“What’s that?” The Wolf asked when the rumbling started.  

Their walls trembled, and the ground rolled and bucked, feeling as if some sort of sleeping monster was just awakened, and the artificial lights they’d taken great pains to procure over the years all burst simultaneously. Magick hung heavy and thick in the air so that it seemed the very act of breathing was oppressive.  

“A portal?” The Ram wondered, looking out one of their many windows to the scene below. The only one of any importance. It wasn’t unheard of that a portal opened in their Room, but…it’d been a while. 

“In the White Room?” The Hart demanded, joining his colleague at the windows. “Who is it?” 

“And what,” the Wolf questioned, “Do they want? Could it be Angelus?” Her voice held a hint of a seductive purr at the thought. 

“How would he know where to find us?” The Ram shook his head. “No, it has to be someone or something else. Maybe just a breakdown between dimensions; it’s not unprecedented.” 

“True,” the Hart nodded. “And, too, Angelus killed all our messengers before they could tell him our demands. How would he know what we want or where we are?” 

Just then, a bubble burst forth, opening and sealing the portal in a clap of light and sound. Sure enough, Angelus stood there, surrounded by half of his family. They looked determined, weapons to the ready, faces masks of anger and resolve.  

“They think they’ll actually be able to defeat us?” The Hart laughed. 

“I think,” the Ram said, “That they only want Buffy.” 

