“What about them?” Angelus questioned, honestly perplexed. “What about Doyle and everyone?” 

“Yes, them” Buffy hissed. Jealously slammed through her at the thought of these humans who got to be with her husband day in and day out when for so very long she had nothing. “You stayed with them all these years, helped them, but you never came home to help me, never came home…to me.” 

Tears welled within her, threatening to burst. But she refused to let them, refused to allow him that weakness as well. She always knew he was the only one to ever make her cry, the only one to have that hold over her. Now Buffy wondered if that hold was entirely one sided. Did he even care? 

“Why can’t you be bothered to return to where…to who…you belong? Why,” It was a whisper, her grief and longing momentarily outweighing her anger. “This Willow you defend. Is she another one, Angelus?” Again, it was a pained whisper even though Buffy knew her anger was righteous and her questions valid. 

“Is she another one I need to worry about finding in your bed tonight? Or will you just slither away during the night, the moment you think I’m asleep and join her in her bed? Isn’t she a little young for you, lover?” Buffy forced her voice to grow stronger, forced her insecurities away and her need to break down in his arms. “But oh, that’s right. You like them young and naïve, don’t you baby. It makes it so much easier to delude them into believing you give a damn about someone other than yourself.” 

She laughed then and taunted, “No wonder you have no desire to return home; once a two timing bastard always one.” 

He roared again, and even with the silencing spell Gunn swore he heard that sound. The First wondered how strong Oz’s magicks were and if maybe he should herd the arguing couple into the privacy of their rooms. Just because they couldn’t be heard didn’t mean they couldn’t be seen. 

Grabbing his wife by her forearms, Angelus jerked her to him, crushing her lips with his as he poured every ounce of love, of passion, of loneliness, and of need into that kiss. “Is that what you think?” And his voice was hard, demanding. “Is that what you think happened all these years? You think that I was traipsing around this…place, fucking anything I could?” 

He laughed again, his eyes all but bleeding red. “You were there, Buffy. You were there in our dream-bond with me. Or don’t you remember?” 

“Oh, I remember,” she confirmed. “I remember begging you to come home, I remember you refusing to. All this time waiting for you to return home, to return to me; alone always alone. What a mockery you’ve made out of my feelings, my loyalty, my fidelity!” Her voice rose again, and she lashed out, physically with the punch she sent to his midsection and verbally with her next words, “Stay here with them, then, and rot. I don’t need another beating to drum the message home for me this time. You don’t want me? Fine. There are many others that do, because I won’t waste another moment on a man who won’t live with me and love me and our child through the good times and the bad.” 

Angered beyond anything he could remember, Angelus shook her again. “If you so much as touch another man, I’ll rip his fucking head off and make you watch! You’re mine, Buffy, my wife, my lover, my Eternal. No one gets to even think about you, let alone touch you!” 

The words were roared, the meaning clear behind the jealously as he shook her again, lips once more finding hers in an attempt to show her, to prove to her, the truth of his words. He broke off abruptly, looking into her eyes, more green now than purple, eyes that were full of tears she didn’t want to shed. 

“Yes,” she agreed simply. “I am.” Raising her hand to his face, tracing the ridges around his forehead and eyes, she asked, “And now you see why I could never do that? Why I never did? Why even the thought of you believing that I did hurt so much? Why I couldn’t forgive you for the disbelief you had over my pregnancy?” 

Angelus closed his eyes at her words but didn’t drop her arms. His face reverted from his vampiric one and when he finally, finally opened his eyes, they were a deep brown once more. Priestess, what had he done? 

“Can you even forgive me, now?” He asked, the whisper so quiet Buffy strained to hear it. 

“I don’t know, Angelus. I could have,” she admitted, “At first, when you promised to come back to me. But then…the soul…and you never did.” 

“You understand why I didn’t?” He questioned, looking deep within her. Their newly reopened bond lay open before them and Angelus gingerly traversed the space, needing not only to be once more connected to her in this primal and intimate way, but needing to know her answer. Her true answer, the one she felt, not just the one she said. 

“No,” Buffy answered honestly. “No, I don’t. Did you think I wouldn’t love you with a soul?” 

“How could you, baby? I was…am a different person. I’m not the same man you married.” 

“First question,” she said her eyes completely green now. Neither knew they were almost completely alone here, with only Gunn as guard, neither realized they still stood in the middle of the hotel lobby in a city in the Mortal Realms surrounded by a silencing spell. They were used to privacy, it was the way of their world. Their world that included only the two of them, as it always had. As it, hopefully, would again. 

“How could I love one part of you but not the other? How could I claim to be your Eternal, claim to be your wife, share a bond with you that runs so deep you can feel everything I feel, hear everything I am and do and say? If I loved only part of you then none of what we did share would ever have been.” 

She smiled at his look and continued. “Secondly, you are the same man I married. If you weren’t, this fight would never have happened, you wouldn’t care whether I was here or not, and you wouldn’t care about our past, about Ariana, about our safety. About me.” 

Angelus stared at his wife for several long moments as he digested her words. Not even realizing he spoke, the Ancient admitted, “When the gypsies first…cursed me, I wasn’t sure what happened, all I knew was that everything changed and I was no longer the soulless, vicious Ancient you married. The one who took whatever he wanted and didn’t even care to know there were consequences. I didn’t know how to silence the voices screaming within my head, the thousands of creatures I’d killed over the years. Human, vampire, elfin, it didn’t matter, they all cried out at me. I wanted to return to you, Buffy, I wanted that so much. But how could I expect you to want me, to love me, when I couldn’t even stand myself?” 

