Wolf Pack (Continued)

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Chapter Twenty-Six: The Friend

"Stop," Buffy giggled as Angelus’ hands came around her slim waist, capturing her in a solid hold.

The handsome pack leader laughed lightly at her weak attempt to end his constant handling of her, and pulled her to him, clutching at her stomach as he kissed her neck. "I can’t stop. Not when you look good enough to eat."

"That’s what breakfast is for, Mister," she scolded playfully, trying to pull away from his strong clasp and at the same time, not wanting to either. It was so warm and safe in his embrace, and she couldn‘t leave it, not when it felt this good. "Come on! We’re going to be late if you keep ravishing me like this," she said, tugging him down the staircase.

He growled and nipped at her neck. "We’re already late, my love."

They had been in the bedroom for hours, and had finally managed to shower and dress. They were at least a half hour late, and there was no doubt that the rest of the clan would wonder about them.

Angelus’ hands worked up her red top so he could caress the smooth skin beneath the intruding piece of cloth.

"They’ll all drop dead if they see us all giggly like this," she moaned when he placed a firm kiss on her lips.

He raised one dark brow. "Excuse me? I do *not* giggle," he insisted.

Buffy rolled her eyes.

Angelus grinned. "I chuckle, I laugh . . . I grunt."

"A lot," Buffy added.

"You weren’t complaining last night," he whispered suggestively in her ear.

Buffy blushed and pushed him away when they finally reached the entrance of the dining room. "Behave yourself," she muttered in warning, his eyes still glinting in mischief.

Everyone stopped mid conversation as the enchanting pair walked casually to their seats, holding hands and fighting hard to keep from laughing at pack’s shocked expressions.

Silence permeated the dining room, the ticking of the grandfather’s clock right by the window the only sound that could be heard.

"Morning," the two of them muttered in unison.

Angelus held Buffy’s hand more firmly in his own, squeezing it with reassurance as he slightly fingered the ring on her left hand. Everyone’s eyes quickly gazed at the glittering diamond with awe and a sense of cheer through the stillness.

Willow, Cordelia, and Kendra gasped and stared at Buffy in shock and horror. Buffy smiled at them and winked as Angelus led her down the narrow space of the dining room and helped her sit on her usual chair next to the head of the table.

She smiled up at him, not breaking the silence as he kissed her crown before sitting on his own seat.

Angelus cleared his throat, but realized it was futile when he noticed that they already had everyone’s attention. "We have an announcement to make," he said, grinning at Buffy as they continued to hold hands.

"Ahhhhh!" Cordy was the first to scream out her shock.

Willow and Kendra soon followed as they ran towards a very surprised and blushing Buffy and started blabbing on with excitement.

"Oh, my god!"

"I can’t believe it!"

"It’s beautiful."

"I know."

"You slut!"

"You didn’t even tell us!"

Angelus gazed at the giggling girls and laughed in amusement. "We’re engaged," he told everyone.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Buffy was on cloud nine as she washed the dishes in the kitchen, a smile playing on her lips as she hummed a tune she had learned from her father when she was a young girl.

Everyone had wished her and Angelus the best of luck, offering their best wishes. Joyce had cried, threatening Angelus with tears in her eyes and motherly pride on her shoulders.

Her baby girl was getting married.

The twins rejoiced and presented Buffy with hugs tight enough to take her breath away. And while Cole shook Angelus hand like a grown up, Dylan had whispered, "I’m still your favorite guy, right?"

Buffy had laughed, kissed his smooth cheek, and nodded. "Wouldn’t have it any other way."

She was so gone that she didn’t even notice Spike standing by the kitchen doorway until she turned to leave for Angelus’ study room for some one on one make out session.

"Hey, Spike," she greeted cheerily, drying her hands with a towel.

He gave her a small smile. "Congratulations," he said, nodding towards her left hand, where the glittering diamond surrounded her ring finger perfectly . . . like it had been made to be there.

"Thank you," Buffy smiled genuinely, lifting up her hand to admire the engagement ring once again.

"Angelus is a lucky man," Spike stated, shoving his hands in his jean pockets.

"I’m a lucky woman," Buffy cleared.

Silence fell upon them, not something that often happened between two very good friends.

"Do you love him?" Spike asked.

Buffy looked up at him, surprised. "Of course I do," she answered truthfully.

"Then I’m happy for you," Spike said, forcing a smile.

Silence.

Buffy finally realized what this was all about, and her heart quietly broke for Spike. It wasn’t pity that surged through her insides, it was the fact that she had found her true soul mate in Angelus while Spike continued to believe that she was still his.

For most of their life, they had both believed they were destined. But this wasn’t so. The Moon and the Shadow both had different plans for them, and Buffy knew that Spike couldn’t accept that until he found who *he* was meant for.

But for now, Buffy could only give him her friendship, and the familiar comfort it usually presented to both of them. It was all she can do . . . for now.

"I’ll always love you, Spike," Buffy said.

Blue eyes stared up at her, pain written clearly within them. "But you’ll always love him more . . . right?" he asked bitterly.

"I can’t help what I feel," she said desperately, and then placed a hand against her chest, right above where her heart stood beating, "He healed my soul . . . he filled the void . . . and I fell in love with him because of it."

"I could’ve done that for you, Buffy . . . " Spike said, tears glazing his eyes, "I could’ve bloody been there for you . . . you know I would’ve."

Buffy smiled sadly and walked up to him, placing a tender hand against his cheek. He closed his eyes and leaned against it, desperate for more of her touch . . . because he knew that if she touched him again, it wouldn’t ever be the same. She would be married, and he would be alone with only the memories.

"Don’t do this to yourself, Spike," she pleaded.

He placed his hand over hers and knew that this was the end . . . that he couldn’t do anything about it any longer. She belonged to Angelus, the Moon and the Shadow made sure of that when the poofter won the rights of the pack . . . and when Buffy gained the position as his queen.

"I can’t help but love you," Spike told her, "And I can’t help but want you to be in love with me."

Buffy’s lip quivered in distress, the truth and despair in his voice causing something in her heart to clench. This was truly the end of the Buffy and Spike saga. She threw her arms around his neck and began sobbing. "You’ll always have me as your friend, Spike," she said, "But I’m not the one for you."

"You are, luv," Spike said frantically, holding her closer as he fought the tears, "You are the one for me. I‘ve always known that. Everybody bloody knows that."

"Spike . . . please," Buffy begged.

"I’m really loosing aren’t I?" he laughed bitterly.

It was over.

It was all over.

"Don’t say that," Buffy said, taking his face between her hands and making him look at her, "I’m still here aren’t I?"

"But you won’t be mine," he whispered.

"Spike . . . "

"I’m sorry, pet . . . " he said, shaking his head and laughing away his pain, "This is supposed to be your perky day. I’m just bloody ruinin’ it for you."

Buffy embraced him again, more fiercely this time. "You’ll always be a part of me, Spike. Don’t ever doubt that."

He closed his eyes. He just had to accept this. This was meant to be.

"Just promise me one thing, luv," he said, holding her tightly and more intensely as the tears of loss quietly cascaded down his face.

"Tell me," Buffy urged softly.

"That I’ll always have a place in your heart," he said.

"That wouldn’t be a promise, Spike," Buffy smiled against his neck, "That’s a fact."

Spike smiled and pulled away. "C’mon, pet," he said, eyes pleading, "How bout a walk in the gardens. For old time’s sake."

Buffy nodded and kissed him on the cheek before clasping his hand.

If the Goddess and the King said it was the end, the two of them could only make the best of it. The bond between Buffy and Spike was strong, but it didn’t hold the blessing of the Powers.

"Buffy?"

"Yeah, Spike?"

"You’re not gonna tell anyone that I bloody cried, right?"

Buffy just chuckled.

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Chapter Twenty-Seven: The Betrayal

Faith crept quietly inside Angelus’ study room, admiring him with a wicked gleam in her rich brown eyes as he worked attentively on his desk, face marred charmingly in a captivating frown, and making him look more attractive than before.

He was the sexiest specimen she had ever met . . . and soon, he would be hers. Very soon.

"How can I help you, Faith?" he asked, stirring the brunette out of her immoral thoughts as he continued working without looking up from the papers he was scanning over.

She smiled and then shrugged, running tentative fingers against the spines of his book collection that stood in the far wall in neat rows in an antique bookcase. "Just wanted to say congratulations . . . on your engagement to Princess Wolf," she said with an evil leer that caught Angelus’ attention.

"Thank you," he said simply, frowning a bit, "Is that all?"

Faith looked at him in surprise and smirked. He wasn’t going to be fooled by her bullshit. Good. He wasn‘t gullible.

"Fine," Faith stated, "I’ll get right to the point."

"Good," Angelus said, "I was growing rather bored."

"Ouch," she feigned hurt, but looked impressed at his comeback.

"Faith," he said with a forced smile, "I know this isn’t a social visit where we sit around and drink tea and talk about the weather for two hours. I wanna know what you’re doing here."

"I think we both know what I’m here for," she whispered huskily as she sashayed towards Angelus like a predator on the hunt.

Problem was, Angelus was a predator himself.

He quirked and eyebrow and finally sat back in his chair, gazing at her with curiosity. He could tell from the expression on her face, and the twinkle in her eyes that she came here to seduce.

"Question is . . . will I fall for it?" Angelus countered back as she draped herself like silk on his desk.

Angelus had seen this before. And it had often worked . . . too bad he was a taken man, and there was no way in hell he was going to fall for it when he already had a beautiful golden goddess he was desperately in love with.

Faith would have to get her kicks elsewhere.

He heard that Spike was having a tough time dealing with the new situation of him and Buffy. Maybe Faith could keep him company for a while.

"Oh you will fall for it," she promised, eyes darkening with lust. " ‘Cause I know what you really need."

"Do you?’ Angelus asked, deciding to humor her.

This was a little girl, still new in the world of grow ups, and trying to play a leading roll. It wasn’t working. She was still a rookie no matter how many men she’s had in her bed.

"You don’t want innocence, Angelus," she breathed lowly, fingering the end of her red top as she slowly exposed a part of her creamy flesh, "You want danger . . . because it’s familiar territory, right?"

Angelus wanted to laugh.

"Familiar territory?" he asked, "More like I own the whole damn territory, sweetheart."

She grinned and placed both her feet on either side of him, biting on her lower lip. The way Buffy did . . . Faith just hoped he noticed. She gently kneaded her breasts and threw her head back in ecstasy, moaning out his name like a prayer older than time itself.

"You want me," she whispered and then stared at him with hooded eyes, "I know you do."

Angelus chuckled softly. "Yeah, I’m aching just to be with you," he laughed, "Can’t you tell?"

Faith stopped and glared at him. "You’re mocking me?"

"You’re mocking yourself, Faith," Angelus snapped back ad shook his head softly, "I don’t know what kind of game you’re pulling, but it’s not working. I’m happy with what I have. Do you really think I’m gonna waste that on you?" he snorted, "Dream on, school girl."

Faith lifted up a hand and was about to strike him in the face when he caught her wrist. "Don’t," Angelus growled warningly as the pair glared at one another, "I have my human morals to hold me back from beating the shit out of you, Faith . . . but we both know that the two us are werewolves . . . and in our morals, it doesn’t say anything about that . . . now does it?"

Faith was panting. She knew she was in a very dangerous position that no one, humans and werewolves alike shouldn‘t be in. When a pack member attacks their leader, it was a challenge of dominance.

He pushed her wrist away hard enough to make her tumble the floor. She snapped her head back and glared at him again.

"I think you should leave," he sighed, continuing on with his paper work, "And we’ll forget about this incident."

