A demon roamed aimlessly, hungry yet not seeking to hunt, knowing that it would only cause more pain than it was worth.  He deliberately strayed through the patrol route of the Slayer.  Hell, and why not?  Seemed like the verbal spats with her were the only pleasure that was left to him.

Across town, a blond haired girl sat and chanted quietly.  Tara's mind was perfectly balanced.  Her brow furrowed ever so slightly, but other than that there was no sign that she was anything but at peace.  The chanting increased in tempo.  Unbeknownst to her the herbs scattered in bowls about the room began to smoke.  A magickal energies built and fed upon themselves, the herbs burst into flame.  Tara's eyes flashed open wide.

Pain ripped through the demon.  He experienced a brief moment of bewilderment, then disbelief, and finally a blackness so sudden and absolute that it came as a relief.

"What are you going to be taking in the fall?"

Buffy cast her friend a dubious look.  "I still have nearly six weeks to decide."

"Three," Willow corrected.  "And you said that last year up until a week before classes started."

"I'm starting a tradition."  Buffy wrapped her fingers more tightly about the stake she carried and glanced towards Willow.  The wedge that had developed between them had dwindled to no more than a hairline crack, but even that felt like too much.  "So...," Buffy began, then halted herself.  She was never good about pushing herself onto ground that she would rather avoid. "How are things between you and Tara?"

"Ooh, out of the fluff and into the heavy-duty subjects."  Willow grimaced. What she had meant jokingly had come out more like an accusation.  She sighed.  "Not entirely sure.  At first I thought there might really be something there, but now it's like it's just leveling off.  What's left is something more than friendship and less than love."  Willow shook her head, making strands of red hair swing wildly.  "And it's got me completely and totally mixed up."

"Confusion, thy name is college," Buffy agreed.  Voice suddenly sounding small, she asked, "You know you can still tell me anything, right?  'Cause I miss this, yammering away about all our secrets like we used to in high school."

Willow smiled.  "I miss it, too.  But hey, no permanent damage done.  We got a bit caught up in the whole 'college equals instantaneous freedom' thing is all."

"Uh-huh."  From the suddenly distant look in Buffy's eyes, Willow guessed that a vampire or some other spookable had just crossed the Slayer's radar and was now requiring her full attention.  The redhead decided the best thing to do was to fall silent and stick close.

The moon was nearly full and casting its silken, seductive light over the tombstones and mausoleums of the cemetery that their patrol was taking them through.  Buffy allowed only a small part of her mind to stay on Willow, making sure that her friend was not going to be in any danger, and the rest honed sharply on the stake that fit so naturally in her hand and the vampire that was hovering on the edge of her consciousness.  Though she was loathe to ever admit it, Buffy supposed that in some ways vampires and Slayers were similar.  Both of them understood the tension and excitement of being on the hunt, the key difference being of course that Buffy's preferred form of hunting saved lives rather than ended them.

Luna's rays gleamed on something pale for a moment and Buffy, feeling her adrenal glands take it up another notch, wove around a grand old tomb to see exactly what that something was.  Disappointed by the result, she loosened her grip on the stake and placed her hands on her hips.  "Figures," she muttered.  "You know, Fangless, hanging around in this stretch of cemetery isn't really conducive to good health."  She took a step closer and peered intently at the vampire.  "Are you on something?"

Spike sat with his back braced against the tomb, head thrown back and hands hanging limply between his knees.  Moonlight struck his prominent cheekbones and cast shadows beneath his eyes.  Her neither moved nor gave any other sign that he knew Buffy was there.

"Spike?" Willow asked softly as she stepped around Buffy.  "Are you all right?"  The vampire opened his eyes and looked at her, and even from where she stood Willow could see they were bloodshot.

His voice slightly hoarse, he said, "No, Red, I am most definitely not all right."

The brunette walked into the kitchen, where Wesley and Kate were sitting at the table, drinking the strongest, blackest coffee they had been able to make.  Cordelia's lip curled very slightly at the sight of the policewoman, but she poured herself a cup of coffee and sat down nonetheless.  "All right," she said, taking a sip of the hot beverage.  God bless caffeine. "Game plan.  We need one.  Now."

Wesley looked at her critically.  "Are you sure you want to discuss this immediately?  You *were* alone with Angel when he... changed."

She closed her eyes for a few moments, warding off the images of her at first unlikely friend suddenly halting in mind conversation, a pained and confused look coming over his face.  Cordelia had touched his arm, asked him what was wrong, an edge of warning already knifing through her brain.  Angel had shaken his head lightly and smiled.  The next thing Cordelia knew he was gripping her so tightly about her upper arms that if she glanced down she would be able to see the blooming purple bruises.  Only by somehow reaching into her purse and gripping the heavy wooden crucifix she kept there had she been able to wrench free.  Cordelia had stared in horror at what had once been Angel, now cupping his seared cheek and spitting some of the foulest curses she had ever heard at her, for a few infinite seconds.  Then she had run fast enough to make Sunnydale's track coach proud.

"We need to use the day while we can," Cordelia said at last.  "That's not Angel we're dealing with here.  It's Angelus.  Whole different ballgame."

Kate spoke for the first time.  "How can I help?"

Cordelia's eyes narrowed but it was Wesley who answered the policewoman.  "I don't believe you can.  All you can really do is lay low and try not to attract Angelus's attention."

"Look, I've been out of line for the past several months," Kate said bluntly. "I'll admit that.  And I'm still not overly fond of Angel, but Angelus is killing people in *my* city.  I can't tolerate that."

"We're dealing with the forces of darkness here," Wesley said shortly.  "I highly doubt that the LAPD is equipped to deal with that."  Kate bristled slightly but held her tongue.  "We should probably call Giles in Sunnydale. It's plausible that Angelus may head back that way."  Wesley paused to rub his eyes tiredly.  "And of course we should gather information on recursing him."

"Recursing?" Kate asked.  "This can be reversed?"

"What did you think we were going to do?"  Cordelia read answer enough on Kate's face.  She shook her head disgustedly.  "You'd probably be safest staying with Gunn.  That boy has weapons upon weapons."

"I don't plan on running."

"Fine."  Cordelia stood suddenly.  "You know what, you just do whatever you want.  We can't make your decisions for you."

"I'd appreciate it if you didn't," Kate said stiffly.  She pushed her own chair back.  "Thank you for the coffee and the warning."  Kate walked out without another word.

Wesley stared after her.  "You know, I can see why that woman irritated Angel so much."

"Amiability is not her strong point," Cordelia agreed.  The brunette dropped her head into her hands.  A few seconds later she felt Wesley lightly begin to rub her shoulders.  "Wes, what are we going to do?"

"We'll come through it," Wesley told her soothingly.  "Try not to panic."

Cordelia turned in her chair and glared at him.  "It's taking everything I have not to run straight off the panic cliff here.  You weren't in Sunnydale the last time Angel pulled the whole Sybil routine.  You've only seen Angelus for a few seconds, Wesley, and wasn't that just the most fun you've ever had?"  Cordelia felt her voice began to shake but at that point she no longer cared.  "So let me clue you in.  It was Hell.  All of the Scooby Gang suffered, Buffy most of all.  Angelus destroys what Angel cares about.  That would be us, and everyone *we* have ever cared about.  Are you getting the picture now?"

Wesley stared at her.  "I'll call Giles."

Cordelia let her hand fall back into her hands.  "You do that," she whispered, near tears. 

"Spike," Giles called, then repeated himself when the vampire gave no visible response.  "Spike, the more you add your own descriptions of what you experienced, the sooner we can figure out what happened."

"What's there to bloody figure out?" Spike demanded, finally opening his eyes and staring directly at the watcher.  "Somewhere in dear old Sunnydale, some amateur sorcerer was tinkering around with something they didn't understand and along the way I ended up with a soul."  He thumped the back of his head repeatedly against the chair.  "A *soul*.  What the Hell am I supposed to do now?"

"If you even have one," Buffy replied edgily.  "You don't seem overly guilt-stricken to me."

"Would you rather I try to charge out into the day?" Spike asked, gesturing towards the window where dawn's first light was creeping through the blinds. Ignoring Buffy's falsely sweet smile, he continued.  "I... was not the nicest person to walk the planet when I was alive.  I had killed for the first time before I became a vampire."  Spike paused for a moment and looked down. "Those quick, painless deaths I had to make to survive, those don't hurt so much.  It's the others..."  He looked Giles square in the eye.  "It hurts.  I want it gone."

"I don't believe this!" Buffy exploded.  She left her station by the wall and stormed forward until she was standing directly in front of Spike.  "You're getting a second chance here and just just want to throw it away?!  God, becoming a vampire really didn't change you that much, did it?"

Amber flickered in Spike's eyes for a moment before they returned to stormy gray-blue.  He gritted, "You don't know how hard it is.  Every face is in here for instant recall.  I can't deal with that every single day, every hour and every minute for the rest of eternity.  I just can't."

Buffy made a small, disgusted sound in the back of her throat and turned away.

"Fighting won't help," Giles said tiredly.  He hadn't particularly enjoyed being awakened before dawn by two girls dragging in a reluctant and newly souled vampire.  "Spike, I advise you to get some sleep and think over your situation, should it prove both valid and permanent.  Second chances are actually quite rare."

"They're not always as welcome as you'd think, either," Spike snapped, but his voice lacked conviction.  He made his way over to the couch, which Willow obligingly vacated for him, and lay down.  The vampire knew that attempting rest was pointless even as he closed his eyes.  Exhausted though he might be, sleep was not going to be coming that day.

"I'm gonna go home and check in," Buffy said.  "I'll be back after I've had a couple hours sleep."

"I'll start looking for a spell or something to see if this is the real deal."  Willow had already begun rummaging through Giles's familiar texts. "No offense if you're being straight on this, Spike, but taking you on blind faith hasn't already been a wonderful idea."  Spike opened his eyes for a few seconds and made a dismissive gesture.

"Your parents aren't going to be worried?"

Willow shook her head and smiled faintly.  "Nah.  Now that I'm in college they've decided that their job is over and the part days are here again. They're never home."

"Man, I wish I had your parents during high school," Buffy said as she walked to the door.  "Would have made the whole Slaying gig much easier."

"Guess it would  have."  Spike opened his eyes at the forlorn note in Willow's voice.  "See you later, Buff."

"You all right, Red?"

It took Willow a few seconds to place the owner of the voice.  Giles had gone up to his loft bedroom, leaving only Spike in the room with her, but the fact that he was showing concern for someone other than himself threw her.  "What?"

"You sounded upset," Spike clarified.  "Are you?"

Willow regarded him warily.  The Spike she knew would be swift to use any painful personal information he used against her.  "Maybe I am," she conceded.  "A bit.  Doesn't matter."

"Seems to matter to you."

"Knock it off, all right?" Willow flared.  "You've been an ass for as long as I've known you, Spike.  Don't think your sudden -and might I add more than a little dubious-reform entitles you to be my best pal."