“Oh, baby,” she whispered, bringing his head down and touching her lips softly to his. “Let me ask you one last thing,” she said eventually. “If you couldn’t stand it, if you hated yourself so much, then why didn’t you end it? It was a simple matter of walking into this Realm’s sunlight. Why didn’t you?” 

Angelus looked at his wife as if she’d just told him she was planning on opening a cookie shop on Market Street in LA. “If I did that, Buffy, as my joined and bound mate, you’d die as well. Your life would become mortal; you’d grow old, and die. I love you, I couldn’t do that.” 

A faint hint of triumph glowed in her eyes as she smiled. “Then how could you even wonder if I’d accept you with your soul?” 

Gunn watched the couple as they continued to talk, obviously no longer arguing with each other. Good, the First thought. Maybe they were finally working some of their many problems out. He shifted his eyes away from them, smirking at their closeness; whereas before their closeness signaled hostility, not it looked like they were straining to get closer to the other. 

Good, he thought again. Maybe now things could revert to normal.
~~~~~~~~~~
Oz knocked on the door, hoping that he wasn’t interrupting anything. 

Tara opened the door moments later, the smile on her face growing wider as she saw her clan-brother. Silently gesturing him in, Tara looked at Willow before bowing out. There were things she needed to think on and she had a feeling the couple in the room wanted privacy. 

“If you need me,” she told Oz quietly, “I’ll be in Father’s room.” She nodded to Rupert’s rooms and left, her First following her. 

Willow looked at the man – Elf – before her. She had about a dozen questions for him and didn’t know where to begin. Actually, she had so many questions about so many things, she felt as if her brain was going to explode. 

“I thought you were the queen’s guard,” she said as she stood from her position on the floor. 

“I’m her First, yes,” Oz admitted and placed his staff near the door. “It’s a little complicated, but basically there are others who guard her as well, I’m just the main one.” 

“Do you call them Seconds and Thirds?” 

Oz laughed, “No, we just call them Royal Guards. Everyone needs sleep, needs to eat, needs time for other things, reports, social lives, and the like. But we’re always on duty. As Her Majesty’s First, my duty requires me to be with her more often than not.” Of course that was a recent happening, since…well, since Angelus’ leaving. 

Willow nodded but immediately asked, “What about the other one?” 

“Other one?” 

“The other guard, the one always with you.” 

“Gunn?” At Willow’s nod Oz frowned. How to explain the situation? It was entirely too complicated for a simple telling and frankly, not Willow’s concern. “That’s a story for another time, I think,” he said and changed the subject. “Tell me about you. Have you worked in Los Angeles for long?” 

Willow nodded, noting the change of subject and wondering what the story was that Oz didn’t want to tell. “A few years now, yes. We’re from Sunnydale, originally, Faith, Xander, Riley, Cordelia, and I.” 

“And where is Sunny Dale?” Oz wasn’t familiar with the layout of this Realm and had no idea how close or far away certain things were.

“It’s about a two hour drive north,” Willow clarified. “There’s a Hellmouth there.” Oz frowned again at her terminology and she sighed. She wasn’t used to people not knowing what she was talking about…maybe she needed to get out more. “It’s this big mystical…crater like thing that’s somehow connected to a hell dimension. Actually, Wes never gave us a detailed description as to where it was connected, but when it opens horrible, ugly, tentacle things try to get out and eat you.” She shuddered at an obvious memory. “You don’t have Hellmouths where you’re from?” 

“No,” he shook his head, “We don’t have anything like that. If this Sunny Dale is such a bad mystical place, why did you leave?” 

“Ah, Faith had a warrant out for her arrest, she…sorta blew up the school, killed the mayor who was trying to ascend into some purebred demon. The firemen, who’d been informed to be on alert at the high school already, were late and the fire spread to several surrounding buildings.” Willow swallowed a grin as she finished, “Half the town was destroyed in that fire.” 

“And they blamed the slayer, Faith?” Willow nodded. “But did they not know she saved them? If this demon truly was a purebred, then everyone’s lives were in danger, were they not?” 

“Oh, yeah,” Willow nodded eagerly, “Totally. But Sunnydale’s different. There’s this serious mentality that what you don’t want to know about really doesn’t exist. Everyone ignored the evilness in the town and went on with their lives. The government sent in troops to help rebuild, but these troops were really led by an evil madwoman, which is probably redundant, but anyway. Maggie Walsh was more interested in torturing the demons they caught and experimenting on them than in killing them and helping the town recover. 

“Faith found out what Walsh was doing, hooked up with Riley who was actually a part of this government program, and…killed her. It was a complete accident, Walsh was trying to kill Faith and Faith defended herself,” Willow said hotly as if Oz questioned the action, defending her friend. 

“But the town relied on Walsh and the help her program promised and put a warrant out for her arrest. She and Wes went to LA to escape the warrant, having a slayer in jail was going to do no one any good, but there was this demon bounty hunter after her. Doyle was apparently looking for her, he and Angel, ah, Angelus saved her, and we all moved here. Somehow the charges were dropped. No one ever found out who did so, or why.” 

Oz nodded as he listened to Willow’s story. “How did you become friends with the slayer, were you always able to cast magicks?” 

Willow spent the reminder of Oz’s hour break telling him about herself, how she met Faith, how she tried her hand at a few simple spells to help her friends, and why she helped, why she fought to keep the evil of this Realm at bay. She wanted to ask Oz about himself, wanted to ask about that story with Gunn – what a strange name, Willow thought, was it a nickname of some sort? She wanted to know more about elves, about their land, about Oz’s place in this vampire society. 

So many questions, Willow was a naturally curious woman, her mind quick and agile, able to process and hold vast amounts of information on any number of subjects. Oz was impressed with her intelligence and thought that it was a show of character that she chose to use that intelligence to help her world rather than doing for herself. 

His interest in her skyrocketed. Reluctantly standing, several moments before he was to relieve Gunn, Oz took Willow’s hand and kissed the back of it. He smiled at her blush, finding it endearing. 

