Joyce Summers wondered what had just happened. 

She distinctly remembered leaving her gallery for a talk with her daughter’s boyfriend. She remembered leaving and driving out to the mansion Buffy had told her of not too long ago. She remembered wondering why she was doing this when truly all she ever wanted was Buffy’s happiness and she was obviously happy with Angel. She remembered wanting to speak with Angel privately and to get a sense of what Buffy saw in the…vampire. Not human. Not man. Beast. Demon. Devil. 

Where had those thoughts come from? 

What thoughts? What had she been thinking? She’d been thinking of Buffy and how she seemed so happy with Angel. Murderer. Killer. Drink her daughter’s blood. 

Shaking that off, Joyce walked back into her gallery. What in the world was happening to her? And what had she said to Angel? Death. Destruction. Leave. Leave? Trying desperately to latch onto that one thought, Joyce frowned as she walked into her office. What was happening here?
~~~~~~~~~~
“I love you,” Angel said as he rolled off Buffy, pulling her with him. 

He didn’t want to leave her alone, didn’t want to be separated from her even this much. He couldn’t bear it on normal days, the distance necessity placed on them. School. Home. Friends. But this, this was too much. He couldn’t leave her. 

“I love you, too,” Buffy murmured, spent from Angel’s vigorous loving. 

She sighed, content, and curled closer to him. Cool, still. Soft to her touch, warming with her heat. How could her mother think that she could live without her lover? How dare her mother think she could dictate her child’s life! That Buffy could live without Angel, that she could ever be the same. Hadn’t Joyce realized the change in her daughter when Angel left? When he taunted and haunted her as Angelus? When he was in Hell – because she had sent him there – for months? 

Maybe, Buffy admitted, but it didn’t matter. Joyce was in her world and Buffy was in hers and rarely did the two meet. 

“She was being controlled,” Angel said as if he could read her thoughts. Maybe he could, Buffy thought and smiled. Wouldn’t that be nice, to be so tied to her lover, to her love that her every thought was his. Well, maybe not every. That was a lot of thoughts. And Buffy wanted some privacy. Like in the bathroom. Yes, privacy there was of the good. 

“What?” She asked, bring herself back to the point of Angel’s statement. 

“You’re mother,” he clarified, arm tightening around her. “Strong magicks surrounded her when she was here. I don’t know why or from whom, but I do know that her visit here wasn’t entirely voluntary.” 

Sitting up and letting the sheet pool around her waist, Buffy stared in the clear brown eyes of her lover. He knew what he was talking about; since his return from Hell, Angel’s senses had heightened unbelievably. Or maybe that was what Primal did to one, it let the veneer of civilization fall away to reveal the inner beast. The one who could track and sense and hunt without worrying even what other demons thought.

Angel was unique before. The one vampire in all the world with a soul. Now he was even more so. He was a vampire with a soul, one with the slayer in his bed, a slayer he loved and worshiped. And he had no cares what others thought. Not his friends – Oh, God, did her Angel have any? Yes, yes he must. But who? Buffy vowed to find that out and soon. 

He didn’t care what vampires and demons thought; he didn’t care what humans thought. He was and that was enough. He cared only for Buffy – her feelings, thoughts, wants, needs – and that was all. 

“She loves you, Buffy,” he continued, a hand capturing hers for the contact he craved. “She only wants you happy. I think she wanted to come here to see…almost where I placed you in my life. If I loved you enough to put your needs above mine. And I do. Quite honestly,” he sighed, “If my soul wasn’t as it was, if it was still as precarious as you said it was, then I’m not sure I wouldn’t have listened to her.” 

“You would’ve left me?” The tears were back, the hurt. How could he even think that?

“No, I’m not sure I could. But if things were different, and I couldn’t touch you like this?” His hand drifted to her thigh, moving the sheet out of the way so he could touch her silky skin. “You said that when we made love the first time I lost my soul. I don’t remember that, and am not entirely sure what you meant by that – how could I lose something that’s such a part of me? – but if…” he stopped again, trying to articulate all he wanted to say. 

“If that could still happen, then it’d be a danger to everyone else.” But not Buffy, never Buffy. She and she alone would be safe…until Angel Angelus a voice whispered, Angelus decided to turn her. That thought gave the vampire pause. Was that the only way to keep Buffy with him? By his side forever? To turn her into what he was? But then…he didn’t think that was the way it truly worked. 

There was a memory of that…she wouldn’t be Buffy. She’d be a demon like you, that voice whispered. Like us. Would she still be warm? Or cool like him? Soulless – was that possible? What was a soul, after all? No, there had to be another way to keep her. He couldn’t stand the thought of watching her die. Of watching her grow old while, he stayed young. 

“I don’t know, Buffy. I don’t know the what might have beens or the what ifs. All I know is that your mother loves you and wants only what’s best for you. She doesn’t understand a lot of what your life is,” he conceded. “Maybe you should try and explain it to her.” 

“I have,” Buffy insisted then paused at Angel’s look. “Maybe not so much,” she admitted. “But that still doesn’t give her the right to tell you to stay away from me!” 

“I don’t believe she was.” Angel thought over the conversation and shrugged, restlessly. “Not intentionally. As I said, there were a lot of magicks surrounding her. Which makes me think,” his eyes narrowed, golden now. “If the person casting the spell sent her to talk with me, then he or she would’ve realized that I’d be able to tell.” 

Buffy didn’t say anything to that, remained quiet. Angel made a valid point. But then if whomever cast the spell wasn’t aware of the state of Angel’s soul, then maybe he – it had to be the mayor, who else could it be? – was banking on Angel not telling her. A thought for another time where she could hypothesize to her heart’s content. It wasn’t important, because Angel’s soul was fine – he still didn’t understand what she meant when she said he could lose it. 

“It has to be the mayor,” she said instead.

“Agreed,” Angel nodded. “But why? To get me out of your life? He has to know I’d never leave you while he was still a threat. And now that we have a concrete date on that…” he trailed off, leaving the rest unsaid. Now that they had a concrete date, he wasn’t going anywhere until Mayor Richard Wilkins III was dead – as a human or demon it didn’t matter. 

Curling back against him, the sheet settling over their bodies, Buffy let it go. They had time still. Not a lot, but some. Enough so that she could spend the rest of the afternoon with her lover. Tonight was soon enough to work on their preparations once more. Leaning over, Buffy touched her lips to his, wondering if the passion between them would ever cool, wondering if the way she felt about him would ever change, wondering what the future – their future – held. Together. 

“Always,” she whispered to no particular thing he said. “I’ll love you for always.”
~~~~~~~~~~
“Oz?” 

