“So what’s the plan?” Robin asked as they trudged
through the underbrush.
“Plan?” Gunn repeated, “We have a plan?”
Shock and something close to horror crossed the principal’s face. “We don’t have a plan? Do you people always go into battles with major demonic forces – or is that THE major demonic force? – without a plan?”
Faith shrugged and turned to Gunn. “Yeah, pretty much.”
And then laughed at Robin’s look. “Relax, man,” the slayer said. “Our
plans never work, anyway. The best laid plans and all that garbage.”
“The best laid plans of Mice
and men gang aft agley, and leave you nowt but pain and sorrow, for
promised joy.” Robin’s two companions stared at him, and he added, “It’s
by Robert Burns in his ‘To A Mouse.’”
“Right,” Gunn said in a whisper as they continued to
walk as quietly as they could through the dry undergrowth. He and Robin still
made noise though he didn’t think that Faith, Angelus, Connor, or Buffy did.
Oh to have superpowers. “No matter how we plan, or
what we plan, or what we plan for, something always goes wrong. It’s a fact of
our lives.”
He paused, wondered if there was
anything else he was missing, and decided there was not. He pretty much covered
every eventuality that could – and most likely would – go wrong. “Welcome
to the club.”
Robin grimaced, and shifting his
sword in his hand. Just what he needed. A bunch of heroes who were anything but.
Wasn’t life fun?
Up ahead, Connor looked back,
stopping as the group caught up with them. He could hear their whispering and
their shuffling, but chose not to comment of it. The chances of them actually
sneaking up on the First were ridiculously funny.
“This is the entrance. We’re
going in; Faith you’re with Buffy, she’s waiting for you at the mouth to the
cave.” She nodded and walked forward, heart pounding, adrenaline pumping. This
was it. And it scared her shitless.
Dying to save the world, wasn’t
that Buffy’s gig? When did the mantle fall to her?
Gunn watched as Faith and Connor
walked into the cave and whispered, “Good-bye.”
Robin looked at Gunn and Wesley, and the three took
positions on either side of the cave opening. Gathered at their feet were
several stakes, a flamethrower no one wanted to know how was acquired, extra
swords and battle-axes. Wondering how the three of them were possibly going to
use all the extra weapons, Robin refrained from asking. He didn’t want to
know.
Instead, he asked, “So, you guys never have any plans?”
Gunn chuckled and it felt good to do so. “You have no
idea.”
~~~~~~~~~~
They had three cars and they were all packed to
overflowing.
The SUV Buffy drove to and from LA, Giles sports car, and
Anya’s – formerly Xander’s – sedan were stacked high with weapons,
magickal supplies, remaining books and manuscripts, and whatever food hadn’t
been consumed. The remaining potentials were piled in wherever cracks allowed,
but made it hard for Giles to count those that still lived.
Cordelia’s body, for she had died while everyone else was
fighting, was carefully covered with a thin blanket. They couldn’t possibly
take her, but didn’t want to disrespect the body, either. It seemed wrong
somehow, even knowing what she had done – and would have done. It was going to
be a long ride, especially with Anya driving Xander’s old car, and one of the
potentials, S-something, driving the SUV.
Sighing, and removing his glasses in the time-honored
tradition of meaninglessly cleaning them for the hundredth time, Giles hoped
there was time to properly mourn their losses later.
Dawn was with Tara and Willow, saying the goodbye she never had the chance to say, the Irishman, Doyle, looking on. Magick was still heavy in the air, letting the Giles know that whatever the threesome was doing, it was still protecting everyone. Giles wondered how long that was going to last, how long whomever the three worked for would allow it to last.
Anya walked up to him, arms folded across her chest as they
watched Dawn wipe the tears from her cheeks. “Do we even know where we’re
going?”
“Uh, no?” Giles said, turning to the woman beside him.
“As far away from here as we can get on whatever petrol we have in the tanks.
We’re not stopping until we’re out of California, at least.”
“We’re meeting up someplace?”
“Uh, should have planned that out, first, huh?” At
Anya’s look of disapproval, Giles shrugged. “Vegas? I hear that’s nice
this time of year.”
