Track A 

Willow was frantic. 

Buffy had suddenly disappeared from the party – not that the other woman could blame her, it was deadly dull and Riley was hanging all over her as if trying to compensate for his monumental failure at everything else he had once thought important in his life. Again, not that Willow held that completely against the ex-soldier, but everyone had their limits and it was about damn time Riley accepted his; all this whining about what the Slayer could and could not do as opposed to him was getting damn annoying. 

Still, all that aside, that was no reason to just get up and leave and not even have the decency to take your best friend with you. 

Seemed the least Buffy could do – save her from the evil of the night and save her from the evil boring parties. 

So Willow searched the entire building, including the basement, which was not her idea, basements and just about anyone in the Scooby gang (past and present) didn’t go very well together. But she searched nonetheless then she dragged an equally bored Tara – frat parties just weren’t either of their thing – with her. They avoided Riley with the skilled ease of avoiding vampires, and branched out on the campus. Finding no trace of either Buffy or whatever had taken her – if that was indeed the case – they made their way to Giles’. 

Maybe he had called or she had called him or (and this was a pretty big ‘or’ but Willow was desperate) Angel had shown up and he and Buffy had gone somewhere to talk. Hey, a best friend who’d had a recent epiphany could hope, couldn’t she? 

Giles, however, was equally in the dark. “No, I haven’t seen Buffy since this afternoon when she…” Begged wasn’t the right word, “and I conferred over the possibility of some sort of evil turning up while she was at the party.” 

Willow collapsed onto the couch, Tara hovering just behind her. “I looked everywhere I could think of, Giles. She didn’t leave with Riley, he was still at the party when we made our excuses, and hightailed it on over here. I called her house, but there was no answer, Xander’s checking it out now. I called my house, just in case, but my parents aren’t even home.” 

She smiled at the offered cup of tea. No matter the situation, from world in peril to Willow trying to have her will be done, Giles always offered tea. It was such a comfort anymore that Willow didn’t even question it. 

Xander and Anya walked through the door just then, “Buffy’s was a bust, no one was there. The lights were out and the doors locked, even her window was closed tight,” No one mentioned that this was a first; Buffy never shut her window all the way and whether it was a holdover from when Angel used to visit or a quick way in and out of her room, no one really knew. “And from what I could see through the window, nothing looked amiss.” 

He accepted his own cup of tea, absently noting the ease with which he did so. Too many years of this, he supposed. 

“I think we should call Angel.” 

Willow’s words, out of the blue as they were, shocked no one. It was more than the vampire needed to know Buffy was missing, if she truly was gone and no one had any idea where to look for her, then they needed him to find her. They could probably do it on their own, but that would take time and resources and Angel was, by far, the best at tracking. 

Especially at tracking Buffy. 

Though none of them would admit it aloud, the connection between the Slayer and her Vampire was strong enough for him to find her anywhere. Frankly, it freaked the rest of them out, but they were desperate. It wasn’t like Buffy to just up and disappear. Something had to happen to her, and that something was always, always, bad. 

“Very well, I shall call. Willow, Tara, why don’t you two go change, Xander, walk them home, would you? I don’t want anyone out alone.”

The four of them left, Anya not willing to stay at Giles’ when her boyfriend was in potential danger. Had to love that kind of loyalty. From memory Giles dialed Angel’s number when the recording came on as no longer in service; he sighed his worry doubling and looked up Cordelia’s number. 

“Hello?” The voice was clearly Cordelia’s but it was exasperated and tinged just a little with fear. 

“Cordelia, it’s Giles,” the ex-Watcher said with relief, “Do you know where I can reach Angel?” 

“Hold on, Giles, he’s here, pacing like some caged animal, muttering about something or other and DRIVING ME CRAZY!” This last was obviously not directed at Giles but at the vampire in question. Who then apparently grabbed the phone out of Cordelia’s hand because her protest of rude treatment could be heard clearly across the line. 

“Giles? What’s wrong, what happened to Buffy?” The words ran together, tumbling out of Angel’s mouth faster than his lips could move and faster than Giles had ever heard him speak.

That, more than Buffy’s disappearance, scared Giles. 

