The day went slowly. Everyone was tired of research, mostly tired of not finding answers. Angel and Buffy never left each other’s sides as doubt of the success of the ritual began to creep into their minds. They sparred in the training room for a while, working out the nerves that fluttered inside. Conversation was kept at a minimum by silent agreement.

Just before nightfall Spike showed up. Taking Angel aside for a moment while Buffy returned a book to its shelf, he told him. “Can’t bloody well kill you if I don’t know where you are. You’ve never told me where this thing’s going to happen.”

“We don’t know,” Angel admitted.

Spike looked slightly amused. “Still? All these little busy little bees buzzing around and you still haven’t gotten the invitation?”

Angel shook his head, frustrated. “Maybe it’s not really going to happen. Maybe we got all worked up for nothing.”

Spike shrugged and walked to the fridge, helping himself to a mug of blood. The night continued to crawl by, everyone having pretty much abandoned research as the evening grew later. Oz sat on the floor meditating, as Willow said he had done the night before, holding the wolf in. Inspired, Willow began to chant, asking the gods for guidance and help. The moon rose high in the sky.

Hours had passed when Cordy, sitting at the table playing solitaire, suddenly shouted from the front of the shop. She doubled over as a vision struck. Everyone rushed to her side. “What do you see?” Gunn asked, holding her hand.

“Out back. Vampires. And a family. Gonna kill them all. Go!” she shouted, pointing to the back door. Everyone ran to the alley behind the shop and witnessed two vampires preparing to make a meal of a family of four.

Buffy raced to them, quickly followed by Angel and Spike. Xander and the rest hung back by the door, prepared in case the fight should come their way.

“You guys didn’t get the memo, did you?” Buffy asked the vampires. They had whirled around as the door to the magic shopped open and now stood, the family backed against the wall. “The one that said no one eats people in my town?”

“We killed the messenger,” one said.

Buffy looked mildly surprised. “Wow…one who’ll actually banter with me.”

The other vampire looked confused and turned to his partner. “We ate a messenger? Who was it? That old lady?”

His friend rolled his eyes. “Idiot,” he hissed.

“Help us,” the mother of the family cried out weakly.

The less-intelligent vampire turned around. “Shut up!” he screamed at her. As he turned, Buffy struck, whipping a stake out from beneath her sleeve. He was dusted before he could even turn back around. Angel took advantage of the commotion and grabbed the other vamp by his shoulders. Swinging him around until he crashed into the brick wall, Spike popped up underneath Angel’s arm and drove a stake through the vamps’ chest.

The three fighters stopped and looked at each other. “We ate the messenger?” Buffy asked, smirking.

They turned and walked back into the shop, taking seats once again at the table. Suddenly Angel looked around. “Where’s Cordy?” he asked.

Everyone turned to look around the shop. “Cordy?” Xander called out.

“Change that to where are Cordy and Gunn?” Buffy said, moving swiftly around the shop. “Cordelia? Gunn?” she shouted. She turned back to her friends. “They’re gone.”

“I’ll look in the training room,” Giles said and rushed to the back.

“Maybe they’re out front?” Oz asked and walked to the front door. He stepped outside, looking up and down the street.

“Where would they have gone? Maybe her vision was a painful one?” Anya asked.

Angel shook his head. “No, Gunn wouldn’t have taken her anywhere without telling us.”

Everyone stared at each other, a little shocked and scared. The sound of a door shutting came from the back of the shop. “Giles?” Buffy called. “Did you find them?” There was no answer. She took a step towards the training room. “Giles?” she called, softly. Fear entered her heart and she rushed to the training room, followed by everyone else, only to find it vacant.

“Oz!” Willow cried suddenly, horrified, and ran back to the front of the shop. She threw open the door to find an empty street. “Buffy!” she cried. “He’s gone! Where is he? He’s gone!”

“I don’t know,” she said, grasping her friend's hand. “But we’ll find him.” She turned to Angel. “Vamps?” she asked him.

He shook his head, uncertain. “That doesn’t feel right,” he said.

“Anyone else starting to feel like the cast of Clue?” Xander asked, panic rising in his voice.

“Everyone stay here,” Buffy ordered. “Spike, Angel, we’ll do a perimeter search. Spike, you check the roof. Angel, out back. I’ll go out front.”

As they moved quickly to each of their locations, Spike climbed up the ladder at the far end of the shop that led to the roof. He pushed open the trap door and slowly climbed out, keeping an eye out for an ambush. He moved silently around the roof, careful to check behind the massive air-conditioning unit where anyone could easily hide. “Nothing,” he muttered, standing on the edge, looking out over the street. Movement below caught his attention. It was Willow, walking slowly down the street. What the hell is she doing? “Hey! Red!” he yelled out to her. Willow continued to walk woodenly.