“I must relieve Gunn now, Willow, but it’s been pleasurable speaking with you. Shall I have Tara return?” 

Willow nodded and Oz left, walking out the door and instructing Tara’s First that Willow was again free. He started down the hallway, wondering how his mistress and her husband fared. When he spotted Gunn at the doorway to Angelus’ rooms, he had his answer. 

“They decided to continue their…conversation,” Gunn said in an impassive voice, “In his room.” 

“Any problems?” Oz asked, knowing Gunn would understand the question. He’d never told his friend and counterpart about Buffy’s beating at Angelus’ hands, but knew the other First saw what happened. Buffy was bruised for a couple days afterwards, despite Tara and his attempts to heal the worst of it. 

“No, none. Whatever they said to each other,” and it was clear Gunn was just as happy not knowing what that was, “All was well.” 

Without another word, Oz took his position by the door as Gunn wandered down the hallway. He was exhausted and wasn’t sure why. Planning on sleeping his hour away, the Vampire First wondered why it was always he on guard when his Master and Queen decided to…make up. 

Willow stared after the Elfin First and wondered. There was something about him that drew her in, something that captured her. She hadn’t thought at all about the rest of the entourage while talking with him, not about Angelus, except when Oz pointedly asked in regards to the vampire’s time here. 

The only thing she thought about, she was shocked to realize as Tara made her way back to Willow’s room…was Oz. 

Gunn walked down the hallway to the rooms designated as theirs during this stay. He couldn’t wait until they returned to the kingdom; he hated sharing a sleeping area. He was turning towards the door when a movement to his right caught his attention. Looking in that direction, he saw Faith standing off to the side of the railing, looking over into the lobby. 

Her arms were tight around her waist and a fine tremor shook her body. Gunn admitted, as he started in her direction, that she was a fine looking woman, even for a slayer. Thick dark hair, the attitude; he’d seen her fight and was suitably impressed with her skills and strength. Now, however, she just looked lost. Vampire senses being what they were, he senses other tings coming from her, too. 

“Are you okay?” Gunn asked when he stopped several feet from her, a respectable distance from one warrior to the next. 

“Yeah,” she said but didn’t sound it. “Peachy.” 

He stared over the railing with her as they watched Wes gesture to Riley, silently beckoning the former soldier into the Watcher’s office. Even from this distance, if he concentrated enough, Gunn was sure he could hear the conversation. A part of him wanted to listen in, not trusting either Watcher of soldier in the least. But something said Faith needed someone to talk with, he could all but smell the despair coming off her, the confusion. 

It looked like he’d just volunteered himself. 

“Yes, you look it. Do you always shake like this?” 

“Only when around twenty or so beings everything in me screams for me to kill.” She wanted it to sound cocky, but it came out in a whispered, shaky voice instead. “There’re too many of you here, and it’s sending my slayer senses wild.” 

“I didn’t realize,” Gunn said. But then he hadn’t really ever thought of how a Slayer did what she did, let alone how. “We can’t leave,” he apologized, “But we can move to another floor if it’ll help.” Where the hell had those words come from? 

But Gunn knew where. He’d watched the slayer, this Faith. He’d seen the way she protected his Ancient, saw the way she helped him, watching his back even when it was clear Angelus didn’t need that help. For protecting his Ancient’s life when he, Angelus’ First, could not was something Gunn realized he own Faith for. And he saw something of himself in her. 

After his Sire and Master was killed, Gunn fought Angelus’ First to the death in his attempt to reach Angelus himself. It was destructive, and Gunn knew that, but it was better to die in battle than in humiliation. What he hadn’t counted on was finding a kindred in Angelus. Oh, at first they hardly got along, but over time Gunn realized that Angelus could’ve had him killed, couldn’t tortured him until Gunn begged for his final death. 

To this day Gunn didn’t know why Angelus hadn’t. But he saw, as he watched Faith watch the closed office door, that Faith needed the acceptance Angelus offered Gunn. It was a foreign feeling, this need to help. Actually, it made his skin itch. Well, with any luck once listened to Faith, and that annoying voice in the back of his mind that told him they needed her shut up, his skin would also stop itching. 

A vampire could hope. 

“How long have you been a slayer?” 

Faith looked at the vampire for a long time before answering. Once she did, even she was surprised that she answered him. Faith was even more surprised to discover, over the course of the next hour, that Gunn was easy to talk to and had a biting sense of humor coupled with surprising – and uncomfortable – insight into her dealings. With Riley, with Wes, with her friends. Even with her calling. 

Considering he was one of the very creatures she was sworn to protect, that was saying something. 

What she didn’t tell the vampire, as he went to relieve his elfin counterpart, was that she suspected her Watcher of betraying them. Angelus, Buffy…even her. She’d given her word, first to Angelus when they began working together, and then to his wife, that she’d help them in this battle, help them conquer the rebels responsible for such dissident. Faith wondered what Wes was getting out of this. 

More than that, she wondered if she could be the one to betray him, to them. Could she hand over her Watcher, her friend, to beings she knew would kill him? Faith wasn’t sure, but she didn’t want to see Angelus hurt, either. 

What a fucked up position to find herself in, Faith thought as she went to her rooms in an attempt to block everything out, if only for a little while. 

Gunn watched Faith leave the balcony area and head to her rooms. He was able to sense her hiding something. She was conflicted or afraid of something and from Wes and Riley’s secretive behavior, the First conclude that something had to do with them. He didn’t trust the Watcher or the soldier, not with the way Riley stared at his queen. Gunn sighed as he returned to his post by the door. 

Betrayal was heavy in the air. There was, however, nothing to be done but watch the Watcher and Riley closer. And wait for the betrayal to come. Regardless of his burgeoning bond with Faith he would keep a closer eye on them all. 

His first duty was, as always, to his Ancient. Both of them.
~~~~~~~~~~
Do they really want me? Can I live up to everyone’s expectations? Angelus tried to explain to Buffy, finally, truly, explain to her his feelings over the years. 

