Title: Breaking a Slayer 25-28

Disclaimer: I don't own them.

Spoilers/Ships: This is AU. Buffy/Spike/Angel.

Distribution: Sure, just let me know.

Feedback: Is always nice. DarkRhiannon@aol.com

Rating: NC-17.

Blood. Searing hot and unbelievably powerful, it burned down his throat, ravishing his senses. Every dead nerve came alive, every muscle twitched. He could swear he felt his undead heart throb for a moment. Pleasure filled his entire being, but it was a knife's edge away from raw agony. That painful line pulsed within him, stealing his volition until the rapturous sucking at the font of his pain/pleasure was all he could feel, all he could focus on. It was so good, better than a thousand orgasms. He felt his cock awaken and spend, the pleasure building again almost immediately to another rapturous high.

Dimly, Spike became aware of himself and his being. Vampire. That's what he was. That's why this was so good. "Mmmm," he growled at the font, tearing into it deeply with fangs and clutching for unlife to this bountiful feast. Never had he felt this way, it was bliss. It was his and he would never leave it. The thought crystallized in his dazed mind as he sucked.

A far off growl was threatening him with pain somehow. Sire. He owed absolute obedience to that voice, that presence, and it was telling him to stop. How could he stop this feast, though, surely the Sire voice didn't demand that of him. He remembered dully the Sire causing unspeakable harm in the past. "Discipline, my boy. You lack discipline. But you will learn it or die the true death, Childe. Do you hear me?" Pain. He felt pain now, and not the pleasant burning of the font. Slowly he withdrew his fangs and hands from the body….*Fuck, who is this? Slayer! Hell, no…* "Buffy?!" he gasped, mouth dripping her blood onto his bare chest as she lay pale and unmoving in his deadly grasp. "Oh, no, not Buffy, not like this…"

Somewhere inside, Spike registered that he loved this woman. He didn't want her to die. He loved her warmth, the life that glowed from her amazing body. Sure, some time in the future he'd love to turn her. Just think of the havoc they could wreck through Sunnyhell and beyond! The human happy meals just waiting to be drained. But for now he wanted to revel in the living flesh that warmed his cold dead self. Somehow, Buffy had become necessary. As necessary as blood. Which was, he realized, what she had given him.

Angel pushed him frantically to one side and clutched at his mate. "Buffy, Buffy! Can you hear me, Beloved? God, Spike, what have I done? I have to get her to the hospital." Angel lifted his mate carefully in his arms, still weak himself from the blood he'd fed to Spike. Spike could feel it inside him now, could smell it still welling slightly from the tear in Angel's wrist.

"I'll get the car, Sire," he said and raced for the door. He was amazed at the power he felt. *This was bloody amazing…pun intended,* he thought. He was more than a little high on the heady combination of his sire and the Slayer racing through his undead veins. *Blood is life, indeed, William old chap.*

Angel couldn't bear the awful sense of déjà vu he felt racing with Buffy limp in his arms through the dark mansion and into the car. As Spike drove, Angel clutched his mate to his unbeating heart and prayed…prayed that whatever gods or demons were listening would spare her life again. He carried her into the same ER where he'd been only a year ago and handed her over to the staff. He paced and Spike went to call Giles and tell him what had happened. God only knew what the Watcher would do to them both when he arrived.

*

Giles was livid. He stormed into the waiting room, meeting their eyes for a moment before ignoring both of them, striding to the attending and bullying his way into Buffy's room with Ripper fully to the fore.

"Didn't know they still taught the cut direct in Britain, did'ja, Sire," Spike asked snarkily, trying desperately to lighten the mood a bit.

Angel gazed at him and Spike was surprised and taken aback to see no hostility toward him at the situation. *After all, it was my fault,* he thought. Angel reached one large hand towards Spike's face and Spike flinched…steeling himself for the blow that was coming. Instead, Angel stroked him so gently it was only a whisper.

"T'wasn't yer fault, Will," he said, lapsing into the faint lilt that only came out in moments of great emotion. "T'was my doin'. I gave ye Sire's blood to try an' wake ye and when it didn't work, she offered hers. An' I let her. We both owe her our unlives now, Childe."

