Part 6, "Just Another Vampire".
This final part follows up part 1, "Just Another Slayer", part 2, "Just Another Watcher", part 3, "Just Another Witch", part 4, "Just Another Sidekick", and part 5, "Just Another Nerd".
This multi-part story takes place many years after BTVS and ATS and several years after season 10 of the comics. This story references events in all of these series.
All of this is the property of Joss Whedon and his associates.
The water was dark. She had done this before. There was nothing to fear. With one plunge, Margot was immersed. She opened her eyes under water. It was night, and the ocean currents were gentle. Moonlit speckles illuminated the underwater landscape.
This was the part she liked. Watching the darkness turn to light. From below, the glowing began. A shimmery green fluorescent wave drifted toward her. She reached her hand out, and like every other time, she felt only the soft salt water wash over her skin.
Glowing plankton swam around her. She bobbed in the water alongside her slim outrigger canoe and waited. Breaching the surface and taking a breath, her eyes took in the large moon that hung overhead.
Night after night, she waited beside her canoe for the manta ray to come. Tonight she had a job to do.
She glanced at the bright lights along the coast. A trickle of laughter drifted out onto the water. Somewhere people were living their lives while she floated.
She turned her eyes back to the ocean. She needed her eyes to stay adjusted to the dark. She thought about the flashlights that people carry in the dark when they camp in the woods. If only they would turned off the light and let their eyes adjust, the night would come alive for them.
Slowly the glittering waves in the distance came into focus. A night full of dimension and beauty surrounded her.
She felt the wave wash over her arms as she treaded water. It was coming.
Ducking her head below the surface, she saw the large winged creature approach. It was like watching ballet. A graceful wedge-shaped animal drifted toward her and then gently bent its twelve-foot figure away from her. She studied it, her eyes carefully covering its glistening skin.
Just above the whip-like tail, she saw what she was looking for. A small barbed hook jutted from the animal's skin.
She waited for the ray to approach her. It was important that it feel relaxed for what she needed to do.
Other nights she had waited in her boat for the fluorescent plankton to appear. Tonight, she somehow knew this was the night.
She gently bobbed in the surf. The wind was warm. She was content to wait.
A soft fin nudged her in the water as it turned to feed on the plankton. She crooked her head toward it as it slid beside her. Her treading legs held her up as she reached her hand out just above its skin. She didn't want to touch the animal for fear that her hand's oils would upset the ray's precise skin chemistry.
And then she saw the hook approach. With one swift move, she gripped the small piece of metal and pulled backward sharply. It was out.
She leaned back as the tail whipped around. It wasn't a sting ray, but she knew that a swift lash could do some damage. It barely missed her leg as the ray angled downward and into the depths.
She let out her breath and then pulled steadily toward the small ocean canoe attached to her leg. With one deep breath, she heaved over the side and into the boat. She lay there for many minutes staring up into the moon, waiting for her heartbeat to slow. The stars slowly wheeled above her as she gazed up into the sky.
As she turned the small vessel toward the shore, she was grateful to the fishermen who had told her about the ray. It had been an accident, and they had worried about the animal.
She had been paddling out into the surf night after night. After hours of waiting, she would paddle back to shore. It was part of her job as a biologist, but every night the trip back over the waves became more difficult. In fact, everything was more tiring lately.
Getting back to her jeep, she took a long drink of water and caught her breath for the drive home.
Staying awake at night had not been the problem. Her time as a slayer had trained her for this. But, the magic had disappeared from the islands of her home, and she hadn't found anything on her patrols for months. She began to wonder if the universe was taking her powers elsewhere.
Entropy was the guiding force, Giles once told her. All systems tend toward decay and a balance where power is needed. Perhaps, the universe didn't need her to be a slayer anymore. Or maybe, the universe was indifferent. Maybe she didn't need to be a slayer anymore.
When she reached the small bungalow she once shared with a former vampire, she lay on the bed, wrapped in a towel, and waited for sleep to come. It was nearly daylight.
Overtired, her mind treated her to a series of dreamlets, surreal images that passed before her in flashes as she closed her eyes.
A red scythe dropped to the ground.
Her eyes opened. No. Not now.
Faith and Angel were locked in combat. They leaned into one another. With one push of the ax handle from Faith, Angel was launched backward. He grunted as he landed on his back.
She smiled and bounced on her toes, ready for another.
Angel pushed himself up in one swift move.
The two circled each other.
With one sudden move of her elbow, the ax swung past Angel's ducked head.
While her body was tilting in, he kicked up and landed a blow at her knee that sent her sprawling.
She smiled from the ground as he stood above her.
"You don't need to attack first." He said with a half-grin as he offered a hand up. She took it, and he pulled her into a deep kiss.
"-Ahem."
The two whirled around. Margot was leaning against the brick wall of the small gym, smirking.
"Sorry, I didn't know when to uh-"
Faith's face broke into a smile as she walked over to her friend. Margot grinned back. It was good to see another slayer. There weren't many left.
At least there hadn't been until they had talked to Willow the previous week.
Angel nodded to Margot in greeting and chose that moment to grab a towel and head to the shower. Faith's eyes flicked back to the vampire's as they shared a fleeting look.
"Sorry, slayers make him uncomfortable." Faith apologized.
"Yeah, I remember that." Margot thought back to the battle of Vermillion. Angel had been polite yet aloof.
"Even with the squad of slayers we used to have, it was mostly me who worked with them."
"Yeah, is it the Buffy of it?"
Faith shrugged. "Maybe. It always goes back to her."
"Funnily enough, that's why I'm here." Margot's toe nudged the duffle bag beside her.
Faith glanced down. She recognized the shape within.
Margot continued. "I need to talk to him this time, though."
Faith nodded. "Okay, but give him a few minutes."
The slayers walked out of the gym and into the small underground apartment Faith and Angel shared in Rio de Janeiro. Margot flopped down onto a couch.