Dawn walked away from Willow and Tara, and Doyle was
beckoning Giles over to them but the older man heard Anya say, “Works for
me!” And couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped him.
“Giles, you have to leave. It’s not safe here
anymore,” Willow told him urgently as she linked hands with Tara and Doyle.
“Our magick will follow you, but you need to get out of Sunnydale.”
Nodding, he had figured as much, Giles told them,
“We’ve left Angelus’ car near the Magick Box as he wanted, filled with gas
and food for…for everyone.” He refused to even contemplate the idea that
some of them might not survive, that Buffy might not.
Doyle opened his mouth to say something, but closed it
again before he could. Trying again, he said, “Angelus loves the lass, Giles,
always has, always will. If there’s a way to protect her, he’ll do it with
his last breath. Unneeded as it is.”
Giles nodded, as much as he hated to admit it, the demon
loved Buffy as much as the soul. And she needed him both of them. Whatever. “I
know.” Turning to Willow and Tara, he smiled that gentle smile that bespoke of
the affection between the group. “You’re…safe at least?”
“Yes, Giles,” Willow said, and Tara nodded her
agreement.
“We’re doing the right thing, more so than before.”
The blonde witch added.
Wanting to hug the girls Giles instead asked, “Willow,
the slayer spell, what you gave up…why? Why’d you do it? Was it worth it?
Tears gathered in her eyes, but the redhead nodded. “It
was all worth it, Giles. Trust me. Everything worked out as it was meant to.”
“But your children…” his heart broke all over again
as Giles thought of what Willow sacrificed.
“Safe from everything, Giles,” Willow told him in a
soft voice. “As it turns out, they’re where they were always meant to be.
Safe, with their father and mothers.”
Frowning, Giles stared at her for a moment longer before
the implications sunk in. Tara was obviously Willow’s love; Giles long ago
accepted that. But Doyle? That was something he certainly wasn’t expecting,
not ever. Sputtering, he tried to think of something to say but was coming up
blank.
“When Willow agreed to the terms,” Tara explained, “The destiny of her children were in the hands of Amaterasu; the goddess, knowing what was to come and who the children were, offered the unborn children to They Who Shall Not Be Named, the Ancients.”
“It’s not what was foretold, but those prophecies are
tricky buggers,” Doyle finished, “And it all worked as it was supposed to in
the end.”
Still in shock, Giles simply nodded. “Congratulations,
then,” he said to the trio as they began to fade. “Wait!” He called but it
was too late.
“Hurry, Giles, don’t look back. And try not to worry
too much,” Willow’s voice floated down to him from everywhere and nowhere.
“Everything will work out as it was foreseen. This is the one time it’s all
true.”
True? What the bloody hell was she talking about? Hadn’t Doyle just said that prophecies were tricky buggers? “Willow! What the bloody hell are you talking about?!”
He received no answer, not that he really expected one.
Turning back to the waiting vehicles, Rupert Giles finally said goodbye to the
town he’d called home for years, the place he’d found a real family and
acceptance. Dawn smiled at him as he climbed into his car, starting the ignition
with a roar.
“They’ll be okay, right Giles?” The girl asked, and
Giles again remembered how young she really was.
“I have it on the highest authority, Dawn,” he answered
as he led the way out of town and towards Las Vegas, “That everything will
work out just fine.”
And he honestly believed that. This time.
~~~~~~~~~~
The cave was empty when they finally entered it.
The sense that there were demons, and a lot of them,
crawled through each of the beings waiting to fight, but there was no one
present. Connor led the way through the cave, slowly following Angelus, Buffy,
and Faith as they crept through the darkened tunnels. There was definitely
something to be said for enhanced night vision.
The further they went into the labyrinth, the less Angelus
could feel the protection of Doyle and the two women. They were truly on their
own.
The ground was uneven, rocky; pebbles slid from underfoot,
making it harder to be quiet as they went further underground. The air was dank,
smelling of moldy stagnant water and the stench of too many beings in a confined
space. Evil also permeated the air, the smell that one often associates with
malevolence aimed at oneself. It was enough to choke those who needed to
breathe, with its cloying anger and throbbing hatred.