How did he know…? No matter, that was unimportant at the moment. “I’m afraid I have no idea, Angel, she disappeared from a party she and Willow were attending. No one has been able to locate her thus far.” 

“I’m on my way now.” And he hung up much to the not surprise of Giles. 

Turning to Cordelia, Angel said, “Buffy’s missing. I’m going to Sunnydale.” And he turned to pack a small bag, not taking the time to explain anything. 

Cordelia sighed. “Well then I’m coming with you.” She said as she grabbed her phone again and called Wesley, walking into her room as she did so, to pack as well. It was these last minute trips that got her every time; the finesse of what to pack always boiled down to ‘what do I have time to throw into a bag before they either leave without me or drag me out of here.’
~~~~~~~~~
Ninety minutes later, they pulled in front of Giles’ apartment complex. 

Neither Wesley nor Cordelia said a word at the speed with which Angel drove, and frankly, they were just happy to arrive in one piece. Carefully prying her fingers from the door handle, Cordelia breathed deeply and opened the passenger door, stepping out with a sigh of relief that she could stand on her shaking legs. And people said she was a horrible driver. 

Everyone was there, everyone that is except Buffy. And Riley whom no one seemed to want to call; whether it was because of guilt that they had called Angel or just general forgetfulness, it was a toss up. But Angel already knew that Buffy was gone, he hadn’t been able to sense her for hours now and it was slowly eating away at him. He was sure she wasn’t dead, 99% sure at least. 

No she had simply…disappeared. 

They separated into groups and prepared to comb the town, leaving a note for Buffy to call one of the LA team’s cell phones should she suddenly turn up.

It was close to sunrise when they trudged back inside, bone weary with no sign of her and nothing except a fine sheen of vampire dust coating their clothes for their troubles; the Slayer may have been missing, but the vampires were out in full force. Angel stared out into nothing, repeating the mantra he had begun the moment he had realized that the faint buzzing that was their connection was no longer there. It had abruptly ceased: there one moment and gone the next. 

‘She is not dead.’  

Forty-eight hours later he was still repeating that to himself, refusing to let the belief go despite the facts to the contrary. He knew she wasn’t dead, just because their link was no longer there didn’t mean that she was dead. There were a thousand reasons why he could no longer feel her; there had to be. He just had to keep looking; if he looked long enough then he’d find her. It was as simple as that. 

They had told Riley when the young man had shown up at Giles’ wondering where Buffy was. The fact that it was almost 12 hours since her disappearance before he wondered did nothing for his reputation. Cordelia wondered what Buffy saw in him, but had the decency to wait to voice that question until after he left. The answers she received did nothing to revise her opinion or endear him to her. 

Needless to say, Riley wasn’t happy with the fact that no one had told him his girlfriend was missing and had called her ex-demon lover to assist instead. But even he realized that they needed all the help they could get and he wouldn’t let, he would absolutely not let, his insecurities about Buffy’s relationship with Angel interfere with this search. 

After she was found, he’d make sure the vampire was gone for good from her life, but until then everyone realized Angel was needed.

Angel hadn’t been sleeping well, scouring the sewers during the daylight hours and the town during the night hours. He hadn’t been feeding well, either. It was Spike, of all people who tried to get Angel to drink just a little blood – and from his own supply at Giles, too. 

The change in the younger vampire was not unnoticed, just not commented upon; no one knew what to say. And hey, if he wanted to help, they needed everyone they could get. And if he helped Angel, then that was okay, too. Angel knew what it was, the imperative of the Childe to help the Sire; apparently Spike hadn’t forgotten everything and Angel was more than grateful. 

It was thirty minutes before dawn, two days, eight hours and five minutes after he had first realized she was missing when Angel suddenly sat straight up, paused for a moment then bolted for the door. The rest of the gang, exhausted and near collapsing themselves, debated following him but a minute after he was gone he returned with a bundle in his arms, which could only be Buffy.
~~~~~~~~~~
Everything hurt. 

That wasn’t entirely true, most of her hurt but the pounding in her head drowned out much of the pain in the rest of her body leaving her to reason that as soon as that lessened, then the pain in the rest of her would make itself known. But if she felt pain then she was alive and even if the voices floating around her were foreign, at least that much was certain. 

At least that’s what she thought. 

The arms holding her, however, were another story. 

