A/N: I know this took a lot longer than usual, but from now on expect much longer between updates. Mild writers block, the kind where you've bitten off more than you can chew. I'm slowly sorting it out and trying not to leave too many loose ends.

The morning after Christmas, Spike checked in on Illyria, concerned for her wellbeing, both physically and mentally. Last nights charade had been worrisome. She was lying on her bed, reading a book when he entered the room. She looked up at him, looking away when she remembered what had transpired last night between them. Spike understood her reluctance to look at him directly.

"Morning blue. How'd you sleep?" he inquired delicately.

"Deeply," she answered simply. More like comatose, Spike thought. How could she not have a hangover?

"How much about last night can you remember?" A short pause.

"All of it. I have perfect memory. Every second I have existed I remember with ultimate clarity." Spike raised his eyebrow, impressed. "I remember getting so drunk I couldn't stand unassisted. I remember attempting to initiate intimate relations with you. I remember you rejecting them." Oh boy. Spike took in a deep breath. He hoped she wasn't bitter about it. The last thing he needed was a re-juiced, hurt, unstable god angry at him. That had never worked out well with previous deities.

"Yeah…" he said. An awkward silence fell on them. She gazed at her book without resuming it, and Spike looked around.

"I have been thinking about what you said…about what I should do with my life. I-" Hesitating for a moment, she gathered her courage and continued. "I wish to try and live like a human." The statement took Spike aback, confounding him. He never thought she'd say anything like that. "I cannot ignore these emotions any longer, and you are right; drink does not help … Humans are able to deal with them; I am not, my lack of experience damning. If I am to deal with them, it is clear to me that only by becoming as human as I can will I have a hope of not being rent asunder by renegade feelings…Before, when it was just the shell's memories, I could ignore them most of the time, but with the flood of the keys' memories and feelings, the pollution of her soul, I cannot shove them aside any longer." Illyria put down her book, which Spike saw was titled 'The importance of the familial bond'. "I have learned all I need to from this," she said, referring to the book. Illyria got up from the bed. "I will be back presently. Right now, I have something to do." She walked out of the room without waiting for a reply, Spike following shortly. He chased her down the corridors, then down the stairs, catching up with her just before she walked out the front doors.

"Illyria, wait! Where are you going?" She turned around impatiently.

"To visit the shell's family." It took a while to sink in. That was quite far away, if he remembered correctly.

"You don't have to leave because of last night," he said. "I don't mind, luv. We're still friends, that doesn't have to change." She scoffed.

"What makes you think this has anything to do with you? I am not leaving for good. I will be back." She turned and left without waiting for him to reply. Though he followed her to the porch, he couldn't follow her into the sunlight. She vanished around the corner, quite literally; Spike couldn't even hear footsteps.

Muttering under his breath, he turned around and came face to face with Buffy. He wondered briefly how she'd managed to sneak up on him, eventually attributing it to her being the slayer. Her brows were knit and she was looking at Spike suspiciously.

"What do you mean, 'because of last night?'" Buffy asked. Spike sucked in a breath, unsure of how to tackle this. He could tell the truth, and risk her fury (and possibly her starting a catfight with Illyria), or he could omit the whole truth and just tell part of the story.

"Last night… Uh… yeah, Illyria was pretty hammered. Seems she's been drowning the sorrows… She said some things that I think embarrassed her this morning…" he said. Buffy wondered what that could have possibly been.

"Like what? And where's she going?" Spike shrugged nonchalantly.

"Dunno. Don't even know when she'll be back……Look, Buffy," said Spike, awkwardly scratching his head, deciding to tell her about Illyria kissing him. He knew lying to her would catch up to him in the long run, and besides, it wasn't like he'd done anything wrong; Illyria was the one who had started it.

"Oh my god," murmured Buffy before Spike had a chance to continue. She was looking behind Spike, where Spike realised another person had snuck up on him. Spike turned around to see a familiar face standing unobtrusively in the doorway.

"Hey," said a softly smiling Oz, nodding his head in greeting. "So, like, I was in the area, so I thought I'd stop by." Grinning, Buffy approached him and hugged him, a gesture he returned with gentle reserve.

"It's so good to see you Oz! How've you been? What are you doing here? Oh, never mind, it doesn't matter! We have so much to catch up on!" she said. Oz nodded in agreement, eyeing Spike speculatively.

"I've been good. I was nearly blown up in the San Francisco bombing, so that kinda sucked. It's one of the reasons I'm down here now; my girlfriend and I are going to Mexico with some other wolves…. So…I have to ask…Why is he here?" Oz said, pointing to Spike. Buffy and Spike exchanged glances, each remembering that Oz's only memories of Spike were of the vampire trying to kill them all.

"A lot has happened… Spike's got a soul now." Oz nodded once.

