Buffy Big Brother - Week 2 - Day 7 (morning)

"He's coming around...and around...ooo, he'll have such a sore head, I shouldn't think, the poor lamby. Can Mummy kiss it all better?"

"No, Mummy can't."

Oz wondered at the voices, even as consciousness swam blearily in front of his eyes. His body felt odd. He had the strangest itches in the strangest places...and the strangest feeling that, despite what almost twenty years of experience had taught him, those itches were within his reach.

There was a hiss from somewhere in the great beyond above him. "Nasty girl," the first voice said, managing somehow to growl in a singsong voice. Belatedly he recognised it as Drusilla's.

"Back off," snarled the second voice. This was a Slayer's tone, solid as a rock, undeterred in the slightest by the threat from the vampire. It was, of course-

"Willow?" Oz managed, and then wished he hadn't. His head was throbbing painfully. Had this been a cartoon, he would have fully expected little men with disconcertingly enormous mallets to be bashing him around the skull with gay abandon. Nonetheless, he had been right - astoundingly, that steely voice belonged to none other than Willow.

"Sssh," she said, and Oz's eyes finally managed to bring the world into focus around her.

"As a cure for hangovers," he said weakly, "you don't suck."

Willow bit her lip. "Oz-" she began, but it was too late. Oz's had already tried to stir from where he lay, and had run into the most obvious obstacle.

"Oh. Chains," he noted, "well, that was unexpected." His head moved to take in the whole scene. "Chains...and I'm in Drusilla's room. I'm chained to Drusilla's bed, and my body hurts all over."

"It's not what you think," Willow said.

"Really?"

"Oh, no way - you're a werewolf!" Willow said, in a that's all jollytone.

There was a moment of silence as Oz absorbed this. "Well," he said slowly, thinking of the weird compulsion to scratch out-of-reach places, "that would explain the urges..."

Drusilla cackled gleefully and clapped her hands together. Willow blushed. Oz was about to clarify that statement when Spike wheeled in from outside the room. From his expression, he'd been eavesdropping.

"Get the mutt out of here," he said. "This room stinks enough as it is."

Willow began untying Oz. As soon as his hand had enough movement, he closed it around her arm.

She flinched.

"I'm sorry, Will," he said softly.

"You didn't know."

"Did I hurt any-"

"No," she replied, and he knew she was hiding something. "Buffy stopped you."

"Stopped me? Stopped me from what?"

"It doesn't matter, OK? Let's just get you out of this room. I don't even want to know what that thing is for."

"That's my naughty bad girl seat."

"Thank you, Drusilla."

"When I've been bad I sits on it and spins round and round and-"

"Thank you," Willow repeated, looking ill. She untied the last of Oz's bonds. He sat up on the bed, their eyes meeting. She glanced away, to his obvious disappointment.

Off to one side, Spike rolled his eyes.

"Willow, I can't remember anything. If I hurt you - if I tried to, I-"

"It's fine, Oz."

"Willow-"

"Oh for the love of God!" Spike exclaimed, startling everyone in the room. "I can't take any bloody more of this. Red, anything a werewolf does has nothing to do with their human side. He'd have attacked his dear old Mum last night and ripped her limb from limb, never mind you, so stop sodding moping. Oz, she likes you. Whooppee. Now if you don't mind, I'd like to get into my room before the sun bloody rises and turns my just-about-on-the-verge-of-bloody-vomiting-vampire body to bloody, sodding, oh God I hate humans dust. OK?!"

Another moment's silence greeted the conclusion to this rant.

"Someone's going on the naughty chair..."

"Shut up, Dru!"

Buffy Big Brother - Week 2 - Day 7 (morning)

Xander was having his own awakening. They'd been up well into last night with the various goings-on; hence his eyes ungluing themselves from their eyelids reluctantly. He'd fallen asleep, eventually, spreadeagled over the largest sofa. Not that he would have admitted it of course but the thought of going back to the boys bedroom had not appealed - Giles was missing, presumed God knew what and Angelus was similarly gone (and how they wanted to presume him dead, but knew better). At least last week he'd only had to deal with waking up to the Master eyeing his neck like a dog would a pork chop.

Voices came from Spike and Dru's room. Oz was up, he guessed. He'd been there last night when they'd strapped him in. Drusilla's sharp blow had sufficed only to stun him momentarily, barely long enough for them to strap him in (he shivered - despite the prodigious size of his porno collection outside this house, he never wanted to see what the Big Brother cameras had recorded inside that room). Oz - the werewolf Oz - had struggled mightily against his bonds. Kendra had been on hand to stun him again when required. He'd expected Buffy to do it, but Buff-

Seconds later he was at the door of the Diary Room, his heart thundering in his chest. Two people had gone in there and not come back out. If Buffy had followed suit, they were all up a certain creek without a certain instrument.

No. She was there, squatting down on the floor, her back against the wall. Her eyes flitted to him as he stood there, but otherwise the vacancy of her expression chilled him.

"Buffy," he said, still exhaling, "for a minute there I thought you'd gone and Marie Celeste'd us too."

She grunted. It was an odd sound. "Been here all night."

"Hey, I know Cordelia might snore a...actually I don't know," he amended quickly, lest she get the wrong idea, "but throwing down here can't have been comfortable..."

"Comfortable?" she echoed bitterly. "You think I actually tried to sleep?"

Ouch. He'd walked into that one. Xander squatted down to his hunches, and realised for the first time since he'd opened the door what state his friend was in. Buffy looked like she'd stepped off the set of a George A. Romero flick. She hadn't been kidding about the sleep thing.

He reached out, laid his hand on her arm. She still refused to remove her gaze from the mirror - or rather, Xander noted with puzzlement, where the mirror had previously hung. It was gone now.

"Buffy, we'll figure this out."

"He's gone. They're both gone, Xander. How could I have let this happen? He's my Watcher."

"He's a grown man," Xander reminded her. "If he went through here, through this mysterious portal of yours - which we're not even sure he did - then he knew the risks he was taking. I mean, c'mon; this is Giles we're talking about here. The guy had elbow patches on his romper suit. The last rash thought he had was...well, probably when he was in that suit, and even that was down to the tweed diaphers."

Success. A tiny smile, a grinlet, tugged at the corner of her mouth. It faded a second later. "Angelus..." she said, "he's done something. If not to Giles, then at least to Jenny. I know it."

Xander stiffened at the mention of the name. Buffy saw it. "If that's true, then it just makes what you have to do easier."

"You think so?"

"I think so."

"I loved him."

He was speechless. Though he'd known it, known it at some level for quite some time now, he'd skirted mentally around it. It was astonishing how raw the pain was, how much he hated that bastard Angel. But now, now it was beyond jealousy; her eyes, so full of hurt and betrayal, made Xander vow that if he ever got the chance, there'd be one more puff of dust and one more rapidly decomposing skeleton in the world.

"You loved Angel," he said, finding it incredibly hard to even say the words. "This isn't Angel we're dealing with."

"You think so?"

"Dammit, Buffy!" he said, suddenly red-faced and angry. "Of course I don't think so, and you know it."