They were large and strong, steel bands holding her tight to a solid chest and for all that, comforting somehow. Which was odd as the sense she was getting off the body near her was off. Cooler, almost like a vampire’s…which was even odder as the only reason Elizabeth could come up with for her being in a vampire’s arms was that she had been captured on patrol… 

And that was what finally woke her up, the thought that she had failed in her duty and was now about to lose her life because of a mistake she made and one that she couldn’t even remember making at the moment. She squirmed a bit causing the arms to release her and she found she immediately missed their comfort. It was long moments later that she found the energy to open her eyes. Trying to focus on something that looked even remotely familiar, she blinked a few times but whatever had hit her wasn’t letting her out of its grip just yet. 

A large figure hunkered down in front of her, but Elizabeth couldn’t focus on that, either. The words he spoke were soothing and soft, full of worry and love and when his hand took hers, she couldn’t surpass a gasp of shock at the electricity flowing from him to her and back again.

Angry voices crashed into her and she tried to look away from those deep brown eyes, the only thing she could focus on, but found she didn’t want to. What was going on here? 

Shouts, loud voices that hurt her head and throbbed through every part of her in excruciating pain. Then calmer voices arguing back, both familiar and not, telling…someone to back off, that he had no rights here and that…interrupted by a soothing English voice that Elizabeth clung to even as her eyes tried to focus again. 

“Giles…Cordelia?” At her spoken words, quiet though they were, the other voices stopped and Elizabeth thanked the Powers for the quiet. Which was short lived as she uttered, “Who are all these people?” 

Thankfully, her conscious state was short lived as well.
~~~~~~~~~~
Cordelia Chase stared at the woman lying on Giles’ couch and tried not to wonder why she had voiced her name instead of just about anyone else’s. She was brought out of her reverie when Xander asked the group in general, “Does anyone else find it odd that Buffy asked for Cordy first?” 

“Frankly, Xander, if you were listening to anything Angel and I have been saying for the past hour then you’d realize that something else is very wrong here.” 

Giles was at the end of his rope, worry for his charge, stress over too many people crowding into his house, plus the rivalry Riley insisted on bringing out with Angel when all the vampire wanted to do was watch over his lover…well, ok, it wasn’t like Angel was completely blame free her. The vampire was jealous, possessive and very much the alpha-vampire as he watched over apparently not-their Buffy. 

Still, it was almost too much.

“Angel, please take Buffy upstairs, I think she’ll be out for a while and we need her for most of the questions we have.” He watched the vampire bundle his precious charge in his arms before climbing the stairs to Giles’ bed. Frankly, the former watcher didn’t care about the daggers Riley was shooting at him; he had more important things to worry about than the bruised ego of the former commando.

Turning to the rest of the group, “In the mean time, Willow and Tara, I want you to take Anya to the magic store and find the ingredients to the spell we discussed earlier; if this is indeed not our Buffy then we have to find out where ours is and from where this one came.” 

They left and Giles focused on the remaining members and sighed. Riley, what to do with the boy? He was good for…following Buffy. He lacked in the research department but considering up until the last few months he thought all demons were vile creatures to be experimented upon that was almost to be expected; couldn’t patrol now that the drugs were out of his system, and was going to wind up dead from one of them if Angel didn’t perform that task himself. 

Finally he said, “The rest of you…find a place to sleep and get some, your constant chattering is driving me crazy.” 

The uncharacteristic statement from the usually unflappable Englishman was enough to have the remaining members do exactly as he suggested. And for the first time in days Giles listened to the silence that settled over his apartment.
~~~~~~~~~~
“Right, you said that Buffy isn’t our Buffy. And how exactly do you know this?” 

“I know.” 

Angel wasn’t about to go into detail on how he knew that the woman laying in the bed upstairs was not the same whose face she wore. There were obvious signs, like the lack of scar on her neck, his brand that proclaimed her completely his. There was the hair, longer and more feminine, despite the long, thick braid, than she had worn it in a while. Her clothes were practical, that was true, but they were also expensive much more along the lines of what Cordelia would own. Though Buffy certainly wasn’t fashion blind, she’d become more practical with her choice in clothing since becoming the Slayer. 

And then there was her scent. 