Faith walked over to the fridge and tossed a drink to Margot before sinking down in a nearby chair. The two talked about the conference call they had received that week from Willow. The missing slayers and wicca were coming home. They were both grateful they were no longer an endangered species. As the evening wore on, there was still no sign of Angel.
Eventually, Faith apologized and headed to bed. Margot understood. She was plenty tired from the series of flights from Hawaii to Brazil and was happy to crawl under a blanket on the couch.
Sometime in the night, she stirred awake. She felt someone in the room. As she opened her eyes, she saw the form of Angel silhouetted in the chair next to the couch. It was dark, but she could see that he was watching her.
She sat up. "How long have you been there?"
Angel sat still and studied her. "I'm sorry. I didn't know what to say." His voice was hesitant.
"It's ok, Angel."
The two sat in the darkness. Margot leaned over and took a sip from her drink.
She started. "I don't want to presume what it is about me that makes you uncomfortable. So, instead I'll just tell you why I'm here."
Angel nodded.
"It's Spike."
He snorted and leaned back. "Why is it always him?"
Margot studied him and then launched into her pitch. "Yeah, I get that you two are not close. Or perhaps too close. I don't know. But, I need you to bring him back."
"I don't know." His voice was hedging.
"Would you do it for Buffy?"
He turned his head to the side, thought for a moment and replied. "Do you want him back?"
Margot arose, walked over to the duffle and pulled out the red scythe. "Angel, it's not for me that he needs to come back."
He stared at the weapon. "Margot, I think you need to let him go. I let her go." He nodded at the weapon. "Seeing that made me uncomfortable because, I don't know, I guess I've moved on."
He continued. "I put those feelings to rest a long time ago. It used to bother me that I was over it. But then, I realized my life here with Faith makes sense. There's a sense of peace I get with her. She and I can accept each other's …" He hesitated.
"Challenges?" She offered.
"Yeah, something like that." He paused. "Maybe you should just let him go."
"Angel, it's not for me or anyone else that he needs to come back. He's not done yet."
"-God, I don't want to hear another cookie dough analogy." He rolled his eyes.
"Agreed." She held up a hand in surrender. "Besides, it's me that's done."
Angel was puzzled.
She gestured around her vaguely. "With this. With this life. I have other work to do besides battling evil."
"Okay. But why me?" Angel sighed.
"Because of you, he became a monster." Her voice was low. "Whatever he has to do next, I have a feeling you have a part to play in it."
He looked at her.
"Plus, you're the only dead guy I know."
"Yeah, there's that."
"Based upon the afterlife debrief, I think you need to be dead to go where he is."
She held the scythe out.
He flinched. "I don't want it."
"It's not for you. She'd want him to have it. You know it. I know it. And you have to deliver it."
Angel turned away.
"Angel, you feel guilty for a lot of things. Why not Spike?"
He sighed. "Spike once said that I'm uncomfortable around him because he reminds me of all the terrible things I've done. That's not it."
He turned to glance at Margot. "When he became a vampire, I tried to kill everything that was good in him. He's right about that. But, I never succeeded. That's why I never felt guilty about him. Despite everything I did, and everything he did, Spike still had it in him. With or without a soul."
She held the scythe out again. "Isn't that worth bringing back?"
Angel's shoulders folded as he took the scythe.
She heard him grumble to himself as he walked away.
The next evening, Faith drove Angel and Margot to the airport. A private jet with tempered glass awaited Angel, courtesy of Kennedy. Margot was heading home on a commercial flight.
Faith was perplexed. "I don't get it. You're not going to be a slayer anymore?"
Margot was quiet. "No."
The trio was silent.
Angel cleared his voice. "I don't think you get to choose to be a slayer. I don't think it works that way." He thought again. "I don't think you can choose not to be a slayer."
From the seat behind him, Angel heard Margot say, "I just did."
As Angel and Faith watched Margot walk into the terminal, she had a question for him. "Will you be back to help us with the demon thing?" The pair had been in on the conference call with Willow, and the Scoobies were preparing for battle.
"Yeah, I will." Angel looked into Faith's eyes. "It's not like I want to go-"
"-But you should. I mean, when you come back, you'll be ready."
"For what?"
"To work with slayers."
He nodded.
The next evening, Angel was on the streets of Bangkok. It was a sultry evening, and the people passed him on the busy street. It was another big city where Angel slipped past most people's notice, despite the black trench coat he wore. The rest of the city's inhabitants seemed to be sweating in their tank tops, shorts, dresses and flip flops. Angel did not. Yet, despite the lack of attention he was getting, he felt out of place.
As he turned into an ocean-front lounge bar, he spotted Andrew sipping from a tall drink in a ceramic tiki tumbler at the bar and chatting up the bartender. He sat down beside him just as Andrew was winding up the conversation. He turned to Angel.
"Wow. You're still large and foreboding." Andrew observed. "Have you considered acting in the Marvel movies? They seem to be replacing the Hulk every few years. You have the temperament. Mild mannered, then suddenly, Grrr-Arghh! Angelus smash! Followed up by the obligatory years of guilt hangovers."
"Uh-" Angel didn't know what to say.
"Relax, big guy, I know why you're here. Faith called and filled me in. Still waiting for the Hot Pockets she owes me, but whatever."
There was nothing Angel wanted to order, but he studied the liquor bottles behind the bar anyway.
Somewhere in the middle of Andrew's rambling speech, Angel heard him say, "And why can't the rest of the Scoobies get a handle on their psyches? Why is it me that has to help you get to the place where the souls boogie down? You should try coming out of the closet."
Angel muttered, "Well there was Will-"
Andrew didn't hear him. "That was a barrel of monkeys. That is, if monkeys were your sexuality…Hmmm. Not the best metaphor, I know-"
"Andrew?" Angel was trying to be patient.
Andrew sighed. "Fine. Of course, I'll help you." Andrew took one last slurp from his drink, threw some cash down and gestured his head toward the door.
Hours later, after Andrew gave an exhaustive run-down of procedures and theory to Angel, complete with drawings on the chalkboard leaning against the wall of his bungalow, they were ready.