She argued, several times, that he’d underestimated both her and Ariana. He raised Ariana’s hopes and was planning on stomping on them when he didn’t return. Hers, too, Buffy admitted, her hopes, too. 

“You have legitimate concerns true,” she told him as they sat on the bed in his room, “About returning but you aren’t even willing to try for us, to fight for us. And that may be your biggest betrayal of all. You’ve allowed Ariana and the kingdom to assume that the separation, our separation is at an end.”

“You don’t believe it is?” Angelus questioned, afraid of the answer. 

“I…I don’t know,” she finally answered honestly. “I just don’t know, Angelus. You’re going to devastate Ariana. She’s always had this nebulous image of you that wouldn’t, that couldn’t, ever be tarnished no matter what anyone said about you. It was an image of a father larger than life. Now she’s met the man, now that she has the reality and one which she happens to love…” 

“I don’t want to hurt her,” Angelus swore, “And I don’t want to hurt you. But I can’t, Buffy…I just don’t know how to return.” 

Anger flared up again, but Buffy tempered it as she tried to understand him and explain at the same time. “You aren’t even willing to fight! You’re not willing to fight for me, for her, for us! Sure, this problem is involved, and I’m not saying it could be fixed in a matter of hours, but Angelus, love…look what you’d gain. Your wife and child. No one is saying it will be easy,” And Buffy resisted pounding her point home, physically, “But you won’t even try.” 

Seeing that he was wavering, but not yet fully convinced, Buffy continued, desperate. She’d lied when she said she wasn’t sure the separation was at an end. Even if they weren’t back together, she’d hoped, desperately hoped, that it was. 

“What do you plan on doing, Angelus? Flit in and out of our lives like some kind of mirage? That is assuming you even do that. Never letting us have any sort of resolution or closure? Being as diaphanous as a shadow, not committing, not giving us what we want and need from you, yet unwilling to completely set us free either?” 

Buffy pressed her point, shifting closer. That desperation was stronger now and she needed him to understand. Needed him to need her as much as she did him. “Will we always be left wondering and longing for the what if but denied the reality of it? You encouraged this, Angelus. All of this just by showing yourself to me, by letting me actually find you. By encouraging Ariana to call you father. Don’t disappoint her, Angelus. Don’t…” Buffy paused. Could she admit this? Admit this weakness to him? She had no choice, not if she wanted him back. 

“Please, don’t disappoint me,” she whispered and stared into his eyes, hopeful. 

Long moments passed; the silence in the room thick between the two. Buffy was sure her words hadn’t reached him, sure that the silence from their bond was his blocking it once more. Sure that she’d just showed him her fears, her weaknesses and he was going to still turn his back on her. Was it possible, she wondered, to have one’s heart broken multiple times by the same individual? Or had hers never completely healed and the fragile adhesive holding it together was simply coming apart? 

“I don’t know how,” Angelus finally whispered. “But I want to.”
**********
“Close the door, Riley,” Wes said as he entered his office, surreptitiously looking around for sneaky vampires. Or elves, for that matter. He didn’t trust any of them, so what difference did it make? 

It was odd, Wes admitted, he’d worked with Angel (Angelus) for years and yet still didn’t trust the vampire. Oh, Angelus hadn’t really done anything to cause such blatant and long-lived mistrust, but it was deeply ingrained in Wesley Wyndham-Price to destroy all demons. And that included vampires, even ones with souls who helped out upon occasion. 

The Watcher often wondered if things could’ve been different between him and Angelus. But he’d been raised in the Council, by a strict father who beat into a young Wes the value of upholding the Council’s morals and ideals. To do anything else was unthinkable. Still, it hadn’t stopped Wes from playing ‘what if.’ What if he hadn’t been a child of the Council, what if he hadn’t devoted his life to propagating their ways? Would he still mistrust Angelus as much as he did, or would they have developed a better relationship, one based on trust and friendship as much as work? 

In the end it didn't matter, Wes was who he was, how he was raised and he wasn’t going to change, he doubted very much his ability to do so, anyway. Why bother? This worked for countless Watchers over countless years. There was no need to change. 

“I’ve been approached,” Wesley said in a quiet voice just above a whisper, “By a vampire from an apparently rival clan to Angelus. He’s proposed a deal; we kill Angelus and he hands us the wife and child.” 

Riley snorted. “And you trust him to do so?” 

“Of course not,” Wes said with a look that clearly stated he thought Riley’d lost his mind. “The goal is to double-cross him before he does us. However, I think that it’d benefit us to take this deal; the Council would welcome a chance to…get to know both the queen and princess. Oh, I’m sure this rival vampire, has something else planned other than what he’s told me.” 

“And what was that, what did he tell you?” 

“He wants Angelus’ kingdom.” 

“He’ll leave us alone afterwards?” Wes nodded but Riley didn’t look convinced. “You mean to tell me that this vampire only wants Angelus dead? He doesn’t want anything else to do with us, anything?” 