Faith laughed dryly on got up on her feet, wobbling a bit. "You think you’ve won?" she asked him, "But you haven’t . . . " She pulled out a black recorder from her pocket and showed it to him.

Angelus quirked a brow. "What are you gonna do? Record me to death?" he laughed amusingly.

"All those people are sheep, just waiting to be slaughtered . . . " a voice boomed through the small gadget.

Angelus’ eyes widened.

Faith smirked and rewound it, playing it once again for him to hear. "I wonder what Buffy would say if she heard this entire conversation," Faith sang mockingly, "I know how much she hates fake people . . . how much she despises it when she's lied to and manipulated like that." She rewound it again. "I wonder what she would do when the man she loves is just a ruthless and heartless werewolf who wants nothing but power. Who used her to gain a kingdom and turn it into something evil and ruthless. Wouldn’t be good . . . now would it?" she smiled at him.

"Where . . . "

"I overheard you and Gunn talking," she explained with a shrug.

"She won’t believe you," Angelus swallowed.

If Buffy heard that . . . she might start doubting him . . . she might even leave him. And that wouldn’t do good. Not for him or . . . their relationship.

"She wouldn’t . . . would she?" Faith chuckled. "I believe that’s your voice and Gunn’s. What’s not to believe?" She closed in on him and whispered in his ear, "Plus, I can be VERY convincing when it comes to Virgin Mary. If I told her that the only way to save to the pack is to jump off the cliff, she would do it with no questions. If I tell her that you've been dragging her around by the tits like a bitch in heat to just gain power to destroy the world," Faith chuckled, "She'll believe it in a heartbeat." She gazed down at him and bit her lip seductively, "You know why? . . . Because beneath all the love she has for you lies doubt, and I can't wait to play on that."

"What do you want Faith?" Angelus growled.

He was not going to loose Buffy . . . not when he just got her . . . and definitely not when they were finally at this point where they were engaged and planning on what type of flowers and cake they were going to have for the wedding. Not when everything was just so perfect.

The brunette pressed stop and looked at Angelus’ stricken face.

She smiled.

"I want you," she answered truthfully as she walked towards him, looking down at his handsome face as she pressed one knee between his and spread his legs.

Angelus made a grab for the recorder, opened it quickly and smashed the small tape within his hand.

Faith laughed and placed herself on top of him, wrapping her arms around his neck. "I’m not that stupid, Angelus," she whispered in his ear, "I have a box full of them," she informed him.

Angelus swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat.

This wasn’t happening.

Think of something, you idiot! he mentally yelled at himself.

"So . . . I was think . . . " Faith said grinding herself down on his lap.

"Oh my God . . . "

Both of them looked up to find Buffy standing outside the study room, a trembling hand against her mouth as she stared at them in disbelief.

Angelus quickly pushed Faith off from his lap and stared at Buffy’s bewildered blue eyes, tears ready to fall.

"Buffy," he breathed. Oh God . . . "I can . . . "

She shook her head and let out a pitiful sob and quickly ran down the hall, her heart breaking into a million pieces at her feet.

She ran down the steps of the mansion, eliciting a small yelp from Wesley as he dropped his book to the ground.

Kendra and Xander, who sat at the end of the stairs playing rock, paper, scissors, stared at her shaking form as she disappeared outside and into the night where the only sounds were the crickets chirping.

But in Buffy’s mind, all she could see was Faith on top of Angelus, breathing in his ear. She only knew of Angelus surprised, but yet comfortable look as she ground herself down onto him like a slut she truly was.

She though he was different . . . but obviously marriage was different in his vocabulary. He still saw her as some innocent child who wouldn’t be able to keep up with him.

Well Fine! If he wanted Faith . . . then let him have her! If the bitch made him happy, happier than she made him . . . then FINE!

She was so deep in thought, so lost in her pain that she didn’t even notice the gun that was aimed straight at her . . . or the soft sound of it going off.

All that was going through her mind as she fell on the ground with a thud and as the tears continued to spill from her eyes was . . . "Angel . . . why?"

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Chapter Twenty-Eight: The Capture

Buffy groaned, her head throbbing as though an entire African clan with their beating drums were celebrating the new moon in her aching head. Blue eyes fluttered open as the young woman gazed around her surroundings through blurry vision.

Everything around her was just white. Bright and extreme. Buffy blinked, and for a brief second, she thought that this may be heaven . . . until the throbbing inside her head intensified and told her otherwise.

"Oh, God," she muttered, pressing her wrist against her forehead as she slowly sat up and ignored the overwhelming dizziness that threatened to consume her. "Anyone catch the number on that truck?" she tried to joke in a whisper, but when she tried to smile it off, the pain seemed to increase inside her skull.

A low chuckle brought her out of her haze as she finally gazed up into a pair of blue eyes. She squinted at the bright light that shone down on her above his head. Her vision soon cleared afterwards as studied the tall man with blond hair smiling at her like a Cheshire Cat who had just found a long lost treasure.

"There was no number actually," he answered, his smile turning into an impish smirk that if she didn‘t feel as though an anvil had dropped on her would‘ve smacked it right off his face.

Wait . . . that sounded like the action to take.

She got up on her feet, instincts taking over as she lunged towards him. She instinctively knew of the danger he possessed and the will to inflict hurt upon him so she could escape. But an invisible blockade prevented her from doing so, and she finally noticed the glass that held her within her sanitary cage made of white tiles. She placed flat palms against the glass and gazed around, finding other cells with lone figures huddled in the corner or pacing endlessly.

They glanced at her for only a moment, but what she saw in their eyes were easy to read and surely unmistakable. It was fear in those eyes . . . as well as admission of defeat.

Buffy frowned.

"You must be wondering where you are," the man said, dressed in a khaki green sweater and pants.

"The Initiative," Buffy answered quietly, staring at him with suspicion.

He looked surprised and quirked an eyebrow. "And you know."

"Of course. I was there," she replied, anger in her eyes, "The first time you attacked us."

"Well," he smiled wickedly as a strand of blond hair fell in front of his eyes, "I didn’t have the chance to be there. Sadly, I was here, in the compound . . . awaiting your arrival."

"But we didn’t arrive," Buffy answered back defiantly as she unconsciously lifted up her chin in show of pride and superiority.

"Don’t be so smug," he grinned, "We caught you in the end after all."

Buffy glared at him in return through the glass that blocked her from throttling him.

"I see that Sleeping Beauty finally woke up," another voice added.

Buffy glanced up and found two other men joining their conversation with haughty expressions.

"Riley," a handsome black man with a bald head greeted. She remembered him from the attack. Forest was his name. "A meeting with Professor Walsh and the other doctors in half an hour," he told his colleague.

Riley nodded in understanding.

"She’s a pretty one," another man commented before three pairs of eyes raked over her form.

Buffy unconsciously took a step back as they continued to undress her with heated and perverted eyes.

"I wonder if that’s her only attribute," Riley added before chuckling.

"I look at you and wonder if you have any attributes at all," Buffy snapped without thinking.

Riley frowned, his lust glazed eyes turning cold. "If you weren’t so important to Walsh, I would’ve opened this cell door and taken you against your will for your utter disrespect," he angrily said through clenched teeth.

"My mate would rip you to shreds," Buffy retorted back.

"You’re in *our* territory, little girl . . . not your lover’s. This is our playground. What we say goes. Your lover can‘t touch anything here . . . not even you." Riley and the others smirked. "Plus, a little bird told us that he was a bit preoccupied by that hot little brunette at this moment," he informed her.

Buffy’s face fell at the remembrance, and quickly looked away as she fought the tears.

Of course . . . how could she have forgotten.

And her heart bled even more, and she clutched a fist against her chest, afraid the pain would seep through her skin and clothes, leaving a crimson trail from her body and down on the clean white tiles of her cell.

"Don’t cry, lover . . . "

"Don’t you dare call me that!" she screamed and glared up at him before slamming her hands against the glass as she looked at him, a tear rolling down her cheeks to meet the floor.

Riley smiled. "Touchy? Aren’t we?’ he mocked. "It’s not my fault that your *mate* can’t seem to make up his mind when it comes to females."

Buffy’s chin quivered as she closed her eyes at the total truth of his words. Angelus was a man, not only of brilliance and great stature, but of sexual needs that couldn’t be easily, or simply, sated with one night . . . or one morn.

She had believed that when she came into his life, that it would change . . . but it obviously didn’t. She was like a child, not a woman that Angelus wanted and needed. Buffy was an innocent, with morals and a virtue . . . with a strong head and a clear intelligent mind. She was no seductive vixen with years of experience when it came to men. She was nothing like that . . . no wonder Angelus would turn towards Faith.

She rested her head against the glass, not caring that the three men were watching her curiously. Let them watch. Her grief was too much to ignore now. Too excruciatingly painful to pay no heed to.

Angelus didn’t love her as he had said . . . didn’t want to spend eternity with her as he had promised. What he wanted was more power . . . and a final tie to the Slayer Clan.

She had been used and manipulated by a man she thought she could trust, and this was not just by any man, but by the one she loved the most.

It seemed as though life was over.

She had given Angelus her heart, her soul, and her promise of eternity. Was it so wrong to ask for the same from him?

But it was too late now.

The emptiness was unconsciously reaching towards her. Soon, it’ll leave no room for anything else inside of her. Time could only tell how long before the emptiness reached her heart to consume it.

"Gentlemen," Walsh suddenly interrupted the silence, "Restrain the girl and bring her to the lab."

Buffy’s head snapped up to find the head honcho giving the three young men orders. She looked at Buffy and smirked at the tears. "Hello, dear," the woman greeted cheerily, "I hope you’re strong enough to survive a few tests."

Buffy stared at her long and hard. "Bring it on."

The emptiness had gradually leaked through her skin.

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Chapter Twenty-Nine: The Panic

Angelus was out of his mind.

He had raced through the woods, hoping to catch up with his mate . . . trying to search for her scent or any sign of where she had headed. But he was too frantic to concentrate, so he just ran into the woods, hoping to find her and explain . . . hoping that it wasn’t too late.

Oh god . . .

If he had ruined his relationship with Buffy . . . if he had lost her because of his stupid actions . . .

He groaned.

He continued running, past trees and fallen logs. His heart pounding angrily against his chest, punishing him for his heartache . . . as well as his mate‘s. The sound of an owl hooting in the distance reached his ears. The songs of the crickets drifted in the air, a medley of the night. The night was his home . . . he was safe in the night, but could he say the same for Buffy?

And with that thought . . . he ran faster, searching for his other half, the one who had finally made him complete. He hunted for any sign, any indication where Buffy might have been.

But Angelus found nothing . . . and he found no one.

He collapsed on the ground in utter exhaustion, his breathing labored as his lungs broke out into a surging fire that started to consume his insides. But he didn‘t seem to care. Something was wrong, he could feel it in his bones, and his physical pain didn‘t equal the ache in his soul and heart.

His eyes caught something on the ground, hiding slightly beneath a few fallen leaves.

His hand reached out . . . and found a Claddagh ring.

"Oh God . . . " he groaned in defeat before crying out his anguish into the skies. This wasn’t happening. It just couldn’t be happening. He clasped the ring in his hand . . . and for the first time in years . . . he was fearful, utterly and completely terrified.

He stumbled on his feet before racing back to the mansion hoping against all odds that Buffy would be there, waiting for him . . . ready to hear his explanation of why he broke her heart.

But Angel knew, without even searching that she wasn’t there. He knew it deep within his heart . . . because it also recognized the feeling of distance . . . that it‘s mate was gone . . . out of his reach.

And that caused him even more anguish.

"Angelus?"