As Angel drifted off to sleep, he heard Andrew beside him in the darkness as they floated over a curved earth.
"Look, we'll dispense with the outer chamber that Giles built. Please. Hasn't every AP English class covered Plato's Cave? I mean, c'mon. Really? We get it, Giles. Eat your Wheaties or, in his case, Weetabix, and read your classics."
Angel looked down and saw a large cave below with one small fire.
"Willow used up most of the mojo here when she poofed the vampires from this realm. Gosh, I hope she doesn't have to come back and poof them in the next place."
From the low red glow, Angel could see Andrew place one finger to his chin in thought. "Come to think of it…Shouldn't this cave also go poof? She got rid of all the vampires. What's left?"
He glanced at Angel who stared back at him through his eyebrows in irritation.
"Oh, right. You're still a vampire." Andrew rolled his eyes. Then he added brightly, "Welp, here it is, if you ever turn evil again. Your very own realm. Kinda boring with no one to torture or drink, but it might be fun."
Angel stared ahead into a glowing white light. It really is like a tunnel.
"You like?" Andrew was smiling at Angel, looking for validation. "I added the light-at-the-end-of-the-tunnel bit. Previously, there wasn't much of a transition. I think if people are going to come this far, they deserve an experience."
"Andrew, this isn't Knott's Berry Farm-" Angel's long withheld burst of impatience was interrupted as they shot through a cloud and landed in front of the pearly gates.
The Soul Demon was checking off names on a list as a troop of girl scouts and their bus driver walked single-file through the entrance.
Once they were happily skipping away into the distance on the other side of the gates, the Soul Demon turned his attention to Andrew and Angel.
His shoulders dropped in dismay as he recognized Andrew. "You again? I've told you not to loiter around here anymore." He fussily gestured around the gate and his lectern. "I understand why you came here with Spike that one time, but all the times you showed up since?"
"What? I was working on my skills. You never know when my services will be needed." Andrew was disappointed. "Plus, that one time? I brought Chinese checkers. C'mon, once you got your big 'ol paws around those game pieces, you seemed to like it."
The Soul Demon allowed Andrew a half-smile in surrender. "Yeah, okay."
"So, but this time, I've brought someone who needs to get in."
The Soul Demon riffled through his papers. "I wasn't expecting anyone today." He peered curiously at Angel. "…But you do look familiar."
"This is Angel." Andrew proudly introduced the vampire with a flourish, as if to announce the Amazing Santini.
The Soul Demon broke into a wide grin and gushed. "Angel! Wow, what a pleasure to meet the great Angelus! There aren't a lot of vampires with souls." Angel's eyes flicked back and forth in discomfort.
The Soul Demon came out from behind his lectern as if to shake Angel's hand, but stopped short, remembering himself. The tone of his voice lowered as he growled, "You seek me, vampire?"
This sort of thing was more in Angel's wheelhouse. He stood up tall and replied authoritatively. "Yes, I seek you. I need to enter the gates."
"First, you must survive the demon trials." The Soul Demon rumbled.
Angel was confused. "But, uh, I already have a soul."
The Soul Demon dropped the act as his voice returned to its conversational tone. "Yeah, but you didn't earn it. The gypsies cursed you. It doesn't count."
Angel wiped his eyes in frustration. Over a hundred years of enduring a guilt-soaked soul? And it wasn't enough?
Andrew took this moment of uncomfortable silence to announce: "Well, that's my cue to skedaddle. Good luck, big guy." With a quick slap to Angel's back and a whoosh of clouds, Andrew was gone.
Angel turned back to the demon, resigned.
"Your challenge, Angel, is to face every single human you've turned into a vampire, and every single human those vampires have turned and so on and so on. So, buckle up, we're going to be here for a while."
Angel's face crumpled in dismay and squeaked out. "What?"
The Soul Demon's face broke out into a grin. "Oh, Cripes, partner. I can't keep this up for too long." He pointed a finger at Angel. "You should see the look on your face. Classic Angel. I've been meaning to mess with you for centuries. You're so serious. First with the 'Grrr-I'm Evil!' Then with the 'Grrr-I'm broody!' "
Angel's face was stricken.
The Soul Demon approached and put an arm around Angel. "But, seriously, buddy. Why didn't you come to me for a soul before the gypsies got to you? You know I'd hook you up."
Angel was still speechless.
"So, you can enter, but you need a guide who, uh…" The Soul Demon tilted his head back and forth, searching for the words, "…has to walk you through a few things. No biggie. But, seriously, you can't just walk in and get what you came for. I have a reputation to uphold, you understand."
"Sure…?" Angel wasn't sure what was going on. He looked around for the guide.
The Soul Demon spun him around to where Faith stood grinning at Angel.
Angel was relieved. He put a hand out toward her, but it drifted right through her.
"Are you here?" Angel asked.
"No, dummy." She laughed. "We just discussed this yesterday. I'm on my way to the Scoobies. We've got a demon war council. I'm taking a slayer nap on the flight and decided to check up on you. Don't worry. It's just the lucid dreaming trick Willow taught me. But, as soon as we land, I gotta jam." She pointed her thumb backward.
Angel was happy to see her for however long he had. The pair walked through the gates. Faith looked backward at the Soul Demon. The two shared a conspiratorial nod.
Once on the other side of the gates, Angel took in the scenery. Fathoms of rolling hills of fluffy white clouds surrounded them.
"Gotta say, I never pictured myself here." Angel said under his breath, hoping it wasn't a mistake.
"Relax, if it's good enough for Spike, it's good enough for you."
Angel nodded and then stopped in thought. "Wait. Don't you have to be dead to be here?"
Faith leaned in for a whisper, "I think because I was in a coma all that time, they figured that's close enough."
The two slinked off, gleeful that they were getting away with something. Faith laughed. "It beats feeling guilty all the time."
The two spent the day walking around the cottony mountains, enjoying the sun. As they stretched out side-by-side on a sunny hill, Angel asked her. "Do you remember when we..?"
