Author's Note: For this story to fit in with the Seventh Son storyline I have constructed, it must be assumed that 'Angel' started about a month and a half before it actually did. The character Gabriel Giles was introduced in a previous BtVS story I wrote entitled 'Divergent Paths'. (Buffy Sec)

Buffy squirmed and thrashed under her bedsheets, her mind caught in
the throes of a dream. Gabriel was with her in the dream, just like
he had been the last time. Soft, faintly wavy auburn hair, bow shaped
lips and endlessly deep green eyes marked with a halo of gold. He
touched her, carefully putting his hands on her hips and leaning
close to her cheek. Behind him, the sky was black, shot through with
veins of fiery red.

"I miss you." He whispered, his lips delicately brushing the skin of
her ear.

She closed her eyes and allowed herself a moment of comfort in his
arms, basking in the warmth of his body, then pulled back enough to
look him in the face. The auburn-haired young man was gone and it was
Angel who was holding her now. Behind him, the world had become a
river of rushing traffic and bright, gaudy lights.

"I miss you." He whispered, releasing his hold on her waist and
stepping back, away from her.

She reached out for him, but he was too far away, fading into the
background. He was still Angel, but now his hair was auburn and his
eyes were gold on green. Flames leaped up around him and he smiled,
backing into the inferno.

"The fire will bring me to you." He called, his body dissipating
completely into the air. "Remember the fire. It will save you."

She started and sat up straight in her bed, her heart pounding in her
chest and her lungs pumping with quick, short breaths.

* * *

"That's the fourth time this month." Buffy rubbed her eyes and yawned
as she strolled slowly along the sun-drenched sidewalk, "It's getting
so a girl can't get a decent bit of beauty sleep anymore."

Beside her Willow kept pace, her hands folded in front of her at her
waist.

"It's got to be a prophecy." she reasoned, "Normal dreams don't recur
like that. Plus, you've got a track record. But Angel and Gabriel
have both been gone for months, it doesn't make sense."

Buffy remembered the partings well. Three months ago, not long after
he had arrived in Sunnydale, Gabriel had lost his father and, with
him, his apparent zest for life. Buffy, Giles and the others had done
what they could to console him, but nothing seemed to have an effect.
Then one afternoon, he was just gone, leaving only a short note
behind as explanation.

Two months later, Angel had left as well, pausing to gaze at her one
last time from a distance, a forlorn, heartsick look in his eyes.
Mayor Wilkins was dead and the Ascension had been thwarted. They had
both known that it was time for him to leave.

For Buffy, the past month had been filled with bittersweet memories
and longing.

"It must mean something." Willow's brows knitted together in
thought. "Is there any kind of pattern to the dreams?"

"Yeah," Buffy nodded, "Every time, Gabriel stays longer and Angel
looks like he's in a different place. Except the last two times he's
been in a big city with lots of lights."

Willow tugged open the top of a small, cloth bag and began digging
around inside. "Maybe I can work a little mojo to clear things up. If
we figure out what they mean, the dreams might go away." She muttered
to herself, "There must be some casting stones in here somewhere.
It's just a guess, but from the sound of it, maybe Gabriel's coming
back."

Buffy froze and laid her hand gently on her friend's arm.

"Nice guess, Will. Remind me to get you to buy me a lottery ticket
later, okay?" She whispered, recognizing the unmistakable form of a
young man up ahead, silhouetted against the bright late-day sun.

His hair was longer than she remembered, falling in loose, tousled
waves into his eyes, and the skin of his face was tanned from
exposure to sun and wind. The clothes he wore were dusty and worn
from long days on the road. He carried a tightly packed travel bag
across one shoulder.

"Hi." He smiled dazzlingly, his vibrant green eyes glued to her, and
tilted his head, allowing the gentle breeze to lift the hair out of
his face.

"You're back." She commented awkwardly, unable to find the words for
what she really wanted to say. "You look different."

More than his appearance had changed in the last three months. The
last time she had seen him, he had been morose and distant,
preoccupied with guilt over his father's death. Now, he seemed older,
stronger, his inner turmoil replaced with a sense of calm serenity.

"Yeah," his eyes went wistful for a moment, "I had some . . . things
to work out. But I'm back now. To stay."

"Well, I-it's good to have you back." She stammered, dropping her
gaze to the sidewalk. After he had left Sunnydale, she had not
expected to see him ever again. His reappearance surprised her and
she was only now regaining her composure.

"I was on my way to Uncle Rupert's, but I felt you nearby and I had
to see you first." He took her hand in both of his and smiled at
her. "Can we get together sometime?" he asked boldly, "Tonight?"

"Uh, I, um," she felt her heart start to race as his hands closed
around her slender fingers and the familiar tingle that always
accompanied his touch flowed through them. "I was supposed to go to
the Bronze with Willow. . ."

He turned to Willow, determined.

"Do you think you could go without her tonight, Willow?" he beseeched
with an endearing smile, "I'd be forever in your debt."

Willow looked to Buffy and grinned. "I guess I could schedule a
little personal time with Oz instead. Besides, I like it when people
owe me. It makes me feel special."

"Thanks, Willow. You are special." He threw his arms around her in a
quick hug, then turned to Buffy. "What do you say? Is it a date?"

"I-I don't know." She turned her eyes away from him uncertainly, "My
Mom is expecting me home early tonight." Everything was happening so
fast, she needed time to think, to regain her bearings.

"I thought you were planning on going to the Bronze tonight?" he
smiled, raising his eyebrows in question.

"I-I was." She backpedaled, "I just wasn't going to stay late, that's
all."

"Not a problem," he offered easily, "We can see the early show at the
theatre and maybe get something to eat. I promise I'll have you home
before ten. Please."

The familiar tingle in her fingers increased as he gave her hand a
soft squeeze, reminding her of the pleasant times they had once
shared.

"All right." She relented with a helpless smile, "But I get to pick
the movie, okay?"

"Deal!" he grinned, letting her hand drop and bouncing back a few
steps, "I have some things I have to do first, but I'll be by your
house to get you at around seven."

He waved goodbye and walked quickly, backwards down the sidewalk,
watching her still and grinning from ear to ear. Unintentionally, she
smiled back, caught up in his infectious good mood. She had to admit,
it was good to see him again.

* * *

A gold sports car with black painted windows whizzed along the
highway, past a huge, weather-beaten sign, which read 'Now Entering
Sunnydale' in bold, white letters.

"Oh, for cryin' out loud, Dru!" the blonde-haired vampire complained
as he steered the black windowed car through the late afternoon
traffic, "I can't believe you want to come back to this dump, after
all we've been through."

"Because this is where it all started, love." Drusilla cooed, curled
up in the passenger seat with a small crystal globe cradled in her
delicate hands. "This is where we were all together, like family.
Don't you remember, Spike?"

"Yeah, I remember." He growled petulantly.

"And when we get Angel back," she continued, oblivious to his sour
mood, "we'll all be a happy family again."

"I keep tellin' you, Pet. Angel has gone choirboy again. He won't
want to play ANY of the games you like, not like I do. This whole
trip is just a big fat waste, if you ask me."

"Not a waste." She giggled, holding the crystal orb up to her face
and staring, cross-eyed, into it. "With this, we can make him fun
again, like he used to be. Then we can all be a family again."

Spike slumped down behind the steering wheel.

"Big, happy family, yeah." He brooded, "Whoopee."

* * *

They walked out of the movie theatre and onto the street hand in
hand. It had started innocently enough. Gabriel had reached back to
straighten his seat and his fingers had brushed softly across the
back of her hand, starting the tantalizing tingling effect. Then part
way through the movie, he had leaned over to whisper something in her
ear and she had been so preoccupied with the closeness of his lips,
that she hardly noticed when he had slipped his hand over hers. Now,
she wondered with a pleased smile, if he ever intended to let it go.

"How was Giles when you saw him?" she asked, enjoying the slow,
meandering pace of their walk, "Did he miss you much?"

"Well, you know Rupert." He shrugged with a wan smile, "He was
careful to be nice, while at the same time biting back a lecture on
responsibility. He said a lot's changed in the last three months. He
told me about what happened with. . .Faith."

His jaw tightened in a shadow of his former pain. After his brief yet
tortuous encounter with Faith the last time he had been in Sunnydale,
Buffy was not surprised to see that he still held a grudge.

"It was a tough fight." She nodded sadly in response, "It's too bad
it had to end that way."

Her own last encounter with Faith had been a little confusing and
brought up a lot of 'what if's'. Buffy still occasionally wondered if
she could have done something to help her instead of putting her in a
coma.

"So, you're staying with Giles now?" she banished the memory and
tried to focus on the present.

"I dropped my bag off this afternoon." He answered with a nod, "He
wants me to move back in for good, but I don't think I will. I'd
rather find a place of my own."

"Your own place." she looked at him appreciatively, "You're really
serious about sticking around this time, aren't you?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" he arched an auburn eyebrow in her direction, "I
like it here."

They strolled in contented silence for a while, merely enjoying each
other's presence. The night air was cool and refreshing, filled with
the sweet summer scents of pollen and nectar. Finally, Buffy broke
the silence.

"You never actually said why you came back." She mentioned casually,
leaning her head against his shoulder and looking up at him as they
walked.

He was wearing a long sleeved white cotton shirt with the top button
carelessly undone and a pair of stylish, gray pants. His hard heeled,
black shoes made almost no sound as he walked.

"I imagined you'd figure that one out for yourself, by now." He
grinned, leading her around to face him, drawing her in close, and
dropping his hands down around her waist, "Guess I was wrong."

"How about giving me a hint?" she cocked her head and leaned back,
placing the palms of her hands on his chest, a token resistance to
his closeness.

He brought her hand up to his face and kissed her knuckles tenderly,
his eyes holding hers.

"I missed you." The words sounded like a bizarre echo of her
dreams. "Is that enough of a hint for you?"

"I don't know." She frowned in feigned confusion, sliding her fingers
up over his shoulders and hooking them behind his neck. "Maybe you
should give me another one."

She inhaled slowly, drawing in his familiar scent, feeling the
pleasant hum of the blood in her veins.

"A hint?" he smiled, "or a kiss?"

He bent close to her, his eyes warm and dilated. She stepped into his
embrace, her lips parted and her eyes closed.

"Well, well, well, take a look at this." A familiar, sarcastic voice
sneered, shattering the moment.

Buffy's head snapped up in alarm. Breaking away from Gabriel, she
turned to face the speaker.

A bleach-blonde haired vampire dressed in a long black coat sauntered
arrogantly into the street. Another vampire, an exotic looking woman,
following close behind him.

"Spike?" Buffy gasped, "What are YOU doing here?"

"Call it a bit of holiday, I guess. I got my Dru back, see?" The
blonde vampire smiled as his dark paramour stepped into view from
behind him, slinking seductively around his torso. "I told you I'd
get her back. Looks like you haven't been wasting any time, either,
have you? The hearth wasn't even cold and here you are with a new
flame already."

"Out with it, Spike." Buffy demanded, ignoring the barb, "I have a
feeling this isn't just a pleasure trip."

Drusilla spied Gabriel and, her eyes wide, cowered behind Spike's
shoulder, moaning fearfully.

"Spike." She whined, pointing around her lover's shoulder at
Gabriel. "It's him, Spike. The nasty boy from Prague, the one who
hurt me."

"Well, bloody Hell. I think you're right. I knew he looked familiar."
The blonde vampire spat, "Now how did a little pisher like you end up
here, of all places?"

"William the Bloody." Gabriel nodded in grave recognition, folding
his arms across his chest and glaring at the vampire, "It's been a
long time. Seems your girlfriend has recovered. How's your eye?"

Spike's hand flew instantly to the scar that marked his left eyebrow.

"Just fine." He snarled angrily, "Which is more than they'll be able
to say for you when I'm finished with you."

Gabriel cut short the vampire's bravado with a cocky smile. "I almost
killed you both the last time we met. I've matured since then and I'm
not alone this time." He glanced casually in Buffy's direction, "I
seem to recall that you've never had much luck against either of us.
How good do you think your chances are against both?"

Drusilla hissed and spat at him like an angry cat, crouching
cautiously behind Spike's arm.

"Lucky for you, we're not here for YOU." Spike sneered, "Just stopped
by to see an old friend." He bared his teeth at Buffy, "How is Angel
nowadays, anyway?"

"All your friends from around here are dead now, Spike." Buffy
quipped angrily, "And Angel is . . .gone. This is hardly the best
place to be looking for a party." She cracked her knuckles
meaningfully, "But don't get me wrong. I DO hope you're looking to
party."

Spike took a sharp step forward with a savage snarl, his face
contorted into a vampiric mask. Gabriel stepped into his path, hands
raised into fists and a grim look of warning on his face. Beside him,
Buffy was also ready for a fight.

"No, Spike, no!" Drusilla clawed fearfully at his shoulder, pulling
him back, "The nasty boy is looking at me with those terrible eyes.
He sees me, Spike! He sees how terrible I am inside!"

"Quiet down, Baby." Spike grabbed her roughly by the arms, his face
twisted with frustration as he fought to hold her still and pacify
her, "He's just a punk kid. I said, quiet down!"

Her strugglings slowed at the stern note in his voice and she calmed
somewhat.

"I see Drusilla's still a therapist's dream." Buffy observed
blithely.

"This isn't over!" the blonde vampire declared, crushing Drusilla to
his chest with one arm and guiding her with him as he backed
away. "We'll be sticking around and you better watch your back. Both
of you." He retreated cautiously into the alley he had emerged from,
Drusilla gibbering and muttering madly under the protection of his
arm.

"Should we go after them?" Gabriel watched the dark alley intently.

"No." Buffy shook her head, "I think they're done for the night.
Drusilla's probably going to need shock treatments or something. What
was she talking about? Do they know you?"

Gabriel inhaled deeply and blew out a long sigh.

"It was two and a half years ago," he began, "just after I turned
fifteen. My father decided it was time to put my skills to the test."

"I see." She nodded. She had gone through a similar experience on her
eighteenth birthday. Her powers chemically subdued, she had been
trapped in an old mansion with a psychotic vampire and forced into a
life or death struggle. She had barely escaped alive.

"He took me into Czechoslovakia, to the capital, following rumors he
hoped would lead him to the two most famous vampires in eastern
Europe. Spike and Drusilla were there, practically running the night
life. He told me it was up to me to stop them."

His lips tightened at some painful memory and his eyes went out of
focus, staring into the past.

"I turned the townspeople against them, almost had them." He clenched
his fist angrily, "But I had no idea how evil a vampire could be.
Spike got desperate, caught me off guard, and they got away. Father
told me to let them go. He said I had passed the test by defending
the people of Prague. I wouldn't have listened if I had known then
what he was really like."

Buffy laid her hand consolingly on his arm. The subject of Gabriel's
father was a touchy area, for both of them, one she preferred to
avoid for the moment. "When they showed up here two years ago,
Drusilla was weak and still recovering. They must have been running
from you."

"I guess that's why she was so happy to see me again." He commented
with a wry smile, his anger ebbing slowly.

