrambling to his feet. "For God's sakes, flee him! Caitlin!"

"So you turned this Caitlin woman into a vamp," Xander concluded, "and Giles' sword-happy little friend isn't just howling for any old blood. She's after yours. Y'know, some people take these family grudges waaaaay too far." "Then we must find her," Giles stated. "If we organize search parties, we can - " "I don't think we'll have to," Angel interrupted. "I think she'll come to us." "Then there's no real problem," Buffy concluded. "I stick with you for a while, which I would've been doing anyway, and we wait for this mystery MacFarlane girl to show up." "It sounds suspiciously simple," Giles muttered. "So did your plan to get me off of the camp hell-hole list," Buffy pointed out, "but it seems to be working fine." "It's only been a week," Xander reminded her. Then, he turned. "But I reckon they're right, Giles. If she's so intent on finding Angel, why not let her?" "I suppose..." "Giles, relax," Willow put in. "If you're that worried, I can pull some birth records off the Internet, and see if I can find a MacFarlane who can be traced to Caitlin or Liam." "Try the name 'Skye'," Angel suggested. "That was the name of the last MacFarlane I faced." "Meantime," Xander cut in, "Cordy sent us a postcard. Express Air Mail." "Bet she's gonna gloat," Buffy muttered. "I wouldn't be so sure," Xander sorted through his jacket pockets until he turned out a slightly crushed postcard. A postcard that pictured a sunny, ideal-tourist-attraction style beach, and the brightly printed words, 'G'day from Australia'. "Wait a sec," Buffy snatched it from him. "I thought Cordelia was going to France." "Huh. Oh, that's the beauty part, Buffy, - so did she!"

III "Something's wrong," Buffy insisted again as they made their way to Angel's place through the now-darkened Sunnydale back-streets. "I can tell." "Nothing's wrong," Angel retorted. "Will you just drop it already?" "No, I won't! You're too quiet. You're thinking about something." "So sue me." "Angel, why am I getting this odd feeling, somewhere in the pit of my stomach, that there's more to the MacFarlane story than you let on?" "Indigestion?" "Angel." "Look, we've established that dealing with this is hard for me," Angel angrily replied. "So please, just leave it alone! Why can't we change the subject!" "Because you said you were ready," Buffy retorted, echoing his tone. "You need to get this out. All of it. Now." Angel sighed in defeat, knowing that resistance was futile. "I guess you should hear it from me."

Caitlin MacFarlane slowed her horse to a stop near on three miles from the scene of her and her brother's earlier confrontation, dismounted, and frowned to herself. Why couldn't Liam at least try to understand? She and Angelus loved each other. He made her so happy. It was just like her older brother to try to get in the way. She moved over to the post by which she had arranged to meet with her lover, and wondered if he had already been and gone - she was a little late. No, she decided, Angelus would have waited. "You're late." Startled only for a heartbeat, Caitlin ran over to her lover. "Angelus! I pray yer pardon, my love!" "Ye have it in a second, Caitlin," he kissed her, stroking the side of her face with one hand. "I would wait a thousand years for ye." he added in his mind. They embraced for a few moments, then Angelus spoke again. "Yer family does not approve of what we feel. Especially yer brother Liam." "Liam is a fool." With delicate fingers, she toyed with the leather thong lacing up the front of his shirt. "He does not understand love."

Angelus thought. "Angelus, we must..." Caitlin was cut off mid-sentence as she found herself locked in an inhumanly powerful embrace, and looked up into red, gold-tinged eyes set in a feral, monstrous face. Her massive green eyes widened even more with her fear. Terror stole her breath as the man she had loved grinned evilly. "I know what I must do, Caitlin," he said, wrenching her head back to expose the key veins in her neck. "The only question is, what will yer choice be?" So saying, he sank fangs into her flesh, draining away her lifeblood with swift casualty, until he felt her go limp in his arms. Knowing that in moments she would be dead, Angelus posed the inevitable question.

"I can save ye, Caitlin," he said. "I can make ye immortal. We can live forever, young and beautiful together, never growing old. But ye have to agree." "Ye...betrayed me..." she managed to gasp. "Come, now, Caitlin." "I...loved ye...ye betrayed...me..." "Come on, Caitlin. Ye must want eternal life. Just say the word." She said nothing. Angelus was visibly stunned as he felt her last, shuddering breath, watched her close her beautiful, sad eyes. He blinked in surprise, unable to believe it. She'd chosen death over him. She had chosen to die.

"She refused you," Buffy's voice was suddenly very small. "Uh-huh. At least now, you know why I acted like I did in the library. And I know it's no excuse, but it's the truth." "Was she the first one to...?" "...To choose death over me? Yeah. And it's weird, Buffy, 'cause she didn't even know that she wouldn't live forever, that she'd just get a demon kicking around in her body instead. But she still chose to die. That shook me up pretty bad." Buffy bit her lip. "I'm sorry...I didn't know..." "No," he turned his face away from her. "No, you didn't. And I'm not going to hold anything against you for wanting to." "But if I had, I would never have - " "It's okay, Buffy. I know. And God, I love you for it. You don't know how much it means to me." She reached out. "Is it as much as you mean to me?" He looked down at her hand in his. "More." Then, looking up, Angel realized that they were home. "Welcome to 'The House of Angel', Madam," he smiled. "Have you any baggage I can take?" Buffy thought for a moment, then shrugged. "I travel light." "Well then let me show you straight to your room," Angel swung the door open and bowed, motioning for her to enter. "Hmmm..." she glanced around the room as if appraising for the first time. "Quaint."

"Dinner shall be served at six," Angel continued as she took a seat, then looked decidedly crestfallen. "Oh...uh...after a slight delay, during which the manager will hurriedly go for takeout..." "You forgot to buy food again?!" The Slayer rolled her eyes. "Geez, remind me never to ask you to take care of my cat while I'm away!" "You don't have a cat." "That is so not the point here, Angel." Grinning, he sat beside her and kissed her. "Don't try to be angry. You're no good at it." She bit his lip playfully. "You'll see just how good at it I am if I don't get my dinner soon!" "Alright, already. Hey, what do you say to pizza?" "I say, 'don't go easy on the cheese'." "Great," he replied, standing up. "Don't go anywhere, I'll be right back." "Like I'd go anywhere on an empty stomach!" She called as he left.

IV Angel hadn't been gone twenty minutes when Buffy first detected the intruder. For a few moments (about a millisecond), she doubted her suspicions that she was no longer alone, but that didn't stop her sensing movement somewhere outside. Cautiously the Slayer rose, snatching up her crossbow from its place on the coffee table, and moved toward the door, wondering why things always seemed to end in violence. Buffy considered calling out a challenge- she preferred fighting face-to-face - but then remembered odds were that the uninvited guest might only have been after Angel, and not even known that she was present. So the Slayer remained silent, deciding she would utilize the element of surprise. On that note, Buffy reached over to quietly flick off the light, ducked into the shadows that fell conveniently by the door, and waited.

Angel's door was not kicked open or torn from its hinges by Spike's snarling minions, nor was it blown to splinters by evil black magic. Nor was it even dramatically thrown open. In fact, it opened in a depressingly anti-climactic manner. The handle was used, and the door swung gently ajar. "I know you're there," a strangely accented female voice sighed in a rather tired fashion. "Why don't you just come on out here, and make this easy?" Shrugging, Buffy stepped out to face the figure in the alleyway. "Never did like creeping around in shadows much." "Really? I thought it was in your job description." Buffy summed up the girl standing before her. Even without the accent, she didn't need a second guess to gather that she was facing the MacFarlane girl. However, she wasn't terribly impressed by what she saw. Buffy had both height and looks advantage over the girl she faced, who looked a year or so younger with her shorter, stockier build, rounded face set with blue eyes and crop of dark, reddish-brown hair in a loose, messy ponytail. The MacFarlane girl was dressed in khaki army-print pants and a faded yellowish singlet, hanging over the neck of which could be seen a silver cross - not a crucifix, as was the one Buffy wore, but a rounded, Celtic-style pendant on a black leather. Just handle it rationally, Buffy told herself, and don't pick a fight. She's on our side, remember.