"Where is she?" he growled, running frantically through the halls, peering his head in the kitchen and the dining room, the living room and the game room. It was pointless. She wasn’t here, damnit!

"Where’s who?" Joyce asked worriedly after watching Angelus face blaze in utter panic and horror.

Angelus collapsed to the floor in front of the staircase, staring in space as everything inside him . . . all his strength and will dulling into utter grief and torment. He had betrayed her, not in the sense that he actually did, but the picture of Faith on top of him . . . he had betrayed her. And he didn’t even had the chance to explain . . . of his fear of what Faith held in her hands . . . the proof that would have torn Buffy away from him.

He laughed bitterly, the tone hollow and frenzied. A stupid tape that voiced out his harshness. Buffy was too pure and innocent to hear those words . . . especially when it came from him. It would have frightened her. But it was still ironic to know that she didn’t have to listen to the tape for her to turn away from him . . . just the position she had had found him with Faith was enough. And it had meant nothing . . . not as she did.

"Oh God . . . " he shouted, his voice of agony and tremendous grief.

"Angelus," Joyce said in horror, kneeling before the broken man as she took his face between her hands. "What’s wrong? What happened?"

"Buffy . . . "

Joyce’s face contorted in pain as she stared at him in shock. " What happened to Buffy?"

"Nothing that was my fault," he answered truthfully, shaking his head. "She’s been taken," he said, glancing up at her with tearful eyes.

Joyce’s worry increased. "Angelus . . . "

"What’s happening?" Willow asked with a frown as members of the pack gathered around them.

"They took her," he said, the ring in his hand clattering to the floor . . . the soft clattering of the small metal the only sound that echoed as everyone fell into a shocked silence.

"No . . . " Spike rumbled, pushing his way through the crowd.

He grabbed Angelus by the lapels of his jacket and dragged him up. "You’re lying!" he screamed at him.

"I’m not . . . " Angelus said in defeated.

"We’ll find her," Faith spoke, surprising everyone as they turned towards her. She looked surprised herself and shrugged in response before blending in the crowd as the entire pack went into an uproar.

Angelus looked at her as she gazed around, a hint of mischief in her eyes. His body surged with unknown power and he threw Spike off of him, causing the younger male to clatter against the stair railings. Everyone grew deathly quiet once again as their fear heightened. He pushed his way towards the brunette and she looked up at him with forced innocence, but he knew how untrue that was.

"Where is she?" he growled.

She looked astonished, but carelessly shrugged her indifference. "Out probably."

Angelus grabbed her by the throat and shoved her against the far wall, causing everyone to gasp, staring at them in horror.

"I’m gonna ask again," he said through clenched teeth, "Where. Is. She?"

"I don’t know!" she choked.

"Don’t lie to me!" he yelled angrily.

"I don’t know!" she insisted.

He roared his anger, his voice echoing against the walls of the mansion, and in a flash of white light, his eyes glowed as he stared at Faith in total madness. "I’m gonna ask you again, and you will answer truthfully, Faith . . . Where. Is. She?!" he yelled.

"The Initiative!" she finally yelled, fear running through her veins at the frightening power he was consumed by and was furiously radiating.

Angelus growled in rage and threw her to the marble floor, staring down at her with a deeply infuriated gaze in his eyes that blazed with fire. "What did you do?!"

"Nothing," Faith replied, her voice shaking a bit.

"Don’t you fucking lie to me!" he bent over and straddled her, forcing her hands together above her head. If this was a different situation, Faith would have enjoyed it . . . but all she felt was alarm.

"I don’t care what, how, and why you did what you did," he offered, his eyes still glowing eerily, "But you led the mate of the leader of the clan into the hands of murderers," he stated, tightening his grip on her wrists. She quietly cried out from the pain, fearing her bones would break from the utter pressure he was forcing upon her. "That’s a crime in both the human world and our world. And I swear to God, Faith, if she dies . . . so will you," he ended in a harsh whisper.

He stood up, jerking her wrist away, and glared at the others. She stared up at him in a daze, swallowing back the tears of dread. Her body was shaking, and she couldn‘t get a word out.

The power of the Mackenzie Clan as well as the Slayer clan had combined in that one instant. And he was grateful, for the force had known that Faith was the perpetrator. And Angelus had felt it.

"I want her put in the basement. In one of the cells," he said, the energy he was devoured by still strong in his blood.

Alex, Xander, and a few other males quickly obeyed. And the rest of the pack watched as Faith was dragged down to the basement, stunned and angry.

"You can’t do this to me!" she began yelling, struggling in the men’s hold on her.

Angelus just stared at her with indifference. The bitch would pay. If Buffy was harmed because of her petty jealousy and bitterness . . .

"No one is to go down there and talk to her," Angelus growled, trying to keep his voice calm, "She is not to be fed or let to bathe," he said, staring at each one of the clan members as he gave out his orders, "Let this be a lesson to all of you. I do not tolerate actions such as this. I take care of all of you . . . but to me, my mate is my entire world followed by this pack. And to who ever brings danger to anyone in our clan will suffer the consequences . . . as well as my wrath. No mercy shall be spared."

The room was silent.

"Faith’s trial will be the day right after we get Buffy back," he stated, his fists clenched into balls by his side, "Until then, we search for her . . . and no one sleeps or rests until she is found. I want Buffy located, or there’s gonna be hell to pay."

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Buffy had been prodded, tested, forced down on a cold sterile bed, wired, and prodded some more. Her patience was being tested and she was ready to kill someone. Especially if it was this Professor Bitch or Finn who kept ogling her.

She wanted to go home, to be with her friends and family . . . and of course Angel. But that wasn’t going to happen.

Because first off, Angelus had betrayed her . . . had told her lies . . . It was a hard pill to swallow, the fact that she had carelessly fell in love with a man who she knew would never love her in return. And that hurt more than it should.

"I hope you’re not thinking of trying to escape," Walsh commented.

Buffy looked up at her and smiled sarcastically. "Why would I?" she asked sarcastically, "When I’m enjoying myself oh, so much."

"You keep up with that attitude of yours, my dear," Walsh grinned impishly, "And you’ll wish we were finally done with you . . . That, or just end your obvious misery."

"Touche, bitch," Buffy smirked. "But I’m not about to give in with just a few pricks of needles and tape plastered on my forehead and arms."

"That’s where you’re mistaken, dear," she smirked back, "We’ve just begun."

"Is this supposed to scare me?"

"No . . . this should terrify you into a quivering mass of flesh."

Buffy grinned. "When my pack finds me, you’re the one who will be left terrified. And there will be no quivering mass of flesh either . . . because all that will be left of you . . . are bones."

Walsh stuck another needle in her arm in reply.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter Thirty: The Fight

Angelus stared at the screen, ignoring his favorite screen saver with the red glowing eyes of wolves and the distant sound of their howls emitting from the machine. It used to be able to comfort him and make him smile, but not at this moment . . . not when Buffy was in the Initiative’s hands.

He closed his eyes, resting his forehead against his clasped hands as though he was in prayer . . . as though a prayer could help him now. He could still remember Alana with clarity . . . the torture she had gone through, the pain she had to have suffered through in cruel hands . . .

He had to find Buffy now!

He could still picture the ultimate grief in her crystalline blue eyes when she came through the door, tears glistening in her beautiful azure orbs. But the slash of pain that came across her face hit the mark in his heart.

Would she able to forgive him? Would she even let him explain? Would he be able to forgive HIMSELF if she didn‘t? So many questions running through his mind, and there was only one person who would be able to answer all of them. But she wasn’t here, she was somewhere in Sunnydale, probably petrified and alone . . .

Buffy had never been away from her clan, Angelus knew that. This would break her, traumatize her . . . and she would blame him for it. But he wouldn’t be able to hold that against her.

His heart was in pieces. He didn’t know what to do. Everyone in the pack were doing their best, but here he was, just sitting in his study room, staring at his computer screen as though it would give him the answers he needed.

For the first time in Angelus’ life, Angelus had no real answer. Because either way . . . he would lose her. And he couldn’t have that, not when he had finally tasted the happiness and the bliss when he was with her . . . not when he had just found her and gained her trust.

But that was gone . . . his chance had gone down the drain. But he couldn’t let that happen. He’ll do everything to win her back. Anything and everything.

"You know, for a leader, you really do suck," a voice interrupted his self flagellation.

"Leave," Angelus ordered simply.

"No," Spike answered back, walking further into the study room, his eyes fixed on Angelus’ depressed expression.

The leader of the pack was ready to kill him.

"I wanted to warn her, you know," Spike smirked cynically, moving further in the room, "But her happiness fogged my sight . . . and I was lost within her bliss . . . "

"Spare me your poetic talk, Bleached Wonder," Angelus sneered, "And while you’re at it, why don’t you get out?"

Spike glared at him in return. "Don’t get so cocky," he replied, "Because of that, Buffy is gone . . . "

Angelus clenched his jaws. "What do you want, Spike," he demanded.

"Nothing," he answered fiercely, blue eyes burning with intensity, "Just came here to warn you . . . "

"Warn me?" Angelus chuckled coldly.

Spike became even more infuriated as he slammed his palms against his desk and glared at him with cold eyed. "If something happens to her, I’ll hack off your bloody cock and make you eat it," he said through clenched teeth.

"I’d like to see you try," Angelus snapped back.

Spike threw a punch, but Angelus caught it easily as he twisted the younger man’s arm, causing the blond to fight back the cry of pain shooting up his arms. "Don’t try and screw with me, Spike," Angelus told him, "I can kill you this second . . . "

"You wouldn’t bloody try," Spike replied, his voice as bit shaky as sweat beaded his forehead as he ignored the pain, " ‘Cause we all know that Buffy will hate you even more."

Angelus growled and threw him to the ground. "Get out, Spike!" he yelled.

The blond chuckled on the floor, rolling on the rug as he clutched at his stomach with his bruised arm. "Can’t handle the truth, Peaches?" he laughed.

Angelus stepped over to him, grabbing him by his shirt and throwing him against the floor. "Fuck you!"

The British man just laughed. "You have nothing to say," he said, " ‘Cause you know I’m bloody right, ya big poof."

"Shut up," Angelus said warningly.

"No," he replied fiercely.

Angelus punched him again. "You will fuck off, Spike!"

"No."

Another punch.

"Angelus!" Joyce pulled the older man off of Spike and pushed them apart. "Stop this nonsense, now! We’ll never get anything done to find her if you two keep going at it like a bunch of primal males. What would Buffy say?"

The two men became silent and backed away from each other.

"One more word out of you, Spike, and I swear to God, I won’t hesitate to see you dead," Angelus stated firmly.

"Whatever you say, Peaches," Spike challenged in return, sneering at the alpha male," Whatever you say," he repeated before turning and leaving the study room in a few strides.

Joyce sighed and looked at Angelus as he moved towards one of the windows, gazing out into the night. Tears welled up in his brown eyes as he raked a trembling hand in his hair. And Joyce‘s heart fell. She could only imagine what he must be going through.

"I don’t know what to do, Joyce," he told her truthfully.

"You can start by acting your age," she said softly, but firmly as she stared at his back. "We need you even more, and we need your head on your shoulders . . . we need our leader. Understand?"

Angelus turned and nodded. "It was stupid, I know. But the truth in his words . . . " he sighed.

"Don’t listen to him," Joyce said straightforwardly, "All there is to do now is to find her and save her. That’s the most important thing right now . . . But if you continue brooding in here . . . then we’ll never get anywhere."

Angelus just nodded.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

The whip slashed across her back and she cried out in pain. A moment later, the wound healed, sealing the broken skin, not even leaving a scar. But the pain was still there, her back numb from the slashes she had received for the past half hour.