The walls of the caverns were slick with the same moisture
that coated the air, making even that surface difficult to hold onto. Faith
touched the wall, once, to steady herself when her footing gave way as she
climbed over a pile of random stones, and grimaced when her hand came away
covered in slime and mold.
It was difficult to tell how much time passed as the group
made their way through the twists and turns of the dark tunnel, relying on
advanced eyesight and hearing to guide their way. At one point Buffy was sure
that they had made a complete circle and were nearing the entrance; in a way she
was right, the tunnel circled so much that they were back where they started,
only several dozen feet or so below the surface.
It was eerily silent, and continued getting darker the
further they went. Suddenly there was a fork in their path; one the group
wouldn’t have even noticed had a bright glow not come from both openings.
The two openings were on opposite sides of the cavern, and both looked
the same; chances were that they both led to the same place. The strong feelings
of wrongness, of evil weren’t easy to pinpoint, but it didn’t seem to matter
left or right. It poured from both openings equally.
Silently the Angelus looked back at Buffy, and shrugged
when it became clear that he had no idea which way to go. The walls were darker
here, despite the light that shone from further in the tunnels, but still held a
slick, wet look to them. It stunk as well, death and magick, evil and blood, but
none of them could tell where the source came from.
Looking up the smooth walls, to the dome shaped ceiling,
Connor noticed strange paintings there, committing them to memory. He was about
to ask what they meant when Buffy and Faith doubled over.
Tears pooled in their eyes and streamed down their faces as
they fell to their knees, shaking. Angelus was immediately beside Buffy, pulling
her into his arms as he helplessly stroked the hair from her face. An
involuntary growl escaped him as he frantically tried to figure out what was
wrong with her.
“Buffy, love,” Angelus whispered, frantic, “Baby,
what’s wrong?”
“Hurts, Angelus, it hurts so badly.” The words were
strained, and as Buffy raised her eyes to meet his worried brown ones, they were
golden-white with her pain.
Connor was at Faith’s side, quickly bringing the dark
haired slayer to lie on the filthy ground near her blonde counterpart.
Automatically, the slayers reached for each other, weakly trying to pull each
other closer. Angelus, not having a choice, gathered Faith in his arms, too. The
two slayers wrapped their arms around each other, clinging tightly in their
joint pain.
“Buffy,” Angelus said, helplessly, hating that feeling.
But God, he was scared. “Buffy, baby, tell me what’s wrong, tell me what to
do!” His hands ran through her hair, smoothing the locks in the only comfort
he could give.
“Angelus, Angelus,” Buffy moaned but said nothing else, simply clung to him tighter.
“Buffy, love, listen to me,”
Angelus whispered, forcing his own panic and anger down, and trying to calm his
frightened and pained lover. “You have to be strong, lover, you
have to be strong.”
She didn’t respond, and, desperate, Angelus picked her
up, cradling her gently in his arms and, careful not to harm Faith, he quickly
and desperately moved his lover out of the cavern. The moment she was out of the
cavern Buffy stilled, quieting as her system leveled itself. She clung to him
still, unwilling to let him go.
“Connor,” Angelus said in a low voice, confident that
the boy could hear him. “Bring Faith in here!”
Doing as he was told, Connor quickly carried the shaking
slayer back the way they came. In the minute that Buffy was in the other room,
she had considerably calmed, Connor noted, and watched as Faith did the same.
Father and son shared a look, and their eyes flicked back to the cavern they
just stood in.
Connor swallowed the obvious statement: They couldn’t
defeat the army of the First, and the First Itself, without their slayers.
Instead, he offered after a minute, “Maybe if we cross the cavern quickly? Get
to the other side, and hope that the effects of whatever happened to them are
only in that cavern?”
Angelus didn’t want to hear that. He wanted to find out
what had caused his mate so much harm, what had hurt her, whether mystical or
not, and destroy it until all that remained was a distant and unpleasant memory.
He didn’t want Buffy anywhere near that cave, and he certainly didn’t want
her to fight anything.
“There’s no choice,” Buffy whispered, trying to
stand. Angelus caught her to him, his anger clear in his eyes. She didn’t want
to go back there, never wanted to feel something like that again. “We have to
go in there,” she said.
