Faith was bone weary but she continued to train the potentials.  

“That’s not it, and you damn well know it,” she snapped at the willowy brunette. God, there were so many of them it was hard to remember names. Maybe they should start wearing nametags; ‘Hi My Name Is Faith, I’m a Slayer’ with smiley faces and stakes decorating the backgrounds.  

And then, Faith thought as the girl tried again, they could have a slayer convention. Wouldn’t that be fun.  

Block, dodge, jump over sweeping feet – a move she had taught the girls just an hour ago – then start all over again. Had she really been this…bad when she began? Faith didn’t think so – hoped not – and wondered how the slayer line ever managed to survive this long.  

“Okay, okay, stop. Look, I know you girls don’t have the stamina slayers do, but you do have something more than the average human.” Faith said as she blew wisps of hair off her face and wished for a hair tie to let the back of her neck breathe. The fact that the girls couldn’t touch her didn’t mean that they weren’t giving her a workout. But what to say to these girls? We fight, we die, another is called, and life as everyone knows it goes on just not with you?  

Morbid and depressing and not really the rousing speech she had envisioned.  

“You have potential. You are the next slayers,” she said, hoping this speech was going to turn out the way she wanted it to. “You can kick ass better than any of them, hell, you’re destined to do so. But this crap you’re showing me here?” She waved her hands to encompass the patheticness she witnessed. “Quick ticket to demon lunch; trust me when I say that’s not the way to go.”  

She caught Anya and Dawn out of the corner of her eye. Both were giving her two thumbs up. She stifled the urge to laugh at them and continued with her improv.  

“There are demons out there that are not hindered by the sun,” she added with a glance at that rising orb. “So thinking that you’re safe in daylight is really only good for vamps, and there are so many other things out there that want to eat tasty little slayers such as yourself.” 

Anya nodded and, when it looked like Faith was faltering in her rousing speech, added, “Some demons aren’t bad, but a lot that are can move as freely in the daylight as at nighttime. They don’t like to if they’re easily recognizable, but they can. The First is probably in charge of some of them and I’d bet all your lives It isn’t going to wait for nightfall to attack.” 

Faith looked at the ex-demon once more and nodded. Not the best choice of words, probably, but she certainly appreciated someone who looked after their own hide. “This isn’t a slumber party children, it’s life and death. Yours, the girl next to you, mine, the world’s. Sounds like a lot of pressure, doesn’t it?” She asked and wondered when she became so damn positive. How’d she get stuck with this job, damn it? 

“So, do you want to live or do you want to die? I’ve seen you fight together; I know you’re capable of it. You had better start remembering that. Time is ticking, and the clock is running out of minutes.” 

God, could I use any more clichés?  

“Okay, once more,” Faith said to the groans of everyone. “Once more and I mean all of it, from beginning of the exercise to the end and I expect everyone to do it right the first time.” 

Faith smiled and continued. “And when you’re finished, we’re splitting into groups and patrolling the mansion. Nothing like being unprepared for an attack.” She smirked at the groans that again filled the air. “Better get started, girls. The sooner you do, the sooner you can sleep.” 

Faith moved back to where Anya stood. “I’m going to sleep for a week once this is over,” she said as she watched the potentials go through their routines. “Maybe take a trip to Vegas or someplace.” 

Anya nodded, agreeing. “I’m with you; saving the world is a lot harder than destroying it. Or, in my case, exacting revenge on it. That was the simple life let me tell you. No doubts, no concerns, no worrying about how to stop some unstoppable evil. It was nice.” 

Faith stared at her and asked. “What happened?” 

Scowling, the former vengeance demon huffed, “Sunnydale was the wrong place to exact vengeance in, let me tell you. No matter which timeline you’re in.” 

At Faith’s look Anya added, not really wishing to discuss the past, especially her ignoble fall from demonic grace. “A wish was made, I came to fulfill it and it changed the timeline. The spell was broken and I lost my power center and I really don’t want to talk about it any more.” 

Faith nodded and wondered how she had never heard that story before. Maybe if they survived the upcoming battle she’d get a chance to ask. The potentials were wrapping up their practice and Faith was anxious for some sleep. 

“Okay, break up into your groups of five.” When they had done so, Faith counted them off. “Group one takes first watch; find…” she thought about it for a moment wondering who to ‘recruit’ for first watch. “Anya,” she gestured to the former demon and smiled at her scowl. “Grab whatever weapons you want or need or just like but make sure you know how to use them, this isn’t the time to practice.” 

Anya scowled at Faith again but gathered her group and headed upstairs, careful to turn right instead of left where she knew Buffy and her demonic lover were. No sense in dying before the big party. “No sneaking up on me, now and watch where you point that, girl!” 

Smiling as her voice faded up the stairs, Faith turned to the rest of the group. “Find a place to crash and get some sleep. I don’t want to hear any talking, I’m beat and I get cranky when I’m tired. And believe me when I tell you that a cranky slayer isn’t someone you want to mess with.” 

The girls nodded and headed upstairs to find their own rest. Faith looked after them, her smile fading and her shoulders slumping. Not all of them were going to survive and it was a fact Faith didn’t want to admit. 

Unfortunately, this was war and war stories didn’t always have happy endings. 