Her healing abilities were being tested. She wasn’t sure if they only did this because of their study, or if they were receiving some sick pleasure from it as well.

"Seven point three second," Finn announced.

"She’s powerful," Walsh nodded, "How many whips have we inflicted upon her?" she asked Forest who was keeping the tally.

"We’re down to eighty-nine," he answered.

"We’ll keep going ‘til we reach one-hundred," Walsh smirked. "None of our alpha females had ever survived this long. They were bleeding by the sixtieth slash."

"She’s a tough little bitch," Riley commented snidely, "Aren’t you, lover?"

Buffy gritted her teeth, but did not reply. Again with the ‘Lover.‘ How many times did she have to tell him not to call her that?

She gave out a hoarse cry when the leather whipped her back for the nintieth time.

She was ready to die and just end this misery.

But before she could be hit again, Graham came bounding inside the torture chamber, breathless and wide eyed with papers in his hand.

"What is it?" Walsh snapped.

"You should come take a look at this," he said and handed the papers to the professor, who skimmed through the data in her hands.

Buffy let out a deep breath, glad that was able to take a small break.

"I don’t understand," Graham said, "I don’t know how it came out positive. Shouldn‘t it be too early to know for sure?"

"A werewolf’s body is different than a human’s," Walsh answered nonchalantly, "They develop rather quickly to form both their human and their extra werewolf features."

"But it’s already a two month old fetus," Graham objected.

Buffy’s head lifted as she tried to look behind her.

Fetus? Did that mean . . .

"As I said," Walsh said, handing the papers back to the young man, "It’s a natural occurrence."

Graham nodded and quickly left, sharing uneasy looks with Riley and Forest. If the young woman was pregnant . . . then maybe they should let her go. But they kept quiet, knowing full well of the punishment they could receive if they questioned Walsh’s authority.

Buffy stared at the woman with the clean and neat-as-a-pin white lab coat. The older woman smirked at the young blonde. "I think a congratulation is in order, Miss Summers-Giles," she grinned, "Give her twenty more whips."

Buffy shook her head and screamed as the whip came ripping across her back. She cringe and closed her eyes tightly.

A baby.

A sudden motherly instinct surged through her, and she began to struggle within the straps that held her against the wall. She had to get out of there . . . for the survival of herself . . . as well as her unborn child.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter Thirty-One: The Savior

The search spell was cast, and it became much more easier to track down the Initiative base within the many tunnels and complexes underneath Sunnydale. The pack worked the entire afternoon and night, working on a plan as they studied the perimeter of the headquarters on the computer files of the Initiative that Willow hacked into.

They were all tired and weary, but the thought of their alpha female in danger drove them further into research and preparation. They all needed their rest, but relaxation was out of the question and in the very back of their minds at the moment.

Angelus, most of all, needed the most rest. It was written in his blood shot eyes and his posture. But whenever one of them suggested that he took a small break, his eyes would harden with pain and continue on with his work, driving himself even harder to find Buffy. The clan members had given up on him. He wouldn’t listen to any one of them, and they could try no longer.

“We kill everyone,” he announced nonchalantly.

Everyone stared at him in utter shock. “You can’t be serious, Angelus,” Joyce said worriedly. “We’ve never killed anyone in our lives.”

“Then you should get used to the idea,” the pack leader growled.

Her frown deepened. “Angelus . . . “

“I know you have your morals,” he interrupted her, “But this is a group of humans who kidnap our kind for the sake of science . . . as though we are nothing but sheep or cattle. We’re a different race, ladies and gentlemen. A race far more sophisticated than them . . . and let’s prove it.”

“But Angelus . . . “

“Please, Joyce,” he said, quickly looking away from the older woman to hide the fierce determination on his face, “I’ve let them off the hook once . . . and now they’ve taken Buffy . . . and I can’t let that go.”

Joyce sighed and stared at the faces of her fellow pack members. It was futile to change Angelus’ mind now. Especially when he was so set on saving Buffy and having his revenge upon all those who took part in her capture, and possibly her harm . . . His love for her and his anger towards the Initiative clouded his judgment and fogged his views, and because of that, he was merciless.

They all had the right to question him and fight his wishes by challenging his authority, but she could tell that everyone was too afraid to disagree with the man very close to reaching madness. Only a single thread kept him sane and balanced, and they weren’t sure what would break that one single string. And by doing that, cause more than just the Initiative’s death, but theirs as well.

Angelus saw the hesitation in their eyes and sighed. “I know this goes against your values and your unwritten law,” he began, “But these people are dangerous . . . they will come back ten times bigger, ten times more advanced. It’s best to get rid of them now, before it’s too late.”

They finally agreed in their silence.

“Let’s get this over and done with,” Angelus said as he eyed everyone in the study room with a hard glare that chilled everyone to their bones. “It’ll be morning in a few hours, and I want Buffy home before dawn.”

They left the mansion together in an eerie silence. They were stocked with supplies, spell books, weapons, and even bombs. The only members remaining were Anya and Adia, stayed to watch the small children, with only a protective barrier surrounding the mansion as their safety precaution.

The group slowly made their way towards UC Sunnydale within the protection the darkness the night offered willingly to them. They ran swiftly through the cover of the woods, looking like a band of hunters chasing their prey. They looked wild and animalistic as their hearts pounded against their chest in a rhythm that they could only hear.

The air smelled thick, felt heavy on their shoulders bare of anything except their clothes. Something unfamiliar hung around them, embracing their nerves in confines . . . and at that moment, they knew that they were being protected by their ancestors as their blood sung the song of the wolves.

They quickly split up when they came upon the frat house of the Initiative soldiers, surrounding the area and blocking each entrance and exit that was available.

Angelus moved slowly down the tunnels, cell phone at hand to give the signal to each of the pack members awaiting it. He could feel her near, and he wanted to cry out in joy and run after her and take her in his arms, forever holding her. But he had to be patient, for everyone’s sake as well as hers.

“On three . . . “ he whispered on the cell as he came to the main entrance of the private facility, “One, two, three,” he growled.

A loud bomb exploded in the distance, rumbling and making the ground quake with vibrations, the sound of an alarm followed next, and all hell soon broke loose. Angelus hid in the darkness as a group of soldiers ran out of the doors with guns in their hands, their feet pounding against the cement floor. He snuck inside the base with no problems as he looked around at the chaos that had consumed the Initiative.

“Camera one, disabled,” he heard Willow say, and with that, Angelus quickly marched down the stairs and hid behind a stack of empty barrels, watching silently as doctors and even more soldiers ran across his line of vision.

“Camera two and three . . . disabled,” Willow’s voice continued a moment later, and he was soon trudging down a sterile hall.

“There’s another camera coming up. It’ll try and identify you with a quick scan,” Willow said into his earpiece, “Give me a few minutes to find a ‘still’ of Walsh in the past few hours from the camera recordings.”

Angelus studied the camera in reply, the blinking red light momentarily stopping for a few seconds. He suddenly heard the loud gun shots outside the hall and quickly looked just in time to see an Initiative soldier fly against the window, blood smearing the glass with a red stain. He cringed at the sight and sharply turned away.

Only death was the punishment for the crime of taking his mate. He could not forgive the worry nor the heartache he went through in the past twenty-four hours . . . never.

“You’re ready to go,” Willow said, just as the sliding doors opened to reveal a maze of halls filled with rows and rows of individual cells, each containing starving, weak, and half dead werewolves, either in their human form, wolf form, or in between. It was a sickening sight, and another proof that these people were the monsters.

A little girl was huddled closely against her cell, a simple stuffed rabbit squeezed tightly in her small tiny arms as she stared at him with large innocent blue eyes. Once again, he was reminded of Buffy . . . he smashed the glass into pieces, causing the child to scream in the top of her lungs from the fright of the mad man.

“Angelus? What was that?” Willow asked worriedly.

“It’s okay,” he said softly to the small girl, “I’m sorry about that,” he tried to smile as he reached out a hand towards her. “You’ll be fine,” he assured her.

She stared at him with fear and then gazed at his outstretched hand before slowly bringing up her own and linking her tiny ones with his large ones. “Who’s closest to where I am, Willow?” he asked.

“Spike.”

“Bring him in and a few others. We have more than fifty prisoners in here. I want them all out before we blow this place apart,” he told her.

“Got it,” she replied.

He smiled back down at the small and helpless child. “What’s your name?” he asked with a friendly smile, trying hard to keep the young girl at ease.

“Dawn,” she answered in a whisper.

“Dawn,” Angelus repeated as she gazed at the child, “That’s a pretty name.”

She blinked. “What your name?” she asked curiously, tilting her head slightly to the side.

“Angel,” was his reply.

“Angel?” she shook her head, her light brown hair fanning around her, “No . . . THAT’S a pretty name,” she cleared.

He chuckled lightly and carried her out of the cell so she didn’t have to step on the thick broken pieces of glass that littered the floor. He placed her on the floor just as Spike came sauntering in, his breathing labored as his blue eyes came upon the two of them.

“Cordelia, Oz, and Joyce are coming in,” he said.

Angelus nodded and looked at Dawn. “See that man there?” he asked her.

She nodded as she shyly looked up at Spike. The bleach blond winked at her, causing the little girl to blush and quickly look back at Angelus. “He’ll take care of you until I get back, alright?”

She nodded mutely and walked towards Spike, her cheeks still tinted pink. “Willow,” Angelus said as he looked around, “Where do I go from here?”

“You take the left hall and keep going straight. There’s a room at the very end . . . That’s where she’ll be,” the redhead answered, “I just have to warn you . . . about something . . . first,” she said, stopping him on his tracks.

“What is it?” he asked impatiently.

“You won’t like what you see.”

With a deep growl Angelus sprinted across the white floor, his heart rate speeding up as his head screamed and his soul cried. If anything happened to Buffy . . . He come upon the door within seconds, and smashed it open with a hard kick, the metal crushing from the strength of his blow.

Three pairs of eyes met his enraged ones. He didn’t have to think twice as he grabbed his simple and favored crossbow and shot the man with the black leather whip. He went down with a cry, collapsing on the floor with a thud as he stained the clean white tiles with deep crimson blood.

“Seize him,” the woman he had seen weeks ago ordered a rather tall and lanky young man with dirty blond hair and dark blue eyes.

It took a moment for the him to comprehend what she had just barked at him, but soon dropped his metal clipboard and reached for a gun. Angelus shot him in the shoulder before he could grab it, causing him to fall on his knees with a whimper.

His eyes came quickly upon the woman strapped against the wall, her bare back, although healed, was literally glowing red from the amount of energy it took to for her to mend the obvious slashes that had been inflicted upon her sweet and delicate flesh.

“Buffy . . . “ he chocked as he watched her shoulder shake from the sobs she was trying to hide.

From the moment he had burst into the room, Buffy had known that she had just been saved . . . and was finally secure and protected because of his presence. Repressed emotions for the past twenty-four hours ultimately took its toll on her, causing a breakdown as she lost her grip on her feelings.

She was tired, and the fear she had been keeping at bay was overwhelming, almost choking her as she tried to calm herself down. It didn’t work, and she continued to bawl even more when she heard him say her name so softly . . . so lovingly.

Before Angelus could take a step towards Buffy, the Professor Bitch stopped him mid-stride, glaring at him with cold blue eyes.

“What do you think you're doing here?” she demanded haughtily.

Angelus growled and grabbed her by the neck and lifting her in the air as his eyes glowed gold with power. This woman had taken his mate, had kidnapped her and tortured her . . . and he was not going to forgive that.

