BtVS belongs to Joss. I bow before his greatness. And lament many of his decisions.

Just a thought that I had as I was walking. I always thought that the tranq gun used for Oz in Phases should have been used to take down Angelus.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

Bored as her Watcher was lecturing her on...something...Buffy was staring at the dart-loaded rifle that they had used to sedate Oz during the full moon. A sudden, strange thought formed in her mind.

"Giles," Buffy said very slowly. "Do tranquilizers work on vampires?"

The Watcher's head jerked up and he stared at his Slayer in surprise, his glasses askew, all thought of a lecture forgotten. Buffy repressed the urge to giggle at the comical sight.

"W-well, yes," he stammered. "I do believe that that would work, though I've never heard of anything like that being done..." He began to mutter incomprehensibly to himself as he hastily flipped through various books. "Yes, yes...it's worth a try if nothing else."

Bingo. Buffy grinned.

Now she just had to figure out how to design the trap.

-------

"So why are we here again?" Xander whined as Cordelia stopped the car engine at the gates of the cemetary.

"Because we're being bait," his girlfriend responded in her most superior, bored tone. "But why are we always the bait?" she demanded of Buffy.

"You wanna shoot the rifle?"

"Why not?" came the immediate answer. "It's time someone with real fashion sense gets the Slayer."

"Cordelia," moaned an exasperated Giles, "just...just do as you're told."

"Fine," the cheerleader muttered irritably. "This coming from the man who thinks that leather shoulder-pads are still in style---as if they ever were!" She was about to continue, but Xander saved everyone's sanity by enthusiastically kissing her.

------

Just as he was coming up for a much needed breath of air, Xander heard a much loathed voice drawl, "Xander, Cordelia, how pleasant to see you here."

"Hi, Angy," Xander replied flippantly, even as his palms became moist with the cold sweat of fear.

The look on Angelus' face when he heard his new nickname was a great boost for Xander's confidence. "What? I think it's a cool name."

Angelus obviously did not.

"But of course," Xander added hastily, feeling that he was living on borrowed time. "We could always call you Scotty." Just need to keep talking, he thought.

"Except that...that you're Irish!" Cordelia added. Xander had forgotten that part. "So, I know, let's call you Danny!" she exclaimed. "Dannyboy, like in that weird song."

Angelus seemed too offended to speak. For the Scoobies, that was likely a good thing.

Any time now, Buffy, Xander thought. Any time now.

His prayers were soon answered as, with a sudden whoosh!, a sedative-loaded dart found its target in Angelus' chest. For a moment he just stared at the dart, before ripping it out and remarking with a bone-chilling smirk, "funny thing about these, is, well, they don't really work too well on vampires."

I really hope he's wrong, was Xander's thought. Angelus was now quickly closing the distance between them. Xander grabbed his girlfriend's hand and started running the opposite direction. Their job was done now: there was nothing in the book of rules that said that they couldn't run now.

Three more whoosh!s filled the air, and finally Xander heard the satisfying sound of a large body hitting the ground. He immediately turned around and, upon seeing the glowering face of Angelus as he suddenly found out that his limbs wouldn't work, began his victory dance.

A certain feminine hand smacked him in the head. "Stop that. You look ridiculous."

------

Angelus tried to open his eyes--only to find that there was something weighing down on them. Something...wet. He tried to wipe it away with his hand, only to find that his hands were chained. His legs too.

"Hey, Will," came a boy's voice. "Green or pink?"

"Pink?" came the disbelieving answer. Willow? he wondered.

"Pink it is," Xander Harris decided. This does not bode well, the master vampire thought.

Someone was touching his feet.

Someone was touching his feet!

Angelus immediately commenced thrashing.

"It might be easier to do his fingernails," came a quiet, even, male voice that Angelus couldn't identify.

Fingernails!

Angelus tried to object rather vociferously--only to find that speaking is rather difficult when your mouth is full of shaving cream.

They will pay, he vowed. They will pay.

One of the girls burst into a fit of laughter.

They will pay, he thought to himself again. Somehow he didn't believe it.