However, the Slayer abandoned this plan of action when a strange whistling noise, the sort that might be made by a four-foot length of steel whipping through the air, caused her to throw her arms up to intercept those of her opponent just in time to avoid losing her head to the last MacFarlane's quickly-drawn saber. Taking advantage of Buffy's surprise, the girl drove her knee into the Slayer's chest, doubling her over, then kicked the crossbow from her hand. "Hey!" Buffy protested, instinctively falling into fighting stance. "No fair! How am I supposed to explain that you've got the wrong idea when you're really, really asking for it?!" "The wrong idea?" The MacFarlane asked impatiently, aiming an easily ducked kick at Buffy's head. "You think so?" "I know so," Buffy responded, jumping the following sweeping kick. "And if you'll just stop trying to beat my brains out for a second, I'll clue you in." "Clue this," her opponent retorted, sounding a trifle bored and spinning to deliver a swift sidekick to the Slayer's stomach. "That's it!" Buffy exploded, abandoning all notions of trying to talk it over. "I'd don't care how misinformed you are - that's just downright rude!"

With a well-timed kick, Buffy evened the odds by sending her opponent's sword spinning away from her hand. Clearly angered, the MacFarlane girl struck out, only to be intercepted by the Slayer, swiftly flipped over, and sent flying. She hit the floor hard enough to make even Buffy wince, but she was back on her feet in the space of a heartbeat and aiming a snap kick at Buffy's head. The Slayer ducked, avoiding the kick but instead catching the low punch that followed. The Slayer stumbled back and tripped as the MacFarlane followed up with an elbow across the face, but was not without her wits as she fell. Grabbing the front of her opponent's shirt, the Slayer flipped the girl over with her feet as she went down, then rolled and lunged for her crossbow where it had fallen. The Slayer leapt up to find the point of the MacFarlane's saber against her throat, and the MacFarlane no more impressed to be staring directly at the loaded crossbow. They remained in the position for a few moments, slowly circling as they caught their breath, both refusing to back down. "Can we talk for a minute?" Buffy panted, wiping a small trail of blood from the corner of her mouth. "I said it before - you've got the wrong idea."

"Go for your life," the MacFarlane replied. "But if you so much as move, you're skewered." "The feeling's mutual," Buffy retorted. "Or at least it would be, if I weren't about to do this." Slowly, one hand up in a gesture of truce, the Slayer bent down to drop her crossbow on the floor beside her. Still suspicious, the MacFarlane let her sword arm fall slack. "I'm not who you think I am," Buffy continued. "Yeah? Then who are you?" "Ever hear of a Slayer?" "Yep." Buffy was caught off-guard as the MacFarlane girl sprang back to life, lunging at her. "Hey! What gives! I just told you I'm the Slayer - that's as in good guy, defender of helpless, unsung heroine of downtrodden!" "That's why I want to kill you." A punch across the jaw sent the Slayer stumbling back, and the MacFarlane raised her sword for a killing blow. Buffy's assailant exhaled sharply as a black-clothed, snarling figure crash-tackled her to the ground. The Slayer sighed quietly with a relief she would never have admitted to feeling, and thanked God for Angel. After a few seconds of wrestling, the MacFarlane girl scrambled free.

"So it is you, Angelus," she said. "The sworn enemy of my clan for countless decades." "Actually, they were counted," Angel pointed out. "It's been about eighteen." "My pizza!" Buffy cried, catching sight of the box that had fallen open and the slices that had been scattered over the ground when Angel had hurriedly discarded it. "Even now, you make a mockery of the Demonslayer's sacred destiny," the MacFarlane girl sneered, ignoring the Slayer's devastation. "Forget what you've been told, girl," Angel snarled, moving between her and Buffy, backing her toward the doorway. " Get out. The destiny that was yours exists no longer." "Wrong, Angelus," she sheathed her saber and backed away. "It's just changed a little bit, over the years. The destinies of you and I have been tightly interwoven for almost two centuries. We shall meet again, demon, and one of us will die before we part." "'The Demonslayer's sacred destiny'?" Buffy echoed, watching her leave. "Angel, what else did you leave out of the story?" "Just a couple of minor details." "Minor?" "Okay, major. Look, we can discuss it over dinner...well...as soon as I go get some more..."

"Lewis is the fifth we've lost inside this month, Angelus," Darla's eyebrows arched sharply down as she frowned disapprovingly at the small pile of dust. "I thought ye said ye killed that annoying MacFarlane fellow." "I dealt with him years ago," Angelus replied. "This is not the work of Liam MacFarlane." His lover sighed. "Then whose work is it?" "How should I know?" The male vampire snapped irritably. "Look, I'll handle it. We've literally got forever to find out who's responsible." "I don't feel like waiting forever." It didn't take a genius to figure out what Darla meant by that. With a sigh of defeat, Angelus pulled his coat from the peg it hung on and left the small cottage he and his lover had temporarily holed up in.

Damn Liam MacFarlane, Angelus thought to himself as he walked against the icy highland wind. Damn him and his damn fool sister. Damn them all. After sixteen years, he still couldn't figure it out. He had offered her the gift of eternal life, eternal youth and beauty. Those wild, enticing eyes would never have lost their shine, every inch of her smooth skin would have remained perfect, that flaming hair would have burned forever. She would have possessed a beauty that endured through countless ages. She would have given a new meaning to perfection. How could she have refused him? Castle MacFarlane, the relatively small fortress of his longtime enemy Liam, was picture-perfect, cloaked as it was in darkness by the fast-approaching night and standing boldly against the backdrop of the moon, bright and full. This was Angelus' destination - he had a strange gut feeling that whoever was behind the swift, skillful attacks on his and Darla's kind, he would find them here. For some reason, he couldn't shake the impression that his business with the MacFarlanes was far from over. The young vampire slid through the shadows, silent as the night around him, and up to the castle walls. It was a simple matter, when you were so accustomed to stealth and darkness, to slip past just about anything, and the watchmen around the castle were no exception. Some convenient vines provided easy passage to one of the upper balconies, and soon, Angelus was making his inconspicuous way through the castle's shadowy hallways.

The sound of a woman's voice eventually led him to a small balcony that served as a viewing deck for a large, near-empty room. Keeping low, and thus unnoticed, Angelus listened intently to the words that echoed up to him. "Ye have done well, lass." A woman, Angelus noted. She sounded middle-aged. "I have not yet been able to find him." The reply came from someone younger, yet still female. "Ye shall come up against Angelus soon, lass," the first soothed. "Never shall it be soon enough, Magret," the younger one replied, a note that could only be described as hatred finding its way into her voice. "Never shall it be soon enough." "Caitlin, Caitlin. Ye want so much to avenge your father's death, lass, but I fear for ye. I dinno not want to lose ye as I lost him." "I know, Magret. But I have sworn I would devote my life to destroying Angelus. I cannot rest until it is done. I am the chosen one. I have a destiny. My name alone's testament to that." "Aye, ye are the Demonslayer. But ye are still Caitlin MacFarlane too."

"Even that name binds me to it. Is it not the name of my father's sister, the first the demon took?" "Aye. Yer father's sister..." "And is she not the reason for there to be a chosen one in every generation?" "Aye. There can be only one. And ye are she."

"Wait-wait-wait," Buffy cut in, through a mouthful of the cheeseburger she'd had to settle for when Angel had refused to wait on a replacement pizza. "Are you saying what I think you're saying?" "No," Angel shook his head. "At least, not if you're thinking that Liam's daughter was the first Slayer. Slayers have been around a lot longer than that. But the MacFarlane 'Demonslayers' operated on a very similar principal. Every few years, one would find me, and I would fight her. It went on for decades. They were all good, but none of them could hope to win. I killed them all - as time went by, more and more brutally - until they stopped coming. I heard that the clan had died out. As far as I was concerned, that was that. That was one hundred and thirty three years ago, almost to the day." "So, you think that our visitor is a direct relation to Liam?" She asked, chewing thoughtfully. "She's the Demonslayer. She has to be. I was afraid of that possibility when Giles first mentioned her, but I was hoping for the best." "What, that she was just a friend of the family? I can't believe you didn't tell us earlier! We've got to get you to somewhere safe, Angel. Maybe you can hide out in the library, and Giles can - " "Buffy, I appreciate your concern. But there's only one way to handle this. I have to face her." "But - "

"Look, Buffy, running around out there somewhere is the descendant of a family that I massacred one by one for decades. She has sworn to destroy me or die trying. And worse, she's tried to kill you, even though she knows you're on her side. I don't know exactly what's going on here, but it's not going to end until I face the Demonslayer. You heard her; she's not going to back off until one of us is dead."

