The Track where A and B collide… 

Giles dreaded the next few days. He didn’t want to see what happened; he didn’t even want to think about it. 

He knew Joyce had gone to see Elizabeth, he probably would have done the same, but that wasn’t the point. The point was that Elizabeth wasn’t Buffy. Despite that fact, a part of Giles died when his suspicions were confirmed. When Angel confirmed that yes, he’d Turned Elizabeth. Willingly Turned her. 

He was getting too old for this kind of thing. 

Maybe it was time to retire. No, he’d been fired, too late for that. And he could never leave his Slayer. Elizabeth or Buffy. He cared too greatly for the both of them. 

“I’m still getting too old for this,” he grumbled as he opened his door. The scent of old magicks was heavy in the air. Old black magicks. “Willow.” 

The redhead was sitting in the middle of his living room, surrounded by a burnt circle, a second interconnected – and equally burnt– one beside her. Candles lay gutted in their wax, herbs smoldered in their trays. And Willow looked…perplexed. He could feel his hair graying as he took in the state of his house. 

“Where is she?” Willow asked, looking up at Giles. 

Feeling physically ill, the former watcher asked a question he dreaded the answer to. “Who?” 

“Buffy,” Willow said but it didn’t seem to Giles that she was entirely focused on the conversation with him. “I brought her back,” her voice held a strong note of pride here. “I brought her back, Giles, found her and brought her back to where she belongs.” 

“You amateur little girl,” Giles hissed before he could control his temper. He felt his own magicks sparking to life. “What have you done?” 

“I brought her back,” Willow insisted. “It’s what we were going to do anyway, remember? That whole ox thing with Elizabeth?” The redhead spat her name like a curse and Giles flinched. He wouldn’t be surprised, given Willow’s apparent unstable reaction to this whole thing, if she had somehow cursed Elizabeth. 

“You have no idea what you’ve done, Willow,” Giles said and this time his voice held the anger and power of Ripper. He may have sometimes wished to forget his alter ego, but the wilder part of Rupert never went away. “Buffy wasn’t hiding in a cave; she was in a different world. One we know precious little of.” 

“Please,” she scoffed and rose, gingerly stepping out of the circle. “You really believe that drivel Anya spouted about Angelus or whatever? Buffy was nowhere near them, if she was, don’t you think I would have seen them?” 

“What,” Giles asked slowly, fear churning heavy in his gut, “Did you see?” And how, he wondered, but was terrified to ask, did you actually get her back?

“I saw Buffy,” Willow said as she had before, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “She was there, right in front of me, and I brought her back with me.” She left out the part where she didn’t give Buffy long – or any time really – to understand what was happening. It didn’t matter; Buffy belonged with them, not with some other Giles and Cordelia of all people. 

“You stupid, stupid little girl,” Giles spat at her, his voice holding a venom no one had ever heard from the usually calm watcher. Ethan could have told them all to run, but he wasn’t there. “You never think, just act. Well, this act will bring hell upon us all.” 

Whatever, she wanted to say, but didn’t. She had to find Buffy. Except she wasn’t sure where to begin.
~~~~~~~~~~
Buffy looked around, nauseous, achy, and hot in her dress. Damn California summers. 

The screaming had finally stopped, the scents and sounds and pain and nothingness and all of it had finally lifted from her chest where it had pressed down so she couldn’t breathe, or move, or think. 

Angelus was nowhere to be found, and that panicked her. While Buffy sensed him, knew he followed her here, knew he was in Sunnydale, she didn’t know where. The pounding of her Mark, the screaming of her blood, told her as much. It just didn’t show her the direction to travel. What she did see, what she sensed, was ruins. Burnt ruins that looked all too familiar. 

She was in the ruined library of the old Sunnydale High School, standing not three feet from the Hellmouth. 

“How perfect,” she muttered, hiking her skirts up and walking out of the room. “Why does my life always revolve around the damned Hellmouth?” 

Not wanting to see anyone at the moment – anyone other than Angelus – Buffy walked out of the high school and towards the mansion. When in doubt, go to the one place you felt most comfortable in. The only place, other than Angelus’ arms. 

He was here, in Sunnydale, and didn’t know the terrain. All she had to do was stay still and Angelus would find her, Buffy knew that. Then they could figure out a way to get back. She didn’t want to stay in this town – in this world – any more than she had months ago when she gave up looking for a way back.

”Then we’ll figure out a way to deal with Willow,” she told the night sky.
~~~~~~~~~~
Angelus roared. 