Spike looked solemnly back at his sire. "I'll go now, if that's what you want, Angelus," he said. "I never meant…not like this…I've wanted her, but I wouldn't have…I don't care that the bloomin' chip is gone…I just want her back and well." His voice dissolved to a thready whisper and Angel pulled the smaller man to him for a moment.

"Me, too, Childe. Me, too. But ye cannot leave me. I need ye, Will. Please stay with us," Angel begged, his voice breaking in grief and anguish.

"I'll stay as long as you want me, Sire" Spike heard himself reply.
 

Author's note: In the past, in the heyday of the ton…Britain's elite social class…if you saw a person approaching and turned away, refusing to even nod your head to acknowledge them and acting as if they weren't even there, it was considered a deadly insult. It was called the "cut direct" to ignore someone like that, and it could result in duels over the honor of the person so cut. -Rhi

*

It was dark and cozy, there where she was. Buffy…for she did remember her name…had expected light. Wasn't that what they all said she'd find? A tunnel or something? Shouldn't her mom be here to welcome her? It didn't matter anyway. She was so tired. She'd fought so hard and for so long. It seemed fitting, somehow to her that she should die at the fangs of a vampire. Maybe she could just rest here in the dark for a while before she tried to find the light.

*

Giles sat by Buffy's bed. He was unsure of what he was even feeling. He had finally allowed Angel and Spike into the private room, but only because Buffy hadn't awakened and Giles knew that if anyone could do so, it would be her undead lover. *Lover…ha!* He scoffed in his head. Angel had fed on her once before and now, apparently, Buffy was food for whatever childe Angel happened to have around at the time. Giles didn't care that the first time had not been of Angel's conscious volition, nor that apparently, this time hadn't been chosen by Spike. The fact remained that his Slayer's twisted relationship with Angel had caused her irreparable harm now on several occasions. There was no question but that he, as her Watcher, must put a stop to it immediately. *As soon as she wakes up,* he thought, *this demented triangle will end.*

*

Spike was uneasy and the Watcher only made him more so. Physically, the blond vampire had never felt better. New strength flowed through every limb, and with the chip gone from his head, he could think about doing all sorts of nasty things to the officious doctors and condescending interns who wafted in and out of the Slayer's room without so much as a by your leave.

Problem was, he didn’t want to leave her side to do it. He'd wanted the Slayer before, yes, certainly. After all, he was undead, not dead, and she was a tight little package. But now, Spike sensed a deeper connection to her residing within him and it filled him with dread. He had no real conscious memory of his awakening this time, but he recalled with vivid senses the feeling of sinking his fangs deep into her neck and his thoughts at the time. *Mine,* he remembered feeling.

It was the way a vampire marked a mate, but Angelus had already taken Buffy to mate, when he was poisoned, so how could Spike have marked her at all? He wanted to rip the bandages away from her neck to see if his mark remained. The Slayer's extraordinary healing powers had erased the Master's bite as if it had never been there. She carried no scars from any of her many battles. The only scar that remained was Angel's Mark, his claim upon her. Spike knew that she didn't mind…he's seen her run her fingers over it in times of stress, as if the Mark somehow comforted her. If Spike's Mark remained, he wondered if, despite all his sire's attention and care, he would be undead another night. Somehow, he doubted that Angel would let him continue unlife once he discovered that his childe had Marked his Mate.

*

Angel sat and brooded, racked with guilt over what he had done, again, to his love. Buffy lay there, so pale and still, and all Angel could think was, *it's my fault again. I'm destroying her.*

*

Buffy had tired, finally, of just curling up in the dark. She had drifted for a while, not thinking of anything. But now it was time to do something. She headed off in a random direction, walking slowly forward through the amorphous dark and became aware, slowly, of something tugging her back the way she had come.

She turned and looked back and saw, very faintly, two silver cords. They stretched out behind her as far as her eyes could see, faintly sparkling in the dusky dark. Buffy looked down at herself and was surprised to see that the cords were attached to her. They came from her heart. She reached out and grabbed one of them and tugged.

