Aurelius had one rebellion in recent memory and it was insignificant enough – to some at least – that it was rarely talked about now. 

Gunn and Oz did not feel that way, as they’d been through that rebellion, watched as Buffy was used as bait to lure Angelus to them, and how he’d repaid those rebels for their troubles. Barnabas, the councilman who’d orchestrated the entire thing, was tortured, tormented, and taunted until Angelus cut his body into four pieces, leaving the head attached just enough to the torso to ensure Barnabas lived for another two weeks. 

It was only because someone got tired of his whines and pleas, from his position on the much traveled East Road, that he met his final death. 

That was much different from what was happening now. Now, Aurelius lived in peace and prosperity, the richest kingdom in the Continuum. Buffy, much like her husband, did not countenance disobedience. The other kingdoms were not nearly so lucky, though they shared her views on defiance. 

“Things are worsening, milady,” General Change, the representative from the Continuum told Buffy and her council. “It is best you leave quickly for the Continuum Meeting Hall before things spiral out of control.” 

Buffy nodded, but asked anyway. “What of the other kingdoms? Have they routed out these rebels?”

“Steps,” Chang sighed, “Have been made but no real progress. As Ancient of Aurelius, your vote is needed.” 

Nodding again, Buffy agreed. “I’ll leave in three days time.” 

Chang bowed his way out and Buffy turned to her own council the instant the doors closed behind the representative. “Has there been word?” 

Theophilus, as Head of the Council of Ministers, shook his head as Elata, the Junior Intelligence Minister to Gualcherius handed him a sheaf of papers. Gualcherius was currently doing as Buffy bade him by seeking out, though it wasn’t technically his duty, allies in both the Hunter Lands and The Land of Dragon and Beasts. Elata, while considerably younger than her master, managed an admirable job and had a system of informants Buffy marveled at. Where the dark-haired vampiress found her information Buffy couldn’t say, nor did she care so long as Elata was loyal and her information accurate. 

“Milady,” Theophilus bowed, “Rumors have reached us that scattered rebels threaten the safety of the Continuum and our own kingdom as well, but nothing substantial. Their workings seem to be small thus far, but they’re creating enough of a nuisance that they are noticeable.”

Narrowing her eyes, Buffy wondered what they were after. Change? Change was slow going in the vampire world, much as it was in all the Land of Light. Did they really think that terrorizing the populace and murdering a few hapless wanders would ensure their change? That made them no better than the rest of the Land, where the Ancient was law and not much changed that. 

So what could they possibly want changed? 

Buffy listened to a few more reports from Elata, the rest of the ministers quickly running through their weekly reports as well, before she dismissed the council. Moving quickly to her rooms, and calling for her maid, Celica, to begin her packing, she continued to ponder this latest twist in her reign. 

The three other kingdoms suffered near constant uprisings, with small skirmishes spilling over onto their neighbors. Yet Aurelius experience none of this, there were no rumors of discontent, the Seers offered no problems, her kingdom was as prosperous as ever and just as stable. So why was there restlessness there, but not here? 

“Ariana?” Buffy called her daughter from the rooms adjoining hers. Just because her child was an adult did not mean the elfin queen wanted her any farther away than necessary. Buffy knew Andre often spent the night in her daughter’s room, and was quite all right with that. But with safety such an incredibly important issue, Buffy wanted no chances taken with the life of her only child. 

“Yes, mama?” The child in question, looking so like her father with her long dark hair, piercing golden eyes, and so much taller than her mother, appeared almost instantly. She knew what was happening, her mother never hid her responsibilities from her, insisting that it was Ariana’s right and responsibility to know her kingdom and see to her people. 

“I leave for the Continuum in three days’ time. You’re in charge. Shall I leave Gunn or Oz here?” Buffy asked as she nodded to Celica to begin packing. 

“You’re going to the Continuum again?” Was it so unreasonable, Ariana wondered, for a daughter to think her mother should stay in her own kingdom with her own child? Seeing the look in Buffy’s eye, the one that said she wasn’t sure if Ariana’s comment was a complaint or something else, Ariana quickly smirked, never realizing how closely that, too, resembled her father. 

“They cannot get on without you, eh? Need your council on nearly everything, do they?” 

Buffy allowed her own smirk to grace her features but that wary look stayed in her eyes. “You know of the rebels, yes?” Of course, she did, Ariana sat in on most meetings in the council chambers but the girl nodded anyway. “Things are going from bad to worse, and it looks as if the kingdoms may have to pull together for the first time in millennia.” 