“No,” Angelus growled. “You’re not going in
there.”
Buffy stroked his face with a gentle hand, closing her
eyes. Her hand moved slowly across his cheeks, his lips. “Angelus,” she
admitted, “I love you. But this is what I’m here to do. And it’s what I
need you for.”
“The world can go to hell for all I care,” Angelus
growled. “I’m not losing you.”
Her laugh was hollow, but her eyes held a wealth of emotion
only he could see. “We have things to do, I’m sorry, mhúirnín,”
Buffy said, unaware that she’d spoken Gaelic. “I have to go in there,” she
insisted. “And I need you. If I could,” she dropped her voice even more, so
that only he could hear her. “I’d do it myself, and leave you out of this.
But I need you, baby, I need you in there with me.”
Eyes fluttering in exhaustion, Buffy looked into the
worried ones of her lover. For a moment, her eyes were naked, showing him all
the feelings she had for him, all the love and desire. “Alright,” he agreed,
reluctantly. “But you’re not dying. If you die,” he vowed, reminding her
of his previous statement, “So does this world.”
“T’a gr’a agam dhuit,” she whispered honestly,
again unaware of doing so in Gaelic as he helped her to stand. It didn’t make
the meaning any less as she felt his strong hands hold her upright for a moment
so she could get her bearings.
Buffy’s legs wobbled out from her, and Angelus caught
her, pulling her up tight against his chest, repeating, “T’a gr’a agam
dhuit, my Buffy.” His hand fluttered across her cheek for a moment, and he
smiled at her. He did love this woman, this slayer, with everything in him.
Nothing could change that.
Faith stood with the help of Connor, and the four of them
slowly made their way back to the cave. Right before they entered the room,
Angelus swept Buffy into his arms, and quickly crossed the space, not taking any
chances. Connor shrugged, and did the same with Faith, surprised the slayer
didn’t protest.
Faith was too weak to protest, and she hated that, but she
also didn’t want to stay in that horrible cavern with its scents and feels and
horrors. There was something there that spooked her, that terrified her, but at
the same time made her angry, as if she had something to do there that she
didn’t want to do but that needed to be done.
Connor looked at his father as he put Faith down, and
sensed the vampire’s struggle to protect his mate, to have no harm come to
Buffy. Understood some of what Angel – Angelus – had done and now, he wanted
to take some of that burden away from him.
Doyle had taught Connor not only who he was, but about what
and who Angel really was, too; and how he tried to do the right thing. And about
what Angelus wanted. Only now did Connor fully and finally realize the
differences…and the similarities. He could finally let go of that deep-seated
resentment and anger, the hatred that sprung out of the love he felt for his
father, his real dad.
Refraining from saying anything aloud, Connor pointed to
the left, capturing the others’ attention with his silent assurance. The three
of them shot him puzzled looks, but Connor had no explanation; left just seemed
the way to go.
So they went, hoping it was, indeed, the way to go.
Not far down the path, it began to steeply slope, winding
deeper into the cave before coming to a ledge. Buffy stopped the group before
they could move from the darkness of the cave to the rocky shelf. They crowded
around her, trying to see what she did. Angelus’ hand slipped into hers,
giving her the comfort and reassurance she’d always needed, and only he
(Angel) could give.
Turok-Han’s, thousands of them, gathered around hundreds
of bonfires. Which was kind of strange considering that fire killed vampires,
but maybe they hadn’t gotten that memo. Each Turok held a weapon of some kind,
mace, lance, pike, sword, and they moved around the fires in a kind of weird
dance.
Buffy looked to Faith, who shrugged equally confused. This
was definitely not what they’d expected, that was for sure.
Angelus nudged Buffy’s shoulder, a faint rumbling
vibrating against her back. It was coming from his chest, and Buffy suppressed a
smile; he was angry, and yet the sound aroused her unbearably. Angelus was
pointing off to the right, but quickly turned to face Buffy again.
“I offered, baby,” he whispered, suggestively, with
that sexy half smile of his. “But you refused.” Buffy shot him a frown, but
her eyes danced with lust and amusement. He chuckled, but then moved her around
so she could see what he did.
There, sitting in a large chair that seemed to have been
carved out of the rock it sat on, sat Buffy.