Buffy wasn’t there, wasn’t with him. He’d grabbed her, knew he had. Felt her fingers close around his own, desperate and frightened. She hadn’t wanted to return, that he knew. What he didn't know was what had happened to cause her to do so. Angelus caught a glimpse of red hair, a woman. A friend? The one Buffy told him of, the one whom she thought wouldn’t stop until she returned? 

That knowledge did nothing to soothe his temper. 

Buffy was here, wherever here was, and she was alive. He could feel her, like a pulsing beat through his body. Nothing was going to stand in his way of finding her. Certainly not this little building of humans who knew naught about her. But then they weren’t a problem any more, were they. 

Turning from the burning building where bodies would no longer be identifiable and people even now ran screaming in and out of the place, Angelus motioned to his Childer to follow him. His anger was far from abated, and his fear for his Mate was a living thing in his heart. He didn’t know where he’d landed, only that Buffy wasn’t there when he’d regained consciousness. William and Drusilla were, but not his Mate. 

“She’s here,” he told them, a thin thread of control all that was holding him back. “Find her.” 

The couple nodded, in complete agreement, following Angelus as he systematically made his way across what seemed to be a university campus. Still, there was no sigh of Buffy. Angelus was in such a rage, that William feared for his sanity, feared that Buffy’s disappearance was going to more to drive him over the edge than anything in the past hundred years combined. 

Angelus stalked through the streets of the town, following his instincts to his Mate. There weren’t a lot of people out, and that surprised Angelus. Usually the streets were teeming with humans, all so oblivious to their surroundings. Maybe Buffy was right, maybe Sunnydale was different in more ways than one. 

But what really surprised him was the lack of demons, too. Were they just not here? If this was the Hellmouth – and he could feel the power coming out of the town – then where were the hoards Buffy always seemed to speak of? With the Slayer gone, Angelus thought they’d be out in full force. 

That wasn’t the case.

“Split up, I want Buffy found and I want her found now!” Angelus ordered Drusilla and William, and stalked into the night.
~~~~~~~~~~
Elizabeth paused in the center of the cemetery. 

Waited, watched, listened. There it was again. That tugging that said her Angel was there. He wasn’t, so far as Elizabeth knew, Angel was meeting with several emissaries from some demonic sect who wanted to end the fighting between their clan and another. She hadn’t wanted to be involved in that, had stayed long enough for the petitioners to bow to her as their queen, and then had left with Spike and Dru. 

Now she felt something that made her think Angel. Except not. Turning abruptly, Elizabeth headed back to the mansion, determined to figure this out, whatever this was. 

But when she got there, Angel was nowhere to be found. Odd, he had that meeting. Was it over already? She paced through the room, searching for any sign that he was there and she just couldn’t find him. But no, nothing of the sort. So what then? Why were her senses going wild? Why was her Mark throbbing rapidly? Why was the Slayer within her screaming for release? 

“Who the hell are you?” A voice demanded behind Elizabeth and the Slayer turned, already knowing who it was. And already knowing that the confrontation between them wasn’t going to be pretty.
~~~~~~~~~~
Angel stalked through the cemeteries in search of his Mate. She was there, or had been. The strange vibes shooting through him made him uneasy, the demon within roaring in need and anger and something else. Confusion, yes, but something even other than that. Something that Angel didn’t like one damn bit. 

He heard them, scented them in the night air. And understood. 

“You bastard!” Xander shouted as he pulled out a stake and headed for the vampire before him. “You left once, why couldn’t you do it again? All you had to do was stay away, but no couldn’t do that, could you?” 

“I suggest,” the smooth Irish tones were shaded with menace, “That you move, boy, before I make you sorry you got in my way.” 

“Like I couldn’t take you, Dead-boy!” Xander snarled, hatred and grief in his voice. “You were nothing when you were here before, and now you’re even less than that.” 

It really grated Xander that Buffy – and Elizabeth – could choose this monster over him. How? How was that possible? Angel had nothing, nothing on Xander – he wasn’t human, had that pesky curse to deal with, and wasn’t that a bitch Xander relished with glee, and he had spent over a hundred years killing and raping his way across the world. How could either Slayer tolerate, let alone love a vampire? 