Spike flinched.  "Sorry."  Another rush of guilt struck him.  "About it all."

The ancient book threw up a cloud of dust as Willow opened it.  She coughed and waved the particles away from her face.  "No, I shouldn't be this snappish.  Just tired."  The phone chose that moment to ring and Willow got to her feet and answered.  "Hello?  Hey, Wesley.  Guessing this isn't a social call."  A pause.  The blood drained from Willow's face.  "No, that definitely wouldn't be considered a social call."  Willow let the phone drop back to the desk and rushed to the foot of the stairs.  "GILES!  Get down here!"

Spike stood from the couch.  "What's wrong?"  Willow only stared at him, her eyes beginning to round in fear, and shook her head.

Giles pounded down the stairs.  "Dear Lord, what is it?"

The redhead gestured towards the abandoned receiver.  "Phone call," she whispered softly.

Giles started to say something, then looked at Willow's face and thought better of it.  He lifted the phone to his ear.  "Wesley, is that you?  What's going on?"  His voice set itself into stone.  "I see.  Yes, yes.  Why don't you and Cordelia come down here?  That may draw Angelus to where he can be better dealt with and it will be easier to protect everyone if they are in one place."

Willow was listening to Giles tensely, but Spike after he heard the name of Angelus, after all the time that had passed still spoken with such hatred by the Watcher.  A curious feeling was beginning to spread through Spike's head, almost but not quite.  He gasped and staggered backwards as a leak tore loose in the dam.

*For a woman with so much power she was suprisingly light.  Slow feeling of satisfaction.  Not powerful enough, though, was she?  In the end Jenny Calender ended up every bit as dead as any mortal woman.*

Eyes tightly closed and hands rushing up to cradle his head, Spike slid to the floor.  Dimly he heard Willow calling his name and Giles telling Wesley that they had a situation of their own here, could he please wait a moment? Spike drew further into himself to chase the elusive memory.

*Giles, Giles, Giles.  You really shouldn't leave your door unlocked like this.  Don't you know there are nasty things roaming Sunnydale at night?

Now, where to put our delightful little gift.  The bedroom.  Of course.  What better place than where lovers dwell?  Gently.  Don't place a simple bruise upon that lily skin.  Even dead she is a beautiful example of a gypsy.

Done.  A work of art.  Now to work on the rest of the house.  After all, a gift isn't quite the same without its packaging.  Hurry home, Watcher.*

The memory faded away, leaving Spike drained and shaking.  Willow knelt beside him and touched his shoulder.  "What happened?"

Spike shook his head lightly to clear it.  "I saw Angelus."

"Angelus?"  Willow tilted her head in confusion.

"One of his memories," Spike clarified.  He hesitated, clearly not wanting to state the rest of his vision.  He looked towards Giles.  "I saw him here after he had killed your Jenny."

Giles stiffened.  He spoke tensely into the phone.  "Perhaps you and Cordelia should hurry.  Our situations may be connected after all."

Giles watched Spike, who in turn was watching Willow research.  The normally brash and outspoken vampire had been near catatonic the entire day.  He spoke only when asked a direct question and then with the most clipped, monosyllabic answer he could manage.  It was a vast turnaround from the Spike Giles was used to dealing with.

Heaving a frustrated sigh, Willow tossed the latest in a long succession of books to the side.  "Oh, no, this isn't completely pointless."

"There has to be some sort of connection here," Spike said in the soft tone his voice had taken to carrying.  "I gain a soul for no apparent reason, Angel mysteriously loses his.  I have memories of Angelus.  Something's not right here, something beyond the obvious."  The vampire seemed to shrink slightly as he retreated back into the warzone his own mind had become.  It was the longest speech he had made all afternoon.

"And knowing that something is going on beneath the surface doesn't do us a bit of good if we can't figure out what that something is.  It only adds more worry to the pile."  Giles headed into the kitchen to pour himself a drink, then abruptly changed his mind.  Now more than any other time he needed to keep a clear head.

The doorbell rang and Willow jumped at the chance to take a break from the researching.  It wasn't until her hand came into contact with the doorknob that thoughts of Angelus crossed her mind, only to be brushed away just as quickly.  He couldn't be in Sunnydale just moments after the sun sank below the horizon and it would give the bastard far too much satisfaction to know they were thinking of him.

Cordelia gave the redhead a wan smile as the door opened.  "Hey, Willow.  How are you?"

"I'm guessing better than you."  Willow stepped to the side so her friend could enter.  "Hello, Wesley."

"Willow."  The former Watcher nodded in greeting before catching sight of Giles.  "I truly wish we were meeting again under better circumstances, Giles."

"As do I.  However, we'd do best to deal with the hand we have been dealt." For the umpteenth time Giles wished his headstrong Slayer would learn to check in when she said she was going to.

"Giles?" Cordelia inquired softly.

"Yes?" he asked, more than a little thrown to see Cordelia acting so subdued.

"What the Hell?!"  Cordelia threw her arm out to indicate Spike, who was silently watching the proceedings.

'The subdued bit certainly didn't last long', Giles thought ruefully as he answered.  "This is what is leading me to believe our situations are connected.  Spike was cursed with a soul last night."

"And Angel lost his."  Cordelia gave Spike a mistrustful look.  "Why?"

"We're not entirely sure," Giles confessed.  "All of the days research has proved fruitless.  I was hoping the two of you would be able to provide some insight. Was anyone with Angel when he reverted back to Angelus?"

"I was," Cordelia said, her voice suddenly drawn.

Giles was filled with sympathy for the young woman.  Cordelia had depths of strength to her that he didn't think even she realized were there.  To have faced Angelus alone...  "Was there anything that could have triggered his soul to break away?"

The brunette shook her head after thinking for a few moments.  "No.  We were just standing there talking about a case that was getting more than a little tricky.  Nothing bliss-inducing."

"I'm afraid we've done no research of our own," Wesley said apologetically.

Willow detached herself from the conversation after noticing that Spike was doing more than simply leaning against the wall, he was using it to hold himself up.   "Have you fed today?" Willow asked him quietly.

The very thought made Spike blanch.  "No."

"Feed," Willow ordered him, putting on a rusty version of her infamous resolve face.   "You're no good to anyone if you're too weak to stand."

"I'm worthless here anyway, don't you see that?"

Willow shook her head.  "Oh, no, don't you start thinking like that.  Haven't you ever heard of redemption?"

"And how would I manage that?"  Spike leaned forward until their faces were mere inches apart and tapped his forhead.  "Chip, remember?  We both know that the worse evils on this planet aren't always demons."  He paused helplessly to find the words he needed to say.  "I'm not even sure if this is *my* soul I've been given."

Willow drew back.  "What?"

Spike shrugged broadly.  "Angel misplaces his handy-dandy little guilt machine, I suddenly find mine, plus a basket full of memories that *I have no right knowing.*"

"So we'll figure it out," Willow said.  Spike's blue eyes continued scrutinizing her, making her feel uneasy in a way she didn't quite want to identify.  "I'm sure this conversation started out somewhere else.  Right. You need to feed."

Spike shook his head.  "Don't think I could handle that, Willow."

The redhead's brow furrowed.  "I think that's the first time you've ever used my real name."  She continued before Spike could add any commentary. "Anyway, you need to at least try.  You haven't eaten and you haven't slept.  The one rat a month routine for the next eighty years isn't going to work here."

Spike narrowed his eyes at her, ready to fire back a reply, when Giles's front door slammed open and Buffy strode in.  "I am unbelievably sorry, Giles," she said in a rush.  "Just took the phone off the hook for a few hours of sleep.  Didn't mean to crash for the entire day."  The Slayer paused as she took in Wesley and Cordelia for the first time.  "And why are you guys here?"

"Buffy, there's something you need to know," Giles told her gently.

His Slayer immediately took a step back.  "Giles, what's wrong?  Why do you have that look?"

Willow tugged lightly on Spike's arm.  "Kitchen," she murmured.  He caught on quickly and followed her without a word.  Willow deliberately turned her back to the counter, wanting to afford her friend the privacy of sight even if she couldn't shut down her ears.  Cordelia and Wesley drifted in a few seconds later.  Wesley had his arm round Cordelia's shoulder in a reassuring, brotherly gesture and she was leaning gratefully into the comfort.  Despite her worry, Willow smiled.  It was such a contrast to the wayward romance that had been budding the year before and, in her opinion, a much better match.

"Angelus?" Buffy was heard saying from the living room, her voice so raw with pain that Willow wanted to rush out and tell her it was going to be all right, even if they would both know she was lying.

Buffy's voice was not only producing an effect in Willow.  Spike grabbed the counter for support, a vise suddenly wrapping around his head so tightly that in that moment he would have gladly taken the implant's pain in exchange. The vampire was aware of Willow calling his name and even Cordelia and Wesley grudgingly coming forward to help.  Spike growled, feeling his face shift as the pressure in his head built upon itself until he was sure his skull would burst, ending his existence as a souled vampire right then and there.  His vision narrowed to a single pinpoint of light, and in a few seconds even that was taken away.

He turned to her, loving the distance in her eyes, loving the fact that he had put it there.  "Dru," he murmured, drawing her to him with one sweeping movement, smiling as she giggled in response.  "Princess."

"I am a princess, aren't I?  You don't simply tell me so?"  Drusilla experienced a rare moment of panic, her doe eyes growing large and tearful.

"Of course you are."  Angelus ducked his head and nipped at her neck in the very same place he had bitten her so many years before.  Cool blood trickled into his mouth as Drusilla giggled.

"I know you would like to enjoy your creation," a feminine lilt admonished him, "but we are going to be late."

Angelus raised his head and watched the shallow wounds in Drusilla's neck heal before he turned around.  "Jealous?"

The petite blond smiled.  "Hardly, my dear boy.  I think Drusilla is a charming, if slightly tedious, member of our family."  Darla straightened her curls, a skill honed of long practice when one couldn't use a mirror, and smoothed out a nonexistent wrinkle in her dress.  "However, it *is* New Year's Eve, and I had planned on relieving a few of their mortal coil."  Her voice took on a hint of a Sire's commanding tone.

"Of course, my Lady."  Angelus sketched out a mock, playful bow even as he obeyed.  He winked to Drusilla, lifting her hand briefly to his lips. "Later, ma cherie," he murmured.  Darla's scowl half frightened him, half urged him on.  He knew she disapproved of the fact that his obsession with Drusilla had continued even into her death.  Angelus supposed that was at least half the reason he did it.

The three of them left the lavish flat together, Angelus walking in the middle with a beautiful vampiress on each arm.  He and Darla spoke of politics and other news of the day, chuckling over the foolishness of mortals, while Drusilla murmured to the stars and the voices in her own head. Angelus could not help but cast her an admiring glance every now and then. What an accomplishment she was.  Cruelty spread over time, studying the prize, and then carefully stripping it down one piece at a time... some things were just art.