Buffy scowled, and wondered why It always chose her;
hundreds of thousands of dead people to pick, at least a dozen immediate ones
that were connected to the group trying to kill It, and It chose her.
“I really wanted to kill It,” she told Angelus
fiercely, eyes flashing golden. A shot of lust had Angelus leaning down to
capture her mouth in a kiss. He may not have succeeded in turning her, but damn,
the fangs and eyes…he was powerless to resist them.
“Don’t do
anything stupid or rash, lover,” Angelus
warned as he broke away, relieved to be able to say that to her. She gave him a
scare in that cave, one he wasn’t likely to forget anytime soon.
She shot him an incredulous look. “Now you’re the
voice of reason? We’re here, a
grand total of four of us, fighting an army the population size of a small
country, and you want me start the fight rationally?”
“Didn’t say
that, baby,” Angelus scowled
down at her, sucking on her pouty lower lip.
“I simply meant that I didn’t
want you doing anything stupid or rash. I don’t care about the rest of this
pathetic lot. But you’re the leader, no matter what that other one thinks,”
he looked at Faith dismissively. “And what you do, they follow. So don’t do
something stupid that’s going to make me angry. Or,” he added, eyes glowing
red, “That’s going to put you in danger.”
“No danger,”
she sighed, kissing him quickly before pulling away. “Right.”
Plus, she knew that Angelus cared for Connor, in his own
way, or the boy would have been in worse shape than Wes, Gunn, and Cordy
combined.
Angelus scowled, but drew her attention back to the matter
at hand. He leaned down, placing his lips as close to her ear as he could.
“Baby, do you think there’s some way you can use the power of the slayers
to, I don’t know, vaporize them or something?” Buffy choked on a laugh, and
she felt Angelus smile against her skin; she suppressed the shiver of need.
“I don’t know, but I don’t think I can do that. The
slayer powers don’t really work like that, I’m not,” she continued to
whisper into his ear, “Entirely sure how they do work, but I don’t think I
can just call on them. Not for something this big at least.”
Nodding, secretly relieved that Buffy wouldn’t have to
put her life in any more danger than just being here placed her, Angelus turned
to Connor and Faith. Connor met his father’s eyes, and was about to suggest
that they head back and bring in some kind of bomb-like thing. He had no idea
what type would be needed, having only seen one on TV over the summer when Fred
and Gunn were ‘watching’ him, but he knew what they were, at least.
And then they were spotted.
The cry went up lightening quick and spread across the cavern. Growls echoed throughout the large dome structure, creating a clamoring of sound that hurt the ears. Buffy’s eyes locked with the First’s and It smiled.
“I’m so gonna kill It,” she muttered again. Angelus
agreed, and let his own feral smile grace his features.
Before they knew it, Turok-Hans were climbing up the steep
wall, trying to get to their position. Connor took his stance with his father
and the two slayers. He may have been an Ancient, or a potential one, or
something like that, but he enjoyed a good fight as much as his companions.
“Ready?” Buffy asked, looking at Faith as she did so.
“You betcha, B. It’s been real,” the dark haired
slayer said, holding her sword aloft.
Buffy returned Faith’s smile, anticipatory and wild as it
was, and wondered how to say everything that needed to be said. But then Faith
smiled again, and the moment passed. Switching her gaze to Angelus, Buffy smiled
at him, too, “Love you, baby.”
In the second before the first Turok vaulted over the side,
she heard him say, “I love you Buffy, don’t ever forget that.”
“I won’t,” was her only reply.
Then they were there, and the small group of four was now,
literally, fighting for their lives. Beheading was the only way to kill the
Turok’s, well that and tossing them into the bonfires, and those were too far
away. Buffy tried to focus on the slayers within her vying for attention; they
wanted in on this fight, wanted to be a part of destroying the power base the
First had erected.
Buffy was more than happy to let them in on the fun, but
other than giving over her senses to them, allowing them to guide her every
move, she didn’t know what else to do. So she arced her sword through the air,
the blessed one she hadn’t known Giles had kept until recently. Gods, she
hated this sword. And let every slayer sense guide her every move.