“Do you think Buffy’s okay?” Dawn asked as she moved with Faith to find a place to sleep. She wasn’t tired, but knew that the moment she laid down, she’d sleep. 

“B?” Faith asked, her eyes on the ceiling where she knew Buffy and Angelus were. “Yeah, she’ll be fine.” 

“Even with Mr. Grr up there with her?” Dawn was worried and scared, and having Angelus threaten them hadn’t made her any less so. 

Faith shrugged, grabbed a blanket, and stretched out on the floor next to Dawn. “If he hasn’t hurt her yet,” she reasoned, “Then he probably won’t now. I think he meant what he said about helping because it’s what Buffy wanted.” 

“You know,” Dawn said as she pillowed her head on her arms. “That doesn’t make me feel any safer.” 

It didn’t make Faith feel so, either.
~~~~~~~~~~
He asked again, voice calm and quiet, and oh so deadly, a hint of Irish adding to the effect. “Are you finished?” When Buffy said nothing Angelus took that as an affirmative…and snapped.  

With a roar, Angelus hauled her across their bed, eyes blazing red, lips pulled back into a snarl over fangs gleaming in the dim lamplight. He trapped her against his body, hard and unyielding. Rage poured off him in waves, pounding into Buffy with a fierceness that should have scared her. “You’re wrong, lover,” he snarled, fingers biting into her shoulders.  

“You’re wrong, and whether you like it or not, whether you admit it or not, it’s a fact. You like me as I am; you like that I’m dangerous, and don’t care what others think. That those pathetic losers down stairs, who can’t find a life of their own and insist on running yours, have a better chance of finding God Himself in hell than they do running me off like they did that pansy soul. As for changing you,” he let loose a bark of laughter that did nothing to lessen his meaning.  

“Baby, I learned years ago that that wasn’t possible. Have I ever tried to change you? No, so get over that little bit of idiocy. You’re starting to make as much sense as Angel did when he was deluding himself with ‘true love’ feelings for that bitch seer.”  

 He brought his face closer to hers, eyes boring into her narrowed ones. “Deal with my staying, lover, because I’m not going anywhere, and neither the hell are you; not without me. Where I go you go, baby. And you better damn well believe that wherever you are, I will be as well. Or someone is going to pay for my displeasure. In spades. And right after they do, lover, your slayer ass will, too. ”  

“Oh,” Buffy said in agreement, eyes flashing a strange golden-white, a legacy of her new Slayer status. Her own anger threatened to bubble over, hot and fast. “I’m not surprised about that. You’ll stay, Angelus, because it’s what you want.”  

“Don’t even try to pretend it’s not what you want, too,” the vampire cut in, seething at her stubbornness.  

“I’m not,” Buffy admitted, hand coming out to cup his cheek. She couldn’t deny it, even if tortured. “You’ll stay, I know that. But,” she continued, “Will you help? I’m here to fight the First; I have to do this. You, on the other hand,” she pointed out, “Made a deal with the First.” Holding up a hand Buffy nodded. “Oh, yeah, I know…it was for me.”  

Buffy’s wariness over Angelus’ continued presence in her life wasn’t that he’d suddenly decide to leave her. He wasn’t, and she knew that. “You have this tendency to snap necks, and ask questions later. If at all. You kill people because they piss you off, or get in your way; they’re on the lunch menu or something. Or make you feel,” she glared at him, and that meaning wasn’t lost on either of them. “Or because they know me, or some other damn thing.”  

“It’s who I am, baby,” Angelus shot back, eyes piercing her defenses. What was the big deal? She hadn’t put up much of a fuss in LA just days ago. Now, all of a sudden she was worried about humans? His eyes narrowed as he watched Buffy try to get herself under control, to reign in her temper. What was her game?  

“So it is,” Buffy conceded in as calm a voice as she could manage. She didn’t think it was very calm, but hey, she tried. Angelus was unpredictable at best, and her temper matched it. “And saving those lives is mine.”  

Rolling them so she lay under him, Angelus lowered himself so they touched as intimately as possible, while still managing a civil conversation. He loomed over her silently, looking like a big jungle cat, graceful, sleek, and beautiful, and Buffy couldn’t help the arousal that pooled low in her belly. Whatever her current feelings towards Angelus, she loved him, and she wanted him; she always had and knew she always would.  

“Saving lives, hmm, yes,” he said in a low voice. “You save the world, make the sacrifices, and what do you get for it? A watcher who doesn’t even bother to give you Council funds to live your life; and when the going gets tough, he heads across the ocean for tea and crumpets. A sister who steals and lies because she thinks she’s neglected; and dear sis had the misfortune to spend most of the summer dead for her. Tsk Tsk, how could you be so selfish Buff?” If he’d have been around then, there was no way in hell Angelus would have let Buffy die and Dawn live. No way. He’d have pushed that brat over the edge of the tower himself.  

“You have friends who help,” he continued, “By getting themselves into situations only you can get them out of; and then they berate you for their stupidity. You have all these slayer potentials who blame you for their lot in life, when all you’ve done so far is save them.”  

He lowered his mouth, softly kissed her, warm and seductive. “All I want from you is you, Buffy. I want your heat, your love, your passion. I want to argue with you, I want to fuck you, I want to taste every bit of your delicious body. I want to hold you during the day, and I want to hear you scream my name at night. I want to show you the world.”  

Hers, Buffy thought as she listened to him, trying to ignore the way their bodies just…fit together. He was hers, her Angelus, her lover, her own personal demon. There was a lot she couldn’t argue with him about, his points were…valid. She didn’t like them, nor would she ever agree with them to his face, but. But.  