“Give the bitch to them,” the Wolf snorted. “But I want that Key.”
~~~~~~~~~~
Looking from Buffy’s form – curled within herself, shaking with constant tremors, bruised, bloody, and…looking absolutely beautiful to him – Angelus eyed the windows he knew the Senior Partners stood behind. 

“Things aren’t looking good in Mudville boys and girls,” he told them with a smile.  

Dismissing the three who watched from their safe little window, Angelus strode purposely towards his lover. Her pain called out to him, a thousand times stronger now than it had been when entire dimensions separated them. Buffy lay in the center of the room, wrapped in a heavy blanket that barely covered her nudity. 

Why the hell was she naked? 

Rage flashed through him at the thought, but was quickly forgotten as he scented her blood. It ran down her arms from scratches too numerous to count; self-inflicted scratches. She’d done that to herself; because she couldn’t take the shakes and need, because she hadn’t had his blood. Because he hadn’t wanted to go to Ireland, because he insisted on putting off his past a little bit longer. Because he’d left her. 

For days only, but Angelus had done something he promised never, ever to do.  

He left her. 

“Baby?” His voice was soft as he crouched before her. Buffy looked up at him at the sound, eyes wide and unseeing. He reached out a hand, and she flinched away from his touch. Indescribable hurt showed on his face for a moment, before Angelus banked that emotion. He deserved that for doing this to her. 

“I’ll make it up to you, baby,” he whispered. 

“Go away.” Her voice was scratchy and determined. “I’m not telling you about your little Key.” 

Key? What was she talking about? She knew what the Key was, more importantly; she knew Angelus did as well…unless she didn’t know it was him. Her next words confirmed that, and twisted his heart at the same time. 

“And you can stop with the Angelus-disguise,” she mumbled, even as she tried to move closer to him. It felt like her lover, smelled like him, and God, she wanted it to be him so very badly. “He’s so going to kill you when he gets here.” 

“I am here, Buffy,” Angelus whispered, reaching out again to touch her. God, he missed her, starved for her touch, her taste, her laugh. He’d been going insane without her, and now that she was literally within touching distance, he was afraid. Afraid to touch her lest this be some kind of trick, and she disappeared like a puff of smoke. 

“I’m here, Buffy,” Angelus repeated, smoothing the hair off her face, and it felt so good to touch her, to feel her skin under his fingertips, the coolness and the power. But she was pale, she was so very pale. And gaunt, her eyes were sunken, and her skin felt scaly and calmly at the same time. But she was real, and she was before him; nothing else mattered. 

“Angelus?” The word was a whispered prayer, and Buffy looked up at him with eyes full of hope and love. “I thought it was…but…and it feels like you, but…” 

“It’s me, baby,” he said, setting his sword on the floor next to her. Gently, he picked her up, combing her hair away, and pressing a soft kiss to her swollen and cracked lips. “God, baby, I’ve missed you.” 

Spike, Connor, and Paul kept their distance, but formed a loose circle around the reunited couple. The vaulted Senior Partners hadn’t yet made their appearance, but the vampires knew they had noticed their entrance. It was only a matter of time before the real fight began. 

“Knew you’d come,” Buffy whispered. “I knew you would; told him that. Love you. Knew you’d come. They want the Key, Angelus. They want her.” 

“They’re not getting her, Buffy,” Angelus assured his mate. “She’s ours. In fact, that’s how we got here.” 

“I love you,” Buffy whispered again, leaning on her lover. She hadn’t the strength to stand, let alone hold herself upright, so collapsed against Angelus’ strong chest and let him hold them both.  

“And I you. Now let’s get out of here.” He grabbed his sword and rose in one fluid motion. It was then that two things happened simultaneously. The first was that the Senior Partners finally made themselves known. The second was that they enacted a forcefield around the newly reunited couple. 

“She said you’d come,” the woman smiled, looking predatorily at the vampires before her. “I admit; I wasn’t sure what to believe: the vaulted Angelus coming after a woman? Your mate, true, but it was so unlike you, my dear. We’d thought higher of you than that.” 

“You didn’t think at all,” Angelus snarled. “Or you wouldn’t have kidnapped Buffy in the first place.” 

“Pfft,” the woman dismissed. “You have what you want. Now give up the Key, and we’ll let you leave here alive and in one piece.” 

Angelus laughed. Spike shook his head at the woman’s bravado words, Connor shifted in anticipation, but it was Paul who spoke. “You want the Key? You want the Key…why?” 

“Because we do,” one of the two men said. “And that, vampire, is all you need to know.” 

“No,” Paul continued, thinking aloud. “It’s more than that. You’re trapped here, yes? If you weren’t, then you’d have made your physical presence known much sooner. You’d have done some of the work yourselves; at the very least, someone would have seen you in the last thousand years. So if you can’t leave your plane, then you have minions working under you.” 

Spike snorted as he picked up on what Paul was saying. “Now, if say someone else takes over the world, and doesn’t cut you in on the action, thereby cutting you off form all you’ve worked centuries to accomplish…” 

Paul nodded and finished, “Exactly. They want the Key to travel to other dimensions. Or,” he frowned, pointing his sword at the man closest to him. “They want the Key to make sure we don’t find them.” 

Angelus laughed again at that, and Connor smiled one of his crazy smiles. “You shouldn’t have started this,” Angelus promised. “You should have stayed where you were. We don’t care about you…or didn’t until you stupidly took Buffy away from me. You could have had your little worlds, and we had ours. Now…” 

“Now,” the woman interrupted, “You can’t leave. Now you’re trapped behind our shield. Now you give us the Key. Give us the Key, or we destroy you all. You think we care what happens to the woman? The mate was a means to an end, my darling Angelus. Leave her, and join us.” 

Angelus growled, and she laughed. “If she means that much to you, then take her. Give us the Key, and everyone can go home.” 