More movement to his left. It was Xander, walking as stiffly as the witch was. Spike stared at them. “Where the bloody hell are you going?” he shouted. No reply. He watched them walk, watched as Anya, then Wesley followed them a few moments apart. “Okay…time to get Peaches and the Slayer,” he said to himself, and darted back down into the shop, just as Buffy and Angel ran back inside. They stared at the empty room where they had left four people just minutes before.

“This way, they’re leading you,” Spike called, heading for the front door.

“How did they get past us? We weren’t gone more than a few minutes. I didn’t see anything!” Buffy shouted as they ran down the street.

“No will of their own!” Angel shouted back. “There! Look!” Up ahead was one of the many Sunnydale cemeteries. Wesley was just entering the front gates, trailing Anya by only a few feet. The three slowed down and crept along the fence, watching their friends carefully. Entering the cemetery they took a sharp turn and went up a hill that overlooked the town. Standing in an incomplete circle were their friends. They watched silently as Anya and Wesley took their places, completing the sphere. The circle was wide, with perhaps five or six feet in between each person.

Spike, Buffy and Angel hid in the trees, observing. Their friends stood, facing inwards, staring ahead. They didn’t blink. They didn’t move. All outside sound had ceased and the night was eerily quiet. The full moon overhead provided light, but the circle had a glow of its own; white light centered over each person.

“I guess you got your where and how part, luv,” Spike whispered to Buffy.

She turned to him, dread in her eyes. “I’m not ready for this.”

He gave her a sad smile. “I think you are.”

She gulped and turned to Angel. “Oh God,” she whispered, placing her hands on his chest.

He hugged her to him, hard. “You can do it,” he said, his voice breaking. “I know you can.”

“So can you,” she told him.

He nodded but she saw the uncertainty in his eyes. They turned with one last glance at Spike, and walked to the circle. “God help you,” Spike whispered as they walked off. He waited for them to get just outside the circle, then moved in more closely. If Buffy would need him, he wanted to be nearby.

Buffy stopped before they could enter and peered around Willow to see inside. She turned to Angel once more. “I love you,” she told him. “Remember that.”

“You too,” he told her, squeezing her hand.

They entered in between Willow and Oz, and a warm, tingly feeling came over them. The energy inside the circle was powerful. Buffy looked around at her friends. “Will?” she called softly.

“I don’t think they can hear us,” Angel said to her. She waved her hand in front of Willow’s unblinking stare. No reaction. Slowly she backed away and made it to the middle of the ring.

“What do we do now?” she asked, holding his hands tightly. “How do we know when to start? Or, what to do for that matter?”

“I don’t know…I guess we just wa—aaahh!” he cried as he pitched forward. He fell to his knees and Buffy stumbled backwards. “Oh God,” he whispered painfully. He raised his head to her. “Buffy…”

She scrambled back to him and knelt. “You can do it,” she told him, holding his face in her hands, forcing their eyes to hold onto one another. “You can! Fight him!”

He swayed, then crashed into her. She held him closely. “I love you, I love you,” she repeated over and over.

Angel moved back from her and fell to the ground, writhing in pain. He twisted from his stomach to his back to his stomach again, clawing at the ground. After a moment he quit thrashing as much until he lay on the ground silently, his back to her.

“Angel?” Buffy asked quietly, taking a step to him.

He lifted his head off the ground at her voice, then pushed himself to his knees. Running a hand through his hair he made note of his surroundings. Suddenly, as if sensing she was behind him he turned to her, a look of love in his eyes. “Buffy?”

She nodded, offered him a smile, and her hand to help him stand up. He smiled back at her, took her hand and caressed it lovingly. He moved onto one knee as he struggled to stand up, then suddenly tightened his grip on her hand, crushing it. But she was ready for him. Taking advantage of his grip she pulled him toward her with all her might, sending him sailing past her and crashing to the ground.

He looked up at her, his eyes hurt, pain shooting through his body. “Buffy? What did you do that for? I…I---oh, never mind!” he laughed suddenly, giving in. “I can’t keep this up…I’m just so excited to see you again, Buff!” he cried jubilantly, springing to his feet and dusting himself off. “It’s been such a long time. You don’t call, you don’t write…”

“Sorry, Angleus…been busy. Killing a lot of your friends, actually,” Buffy said, her eyes steely but her voice light.

“Is that so?” he asked, flicking a piece of grass from his jacket. “Looks like you’ve brought all yours out for my big night…nice of you to bring food to the party.”