V

Jessalyn MacFarlane cursed herself as she wove through the darkened alleyways. Why had she run? She should have faced him there, killed him, fulfilled her duty to her ancestors, the destiny that they had worked toward - and died for - for countless years. And the Slayer, too - she could have taken down her other target. No matter how much she disliked having to do it, it was her duty. But she had run from them. Could she have been any more feeble?! "Next time we meet, Angelus," she muttered, consoling herself with the message she had left the brute. "Next time we meet." "I can arrange a 'next time'." Jessa spun in the direction of the voice, saber instantly in hand. "You do realize it's dangerous to play with knives?" The voice came again. The Demonslayer seemed unmoved. "Put that away," the unseen owner of the voice sighed. "Don't worry, you won't be needing it." "Who are you?" Jessa snarled suspiciously. "Someone who's been trying to do the same thing as you for a long time." "Which would be?" A platinum-blonde male appeared from the shadows. "I believe somebody I know once phrased it, 'to kill 'em. To kill 'em all'." Jessa sheathed her sword. "I'm listening."

VI

"I can't believe you withheld so much from me! Didn't you ever consider the amount of danger you were putting yourself in? Not to mention Buffy! I can't believe you'd be so irresponsible!" Angel guessed he should have been prepared for something like this when, after hearing what the vampire had left out of his earlier story, Giles had requested 'a moment alone'. "I had expected better from a man your age, Angel," the Watcher continued. "I really had."

"Would you lay off?" Angel retorted. "I'm not one of your school kids, Giles, and you can't lecture me on how to behave. Okay, so I screwed up. It wouldn't be the first time. But it was a simple error in judgement. You can't tell me that's never happened to you." "No, I can't," Giles admitted reluctantly. "But, nonetheless, you've no excuse. Even before we established that this MacFarlane girl wants the Slayer dead, you should have realized that Buffy would be a target. You must remember that whenever she's with you, people like this 'Demonslayer' automatically consider her to be the enemy. The incident with Kendra should have proved that to you. If you really care for Buffy, you must do everything in your power to protect her, no matter how painful for you."

"Giles, I'd never let anything hurt Buffy on purpose. You know that. And you also know how much she means to me." The Watcher sighed. "Yes, I do." "Then you'll understand that all I can say is 'I'm sorry'." Despite the solemnity of the conversation that was taking place behind the closed doors of Giles' office, the teenager in question seemed rather cheery as she whittled away at a small length of wood with a Stanley knife. "You do realize that this is the fifth stake you've sharpened today," Xander pointed out, leaning over. "I think you've got some sort of obsessive/compulsive disorder going here." "Hey, if you were the only girl - " "What about Kendra?" Willow interrupted from her place at the computer. "Way to ruin the dramatic impact, Willow," Buffy scowled. "Okay, if you were one of the only two girls in the world sworn to battle blood-sucking demons of the night and other assorted nasties, you'd want a reserve supply, too."

Xander decided to change the subject. "So, this Demonslayer...did you get a good look at her?" "What, you mean between the stabbing and slashing? Yeah, I guess." "Does she look anything like our other two Slayers?" "Xan-der," Buffy and Willow simultaneously rolled their eyes. "What, no harm in asking. Just humor me. What'd she look like?" Buffy's eyes widened as the library doors swung open. "Like...that..." In a second, the Slayer had vacated her seat on the checkout counter and assumed fighting stance. Xander was for a moment torn between standing his ground and bolting. Eventually, he thought better of running and snatched up one of the stakes Buffy had just finished preparing. Willow desperately looked around for a weapon of some sort, and eventually snatched up a disk box that sat beside the computer (the overall effect of this action being less than threatening). "Back for round two, huh?" The Slayer challenged. "I am here to issue a challenge," the Demonslayer replied calmly. "But not to you. I am destined to fight the demon Angelus." "What about wanting to skewer Buff?" Xander cut in, from his position safely behind his friend, and the Demonslayer glared dangerously at him. "Okay, shutting up now..." "Angelus is my primary concern," the Demonslayer shrugged. "There'll be time enough to deal with the Vampire Slayer...or should that be vampire layer?...afterwards."

"At the rate you're going, there won't be an afterwards," Buffy snarled. "We'll see. You tell your bloodsucking boyfriend, for me, that it's time. About half a mile along the tracks from the old train station outside of town, there's an abandoned warehouse. The fight begins there, midnight." "Whatever happened to good ol' 'high noon'?" Xander lamented. "And tell him that if he doesn't come to me - alone - that I'll come and find him. And I'll kill whoever I have to in order to reach him, too." "Wow, haven't you got fantastic 'people' skills," Willow muttered. "See you later," the Demonslayer exited the library with little more warning than when she'd entered. "I wouldn't bet on it," Buffy growled, glaring after her. Xander tossed his stake back onto the small pile the Slayer had created, saying, "it's a good thing that I wasn't forced to use that. Things could've gotten very ugly." "Who was that?" Giles asked, emerging from his office with Angel in tow and catching sight of the library's doors still swinging. "Need you ask?" Buffy replied. "She was here?" Immediately, Giles' full attention was on the Slayer. "What did she want?"

"Well, first she asked if Will, Xander and I would like to catch dinner and a movie...what do you think she wanted, Giles?" "So she set down a challenge?" "Death threats, wisecracking, cocky over-confidence...yeah, I guess you could call it a challenge. She wants to meet Angel in an abandoned warehouse near an old train station...say, Giles, why are there so many abandoned buildings in Sunnydale anyway?" "Maybe people get turned off," Xander theorized. "You remember, the whole 'dark mouth of Hell, demons running rampant' thing?" "Was there anything else, Buffy?" Angel cut in. "Oh, just the usual bits about coming alone and her killing us all if you don't show." "What are you going to do?" Willow asked the vampire. Angel shrugged. "I guess I'm gonna see her there."

VII

"Come on out, Demonslayer. You said yourself that it was time." "I did, didn't I? And it is. I hope you're prepared." Jessa's long, sharpened sword slid free of its sheath. "I'll fight you if I have to, girl," Angel said, quite calmly, "but let me set a few things straight first. You saw me with Buffy - the Slayer - earlier, and you seem to know what the Slayer is sworn to do. I'm not who I was anymore." "Oh?" A raised eyebrow.

"What I did to Caitlin MacFarlane all those years ago is inexcusable - so is what I've done to your ancestors for decades - but I've changed. Becoming a vampire means losing your soul, and I did, but I got it back again, and I've spent the better part of a century suffering for what I did. And I don't expect you to believe me, so think about Buffy. Doesn't that prove something to you?" "It proves that your bimbo Slayer's just as dumb as she looks," Jessa retorted. "It'll be for the good of the world when I get rid of her." "Stay away from her," Angel snarled fiercely, his face partially reverting to 'vampire' status before he regained control. Jessalyn grinned. The plan was working. "You can't stop me, Angelus," she goaded. "Your girlfriend wouldn't last five minutes against me. And next time, you won't be there to save her. Unless, of course, you can stop me now." "There won't be 'next time'!" His muscles were tensing. He wanted to fight her now.

"Got anything you'd like me to tell her before I cut off her head?" "You won't touch her!" The infuriated vampire roared, striking out at the Demonslayer. His swing caught her across the face, knocking her to the ground. Rolling with the blow to lessen its impact and springing back to her feet, Jessa looked across at her opponent to see enraged red eyes deep in a malformed, feral face. The Demonslayer laughed. The trap was set. Time to trigger it. "I guess the battle starts now." On her last word, excruciating pain shot through Angel's left shoulder, only inches from the vampire's heart. He cried out, and one hand shot to his shoulder. A thin wooden arrow, with black flights, protruded from his back. Just as he was beginning to notice the strange mixture of fire and numbness spreading through his body, another bolt hit his thigh, dropping him to the floor. A second later, the vampire was pulled to his feet by a handful of his dark hair, and a familiar voice spoke to him.

"Not usually my style," Spike dropped the crossbow he'd been holding and sharply twisted the shaft in Angel's back with his free hand, drawing another cry from the older vampire. "But I thought I'd try something new for a change." "Spike!" Angel struggled weakly. "It was Jessalyn here's idea to tip the bolts with holy water, though," he continued, viciously shoving the wood further into Angel's back. "She's going to make a great Slayer when it comes time for her initiation into The Circle." "'The Circle'?! What are you playing at, Spike?!" "Spike let me in on the loop, Angelus," Jessa replied. "Game over. I know everything. About you, about your so-called 'Chosen One' and her 'lay 'em, don't slay 'em' philosophy. About the Slayer Circle, and how they've been trying to take the both of you down for years." "You don't seriously believe - "

Spike quickly brought a stop to the 'conversation' by driving his knee into Angel's back, pushing the arrow all the way through, not stopping until the point jutted out of the older vampire's chest. A pained cry split the air, and the younger vampire looked on, indifferent. "Are we done chatting?" he asked flatly. "We've got business to attend to."