“Dead-boy?” Angelus echoed with a snort. Stupid, the boy was stupid, but he was feisty, in a stupidly bold kind of way. Shame he was also going to die. Head cocked to the side, Angelus allowed his eyes to scan the tombstones and mausoleums for that strange pulsing within him. There, in the shadows, stood…himself. What the fuck? 

Ah. So he, the other Angelus, the one Buffy called Angel, was here. Well, wasn’t this going to be interesting. 

“And how,” the boy before him was saying, “Could you do that to Buffy?” 

Angelus’ attention shot back to the boy, wondering just what the hell was going on. If the boy before him thought Angelus was Angel, then what had Angel done to Buffy? A growl escaped him, low, threatening, directed not at the boy but at the vampire in the shadows. 

An echoing one drifted to Angelus, protective, threatening in his own right. Just what in all the universes was going on? 

“How could you do this to the girl you claimed to love? How could you Turn Eliz-” 

“I think, Xander,” a smooth voice said behind him, devoid of that off Irish accent Xander hadn’t noticed until it was absent. “That you should have listened and stayed inside. I did warn you, for both their sakes, but you’re a stubborn fool with naught but a single thought in your head.” 

Slowly, feeling the blood drain from his face, feeling his heart rate kick up a notch, feeling his palms go clammy, and the stake he’d grasped in his hand slip to the ground, Xander stiffened. With great care, Xander turned around. Already dreading what he was sure to find behind him. Eyes locked with another pair of brown ones, so like the ones he’d just stared into. But not. 

There was a spark of something else there, something older than the vampire Xander had just berated, something that testified to years of guilt and pain and wow, why was he just noticing this now? 

In the end it didn’t matter, because in the end, neither vampire cared what he thought. Xander Harris, the boy with the lifelong crush on the Slayer who had saved him, knew his death when he saw it. He’d been wrong last year; the Mayor wasn’t going to get him. His time hadn’t been up then. 

But now it was. 

“Oh, shit,” Xander whispered as the other Angel – Angelus? – walked around to where Angel, the original apparently and his head ached from trying to figure out so Star Trek a scenario. “Oh, this is just bad.” 

“And for once in your life, Xander,” Angel said and his grin – all teeth, mean, ominous – was identical to his twin’s. “You are absolutely right.” 

In tandem, both vampires’ struck. Angel and Angelus – in a strangely paradoxical and yet equal move – leapt at Xander, faces shifting, fangs gleaming in the moonlight. Leapt at him and tore into his throat on opposite sides, draining, drinking, hurting. This was pain, it was horror and torture and if they could stand to keep him alive for longer than it took to kill him here, then maybe they’d do it all over again. 

But Angel hated Xander, had from the first. And Angelus, well, he was a possessive vampire. He didn’t like anything Xander had said about Buffy. 

Dropping Xander’s dead body to the ground without so much as another look, Angel and Angelus stared at each other. Golden locking with golden, mistrust, wariness, maybe a hint of envy, and finally…understanding. 

“I think I know where she is,” Angel said finally, trying to put all the pieces of this puzzle together. Buffy was back. And she was back with his former self. The man he was before the soul, before a hundred years of conscience, of caring. Before he lost that soul, before he went crazy from denying his feelings for Buffy. When he’d been bored and sane, and had only wanted to find what it’d taken another hundred years to find. Buffy. 