"-Catalogued your crimes and misdemeanors?" Faith finished the question.
"Is that what we're going to do?"
"Kinda. Except you're not Angelus this time."
Angel smiled as he placed his hand over her transparent hand. "You brought me back."
"You were ready to come back, because you learned something." Faith slowly sat up. "Now it's time for another."
She looked into Angel's eyes and ghosted a hand across his cheekbone. "Tell me why the slayers make you so twitchy."
Angel paused. "They don't really. Not anymore, anyway. I think I was dealing with Buffy's death, but I've moved on."
Faith grinned. "Try again. That's the answer you gave Margot. But you and I know it's more than that."
Angel leaned back, sighed and stared up into the sun. "Yeah, okay."
The sky darkened. The cottony hills were replaced by sooty buildings. Bursts of flame shot out of red brick buildings. Black coal dust hung in the air.
"This is Liverpool during World War One." Angel explained.
They were standing in a muddy alley, and garbage and industrial debris were everywhere. Behind one pile, there was a stirring of motion. A man in rags clutched a bottle.
Faith recognized him. "That's you."
"If you look a certain age, it was hard not to get conscripted into the war. I was safe here, through."
Several women in fancy attire and dark makeup passed him by and tossed him a coin. Angel in the scene scrambled for it. As the women moved out of sight, his desperate expression turned to a steely appraisal.
"That was the Irish Mafia." Angel beside her explained.
"Yeah, but they're chicks. How could that be?"
"They were part of a family that ran protection for the neighborhood. When their men went to war, the women ran the business. I was safe from getting rounded up for the war as long as they were in control. I wasn't so lucky in the next world war, but that's another story."
Angel and Faith followed the women who pushed an older man up against a wall. "Anyone who wanted to organize workers was kept in line. They kept the steel mill working during the war. The coppers were paid off."
A group of young thugs approached the women.
"I thought you said the boys were drafted."
"Those aren't boys."
Fangs emerged from their lips as the young men's eyes yellowed. Angel recognized some of them as vampires he had turned, back in his soul-free days.
"This was a good place to be a vampire. Lots of tasty women working at night. Sometimes we could walk around in the day because dark dust blocked out the sun. There was just one problem."
Dark haired with pale skin, the youngest of the women emerged from the group, slight in figure but with a determined expression.
"The slayer." Faith knew one when she saw one.
From her waistband, the young Irish girl pulled out a stake and dusted the closest vampire before the other vampires could react. She whirled and dusted another. The rest snarled and ran off.
The women walked away. From behind a pile of industrial waste, Angel emerged and watched the distant women with interest.
"As long as I played the part of a beggar, they tossed me a coin every once in a while. I could buy butcher's blood with that. They never had to know what I was."
"You had your soul, though. You wouldn't have killed them anyway."
"It was still pretty new, though. I was still figuring out what I would do with it."
The scene shifted to another night in another alley.
This time the slayer was alone with a vampire. The fight wasn't going well. The stake she brought was lying many yards away. The streets were littered with steel bars and chips, nearly useless against a vampire.
She managed to throw him off balance and roll him toward the stake. Just as she had him pinned and was raising the stake to sink into him, a shot was fired. The girl collapsed on the vampire, and blood spread in a growing crimson circle across her back.
A police officer approached. The vampire on the ground briefly salivated at the slayer's blood inches away. Then he dropped his brow ridges, and the fangs receded.
As the police officer drew near, the vampire pulled away from the girl and ran off.
"As long as the police didn't know what we were, the vampires had a lot of prey to pick off. The vampire gang was smart."
"Why kill the slayer?" Faith was upset. "I thought the mafia had free rein here."
"The coppers drew the line at murder."
The officer walked away from the scene, leaving the girl's body alone among the filth.
"There was so much corruption. There was no recourse for what they did." Angel watched himself emerge from behind the trash to stand over the girl. Hours seemed to pass as they watched his still form over hers.
"Why didn't you stop it, Angel?" Faith's voice was barely a whisper.
Angel paused. "I couldn't. Who was I? I wasn't the person you know now. I was just a filthy vampire who had killed so many girls. I was crippled with guilt."
A noise from down the alley startled Angel, and he skirted around a corner. They watched the girl's family approach.
The scene shifted. A dark room held the dead girl on a table. A group stood around. Clearly, this was the girl's home.
"They brought in a Chinese healer to bring her back from the dead."
A man stood over the body, rubbing salve into her wound. The women watched mutely from the wall behind him. The scene sped up as they watched the man apply the salve over and again. The sun set and rose many times behind the curtains. Finally, one morning, the girl gasped and sat up. The healer pushed her back onto the table. The women came closer and watched the girl's bewildered wheezing.
"It took weeks to bring her back." Angel explained. "By then it was too late."
"For what?" Faith watched the scene.
"Another had been called."
The scene shifted to an alley behind a pub. A curly haired girl dumped bottles from the pub into the piles of trash. A rag was draped across her shoulder. From behind the piles, a red haired vampire stood up and reached for her. From within her apron, she pulled out a stake and swiftly dusted him.
"Now there were two slayers." Faith had seen this before.
Angel remained quiet.
As the girl turned back to the pub, a figure peered at her from behind another corner. It was the Irish slayer. Her eyes were intent.
"It's like she's stalking a vampire." Faith observed.
The Irish slayer continued her surveillance of the pub alley as the hours wore on.
"Did you ever wonder why I wanted to help you, Faith? That time when you were turning bad? When you first met the mayor? It wasn't just because Buffy asked."
Faith turned to look at him as he studied the Irish slayer.
He continued. "I didn't want this to happen to you and Buffy."
The night wore on as the pub's patrons began to stumble out into the alley. The bar maid slayer dumped another pile of bottles in the alley just as the Irish slayer appeared from behind the corner, stake held high.
The bar maid slayer caught her arm in the downswing as she aimed for her heart.
"Why is this happening?" Faith was confused.
Angel's voice was low. "She came back wrong."