"If I had murdered you family and then driven you insane, would you show me the same kind of devotion that she does?" Darla queried softly.  "Or would I you?"

Angelus tilted his lips lovingly downwards until they met his Sire's. "Without you I would have become a withered old man with no liver and quite possibly no teeth," he told her.  "I owe you everything, and I am yours for all eternity."

"I intend to hold you to that."  Darla pulled her Childe's head down to hers and they shared a passionate meeting of mouths.  Angelus fairly purred at his lover and creator's skill as one of her hands stayed clasped to the back of his head and the other strayed to suddenly more alert places.  The dark vampire was left gasping as Darla suddenly ceased in her ministrations, returning both china hands to rest on his shoulders.  "Do something," she ordered him softly.  "Either for her or to her, I don't care, but I grow weary of sharing."

Angelus glanced to the right, where Drusilla had wandered off a few paces and was apparently holding a conversation with an alley cat.  Both seemed to be fully engrossed in it.

"An accomplishment like her occurs less than once in a lifetime," Angelus said.  "She shouldn't be wasted."

"Neither should you.  What does once in a lifetime matter to us?"

"What indeed."  Angelus continued watching Drusilla.  At least she did not appear to be talking to the cat anymore.  In fact, the cat was now lazily twining itself around a pair of boots.  Drusilla was conversing with the owner of these boots.  Swearing sharply under his breath, Angelus strode over to take Drusilla out of harm's way and perhaps make a meal for himself at the same time.

Drusilla gasped as Angelus grasped her elbow hard enough to make the bones creak and grind together.  "Sister, *dear*," he ground out, "you know I don't like it when you wander off."

"Doubt if she much appreciates having her arm broken, mate."

Angelus barely gave the human a second glance.  "After all," he continued, speaking to Drusilla in low tones, "we have a party to attend."

"We were talking about the moon," Drusilla said, keeping the dreamy tone despite the fact that she was wincing in pain.  "It speaks to him, too."

The vampire finally looked at the man Drusilla had been speaking to, really looked at him.  He was slightly shorter than Angelus, and leaner, with sable colored hair that brushed his shoulders.  Blue-gray eyes met Angelus' in a  challenge.

In short, through his borrowed soul William the Bloody was looking at himself.

"Okay," Cordelia said slowly, "what was that?"

Ignoring Cordelia's question for the moment, Spike asked instead, "How long was I out?"

"Approximately fifteen minutes," Wesley replied apprehensively.

Spike nodded and gripped the counter as the memories assaulted him again. "Well, at least I can count one mystery solved," he said.

"What mystery?"

Spike glanced towards Willow, who had asked the question. "I don't think this is my soul at all," he answered. "These flashes I keep having? Somehow, someway, this is my soul in Angel's body?"

"Is that possible?" No one had noticed Buffy coming into the kitchen. She stood there with feet planted slightly apart and arms crossed, her expression tear stained but strong. "Kind of hard to believe that souls just bounce from body to body, whereever it happens to be convenient."

"I don't know how it happened, but I have Angelus's memories in my head," Spike snapped at her. "Somehow I really doubt they belong there."

Willow asked softly, "What memories?"

Spike gave the redhead a sharp, slightly wild-eyed look. "What?"

"You seem more wound up than before," Willow clarified.

"Just..." Spike shook his head and sighed. What was the use? "It was the night I was turned, through Angelus's eyes."

"Oh," Willow said in a small voice, eyes suddenly compassionate. She touched Spike's arm lightly. "Are you going to be okay?"

The warm, unexpected contact caused Spike to jump and shift away quickly. "I'll be fine," he said brusquely, "once this damned soul is returned to its proper owner."

"What?" Wesley asked.

"Spike would rather go back to being a soulless murderer than own up to what he's done and try to atone." Buffy gave the vampire a bitter smile and he narrowed his eyes at her. "Am I leaving anything out?"

"I have this lovely little chip to keep me in line," Spike countered. "Angelus doesn't. Which one of us do you think needs a soul more?"

Buffy snorted. "Knock off the selfless act. We all know you're doing this because you're a coward, and it's easier to run than stand your ground."

"ENOUGH!" Everyone in the tiny kitchen jumped, so unexpected was the sound. Giles focused his wrath on Buffy and Spike. The others may as well have not been there at all. "Regardless of how it happened or the motives behind trying to right it, there is now a very dangerous killer on the loose. May I suggest the two of you stop acting like children and actually -I know this may come as a shock- help tto come up with something that resembles a plan?" Buffy opened her mouth to speak and was swiftly cut off. "Buffy, please, just let me speak. You're upset and angry about Angelus's return, something you can't control, not at Spike." Giles's gaze raked the vampire next. "As far as you, I know enough about guilt to know that it is not an easy thing to come to terms with. You may be finding it simpler to deny than to deal with it, which is ultimately your business, but you won't be able to keep that up forever. Not if you want to find any kind of peace with yourself." Giles, rant finished, seemed to sag as he pulled off his glasses and rubbed at his eyes.

Perfect silence reigned for a few seconds until Cordelia extended timidly, "Wow, you've really learned how to give a pep talk, Giles. If you had done that in high scholl we would have kicked a lot more demon ass."

Giles chuckled lightly in spite of himself. "Thank you, Cordelia, for your own special brand of insight."

"No problem." Cordelia gave him her first genuine smile of the night. A ringing sound began from her jacket pocket. The brunette jumped, blushing a bit, and dug out the cellular phone. "Forgot I had it," she said sheepishly. Cordelia lifted the phone to her ear. "Hello? Gunn, is that you? No, the connection just sucks. Oh. Are you sure? All right, we'll be ready. Thanks." The brunette disconnected and looked at them. "Kate's dead. The last Gunn knew, Angelus was on his way back to good old  Sunnydale."

A brach snapped off to her left and Buffy immediately spun towards it and tensed. Contrary to its name, Restfield Cemetary was one of the busiest graveyards in Sunnydale when it came to vampire production. If she didn't watch herself she may get a cruel reminder that her former lover wasn't the only set of fangs she needed to watch out for.

"You never change, do you? Same old route."

Buffy immediately whirled to face the owner of the voice. Spiked hair, deep, fathomless eyes, high cheekbones. Her Angel. *No,* Buffy hastily corrected herself, *not your Angel. He hasn't been for over a year and never will be again. Angelus is just a vampire.* She shifted the grip into a more sure  grip and smiled icily. "Everyone changes, Angelus. Your little mind games  don't have quite the same punch they used to."

"But I'll bet this does." Angelus's fist swung sharply towards her mouth and Buffy was caught too unawares to duck. Bright pain exploded throughout her mouth and she tasted her own blood on her tongue. Buffy swung to the side to avoid being struck again, using the change in balance to drive a sharp kick into Angelus's midsection. There was enough force behind it to throw the vampire back a few paces and drive so much useless air from his lungs, but he retaliated by grabbing Buffy's ankle and twisting it sharply. She rolled with it to avoid having her leg snapped, landing painfully on her back. Before she could lunge back up Angelus was looming over her.

He easily blocked her stake when she attempted to send it into his heart. "Oh, my. You haven't forgotten your darling Angel quickly, haven't you?"

"I'll never forget him." Buffy jumped up and drove Angelus back with fists and feet. "Conveniently, you're not him."

"So being blonde hasn't shaken up your mental faculties too badly." Angelus blocked a punch and delivered one of his own that snapped Buffy's head back. "Thank you for stating the obvious. I'm *not* him." A soft sound drew Angelus's attention to the side for a moment. "Look at this. We have a playmate."

Buffy followed his gaze to the blonde who was watching them, too stunned to make any move towards saving herself. "T-" Buffy cut herself off, not wanting to use Tara's name and alert Angelus to the fact that this was a friend. "Get out of here!"

The moment of distraction cost her. Angelus backhanded her fiercely, sending Buffy crashing headfirst into a tombstone. She crumpled to the ground, stunned. Angelus made a tsking noise and turned towards Tara. "It's always been like that, I'm afraid. Two minutes of action and she's down for the count." Angelus came within inches of Tara, intending to earn himself a quick meal before returning to the issue of the Slayer, when a strange tingling passed over his skin. It was not entirely unlike receiving a mild electric shock. Angelus paused, a frightening smile passing over his lips. "Well, well, well," the vampire drawled, "here's our little spellcaster. And I thought I was going to have to go kill some gypsies."

Tara's eyes were already comically large. At Angelus's words they threatened to fall right out of her head. "I d-didn't mean t-t-to," she managed. "I swear."

"I'm sure you didn't," Angelus said soothingly. "So tell you what, I promise to kill you quickly." He leaned to sink his fangs into Tara's neck when the tiny form of Buffy collided with his ribs, sending them both crashing to the ground. The two combatants rolled to their feet and faced each other with fire flashing in their eyes.

"My friends stay out of this, Angelus," Buffy ordered. "It's between you and me."

"Oh, so she *is* a friend of yours. Might want to watch her when she starts casting spells."

"I know you're going to try to hurt my friends to hurt me." Buffy set her lips in a hard line. "Well, I'm telling you now: do that and I promise your death will not be pleasant."

Angelus actually laughed. "Dear little Buffy. Here's a newsflash. The world doesn't revolve around you, babe. In fact, sometimes it has nothing to do with your at all. What can I say? I just felt like coming home." He kicked the stake from Buffy's grasp, nearly breaking her wrist in the process, and in less than a second had disapeared.

Buffy shook out her aching wrist and turned to Tara. Angelus's words had cut deeper than she thought even he knew and she needed to exorcise those feelings on someone. "What did he mean, watch you while you're casting spells?" she demanded.

"It's all my fault," Tara responded tearfully. "The whole thing is my fault."

The resentment drained from Buffy in an instant, leaving her feeling petty and mean. "Come on," Buffy said tonelessly, reaching out to take Tara's arm. "I think Giles will want to hear this."

They walked away in the darkness that watched them and smiled.

Once upon a time Spike had had a young woman he fancied. Before his fateful meeting with his dark princess she had been his whole world. She had flashing green eyes and quick temper that she used to mask a far gentler soul. William had fallen for her hard enough to make him seriously consider returning to a less violent way of life, or at the very least giving an honest go at trying. And after tasting Drusilla's enchanted blood he had not hesitated in killing her.

* * * * * *

"William? Are you all right?" For once Anna's eyes held no fire, only concern. "You seem troubled."

He leaned jauntily against the door frame, flashing her a smile that still had a ways to go before it became Spike's cold grin. "I've never been more clearheaded in my life. Come on now, Anna, do you plan on letting me stand out here in the cold all night?"

"I'm certain you've had plenty of drink to warm you," Anna retorted, but she seemed more at ease to see him falling back into old patterns.

"Of a sort," William agreed vaguely. "Well?"

The faintest hint of a frown returned to Anna's face, but she stood to the side and opened the door wider nonetheless. "You're always welcome here, Will, you know that."