Oz turned from his seat in the library where he’d been – ostensibly – reading for his history test. Willow stood several feet away, looking sweet and nervous and the werewolf was reminded why he’d fallen in love with her in the first place. She smiled at him, that shy smile he’d come to adore and he knew that whatever she wanted, he’d most likely give to her. 

“Um,” she said when he smiled at her and closed his book. “I just wanted to talk about the whole. Well, the Xander thing and the Angel thing.” 

Oz knew that was what she wanted, but he still couldn’t help his body stiffening. “What about it?” 

“I understand why you did what you did with Angel and Buffy,” Willow admitted. She didn’t like it, wasn’t sure that was what she’d have done, and damn well knew that she wouldn’t have and couldn’t have kept it a secret, but she understood Oz’s point of view. 

“I wish,” she told him, “That you’d said something to me about it.” 

“And you would’ve gone straight to Xander,” Oz pointed out what Willow already knew. What they both knew as fact. 

Reluctantly, she nodded. “Then, yes. I probably would have. I would’ve told him because we were her best friends. We knew what she went through with Angel and then with him turning evil and yes, I would have. But now…” she trailed off not wanting to say anything about Xander. Not wanting to bring up the hurts of the past and not wanting to dwell on the way things were now with everyone. 

“I didn’t tell you because it wasn’t your business,” Oz said. “It wasn’t my business, either. But as long as they were careful and didn’t put the rest of us…the way things were now with everyone. 

“I didn’t tell you because it wasn’t your business,” Oz said. “It wasn’t my business, either. But as long as they were careful and didn’t put the rest of us…you, Willow, then what difference did it make?” 

