DISCLAIMER: We do not own Buffy or Angel (ooh, what a thought) or any of the rest of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Joss Whedon, WB and Mutant Enemy do.
RATING: PG-13
CONTENT WARNING: Some violence, some smooching. Nothing serious -- about the same as the show, with slightly strongly language. But what really gives it the PG-13 rating is -- horror of all horrors -- the hyena jokes. (Not.)
SPOILERS: Everything, we guess. This story takes place in the Fall of '98. Maybe 'The Pack'?
SUMMARY: Buffy and the Slayerettes spend Friday the Thirteenth fighting a new demon, only this time there's a complication, and as a result, Spike frenches Cordelia at last... Willow finally makes with Xander... Angel socks Giles... and a new demon has come to play. No, wait, it's not what you think... but you'll never know what we're talking about unless you read it!!!
Part Three: Sharing Makes the World Go Round
Xander gasped and stumbled. Cordelia, who to Xander's secret delight had danced with him in a perfectly friendly and non-flirtatious way, broke away in concern. "Are you all right, Angel? What's wrong?"
"I'm fine," he lied dazedly. He had felt the flickers, the brief glimpses of the library, Buffy bearing down on him, Willow chanting the words of some spell. Willow had tried to switch them back, and had failed, Xander was sure. Had that idiot Angel gone and told her everything? Surely he wouldn't be such a fool. "No, actually, I think I need to sit down."
He made his way through the dancers until he found an empty table, and fell into a seat. Cordelia followed him. "Uh, Angel," she said hesitantly, "As long as you can't dance anyway, I'd really better go after Xander. He's been gone for much too long."
My thoughts exactly, Xander thought ruefully. "Sure, go ahead, I'll be fine," he said easily, without really thinking about it.
Cordelia turned on her heel (four inch spike, how DOES she walk on those things) and vanished into the crowds. Xander stayed put, waiting for the dizziness to fade.
He had just ascertained that Up was where the ceiling was, and affirmed that his legs would, indeed, meekly submit to being stood upon, when all of a sudden something hit him like a brick wall. For another moment, Xander was back in the library, with the room lit up by lightning. Abruptly, the vision shattered, and Xander found himself doubled over in his chair, gasping, with the people nearest to him staring uneasily.
"What the hell was that?" he muttered. He pushed himself out of his chair and stumbled over to a wall. "This didn't happen the last time I was in on a spell." He chose to ignore the fact that the last time he was involved in a spell it had gone horribly wrong and ended in chaos, disregarding the fact that it was supposed to be a simple love charm anyway. He also overlooked the other last time he was present for a spell casting; vampires had invaded, put his best friend in a coma and kidnapped his librarian. And badly broken his own arm -- it still twinged in nasty weather. No, it seemed that Xander and magic did not mix. So this was nothing new.
Should I go to the library? he wondered. Something's happening. That was a spell. It did not work. Spells that do not work are usually very bad in our little circle...
The dizziness had passed. From his glimpse of her in the library, Xander reasoned that Buffy was probably not coming back. With a sigh, Xander stood up, gathered Buffy¹s abandoned bag, and headed for the door.
Buffy stood up, every line of her -- or rather Willow¹s -- body radiating cold fury. "All right," she said in a deadly quiet voice. "Tell me what happened."
Angel bit his lip in agony. "I don't dare," he said. "I think the reversal didn't work because I told Willow. I think I've made the switch permanent."
Lips pulled back in a snarl, Buffy reached for his throat. Angel knew that his own borrowed body was stronger than her borrowed body, but he did not fight her. Still, before Buffy's hands could close around his windpipe, Willow grabbed Buffy and pulled her away. Surprised, Buffy stumbled backwards. "Stop!" Willow commanded. "Buffy, it isn't Angel's fault!"
Buffy's gaze never wavered. "You are Angel," she affirmed. "I knew it. Because of the way Ang -- Xander was acting. What the hell is going on?"
Willow looked at Angel, eyes huge. "Angel, it's too late," she said. "If the switch is permanent because you told me, then it won't cause any further damage to tell her."
The Slayer was clearly not having a happy. "TELL ME."
Gravely, Angel nodded. "All right," he capitulated, and briefly summed up the fight and the lightning storm, as well as the schoolgirl-witch's restrictions.
Buffy absorbed it without much grace; she did not like being fooled, or being taken unawares. "So, do I owe Xander a punch in the nose?" she asked.