Without another word, Angel turned in the direction of the mansion and led Angelus to his Slayer. And went to find his own.
~~~~~~~~~~
“Are you sure,” William asked in cultured tones, “That this is the right direction, pet?” 

Drusilla nodded, a dreamy smile on her face. “Oh, yes, my Black Queen is here, she’s here and not alone. The other one is here as well. And she spits and screams and wants just as mummy does.” 

William nodded and allowed Drusilla to lead their way. He had no idea where they were, didn’t know the town, wasn’t sure of the time, and hated that he also didn’t know where Buffy was. She was what held them together. Without her, Angelus was likely to go mad and that wasn’t something William wanted to see. 

“Then let’s move, pet, the sooner we find her, the sooner we can find a way out of this place.”

”Yes,” Drusilla’s voice said, but not from next to him where his princess was walking. “You must find her.” 

William and Drusilla turned to face…themselves. Only not. Which caused William to wonder if vampires got headaches. Standing before them was another William and Drusilla, dressed differently, and looking extremely different in William’s case. 

“You’re them, are you not?” The Dru said as she walked to Drusilla’s side. “Is it true,” she whispered, eyes glinting with wisdom only her counterpart had. “Is she Queen?” 

“Yes,” Drusilla agreed, “She’s the Black Queen. And you,” she wondered, head to the side as she stared into her reflection. One she hadn’t seen in so very long. Her eyes really were as beautiful as William told her. “You knew that, because yours is as well.” 

“Death and lust,” Dru nodded as she drifted back to Spike. “It screams in the stars, painting them black with blood.” 

“Right then,” Spike said as he lighted a cigarette. He didn’t understand what was happening, but had a fair idea that it involved their past selves – witness the evidence before him – and that neither Angel nor Angelus were going to let this pass. 

“Let’s head back, shall we? Don’t want to miss all the drama.”
~~~~~~~~~~
Buffy stared at her…whatever she was, her not-twin in anger. And hurt. And confusion. This was something she hadn’t thought of. Well, not really. She hadn’t really thought that there’d be another her here, and that that was what she saw – and she was seeing another her. 

“So let me get this straight,” she said, folding her arms over her chest, eyes bright green as she took in her surroundings. Betrayal, Angel had betrayed her. He’d gone off with another when he’d left her for some lame reasons he’d insisted were all too real and true. “We switched places like something out of some movie, and you’ve been here the entire time I’ve been gone.” 

“Yes,” Elizabeth said calmly – and for the third time. But then she’d had longer to get used to this than Buffy had. She also didn’t have all the anger and hurt Buffy had. Jealously yes, oh she had a lot of that. But not the heartache behind it. “For some reason no one’s been able to figure out, when you went into the past and met Angelus, I was brought here.” 

“Where you met Angel.” And that was the hardest part. That he’d fall for another her. Buffy didn’t pretend to understand the logic – or illogic – or it; all she knew was that she didn’t like it. Okay, yes, she’d gone back and fallen in love with Angelus, but that was different. Angel had left her damn it! He’d left her to move on from their love. Bastard. 

“No,” Elizabeth was saying now as if she could read her mind. And she probably could, who better than someone who was you, albeit with different life experiences? Which, of course, didn’t make them you, it made them a twin of sorts. Buffy was getting a headache. Could vampires get headaches? 

“It is the same,” Elizabeth pointed out. “You met a different Angel and fell in love with him, right? You wanted to stay there, I know you did. I saw what you saw for only a moment. But I saw it. You were happy there, wanted to stay there. With Angelus. Why is it different than what Angel did?” 

Buffy was about to answer that, about to spew all the reasons it was different – Angel abandoning her, Angel telling her to move on, Angel telling her he didn’t want his life to be with her – when they felt it. That tug, the indescribable pull that said Here. Mine. Mate. 

They both looked towards the door at the same time and, though neither would admit it, acknowledged the bond they each shared with their respective Mates. Angel led Angelus through the door, the former wearing leather and silk, his hair short and styled. The latter wearing the expensively cut clothes he’d been in when Willow pulled Buffy through time, the white silk shirt no longer pressed, now wrinkled and stained with blood and death. 

Without a word, Buffy flew into Angelus’ arms, allowing his strength to wrap around her, his presence. She knew what happened, didn’t need to ask. When he realized that they weren’t together in this time, in this world, that they’d been pulled back together, but that she wasn’t with him, he’d gone ballistic and tore apart everything in order to find her. She could scent Drusilla and William on him, the death of too many innocents, the fire and destruction he’d caused in his attempt to find her. 

She didn’t care. Even without her soul, she was still the Slayer, but at this moment, with too much weighing on her, with too many things she’d rather not have known battering her from all directions, Buffy didn’t care. Yes, she mourned those who died in his rage, but Buffy knew that without her, many more would have. Angelus cared for one thing in this – or any other – world, and that was her. He’d defy God himself to get to her. 

“What happened?” He demanded, his voice soft, tender, his eyes glinting with anger over being separated and fear for her safety. 