"Yeah, well she and I have some pretty shaky history, too. She killed
a good friend of mine. If the two of them are back in town, it can
only mean trouble." Her face clouded with worry.

"They have both of us to deal with now." He placed a reassuring arm
around her shoulders, "Whatever they're up to, I'm sure we'll be able
to stop them together. What do you say I walk you home now?"

"Considering the circumstances," she watched the dark alleyway with
concern, "we should probably go straight to Giles' place and let him
know Bonnie and Clyde are back in town."

"Who?" he asked, puzzled.

"Never mind. I forget that you missed out on some of the basic
childhood necessities like TV when you were growing up." she
chuckled, "Let's just go talk to Giles."

She knitted her fingers through his, and walked beside him. After a
moment, her face screwed up in thought and she turned her head up to
look at him.

"What a minute." She considered cannily, "If you were fifteen two and
a half years ago, then that means that you're . . . younger than me."

"Yeah." He smiled in response to her astonished expression, slipping
his arm around her waist "I don't turn eighteen until September."

"I can't believe this." She muttered to herself, flabbergasted, "I've
NEVER gone out with a younger guy before."

* * *

"Damn it!" Spike snarled, smashing his fist into the wall. "Every
bleeding time! I HATE that Slayer!"

The first place they had stopped upon returning to Sunnydale had been
their old mansion lair. Finding it empty, they had quickly moved
themselves back in.

Drusilla sat on the floor, against the opposite wall, staring blankly
into the empty fireplace. A small, bedraggled, porcelain doll sat
staring just as blindly on the floor next to her. Absently, she
rolled the Orb of Thesulah back and forth across the floor between
her hands.

"He's gone, Spike." She moaned softly, "But every time I close my
eyes, I know he's watching me. He's going to tell Mummy what a bad
girl I've become."

Spike's mouth twitched in anger.

"If it wasn't for all this mystic prophecy garbage and their 'super-
powers', we'd be sitting on full bellies now and they'd be taking up
space in the city morgue." He grumbled, more to himself than to her.

His dark eyes followed the orb back and forth as it rolled between
her hands. A plan was forming in his mind and, slowly, an evil leer
bent his lips.

Crouching down before her, he pressed the tip of one finger to the
top of the orb, stopping it in mid-motion.

"What exactly did you say this little trinket was used for, Luv?" he
asked, "Transferring souls, is it?"

"Yes, Spike, it does all sorts of tasty things." She looked to him
curiously, "Miss Edith wanted me to use it on Angel, but he's gone
now and that nasty boy is here instead."

"How would you like to make him pay for what he did to us in Prague,
Pet?" he offered with a smile as he picked up the orb and held it up
to his eyes, turning it and watching the tiny motes of refracted
light flicker inside.

"What are you thinking, Spike?" she grinned, rising to her knees and
leaning in close to him. She picked up the doll in her hands and held
it in front of her face, "Miss Edith says she recognizes that look in
your eyes and she is very excited. Are we going to do something fun
together?"

"You bet your stockings, Luv." He nodded with a sly grin, "It's time
we evened the odds a little bit."

* * *

"Whoa, Summers, relax." He chuckled, "It's daytime, remember?"

"Sorry," she blew out a stressful sigh, dropping her hands to the
handles on her bags and gathering them up again, "I'm still a little
jumpy after last night."

"So it was a good date after all then, was it?" He grinned at her
unintentional allusion.

"I MEANT the vampires." She clarified with a roll of her eyes and a
smile tugging at her lips.

"Oh, so the date was no good?" he raised his eyebrows in question, "I
thought it went pretty well."

"No-ooo." She shook her head, flustered, "That's not what I meant.
The date was fine. I had a good time. It's just that the evening sort
of got overshadowed by the return of the twin terrors."

"Yeah," he agreed, "I couldn't have imagined worse timing."

"So if you had a good time last night," he stepped closer to her and
reached out, tenderly tucking a stray blonde lock behind her
ear, "can I assume that you might agree to go out with me again?"

She blushed a little at his earnest attention. She always felt that
whenever he was looking at her, it was like nothing else in the world
mattered to him. It was very flattering.

"I might consider it." She smiled, looking up into his eyes, "Of
course, you'll have to leave any old vampire pals of yours home this
time."

"I was just thinking the same thing." He replied, his eyes happily
alight.

She turned her head up, her breath soft and tantalizing across his
chin. He stared at her, openly admiring, his heart pounding in his
chest. Her bags slipped out of her hands and fell to the concrete
slabs, unnoticed. He touched his hand softly to her cheek and her
throat felt tight and dry as his lips inched ever closer to hers.

"Buffy, I've been waiting out front for almost a half an hour," Joyce
scolded, coming out through the mall doors, "Where have you-" she
froze in midstep, stunned, "-been?"

"Mom!" Buffy jolted, backing quickly away from Gabriel and turning to
face her mother. "I thought you were supposed to pick me up out
here."

Joyce looked Gabriel up and down, a trace of suspicion in her
expression.

"I'm sorry I made you wait, Mom. Don't you think we should be going
now?" Buffy nervously snatched up her bags and tugged insistently on
her mother's arm, "I know how you hate to wait around these places."

Joyce saw past her daughter's hastily erected smokescreen and kept
her attention focused on Gabriel.

"That's all right. Who's this?" she asked politely.

"Uh, he's . . . a friend." Buffy paused, her face tingling with
embarrassment, "Come on, it's getting late. Are you sure you don't
have to be somewhere?"

Joyce grew even more interested in the face of her daughter's
evasiveness. "Does your friend have a name?"

Gabriel stepped up and offered his hand. "Gabriel Giles, Miss
Summers." He smiled congenially, "Pleased to meet you."

"Giles?" She considered, taking his hand and shaking it, "You're not
related to Rupert, by any chance, are you?"

"My uncle." He nodded, his eyes smiling.

"Moomm!" Buffy implored, giving her mother's arm another tug, "I
REALLY think we should be going now."

"All right, then, Buffy." Her mother relented, "But I was just
thinking that it would be nice if we invited Gabriel over for supper
tonight. So we could all get to know each other a little better,
don't you think?"

"Uh, I don't know, Mom." Buffy hesitated, shifting uncomfortably. She
could feel the flush in her cheeks deepen. "I think he's probably too
busy to have supper with us tonight. Aren't you, Gabriel?"

"Actually, I'm finished all my errands. I'd be happy to." He smiled
wryly at the awkwardness of her situation, "How does six o'clock
sound?"

"Perfect." Joyce smiled touching her hand to his arm, "We'll see you
then."

Buffy hastily dragged Joyce back inside the mall, hoping to at least
contain the damage, pausing to shoot him a glance that promised
payback for the good-natured torment.

He smiled sweetly back at her and waved.

"See you later."

* * *

Willow carefully cut the crusts off her peanut butter and jelly
sandwich, while Xander finished the last of his own, his attention
absorbed in the pages of a magazine. Buffy paced back and forth
across the kitchen in agitation.

"So Spike and Drusilla are back together again, huh? That's not very
comforting." Willow carefully sliced off a stray piece of crust and
flicked it across the counter toward the garbage, "Kinda romantic in
a twisted sort of way, but not comforting at all."

"If they're as much fun as I remember them being, I don't see what
the problem is." he noted sarcastically, his hand unconsciously
snapping up the crust and popping it into his mouth.

Willow regarded him steadily for a moment. "Why can't you do stuff
like that when we're fighting vampires?" she asked in disbelief.

"I dunno." He shrugged apologetically, "Maybe it's a skill reserved
solely for PB and J."

"Hey, guys?" Buffy raised her hand, wiggling her fingers. "This isn't
really helping."

"Don't worry, Buffy." Willow smiled, nibbling on her
sandwich, "You've fought Drusilla and Spike before. It shouldn't be
any harder this time."

"Drusilla and Spike?" Buffy frowned, "Forget about THEM. Gabriel's
supposed to come over to my house in a little while. How am I
supposed to avoid my mother's inevitable meddling? I've already
filled my embarrassment quota for the week."

"Okay, I think I missed something." Xander looked up from his
magazine, "Gabriel's back? Here?"

"Yeah," Willow shared the exciting tidbit of gossip gleefully, "he
just appeared, right out of the blue, just like he used to."

"So what new doom did Grumpy bring with him this time?" Xander
furrowed his brow, "Lemme guess? He brought his six older brothers
along for the ride. Greed, Gluttony, Envy, Lust, Pride
and . . .and . . .I always forget these."

"Sloth." Willow supplied, "U-unless that one's supposed to be
Gabriel, in which case his last brother would be Wrath."

"No." Xander decided quickly, "From what I remember about Ol' Green
Eyes, Wrath would definitely be his deadly sin of choice. Hey, maybe
you'll get lucky, Buff, and he'll just disappear again like he did
last time."

"Right now, that almost seems like a good option." She sighed,
glancing at her watch, "Look, I better get going. Maybe if I talk
things over with Mom a little beforehand, she won't be quite so
mortifying while he's there."

"You want to Bronze it tonight?" Xander queried, catching her just as
she opened the door.

"Maybe, depends on how things go at supper." She answered, "I'll call
you. See ya."

"Bye." Willow and Xander both waved as she jogged down the driveway
for home.

"Three new arrivals in one day." Xander shook his head, "Aren't WE
just the cozy little vacation spot?"

* * *

Joyce straightened the table cloth for the fourth time and stepped
back to inspect her work.

"The good china." Buffy observed, "He's not royalty, you know, Mom."

"I guess it's just a coincidence that you're wearing your good party
dress then, is it?" She turned the table's centerpiece, a small stone
statuette, a quarter turn and frowned, considering it carefully, "You
never tell me anything about your boyfriends and I think it's time
you started."

"There's not really anything to tell." Buffy hedged, looking herself
over in a narrow, full length mirror on the wall. "A-and he's not my
boyfriend."

Joyce eyed her incredulously.

"I think." Buffy reconsidered uncertainly.

"I'm tired of feeling left out of your life, Buffy." Her mother
paused, adjusting the table cloth once again. "And if you really like
this boy, I want to be able to share it with you."

"I know, Mom." Buffy sighed, "Just, please, don't do anything to
embarrass me."

"What could I do to embarrass you?" Joyce returned, smoothing her
hands over the table cloth yet again, "All I want to do is get to
know him a little better, so I'll actually have an idea of who you're
keeping company with these days."

"That's what I'm afraid of." Buffy murmured.

Her nervousness and frustration mounted as she continued to watch her
mother fret over the tablecloth.

"Will you leave that thing alone? It's fine, Mom, trust me. A few
wrinkles aren't going to make him run away screaming." She checked
the mirror again self-consciously and rubbed petulantly at a small
series of wrinkles along the side of her dress.

The doorbell rang and both women started. Buffy reacted first,
quickly going to the door and opening it. Gabriel stood waiting with
both hands behind his back. He wore black, pleated pants and a
burgundy, V-neck shirt that accented the auburn of his hair.

"This is for you." He held out a single red rose in one hand and
smiled.

"It's beautiful." She accepted the flower gratefully and touched the
blossom against her upper lip, inhaling deeply. She luxuriated in the
sweet scent and the tickling feel of the silken petals against her
lips.

"And this is for you." He offered a second rose, this one dusky
yellow, to Joyce.

"Oh, thank you," she smiled, taking the flower in her hand, "I'll go
put this in some water and get supper. Is pasta okay with you,
Gabriel?"

"Sure."

She took the rose into the kitchen, leaving Gabriel and Buffy alone
for the moment.

"You look great." He smiled at her a little uneasily.

"Thanks. You don't look so bad yourself." She toyed nervously with
the rose, drawing it softly along the bottom edge of her lower
lip. "You want to sit down?"

She sat down at the table, laying the rose across her lap while he
took the seat opposite her.

"This isn't going to be that bad." she promised with a comforting
smile, noting his tense expression, "My Mom's a pussycat, honest."

"Oh, I'm not worried about her." he assured her, "Moms love me."

Joyce returned from the kitchen with a plate of steaming linguine in
one hand and a small glass jar containing the yellow rose in the
other. She set the plate down in front of Gabriel and placed the rose
next to the statuette centerpiece. After a short return trip to the
kitchen, she brought back two more plates and, after placing one in
front of Buffy, sat down next to her.

"So, Gabriel," she started before she even lifted her fork, "Are you
vacationing here with your parents?"

Buffy felt her stomach take a slow, sickening roll to the left and
she cringed at the question. Less than thirty seconds into the meal
and her mother was already treading on forbidden territory.

"No, I'm not on vacation. I'm here by myself, staying with my uncle."
He answered slowly, "I never knew my mother. And my father,
he . . .he passed away. . . a-a few months ago."

His features tensed with remembered pain and Buffy's heart went out
to him. She remembered how devastated he had been after his father's
death and how the pain of his loss had forced him into a three month,
self imposed quest, searching for . . . something.

"I'm sorry," Joyce apologized, disconcerted. "I had no idea."

"It's all right. I've had some time to get used to the idea." He
assured her, reaching out to finger the small statuette, "That's an
interesting sculpture. Where did you get it?"

"Oh, it's Mongolian." Joyce blurted, happy for the change in
subject, "I work at an art gallery. Sometimes, I can get certain
pieces for a discount. This one went up for sale last week. Isn't it
marvelous?"

"It's very nice." He smiled warmly, a peculiar look in his eyes, like
he was enjoying a private joke.

Buffy breathed a sigh of relief. That was one disaster narrowly
averted.

"How did you and Buffy meet?" Joyce went on, "Are you starting
college with her in the fall?"

"No." he slipped a neat bundle of noodles into his mouth and
swallowed, "Actually, I've never been to school. My father always
kept me too busy."

Joyce's fork froze, half way to her mouth.

"Excuse me?" she gaped in shock, "You've never been to school? How do
you plan to get a job?"

Buffy's respite proved all too brief and her stomach lurched back to
the right.

"I guess I'll have to work somewhere that values what I can do more
than what some piece of paper says I can do." He shrugged,
unconcerned, gathering up another forkful.

"But how much can you know if you never went to school?" Joyce
pressed, "Education is very important these days."

Buffy groaned inwardly. Of all the times for her mother to get
sanctimonious, why now?

Gabriel put his fork down and regarded Buffy's mother seriously.

"I know enough to tell you that that sculpture isn't Mongolian." He
said with a mild edge to his voice.

"What?" Joyce was taken aback.

"It's Tibetan. See those three grooves along the bottom there?" He
traced a fingertip across three, almost imperceptible lines across
the base of the statuette. "The monks used to place them on metal
tripods outside the entrances to their temples. When the Mongols
swept through the region, they collected them as trophies. Later,
they started making their own cheap imitations without the grooves.
This is probably worth a good deal more than you paid for it."

Joyce opened her mouth to say something, then shut it, too stunned to
form a coherent reply.

"I told you that I never went to school," he winked mischievously at
her, "not that I was uneducated. Could you please pass the pepper?"

"Sure." She handed the pepper grinder to him absently, a blank
expression still pasted to her face.