*

Angel sat bolt upright in his chair, startled into speaking. "Buffy?" he said, glancing at her.

Giles looked at him tiredly. "What is it, Angel?"

"I…I don’t know. For a moment it was as if I could…feel her somehow…as if she was touching me. It's nothing, I guess…." His voice trailed off, perplexed at the odd feeling.

*

The cord hadn't moved when she pulled on it. It seemed almost elasticky, she thought. *I'll try the other one and see what happens…* She grabbed the other cord and pulled, with all of her considerable Slayer strength. She felt it tighten against something on the other end, but still saw nothing. Shrugging her shoulders, Buffy decided she might as well walk the way the silver cords went and see what she was attached to.

*

Spike was pulled from his chair behind Angel's by a force unknown to him and smashed headfirst into Buffy's hospital bed. "What the blooming hell?" he yelled, holding his head and jumping up to glare around the room at his unseen foe.

Giles leapt to his feet, glaring at Spike. "Get away from her, you bloody bastard! You're the reason she's in here, you and that thrice-damned sire of yours. If it were up to me, you'd both be dust under my feet."

Spike snarled back, "Oi! I didn't do anything. Something pulled me into the Slayer's bed! I mean, now, that is…" he backtracked a little, glancing at his sire in consternation.

"Spike," Angel said, turning to him, "did it feel like…Buffy? Like she was, I don't know, pulling on you somehow?"

"Ya, Sire," Spike confirmed, rubbing his head gingerly where it had smacked into the bed. "And she hasn't gotten any gentler since she fell asleep, either," he added ruefully.

Giles moved to Buffy's side and began speaking her name. "Buffy, can you hear me? Come back to us, Buffy. Please. We need you. Buffy!"

*

Buffy had followed the silver cords for what seemed like an eternity already. They stretched before her, never ending or going anywhere in particular. Then suddenly, without warning, she ran headlong into a wall. It looked the same as the dark surrounding her on every other side, but it was definitely a wall. A dark, soft wall with the cords embedded in it. She couldn't see what was on the other side and pulling on the cords didn't do anything. Buffy looked behind her and realized that the cords had somehow contracted. They didn't lay like used twine on the ground, they still pulled her, in their springy way to the wall.

But how was she to get through it? Buffy wondered if she really even wanted to get through it. Here in the dark it was so quiet and peaceful. She wasn't afraid here. There were no loud male voices threatening her safety, no sister slayers betraying and using her. No friends needing rescue. No lovers demanding more, then leaving her. She could choose to stay here, she realized. Nothing could force her to go through that wall.

But the cords…they tugged at her somehow, and she realized that she knew them, knew their feel. They were cold, yet alive in some odd way and they felt slightly different. The one felt like love. Overwhelming and intense, painful and passionate. Undying. The other felt more like need. Desire was part of it, but desperate, utter need was the strongest feeling she got from it. She put a name to it, running small hands caressingly over the cord.

*

Spike fell to the floor, a dreamy smile plastered on his face. Angel pulled him to his feet and Spike looked at him as if drunk. Angel could sense his childe's immediate arousal and was perplexed at Spike's sudden mood shift. "What is the matter with you?" he hissed.

Spike shook his head and looked at Angel in shock. "She…she touched me. Somewhere…inside. It felt…GOD!" He fell to the floor again, and gasped in pleasure. Then suddenly it stopped.

*

Buffy reached out and touched the other cord. This one was thicker, stronger…older somehow and she knew immediately who it connected her to. She ran her hands over it desperately, knowing, now that she had to go back through the wall. She had to be with him…them again. They were her anchors and she needed them as much as they needed her. She caressed the cord harder, pulling on it and grabbing the other one before pushing against the soft wall as she walked forward.

*

It was Angel's turn to fall, writhing to the floor as Giles looked at both vampires as if they'd lost their undead minds. Angel called out as the sensations grew stronger, "Buffy!"

Spike was calling her name, too, now. "Buffy, god, Slayer, come back to us!"