Angelus roared his charge, and purposely positioned himself
between as many of the attackers and Buffy as he could. He didn’t care that
she was more than capable of taking care of herself, and that immortality was
hers. Invincibility was a very different issue Angelus wasn’t ready to test
just yet. His or hers.
His superior strength, thanks to that rebirth at the hands
of the True First Vampire, allowed him to fight faster, move quicker. And he
used it to his advantage, parrying every vamp that scaled the cave walls,
keeping an eye on Buffy as he did so, worried for her, and, though he didn’t
want to admit it, his son.
It also allowed his mind to go into a kind of autopilot as
he moved with the flowing tide of vampires, beheading as many as he could before
the beasts truly overran their precarious position. His thoughts drifted to
Buffy, and just how he planned to keep her safe when faced with several thousand
adversaries.
Faith was in her element, her passion for the hunt
blossoming as she fought. This was what she was made for; this was what she was
always meant to do. And she loved every second of it. Okay, so she’d really
like to see Gunn again, and she wanted to hang with B some more, that slayer
bond they shared the first few months she’d been in Sunnydale was beginning to
reassert itself when Buffy headed to LA and Angelus/Angel.
She wanted to thank Angel for helping her, believing in
her; but as that wasn’t happening anytime soon, she didn’t want Buffy to
know she planned on asking Giles if there was a way to re-curse Angelus. And she
wanted to go to Vegas, relax in a spa for a week or so, and forget this cavern.
But more, Faith discovered, she wanted to fight to win. And to do that, she had
to focus all her energies on avoiding the bloodbath the Turok’s had in mind
for them.
The power of all the slayers before her might not flow
through her veins, but power did; hers and theirs.
“Connor, behind you!” Faith shouted.
The would-be Ancient ducked out of reflex, spinning to the
side as a small group of brown fur covered demons attacked from behind. Wherever
the other demons were hiding, they had heard the sounds of battle and wanted to
join. Perfect, the more the merrier, right? Connor never really did understand
that line.
He couldn’t focus on his surroundings enough to do
anything, but what Holtz and Angel had trained him to do with his sword and
battle-axe. He only needed a few seconds to concentrate on the other power
flowing through him, but the advancing army wasn’t about to give him that
time.
Moving closer to where Angelus fought back-to-back with
Buffy, both moving in complete synchronization with the other, Connor joined
them, calling for Faith as he did so. When the younger slayer looked over,
distracted for a bare second, the talons of a nearby vamp sank into her arm, and
she screamed.
The scent of blood, and slayer blood at that, sent the
hoards into more of a frenzy than they already were. The attack redoubled, and
Connor had a sinking feeling that he wasn’t going to manage his few seconds
now. Cursing himself, Connor moved away from Buffy and Angelus, and went to help
Faith.
Standing back to back with her, he tried to concentrate
again. A small avalanche was his reward, and the falling rocks knocked several
vampires to the ground below, at least one falling into the bonfires, and
combusting on the spot.
“Nice,” Faith said, but didn’t stop fighting. She
couldn’t, Connor’s little avalanche had helped the immediate problem, but
certainly not the long range one. The Turok’s were still advancing, angrier
now that their fellows were dust in the wind.
“That’s all you have?” Angelus demanded,
concentration still on Buffy.
“Hey,” Connor snarled as he sliced through a
particularly ugly green skinned thing that reminded him or Lorne. “At least I
had something to contribute to the plan.”
Angelus sneered, but said nothing.
Buffy looked at Faith. “We have a plan?”
“Beats me,” Faith grunted. “The planning’s up to
you, blondie. I just tag along.”
“Great,” Buffy mumbled, “Just what I needed to hear.” She stopped in mid swing, cleaving the advancing Turok only enough to get him really angry. He roared in pain and backhanded her across the ledge.
Angelus was there in a second, finishing Buffy’s job in one forceful swing.
Hauling his dazed lover up, he kept her close to his side as he used his ax to
fend off the approaching demons. “Baby?” He asked, arm tight about her
waist. “Buffy, what happened?”