"No!" Angel said hastily, well aware that his own nose would be taking the heat. "No, we really thought we had to fool you." He almost confessed to her his bet with Xander about Cordelia, but caught himself in time. "Believe me," he substituted, "because otherwise I'd never stand by and let someone else take my place in your arms..." His throat choked up. Watching the imposter dance, and snuggle, with Buffy had been almost more than he could bear.
Buffy's eyes, in Willow's face, softened. She stepped closer to him.
Angel went on, the pigments in his voice draining to black. "And if the switch is permanent, now, then how can any of you ever forgive me -- especially Xander! It's my fault, if he's trapped in an unlife, suffering the fate that ought to be --"
Buffy cut him off, lifting one hand to touch his lips. "Angel," she said gently. "How many times do I have to tell you -- don't be so hard on yourself. It's not your fault when things happen." She stepped very close, and lifted her face to him. "And even if it was," she whispered, "I would still love you, no matter what you had done, no matter who you look like."
He ran one finger along her cheekbone, in that oh-so-familiar gesture, and she put up her hand to cover his. Then her other arm went around his neck, and she kissed him.
Willow looked away, torn between smiles and tears. The romance between those two never ceased to enchant her. No other relationship she had seen was anything like it -- not even her own with Oz, and Cordelia's with Xander was pretty much the polar opposite. But for all that Willow loved Oz, to see herself kissing Xander was too much for her to bear.
"I'll just -- go back in the stacks, look for another book," she murmured, and moved away.
Cordelia paused outside the library doors, checking her appearance. If she had simply been looking for Xander, it might not have mattered so much, but she had to look good for him in front of Willow. On her way here she had checked the doughnut shop, the ice cream store, and the coffee shop; no luck. Still, she reasoned, he had been with Willow -- god knows why -- so he was probably here. Every so often, she had discovered, they found it necessary to reestablish their geekhood by ditching the Bronze, of all places, for some kind of weird demon-researching-thing, or whatever.
Satisfied that she looked as breathtaking as always, perhaps more so, Cordelia put one hand on the doors and prepared to go through. As she did so, she heard a soft sound, a laugh. Not a hearty laugh, or even a chuckle of amusement, but a coy giggle, a -- dare she even say it? -- a seductive one.
"It's kind of weird, I know," Xander's voice came.
The laugh again. "I'm used to kissing different lips." It was Willow's voice, unmistakably. Cordelia's breath stopped.
"I could get used to it, though," Xander murmured.
"Practice makes perfect," Willow agreed. "But what about Cordelia?"
A moment of silence.
"Oh, my God," Cordelia whispered. She could not have gone through the door if she was being chased by a rabid hyena.
"What about her?" Xander asked innocently.
"Yes, what about her," Willow repeated, and her voice grew sharper. "You were making out with her in the alley behind the Bronze!"
"I had to," Xander protested. "She wouldn't be put off."
"Two-timer." Willow laughed again; Cordelia felt sick. "Well, I'll forgive you just this once. If you kiss me again."
Cordelia could not take it any more. Stiffly, like a storefront dummy, she forced herself to move forward. Xander's arms were wrapped snugly around Willow; they both had their eyes closed. Xander had never held Cordelia that tenderly.
"Harris," Cordelia said. There was no response at first; then they looked up, and stared at her, eyes wide. They didn't even bother to look guilty, just surprised.
"Cordelia," Xander said, and then abrubtly stepped toward her, out of Willow's embrace. "Cordelia, you don't understand --"
"Damn straight I don't understand," she hissed. "Well, maybe your precious Willow will forgive you, lover boy, but I never will. We are finished." She whirled and headed for the door, eyes burning. Not with tears, she told herself. As if I cared that much.
Xander, moving faster that she had expected, grabbed her shoulder and spun her around. "Cordelia!"
"Xander --"
"Buffy," Willow commented.
Cordelia glanced around. "Where?"
"Right here." Willow pointed to herself. "Cordelia, there's been a.. switch. I'm not Willow. I'm Buffy."
"Big improvement, you double-crossing little --"
"I'm Angel," Xander said, flustered by the sudden Atmosphere. "I have been since last night. There was an accident, and a spell --"
"That is the lamest excuse I have ever heard!" Cordelia shrieked. "Boy, you people never stop, do you? Blaming the Hellmouth for every dirty, lowdown --" she stopped, as her throat choked up. She jerked away from Xander. "Don't touch me," she managed through the lump, and flung herself through the library doors. "And don't you dare follow me, or you will SO regret it!"
