Part One

(10 days after "The Risen")

"Is he still in there?" Buffy whispered as she crouched down.

"Yep." Xander answered quietly.

"And you've never seen him before?"

Xander shook his head and peered around the bushes toward Giles's apartment. "Nope... never. He's a tall, grundgy lookin' guy and he used a key to go in. Like I said, I was on my way home from work and thought I would swing past here and check on things and I saw him just go in like he owned the place."

"That's weird."

"Sure is. Hey, maybe he's a friend of Giles? He was carrying two six-packs."

"Oh yeah.. Giles has a bunch of beer-drinking buddies." Buffy snotted. "They just always stop over here every Friday night to play poker, right after they're done bowling."

Xander grimaced at the sarcasm. "So how we going to do this?"

Buffy stood and smiled. "We're just going to bust in and get the answers."

With that she took off in a run straight for Rupert's apartment door, her momentum barely slowing as she kicked it open and charged in.

The man at the desk merely took another swig of beer and with a wave of the bottle flatly noted. "And I'd wager you're Buffy." Two seconds later Xander came thorough the remains of the door. "And I'd also wager that you be one of her vampire fighting friends. Eemey, meeny, mineey, moe. Which one though, I do not know."

Buffy was not amused. She took a quick glance at the mirror, noted that this jerk had a reflection then came toward him demanding. "Who are you and what are you doing in Giles' apartment?!"

"I told the landlord a bald-faced lie that I was his cousin and would be staying here until he returned." The man lit a cigarette and leaned back in the chair. "I'm Tom Rees, your very own unofficial Watcher. Want a beer? Or should I say do you want some of that weasel water that's marketed as beer around here."

Buffy leaned over into his face. "Helll-loooo! When are you guys going to catch a clue that I don't work for you anymore?" She flung her hands up in the air and turned back toward Harris. "It's another Watcher!"

"Yeah, and I don't think this one was in the top ten in his class."

Rees threw back his head and laughed. "If the truth be known, lad - I wasn't in any ten. They tossed me out on my arse about three months before the end of training."

Xander rubbed his hands together then pointed at Tom. "Let me guess, conduct unbecoming of a Watcher?"

"How did you know?" Rees questioned in false affront.

"Lucky guess." Xander answered through a twisted grin. "Now let me try again, you were messing with magic?"

"Damn! You must have read my sodding file."

"So you're not really a Watcher?" Buffy snotted.

"Remember, I said 'unofficial'." Tom took another puff off his smoke and shook his head. "I believe they sent me here because they didn't want another good one to go belly up. Face it Pet, you're 'ell on Watchers."

"Get out!" Buffy growled. "Get the hell out of here and tell those pricks on the Council that if I ever even..."

"I'm not going anywhere Pet, so just retract your claws and.."

"QUIT CALLING ME THAT!"

"Whoa! Whoa! Time Out!" Xander shouted above both of them as he slid between Tom and Buffy. "How about you tell us what's going on 'cause this 'unofficial' thing has me a little confused."

"I don't give a shit what his story is!" Buffy shouted.

"You better, because your life depends on it."

Both Buffy and Xander turned toward him.

"Now that I got your attention, sit down and I'll tell you the tale." Rees stubbed out the butt of his smoke and reached down beside his chair coming up with two bottles of beer. He sat them down in front of Xander and Buffy. "You'll be needing these."

"Great." Xander muttered under his breath as he pushed a chair up to the desk. He paused to exchange a look with Buffy as she dragged her own seat over beside his. As they both plopped down Rees began:

"Once upon a time there was a Watcher named Wesley Wyndam-Pryce. I knew him, we were in the same group but I never chummed around with him because he was a Lombard."

"A what?" Buffy interrupted.

"Lots of money but a right dickhead." Rees translated. "Anyway this Watcher gets the plum assignment of supervising the one and only Slayer. He doesn't last long before he comes running back to England with his tail between his legs. He is then promptly and without any remorse fired from the position that he had worked all his life for."

"Then he vanishes and we don't hear another word about him until five months ago. That is when another disgraced Watcher by the name of Rupert Giles contacts us with the news that Wesley has been turned. The report was duly noted in the minutes and then filed away in a dusty shoebox."