“I know what needs to be done,” she whispered, still
not truly paying attention to what was going on around them. She felt Angelus,
strong and solid beside her, his strength somehow augmenting hers. She felt
Faith, her sister slayer weakening across the ledge, even her slayer strength no
match for the thousands of Turok-Han’s and other miscellaneous demons who had
answered the First’s call to arms.
And she felt Connor. The son of two vampires, who was
prophesied to be the Destroyer. Not the Destroyer of that hell dimension Holtz
had kidnapped him to. But the destroyer of hell.
“Sajan,” Buffy said quickly. “What was he?”
“Huh?” Angelus asked, moving a step backwards to better
speak with her. “Lover, this isn’t exactly the best time to have a
conversation. If you want to talk, we’ll leave now, but you made me promise to
come on this little safari, and not leave.”
Buffy waved that off with a faint smile. “Right, right, I
know. But answer the question. Sajan, he was some time shifty thing, right?”
“Yes,” Angelus sighed, moving them behind Faith and
Connor. If they were going to have this conversation – or any conversation,
really – then he wanted Buffy protected. “Claimed to be from the distant
past, smelled that way, too. All sacks and ashes. Incorporeal, but still
possessing enough power to do a bit of damage.”
“And his purpose for wanting Connor dead?” Buffy
demanded, eyes on Angelus as he fought to keep them alive.
“Baby, I’d love to discuss anything you want, whenever
you want, but could you maybe pick up your sword again?” Angelus grunted,
still wielding his weapon one-handed. “I don’t mind playing the knight in
shining armor, love,” he added, and Buffy seemed to snap out of her state.
“Oh,” she said sheepishly when Angelus trailed off.
“Sorry.” She stepped to the side, allowing room between she and Angelus, so
they could both fight. “Where was I?”
“Discussing my son’s enemies,” Angelus easily
reminded her as he regained his fighting balance.
“Right.” Buffy swung her sword with renewed vigor and
asked, “So this Sajan?”
“I don’t know. He didn’t seem to be working for
anyone, just himself.” Angelus crouched low, avoiding a club-wielding Turok.
“Why so many questions, love?”
“If Connor’s the Destroyer,” Buffy theorized, “Then
what’s he destroying? Demons? All well and good,” she added as they moved
away from Faith and Connor, giving all four of them enough room to fight. “But
the title’s a little auspicious just for that.”
She danced closer to Angelus in the bloody ballet they were
performing together, wondering if some of his recklessness had somehow bled into
her. Sending him a mischievous smile, Buffy blew him a kiss. “But, if he’s
meant to destroy the First…”
Angelus locked eyes with her, his sword sliding smoothly through a Turok’s neck, sending its ashes raining down on his comrades below. “Then he has to have the power to do so.”
“Exactly,” Buffy smiled, triumphant. Faith cried out
then, catching the couple’s attention. Buffy rushed to her sister slayer’s
side, Connor still fighting the demons that descended on them.
“Connor,” Buffy called, catching the boys’ attention.
“You have to stop them.”
“I’m trying,” he shot back, and could all but feel
Buffy’s scowl of displeasure.
“Not what I meant, smart ass,” she mumbled, looking
down at Faith. “Well,” she told the other slayer, “It’s not as bad as
you’ve had, but then these Turok’s don’t understand the subtleties, do
they?” With one fast move, Buffy pulled the pike out of Faith’s middle.
The scream caught everyone’s attention, but only for a
moment before they went back to fighting. Seeing the downed slayers, a band of
Turok’s turned on the two, brandishing clubs, swords, and pikes with a
ferocity that made their already disfigured faces more so.
A lucky shot caught Buffy in the back, sending her flying
atop Faith. Her shout brought Angelus’ attention to them, his roar echoing
throughout the cavern, pain and anger cutting through the vampires and demons.
It all came back to immortal vs. invincible; and he
wasn’t yet sure what the implications of that the Slayer Spell were.
“Buffy, are you hurt?” He asked, his hands running down
her back in panic. He could see cuts closing before his eyes; a particularly
nasty gash on right side was knitting more slowly, but still closing quickly,
faster than even she healed. She seemed fine, but he still worried.
“Angelus,” Buffy said softly, “Baby, relax. Honey,
I’m fine.” He stopped then, pulling her into his crushing embrace and kissed
her briefly.
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