“He seems to have no interest in anything here. Apparently, and this is only a guess, he wants the power there. Wants to rule Angelus’ kingdom. Although,” Wes said thoughtfully as he continued to think on the situation. “Depending on the line of ascension, he’d have to be of Angelus’ line. If not…” 

Wes looked at Riley, wondering if the soldier followed his line of thinking. “If he’s not, then he’d need to secure his throne.”

“With Buffy,” Riley said as he caught onto what Wes was thinking. “He’d need either her or the daughter to secure his position. And double-cross us in the process.”

“Which means that we’ll have to do so first,” the Watcher agreed to Riley’s unspoken statement. 

“Agreed,” Riley said as he started to plan what could be done. “We should bring Xander into this.” 

“Yes, of course But,” Wes warned, “I don’t think anyone else. Doyle is entirely too friendly and loyal to Angelus and Cordelia follows him. Willow…wouldn’t be best suited for this situation and I don’t want Faith involved.” 

Actually, Wes was worried about Faith’s loyalties as well, but didn’t want to voice them. He was genuinely concerned for his slayer; there wasn’t a doubt as to that. But he didn’t want to test her…and have her come up short. 

“Frankly,” Wes said slowly as he eyed Riley. “I’m concerned about Willow and the amount of time she’s spending with those elves. There are far more impressive beings than an amateurish little girl pretending to be a witch.” Wes said and was relieved with Riley nodded in agreement. 

“I agree. I don’t want them sniffing around Faith, but she is the Slayer. Yet these elves seem unimpressed by her. Doyle is a seer but they’re indifferent to him as well even uninterested. Yet Willow who’s done only a small number of basic spells, they suddenly find fascinating when there are so many others they could be interested in.” 

Saying nothing for a moment as he reevaluated Riley’s position on several things, Wes wondered if he underestimated the former commando. Oh, he knew Riley was friends with Willow, and had been for some time. But this new Machiavellian attitude was almost…Watcher-ish in nature. 

“I think,” Wes stated in as even a voice as he could manage, “That we need to get Willow out of here. The Council would be the best place for her, don’t you agree?” Riley didn’t say anything, but eventually nodded. He was worried, Wes could tell, about Willow, but didn’t see any alternatives. At heart, Riley Finn was a soldier, used to taking orders from a far larger entity than he. When his career with the U.S. Government didn’t work out, he devoted his full talents to the Council. 

“It’d be a huge honor for Willow to study with the Council. They have,” Wes lied, “Expressed interest in her; she’s fought with the Slayer for years, she knows things most wouldn’t. She’d do well with the Council.” 

Of course, in reality it was a combination of the elves paying too much attention to Willow, which equaled only to nefarious reasons. Therefore, it went that the Council wanted her first so the elves couldn’t make use of her. And, if the Council couldn’t find anything, then they would most likely eliminate her. In doing so, they’d negate an unknown element thus heading off possible trouble in the future.
~~~~~~~~~~
“He’s leaving,” Doyle said to his lover. 

“How do you know?” Cordelia asked, worried for him. Doyle was closer to Angelus than any of them, he truly considered the vampire a friend, his best friend. 

“It was part of my second vision, the one I didn’t tell Wes about. The one I haven’t even had a chance to tell Angelus about.” 

He was sitting in one of the chairs, a glass of untouched whisky in hand. Frankly, that’s what scared Cordelia the most; Doyle had yet to touch his drink. Sure, he used to drink to dull the pain, both from the visions and from his past, from the reason he started receiving the visions. Now, now when he was so depressed, revelations about his friend hitting him left and right, and now this leaving thing…Cordelia wondered why Doyle wasn’t hip deep in drink. 

“Did you think he wouldn’t?” 

“Princess, you aren’t helping.” Doyle groused as he finally took a sip, grimacing at it. He wasn’t sure if it was the drink that tasted bad or his mood that soured it, but he set the glass on the side table and rose to wander to the windows. The view wasn’t much; this side of town didn’t exactly lend itself to stellar vistas. But he wasn’t looking, anyway. 

“Did I ever tell you how I first met him?” Doyle asked, not waiting for a reply. “I’d started to look for him, stories of the ‘friendly vampire’ having circulated around the family for generations. I thought he could help me get out of this debt with the Powers. I thought that by helping, the way they wanted me too, I could repay the lives I’d cost by my inactions. If I could only have his help, I thought, then this debt thing would be repaid in half the time.” 

Cordelia said nothing to the familiar story. She’d heard it before, knew it almost by heart and any other time would’ve told Doyle just that. But now…it wasn’t often Cordelia Chase let her barriers down enough for people to see inside, and Allen Francis Doyle was the first to actually find his way past them. She wanted to weep for the hurt in his voice, wanted to cry out at the injustice that the one being he considered his closest friend was leaving. 

Forever. 

But she didn’t. She didn’t say anything as she stood, walking to the window to stand next to him, offering him silent comfort. It was the best she could do. It was the only thing she could do. 

“I didn’t realize that once indebted to the Powers, always indebted.” He smiled at the window but Cordelia knew it was directed at her as he took her hand, placing an absent kiss on the palm. “He did help rescue you, and for that I’ll always be in his debt.” 

“You’re going to miss him,” Cordelia said in a soft voice. “I will too. But we can go on. We belong here, Doyle. We belong here in this city, in this realm, helping fight this fight. He doesn’t. He belongs with his family, his wife and child. Do you begrudge him that?” 

“No,” he snorted, finally facing her. “No, of course not. But…” 

“But you’re going to miss him,” she repeated and smiled at him. “It’s only natural. But he’s been there for your family for centuries, what makes you think he’ll stop just because he’ll no longer be here? If he didn’t care for you, do you really think he’d have let us all move in? I doubt,” she laughed, “He’d have bothered if it hadn’t been for you, baby.” 

Doyle smiled, “Probably.” 

“And it’s not like you can’t keep in touch, right? I mean it doesn’t look like they have phones or the internet, but I’m fairly certain they can write. And with the way these people use magick? It way beats the U.S. Postal Service.” 

He laughed at her comments and agreed. It wouldn’t be the same, but could he really begrudge Angelus the chance to be with his family? No, no he couldn’t. But by the Powers, he’d miss that man. Someone who understood what Doyle was going through, someone who could relate to the confusion and pain.

Gathering Cordelia in his arms, he placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. “I love you, you know that, right?” 

“Of course,” she replied as she kissed him gently, “And I love you.” 

He held her tenderly for long moments, letting her love wash over him. He’d miss Angelus, but he could live without him. He couldn’t live without Cordelia, his princess. She was his everything, his live. How, Doyle wondered, had Angelus lived without his Buffy? The seer didn’t know but at the moment that was the least of his worries. Foremost in his mind was his vision. 

The second part of his vision, the part he hadn’t even told Cordelia, was that he knew the identity of the rebel leader. And what that leader’s plans were. For Angelus, for Buffy, for Ariana. 

Once he told Angelus, Doyle had a feeling no one was going to be safe from the vampire’s wrath.
~~~~~~~~~~
“Really?” Buffy questioned as she stared hard at her husband, “Do you really want to?” Her voice was laced with hope and she couldn’t mask if even if she tried. “Do you want to come home, do you want to try?” 