“You’re lucky I’m gonna give you a quick and less painful death, bitch,” he sneered through clenched teeth.

The woman choked and gagged as she tried to claw at his hand, leaving red trails on his flesh. But the small pain didn’t bother him as it quickly healed itself into nothing.

“Take a good look at what you will be dying for,” he roared softly as he turned her head around so she could gaze at the trembling body of Buffy, “Because she’ll be the last thing you’ll see before you go to hell,” he added huskily before quickly snapping her neck, the disgusting sound echoing against the sterile walls of the room.

He dropped her limp body to the ground and was by Buffy’s side in moments. He gulped the lump that formed in his throat as he undid the straps around her wrists and ankles, trying not to cry as tears poured down from her face in endless streams.

“You should’ve just left me,” she sobbed brokenly, causing his chest to constrict in pain.

“Don‘t,” he shook his head, forcing her to look at him, “I love you,” he told her.

But she said nothing in reply as she wilted in his arms, completely unconscious from the traumatic events that filled her entire day. He scooped her up, gently enfolding her within his embrace as he silently chanted a prayer to the Goddess Moon for her blessings.

He kissed Buffy’s forehead and headed towards the door, aiming his crossbow at Riley’s writhing form. The cry of pain and the silence that followed affirmed the soldier’s well-deserved death.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter Thirty-Two: The Heartache

Faith sat huddled against the steel bars that restrained her within her little cell. It smelled like rotting eggs and a hundred year old pile of trash in the dungeon. Yes. A dungeon . . . who would’ve thought that there would actually be a dungeon in a French styled mansion?

She was hungry and tired . . . but most of all, she was lonely. She had torn her last remaining bonds and connections with her pack members by, not only betraying Buffy, but betraying them all as well. Whatever happened to one member of the pack, happened to everyone . . . they were all effected by it one way or another.

She had been a fool to lead the mate of the leader of the clan to the hands of the Initiative. It had been a stupid move . . . a careless one. She could’ve just been capture and shut up about it since the entire pack would’ve came to her rescue no matter how much they all despised her. It was an unwritten rule . . . a pull on each of the members to save one of their own . . . whoever that may be.

It was dark in the dungeon . . . and the smell seemed to reek and strengthen within every second she was in there.

And for the first time since she had lost her parents, she cried . . . after years of keeping up with her tough persona, she finally broke down and cried. But it wasn’t going to help her when it came to her trial, tears would not gain her sympathy from the pack members who would be the judges . . . and in the end, they would either be her saviors . . . or her murderers.

Why and how she believed she was able to get away with putting Buffy in danger, she’ll probably never know . . . but she had just now realized how stupid it was to do. The Moon Goddess and the Shadow King blessed only those who deserved it . . . and Faith was not the type who earned the right to be deserving at all . . . Plus, It was too late for a lesson.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Members of the pack who had returned to the mansion early, breathed a sigh of relief as Angelus and the rest of their clan entered the mansion doors. They were all more than a little beaten up, tired, yet relieved that it was finally over. Their glowing red wounds that had been quickly healed was prominent all over their body, and they were lucky that it‘ll never leave any scars.

The only scars they would have to worry about were the mental ones . . . but in time, those would heal as well, and help them all grow even stronger from the lesson of this time gone horrifically wrong.

But it was a bigger relief to see Buffy safe and sound, wrapped safely in Angelus’ favored leather jacket. He held her closely, pressing her body firmly but gently against his warm hard chest. His face remained blank and stoic, not giving off any sort of expression or mental thoughts as he trudged silently up the stairs.

He said not one word to any of them as he carried Buffy to their bedroom. The girls quickly shared a look and followed the silent werewolf up to the East Wing, knowing that he‘ll need their help.

“Get some hot water, towels, bandages, and anything else that should be needed,” Joyce listed to Kendra, “Tell Jenny to cook some soup and bring some water up here. Anya, go help her,” she ordered quietly, as if to not jolt Angelus in his dream-like trance.

The clan looked on in silence, watching as they disappeared down the hall. They couldn’t really do anything now except hope for the best, and start reorganizing so Angelus didn‘t have to go through more stress trying to get everyone back on their feet. It‘s the least they could do for their leader.

“I’m checking up on Faith,” Spike announced.

“You know the orders,” Xander told him, “We are not to go down there.”

“Well that just too bad, now isn't it?” Spike glared at him before stalking away.

He made a quick stop to the kitchen where Jenny was already preparing the soup for Buffy. She eyed him with question as he took a bowl and poured some of the broth in it, spilling a few drops on the counter. He then grabbed some bread and a bottled water before heading down to the dungeons, all the time not bothering to explain himself.

It was dark, and the odor of rotting rats and God-knew what else was strong and gagging. He grabbed the lamp that sat quietly at the end of the stairs and held it up above his head to search for the brunette.

“What do you want?” demanded a voice in the very first cell.

Spike rolled his eyes and made his way towards it. “Came to see your new digs,” he smirked, “Not really much of difference from your real room upstairs, with those painted black walls, and the stink of sex quite heavy in the air.”

“Fuck you,” she muttered.

“Whatever, pet,” he sighed and handed her the food he had brought down with him, hoping it would compensate for his harsh words.

She eyed it wearily before looking at him with suspicion. “What? You really think I’m going to poison you or something?” he scoffed, “Please. You’ve got to bloody well give me more credit than that.”

She stared at him for a moment longer before asking, “Why?”

Spike stared back at her, noting how her eyes looked so bleak and helpless. “I know we haven’t exactly treated you like a real family during the years you’ve been in the clan. You‘ve always been the loner when everyone else had another they can call their friend and their blood,” he looked away when a slash of pain crossed her face from the truth in his words, “I guess . . . what I‘m trying to say is, we‘ve also made our own mistakes when it came to you.”

He took a deep breath and let it out a few seconds later. “We’ve done you wrong, pet . . . but we had always kept part ourselves open to you, yet you never took the chance,” he continued on, “Buffy, most of all, had tried to keep you close than any of us had ever dared to bloody try . . . “

Faith was silent and she twirled the bottle of water in her hands. “How is she?” she asked quietly.

“A bit on the unconscious side, but the chit will be on her feet in no time,” Spike said, pride in his tone. “I should go,” he sighed, “Not supposed to be down here. See you tomorrow then, Faith.”

“Spike,” she called.

“What?”

“Will I get your vote tomorrow . . . in the trial?” she asked softly, a bit of hope in her voice.

“No,” he answered simply, causing her to bite her lower lip to keep from crying out. “I came down here to give you a bit of sympathy . . . but not my forgiveness,” he said, his back towards her, “You still led the pack into danger, Buffy practically died as well . . . and THAT, Faith, is unforgivable.”

* * * * * * * * * * * *

A moan from the bed jolted Angelus out of his inner thoughts and beatings as he came bounding across the room in three quick strides. All the women in the room looked up from what they were doing in time to see Buffy tilt her head to the side as she forced her eyed to flutter open.

“Buffy?” Angelus asked as he settled himself by the bed and held her small hand in his.

She groaned again as she tried to open her eyes, ignoring the throbbing pain in her head. But she fought off the overwhelming dizziness that threatened to consume her.

“Take it easy,” Angelus tried to soothe her as she battled her way to complete consciousness.

“Angel?” she asked in a whisper as her eyes finally opened, and was met with his dark brown eyes.

He smiled slightly and held her hand a bit tighter. “I’m right here,” he told her.

Buffy shook her head and tried to pull her hand away from his grasp. “No,” she said shakily, “Don’t touch me.”

Angelus’ heart dropped down to the floor in a bloody mess of utter grief as he watched her with hurt and shock in his eyes. This just couldn’t be happening. She didn‘t mean that. “Buffy . . . “

“Don’t,” she stopped him before pulling her hand away completely from his grip. “I don’t want to hear it,” she said, tears threatening to spill from her eyes.

She was so wounded, her heart damaged badly from seeing him with Faith . . . from not knowing if he would still want her, especially with the upcoming news of bringing a new cub to the clan. Would he be able to love her . . . as well as their unborn child? And truly mean it? She was so uncertain of everything, so unsure of the future . . . of THEIR future.

And it felt as though she was back to that fateful day when her father died, the complete vagueness of what the future held, the pain of loss upon her back. She didn’t know what to do, but she knew one thing, she didn’t want to be near Angel at the moment.

“Buffy . . . “ Angelus tried again, but couldn’t when she closed her eyes in pain. He wanted to explain himself, to inform her what Faith did, to tell her how much he loved her, and to assure her that everything would be okay.

“Don’t.”

“Buffy . . . Please,” he said, “I’m sorry,” he pleaded.

She stared at him in silence before looking away, curling on her side as she turned away from him. “I’m tired, Angelus . . . “ she told him firmly as he winced at the name and how it sounded coming from her tone of voice, “Please . . . just go . . . “

He sat there, stunned as he looked around the room at the faces that stared at him in sympathy. No . . . she just couldn’t push him away like that. They belonged together, they were going to get married.

“Buffy . . . I beg you,” he said softly.

“Angelus,” Joyce interrupted, hating the anguish and misery that her child and fiance were drowning in. “How ‘bout you let us finish here, and come back later,” she suggested.

Angelus slowly stood up from his seat on the bed as he stared down at her small and fragile form. Her eyes were closed, but he knew that she was wide awake.

“I love you, Buffy,” he said.

But silence was his only reply as he stared at the ground, his soul practically crying out in agony. He quickly left the room, knowing that if he stayed for a minute longer, he wouldn’t have left. So he walked out the door, with a heartache gripping and tearing at his insides.

Yet if he would’ve stayed a few more seconds, he could’ve heard the soft, “I love you,” Buffy whispered back to his retreating form.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter Thirty-Three: The Punishment

Judgment day arrived the following afternoon. The entire clan was in a somber mood, quiet and lost in their own world as they prepared for Faith‘s trial. They didn’t know what to expect, what it should or would feel like to punish one of their own. But one thing was for sure, this wasn’t going to be as easy as they thought.

“Faith brought it on herself,” Xander supplied.

“I still feel bad for her,” Willow mumbled, snuggling closer to Oz as they sat quietly in the gazebo outside in the gardens.

Cordelia snorted. “Feel bad?” she asked her friends with a roll of her eyes, “If you want someone to feel bad for . . . feel bad for Buffy,” she reminded them as her hand tightened around Gunn’s.

The handsome black man smiled at her with assurance, lending her his strength as well as his support.

Goddess of the Moon help him.

He really was whipped.

“I think that’s pretty much a given,” Gunn sighed.

“You have to admit though,” Oz said, looking at his girlfriend, trying to defend her pity towards Faith, “She might have took her jealousy too far . . . but what have we done to prevent that?”

“What *could* have we done?” Xander chuckled bitterly. “We tried our best to allow her within our group . . . yet all she could do was bitch and moan.”

“How would you have felt if . . . “

“Willow, please,” Cordelia interrupted. “Faith had the right to lash out at us for most of the shit we had put her through,” she said, looking at everyone with serious brown eyes, “But Buffy never deserved that from her . . . nor the clan who had taken her bitchy ass in and took care of it.”

The group was silent as their unspoken thoughts ran through their mind. They knew that their behavior towards Faith, their inner rejection towards her, was not something the brunette deserved from the very beginning since they’ve known her. But Buffy . . . the one person who had tried to make Faith included wasn’t the person she should‘ve betrayed . . . and because of that, their entire clan had been brought down into a level of much threat and danger.

“You should’ve seen Angelus this morning,” Kendra said softly as Xander hugged her closer to him. “He was an even bigger mess,“ she told everyone, “I don’t even think he slept last night.”

