Okay I don't do this much but I know I like to have replies to my reviews if possible so I thought I really should show my appreciation to those who review me.

BadGirlFaith: sorry I take so long to update, this is for all pplz who read my story, I've had a writers block, I know it sounds lame but I just couldn't seem to get the words out, plus cause of the holidays I've been spending lots of time cleaning….lol. Thanks for the review and I'll try really hard to update sooner, I'm just not allowed on the internet a lot.

Ghostwriter: thanks for the review, I know how you feel bout school, same as me, darn it, if only we didn't need education.. lol.

dalmatiangrl2: lol, yeah I love Irish accents I think their cool, I think DB isn't really successful with the accent, but he tries and it comes out good sometimes, I hate the hair more though…lol . Thanks for the review.

Arica Princess of Rivendell: It's here, it's updated lol. REVIEW plz. Lol. Hope you like.

CHAPTER TEN

OLD TIMES

"Old Times, Holed up

Can't find that lost cup

The sleeping beauty lies in wait

For the knight to come in haste

Old times, Holed up

Can't find that way up,"

Joyce had come home to find Buffy asleep in her bed, she tried waking her, it didn't seem to work. That was when her fears came to light, again, parents are parents after all, and their main occupation is to worry. So Joyce did just this and worried, and with a daughter as the Slayer it was no surprise, that worrying took up most of her days. Joyce banged pots and pans near Buffy, she shook her, she yelled her name, and when that didn't work with complete composure she took up the phone, the pink one she had bought Buffy for her sixteenth birthday, and dialed those three digits.

The ambulance came, tried to wake her, they didn't help either and Joyce felt annoyed, obviously she had tried shaking her and calling her name, that's why she had called them. They looked completely confused; there was a healthy girl who appeared to be just asleep, beside the small factor that you couldn't wake her. The paramedics tried chatting to Joyce, one was looking hopefully towards the kitchen, Joyce didn't respond, all she could see was her daughter, lying there sleeping, her chest rising and falling. Princess that's what her dad used to call her, that's what she looked like now, just like sleeping beauty. They took her on the stretcher, loaded her up in the ambulance, that's when Giles and Xander landed up. Joyce felt like she was in a dream, about to climb into the vehicle Giles had quickly run over, advised that she should go to the hospital later, there was an important matter they must talk about. He guided Joyce into the house, into her living room; Xander was pale next to him, rubbing his knuckles, he looked more furious then anything.

Joyce stood there, in her trance state; she found it odd there was no music playing in the background, just like in the movies. All the headlines of people suddenly falling into comas and never waking up sprang to her mind; it seemed horrible to see her daughter, but not to have her there, in the world of the living, with Joyce.

Giles, took of his glasses like he so often did, wiping them on his shirt, he put them back on and sighed heavily, he looked more worried, old and vulnerable, even though he wasn't that old, maybe he seemed so to younger people like Buffy, but not to Joyce.

"I fear the doctors may not be able to do anything for Buffy," Giles said gravely, Joyce looked up at him.

"Why?" she asked, her voice cracked, she didn't care, she needed to know what was wrong. "What's happened to her?" she needed to know that most of all, something she had known when Buffy hadn't stirred, that the doctors couldn't answer.

Giles took his glasses off again, "I have a theory but it will be of little use right now… all you really need to know is…" his words faded away as Joyce suddenly grabbed his jacket, pulling him so there faces were close.

"Don't you dare tell me what I need to know Rupert," she practically growled, she was shaking with frustration, helplessness, and an anger against whatever fates had dealt her daughter such a horrible curse, and given her a life of worry and worst of all fear, not of what went bump in the night, but of such a natural process… death. "I need to know what's wrong with my daughter."

"It was dead boy," Xander said viciously, "It's all his fault, he should have stayed deceased the last time, because I'm going to kill him when he wakes up."

"Yes thank you Xander," Giles snapped, turning angrily to the teenager, "We all appreciate your insight, but I believe Miss Summers needs some facts, not just a mere boy's jealousy." He turned back to Joyce, looked her in the eye, "I'm sorry," he said, holding her gaze steadily with a hint of pity. "I have been very insensitive Joyce, forgive me, it is just I am not sure if my theory is something, or simply nothing." He sighed heavily, slipping out of Joyce's grasp, as her hands fell to her side in despair. "I will tell you everything I suspect; after all I know how much I hate to be left in the dark, especially about something so important."

"Who's dead boy?" Joyce asked, turning to Xander and then back to Giles.

"Angel," Giles said, rather frostily Joyce thought.

"What does he have to do with this?" Joyce asked quickly, her blood rising, so he was the cause of Buffy's endangerment again. Well at least Joyce knew this time around; at least Joyce could protect Buffy.

"I believe…" Giles hesitated, "Well quite frankly I believe he's behind all of this… I think it's unintentional though." he looked like he wished it wasn't.

"So what's your theory?" Joyce asked, determined to hear the worst or the best, so long as it could give her an inkling of what was wrong with her daughter.

"I believe," Giles began, "Well I suppose I should begin with Angel's past, the human Angel not his vampire countenance. I have been reading the Watchers diaries, but you have to know, I'm not entirely sure about this theory, it could be something else entirely…"

"Spill it G-man," Xander said, standing with his arms crossed. Giles gave him an annoyed look.