Tom drained his beer then changed his tone to one of dead seriousness. "Three weeks ago yesterday, Wesley and his Mistress slaughtered his family as they gathered for a birthday dinner. Father, Mother, oldest Sister and her husband and two children along with one future brother-in-law. The second sister managed to escape and flag down a passing lorry." He jaw tightened and spit out the remaining words. "They were never warned! They had not the first goddamned clue that he had been turned!"

"And they invited him in." Buffy whispered.

Xander decided that it was time to open his beer. "Why didn't they tell them?"

"The same reason that they did not inform any of you about his rampage. That is - once someone leaves the fold they are considered persona non grata as are all others in their circle. As far as the Council is concerned they got only what was coming to them."

Buffy inhaled sharply through her clenched teeth. "That's sick."

Rees nodded. "I agree."

"Wait a minute." Xander pointed at Tom and raised an eyebrow. "You said you are in the 'kicked out, don't let the door hit 'ya in the ass' club. So if this is the case why did they send you?"

Tom looked away for a moment then lit another cigarette. "The Council is in the middle of a revolt at the moment. It's been simmering under the surface for years but it came to a head last week when Quentin Travers had a stroke."

"Dead guy?" Buffy asked in a cold tone.

"Not yet." Rees answered just as coldly while making a rotating motion with a down pointing finger. "But last I heard the old sod is circling the drain."

"So there is a bright spot in all this." Buffy sneered.

"You could say that." Tom agreed. "But here's where it gets tricky. I don't know if you realize this Pet, but you have been quite the pain in the arse."

"She knows it." Xander answered.

Tom's shoulders jiggled as he snorted. "Hurrump! I have to tell you, when you quit about one third of the Council wanted to send a wet team to put a bullet in you."

Buffy rolled her eyes. "There's a surprise."

"Another third wanted to just leave you here to die because, since you no longer had a competent Watcher, sooner or later you would make a mistake." Tom flicked an ash into the makeshift ashtray and held up three fingers. "Then about a third thought that you should be kidnapped and dragged back to the Council estate for deprogramming and reprogramming. They even hired this man who used to work in South Africa. Nasty bugger, pro at sleep depravation."

Buffy blinked. "No thanks."

"Then about a third wanted..."

Xander held up four fingers. "Uh... that's four thirds."

"Well, there was some overlap." Tom said with a shrug. "So the final third came to the conclusion that you are doing one 'ell of a job and that you are on the right track. That is, it's about bleedin' time that we caught up with the times. You were the breath of fresh air that blew the dust out of the Council chambers." He leaned over the desk. "Those are the ones who sent me. They couldn't very well enlist a certified Watcher for this because they couldn't trust them." His expression softened a bit. "I know you don't trust the Council, but I'm telling you gospel here - you have to trust me. With any luck, the forward looking members of the Council will win this coup d' état and you will be vindicated."

Buffy shifted in her seat. "And if the good guys don't win?"

Rees shrugged. "Well that wasn't in the handbill. But I promise, I'm here until either you or I die." His mood then darkened considerably. "Which brings us back full circle to Wyndam-Pryce because both my handlers and I believe that he is behind the disappearance and death of both Mr. Giles and Miss Ros..."

"THEY'RE NOT DEAD!" Buffy shouted.

Tom grimaced and shook his head at her outburst. "Why do you believe this?" He asked softly.

"Because they can't be."

"Did Mr. Giles tell you about the vampire that turned Wesley?"

Buffy's brow furrowed at this unexpected question. "Yeah, he said she was some artist vamp who had been around for awhile. So what?"

"'Around for awhile' is a bit of an understatement. We think that she has been around for 2,000 to 2,500 years." Tom said as he stood and went over to Rupert's bookcase. He ran his fingers over the titles, pulled one free and began to leaf through it. "That is if Mr. Giles was correct in his identification, and I believe he was, then our friend Wesley was turned by a Guide who now calls herself Rita."

"So?" Buffy grumped. "I'm telling you vamps did not take them. I know the drill, whenever a vamp or something else does a nasty they have to come around an rub my face in it. That's why I know they are not dead."

"That's standard, for a run of the mill vampire." Tom agreed. "It's one of the weapons we have to fight them, that tendency to come back around and brag." He reseated himself and pushed the book across the desk to Buffy. "But this is not a 'standard' vampire and neither is her student."

Both Xander and Buffy leaned forward and stared at the open page.