She looked at him, really looked at him, for the first time. "I'm sorry. What makes it hard, Xander, what makes it so damn hard...is that you're right. But not how you think. I can't explain it. I didn't fall in love with a murderer. I fell in love with a good man. And that good man..." she trembled a little, "...he's still in there. But now he's a part of the whole thing, the complete monster. He knows me, Xander. He's able to get inside me because...because he was."

"Darn tootin' I was - and I don't mean to put myself down...but the words 'pencil' and 'cave' would definitely be appropriate. Wouldn't ya say, champ?"

Xander expected this to push Buffy, already teetering on the brink of tears, over the edge. He felt his own stomach turn to ice, his teeth grit, his hands ball into fists, ready to leap to Buffy's-

"Go bleep yourself, Angelus," Buffy said pleasantly.

-defence.

Buffy blinked, surprised. "What the bleep?" she said. "I can't say bleep?"

"Apparently bleeping not," Angelus' voice sounded again over the Big Brother link. "Yet another interesting facet of the Sanctuary spell surrounding your jolly little household. Man, that was really getting old, don't you think? Now, THIS place is much better. Wish I had a little more company to share it with."

Buffy smiled thinly. "Send me a portal and I'll grant that wish."

"Hmm...it's tempting, but not yet, slugger. Not just yet. You know what they say about company and crowds...both of us are quite happy over here."

The determined set to Buffy's jaw started to slip. "I'm going to k-"

"Housemates, this is Big Brother," Angelus continued breezily as if the Slayer hadn't spoken. From the echoes, and from the gasp he heard from outside, Xander guessed that this announcement was being broadcast to the entire house. "Your task for this week - a guessing game. Guess who I'm torturing. The good news is - because I killed one of them, you've got a fifty-fifty chance of getting it right; Giles, or Jenny?

Xander gasped. Buffy's eyes shone with tears.

"Now for the boring bit - the rules. If you get it wrong, I kill...oops, almost gave it away...I kill whoever it is I'm now skewering with a blunt object. If you get it right...well done you! You've earned them a few more hours pain."

Buffy staggered unsteadily out of the Diary Room. Still stunned by what he was hearing, Xander took a second to register her absence before moving to follow her. Willow and Oz were there, Oz holding Willow as she wept quietly, bitterly onto his shoulder. Cordelia and Kendra were there too. Xander's eyes met Cordelia's for a second. He was gratified by what he saw there; gone, temporarily at least, was the vacuous popularity-monger, replaced by someone who stepped forward to support Buffy as she stumbled once again.

Spike was silent.

Drusilla was enraptured with joy.

"I suppose you need a spokesperson...mmm, who better than the Chosen One. She looks up for this sort of responsibility, doesn't she?"

Their eyes, as one, moved to Buffy.

"It's Giles. You're torturing Giles."

Silence met her. Xander felt sure the sound of his heartbeat had prevented Buffy's words from reaching the hidden microphones.

"Swing and a hit for the Slayer. Giles it is. Jenny would like to have participated, but what with her neck being kindling, she's finding it hard. As for dear old Giles...well I'm sure he'd love to thank you, but he's busy at the moment."

There was a noise, and a muffled screaming.

"Oh, that reminds me. Could Drusilla come to the Diary Room? And please, housemates, for the sake of your old buddy Giles, let her go alone. I really don't want to have him clutter up the place like his dead girlfriend before I'm good and ready. Big Brother...out."

Deathly quiet followed, each person there - with the exception of Dru, already heading for the Diary Room door in delight - alone with their own grief and shock.

"Incidentally," Angelus' voice came again, "isn't it just so weird hearing your own voice on tape like this...?"

Buffy Big Brother - Week 2 - Day 7 (morning)

"Drusilla!"

"Yes, Spike?" she turned, even as his arms strained from trying to keep up with this damn wheelchair. She was practically inside the Diary Room already, her cheeks flushed with excitement. Well, alright. Maybe not. But had she been alive, Spike was sulkily sure, they probably would have been.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"Daddy wants us, Spike. He called. He's got that horrible book man and we're going to have such fun with him. Didn't you hear? It was glorious. Look at them," she nodded her head, and Spike glanced back at the emotionally decimated Scoobies, "they're proper afraid of us again, like it should be."

To Spike's eyes, they didn't look particularly terrified. He watched as the Slayer and the redhead began intense, low conversation. "Whatever luv," he said dismissively. "But if you're going in there, you're not going alone."

Drusilla purred seductively, leaning down and running her hand over his face. "My protector," she cooed, staring into his eyes, "come on then. Come with Mummy."

"Stop bloody saying that!"

The Diary Room was empty. Spike rolled his chair forward...and found himself with a problem. With Drusilla inside, there simply wasn't room for him to join her. She flapped her arms in sudden alarm, making that low moaning noise she specialised in to show her discontent at this.

"Relax," he assured her, holding the door open and jamming the chair against it like a doorstop, "I'll be right here."

"Drusilla?"

"I'm here."

"We both are," Spike added, with as much menace as he could muster.

"Spike. Good to hear from you. I was just thinking I could use an extra hand to cripple the opposition."

Spike muttered something. There were a series of soft bleeps from his direction. He'd never realised it when they rampaged through Europe together with Darla in tow, but Angelus was a royal pain in the arse. Spike knew now why vampires found it so hard to form any sort of coherent common group.

"I need help with the librarian. He knows how to run this entire operation - his little informer bitch told him in those chats they had. This won't hurt a bit..."

With that, the mini-portal opened.

Spike's eyes widened as the gravity well took hold. "Oh, shitttttttt..."

Buffy waited until Drusilla and Spike had ran and wheeled to a reasonably safe distance. Then, with a few economical movements, she clamped her hands around Xander and Willow's wrists and forced them into what she hoped would be an innocent-looking huddle.

"I'm done with crying," she said simply. "Jenny's dead, Angelus has Giles, and we're stranded here with nothing to fight and a Sanctuary spell up our ass. Comments?"

"If he can make broadcasts," Willow replied instantly, "then he might have control over the portals too."

Xander jumped slightly, veering away from the entrance circle which he'd been standing perilously close to. "I'm not real big on being sent through that thing," he said.

"I don't think he can control that one," Buffy mused. "If he could, he would have used it by now."

("Hey," Oz said, raising a hand in greeting.

"Hello," Kendra replied, a trifle awkwardly.)

"And risk those two getting sucked in?" Willow said, inclining her head in the direction of Spike and Dru, who by now had reached the Diary Room door. Buffy glanced over at Spike. They eyeballed each other for a second across the room.

"I don't think Angelus could care less about them."

("That's a nice stake," Oz offered.

Kendra bowed slightly, obviously trying to think of some compliment to offer in return.

"You have...a very glossy coat."

"Thanks.")

"He's torturing Giles for the information," Xander guessed. "That's the reason he's being kept alive. Apart from the whole sadistic revenge thing on you, Buff."

"How would Giles k..." Willow began, and then trailed off as the answer came to her. "Oh. Jenny."

"Jenny," Buffy confirmed. Something was tickling at the back of her mind, though, trying to grab her attention. Something about Jenny and something she'd said yesterday in that other Big Brother house...about job security, was that it? "We need to get through a portal," she stated. "If Angelus won't, or can't, open one for us, then we have to do it ourselves somehow."