Blow after blow, kick after kick, they were evenly matched. One would shift her weight, but she would be unable to topple the other. In the dark hours of the night, there was no witness to their struggle.
Except for one. A pile of rags shifted, and Faith recognized Angel's shaggy form.
"I watched it happen and did nothing." The Angel in the scene watched the girls block and whirl, kick and scratch, and grapple and roll across the ground. "No one notices the drunks in the alley, and while I didn't touch a drop, I might as well have been one of those drunks for all I was doing."
In their tussle, one girl, it didn't matter which one, got a hold of the stake and speared it heavily into the side of the other girl. The injured girl gasped, her lung clearly punctured. Then she pulled the stake out of her own body with one sharp pull, flipped it, and drove it into the girl hovering above her. Both girls collapsed in the alley. There was no one to help them. No one that mattered.
The sun rose as they watched the girls' bodies were dragged away to be dumped somewhere to be forgotten.
"Why?" Faith's voice choked.
"For the same reason the mafia boys left to fight a war they could easily have ducked. To protect their turf. She came back, not to kill vampires, but to protect what was her right."
And still Angel watched from beneath his piles of trash and rags.
"For years I felt nothing I did mattered. I didn't succeed at doing good until Whistler found me and brought me to Buffy. When you and Kendra came to town, I told no one what I knew. That you could have slayer memories of this at any time. And all would be lost."
Faith turned again to Angel beside her.
"I watched and hoped it wouldn't happen. But, of course it did."
He turned to her. "I'm sorry."
"How could you know?" Faith placed one ghostly hand against his face.
"I'm sorry, Faith. I didn't want you and Buffy to have the burden of knowing what was possible. When two slayers are together, something happens. I have been watching the new slayers and hoping that what these two girls did, and what you and Buffy did, wouldn't happen again."
He continued. "The fear, the guilt, it can eat at you. But you have been through it, Faith, and have come out the other side. There's no one like you."
Faith thought for a moment. "Well, there's Buffy."
His hand hovered over hers along his face. "No, there's just you."
She smiled.
"So, how do we help the slayers? They have a right to know."
"I don't know. All I know is, there's something about Margot."
Faith turned away. "She has the memories."
Angel agreed. "And more than most of them do."
The two walked along the sooty streets and quays of Liverpool.
"You know," Faith began, "she and I have talked. We're a lot alike." She smiled ruefully at Angel. "We tend to fight alone and get lost in the slayage."
"There's two ways to deal with it. Give up and do something else," Angel thought about Margot. He turned to Faith with a half-smile, "Or fight through it."
She smiled, and her eyes glanced downward at his admiration. "Spike and I tried to tell her about what slayers do, but she knew all along. I'm gonna miss having another slayer like me around." She thought for a moment and added. "We're gonna be ok. We're all gonna be ok. As long as the other slayers know about this."
She looked intently at Angel as he nodded.
"That's not everything, though." He stood up straight, and turned to her, as the scenery around them floated away. A lush countryside floated up behind him. Rolling hills of grass, pastures of grazing horses and small round wagons surrounded a colorful camp. A group of people followed a girl in long skirts and scarves out of the camp.
Angel's eyes were hooded. "Gypsies."
A woman was weeping as the girl left the camp behind and headed toward the smoking stacks of Liverpool.
The girl didn't turn back and instead trudged resolutely toward Angel and Faith, who stood between her and the path to the city.
At the top of the path, just before the pair, she stopped abruptly.
Her eyes met the ghostly figures of Faith and Angel. "They think I'll be trapped by the city. They only know the freedom of open skies and fields." She looked back at her family. "The truth is, we've been intermingling with other peoples ever since we left India many centuries ago."
Faith and Angel watched the girl turn back to them.
"The fact that I'm forced to leave home, it's something we've done over and again to survive." The girl told them soberly.
With that, the girl passed through their transparent bodies, unwavering in her path to her duty.
Angel's voice was quiet. "There has to be a slayer for every generation. And Liverpool is where the vampires were."
Faith turned to watch her go. "She chose to go, Angel, just like Margot. And me. And Buffy."
The pair watched her pass out of sight as her family wept.
"Everyone has to make their own family, either with a boyfriend, or children-" Faith explained.
"-Or with other vampires." Angel stared at the city.
"-Or with Scoobies." Faith added. "Maybe that's how we all keep from losing our minds."
The scene turned white. The clouds drifted in, and they were back on the sunny fluffy hillside. They were stretched out again on their backs staring up into the clouds.
"Why is it always the gypsies?" He asked.
She turned to him. "They cursed you with your soul."
"Yeah, but, there's more."
She nodded. There was always more with Angel. It comes with the territory of a 200-year-old vampire.
"Did you know that the girl I killed was a potential? That's why they were so upset. And yet, I never meant to kill a slayer."
Angel stood up, and offered a hand up to Faith. "Have you ever wondered why I never hunted slayers like Spike did?"
The two started down the hill, heading toward a valley. Somehow they knew where they needed to be.
Faith let him continue.
"As Angelus, I just wanted to break people's spirits. Just killing a slayer - what's the finesse in that? I became a killer. I could kill anyone I wanted any way I wanted."
Faith interjected. "And yet a slayer bested you, anyway."
He smiled at her. "More than a couple have."
He paused to stare into her eyes. The dark pools of her brown eyes faded. Then her body began to fade. And with that, she was gone.
A figure started to emerge from where she stood. Angel stared into the eyes that came into focus. They were blue and familiar.
Xander was driving. He, Willow and Dawn had been travelling for over a day. He and Dawn had arrived a few hours earlier at Heathrow Airport where Willow awaited them. Her big smile greeted them at the gate. It was slightly disappointing that she didn't have a sign in yellow crayon, but he was happy to see her anyway.
Since waking up from his trip underground to her, he had wanted to see her. Dawn had been relieved they were both ok. She had nervously watched his sleeping form while he was away. The demon wars were getting worse, and she needed their help.