"Yeah, Giles showed this to us. He said that there are only three of these Guide things still around." Xander crinkled up his forehead and thought for a second. "And it had him really nervous that Wes was hanging with her."

"Right, he said that between the two of them they would know all the tricks." Buffy added.

Rees rubbed his face and sighed. "Listen to me, and please hear me out. Your friends are dead." He waved a hand at Buffy as she opened her mouth. "I said 'hear me out'!" After a few seconds of 'stare-down' Buffy gave her head a sharp nod and Tom continued.

"Firstly, I have read both men's additions to the Watcher Diaries and I know... as well as you do, the bond that you had with Mr. Giles. There is no way in 'ell that he would have deserted you of his own free will and the same cold, hard fact also applies to your friend Miss Rosenberg."

Buffy bowed her head at what she knew was the truth.

"Secondly, this Guide is not a creature to be taken lightly. I can guarantee you that she is more evil and powerful than any vampire you have ever faced. A vampire becomes a Guide only after a millennium of existence and then only if they are strong enough to control their demon. Most old, old vampires become gnarled and ugly as the sin within them. But not Guides, no Pet... they stay fresh, they keep with the times, they never stop learning and yes, they know every trick in the book because they wrote the book."

"Which leads me to number three. If you had found the torn corpses of your friend and your mentor on the town green you would have been devastated, but you would have someday been able to move on. In the same way if they would have appeared to you as vampires, you could have dealt with this horrific turn of events and eventually would have come to grips with it. But this way is the most ghastly, because you don't know what has happened. Are they imprisoned? Are they being tortured? Are their bodies rotting away in an unmarked grave?"

"I think we got the idea!" Xander interrupted.

"Well then, I'll wrap it up and tie the ribbon." Tom shot back. "Wesley did this to get to you Buffy. Your unshakable support system is what got him fired and I can't see that it is a coincidence that these two vanished on the one year anniversary of that event. He killed them both then stepped away to let you suffer with never knowing what really happened."

Xander let out a long exhale and reached over to take Buffy's hand. She tightened her hand around his and fought back tears. The last ten days had been living hell on her and the others. Angel had come up for a week to help look as had Cordelia. Xander and Anya had searched, Tara had cast spells, even Oz returned to try to quite literally sniff out their whereabouts. Riley had been her rock, patrolling with her as they searched farther and farther afield each day and night.

But they had found not a clue.

She knew the others had whispered among themselves that Willow and Giles were dead but none dared voice this in front of her... until now.

"Buffy?" Xander's whisper brought her back from her thoughts.

"Yeah... I'm okay." She lied, putting her hands up to rub the tears back into her eyes. "So tell me Rees, do you think he turned them?"

"Maybe, but I doubt it. Most likely he took them somewhere and cut them up. I saw the pictures from his kills in London... he's into slaughter."

Buffy's face went to stone. "When I find him, I'll show you 'slaughter'."

******

(Seven months after "The Risen")

He enjoyed being a predator. For all intents and purposes you could surmise that he was born that way. His teen years were ones of rage as he did what he damn well pleased. Then a watershed event in his early adulthood came so close to casting him into the hell of prison that he realized he must change his tactics.

But the desire to make 'them' pay never left and now, here in a faceless city, away from the small town of his former life, he could act out his bloodlust.

He slipped back into the shadows and watched the drunk stagger toward the bus stop. This one was dressed a little nicer than the usual denizens of this neighborhood. Expensive jeans and what looked like a designer shirt. A lost tourist? Maybe a businessman from hell and gone Kansas? Who knows, who cares... he should have stayed six blocks away in the nightclub district because now he's dead where he stands.

Guess he should have worn something cheap because that eighty dollar shirt was about to become trash.

He let out a long hiss as the thrill of the hunt coursed through him. This reminded him of a kill from ten weeks before. That one had begged... offered up his wallet pictures... a photo series of his smiling brats as proof that he must live.

An uncontrollable smirk arose to his lips at the memory of that one's face as he heard his death sentence in the sarcastic response to his pleas: "So your dick works. Congratulations."

Now what's this? Damn it... why do whores only show up when you don't want them to? He focused in on the scene a half block up. She was circling the drunk, pawing at his crotch...

...Wonderful.

Well maybe it is 'wonderful'. He could take them both. Not exactly what he had planned, but it had been awhile since he had a double header. There they go, back into that alley for a quick blow job - perfect.