She ran out of the school as fast as she possibly could, away from the scene, into the night. And it was the rain, she told herself, that wet her cheeks. Not tears.
Xander, not wishing to interrupt a possible spell in progress, let himself in the library through the back way. Disoriented, he nearly lost himself in the stacks, and was swearing ferociously to himself when he rounded the corner and ran into Buffy.
It was apology time. If Buffy found out what had been going on, which she surely would soon, she would probably want to punch him in the nose. "I'm so sorry," he began, cutting off whatever greeting she had intended to make. "If I was out of line back there, I'm really sorry. I just want you to understand, I care so much about you -- I got carried away."
Buffy's mouth dropped open, and she stared at him, speechless. Apparently she had no idea what was going on. Xander mentally whacked himself upside the head. He was going to have to continue playing Angel.
"I know it doesn't make any sense now," Xander said sadly. "Don't worry about. Just remember that I love you, still. Always."
They were standing close together. She was gazing up at him, her eyes deep and full of some indecipherable emotion. No longer sure if he was playing Angel or speaking for himself, Xander found that his words had dried up. He could communicate with her in only one way.
He kissed her.
For Willow it was a moment out of a dream, because for all that he looked like Angel, she could feel his Xander-ness through her very soul, without a bit of doubt. She melted into his arms, hands slipping around his neck, and she felt his hands supporting her back. It was the gentlest of embraces, and she would not have broken it for all the world...
But she did. She stepped back, firmly breaking the clinch. "Xander," she said lowly, embarrassed. "I'm not Buffy."
He stared at her. Willow sighed. He still didn't get it? Oh well, as Buffy had told her once, some boys you have to hit with a brick. Some, you have to hit with a big brick.
"I'm Willow," she rushed on. "The spell... went wrong. Buffy and I -- just like you and Angel -- Angel thinks maybe it's because we know what happened, so now the spell on you is, maybe, permanent -- "
Xander gasped. "What!"
As fury rushed through him, Willow saw his face melt into Angel's game face, terrifying to behold. Xander swung away from her and strode down the aisle, out of the stacks, moving faster and faster; until with a ferocious snarl he reached the library proper and swung one-handed over the banister onto the lower level. At the sound of his landing, Buffy and Angel whirled around from where they stood by the checkout desk, where they had been discussing something in low tones. In horror, Willow rushed up just in time to see Xander grab Angel by the throat and fling him against the wall.
Angel swallowed heavily. "Xander," he choked. "Is something wrong?"
"Bastard!" Xander cried. "You've stolen my body and you're trying to keep it!"
"I didn't--" Angel began to protest; Xander just snarled and shoved harder, so Angel's words were cut off. For the first time in he didn't want to think about how many years, he found himself struggling for breath.
"Let him go!" Buffy shouted, tugging futilely on his arm.
"Xander!" Willow yelled forcefully. "It wasn't Angel's fault, okay? It was mine. I just kept pushing and pushing, because I knew something was wrong. I made him confess!"
Xander ignored them both, concentrating on Angel. He was so utterly out of control that it made no impression on him that he was wreaking his vengeance on his own body. Xander could feel his face, twisted into a grotesque parody of a human; and that frightened him. He swallowed and tried to regain a measure of control, attempting to restore his more usual air of flippancy. "I've been you for one day and I hate it already! Your lifestyle could depress a hyena!" he snarled.
"With anyone else," Angel shot back as best he could, "that would just have been a really bad analogy."
"You think I'm blind, or stupid?" Xander hissed. "How many times have you mourned that your time with Buffy is so limited? That you're too old for her? That you must starve yourself, and can never have what your demon nature ceaselessly longs for? I can see that, now. You hate being a vampire, we always knew that, but you hate being immortal, too, because of Buffy, and you hate your freakishness and you hate the demon inside you. You and Buffy both wish that you were just a regular kid. Go on, try to tell me it's not true!"
After a moment, it registered on him that his opponent was actually unable to speak. He relented and let up his grip, just a little. Angel gasped like a fish out of water. When he could talk, he said in a calm, even voice, "It is true. All of it."
Xander was a bit surprised that he didn't even try to deny it. "And knowing all that," he snarled fiercely, "you expect me to believe that you didn't deliberately make this spell permanent?"