"Beloved," Angel moaned, both hands clutched to his chest as he convulsed in what seemed to be overwhelming pleasure.

Giles was unsure of whether to run for a doctor or pray to the heavens. Deciding that explaining the vampires' convulsions and lack of respiration or pulse might be awkward at best, the Watcher contented himself with praying desperately to whatever might be listening that his Slayer could return to him now, before he had to watch any more of the erotic show currently being enacted on the floor.

*

The wall gave way slowly as Buffy pulled herself along on the cords. They were her guides, through this dark, soft space, her only chance of finding a way out. She pulled harder.

*

Spike and Angel were no longer speaking, just moaning and thrashing on the floor in agonized rapture. Giles held Buffy's hand and called to her, determined that she respond. "Buffy," he said sternly. "You've rested enough. It's time to wake up. This minute, young lady! Please, Buffy!"

*

She could hear now, vaguely, as if through cotton or water. The voice…it sounded almost like Giles. She listened to it and pulled even harder on the cords. Suddenly, with a tangible pop, she fell through the wall and into her own body. It felt weak, somehow. Drained. Then she remembered what had happened.

Giles was clutching her hand and crying, smiling delightedly and kissing her cheek with more emotion than she'd seen from him in a year. "Buffy! Are you alright? Can you speak? Please, darling girl, say something."

"Is Spike ok?" she asked in a weak voice.

Giles scowled. Glancing down at the floor, he nodded. "You saved him. God knows why. But he's as undead as ever."

Confirming his words, the blond vampire climbed slowly into her view. "Jesus Christ, Slayer, next time, could we do that in bloody private? Don't need to put on a bloomin show for the whole ward, do we?" His scowl was delighted and he began grinning ear to ear at her, leaning forward to grab her hand and kiss it gently.

Angel pulled himself up from the floor, shaking his shaggy head and smiling ruefully. "For once, I agree with Spike, Buffy. That was a bit intense for public viewing. Not that I mind," he added quietly, staring at her face with adoration and love.

Giles frowned at the vampires touching his Slayer. It was wrong. They were…well if not evil precisely, at the very least, dark. And Spike *was* evil, he'd said so repeatedly. They shouldn't be touching her. Shouldn't be allowed in the same room with her. But he saw the way Buffy gazed at both of them and knew he had lost this battle before he even fought it.

They were tied together somehow, this had proven that conclusively. He would have to find a way to work around it…somehow. Besides, he thought, gazing down at Buffy's lovely face. It was worth it. Her life was worth any price. He kissed her gently on the forehead, surreptitiously wiping the tears from his eyes.

Buffy looked up at her watcher and realized how drawn he appeared. "Giles, geeze, you look like death! Haven't you gotten any sleep?"

Giles laughed ruefully. "Not lately, dear girl. Perhaps I'll head home for a bit of a rest, that is…if you don't need me?"

"Nope, I'm fine. Actually, how about if I come with you? I feel great, never better and you know I hate hospi…"

"No!" Three male voices yelled at her simultaneously.

Giles looked surprised for a moment, then nodded reluctantly. The two would take care of her, whether she wished it or not. *She would be safe with them…as safe as any Slayer could ever be,* he thought sadly.

"Watch over her while I'm gone," he said to them, leaning over to touch her hair gently.

"Bye, Giles…and…thanks," she said, looking deeply into his eyes for a moment. He knew, then that she recognized his doubts and concerns and was grateful to him for not denying her the two vampires she so obviously cared for. He walked slowly from the room, wondering, not for the first time, what insane path his Slayer would take him down now.
 

It had been a never-ending plane ride home, not Willow's favorite thing at all. She felt much better with her feet planted firmly on the ground, thank you very much. At least she had Tara by her side, though. The redhead gazed lovingly at her graceful lover, wanting to dance for joy at the sight of her hesitant smile and lovely face. *Tara is so good,* she thought. *So kind and loving and beautiful and…* there she went again, babbling in her head. At least she hadn't said it out loud this time. Had she? No, no one was looking at her strangely. She leaned back in the cab and waited to arrive back at the dorm.