Silently he moved in for the kill, pausing at the end of the alley to get his bearings before slipping forward. He heard her murmur something from the far side of a dumpster which was his cue to make the move, for it told him that they were 'occupied'.

His hands went to a pouch sewn inside his jacket and he pulled out a latex Halloween mask in the form of a red devil. He tugged it over his own features and then reached into his pocket for his gun.

Mentally he counted down - three... two... one... and he came around the dumpster with what he perceived as a demon howl.

"Oh baby... don't stop... ooooooo honey you are gooooood." Willow moaned as she sat alone on a stack of pallets filing her blood red nails. She looked up at him and rolled her eyes. "Was that suppose to be scary?"

"Well, I certainly am terrified." Rupert deadpanned as he came out of the shadows to the left of the gunman.

"Get over there with the hooker and shutup, asshole!"

Giles ignored him but raised one finger in the air and addressed Willow. "I'll be damned! This must be that... ummmm.. oh what do the tabloids call him? Oh yes! The Satan Serial Slayer."

"Yeah. He shoots them then carves a fake magic sign on their chest... how boring." Willow answered as she slid off the pallets. "So lover, you think he'll be a screamer, a runner, or just stand there and piss himself?

"I think he will be a 'runner'." Rupert dryly offered as he approached.

He couldn't decide if these two were high or just brain dead. The possibility that they were undercover flickered in his head. No... if they had been cops they would have I.D.'ed themselves as soon as he had made his move. This was pissing him off. They were suppose to beg and cry and fall to their knees before they died. He leveled off his gun toward Willow. "Shut the fuck up ho and get back before I..."

Willow licked her lips and finished the sentence. "...kill me? Too late. Been there, done that."

"You fuckers have some kind of death wis.... DAMN!" He spun halfway around as Giles unexpectedly slapped the gun from his hand with a bone breaking strength. Before he could straighten up Rupert took him by the scruff of the neck and tossed him face first into the corner made by the dumpster and the alley wall.

His mind screamed out it's rage, ordering him to kill as he regained his footing. He fumbled in his pants pocket for his switchblade and whirled around to follow the command but there, not six feet away, stood this couple locked in a deep kiss. A trickle of fear went up his spine as they parted and turned toward him for he realized by their stance and the hungry look in their eyes that these two were the true predators.

"I love this part." Willow chirped with a twisted smile.

His blade clattered on the ground and fueled by a sudden adrenaline surge, he tried to scramble up and over the dumpster. Accompanied by a dark laugh Giles yanked him back down and with a crushing force locked his arms behind his back and offered him to Willow.

"Here you go Luv." He said wickedly. "Bon appétit."

Willow reached over and roughly yanked to mask off. With a laugh she tossed it over her shoulder. "Let me show you my 'gurrrrr' face, it's scarier than yours." She gave her head a small shake and morphed.

"I suppose I should also dress for dinner." Rupert dryly noted as he put on his game face. He brought his visage around into the man's line of sight and bared his fangs.

They both lunged for his neck cutting off the scream before it left the throat. He quickly drained, dead before his brain knew it, still quivering with involuntary reflex long after his soul had landed in hell.

"He wasn't very sweet." Willow pouted as she finally stepped away.

Giles withdrew his razored incisors and smacked his lips, savoring the taste. "True, but those who we draw in with this ploy are never innocent." He pushed the corpse to the side, letting it fall into the pallets. "I will say we got quite the prize this time. Perhaps the fine citizens of Los Angeles will give us some sort of certificate of appreciation for taking this one off of the mean streets."

"I'd rather have them bring us a virgin every night." Willow purred as she came up to Giles, rubbing her hands up his chest and draping them over his shoulders. "We could, you know.. make it not a virgin anymore then kill it."

"I like your fantasies." Rupert growled as his own hands swept down her back to cup her buttocks and bring her frame hard up against his. "Tell me more."

"What'cha want me to tell you?" She teased, grinding her body back and forth across him. "Or maybe we can go back to our lair and I'll 'show' you instead of 'telling' you."

"That sounds like a splendid idea." Giles agreed as he lifted her head up for another searching kiss. Both murmured out their rising lust as Willow tightened her arms around his shoulders and pulled herself up onto him.

Breaking free of the kiss, she wrapped her legs around his waist and pushed herself even higher bringing her breasts into his face. Her short skirt rode up to her hips and Rupert's hands locked together under her bare rump as he leaned back to brace himself against the dumpster.