"Yes, I do expect you to believe it," Angel gritted.
"You couldn't possibly be better off!"
Buffy opened her mouth indignantly to contest this statement, but Angel, still holding Xander's eyes, merely said quietly, "That's true."
Buffy paused mid-protest.
"But I expect you to believe me," Angel continued, "because you have been me for one day now." He had to convince Xander soon, before his air ran out entirely -- "You've had a taste -- and believe me, it's just the tiniest of tastes -- of the hell that is my unlife. And meanwhile, your own youth has been ripped away. Unfairly stolen. As mine was from me. I didn't deserve to have my normal life destroyed, and neither do you. And now that you know what it's like -- is your opinion of me so very low that you truly believe I would do to someone, anyone else, what was done to me?"
For a heartbeat there was silence in the library. Then Xander relaxed his grip and backed off. His face reverted back to normal, and Angel keeled over, clutching his throat. Hypoxia was an utterly unfamiliar phenomenon.
"I suppose not," Xander muttered. Now that his unthinking rage was dissipating, the sheer power of his reaction alarmed him more than a little. He glared again at Angel. "But if it really is permanent and if I ever find out that this was on purpose, I'll track you down and make you a vampire too."
Angel's head snapped up. "You think that's a threat to be made lightly?"
"Believe me," Xander growled, "it wasn't." He managed to assume a more nonchalant air. "If I'm a vampire now, I can just eat anyone who annoys me, right?"
"From what I've heard," Angel murmured, "you were known to do that before you were a vampire."
Xander winced, and glared at the other two. "Which one of you told him about the hyenas?" he demanded.
Willow and Buffy stared uncomfortably. After a moment of silence that would have been good to whittle stakes on, Buffy spoke up. "We have other things to worry about right now," she said, trying to pretend the awkward scene had never happened. "The spell failurage, for one thing." Buffy paused. "Is that a word?"
"I'm not sure," Xander quipped, quickly falling back on witticisms, "English is only my first language."
"The spell might have worked," Willow protested. "Only Buffy came in in the middle of it and interrupted us."
"Why didn't you try it again?" Xander asked pointedly.
"Angel and Buffy, were, um, talking," a typical Willowism, sounding strange in Buffy's mouth, " -- so I went back into the stacks and, er, um," Willow blushed furiously, "ran into you."
Xander shot a withering glare at Buffy and Angel. "Talking. Right."
Angel raised Xander's eyebrows. "Ran into. Right," he responded, at which point Xander made the discovery that vampires don't blush, no matter how immortally embarrassed they are.
"Anyway, we got interrupted by Cordelia," Buffy explained, and then winced, realizing they were going to have to tell him about her little... misunderstanding.
Something must have shown on her borrowed expressive face, though, because Xander took a step towards Buffy in alarm. "Cordelia was here?" he repeated.
"Briefly," Angel put in, and cleared his throat again.
Buffy turned red. "She, uh, walked in on Angel kissing me," she clarified.
"Oh, my God," Xander exploded, unconsciously echoing Cordelia. "So you're telling me that basically, Cordelia walked in and saw me kissing Willow?" He looked around, then back at Buffy. "Did you tell her about the spell?" he asked desperately.
"Well, we tried to," Angel answered. "She didn't believe us."
"Not surprised," Xander muttered. "Iwouldn't believe it if it weren't happening to me. Where is she?"
"She left. Fast," Buffy replied.
Xander stared at her. "You mean you let her go? Out, alone, where the wild things are? Jesus!" he shouted. "I can't believe you people!" He turned and headed for the door.
"She said not to follow her!" Buffy protested.
"I don't care what she said!" he shouted back. "I have to find her before something else happens!"
Willow, Angel and Buffy were left in the empty library. There was a moment of silence; then Buffy clutched at her red hair and screeched in frustration, "AAAAGGHH!!!"
"Buffy, calm down," Angel said soothingly. "I know this is hard on you..."
"When this is over," Buffy said, glaring at him, "you're making it up to me."
Angel looked thoughtful. "Microwave popcorn and renting 'I Know What You Did Last Summer', and I promise not to bite you when you hit me for drooling over that cute actress?"
"I didn't hit you for that, I hit you for shouting out style critiques whenever that professional psycho came onscreen!"
"I couldn't help it!" Angel felt obliged to protest. "He was using a kitchen implement! Do you have any idea how many points that would have cost him back when..." Both girls were staring at him. He turned red and tried to get back to the point. "Fine, what were you thinking of?"