“He didn’t,” Xander confirmed with a shake of his head, “I heard Joyce and a few of the other women talking this morning . . . He stayed up all night with Buffy’s engagement ring in his hand . . . and just kind of staring out of space.”

“They’ll get through this,” Spike finally said as he leaned against the entrance of the gazebo and looking out into the fields of flowers with Buffy walking through them like a fairy.

“Love . . . real love . . . is not something that can just go away,” he explained with a small inaudible sigh, turning his eyes away from the beautiful picture of the blonde goddess floating among the sea of flowers, “It’ll take time . . . but in the end, they’ll both come out winners.”

“Hey guys,” a little girl, warily making her way towards the gazebo, greeted shyly.

Everyone gazed at Dawn with a smile, lifting their faces from the shadows that had marred it moments before. She was dressed in a yellow shirt and blue jeans, looking quite like a tiny angel with her straight brown hair up in two pig tails, her blue eyes wide with wonder and innocence.

She was only seven years old . . . and already she has the memories and the trauma of someone five times her age. She had watched her own mother die, and each member of her clan disappear and get tortured one by one. And yet the small child still maintained her innocence . . . her beautiful innocence.

“Hey, Dawn,” Spike greeted with a grin before hoisting her up in his arms. “What are you up to?” he asked in mock suspicion.

“Aunt Joyce told me to come get you guys,” she giggled as Spike tried to bite her small hands, “She said the trial’s about to start.”

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Angelus stared out of his study room window, gazing at Buffy who had gone against his wishes for her to stay in bed and was now in the gardens, walking through the flowers like a wood nymph . . . alone.

He should be there, by her side and holding her hand. Instead she was unaccompanied . . . and it didn’t seem right . . . didn’t look right without his large body next to her small one.

He gazed down at the engagement ring in his hand. For the entire night he had sat in his study room in the dark, twirling the small ring between his fingers and just staring at the glittering jewel that had been wrapped around Buffy‘s ring finger like a fitting embrace.

He hadn‘t slept that night . . . he couldn‘t, not when her room was right next to his . . . and not when she had just gone through hours of torture and tests in the Initiative’s hands.

“Angel?”

“How is she?” he replied instead.

“How’s who?” the voice asked in confusion.

“Buffy,” Angelus said, “How is she?”

“Fine?” Gunn shrugged with a frown. “Why don’t you just ask her yourself?”

“I can’t,” he answered simply.

“Okay, but the . . . “

“How’s Dawn?” Angelus interrupted once again, continuing to watch as Buffy kneeled by the rose bushes to gather some of the flowers for the mansion.

“Peachy for a young girl who had just been saved from a locked cell for God-knows-how-long,” Gunn replied coldly. “As I was saying . . . “

“How about the rest of the clan?”

“They’re fine. Everyone’s fine,” Gunn said with a roll of his eyes. He wasn’t his secretary, if he wanted to know, then he should go find out for himself. “But . . . “

“How about the others we saved?” Angel asked again.

“You know,” Gunn snickered with a shake of his head, “I came up here to tell you that the trial is about to begin . . . not as your personal connection to the world outside this study room,” he said before slowly turning to walk out the French doors.

“I could kill you for your insolence,” I told him with serious graveness.

Gunn smiled over his shoulder. “You wouldn’t,” he said. “Ever since Buffy . . . that ice inside you has melted.”

“Oh, yeah?” Angelus challenged, watching Buffy as she cut the roses and placed them carefully inside a basket, “Ever since you’ve met Cordelia you’ve become that Titanic guy; all sensitive like a pussy, poetic and corny. You might as well prance around in a skirt.”

“Engarde, Angelus,” Gunn said, knowing he had to take this as it went. Angelus had gone through hell for the past two . . . three days. His bitterness and harshness would only be a natural occurrence . . . especially when the woman he loved was the one in danger during these past fateful days.

“Be down stairs in ten minutes,” he informed his friend before finally leaving the room.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Angelus stared down at Faith with deadliness in his brown eyes. There was no mercy within him for those who had betrayed him, and Faith had betrayed him and the entire pack with her selfish actions . . . no matter what the reasons were. And because of that, the woman he loved wasn’t talking to him . . . and he couldn’t forgive the brunette for that . . . ever.

“You have condemned yourself with your own actions,” he said angrily through clenched teeth, “You deliberately endangered the pack . . . and led one of your own . . . MY mate . . . into the hands of murderers of our kind.”

Faith bowed her head, fighting back the tears. The entire clan surrounded her, looking down at her kneeling form as they stood or sat in one of the chairs in the living room. She couldn’t read their eyes, didn’t want to . . . because she knew she would only see disappointment and anger within them.

“You are now considered a danger to us all . . . a traitor,” Angelus continued, circling her with his hand behind him.

He was furious, there was no doubt about that . . . but there was also pain in his appearance that everyone can only conclude came from Buffy‘s refusal to attend the trial . . . thus the lack of support from the person who truly mattered to him. “How do you plead?” he growled down at her, his eyes blazing.

Faith looked up at him with a tearful gaze, but he didn’t even wince at the regret and the utter pain written clearly on her face. “Guilty,” she breathed quietly before continuing on, “My life is in your hands . . . and I will not beg for it . . . for I deserve the judgment you, and the rest of the pack, give to me,” she added honestly in a shaky voice.

“And that is nothing . . . ” Angelus whispered harshly before turning towards the others. “ . . . but your death, Faith,” he said with his back towards her. “You are to be left out in the woods in wolf form with no food, no water . . . and left to die there,” he told her coldly, “It’s what you thoroughly deserve after the hell you put US through . . . what you put ME through.”

Faith let out a strangled sob at the announcement of her punishment. She was loosing her family, the people who had brought her up since she was a babe . . . and she was going to die in their hands.

“Those who do not agree with my verdict, speak now . . . ” Angelus called out, daring anyone to challenge his penalty.

“I disagree.”

All eyes landed on Buffy’s golden form as she entered the living room and made her way towards the middle of the circle where Faith and Angelus stood.

Willow gazed at her friends with question in her eyes. She had told Buffy that about the trial, but the other girl refused to attend, telling the redhead she wanted nothing to do with it. And the quiet and shy werewolf didn’t push since Buffy would only get upset, and she shouldn’t have to considering the fact that she had gone through a torture just the night before. So to see her in the trial, defending the woman who had basically shoved her into the Initiative’s hands with a smile on her face, was more than a bit disconcerting.

Buffy stared at Angelus with fierceness as he gazed back at her with surprise and power. “I will not let you do this to her,” she confronted him with the self-confidence needed to speak so callously towards the dominant male of the clan.

“Then what is it you wish for her?” Angelus asked his goddess, trying hard to keep up his dominating pretense with his equal before him.

Buffy gazed down at Faith who didn’t bother looking up at her. Her shoulders were shaking from the quiet and muffled cries she was unsuccessfully trying to hide from everyone. “You are to be cast out,” Buffy said softly, “Banished from the clan. You are to continue on living with the knowledge of what you put your pack through, “ she locked eyes with Angelus as she continued on talking, “And to have the burden of your actions upon your shoulders for the rest of your existence.”

Faith tightly closed her eyes. She didn’t know if she should rejoice because of the fact that she was free to live . . . or cry because she’s being imprisoned in a life of complete isolation. Without the pack, without her clan, without her family . . . what was her reason?

Angelus nodded. “The Moon has called it,” he finally said.

“The Moon has called it,” came the reply from everyone.

Buffy kneeled down by Faith and lifted her face, her hands on either side of her cheeks. Brown eyes met blue before the blonde softly kissed Faith’s forehead and whispered in the brunette’s ear, “Be glad that my unborn child still lives . . . for you wouldn’t have either.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter Thirty-Four: The Facts

Buffy gazed out of her window with weary and saddened eyes, slowly rocking back and forth on an antique rocking chair that her grandmother had owned and had given to her before she had died a little over ten years ago. Tiger sat quietly on her lap, occasionally gazing up at his master with a certain gleam of worry in his large brown orbs.

It was amazing what animals could feel . . . what they can see, smell, hear, and even taste beyond human senses and abilities. They had unknown gifts that normal mortals couldn’t easily detect . . . couldn‘t and wouldn’t easily believe. But they had the power that could easily bring the homo-sapien species from being at the top of the food chain, down to the very bottom . . . if they had thumbs and were able to talk.

The moon shone brightly above the sky, giving off an ethereal glow and a mystical aura that captured her attention as though she was in a trance. It was the first night of the Bloody Lunar cycle and she was still able to control the change. Everyone, on the other hand, had gone out for a run . . . sprinting swiftly through the woods as free as their ancestors had been so long ago.

She sighed and heard a soft howl of one of the pack members, Oz’s distinct tone wafted through the night air.

Buffy’s head quickly snapped up when she heard the loud wail of Angelus. Tears slowly came to her eyes when she took notice of the deep sadness and complete misery in his tone. She wanted to change and run with him underneath their Mother Moon, but she held back that urge and stayed on her rocking chair, gently petting Tiger who continued to sit silently on her lap.

It hurt like hell. To be so near him and yet so far away. She missed his touch, his soft words of affections, his devotion . . . and most of all . . . his love. Her heart clenched whenever she caught him looking at her as though she was still his world. She didn’t understand what was happening, what her feelings were. All she knew was that she was confused, still angry, and most of all . . . still heart broken.

A knock came softly at the door, pulling her out of her thoughts as she gazed back out the window.

“Come in,” she whispered.

The door quietly opened as the familiar tingle of one of her own silently walked in. “Hello, Spike,” she breathed, leaning her head against the rocking chair.

“Hello, pet,” he greeted back with his usual sly grin. “Now what’s this all about? Not runnin’ with the others?” he asked, mockingly scolding her.

Buffy smiled slightly. “How about you?” she countered lightly.

“Well,” he began as he sat on the edge of her bed, “Couldn’t run without my girl,” he smirked a little.

“How’s Dawn? And the others we saved?” she asked, changing the subject.

“Lil’ Bit’s out there. I think the twins have a crush on her . . . but it could be the other way around. It‘s quite adorable . . . in a real disturbing way. But the twins insists that they‘re men now,” he said with a small chuckle and a shake of his head, causing Buffy to slightly smile, “Some of the others either went home already or stayed in, not fit to go out yet,” he informed her.

Buffy nodded and gazed back out of her window, relishing the vision of the night that held her attention so fully. It was so beautiful . . . so mysterious. She didn’t understand why people took advantage of the night, often fearing it and sleeping through it. Maybe it’s just because she was a part of the night, making her so fond and attached to it as though it was a brother.

She stayed quiet, and the two of them continued on like that, in silent comfort as a sense of peace swallowed the room. It was often like this with Spike, a reassuring stillness that told he more than words ever could. That’s what she will always have with Spike, that bond of security.

“You know, pet,” he sighed, finally breaking the silence as he stared at her face, “From the very beginning, I hated Angelus . . . “

“Spike . . . “

“No, luv . . . “ he said, jaws clenched as he tried to control his jealousy and rage from the memories that assaulted his brain, “Please . . . just listen.”

Buffy stayed quiet.

“He was arrogant . . . a real bastard,” he chuckled lightly. “Ten outta ten of a real prick . . . “ He looked up at her with sad eyes, “And he had won the rights of Leader to our pack . . . as well as its queen,” their eyes locked, blue meeting blue in a moment of understanding, “And I hated him even more after that.”

Buffy looked away just as Tiger hopped off her lap and towards Spike, circling around his feet before settling down by his right boot, feeling the werewolf‘s pain loud and clear.