Instantly alert, Ariana asked, “What of the other Lands? Grandpapa’s kingdom?” 

“I don’t know, Ariana,” Buffy said with a quick squeeze to her daughter’s hand. “Which is why I’m off to the Continuum, so I can tell them just what to do.”

Ariana laughed with her mother, but the worry wasn’t entirely erased from Buffy’s eyes and Ariana felt the first twinge of something bigger to come.
~~~~~~~~~~
Darla did not accompany Buffy to the Continuum meeting. 

The queen didn’t trust her that much yet, even after so many years. Darla understood that, she knew she’d fucked up, knew that whatever trust she once earned was well and truly gone. As she walked through the castle courtyard on her way to meet with William, she also knew that the people of Aurelius hadn’t forgotten nor forgiven her that trespass, either. 

Not that they knew, exactly, what happened, but it was enough for them that their beloved Buffy didn’t forgive Darla her crimes against Angelus and Buffy. Darla wanted to snarl at them, wanted to shout that their precious Angelus was as much to blame as she was. Wanted to let them know, exactly, just what happened so as to erase some of that contempt she saw hiding in their eyes. It wasn’t her fault Angelus couldn’t or didn’t say no, he had free choice in it; there was no spell cast on him to thwart his will. 

The fact that he’d obviously – Darla hated remembering that day – not been quite himself mattered little to the rebellious part of the vampiress. But it hadn’t been that long for Darla since she’d returned to some normal status to risk blowing that and more. 

The vampiress hadn’t forgotten the dungeons, hadn’t forgotten that shame and anger and self-loathing that itched along her skin in the first true emotion she’d felt in forever. Nor, she admitted ruefully as she waited while William finished speaking with the steward, could she do that to Ariana. William turned slightly, acknowledging her presence – another hard-earned point – and Darla nodded, waiting. 

Ariana Amira Kali, Princess of Aurelius, daughter of Buffy Queen of Aurelius, and Angelus, Ancient and King of Aurelius, was the one thing Darla could truly claim to love. It was a foreign emotion, and one Darla admitted took rather a long while to accept, but there was no escaping it. Whether from that strange bond with Buffy during the latter’s pregnancy, or the even stranger one during Ariana’s birth, Darla somehow became immersed in the half elf, half vampire’s life. The human part of Ariana didn’t count, as far as she, Darla, and most of the kingdom were concerned. 

She cared for the child, wanted her happy, told her stories of how wonderful her daddy was, even if Ariana had never met the famous vampire. Darla also told her stories of her mother, how Buffy met Angelus, embellishing on adventures the couple had until even Darla couldn’t tell what was real and what was part of her story. The look in Ariana’s eyes, both during such stories, and whenever she spotted the fair-haired vampiress, how they lighted up, how they sparkled with laughter and hope, was enough to melt even Darla’s hardened heart. 

It was then Darla began to notice Buffy treated her differently, started to, sometimes begrudgingly, ask her opinion, asked her to watch Ariana, little things. But those things were big enough to prove that Buffy’s opinion of Darla had shifted. That wretched curse was still upon Darla, but the vampiress would never request that her queen remove it. Pride demanded as much, as did the fact that in doing so, Darla would admit her weakness to Buffy. 

So she suffered it, going through her life as a social leper. Every being who found her attractive ran, soon after, in fear and disgust when he gazed upon Darla’s twisted form. Oh, yes, Darla admitted, Buffy could, indeed, place a great curse. Transforming Darla into a figure of horror and disgust whenever someone looked upon her in lust was a definite stroke of genius on the elf’s part, and even if Darla raged over the fact, she couldn’t begrudge Buffy that revenge. 

It was nothing less than what Darla would do, if she were in Buffy’s position. 

Still, Darla thought, it’d be nice if someone could look past all that. She immediately laughed at herself for such a thought. How very…unvampire like of her to think that looks weren’t the only thing that mattered. By the priestess, both Buffy and Ariana were rubbing off on her. What was this world coming to? 