"Something along the lines of a romantic dinner..." Buffy looked wistful.
"But I can't cook!"
Momentarily distracted, Willow glanced over at him from her seat in front of the computer. "You can't cook, Angel? But you're two hundred and forty-two years old --"
"Two forty-three, actually --"
"Surely you must have at least picked up the theory!"
Angel shook his head mulishly. "I haven't had to cook actual food since I was a kid in Ireland in the mid eighteenth century." He paused; Buffy donned a pitiful gaze. With her current face, the result was downright devastating. He wavered. "Well, I suppose I could boil you some potatoes..."
Buffy groaned and covered her face. Willow grimaced at her computer screen. "Guys, I'm not finding anything... could you possibly do something productive?"
"All right," Angel sighed, and turned to Buffy. "Which one of us has to call Giles?"
Cordelia leaned against the wall of the alley, oblivious to the rain, and began to cry. It was one thing to always be aware, in the back of her mind, that she would always rank third in Xander's heart, but it was quite another to walk in and see them.... she couldn't even complete the thought. She slid down the wall, sunk in misery. Dammit, she'd given up her hard-won social status for the dork! How could he just throw her away like that?
And then he had the nerve to try and cover it up like that! How dare he? If he didn't love her, he should at least have the decency to say so...
Finally, here in the rain-drenched alley, Cordelia Chase admitted it to herself. She loved him. But the thought did her little good now, as it was painfully apparent that he didn't love -- that he'd never loved her, only seen her as a way to get a sexual rush while waiting to get a chance with Willow. With Willow! Cordelia couldn't even muster up the energy to feel disgusted. Instead she laid her tear-stained cheek on her drawn up knees and sobbed quietly, not caring that she was alone near the bad part of town, not caring if some vampire found her, not even caring if her mascara smeared. She buried her face in her hands and tried not to think of Xander.
Someone called her name. Cordelia raised her head, tears ceasing abruptly, and listened. Had Xander come after her?
"Cordelia!"
Her hopes crashed. It wasn't Xander. Scrubbing at her cheek with one hand. Cordelia pulled herself to her feet and tried to pretend she hadn't cried at all. Mustering all her reserve, she stepped out into the street.
"Cordy? Is that you?"
Footsteps came quickly through the rain towards her. She raised her water-blurred vision and managed to identify her tracker as Angel.
"Yeah, it's me," she managed. "What do you want?"
Angel stepped up to her and took one of her cold hands in his. "I had to make sure you were all right. Buffy and Angel said you'd just run off."
Cordelia gave him a funny look. "Angel, are you feeling okay? Cause I could have sworn you just referred to yourself in the third person."
Angel looked away, then back at her. "Well, we can't keep it secret any more. You see, Cordy, I'm really Xander. Yesterday night, Angel and I were fighting, and there was this spell and we ended up switching bodies, and -- "
Cordelia stared for a moment, then snatched her hand out of his grip. "You're in on it too? What did they give you to front them? I told Xander, I told Willow and you can just tell them that I'm not going to buy that lame excuse!"
She turned her back on him, stifling her tears.
Xander looked up at her, startled. "Cordy, it's really me!" he insisted.
She started to walk away, shoulders straight, back stiff.
"Cordelia!" he called again, more desperately, running after her. "The first time we kissed was last winter. We were in Buffy's house, hiding from a bug assassin posing as a cosmetic salesman."
She stopped, but did not turn around. "They all know about that now."
"The second time we kissed," Xander continued, "was in a science lab a few days later. During an insult-fest. Nobody else was around for it, and nobody else knew. And it's not the sort of thing I would have stooped to telling even Buffy, much less Angel."
Cordelia looked over her shoulder, and a slight spark of hope and belief began to burn in her eyes. "When did you give me this?" she asked, fingering the silver heart locket around her neck.
"Valentine's day, last year," Xander answered promptly. "Your response was to break up with me."
"What did you give me for my last birthday?"
"Nothing -- you haven't had a birthday since we started going out. It's next month, and I've been saving to get you a -- "
"Don't tell me!" she interrupted, and her face took on a crafty look. "One last question. What was I wearing yesterday?"
Xander felt trapped. "I have no idea," he confessed.
Cordelia, needing no further convincing, threw herself into his arms with a happy cry. "It is you!" she said delightedly. "It wasn't you kissing Willow after all! You didn't lie to me, and you still love m -- " she stopped herself and looked up at him.