VIII "That's it. I'm going after him." "Buffy, it's two a.m.," Giles protested. "Exactly." The Slayer rummaged behind the cushions of Angel's couch in search of her purse, which was always stocked for slaying (with allowance for a few make-up breaks). "If everything had gone okay, Angel would've been back hours ago. Something is very wrong here, Giles...geez, where'd I put my purse?!" "You think Angel may have lost the duel?" "Actually, Giles, you know, I was kind of deliberately trying not to think that - " "Oh, yes, of course. God forbid it." " - But yeah, I guess that's the worst possibility...where is that damn purse?!"

A sudden tapping at the window caused Buffy to leap to her feet. "Angel?!" Giles started toward the door, but she stopped him. "I'll get it. You find my purse." Muttering about how hunting escapee accessories was not part of a Watcher's job description, Giles took up the search while his young charge ran to the door and pulled it open. "Is it Angel?" He inquired after a few moments. "It's nobody," Buffy replied, puzzled. Then, she realized that something was swinging from the outside of the door. Stepping outside, the Slayer found a black leather jacket pinned to Angel's door with a rusted railroad spike. She didn't really need to wrench the spike free and inspect the jacket to know whom it belonged to, but nonetheless she did so. Giles was standing beside Buffy in the doorway now, having recovered the runaway purse and brought it with him. "Buffy, is that - " "Angel's. Yeah. And it came with a calling-card." "Is it possible that Spike may have ambushed Angel before he even reached the warehouse?"

"It's entirely possible, and that means trouble." She snatched her purse. "Giles, I'm going to pay our bloodsucking buddy a little visit." "No!" Her Watcher caught her arm as she tried to leave. "Don't you see, Buffy? That's exactly what they want, exactly what they'll be expecting. It's an obvious trap." "What do you want me to do? Just sit around until they hand me Angel in a dustbuster?" "I don't know yet, and I'm not going to pretend I do. But we must formulate some sort of plan." "Formulate away. I'm going." "Buffy!" "Look, Giles. No heavy stuff, I promise. No charging in with weapons drawn. I'll just have a look around. Nobody will even know I'm there. I swear." "Well..." "Please?" "You're going to go anyway, aren't you?"

"Odds are 'yes'. But I'd feel better if you gave me the okay." "Fine then," Giles sighed in defeat. "Go. But remember, nobody sees you." "Got it. I'm the invisible girl." "Somehow, I doubt that."

IX

"You said she'd be here, Spike," the Demonslayer reminded her newfound 'ally'. "Will you relax for just one minute?" The irritated vampire replied. "She will be here. How many times do I have to tell you? I've been fighting this renegade Slayer for years now. I know how she thinks." "You'd better be right, Spike," Jessa warned. "Are you threatening me, Jessalyn?" Spike raised an eyebrow dangerously. "Remember your place, girl, if you want to join the Slayer Circle."

"Now I can see why you feed her so much bullshit," came Angel's dry, humorless laugh. "She just eats it right up." Spike moved over to where Angel was shackled to a large wooden cross, and backhanded the older vampire across the face. "I've said it before, and I'll say it again - keep your hole shut." He sniffed the air thoughtfully, noting with some satisfaction the smell of his shirtless sire's vampire flesh burning against the crucifix. "Nice and toasty there, Angelus? You had better hope that your girl shows up soon - I don't think you've got all that long left." >From her vantage point on one of the many rickety walkways that passed over their heads, a furious Buffy was carefully calculating the risk of Spike seeing her if she shot him through the back. No, she eventually decided, not while the Demonslayer was so close to Angel. If she gave herself away now, It would be handing Jessa an open invitation to kill him. So she remained in hiding, watching and waiting, and hurting with every ragged breath she heard drawn by her battered boyfriend. "It hurts, doesn't it?" Spike continued, grinning. "Well, Angelus, that's the idea."

"A moment, Slayer," Jessa motioned Spike away, then lowered her voice. "Is this really necessary? I am here to destroy Angelus, not torture him. This drags us both down even to his level." "You know, I've just about had it with you!" Spike suddenly snapped. "You may be used to calling the shots, girl, but you aren't in charge here! You see, in The Circle, Spike is the boss. And you don't question what you know nothing about!" The MacFarlane girl glared at him defiantly for a few moments, a sharp retort on her lips, but then dropped her head submissively. "Forgive me, Slayer. It wasn't my place." "Damn straight it wasn't!" "I apologize."

Another laugh from Angel. "He's got you wrapped around his finger, hasn't he?" "You don't know when to shut up, do you?" His back to his sire, the younger vampire picked up one of his trademark torture implements from a nearby table, which was very similar to the spike Buffy had found in Angel's door earlier, and inspected its rusty, blunted point. >From her perch, Buffy saw him turning before Angel did. The Slayer saw it happen in slow-motion, fighting with every heartbeat to hold back her warning cry, trying not to hear Angel's scream as it mingled with the sickening sound of metal driving straight through his stomach. With a violent shudder, the older vampire went limp against the cross. And Buffy saw red.

"Down!" Jessa lunged at Spike, who failed to understand the meaning of her cry until he was on the floor and watching a sharpened wooden crossbow bolt shoot past, a bolt that would have killed him. "Get off me!" He threw her aside and scrambled to his feet. "It's that goddamned girl! Get her!" An odd sinking feeling had overcome Buffy, who was fervently wishing that she had kept her earlier promise to her Watcher. On her feet in a heartbeat, she dashed along the walkway, knowing that Spike's entire undead assembly would converge upon her in moments. Scratch the 'in moments' bit, she added to herself as a vamp appeared at the far end of the walkway and ran toward her, leaving her wishing she'd thought to reload the crossbow. As they began the inevitable fight, Buffy noticed with some puzzlement that the demon still appeared fully human. Then, she remembered the 'Slayer Circle' story that Spike had been feeding the Demonslayer - they must've been staying human in appearance to ascertain Jessa's allegiance. That made sense, she reasoned, because as long as she was Spike's ally, she wasn't his enemy.

Buffy flipped the vampire over the side of the walkway, deciding she didn't need so much to kill it, but more to get it out of her way so she could escape. When she looked up, however, a familiar sword was already raised and blocking her way. The Slayer rolled away from the blade as it came down, managing to get out of its path unscathed. "How stupid are you?" Buffy cried as the Demonslayer feinted at her. "What's it going to take to make you see?!" "Just shut up and fight!" Jessa replied, making a vicious thrust that Buffy barely dodged.

"What if I don't?" The retort was delivered before she actually thought about it, but she slowly realized that it actually made sense. "What if I don't want to fight you? You put on a good show, Demonslayer, but face it; you aren't a murderer." "Not like you!" Another thrust, this time a little more off. Buffy caught a faint note of distress in her opponent's voice. "I heard what you said before," the Slayer continued. "You wanted Spike lay off Angel. Even after what he did, you didn't want him to suffer." "I'll make YOU suffer!"

Eyes suddenly widening, the Slayer wrenched a stake from her boot. The Demonslayer was visibly relieved. But instead of trying to skewer Jessa, Buffy flung the stake past her - straight into the chest of a vampire that had been advancing on the Demonslayer. Jessalyn turned just in time to see the demon disintegrate into the small cloud that could only have meant a vamp had just been dusted. There was a moment of stunned silence. "Now do you believe me?!" The Slayer demanded of her open-mouthed opponent. "Or do I have to dust a couple more members of your 'Slayer Circle' before you catch on?!" "My God..." Jessa took a few steps backward, free hand shooting up to the side of her head. "Too bad, Jessalyn," Spike called from the factory floor. "I was looking forward to your joining up. Oh well, easy come, easy go. Lads, let 'em go."

Buffy realized what he'd ordered a second too late to do a thing. Above them, Spike's minions used bolt cutters to sever the first of three sets of cables suspending the right side of the walkway, the jolt tossing the Slayer off her feet. As the second set snapped, a result of the transferred weight, Buffy threw herself toward the side railings, cursing herself for picking possibly the most unstable overhead in the entire factory. Gripping the railing as the walkway groaned dangerously under the weight, Buffy looked around for her former opponent, who stood, still stunned, a few feet away. "Jessalyn! What are you, stu-" The Slayer was abruptly cut off as the third set of cables broke away, and the right side of the walkway swung down with a deafening grating noise. The Demonslayer lost her footing, and began sliding - fast - toward what must have been at least a thirteen-foot drop. Muttering something about how, all things considered, she really shouldn't be doing this, Buffy snatched out to catch Jessalyn's wrist as the girl slid past, and was left hanging with a railing in one hand and a Demonslayer in the other. "Other side," Spike ordered cheerfully, and Buffy looked up to see the left-side cables cut.