"Oh. You too, huh?" he said, taking it all in stride. "A lot's happened to me as well… like I play bass now…" Buffy chuckled at his mildness. "So… I was wondering if either of you knew what's going on? With the world?" Buffy puckered her mouth, not sure how to reply to that.

"Got a few hours?" asked Spike with a raised eyebrow.

"Do we ever?" came a fourth voice from outside, the attractive blonde owner entering the lobby and taking up a place next to Oz.

"Dog girl?" said Spike, surprised. The last person he'd expected to see hanging around with Oz was Angel's ex-girlfriend.

"It's Nina to you," she said with her arms crossed, tucking a stray lock of blonde hair behind her ear. At Buffy's look, Oz introduced her.

"Buffy, this is Nina, my girlfriend. Nina, Buffy Summers." Nina reached out and shook Buffy's hand.

"So you're the Buffy that I've heard so much about," she remarked, sizing Buffy up. "Angel's told me about you." Ending the handshake, Buffy looking at her, surprised.

"You know Angel? Where from?"

"He used to lock me in a cage at that time of month," she insinuated, deliberately being cryptic, getting a small measure of joy from Buffy's look. So this was the woman whom Angel had visited in Rome without telling her...

"Oh. That's…" Huh? "I'm sorry, how do know Angel again?" Buffy asked.

"We used to go out. But that's not what the cage was for," she said hastily, seeing Buffy's look. "I'm a werewolf. I met Oz at a gathering in San Francisco a few months ago, and we hit it off. We have a lot in common… art, music, students, werewolves…allergic to nuts, so we decided to go out.".

"I didn't know you were allergic to nuts," remarked Buffy, looking at Oz, who had a smile tugging on his lips.

"Neither did I. Lets just say I don't want to repeat the experience; it wasn't pleasant."

"Say, is Angel around?" broke in Nina. Buffy nodded, a slight touch of jealously obvious.

"Yeah, he's upstairs. I'll go get him in a moment…"

"If she's here, could you get Willow too? I'd like to say hey," requested Oz. Seeing Buffy and Spike's looks, he got a sinking feeling in his chest. "She's ok, right?" Spike scratched his head and Buffy's eyes became downcast.

"Oz, about Willow-"

Nina knocked softly on Angel's door. After a few seconds of waiting, there was no answer. She knocked again, and there was still no answer. She tentatively opened the door, peeking in. Not seeing the dark vampire, she entered, pointedly closing the door behind her. She looked around, taking in the decorum.

"Man, talk about moving down in the world…" she muttered to herself. Peering over at another door, she could hear the droning patter of water hitting the floor. Steam seeped from under the door. She decided to wait around until Angel was finished with his shower.

After several more minutes, the shower stopped. She heard a door sliding open and some moving around. The wooden door opened and Angel emerged in a towel, his upper body glistening. He was drying his hair with a second towel, so he didn't even realise she was there until he bumped into her. He dropped his head towel and stared at her, amazed.

"Nina…" he said, startled.

"Angel. It's good to see you again. How've you been?" Looking around, embarrassed to be so naked in front of her, he delayed answering. She rolled her eyes. "Relax, it's not like I haven't seen you naked before." Realising he was being silly, he calmed down. They were both adults, and there wasn't any need to fret about it.

"I've been good… Mostly. I got my soul fixed, and now I'm back with Buffy. You?" She raised her eyebrows, impressed.

"I've also been good. I moved to San Francisco, where I met a certain Daniel Osbourne. We're going out now."

"Oz?" questioned a very surprised Angel.

"Yeah, he's downstairs. Buffy's filling him in…so I was kind of hoping you'd fill me in. You send me and my family away, and within a few weeks, the world starts ending."

"Hey! I didn't end the world, I saved it!" Angel said defensively. Strolling to the window, Nina looked out, eyes surveying the city. From several places, pyres of smoke billowed, the result of a riot or a magic attack, everyday occurrences these past few weeks.

"Really? Could have fooled me. Civil war in this country; Magic plagues in India; anarchy in South America, witch-hunts everywhere? Angel, fifty million people are dead!" What? That didn't sound right, thought Angel.

"Fifty? Last I heard it was ten." Nina's face fell.

"You haven't heard?" she asked, a pained look on her face. Angel shook his head, afraid of what he was about to hear. He bid her to continue, though he was sure he was about to feel very badly about something. "New York isn't there anymore. It happened at noon yesterday. The central forces bombed it to dust. Said it was a citadel of Satanism and debauchery. And it's not the only place. Pakistan and India have been nuking each other since Tuesday." Angel counted the days. Today was Friday. "And it seems to have all started the day we broke up. What happened?"

Angel sank down to the bed, burying his face in his hands. Neither he, nor anybody else in the hotel had heard. He was shell-shocked. A sickening feeling rose up inside him as he realised it would have never happened if the senior partners' spell were in place.

"What have I done?" whispered Angel.