“Yes,” Angelus agreed, feeling suddenly freer than he had in a long time. “Yes, I do. I,” he faltered here. “I’m not sure if I’ve always wanted to, but some part of me did. Some part of me always wanted to return to you, even with the chance of rejection, the chance you’d kick me out despite your words to the contrary. Besides,” he said again, “I can’t rule the way I used to.” 

“You wouldn’t have to, love,” Buffy assured him with a tender smile. “No one knows of your soul, no one knows, I’ve made sure of that. We’d be together, Angelus, together again. We could do it together.” 

He nodded, drawing her closer, and when she didn’t protest, closer still. Enfolding her in his arms, Angelus wondered how he ever thought to let her go. Oh, his reasons were valid and he wasn’t going to totally dismiss them, not yet, maybe not anytime soon. But with Buffy in his arms, all he could think of was her, was them. Was how she made him feel, whole again, loved, complete. 

“I love you, Buffy,” he whispered into her hair, kissing the crown of her head as she snuggled deeper into his strong embrace. 

“I love you, too, Angelus. Always.” 

She leaned back in his arms then, kissing his lips fully. Things were still tenuous between them, but it was a start, a very good, finally a very strong start. And she intended to solidify that. She loved this man, and she wasn’t about to let him go. Not now, not ever again. Whatever she had to do to keep him, Angelus, King and Ancient of Aurelius, soul or not, was hers and she wasn’t one to let go. Especially when letting him go meant letting go of her heart. 

“Make love to me, Angelus,” she whispered against his lips. “Remind me how it feels.” 

Without a word, he did just that. Angelus kissed her again, letting the constant passion for this woman surface and bubble over. Their earlier coupling, while explosive and passionate, wasn’t this, wasn’t this…reunion. It was strong, fast, angry. Loving, for in the end they couldn’t be anything but, but this, now, Angelus vowed to show Buffy just how much she did mean to him. And again, for one of the very few times in his recent existence, both soul and demon were in full and complete agreement.

Slowly laying her back onto the bed, Angelus trailed his lips down her throat, sucking briefly on the raised tissue of her mate’s mark. When she gasped his name, holding his head closer to her neck, Angelus smiled. Another layer of pain, guilt, blame, and hopelessness peeled away under the love of his wife, under her acceptance. Reluctantly leaving the mark, he traced the edges of her top, appreciation for the garment clear in his eyes as he looked up at the flushed face of his love. 

Just because he didn’t like anyone else looking at his wife in such revealing clothing didn’t mean he couldn’t appreciate it. Of course, he was the only one who could, but that was because Buffy was his. 

His hands, large and cool, slipped under that top, smoothing up her flat stomach to cup her breasts. They’d changed, Angelus thought as he had earlier. They’d grown slightly fuller since the last time he’d seen her in a beautiful sunlit garden, just the two of them. Vaguely Angelus remembered their dreamscape and the changes he’d noticed there. He wondered what else changed, what else he missed. Was this a result of her pregnancy? 

Tugging the shirt over her head, Angelus teased her nipples before covering the straining points with his mouth, sucking hard on the stiff peaks. His teeth grazed first one then the other, spending long, long moments there. He kissed his way down her stomach, his hands leaving her breasts to follow the trail his cool mouth blazed. Her hips, he noticed, were fuller as well, more rounded and flared. 

Unbuttoning the pants he never thought to see her in, Angelus tugged them down her slim legs, still so toned and bronzed, brushing soft kisses over them as he went. She was so beautiful, so hot, he thought, so responsive. Never had he had another woman who responded to him this way, fully, totally, completely. 

Then again, never had any other woman been his. 

Finally, finally she was naked before his heated gaze, her eyes heavy with desire as she stared at him. Buffy’s lips curved and her hands clasped his strong arms, bringing him down to her, on top of her, relishing the weight of him, the feel. Impatient to feel his skin, all that cool pale skin, she yanked on the buttons until his shirt was opened, pulling it down his arms and out of the way, her lips already tasting his chest. 