“No.” 

The tallest of the two men looked at Angelus in shock. “No?” 

“No,” Angelus repeated. “What part of that simple, one-syllable word did you not understand?” He took a step forward, and the shield shimmered, but held. “We’re not giving you the Key,” another step, determination flowing off him in waves. Buffy hung onto him as if she was seriously thinking of never letting him go, but her eyes were open and lucid. And she smiled at the trio. 

“I warned you,” she rasped out. “But no one ever listens to me. Like I don’t have experience with these kinds of things. Idiots.” 

Angelus took another step forward. “Now. You can either let us leave peacefully,” another step, and he was pushing the boundaries of the shield, and the shield was pushing back. “Or you can die. Either way: we’re leaving, and you’re never getting the Key.” 

The woman laughed. “You think you’re getting out of that forcefield? It’s constructed of the strongest magicks and technology known in any dimension. Neither of you are going anywhere.” 

“Overconfidence,” Spike sighed, turning his back on the Senior Partners. “It’s always their downfall.” He smirked at them. “Can we fight now?” 

“Pfft,” the woman said again, but her eyes were glued to Angelus. 

He was still holding Buffy, cradled protectively in his arms. His right hand held his sword, a long vicious looking thing that promised death to all who crossed its path. But he was encumbered with his mate, holding her tightly to him, unwilling to let her go even to fight his way out.  

They’d been wrong about him, the Wolf realized as the Ram took a step back, Paul countering that move. They’d been wrong about the very nature of Angelus. In that moment, as Angelus held Buffy close against his chest, as his black eyes locked with each of the Senior Partners in turn, as he took that final step forward, she realized that they had been so very wrong about him. 

He was willing to do whatever it took to protect his mate. The stories, the information they had on him was wrong. The old Angelus may have let his family rot at the hands of the Partner’s, but this new one…would not.

He would fight to the death…theirs. He’d do it for any member of his new family, but he would destroy the world because they’d harmed Buffy. He wouldn’t let Buffy go, no matter the hindrance on his own fighting; he might not, the Wolf thought in those final moments, ever let her go again. 

And that, the Hart agreed, was their mistake.  

They shouldn’t have ever kidnapped the woman. Buffy was strong; and while the withdrawal made her physically weak, she was not. She believed Angelus would rescue her, and he had…somehow he had. 

Angelus had breached their security; he had opened a portal no one should have been able to open without the express consent of the Partners. He had rescued his mate, and now it looked like he was about to break through their supposedly unbreakable forcefield. 

“How did you get in here?” The Hart demanded, eyeing the couple in the wavering shield. 

The grin Angelus sent was rapacious, and made even the Partners shiver in fear…it was a feeling they hadn’t felt in a long, long while. If ever. It was one of the last feelings they’d ever experience. “We used the Key, of course. We’ve always had the Key, and always will. She,” he stressed, “Is ours.” 

“She?” The Ram demanded, keeping well out of Paul’s sword’s reach. 

“Of course she,” Paul laughed. “You don’t think we’d use something we didn’t know anything about, did you?” 

Connor laughed. “You really think we care about your pathetic lives? Your stupid little dimension?” 

“Should’ve left well enough alone,” Spike added. “You turned Buffy, and for that we wouldn’t have bothered ya. But now,” he shook his head. “Now you’re all dead.” 

Angelus moved that final step forward. Against all known laws of magick, he moved that final step forward…and though the forcefield. Buffy convulsed in his arms, but she never let go. She was weak, but her will was still strong. Strong enough to resist the Partner’s; strong enough to keep her screams to herself. Strong enough to know that Angelus would never let her go. 

The pain was immense.  

It didn’t stop Angelus from moving forward again. He willed away the nearly overwhelming urge to back out of the shield, to keep Buffy safe in the forcefield, to keep her unharmed. He refused to slip into blissful unconsciousness, and walked through the forcefield.  

No one could have said how Angelus had walked through that shield, it was impossible. Paul, who had spent years studying magicks, was in awe; he was sure Willow would have promised anything in any world to learn how Angelus had done that. He was sure that Willow, the strongest of all of them couldn’t have done that. 

The Wolf, the Ram, and the Hart stilled for a moment before their deaths to watch what could only be considered a minor miracle…if such a thing as miracles still existed in the world.  

No, they couldn’t have said how Angelus walked through the shield containing him and Buffy. But they could have said why. 

“You took her from me,” the obviously insane vampire before the Partners stated. Gone was the tender lover, the mate relieved to see his love before him once more. Instead was the crazed Angelus who couldn’t live without Buffy. The being who tried to destroy a world because he couldn’t have her; the one who remade a world just to please her. 

“You should never have taken her from me.” 

With that, Angelus lunged at the three otherworldly beings, the demons who called themselves the Senior Partners. They stood there, stunned that someone, anyone, let alone a measly vampire could walk through their forcefield. It was to be their last mistake. 

Angelus shouted no words; he issued no roar, demanded no apologies. He simply attacked. But he was weak. The energy from the forcefield was immense, and still vibrated across his skin. He wanted to fight, he wanted to kill those who had touched his lover, wanted to tear them apart and rip them into tiny pieces, and then he wanted to do it again and again until their pain was as great as his. 

The forcefield, made up of energy from several different sources, collapsed when Angelus brought them through. It wasn’t made to withstand such an anomalous… intrusion, so the moment Angelus broke free of the confining field, it dissipated. 