"This is all your fault, y'know," she informed the Demonslayer as the walkway broke away. Spike's triumphant laughter echoed through the abandoned building, but could barely be heard over the crash of metal - and two teenage girls - hitting the floor. Dazed, Buffy attempted to get to her feet. She tasted blood from trickling from somewhere above her eyebrow. The visage of Spike, fully transformed and standing over her, was spinning fuzzy circles in front of her. Little pinwheels of pain exploded before her eyes, and as she fell back to the ground, they faded into a single line of jagged pain that ran through blackness.

X Xander was woken by the harsh ring of his telephone. Glancing at the clock as he reached for the receiver, he scowled at the flashing digits of 5:34 am. "Hasn't anybody around here heard of p.m.?!" He snapped into the phone. "Lucky for you my parents are never home, Willow!" "How'd you know it was me?" "Angel doesn't have a phone. It was either you or Giles, and Giles was going to - " "Okay, okay, sorry I asked. Get dressed - there's a meeting at the library." "What, are we conducting a study on how long a teenager can go without sleep?" "Xander, this is serious! Will you just get dressed and come downstairs?"

"You're downstairs?" "We will be in about two minutes," Willow replied. "We phoned ahead. Are you coming?" Muttering, "sure, not like I was planning on sleeping or anything," Xander hung up the phone and rolled out of bed. With significant effort, he resisted the temptation to go back to sleep, and hurriedly donned the nearest items of clothing before stumbling downstairs. As a result, he looked a complete mess when Willow and her boyfriend, Oz, pulled up in Oz's van. "Are you okay?" The guitarist asked with some concern as Willow shifted over to make room for their friend. "Normally I'd make a joke about the walking dead," Xander replied, climbing in, "but in Sunnydale, that kind of thing just loses its originality." Minutes later, Buffy's three friends poured into the library. Giles looked up as they entered. "All right, Giles," Xander took a seat on the desk. "Out with it. What's goin' down?" "I'm afraid something rather serious has come up." "Oh," Xander seemed disappointed, "and here I thought we were going to have a pajama party." "Something far too serious to joke about," Giles glared at Xander. "As you know, I was keeping Buffy company whilst Angel went through with the Demonslayer's challenge. Several hours ago, when he still hadn't returned, Buffy and I received a rather...unnerving...gift from Spike." He held up Angel's jacket and the spike. "Buffy went to investigate, but she never returned."

"Oh my Gosh," Willow exclaimed. "What are we gonna do?" "I believe I have something of a plan," Giles replied. "But it's going to require a lot of preparation time - a few days, even - and I'm not entirely sure if...well...if they have that long." "So you want our take on it?" Oz assumed. The librarian nodded. Much to Willow's surprise, both Xander and Oz were looking to her. The young woman sighed. "Spineless men. All right, Giles, I guess it's better than nothing, preparation time or no preparation time. Let's do it."

XI

Jessa sat in one corner of the roughly-square pit, back to the other two prisoners, holding her knees against her chest with one arm. The other - her sword arm - was a complete mess, its entire length twisted and mangled, the hand hanging off at a grotesque angle. It was painful. It was excruciating. But she had been trained to deal with pain since before she knew what it was, so it wasn't the fire searing her body that hurt her.

How could she have been so stupid? Spike's story had been as transparent as a glass window, but she hadn't even tried to see through it. It was ridiculous; him being the leader of the Slayer Circle, a group of mortals who hunted and destroyed vampires, which the girl claiming to be the Slayer had turned against when she began lusting after Angelus. Deep down, she'd always known it was a lie. She'd heard that voice in the back of her mind telling her over and over to question it, to ask him to walk into the sunlight, to touch a crucifix, to look in a mirror. But she hadn't. She'd wanted it to be true so badly that she'd forced herself to believe. She'd been so desperate for something to cling to, for something that would justify her actions against the Slayer. Something...anything. One of Jessalyn's first memories was being told who she was, the legacy that she carried. She remembered the way that it had been cemented into her mind, taking precedence above all else. She remembered the vague faces of people she may have cared for, people who had told her over and over how important was the destiny that her ancestors had so long worked toward. And she also remembered her horror when she'd first found out what that meant - not just Angelus, but the Slayer. She would have to kill a girl, not unlike herself in duty, in order to take one more step toward her clan's ultimate revenge. The thought of all the lives she would destroy by taking just one had amazed her. In fact, the feeling of devastation was not unlike the immense guilt she felt now. Jessalyn looked over at that girl, the Slayer, Buffy Summers. Jessa had tried not to find out too much about her target's life. The more she was involved, the more she knew, the harder it was to see Buffy only as an obstacle to be overcome. But as the demon she was sent to kill sat gently cradling the Slayer's unmoving form, oblivious to the pain it caused him, Jessa couldn't help but wonder. If Buffy could win the heart of a demon, how many others could she have meant something to? What about her parents? Did the Slayer have a brother, a sister? Friends who would mourn after her? Or did she live in a world like Jessa's, where she had been trained, not loved?

"If she never wakes up..." the vampire began, noticing her looking, but then trailed off, obviously not wanting to face that possibility. Jessa turned away, not wanting to speak to him. That was partly because she didn't know what to say, but mostly because she didn't know how he'd react to her. When Spike had tossed her, the Slayer and the vampire (the latter two unconscious) into the pit dug out below the warehouse's floorboards, he had smiled as he included Jessalyn's saber and Buffy's stake. He wanted them to fight. He wanted them to become like desperate, caged animals, who would gradually drive each other insane until one could no longer stand the others. She wanted to fight that, but she didn't know how they would fare. "Why did you want to kill her?!" Angelus demanded, visibly distraught. "Hating me I can understand, but why bring Buffy into it?! What did she ever do to you?!"

"You don't understand." Jessa kept her back to him. "Do you really expect me to?!" "It is my destiny..." "Your destiny was OUR fight! Do you even realize what you've done?! Buffy is the only one who can fight them! Every innocent life those monsters take is on your head!" "I'm sorry!" She spun to face him. "I'm sorry for everything! It was never meant to be like this!" "Of course it wasn't," he replied coldly. "Buffy and I were supposed to be dead." Jessa turned away again biting back all the angry retorts that threatened. "What you and Buffy have is something I never knew," she said eventually, voice quiet. "Maybe if I did, it wouldn't have turned out this way. But you've got to understand that I didn't come here because I wanted to; I came here because I was told that it was the only way. Do you know what it's like, to have only one constant in your life, to have almost two centuries' worth of weight suddenly dumped on your shoulders?" The vampire didn't say anything. "Then hear me out. Let me explain, then judge me." "All right. Explain away."

"There's more to my duty than just hunting you. When my clan first discovered the existence of the Slayers, it was told that if a Demonslayer was also chosen as the Slayer, that girl would possess a power that could destroy the demons we so hated once and for all. As the MacFarlane line grew closer and closer to extinction, we were forced to resort to...well...desperate measures." "Meaning you'd murder innocent girls like Buffy on the off chance that one of you might be the next Slayer?!" Angel was incredulous. "Meaning that I am sworn to kill the Slayer until she is a MacFarlane," Jessa affirmed. "But the Demonslayer doesn't murder - it's a challenge. It's a fair fight." "Yeah, like ours was."

"I know I screwed up. I'm sorry for everything. And I'm sorry that I can't do anything more than apologize. This isn't who I want to be anymore, but I can't escape it. If your story's true, you of all 'people' should know how that feels." Angel paused before grudgingly agreeing. "Yes, I do." This was followed by a much longer pause. Buffy stirred a little in Angel's arms. "So where does that leave us?" The vampire asked the Demonslayer. "You...me...Buffy." "I don't know," for once, Jessalyn's voice was very small. "I just don't know." What was left of the conversation was brought to halt by the sound of footsteps overhead, and the portion of flooring that covered the pit grated to one side. Jessa saw the two objects - a half-full bottle of water and a small portion of bread - that she'd come to expect from their captors each day fall into the pit before the cover was replaced. The Demonslayer reached to retrieve the bread - not at all appetizing, but a preferable alternative to starving to death. "Angelus - Angel - this isn't much good to you, is it?" She asked. "Nope."