Trailing her mouth up to the side of his neck where his own mark lay, her small hands worked on his pants, fighting with the belt there. Why, she wondered through the haze that surrounded her mind. Why did he always have to wear such complicated belts? Finally opening the clasp, Buffy worked on the buttons to his soft pants, as Angelus’ mouth continued to assault her skin, arousing her to a fevered pitch. 

Angelus shucked his pants, taking his socks with him as his long fingers caressed Buffy, his eyes closing at the heat she emitted. It’d been so long, too long and he couldn’t wait. Fingers brushing over her straining clit once, twice, a thrill of satisfaction raced through him at her cry. 

“Now, Angelus, please, now!” 

He couldn’t refuse her, couldn’t refuse either of them. Taking her hands in his, Angelus stretched them far over her head, thrusting her breasts out. He kissed each tip, biting down just hard enough to have her hips bucking against him, before thrusting into her. 

Oh, Priestess, she was tight. He felt her legs wrap around his hips, her tiny feet digging into his upper thighs. Angelus stilled for a moment, savoring the feel of her, the feelings he had, always had, with her. Buffy’s mouth found his again and he started to move, one hand traveling down her side to stroke her clit, knowing he couldn’t last long and wanting her to climax for him. 

He was right, it didn’t take long, and within moments Buffy rippled around him, eyes tightly shut, head thrown back, nails digging into the hand that held hers prisoner, his name a chant from her soft lips. Throwing his head back, her name coming from deep within him, Angelus let himself go, emptying everything he had into her waiting body. 

It was long minutes later when he finally moved, rolling onto his side and taking her with him. Holding Buffy close, he kissed gently. “I love you,” he said again. 

“And I you, Angelus, all of you. I don’t care what happened to you, I love you.” 

With those words, he felt something shift within him, something break away and change. And it was as if he was free, finally free, the quiet surrounding him, just as the love and peace from being in his Eternal’s arms surrounded him. A tremor of pain swelled, starting deep within him and quickly moving outward. It was over before it really begun and then there was nothing but peace, quiet, love. And Buffy. He fell asleep then, too tired, suddenly more tired than he could ever remember feeling, and strangely balanced.                       

Together, they slept in each other’s arms. Nothing, they each vowed, nothing could tear them apart now. They wouldn’t let it. Never again.
~~~~~~~~~~
Tara breathed deeply through her nose, concentrating on the wild magicks that coursed through Willow. 

She was powerful, this human, there was no mistaking that. But undisciplined, so undisciplined. Actually, Tara worried for Willow. If she hadn’t come along and Willow continued to practice, there was no telling what could’ve happened to the young woman. It was all too easy to fall into the addiction the conjuring of powerful magicks could cause. Luckily, Willow hadn’t had cause to cast anything more powerful than simple smoke and mirror spells. 

Without warning, a powerful jolt raced through Tara and she broke the connection with Willow, collapsing backwards onto the floor where they’d been working. 

What was that, her brain tried to process. What happened? Had Willow done that? Where had that, that…whatever it was come from? Desperately Tara tried to order her thoughts into something resembling cohesive thought. What was that? 

“Tara?” Willow called, and to the elf it seemed as if her voice was coming from very far away. “Tara, are you okay?” 

Opening eyes she wasn’t aware actually closed, Tara looked at the young woman. She’d been right, Tara thought with sudden insight. She’d been right when she said her vision involved someone of great power and that it directly affected her people. Only she hadn’t known how, and her guesses were not even close. 

“May I have something to drink, Willow?” Tara asked as she slowly sat up, with Willow’s help. Willow nodded as she took several more pillows from the bed and couch, and plumped them behind Tara, against the wall. The beautiful elf looked like she was still woozy and could faint again at any moment. 

“Sure, I’ll be right back.” Willow smiled and left to find her new friend something to drink. Had the elf meant something like water, or something stronger? Well, considering Willow didn’t really drink, she was going to just get Tara something non-alcoholic. Besides, she didn’t think Wes or Doyle would appreciate her raiding their supply. 

Tara stared at the door Willow exited, wondering at the sensation she’d felt, wondering if she’d have felt it had she not been connected with Willow. Putting that aside for now, Tara concentrated solely on Willow. It wasn’t Willow, per se, that was so important. Oh, the witch had power in her that would sustain her life for a good number of years longer than the average human, but she was still mortal. However, her children wouldn’t be. 

They’d be immortal half-human and half-elf. Like Buffy. 

In fact, and it was a faint link, one Tara was nowhere sure was actually true, the elfin princess had a suspicion that Willow was descendant from the same magick-clan as Buffy’s mother was. And that Willow’s children would be almost as powerful as Buffy. Because Willow was destined to have several children…with Oz. 

Which was funny, and Tara couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up. She really should’ve seen that coming. When her vision indicated Oz was involved somehow, and when Tara met Willow and realized the redhead was the powerful mage from her vision, she really should’ve put it all together. Honestly, she was losing her touch. 

But the best part, if Tara read the power from that bizarre jolt correctly, was that Willow also had something to do with Ariana and Andre. Some sort of Protector? Of that she wasn’t sure, but Tara suspected they didn’t have long to wait to find out. Then again, the jolt itself had something to with none of them. It was an amorphous energy wave that expanded outwards only to snap back again. 

Very odd, quite unlike anything Tara ever felt before.
~~~~~~~~~~
Willow walked across the expanse of the lobby, lost in thought. She was worried for Tara, but wasn’t sure what was wrong, so really didn’t know whom to tell. Angelus? He was with his wife and daughter. Buffy’s dad? Willow shuddered. He made her nervous, really nervous. Tara’s stoic guard? No, he looked mean and, well, might blame her for whatever happened to his charge. 