Maybe, Buffy considered as his mouth trailed over her neck, making her shiver and heat, and moved her body under his. Maybe she could change him. Maybe being with her, being only with her, she could show him that he didn’t need to do all those very demon-y things he thought he enjoyed. He didn’t need to impress her, and he certainly didn’t need to protect her; she had enough power to do that herself.  

“I will be everywhere you are, because I love you. And damn us both, you belong to me.” He emphasized in case she hadn’t heard him before. He moved against her, smooth and sleek, and deliciously naked. Buffy wrapped her legs around his waist, wanting to pull him into her, wanting to join with him in the most primal way a man and woman could. “Honestly, Buffy, you should know me better than that. Angel may have let you go, may have let you ‘explore’ those pathetic humans, but I won’t. Ever!” 

He found her lips again, crushing hers in a brutal kiss, one that Buffy returned with equal passion. But he didn’t give into her demands, pleas, whimpers. He didn’t enter her willing and waiting body. “You’re mine, lover, every look, every sigh, every thought. I’ve marked you, and I’m never letting you go. Not in this lifetime, not even in the next.”

Another kiss and liquid fire raced through her. Angelus smirked against her swollen lips. She was a feisty one, his slayer. But that’s what he loved about her. Maybe, as time went on, he could convince her of his ways. Show her that what she fought, what he was, the basic boiled down Angelus, wasn’t so bad. She loved him, loved him even knowing what he did, was capable of. A few years with him, a decade or two, and she’d come to see things his way.  

Or, at the very least, that his views on humans – not including her, of course – were just another part for her to love.  

“I won’t let you leave,” his voice rocketed through her, warming her to the bone. “I won’t let you have others; I don’t give a fuck about picnics, or canines, or the 2.5 brats Angel hid behind to scare you away. Everywhere you go, my love. I’ll be there, waiting, watching. Possessing.”  

Buffy was hypnotized by his eyes, a gleaming red that looked nothing short of beautiful to her as they sparked with heat, love, and fury. She didn’t analyze why she couldn’t tear her own eyes from his, didn’t care. She simply added it to the fact that it was another part of Angelus, therefore another part for her to love. And Angel was there, lending his hurt and anger to Angelus, Buffy could feel his soul crying out for her, to her. In complete agreement with Angelus, and she wondered just when that change occurred.  

His arms trapped her, twin steel bands on either side of her body holding her prisoner on the bed, and while she was sure she could escape, Buffy had no desire to. Their naked bodies were inches apart, and still Angelus hadn’t entered her, hadn’t eased both their need.

Lowering his lips to hers, his tongue snaked out to lick her lips. She turned her head away, determined to at least try to make sense of this situation. 

Angelus smirked at her weak effort, instead following her movements, licking the delicate shell of her ear before leaning close enough to murmur words Buffy wanted to refuse to hear, but couldn’t. Her body shook harder with his nearness, from lust, from love, from his words. She didn’t want to acknowledge it, but she shook from her need of his blood, too. 

“Angel loved you from the moment he saw you,” Angelus told her in that soft voice of his. “And will continue to do so despite his many fuckups over the years – we won’t even go into the Cordelia mess, will we, lover?” His mouth was doing delicious things to her neck but Buffy struggled to hear his words. She didn’t like that Cordelia could have had what she always wanted – Angel, no strings, no loopholes, no interference – and briefly wondered if the bitch was dead yet. 

“You have me now, Buffy, and only me,” Angelus continued in that sinful voice that moved through Buffy like a drug. “And I’ve loved you for just as long. Except I’m not leaving you, my love. I’ll never leave you. Never. And you,” his mouth found hers, tasting, exploring, “Are never leaving me.” 

Angelus kissed her then, lowering his body against hers. Pulling back after all too brief a touch, eyes now a dark, deep brown, he looked into her hazel eyes and gently caressed her face. Buffy clenched her hands into tight fists on the sheets in a vain and desperate attempt to keep from touching him. But oh, how she wanted him.  

“I’ve never loved another, Buffy,” the demon admitted, and they both knew how hard that was for him. “And I know you know that. More than anything, life, death, the world; I love you. No matter how hurt you are, no matter what else happened, or will happen, I love you. Always.” His mouth touched hers, captivating, burning, persuasive.  

“With me,” Angelus added, easing the tip of his erection into her, tormenting them both, “You have the best chance of survival against those you think you still have to protect. And,” he added with a soft nip at the scar on her neck, smiling as she gasped his name. “When I’m with you, at least you know whether I’m snapping necks or not,” he smirked, sinking deeper into her. ”When I’m with you, Buffy, nothing else matters. But,” he drew back, away from her, out of her warmth and acceptance. She stifled a whimper, but he smirked down at her knowingly.  

“If you think for one moment that you can leave me, beloved, I’ll make the First’s outing look like a cranky brat fighting an afternoon nap.”  

“Or,” Buffy said, releasing his hips, letting her legs drop to the bed. “I can kill you now.”  

Angelus immediately rolled off her, releasing her from his arms, his loving embrace. He sat back against his heels, arms stretched out to his sides. His eyes were brown again, his face impassive. The look he gave her showed her that he wouldn’t fight her. That he wasn’t going to try and stop her, not with words, not with actions, not with so much as a look. He was naked and open, and he wasn’t going to try to protect himself.  