Her calls to Giles while Willow and Xander were gone had spurred them all into action. They were going to Giles to meet up. It had been awhile since the Scoobies had had a war council, and the time had come.
Dawn and Xander had spent months trying to get help, but Giles, Willow, Spike, Andrew and now Angel were preoccupied by the troubles underground and places beyond.
Now that they were starting to trickle back from that battleground, it was time to turn their attention to the impending apocalypse. In yet another conference call, Xander and Dawn had explained. When the vampires had disappeared, it had left a power vacuum. The demons were now fighting a turf war over the remaining magic. The fighting had recently intensified and bled into the various human conflicts occurring around the world.
The trio was discussing the problem on their drive up to Giles in the Cotswolds.
"The conflicts are becoming more chaotic what with the demons fighting within the human wars", Xander explained.
"And no one can make peace because no one can get a handle on who all are involved," Dawn added.
"Because demons are pretty good at hiding themselves." Willow mused. "So how do we fix it?"
Xander and Dawn glanced at one another in the front seat.
Xander's voice was gentle. "We don't fix anything, Will. We can only make it a little better."
Willow leaned back into her seat. She was learning to let go of what she felt she had to control.
Xander pulled over into a petrol station. It was dark, and they were the only people around in the small hamlet in the English countryside. Willow and Dawn rolled out of the car. Dawn sauntered off into the station.
Willow watched Xander fill the car in the dim light. They smiled as they glanced at each other.
"I know, Xander. I'm working on it."
"It's just one thing we all work on." He grinned at his old friend. "Being mortal."
Her eyes narrowed as something over his shoulder caught her attention.
A large leathery figure was leading a group of teenagers out from behind the dumpster. They glanced at Willow and Xander before trotting across the road, heading toward a hedge. The demon was urging the kids to hurry with a harsh growl.
Willow stepped out from behind the car. "Stop." Her hand clutched a small ball of white light, ready to fling it at the demon.
Xander ran at the demon with all his might, but the demon flung him aside. Xander skidded along the road and peered up at the demon.
"It's a Fyarl demon, Will."
Willow's eyes were darkening as she stood her ground with the agitated demon. "It's a demon for hire. I remember these ones."
Xander shook his head as he remembered. "Is it Giles again?"
Willow's voice was growing deeper. "Of course not. Look into its eyes. Do you see Giles?"
Xander was chagrined. "Oh, right."
The Fyarl demon stomped and snorted as it squared off with the witch. The teenagers cowered behind it.
From behind the car, an arrow shot over Willow's shoulder and directly into the Fyarl demon's eye. The demon stumbled and fell, twitched and went still.
Dawn stepped out from behind the petrol pump. She swiftly folded her crossbow and stowed it into her jacket.
Willow watched this with great surprise.
Dawn shrugged. "You can't leave your weapons lying around. You'll never know when you need them."
Willow walked over to Xander and helped him up. Xander leaned his head back at Dawn. "Didn't I tell you about her?"
Dawn tossed them bags of candy. "They only had Joffre Cakes and Wispas. We should get going."
The teenagers looked at one another and then back at the Scoobies.
Xander approached them carefully. "Is there somewhere we can drop you off? Are your homes around here?"
A dark haired boy stepped forward. "No. That -" The boy glanced at the dead demon. "-thing was going to take us home."
Willow looked closely at the group. Two other boys with dark curly hair stood behind the one who spoke. Alongside them, a girl in a long veil stared back into her eyes, challenging her.
Willow began. "We can take you there."
The group snorted and glanced at each other in dismay.
It dawned on Xander. "We've seen this before in Africa. They're soldiers. The demons recruit them now that the vampire foot soldiers are gone."
"Only here, they're children of immigrants who want to go back where their parents came from," Dawn added.
The boy nodded. "My mum was a doctor back home. Now she does laundry in a hospital." He turned to his friends. "Might as well go back and fight for our own home."
The young woman and men nodded in agreement.
Xander tried to reason with them. "We just came from the demon wars in Africa. We've seen them take kids. Don't you understand? They'll use you and then when they run out of you, they'll start taking even younger kids."
The girl in the veil stepped forward, frustrated. "What are we supposed to do?"
"You could come fight with us," Dawn suggested.
The young people looked at one another, resigned.
Xander took Dawn's hand, and said quietly to her. "I hope we know what we're doing."
"Do we ever?" Dawn murmured to him as she watched the group come to an agreement. They would join the Scoobies.
It was a cramped ride the last few hours to the Cotswolds. As the sun rose, they arrived at the Giles family farm. Vast fields of green surrounded the stone buildings as the group stepped out of the car and stretched their legs.
A man stepped out of the house. Dawn and Willow folded Giles into a big Scooby embrace as Xander looked on with a small smile. It was good to be together again.
The teenagers were shown rooms to rest and refresh from their time with the demon while the Scoobies gathered around the kitchen fire. The morning wore on as they discussed the things Dawn and Xander had seen, the latest developments, and the research Giles and the wicca had done. In other wings of the stone house, the recovering wicca had been meditating on the demon wars.
Everyone was at a loss on how to approach the problem.
"The greatest issue is the lack of information," Giles said. He mused over this as he munched on a scone. "We do have a demon that came to us for sanctuary. He's been telling us as much as he can."
"Can we see him?" Willow asked.
"Of course. He's with the wicca, meditating, right now." Giles pointed the way.
The group made their way through the house while Giles explained. "Since our time in the underground, we've had to get a little creative about how we meditate, lest we get lost again. We did learn a couple things in London."
A low sound that had been in the background of their conversation became louder the deeper they delved into the house.
Giles opened a great oak door into a room. The sound burst out of the room within. A group of women played guitars, a sitar, and a piano. The music was loud but it coalesced into a vast network of notes, balanced and timed perfectly. At the drums sat a demon, his folded skin shaking to the beat.
The Scoobies grinned widely. It was Clem.
Giles shouted over the music. "It was the only way I knew how to keep from falling into the underground again. And it seems to be working for-"
The music cut suddenly with one nod from the lead guitar wicca.
