“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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