In a deadly serious voice, Angelus said, “Then do it. Do it, because that’s the only way I’m giving you up this time.”  

Buffy didn’t move, she didn’t breathe. She looked at her lover, watched his unflinching eyes, the stillness of his chest. Watched him watch her, arms wide open, chest – heart – venerable. All she had to do was move. Move to get her stake, Buffy knew there was one in the bag Dawn had packed. Move towards her lover, ram the stake into his heart.  

And kill herself in the process.  

Buffy couldn’t do it, and knew it. She knew Angelus knew it as well. And yet he was giving her this chance. Why?  

“Why?” She asked, not breaking eye contact with him, not moving.  

“Why am I giving you this chance?” He asked as if he’d read her mind. “Because this is it, baby. This is the last one. If you can’t do it now, then there are no second chances, no try agains.”  

“Will you help?” Buffy asked, still not moving. She waited his answer as silently and stilly as he waited hers. “Against the First, will you help?”  

“Yes,” Angelus nodded. For her, he’d defy the Powers and the First combined. Just to ensure her safety, just to ensure her survival. “For you, my love, I will do anything you ask of me.”  

Buffy nodded, no longer able to deny her heart or the truth. “Thank you,” she whispered, leaning up to capture his mouth with hers, not able to stop herself from touching him. 

He showed her then, what he had promised already with words, and Buffy responded, eagerly, passionately. Buffy was helpless not to respond because she understood, the hard way, just how unbelievably fleeting happiness was for her. Oh, yes, she was helpless in the face of the passion they sparked together. Of the love Angelus enveloped her in, of the warmth, safety, and feeling of…home. 

His mouth pressed against hers, fangs lengthening as he kissed her. Entered her body in one swift thrust, seating himself in her warmth on a long hiss of satisfaction. His tongue scraped against her lower lip, and he smirked when Buffy whimpered. Not in pain, in need. Her hips moved against his, and Angelus began to slowly thrust in and out of her in a smooth and easy rhythm. 

When Angelus offered his neck, again Buffy hesitated. He growled, forcing her head to his neck, his large hand clasped over the back of her head so she couldn’t move. She continued to fight, but the small tasted she’d had had only eased the shakes, it hadn’t stopped them altogether. 

“Damn it, Buffy,” Angelus growled, “Drink!” 

She hesitated a moment longer; opening her mouth, feeling her teeth elongate into fangs, Buffy drank. The moment she did so, both vampire and slayer exploded in exquisite orgasm, clutching each other tight as if afraid the force of their passion would propel them off their bed. 

She cringed the entire time she drank, even as she offered her own neck to Angelus. Buffy hated this need, hated the fact that her body enjoyed it, wanted it, sang with joy as it accepted the gift from her mate. It went beyond reason, conditioning, morality; it was something at its most basic that spoke to her on a level all its own, at its most primal. And she responded despite herself. Her body sighed with relief and acceptance, and the shakes stopped, leaving her in relative peace.  

Licking the rapidly closing wound, Buffy couldn’t help but smile at Angelus. Kissing him softly one last time, she murmured something too soft for even Angelus to hear. He rolled them until she was atop him, head resting on his chest, her breathing evening out. His lips grazed the top of her head in an unconscious gesture.  

“Why do you have this death wish, Buffy?” Angelus demanded as he held her tenderly despite the harshness in his words. “Why do you want to die, to leave me?” 

How to answer that? Honestly, her inner voice said, but Buffy wasn’t so sure. This wasn’t Angel, this was Angelus, and the very fact that he’d asked the question…frightened her. Yet Buffy found herself wanting to tell him, wanting him to know the many, many reasons why her life sucked beyond the telling of it. She smiled slightly at the memory, wishing Jonathon was still alive. 

Andrew. It was Andrew Angelus had killed. Andrew who tried to kill her last year, who had tried with Warren to destroy Sunnydale. Who had killed Jonathon. And who hadn’t expressed one moment’s remorse in doing so. She closed her eyes, picturing the short geek who had once given her the Class Protector award. No, she couldn’t mourn for Andrew. But she didn’t like that Angelus felt the need to simply kill him for no reason Buffy could discern. 

Andrew certainly wasn’t a threat to Angelus. He was a threat only to fellow scifi groupies. 

“For so long,” Buffy said slowly as she tried to answer Angelus’ question, “I thought it was my destiny to die. Oh, not just to die young like every other slayer that too, but to die fighting Glory. To be the one to close the portal rather then Dawn; to be the one to sacrifice because I couldn’t let my little sister die. And it was, and I did and that was that; it was all I allowed myself to believe.” 

She sighed, unconsciously burrowing closer to Angelus’ cool, hard body. She may not have forgiven him for a great many things, may not ever stop mourning Angel, may not have accepted him completely in her life, but she had accepted him in her bed. And her heart, bruised and battered as it was, desperately wanted to accept the solace he offered her. She loved him, and she wasn’t letting him go. Not now. Not ever.  