"A vampire can't starve to death, can it? But it can suffer." "'It' already does." "So he's keeping us all alive. But why?" "It's your fault we're down here," Angel snapped, picking up the bottle of water, and holding Buffy's head up to let some run over her lips. "You tell me." His stinging retort caused a brief period of silence, which was broken by the Slayer. "Angel?..." Buffy murmured, moving her head slightly. "Buffy, can you hear me?" "...Yes...but it's all dark..." "Shh, relax. I'm going to sit you up, okay?" The Slayer winced as Angel gently propped her up against one of his legs, and opened her eyes slightly. "I'm...thirsty..." "Slowly," Jessalyn cautioned as Angel lifted the bottle to the Slayer's lips. The vampire looked at her with a hint of surprise. "Please...let me help," Jessa asked, at the same time explaining. "I know what I'm doing." "You've changed your tune," Angel, if a little suspiciously, motioned for her to join them. "I heard a better song," she replied. "Slayer, tell me where it hurts." "...Everywhere..." "Yeah. Okay. Where does it hurt the most?" "Here..." Buffy touched a spot above her hips with one hand, and immediately withdrew it with a short gasp of pain. The Demonslayer gently touched each set of ribs, noting where the other girl reacted. "Angel..." Buffy's weak voice asked. "...What's going on?...Why...her?..."

"It's okay," he replied. "Jessalyn's done the 'coming around' thing, just like Kendra did. She just took a little longer." Jessa was about to say something along the lines of 'what about that whole 'sworn to kill you both' thing', but Angel shot her a look that firmly informed her that Buffy didn't need to know it - yet. The Demonslayer motioned that Angel move away from Buffy. The vampire gently eased the Slayer down and followed Jessa into a corner so Buffy wouldn't overhear. "It's not that bad," Jessa reported, "but it's not good either. I think she's only cracked one rib, maybe two, but even that could be dangerous. If we try to move her, it might puncture a lung. There's not much else, but she still isn't in great shape." "Neither are you," Angel pointed out, indicating her arm. "That's got to hurt." "I can deal with it," the Demonslayer replied. "Pain is in the mind." "But you'll never use your sword again, will you?" She turned her head away. "Sorry," he began. "I didn't mean to - " "Drop it," she interrupted. "Just drop it." "We've got to get out of here," she changed the subject, at length. "No kidding?" Angel asked flatly. "Hey, it just seemed like the thing to say. Got any ideas?" "I don't have anything yet - Spike will have taken precautions, and he knows how I think. After what you just said, I don't want to risk moving Buffy yet. And I'm sure not leaving without her - she'll be as good as dead."

"So we just sit around?" The Demonslayer didn't seem impressed. "We wait. Buffy's Watcher and the others have pulled us out of worse situations than this." "Are you sure they'll be able to find us?" "They've been to Spike's hangout before. They'll find us." "That's the problem," Jessa reluctantly replied. "We're not in Spike's hangout anymore." "Say what?!" "We're in the warehouse you and I were supposed to fight in. Spike's not risking them finding us that easily." "Well. That's just great." Yet another pause. "I guess that doesn't change anything. We still can't go anywhere until Buffy's stronger." "It will be a while before she can move," Jessalyn seemed doubtful. "Can you cope with that?" He looked back at the Slayer. "For Buffy, I can do whatever it takes." The conversation was clearly over, at least for the meantime. Angel went back to Buffy's side and offered her another drink. Jessa retreated to the corner she had been sitting in before, wondering if the man in this unique creature was stronger than the demon. And she mused over the fact that, whilst his love for the Slayer may have been Angel's greatest weakness, it was also his greatest strength.

XII

The resemblance was amazing. That fire in her hair, tossing back and forth, that angled face bathed in hot sweat and red blood. Those piercing green eyes, fiercely refusing to surrender tears in response to his torture. Those thick red lips, clamped shut to contain her agony.

Angelus ran a hand along Skye MacFarlane's smooth cheekbone, as if he hoped to somehow touch what he had lost when Caitlin had refused him. In all the years that he had fought the Demonslayers, the vampire had never seen one who looked quite so much like his lost love as this one. Had he not seen her die that night, he might have believed that Caitlin was still alive in the woman before him.

"Still beautiful," he whispered quietly, almost sadly. Reaching down, he clasped one of her shackled hands - the right one, as he had already finished with the left one. For a moment he held it, gently, almost lovingly, wishing it were Caitlin's as much as it looked so. Then, with a cold casualty, he slowly bent her wrist sideways until he heard it snap.

The torture had gone on to long. This final break marked the point where the pain had finally become too much for Skye. She screamed. She screamed over and over, at last releasing the lifetime of concealed pain into the air. Angelus closed his eyes and listened contentedly to the sound that meant he had conquered another Demonslayer. He knew from experience that possibly the strongest part of their code was that pain was in the mind, that they would not feel it. When a Demonslayer broke that rigid rule, she had as good as admitted defeat.

But as he opened his eyes, his grin disappeared. The striking features that were testament to Skye's ancestry were changing. They slowly shifted into a face that was much less beautiful, but just as familiar - and still a Demonslayer - Jessalyn. Before the vampire could pull his surprise back into check, she was changing again, and he found himself standing over a young woman he knew better than anybody - Buffy - the Slayer - his Slayer - his love.

Angelus took a step back. This wasn't possible. It was the 1800's. He didn't even know Buffy or Jessalyn yet. This couldn't be happening... Suddenly, he was Angel again. He was the only vampire with a soul. And he was all of them; he was Buffy and Jessalyn, Skye and Caitlin and Liam, the young mortals who were Spike and Drusilla. And he was the hundreds of faceless, nameless humans that he had killed so he could go on 'living'. But he was himself as well. All of their lives, their souls, had merged into a single consciousness, a single body that was trying to be free but was held down by the chains Angel had forged so long ago with his evil.

He - they - didn't see the figure standing over them move until it was too late. All of them felt the terrible pain, shooting up through that one body, quenching the flames of countless mortal lives in one swift stroke. And Angel, unable to die, saw them rising from that body, pulled to somewhere higher, somewhere he could never reach. "Don't leave me..." he moaned. Buffy looked back at him with sad eyes as he reached out to her. She touched him, one last time, her fingers like feathers against his skin, no longer living but still holding a warmth entirely of her own. He tried to hold her, to stop her from slipping away, but he couldn't grasp that insubstantial hand. She slowly faded to nothing, leaving him, the solitary being who would once again have to deal with the pain of death alone. Hot blood washed over him, and he looked up to the killer who had just taken so many lives. He saw himself, laughing.

Jolted out of one nightmare, Angel found himself waking to another. His first realization was that he was transforming. He felt his face slowly melting into the form of the monster that was forever inside him, he felt the fangs he hated growing inside his mouth. The demon was taking control. "Nooo!" The vampire screamed, finding himself unable to stop the transformation. His cries went unheeded. Cursing himself for a fool, he finally realized that this was Spike's plan. The 'few more days', although allowing Buffy some time to recuperate, had been too long. Angel's demon wanted blood, now, and the human side of him was far too weakened to fight it. Red, gold-tinged eyes leveled their hungry gaze on the sleeping form of Buffy. "No..." Angel moaned as he slowly and deliberately moved to her side. He bent down, gently lifted her head, and moved in toward her exposed neck.

"Angel!" Jessalyn's voice came. "What're you doing?!" Snarling, he released Buffy's head. He was on his feet and facing the Demonslayer in a second. "I can't fight it!" Angel cried as he swung at her. "I can't stop it! This is what Spike planned!" "What can I do?!" Jessa asked, desperate. "Kill me!" He shouted. "Kill me! I don't care! You have to save Buffy!" Angel swung at the Demonslayer again. Jessalyn ducked, rolled, and instinctively went for her sword, cursing herself when she remembered the destruction of her sword arm. She picked it up in her left hand, holding it clumsily before her as the vampire advanced. "Fight it, Angel! I don't want to kill you!" Her words had absolutely no effect. Angel lunged, Jessalyn dodged and swung, her sword way off its mark and only slicing a little into Angel's left forearm. The vampire howled in fury, lashing out and catching the side of her face, knocking her down. Angel grabbed the Demonslayer's broken arm and started twisting it, holding her down with his body.

"Angel...fight it..." Jessalyn begged, and Angel detected the same strength he'd found in the earlier Demonslayers, and had taken so much glee in breaking. "I'm sorry..." he said helplessly, twisting further. Jessalyn wouldn't last much longer. If he broke her the same way he had broken the others, what would become of her? After the Demonslayers had passed that point, they had never even tried to look back. But there was nothing he could do! With his final, vicious twist of her mangled limb, Jessa lost her control. Hot tears spilled down her cheeks. Screams bounced off the pit's walls, echoed in his ears. He shut his eyes tightly, unable to look at her, unable to admit to what he'd done to what was left of Clan MacFarlane. And neither of them noticed the movement somewhere behind them.