Buffy looked down at her plate, picking at the suddenly unappetizing
food. This was going to be the longest meal of her life.

* * *

A half hour later, Buffy stood with a damp drying towel in her hands
while Gabriel scrubbed industriously at the last of a sinkful of
dishes.

"Well it could have gone worse, I guess." Buffy lamented aloud,
accepting a dripping plate from Gabriel and drying it with the rough
dish towel. "I mean there could have been an earthquake in my living
room or something, right?"

"Don't worry about it, Buffy." He borrowed the end of her towel and
dried his hands. "Like I said, Moms love me. She'll come around."

"I don't know." She answered dubiously, "She's having a hard time
getting comfortable with the whole Slayer business, meaning that
she's not. New things sometimes bring out her insanely overprotective
side."

The kitchen door swung open and Joyce brought in the last of the
dishes. She looked to Buffy, then, uncomfortably, to Gabriel before
setting them on the counter.

A tense silence gripped the room as she paused before him, about to
speak. She seemed to be choosing her words carefully before
committing them to sound, the way a person does before delivering bad
news. Gabriel stood his ground calmly while Buffy held her breath,
waiting for yet another awkward moment to unfold.

By some stroke of divine providence, the doorbell rang. Joyce
hesitated before leaving to answer it.

"You better make a run for it now while you have the chance." Buffy
advised, leading Gabriel by the arm toward the back door. "Maybe you
can make a clean getaway under the cover of darkness."

"Buffy," he stopped, shaking his head, "I am NOT running away from
your mother. We just got off to a bad start, that's all."

"This isn't your fault." She apologized, leaning over the
sink. "She's just mad at me because of the way things went with
Angel. I know from her point of view it must have seemed pretty
horrible, but now she thinks every guy I meet is going to break my
heart."

"Well, that just proves my point." He added, his voice soft and
serious, "She doesn't know me yet."

Buffy smiled to herself, stepping a little closer to him without
realizing it. He touched the fingertips of one hand along one of her
arms. She looked up at him, breathing in deeply, her body
instinctively moving half a step closer again.

There was a sharp bang from the front room and Buffy jumped,
startled.

She quickly turned and pushed through the door into the dining room
and found the front door wide open with a note pinned to it by a thin
nail. Buffy plucked the note from the door and the blood drained from
her face as she read it.

"What is it?" Gabriel peered over her shoulder.

"Spike." She breathed fearfully, "Last time he was here, my mother
invited him in. Now, he has her."

Gabriel dashed out the door without an instant of hesitation. "Come
on, he hasn't had time to get very far. Maybe we can catch him. Where
would he take her?"

"Angel's mansion." She quickly caught up to him, "or maybe the old
factory."

"Lead the way."

* * *

Joyce struggled against the ropes that bound her to the old wooden
chair. She was positioned against the back wall of a room in Angel's
old home, not far from her two captors. One, a dark haired woman,
circled her curiously, singing softly to herself while the other
brooded impatiently, sitting backwards in his own chair. Orange light
flickered from the fireplace, casting harsh shadows about the room.

"Can I eat her, Spike?" the dark haired woman asked politely.

"Not until the Slayer shows up, Dru." Spike waggled an admonishing
finger at her, "We can't set a trap if I let you eat the bait."

"Ohhhh!" she moaned in disappointment, slumping into a chair next to
his and staring at Joyce with hunger burning in her eyes. "But she
looks so tasty."

Joyce's eyes flew wide with terror and she worked at her bonds with
frenzied energy. Spike watched her absently as she fidgeted, boredom
apparent on his face.

"Keep squirming like that and you'll only entice her." He warned
pointedly.

Joyce stopped moving instantly, her eyes darting fearfully between
her captors' faces.

"They should be here by now." Spike grumbled, rising sharply to his
feet. "You're sure you figured out the spell we need from that book
we stole from the old library? Everything is ready?"

Drusilla jerked her fingers back away from Joyce's throat and quickly
folded her hands together in her lap, looking innocently up at him.

"I put out all the party favors." She grinned, holding the Orb of
Thesulah in one hand, "But I want to cut the cake." Unconsciously,
she reached out again toward their captive.

There was a loud thump and the front door crashed open. Gabriel dove
through, rolling and coming up in the center of the room with a
wooden stake in each hand. Drusilla jumped back, hissing angrily, and
Spike moved protectively to her side.

Buffy came running through the doorway, leaping over a dusty chair
and kicking Spike in the chest, driving him back against the
fireplace.

"Mom!" she went immediately to her mother's side and started tugging
at her ropes.

"Oh, Buffy, I'm so glad to see you." Joyce leaned forward so her
daughter could get at the ropes around her wrists.

"Try and remember this the next time I ask for the car, okay?" Buffy
commented wryly as she fumbled with the tight knots.

Gabriel smashed his fist into Spike's throat and spun into a
roundhouse kick that caught the vampire in the side. The Seventh Son
reached into the fire and drew out a flaming length of wood, sweeping
it before him in a wide swath. Drusilla backed away, trembling, her
eyes locked fearfully on the burning brand. With a snarl, Spike
grabbed up a blocky end table and whipped it overhand with all his
strength. The piece of furniture bounced painfully off Gabriel's
shoulder, knocking him to the floor. The burning wood skittered
against the stone hearth and guttered down and went out.

"Come on, Dru!" Spike shouted as Gabriel hopped to his feet and
tackled him, "Quit whimpering and do the damn spell already!"

Drusilla, staring paralyzed at the combatants, snapped back to
attention. Digging the Orb of Thesulah out of her pocket, she intoned
the words to a short spell and sprinkled a handful of sand over it.
Dull yellow light flared inside the orb, casting stark shadows across
her face from below.

Buffy lost her patience with the last of the ropes binding her mother
and snapped it cleanly. Pulling her mother up, she shoved her hastily
toward the door. Joyce stumbled a few feet and hung, unsure, in the
doorway.

"Run, Mom!" Buffy shouted and turned back, coming face to face with
Drusilla.

"The candles are lit, dearie." The mad vampire giggled, "Now it's
time to blow them out."

She tossed the orb and Buffy instinctively caught it in her hands.
The light inside it flared brightly and a wave of disorienting
weakness washed over her. She dropped weakly to one knee with a
groan, the orb slipping from her fingers and rolling away along the
floor. At the same time, Drusilla stumbled dizzily and collapsed
against the wall with a squeak.

Spike wrestled out of Gabriel's tenacious grip and saw her fall.

"Dru!" he cried, backhanding Gabriel viciously and scrambling to his
lover's side.

"Buffy!" Gabriel and Joyce both cried out.

Gabriel ran to Buffy as she sank the rest of the way to the floor,
and squared off with Spike, bracing himself, his hands open and
ready. Spike matched his stance, rage burning in his eyes, but made
no move. Between them, Drusilla and Buffy lay side by side, dazed and
weak.

"I'm within a foot of bagging my third Slayer." Spike glared at him,
inching dangerously close to Buffy.

"And I'm within a foot of finishing what I started in Prague."
Gabriel bared his teeth threateningly, ready to intercept him.

"Then it looks like we've got a stalemate." Spike crouched slowly and
gathered Drusilla into his arms.

"For now." Gabriel agreed darkly, mirroring his movements and
scooping up Buffy's limp form.

Both men backed carefully away from one another, each holding his
respective interest in his arms and keeping his eyes locked warily on
the other. Gabriel paused in the open doorway, Joyce standing just
behind him.

"This isn't over." He promised, his eyes narrowed angrily.

"Yeah, whatever, punk." Spike sneered condescendingly as he and
Drusilla retreated deeper into the mansion.

Gabriel backed out the door, curling Buffy's half-conscious body
against his chest and tugging on Joyce's sleeve with one finger.

"We'd better get you to my uncle's place." he advised, "You'll be
safe there."

* * *

Giles walked across the kitchen and took the steaming teapot off the
stove. Gabriel and Buffy were in the next room relaxing on an antique
couch, leaving him and Joyce alone.

"Would you care for more tea?" Giles offered, as he poured himself
another cup.

"Yes, please." Joyce answered from her seat at his kitchen table. As
he refilled her cup, she wrapped her hands around it and let the
warmth seep into her palms. "I guess I won't have to worry about the
caffeine keeping me awake."

"No," he agreed, replacing the pot on the stove, "I imagine not. I
still can't believe that Spike would attempt something so bold
without a particular reason. Are you sure you don't remember anything
that might shed some light on this?"

"I don't think so." Joyce frowned, "It all happened so fast. After
that woman knocked Buffy out, we ran and came straight here." She
paused to peer into the next room at her daughter sitting on the
couch, resting her head against Gabriel's shoulder, subdued and
quiet. "I hope she'll be all right."

"I'm sure she'll recover in no time." Giles assured her, taking the
seat opposite her, "This was probably just a bit of a fright, that's
all."

"Well, it was certainly frightening for me." She sighed and took a
tentative sip of her tea.

"Of course, both of you will stay here until we can revoke Spike's
invitation to your home. I'll take the couch and Gabriel can set up
the cot for himself. You and Buffy can take our rooms. After tonight,
we could all use the rest."

As he sipped from his teacup, he glanced into the next room at his
nephew.

"How do you feel?" Gabriel stroked his fingertips through Buffy's
soft blonde hair as she curled drowsily against his shoulder.

"Drained." She answered tiredly, "And my head is killing me. Is-is
Mom okay?"

"Yeah," he smiled, "She's in the kitchen with Uncle Rupert. Probably
a bit shaken up, but that's all. You took a bad fall back there." He
watched her with concern, "What happened?"

"I don't know." She squinted, holding her head, "Drusilla threw this
glowing ball at me and when I caught it, I felt like I was being
yanked out of my body. Then I snapped back and everything went all
blurry."

She struggled to sit up, but her body did not want to comply. After
two unsuccessful efforts, she surrendered and sat back against him.

"I feel so weak." She rubbed gingerly at her temples. "And my
head . . .it feels like somebody put a blender between my ears and
turned it on frappe."

"Here, let me see if I can help." He took her hand in both of his and
began tracing a fingertip softly along her palm.

"What are you doing?" she inhaled sharply, feeling the electric
tingle of his touch all the way up the length of her arm.

"Acupressure." He smiled, drawing a second caressing fingertip slowly
back from her wrist to the center of her palm. "It will make you feel
better. Is that okay?"

"I-I guess so." She leaned her head against his shoulder and allowed
her eyes to sag shut as his careful ministrations evoked relaxing
waves of calm within her.

Tracing his two fingers along the inside of her forearm, he nestled
them softly into the crook of her elbow and pressed down slightly.

"Ouch!" she exclaimed, sitting up slightly and her eyes snapping
open, "That . . .feels nice."

"I TOLD you." He reminded her with a wry smile, "Now relax or you'll
mess up your meridians."

"I hate it when that happens." she mocked quietly, laying her head
against his shoulder and allowing her eyes to close again with a
contented smile.

He continued to move his fingertips up along the outside of her arm,
pressing down and holding at strategic points, until he reached her
neck.

"This s'posed to m'k me sleepy?" she mumbled with a slurred, drowsy
voice as he massaged the base of her skull and the back of her neck.

"Yeah," he whispered gently into her ear. "But I bet you don't have a
headache anymore, do you?"

She rolled toward him and pressed her face sleepily against his
chest. "Mmmm, I like my meridians."

He sat with her for a long time, calmly stroking his fingers through
her hair until her breathing slowed and he was sure she had fallen
asleep. Carefully, he slipped out from under her slumbering body and
eased her into a comfortable position. He smiled softly as she
stirred and mumbled something unintelligible under her breath. She
looked so beautiful sleeping soundly like this. But his heart grew
heavy as he looked more closely, focusing his special vision.

He walked to the kitchenette's doorway and hovered there uneasily.
Joyce and his uncle were carrying on a subdued conversation over tea.
The pot sat almost empty on a cool burner of the stove.

"Uncle, could I have a word with you?" he asked quietly.

"How is Buffy? Is she all right?" He handed his nephew a lukewarm
cup, which he accepted gratefully. "Here, have some tea."

"She's fine. She finally went to sleep just a minute ago." Gabriel
took a long swallow of his tea, stress and exhaustion showing on his
face.

"What about you?" Giles inquired, "Joyce said Spike gave you a bit of
a drubbing."

"Nothing serious. Just a bruised shoulder." He replied nonchalantly,
although Giles could see that the joint was already stiff and
swollen, "I would have dusted him if we didn't have to escape at the
last minute like that."

"Spike is not an easy kill, as I'm sure you know. We'll get him one
of these days." Giles sympathized, "Are you sure your shoulder is
alright?"

"It'll be fine in a day or two." He assured him, "But that's not what
I'm worried about."

"What is it?" Joyce looked at him, concern tensing her features, "Is
something wrong?"

"I looked at Buffy, I mean REALLY looked at her, and it was like she
was just an ordinary girl." He looked to his uncle gravely, "Her
powers are gone."

"What do you mean, 'gone'?" Giles exclaimed, stunned.

"I mean gone, as in no longer in her possession." Gabriel
clarified, "Someone's stolen them. And I'll give you three guesses on
who."

"Dear God, you don't think Drusilla. . .?" Giles considered
grimly, "This is terrible."

"What?" Joyce's expression shifted from concern to a mixture of fear
and near-hysterical confusion, "What's terrible?"

Giles slipped his glasses off and pinched the bridge of his nose with
a strained sigh.

"When a human with extraordinary potential like Buffy or Gabriel
becomes a vampire, he or she is transformed into being of great
power." He took a sip of his tea with a shaky hand, "These 'Master
Vampires', as they are called, are atrocious engines of destruction.
I've only ever encountered one in my life and his power had been
crippled, thank heaven."

"But Drusilla wasn't born with the power." Gabriel frowned in
thought, "She couldn't just change into a master vampire just like
that, could she?"

"I don't know." Giles shook his head, "There are too many variables.
I've never even heard of this type of thing ever having happened
before. Who knows what effect a Slayer's power would have when
infused into a vampire body?"

* * *

"I can feel the whole world inside my head, Spike." Drusilla grinned,
her eyes closed, as she spun in slow circles around the room with her
arms spread wide.

They were in the old bedroom they had occupied while they were living
in the mansion alongside Angelus. Drusilla's worn and bedraggled doll
lay lifeless on the bed, its limbs spread haphazardly. Spike leaned
with his back against the wall, next to a black-painted window,
watching his dark lover curiously.

"You're sure it worked, then?" His eyes followed her erratic
movements eagerly. "I thought you might have been done for after you
were knocked flat like that."

"I never knew it could be like this. So much power." She caught the
doll by its tattered dress as she spun and carried it along with
her. "Miss Edith thinks that it looks very becoming on me, don't you
agree Spike?"

"Everything looks good on you, Luv." He smiled.

"Hmmmmhhh," she sighed, pleased at the compliment, "I can see things
now, Spike, things that were never there before. The air is sparkling
right in front of my eyes."

She crouched facing into the corner, crossing her eyes at a small,
shiny black spider as it crawled about in its web.