Willow snorted. "Oh sure. I don't think one's going to drop...into...our...lap..."

The reason for this loss of concentration was not her usual ditziness, but the fact that, somewhere between going and drop, a tearing noise had resounded throughout the living area. Sudden wind whipped their hair. By the time Willow got to into our, they could see the portal for themselves, bursting into life through the open door of the Diary Room. And by the time she'd belatedly completed her sentence, Buffy was flat out sprinting for the entrance, with Kendra a half-pace behind her.

You arrogant bastard, Buffy thought, as her legs ate up the short distance between her and that gaping maw. I'm coming for you. I'll make you pay for every soul you've taken, every life you've destroyed. And especially for that 'pencil-cave' remark.

The portal was already beginning to close. Buffy, seeing this, allowed her feet to press into the floor as she ran. Her body catapulted through the air in a full-length plunging dive, a guided Slayer-missile going straight for the heart of the crimson maelstrom agonisingly close before her. Buffy braced herself for the displacement of the dimensional shift, vowing to be alert and ready to take on whatever she found on the other side.

What she didn't brace herself for, however, was hitting a solid concrete wall.

The portal had gone.

Spike, however, had not.

"Ooooooooooooooooooooofffffffffbollocks!"

Buffy Big Brother - Week 2 - Day 7 (afternoon)

It wasn't until you'd experienced the feeling of needle-sharp shards of glass protruding from your arms and chest that you could really comment on it. Giles lolled in his chair slightly, aware he was losing blood and along with it a good portion of his sanity. Angelus had ripped this house's Diary Room chair from its standings and brought it to the centre of the living area, where he'd assembled (in disturbingly quick time) a makeshift torturing arrangement, into which Giles had been placed...how many hours ago? Or was it a day ago?

Giles let a small moan escape his lips. The vampire had left him alone for the past few minutes, long enough for the pain to assume some sort of rhythmical agony that he could deal with. It was likely Angelus would keep him alive for as long as he could, if only for the sheer joy of it. The only other alternative was that his patience would give way and he would snap Giles' neck in a backhanded gesture of mercy.

Or...Giles gagged...that he would get hungry again. He had watched, been forced to watch, as Angelus extracted his food from the dead body of Jenny. How beautiful she had been. He had never suspected, never dared hope, that the comforting voice that had so allured him over the past few days could be the property of a woman so lovely.

He wondered what she had looked like with a white neck.

"Giles?"

Big, leisurely tears rolled slowly down his face. He found the strength to be amazed that crying could hurt so. Never again would he hear that call of his name. He'd never know what it was like to have her touch, caress his face, kiss away these tears, smell her delicate skin as she held his head in her hands, her face contorted in love and grief.

He inhaled. Elderberries.

"Giles," she said again.

A drop of his blood, from one of his many cuts, dripped onto her finger. He watched it land there, and realised that figments of his fevered, desperate imagination wouldn't be able to do that.

"J-Jenny...?" he breathed, unable to contain his joy.

She smiled. "You found me."

"No," he shook his head, and promptly almost passed out from the shockwaves of pain this action sent rippling through his spine. "No...you were...you're dead, Jenny. I'm sorry."

"Big Brother," she smiled, "it brought me back. Against the rules for me to die. I don't understand it any more than you do, but it doesn't matter. We can be together, Giles. That's all I want."

Giles nodded limply, unable to express his happiness. His eyes bulged. "Angelus," he rasped, "he'll come back...you have to get to the control room."

Jenny's beautiful eyes widened in alarm. "I don't have those memories," she said. "They didn't come back, Giles. What must I do? Tell me."

Giles felt consciousness slipping away from him. He forced his mind to focus, wondering why the whole room was spinning so violently with the sole exception of Jenny's eyes, static and yet immeasurably chaotic. "Wait for...wait for the eviction protocol to begin," he croaked. "When it does, the panel's configuration will...change. The override is...bottom-left corner. Marked with an omega symbol."

Exhausted by this prolonged speech, he sagged forward against his bonds, the shards of glass cutting into him again. Giles lacked the energy to cry out as he wanted to. He felt his chin being lifted by Jenny's elegant, manicured black-nailed fingers until her mouth brushed his. Their lips locked in a long, passionate kiss.

"Um...?" Angelus coughed.

Drusilla broke the kiss, looking sheepish. Giles' head, still lolling, took in the new scene with the mask of Drusilla's hypnotic glare now absent. A strangled, heartbroken cry escaped his lips, before his head slumped forward onto his chest.

"You always were a good kisser," Angelus smiled.

Dru giggled. "He tasted like figs."

"Taste him all you want," Angelus waved a hand airily. "Don't kill him just yet. We've got a few hours, I'd say, before this eviction thing begins. Plenty of time for fun before then."

As if unable to wait even a second longer, Dru allowed her features to morph into her vampiric countenance, her true face. She hissed in pleasure and bent her head to Giles neck.

She paused.

Angelus sighed. "What is it, Dru?"

She had the decency to look embarrassed. "It doesn't seem right without him," she said mournfully.

Angelus scowled darkly. "There's a reason I shut him out, you realise that? He's deadweight, Dru. You can't be a crippled vampire and be anything but. You can see him stalking his victims - shit, could ya hold on while I climb onto this stairlift?"

Drusilla wailed. It was always a disconcerting experience, seeing this terrifically powerful creature of the night flap her arms and throw a tantrum.

"All right!"

It was also extremely effective, as evidenced by the fact that moments later, an announcement rang out over the more populated Big Brother house: "Spike, get your sorry British ass to the Diary Room. NOW."

Buffy Big Brother - Week 2 - Day 7 (afternoon)

Though it pained him to admit it, progress had its merits. He suspected he'd always hold a candle (well, a lit flame at any rate) for the old torturing methods; the thumbscrew, now, there was a classic. Of course having a brief stay on the receiving end in the Tower of London had been an education. And if you had to pin him down, he'd always go for the "one man, four ropes, four fast horses" final punch.

But even old Torquemada himself (who, as he never tired of reminding himself with a smile, had been 100 human...if that word could be used) would have given someone's left leg for the capabilities at his fingertips now. Angelus regarded the control room and tried to stop himself from salivating; a whole house full of rats, and in his possession were the keys to the maze.

Unfortunately, the locks were proving tricky. Reams of buttons and controls, some of which he was certain did delightful things like 'drain oxygen' 'release killer bees' 'loop Sarah McLachlan', but all of them with inscriptions written in obscure code. Only Jenny could operate them, but some careless, incredibly handsome fool (he tutted rebukedly at himself) had gone and played her neck like a xylophone.

Well, alright, a broken one.

Still, there was one feature that, for whatever reason Big Brother had seen fit, was unambiguous in the extreme. Located directly under the monitor output for the Diary Room, it was huge and red and distinctly labelled in plain English with 'PORTAL'. It was downright insulting, and not a little bit suspicious. But what the hell? Big Brother, whatever it was, would get what was coming to it eventually.

Angelus watched as Spike rolled, deliberately slowly to his eyes, to the Diary Room entrance. Thankfully the broadcasting options were equally simple. He flicked the appropriate switch.

"Gonna have to get you some oil for those wheels, bud," he broadcast, knowing full well his words would carry to the whole house.