“You know you’re not getting out of here alive,” she told him. “Only Angel and I get to perform that trick.”

He walked over to Willow and went to poke her cheek when his hand was repelled from her by an invisible field. He turned to Buffy, a wicked gleam in his eye. “I’m eating her first,” he told her.

Buffy cocked her head to one side, unimpressed. “Not gonna work this time, Angelus. I can banter all night, although for your sake, you might want to get this over with before sunrise. Nothing you say is going to throw me off my guard. In the end, I’m still going to kick your ass.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Well, look at you. All grown up now, aren’t you Buff? And still all alone, from what I understand. Hell, even I left you…again! Yes sir…I was alone for a long time too. Well,” he said, considering, “there was Darla. Sadly, she couldn’t turn me, it wasn’t perfect happiness, but the night was still…memorable. Gonna have to look her up,” he paused, glanced at her mockingly. “Tell her that her boy's back in…well, just back, actually.”

“Good luck with that,” Buffy said, stiffly, trying to keep her voice light and having no idea what Angelus was talking about.

“Oh! And let’s not forget the last time you and I were…intimate. Oh, wait. You don’t remember that, do you?”

She remained on alert, in fighting stance. “What?”

“The day! The day that wasn’t!” he cried, circling her. “You know! God…you’ve been hinting enough about it these last few days…the day the Powers That Be made me mortal. Gosh...what's it been? Five, six years? November, if I recall. Thanksgiving, in LA. When I became human," he practically spat the word. "The day you and I last made love…made plans for our future. That is, until I decided that being a vampire was more my style, and that being with you wasn't all it was cracked up to be, and I asked for the day back."

He grimanced for a moment. "Of course, the damn Powers That Be couldn't fulfill all my wishes, I was still stuck with this wretched soul, but..." he shrugged and returned his gaze to her with a grin. "You don’t remember…they saw to that. Good for me, actually. The look on your face right now…I tell you! I wish I had a camera.”

Buffy was floored. “You’re lying,” she spat at him, but she knew it was true. Somehow, despite common sense, she knew that day had existed in some reality.

“You know I’m not,” he said, grinning. “But, enough about me,” he said, springing forward. He threw punches at her, then kicked her legs out from underneath her. She crashed to the ground, landing on her back, and bent her knees. Kicking out with both legs she knocked him backwards and sprang to her feet, backing up.

Suddenly his eyes gleamed a bright orange and he gasped in pain. She remembered this look. “Buffy?” he rasped. “Buffy…it’s me, do it now…” She grabbed her stake from the small of her back and rushed to him, ready to dust him when he fell to the ground in agony again. “No...wait...He’s coming…I can’t,” he started to say, and collapsed to the ground. When he looked up, he was Angelus again.

“Ah ah ah…doesn’t work that way!” he said, wagging a finger at her, and jumped up, meeting her head on. She punched him in the face, once, twice, ducked his punch and received a kick to the ankle. She flipped backwards, putting some distance between them.

“Angel!” she shouted. “Angel, you can do it! Please!”

“Angel’s not home right now,” he said, moving closer to her.

“It’s not so hard this time, you know,” she said to him.

“What’s that, my love?”

“Killing you.” She ran and jumped in the air, kicking straight out. He fell to the ground and rolled to the side. She ran straight for him grabbing him by the feet. Pulling with all her might she flipped him end over end. He landed on the ground with a crash but rolled quickly to the side, dodging a kick. She backed off to the far end of the circle. Angelus stood and they faced off.

“Angel,” Buffy said calmly. “I don’t want to hurt you anymore.”

He looked surprised. “Was all that supposed to hurt?”

She ignored him. “Angel, fight it!” she shouted to him.

He rolled his eyes. “Oh, would You. Just. Stop. Yammering!” he cried. “Angel can’t win. His mortal side isn’t strong enough, Slayer. What? Did you think his love for you would win over my hate?” Her eyes flickered but she remained silent.

Angel walked over to Cordelia. “I can’t believe how much I’m going to enjoy draining Cordy. She talks more than you do. Not as cute, but still…quite the hottie. Maybe I’ll turn her…locating Darla could take a while…I could use a distraction.”

“Are you done yet?” Buffy asked, placing her hands on her hips, bored. “’Cause frankly, this isn’t turning out to be quite the party I had expected.”

Angel turned to her, raising his eyebrows. “No? Huh. I guess you’re right. Really, I thought it would be over by now. Well, that you’d be over by now. At this point in the evening I’d pictured myself gutting Xander, but…I’m flexible.”