"Look," she whispered, noting a small, struggling fly trapped in the
web, "It's feeding time. I can hear it screaming, like a tiny bell in
my head."

"What say we go test out your new powers, Dru," He suggested, subtly
easing her away from the tiny display of carnage. If left alone, she
would have stayed there entranced for hours. "We can scare up
something for US to eat."

Drusilla's hand shot out faster than his eye could follow and grabbed
him roughly by the hair on the back of his head. Pulling him close
with a steely grip, she wrapped her arm tightly about his waist,
pinning his upper limbs. Leering, she bent his head to the side and
exposed the length of his neck, her face transformed into a vampiric
mask.

"Um, Dru," Spike struggled uselessly against her incredible strength,
a worried quaver in his voice, "this isn't what I meant."

"What's the matter, Spike?" she pressed her cheek close to his ear
and drew her pointed teeth across the tender skin of his neck. "Don't
you like it when I'm hungry for you?"

Carrying him easily with one hand, she dragged him up and tossed him
back across the old bed, crawling eagerly up on top of him. With a
lascivious grin, she tore open the front of his shirt and caressed
the palms of her hands roughly against his chest.

"Drusilla!" he exclaimed in amazement, "I haven't seen you like this
for ages!"

"Quiet, Spike!" she grabbed each of his wrists and pinned them
roughly over his head, burying her face in his neck, "I'll tell you
when you can speak."

"I can't believe this." He marveled quietly to himself as she nipped
and giggled against him, "I'm about to get shagged by the Slayer."

* * *

Birds chirped happily and the sun beamed with beautiful warmth as
Buffy, Gabriel, Xander and Willow made their way purposely down the
street. Each of them carried a bag stuffed with weapons, consisting
mainly of sharpened wooden stakes and holy water.

"Let me get this straight," Xander scratched his head in
confusion, "You lost your powers last night and now you WANT to find
vampires? Does Giles know you're doing this?"

"I told him we were going over to Willow's, which was true." She said
over her shoulder, "I just didn't mention where we were going
afterward."

"So where ARE we going?" he reached inside his bag and withdrew a
stake, "Judging by the toys you two brought over, I'm guessing it's
no place fun."

"Spike and Drusilla have set up shop in their old stomping grounds.
They probably moved to a new lair by now," Buffy surmised as they
approached Angel's old mansion, "but we might get lucky and catch
them."

"Forgive me if I don't consider that lucky." He spread his hands and
shrugged helplessly.

"Xander's right." Gabriel touched his hand to her shoulder, "Are you
sure you want to do this?"

"Yes," she asserted a little testily, pressing onward regardless, "I
thought we went over this when you agreed to come with me. Powers or
not, this is still my responsibility."

"I thought you'd say something like that." He smiled appreciatively
at her.

"So that explains why you called us for back-up." Willow reasoned,
mounting the first step up to the mansion's front door, "And the need
for a daytime raid. But why such a big rush? You said yourself that
Spike and Drusilla aren't going anywhere. Shouldn't we wait until
Giles finds a way to get your powers back?"

The door hung slightly ajar, it's frame broken from when Gabriel had
burst through the night before.

"They took my mother last night, Will." Buffy flicked the door open
with her toe and poked her head inside, "We got her back, but I'm not
going to give them the chance to try anything like that again."

Gabriel held the door while Buffy entered with Xander and Willow
close behind. He followed and, together, they slowly combed the
ground level, opening each door and looking inside.

"Nothing." Buffy's mouth turned down as she opened the last
door. "Upstairs, anyone?"

"I'll go first." Gabriel readied a stake and started up the
stairs. "If Spike is up there, he's mine."

Buffy readied herself for action as he turned the knob on the first
door and threw it open. Her eyes went wide as she saw the condition
of the bedroom.

"Whoa, what happened HERE?" Xander gawked over her shoulder.

The room was a shambles. The bedsheets had been shredded and there
were long, deep claw marks gouged out of the wall near the headboard.
One of the pillows had been cast aside into the closet while the
other had apparently been ripped apart, leaving a scattering of
feathers everywhere.

Buffy's face screwed up into a distasteful expression as realization
dawned on her.

"Ew. Ew. Ew." She repeated in disgust as she fled in a flurry of
short steps for the front door. "Maybe I should have listened to you
guys and just stayed away from this place. I think I'm scarred for
life now."

"What?" Xander raised his eyebrows as Gabriel and Willow hurried to
catch up with her. He gestured confusedly to the disheveled
room. "You mean Drusilla? And Spike? Man, even the undead get more
trim than I do!"

The four quickly exited the mansion and emerged into the warm, sunny
outdoors.

"Well, That was a bust." Buffy lamented, "What now?"

"Might I suggest that we put our vampire worries on the back shelf
for now and do something fun for a change." Xander hefted his bag in
one hand, "Maybe something that doesn't involve weapons?"

"I don't know . . ." Buffy hedged uncertainly.

"Oh, come on!" Xander playfully slapped a hand to her
shoulder. "It'll get your mind off things."

"Like the fact that I'm powerless now?" Buffy stopped and looked at
him seriously.

"Powerless?" Xander choked, "Who's worried about that? I mean it's
not like there are two psycho vampires back in town, right?"

The other three turned their gazes on him skeptically.

"Right." He nodded agreeably, "I'm shutting up."

Gabriel took Buffy's hand in his.

"We'll get your powers back." He assured her, "I promise. But the
chances of finding Spike and Drusilla again are next to nothing
unless they show their faces again. Maybe a little recreation
wouldn't be such a bad idea right now."

She smiled and her face relaxed. The tone of his voice was so
confident. She found it very calming and reassuring.

"I guess you're right." She considered, "Hey, it's the summer, I'm
supposed to be having fun, right?"

"That's the spirit!" Willow chirped. "But what do you want to do?"

"It's getting pretty hot." Gabriel squinted up at the bright blue
sky, "Is there any place to swim around here?"

"Yeah, Misty Falls." Xander suggested, "It's this secret place I know
about. It's over by the-"

"No!" Willow blurted, cutting him off, "XanDERR!

"Oh, come off it, Will." He scoffed, "That was like ten years ago.
Besides, I'm sure it's still not alive anymore."

"It that EVER the wrong thing to say in the proximity of a
Hellmouth." Buffy reminded him, her face clouded with worry.

"Is there something there, Willow?" Gabriel asked, "It sounds like
such a nice place."

"So do Sunnydale and Greenland," Buffy snorted, smirking, "but what's
in a name?"

"Will you guys relax?" Xander raised his palms, "There's nothing
beastly at the falls. At least nothing of Hellmouth proportions." He
looked dubiously in Willow's direction, "It was just a frog."

Buffy and Gabriel both visibly calmed.

"Guess we can gear down from combat mode." Buffy chuckled, prodding
Willow teasingly.

"Whuh, well, it was really BIG!" Willow insisted, "A-and it . . .it
jumped!"

"I promise we'll leave the minute we see anything green and slimy."
Buffy assured her.

* * *

Spike pried himself out from under Drusilla's sleeping form. Naked,
he slid off the cold stone slab and maneuvered his aching body over
to the doors of the old mausoleum. Outside, he could feel that there
was still a lot of daylight left to burn. Damn, he hated the summer.

His skin was covered in scratches and shallow nip marks, stinging
from hours of mistreatment. He smiled to himself, remembering the
night's surprising turn of events, as he turned and watched Drusilla
twitch and fidget fitfully atop the cold stone crypt. To his
knowledge, she had never slept before, nor had any other vampire he
had ever known.

I wonder what she's dreaming about?, he thought.

Drusilla spread her arms and flexed her fingers. She was a giant,
towering above everyone around her. One by one, she picked them up
and dropped them down her gullet like an enormous bird. As she ate,
the world grew smaller until she was as big as a mountain. She noted
a storm taking shape on the horizon, a red, fiery cloud that
approached her at the speed of sound. She grinned and opened her jaws
wide to draw the fire inside herself and consume it. Like she would
consume everything, in time.

The fire drew up short of her, cautiously, as if sensing her
intention. She giggled, reveling in her newfound power, and the stars
in the sky overhead sang her name. The firestorm reared and took on
the shape of a man, a pair of green eyes with a halo of gold forming
where its face should have been.

Drusilla recoiled from those eyes, fearing what they saw in her. The
fiery form closed on her and her fear turned to rage. Diving forward,
she grabbed hold of her opponent and bore it down onto the uneven
countryside. Huge clods of earth flew into the air and her undead
flesh seared and smoked wherever it contacted the fiery warrior. She
held on tenaciously, like a rabid dog, driving her enemy down into
the earth with her body, smothering its flame.

The world went dark and she was underground now, in the depths of a
burial crypt. The being in her arms had changed, becoming sensuous
and frightening at the same time. It was Spike she wrestled with now,
thrashing and writhing against her like a wild animal. He struggled
to resist her, his piercing eyes becoming gold on green. She toyed
with him, enjoying his pathetic struggles, knowing that she could
overpower him at any time. Pinning his head to the floor, she bit
deeply into his exposed throat and gorged on a rush of hot blood. The
blood filled her with unimaginable ecstasy, tingling excitingly
through her limbs. She drank deeply until the body she gripped so
tightly collapsed in on itself, shriveling into nothing under her.

She awoke with a terrible hunger, her eyes snapping open like
shutters, perfectly able to see in the pitch dark. She crawled to her
knees and leaned over the edge of the cold crypt, a low throaty growl
sounding from deep inside her.

"Spii-iike." She beckoned with a lilting sing-song voice.

Spike recognized the hungry look in her eyes and backed himself into
a corner.

"Oh no, Pet," he groaned, "Not again. What do you think I am, a
bloody machine?!"

Grinning playfully, she yowled like a cat and leaped on him, pinning
his naked body to the floor.

* * *

Buffy trudged down the well-used path and stepped onto a long bed of
warm sand on the edge of a freshwater lake. She wore a blue one-piece
bathing suit with a light sarong knotted around her hips and brown
leather sandals on her feet.

Xander and Gabriel came next. Gabriel was wearing only a plain white
t-shirt and a pair of cut-off jeans with his towel draped casually
across his shoulders. His sandals were worn and beaten from long days
and nights of travel, but were very comfortable. Xander had on a pair
of dark sunglasses and a bright, Hawaiian style shirt, left
unbuttoned and hanging open. His shorts were faded blue and criss-
crossed with old paint marks. He had a small water bottle wrapped up
in his towel and slung over his shoulder like a hobo's travel pack.

Willow came next, dressed in a pair of overall shorts and a bright
pink bathing suit underneath, embroidered with a small, cute cartoon
character and a wide brimmed hat on her head. In one hand, she
carried a mid-sized travel cooler filled with juice and snacks packed
by her mother and, in the other, she dragged a collapsible beach
umbrella behind her. A brimming carry-all hung heavily from the crook
of her elbow.

"Your secret place, huh, Xander?" Buffy cocked her head skeptically.

Xander looked up and down at the mass of sunbathers, mostly families
with their children. Someone had gone through the trouble to truck in
a massive amount of sand and spread it over the shoreline of one side
of the lake, transforming it into a beach-like setting, a fact that
had apparently not gone unnoticed by the people of Sunnydale.

"I guess all those cars parked on the side of the road WERE for
here." He sighed, "NOW, what do we do?"

"Hey," Willow frowned looking down the other side of the
beach, "Isn't that Anya?"

"Huh?" Xander turned around, craning his neck.

A young, dark-haired girl stalked down the beach with a scowl on her
face and a rapidly melting ice cream cone in her hand.

"Is your father a thief?" she muttered to herself in a hollow idiot's
voice, "Because he must have stolen the stars and put them in your
eyes. Sheesh, like I haven't heard that one before. Humans can be
such. . .such. . .-Xander!"

She stopped short with surprise, almost bumping into him.

"Anya, what are you doing here?" he exclaimed, looking her over. "I
wouldn't have taken you for a beach person."

The dark haired girl wore a pair of khaki shorts and a tight yet
attractively modest white tank top.

"I'm not." She explained, holding her dripping cone away from her
body, "I came for the ice cream. They move the stand off the
boardwalk and up here on the hot days."

She attempted to take a taste and found it had melted halfway down
her hand. With a disgusted face, she dropped the sloppy ice cream
onto the ground and kicked sand over it.

"My stuff is farther up. There's enough room for you guys too if you
want." She offered, busily licking the melted ice cream off her
fingers.

"Gwuh?" Xander's jaw hung open and his eyes were blank, mesmerized by
her unintentionally seductive action.

"Geez, guys never fail to amaze me!" Buffy rolled her eyes, "How can
ice cream be THAT sexual?"

She turned and noted Gabriel staring at Anya with an intense look in
his eyes.

"What are YOU looking at?" she asked in a warning tone, prodding his
arm sharply.

"Get back." He stepped between the three of them and Anya, "There's
something wrong with her. I think she's a demon."

Anya's face soured.

"Oh, great, a Seventh Son, just what I need." She groaned, "Where did
they pick YOU up? I hoped I'd never run into one of you self-
righteous busybodies again. Yes, I am, or was, a demon called
Anyanka. But now I'm trapped in human form until I die. Sucks, huh?"

"Anyanka?" he frowned, puzzled, "The patron of women scorned? I
thought your kind were dying out?"

"We are." She sighed, shrugging helplessly, "Seems today's woman is a
lot better at exacting her OWN vengeance. Which doesn't leave much
work for me. Now are you guys coming or not?"

She stepped past him and started irritably up the beach. Looking to
each other and shrugging helplessly, the four followed.

"This is it." Anya indicated a small area of sand that was clear of
other beachgoers.

"Finally." Xander dropped his towel to the sand and slipped his shirt
off his shoulders.

"Do you think there's enough room for all five of us?" Willow asked
skeptically, taking stock of her extensive accessories.

"Sure." Anya took hold of Xander's arm, "You can sit next to me."

He sank down next to her, mildly bewildered.

"I think I'll just keep moving. I'd like to get a closer look at the
falls." Gabriel softly brushed a fingertip inconspicuously along the
length of Buffy's forearm, "Anyone want to come along?"

"That'd be great! I'd love to-" Willow brightened, then noticed Buffy
watching her expectantly, "- stay right here. Yup, I'll just sit
right here and get some sun."

Digging her umbrella into the sand, she sat down carefully on her
towel under its shade. She slipped on a pair of sunglasses and
adjusted her wide-brimmed hat. Digging into her carry bag, she took
out a squeeze bottle of sunscreen and began liberally coating her
arms, lower legs and the tops of her feet, the only exposed skin she
had.

"SPF 80?" Xander cocked an eyebrow, "I didn't even know they made
this stuff. What are you Will, a vampire?"

"Oh, no." she denied as if he were being serious, "I just like to be
cautious, that's all. My skin is very sensitive."

"We'll be near the falls if anyone needs us." Gabriel called,
slipping his hand around Buffy's and starting toward the falls.

"Yeah, bye." Anya commented, uninterested.

* * *

Gabriel watched the water flow out of the calm pool and over the
rocky edge with interest. It wasn't very big as far as waterfalls
went, but it was nice. He could still easily make out the forms of
Xander, Willow and Anya down on the beach.