He got one swing off, slicing through the woman’s arm. The rest of the fight was up to his family. But then that was why they were called that. This fight wasn’t only about Buffy and Angelus. It was about all of them. It was about their family. 

“You took her from me,” Connor growled, moving faster than even a vampire could. But then he was so much more than a vampire. He was light and dark, corrupted by his own wishes into more.  

“You took my sire,” he snarled, his short sword gripped in whitening knuckles. “You touched her. You kidnapped her. You took her from ME!” With that the sword dropped to the ground, and Connor leaped towards the woman, fangs bared and claws extended.  

He fought as viciously as he ever had, tearing into the ancient and powerful creature as if she were nothing more than a human woman. Power crackled off her, sending Connor flying across the White Room. Undaunted, he rose and jumped the distance between them.  

“Stupid, stupid child,” the Wolf mocked. “I’m more powerful than you can possibly imagine.” 

“You can talk,” Connor agreed, “But you’re dead anyway.” 

Paul laughed as he swung his sword in a lazy arc, countering the Ram’s weapon. Where said weapon came from, Paul couldn’t have said, but suddenly it was, blocking Paul’s attack. Had to be magickal in origin, but that didn’t stop the effectiveness of the sword.  

He was bleeding from several cuts on his arms, and one particularly nasty gash that ripped through his left side. It didn’t stop him. For the first time since his turning, several hundred years ago, Paul Stewart had a family. He had people he cared for, and who cared for him in return. It may have been unheard of in the vampire world, but that didn’t matter. 

They were a family; they fought, and they loved, and they took over the world together. They made plans, and built magnificent castles, and they kept out of each other’s way. But they fought together. When one was in danger, all of them responded. 

He may not have been as close to Buffy as the others, certainly not as close as he was to Saffir and Willow, but he was going to battle whoever he needed to, to get her back. He wasn’t going to let his family fall apart. 

Except he was weakening. The Senior Partners were powerful, and definitely had the magickal advantage over them. But they had one thing the Partner’s never understood, could never understand. They had an indomitable force of will. 

“Bloody hell!” Spike shouted, falling to one knee.

He was losing and knew it; he was bleeding from several places, including his sword arm. But then he never was as good with a weapon as Buffy and Angelus, preferring his hands instead.  

Angelus still lay on the floor of the White Room, Buffy cradled tightly in his arms. They both looked like hell, but at least Angelus was regaining consciousness. How he managed to walk through that forcefield was something Spike was sure he didn’t ever want to know. But it was something, he gave his grandsire that; it was definitely something. 

“I’ll be right back,” Angelus told Buffy in a soft voice, even though she probably couldn’t hear him. She was still out of it, and he wondered if maybe that was for the best. He didn’t want her aware of any more pain. 

Picking up his sword again, he joined the battle.  

And then the portal reopened, and Dawn stood there. She looked otherworldly; a golden glow shimmered around her, and her eyes were pure, blind white.  

“You cannot win against them, Angelus,” she said, and Angelus swore that her voice echoed around the room in a thousand different voices. “You can defeat them today, but they’ll never be completely conquered.” 

The Partner’s laughed, looking smug at this affirmation of their power.  

“Only the Key can close the portals, only the Key can lock them away.” With those words, Dawn looked at the three beings that shook the precarious balance of her world.  

If it weren’t for them, then she’d still have her Faith. If it weren’t for them, then Lilah wouldn’t have folded into herself. If it weren’t for them, then Buffy wouldn’t have left, Angelus wouldn’t have killed so many – she could hear their screams and desperately wanted it to stop – and Drusilla would still be her mother, and Faith her protector, and Lilah her companion. 

Then again, she and the Book wouldn’t have discovered a need in each other only the other could fill. It wasn’t enough to let them live. 

“I bind the portals to this room, sealing all means to the Wolf, the Ram, and the Hart. I bind the portals to this realm, sealing the three who seek to destroy. You can never leave; you can never access another realm. You can never see how the fruits of your years of labor have turned to nothing more than forgotten dust.” 

Saffir was beside Dawn then, beckoning them through the shrinking portal. “You have to leave,” she shouted. “Now!” 

Angelus returned to Buffy, picking her up once more and racing to the portal Dawn held open for them. Spike, Connor, and Paul were behind him. Turning once he was safe in his world, Angelus watched the Wolf, the Ram, and the Hart. They were trying to follow them. 

It was the last anyone saw of the Senior Partners. With a silent flash of light, the portal closed. Forever. 

“What did you do, Dawn?” Angelus demanded as he dropped his sword and brushed Buffy’s cheek. 

“They were trapped,” she said, looking at him with eyes that were still white with blindness. “They couldn’t leave, but now, no one can enter, either. Eventually they’ll either die on their own, or kill each other. But they no longer have a hold on any dimension.” 

He smiled, walking out of the room. “Good job.” 

Willow looked up at her lover, though her eyes strayed to the door Angelus had just taken Buffy out of. “Paul?” 

“I’m fine,” he said, but sat heavily in a chair, bleeding all over the heavy brocade. “Really.” 

Saffir snorted, and rang for their minions. “You’re all a pathetic lot,” she said, looking over her sire’s wounds critically. “And you’re bleeding all over my furniture.” 

Anya appeared then, her teleportation entrance sounding loudly in the silent room. “Did it work?”  

“Yeah,” Connor nodded, but his eyes were closed, and his skin still felt like he stuck his finger in an electrical outlet, tingly all over.  

She snorted. “You look it.” 

“My Spike,” Dru cooed, helping her lover to stand, and leading him out of the room to their own apartments. 

“Ow, bloody hell, Dru,” his voice drifted down the hall to them.
~~~~~~~~~~
Angelus tenderly placed Buffy on their bed. 