“Until they brought me back,” Buffy continued. “I spent a lot of time being angry about that; depressed, hurt but I didn’t tell them where I had been for a very long time. That lie of omission tore us apart, but I didn’t care then, it was too painful…. Even with Angel; I so desperately wanted to take comfort in you,” Buffy said as she turned in Angelus’ arms, speaking to the golden glow in his eyes. The soul he hadn’t managed to rid himself of. The demon who had lurked so close to the surface when they’d met that one day. “Because I knew if I could just get to you,” and they both knew she meant the demon and the soul, “Then everything would be okay.” Buffy sighed, remembering those horrible and painful days.  

“I didn’t know why you – Angel – couldn’t see how desperately I needed you, and I didn’t want you – either of you – with me because of pity, so I gave Angel want you both seemed to need so you could return to your life.” 

Angelus growled a low rumble that told her what he thought of that. Angel was quiet within the demon – he’d returned to the life that no longer held meaning for him. Not to Cordelia, as Buffy probably assumed, but to an empty life because Buffy hadn’t wanted him in hers. They – Angel and Angelus – knew something was wrong with their mate, but Buffy never said what. And short of tying her to the bed – something Angelus had suggested and Angel had rejected after serious consideration – she wasn’t going to say what that something was. 

She shrugged and added; “Now I know that my destiny is to hold all the power of all the slayers, and to fight the First.” His arms tightened around her, and she was unaware of the sigh that left her parted lips. Contentment spread throughout her body. 

“I held on before, because I knew I had people here counting on me, depending on me to be daughter, sister, friend, lover. My mother died. My lover left me years before,” she said pointedly, obviously referring to Angel. “And even Riley left me; not that he was much of a prize to begin with.” 

She shrugged, “Now…now my friends are dead, my support network is gone and I have no one left. Now the only thing I have left worth fighting for is the fact that without me, the First will control the world, molding it into Its own personal demonic playground. And I won’t,” she swore, “Let what happened to Willow and Xander, and the others be all for nothing.” 

“You have no one, Buffy?” Angelus whispered in her ear, softly though not in an attempt to seduce, more so not to break the tone she had set. And not to let her pull further away. She was on the edge, something he hadn’t realized in LA, so very close to shattering. For someone who prided himself on his observation skills, the demon had missed this one. 

“Not even me?” 

“Dawn doesn’t need me, Angelus,” Buffy said as if she hadn’t heard him. “She doesn’t need me to take care of her anymore, she’s probably better off without me, frankly. Look what I’ve managed to do to her so far; not exactly stellar parenting there. I was nothing more than a child myself; a child trying to raise another child. Besides, I keep losing the people I love, and there’s never anything I can do about it. Maybe away from me she’ll stand a better chance at that highly valued normal life everyone keeps raving about.” 

Buffy watched his eyes, wondering what went on behind that cool mask of his. Her hand came up to touch his face, the smooth plane of forehead, the broad cheekbones. “Giles has been gone for a very long time. He left shortly after I returned from the dead,” her voice was flat and unemotional, but Angelus heard the wealth of pain behind it, and knew he was the only one able to do so. He and perhaps he detested alter-ego, but Angel was forever trapped away from Buffy. 

“The only reason he’s back now is because once more Buffy is needed to fight, to protect, to again make the hard choices. As soon as this ends, and should he survive, he’ll leave again as well. And you? I didn’t know I had you; last I heard you all trying to destroy the world with the First, lover.” 

Hope. There was a spark of hope in Angelus, hope that she wasn’t completely lost within herself. For he knew that should she survive this – and he’d make damned sure she did – Angelus was sure that Buffy would close herself off, living whatever life she had left as a recluse. Recluse was fine, but he’d never let her leave him. Never. Hadn’t he just spent the last hour drilling that into her head? 

“So you’d rather die?” He growled the words, harsh and sharp, and his arms tightened around her waist at the thought. She wasn’t going to die, not without him at least. The fact that he knew her to be nearly as immortal as he, was something; but that loneliness ultimately led to an isolated life, one which, he silently promised her, she wasn’t going to ever experience. 

No, he’d be with her every step of the way.                       

Buffy kept her eyes closed as she buried her face deep within the crook of his neck. Pondering the remote possibility of that ever happening now, of her death becoming a reality, Buffy wondered why Angelus said nothing. It wasn’t like her demon to be this quiet and accepting.  

 “At least then I had peace. It was peaceful and calm and hopeful. And I could rest, finally I could rest. I seemed to always be fighting, always someone else’s personal killing machine. They pushed the buttons, and I’m the one to bleed and sacrifice while they remain distant and obscure, safely uninvolved. My friends, the Powers, they’re all the same.” 

“I won’t let you leave me, Buffy,” Angelus vowed as he felt her drifting off to sleep, “Not again, never again, my heart.” 

“I know,” she agreed as she let her body fall into the sleep it needed. 

They fell asleep, wrapped in each other’s arms as the sun climbed high in the sky. Dawn checked on them once; smiling when she saw their positions, and noting the fact that they were most likely naked under the sheet. If they weren’t awake an hour before sunset, she’d go back. But for now, they deserved this rest. Even if it was the evil soulless demon with her sister, at least Buffy was happy.  

She hadn’t been that way for a very, very long time.  
~~~~~~~~~~  
Buffy woke slowly, feeling more rested than she had in ages. Her body no longer ached, the shakes she had endured for the past day were absent, and she felt an overwhelming sense of peace and safety. 