“You know . . . “ he chuckled again, “After all I’ve done and said to him, through all the bullshit I‘ve given him, I should be dead and buried by now for my disrespect,” he informed her even though she already knew, “I test his authority everyday . . . but he’s never done anything to me because he knows that you won’t forgive him if he does something to cause me harm . . . and he cares about you enough to respect that little fact.”

Buffy stayed silent.

Spike sighed. “He’s a good man, Buffy . . . he’s taken care of the pack, let me off the hook of his wrath more than once . . . and I have a feeling it wasn’t all for him and his male glory,” he said, “This is more for you than himself.”

Buffy smiled slightly as she absorbed his smart words. “When did Angelus suddenly become a good guy in your book?” she asked, “I thought he was at the very top of your shit list?”

Spike huffed. “He’s not,” he assured her with pride,” And he still is.”

Buffy chuckled lightly and Spike had to smile as well. “Buffy, I know how he’s changed,” he told her, “Oz might be considered as the observer in our clan, but I do some observing too. Angelus has altered . . . it’s no longer about him anymore, it’s about all of us now, and especially . . . about you.”

Buffy looked away and Spike sighed for the third time. “Pet, I know you love him. He still loves you too. That whole thing with Faith was a mistake, and I know deep down inside that you know it. Faith's a manipulating bitch." Buffy still said nothing, "He cares about you, pet. No matter how much I hate to say it, you're everything to him. Everybody in our pack bloody well knows it . . . Everyone sees it in his eyes, he . . . “

“I was a fool for believing him and his promises,” Buffy cut him off, bring stubborn as usual, “And an even bigger fool for falling in love with him.”

“All of us are fools when it comes to love, pet,” he smiled sadly, “I should know. I’ve been down that road before.”

Buffy looked up at his sad blue eyes that tried not to look at her. Her heart clenched at seeing the wretchedness in her best friend’s face, the misery the pulled at his form. She stood from her rocking chair and walked towards him, kneeling in front of him and staring straight into his eyes.

“Promise me something, Spike.”

The young man waited for her to continue.

“Promise me that you’ll find someone to love you with her whole heart . . . and who you will love completely in return as well,” she said softly.

He nodded hesitantly, seeing the desperation and pleading in her soft eyes that were so close to shedding tears.

“You have to promise me somethin’ too, pet,” he smiled forlornly.

Buffy nodded as she took him in his arms, not able to look into his face of misery any longer without erupting into a mass of tears and sobs. So she rested her head on his shoulder as he buried his face in the crook of her smooth neck.

“Forgive him . . . love him,” he whispered in her ear, closing his eyes as he hugged her tighter against him, “And just be happy with him. . . “

* * * * * * * * * * * *

~Spike POV~

I sat pensively on the rooftop of the mansion, just gazing into the night and letting the silence console me as the breeze blew against my still form. The pack was still out in their run, trying to ease the tension that had been building up all week because of Buffy’s kidnapping and Faith’s betrayal.

I sighed and took out a cigarette, lighting it with a match before taking a deep drag of the slim fag.

I’ve always took comfort in the fact that I knew where I belonged, what made me smile, what made me angry. I knew what happiness was when you would look at the sunset, at cute little smiling babies, and ice-cream. I knew the overwhelming feeling of joy when you held someone you loved in your arms . . . but I also knew the pain of seeing that someone love another . . . and be happy and overjoyed in that other man’s arms.

I let out the smoke from my lungs, watching as the white but deadly breeze disappear, mingling with the air of the sweet night.

I will always love Buffy. She holds a part of my heart that can never be touched by anyone else. And if I can’t have her, at least I have a fact to take with me . . . to know she had been mine once, and I had been hers.

Maybe in the long run . . . that’s all that I’ll ask of her . . . and be happy with it.

But for now . . . I’m just . . . broken.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter Thirty-Five: The Agreement

“Hey.”

Buffy looked up at Faith from her seat on the white gazebo, but said nothing to the brunette who was smartly dressed for a journey in more meanings than one.

The dark woman just sighed and looked away, leaning against the opening with her arms crossed and her packed bags by her feet. “I just want to let you know, before I leave . . . that nothing happened between Angelus and I.”

“Thanks for the assurance,” Buffy said without any emotion as she stared off into the garden, her left hand fiddled with her pink floral skirt while her right hand was clasped lightly around the chain that held the swinging settee. “Now if you don’t mind, I‘d like to be alone.”

Faith snorted, “To what? Brood?” she shook her head lightly. “God, you always do this.”

“Do what?” Buffy glared at her.

“Whenever someone hurts you, you hold this humungous grudge that . . . “

Buffy stared at her for a moment. “You actually have the balls to say that to me?” she asked through an angry stare.

Faith sighed, realizing her wrong choice of words, “You’re not getting my point,” she said in a frustrated tone, “Angelus did nothing to you. It was ME.”

“It’s always you, isn’t it, Faith?” Buffy asked bitterly.

“I deserved that,” she whispered.

“You deserve more than just that,” Buffy said, looking away again.

“I’m already being cast out,“ Faith reminded her heatedly.

“They were sentencing you to death,” Buffy reminded her back.

Faith sighed. “I obviously can’t get through to you . . . and I guess I can understand that, but know something . . . Angelus loves you. If you never believe how sorry I am or how regretful I am . . . or how NOTHING happened between me and him . . . at least believe that he cares about you. Cares so much that this whole thing happening between the two of you is killing him,” she said sincerely and then added softly, “And it’s killing you too.”

Buffy still said nothing and Faith closed her eyes in guilt and pain. Here was the woman who had probably cared about her more than anyone and had tried so hard to befriend her all of her life . . . and she was emotionally dead because of the hurt she had caused her. She caused this . . . and there was nothing she could do to fix it.

She picked up her two bags, silently turned away, and whispered, “I’m sorry,” as she hoped deep inside that somehow, everything would be fixed and be right once again.

“Faith . . . wait . . . ” Buffy called out, standing up from her seat as she gazed at the young woman’s back.

The brunette stopped in her tracks at the bottom of the steps but didn‘t turn around.

“What is it, B?”

“Thank you,” was Buffy’s whispered reply.

Faith could only nod as she walked away. “See you in Werewolf Heaven, B,” she laughed sadly, “If I ever make it there.”

“Good luck then,” were Buffy’s last words to her.

Tears of relief fell from her brown eyes as slowly walked away with her head held high. If this wasn’t the start of her new life . . . she didn’t know what is.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

“What the hell are you doing?” Angelus frowned as he gazed inside Spike’s bedroom, glancing around the fairly large room filled with piled boxes. He had just visited the twins in their playroom and had seen Spike’s door wide open, and that NEVER happened. It was always either closed or locked, but never open for the whole mansion to see.

“I’m knitting a sweater,” Spike replied sarcastically, “What in the bloody hell does it look like I’m doing.”

“Placing rags in a sorry-for-an-excuse duffel bag,” Angelus smirked haughtily before leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed against his chest.

Spike looked up and glared at the alpha male. “They’re called clothes, Peaches,” he said through clenched teeth, holding back his anger for the millionth time whenever Angelus was nearby. “No wonder Buffy won’t forgive you, you arrogant son of a bitch,” he muttered under his breath as he continued with his packing.

Angel’s face fell, his confident form slowly slumping after clearly hearing the younger man’s words. It had been exactly six straight days, eleven hours, and thirty-six minutes since he had last held her without any of the animosity that was presently running through her in engulfing waves.

During that time, she still wouldn’t talk to him, still wouldn’t look into his eyes. He was like a plague to her, clearly avoiding him since Faith’s trial . . . well . . . and even before that. He didn’t know what to do, what to say, or how to even start begging on his knees for forgiveness. All he knew was that he was dying, and the only person who can save him hated him at this very moment.

“Going somewhere?” Angelus asked as he tried to calm his nerves down, fighting back the urge to take his fury out on the blunt English ass.

“I’m leaving,” Spike replied, “I can’t stay here.”

“Why?” the other male asked curiously.

The younger male angrily threw in his last articles of clothing inside his bag, pain in his heart and fury in his blue eyes. “ ‘Cause I don’t want to be here when you and Buffy start makin’ googly eyes at each other again. Catch my drift?”

Angel looked away. “How can you be so sure?” he asked, trying to sound casual about it.

“You can’t deny the Moon, Angelus,” Spike told him, “Doin’ so will result in changes you don’t want to see or experience. You want to deny destiny? Be my bloody guest. Buffy‘ll be long gone and untouchable by then.”

“Where did you get this from? A fortune cookie?” the alpha male asked jokingly, “Maybe Madame Cleo and her glass ball that‘s really made out of some cheap plastic?”

“Wesley, you big poofter, and the moral teachings of our kind,” Spike answered, staring at him with cold blue eyes, “Maybe it’ll do you good to bloody learn it along with how to treat a lady.”

“Fuck you,” Angelus growled angrily.

“Go fuck yourself,” Spike countered, rolling his eyes.

But in an instant, Spike found himself against the wall with a very pissed-off Angelus glaring at him. “I should kill you right now.”

“But you won’t,” Spike choked out as he calmly added, “ ‘Cause you love ‘er too much to cause ‘er anymore pain.”

Angel shoved him harder against the wall, eyes flashing yellow in warning before pulling away. “I hate you,” he growled, giving himself a mental pat on the back for the real nice comeback.

“The feelin’s mutual, Peaches. Trust me,” Spike said as he fixed his shirt and rubbed his sore neck. “It scares me to think what will happen if and when she starts testing your patience, mate.”

Angelus frowned at him, anger enormously building up in his brown orbs. He grabbed his shirt again and lifted him up against the wall. “What are you insinuating, Spike? That I’ll hurt her?” Angelus demanded.

The younger male choked again. “You’ve done it before . . . “

“Do not speak as though you know what happened . . . “ he growled furiously.

Spike smirked sadly. “I do know,” he informed the alpha male, “Know so much that the pain you caused her drove her so far as to run away from you . . . and ignore you as if you don’t exist to her since she got back.”

“You’re an asshole, Spike,” Angelus growled, “And I can’t wait until you leave and be gone from our lives.”

“Well, Peaches . . . you’re giving me second thoughts now,” Spike grinned.

Angelus pushed him harder against the wall. “When you leave, I never want to see you back here again, do you understand me?”

Spike coughed out, “You can’t keep me away from my clan . . . my family.”

Angelus smiled evilly. “You wanna bet.”

“I will come back in time for Buffy’s labor, and you won’t be able to stop me,” Spike glared at the older male.

“What?” Angelus stopped.

Spike grinned smugly and pulled away. That’ll teach him, he thought quietly. He went back and packed his remaining items and zipped up his duffel bag, watching Angelus in the corner of his eyes.

The alpha male just kind of stood there, in utter astonishment.

“See you in eight more months, Angelus,” Spike said and headed out the door. “Oh, and do me a favor,” he said looking back at the stunned male with serious eyes. “Take care of her, Peaches,” Spike told him defiantly, “Don’t take advantage of her vulnerability . . . Because if you don’t find her innocence beautiful, then you’re a fool not worthy of her.” And with that said, he turned and left.

“Yeah,” was all Angelus could say as he nodded in agreement. And that was all he was able to say for a LONG time as he stood in the middle of Spike‘s empty room, still in shock.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter Thirty-Six: The End

The sound of an old twinkling and familiar tune woke Buffy up from her sleep that night. She blinked one, twice, pushing away the arms of slumber from her muddled brain as she tried to grasp at her surroundings.

She frowned slightly, rubbed her eyes with a yawn, and cautiously sat up from bed, gazing around her darkened room for any indication where the melody may be coming from.