“I was pulled to the Hellmouth,” Buffy told him, leaning up to kiss him. Soft and tasting, needy and knowing. “I came here knowing if I was far enough away from the pull of the Hellmouth, you’d be able to find me.” She wanted to ask how he’d found Angel, but didn’t. She was positive that that story would come soon enough. 

Turning to reluctantly face the other her and her first lover, Buffy wasn’t surprised to see them wrapped in each other’s arms. Elizabeth’s head was resting on Angel’s shoulder, her hands possessive on those wrapped around her middle. It was the exact way Buffy now stood with Angelus. She stiffened, wanted to shift, but didn’t. This was her favorite way to stand with him, he at her back, his length hard and reassuring behind her. 

If she felt that way, then Elizabeth would as well, Buffy figured. Hated her for that, hated just about everything that had to do with this situation. 

“You fought for her,” Buffy said and was mildly surprised that those words came out of her mouth. 

She wanted to ask what had happened between the time she disappeared and now. She wanted to know what happened to her mother, why it’d taken so long for them to pull her back, and why only Willow had done so. Why they bothered after so long, why they hadn’t asked her, Buffy, what she wanted. She wanted to ask a million questions other than the one that had left her mouth. 

“You fought the demon for her, didn’t you, Angel?” Buffy asked, knowing the vampire before her well enough – and the differences between he and his demon, and he and her Angelus – to know that he still retained his soul. And she hated that. Hated that Angel had fought his demon for Elizabeth when he couldn’t for her. 

“Yes,” he said quietly, eyes locking with hers. His hands tightened around Elizabeth, unwilling to let her go. They’d all made their decisions. 

“You fought for someone you knew for months when you were unwilling to do so for me?” Her voice was hard, angry, bitter. 

“Yes,” he said again. “Because I realized that I couldn’t let her go.” 

“But you could me?” Buffy demanded. It hurt more than she thought it would, more than it had when Angel first left her over a year ago. “You fought the curse, the demon for someone you’d known only months but you couldn’t do that for me, when we were together for nearly three years?” 

“You fought for Angelus,” Angel said instead. Knowing the truth in her words, acknowledging them, and then turning them onto her. “You decided to stay with him, allowed him to turn you.” 

“Fuck you,” Buffy spat, tensing. What was the point of ranting and raving when it’d get her nowhere? What was the point of spewing all her hatred towards Angel, all the hurt he’d caused her, when she had what – and more importantly who – she wanted. She had Angelus. “I’m with an Angelus who loves me, he fights for me, he wants only me, and he loves only me.” 

Angel nodded again. “And Elizabeth loves only me.”

Heavy silence descended upon the two couples as they stared at each other. Elizabeth looking at the woman who was and was not herself and the demon who was the hero of all the legends she knew. Buffy stared at her former lover and the her that was and was not her, and wondered why Angel hadn’t loved her enough to fight Angelus for her. 

In the end it hadn’t mattered, she was with Angelus, with the soulless demon who still loved despite all that. Who loved her. So fuck Angel. She didn’t need him. No, Buffy didn’t need an Angel who couldn’t fight for her. She had her Angelus, and he did. He fought even herself for her love. That, Buffy could live with. 

Angelus wasn’t sure what he felt. His priority was Buffy’s safety. Thus far, she was safe, and that was fine, but there was a murderous streak within him that wanted to rip Angel apart for whatever hurts he’d inflicted upon Angelus’ lover. But that left another problem. Two actually. 

One was that if Angel hadn’t fucked up so badly, then Angelus would never have found Buffy. If Angel hadn’t left her, then Buffy wouldn’t have ever found her way, however that had happened, to him. 

And second, Elizabeth would be alone. She’d be alone without her Angel, her Marked Mate, and…and that, too, was unacceptable. He couldn’t let Buffy, no matter what incarnation she was, no matter that she wasn’t his Buffy, roam the Earth without her Mate. Alone and unprotected. 

This wasn’t something his hundred years of terrifying Europe had prepared him for. This kind of paradox wasn’t something he wanted to deal with. 

“We’re leaving,” Buffy announced finally, breaking the thick silence. “We’re going back to our world, and we’re going to stay there.” 

“Good,” Elizabeth said but it wasn’t for the reasons Buffy suspected. So she elaborated. “I’m from the future where you’re not there,” she said. “I’m from that future where you disappeared – probably about the timeframe you had, when Willow pulled you from there – but you never returned. It’s chaos, factions fighting each other for ground and profit and resources. It’s worse than your worst nightmare.” 