It was a feeling she hadn’t felt in years.

She knew, without a doubt, she lay wrapped securely in Angelus’ arms, and that was part of the reason for her peaceful feeling.  

Turning her head to look at the vampire holding her, Buffy couldn’t help the soft wistful smile that graced her face. She did love him, more than anything in this world or the next. She loved his soul, his smile, his heart, and his compassion, his eyes when they lit on her, his body as it complimented hers. She loved his face, human and demonic, and she loved his demon. Loved the possession the demon felt for her, the raging need. The way he’d stalked her through LA, the way he professed his love.

“Going somewhere, lover?” Angelus asked as Buffy tried to ease quietly from their bed. 

“Did you mean it?” She asked instead, turning her head to look at the naked vampire behind her. “Are you going to stay and fight? No tricks, no going back on your word? You’ll stay and help me defeat the First?” 

For a moment Angelus looked at her quietly, his eyes hooded from her probing gaze. “Yes,” he said finally, voice low and honest. “I meant it. For you, and only for you, my love, I’ll do anything. Even help defeat the First Evil.” 

“And afterwards?” She asked, knowing that there was more. With Angelus, there always was. 

“Afterwards,” he purred, his cool fingers slipping around her waist, dancing over her heating flesh. “I’ll show you all the delights of the world. And all the pleasures of the flesh.” 