She wanted to tell him that it made a lot of difference. She wanted to say that it made all the difference in the world. She wanted to rant and rave about how he should have trusted her with that, or at the very least let Giles know. But the past weeks had given Willow a new perspective on things. A new and not entirely nice perspective on things. 

“It’s not,” she finally admitted, taking another step closer. When Oz didn’t stop her, she took another and relaxed marginally. “It’s not my business, even if Buffy’s my friend.” Something else that was messed up beyond measure. “You’re right, Oz, but that doesn’t make the hurt any less.” 

“It shouldn’t. But then it shouldn’t have mattered. Buffy would have told you when she was ready. She didn’t for a reason.” 

Willow suspected the reason was the same as Oz’s reasons. And again, now, with hindsight and the perspective of how events had unfolded, she couldn’t blame either of them. It didn’t ease the hurt. But she didn’t blame them. 

“I’m sorry,” she said instead. “I’m sorry that you couldn’t trust me and that I betrayed that trust. I’m sorry that I haven’t been that understanding and that these last weeks have been awful between us. And I’m sorry that I didn’t say it before.” 

Oz smiled then, a real Oz smile that Willow recognized for what it was. Her smile. Buffy had once said that Angel had a special smile reserved solely for her. Now Willow knew what she meant.
~~~~~~~~~~
Faith wailed on the punching bag with all her slayer strength. 

Played. She’d been played but good. They mayor shrugged it off but she knew better. Knew that even now he was making plans to cover her slip. Her mistake. If there was one person left in this world she didn’t want to disappoint, it was Richard. He trusted her, look at all the responsibility he gave her. He wanted her as a part of his team. Look at how he included her in his plans.

Buffy hadn’t done that. 

She kept Angel a secret for months. Angel. The very name was enough to send a wave of anger through her. Played. She’d been played. He’d tricked her – and Richard – and had made a fool out of her. Pretending to want her. 

It felt like it, but now, from the clarity of hindsight, maybe not. He hadn’t taken her on the mansion floor as she’d expected. He hadn’t even made a move to do so. No, he’d kissed her, groped her, and insisted on meeting Richard before things went too far. Insisted that he wanted to thank the man for returning him to his soulless state. 

Bastard. Well, she’d think of some way to get back at him. 

Faith had been so busy the last weeks firming up Richard’s plans, that she hadn’t had a lot of time to think on her revenge. Well, on her revenge for her failed revenge. Hmm, what was good enough for him? For the both of them? Death, certainly, but a slow and painful one. Something that not only affected one, but the other as well. She’d have to see if Richard had any ideas on that.
~~~~~~~~~~
“It’s poison,” Angel said from the uncomfortably hard chair in the library.

He wasn’t sure why Buffy brought him here instead of the mansion, but here they were. Giles was examining the arrow, mumbling about mystical properties – well, yes, that made sense. What else could do this to a vampire? 

“What’s going on?” Willow asked as she walked through the doors, hand in hand with Oz. Giles’ phone call had been short, blunt, and cryptic and to say Willow was worried was an understatement. 

“Angel.” The werewolf said, his senses flaring. “What happened?” 

“Poison,” Giles said. “Angel was poisoned.” 

“Faith did it,” Buffy announced from her position on the table in front of Angel. She bathed the arrow wound in water, but they both knew it was ineffective. If Angel couldn’t shrug it off as he had so many things, then water certainly wasn’t going to help. “We were coming from that professor’s apartment, Giles. She was there, on the roof of the movie theater.” 

It had happened so suddenly, yet now when Buffy remembered it, all she could see was Angel falling. Falling to the ground, clutching the spot Right Above His Heart. So very close to killing him. But Faith hadn’t. And Buffy knew why. 

“Revenge,” she whispered to her lover. He nodded, staying quiet. He knew it, too; knew that Faith was unstable and that this was the perfect way to get back at both he and Buffy. 

“Take Angel home, Buffy,” Giles said sympathetically. “We’ll start researching this.” 

She did as he bade, making her lover comfortable in their bed, kissing him deeply before promising to return soon. She had to find out if anyone knew anything, had to find out if there was something she could do. there had to be a cure – there was a cure for damn near anything, wasn’t there? There had to be a way to save Angel, she refused to give up on him. 

“Anything,” she whispered, tears in her eyes, clogging her throat. “I’ll do anything for you.” 