Giles lowered his face into the cleavage. "Mmmmm....Vixen."

Willow rubbed her cheek through his hair. "We could do it here."

"Tease..."

"Complaining or asking?"

He bent over and released his hold around her bottom as a sign that she should let go. Giles turned her around and slid his hands under her arms and fondled the underside of her breasts. "Does this feel like I have a 'complaint'?" He asked as he ground the bulge of his erection into her back.

"Then you must be 'asking'." Willow purred. She wiggled out of his grasp and scanned the alleyway for a brief moment. "You're gonna have to move." She told the corpse while pushing it off the pallet stack.

As she reached around to unzip her skirt Giles stopped her motion. "Leave it on."

Willow's expression went to a dark pout. "I though that we..."

Giles cut her off with a biting kiss that came in tandem with his picking her up and slamming her down onto the pallets. He pushed her back flat and stood licking his lips as his hands went to his fly.

With a wicked laugh Willow braced her spike heels on the edge of the skid and let her legs drift apart and then back together offering and then denying him a glimpse of herself.

Giles pushed his jeans off his hips releasing his cock. He took the half step forward that separated them, slid his arms under the crook of her knees, pulled her upward to his level and rammed into her.

The pleasure of that first thrust caused both to groan as they drew in and gasped out unneeded breath. Giles moved both of her legs to one shoulder, turning her ever so slightly and paused to rub his free hand down her leg from ankle to hip, stopping to play with the elastic on her thigh high hose.

"Now who's teasing?" Willow hissed, gyrating her hips to drive him deeper into her.

"I am." Giles hissed as he started to slowly pump. But both knew this was an idle boast as their desire for gratification squared with each passing second. The pace quickened and Willow began to moan, her hands pulling her top up to reveal her breasts spilling out of the black lace bra.

Giles morphed and hissed with raw emotion as Willow began to stroke and tweak her own nipples whose outlines were visible through the thin material. She abandoned her breasts and walked the fingers of one hand down her body and began to torment her clitoris while bringing the fingers of her other hand to her lips. Giles groaned as he watched her suck and lick each finger in turn mimicking the motions of oral sex.

He felt her approaching release as she began to throb and tighten around his shaft. She was on the edge, her guttural cries echoed in his ears and he met each thrust oh her hips with a countering stroke driving her pleasure to the point of no return.

Willow's hard come sent his senses reeling. He tried to keep the cadence going to extend his pleasure but the full sensory overload was overwhelming: The taste of blood still in his mouth, the sight and the feel of her writhing before him, and the scent and sound of sex which permeated the air. He screamed out his own orgasm as he flooded her with his stream of cold semen.

As they slowly came down from the plateau Willow pulled her legs free of his grasp and sat up. "You know what?" She cooed, watching as he pulled his jeans back up.

"What, Luv?"

"I could kick myself for not jumping on you years ago." She gave her hair a toss. "But we all thought that, you know... you were so full of that Watcher thing that you would never do it."

"Are you saying that my ability to have a good fuck was discussed?"

"Yeah.. kinda." Willow said with a shrug. "Buffy and I talked about it when you were seeing Jenny."

Rupert lit a cigarette and frowned. "And the two of you decided that I would be a worthless screw?"

"Who knows what she was thinking." Willow slid off the pallets, took the smoke from his hand and had a drag. "But it got me thinking about how sexy you were." She handed his cig back to him and smiled innocently. "But I had that thing going with Oz and I was a good girl back then."

"I see." Giles muttered. He tried to avoid thinking about Sunnydale and the living souls who still occupied its borders. Not because of any homesickness or desire to return to his old life, but instead he simply despised them all for what they stood for - light, righteousness, conscience and the 'good fight' against the darkness. How infuriatingly absurd, the way they continued on with their pitiful little lives preoccupied with the things that go "bump" in the Sunnydale night.

"Ever wonder what Buffy's doing? It was kinda strange that she never came looking for us."

Rupert's eyes found the dropped switchblade and with a grunt he snatched it up from the ground.

"What's the matter, Lover?" Willow asked as he moved like a storm cloud toward the empty vessel.

"I'd wager she forgot about us within a fortnight..."

"Huh?"

"...now and it's time to jog her memory."