His mouth slowly worked its way up her spine, and Buffy shivered at the touch. Desire pooled low and hot in her belly, and she turned back into his arms. They still had a little time…
~~~~~~~~~~
She crashed on top of the kitchen countertop. 

Too exhausted to move, Faith stretched out, pillowing her head on her arms, and fell into a deep sleep. Being a slayer had taught her to get sleep when you could; being in jail taught her to sleep deep but lightly – of course slaying did that as well, wasn’t her life just full of fun experiences. It all worked to her advantage when she heard footsteps in the room. 

They were quiet, but Faith woke instantly anyway. She stayed perfectly still, keeping her breathing even, and waited to see what the owner of those footsteps did. She was unprepared for the blanket that gently fell atop her, and the sound of the refrigerator door opening.

Jerking her head up, she looked into the equally startled eyes of Gunn. 

“Oh,” he said obviously, “Sorry, I thought you were asleep. Didn’t mean to wake you.” 

Shaking her head, both in denial of his words, and to clear the sleep from her muddled brain, Faith said, “No, no you didn’t. I’m good.” Hopping off the counter she peaked over his shoulder. “Want to make some of those for me?” 

Nodding, Gunn pulled the bag of frozen ravioli out of the freezer and dumped half the economy-sized bag into a huge bowl before placing the bowl in the microwave. Grabbing a jar of sauce from the refrigerator, he waited for Faith to grab two glasses before pouring iced tea into them. 

“Never figured Angel for a microwave,” Faith said as they waited in uncomfortable silence for the pasta to cook. “Too updated for him and all.”

“He had one at the hotel,” Gunn shrugged, not really wanting to talk about his former boss. “Why wouldn’t he here?” 

“Different times, I guess,” the dark haired slayer said, turning to study the man next to her, “He was different then, when he lived here.” There was a lot she didn’t know about Angel, but then again, the same could honestly be said for everyone here. None of them had ever really taken the time to get to know one another. Not really. 

“Yeah, well, he won’t be needing that any longer, will he?” Gunn asked in a blank voice that didn’t fool Faith. 

Faith sighed, “Let me explain the lore here, big guy, okay?” Sarcasm was heavy in her voice as she looked across at Gunn. “They have this forbidden love of all time; Buffy has always been in love with Angel. When Angelus came along a while back, it didn’t matter; but her friends were against it, so she listened to them. Because, hey, they were her friends, right? And yet B still loved him, even though she had to kill him.”

“Angel,” Gunn asked, “Or Angelus?”

“Didn’t matter. She split for three months after.” 

Gunn looked at her askance. “Angel did the same thing when he found out Buffy died a coupla years ago.” 

Faith shook her head at that, not surprised at the parallels between them, and continued. “Yeah, not surprised there.” She was surprised that he’d returned, but hey, he’d done a lot of things to surprise her over the years. “Anyway, so B, she still loved him. And when he’s not the sole recipient of her affection and attention? Bad things happen, and the world as we know it falls apart. Literally. Like that time, Angelus tried to kill everyone by opening some stone demon who was going to swallow the world into hell. And this was all because,” Faith finished, “He couldn’t have his precious Buffy.” 

Making sure she still had his attention, Faith added, “So I suggest, big guy, we let him have the girl.” 

“I promised Angel,” Gunn said, with a look towards the door, “That I’d kill him if Angelus ever came out to play.”

Faith laughed. “Haven’t you been listening to anything I’ve said? It’ll never happen. And Buffy won’t let you close enough.” 

The timer beeped, and Gunn jumped at the sound. He grabbed the bowl, scowling at the heat coming off it. Dumping half on Faith’s plate and half on his, he handed her the jar of insta-sauce and dug in. 

“I understand,” Faith said abruptly wondering where the hell those words came from as she took another bite from her ravioli. “I understand what it’s like to feel the kind of rage you’re feeling.” 

Gunn looked at her askance but was silent for a moment as he chewed. He had heard all about her, or as much as Cordelia let spew in a venom-filled diatribe; considering she was the one to suggest the jailed slayer in the first place, Gunn was slightly surprised at that. Wes hadn’t said much, but hadn’t refuted Cordy’s words, either. 

Conspiring with a demon against her friends, murder, attempts on Angel’s life. Jail. 

Still, Angel had accepted her, tried to help her. Before the whole loss of soul thing that was. Could he? Gunn wondered, but had no answers for himself. 

“I guess you do, yeah.” Gunn said eventually, and they sat in silence for a bit. 

“The problem is,” he suddenly continued, “That I know there’s a difference between Angelus and Angel. And I know that it was Angelus who did these things to me, who beat me and tortured me. Who did unspeakable things to Wes and Cordelia and Lorne. Who…” He choked here then, “Who killed Fred.” 

“But you don’t care,” Faith guessed. “You don’t care that they’re basically two different people, and that one would never hurt your friends, but the other would take the greatest pleasure in doing so.” 

“Yeah,” he agreed and looked back at his plate. Food no longer held any appeal to him though he knew his body was going to need it. Still, he couldn’t make himself eat any more. 

“And,” Faith went on, “You want very much to kill Angelus but since there’s no way B is gonna let you, you can’t. We still need him, Angelus wasn’t wrong about that. We need the souled vampire to win this thing, and Angelus is all we got.” 

“Yeah,” Gunn said again. 

“Believe me, Gunn; you don’t want to let that anger fester. Even if you have to take all that anger out on the demons we’re about to fight, you really want to find some kind of release for that rage you’re feeling. Just don’t piss Buffy off,” Faith grimaced and her hand drifted to her belly. “She has this thing about others trying to kill her lover.” 

“Yeah,” he said for the third time, but couldn’t help wondering what Faith meant by that. “Maybe we’ll meet that army you’re talking about. That’ll give me enough demons to fight, right?” 

Faith scowled but her eyes were lost, hurt. “Yeah, plenty of.” 

They sat together for a little longer, talking about nothing much, making plans to visit Vegas after this Harvest thing was over. Faith wondered, but didn’t say anything, about Angelus and Buffy upstairs. Wondered if Buffy had killed the soulless demon, but knowing she had not. 

“Faith,” Buffy said from the kitchen doorway, not wanting to interrupt what looked like quality bonding time with Gunn, and not wishing to waste any more of what little time remained.

“B, hey, you’re awake.” Faith smirked, paused, then added, “I hear you and Angelus got into it last night. Anything you want to tell us?” 

“Not really, no,” the blonde smiled knowing exactly what her sister slayer was asking. Running a hand through her hair, she paused as the late afternoon light glinted off the claddagh ring she still wore. The matching ring encircled Angelus’ finger declaring them wed, declared them each other’s in the most primitive sense. 

Of course, hers was magickally enhanced, and she couldn’t remove it; but Buffy was confident there was a way…should she feel like looking that was. She didn’t. The claddagh bound her to Angelus as surely as it did Angel inside her beloved demon. Buffy couldn’t bring herself to remove that symbol. 