"-them!" Giles shouted as the music ended abruptly.
As the women took a break, Clem rushed over, hugs for all.
They offered him a cup of tea as they settled into couches in the music den. They discussed the demon wars.
"I don't know much. I was drafted." He frowned as he blew on his tea. "I'm not much of a soldier. I'm just trying to survive."
Giles urged him on. "Tell them what you told us, Clem."
"Uh, I heard some of the demons say that we better give them their money's worth."
The Scoobies looked at each other.
Dawn put her hand on Clem's, trying to offer her friend some strength. "Whose money?"
Clem swallowed. "The Circle of the Black Thorn."
The group sat back. It seemed they would never be rid of them.
"We don't have any experience fighting them."
From behind them, they heard a familiar voice.
"I know someone who does." Faith stood in the doorway, grinning. "A couple people, actually. Couldn't wait for me at Heathrow, huh?"
They turned to her, stunned.
"It's fine. No need to apologize." Faith strode into the room and sat on the couch beside Giles who smiled warmly at her.
The Scoobies spoke at once, apologizing.
Faith raised her hand in surrender, laughing. "That's enough love for one day. I'm good."
Faith explained why Angel wasn't with her. The group considered the mission he was on and hoped that it would yield them both of the fighters in their new struggle against the Circle.
"We need Spike and Angel. They know this Circle." She told the group.
Giles nodded and added. "The Circle doesn't really want anything. All they wanted in Los Angeles was war. They feed on chaos."
"So, how do we beat them?" Faith asked.
"We don't. The war never ends." Willow answered. She contemplated the lessons of her life so far. "The war never ended and never will. There is no start and no end."
Xander nodded. "I think it starts with assembling the Scoobies."
The group agreed. It was time to unite all of their allies - the wicca, the slayers, their demon friends, and yes, even Andrew.
"I've been using Willow's trick to keep an eye on Angel. He's getting close to coming home." Faith offered.
The group thought about where Angel was and the war ahead.
Giles offered his thoughts. "It's hard to find peace when there's always work to do. I tried to numb myself from it. All I managed to do was backslide into my Ripper days. Reveling in the pain is not the answer." He looked at the assembled group. "We're going to have to be honest about the toll this work takes if we are to succeed."
Each of the demon fighters thought for a moment.
"Are we ready to fight the demon wars?" Giles asked the group.
"Always." Xander was resolute.
Dawn nodded. "Always."
Willow glanced at her friends and agreed. "Always."
Faith smiled broadly. "Hell, yeah."
A dark haired woman stood before Angel with a broad smile and a gleam in her eye. The rolling snowy clouds drifted behind her.
"Drusilla." Angel spoke quietly, curious about the woman before him. What is she like with a soul?
"Naughty boy." She admonished him. "You've still got work to do to earn that shininess in your heart." Her hand caressed his chest.
She whirled around and laughed. "Some of us just asked pretty please. Then the big skulking bunny leads us to his rabbit hole." She grimaced scornfully at the rolling hills.
"Dru-" Angel had so many questions.
She silenced him by placing one finger on his lips. Then she backed away and crooked that finger to lead him further down into the valley of fluffy hills.
He listened to her babbling as they strolled along the hazy streams among the trees. He heard her mention: "I got gypped out of a doggie. All the others got one. Demon rabbit says this girl lost hers before she drank the blood. Ain't never gonna get it back, he said."
Angel stopped her. "Drusilla, where are we going?"
She ignored him, still ranting. "You know where my shininess went? Only you know. Angelus, you took it even before you took my blood." She placed a hand on the place his heart would have been. Her eyes were pleading with him.
The clouds drifted away as the sky darkened again. He looked down to see her clothes change. Cobblestones grew out from beneath her feet. A black suit and white collar wrapped around him.
They were back in London in the 1800s. She was still human. It was dark as he walked her home.
No. This was how I drove her insane. They stared at each other.
She touched a finger seductively along his priest's collar. "My daddy never came home from his travels abroad. My mummy cried. The visions, they were all I had. And you, father." She smiled sinisterly into his eyes.
She had taken comfort in the church. She had hoped for some sort of peace from the visions and the pain of her home life. Instead he had reveled in her pain.
Suddenly, Drusilla dropped to her knees, pleading with him. "This girl wants no more pain. The Queen of Hearts is so cruel. The death, the blood. I only wanted love, and instead I took away their love."
Angel stumbled back in horror. She is here, and yet there is no peace for her. She feels guilt. I took away the only thing that could have helped here. Her sanity.
He crouched down beside her and took her face in his hands, hoping to provide some comfort. It was no use. Drusilla sobbed in his arms.
I have to help her. But how?
He kissed her brow. His eyes travelled down her face. Eternity like this. She doesn't deserve it. I did this to her.
Her eyes met his and begged him for relief.
His eyes travelled down her neck. I can take away the pain. His fangs grew. He could smell her blood pulsing.
A rush of sound was followed by a sharp blow to his ribs. Angel turned on his back and looked up into the face of Spike.
"That sort of selflessness is not what it's cracked up to be, mate." Spike offered a hand up to them.
The scene had shifted back. They were back on the clouds. Drusilla regained control of her crying. They watched her drift away behind a fluffy set of trees.
"There's nothing we can do for her, Angel." Spike explained. "Wish there was, but there isn't. C'mon."
Angel was quiet as he shook off the sensation. He turned to follow Spike down the path into a small town.
"If you don't mind, we have to work to do," Spike said over his shoulder, "and there's a certain slayer I'd like to get back to."
As they emerged from the trees, the day had turned to evening. They were in one of Sunnydale's many cemeteries.
Angel stopped. "Wait. Why is there a cemetery here?"
Spike laughed. "I know. Right? Makes no sense." He nodded down the sidewalk, urging Angel further on.