"It's such a beautiful day." Buffy leaned her head back and closed
her eyes as she lay on her pink and yellow towel, basking in the
bright sunshine. "It almost makes you forget that there are vampires
and demons out there just waiting for the sun to go down."

"Demons usually don't mind the sun." Gabriel commented blithely as he
pulled his shirt off over his head and waded into the chill water.

"Yeah, thanks for reminding me." She replied, tilting her head up and
watching him surreptitiously.

"You coming in?" he looked over his shoulder, his arms held tightly
against his body, shivering.

"You look like you're going to die from hypothermia." She raised a
shapely eyebrow, "I don't think so. I'm just going to lay out for a
bit."

She laid back on her towel and fidgeted until she was comfortable on
the grassy slope.

"Suit yourself." He dove into the water with an intentionally heavy
splash.

Buffy screamed as a shower of cold water droplets cascaded across her
body. She sat up swiftly, a sharp retort on her lips, but, upon
seeing his outline efficiently cutting through the icy water beneath
the surface, held it. She watched as he swam to the far side of the
pool, then took a sharp turn in the opposite direction of the falls,
all without rising to take a breath.

She settled back onto her towel and rolled over onto her stomach,
resting her chin on her hands. Allowing her eyes to sag half shut,
she continued to watch him through slitted lids. She still could not
believe how different he seemed now. Different, and yet very much the
same. Her mind wandered back to the time when she had first met
Gabriel, three months ago.

There had been an undeniable attraction between them from the start.
As Slayer and Seventh Son, they had much in common, but circumstances
had kept them apart. Just as things had started to get interesting,
he had left Sunnydale and she had thought she would never see him
again. A splash in the water caught her attention and she smiled
slightly to herself as he broke the surface and flashed her a quick
grin before diving under again.

Whatever had happened with him over the last few months had brought
about a dramatic change in his disposition. It was as if all the pain
he had been carrying around with him had just faded away. Now he
exuded an aura of inner calm and serenity, like he'd become a whole
new person. She relaxed and closed her eyes completely, thinking of
how safe and comfortable it felt to be around him and, tentatively,
considered the possibilities of the future.

Gabriel reemerged from the water, refreshed and invigorated. Slicking
his wet hair back out of his face, he walked up the shoreline to
where Buffy lay.

"Don't even THINK about dripping on me." She warned without opening
her eyes as his shadow fell across her.

Smiling pleasantly, he knelt down next to her.

"What have you been smiling about up here?" he asked with curious
interest, "Were you watching me?"

"How could I be watching you?" she evaded, feigning indignation, "My
eyes were closed the whole time."

Shrugging knowingly to himself, he quickly toweled off, rubbing his
hair to only mild dampness.

"Come here." He said, dropping his towel and tugging on her hand, "I
want to show you something."

He helped her to her feet and led her by the hand down to the water's
edge. Crouching, he pointed to a quiet corner of the pool where a few
small insects skittered across the surface.

"Do you see that?' he asked, smiling faintly.

"Water bugs?" she shrugged, confused, "Didn't you have those in
Europe?"

"Not the bugs. Take off your sandals and step on my feet." He
directed, standing with his feet together.

"What?" she looked at him quizzically.

"Just do it." He pleaded gently, "You'll find out what I mean."

She hesitated, unsure of getting so close to him, especially when
they were both only partially clothed. He took her by the hands and
guided her in front of him so that she was facing away, her heels
just in front of his toes. She could feel a soothing, radiant warmth,
like the heat of the sun, emanating from his skin. Slipping out of
her sandals, she stepped back carefully onto his feet.

"Are you sure about this?" she queried dubiously, positioning herself
unsteadily, trying not to put too much pressure on his feet.

"Trust me." He assured her, gently steadying her with his hands on
her hips.

She inhaled softly, breathing in the pleasant, exotic scent that
always seemed to cling to him. Her pulse quickened and her breathing
became shallow as she felt the familiar tingling in her skin that his
closeness always evoked.

"Now, hold very still." He whispered, slowly transferring his hands
to the top of her head.

His touch was gentle and deliberately careful as he positioned his
palms on her head, his fingers interlaced at the top. Since Drusilla
had stolen her powers, she had felt unsure and a bit lost, but his
presence strengthened and comforted her. Standing this close to him,
she felt protected, safe in the knowledge that he was there for her.
She clasped her hands on his forearms, but resisted the urge to lean
back against him. Sun and significant boy simultaneously touching her
skin was an unusual occurrence, a little strange for her.

"Let all that is between my hands and my feet be within my power." He
whispered almost inaudibly, "Let all that is between my hands and my
feet be within my power."

"What are you doing?" she started to turn under his hands.

"Wait." He shifted, holding her still, "And watch."

He continued to repeat the phrase monotonously as if it was a mantra
and, slowly, she started to feel something. Her body shuddered a
little and she gasped as a flow of faintly prickling warmth flowed
into her head and feet, filling her body and meeting in her middle.
She closed her eyes as her every nerve ending flared with sensitivity
and her mind opened up to the world around her, bathing her in a sea
of sensation. Behind her, Gabriel's body went rigid and his breathing
slowed and became tight.

"Look at the water." He muttered, concentrating, "Tell me what you
see."

She obeyed, opening her eyes and looking at the pool again.
Everything looked strangely intricate and beautiful to her now. It
was like the world suddenly possessed an exciting new dimension, like
nothing she had ever seen before. She could sense all the tiny
creatures that lived within the pool and understood, for no apparent
reason, that the water was clean and safe.

"What's happening?" Buffy whispered, awestruck, "Why does everything
look so . . .deep?"

"You're seeing with my Second Sight." He explained softly, "If I
concentrate, I can channel it into other people. See that aura around
your reflection? It's like gold fire, isn't it?"

She focused her eyes on the water's surface and the reflection of
Gabriel and herself. His lean, muscled body made an impressive
silhouette, outlined in an aura of shifting green and gold light
rays. Her own shape was limned with an attractive profile of bright,
pure gold, licking around her like tiny flames.

"You mean this is what you see all the time?" she marveled,
awestruck, "It's beautiful."

"Usually only when I try." He smiled warmly, leaning forward over her
shoulder and touching his cheek to hers, "And you're right, it is
beautiful."

Her chest tightened with desire and she felt herself drawn to him.
Turning her head, she found her lips hovering temptingly close to
his. He closed his eyes and smiled, reaching for her eagerly.
Catching sight of their reflections one more time out of the corner
of her eye, she turned away from him sharply in surprise.

"What's that?" she pointed quickly to the water.

"What?" he opened his eyes, a little confused, his mouth still
reaching for hers.

"Look." she directed, pointing to the water.

Looking at the water's surface, he realized immediately what she was
talking about. Almost invisible against the reflection of the bright
summer sky, a thin tendril of gold stretched out from Buffy's aura in
an unerringly straight line down into the north end of town, close to
the largest of its cemeteries.

He eased her off his feet and stared at her, picking out the
shimmering line of gold easily now. He wondered how he could have
missed it in the first place.

"We have to tell Rupert about this." he stated worriedly.

* * *

Giles paced back and forth across his living room in agitation while
Gabriel leaned back against one of the walls with his arms folded
tightly over his chest. Buffy sat on the edge of a plush chair,
watching her mother grow more and more tense without knowing why.
Joyce was still at the apartment even though the uninviting ritual on
her house had already been performed that morning. She felt she had
found an ally in Giles now that he was in much the same situation
with Gabriel as she was with Buffy and valued the solidarity.

Giles stopped pacing and looked to his nephew, "So what you're saying
is that her powers haven't been stolen, only siphoned in some way?"

"That appears to be the case." Gabriel nodded grimly.

"Can't something be done to just cut the connection?" Joyce was doing
her best to follow what was being said.

"I'm afraid it's more complicated than that." Giles scratched his
head, uneasily.

"No, Mom's right." Buffy stood quickly, "Why can't we just cut
Drusilla off? As long as my powers aren't being drained, I should get
them back, right?"

"I wish that were true." Giles shook his head softly, "But from what
you and Gabriel have told me it sounds like the bulk of your power
has already been transferred. If we cut the connection now, it may
remain with Drusilla for good."

"So how do we reverse the faucets?" Buffy queried.

"Well, I-I-I've been thinking about what happened to you last night."
Giles considered, touching a fingertip to his temple in concentration
as he spoke, "You're sure Drusilla used an Orb of Thesulah, correct?"

"Either that or a fancy snoglobe." she cocked her head wryly.

"But you said it didn't disappear after the spell was cast." He
reasoned, "Most often, an Orb is consumed by the power it channels.
Unless. . ."

"Unless what, Giles?" she was usually pretty good at following his
deductions, but this time he had lost her.

"Unless the orb is acting as a conduit, draining your power away." He
concluded. "Yes, that's the only explanation."

"So all I have to do is get the orb back?" she speculated.

"We'll have to work out some way of redirecting the flow of power,"
he pursed his lips, the gears already working in his mind, "but
that. . .seems to be the idea."

Gabriel's head snapped up and he pushed off the wall. He seemed to be
staring at something invisible in the air.

"It's moving." He said ominously, "And that means Drusilla is, too."

"You mean this . . .this thread that you've been seeing?" Giles drew
aside the curtain and looked at the half sunken sun, "How could she
be moving? The sun hasn't completely set yet."

"Yeah, I know, but she is definitely moving." His eyes darkened and
his jaw set with a hard edge, "And where Drusilla goes, so does
Spike."

"Gabriel, I know you've had some past . . . issues with Spike," he
watched his volatile nephew carefully, "but please, don't allow this
to become a personal vendetta."

"Not a problem, Uncle." Gabriel assured the older man unconvincingly,
as he started quickly stuffing a handful of stakes into a kit
bag, "The objective is to regain Buffy's powers. But if Spike gets a
heartfull of stake in the process, you won't see me crying about it."

"So what's the plan?" Buffy hoisted her own bag of weapons and
slipped it over her shoulder.

"You are NOT going." Giles and Joyce declared together.

Gabriel and Buffy looked to one another with raised eyebrows.

"Gabriel, tell her to stay here." Joyce pleaded, "She'll listen to
you. You're a Slayer, too, aren't you?"

"Actually, I'm not. And she's not going to listen to me, anyway."
Gabriel replied with a helpless shrug, "Besides, I think she SHOULD
be there."

"What?" Joyce sat back in her chair, stunned.

"If she's going to get her powers back, she'll have to get her hands
on both the orb and Drusilla." He explained, "I can't exactly carry
them both home with me."

Joyce began to protest, but Giles cut her off.

"Gabriel's right, I'm afraid." He asserted gravely, "She must regain
her powers, there is no question of that. If not for her own sake,
then at least to deprive Drusilla of them. Who knows what's been
happening with her since last night."

"Well then," Buffy commented with a wry smile, "the discussion
portion of our show is apparently finished, now it's time to move on
to the physical competition."

She nodded to Gabriel, who followed her to the door.

"You're not going to seriously let him take her with him, are you
Rupert?" the pitch of Joyce's voice heightened with stress. "Rupert?"

Giles spread his hands, silent and helpless, and sank into his chair.

"Don't wait up." Buffy piped sweetly, closing the door behind them.

* * *

Buffy skipped quickly down the walkway from Giles apartment, keeping
up with Gabriel's driven pace.

"Wow, that's two for two with my Mom, now." she observed, "You're
really determined to get her to hate you, aren't you?"

"She was wrong." He said plainly, "I wasn't trying to argue with her.
I just told her what I thought."

"A little reminder for future dealings with her." Buffy
advised, "Speaking your mind is the shortest path to fightland. I'd
prefer it if you two didn't end up locking horns every time you meet.
Think of it as a stress reducer for me."

"Relax." He laid a comforting hand across her shoulders, "I told you,
Moms love me."

"Then she sure has a funny way of showing it."

* * *

Drusilla sauntered down the middle of the street, draining the blood
from the body of a lean, uniformed policeman, the last rays of the
descending sun beaming on her back without effect. Sprinting from one
deep shadow to the next, Spike attempted to keep up with her, while
still preserving his skin from the killing sunlight.

"Damn it, Dru." He hissed angrily, "Couldn't you have waited ten
minutes until the sun was safely down? We could get toasted out
here."

Drusilla spread her arms wide, discarding the policeman's corpse, and
closed her eyes in a languid grin.

"I'm not afraid of the sun anymore, Spike. I can feel him tickling
me, but he's not laughing anymore because he thinks I'm going to eat
him. I had a dream about eating fire, Spike, all hot and tingly going
down my throat."

"Well, you might be ready for a suntan, Pet, but I'm not." He
grumbled irritably, "I don't look forward to becoming a crispy
critter the minute I zig when I should have zagged."

"But I'm hungry, Spike." She pouted, strolling over to join him in
the long shadow of a large house and draping her arms around his
neck.

"That cop was your fifth in the last half-hour!" he exclaimed,
baffled, "How can you still be hungry?"

"I don't know Spike, but I want more." She nuzzled against a pair of
puncture holes in his neck only an hour old, "Now."

"Forget it, Luv." He shoved her back a little, "My knees are still
knockin' from the last feeding you took from me. I need to replenish
myself too, you know."

The last sliver of sun settled down beyond the horizon and Spike
breathed a sigh of relief. Stepping out from the depths of shadow, he
raised his arms overhead exultantly.

"Ahhhh," he smiled, "I love florescent streetlamps."

His grin widened as he spotted a pair of human figures cutting
through someone's back yard, approaching them.

"Hello? Just what I was looking for." He folded his arms across his
chest confidently, "You still hungry, Dru? I think this place
delivers now."

The figures drew closer and pale light from the street lamp reached
them, illuminating their faces. Buffy and Gabriel slowed their
approach and stayed protectively close to one another.

"Well, if it isn't the punk and the pussywillow." Spike sneered, "How
you feeling tonight, Slayer?"

Buffy gripped a wooden stake tightly in her fist.

"Good enough to dust you." She threatened.

"You're not looking so ship-shape yourself." Gabriel commented wryly,
noting the multitude of scratches and bite-marks that marked his
flesh, "Wake up on the wrong side of the coffin?"

"Just a few love nips from my Dru." He shrugged, wrapping his arm
around Drusilla and drawing her close. "You're going to be in for a
heck of a lot worse."

"No thanks." Gabriel made a sour face, "She's a bit too insane for my
tastes."

Spike's lip curled at the insult.

"I want the nasty boy." Dru grinned madly, stalking Gabriel, "I want
to eat his eyes."

"Everyone got a partner?" Spike opened his arms in challenge and
advanced on Buffy. "Time to dance."

Gabriel readied a stake, but Drusilla was on him in a flash. Gripping
his wrist, she squeezed until he cried out and dropped his stake.
Grinning, she squeezed harder, driving him to his knees.

Buffy moved to help him, but Spike jumped in front of her with a
powerful backhand. Her head snapped to the side and she tumbled to
the grass. It had felt like he had hit her with a sledgehammer, but
it wasn't because his strength was any greater. Her resilience was
nowhere near what it once was. Rolling with the blow, she regained
her feet and stood, careful not to let him see her stagger.