They paid the fare and reluctantly parted ways to go to their separate rooms. Willow had so much she wanted to tell Buffy, but she also regretted the necessity of sleeping apart from Tara after so long together. They'd traveled from hostel to hostel, exploring Europe and studying all summer long and it had been bliss. Pure bliss. Willow just hoped that Buffy was a bit more…communicative by now. She'd been kind of…withdrawn when they'd left. She hoped it wasn't because of the "gay thing," but wondered if Buffy was truly as ok with it as she'd claimed. Time to see, she guessed.

Willow unlocked the door and entered their room, dropping her bags on the floor and reaching for the light. She flipped it on and turned. Buffy's things were gone. Cleared out. It was as if she'd never been there at all. Willow's side was just as she'd left it, so she was sure that it wasn't thieves, but why else would Buffy's things be missing? She'd been doing so well in her classes. She'd really seemed to find her niche at college, not like high school where she missed more classes than she attended. Willow supposed that it was a sign of how truly intelligent Buffy was that she'd managed to pass at all, given the lack of time she'd had to devote to it.

*It must be me,* Willow thought. *She's so freaked about the lesbian thing she left. She's gotten a new roommate and left me. Oh, goddess, she's my best friend! How could she do this to me? What…what should I do?* She sat down on the dusty bed and cried at her friend's desertion.

*

Giles was exhausted. He'd returned home and barely made it to his bed after leaving Buffy with Spike and Angel at the hospital. "Crashed" was the term he'd heard Buffy use, and it certainly seemed appropriate. Upon waking at the unheard of hour of eleven, he rose, showered and made tea. Sitting down at his desk with a steaming cuppa settled him a bit, but he remained deeply conflicted about Buffy's situation.

From their riveting performance on the floor of the hospital room, it was clear that Buffy was linked not only to Angel but now to Spike as well. Risible as it may have been to watch the two vampires writhing in ecstasy, Giles was deeply troubled by the implications of the act. If Buffy could somehow affect the vampires in that manner, it was likely that they held some reciprocal power over her. What would that mean for her as a Slayer?

Angel had taken Spike to LA to get the chip removed and Giles assumed he had been successful. That meant that Buffy was tied in some arcane way to a vampire who not only lacked a soul and bragged on about his evil ad nauseum, but was now completely free to wreck havoc on the very populace that Buffy was Chosen to protect. Giles poured a spot of scotch into his tea, his hands shaking at the thought. God help her…god help them all.

*

Buffy slept under the watchful eyes of Spike. Angel had headed home to get some much needed blood and rest. He'd been unable to hide his drained condition from his childe. Angel had given him far too much of his own blood, borrowed though it might be, to stay conscious much longer. Spike snorted to himself, amused by the situation. Here he was, chock full of Sire and Slayer's blood and rarin' to go and he was sitting on his arse by a hospital bed watching over a snip of a girl, instead of out wrecking havoc on the unsuspecting populace. *Some Big Bad, you are, boy,* he sneered inwardly at himself, still gazing lovingly at the Slayer.

*Chit's got you wrapped around her little finger, no doubt about that, William. Trouble is, it feels bloody good. Hell, if I can just get her to do whatever it was that had me…and the Pouf…down on the floor like that once a month, I'll be the blinkin' happiest vamp unalive, and that's the truth.*

*She's so tiny. Looks so fragile, lying there all pale and still.* His preternatural hearing picked up the steady sound of her heartbeat, slightly faster than a normal human's even in sleep. *Poor little thing,* he thought. He'd never really considered what her lot must be, but being called as a slayer when she turned 15, kicked out of school at 16, then losing the Pouf's soul for him when he was 17 plus all the mayhem that had occurred since then, hardly fit anyone's notion of a well-balanced life, even an undead evil thing like himself.