Spike flicked a finger in what he obviously hoped was the right direction to camera. Angelus scowled. He was right on the mark. Spike may have had the intellect of a stunned grapefruit since his second birth (and hell, if the poems were anything to go by, he was no Einstein before that), but his instincts had always been that tiny nuance better than Angelus' own. It was one of several reasons that Angelus would rather have left him with the humans...

"He's coming!" Drusilla cooed, appearing suddenly at his shoulder. Vampiric senses or no, Angelus had had not a single clue of her approach. He wondered sometimes at the extent of her powers.

She was another reason for the rivalry. And, like any woman in history, bloodsucking monster or not, she wanted Spike back in the fold because she adored flitting between the affections of her two admirers.

Not to put too fine a point on it, Angelus was hungry for more than blood...

Yeah, he's coming. Let him come. Let him come here, where there's no miserable spell to protect him, the weak fool, and I'll crush him at the first excuse and...he glanced at Drusilla, licking his lips slightly...fully reacquaint myself with everything I've been missing this past century.

There were tiny flickers of movement on the monitors below. Angelus, caught in the momentary flash of lust, never noticed a thing.

A thrumm of power vibrated through the control room. Angelus watched as the flare of the portal partially obscured his display of the Diary Room. No need for concern, though - the bedroom cams still showed dear old Buffy and the gang deep in discussion.

The vibration died away. Angelus threw the switch back to the off position. As he'd expected, the Diary Room was now empty.

"Loverboy's here," he grunted to Dru. She was already halfway out of the door to the control room. Angelus' scowl deepened. He caught sight of his reflection in the mirrored surface and forced his expression to relax back to a languid, cocky smile. Brooding was for the weakling.

Job done, his eyes focussed idly on the monitor screen before him.

"Well isn't that interesting," he said.

"Very," replied Buffy.

He turned, and there she was, standing in the doorway. "Champ!" he said warmly.

"Bitch," she returned cordially.

Angelus regarded the monitor screens again, more closely this time. "Oh no," he said, slapping his forehead, "don't tell me I fell for the old strategically-arranged-pillows trick."

Buffy took her right hand from behind her back. His eyes were drawn to the stake she held there, clutched so tightly.her fingers were white.

"Are we gonna fight," she said conversationally, "or are you just gonna talk? Because, believe me, I know you're not great on delaying tactics."

He merely laughed. "Tell you what - to make up for last time, when I kill you, I promise not be thinking of anyone else."

"It doesn't work, Angel...Angelus...whatever you like to be called now," she told him calmly. "You're not him. He's dead already."

"Gonna send me to join him?" he mocked her, pacing slowly and deliberately toward her and the entranceway she blocked.

"Nope," she shook her head, still maddeningly calm. "Gonna send you to Hell."

The stake flashed, and battle was joined.

Buffy Big Brother - Week 2 - Day 7 (afternoon)

"You want to what?"

Spike sighed. "Don't make me say it again, Slayer. One-time offer. Take it or leave it."

If Buffy's eyes had narrowed any more they'd have been in serious danger of imploding. "Oh, do please forgive me if I'm a little sceptical. William The Bloody, brutal mass murderer, wants to help a vampire slayer kill one of his oldest friends. Spike, even by your moronic standards this is lame."

"Fine," he snapped. "But I'm your only bloody hope of getting through that portal."

"We'll figure out a way w..." Buffy stopped, curious despite herself, "wait a minute - what makes you think you're likely to get one?"

Spike drew himself up as regally as he could. "Drusilla's gonna miss me and ask for one, isn't she."

Buffy absorbed this. "Right."

He scowled fiercely. "She may not be stable-"

"Stable? Spike, she makes plutonium seem rock-like."

"-she may not be," Spike continued, fighting to keep his rage down, "but I know her better than you think, you stupid bint. One hundred years together, you get to know someone. I'll be getting an invite. I'm willing to let you and your little nubian counterpart there-" he thumbed, indicating Kendra, currently standing guard over a chest of drawers, "-tag along for the ride. Won't be easy, but it will be possible."

"And once we're over, what? I dust Angel, what then?"

"We get our cardigans on and sing bloody koombay-yayas for all I care," Spike snapped. "Just leave Dru and I alone. We've not touched your precious Giles, or the other one..."

"Jenny," Buffy said hotly. "Her name was Jenny."

"Whatever." He fixed her with a disconcertingly calculating stare. Buffy wasn't accustomed to calm, collected Spike. She decided that she liked the old juggernaut-like approach better. This was plain unsettling.

"You hate him that much?" she asked.

"Yeah, because I'm sure you must find that so hard to believe."

Buffy glanced back at her friends, whose curious glances she and Spike had been attracting more and more during the entire length of their unlikely negotiation. Kendra watched the proceedings disapprovingly.

"I'll need a moment to discuss this with the others," she said, cautiously.

"Spike," the announcement came through barely after her sentence was complete,"get your sorry British ass to the Diary Room. NOW."

Spike grinned at her in that unsettling way again. "Better make it a quick one, hadn't you?"

----

And so the Slayers, moving in the sort of synchronisation only a supernatural fellowship could bestow, had stolen across the living area in flashes of quick movement behind Spike's wheelchair. When the portal opened and the initial flare had subsided, they were already two blurs of motion.

Honey, I'm home, Buffy thought, as the displacement claimed her.

----

Spike shook his head, as all the church bells in the world rang a symphony between his ears. He'd been through a few portals in his time, and had never cared for the experience one bit.

The Slayer - Buffy, he amended, since there were two of them in attendance - was already driving for the main hallway, the throughfare to the control room.

She encountered Drusilla almost right away. The two women froze, standing toe-to-toe with each other, locked in mutual hatred. Drusilla's head swayed like a python's, her teeth bared.

"Go," Kendra said. "I will deal with this one."

Drusilla's eyes flicked to the other Slayer. In that instant Buffy was gone. Spike, knowing better, knew that Dru could still have caught her as she flashed past, but she had accepted the challenge offered to her.

Kendra drew her stake. Spike had no argument with the ancient superstitions of warriors naming their weapons to give them a purpose and a soul of their own. He doubted, however, if when the annals of such weapons were recorded that "Mr Pointy" would strike fear into the hearts of those who heard its tales.

The vampire and the Slayer clashed once, twice, each testing the other's fighting style. He saw the joy in Drusilla's face as she was able to strike out at long last without that pesky spell neutering her every blow. Dru lashed out, sending Kendra reeling. To give the girl credit, though, she proved her lineage once again by somehow regaining balance and pivoting on the balls of her feet, delivering a sharp kick to Dru's midriff.

Kendra had promised, right along with Buffy, that Drusilla would be spared from attack.

Dru swept the floor with her trailing leg. She had none of the finesse of her opponent when it came to kicks and punches, but over a century of fighting experience and the added benefit of an insanely devious mind. Kendra toppled, and Drusilla was on her in a flash, vamp face engaged and teeth baring down-

Lies, of course. He'd expected nothing less.

Kendra twisted and turned her way to gain an inch of purchase on her assailant's arms. That inch, combined with a fearsome explosion of Slayer strength, was enough to deflect Drusilla's attack and roll her over completely onto her back. She hissed, enraged, and flailed out with her long nails, a seemingly desperate response but one that was also devastatingly accurate. Kendra cried out and clutched at her forehead, suddenly gashed and leaking blood. She retreated, wiping furiously at her left eye, trying to keep it free from blockage.