“Kiss me,” he requested. Angel knew he was dieing, knew that unless they found the cure quickly, then there was nothing Buffy could do. If that was to be the case, then he wanted to go with the taste of his love on his lips, in his senses. 

She did so, letting her love, her passion, her need of him pour out through the kiss. She couldn’t let him die, couldn’t, not after all they’d been through the past months. Finding their way back to each other after Hell, secrets, lies, the curse. 

“I love you,” she whispered, her hand caressing his face. Standing, she made sure that the cover covered him up to the hole in his chest. He shivered and Buffy wondered if it was because of her touch or he was actually cold. Another soft kiss and she left, promising, “I’ll be back soon.” 

And she was. Sooner than she’d have liked. They had a cure. The only cure. She needed to change, needed to focus, needed…she needed to break down and cry. She needed Angel to hold her while she cried her pain and frustration and fear. But that wasn’t going to happen.

Xander had told her where Faith was staying. He and Willow had searched the internet for places the mayor had rented or owned and came up with several possibilities; he and Cordelia had checked them all out, finding Faith in a loft apartment downtown. She didn’t know why Xander was being so nice to her, but didn’t care. Grateful that he was, that he was willing to set aside his hatred of Angel and his anger at her own secrets, Buffy had hugged him – and yes, Cordelia as well. 

Now she was off to find her sister. To kill her and feed her to her lover. As she waited for Willow and Oz to get out of the car, for Cordelia to drive away after dropping them off at the mansion, Buffy knew. She watched her friends set up in the great hall, remembered all the wonderful memories she and Angel created there, and knew. 

Faith wasn’t going to live past tonight. 

Not because she’d betrayed Buffy – the slayer could forgive her sister that. Not because she turned to Richard Wilkins III – Buffy knew it was because Faith needed someone to trust in her and knew that she herself had failed miserably in that. Not even for trying to turn Angel into Angelus – even without a soul, Angel would never have gone with Faith. No, he was Buffy’s always and forever in any incarnation. 

Faith knew how Buffy felt about Angel. They’d spent hours walking and talking about their pasts. In fact, other than Angel, Faith knew more about Buffy than anyone in the world. Willow, her mom, anyone. So Faith knew how Buffy felt about Angel. And she’d tried to kill him anyway. 

She wasn’t going to succeed. 

“You have everything?” Buffy asked Willow as Oz piled the box ok books he carried onto the table. 

“Yeah,” Willow nodded. “We’ll watch him, don’t worry. You go.” 

Oz walked up to her, looked her quietly in the eyes and said low enough for only Buffy to hear. “Kick her ass, Buffy. Don’t hold back.” 

A ghost of a smile crossed Buffy’s face and she nodded. Her arms were still tightly crossed over her middle, afraid that she’d crack if she let go, else she’d have hugged Oz. “Take care of him for me.” 

He nodded and turned back to Willow. They’d just consummated their relationship that day, making love to each other slowly and softly. The wolf within him raged to be set free, to claim Willow as his own, but the man held back. He wouldn’t do that to her. Never. 

Buffy walked into Angel’s room and Oz moved to Willow. “We better get started,” he said with a nod towards the pile of books they had to look through. “Graduation day is coming up fast – like two days fast – and we still don’t know how to stop him.” 

“Yeah,” she murmured, eyes glued to the doorway where Buffy had disappeared into. She watched as several minutes passed and Buffy exited, clothes changed, face resolved. She looked like a woman with a mission and Willow knew that was exactly what she was. The redhead couldn’t help but wonder what Buffy had told Angel and if the vampire cared either way what happened to Faith now. 