William turned from his conversation with a final nod and fell into step with Darla as the pair walked back to the castle proper. “Have you word from Buffy?” She asked, as they crossed the courtyard; Buffy had been gone for over a month now and things were going downhill in almost all the kingdoms. 

Shaking his head, the vampire refrained from the instinctual need to ignore Darla and reminded himself that she’d earned back some – a tiny portion – of the trust she’d betrayed. “No, but Oz sent word that matters are not going smoothly and war is eminent. He suggests we prepare as best we can before the queen returns.” 

Darla nodded, suspecting as much. “The ambassador from Mohi arrives today. I suspect, from the rumors coming from his kingdom, that he brings a treaty proposal as well. These rebels are far spread, infecting every aspect of the Continuum, before long, if they keep this up, we truly will be a united Continuum contrary to their best efforts.”

William had to nod in agreement. “Yes, but the question is: how did they gain so much power so quickly? No Ancient is tolerant of insurrections, and yet in every kingdom there seems to be some sort of rebellion.” 

A squawk sounded high above their heads and both William and Darla looked skywards. A gryphon circled the courtyard once, twice, before landing on the steps leading into the castle, its huge body standing regally directly in front of the pair. The golden hawk-eyes of the creature followed the other vampires in the courtyard but almost immediately dismissed them and focused on the two before him. 

Sketching a bow, an impressive feat for such a large creature, it opened its beak, dropping a letter to the ground before speaking. Since no one but Buffy and Ariana ever heard their gryphon speak, no one else knew the magnificent creatures were capable of such a task. 

“I bring greetings from the Land of Dragons and Beasts. We wish an audience with Ariana Amira Kali, Princess of Aurelius, daughter of Buffy, Ancient and Queen of Aurelius, and Angelus, Ancient and King of Aurelius.” 

William could only nod, having no idea that gryphons actually spoke and gestured one of the guards to inform Ariana of this new…guest. “Please, Master Gryphon,” How, exactly, did one address a bird/lion/hawk creature? William gestured towards the large doors leading inside the castle’s Great Hall. “I am William, Childe to Angelus, Ancient of Aurelius; I shall show you to the council chambers.” 

Less than five minutes after the gryphon landed, Ariana greeted him in chambers, listening to the squawking voice as Yaro-Morathi, meaning The Wise Son, and Master Ambassador to the Queen Dragon, Ambika-Veda, The Goddess of Destruction and Holder of The Sacred Knowledge of the Lands, offered his proposal. It was her first official act without her mother there to guide her and she was understandably nervous. Ariana often made decisions, she was far from an indecisive leader, but this was the first of such significance and Buffy wasn’t even in the kingdom. How typical was that? 

“In these trying times, and with so many using the troubles as a means to their own end, it is our desire to propose this alliance, between noble Aurelius and the noble Land of Dragons and Beasts, tying our kingdoms, our heritages, our people together in unity with blood and trust.” 

Ariana inclined her head slightly, pausing bare moments to digest all the Master Ambassador had to say. A flick of her eyes, so fast that none noticed, to Theophilus noted his agreement, and Ariana stood, bowing from the waist down to the gryphon before her. 

“As Princess of Aurelius, daughter of Buffy Queen and Ancient of Aurelius, and Angelus, Ancient and King of Aurelius, I accept your agreement, Yaro- Morathi, The Wise Son, Master Ambassador to the Queen Dragon, Ambika-Veda, The Goddess of Destruction and Holder of The Sacred Knowledge of the Lands.” 

The gryphon, while unable to actually smile around the beak, accepted her agreement with a silent cheer. Things were progressing much more smoothly, and much better than any in his land hoped. Ariana was the key to their entire future, but the poor child did not yet know that.
~~~~~~~~~~
How in all the Lands had this happened? 