Still. Made them more interesting, deception. Erased a little more of the angel and inked in the demon that one degree blacker. They were amateurs.

Dru advanced. Kendra backed off. Sensing the momentum was with her, the vampire struck, sending a feint to the right before moving in for a truly vicious sidehand to the left cheek.

I'm really going to enjoy this.

The blow never landed.

Kendra's face trembled with effort, her hand pinning Drusilla's arm where she had anticipated and intercepted her attack. Mr Pointy rose, unchallenged, about to write the first chapter in its history.

She brought her arm down. Fully two inches.

"Sorry, pet," Spike apologised, standing tall behind her, his chair discarded and forgotten by the wayside.

Kendra's eyes widened. A scream of Buffy rose from her. It got no further.

Drusilla's fingers slashed across her throat. Kendra felt her voice croak oddly, her breath die. As her knees crumpled from beneath her, Spike released her hand, allowing her to clamp it, minus stake, to the torrent of wetness rushing down her neck. She died, quietly, collapsed at the feet of Spike and Drusilla.

"I got her, Spike! I got her!" Drusilla shrilled in ecstasy.

"You did, luv," Spike replied, and laid her out cold with one punch.

Buffy Big Brother - Week 2 - Day 7 (evening)

"Isn't this healthy? Working out our relationship differences all out in the open like this? No bottling up...that just leads to uncomfortable confrontations-"
Angel had to duck at that point to avoid a roundhouse punch from Buffy that likely would have torn his head from his shoulders. He slid backwards along the floor of the Control Room, grabbing the frame of the entranceway and pivoting around to finish at his feet in the hallway. This done, he made a small ta-da movement with his hands.
"I love arguing," he grinned.
"Then you'll love this," Buffy replied, launching herself at her former lover. Expecting her to be more cautious, Angelus was caught off-guard as she ploughed into his chest feet first, propelling him backward into the opposing wall. He fell heavily, coughing and seeing stars as she leapt nimbly to her feet, stake clamped in her grasp. Her killing blow, however, was stopped by a lightning-fast interception. Their hands, locked together, shook with the battle of wills.
Angelus laughed, his voice slightly strained with the effort. "You're stronger than this, Slayer. What's wrong? Just not ready to dust your boyfriend yet?"
Her foot lashed out, but he was ready for it. He dodged the blow, and with her momentarily off-balance, was able to crush her fingers painfully until the stake clattered to the ground. Grasping her by the shoulders, he ran with her until she was sandwiched into the wall. His body pressed against hers, just like it used to, and it was
He was aroused. She could feel it. He saw the realisation in her eyes.
"The thought of killing you," he hissed into her ear, even as he attempted to crush her further, "does more for me than making love to you ever did."
Someone struck a match inside Buffy's mind. Her vision narrowed, until all she saw was his leering face, all she heard were his mocking words. Everything was crystal-clear to her, all of her complex Slayer training, every nuance of the highly-attuned combat reflexes she'd developed.
She used precisely none of them, and brought her knee up.
"Gnnnnoooooough," Angelus wheezed. At another time, in another universe, Buffy might have found his expression comical. Not here and not now. His grip relaxed as she'd known it would and she used the respite to free herself from his weight. He rocked on his heels. "Can't believe I fell for that one again..."
She kicked him through the wall.
"Believe it," she said.
Stepping through the Angelus-shaped hole she'd just made, she gasped. The question of where Giles was being held had just been answered. He sat, neither bound nor gagged. There was no need. Giles was obviously out of it, his head resting nervelessly on his chest, random words escaping his lips. Blood trickled from several wounds across his exposed chest and shoulders.
Angelus' fist smashed into her mouth, his attack coming from the side while she'd been taking in the sight of Giles. Buffy tasted blood and floor, sent sprawling by the power behind the punch. Above her, Angelus smiled grimly and paused for a fraction of a second to readjust himself. One more injury to those parts and he was going to be as much of a eunuch as the weakling.
She swept his feet from under him as he approached. Before he'd done crashing to the ground, she was already upon him, straddling his chest and slamming down with her fists, over and over and over. Tears threatened to blind her. She suppressed them, settling instead for hurling down abuse, obscenities on the monster beneath her.

Angelus simply sat up, grabbing her fists in his own. He kissed her full on the lips and felt her strength falter.
Idiot, he thought, and smashed his forehead into her face.
----
Spike laid Drusilla down gently. Another Slayer down; that made two direct kills and an assist. He was probably the greatest Slayer-killer of all time. Surprisingly, at the moment the achievement meant nothing to him. The idiots had thought him crippled by that silly accident. Sure enough, it had bloody hurt at the time, but Spike had no more needed a wheelchair than he had braces.
And while everyone plotted and obsessed about their miserable little lives and problems, everyone seemed to forget about poor old Spike, wasn't he comical looking now making his little chicken wings?
He didn't care anymore. Sure, if he could have figured out how to bring down the Sanctuary spell on the other house, he'd be over there in half a second to wring every one of their scrawny American pop-cultured necks. That wasn't likely though, and frankly, if killing them would save them from a further five weeks in this madness, he'd be doing them a bloody favour.
Down the hallway, the Buffy and Angelus show raged. Spike winced as the Slayer delivered the old knee-trembler, beloved by women across the globe whether they were the Chosen One or not.
Spike sighed. He'd killed two Slayers and allowed another one to die, and it had all been fun. Which just made all of this, all he was about to do, all the harder.
----
Angelus face was covered in blood. Not all of it was his. He covered a finger in it and sucked it dry anyway, savouring the taste as he approached the recumbent figure of Buffy, doubled over in pain and trying vainly to clear her head.
So this was how it was going to end. She would die on her back, her pretty little face a matted mess of tears and blood, her Watcher a gibbering psychological wreck only yards away. Not bad for two days work, he thought, placing a foot on her stomach and preparing to strike. All I need now is a final line. 'Consider this a divorce'? 'Give my regards to Jenny'?
"No wonder she's out of it. Hit by that forehead? I'm only surprised she's not already dead."
Angelus blinked in surprise, thrown off-balance a little. "Spike?"
"I know," Spike nodded in acceptance, wheeling himself forward into the room from its main entrance, "you'd forgotten about me."
"I'm kinda busy here," Angelus countered impatiently. "But I promise, I'll be with you in a minute."
"Yeah," Spike replied softly, "I bet you will."
Beneath Angelus' foot, Buffy began to stir. Seeing this, and figuring that in a few seconds he was going to have to deal with one extremely pissed-off Slayer, Angelus decided he would have to skip last-word niceities and just kill the bitch. Ah well. Goodbye, Buffy...he thought, curling his fist into a ball and bringing it down into her chest, feeling her skin part, hearing her bones crack, watching as blood fountained from her and laughing as she gave her final, agonised convulsions before the life left her and she lay still and spent beneath him, just as she'd done the night she had set him free.
Well...that was the plan.
What actually happened was this. Angelus' fist descended, and was caught mid-blow. Not just by Spike's hand, Spike the cripple, Spike the wheelchair-bound, Spike the vampire, but by the rising hand of the Slayer herself, her eyes bloodshot and wide and as terrifying a sight of pure rage as he had ever seen.
All three of them remained locked in place for that one heartbeat, that one moment. Just long enough for the fourth person to strike Angelus so hard that he flew across the room, his head crashing against the wall, his unconscious body sliding down after it a moment later.
"Bastard," hissed Giles, and collapsed.