A sudden pain shot through the vampire's body. With little more than a surprised cry, he lost consciousness, collapsing on top of Jessalyn with Buffy's stake protruding from his lower back. The Slayer struggled over, grinding her teeth against the pain it caused, and hurriedly unbuckled Angel's belt. Pulling the vampire's arms behind his back, she bound them tightly, only hoping that it would be enough to hold him. That done, she removed the stake. "Are you okay?" She asked Jessa, whose back was turned to her, and did not receive a reply. "Hey, Demonslayer...Jessalyn? Are you..." "Leave me alone," the Demonslayer choked out, getting to her feet somewhat stiffly and returning to her corner. The Slayer stared after her, bewildered.

XIII

"Giles, we've officially hit a roadblock," Xander reported as he and Oz swung through the library doors. "What is it?" The Watcher demanded instantly. Xander noted that he was in full 'battle-mode'; he hadn't even stuttered. "Will it effect the plan?" "You could say that," Xander replied. "Put simply, we just got back from our little spy mission to 'Vamp Central', and it appears that Buffy and Angel have checked out." "You mean - " Oh, the stuttering had returned. Xander guessed he should've known it wouldn't be gone for long. "Uh-huh. Stop the planning, 'coz even if we manage to get in without any biting, breaking, folding, spindling, stapling, mutilation, dismemberment or other, we aren't gonna find Buff." "Oh." Giles replied. "Well...I'll admit that I didn't even consider this..." "Oh, well done," Xander muttered. "Xander, if you have an idea, feel free to share it with us." "I'll be quiet now." "Good." "I've got an idea," Oz put in. "Let's hear it," Giles prompted. "See, we've sort of been taking it for granted that Spike's to blame for this. But if he doesn't have Buffy and Angel, maybe it was this Demonslayer girl. Maybe the vamps have nothing to do with it." "What, are you kidding?" Xander cut in. "Spike having nothing to do with Buffy and Angel disappearing is like Giles going without his tweed for a day!" "Now just one minute..." Giles looked slightly putout. "No, he's right," Willow cut in. "I mean, not just the tweed, but Spike too. Maybe the Demonslayer just set it up so we'd go after Spike instead of her."

"It's entirely possible," Giles agreed. "Are you kidding?! It's obvious that this is one of Spike's numbers!" "Xander, what's with you?!" Willow demanded. "Why is it so hard for you to admit that Oz might be right and you might be wrong?!" "But what if he's wrong?" Xander snapped. They could all easily feel the conversation becoming more heated. "We could waste all of our time running around after a girl who could be anywhere and come to our senses a minute too late to save them!" "As oppose to what we're doing now?" Willow snapped back. "Well, you don't see me sitting on my butt, surfing the 'Net, while my buddy does all the work!" "Hey," Oz interjected, "see, I kind of have to step in at this point, to remind you that that's my girlfriend you're talking to..." "I hate to break it to you, but Willow's been my friend ages before you showed up!" "Xander!" Willow cut in, amazed by his anger. "Back off!" "Stay out of it!"

"Silence!" Giles cried, slamming a large, heavy book down on the countertop to make his point. "Silence, I say! Do any of you juveniles think that this bickering is going to help Buffy and Angel?" "That's a little harsh, isn't it?" Xander asked meekly, after a moment's silence. "On the contrary, I think it was quite appropriate," Giles replied curtly. "Now, in light of what Oz and Xander have just said, we must clearly restructure our plan. It seems to me quite possible that the Demonslayer may be behind this, so we must do what we can to find out if she is. But, since she may well not be, it's a matter of covering all of our proverbial bases." "So what you're saying is, we should split up." "Precisely, Willow. And we should pray that we're not too late."

XIV Jessalyn realized, watching the vamped-out Angel, conscious again, struggle against the improvised bonds that held him - his belt, a khaki overshirt that Jessa had been wearing, and Buffy's jacket. She shifted her position, and glanced at her saber, lying a few feet away. The thoughts drifted through her head quickly, smoothly, and without effect. Her will to fight had left her along with her pride. She had broken the Demonslayer's code, broken a rule that had stood for centuries. She, her life, her existence, was worth nothing now. The last of the Demonslayers, the final daughter of Clan MacFarlane, had failed.

She looked over at Buffy. The injured Slayer's earlier efforts had really taken it out of her. Weak and exhausted, she had fallen asleep - or unconscious, it was hard to tell - not long after Angel had been subdued. Jessalyn reminded herself, then bitterly added, She was trying to fool herself with cynicism, she realized, trying to dismiss the guilt. But, no matter how much she pretended, it was nibbling away at her with infuriating persistence. She couldn't shake the knowledge that this was entirely her fault. She was responsible for denying the world its Slayer, the only one who could fight these soulless creatures. She had not only failed in her mission, but she had practically done Spike's job for him. "Jessalyn, I'm sorry." The sound of Angel's voice brought her out of her thoughts. She looked up at him; his body was still frantically struggling, but his face was human again, brown eyes deep and earnest. "I'm sorry," he continued, "for letting you blame yourself for everything. It's not your fault. It was me who made you who you are." "If I - "

"Jessalyn, listen to me." His voice took on a note of cold finality. "You can't let me hurt Buffy, or you. I want you - I need you - to kill me, now. Before I get another chance. If I get loose again, neither of you are going to survive." "But - " "Do it," he ordered. "Do it, Jessalyn MacFarlane, it's the only way." "I guess I always said that one of us would die before we parted," Jessalyn reached out for her saber, tears in her eyes. "It's blood you need, Angelus. It's blood you'll get."

XV

"Get down!" Giles ordered, pulling Xander back down behind the barrel. "Someone's coming!" "All right, already," Xander muttered. "Geez, I'm not that dense! Why'd I have to get stuck with you as a partner?" "Be quiet!" The Watcher hissed. Xander was silenced, and just in time, for a lone vampire had emerged from the building, carrying something that couldn't be identified in the dark. Xander was instantly raising the crossbow he was equipped with, but Giles put out a hand to stop him. "Wait!" "What?! Oh, yeah, that whole 'he might lead us right to them' deal, huh?" "Your aptitude astounds me. Let's go." Meanwhile, the second team Buffy's friends had formed had just entered an abandoned warehouse near some weathered railway tracks. "Hello?" Oz called to the near-empty building. "Anybody home?" "Shh," Willow cautioned, switching on her flashlight. "Remember, the Demonslayer might be in here, too."

"Oh." Oz lowered his voice. "Right, of course. Be very, very quiet." The boy looked around. The warehouse seemed very much empty. "You sure this is the right place?" "Okay, since you're fairly new at this job, I'll give you a few moments to think about how it's Sunnydale's only old train station with an abandoned warehouse along the line before I answer you..." "Oh. Thanks. It's appreciated." "And, Oz, I've been meaning to apologize for Xander, being such a jerk before. " "You don't have to apologize." "I want to. Look, he doesn't really mean to act that way...it's just that, when you've known somebody for as long as he's known me, you get a little over-protective...and it's one of those 'teen guy' hang-ups...they're so infantile..." "Oh, thanks."

"Not...that...all...I mean, well, you're a senior, so... "Chill, Will," her boyfriend interrupted, making her realize she'd been falling into one of her characteristic ramblings. "I know what you mean." "Oh. Good. I just had to clear that up." Oz grinned, and Willow got that dizzy, fluffy sort of feeling that made her want to forget about Buffy and Angel and head back to the van with him for several hours. Not that she'd desert them, of course. But it would've been nice...really nice... Willow blinked several times, pushing away the rather pleasing mental image that she was getting (but carefully storing it up carefully for later appraisal). There would be time enough for that sort of thing once they'd found their friends. The pair separated and moved out in opposite directions to comb through what was left of the old building. After completing a full circuit of the warehouse and carefully examining everything from empty packing crates to rusted-over machinery, the pair had come up with absolutely nothing. "Is it just me, or are we getting nowhere?" Oz inquired as they met up in the middle. "I'm beginning to think Xander may have been right." "Well, I guess it's happened on occasion," Willow conceded. "But I just had this...feeling..." "Spooky," he commented, aiming his flashlight at the ceiling so the beam cast ominous shadows over his face. "Say, did you hear that?"