“Angel, man, where does this go?” Doyle asked as he lifted a box and made to move it, actually move it, from its home on the floor in the center of the lobby from where it’d sat for at least a month. Angelus said nothing and simply stared at the human. 

Doyle, for his part, shrugged and quickly moved upstairs, depositing said box in Angelus’ rooms; it was obvious that the vampire was less than thrilled over this, ah, invasion. But Angelus needed involvement, it just didn’t do to go through life – no matter how long that life was – shunning society, avoiding people, and…brooding. Then again, Doyle only knew a very little bit about Angelus; he had a soul, which was about as far from normal as a vampire got, he wasn’t from around these parts, and by that Doyle meant not from Earth, and he desperately longed to return from wherever it was he came from. 

He’d been King of his land, Doyle learned once, when Angelus let slip something about a pack of vampires being of a lesser clan of the Muskogea Kingdom, and enemies to his Aurelius Kingdom. When Doyle questioned Angelus, the vampire admitted that he’d left his kingdom, his power and his wife, and couldn’t, with his soul, return. 

 “I can’t,” he’d said, “Return to her, to…them, not like this.” Personally, Doyle didn’t see the big deal of a soul; he had one, everyone he knew had one, it was a common fact of life. What was the big deal? Surely, if this wife of his truly loved him, she’d accept him back? 

Doing a little digging on his own, through some of Wesley’s books when the Watcher was nowhere around, Doyle found several long and bloody references to Angelus of Aurelius and decided that it really was better to have the Ancient – whatever that truly was – on his side and not terrorizing the countryside, or Doyle, as Angelus was prone to do. In addition to the few facts on Angelus of Aurelius, that the watcher’s gathered somehow from some unfortunate vampire they tortured, there was mention of his wife. A being named Eliza was also mentioned in conjunction with Angelus and Earth, but Doyle learned nothing more about whatever liaison that might have been. 

In fact, Eliza dropped off the face of the earth and someone named Buffy appeared. The journal suggested that there was a marriage between Angelus and some princess from an adjoining kingdom, but they did not mention her name. Doyle wondered if this paragon of princessness was this Buffy. The entries were disjointed at best, the watcher’s obviously trying to piece together facts from vague rumors heard over the years. Vampires, it seemed, had their own network of gossips, and while the Watcher’s tried to dig into that network and understand the dynamics of vampire thinking, they were less than successful. 

This marriage was something else. It was revered, it seemed, by demons and vampires alike. Then again, the only ‘facts’ the journals contained were unsubstantiated at best; according to the journals, those were simply rumors because beasts such as vampires didn’t do such things as marry. Too civilized for them. But apparently one of the vampires the Watcher’s caught talked – after significant motivation – and that was how the rumor got started; that Angelus married this woman and so many respect her and so on. 

Doyle admitted that Angel wore a ring, and couldn’t figure another reason why the vampire would unless it was a wedding ring. He was a good looking man, ah, vampire, but from what Doyle learned, both about his past and during the years they knew each other now, Angel never saw another woman, never socialized at all, and certainly never bedded anyone. Faithful? Possibly, but again, that went against everything Doyle knew about vampires – Angel not specifically, obviously – and what the Watcher’s studied about them. 

There was a particularly interesting passage in one of the more recent Watcher Journals Wes carted around as if they were the Crown Jewels, that went into some kind of detail about this princess. Apparently, everyone loved her, including those on Earth. Under extreme torture, the vampire who originally told the Watchers of Angelus’ marriage also expounded on the virtues of the wife. Or, well, he expounded on the virtues of the Queen of Aurelius, and since Doyle knew Angelus to be king, he did the simple math and figured the queen was married to the king. Making this quintessence of womanhood (vampirehood?) Angelus’ wife. 

This vampire, poetic even under duress, gave a beautiful description of a woman he’d either had the intimate pleasure of meeting, or loved in a courtly chivalrous way, from afar. It was difficult to tell and there was a splatter of blood in the center of the account. Doyle didn’t want to know how that ended up there. This queen was beautiful, kind, generous, a talented leader with skin like a golden flower and hair as the waterfall in sunrise. Her eyes were pure land, a deep green that spoke of grassy knolls and thick virgin forests.

Everyone wanted this queen, this vision, the journals claimed the vampire said, yet she held herself away, ruling her kingdom and living in her castle. Doyle fancied her as a princess (queen) in an ivory tower awaiting rescue, from the description here. But, as he worked to put all the pieces together, he figured that Angelus married this princess, who became his queen, and was possibly this Buffy. Something happened, most likely the return on his soul, and he left her. 

Now, Doyle didn’t understand the reasoning here, there were several large chunks of the puzzle missing. And he admitted he didn’t have enough facts to form a conclusion. But the way he saw it, either she kicked him out, or he left her. It was a coin toss either way. 

Either way, Angel was miserable and in desperate need of help himself. And it was then, as Doyle reached all these conclusions of a vampire he considered his friends, that Doyle decided never again to press Angelus for information about his past. 

Doyle felt for the guy, he really did. However, the simple fact was that Doyle needed help; Angelus could provide that help, and had for the past two years. Now that Doyle had more help, or specifically, he was helping others help the helpless, it was only fit, the way Doyle saw it, that Angelus should be involved. There was this nagging suspicion that he, Doyle, should mind his own damn business, but the half human was never one for listening to voices in his own head. 

Or, well…the visions didn’t count. 