Buffy Big Brother - Week 2 - Day 7 (Evening)

The remaining housemates Willow, Oz, Cordelia and Xander were all gathered in the Girls Bedroom trying in vain to think of something that would help their friends in the alternate Big Brother House. They had never felt so helpless and all their ideas were being thrown back into the metaphorical water. As the portal could only be activated, (as far as they knew), by Big Brother or from the other house they were unable to back Buffy, Kendra and Giles up physically. Also despite Spikes surprise defection to the side of the good guys none of them could bring themselves to trust him and were worried about what he would do once the presence of the Sanctuary Spell was no longer in effect.
Willow, unable to sit still any longer, got up of the bed she had been sitting on with Oz and started to pace the room. "There's got to be something we can do... we could try the Diary Room, I mean.. well I'm good with computers and stuff, I could be... y'know Hacker Girl and try to override the system or something..." Her voice trailed off as she mentally assessed her plan finding several flaws.
"Right Willow and that would get us all nice and dead too wouldn't it, lets all go and play with the most notorious, evil vampires in recent history." Cordelia snapped exasperated and as per usual not really caring who knew it. "For the love of Dolce & Gabbana, Buffy and Kendra are Slayers... The Chosen Ones an' all, super strength and skill - Hello! If they can't take care of Huey, Dewy and Louie between them what chance would we have." She was sitting on the other bed, close to Xander but not actually touching him, after all it was bad enough that everyone had found out about their... well what amounted to teen lust and deviancy in the closets and secluded areas of the Big Brother house without drawing any extra attention to it.
Willow, still pacing up and down between the girls beds, racked her brains trying to think of something, anything that would help her friend. She knew that Buffy had had to make some terrible decision regarding Angel, (or Angelus she amended her thoughts as she was reminded of his new, well renewed 'evil' status). She was stopped in her tracks when her foot collided with something that had fallen between the beds, bending over she saw a small package with a note attached to it. Her curiosity was peaked when she saw what was written there, simply "From Jenny - If all else fails."
"What the...?" she said softly picking up the package from its hiding place on the floor and looking over at her friends who were still discussing possible ideas amongst themselves. "Ummmmm you guys, has anyone got any idea what this is?" She waved the small parcel at the assembled housemates only to find them as mystified as she herself was.
"Gimme a look Will, hey maybe Big Brother really is watching over us." Xander asked taking it off her, his expression changing as he read the note attached to the front, pursing his lips he gave a small whistle. "From Jenny... do you think she knew...?" He quickly started to take of the wrapping, figuring any help at this stage was welcome. The contents of the package were soon exposed to the group, they comprised of a notebook filled with a neat and feminine handwriting, (Jennys they assumed), some bags containing herbs and a small crystal ball, ("An Orb of Thessula," Willow surmised with the notebooks help) .
Reading through the contents of the notebook Willow started to grow steadily more exited. "Oh my god, its a way for us to get Angel back... I mean his - Angels soul back." She looked over at Xander who was watching her with a bemused expression. "Xander... we could... Buffy wouldn't have to.. we can get Angel to be the way he was - before." Her excitement reached an almost fever pitch as she realised what it would mean for Buffy if they could return Angel to her the way he used to be. "Xander, we need to try this, for Buffy."
Xander was confused. He'd seen Buffy and the way she'd been in the Diary Room I mean hadn't it almost broken his heart when he'd found her sitting there, staring into nothing and looking almost, he tried to find the right words to descibe how she's appeared to him as she'd realised everything that had happened - Jenny, Giles. Broken he thought to himself, thats it, she was broken and maybe if there's something we can do we should give it a try. Still balancing that against his hatred of Angelus, (and in turn Angel, cause hey why should he get away scott free? If it hadn't been for his dark brooding looks and manly sensitive side Xander himself would have surely been in the frame for some Buff Love), he was still unconvinced.
Meanwhile Cordelia and Oz had busied themselves checking out the contents of the surprise package, Cordelia had picked up the small Crystal ball and was surprised how heavy it was, she was even more surprised when two seconds later it slipped from her perfectly manicured grasp and shattered on the wood flooring of the Girls Bedroom.

"Who'd have thought the little sucker would have been so darn slippery." She muttered as she stared shamefacedly at the now useless and multi pieced crystal orb and the other three stared in horror. "Maybe we could use some glue.. or something?"

Buffy Big Brother - Week 2 - Day 7 (eviction imminent)

Spike backed away from Buffy. She took a step back herself, and they regarded one another over the fallen bodies of Angelus and Giles. Soft cries were escaping the lips of the librarian; he could have been still conscious, but Spike doubted it. That punch, that one act of revenge, had taken the strength from him and would continue to do so for quite a while yet. Angelus, for his part, would be out for a much shorter length of time, but out he nonetheless was.

That left him with the Slayer.

"Feeling better?" she broke the silence first, her eyes falling momentarily on the wheelchair.

"Much."

"Where are Kendra and Drusilla?"

Ouch. This was going to require some creative lying. "Dru killed her."

"Then she dies."

"Not bloody likely."

"Was really hoping you were gonna say that."

Spike held up his hands even as he saw Buffy's posture tense, the preliminary stage to a flying Slayer kick that would initiate the battle proper. "Wait," he implored her, "it doesn't have to go like this."

"You don't want it to?"

She saw something in his eyes flash. "You know the answer to that," Spike replied softly. "And one day, Slayer, believe you me, it'll go exactly like this."

"But not today?" Buffy said sceptically, circling him, the intent to strike still paramount in her stance.

"Drusilla's out. Just like mascara boy here. Did it myself because I knew she wouldn't understand what needed to be done."

That intent-o-meter went up another few notches. "Kendra needed to die?" Buffy said slowly, her face dangerously expressionless.

"She's a sodding Slayer you stupid bitch," Spike retorted, "she fought, she lost, it's how it goes. I've played this game long enough to know the rules and you should, too. But him-" and before Buffy could stop him, he'd delivered a sharp kick to Angelus' ribs, "-he's different, and you know it. He's the one you want."

"Yes he is - and I've got him."

"Thanks to me," Spike pointed out.

"Kendra dead wasn't part of the agreement."

"Neither was her attacking Drusilla."

"If I see her, I'll kill her," Buffy promised him.

"You won't have to. We're leaving."

"How do y-"

"Housemates, this is Big Brother."

Spike smiled, trying to hide his immense relief. "Right on time."

The voice was not Jenny's. It was the other, the inscrutable voice that had only occasionally spoken, unidentifiable and nondescript. Jenny's voice had sounded from hidden speakers. This one seemed to come from everywhere. Buffy felt the dawning realisation that what she was hearing now was the voice of the real Big Brother, the entity itself.

"The eviction process has begun. Please assemble in the living area."