"Yes, well it's mostly based on speculation, but there have been many watchers who have tried to delve into Angelus' pass, obviously to find a weakness in the vampire, and for historical purposes. They have never really found much, as he massacred nearly his whole village along with Darla when sired… but it is clear that he was not a very happy young man."

"What gave that away," Xander snorted, "Was it the fact he died, or the massacring."

This time both Giles and Joyce gave him a dirty look. "As I was saying," Giles continued, "They researched, apparently some children managed to escape, as they ran and took cover deep in the forest, or in some boats. They passed down there stories to there children, and down it went for generations, until Charles, a Watcher, went to research a new Irish vampire which had cropped up, growing his way to fame in the dark world, naturally he brought his Slayer along too. They had found out the vampire had resided in Galway through one of his… lets say vampire girlfriends." With this he turned slightly red with embarrassment and Joyce found herself reddening.

"Come on children," Xander said, "Maturity," but he looked grim, and he wasn't smiling.

'Anyway," Giles moved on, "When they got there they found one house which was empty and dissolute, in a town that was overflowing, well at that time it had turned from a small country town to a busy sea port. They asked about it, and their inquiries unfolded the story, fabricated of course, but some facts still in tact. The people proclaimed that the devil's own son had lived their. One of misguided beauty, he was cold and cruel, not responding to any of his father's attempts to reform him. His father soon despaired and could only punish him in the hopes to at least put the fear of God in him, if nothing else. They used to hear the yelling down the street, domestics in lesser times, you could say. The boy apparently turned to all sorts of disgraceful things. Then one day he was found dead in the alley, but he arose, proving apparently the towns suspicion he had the devil in him all along. He killed all the people apparently, even his own sister who people proclaimed fought valiantly against him an angel in disguise, they believed, as they found lying Angel's old bed, unlike the other victims which lay where they were killed,…. Petals lay around her body, dresses in a white silk dress…."

Giles trailed, and looked away for a moment, regaining his composure, finally he continued, "Apparently he spared those who were young to spread the devil's evilness, all of these children apparently died poor, and the curse was set on to the rest of their family. Of course Charles saw through this as an excuse for wrongdoing on the ancestor's part, and wrote so, he found out the true story of events about the children's real escape from an old lady. Apparently she had lived there for many years, she said she was about twelve when Angel was turned, she got away because she was finding herbs for her sick mother, and only returned in the morning. Her mother apparently was best friends with Angel's, her name was Rosa, her family had come to Ireland at fourteen, she had adopted its culture as her own. The old woman told of her mothers distress one day of the year, the day of Rosa's death. Apparently she died of a pandemic which had spread through the town, Angel almost died of this but it was his mother it took instead. Apparently the old ladies mother had looked after the child after his mother's death, he was torn up about it. The father took him back and ignored the ladies outreach for friendship, and did not let Angel stay with her and her oldest son again. The father blamed Angel for his mother's death, the lady believed. Charles found this all exceedingly interesting, and had thought that they had finally found a weakness of Angelus' but the council deemed this investigation as unimportant and proclaimed that Angelus was a vampire like any other, and would soon die because of his own folly, or at the hand's of the Slayer down the track, of course at that time Angelus was not the scourge of Europe yet. So Charles and his Slayer left, both of them died a few years later, and his research was forgotten. When Angelus' was at his prime the Council tried desperately to find a way to stop him, there careless remarks forgotten, and along with them Charles research."

"So, what's this got to do with Buffy?" Joyce asked, annoyed at the little pang of pity she felt for that poor boy.

"Well…" Giles said, "I believe that a spell, some sort of spell, was done by Angel, of course, a demon that professes in this sort of thing would have actually done it, but they would need to be told, the memory that is wanted to be forgotten. I believe that Charles was onto something. Even as a demon one time in the year, or near it, Angelus seemed to cease activity, go off on his own, usually having fights with his sire Darla. The council never realized why, just knew that at least one time in the year, the deaths that happened almost every day at his hands, stopped. I have cross referenced and it appears to be the same day Angelus' mother was to have thought to have died, actually the same day he was turned, and the day before the whole town of Galway was massacred. I don't know why the spell has gone wrong, I need to research more, and find out what's happened. It will be impossible to reverse the effects if we don't know the origins."

"So all we can do is research and wait until we get that lucky brake," Joyce said, holding her head and slumping down on the couch, "If we get a lucky brake."

"I hate waiting," Xander said darkly.

"Do you think we'll get Buffy back?" Joyce asked, "Will she ever wake up?"

"I don't know," Giles said, anxiety spreading over his whole face, "I honestly don't know. But I had to call for Charles particular diary, and I recounted what was occurring to the Watchers Council, they decided I would need assistance so help is on the way, or what I hope will be help."

"Well I suppose we better get back," Xander suddenly said, "Back to good old research."

"No rest for the wicked," Giles sighed, "Would you like me to give you a ride, Ms Summers?"

Back to formality but Joyce didn't notice, "Rest only flickered, No rest for the wicked or good," she whispered quietly, thinking of the old rhyme her grandmother had taught her. Would there be any rest for her, or her daughter, for all the people who tried to be good in the world?

"Ms Summers?" Giles asked, concerned.

Joyce looked up, "Yes I'd appreciate that, and Giles after the hospital….I'd like to research too. I want to find out what's wrong with Buffy, I want to help."

Giles nodded, and they left to see the sleeping beauty and then to search through the past of the vampire with a soul Angel, probably even going as far back as the scourge of Europe, and even further back, to the old times when there was just a young man named Liam.