*Have to change that for her, somehow…* he thought. *Help the Scoobs get her out of the darkness a bit more and into the fun. Ha, like they're gonna welcome either of us. Fuck 'em all anyway. Spike's not neutered anymore. Now I can go out and play with the other puppies all I want. They'll find that out the hard way if they give my Slayer a rough time.*

Author's Note: I'm sure I don't need to inform you all of this, since you are, as a group, highly intelligent. However, just so we're clear, this is AU. My Spike didn't try to rape Buffy. My Spike, conflicted as he is, is far too in love with the Slayer to harm her in that particular way, at least, he has been so far. Now that the chip's out…well, you'll just have to keep reading, won't you? --Rhi

*

Giles was pulled from his reverie by frenzied banging on his door. He rose and grabbed a crossbow, moving to the door and opening it cautiously. One never knew what might be lurking outside, even in the daylight hours.

The lurker turned out to be a mightily distraught Willow. Giles motioned her inside and she collapsed upon him in an alarming and completely emotional way. The staid Watcher was completely taken aback by this turn of events and dropped the crossbow to the floor, luckily not triggering it in the process, as he tentatively hugged the crying wiccan.

"Willow, my dear, whatever is the matter? Is something wrong with Buffy?" he asked in alarm, concluding that Willow had been to hospital and seen the drained Slayer.

"Yes, yes, it's Buffy! She's left!"

"She's gone? Gone where, whatever for? Does Spike know? Why didn't Angel contact me?" Giles turned to the phone, hoping he might be able to contact Angel at his cell number, which the vampire had handed him the previous day.

"Spike? Angel? Huh? Giles, Angel's in LA, and Spike? Why would he know anything about Buffy?" Willow asked, totally perplexed at the Watcher's response.

"Spike was at hospital with her, Willow. When did she leave? Did she say where she was going? What happened?"

"Um, Giles, still needing way more info here. Was Buffy in the hospital? Is that why…but that still doesn't explain why her stuff is missing and why Spike…what does Spike have to do with her? Where's Riley? And how did Angel get involved?" Willow was growing more confused, not less, with every word that Giles spoke.

"Stop!" he ordered. "Willow, calm yourself. Now, let's start again. Buffy is missing from hospital?"

"No, Giles, Buffy is missing from our room. Her stuff is all gone. I thought she wigged out about my being gay and decided to leave. What do you mean about the hospital? Did she get hurt? Did she move back home with her mom?" Willow was getting the feeling that she'd missed an awful lot this summer in Europe.

"Willow, Buffy had to leave university. Her mother died," Giles said gently. "She's in hospital because Spike drained her after Angel took him to her."

"Giles…I don't understand. Buffy's mom is…dead?" Willow's voice broke on the last word and she crumpled into Giles's arms.

He attempted to comfort her as she cried, muttering "There, there," to her and patting her awkwardly on the back. "Yes, dear. She died of a stroke, I believe, and Buffy had to leave school shortly thereafter. A great deal has happened whilst you’ve been away, Willow. Buffy has, well…changed. Much has happened to her. I'm not sure how to tell you all of it, or even if she'd want me to. I must speak with her first," he said, contemplating the Slayer's reaction to his spilling her secrets to her friends without her permission or knowledge.

"Oh, goddess, Giles, Buffy had no one here when it happened, did she? I mean, Tara and I were away, and Xander and Anya went road tripping…are they back yet? But, wait, what about Riley…he was spending the summer here with the Initiative. Wasn't he here for her when it all happened?" Willow was confused. The last she'd seen of Riley, he'd been head over heels in love with Buffy, even if she hadn't fully reciprocated the emotion. Honestly, she'd seemed to be trying to feel something, but incapable of it. Willow knew she hadn't let him do more than kiss her. But she was right to wait till she was ready. The fiasco with Angel had scarred her in ways Willow was sure Buffy hadn't fully come to terms with.

"Um, er, ah, I believe that Riley ended their relationship soon after you departed, Willow. You will have to wait and speak to Buffy about it. I can't really divulge her confidences to you without permission," Giles said, uncomfortably.

Willow nodded. "Of course, I understand Giles. I'm just glad it wasn't me…I mean, I'm not glad that Buffy's mom died, of course…or that she had to leave school. Or that Riley broke up with her…goddess! I just mean, I'm glad it wasn't me. That she wasn’t…isn't gone because of me…and, and Tara, I mean…" she stuttered to a stop, nonplussed at speaking about any of this with Giles of all people. *Quick, change the subject, Willow!* "So, um, Giles, have you…have you heard from Xander?" she asked quickly.