Angelus looked at the assembled group as they moved right on into his LA home. Well, home wasn’t exactly the right word for it, hotel was much more accurate a term. But he missed the massive amounts of space his castle afforded him and, while not nearly as grand, clean, or, well, occupied, as that structure, this did well enough to fulfill his days with theses…humans. 

Except now, he had company. 

And it was of the permanent variety. 

It was annoying in a blinding rage kind of way. 

He started by helping Doyle, the poor man needed it what with his dismal fighting skills and mind-bending ‘visions.’ Angelus finally discovered why the half human felt the need to atone for some past sin and couldn’t not help. Well, he could have sat along the sidelines, but he felt bad for the guy. Allen Francis Doyle was not a fighter. So Angelus helped, on that first little vision, defeating the Ne’opon Demon before it had a chance to shoot the acid-like spittle onto the brunette in Doyle’s vision, and Doyle himself.

Wouldn’t do for the human to die before making it up to his mother’s people. 

It wasn’t so bad to see Doyle once a week, or so whenever the Bracchan Demon wanted company or had a vision. In fact, Angelus enjoyed Doyle’s companionship on the sporadic basis that it was. Angelus didn’t mind helping Doyle, convincing himself that he wasn’t helping worthless humans who’d cursed him in the first place; he was helping Doyle fulfill his debt to those mysterious Powers. Debts were something Angelus understood, after all, and was something that he knew Doyle needed to accomplish. 

But then Doyle wouldn’t leave him alone. Found the Slayer, which is whom he was originally supposed to find, and her Watcher. There was a small fight with the brass young slayer, which Angelus won, of course, and Doyle convinced both Slayer – Faith of the no last name – and her Watcher, who was the biggest gibbering fool Angelus ever met – Wesley Wyndam-Pryce – that not only was Angelus on their side, but hey, shouldn’t they all work together? 

Angelus was not amused. 

He barely tolerated the Watcher, preferring to leave the room, conspicuously, when he entered, and never went hunting, or patrolling as the Watcher put it, with Faith no matter how much the girl obviously needed his help. He didn’t like or trust Watchers or Slayers, and no matter what changed over the years since repossessing his soul, that would never change. 

It was even worse when Faith’s, whom he actually did find a semi-harmonious working relationship with, over-drugged, I-worked-in-the-military-but-deserted-because-their-ideals-were-wrong, sex toy showed up with his two friends from school. Now there were six of them. 

“Angel!” 

Oh, wait. Seven. How could he have possibly forgotten Doyle’s own girl? It was days like today Angelus regretted helping the half-demon save the girl in Doyle’s first vision. Turning with a glare and a scowl in the direction of the tall brunette, Angelus didn’t bother to ask what she wanted. She’d tell him either way, and all he really wanted was to be left to his own devices and, preferably, his nice dark room with his own thoughts and memories. In fact, that was a mighty fine idea and he headed in the direction of the stairs to do just that. 

Cordelia Chase, I had money and even though Daddy didn’t pay his taxes – if Angelus were running this country, the man would be dead for not paying the proper tribute – and I can still snob with the best of them stood tapping her foot on his marble tiled lobby. She wasn’t bad looking, for a human, but the moment she opened her mouth, things flowed from her that made even the renowned Ancient cringe. Hell, even Angelus had tack. Sometimes, at least when it was absolutely called for. 

“The sink in my room’s overflowing,” she stated in an entirely too superior way for the king and Ancient and he slowly turned back towards her. With all the clamor of voices, the accusations, the screams of pain and cries for help, was one more really that big a deal? Just one, no one would ever miss her, really… 

“Cordelia,” this was from an anxious Doyle who’d returned from his errand to Angelus’ room and saw the way the vampire was about to pounce, literally and with fangs, on his woman. “I don’t think Angel here fixes plumbing. Why don’t you have Riley take a look at it? He’s one of those handy sorts.” 

With a glare, Cordelia turned to find Faith’s sex-toy, Riley Finn. She liked Riley and his pondering ways even less than she did the vampire. Of course, the fact that said vampire could, according to Doyle, rip her apart with a hand and was, also according to Doyle, a vicious and terrible killer from some other realm where he was Lord and Master, went a long way towards her tolerating the hulking man. 

If they can kill you, she’d learned early on, they most definitely had the right of way. 

Doyle went after Cordelia, with the intent of reminding her all he’d told her. He did it with the best of intentions, forgetting that the road to hell was paved with those, trying to make her see that Angelus really wasn’t one for pushing and prodding and definitely not one for manual labor. He loved his spoiled princess, and really didn’t want the vampire he considered his best friend to kill her. 