Xander looked down at her, eyes wide. "Since when do I love you?" he said teasingly. "Why didn't anybody think to tell me that?" He cut himself off at the vulnerable look in her eyes, and changed his tactic. "Cordelia, I do love you," he confirmed. At this point they reached a mutual agreement to leave English to the English majors, and they kissed. Neither payed any heed to the strains of soft piano music drifting down from some unidenftified location.
Halfway through the kiss, Xander felt Cordelia's body language change abruptly. She tensed up, and drew away from him slightly, but made no effort to break out of the kiss. After a moment more, though, she pushed him back and stared into his face, as if searching for something.
"Is something wrong?" he said, alarmed. The music had stopped, this could only be bad. Cordy reached up and brushed a few stray hairs back into place.
"My Angel," she breathed. Her voice was different, too. "Miss Sunshine said you'd come back to me..."
At Spike and Dru's warehouse, the scene was as peaceful as life got for two psychotic vampires. All the boys had a night out, although they had been expressly warned to stay away from anything concerning the slayer or the new demon. The Slayer had had no luck finding their new hideout, and there were no apocalypses scheduled for the week. Unless, of course, you counted the showing of "Armageddon" later that morning. But for the moment, nothing in particular was going on.
Spike was bored out of his mind.
Dru was being quite restless, pacing ceaselessly about the room and muttering to herself. Spike had tired of watching her some time ago, and was currently debating the merits versus risks of disregarding Dru's warning and going out to find someone to eat.
"...black and white," Spike heard Dru mutter as she passed by him on her circuit around the room. "Wi' li'le pieces rottin' off, all the time. It's so pretty. I can hear it calling to me..."
Spike looked up at her, alerted. "Are you having a vision, pet?" he asked.
Dru turned to face him, clutching one of her innumerable damned dolls, eyes empty. "We can't reach it," she informed him gravely. "But she can."
"Who?" Spike asked. Dru turned and continued her pacing.
"She's reachin' for it right now," the clairvoyant vampiress continued. "She's all around. Big and black. Like a spider's web. What's that you say, Miss Edith?" she addressed her doll, slowing. "Who's comin'? Oh!"
Suddenly, she stopped in her tracks, her back to Spike. He saw the doll fall out of her suddenly nerveless fingers.
"What is it, princess?" asked Spike, curious and alarmed now.
"What?" Dru asked sharply, turning to face him. As her eyes fell upon his face, they widened in surprise. "Uh..." she said eloquently.
Spike stood up and walked quickly over to her. "What's wrong?" he demanded.
"Um," she elaborated. She looked nervously from side to side, in a most un-Dru like fashion. "So, Spike, I, uh..." She pulled away from him and started hurriedly towards the nearest exit.
Spike grabbed her wrist and pulled back. "What's goin' on?" he said harshly. "Don't try to tell me 'nothing', or I'll have to--"
Dru stared at him, eyes wide and frightened.
Spike calmed himself down. "Oh, I'm sorry, pet," he said remorsefully. Dru was still staring at him in fear. Spike put his arms around her shoulders and kissed her briefly. Her eyes wide as dinner plates, Drusilla remained stiff, like a dummy, and Spike pulled back, more upset that ever. This wasn't right. "Drusilla, will you please just tell me what's wrong? I can't read minds, you --"
He cut himself off, quite suddenly, and glanced nervously around. Then Spike looked back to Dru. He took a step backwards, then glanced down at himself. He reached up and rubbed the side of his face, as if groping for glasses that weren't there.
"Oh, d-deah," he muttered. "What now?"
Willow, alerted by a noise from outside the library, looked up to see the double doors swing open. In walked Giles, or perhaps stalked would be a better word. He scowled blackly at the three teenagers seated in various places around the library.
"Giles!" said Buffy happily. "Just the Watcher I wanted to see. We were kinda hoping you'd help us on researching --"
"Spiritual transference, yes, I know. Believe me, I know. Make it quick, though, 'cause I got news for you." His pleasant British accent seemed much sharper than annoyance could account for, and his stammer and hesitant manner of talking had vanished entirely. "Whatever little party you're throwing, we're about to have some bloody crashers. A team of local vampires are coming this way, and I don't think they're here for night school."
"Wow," remarked Buffy. "Sounds like fun." She exchanged a wide-eyed-glance -- her current features were very good at wide-eyed glances -- with Willow and Angel.