“Flexible, huh? Let’s see,” she said and charged him. Just as she reached him she ducked and flipped him over her back. Turning quickly she grabbed his arms and rolled him over onto his stomach, wrenching his arms behind him. There was a resounding pop as his shoulder dislocated. She straddled him and grabbed his hair then slammed his face into the ground. “Oooh…guess your shoulder doesn’t bend that way,” she taunted, wrenching his arm even harder. He shouted in pain. “Now, you were saying…” she began when he bucked, throwing her off balance. She landed hard on her hip, releasing his arms as she fell. He was on her in a moment.

“I remember you were pretty flexible, Buff,” he hissed, his face inches from hers. “A little naïve, a little…oh, let’s say…inexperienced, but limber as hell.” Fear entered her eyes as he held down her arms, straddled her legs, immobilizing her. “Whaddya say…want to show me how grown up you are? I could give you some pointers, you know...a little coaching. I mean, you did fine earlier, but...”

She struggled beneath him. “Go to hell,” she whispered.

“I at least expected an original comeback, something with a little punch. But…it’s understandable. You’re not on your game right now, what with the impending death of yourself, all your friends…most of the city…” He grinned.

She closed her eyes, swallowed hard. “So that’s the plan? Kill me, then kill all my friends?”

He shrugged. “Something like that. Let’s not count out the idea of turning Cordelia. Maybe Willow, too. Vamped Willow was…delicious. All that leather, I guess. Maybe I’ll start a harem…”

“How soon are you going to kill me?” Buffy asked.

He gave her a remorseful smile. “Now, now…where’s the fun in that if I just tell you?”

She cocked her head to the side, looking behind him. “Well, I only ask because since Spike here is planning to shove that stake through your back, so it might be kinda difficult,” she said. Angelus whipped his head around behind him and saw…

...nothing. Buffy made her move. She thrust both her legs up as hard as she could, kicking him in the groin. Screaming in agony he released her arms and fell to the side in pain. Buffy rolled in the opposite direction and sprang to her feet. “Sucker,” she said, and grabbed him by the ears, hauling him up to his feet.

She reared back and delivered a spin kick to his chest. He stumbled backwards, not prepared for the one-two punches she next delivered to his face. Blood seeped from his bottom lip and he wiped at it, saw it on his hand.

“First blood…’bout time,” he said, weaving on his feet. “Doesn’t mean a thing.”

“Just that now you’ve managed to piss me off,” she said and blocked a punch. Darting behind him she kicked his backside and sent him face-first into the dirt. “Not looking quite on your game anymore, Angel…that shoulder bothering you?” she asked, and kicked the shoulder in reference.

“Just catching my breath,” he muttered and rose quickly. As he turned to face her he was greeted with a slamming fist to his jaw that snapped his neck back.

“You really should have learned,” she said, advancing and punching him across the face again, “bothering my friends, even just talking about it,” another punch to the face, more blood, “that just gets me all cranky.”

Angel, dazed, looked blankly at her, weaved on his feet, struggling to keep himself upright. “Angel will never do it,” he told her.

“You’re wrong,” she said, and jumped straight up in the air, delivering a kick to the center of his chest. He flew off his feet and onto his back. Again, she straddled him, holding his arms down with her knees. “Angel!” she shouted, punching him across the face. “Angel! Do it! Now!” She punched him repeatedly.

“He’s going to kill me! He’ll kill my friends, your friends! Anyone we’ve ever cared about!”

Angel’s head lolled to the side, bloody from her hits. She stopped her assault. “Angel,” she said softly. “If he wins, he kills you.”

A low laugh came from the man beneath her. “It’s no use, Buff. He’s weak. He’s always been weak. It’s the demon inside that gives him his strength. He knows that. He can’t give it up. He couldn’t then, he can’t now.”

She stared at him for a moment. Slowly, she rose, releasing him. Walking backward to the middle of the circle she kept her eyes on him as he pushed himself up. Her chin came up. “Then kill me.”

He raised an eyebrow at her. “I’m sorry…what you said, it sounded like ‘kill me?’” he asked.

She nodded. “Kill me, then. You were right. I can’t do it a second time. I’d rather be dead.”

He looked at her nervously. “Well, this is a pleasant turn of events…gee…I don’t know…well, okay!” he cried and rushed her.

She closed her eyes, praying silently. A primeval wail reached her ears and her eyes flew open. Angel was on the ground, writhing. Buffy didn’t hesitate. She retrieved her stake and ran to him. Angel flipped over onto his back and looked up at her. “Do it!” he shouted, pain searing through him.

“Angel?” Buffy asked, looking for confirmation.

“Can’t hold him…please…now!” he screamed and closed his eyes.

She said a silent prayer and staked him through the heart.

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Chapter Sixteen: The Ten