William stepped easily across the threshold as he felt the barrier vanish. "So very glad to hear it." He tilted Anna's face up towards his and looked into her arresting emerald eyes. "Deep enough to drown in," he murmured before capturing her lips in a crushing kiss. Anna returned it with a vengeance, bringing her arms up to wrap around his neck and secure him closer to her. She shivered very slightly as his skin and hers touched.

"You're so cold."

"Just from being outside," William assured her. He quickly returned to kissing his Anna, peppering them across her face and neck, hovering over her pulsepoint for several seconds before forcing himself to move on. William's fingers began to nimble unwork the back of Anna's dress.

"Hey, hey." Anna pulled away and smoothed at her roughened hair. "Slow it down there."

"Oh, Anna," William said, stepping so close they were nose to nose. "Don't get modest on me now. I've seen everything you have to show before, remember?"

"What?" Anna's face registered one precious moment of pain before she clamped down on it. Her lips set into a line so hard that they nearly became invisible. "You've obviously been drinking. Go home, sleep it off, then come back in the morning so I can give you a whap on the head to add to your hangover."

William laughed. "I'm afraid I don't really handle mornings very well anymore." He leaned down and whispered huskily into her ear. "And I can assure you, ducks, this is no hangover."

Anna hastily backed away. "Will, you're scaring me."

For the first time in his newborn life as a vampire William allowed his face ot shift and his demon to come to the surface. His vision leapt into sudden clarity. Every detail made itself known to his new vampire eyes, the silken strands of Anna's hair, the individual fibers of her worn dress, the sweat just beginning to dot her brow and collarbone. Magnificent.

"Oh, my God." Anna's hands flew up to her mouth. "William, what happened to you?"

"I died," Spike answered easily. "Agrees with me, don't you think?"

He was sure she would try to run then. William wanted the adrenaline that would add flavor to the blood's richness and fun to the kill. He never expected her to master her fear of the obviously unholy thing before her.

Anna reached out to tentatively touch his cheek, ran her thumb across the ridges on his brow. "Oh, William." Her voice bordered on a sob. "You never deserved this."

William recovered from his shock at Anna's boldness and knocked her hand away. "Don't be so sure of that, little girl," he snarled. "You won't be my first kill as a vampire *or* as a human."

Anna, who never cried except under the most extreme of circumstances, had tears in her eyes. "I forgave you for that," she said hoarsely, "because you wanted to change. I saw that there is a good man inside you."

"Was," William corrected her. "Was." Not wanting to listen to her words any longer, or abide the feelings of humanity they were resurrecting in him, William chose that moment to strike. He seized Anna roughly about her shoulders and lowered his face to her neck. Anna didn't cry out, though she did shudder at the pain and the betrayal. William drew as hard as he could on the fluttering jugular vein. Mouthful after mouthful of sweet, enriching blood poured down William's throat until he sensed that his former love could give no more. Rather than simply letting the body fall, something came over him, making William instead lay Anna gently down on the floor. He smoothed back some strands of her rich brown hair, already coming to hate the human weaknesses that still resided within him.

William expected Anna's still open eyes to reflect fear, anger, betrayal. Instead he saw... forgiveness? Anna's cherished face was beautiful even in death, if pale. William brushed her eyes closed with the tips of his fingers. "To eternity, my dear...."

* * * * * * *

Spike awoke all at once, gasping. "....Willow?"

  He was gasping for breath he no longer needed, a habit he thought he had
  discarded less than a year after his turning. Spike looked down at his hands
  and realized they were shaking.

  The look of complete and utter panic that still lingered on Spike's face was
  enough to worry Willow. "Spike?" She got up and touched his cheek very
  lightly. "Are you all right?"

  Spike jumped at the contact and blinked a few times to reorient himself.
  "I'll be fine," he lied. "Just give me a few minutes." Spike thought back
  over the last few seconds of the dream. He had been vitally sure it was
  Willow's body he had been laying so gently on the floor, but that made no
  sense. Anna's hair was a rich coffee brown, not red, and while her eyes were
  green, they carried enough gray to remind one of seafoam. Willow's were the
  color of pine.

  The redhead began to fidget, feeling uneasy under the intense, stormy gaze.
  "So, um.." she began, mostly to fill the silence, "I haven't been able to
  figure out what happened." Spike gave her a look. "Okay, yeah, so it's
  obvious what *happened*. I haven't been able to figure out *why.*" The
  blond vampire continued staring at her. "And that's very unnerving, by the
  way."

  Spike abruptly broke gaze and shook his head. "Sorry." He would look at
  Willow and somehow see Anna's face at the same time. It didn't make any
  sense. He stood and stepped close enough that Willow had to tilt her face
  upwards to look into his eyes.

  "Spike...? What are you....?"

  "Shh," Spike silenced her both with his voice and with a finger laid gently
  across her lips and continued studying her face. Willow found herself
  becoming aware in a wholly feminine way of how close their lips were to each
  other. And Spike was far from bad looking...

  *His hair used to be light brown, with streaks of gold that gleamed whenever
  the sun struck it. William used to tell me that I could always find the good
  in him, when he himself was sure it was buried too deep to ever be seen
  again. He was never this hard when I knew him, my lover, my Will. Time and
  the demon have done that to him.*

  Willow gasped and nearly collapsed as she came back to herself. Spike
  gripped her arms, steadying her, all the while asking, "Willow, what's wrong?
  C'mon, ducks, you have to talk to me, let me know if you're all right."

  "I..." Willow struggled to find her voice again. What had just happened? It
  had been so real, like there was a whole nother person in her head alongside
  her.

  Buffy came through the front door, Tara trailing uncertainly along behind.
  The Slayer paused a moment upon seeing Willow and Spike's close proximity to
  each other, but she said nothing. Willow was grateful. She couldn't explain
  to herself what the strong emotion that had come over her was, let alone to
  anyone else.

  Cordelia came out of the kitchen, a glass of water in hand, and halted when
  she saw Tara. "Hi," the brunette said without preamble. "Who are you?"

  "This is Tara," Buffy said softly, obviously struggling to control her
  emotions, "and she thinks she can explain what happened to Spike and Angel."

  Willow stepped away from Spike, tucking a few strands of hair behind her ears
  self-consciously. "Yeah," Willow said, "I think that might be a good idea."

  Tara still sniffled occassionally, but for the most part was over her bout of
  hysterics in the cemetary. "It was s-supposed to be a balancing spell," she
  said. "I haven't been able to sleep or concentrate lately and I thought this
  would help. I didn't mean any harm by it, I swear-"

  "Tara," Giles said, harsher than he intended. He immediately regretted it as
  he saw the young woman flinch. "I'm sorry. We know that you didn't mean for
  any of this to happen, but the fact of the matter is, it did. The most we
  can do now is correct the mistake as soon as possible."

  Tara nodded and took several deep, shuddering breaths. "Hecate, I give thee
  honor and obesiance, heed me this gift," she began softly. "Return the
  balance that has beens shifted. Give back what has been altered."

  Willow winced. She could see how Tara had read the spell to mean returning
  the blance to herself, but that was just it. The spell was so damn vague
  that it could be read to mean virtually anything.

  Giles mumbled something indecipherable and paced restlessly about the living
  room.

  "Share time, Giles," Buffy said tiredly. "What does it mean?"

  The Watcher halted and rubbed his eyes in exhaustion. They had all been on
  considerably short sleep rations over the past twenty-four hours. "The
  theory of reincarnation states that a soul does not immediately acheive peace
  after dying. Rather, it is born into another body and begins a new life,
  most of the time with no knowledge of its previous existence. Since Spike
  has memories of Angelus's existence, it would appear that at some point after
  Angel died his soul was reborn into Spike's body. When Angel's soul was
  restored the first time Spike was no longer in possession of his soul, so it
  didn't matter, but now..." Giles shrugged. "Well, we all see the effects
  now."

  "So Angel doesn't have a soul that he needs and Spike has a soul that he
  doesn't want. Now we need to fix it." Buffy glanced towards Spike. "Right?"

  "Yeah," Spike said quickly. "I would like this damn thing out of me and back
  to its proper owner, thank you very much." He was trying a bit too hard to
  return his voice to its old arrogant tone, pretending that his emotions were
  exactly the same as they had been a day ago. Spike glanced towards Willow,
  still standing next to him. And judging by the look on her face, all was not
  well in Red's mind, either.

  Giles glanced towards the clock. "It's nearly dawn," he said. "Angelus will
  use the day to rest and so should we."

  "Giles," Willow protested. "I'm good for a couple more hours of research,
  now that we know what we are dealing with."

  "Not if you're so tired that you miss something vitally important. We can
  all meet back this afternoon and begin again." The others waited until the
  first of dawn's pink light peeked over the horizon, then scattered to their
  seperate homes and hotel rooms. Giles turned to Spike. "I suppose you'll be
  spending the day on my couch again?"

"If you'll have me."

Giles nodded aquesiance and began climbing the stairs to his loft. About halfway up he paused and turned back to the vampire. "When Angelus killed Jenny, did...did she suffer?"

Spike felt a quick flash of pain, even though the crime had not been his. "No," he answered softly, "it was over too quickly for her to feel any pain."

Giles nodded faintly. "Well, there's that at least. Thank you." He countinued to his room.

  Spike lingered somewhere between dozing and actual sleep for most of the day,
  finally rising sometime around early afternoon. The hunger in him had grown
  to a near uncontrollable level. A rumbling growl rose from Spike's chest.
  God, he couldn't do this. He couldn't stay there and pop off sarcastic
  comments and act as if the soul wasn't affecting him, because is so
  definitely was. It was, and he hadn't the faintest conception under heaven
  or hell on how to deal with it.

  The hunger finally drove him into the kitchen, where he discovered a pint jar
  of blood resting on the top shelf of the refrigerator. Giles must have
  placed it there sometime during the course of the day. Spike felt a brief
  rush of gratitude for the watcher as he lifted the jar to his lips. The
  vampire gagged faintly from the back of his throat. It wasn't so much the
  flat, dead taste of the blood -he'd been dealing with that for the better
  part of a year- as it was the realization that this had once been the life of
  a creature. 'It was just a sodding cow,' Spike argued with himself. 'The
  damned creature probably didn't even know what hit it until its brains were
  dribbling out on the floor.' Still, Spike found himself drinking only enough
  to take the edge off his hunger.

  Willow came silently into the flat. Her expression was troubled and she went
  straight to the heap of books resting on Giles' coffee table. Spike came
  into the living room and watched her for a moment, a puzzled frown crossing
  his own face. Where normally Willow could be counted on for a cool, logical
  head, now her movements were almost angry as she turned the pages. "Are you
  all right, Red?"

  She gave him a sharp glance. "Fine, I'm just freaking fine." Willow slammed
  the book closed and tossed it aside. "And don't call me Red. Oddly enough,
  I do happen to have a name."

  "Fine. Are you all right, An-" Spike abruptly snapped his mouth closed.
  No, not Anna. Anna was dead. He had killed her. The newly consumed blood
  pitched in his stomach and Spike resolutely closed his eyes until the nausea
  passed. He hadn't condoned self-pity in himself when he was human, wasn't
  about to start now. "Willow. Are you all right, Willow?"