"Shouldn't you be back on Earth, Angel?" Spike couldn't resist a jab at his former friend. "I mean, you are the one and only last ensouled vampire. Doesn't the world need saving from Nazis and utopian goddesses and wife-beaters and movie producers and underground mixed martial art matches?" He snorted. There was a touch of resentment in Spike's tone.
"I don't know, Spike." He sighed. "I'm supposed to bring you back." Angel stopped to pull something from within his trench coat. It was the red scythe.
Spike stared resentfully at the weapon.
"Look, all I've been doing since I got here is to revisit all my crimes." Angel was getting tired of this. "That demon at the gate made a joke that I would have to confront all the vampires I've turned. And that seems to be what I'm doing anyway. Is there any end to this?"
Spike grinned. "Now you're getting it. All those years you wasted, Captain Broodypants, on atonement. You'll never get it. I'll never get it. Just do what you can and try to find some sort of peace in this life."
Angel challenged him by raising the scythe higher. "There's no such thing, Spike."
Spike backed away, his hands up. "Yeah there is. See those houses down that street?" His thumb pointed backward. "There's a girl down there trying to fry a blooming onion just for me, mate."
Angel snorted and advanced on him. "C'mon, Spike. The sooner you take this, the sooner I get back. You know you have to."
"No I don't." Spike skipped backward out of range.
This started a merry chase around the cemetery in which Angel tried to give Spike the scythe. Spike ducked behind mausoleums and tombstones, and Angel reached out for a handful of Spike's coat.
Finally, Angel had him backed up against the Alpert crypt, trying to pry Spike's hand open to take the scythe.
"Hold on." Spike stopped Angel. "This is ridiculous."
Angel stepped back, irritated with himself for getting into a tussle with Spike again.
"Let's just get this over with." Spike rolled his eyes.
The cemetary scene behind him drifted away. It filled in with a 19th Century English drawing room. Spike's hair turned longer and sandy blonde. Angel felt his hair grow longer. They looked down as their clothes were replaced with waistcoats and trousers.
"This wasn't a bad look for us, mate." Spike said.
Angel snorted. "I'm not here to talk fashion, Spike."
"Oh, yeah, right." Spike turned as Drusilla and Darla drifted in.
Spike was drawn to Drusilla, his eyes salivating at her. It was the early days of him becoming a vampire, and he was a collection of barely controlled desires. Spike gripped her close and dragged his fangs across her neck.
"You were a predator." Angel observed. "You had something to prove."
Spike's eyes flicked back to Angel's as he nodded in agreement. He stopped short of devouring her and said, "I was no ponce. She found me exhilarating. Every kill was a rush."
Angel sat down on the settee and glanced at Darla. He was the picture of indifference. This sparked something in her as she drifted to him and offered her décolletage.
The scene froze. Angel thought for a moment. "I knew I could have anything I wanted. I had been the spoiled son of a landowner back in Ireland. My father said I'd never make an impact on this world. I proved him wrong by destroying people. Every kill was power."
The two stepped away from their paramours and stared at their still forms in the drawing room.
Spike offered, "I wanted so much to keep her."
"And I tortured you for it."
Spike nodded.
Angel added. "All I wanted was to amount to something, good or bad. When Whistler brought me to Buffy, she was the catalyst for what followed."
Spike nodded again. "All I wanted was love, and she was the catalyst for understanding what love really is."
The scene drifted away, and they were back in the cemetery.
Angel turned to him. "So, who are you now, Spike?"
"I know I'm not you, Angel. I'm capable of change." Spike contemplated things for a moment. "What kind of vampire are you now, Angel?"
"I've been a vampire that does things to the extreme. Now that I have a soul, I feel shame to an extreme."
"Time to move, on, mate."
Angel replied quietly. "I think I finally have."
Spike looked across the street at the row of Sunnydale houses. "So, where do we go from here?"
"Where do you want to go?"
Spike sighed, lit a cigarette, and then blew out sharply. "You know, Angel."
Angel looked perplexed.
Spike rolled his eyes and muttered in embarrassment. "I want to save the world."
"Ok, Spike." Angel offered him the scythe. "Let's get to work."
Spike walked up the familiar front porch stairs. He paused at the door, marveling at the girl who had invited him in all those years ago.
He shifted the scythe to his other hand as he reached for the door handle. Once inside, he turned to the kitchen where Buffy offered him a beer.
"That's dinner. Don't ask," she said as she kissed him gently.
The scythe dropped as he leaned into her. Forget Christmas and puppies. They can save themselves.
She stepped back as she spied the weapon. A look passed over her face. It's time, she thought.
He looked down at the scythe stuck blade-first in the floor. He glanced back at her. A small smile drifted across her face.
"Remember what I told you, Spike? Sometimes being a slayer means losing everyone you love."
Spike nodded. "I thought you were referring to your own bad self."
"I meant both of us, Spike." She held his chin.
She continued. "But, being a powerful slayer means relying on your friends. And giving a crap about others."
Spike snorted. He was never much good at that.
"You never used to care about anything but me. Maybe you're human now, after all. And a slayer."
The two leaned against the kitchen island side-by-side.
"Besides, there's no rest for the wicked." She turned to him, and they burst out laughing.
Wiping away a tear, she added, "But, seriously, folks. There's no rest until you're really dead."
Spike nodded again. "Yeah, I better go. Xander keeps telling me about some demony thing. I better help him before he pulls a muscle."
He took her hand one last time and snagged the scythe from the floor as he made his way back to the front door.
She stopped him short at the door and flicked her eyes to the living room where Cerberus layed dozing on the rug. Cujo's teeth were bared in a menacing grimace. Scooby's head was upside down, his long tongue lolling from his jaws.
"What about him?"
Spike watched the dogs. "Keep him," he said, "to remember me."
He turned back to her. "I don't need him anymore. All that rot's inside of me, anyway. I watched Willow tear herself in two. Maybe it's just best to accept it."
His hand was on the door handle as he turned to her again. "Besides, didn't someone once tell you that love can be your master, and if you're not careful, you'll just be its dog? I don't need to be love's bitch. I think I can be my own dog or, er, master now."
END