"Nice hit." She remarked, feigning nonchalance, "But even without my
powers, you hit like a girl."

But I guess so do I right about now, she reminded herself silently.

Spike snarled angrily and lunged at her. She ducked the savage swing
and snapped a sharp stake against his chest, the point aimed at his
heart region. The weapon struck home, but her wrist turned painfully,
knocking the stake loose and only grazing him. She still had the
instincts, but not the strength to follow them through. Spike grabbed
her roughly around the throat and threw her back through the air to
land in a child's sandbox. The impact knocked the wind out of her,
left her stunned.

Holding his shallow chest wound, he stooped and picked up the stake
that had pierced him. He advanced slowly, holding the stake pointing
downward, like a dagger. Half out of the sandbox, Buffy struggled
weakly to escape, but her body refused to respond.

Gabriel knelt in the grass, his face a mask of pain as Drusilla
compressed the bones in his wrist until he was sure they would
shatter.

"I want to taste those pretty eyes." She giggled, holding out a
jagged thumbnail just under his right eye.

Desperate to escape, he bit into the flesh of her wrist, and a burst
of salty blood filled his mouth. Drusilla screamed in shock, pain and
outrage and shook her arm wildly in an attempt to dislodge him.
Balling up his free hand into a fist, he smashed it into her face,
once, then again and again. She growled in frustration and, throwing
him down onto his hands and knees, smashed a kick into his side. The
air whooshed out of his lungs and he tumbled across the cool grass,
landing flat on his back. She followed, ready to finish him.

"Here, kitty-kitty, Mummy's got treats for you." She held out her
empty, blood-drenched hand in offering.

Gabriel rose into a crouch, cradling his wrist. His bag was behind
Drusilla, too far out of reach to make a play for. Why hadn't he
listened to his uncle when he had been advised to always keep a stake
hidden on his person? Suddenly, the advice seemed very sound.

Determined not to let her win, he snapped a sharp kick at her knee,
but she blocked it easily. Spinning into a backfist, he grazed her
across the chin, stunning her more than actually hurting her. He
followed with a sharp uppercut and a kick to her stomach. The blows
could have crippled an average human, but Drusilla shrugged them off
with only minor effect. Taking another hit in the face, she clapped
her hands tightly around the sides of his head and squeezed.

"I remember what you did to me in Prague." she leered, forcing his
head up to meet her gaze, her eyes glittering with bloodlust, "How
you and all those people hurt me. Now it's my turn."

Gabriel screamed and sank to his knees, prying desperately at her
arms to try and relieve the pressure. Blackness crept into the edges
of his vision and his sinuses compressed. He was sure that, any
second now, his skull would explode.

Spike pinned Buffy to the ground with one hand and held the bloody
tip of the stake over her heart with the other. He pressed it hard
into her skin and drew a line of his blood along her upper chest
toward her throat.

"It's been a long time since I killed a Slayer." He grinned, pressing
the tip of the stake against the hollow of her throat hard enough to
make her cough.

"Sorry to break your streak." She reached under the collar of her
shirt and withdrew a small silver crucifix that hung on a thin steel
chain around her neck, pressing it against the flesh of his hand.

"Arrrgh!" he bellowed, dropping the stake and jumping off her,
recoiling and clutching his wound, "You bitch!"

Buffy scrambled back, but Spike's attention was focused elsewhere for
the moment. He saw Drusilla grab hold of Gabriel's head and start to
squeeze. Noting the bloodthirsty look in his lover's eyes, he
abandoned Buffy and ran to her.

"Dru!" he barked sharply, grabbing her by the arms and attempting to
pull them away from the suffering Seventh Son, "Dru, stop it! Stop
it!"

Drusilla fought him, struggling to keep her grip, like a dog with a
bone, "But I'm so hungry, Spike!"

"If you kill him before we cast the spell, I won't get his power." He
scolded her, "Think, sweetie, and give Spike the head."

Reluctantly, she allowed him to pry her fingers from Gabriel's skull,
dropping the young man to the grass with a pained groan.

Spike jabbed his thumb over his shoulder, "If you're so hungry, you
can eat-" he paused, his eyes darting about suspiciously, "She's
gone."

"Spike, I need to eat now!" she whined insistently, her dark eyes
wandering to Gabriel's prone form.

"All right, all right." He relented, scooping Gabriel's half-
conscious form over his shoulder and still watching the shadows for
the missing Slayer, "We'll stop for something quick on the way home."

Crouched quietly on the roof of a nearby house, Buffy clutched her
kit bag close to her body and watched the two vampires as they headed
back toward their mansion.

* * *

Gabriel was only vaguely aware of his surroundings for what seemed
like a long while. He knew he was being carried by someone and not a
friendly someone. He knew also that Drusilla was there, close by.
Even though he could not see her, he could sense the Slayer's power
within her, burning like the white-hot flame of a blowtorch. He was
taken inside a building and dumped roughly into a chair. Coarse rope
was looped around his upper chest and rasped against his neck,
binding him to the chair. His wrists were pulled tightly together in
his lap and encircled with rings of cold steel. Handcuffs, he knew
distantly.

Someone shuffled around and lit a small fire. He could feel the heat
of it against his legs, but not nearly enough that it would hurt him.
He listened closer, hoping to learn more about his surroundings
before his captors realized he had regained consciousness.

He felt a sharp prick against his thigh and the pain jarred him fully
awake.

"Wakey-wakey." Spike chuckled, tapping a bloodstained stake in his
hand.

"Spike." Gabriel growled, ignoring the throbbing pain in his
head. "What do you want?"

"I'm going to take your powers, golden boy." He grinned, pressing the
sharpened piece of wood roughly under Gabriel's chin, "And, for that,
I need you awake."

Dropping the stake carelessly to the floor, Spike held up the orb of
Thesulah, rolling it between the fingers of one hand, and scanned the
thin, crisp pages of the stolen spellbook.

"I can't read this gibberish!" he grumbled irritably, "Damn foreign
languages. Dru, honey, I need you to take a look at this, will you,
Luv?"

Drusilla languished against the arm of the chair she sat in, her arms
wrapped tightly around her mid-section.

"I don't feel like it, Spike," she moaned in a strained whisper,
dropping her bedraggled doll to the floor, "My tummy hurts and Miss
Edith is a terrible nurse. All she does is stare at me."

"I wish you'd stop listening to that thing." Spike narrowed his eyes
and looked sidelong at her, "It's just a bloody doll."

"She's dying." Gabriel muttered, watching her and smirking
triumphantly.

"What the hell did you say?" Spike wrenched Gabriel's head upward,
forcing him to meet the vampire's eyes, "Speak. Now, or I'll rip your
eyes out."

"She's dying." The Seventh Son repeated with a small ironic
chuckle, "What did you expect? The power of the Slayer is the
antithesis of a vampire. It's consuming her from the inside out. And
all the blood in the world can't save her."

Spike released Gabriel's jaw and frowned, caught in a dilemma. He
began to pace, looking to Drusilla's suffering, then back to
Gabriel's cocky expression.

"What the Hell am I listening to you for?" he jabbed a finger in
Gabriel's direction, "You're just looking to mess with my head. She's
made seven kills in the last two hours, OF COURSE she's sick! You try
eating like that and then tell me you don't want to toss your
cookies."

He crouched down next to Drusilla and touched his forehead to hers.

"Dru, Baby, come on. You've got to get up." He urged gently, "I need
you to work the magic again."

"Ooohh," she groaned as he slowly helped her to her feet and pressed
the Orb into her hand.

"Come on, Baby, just one more time." He whispered softly.

Scattering a handful of sand over the orb, she muttered the magic
words, low and tight under her breath, squeezing them out between
clenched teeth. Instantly, the Orb began to glow with a soft yellow
radiance. Spike accepted the orb from her trembling fingers, pausing
only a moment to reevaluate Drusilla's condition as she sank back
into her chair, before turning around to stand in front of Gabriel.

The auburn-haired young man watched the vampire carefully, his eyes
steady and his face impassive.

Spike pulled Gabriel's cuffed hands forward, forcing them out
straight, and held them upturned in his lap. Gabriel's wrists were
red and raw where the cuffs had scraped. Spike held the Orb of
Thesulah over Gabriel's open palms.

"Now all you have to do is touch this and I can start draining your
powers." He grinned, "Then we'll REALLY have some fun."

Gabriel pressed back into his chair, pulling his arms away weakly as
the Orb came closer to his fingers.

"I can't believe you were going to have a party without me." Buffy
appeared in the doorway with a loaded crossbow pointed at Spike's
heart and a sword gleaming in her other hand, the broken door
swinging softly on its hinges. "But, that's okay. I still brought you
something."

"I knew I should have fixed that door." Spike sighed in
annoyance, "Take a hike, Blondie. Without your Slayer powers you're
not even worth the time it would take to break your neck."

"I may not be as strong as I used to be, but I can still aim." She
fixed him with a hard glare, "That's the great thing about crossbows.
You only have to be strong enough to pull the trigger. Even without
my powers, I'm still the Slayer."

"Crossbow's only got one shot." Spike sneered confidently, "And there
are two of us. Better think fast. Get her, Dru."

Drusilla lurched from her chair with a pained groan and ripped the
sword from Buffy's grasp. Throwing the weapon aside disdainfully, she
grabbed Buffy's other wrist and shook the crossbow loose. The blonde
girl kicked weakly and struggled to escape the vampire woman's vise-
like grip.

As Spike watched her, Gabriel squirmed in his chair and kicked out
with his foot, connecting with Spike's wrist. The vampire's arm
snapped up and the Orb of Thesulah flew from his grip.

"Buffy!" Gabriel shouted, locking his legs around Spike's knees and
toppling him to the floor, "The Orb!"

Spike and Gabriel hit the floor hard in a tangle of limbs.

"Dru!" he grunted, attempting to fight free of Gabriel's crushing
legs.

Buffy twisted her body around, reaching for the orb, but Drusilla
fought her, attempting to intercept the flying globe. Simultaneously,
they both grabbed it, their fingers interlacing around its cool,
smooth surface as they tumbled to the floor. The pair came up
kneeling, Drusilla's snarling visage only inches from Buffy's as they
vied for control of the orb. Their eyes met for a brief moment and,
instantly, they froze, their arms falling slack, but still retaining
contact with the crystal globe.

Spike kicked Gabriel in the face and pulled his legs free, clambering
to his feet.

"Dru?" he whispered, leaning down close to her and looking carefully
at her blank face.

He passed his hand in front of her unseeing eyes a few times with no
response. He repeated the process in front of Buffy with the same
results. Shrugging, he picked up her discarded crossbow and pointed
it at her face.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." Gabriel warned from behind him.

Spike cocked an eyebrow and peered slowly over his shoulder. Somehow
he had gotten free of the ropes and he stood with Buffy's sword
clenched in his fists, which were still cuffed at the wrists. His
eyes were hard as green glass and his jaw set in grim conviction.

"Kill Buffy and you'll kill Drusilla." he elaborated, "They're in a
shared trance brought on by the Orb. If one dies, then so does the
other."

"I guess that gets her off the hook for now, doesn't it?" Spike's
face tightened into an animalistic mask and his fangs bared, "but
that don't mean squat for you, punk!"

Whirling, he fired the crossbow. The arrow streaked across the room,
grazing Gabriel's neck and punching out through the window. Right
behind it, Spike pounced on the Seventh Son, driving him back against
the wall, his hands locked around the boy's throat.

* * *

Buffy blinked her eyes and looked around in confusion. She was
standing in the middle of a medieval looking church, complete with
fine oak pews and stained glass windows. Each window was a depiction
of a venerated saint from the bible, not that she recognized any of
them, spilling colored light across the immaculate floor. As strange
as it appeared to her, she found that it felt familiar somehow.
Toward the altar, she could make out a faint whimpering and she
stepped forward tentatively to investigate.

"I'm sorry, Mummy." a girl's voice beseeched, "I can't help what my
eyes show me."

As she drew closer to the altar, she found Drusilla curled into a
ball, laying on her side next to it with her eyes squeezed tightly
shut.

"I try not to see these things," she continued, whimpering, unaware
of Buffy, "but the harder I try, the more I see."

She flinched violently, like a restless dog in its sleep.

"No, no, Mummy, please. I love our Lord, I would never turn my back
on Him. Mummy, please! No! Not that terrible monastery! Don't send me
there! There are ghosts there!"

The vampire's eyes snapped open and, instantly, her body stilled. Her
face twisted into its vampiric form, she crawled slowly to her feet.

"Hello, Buffy." she purred, stepping casually down off the dais, "Do
you know where we are?"

"Well, it's not Billy Graham's church, that's for sure." she
ventured, looking around for some sort of weapon.

Near the front there were basins filled with holy water. She edged
carefully backward toward them.

"This is the monastery where Angel came to visit me." she smiled,
relishing the memory, "This is where he MADE me."

Buffy inched ever closer to the water basins, trying not to let
Drusilla's reminder of Angel's dark path distract her.

"My Mummy sent me here so I would be good again, stop seeing things."
Drusilla brought her hands up to her mouth and caught the sleeve of
her dress between her teeth in a nervous, childlike mannerism,
peering furtively up at the figures depicted in the stained glass
windows, "She said they would be watching me, to see if I was being
bad. I tried to be good, I tried so hard. But Angel wouldn't have it.
He said he had to have me, that we were meant to be together."

A flare of anger tinged with jealousy rose within Buffy and she
gripped one of the water basins and threw it across the room at
Drusilla. It sailed farther than she had anticipated, easily reaching
the vampire and bouncing at her feet, drenching her from head to
foot. Apparently, it seemed, she had gotten her powers back.

Drusilla screeched with shock and outrage and jumped back as the holy
water doused her.

"Look at what you've done to my dress!" she cried accusingly at
Buffy, holding her dripping arms out away from her sides and looking
down at herself, "Now no one will ask me to dance at the
quartermaster's ball!"

"You . . .You should be burned." Buffy gasped.

"You really don't know where we are, do you?" Drusilla giggled
derisively, water dripping harmlessly off her chin, "It's the Astral
plane, Dearie. The mind is free of the limitations of the body here."

Buffy realized why this place seemed so familiar now. It felt the
same as her dreams.

"So what are we doing here?" Buffy narrowed her eyes
suspiciously, "You're hardly someone I'd like to be sharing a
daydream with."

"It's the Orb." Drusilla raised her arms and turned slowly, gesturing
to everything around them, "All of it. We have a connection, you and
I. I have your power and you want it back. We're here to settle
things. Break the connection."

"So all I got to do to get my powers back for real is kick your
butt?" the blonde Slayer raised her hands into fists. "This should be
a snap."

Drusilla bowed her head and began to chuckle darkly. Her shoulders
twitched and began to bulge, rippling with thick, corded muscles. Her
flesh changed color, turning a dusky purple-gray, and became bumpy
and hard. She reared and roared deafeningly, displaying a mouth full
of needle-like fangs and fiery, blood-red eyes.