  Willow was certain he had been about to call her about another name, one that
  was familiar when it had no right to be. "I think I already answered that
  question."

  "Yes, but you lied, so it doesn't count."

  Willow glowered at the handsome vampire. *He got in a tavern brawl virtually
  every night and every night you told yourself, 'This is it. I'm not patching
  him up again.' But he would lean against the door to your little flat and
  flash you those eyes until you felt as if you were kicking a puppy. He could
  be tender with you, your Will could. It was a side of him that he didn't let
  anyone else see.*

  "Damn it!" The expletive exploded from Willow's lips and she hurled the book
  across the room in frustration. "What is going on?!"

  "Willow, Willow, calm down." Spike reached out to touch Willow's arm, which
  only served to send fresh memories crashing through her. The redhead burst
  into tears. Spike drew her to him and she lay her head on his shoulder, her
  tears wetting his shirt. "Giles!" Spike called. "Something's wrong, get
  down here!"

  Giles came into the living room and Xander came through the front door at the
  same instant. "Buff called and filled me in-" Xander began, halting abruptly
  when he saw one of his best friends since childhood sobbing in the arms of
  their long time enemy. "And apparently she didn't explain nearly enough."
  Xander glanced towards the Watcher. "Uh, Giles?"

  Giles paid him no attention. "Willow?" he called softly to the young witch,
  trying to disentangle her from Spike. Willow refused to come at first,
  clinging to what felt right even though she didn't know where the emotions
  were coming from, but after a few seconds she allowed herself to be pulled
  away. For his own part Spike was reluctant to let her go, rebel feelings of
  protectiveness rising in him. The faintest hint of a growl rumbled out of
  his chest. He had had about all he could take of outside forces screwing
  around with his head.

  Xander sat next to his friend on the couch, rubbing her back and soothing her
  while her tears dwindled. He cast Spike a black look. "What did you do to
  her?"

  "I didn't do bloody anything," Spike snapped back. "She was upset to begin
  with and then she just started crying."

  Willow made some effort to get herself under control. "I'm okay now."

  "Willow, what happened?" Giles asked her.

  The redhead shrugged. "I'm not entirely sure," she answered. All day I kept
  having these dreams where I was someone else, and then I would wake up and it
  kept happening. I had one right before I went into my nice little come
  apart."

  An image painted itself across Spike's mind, one of Willow's delicate
  features superimposing themselves across Anna's strong and oft times unlikely
  beauty. Their eyes merged until the single green gaze was all that could be
  seen. "Someone named Anna?" he heard himself asking from far away.

  Willow jerked as if she had just received a shock. She stared at Spike.
  "How do you know that?"

  "Anna was a bar maid," Spike continued softly, not answering Willow's
  question, "at a tavern I frequented. It was a rough place. It was a rough
  place. I actually got this in a tavern brawl there." Spike absently touched
  the scar on his eyebrow before he went on. "Working in a place like that
  tends to make a person hard and Anna liked to let people think it had done
  the same to her, but she wasn't really like that. Anna just had so much life
  in her that she knew it couldn't survive in a place like that." The vampire
  paused a moment, the muscles of his jaw working. "I loved her, became a
  vampire, and killed her."

  Willow's eyes gradually widened. By the time Spike finished telling the
  story they threatened to pop out of her head. "Giles?" she asked softly, her
  voice tinged with the faintest hint of panic. "What's going on?"

  "I'm not sure," the Watcher admitted. "This is the last thing I had
  expected."

  "Could it be the same thing that is affecting Spike?" Everyone was surprised
  to hear the question coming from Xander. He gave them a mildly irritated
  look. "I told you, the Buffster filled me in. On occasion I do have a
  genuine idea."

  "Of course, I apologize." Giles recovered somewhat. "That is certainly a
  possibility."

  "What is?" Willow asked warily.

  "It's entirely plausible that, as surely as Spike carries a reincarnated soul
  in his body, Willow carries one in hers."

  "What?" Willow shook her head. "No, I don't think so, Giles. My soul is
  mine and mine alone, not some tavern wench's."

  Spike shook his head and couldn't help a soft laugh. It felt indescribably
  good to have a genuine laugh spilling past his lips. Willow gave him a look.

  "What is it?"

  "You're more like Anna than you think." Spike's grin only grew wider at the
  glare he received.

  "Anyway, you got the point," Willow said, turning back to Giles. "My soul is
  mine. End of story." She squirmed uncomfortably on the couch, still feeling
  Spike's gaze. Couldn't the vampire find something else to stare at, say, a
  nice, vein-filled puppy somewhere?

  "Willow, this is quite a lot to take in, I know," Giles was saying. With
  some difficulty Willow forced herself to pay attention again. "But it does
  seem to be a very definite possibility. Take a bit of time to think it over.
  When this is over, with a little luck everything will go back to normal."
  As soothing as Giles words were meant to be, Willow couldn't quite make
  herself believe them.

  'I think it's a little too late for that, Giles,' Willow caught herself
  thinking, finally giving up and meeting the midnight blue gaze of the
  vampire. 'I think things are progressing way too fast to consider going back
  to normal.'

  "It's close to dark. We should head over to Giles'." Wesley let the
  curtains fall back across the window of the hotel room. He glanced towards
  the slim brunette, who was sitting on the edge of the bed she had chosen and
  staring into space. "Cordelia, are you all right?"

  "No." She shook her head and gave him a shaky smile. "Sorry, I'm not used
  to being this much of a wimp. I just keep thinking, what if we can't reverse
  this and we have to..." Cordelia set her lips and forced herself to go on,
  channeling just enough of Queen C to give herself strength. "Introduce
  Angelus to a dust buster?"

  "Don't feel guilty for being upset," Wesley said gently. "When someone you
  trusted turns on you, it's never easy or pleasant to deal with." His eyes
  flickered briefly with secrets and pain he had yet to share. "As to the
  curse ... we simply have to wait and play our cards as we are dealt them.
  Angel has a destiny, surely whatever forces govern that will not allow it to
  be thrown to the wayside."

  Cordelia snorted. "No, the 'vampire with a soul' has a destiny. Angel
  doesn't. And if the world is left up to Spike, then I'm very, very afraid."

  "I suppose we have to have faith."

  "That, my friend, is why I have always sucked at organized religion."
  Cordelia stood and suddenly fell to her knees, yelping in shock and pain.
  Images ran rampant through her mind. They were too chaotic to be understood
  at first and it took a few seconds for the young Seer's mind to catch up and
  place them in their proper order.

  *Angelus was leaning jovially across the counter of a trailer that had been
  converted into a magick shop, the shelves littered with herbs and jars and
  books so ancient that they made some of Giles' look like the previous week's
  TV Guide. The shopkeeper pulled back very slightly, obviously a bit afraid
  of the tall man. Angelus smirked and pressed in closer, eliminating any
  illusions of personal space. The vampire's lips moved, asking a question,
  and though Cordelia couldn't hear the tone that was being used she got the
  sense that it was jovial. With Angelus that was often more dangerous than
  his anger. The shopkeeper backed away slowly. His lips moved in response.
  Whatever he said must have angered Angelus, because the vampire lunged across
  the counter and grabbed the man by the throat, dragging him forward until
  they were face to face. The man struggled futilely with the vampire, one
  hand disappearing under the counter for a moment. He brought up a vial of
  holy water in a vicious arc and it splashed across Angelus' face, neck, and
  hands. The vampire snarled in pain and rage and hurled his prize backwards.
  The poor man struck a row of shelves and collapsed into a boneless heap. A
  peculiar smile curving his lips, Angelus carefully wiped off the holy water
  and advanced. *

  "I'm okay," Cordelia gasped as she came back to herself, pushing Wesley away.
  She may love Wesley like a brother, but he could raise overprotectiveness to
  a whole new level. "I'll be fine, I'm okay." She took a few more moments to
  breathe and collect herself, then said, "Give me the phone, Wes." He did so
  and and the Seer quickly punched in Giles' number. She drummed her fingers
  impatiently on her knee and waited for the Watcher to pick up. "Giles, it's
  Cordy. I just had a vision. Yeah, you guessed it, about Angelus. He either
  already has or is going to attack a magick shop on the edge of town. I
  wasn't able to get the name, but it was being run out of a double-wide
  trailer that had been converted into a shop. Does that ring any bells with
  you? Okay. Good, we'll meet you there." There was a lengthy pause, in
  which Cordelia narrowed her eyes and shook her head, as if Giles could see
  either action. "Nuh-uh, we're not just going to sit safely on the sidelines.
  You know why Angelus was able to do as much damage as he did the last time?
  Because Buffy insisted on fighting him alone and if she's the one that told
  you to say that, then you can tell Little Miss Slayer this: Angel was one of
  my closest friends and Buffy's not the only one who wants to whale the shit
  out of this, this thing that's wearing his body." Another pause occurred and
  a very brief smile flashed across Cordelia's face. "Thank you. Like I said,
  we'll meet you there." She hung up the phone.

  "Seems like you've gotten some of your fire back," Wesley ventured, arching
  his eyebrows slightly.

  "That's me, always full of suprises." Cordelia managed a tiny, weak smile as
  she put on her jacket. "Come on. I'm feeling the need to kick Angelus' ass,
  or at the very least watch Buffy do it."

  Willow had practicaly ended up in Spike's lap on the cramped ride to the
  magick shop, and even though she was now standing several feet he could still
  feel the heat searing him. Judging by the rigid lines of her shoulders and
  the way she carefully kept her face turned away, Willow was feeling the not
  entirely unpleasant tension as well.

  "Wait out here," Buffy said curtly as she exited Giles' car. "If Angelus is
  in there I'll need room to manuever." The cold, authoritative tone didn't
  match well with the nervous way she kept weaving the stake through her
  fingers or the rapid pace of her heart, detectable only to Spike's vampire
  ears. He fidgeted a moment, his instincts at war with the soul that rested
  uneasily in his chest.

  "I'll go in with you."

  Buffy widened her eyes but said nothing. She pulled a spare stake from her
  jacket pocket and handed it to Spike. The vampire took it and silently
  followed the Slayer into the shop, the caustic mess that had become his mind
  settling somewhat now that he had a purpose. If he could stop Angelus, even
  temporarily, maybe...Spike threw an almost involuntary glance at Willow, who
  looked both sensual and ethereal with the moon's cold light gleaming from her
  hair. Maybe it would be a step towards the man Anna had believed he could
  be. He didn't think about the fact that only hours before his sole focus had
  been on removing the soul from his being, not obeying its urges.

  The fact that the inside of the shop was entirely dark did not ease any of
  Buffy's tension. She hesitated just inside the door, searching blindly along
  with wall for the light switch. A cool set of lips pressed themselves to her
  ear and Buffy spun, nearly introducing Spike to Mr. Pointy before she
  realized it was him. Not Angelus.