“Good luck, Buffy,” she whispered to the slayer’s retreating back.
~~~~~~~~~~
Buffy didn’t need luck. She knew what she was going to do, what she was after, what needed to be done. She didn’t knock, but then she didn’t need to. 

“Thought I’d stop by.” Simple statement meant to catch attention. And it did. But then it was no surprise, either.

“Is he dead yet?” Faith asked as she rolled off the bed to stand before her sister.

“Sorry, Faith,” Buffy said, “But he’s not gonna die. It was a good try, though,” she nodded here, unfolding her arms so they hung loosely by her sire. “Your plan?”

“Of course.” Vengeance was sweet and beautiful. Look at the pain in B’s eyes. Beautiful. “Yep. The Mayor got me the poison. Said it was wicked painful.” Her eyes glowed here, crazed and yearning. Sister. Enemy.

“Oh, but there’s a cure.”

“Damn,” Faith shrugged and rolled off the bed in one graceful move. Good. Bad. Save him. Kill him. “What is it?” She asked instead.

Buffy smiled here, wicked, knowing. “Your blood, dear sister. As justice goes,” a step further into the room, “It’s not un-poetic, don’t you think?”

Now she understood; another betrayal. Hers. Buffy’s. A step forward. “Come to get me, is that it? You gonna feed me to Angel? You know you’re not going to take me alive.” Never that.

“So not a problem,” Buffy said with another step into Faith’s room. “I can live with that. And so can he.”

Kill her. Save me. “Well, look at you. All dressed up in big sister’s clothes and ready to take on the role of a lifetime. Sure you’re ready for that, B?”

“You told me,” Buffy said in that same flat voice that showed none of her turmoil, none of her emotions. She hated this but there was no way that Angel was going to die because of Faith. “That I was just like you. That I was holding it in. Maybe you were right. But then you shouldn’t have gone after Angel, Faith.”

Faith stopped in front of her, close, closer than they’d been in a long time. Physically. But then the chasm between them could never be crossed. “He was in my way, what can I say? And let me tell you, B,” Faith leaned in, eyes locked with Buffy’s. “Your pain is beautiful. His may be physical, but yours screams to me.”

And it was, it was calling to her. Soothe me. Feed me. The conflicting emotions were hard to take but Faith ignored the ones calling to her sister. She couldn’t afford it, couldn’t afford to listen to that voice that wanted her to give it all up, lay her burden at Buffy’s feet and let her sister ease the pain and suffering she felt deep within her.

That wasn’t going to happen and Faith knew that. The voice knew that, too, but tried one last time. One last time to remind, to tell, to show. Faith accepted that and then let it go. The voice drifted into nothingness, accepting its fate. Death was heavy in the air this night and all knew it.

“So,” Faith said in that conspiring voice. “You ready to cut loose?”

“Oh, yeah,” Buffy nodded. “Try me.”

“Okay then. Give us a kiss.”

Without blinking, without hesitating, Buffy punched Faith in the jaw. Her sister retaliated and the fight was on. Back and forth they went, across the apartment, destroying Faith’s things, things Richard had given her. Things she cared for only because of that.

 Faith shot Buffy a cocky grin. “Not getting tired are you? I’m just starting to feel it. The rush, B, is great. You think you’re ready for that?”

Buffy’s answer was another fist in the face. Faith’s grin never wavered but Buffy could see the answer in her sister’s eyes. Distracted by that, she didn’t realize Faith had maneuvered them to her large plate-glass window overlooking the city. The room terrace broke their fall and for a long moment, the two slayers stayed there, arms still locked around each other’s body.  

 The click of handcuffs caught Faith’s attention and she looked down. Buffy had handcuffed Faith’s right wrist to her own. Fuck. Not letting that get her down, Faith punched her sister again.

“What’s the matter?” Buffy asked, mocking, laughing. Still confident in her outcome, in Angel’s life. “All that killing, Faith, all those people and now you’re afraid to die?”

Silent, Faith spun so she could maneuver around Buffy, trying to get the handcuffs off. What could she say to that? Nothing. Was she afraid of her own death? Silence, that voice would finally be silent. No guilt, no mayor, no Buffy. No sister. Snapping the handcuff chain – really, what kind of cuffs had her sister gotten? The cheap plastic kind?

 The chain broke, as they both knew it would and Faith rolled away, grabbing an old length of pipe that was one of many lying around on the rooftop. Buffy stared at the pipe, the smile never leaving her face. Slowly, as if she was relishing this act, Buffy pulled out her souvenir. Faith’s gift from Richard. Her knife.