He slid the knife under the corpse's shirt and slit the material from hem to collar. "Let's see... it must be something simple... a message that even 'she' would understand."

"How about 'Hi Buffy!'?" Willow snickered.

The corner of Rupert's lip curled upward into a sneering smile. "I was considering just signing our work 'Thinking of you' and our initials."

"Do both." Willow said wickedly. "Then we'll drive up to Sunnydale and dump this guy in her front yard."

Giles began to carve the words into the man's chest. "Too overt, I'm not foolish enough to believe that we are strong enough to face her.. yet. Instead we will let this filter back to her via that policewoman and our friend Angel. Remember what Mistress said - better to be patient and just occasionally fray their nerves while waiting for the proper time."

Willow rolled her eyes. "Yeah, 'cause we have more 'time' than they do. I'm just getting tired of all this waiting around crap. I wanna go back to Sunnydale and make them scream... now, not ten years from now."

"I agree." Rupert confessed. "But for the foreseeable future we have to honor our position down here."

"All right.... damn. Guess we'll have to just be happy with rattling her cage. That's cool." Willow leaned up against the alley wall and watched Giles finish his handiwork. "So we gonna go 'nightclubbing party' or we gonna go back home and 'naked party'?"

"Naked party." Rupert answered with an air kiss in her direction. He plunged the knife to the hilt into the man's stomach to punctuate his message. "Now for those nasty fingerprints." He mumbled taking his handkerchief out and wiping down the handle. "There Luv, a work of art if must say so myself."

Arm in arm the two made their way back to their car, pausing occasionally to kiss and touch and inflame each other with vivid descriptions of what the rest of the night would bring. They continued the titillation for the entire thirty minute trip back to their lair and by the time they reached the door to their flat in the Wolfram Building, both were shaking with unbridled lust.

Rupert swung Willow through the door and pinned her against the wall with a kiss. She responded by grinding into his body and reaching around to pull his shirt free.

"Oh don't mine me..."

Rupert turned around and glared at Wesley who sat in an easy chair taking in the scene with obvious amusement.

"...I have a minute or so to spare, so Mr. Giles, feel free to go ahead and finish up." Wesley laughed at his insinuation then took it a step further. "Oh what the hell, try to last a full three before you pop."

"Get... out!" Giles snarled as his vampire face bloomed.

"That is not a very mannerly greeting."

"A thousand pardons..." Rupert snotted, coming across the room. "...I will make sure I throw you through that wall in a 'mannerly' fashion."

Wesley didn't move an inch. "Are we a little grumpy this evening?" He cocked his head and looked around Giles toward Willow. "Hello, my dear. How have you been?"

"Okay. We just went out to eat." Willow grumbled. "Then we came back here to get horizontal but you messed that up."

"What a shame." Wesley said flatly. "But I have a much more interesting diversion for you."

Rupert stopped his advance and scowled at Wesley. "What do you want?!"

"Willow...." Wesley answered in a suggestive tone. He paused as Giles drew in a hiss then continued. "...and you Rupert, so relax. I'm here for business not pleasure."

Willow rolled her eyes. "Like what?"

"It's time to bring Angelus back into the fold."

Both Giles and Willow arched an eyebrow.

Wesley leaned forward and began to clean his glasses. "I see I got your attention."

Giles nodded faintly as his game face faded. "Somewhat."

"I've been giving this a lot of thought and I believe that I've come up with a splendid plan. Would you care to hear it?"

"What plan?" Willow snotted as she came across the room and draped herself into the love seat. "We don't need a plan... we know what will change him. He gets the big happy and.." She raised her hand and waved good-bye. "...bye-bye Mr. Soulful, hello Mr. Bad Boy." Then with a pat on the arm of the divan she cooed to Rupert. "Speaking of 'bad boys'... come her and sit with me."

"As long as he just 'sits'." Wesley spit.

Rupert shot Wesley a look and sat down beside Willow. "I'll do as I damn well please." He challenged, drawing her into his lap.

Wesley drew in a deep breath just to hiss it back out in exasperation as Rupert began to nibble on Willow's neck. "Yes.. yes.. your lair, your female, your usual vexing logic. But may I point out that you owe it all to Mistress Rita's generosity. If it was not for her you would be living in the sewer, pimping out Willow for your cigarette money."

Rupert raised his head and sneered. "Guess that makes me the luckiest sod on the planet."