  "Slayer," Spike murmered directly into his once enemies ear, "I smell blood.
  Not a lot, but someone was injured here." Buffy nodded her acknowledgement.

  "Come now, I knew the moment you walked in the door." Spike stiffened in
  hatred and recognition. His game face slid easily to the surface while his
  eyes roamed restlessly about the room, searching for the true owner of the
  soul her possessed. "Surely we can cast off all this stealth nonsense."

  "I agree," Buffy said haughtily. Even though he could never bring himself to
  say it to her face, Spike had to admire the Slayer her guts. "A
  straight-forward ass kicking sounds much more appealing, dontcha think?"
  Buffy's questing hand finally located the switch and filled the trailer with
  light.

  Angelus lounged against the wall, smirking at his alter ego's love and his
  obsession. The vampire's eyes registered surprise at seeing his grandchilde,
  but the silken smile grew wider. Buffy wanted to punch it off his face.
  "And you brought help." When now wiseass comment came from Spike, Angelus
  raised his eyebrow. "What, no kiss for Grandpa? I'm hurt."

  "Not yet." Buffy shifted her grip on the stake. "But, hey, we just got
  here." She could hear her heartbeat fluttering wildly in her ears and knew
  that Angelus could, too.

  "I've always been more of a giver." Angelus saw the mucles tightening in
  Buffy's arms and threw himself to the side. Her fist punched out at the air
  where he had been. Angelus laughed and knocked Buffy heavily into the
  counter by backhanding her across the face. The Slayer recovered quickly,
  but even so Angelus was much too close for comfort. One hand twisted her
  wrist sharply, forcing Buffy to drop the stake or risk a broken arm, and the
  other wrapped itself crushingly around her throat. Buffy gagged and
  struggled fruitlessly for air. She struck out at Angelus with her free hand
  and even brought her knee up in the fighting move handed down from female to
  female for eons, but Angelus didn't even seem to feel it. He simply
  tightened his grip and gazed at Buffy with eyes that were a cruel parody of
  Angel's gentle brown. "You were more of a challenge last time, Buff. I'm
  disapointed in you." Buffy gasped against her opponent's ever tightening
  grip.

  "Then you'll hate me, mate." Spike swung the chair he'd lifted in a heavy
  arc that ended with the wood shattering against the bak of his grandsire's
  head. Angelus staggered forward against Buffy, momentarily flattening them
  both to the counter. Buffy sucked fresh air into her lungs and brought her
  knee straight up again, this time with appreciably better results. Angelus
  gagged sharply and moved back far enough for Buffy to shove him off of her.
  Buffy glanced towards the blonde vampire, unable to believe that of all the
  people on the planet he was the one who wound up saving her ass. Spike was
  holding up a broken peice of chair as a stake. Yellow flashed in and out of
  his eyes as he tried to keep himself under control. The demon part of him
  was screaming for the fight. Perhaps more disturbing, so was some measure of
  the man.

  Angelus looked his grandchilde up and down with a critical eye, realizing for
  the first time that something was different. A cruel smile crossed his face
  as the connection was made. "Quite the interesting situation we have here,"
  he smirked. "So you've claimed my title, eh?" Spike said nothing, though
  his knuckles turned white from the grip he was exerting on the makeshift
  stake.

  For all his bluster and bravado, Angelus was growing just the tiniest bit
  antsy. The Slayer and Spike working together was not something he had
  anticipated. The emerging odds were far from in his favor. Angelus smiled
  and spread his hands, moving slowly towards the door. Buffy had picked up
  another piece of the demolished chair and was also preparing to use it as a
  stake. Faint purple bruises were already beginning to appear in a ring
  around her throat. Her eyes were flat and cold.

  "Get out," Buffy ordered softly, "before one of us turns you into dust."

  "Anything you wish, fair lady." Angelus mimed tipping a hat to the both of
  them, winking at Spike. "Having fun with that new soul of yours yet?" He
  whirled smoothly to exit.

  And ran directly into a shocked and angry Willow Rosenberg.

  The trailer was completely and totally silent. Willow watched it with her
  heart residing happily in her throat, waiting for a crash, a shout, *any*
  sign that the people inside were still alive and not currently lying in their
  own intestines. Willow shivered. 'Nice imagery, Rosenberg,' she told
  herself. 'Way to freak yourself out. Buff'll be fine. She's gotten the
  upper hand over Angelus before, and now she has help. Except it isn't Buffy
  you're worried about, is it? Well, yeah, Buffy, 'cause she's your best
  friend and all, but not *just* Buffy, 'cause there's also a certain
  vampire-Good God, I'm babbling to myself.' Willow shivered sharply, coming
  back into reality. Not a good time to be woolgathering. Still, if she was
  willing to be honest with herself Spike was commanding more than a small
  portion of her thoughts. The pull that had existed since his soul had been
  restored to him had only grown stronger when she discovered that she was, or
  had been, or whatever, a nineteenth century girl named Anna.

  "Something's wrong," Willow finally said, wrapping her arms protectively
  about herself. She looked at Giles pleadingly. "Should we go in? To help
  somehow?"

  Giles shook his head. "We'd only be in the way. But wait for it, Willow.
  Just wait until he's out in the open." A glimmer of Ripper shown in his eyes
  and was gone again in the very same moment. There were still several things
  left unresolved between Angelus and the darker side of Giles.

  The plan was for Buffy and Spike to weaken Angelus enough so that they, along
  with Willow, Giles, Cordelia, and Wesley could hopefully subdue him. No one
  was overly optimistic about their chances.

  Slipping into her own worries for a few more seconds, Willow took some steps
  closer to the door of the trailer/shop, closer than was really wise.
  "Willow, perhaps you'd better-" Wesley began to say from behind the redhead,
  but before he could finish there was a snarl and the sound of a crash from
  inside the trailer. Willow froze. Should she back away or jump in the
  middle, hoping that somehow she would be able to remain clearheaded enough to
  cast a spell? 'William, William, William,' a woman's voice whispered
  insistently from inside Willow's mind. 'Help him. Please help him!'

  "Damn it, stop!" Willow cried. "Leave me alone!" Before she even said it
  Willow knew that wasn't going to be possible. The voice *was* her.

  "Willow," Giles said quietly, laying his hand on her arm. She shook himself
  off. Taking another step closer, she prayed to every to every deity she
  could think of that were friends were all right.

  The door to the trailer was thrown open hard enough that it rebounded off the
  outside wall and nearly struck the person opening it in the face. Willow
  began to back up hastily, instinctively realizing that she was not meeting up
  with a friend. She made it about two paces before a large male form moved
  from the doorway and out onto the open grass. Angelus slammed into Willow
  and nearly knocked her sprawling. While the little Wiccan regained her
  balance Angelus smiled, realizing that fortune was doing the same back at him.

  "Hello, little bird," Angelus purred at her. Willow whirled to retreat to
  her human friends, standing together a short ways off like the sheep they
  were, unable to help and knowing it. Funny, really. Angelus wrapped his
  hand around Willow's upper arm and quickly jerked her backwards. The
  redhead's back slammed into Angelus' chest. He brushed her silken hair out
  of the way and whispered softly into her ear, "Do you remember the last time
  we were like this? Your fear is giving me the biggest feeling of déjà vu."

  Willow swallowed noisily. She remembered that night in junior year
  perfectly, how Angelus' cool fingers felt as they tightened on her neck.
  *"But she's so cute and innocent....it's a real turn on."* The memory
  transported Willow back to the school hallway, stripping away all the self
  confidence she thought she had built over the last two years. It was
  replaced by fear. Cold. Hard. Unyielding. A small whimper escaped from
  Willow's lips.

  Angelus chuckled at the sound of Willow's fear and a noise from behind him
  that was probably the Slayer moving into a better attack position. They
  seemed hesitant to stake him. Angelus wasn't interested in why, but he
  wasn't going to argue with good fortune. "What do you think, Slayer?" he
  addressed his former love. "Think you can move fast enough to take me down
  before I snap Willow's pretty neck? Sort of a coin toss, wouldn't you agree?"

  The noise behind him had not been the Slayer. Spike watched his grandsire
  seethingly. Buffy tried to launch past him and into Angelus. She was
  stopped by Spike roughly grabbing her shoulder and yanking her backwards.
  The implant twinged in warning and was ignored. A growl rumbled up in
  Spike's chest. Why weren't the others doing anything? Damn it, why wasn't
  *he* doing anything? Angelus leaned down to whisper something else into
  Willow's ear, and the part of Spike that refused to break connections with
  his demon snapped.

  Angelus heard no sound of warning before a weight struck him solidly in the
  small of his back. The vampire stumbled and went down, landing heavily on
  Willow. She squeaked and scrabbled wildly to get out from underneath him.
  Angelus made a lunge for his escaping prey but missed. He didn't get a
  second chance. Spike's first blow caught him solidly at the base of the
  neck, then the smaller vampire was dragging his grandsire up to his feet and
  punching furiously at his face. Angelus snarled and gave Drusilla's childe a
  backhand that knocked him back several feet. Spike sprang back up, snarling
  over his shoulder, "Slayer, if I'm going to get my ass kicked over here yours
  is going to get kicked with me."

  Buffy had been stunned by the sheer ferocity of Spike's attack. Having the
  good grace to look sheepish, she joined the blonde vampire. Angelus smiled.
  "Buffy, Buffy. You know you won't kill me."

  "I was able to do it before," Buffy said stiffly as she adopted a defensive
  stance.

  "Oh, but now there's a prophecy involved." Angelus clutched his hands
  theatrically over his heart. "Your dear Angel has a duty to the world."

  Buffy said nothing more, but a new determination marked her movements. She
  whirled towards her former lover, viciously kicking him in the jaw. Angelus
  snarled as the bone in his jaw cracked from the force. He turned to
  counterattack and found his every move being intercepted by the enraged
  Slayer. Buffy threw all her frustration and fear into the kicks and punches..
  For the early death guaranteed to all Slayers. For all the friends she had
  lost the last time Angelus had been free. The ones that she stood to lose
  now.

  Angelus staggered back under the onslaught, throwing up his arms to shield
  his face and neck. He turned to flee and found his path blocked by his
  damnable grandchilde. Spike's eyes glittered with a cold, determined fire
  that hadn't been there in the trailer. "Don't think so, Angelus."

  "No need to think," the larger vampire replied easily. His hands shot out
  and grabbed Spike by the throat, hurling him through the air.

  For the second time that night Willow was knocked down by a vampire slamming
  into her. The redhead grunted in pain as her back struck a rock. She
  started to push at Spike to get him off her, but stopped when her hands
  encountered the muscles of his chest. Spike glanced quickly into her eyes
  and started to get up. "Sorry."

  "No, it's all right, it's-" Willow started to say. She paused a moment, then
  took the hand Spike offered to help her up. Angelus had disappeared. "Thank
  you, by the way. For the flying tackle that you gave Angelus."