There was a lot to tell them, but that knowledge would do them no good. Not if they went back, for in doing so, they’d change history – her past, their future – and it’d all be moot, anyway. 

“By going back,” Elizabeth said instead, “You’ll bring stability to the world, human and demonic.” 

Angelus nodded, wondering just what else she knew, could tell them. One look at Angel and Angelus kept quiet. He looked protective, like he didn’t want Elizabeth to retell her secrets. No, Angelus couldn’t blame the other vampire. He’d ask Angel, and if there was anything worth telling, then he’d learn that way. 

He wasn’t overly fond of the vampire, didn’t like what he’d done to Buffy, but then he was faced with that paradox again. If Angel hadn’t done what he’d done, then Angelus wouldn’t have ever met Buffy. For that and that alone, Angelus was willing to forget all about it. Besides, he had his own Elizabeth now…one, Angelus wondered, who could have been his own Mate.

Okay, too much there. There were too many possibilities there that didn’t bear thinking, of and frankly, Angelus was developing a headache. Over a hundred years of vampirism, of excess and death and destruction, and this was the first time he’d developed a headache. He wasn’t even aware vampires could get headaches. 

A lance of jealously flashed through Angelus, however. He’d never get to conquer Buffy. Not in the way Angel – and his demon – had. He’d never know what it was like to have her submit to him, to bend that strong will to his. He’d never have the chance to fight her, to wield his power against hers. Never know what it was like to have her fight him. She had, oh she had in England, but it wasn’t quite the same. 

There, they’d mutually wanted each other. Had had each other. And while Buffy had submitted to him, had let him dominate her despite her strength, Angelus hadn’t ever had the chance to bend her…to break her as his. 

Spike and William, Dru and Drusilla entered just then, breaking the tension between the four. 

“Mummy!” Drusilla smiled and raced across the foyer to Buffy. 

“Mummy!” Dru smiled and raced across the foyer to Elizabeth. 

William and Spike stood where they were, watching the spectacle before them. Spike shook his head and lighted a cigarette, William wondered if there were words enough in the English language to describe the romance of a vampire finding his Mate in a Slayer in not one, but two universes.

“We’re leaving,” Angelus said, tone brooking no arguments. “I don’t want to stay here any longer than I have to.” 

“How you getting back, mate?” Spike asked and blew out a puff of smoke. Elizabeth glared at him, but he took one more puff before crushing the fag beneath his heel. Defiant, yes, but he really did like his skin where it was. Attached to his body. And in one piece. Angel was all ‘Whatever Elizabeth wants’ now, and Spike knew that if Elizabeth wanted Spike tortured for the simplest thing, he would. 

“How’d we wind up here in this time and place?” William asked, still a little unclear on what had happened in the first place. 

“Willow is responsible for that,” a new voice said. 

“Rupert,” Angel said in a neutral tone, but his eyes flashed golden. He’d already discussed things with the watcher; there was no reason for him to return to their home. Except maybe this one.

“Christ,” Giles whispered and rubbed his forehead. He wondered if Angel had any aspirin, but didn’t supposed vampires got headaches. His head, on the other hand, was about to explode. “She pulled all of you back?” He didn’t expect an answer and didn’t wait for one. “Probably doesn’t even know she did. So damned proud of herself, she never thought of the consequences.” 

And then he took a good look at Buffy, relief flooding through him. 

“Buffy!” Giles smiled, walked to hug her, his relief doubling at seeing his Slayer. 

Until he realized. That she was with Angelus, that she sported an open wound where her Mate’s Mark lay. That she was a vampire. 

With Elizabeth, there was foreknowledge of the act, there was also a kind of distance between it. Elizabeth wasn’t Buffy, and while it killed a piece of Giles to see her Turned, it wasn’t…this.

Enraged, Giles flew at Angelus without thinking. 

In a smooth and swift move, Angelus moved Buffy behind him, out of harm’s way, and grabbed Giles, ready to snap his neck. 

“Angelus, no!” Buffy shouted, quickly moving around him. 