He tossed the blanket covering her onto the floor, vowing to burn it later. Fetching a basin of warm water and a soft washcloth, he began to clean her. Blood caked to her skin, but he was gentle, almost reverent, as he cleaned her wounds. Buffy didn’t stir once while he washed her, and Angelus grew more worried as time went on.  

“Baby,” he whispered, “Please wake up. I’ve just found you, I can’t lose you again.” No, he really couldn’t, and he knew that. If Buffy died now, Angelus knew he’d follow her when the sun next rose.  

“Please come back to me, Buffy.” Nothing. Lying his head on her bare belly, Angelus closed his eyes and listened to the sluggish workings of her body. The way her blood moved through her veins, slowly, more so than it should have, the way her skin felt, against his cheek. 

“Angelus?” Her voice was faint, but he heard it. Lifting his head, and looking at her face, he felt something loosen within him. Relief. Kissing her, Angelus took her hand and pressed it to his cheek. 

“Yeah, baby,” he said, “It’s me. Open your eyes.” 

Slowly, she did, and Angelus swore he’d never seen a more beautiful sight in his life. “I love you,” he vowed against her lips. “I love you.” 

“And I you.” 

”You need to feed,” Angelus nodded, suddenly all action, and shifted Buffy’s now clean body up, holding her tightly against him. He moved her legs, too thin now, to straddle his waist, his large hand, so cool against her burning skin, cradled her neck, and pressed her downwards. “Drink, Buffy,” he said. “Come on, baby.” 

She needed no further encouragement. Her face shifted, fangs elongating, nails digging into his shoulders. With a muffled moan, she pierced his skin, directly over the mate’s mark, and greedily drank his blood, freely offered and accepted. 

His hips jerked against hers, but Angelus did not give into the almost overwhelming need to bury himself in her wetness. She was too weak for that, and he wouldn’t do that to her. He needed her, all too true, but wouldn’t take comfort in her until she could accept him. Now wasn’t the time. 

“Ah, Buffy,” he groaned, hands tightening on her hips. She eventually pulled back, lazily licking the marks until they closed. “We’ll hunt later,” Angelus promised, laying her back on the bed and following her down.

“I missed you,” she whispered, turning into the comforting embrace of his arms. “Oh, I’ve missed you, my love. Don’t leave me again. Please don’t leave me again.” 

“Never, my heart. I’ll never leave you again.”
~~~~~~~~~~
Wes looked up when the door opened, somehow not at all surprised to see Buffy standing there.  

She didn’t look good, her face was sallow, not the soft paleness he’d come to expect from vampires who actually took care of themselves. It was obvious she hadn’t fed in a while, but considering Wesley was positive that she was missing and presumed dead, probably an improvement. 

“I’m actually sorry for this, Wes,” Buffy sighed as Angelus helped her into the room. “We would have left you alone, but…” she shrugged. “But things have a way of happening, don’t they. I have to say, you were a piss poor watcher, but you did a pretty damn good job when it came right down to it.” 

She stopped in front of him, holding tightly to her lover. “Angelus tells me that you had this whole camp thing going on. Impressive.” She leaned closer. “But not impressive enough.” 

Face shifting, Buffy sank her fangs into Wes’ neck, drinking his human blood down as quickly as she could. It’d been three days since Angelus had rescued her from the White Room, and this was the first time Buffy was able to leave the bed. He’d brought humans to her, and she’d dutifully drank them down, mixing their healing blood with Angelus’. Always Angelus’.  

She hadn’t been able to resist tasting Wesley, however. 

Dropping him against the wall, his chains the only thing holding him upright, Buffy stepped back into Angelus’ arms. “Do you have the new slayer yet?” 

“No, baby,” he whispered against her neck. “I thought we could hunt her together.”
~~~~~~~~~~
“Willow,” Paul called from their rooms back atop the Hellmouth. In the days since rescuing Buffy, they had returned to California to gather the last of the ingredients necessary to open their portals.  