  "You could have been hurt." Spike shrugged it off. They were standing
  incredibly close to each other and both realized it at the same time but,
  rather than quickly stepping back and exploring the many shades of red her
  face could turn, Willow found herself tilting her face upwards. 'I'm an
  idiot.' But she still didn't move away. "I didn't want that," Spike
  continued softly, Willow's green eyes beginning to have an effect on him.
  "You to be hurt, I mean." Willow broke into a smile. It was she who Spike
  saw, hair gleaming in the washed-out light from the moon. And it was she,
  not some long dead apparition of Anna, that Spike leaned down to kiss.

  His lips were soft, Willow reflected, and remarkably cool. Far from
  unpleasant. Willow found herself opening her mouth to allow him entrance.
  Some dim part of her mind shouted at the injustice to Tara, who stood guilty
  of no crime other than the misreading of a spell, no matter the domino effect
  that it was having. Willow didn't listen. Spike's lips just felt so cool,
  so good, so ... right. For the first time since the mess had started Willow
  felt like she was one person and one alone again, without two different
  voices clamoring for more attention than the other.

  Buffy felt her jaw begin striving valiantly to reach the ground and tried to
  close it. No use. Her best friend was standing in front of her and engaging
  in a lip lock that was quickly becoming passionate with one of Buffy's worst
  enemies, or at least former worst enemy. Buffy glanced up, halfway serious
  as she checked the sky to make sure it was indeed still where it was supposed
  to be.

  Cordelia summed up what the Slayer was thinking quite nicely. "Willow, have
  you gone INSANE?!"

  The redhead broke away from Spike with a jolt. Good Goddess, what had she
  just been doing? Willow pulled back and stared at Spike's chiseled features,
  into his blue-grey eyes. Her lips parted in shock.

  The unmasked surprise in Willow's frank gaze didn't bother Spike so much.
  Hell, he was feeling it himself, wasn't he? It was the regret. Willow
  regretted what had been the single most explosive kiss he had experienced in
  longer than he could remember.

  'And you expected what?' Spike asked himself harshly. Stupid, really, but
  there had been a few seconds there when he had thought the impulsive action
  might turn into more than that. Spike realized that his hands were still
  resting lightly on Willow's upper arms and he stepped away. "Sorry," he
  muttered. "Just...sorry."

  Willow absently rubbed the place on her arms where the vampire's fingers had
  been. "It's all right, I-" '-didn't particularly mind,' a rebel part of her
  brain urged her to say. Willow kicked that part sharply out of the way. She
  stepped back and looked down, trying to recover her thoughts. "The guy that
  owns this place. Is he all right, or did Angelus...?"

  "I'm fine." The voice, slightly weak but still very much in control, spoke
  from the doorway of the trailer. A man just beginning to make the downward
  slope from middle into old age leaned against the doorframe. Faded blue eyes
  regarded the group with a small amount of suspicion. "I'm guessing you folks
  have something to do with the vampire that came in here?" The man's hand was
  pressed tightly to his neck. Blood could be seen seeping from between his
  fingers.

  "Yes, we do." Giles stepped forward to help the man, who was beginning to
  look like collapse was becoming a distinct possibility. He was given a
  slightly irritable look.

  "And would I also be correct in assuming that this situation also had
  something to do with the supplies I sold a young woman a few days ago?" An
  affirmative nod from Giles. The man sighed and rubbed a hand over his face.
  "Then that makes me partially responsible, don't it? All right. It's too
  late in my life to make a habit of running away from responsibility now."

  "Can you help us stop him?" Buffy asked.

  "I might be able to." The man stepped back into the trailer and gestured
  after them to follow. Willow stumbled slightly going up the steps and felt
  Spike's cool hand in the small of her back, preventing her from falling. The
  witch couldn't help a pleasurable little shiver from the contact and cursed
  herself for it. 'Think of Tara,' Willow counseled herself. 'Remember her?
  She's never done anything to hurt you, so don't you stab her in the back
  now.' Willow conjured up an image of Tara's cool blue eyes in her mind ...
  but Tara's eyes were brown. Willow sighed. 'Damn it.'

  "My name's Allan Billings," the man said, going to a bookshelf lining one
  wall and pulling several books down. Billings looked up at them. "And I
  wish we were meeting under better circumstances." He nodded to Buffy and
  Spike. "I don't believe I've thanked the two of you yet. There's no doubt
  in my mind that you saved my life."

  Spike shrugged uncomfortably and Buffy tried to smile. "No need." She
  paused and visibly tried to draw herself together. "Now we need a plan of
  action. You give us all the information you can and we'll try to see where
  we stand."

  Billings nodded and took his hand gingerly away from his neck. The bleeding
  had mostly stopped. "A few days ago a young woman came into my shop for
  spellcasting supplies. I get more young people in here than you would
  expect, actually. Most of them don't really believe in any of the forces
  that they can't explain, so I sell them some incense and some pretty crystals
  and they go away thinking they're open-minded and chic." Billings paused,
  sighing softly. "It's so rare for anyone who truly believes to walk through
  that door that I automatically equated it with experience and good judgment."
  Another sigh. "My own foolishness and part of the reason this mess has
  gotten as far as it has."

  Buffy's face darkened. "You knew this was happening before Angelus showed
  up?" she asked sharply.

  "Young lady," Billings said in a tone with just a hint of condenscion in it,
  causing one of the Slayer's eyebrows to arch upwards, "I'd be surprised if
  every experienced witch in Sunnydale didn't feel the jolt when your friend
  cast that spell."

  "So you have some kind of other world radar. I'm happy for you, mate.
  Really," Spike said sarcastically. "That still doesn't help solve the
  problem we seem to be having."

  The shopkeeper gave Spike an impatient look. "You have no idea the magnitude
  of darkness that resides in this town."

  Losing his patience a bit, Spike allowed his true face to rise to the
  surface. "Actually, I think I do."

  Billings recoiled instinctively and Willow lay her hand lightly on the
  bleached vampire's arm. "Spike, be nice," she murmured.

  Buffy tried to look disapproving, but she couldn't help a smirk at the
  reaction Spike had caused. "You'd be amazed," she said to the shopkeeper,
  "and you seem to be forgetting that without us you would currently be an
  aftertaste in the back of Angelus' throat." She folded her arms over her
  chest. "We need the spell and the ingredients that you gave the girl who
  came in here, and we need you to be as exact as possible."

  Spike shifted, unconsciously bringing himself closer to Willow. Their
  shoulders brushed against each other and the warmth of Willow's skin reached
  him all the way through his tee shirt. If Willow felt the faint touch she
  didn't show it, focusing instead on the stare down currently taking place
  between Billings and the Slayer. Her vibrant hair was pulled back in a
  series of small clips, exposing the ivory skin of her throat. For once Spike
  found himself studying the beauty of the skin rather than seeing it as merely
  a fount for blood. Spike's eyes traveled slowly up to Willow's face, her
  sculpted cheekbones, her deep green eyes. Watching her, Spike was
  overwhelmed by a protectiveness that wasn't entirely dependent on his newly
  received and with luck soon to be departed soul.

  Willow felt Spike's gaze on her and a blush started to upwards from her neck
  as she remembered that scorching, unplanned kiss. The chaos that had
  followed since then and surely wasn't over yet had caused it to be pushed out
  of her friends' minds for the moment at least, but Willow's seemed determined
  to keep it on instant replay. 'Back to normal,' Willow swore to herself.
  'Get this whole mess sorted out and everything will go back to normal.'
  Willow chewed at her lip. Somehow she just didn't think that would happen.
  More so, she wasn't sure she wanted it to.

  Angelus watched the trailer that masqueraded as a respectable shop and
  glowered. He should have knocked Drusilla senseless for even suggesting that
  she be allowed to turn the insolent Englishman. A rumbling, dangerous growl
  issued from the vampire's throat as he kept his solitary guard. The blinds
  were drawn up on one of the windows, allowing Angelus a clear view of the
  trailer. Spike and the delectable little Willow were standing close
  together, their shoulders brushing. Any nearer and they could be mistaken
  for lovers.

  A cold light of realization came into Angelus' eyes. So Drusilla's little
  lap dog had found himself a new prospect. Judging from the way Willow wasn't
  exactly stumbling over herself to get away, Angelus was willing to bet the
  feelings were not entirely unrequited. A slow grin, velvety and murderous,
  spread across Angelus' face. With a development like this, what
  self-respecting vampire could pass this up? Angelus remained in the shadows,
  watching Spike, watching Willow.

  "So this will work?" Buffy asked, noting the sharpness in her voice but
  making no attempt to disguise it. She glanced down at the heavy spellbook
  resting on the table in front of her, then to Willow for confirmation. Her
  redheaded friend leaned over the book and read rapidly, her lips moving
  soundlessly over the words. Willow finally nodded.

  "It should."

  "Okay, then." Once a plan of action had been decided upon, Buffy
  straightened her shoulders, all Slayer again. "Sorry, Mr. Billings, I know
  you probably just want us out of your hair at this point, but we're gonna
  need some supplies." Billings only waved at them to take what they needed
  and within minutes the gang had their supplies and were striding rapidly back
  to Giles' car.

  Buffy and Spike froze at the same moment as a foreign presence started
  teasing the edges of their consciousnesses. An irritable curse exploded past
  the Slayer's lips. "Guys, get to the car," she ordered over her shoulder
  while whirling in the direction she thought the presence was.

  "A little off your game, aren't you, Buff?"

  With sudden horror Buffy realized her mistake. The voice was coming from
  *behind* her. She spun back around, preparing to leap between Angelus and
  her friends, only to see that her actions were coming several seconds too
  late. For the second time that night Angelus was standing behind Willow with
  his fingers wrapped tightly around her throat. A soft cry of fear for her
  friend and anger at the monster that was wearing Angel's face issued from
  Buffy's lips and she tried to leap forward. She was stopped by Spike's hand
  coming down heavily on her arm. Both winced, Buffy from the tightness of the
  vampire's grip and Spike from the brief flash of pain that the implant
  delivered. "Don't be stupid, Slayer."

  "Oh, she can't really help that," Angelus sneered. Buffy's eyes flashed but
  one look at the fear in Willow's face was all it took to make her hold her
  ground. "But that's probably a good idea. We wouldn't want by hand to get
  twitchy and break the little bird's neck, would we?" Angelus gestured
  towards Giles' car and the group with their spell supplies with his free
  hand. "I see you're planning on bringing back ole Angel Eyes, huh? And here
  I thought I might be growing on you."

  Buffy refused to rise to the sarcasm, instead pulling a stake from her jacket
  pocket. "You can let go of me," she said quietly to Spike. "I won't do
  anything until Willow is safe." A little reluctantly, the vampire released
  his grip. Buffy glanced from him and then back to Willow, remembering the
  kiss that there had been no time to dwell on. No real time now, for that
  matter. "May as well let her go, Angelus," Buffy ordered the dark vampire
  softly. "One way or another this spell is going to happen."