"May we get back to business?"

"What business? There isn't any 'business'." Giles grumbled as he slid Willow back off his lap and reached into his shirt pocket for his smokes and fire. "Angel cannot lose his soul without Buffy and.." He flicked his lighter into life, lit a cigarette and took a deep drag. "...and I can't see Buffy laying down for him."

"Forget the soul, forget Buffy."

With a small shake of his head Giles leaned back into the couch and made a motion for Wesley to continue.

"The soul has nothing to do with it." Wesley said with a twisted smile. "Like I stated, before I was so rudely interrupted; I've been giving this a lot of thought and have come to the conclusion that having a soul will make him even more wicked, because when he turns to evil it will be of his own free will."

"Think about it. Just in the last twenty-five years we have had the genocide of Rwanda, The Balkans, Cambodia, and East Timor, just to name a few. These events can all be iced with the violence of random terrorism against the innocent as jetliners come falling from the sky into sleepy villages, car bombs in the marketplace, children burned to death in their beds because their family lives in the wrong end of town...."

"So? Get to the point." Giles interrupted as he flicked an ash off into the pot of the silk fig tree beside him.

Willow frowned and gave him a poke with her elbow. "Don't do that!"

"Then get me an ashtray." Rupert muttered. "Or two.. since this seems to be heading into one of Wesley's endless dissertations."

"May I continue?!" Wesley snapped. "The 'point' is that all the perpetrators of these actions had souls and were also endowed with that 'still small voice' which told them right from wrong." He stood and began to pace. "This came to me a few weeks ago and it makes sense. It's not the soul that controls Angel, it's his fear of further damnation and that fear is what gives him the strength to control his demon."

Giles rubbed his chin and gave the idea a grudging consideration. "It has been theorized that human good springs not so much from the desire to be virtuous, but rather it is fueled by the fear of getting caught by the lawgivers."

"That's what kept me on that old straight, narrow and boring path." Willow admitted, handing off the ashtray to Giles.

Wesley nodded. "As it is for the lion's share of humanity. But what is it that makes a person step over the line? Why would a man suddenly quit patching his roof and instead use the hammer to bash out his neighbor's brains, just because this unfortunate was of a different tribe? What causes a woman to betray her sister-in-law of twenty years and laugh as she is being dragged away, her only crime being she calls God by a different name?"

"A lot of factors. Mob mentality, jealousy, spite.. these could all be the trigger." Giles said with rising interest in the track the conversation was taking.

"And underneath it all is the feeling that one is an outsider, condemned to stand on the sidelines and watch as 'they' get the brass ring." Wesley rubbed his hands together. "Angel will never get the brass ring. He will never be totally a part of the group. He will never be human. It's a cold hard fact that no matter how many honorable deeds he places on the ledger, he still craves warm human blood. And I can tell you as a fact he still enjoys the kill, for I have personally seen the pleasure in his eyes when he dispatches a kinsman to hell."

Giles went over to the bookcase and scanned the titles. "So we show him the folly of his ways." He picked a book out and began to leaf through it. "Mmmmm.... redirect his murderous instinct back to where it belongs."

"Correct. We just need to push him over the edge once and then his demon will again be in command. That's why I'm here." Wesley motioned toward the books and then toward Willow's computer. "The two of you have both the resources and the skill to do this job. Mistress and I have heard what fine work you have been doing for Karl, he reported to us that he doesn't know how he ever functioned without your magics."

Giles dismissed the overblown compliment. "That goes without saying." He handed Willow the book and tapped at a page. "Truth Manes. These could be just what we are looking for."

Willow pursed her lips. "I like that, Lover. We could send them to him in a dream." With a giggle she ran her finger down the words. "Piss him off by showing him all the stuff he doesn't like to think about, like Buffy screwing Riley."

"And all the people who have died because of his failures." Giles added.

"And everything he cannot have." Wesley interjected. "Love, sun, family and friends to grow old with... all the joys that he will never taste for he is an outsider in the world of the breathers."

"Yessssss... breathers." Giles hissed. "Add a spell to make his senses even sharper. Let him hear and feel and taste how different he is from all those around him. Use the heartbeats of all those within a block of him to hammer home the actuality of his alien status."

Willow morphed, her eyes glowing yellow in anticipation of the evil she was about to put into motion. "Coooool! Let's do it now!"