The library doors burst inward again, and Angel -- er, Xander -- appeared, looking flustered. "Where is she?" he demanded.
"Who?" Giles asked, turning away from his office door.
"Cordy?" Buffy asked. "You went after her!"
"I did, and I found her! We were just reaching an understanding when she went schizo on me! She then babbled nonsense for about ten seconds and took off. I was hoping she came back here."
Giles looked extremely interested. "Nonsense? Like what?"
Xander shook Angel's head helplessly. "Even though I'd already convinced her I was Xander, she thought I was Angel --"
"I can't see how that would have happened," Angel remarked.
" -- and she mumbled something about a Miss Sunshine. From there on it tended towards the incomprehensible."
Giles's lips moved. Buffy was no lip-reader, but she was pretty sure it amounted to something along the lines of, Oh, hell. "What's going on?" the Slay -- er, ex-Slayer -- oh, something like that -- demanded forcefully.
Angel scowled. "Sounds like something Dru would say," he said helplessly.
"Maybe," Willow spoke up, "she wasDrusilla! Maybe Dru and Cordy got switched, just like we did!"
"Global 'we' there, Will?" Xander asked.
"But how?" Giles demanded.
"Yeah," Xander agreed. "Cordy wasn't fooling around with any spells. Is this thing contagious?"
"It bloody seems like it," Giles muttered under his breath.
"The girl," Buffy said suddenly.
"That girl in the park," Angel said. He had the sensation of being hit with a big brick. "Or maybe not a girl at all?"
"Maybe," Giles suggested abstractedly, "that was the 'large dark power' that Dr -- uh -- that I've been predicting lately."
"And you didn't tell me," Buffy growled. "Thanks for the warning."
Giles stood up abruptly and slammed his fist against the table. "It's that party-crashing spider-witch! That kibitzing demon whose bungling -- I never thought she would actually do it, but--"
"Uh," Xander interrupted. "Do not pass Go, do not collect two hundred dollars, and today's Double Jeopardy question is: what demon?"
"Not another one," groaned Willow.
Buffy ignored the heathens, concentrating on her Watcher. "So you think this demon is the one who's foisted this round of Musical Chairs on us?"
"Yes, and when I --"
"Where?"
Giles was pacing around the room, muttering to herself, so Angel answered. "She'd need some safe place -- and she'd need to be close. Inside the school, even."
Buffy stood. "You once said that a witch's spell would be reversed if the witch's head were cut off. Does the same hold true for an un-human witch?"
"How the bloody hell should I know?" Giles called back, irritated.
"Yes," Angel said.
"Then that's my cue," Buffy answered, gathering up the slaying bag that Xander had kindly brought with him from the Bronze. "I got me a demon to decapitate."
"Buffy!" called Angel, stopping Buffy in her tracks. "You can't go out there!"
"Why not?" Buffy demanded. "How is this demon different from any other?"
"It's not the demon that's different," Angel said patiently. "It's you. You're not the Slayer."
"Yes, I am!"
"You haven't got the strength, or the fighting skill."
"Are you so sure?" Buffy dropped her bag and stalked over to where her lover stood. Luckily Willow had dressed that evening in leggings and a sweater, not the most fashionable, but practical for fighting. Without warning, she kicked out at him with impressive extension and perfect form.
Taken by surprise, but reflexes quick as ever, Angel ducked, and her foot flew over his head. "Hey!" protested Xander. "Be careful, I'm delicate!"
Willow, however, was merely staring with wide eyes. "Wow," she breathed.
Angel had recovered. "All right, you have the skill," he acknowledged. Then he grabbed her arms, spun her around, and pinned them behind her. Outraged, she struggled against him, but to no avail.
"But you haven't got the strength," he snarled. "Dammit, Buffy, you're gonna get yourself killed!"
"Let go of me!"
"You are not going out there!"
A strong hand grabbed Angel and pulled him forcibly away from Buffy. Angel was thrown against the wall, and found himself staring into eyes that were technically Buffy's but with an expression Willow had once called her "resolve face."
"Not alone," Willow said quietly.
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The Brotherhood ][ Last Man Out ][ Blacklight
Behind the Scenes ][ What's Mine Is Yours ][ 3 Thru The Merry-O
Swing Set ][ The Healer ][ Black & White
The Meek Shall Inherit ][ Rosemary For Remembrance
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