"Wait!" Buffy said desperately as the voice faded. "You can't just say the process has begun! People have died! Don't you even care?"

There was no reply.

"It's an automated message," Buffy said, thinking out loud.

"It doesn't matter," Spike said impatiently. "You know who's for the chop - Dru or me, right? Well when the time comes I'll take her and we'll jump through the portal together. Leave all of you little bunnies here to sing songs and roast marshmallows and piss about."

"Spike, give me one reason, just one solitary reason, why I shouldn't just kick your ass, dust you and your truly spectacularly insane girlfriend and make the world a much better place?"

"Because if you let us go...I'll do it for you."

Her mouth made to form do what, but she knew what he was talking about, damn him. She burned hot with shame, of all things, but her pride forced her to deny the truth. "I don't need you to do it."

"So go ahead," Spike said, gesturing to Angelus. "There's a stake in the hallway."

"I'm not turning my back on you for one-"

"Then here," he said, and threw her something. She caught it instinctively and, upon recognising it, swore to herself that Spike would indeed pay the ultimate price for each and every one of his sins.

It was Mr Pointy.

"Hate me all you want," Spike said, smiling again, "but you know you can't do it for yourself. Oh, don't look at me like that - it's not like I'm judging. I saw the way you two looked at each other before the...before you and he...before the happy event. Love's a disease, eh? And you're still infected with it, Slayer, no use pretending otherwise. Who's here to know? Bookboy there - nice right hook on him by the way - is out cold, ditto your darling here. Just me and you. Throw me that thing back, one quick look the other way...poof. Heh. Poof is right, but that's beside the point. So what do you say, Buffy the Vampire Slayer?"

He was right. Everything he said was right, one hundred percent. For all he had done and said, and despite her coolness earlier when she'd faced him down, despite the truly appalling state he'd reduced Giles to, she knew she couldn't bring that stake crunching down through Angel - through Angelus' - heart. Not without losing a part of her she wasn't prepared to lose.

Through all of her agonising, Spike stood there, absorbing her misery and loving every second of it, knowing full well that he was the Devil she was about to deal with.

"Do it," she said, and tossed him Mr Pointy.

It never got there.

"Finally," Angelus said, his hand coming up at the perfect moment to snatch the stake from mid-air, followed a second later by the rest of him as he sprang to his feet with terrifying speed. "I was getting seriously bored."

Buffy Big Brother - Week 2 - Day 7 (eviction imminent)

Things happened very quickly. Spike had heard endless stories of how everything was supposed to slow down when your neck was on the line. Bollocks. It was all a blur, a chaotic blur, and the only thing that had kept him alive - well, "alive" - this long had been the advantages offered by his enhanced vampiric reflexes and strength.

Not that he needed any of those now.

Angelus crushed the stake into a million pieces with his fist, his face a paroxysm of rage. He launched himself at Buffy. Still stunned at seeing him mobile, she was catapulted backwards through the already damaged connecting wall. They landed in a heap, instantly struggling for supremacy. Buffy looked badly shaken, however, and it was Angelus who had the upper hand, as he struck at her relentlessly.

Spike felt a very slight tugging behind him. Glancing in that direction, he saw to his surprise that the connecting Diary Room portal had opened again.

He glanced back at the battle royale raging.

"She's going to die," he said aloud. He considered this for a moment, even as Angelus discovered the other stake in the hallway. It suffered the same fate as the previous one.

"Mnheh," he shrugged, and walked toward the portal, stopping only to pick Drusilla up on the way. Moments later, they were gone.

----

"Oops," Angelus lamented, as the second stake bit the dust beneath his grasp. "These things are so fragile, aren't they?"

Buffy tried to land a kick to his midriff. He parried her effortlessly, grabbing her foot and throwing her so she spun painfully into the frame of the control room's entrance.

"You know what I found interesting?" Angelus went on, even as he landed a series of lightning-fast blows to her back and shoulders, sending agonising jabs down her entire body. "That touching confession that you just weren't ready to stake me yet."

He sent her sprawling with a savage blow to the head.

"I love you too," he said.

Buffy lay prone across the main bank of controls. She'd heard endless stories of how your life was supposed to flash before your eyes now. At the end.

For she was going to die, just as she'd done seven days ago at the hands of the Master, except this time there would be no coming back from the beyond, no warm breath from Xander spilling into her lungs and forcing her heart to beat. She would not look up at Xander and look past him in the same movement, her eyes seeking out the panicked face of Angel.

He'd held her then, a week ago. I thought I'd lost you, Buffy.

That's never gonna happen, she had replied.

Angelus was saying something. No doubt a fitting farewell remark, his last gesture before the killing blow he was even now setting in motion impacted upon her, ending her brief but eventful career as Slayer.

And still she saw Angel, the real Angel, as he had been.

Then don't let it happen, he told her. He smiled, and there was none of the malice, none of the joie de mort that his demonic doppelganger exuded. It was just a smile, warm and sincere and good.

Buffy moved.

Angelus never knew what hit him.

She had been there, right there, lying helpless and beaten, ready for the kill. Just as the full stop on their little paragraph was about to be inked, she had rewritten the rules, twisting and turning. His arm, grabbed. He was hurled forward, feet suddenly at his stomach, accelerating his none-too-graceful parabola right into the control panel. He tasted his own blood. Consciousness swam before him, was lost for an instant, and then blearily returned.

Immediately, he wished it hadn't. Buffy was on a mission. Angelus was flung in the opposite direction before he could blink. There was no style or finesse to Buffy's attacks, just sheer bloody-minded purpose.

Seconds later, he was on his ass, his back against a panel. If there was a part of his body that didn't ache, he had yet to feel it. Still Buffy approached him, no stake to hand but clearly willing - and, he realised, fully capable - of pulling off his head with her bare hands.

He got to his feet, in what seemed a last gesture of defiance. It was not.

"Wait for...wait for the eviction protocol to begin," Giles had croaked, as Drusilla stood over him, her hypnotism making him delirious. "When it does, the panel's configuration will...change. The override is...bottom-left corner. Marked with an omega symbol."

"You know when I said I wasn't ready?" Buffy asked him. She shrugged slightly. "I guess I got over that."

"Not quickly enough," Angelus replied, and pressed the omega button.

"Emergency confirmed. Failsafe system activated."

Deep in his fevered sleep, Giles heard those words, and he smiled. Drusilla's little suggestion had fooled him to begin with, but he'd come to his senses in time to see through the deception. Accordingly, he'd told Angelus how to alert Big Brother that someone was breaking the rules.

"What the f-" Angelus said, and vanished.

Buffy blinked. "Well, that was-" she began, before disappearing herself.

----

"Welcome."

"Oh, not this place again," Spike complained, finding himself surrounded by the same void that had claimed him before his transportation to the house.

"Sorry it's not more scenic for you, Spike. How is everyone else doing?"

For the first time, Spike noticed that, indeed, he was not alone. Floating right beside him...or was it a mile distant...no, now they were on the horizon... (he closed his eyes at this point and forced his brain to stop trying to comprehend the void)...were Drusilla, Buffy, and Angelus. Dru was still unconscious.

"This isn't an automated message?" Buffy said, her voice echoing into the eternity around them.