 “That’s mine,” Faith snarled. “You stole that from me. Just as you did everything else.”

 “I stole nothing, sister.” Buffy shot back. “But then you never got that, did you. Well now,” Buffy said as she rolled her wrist so the light glinted off the blade, “You’re about to get it back.”

The fight was back on with that, Buffy trying to stab Faith, Faith trying to smash Buffy’s head in with the pipe. Their fight again moved across the area, moving from one end of the terrace to another, from the broken window to the edge of the rooftop. Faith had the upper hand, holding Buffy over the edge of the wall separating roof from ground.

 “Man,” Faith said with one of her smiles, crazy anger, childlike hope – that was quickly fading and they both knew it. “I’m going to miss this, B. Ya know?”

 “I know, Faith,” Buffy said softly and broke Faith’s grip, plunging the knife into Faith’s gut. For one long unbelievable moment, they both looked down at the wound, bleeding quickly now around the knife Mayor Richard Wilkins III had given Faith to kill her sister. What had she done? What had both of them done?

“You did it,” Faith murmured, surprised, and slightly…pleased. “You did it, sister. You…” what? Saved me? Killed me? Condemned me to hell? Freed me for heaven?

 Faith started to tumble off the roof, whether by design or accident, Buffy didn’t know, but she wasn’t letting Faith get away. Not after all this, not after killing her sister, not after…God, Faith. But then Angel’s life always came before her own.

“You killed me, B, sister…” she was losing conscious fast, falling…was she falling? No, Buffy had her. Buffy had her…and Faith smiled.

 “You shouldn’t have done it, Faith,” Buffy said with tears in her eyes. “Anyone but Angel. I can’t live without him, I can’t, Faith, and you knew that. Why?”

 “For you, B.” Faith said, eyes closing as Buffy carried her out of the room and to the elevator, waiting interminable minutes for it to arrive on their floor. “It was always for you.”

Buffy felt a tear trickle down her face, knew it was for the bond that was severed between sisters. Faith was fading fast and Buffy still had to get Faith to Angel…uh. Fuck. She was so focused on getting to Faith, of bringing her back for Angel that she hadn’t thought on how she was getting back to the mansion.

Such poor planning on her part.

Walking out of the door with Faith in her arms, her hopes fading fast, she almost didn’t hear the voice that called her name. “Buffy,” the soft British voice said, causing her head to snap up, ready for whatever was next in the list of ‘attack Buffy’ things tonight.

“Wesley,” she said with a nod. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to give you a lift,” he smiled wryly. “I was with Mr. Giles in the library and he told me of your…plan. For the record,” he stated as he helped Buffy place a dieing Faith into the rented car – and blood never came out of upholstery. “I dislike this plan, it’s rash, dangerous, and you murdered your sister slayer.” 

“I did it to save my lover’s life, Wes,” Buffy said in a tight voice, ready to knock the watcher out of the car if he didn’t drive as fast as possible back to Angel or try to stop her in any way at all. “He’s the only thing keeping me from becoming Faith. Without him, you don’t want to know what I’ll do.” 

“Yes, hmm,” Wes said as he sped through the deserted town. “For the record, I still don’t like it and I heartedly disprove of it.” 

“And off the record?” Buffy asked, wondering where this new Wes came from. 

“When I called the council to let them know of your request for Angel,” he said quickly as the road to the mansion came into view, “They weren’t happy. They didn’t like the fact that Faith had turned, that Angel was alive and that you were keeping him a secret, that there was a vampire, soulled or not, working with the slayer. And they refused to help.” All of which Buffy knew but Wesley told her anyway. “And they fired me for not turning either Faith or you over to their…assassins when I had the chance.” 

“They fired you?” Buffy asked, shocked. She hadn’t been expecting that. “Why haven’t you left then?” He didn’t answer her and she got the feeling that he hadn’t any other place to go. She kind of understood that and for the first time since meeting him, empathized with her watcher. 

“You never answered my question,” she said as Wes pulled as close to the door as he could. So much for the flowers and bushes there, but then they were an even smaller price to pay for Angel’s life. 

“I believe this is your stop,” he said in lieu of an answer. Or maybe that was his answer as he had come to pick her up and he did drop her off at the mansion. 