  Angelus' lips turned up in a cruel smile and he looked towards his
  grandchilde, who had not once taken his eyes off the young witch. "So it
  seems only fitting that I go out with a bang." Angelus wrapped his free arm
  around Willow's waist, swooped her up with a frightened cry on her part, and
  spun to disappear into the darkness.

  Had Spike's heart actually been beating, it would have stopped at Willow's
  first yelp of fear. He didn't stop to think, just charged off after Angelus.
  Billings' trailer was located on the very edge of Sunnydale and hovered on
  the edge of a large expanse of forested area. Lots of dark, shadowed places
  for bad things to happen. Behind him Spike could dimly hear Buffy yell to
  the others to start the spell and start it NOW, then come after him, cursing
  as she first plunged into the undergrowth, but the Slayer didn't matter.
  Nothing mattered except catching up to Angelus and doing whatever it took to
  prevent him from hurting Willow. Nothing. Not the undergrowth tearing at
  his skin, the blood starting to leak from the wounds, or even the soul that
  he was just beginning to get used to. Nothing other than the woman that he
  had loved and killed more than a lifetime before and was starting to love in
  this one.

  Willow.

  He forced himself faster.

  Angelus had released his death grip on Willow's throat, which was a good
  thing, because otherwise she probably would have passed out from lack of
  oxygen. As it was her breath was already coming in harsh pants. Angelus was
  dragging her along at breakneck speed, Willow's only managing to touch the
  ground once to every three of Angelus' strides.

  'I could die tonight,' Willow realized. The thought didn't bring a rush of
  fresh fear like she expected it to. Rather, a blanket of calm and clarity
  fell over Willow and the heady feeling of adrenaline began to subside. She
  was going to die if she didn't do anything. Therefor, it would probably be a
  good idea for her to get her ass in gear.

  Willow dug her heels in and swallowed back her yelp of pain when Angelus kept
  going, causing her ankle to slam into a rock and nearly break. "Let go of
  me, you demented bastard!" she railed at him, for the moment choosing to
  ignore the fact that angering the partially unhinged vampire probably wasn't
  the wisest course of action she could take. It was a choice, and that had to
  be better than doing nothing at all. Willow swung her arm around and socked
  Angelus as hard as she could in the throat. "That means now, dumbass!" She
  figured Anna would have been proud.

  "You little bitch!" Angelus froze in his tracks and grabbed Willow's
  retreating wrist. He wrenched her wrist hard and a dry cracking sound
  reached Willow's ears. This time she could not help her sound of pain.

  * * * * * *

  With some difficulty Buffy had managed to draw abreast of Spike and they ran
  as one down the freshly broken trail Angelus and Willow's passage had made.
  When she wasn't devoting her attention to not tripping over some unforeseen
  object in the underbrush, Buffy snuck glances over at Spike. The blond
  vampire was sweating even though the night was starting to cool with the
  coming of fall. The look on his face was both worried and deeply murderous.

  "I just want you to know now," Buffy began to say, panting from the exertion,
  "that if you ever hurt her I *will* kill you. Slowly." The Slayer paused to
  skirt around a deep hole that probably would have broken her leg if she had
  fallen into it. "And probably creatively."

  Spike nearly ran into a tree. "What?"

  "Both of us may be bottle blondes, but I'm not stupid and neither are you."
  Buffy couldn't risk looking at Spike again for fear of taking a tumble and
  losing crucial time, but her voice was dead serious. "You don't go up
  against a vampire like Angelus to save someone you supposedly couldn't care
  less about. And don't blame your newfound conscience, either. Even with a
  soul I still basically think you're an asshole. But something is happening
  between you and Willow, so consider this your warning. If that something is
  still happening when Angel's soul is back where it belongs, you had better
  not hurt her."

  Spike cast the Slayer a surprised and slightly admiring look, but Buffy was
  too busy with closing the gap between Angelus and themselves to see it.
  Softly, almost too low to be heard over the sounds of breaking branches and
  crunching leaves, Spike said, "I won't."

  Pain arced through Willow's back as she was hurled into a tree. She opened
  her mouth to quickly recite a spell of protection, but a ringing slap from
  Angelus knocked the words away. The taste of her own blood filled Willow's
  mouth.

  Pure and simple rage was contorting the demon even further on Angelus' face.
  The blow to the throat he'd received hadn't hurt tremendously, Willow was
  only a mortal after all, but there was the fact that she had dared to do it
  at all. *That* Angelus would not tolerate. "I don't think you'll be using
  any of your magicks here," the vampire said sneeringly to Willow, who was
  just starting to recover from the ringing in her head. "In fact, you won't
  even be seeing another sunrise."

  A weak laugh came from Willow's mouth and she spit a mixture of blood and
  saliva at Angelus. His slap had caused her to bite her tongue. The bold
  action bought her a few seconds in which to speak, Angelus being shocked by
  the change from the mouse he had held captive in junior year. "Do you feel
  it, Angelus?" she asked. "The tension building in the air? I do. It's on
  the verge of popping like a champagne cork. Do you know what it means?"
  Willow laughed again. "It means a powerful spell is being cast even as we
  speak. Your time is up."

  "Not quite yet." Angelus grabbed Willow's broken wrist and twisted. She
  screamed.

  The sound reverberated through the trees, reaching the ears of the two trying
  so desperately to reach her. Spike's face shifted automatically and he lost
  all semblance of reason. He lunged blindly through the underbrush towards
  the source of the sound. Buffy had no choice but to curse and follow.

  Beyond her initial scream Willow clamped her lips down around any further
  sound, refusing to give Angelus the satisfaction of her pain. 'Hold on,' she
  ordered herself. 'Hold on a little longer, until the spell is cast. Oh,
  Angel, you don't deserve to have this monster as a part of you.'

  Yellow eyes bored hatefully into her green. Reading her mind, Angelus said,
  "Do you know that Angel saw you as a symbol of ultimate innocence when he was
  still in Sunnydale? He may never recover once he's himself again."
  Realizing that he was only wasting time with further talk, Angelus grabbed
  Willow's chin and roughly turned her head to the side. He smiled at the musk
  of fear that Willow couldn't conceal and buried his fangs into her throat.

  Willow's eyelids were fluttering by the time Spike came upon them, the face
  of his demon riding clearly on the surface. A snarl rose from his throat at
  the site of Angelus with his throat lowered to Willow's neck. Spike charged
  like an animal.

  A fresh cry of pain came from Willow as as felt Angelus' fangs forcibly torn
  from her neck. Buffy, just a half-step behind Spike, caught her friend
  before she could fall and gently lowered her down to the fallen leaves.
  Willow grunted and tried to sit up. "I'm all right," she said hoarsely.
  "I'll be fine, I..." Willow tried to brace herself with her broken wrist and
  nearly passed out.

  "Fine is not even a blip on your radar screen, Wills," Buffy said. She did a
  quick scan of Willow's injuries, saw none that were immediately life
  threatening, and rose to help Spike.

  Inwardly Spike thanked the Initiative for at least leaving him the ability to
  fight demons. Otherwise he would have been in a great deal of pain as he
  fought, because nothing was going to prevent Spike from kicking Angelus' ass
  all over the forest. The blond vampire's head was filled with images of
  Anna, who he had killed, and Willow, who he had nearly failed to save. A
  fresh growl erupted from Spike's throat and he drove a kick straight into his
  grandsire's midsection. Angelus snarled back in return, grabbed Spike's
  retreating ankle, and flipped him onto his back. "You should know by now,
  *boy*," Angelus snapped, "that tangling with me only ends in pain on your
  part."

  A tiny blonde streak, answering to the name of Buffy, hurled through the air
  and straight into Angelus. The force of the Slayer's launch knocked Angelus
  off balance and he fell to the ground. Buffy rolled quickly back to her
  feet, rising lightly onto the balls of her feet and waiting for Angelus to
  choose his next move. From the corner of her eye she saw Spike doing the
  same thing and approved. Much as she hated to admit it to herself, when they
  chose to fight together they made a good team.

  Willow shivered as she felt the magickal tension in the air continue to
  build. Every hair on their heads would be standing straight up soon. Willow
  struggled back to her feet and swayed dizzily as the blood drained from her
  head. Buffy and Spike continued to work in tandem, keeping Angelus busy
  while avoiding moves that would cause Angel too much pain once they had him
  back.

  'Any minute, any minute.' Willow swore she was able to hear an audible pop,
  and then a ripple seemed to pass through the air. Angelus staggered back
  into a tree trunk while Spike was driven straight to his knees. Twin glows
  shone in their eyes.

  Buffy slowly dropped her attack posture and took a few steps backwards. She
  gave Willow a questioning look. The redhead only shrugged and leaned against
  a tree for support. "Angel?" Buffy asked softly, approaching the dark
  vampire. For a moment there was no response. Then he choked on a sob and
  Buffy knew Angel was back. She knelt beside her ex-boyfriend and wrapped her
  arms around him.

  Willow looked away uncomfortably. It was a moment between friends, not
  lovers, but still she felt like an outsider. "Hey," Willow said, going over
  to Spike and helping him up with her good hand. The broken wrist she kept
  cradled against her abdomen.

  Spike noticed it immediately. "You're hurt," he said, taking Willow's wrist
  and wincing as if struck himself when the redhead winced in pain.

  "A couple weeks in a cast, I'll be fine," Willow said, avoiding the intensity
  of Spike's gaze. His fingers traveled up the side of Willow's neck, tenderly
  touching the wounds made by Angelus' fangs. "So, the soul is..."

  "Gone." The weight of guilt was gone from Spike's chest, but a great block
  of emotion was left behind. "Stop me if you want," the blond vampire finally
  whispered, "but I've got to do this." He dipped his head and took Willow's
  lips with his own. The kiss was tender like their first, but also with a
  line of passion running through it. "You didn't stop me," Spike murmured
  when they pulled away so Willow could breathe.

  "I didn't want to." Willow looked into Spike's face, scrutinizing him. They
  were the same icy blue that they had been when Spike carried Angel's fugitive
  soul. For the moment, at least, they were just as tender. "Does this...does
  your soul being gone again change anything?"

  "It doesn't have to. It's not the demon that's falling for you, Willow
  Rosenberg. It's the man."

  Smiling, Willow leaned up to touch Spike's lips with her own, but then pulled
  back at the same moment with a little cry of pain. She tried to smile as she
  held out her wrist slightly. "Hurts," she explained.

  Spike could have kicked himself. "You need to get to a hospital." He
  glanced towards Buffy, still kneeling next to Angel. She appeared to be
  talking softly to him and Spike knew she would get him somewhere safe by
  sunrise. "C'mon. I have a feeling they won't be along for a while." Spike
  started to lead Willow back down the path that he and Buffy had taken,
  wrapping his arm around Willow's waist as blood loss caught up with her and
  she stumbled. Willow let herself be held, no longer fighting the balance
  that had been screaming to be restored.