“He'll never let you go, love,” Angelus said, knowing the reason for Buffy’s outburst. And not caring. This man – her watcher from what she told him in London – tried to kill him. What guarantee had Angelus that Rupert Giles wouldn’t kill Buffy, too? “Look at him, baby, we'll spend the rest of his miserable existence fending off his attempts to retrieve you and kill you.” 

“Please,” she whispered, soft hands on his arm, eyes pleading. 

Growling, Angelus threw Giles aside, not bothering to look where he landed. He took Buffy by the shoulders, crushing his lips to hers, making sure everyone in the room – former lovers, other Buffys, old watchers – knew who she belonged to. 

Giles slowly stood, forcing his anger, his fear, his hatred of the monster before him into a small compartment that he summarily locked. He couldn’t afford either vampire – er, either Angel – to know how he felt about the Turning of his Slayer. Either Slayer. My kingdom for an aspirin, Giles thought bleakly. 

Buffy turned to face her watcher, stepping up to Giles, and gently cupping his cheek. “You can’t change it, can’t fight it, Giles. Some things are just meant to be and this is one of them. Without me with him...things would go badly...very badly for that world in such a magnitude you don’t even want to comprehend. Just know I'm happy and where I want to be.” She smiled then, an old Buffy smile – brilliant, young, happy. “For once in my life I'm completely and totally happy Giles, let me be so.”  

“Buffy,” Giles started, saddened beyond emotion.  

“Sshh,” Buffy whispered, gently placing a finger over his lips. “Use the chance I've gotten you and live, be happy, Giles, please. But don’t try to bring me back I don’t belong here anymore.” 

Giles looked at her for a long moment before nodding. There were tears in his eyes, but he backed away. Blinking, he banished those tears, for Buffy, for Elizabeth, for lost innocence.  

“I thought, Giles,” Angel said when he saw the moment between Buffy and her watcher was over. “That I told you to leave.” 

Giles nodded, a weak, sad smile flitting across his face when Buffy’s head whipped around to look at Angel. “Yes,” he agreed, “And I was on my way to pack, but I stumbled across Willow sitting in my living room. The remnants of a strong spell were littered – and burnt – about my house. She said,” Giles said with a look at Buffy, “That she’d brought Buffy back.” 

Angelus growled at that, anger for this so called friend rising within him. “She did this?” He demanded. “She pulled Buffy back without asking?” 

“Yes,” Giles nodded, eyes betraying his own anger over that, voice dropping into a growl. “She wanted to bring Buffy back, apparently at any cost. And whether Buffy wanted to come back or not.” 

“Why were you leaving?” Buffy demanded, glaring at Angel. She hadn’t forgiven him for this, wasn’t sure she ever would. Angelus’ reassuring presence at her back clamed her, but didn't completely ease her anger and tension.  

“Ah,” Giles said with a short nod. “It seems that Angel has taken over the Hellmouth. I’m going back to Los Angeles with Wesley and Cordelia and your mother, Buffy. Joyce is going to set up a new gallery there, and I’m going to continue to help with the fight.” 

Buffy wanted to argue, wanted to know why anyone had to leave Sunnydale, but Angelus beat her to it. “The balance, lover,” Angelus said, “He’s maintaining the balance between good and evil.” 

“Ah,” Buffy nodded. What more was there to say about that? Wanted to ask why he was doing this for Elizabeth but hadn’t for her. Wanted to know why he stopped with the Hellmouth, but hadn’t gone further. 

“Not just Sunnydale’s, but all the Hellmouths, all five of them,” Angel clarified.  

Angelus nodded in agreement, in acknowledgement of Angel’s information, keeping that information to himself. He might need it when they returned to their world. He could also see what Angel was doing; it was the same as what he was. Keeping his Mate safe and to hell with anyone else. Fuck the world, they don’t matter. All that does, all that ever did, was Her.

“It seems to me,” Angel said with a nod to Spike and Dru, “That we have a mutual problem then.” 

“Willow,” Angelus agreed, already not liking the woman. But wondering just what kind of power she possessed. And how it could be beneficial to him. 

“Yes.” 

Dru giggled and beckoned to Drusilla, and together the two vampiress left the mansion, Spike and William not far behind. Whatever the others were going to discuss next, they weren’t involved. And despite the fact that it was some of the best drama any had seen in a good long while, there were other things to learn. 

Like what it was like in the other world.

Part 26        Part 28

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