“So it is,” Buffy said as she hauled Faith out of the car. Carrying her inside, she heard Wes leave the house and wondered if he’d stick around for the final battle the day after tomorrow. Maybe there was hope for him yet.

Oz rushed to help her with Faith the moment she opened the door. Obviously, his senses were as strong as ever. Bringing Faith into the living room, Buffy held her sister closely, almost tenderly. Her eyes betrayed her feelings towards the other slayer – bitter hatred, disappointment, sorrow, bone-deep, soul-deep sorrow. 

“You have to leave,” she insisted. “You have no idea how much I appreciate what you’ve done for me and for Angel, but now you need to leave.” 

Willow opened her mouth to protest but then nodded. She didn’t think she was entirely comfortable with what was going to happen next, anyway. They quickly gathered their books and left, Willow giving Buffy a brief hug before they did so.

Faith was almost gone. In the ten minutes, maybe, that it took Buffy to get her sister from the rooftop to here, Faith was almost gone. Buffy had no idea if Angel could still drink someone after she was dead, but didn’t want to take the chance. The few steps to the bedroom seemed interminable and Buffy was grateful that they’d put her lover in a lower room rather than theirs upstairs. 

“Angel,” she said softly, gently laying Faith on the floor. “Baby, you have to wake up.” 

“Buffy?” His voice was soft, weak. Buffy didn’t understand how he could drink from her as they made love and still have trouble fighting off this poison. He had to have like a gallon of her blood – more – and yet this poison, whose only cure was slayer’s blood, dropped him with a thud. Maybe he needed a concentrated dose? Like all at once? Well, he was about to get it. 

“I love you,” he said, scenting the air as his vampire features fell into place. There was something…growling, he shifted his gaze from Buffy to Faith. Why hadn’t he scented this before? Because he’d been so focused – as always – on Buffy that everything else, even the sweet, hot scent of slayer blood, was extraneous. 

“Faith?” He asked, confused. 

“Cure,” Buffy corrected him. “Slayer’s blood is the cure. You need to drink her before she dies, Angel.” 

“What?” He asked as Buffy helped him sit up, bringing him to the floor where Faith lay. Buffy wasn’t sure why she did that, why she didn’t just put her sister into bed with Angel. Yes she did. It was too intimate that way, her lover in bed with the betrayer sister who tried to get him for herself, and Buffy wasn’t ever letting Angel share a bed with anyone other than her ever again. 

“How?” He wondered as Buffy curled around his back, arms tight. She rested her head on his naked back, pressed a kiss to his tattoo, arms holding him to her. “Buffy…?” 

“Drink, Angel,” she whispered. Her own darkness was strong now, eclipsing the light within her soul. She’s killed Faith for Angel. She killed her sister for her lover. She committed the one thing she vowed never to do, harm another human, for a vampire. But then, no one harmed Angel and lived. No one. “She’s the cure, it’s the only way, baby.” 

Angel needed no further urging. Sinking his teeth into Faith’s neck, her heart slowing faster than it previously had, Angel did just that. He drank and with every mouthful Buffy felt his strength return, his body heal, and his hunger for more.

For her. 

He drank for her, he drank because no matter what Faith meant to Buffy, he meant more and frankly, he didn’t care about Faith. Not in the sense that he worried or wondered what she meant to him – which was nothing – without Buffy. So his fangs slipped into her neck, pulling the blood that her heart slowly – slowing – pumped through her system in an aborted attempt to sustain. Her life. His life. Angel let the blood flow through him, let the healing qualities, the enhancing properties, work their magick.

She wasn’t going to say no to him, Buffy realized as she felt Faith’s heart stop and her body sigh its last breath. Eerily enough, that last breath sounded like Buffy. But she wasn’t going to think on that. Not now. Maybe later, when all this was finished and when she could mourn – yes, mourn – the death of her sister. And the role she herself had played in that. 

Buffy wanted him, needed him, and before they had to face everything…everyone, with what she had done, with the murder of her sister I’m so sorry Faith, you shouldn’t have done it, with everything. That she would do everything for Angel. Anything. 

He drained Faith, Sister Slayer, roaring as he finished, healthy, whole, and rolled to face his lover. Faith’s body had lost a lot of blood from the stab wound and it now covered the floor. Angel didn’t care. Mouth still slightly bloody from feeding, he crushed his lips to Buffy’s, growling at her nearness. 

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