"Press 1 if you want to live," the voice replied, sounding amused. "Angelus, stop struggling. You look ridiculous. Are you angry that Giles double-crossed you?"

Angelus stopped struggling, but said nothing.

"Suit yourself. Slayer," Buffy found herself addressed suddenly, "congratulations on your handling of the situation. As your Big Brother treat, you alone shall choose the fate of your companions here."

As he said the words, two portals opened. One was the mirror opposite of the entrance portal; a concave tunnel from nothingness into nothingness, ordered and sedate. The other she recognised only too well - the red, angry iris leading directly to Hell. Even in this place she could feel it tugging at her, inching her closer to its entrance.

"Drusilla, you might be interested to know you won the eviction. You are the weakest housemate. Goodbye."

"No!" Spike cried, but it was too late. Dru's suspended body was jerked into the entrance to the smaller, black portal. Just as she crossed the threshold consciousness returned to her. Her scream of confusion and displacement rang out in the void as she was swallowed.

"Relax, Spike. She's gone back to what you might call 'reality', although I think she might have rather liked Hell. Now, Slayer - your choice. They've both misbehaved, so it's one for each portal. One to Earth, and one to Hell. What's it to be?"

She felt their eyes upon her. "I can't do this."

"You can. Just so you know, it's taking a lot of power to run this. The sort of power that's usually better employed...oh, say, pumping oxygen into houses, that sort of thing."

Her friends. She could see them staggering, choking, clutching at their throats, gasping for air. Willow would think of her as she died, and wonder what happened to her.

She turned to face Angelus. "Go to Hell," she said.

It was Spike who moved first, though, not Angelus. He locked eyes with her for an instant before the smaller portal claimed him, and his eyes renewed his earlier promise that this would be settled properly one day.

Only the portal to Hell remained.

"I can't wait to see the ratings for this."

Buffy found she could move, after a fashion, as if there were an invisible platform under her feet. Clearly Angelus experienced the same phenomenon. She realised that they had only been around five feet apart the whole time.

"See you soon," Angelus promised.

"You always have to get the last word, don't you?"

What his reply would have been remained a mystery. At that moment, he staggered forward. Fearing some sort of attack, even now, even here, she stepped backward. He was trembling all over, his arms shaking. It wasn't the portal causing this - that was still glowing fiercely in the background.

"Aaannnnn," he moaned, sinking to his knees and turning his face to the heavens. There was a glowing light in his eyes.

"What's going on?" Buffy demanded.

A few seconds later, she knew.

Buffy Big Brother - Week 2 - Day 7 (Becoming...)

So this was being a Slayer. I'd watched people die, had been forced to fight to the death the only man I'd ever loved, and now I was stuck in limbo dealing with the devil.

I wanted out. I knew that now. One girl in all the world...well, they'd chosen the wrong one. Surely it had happened before? Surely some luckless adolescent had tasted blood on her lips, looked up and took in the sight of a creature from hell determined to make her their next meal and thought hey, I wonder if McDonalds are hiring?

Before I could get out, or at least start working on it, there was one last thing I had to do. I had to watch Angelus be swallowed by that portal. I needed to see him vanish there. More than that, though, I actually wanted to see it. It was payback. He'd killed Jenny, caused Kendra's death, and tortured Giles to within an inch of his life and his sanity.

And then, right then when I thought it was finally over, he pulled the most hurtful trick of them all.

"Buffy?" he said softly, weakly, still on his knees before me. The last vestiges of that white light spilled from his eyes like pearled tears. His gaze, formerly piercing, was now fixed on me and not through me.

I didn't believe it at first, of course.

"Nice try."

"Wh...where am I...where are we?" he gasped. "Last thing I remember was you...it was your birthday. The garden..."

How could I believe him? How could I? I'd stood there and watched as he'd gleefully screwed my life, my friends, my whole existence, and he'd done it with a smile in his unbeating heart. I'd given him everything I had and he'd known that, used it against me. This was the latest desperate gambit, a final appeal to the humanity in me that he himself had erased.

"I love you," he said.

I was in his arms by the time he said I. It was true. I had no time for logical thought, or to consider how likely it was that this was another deception, but those thoughts would have been needless anyway. It was Angel I was holding, Angel who was holding me. It was Angel who kissed me, not the horrible, viciously cold kiss I had gotten from the other, but the kiss I remembered from that night in the garden; perfect, mutual, tender. A kiss with soul.

I was crying, badly. So was he, his tears wetting my face. Confusion reigned within him. I could see the knowledge reflected in his eyes though, the realisation that he had done something, been somewhere. Twice, three times he tried to speak, and each time I shushed him with another kiss. No need for apologies. Not now. I felt my strength return, and I didn't mean the ability to twirl people over my head and smash them into things. My real strength.

When the first tugs came, I dismissed them as my imagination. I held Angel tighter to me, refusing to allow him to budge an inch, imaginary or not. I tried to tell him how much I loved him, how much I'd missed him and needed him. He wouldn't let me. Shushed me with a kiss each time, which was better than anything I could have-

He was jerked backward, out of my arms. This wasn't my mind playing games.

"Buffy?" he said, fear in his eyes. Behind him, the portal boiled and screamed and reached out for him, its tendrils beginning to encircle his waist, a giant eye about to blink and make him vanish.

"No!" I screamed, and tried to run on nothingness. Absurdly, I succeeded. He was in my arms again. I could feel the pull of the portal behind him, and this time it was my Slayer strength I called on, every flashy nuance of it, straining to keep him with me.

Unreality paused.

You made your choice, Slayer.

I didn't know! Don't take him from me, God, please don't take him from me...

Either he goes...or your friends do.

Then I'm going with him.

Sorry, Slayer. Even I have superiors, you know. And that would be strictly against rules.

Don't do this. Don't make me say goodbye to him.

At least this time, you're getting the chance to say it. Besides, it's more like au revoir...

Someone hit the play button. Angel hung there, shaking in my last desperate grasp, still not knowing what it was that was taking him away from me, unaware that it had been my decision to send him there.

"It's my fault," I told him, screaming the confession into the void. I'd given him everything once. I wanted to do so again, even if it meant he went to Hell hating me.

"I love you," he replied, and was gone.

Just...gone.

The nothingess around me seemed to spread, not just around me but inside me. I don't know how long I was there, hanging in emptiness. Just that it wasn't long enough. He'd gone there loving me. I wished I could hate him for that, but I couldn't. Of all the things Angelus had done, none had made me feel as worthless as this.

Do you want to go home, Slayer?

A portal, one of the small black variety, opened in front of me.

Back to Sunnydale. You'll arrive at the moment you left. I can even wipe your memory of this place, if you like.

"What about my friends?"

They're still in the game. Thanks to you.

"Send us home. Send us all home. None of us want to play, don't you get that? This game is over."

It's not over yet, Slayer. Not even dawn. But for some of you...well, consider this your official time-out.

Before I could ask what the hell Mr Disembodied Voice meant by that, the void disappeared. Or I did. I was getting used to this by now though, so the dematerialisation didn't throw me.

Appearing in the middle of a freeway, with a huge rig bearing directly at me - now, that threw me. My last thought, as I threw myself to one side, the smell of oil filling my nostrils and the sound of sixteen huge tyres screeching through my mind, was home, sweet home...