"Okay, maybe snap was the wrong word to use." She reconsidered,
backing away from the terrible creature before her.

* * *

Gabriel landed across a wooden chair and felt it smash under his
weight, jamming painfully against his ribs. Throwing his cuffed hands
forward, he was able to absorb some of the impact, but not much.
Rolling, he struck out at Spike with a double fisted swing and
followed with a swift kick. Spike dodged the attacks and stepped
inside his reach. Instinctively, Gabriel punched with his left,
capitalizing on a perfect shot at the vampire's unprotected throat.
The cuffs restrained him and the blow never landed, pulling him off
balance instead. Grinning cruelly, Spike backhanded him across the
face, throwing him hard against the wall. Gabriel stumbled dizzily
and shook his head to clear it, a warm trickle of blood crawling out
of his nose. The raw marks on his wrists were starting to bleed now,
too.

"You know, this might be even better than stealing your powers."
Spike considered, cracking the knuckles of one fist. "I'm really
havin' fun!"

"Let me out of these cuffs and I'll show you fun." Gabriel growled,
twisting ineffectually at the metal restraints.

"You've already had your fun." The blonde vampire scoffed, snapping a
kick up toward Gabriel's midsection, "Now it's my turn. Besides, you
don't really think I'd let you go, do you?"

Gabriel brought both hands down in a solid block, but left his head
unguarded and caught a hard fist across his jaw. He staggered back,
blocking two more punches, then retaliated, stuffing a side kick into
Spike's mid-section. The vampire snarled, skidding back with the
force of the strike, but rebounded with rabid tenacity. Gabriel
punched out and when Spike turned his fist aside, his other arm was
forced to follow, leaving him defenseless again. Spike drove a knee
into his abdomen and clubbed him over the head with his fist. Gabriel
felt his teeth clatter together as he hit the floor and his bruised
lungs labored for air. The damn cuffs! They were too limiting, to
both his mobility and his options. But perhaps there was a way he
could turn them to his advantage.

"Get up, punk!" Spike sneered, "So I can throw you down again."

Gabriel complied, rising slowly, and kept his hands close to his
body. Feinting with a low kick, he dove forward as Spike stooped to
intercept it. He leaped up and looped the short length of chain
between his wrists around Spike's throat, circling behind him and
pulling his arms back tight.

"Ack!" Spike coughed, straining to pry the cuffs away from his
throat.

Gabriel jerked hard, driving the metal chain deeper into his flesh.

"Still having fun?" he grunted harshly in the vampire's ear, driving
his knee into his lower back for more leverage, "What's that? I can't
hear you."

Spike shoved back with his legs, crushing Gabriel up against the
wall, but the Seventh Son took the pain stoically and held on.
Spike's vision darkened and his limbs grew steadily weaker as the
blood flow to his brain was effectively cut off and, gradually, he
fell unconscious. Gabriel held the chain tightly for another few
minutes, just to be sure, then yanked the cuffs over his head and let
Spike fall flat on his face.

His adrenaline level starting to fade, he fell to one knee, tired and
in pain. He hurt all over, particularly his ribs where he had landed
on the chair and a lengthwise strip along his back that promised to
bruise painfully in the days to come.

Near the door, Buffy and Drusilla were still locked in their trance,
the tiny muscles of their faces twitching occasionally the way a
dreaming sleeper's might. Wiping a thin trickle of blood from his
nose and rolling Spike's limp body over, he rifled through his
pockets searching for the keys to the handcuffs. He paused and looked
once more to Buffy's face, hoping that she would be all right.

* * *

Buffy ducked, barely avoiding a heavy punch that shattered the back
of a wooden pew. Diving between Drusilla's legs and rolling, she came
up behind her and kicked her in the back. The Drusilla beast roared
angrily and spun around, her taloned hands ready. As the battle
progressed, she was continuing to change, the irises of her eyes
becoming slitted like a snake's and her skin sprouting leathery,
grayish scales. It seemed she was getting bigger, too.

Buffy avoided a savage swing and moved directly into the path of
Drusilla's whip-like tail. The impact knocked her bone-jarringly
against a tall wooden statue of some unknown saint and she wrapped
her arms around it, half using it as a shield. When had Drusilla
developed a tail?

She staggered back as Drusilla struck the statue again with her tail.
The statue shook violently and Buffy stepped away from it, into the
light of one of the stained glass windows. A wave of serene warmth
washed over her and a familiar, ghostly voice sounded inside her
head.

"Remember the fire." It said, "It will save you."

Drusilla roared and knocked over the statue, toppling a stand of
candles as well, dropping them at Buffy's feet.

"Fight me!" she snarled, her voice deep and distorted.

Remember the fire, Buffy's dream voice told her.

Buffy crouched and touched the guttering flame of one of the candles
to her palm and it stuck there painlessly. Cradling the tiny flame in
her hand, she held it up in front of her face and blew on it gently.
Drusilla's eyes widened and she took an uneasy step back as the flame
flared and raced across Buffy's skin, transforming her.

Buffy felt the fire course over her, through her, and reveled in the
power it unleashed. Heat washed over her and her limbs sang with
newfound strength. She was bigger now, equal to Drusilla, a towering
woman-shape composed entirely of searing golden fire.

"You want a fight?" Buffy grinned, the air around her shimmering with
the intense heat, "I'm all yours."

Drusilla took another shaky step back, her hulking, scaly form
seeming to shrink in on itself. Her stomach was starting to hurt
again, knotting in a sickness that was rooted in her mind.

"Spike." She murmured fearfully, rising into a desperate
scream, "Spike! Help me!"

Her cry echoed off the walls of the cathedral, gaining resonance as
it bounced. A concentrated area of air before her began to shimmer
and waver, just above the floor. Thin tendrils of distortion knitted
together and fused into the form of Spike, laying prone on his side.
Drusilla's face twisted up in an evil smile.

"Come here, Spike." She cooed as her lover sat up groggily.

"Wh-what's happening, Dru?" he blinked in confusion, "Where are we?"

"It's the dreamworld, Spike." She caressed his head lovingly, "You
must have been sleeping and heard me call. How sweet."

Spike gripped her arms and pulled himself to his feet. Where his
hands contacted her, a cloud of sparkles and glowing light erupted.
Tugging his arm back, he found that he was stuck to her.

"What the Hell is this!" he demanded, jerking violently to try and
free his arm, "What happened to you?"

"Shhh, shhh, shhh. It's all right, dear." Drusilla comforted him as
the glow traveled farther up his arms, engulfing him and fusing them
together, "We're going to kill the Slayer together."

Spike shook and fought, his arms and entire lower half melded with
her. The radiant phenomenon took the rest of him quickly, and their
massive, combined body metamorphosed into a giant two headed dragon-
like thing. The head on its left was shaped like a reptilian version
of Drusilla, while the one on its right was like Spike.

"Yeah," the Spike head hissed with pleasure between needled teeth, "I
see what you mean now."

As the ponderous, four-footed creature stepped forward, Fire-Buffy
grappled it around its massive, barrel-like chest and heaved it
against the stone altar, crushing it into rubble. As the creature
roiled and thrashed trying to right itself, the Drusilla head snapped
angrily at her, but drew back from the aura of scorching heat which
surrounded her. The Spike head was smarter. Choosing instead to grasp
a chunk of stone in its maw, it whipped its long neck around and
flung it like a missile. The stone caught Fire-Buffy in the
midsection, doubling her over in pain. The flame aura surrounding her
dimmed as she staggered back, fighting to put some distance between
herself and her adversaries.

Seizing the advantage, the beast's two heads shot out, each clamping
its jaws around an arm and hoisting her into the air. Fire-Buffy
screamed piercingly and liquid light spilled from her wounds as she
was lifted, dangling and defenseless.

* * *

Gabriel snapped open the second cuff and dropped the metal restraints
to the floor, rubbing viciously at the raw spots on his wrists. Spike
lay unmoving at his feet, limbs splayed, defenseless. Scanning the
room, Gabriel found nothing that would make a serviceable stake. The
fragments of broken furniture were all too blocky and dull. Dragging
him out into the sun would be pointless, too. He would definitely
wake up long before the sun rose again. If Gabriel had his way, the
murderous vampire would never wake up again. That left only
decapitation, holy water or fire. The last was too risky to be an
option and holy water was inefficient, not to mention messy as Hell.
Gabriel picked up Buffy's discarded sword and hefted it
experimentally. Guess it would have to be decapitation, after all.

As he lined up the shot, touching the razor edged steel against
Spike's exposed throat, Buffy jerked and made a harsh choking sound
in the back of her throat. Gabriel edged away from Spike, the sword
still pointed at the vampire's neck, and squatted next to Buffy. Her
breathing was erratic and strained and her face was tight with
distress. It was like she was having a particularly traumatic
nightmare. Drawing up her sleeves, he found that the skin of her
forearms had become red and blotchy as if from a bad case of poison
ivy or a violent allergic reaction. Wrinkling his nose, he was sure
he detected the acrid stink of burnt hair in the air.

Drusilla was killing her, he realized, destroying her spirit in a
combat of wills. He had heard of such things happening, often between
opponents who were psychically sensitive. If the spirit died, then
so, too, would the body. He had to help her somehow. At one of the
darkest points in his life, Buffy had been there for him. She had
given him more compassion than he had given himself and now he hoped
to repay a small portion of that debt.

Sitting down next to her in a lotus position, he laid the sword
across his lap and covered both her hands with his. He closed his
eyes and willed his mind into a state of tranquil calm. Years ago,
while he had been studying in Japan, his master had taught him to
meditate. Gabriel had found the lesson boring and, at the time,
considered the skill useless. Now he prayed that he had not forgotten
how.

Inhaling and exhaling deep breaths, he prepared himself, surrendering
his thoughts and choosing to simply exist and not to think. He felt
his surroundings slowly melt away, although his senses remained as
sharp as ever. It had been hard to get used to, this state of
unconscious awareness. Concentrating on the soft, warm hand under
his, he let himself sink down even further in search of Buffy's
spirit.

* * *

Fire-Buffy gritted her teeth as the two headed demon pulled her arms
in opposite directions, their needlelike teeth digging into her
ephemeral flesh. Straining to keep her mind focused, she thought of
fire and intense heat. Her skin flared brightly and the two demon
heads cried out, releasing their holds as their lips were seared.
Buffy dropped to the floor, cradling her wounded arms against her
body.

The Drusilla-Spike beast writhed and glared at her balefully with its
four eyes, its jaws slavering to cool its burnt skin.

"You can't win, Slayer." The Spike head snarled, shooting out and
snapping its teeth together just inches from her face.

"He's right, Dearie." The Drusilla head agreed, circling around and
butting her from the side with its massive maw.

Fire-Buffy stumbled over an overturned pew and fell against the wall.
They were right, she knew. Defeating Spike or Drusilla alone would be
a task in itself, but both of them together, coupled with her stolen
Slayer power would be impossible. This dreamworld was too strange and
unpredictable. She hadn't had the time to learn how to use its
peculiar laws to her advantage. But she wouldn't go down without a
fight. Crouching, she ducked under the Spike head and readied herself
for a leap of desperation that would, more than likely, cost her her
life.

Fire-Buffy screamed as Spike's needle-filled jaws intercepted her and
clamped down on her shoulder, piercing deep and spraying hot,
luminescent orange blood across his maw. The head reared, hoisting
her into the air, its lips smoking from the contact, and shook her
limp body wildly like a rabid dog. It threw her against the wall with
brutal force and she collapsed in a heap beneath one of the ornate
stained glass windows.

Her flames were flickering now, weakening. She crawled slowly to her
knees, too weak to even stand. In this world, Spike and Drusilla were
too powerful. She simply couldn't compete.

Spike's head leered and reached into the beam of colored light that
streamed through the window, licking it's seared lips with a forked,
purple tongue. With a dark chuckle of triumph, it lunged forward with
blinding speed, teeth bared for a fatal bite. Buffy raised her arms
to shield herself, but the needle-tipped teeth never reached her.
Drusilla had pulled her half of the body back, causing Spike's attack
to jerk and fall short. Spike tugged on his half of the body
irritably, and turned his long neck around to look questioningly at
Drusilla. She was staring, wide-eyed and awestruck at the stained
glass window above Buffy's head.

Colored beams of light poured through the meticulously laid panes of
glass, bathing the Drusilla-Spike beast in a column of bright
radiance. The figure depicted in the window was a powerful archangel
holding a gleaming golden trumpet. The glass bent and filled out into
the three dimensional shape of the archangel, seeming to gradually
gain consciousness as it pulled itself free from the window. Both
heads of the Drusilla-Spike beast coiled back cautiously as the
archangel hopped off the ledge and dropped softly to the floor
between them and Buffy.

"Get up." the archangel whispered soothingly to Fire-Buffy. His voice
was deep and resonant, otherworldly.

She reached out weakly and took hold of his twinkling, many-faceted
hand and strength filled her again. Warmth flooded up her arm,
reenergizing her tired body and feeding her dying flame. The
archangel was healing her.

"Gabriel." she smiled, standing near to him and staring into the
green glass of his eyes. One word, one touch and she had no doubt as
to who he was.

"It's that punk kid!" the Spike head snarled, grinding the thick
talons of his forefoot into the cold stone floor, "How did HE get
here?"

"It doesn't matter, Spike." the Drusilla head sneered, watching them,
its reptilian lips pulling back to expose deadly teeth, "They don't
know the rules. This is OUR game."

The Drusilla-Spike creature stepped forward with renewed confidence,
slow and anticipatory, its two heads writhing and watching them
appraisingly from atop long sinewy necks. Their faces had become
longer and boxy, more dragon-like, and their original features were
almost unrecognizable. Only their voices, although deep and
distorted, held a measure of their former selves.

The Spike head lunged, smashing its heavy snout into the glass
archangel's chest. Gabriel's new body crashed back against the wall
of the church and he fell to one knee, breathless and in pain.
Pressing a hard, faceted hand to his chest, he was glad to find that
nothing was broken. Apparently, his skin was very resilient, more
like transparent, colored steel than actual stained glass. Still, it
hurt like Hell.

"I'm sorry," the Spike head sneered venomously, "Did I hurt you?"

Buffy stepped in front of the two-headed monstrosity and spread her
arms protectively before Gabriel.

"Get away from him." She shouted, her fiery body flaring warningly.

The two heads looked to each other and chuckled darkly, saliva
dripping from their jaws.

"What do you say, Dru?" the Spike head queried sarcastically, "Should
we leave 'em alone?"

"Hmmm, I don't know." The Drusilla head considered, touching the end
of her forked tongue to the tips of her pointed teeth
thoughtfully, "Remember that dream I told you about? The one where I
swallowed fire? I think I might like to do it again."

"Got fire in your belly, have you?" the Spike head leered
craftily, "I think I could put that to good use."

Throwing his great reptilian jaws wide, he vomited forth a stream of
blazing green fire. Buffy intercepted the roaring jet, crossing her
forearms in front of her face and shielding Gabriel from the brunt of
the blast.