Oz, she thought and was unaware of the smile that blossomed on her face. Maybe she should tell Oz. And if in telling, it happened to let her speak with the handsome elf again, then all the better, right? She was passing Wes’ office on her way to the back kitchen when she heard Xander’s voice. 

The door wasn’t completely closed, but Willow thought nothing of that. Wes often conferred with any one of their group, and it was always behind closed doors, like he had something to hide. 

“…What’s the Council going to do to Buffy and the daughter?” 

Willow stopped just out of range of the window and listened. Xander never cared who heard him, true; he wasn’t exactly shy about letting his feelings known. It wasn’t that, however, that caught Willow’s attention. It was his words about the Watcher’s Council, that imposing entity that scared her silly, and Buffy and Ariana in the same sentence.

That just couldn’t be good and Willow’s stomach twisted. 

“Ariana is a hybrid of three separate species,” Wes said in his oh-so British voice, “And Buffy is reputed to be the strongest known magick user ever, even if facts on her are sketchy at best.” 

“All we have to do,” Riley added, “Is kill Angelus and this rebel vamp will help us secure the two women.” 

“We trust him,” Xander scoffed. “A vamp, we trust him?”

“Of course not,” Wes admonished. “But as of now, it’s the best chance we have. I’ve called the Council and they’re sending out special ops field agents to assess the situation and help where needed.” 

Willow felt her stomach clench even more. Oh, God, did Faith know? Did the slayer know her boyfriend and watcher were trying to…to do what? Willow wasn’t sure, she hadn’t heard enough of the plot, plan, whatever, to say for certain. 

She did know one thing for certain. She couldn’t let the Council have Buffy and Ariana. There was no telling what they’d do to them. She was there for Faith’s Centurion test, or whatever it was called. No, no, centurions were those warriors in Rome, weren’t they? Anyway, it didn’t matter. That test where Wes and the Council, the same people who she’d sworn allegiance to and who vowed to protect her as she fought their battle, drugged her as some kind of test. A test she passed, but that wasn’t the point. 

The point was that it should never have happened in the first place. It was barbaric, inhumane. 

And if the Council really was a sophisticated as they claimed, really as compassionate and civilized as the literature spouted, then would they really have done that? Willow never thought so, but was terrified of them so said nothing except to Faith and Cordelia. Who, of course, agreed with her; it was the only time Willow saw Faith break down and cry. 

Willow slowly and quietly backed away, though she was positive her heart was going to attract the three men’s attention any second. Screw slow, she thought and whirled, racing back the way she came and up the stairs. She had to tell someone. And now. 

Spotting Oz and Gunn talking by Angelus’ door, she headed in that direction. She couldn’t directly tell Angelus, she doubted Buffy would let her within a twenty-foot radius. It hadn’t escaped Willow’s notice that the elfin queen was more than a tad overprotective when it came to her husband. Well, she couldn’t tell Buffy, either. That woman scared her, the way she looked at Willow, the way she ordered everyone. 

Power streamed off her, both of the magickal variety, and of confidence. The petit elf knew what she wanted, how to get it, and how to give orders to see everything was executed according to plan. Executed, oh, bad choice of words. But speaking of, she needed to tell Faith and Doyle…oh, goddess help her, Wes made it clear on numerous occasions that the Council frowned on demons, even the friendly variety. It was a strong reason the Watcher never told them of the slayer’s association with the half-demon seer. 

“Oz,” Willow gasped, out of breath from the short run and the constant, scared pounding of her heart that echoed in her ears. 

The elf looked at Willow and raised an eyebrow as he took in her appearance. It was slightly disheveled, her eyes were wide and scared, her heart beating entirely too quickly for normal. What happened in the short time since he’d last seen her? 

“I just overheard, and they’re coming! They’re mean and nasty and I wouldn’t put it past them to take all of us anyway, just because they never approved of the help we give Faith. That whole ‘she alone’ crap and all…” 

“Who is, Willow,” Oz asked gently, not wanting to frighten her any more than she obviously already was if her babbling was any indication. “Who’s coming?” 

“The Council,” she said in a frightened voice. “Wes contacted them. He, Riley, and Xander; they’re going to kill Angelus and hand Buffy and Ariana over to the Council. Some vamp, the leader of this rebellion you told me about, I think. I’m not really sure, I didn’t hear everything and I wanted to tell you before anything happened. He’s going to do something, help with something. But Wes is planning on betraying him, too.” 

Without a word, Gunn knocked on the door, already knowing that this wasn’t going to go over all that well with the couple within. As he impatiently waited either Angelus or Buffy to answer, and wondering if he should just barge in, Oz shifted beside him. 

“Are William and Drusilla back?” 

Gunn nodded, “They’re speaking with King Rupert, I believe.” 

“I’m going to fill them in,” Oz said and began walking in that direction. “Bring the king and queen there when you’ve filled them in.” 

“Agreed,” Gunn said as he continued to wait with Willow fidgeting behind him. Oh, he so didn’t want to know what he was interrupting. Abruptly motioning down the hallway to one of the vampire guards there, he ordered, “Find Darla. Have her stay with Princess Ariana and Prince Andre. I don’t want her to have the princess out of her sight until we return to the Lands, understand?”
The guard nodded and went to inform Darla, who was currently sleeping in one of the spare rooms, of her orders. 

Just as Darla was striding down the hallway towards Ariana and Andre’s room, Angelus opened the door. He looked different, Gunn thought, other than the sleep-rumpled look, and the obvious love marks. He looked different but the First couldn’t place why or how as the Ancient stood straight in the doorway, an impatient look on his face as he demanded the reason for this intrusion. Nodding once to his Ancient he quickly informed Angelus of the new situation. 

“We’ve been betrayed.”

Next Part        Previous Part