She smelled the same, that was true, but there were things missing from that, too. An air of sadness and loss of hope surrounded this Buffy, the air surrounding her that proclaimed how much she missed him, was absent from the woman he had found outside. No one else seemed to know this wasn’t her, but Angel did. 

He always would. 

Tara said something about her aura being different on some levels, but was basically the same person. And Willow murmured with not a little guilt, about how they hadn’t known that Faith was in Buffy's body and was this the same? Something to which Angel felt another stab of guilt over, helping Faith; which he knew to be the right thing to do, but she had hurt Buffy so much…he couldn’t think of that now, there were more immediate concerns with which to deal. 

But no, she was just not their Buffy. 

Which didn’t make any sense, but then life on the Hellmouth rarely did. 

Angel looked up at Giles’ bedroom as if he could see the woman there through the ceiling and discern all the answers that way. But he couldn’t and he hated to wait until she awoke. Not because he was afraid that she wouldn’t, nor yet that she wouldn’t have the answers. No he was afraid that she wouldn’t be his Buffy though he knew this already. That she wouldn’t know him, that she wouldn’t want to know him. That she wouldn’t want him at all. 

The fact that he had left her for fairly decent reasons, the fact that he wanted her to have some kind of normal life, the fact that he wanted things for her that he knew he’d never be able to give her. All these things didn’t matter in the face of the fact that he might have lost her permanently. 

Sure, there was the knowledge that she had Riley in her life, the other man wouldn’t leave Giles’ apartment no matter what any of them said, and the knowledge that she had made strong strides towards some kind of a life with him. But Angel knew, in a secret part of himself that was clearly labeled ‘BUFFY’ that it didn’t matter. That no matter what either of them said or did or what lies they told the other...it didn’t matter and would never matter because they would always belong to each other. 

Whether this was a hope that he had for the blurry undefined future or whether it was the part that was her speaking to him, Angel didn’t know. 

All he knew was that he needed her – alive and in his life. If that was two hours away, so be it. If they no longer moved together in the same circle, it didn’t matter because they fought the same fight and did so for the other. 

In the back of his mind, Angel could hear Angelus roar. His demon, much like his soul, raged at the boy, at Riley’s place in Buffy’s life. Feared that their Buffy was lost to them forever and that this one was all they’d ever have left of her. Wanted this Buffy the same as they wanted the other because she was Buffy and there was no way either would ever not want her. 

They both knew that the woman upstairs was and was not their mate. It didn’t matter if she didn’t bear their mark; even if it turned out she had no knowledge of him (them.) She was his and he, they both, would be damned if she slipped away again. If this was Fate or Destiny or The Powers or whomever telling him that he screwed up he’d accept that and make it better. 

He lost her, he almost lost her and Angel wouldn’t let that happen again. Angelus laughed deep within him. Agreeing with the sentiment, agreeing with the knowledge that Buffy was his and to let her go again would be the last thing either ever did. But his demon didn’t agree with everything the soul wanted; after all, was this Buffy worthy enough to be called his Mate? 

This Buffy was not yet theirs, but she would be, here or not, it didn’t matter. She would be. Her love that warmed them, her passion that excited them. The way her lips caressed theirs, the way she breathed his name, Angel, as she clenched around him. Angelus hated that Buffy never accepted him as she had Angel, that it was never his name she said. Never his name she shouted as she came around his cock. 

That would change. Whether their Buffy returned to them or not, this one would be theirs, too.

Angel’s eyes locked with Spike’s and the elder knew the younger understood the situation as well. When one marks a Mate, that feeling, that connection transmits to the rest of one’s family. When Angel/Angelus Marked Buffy, all Angel’s Childer and their Childer recognized that and knew to steer clear. Spike recognized it, but never listened to Angel in the first place. Angelus, yes, Angel, no. 

It was different now. Now there was more to the connection or lack thereof. Now Spike took on the role of the Childer as he had never done before, now Spike helped Angel, and by turns, would help Buffy, even this Buffy, as well. He couldn’t name the emotion that sparked within him at that, or why now he’d decided to change and do so. 

All Spike knew was that he had to help Angel and this Buffy and so he was going to do just that. 

And somewhere else two beings looked down on the mess they had made and hoped that this would fix it.

Part 5        Part 7

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