“What are you doing with him?” 

Oz was chained by the neck as Willow worked silently with her books and journals. He was permanently in wolf form now; Willow had managed to break the spell holding the beast at bay. Oz hadn’t been happy – he’d spent years perfecting that – but in the end he hadn’t a say in it. and really, it was probably better this way. 

He wasn’t aware of the humiliation he suffered, or not completely. The human Oz didn’t realize what his former lover did to him, but the wolf did. And it howled, and it raged, and ultimately…it did no good.

“Nothing,” Willow swore, flipping through another book. “I’m ready here, shall we head back?” 

Paul gave one more doubtful look at Wolf-Oz before nodding. What did he care what happened to his lover’s ex?
~~~~~~~~~~
Faith grinned at Gunn, fangs gleaming in the artificial light of her room. She wasn’t crazy, she knew she wasn’t. And yet they acted as if she were. This was her test, and some part of Faith-Slayer knew that. It’d been an hour since Gunn had been tossed into her room, and Faith had yet to do more than snarl at him.  

It was getting boring. 

“I’m hungry,” she admitted, stalking towards him. “And bored.” 

With that, she leapt, and Gunn just didn’t care what happened to him. He was already dead.
~~~~~~~~~~
Fred screamed as another labor pain ripped through her.  

She didn't want to bring this child into the world, no matter her thoughts on the matter mere weeks ago. She didn’t want Connor to have her baby, didn’t want whatever was in store for her child; no one should have to go through that, she swore.  

Another pain bowed her body in half, and Connor was right there, wiping her brow as if he cared. “Shh,” he murmured. “That’s it. Take it easy, it’ll all be over soon.” 

Yes, Fred thought as the midwife settled between her legs. Yes it would be. She was going to die, and her poor babe was going to be brought into a world of monsters. And raised by one. 

Fred never even found out if it was a boy or girl, Connor had the midwife take the baby away before she could catch her breath to ask. And then he was looming before her, fangs sinking into her neck, draining the already exhausted woman dry. 

The girl, Neeya, never knew who her real human parents were. All she knew was her father, Connor.
~~~~~~~~~~
Saffir looked at her lover and shook her head before returning to her book. “You’re taking too long,” she admonished. “Finish him already and come to bed.” 

Giles looked at Ethan, and smiled. Ethan couldn’t see it, his eyes were swollen, his nose broken; his body was severely dehydrated, and had lost a lot of blood. The end couldn’t come soon enough for Ethan Rayne, but he had a bad feeling this was only the beginning. He was wrong. With a quick snap of the neck, Ethan was dead. 

“It’s about time,” Saffir murmured as her lover finally joined her in their bed.” 

“I was having fun,” Giles admitted, “But there’s always more where he came from.”
~~~~~~~~~~
Dru looked up at the night sky and laughed. Twirling around, she landed in Spike’s arms. 

“What’s got you in such a good mood, ducks?” 

“The stars are all aligning, my Spike,” she whispered. “The Key, my sweet little Dawn, is ready to use her full power.” 

“We can finally travel to other dimensions?” Dru nodded and Spike had to laugh. “Cool. Let’s get started then, eh?”
~~~~~~~~~~
Connor stepped back through the portal and looked at his family.  

“Well?” Giles demanded. 

“It’s fine, I guess. I didn't explore too much. Went there, looked around a bit, used Willow’s little gadget thingy to get back, and here I am.” 

“Where did you arrive, what was it like, who was there, where was there…” 

The questions were endless, but Buffy and Angelus heard none of them. They didn’t care. Taking the return device – Willow had a fancy name for it, but it amounted to the same ting – Angelus slipped his fingers around Buffy’s, and kissed the back of her hand.  

“Ready, my love?” 

She nodded, and they step through the portal, hand in hand, truly unconcerned with where they were going. So long as they were together, nothing else mattered.

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