"No, I've not heard a word nor, indeed, received a message since I returned to Sunnydale. One hopes that Xander and Anya" he rolled his eyes at that pairing, "have um, enjoyed their vacation and are returning forthwith?! I do expect their return any time now," he said.

"Ok, well, what room is Buffy in? You said Spike drained her with Angel's help? But how are they together? And why would Angel help Spike drink Buffy's blood? I thought that Angel marked Buffy for his own when he was poisoned? I mean, I read in one of your books that that was what the mark meant…" Willow's voice trailed off as Giles glared at her.

"Willow," he said sternly, "I don't recall giving you permission to read that particular book. In fact, I believe that was in my private collection. How, precisely, did you come to read anything at all about vampire marking and other rituals? Hmm?"

Willow blushed a brilliant crimson. "Um, Buffy wanted to…ah, I was just curious and you were out that one afternoon and left the cage unlocked and all those books just called to me and I might have browsed through a few…" her voice died as he glared at her.

"You don't need to cover for Buffy, Willow. I'm certain that she inveigled you into snooping through those books to get information for her concerning Angel. Especially since I was so…troubled about the continued relationship after his return from Hell" he added, honestly, remembering his reaction when he'd seen Angel standing outside his door on Christmas Eve. He couldn't blame Buffy for failing to ask him about the mark Angel had placed on her neck. Goodness knows, Giles and Xander had practically attacked him after he'd brought Buffy to hospital the night she had saved him.

Giles winced in remembered shame. He'd known that Angel would never purposely harm Buffy, known that Angel would gladly die for the Slayer. But still, he'd joined Xander in accusing the vampire of attacking her after Faith had poisoned him. It was only after speaking with Buffy in hospital that Giles had learned how far she had gone in her quest to save her lover. That she had tried to force him, and he had crawled from his deathbed to avoid drinking from her. That she pursued him and hit him again and again until finally, with the soul near true death, she had forced the demon to the fore and he had marked her as his own and drained her near to death before Angel was able to control himself. That he had rushed her to safety and suffered the contempt and hatred of her friends and Watcher with not a word to defend himself.

Giles knew that the hatred he felt for Angelus had become displaced to Angel. God knows, Angel had suffered enough for the crimes of his evil alter ego, yet Giles, who above all others should have been able to keep them separate, still shuddered in reaction every time he saw the dark vampire. He couldn't help but be transported back in time to the awful night of Jenny's death and his subsequent torture at the hands of Angelus. He and Angel had enjoyed a camaraderie unusual for the Watcher prior to Angelus's reemergence. They had joked about the callow youth surrounding them, laughed at the Slayer's obsession with fashion and taken turns teasing her about her lack of interest in anything over 20 years old, with the notable exception of her vampiric lover. Angel shared his love of good literature, obscure languages and dialects, and scholarship. Not to mention ancient weapons. All that was lost.

After Angelus, nothing that Angel ever did to atone was enough, not for Giles and certainly not for Xander. And Giles had transferred his despisal of the demon to the soul. He wondered, now, how his hatred had weakened Buffy. Angel had left because of her, but also to protect her. Not only from himself, but from the reactions of those closest to her when she was with him. He'd thought, perhaps rightly, that without him to defend, Buffy would have an easier time relating to her Watcher and friends.

Unfortunately, without him there to defend her, she'd fallen to Faith. Giles knew, unquestioningly, within his heart that Angel would never have mistaken Faith for Buffy. Angel would have realized the danger immediately and acted to save his lover, no matter what the cost to himself. Instead, Buffy had been raped, lost her education, lost her mother, lost her friends and herself. That she was now, slowly, recovering, was due in no small part to Angel and to his childe, Spike, who had unaccountably stepped forward to help her.

How could Giles tell that to Willow? Tell her that she'd failed her friend and abandoned her. Inform her of the dire consequences of that abandonment? He didn't even know where to begin.