Her movement caused Tiger to wake up from his own sleep at the foot of her bed. He gazed at her curiously until he, himself, heard the distant melody, his gaze looking around inquisitively for the source.

Buffy gazed outside her window and noticed a warm glow coming from the garden below. She pulled away the covers on her bed and stepped out, slipping on a pair of plain white sneakers and grabbing a white sweater. Tiger watched her carefully before following her out the door.

Buffy crept silently down the hall, rubbing her shoulders tiredly as Tiger trudged by her side in an almost happy little skip. She had to smile. Such a small creature with no problems weighing him down, and Buffy wished she was him.

Her feet was silent as she padded across the marble steps of the grand staircase of the Crawford mansion with Tiger’s light tapping footsteps just behind her. She hugged her sweater closer to her body as she turned and headed for the back door that would lead her to the gardens.

The freshness of the clear night invaded Buffy’s senses from the moment she stepped out of the safety of her home. Tiger ran freely ahead of her towards the light, wanting to bark out loud in excitement, but deciding to keep quiet, knowing that people were still asleep at this hour. God forbid Xander running out into the large open backyard with blood red eyes and a shotgun. The thought made the dog whimper a bit.

Buffy followed Tiger as made her way into the middle of the garden, where the angel fountain would be . . . but instead of the fountain, Buffy found herself staring at a glowing mini carousel.

It was the very same one from the North Wing Hall, with the tarnished gold poles, the scraped paint, the dusty seats, and the broken mirrors and light bulbs. But it had been fixed, and it stood in the middle of the garden in all its glory, playing that same old tune on the day she had that talk with Willow . . . and it was later on that same day when Angelus told her he loved her.

~You’re My Everything~
By: ? (1920’s song)

//You’re my everything, underneath the sun
You’re my everything rolled up into one . . . //

Unknown to her, tears began to form in her eyes as she walked slowly towards it, remembering that night as though it only happened yesterday.

{{ “I want to apologize for the other day, Buffy,” Angelus said softly.

“You have nothing to be sorry about,” Buffy chuckled bitterly. “It was a stupid thing to ask when I already knew the answer.”

“You got it all wrong, luv,” he said through clenched teeth. }}

She sat down on one of the horses and the carousel slowly began to spin.

{{ “Do you love me?” he asked suddenly.

“Don’t get cocky and don’t rub it in my face,” she said, tears threatening to spill from her striking eyes.

“Tell me.”

“Yes!” she cried, “Are you happy!” }}

She rested her head against the golden pole as tears of happiness mixed with sadness streamed from her face.

{{ “Don’t mess with me, please,” Buffy begged.

“What do I have to do to prove to you that I’m in love with you?” he asked, “Get down on my knees? Exclude myself in the wood for days without eating?" He stared into her eyes. “I would die for you . . . ” he stated firmly, “I’d kill myself for you.” }}

“Hey,” a soft voice greeted her as the carousel continued to move.

She looked behind her and saw Angelus standing by the horse, a solemn expression on his handsome face. “Hey,” she greeted back tenderly, casting her eyes down shyly. “It’s beautiful,” she commented about the renovated merry-go-round.

“You told me once that you’d like to see this thing repaired . . . for the future generation of the pack,” he told her, patting the horse next to her and looking around the small carousel.

“I love it,” she smiled slightly, “Thank you.”

//You’re my only dream, my only reality,
You’re my idea of a perfect personality.//

“I want to apologize . . . “

“You’ve apologized enough,” Buffy interrupted him, and Angelus looked away, clenching and unclenching his jaws as was his habit.

“Buffy . . . I’m willing to beg . . . for your forgiveness, for anything. And I won‘t stop until you do,“ he said and got down on his knees, looking up at her pleadingly as he took her hand in his, “I may deserve it but God . . . I can‘t go on knowing that you no longer love me . . . that you hate me . . . ”

Buffy shook her head, “No, I didn’t mean it that way,” she looked at him, “I know you’re sorry for everything that has happened, and I finally realized that none of it was your fault.”

“But . . . “

“Don’t,” she said and placed her fingers against his lips. He closed his eyes and shivered slightly, relishing her touch that he hadn‘t felt since he brought her back home.

“It’s time that I apologized,” she told him truthfully as she pulled her hand away. “I’m sorry for not believing enough in you . . . in us,” her lips quivered faintly, “I now know that it wasn’t the site of Faith on top you that night . . . it was just my insecurities getting the better of me. She knew herself, she was comfortable in her skin . . . I still had to get used to mine.” She stared into his soulful brown eyes as he stood up, “I know what I mean to you . . . and . . . I know what you mean to me. I trust you with everything that I’m made of and . . . I love you with all my heart . . .”

Before she could finish, Angelus pulled her into his arms and pressed his lips against hers. That was all he had to hear . . . all he wanted to hear. He put all his love, his passion, and everything into that kiss, and Buffy felt it within every inch of her body and her soul.

//You’re my everything, everything I need,
You’re the song I sing, the book I read . . . //

“I love you so much,” Angel said and pulled her against him, his heart beating briskly in joy beneath his chest.

She smiled and rested her head against his shoulder, tears rapidly spilling from her eyes. “I love you too,” she whispered back, and Angel held her tighter against him, thanking the Gods for giving her back to him.

He slowly pulled away, grasping her face between his hands. “I have a question to ask you,” he said seriously and quickly took out the white gold Claddagh engagement ring she had lost out in the woods before she got captured. Her eyes widened at the site of it. She had been looking for it everywhere . . . and he had it in his hands ready to . . . “Will you marry me?”

“You already know the answer,” she smiled.

“Humor me and just say it,” he begged.

“Yes, I will marry you . . . my angel,” she replied happily.

He almost howled, but kissed her lips instead, lifting her up from the horse and crushing her to his chest. This was home . . . in her arms, surrounded in her love, and it was the same for her as well.

//You’re a way beyond belief, and just to make it brief,
You’re my winter, my spring . . . my everything.//

“This is a good time to tell you that I’m . . . “

“I already know,” Angelus smiled brightly and looked down at her still flat stomach that would swell soon enough.

Buffy frowned. “Who told you?”

“Spike.”

“Remind me to kill him when he comes back.”

“My pleasure,” Angel smirked and said once more, “I love you, Buffy.”

“I love you too, Angel.”

Tiger barked happily at their feet, and the pair laughed brightly.

And the two destined souls finally found their fate . . . in each other, and the Moon Goddess and her Shadow King smiled in happiness . . . and in relief.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Epilogue

“Okay, Buffy, you have to push,” Joyce told Buffy firmly but gently as the wiped the sweat that had formed on her brow with the back of her hand. Her daughter was almost on the brink of madness, one small thing will end up snapping the young woman into insanity.

Buffy stared down at her mother as though she was crazy. Push? What the hell had she been doing? Having tea and crumpets? “You want this pup out? You have to work for it,” Joyce said as the woman in labor sat on her bed with her legs wide open, ready to give birth to the child that the pack had all been excitedly waiting for.

“But I’ve been working for almost 18 hours!” Buffy screamed in pain and complete frustration, “Just slice me open and get this kid out of me!” she yelled through her tears.

Angel sat frowning by her side, holding her grasping hand and stroking her golden blond hair. If he was able to take away her pain, he would, but sadly she had to do this on her own, with only his support and love guiding her.

She looked up at him with wide blue eyes, her chin quivering, and her teeth clenched tightly. “You will NEVER touch me again after this,” she whispered angrily to her husband.

Angel smiled uneasily and kissed her sweaty forehead. “You don’t mean that.”

She laughed sarcastically, “You wanna make a bet?” she asked with enough hostility and seriousness to frighten and worry him a little.

He didn’t have the chance to retort back because Spike came prancing in their master bedroom with his usual smirk and a video camera to add to that. “Hey, ducks, give us a smile. Your kid‘ll love this when he gets to be older,” he told Buffy as he fixed the camera on her rumpled form.

“Turn that off !” she demanded angrily.

Joyce sighed. “Spike . . . “

“What the hell are you doing here? Get out!” Angel yelled at the younger male in complete fury. He was seeing his wife all . . . wide and open, and Angelus did not fully appreciate or consent to that fact.

“Don’t get your knickers get in a bunch, Peaches,” Spike replied as he fixed that intruding gadget on that alpha male who looked as though he was ready to tear him to pieces, “It’s only for remembrance. Smile.”

“I’ll show you . . . “

“Ahhhhh! Shut up!” Buffy screamed at the two of them, the veins on her forehead about to pop from the intensity of her anger and not to mention all the pushing. “I’m trying to have a baby here! So why don’t the two of you get over your male egos for just a minute and let me . . . ahhh . . . !”

“I see the head,” Joyce announced excitedly.

The two males became silent. Angel grasped Buffy’s hand again as he watched his baby with the feeling of bewilderment and shock. Buffy almost smiled at the expressions that danced on his handsome face, but the fact that her labor wasn’t over stopped her. Spike, on the other hand, quickly put up his camera and watched in curious fascination as a head clearly poked out of . . .

“Give me another big push, honey . . . “

“Oh, man, the pack’ll love this,” Spike grinned as he focused on the birth, zooming in for a close up. Buffy was too preoccupied with her mother’s demand that she didn’t even hear him, and Angel was still in a bit of a shock to walk over to the bleach blond and throttle him.

Minutes later a healthy baby was brought into the world, screaming and kicking. “It’s a boy,” Joyce announced happily as the cleaned the mass of flesh with a clean towel. She quickly wrapped him up in warm blankets and carefully handed the baby to its mother.

“Angel . . . he’s beautiful,” Buffy cried, tears of wonder and awe flowing slowly down her flushed cheeks. Her husband said nothing as he studied his child, the baby’s eyes were squinted tightly, his mouth wide open, showing off nothing but pink gums . . . and a set of lungs that barely compared to Buffy‘s.

After years of being alone and being on his own with no one to really turn to. . . he finally had a family to name his own. First it had been this pack, then he found a more intimate family in Buffy, and now, the two of them had finally made one of their own . . . together.

“What are you namin’ the kid?” Spike asked, his camera shoved against their faces.

Angelus couldn’t even become angry as the annoying male focused it on the bellowing child. “Liam Angelus O’Connor,” the proud father answered.

Spike snorted and lifted the camera up towards Angelus, “It’s your baby.”

Buffy shot him a glare.

Chatter outside the bedroom drew their attention as Joyce handed Angel a pair of medical scissors. He cut the umbilical cord with almost shaking fingers. Buffy’s mother patted his hand with an assuring smile. “You did good,” she whispered as she covered up her daughter just as the entire pack rushed in to get a look at their new member.

Angelus gave her gratefully smile. He knew what she meant when she said that he did good. It was more than just being strong and patient for Buffy’s labor . . . but for everything he did for the pack . . . and especially for her daughter.

Angel looked down at his wife and his child. He wouldn’t have had it any other way.

“He’s so cute,” Willow gushed as the younger females of the clan stared at the baby in amazement.

As the entire pack continued gushing over the baby, taking pictures, and chattering and laughing amongst each other, Buffy looked up at Angel with a smile on her glowing face. “Do you think this is finally Happily Ever After?” she asked with a grin that probably wouldn’t be coming off for a LONG while.

Angel smiled back and was about to say yes when Xander rushed in, his chest rising and falling, “Angelus, we have a small tiny problem downstairs.”

The alpha male sighed and kissed his wife and looked down at Liam who was looking at everyone with much curiosity. “Not even close, my love,” he told her truthfully and smiled nonetheless, “But who ever said it was going to be? Plus . . . Happily Ever After sounds like the end of our lives. This is only just the beginning . . . “

~{The End}~

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