It made for a conflict of interest. 

Angelus watched the comings and goings for another few minutes, noting the way everyone moved together, laughing, joking, teasing. In a way he was envious of the group of human friends, once upon a time he’d had that as well. But another, larger part of him admitted that he really wanted as little to do with them as he could manage. They were trying on his nerves, understood, truly  understood, so very little of what they faced on a daily basis, and couldn’t understand his reluctance to kill his own kind. 

Just because they were mostly from rival clans, orders, and kingdoms and just because Angelus held a soul that should have spent the rest of eternity in a peaceful after life of great warriors and not plaguing him with visions from his past, didn’t mean that he murdered other vampires. And whenever a pack from Aurelius entered the city, and it was ridiculously easy to identify those, the demonic gossip underground worked faster than anything Angelus ever witnessed, he steered as far away from them as possible. 

Buffy made it clear, in the first and only speech she’d given on the matter, that Angelus was working through harmful magicks and didn’t want to contaminate his kingdom. She’d stressed that just enough for everyone to believe her and never, ever wavered from her stance. Showing up with a bunch of humans intent on staking the vampires of Aurelius was a surefire way to ruin whatever progress she’d made there, and help her locate him, here. 

‘Which wouldn’t be so bad, would it?’ Angelus couldn’t help but ask himself. He was desperately lonely, he missed Buffy every day, wondered what her (his, their) daughter looked like, acted like, wondered so many things about his family. 

He’d missed so much, and for what? An obviously wrong notion that Buffy cheated on him? Well, okay, it was wrong, but the fact remained that she could have told him she was capable of conceiving with him. Would have taken that whole episode right away and none of this would ever have happened. But she’d never said it was a possibility, not in the nearly twelve years they’d been married and there was more than one occasion for it to arise. In more than a decade of marriage, not much went unsaid. 

Angelus couldn’t help himself sometimes; more often than not, he disliked his pathetic nature, the wallowing and self-pitying, but couldn’t change because what was the point? He could never, as melodramatic as that sounded, go home again, and he had to live, as not-really-living as it seemed, here. 

Maybe if he was somehow stronger, if he could accept both parts of himself, but Angelus felt divided, as if the soul and the demon were two bodies, not two separate entities inhabiting the same body. It made everything so very much harder, yet it also acted as a catalyst for certain things. Like saving that woman from certain death a few hundred years ago on the rocky coast of Ireland and making sure her child was born safely. Angelus didn’t care about her, then or now, still wasn’t sure what to make of that whole episode. 

But Angelus couldn’t let a pregnant woman die because, well, Buffy was pregnant, and as dissimilar as the two were, Angelus felt that saving the pregnant human was somehow helping his wife. 

The soul needed to save her because he couldn’t add another voice to the ones already echoing in his head, the demon needed to save her because of his own wife, and thought that saving this woman somehow made up for that. No, Angelus didn’t want to help the helpless, as Cordelia and her newfound friend Willow termed their mission, didn’t want to help those in need because no one helped him at his lowest. Okay, not true, Buffy tried, but in all honesty, Angelus had no idea how to reconcile the two disparage parts of his personality, how was his wife expected to? 

Looking around once more, watching the annoying whelp, Xander joke with Riley, as the pair unloaded boxes and bags and entirely too many things from a car someplace, Angelus felt the overwhelming desire to hide. Not very vampire like, but he thought he’d be excused from that if anyone was ever caught in the situation he was. It was worse than a nightmare. 

Damn it, he didn’t want to help! He wanted to wallow in his own misery and think about his beautiful Buffy and how nothing between them was ever, even on the off chance he ever did allow her to find him, going to be the same. 

Wesley was organizing Cordelia, Willow, and Xander, friends of the slayer who’d helped her fight in her last town, into some kind of cleaning army. Riley went for food, Doyle tried to stay out of everyone’s way, and Faith went to polish her swords. Well, Angelus could admire that about the girl, she did take care of her weapons. 

Wondering how he managed to get caught up in this, and why he let it happen, Angelus went up the stairs and to his room. If anyone came looking for him he intended to ignore them; he had absolutely no desire to socialize with those creatures. 

At the top of the stairs, and ignoring the loud crash he just knew was that Chinese table he loved, Angelus wondered how they were going to fight together. And if those humans could fight at all.

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