"Did I hear what?" "Don't look now, but I think somebody's coming." "Kill the light!" Willow hissed. Hurriedly switching their lights off, the couple scrambled behind the cover of a stack of dusty crates as the warehouse's door creaked open. A lone figure appeared in the doorway, features obscured by the shadows. "D'you think it's the Demonslayer?" Oz asked in a whisper. "Nuh-uh," Willow replied quietly, barely daring to breathe. "I saw the Demonslayer. She was shorter. It's somebody else." The pair watched as the mystery person (well, odds were it actually wasn't a person) knelt down in roughly the center of the warehouse floor. "What's he doing?" Oz raised an eyebrow. "Shh!" Was Willow's only reply. At the door, Xander had just asked Giles the same question, and received much the same answer. "Just be patient," the Watcher silenced him. The moonlight falling through the open doorway illuminated the dim building just enough for Buffy's friends to see what was going on as the vamp, with a some effort, released some sort of catch and lifted away a panel of the warehouse's flooring. Looking down into the pit, it let fall the objects it had been carrying. "Okay, we found 'em," Xander muttered, raising the crossbow again. "Now he's a dust bunny."

Before Giles could stop him, the teenager had loosed the bolt and scored with practiced ease a direct hit. The vamp barely had time to cry out in surprise as it disintegrated. "Ashes to ashes..." Xander grinned. "You know I've always wanted to say that after dusting one of them?" "Xander!" Giles groaned. "What if they're not down there? Or what if one of them is, but one's somewhere else? Do you ever stop to think?!" "Uh...Giles?" Willow emerged from behind the crates, Oz in tow. "That was a nice shot and all, but shouldn't you have waited?" "And everybody's a critic!" Xander snapped, throwing his hands up in exasperation. "I don't know why I even bother!" "That's okay, neither do we," Oz replied, unable to resist the chance for a comeback.

"You stay out of it, wolfman," Xander glared at him. "Uh...guys?" Buffy's voice drifted out of the pit. "Buffy!" Willow cried. Immediately, she and the others lost all interest in arguing and rushed to the missing floor panel. "Buff, are you okay?" Xander called anxiously. "More or less...but Angel..." Sensing a note of distress in her friend's voice, Willow aimed a flashlight down into the pit, to reveal a disturbing scene. The Slayer was propped up against a wall, one hand wrapped around her midsection and her face contorted with pain. Opposite her was the hunched form of Angel, curled over with his head in his hands. And between them, one outward-turned wrist displaying a long, deep gash, was a body that Xander and Willow recognized as the Demonslayer. "What...what happened, Buffy?" Giles asked. "Just get us out," the Slayer replied quietly, eyes downcast.

XVI

"She cut her own wrist?" Willow's sad eyes widened. "Yeah," Angel nodded, his voice so quiet that they wouldn't have heard it if not for the complete silence in the room. "I told her to kill me, but...instead, she...she..." "Wait..." Xander interrupted. "Are you saying that you fed on her?" The vampire hung his head. His voice almost broke on his reply. "Yeah. Yeah, that's what I'm saying." "I don't think they need to hear anymore," Buffy touched his shoulder from the bed, silencing him. "I'd say they get the picture." "Uh, yes...indeed...the picture..." Giles replied. There was a period of silence. Not one of the group currently in the Buffy's hospital room - Slayer, vampire, Watcher or other - really knew what to say. A particularly somber mood - not without good reason - had fallen on Buffy and her friends. "Can I talk to you for a minute?" Angel asked the Watcher, getting to his feet.

"Yes, of course," Giles replied, following him out the door. "What d'you suppose that's about?" Buffy wondered when they were gone. "Probably just another one of dead boy's self-pity trips," Xander replied with a smug grin. Buffy glared at him. "Not that there's anything wrong with brooding, of course," he quickly added. "I mean, it's a useful skill for the people of today to have! You never know when you're gonna need a good - " "Drop it, Xander." "Done." "So, Buff," Willow put in, "when do you get out?" "A week. As of next Saturday, I'm a free Slayer." "So when does the party start?" Xander asked immediately. "Say what?" Buffy raised an eyebrow. "The dance party at the Bronze. The all night 'we got Buff back' celebration."

"Xander, I don't really want - " "Oh, come on," Willow coaxed. "Tell me it doesn't sound fun." "I guess...well, okay. Party at six?" "Hold it!" A familiar voice entered the room, followed by a familiar person. "Somebody in here said party, and that is sooo what I need right now!" "Cordelia?!" Xander's eyes lit up, visibly. "You're back!" "Damn," Willow muttered under her breath. "I thought you were in Australia!" Xander was clearly confused. "Ugh, don't even talk to me about that...that...hole!" Cordelia grimaced. "What, did a dingo chew up your designer shoes?" "No," she shot Xander a glare. "But it was horrible! Do you know it's winter in Australia?! All the beaches were, like, closed! And the shopping malls - ugh - they're all so small, like the size of a convenience store! And as for all those stupid animals, well, we didn't even see any koalas or kangaroos or anything! Oh, and you know, I got arrested, when it wasn't even me who was driving on the wrong side..." Cordelia's tirade of holiday complaints gradually faded as Xander ushered her out of the room and down the corridor, probably to find a broom closet.

"Gee," Willow commented, clearly in awe. "And here we thought Angel was good at self-pity." Meanwhile, Giles and Angel were taking seats on a wooden bench under a tree, not far from the building's entrance. "Giles," Angel began, "what did you tell Joyce about Buffy's injuries?" "What did I - oh, yes. I told her that Buffy'd had an accident at the camp, that would, of course, be covered by their insurance." "I thought so. Look, everything this costs you, medical bills or whatever, I'm charging to my account. There's way more than enough there." "But I don't think...I mean, essentially, Buffy is my responsibility -" "Contradict me and I'll burn your library down." "Well, that's a just little vicious, don't you think?" "Just making it clear that I won't take no for an answer. Look, I know it isn't much, but it's the least I can do. After all I've done, at least it'll be a start." Giles looked at him. "You made a start a long time ago."

XVII

As he often did when he couldn't think clearly, Angel had gone for a walk. In a decidedly melancholy mood, the vampire drifted through the warm, balmy night, in hopes that he'd come up with a reason for Jessalyn MacFarlane's actions. However, all he got as he prowled the darkened, silent streets of Sunnydale was questions. What could have made her choose that end? What made her decide that he was worth it? It had been a full week since their most recent ordeal's end, but it was even now just sinking in; the Demonslayer, sworn to destroy him, had willingly given up her life for him. She had betrayed everything she'd ever stood for, all she'd ever known. She'd given it all up for him, for a dark, evil, soulless demon of the night who'd done unspeakable things to her family for decades. "You can come out, Buffy," the vampire sighed quietly as he rounded a corner outside the Bronze. "I know you're there." After a moment of surprise, the Slayer moved from the shadows to his side. "How'd you know I was following?" "You can't hide from someone who loves you." He reached out an arm to gather her close.

"That doesn't really explain much," she scowled. "But since it's so sweet, I'm gonna let it slide." "Why are you here?" "I could ask the same question." "I'm thinking." "About Jessalyn?" "Yeah. You know, Buffy, she was a lot like me. When she finally realized that she was wrong, she was already trapped. She couldn't stop being the Demonslayer. She couldn't escape it." "Sometimes escape isn't the answer, Angel," she said softly. "Jessalyn realized that. That's why she fought it instead." He kissed her. "Never let me fight it alone." He held her for a long, lingering moment, making the kiss last. The question entered his mind, what would you have done if she hadn't been there?, but he ignored it. He never wanted to face that possibility. He would always have her; he'd never let her go. "You never told me what you were doing here," he reminded her. "I'm meeting the others here at six." "You're early." "I know. I was hoping I'd find you." "I'm not really in the mood for a party," he pointed out. "Then you can leave before the party starts. I just want one dance. To make up for all those romantic evenings we were supposed to have while I was staying over." He couldn't argue logic like that. He allowed her to lead him into the Bronze.

"Buffy, how can you just look past it?" The vampire asked as they reached the dance floor, just in time for the evening's first slow song. "Look past what?" "Look past me. Look past everything I've done and been. Look past my entire life." Tenderly, she ran a hand along the side of his face. "I've never looked past it. It's just that the good in you is so much stronger. And Jessalyn saw it too. She saw it so clearly that she died to keep it alive. Doesn't that prove something to you?" "But how you do that? How can you forgive me when I can't even forgive myself?" Buffy just held him tighter, not answering. Behind them, the night's cover band could be heard singing words which spoke her heart better than she could have hoped to.

Come, why you look so sad? The tears are in your eyes, Come on and come to me, now, Don't be ashamed to cry, Let me see you through, 'Cause I've seen the dark side too, When the night falls on you, don't know what to do, Nothing you confess could make me love you less, I'll stand by you, I'll stand by you, And I'll never desert you, I'll stand by you.