The emerald flame was cold, as chilling as the void of outer space,
and she screamed piercingly as her body was wracked with absolute
agony and her inner fire was doused.

"Noooo!" Gabriel lurched to his feet, clasping his glittering arms
around her wilting form, and whipped her around, turning his back
into the flame.

The Drusilla head cackled and added her breath to Spike's geyser of
icy fire, turning a stream into a torrent. Buffy and Gabriel were
both screaming now, as the cold seemed to leech into their very
souls. The Drusilla-Spike beast redoubled its efforts, engulfing the
two totally in verdant fire so that they were lost from view. The
screams died off, swallowed in the roaring rush of the flames.

The two-headed creature continued to spew fire until its lungs were
completely emptied. Breathing heavily in exhaustion, both heads of
the beast grinned in satisfaction, watching the dying column of flame
and hoping to find some trophy of its victory. The blaze guttered
down into an oblong ball shape that stirred slowly. The Drusilla-
Spike beast stumbled back on its thick, stubby legs, aghast.

The inferno had reshaped into the form of an angel, a beautiful
androgynous being with flowing hair and graceful, feathered wings,
all composed of the same fluid green flames. The being straightened
with the innocence of a newborn and held its arms outstretched,
enamored by the sight of its newly-formed limbs.

Buffy felt like she was flying. Every movement brought joy to her
heart and every breath was like music inside her. And she wasn't
alone. Gabriel was with her. No, he WAS her. And she was him. She
felt a thousand separate emotions whirling around inside her and saw
a dozen different places she had never been.

In Africa, she prowled across the savanna, adapting to the harsh
conditions as if she had been born to them, at one in the wild with
the lions and the cheetahs. In Czechoslovakia, she wept over the
death of a small child, her heart aching with guilt. And on her first
trip to America she gazed admiringly into the eyes of a beautiful
young Slayer, her perfect match in every way, and felt her heart skip
a beat.

Gabriel's mind swam, buffeted by a dozen memories that were not his
own. He felt his heart drop into his stomach as the realization of
the prophecy sank in and he knew without doubt that he would die
fighting the Master. He rested on his bed with Mister Gordo the
stuffed pig in his lap, staring up at the stars, and considered the
irony of being a Slayer in love with a vampire. He wept bitter tears
as he kissed Angel one last time before doing the unthinkable.
Holding his lover's eyes, he plunged the sword in the vampire's heart
and pushed him through the portal to Hell.

Together, they shared some of the greatest and darkest moments of
each other's lives, all in a matter of seconds.

The luminescent angel opened its dark green eyes and faced the
Drusilla-Spike creature with deadly calm. Snapping its wings out
wide, it bathed the rafters of the old church with an eerie green
light.

"Uh-oh, Luv." The lizard-like Spike head narrowed its dark eyes
suspiciously, "I think we may be in for some trouble."

Both heads sucked in a deep breath and blew a thick column of green
fire at the amalgam angel as it stalked forward, slow and steadily.
The flames licked around the advancing figure without any effect. In
fact, the angel appeared to be drawing the flames into itself,
growing larger and stronger until the roof of the church could no
longer contain it.

The Drusilla-Spike beast stepped back, avoiding chunks of falling
roof stones and releasing a fresh blast of fire. The angel threw its
great wings forth, casting a powerful torrent of wind before it. The
two-headed creature's breath turned back on itself, slamming back
down the gullets from which it had originated. The beast fell back,
grating its ponderous hind quarters against the stone wall, coughing
and choking on green smoke and tiny flames. It made one more feeble
attempt to spew fire before the angel was upon it, resulting only in
a puff of green gas.

The creature shrank in on itself, its halves separating and
metamorphosing back into its component personalities. Spike and
Drusilla collapsed weakly to the floor, breathless and stunned. The
angel stooped and took each of the vampires in one of its massive
hands, holding them up to eye level like tiny dolls.

"It's over." It stated in a thunderous voice that shook the
countryside, sounding like a chorus of Buffys and Gabriels.

The two vampires looked to each other in dismay, then into the giant
green eyes of their captor and swallowed uneasily.

* * *

Giles approached the old mansion cautiously, with Willow, Xander and
Joyce in tow. Each carried two bottles of holy water and an
assortment of sharpened wooden stakes. Giles also held a heavy, steel
crossbow furtively close to his body as he walked. Joyce had chosen a
wooden cross as her only weapon, but had insisted that she be
included in the plan against Rupert's advice. The former Watcher had
known then, as he knew now, that she would not be dissuaded.

The sight of the place put a knot of discomfort in Giles' stomach.
The last time he had been here, he had been tortured beyond
coherence. The memory was difficult to forget.

"This way." He whispered, directing the small entourage to the front
door, "I'll take the point."

"Point?", Xander cocked his head, "What are we, migrating geese?"

"Without the spell Willow found, Buffy may never get her powers back
again. And I'm afraid to say that Gabriel may not be enough to
protect her this time." Giles paused at the door, his hand white-
knuckled around the knob. The jamb had been shattered and the door
hung loose on its hinges.

Nodding to the others to ready themselves, he gave the door a push
and stepped inside. What he found there was nothing like he had
expected.

Most of the room's sparse furniture had been overturned or broken.
Spike lay in an undignified heap, unconscious on the floor in the
center of the room. Off to one side, Buffy sat, still as a statue,
directly across from Drusilla who knelt in an identical zombie-like
condition. Next to Buffy, both his hands over hers, Gabriel sat in a
lotus position in a self-induced trance, with Buffy's favorite sword
across his lap.

A dying fire guttered in the hearth, shedding only a modest amount of
dark orange light into the room.

"Did somebody call naptime when I wasn't paying attention?" Xander
scratched his head, experimentally nudging Spike's unmoving body with
his toe, "Man, this is like kindergarten all over again. Except with
vampires."

"What's wrong with them?" Joyce crouched next to Buffy and hesitantly
stroked her hair, her voice shrill with concern.

Giles knelt by Spike and touched the swollen, red line across the
vampire's throat.

"Spike appears to have been choked into unconsciousness." He
surmised, turning to study his nephew, noting the numerous bruises
and the blood that oozed out of one nostril, "Judging by these marks,
I'd say Gabriel was the one who did the choking. After that, it looks
like he purposely put himself into some sort of trance."

His eyes wandered to Buffy and Drusilla's unblinking faces and then
dropped to the Orb of Thesulah in their hands.

"I can only guess what has happened here." He admitted with a puzzled
frown, "But I think it's safe to assume that it has something to do
with the Orb."

"This looks serious." Willow commented, looking at the pair
closely, "Some kind of shared psychometabolic transference, maybe?"

"Quite possibly." Giles rubbed his chin with interest, "They're
certainly showing all the classic signs."

"Can I lead the team in a resounding 'Huh?'" Xander spread his hands
and wrinkled his forehead.

"Yes, what ARE you talking about?" Joyce eyed Giles, exasperated and
confused.

Giles unconsciously slipped into instructor mode. "Well, it's a
classic example of - "

"YAHH!" Xander jumped nervously and fearfully held out a cross at
arm's length in Spike's direction, "He moved! Heeee moved."

One of Spike's arms had twitched and he began to stir. The room's
three other sleeping occupants began to awaken, as well. Buffy and
Drusilla released their hold on the Orb of Thesulah and fell back,
away from one another, each with a sharp gasp. They staggered to
their feet, struggling to regain their senses.

As Joyce rushed to her daughter's side, Gabriel quickly slipped his
feet under himself and hopped up, next to her. Across the room, Spike
coughed and held his hand against his throat as Dru pulled him to his
feet.

"All right." The blonde vampire rasped, his voice box bruised, "Let's
start with round two."

Buffy accepted a stake from Willow and looked Spike over dubiously.

"You're kidding, right?" she tapped the stake confidently in the palm
of her opposite hand, "There are six of us and only two of you. And
by the feel of it, I got my powers back. Do you have some kind of
death wish or something?"

"Your mates are your problem, not mine." Spike sneered, "How are you
going to watch your own back while you're busy watching theirs?"

"Spike, I want to leave." Drusilla gripped his arm tightly.

"Listen to your girlfriend, Spike." Gabriel counseled, turning his
own stake over in his fingers with anticipation, "You might actually
survive the night."

"I already kicked your ass once tonight, punk." Spike snarled
angrily, "You should be the one who's worried about survival."

"Spike, I have to leave. Now. My tummy. . ." Drusilla dragged him
toward the door, her face ashen and sick looking.

"Not now, Baby." he resisted, "Can't you see Daddy's trying to start
a fight?"

Drusilla gripped her arm tightly around his waist and her body tensed
sharply in a violent convulsion. She retched and an incongruously
large amount of dark red blood poured from her mouth, splattering
onto the floor between his feet.

"Aw, damn it, Dru, I just got these shoes!" Spike cried in dismay,
alternately picking his feet out of the hot blood.

The humans recoiled at the revolting sight.

"I feel better now." Drusilla choked on another small retch and
burped quietly in relief.

"Well, good for you." Spike grumbled, stepping back out of the sticky
puddle and holding her to his side.

"This isn't over." He promised, pointing a warning finger at both
Gabriel and Buffy.

Buffy tilted her head toward Gabriel with a sarcastic smile, "Y'know,
I think I heard him say that already."

Snarling at their flippant attitudes, Spike flashed an obscene
gesture to the room and retreated through the door. Stumbling weakly
alongside him, Drusilla held her stomach and groaned under her
breath.

"I'M choosing the vacation spot next time." he spat angrily, his
voice trailing off in the distance, "Someplace nice like San
Francisco or L.A. maybe. . ."

"Well, that was rather odd . . ." Giles slipped his glasses off and
scratched his head.

"Yeah. And don't forget disgusting." Xander wrinkled his nose at the
pool of regurgitated blood on the floor, fascinated yet, at the same
time, repulsed.

"We-we should probably go now, don't you think?" Joyce suggested,
looking around nervously.

"Joyce is right. Everything looks to be taken care of here." Giles
agreed, turning to Buffy and Gabriel as the rest of the group
collectively made their way toward the door.

"Almost." Gabriel held the Orb of Thesulah out to Buffy, "Care to do
the honors?"

"Gladly." she accepted the crystal orb and hurled it into the
fireplace where it exploded in a fury of tiny shards.

"You both did an admirable job." Giles commended as he held the door
for them, "I'm very proud of you."

"Yes." Joyce stopped and looked seriously at Gabriel, "This is twice
now that I've seen you risk you life for Buffy. I'm sorry about what
I said earlier. My impression of you was completely wrong. I hope
you'll forgive me."

"Nothing to forgive." He assured her with a staying hand, "I'm just
glad I could help."

Joyce smiled at Buffy then joined Giles at the head of the group,
followed by Willow and Xander. Buffy and Gabriel trailed behind,
gazing dreamily at one another. Gabriel wrapped a strong arm around
Buffy and held her against his side as they walked. His eyes danced
with pleased mischief as they held hers, sharing a new depth in the
connection between them. She felt it too.

"You know, Gabriel, I was thinking." Joyce said to him without
looking back, "I could probably pull some strings down at the gallery
if you're looking for a job. You know, get your foot in the door. I
bet you'd be a big help in acquisitions."

Gabriel smiled and tilted his head against Buffy's, feeling her
silky, blonde hair on his cheek. He slowed and she slowed with him.
Her sweet feminine scent tickled his nose and set his heart thumping
in his chest. He looked deeply into her eyes and brushed the back of
one finger slow and soft along the curve of her cheek.

"Hey, that would be cool." Xander nodded, keeping with the brisk
pace, "I applied for a job at the shoe store across the street from
there. We could, like, do lunch or something."

Buffy drew her fingers up the back of his neck and stroked them
through his soft auburn hair. She was only vaguely aware of the
conversation going on around her. All she knew was warm green eyes
marked with a halo of gold, watching her with absolute care,
tenderness and respect.

"And Buffy and I could visit you guys at lunchtime" Willow chirped
happily, "and . . . also do."

Gabriel let his lips hover near Buffy's, gravitating gradually closer
to her as if by a will of their own. Buffy closed her eyes and she
breathed in slowly, drawing him forward, her mouth turned up in a
confident smile. Their lips met with the warmth and beauty of a
sunburst and their pulses throbbed in unified glory.

"What do you think, Gabriel?" Xander turned backwards as he
walked, "We could hang out, talk a little shop and - Oh, for the love
of Pete, would you two get a room!"

Buffy and Gabriel had stopped walking altogether and stood embracing
in the street, lost in the midst of a deep, sweet kiss.

"Come on," Willow took Xander by the arm, "We should probably give
them some time alone. They've earned it."



AUTHOR'S NOTE

For those of you who may be interested in the rest of the series
and/or may have missed a piece or two of it, below is a list of the
stories with short descriptions.



DIVERGENT PATHS - Coinciding with the discovery of an artifact with
the power to close the Hellmouth, a mysterious stranger arrives in
Sunnydale with abilities that rival the Slayer's. Will he be a
powerful ally for her, or bring about her downfall? (Faith/Buffy/Willow/Xander/Giles Sec),

TO HELL WITH TOMORROW - Thirty-five years into the future and Slaying
has taken on a whole new scope. Gabriel Giles attempts to cheat
death and learns that things happen for a reason. (Giles/Oz/Willow/Angel(us) Sec)

BAD BLOOD - A familiar face comes to LA, forcing Angel to confront
both a violent killer and his lingering feelings for Buffy. (Angel(us)/Cordelia Sec)

RETURNS - Spike and Drusilla return to Sunnydale over the summer, but
they aren't the only familiar faces turning up. Planning to steal
the powers of the Slayer and Seventh Son, they cast a dark shadow
over the reuniting Chosen Ones. (Spike/Dru/Buffy/Willow/Xander/Giles Sec)

POOR MISS EDITH - Before coming to Sunnydale, Spike and Drusilla
lived in Prague, Czechoslovakia and battled with a young Gabriel
Giles. (Spike/Dru/Giles Sec),

REDEEMED - Five months after 'The Wish', a new Slayer arrives in
Sunnydale to aid the Whitehats and faces off with a very different
Seventh Son. (Giles/Oz/Faith/Willow/Xander Sec)

BOY'S NIGHT OUT - While the girls have a night to themselves, the
boys go looking for fun and run afoul of a demon with a taste for
young men. (Buffy/Oz/Willow/Xander Sec)

HISTORY - Threatened by the possible return of the Master, Buffy is
forced into a hard choice between love and duty. (Buffy/Willow Sec)

FACING FEARS - Buffy's been dumped and three different men plan to
take advantage, Riley, Parker and the newly-reborn Master.
Meanwhile, Gabriel is targeted by the Initiative. (Buffy/Willow/Giles/Spike/Xander Sec),

A DAY IN THE LIFE - When Buffy and Gabriel get turned into children,
Willow and Xander must assume the roles of Slayer and Seventh Son.
But which is the greater problem, Sunnydale's vampire population or
two rambunctious toddlers on the loose? (Buffy/Willow/Giles/Xander Sec)