“Do we have any food?” She asked instead, bringing her attention back to the couple still staring at her. They, too, noticed the ring. Faith knew what it meant, having heard about Buffy’s dream. Gunn stared at it, wondering who gave it to her: Angel or Angelus. 

Nodding, Gunn went to the fridge, and pulled out the frozen ravioli and the jar of instant sauce he had put back. “I’ll heat it up if you want,” he volunteered, still giving her sly sideways looks as she sat on one of the stools surrounding the island. “How are you feeling?” 

Buffy’s head jerked up at his question, but she answered as honestly as she could, “Fine, sleep does wonders.” 

Faith didn’t look convinced, but waited until Gunn placed the bowl of microwaved pasta before Buffy. Her eyes caught his, and he nodded once, moving out of the room without another word. “Now tell me the truth, B. How are you really feeling?” 

“Fine, Faith,” Buffy reiterated, taking a bite of the square ravioli she speared with her fork, “I’m just…fine.”

Snorting her disbelief, Faith tried again. “You may be able to lie to Giles and Dawn, and they might even believe you, the potentials know nothing, certainly nothing about who and what you are now. Angelus knows, I’m sure, and am equally sure that he’s none too happy about it.  But it’s me, B, so spill.” 

Swallowing, Buffy shrugged, “Nothing to tell, really. I did the spell, it didn’t work, and I came back here.” 

“Angelus hot on your trail, all ready to kill us all just to get upstairs to you.” Faith said, that smirk still in place. “I assume that things between you two are…?” 

“I don’t know what you want me to answer, Faith,” Buffy sighed. “There’s nothing to tell.” Not really, not to anyone else, that was. 

“Well,” Buffy amended, “Angelus did agree to help us against the First.” 

“What’s his price?” Faith demanded demanded, dark eyes not looking at the slayers. 

“Me,” Buffy said quietly. “All he wants is me.” 

“B,” Faith started, but Buffy cut her off. 

“I know, Faith. But it doesn’t matter.” Faith nodded slowly at that, already knowing that Buffy hadn’t planned on returning after the fight, anyway. 

Faith wanted to ask more; she wanted to know both what it felt like to have all the powers of all the slayers, and how it felt to have your demon follow – you in a berserker rage – across California. But Faith wasn’t sure how to ask and frankly wasn’t sure she truly wanted to know. In theory, it seemed wicked cool to have all the powers of all the slayers within you, but in practice, she doubted Buffy was having all that much fun. 

“The girls and I have been training,” she said instead, “Some are on watch now with Connor. It’s almost nightfall, whatever the First has planned; I don’t think It’s going to wait much longer. I have a bad feeling about it.” 

Nodding, Buffy took her empty plate to the sink and washed it. The sleep had done wonders and, while she hated to admit it, so had Angelus’ blood. The pasta had been decent, but Buffy was still antsy. She was missing something, something besides her toothbrush, she thought as she ran her tongue over her top teeth. 

“I know,” Buffy agreed absently, “Whatever this Harvest is it’s happening soon; Connor agrees. Have you found anything else out about it?” 

“No,” Faith shook her head, “And most of our research was bombed with your house. Sorry about that, by the way. They struck without warning. We weren’t expecting an army of Turok’s and…I’m sorry about Willow.” 

“I know, Faith,” Buffy whispered, tears again pooling in her eyes. “It wasn’t your fault, I know it wasn’t.” 

Uncomfortable with Buffy’s sudden tears, Faith tried desperately to think of a change of subject. “Ah, so, training. We’ve been working on coordination, stakes, and crossbows. Oh, and hand to hand; that’s a little trickier.” Faith shook her head in surrender. “They’re not so good at that.” 

Buffy let out a small laugh, and turned to face her sister slayer. “I imagine. Have you heard anything of Spike?” 

“No, not a peep,” and Faith didn’t seem too upset over that. “There was a rumor about him the other day, but nothing concrete. Something about him being evil again, but I’m not really sure about that. Didn’t you say he had a chip and a soul?” 

“Yeah, but that might not mean much, I suppose.” Just then she felt it, that thing that was missing, the part she knew was just out of her reach. Angelus walked into the room. Buffy was not surprised. 

“Having a soul doesn’t mean much,” he drawled to both women but his eyes held Buffy’s. 

Faith nodded, staring at Angelus for long minutes. She didn’t move, though she wanted to attack, everything within her was screaming for her to do so. “Angelus,” she said quietly. “I hear you’re joining us.” 

Tearing his eyes away from Buffy’s, he looked to Faith for a bare moment. “Yes,” he drawled again, in that slow aggravated tone of his. 

He didn’t say anything else, and Faith wasn’t surprised. She continued to eye him, unconvinced as to his true intentions, unconvinced that he wasn’t going to kill them all, given half the chance. 

“Right then,” Faith said, not wanting to witness anything between the lovers, the whole though nauseated her. With Angel, it was different. Now, now with Angelus, Faith couldn’t imagine. And she wondered how Buffy managed, what made her love the demon as much as the soul. What made Buffy need one as much as the other. But then she never understood her sister slayer. 

“I think we should wake the others,” Faith said, avoiding Angelus’ mocking look. It was as if he knew what she was thinking. “Let them know you’re back, and ready to kick some serious First ass.” 

She stood and made to move out of the kitchen, mumbling. “And let you take over this leader bullshit. I see now that it’s not as great as people say.” 

“You’re doing fine, Faith,” Buffy said softly, but both she and Angelus heard her. “You’re a great leader, and I’m proud of you. You kept everyone together despite…despite the odds. You’re only just beginning.” 

“Hell no, B. I’m done. You lead. Please.” 

“You know what needs to be done, Faith,” Buff said and smiled at Faith. “You know what can happen and how to prevent that. You’re perfect for the job.” 

And then Faith got it. She understood just what was happening. They were both leaving. She wanted, desperately, to rage at them, yell, scream, tear into them for leaving her. Buffy, she knew, had already planned on not coming back, but… 

Damn you, she wanted to say, damn you for deserting me like this! Damn you for leaving me to the next generation of recruits. Damn you for giving me this burden. 

But she didn’t. With difficulty, Faith held her tongue and nodded. It was time, she supposed, that Buffy gave up her position of slayer; even if she was The Slayer now. Faith was the line now. And she, no matter how much she detested it, was responsible for the future. 

“I hate you,” she said but there was a smile in her voice even if she was scowling. “I really, really do.” With that, she turned and walked out of the kitchen, yelling to the room at large to wake the hell up already. Time was a-wasting. 

Angelus stared at Buffy for another moment then, without saying a word, moved to stand next to his beloved. Taking her hand, entwining her fingers with his, bringing her hand up to his lips. 

She said nothing, not with the lust pumping through her body. “We better get out there, there’s still much to do and time is short.” 

Part 6        Part 4

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