"What have you done? No, really, I don't know. What ever it was Angel, I'm sure you couldn't have foreseen what's happening now," she said, trying to get across that she didn't blame him. She sat down on the bed, and he filled her in on everything he had done, attacking the circle, Wesley's death, the spell in the alley shattering, and things soon became clear to Nina.

When Buffy entered the room minutes later, Nina was still taking it all in, feeling like she had been violated by the spell. She thought it was sad that without the magic of evil demi-gods holding them back, mankind would sink to nuclear holy wars.

"Angel, Oz and I are going to visit-" she began, breaking off when she saw Nina and Angel sitting closely on the bed, Angel wearing only a towel. Realising how the situation must look, Angel got up quickly, nearly loosing his towel in the process.

"Buffy…Nina and I were just catching up," he said, a bit too quickly, "about the past. And what we've been doing since we … broke up…" he finished nervously, wishing he'd chosen better words with which to express himself. Nina rose, trying to act nonchalant.

"Yeah. Seems a lot has happened in the last few… anyway, you and Oz are going to visit-?" she said, requesting Buffy to finish. Shaking off a nagging doubt, Buffy answered.

"Yeah… we're going to visit Willow in hospital. Xander and Giles too. You're welcome to come, but it won't be much fun," Buffy said. Nina got the feeling that Buffy would be more comfortable if she went, so she decided to oblige.

"No, it's ok. I'd love to go. I'll finally meet the legendary Willow," Nina said, turning back to Angel when she was done. "I'll see you when I get back Angel." Buffy stepped aside, offering Nina the door. Nina walked through and Buffy followed, not looking at Angel before she left.

Angel listened to the go, following their footsteps downstairs. When he heard them leave, he lay back and thought deeply about the consequences of his actions. Intention not withstanding, he was directly responsible for the events unfolding in the international arena. He sank more deeply into the bed, thinking about the millions of people who were dying. He had unknowingly started a nuclear war…

Or had he? He was doing the work of the powers. They had told him to destroy the circle. Surely this couldn't be what they had intended…could it? He knew they sometimes let things get worse, but this was ridiculous. Could Wolfram and Hart have somehow managed to trick the powers? Had they been planning this all along? It seemed unlikely … If they had, the powers would have told him through a vision, surely. He knew he was going to have to find out, and also discover what their new pet project was. The question was how? He couldn't think of any contacts he had within Wolfram and Hart, and they certainly weren't going to tell him.

Doing his best to shove these problems out of his mind, he dried off and got dressed, slipping into comfortable slacks and a black button-up shirt. He left his room and wandered the halls of the hotel in deep thought. His stomach growled, reminding him he was hungry.

He made his way to his office, where he had some blood in the fridge. He opened the door and leaned in to get a bag. Just as he clutched it, Spike addressed him from behind.

"So… you hear about New York?" His tone was mournful and distant. Angel rose with a bag of pig's blood and nodded sombrely.

"Yeah." After a silence during which Spike had expected Angel to elaborate, he prodded him.

"So what do you make of it?" Pouring the blood into a mug and placing it in the microwave, Angel eventually replied.

"If you're asking me if I think it's our fault, the answer is I don't know." Spike scoffed.

"I never said 'our'. Destroyin' the Circle was your idea. I just tagged along. If I'd known this would happen, I wouldn'ta done it." Angel clenched his jaw, this being so typically Spike.

"It wasn't my idea Spike, it was the powers that be-"

"-Oh yeah, 'cause they're so helpful! Well you took their orders, and now look where it's got us!" Pausing for a second, he continued. "You know, I think these so-called powers that be are a load of bollocks, Angel! Buffy's never taken orders from them, and she's saved the world loads of times just fine. How do you explain that then?"

"I can't! All I know is the powers have never steered me wrong. They did save San Francisco!"

"Yeah, but they forgot to mention New York! Or Delhi, or Bombay, or Islamabad! Angel, the planet is about to enter the third world war, and the powers aren't helping one bit! You've had a single vision of any worth in the last few months, an' meanwhile millions are dying! People are rioting in the streets on a daily basis, and folks aren't even safe in their own homes because demon killing squads are doing random checks!"

"I know!" Angel shouted frustratedly, Spike falling into silence. "You think I haven't thought about this? You think I don't wonder every second if what I did was the right thing? Well I do! And the answer is I don't know! But then I wonder what would happen if I had never done any of it… what if the senior partner's apocalypse hadn't been stopped?" Angel said. He removed the blood from the microwave and took a sip.

"Well did you ever consider that maybe we're in it? That maybe this has been their plan all along? Angel, for whatever reasons, mankind rose from being 'the ooze that eats itself' to being the supreme life form of all dimensions. For eons, demons have tried and failed to make their comeback, and man has bested them without even realising. Now that man knows about it all, demon kind is being driven from this world! Every time you hear of a demon crusade rising somewhere, the next day you hear of how a thousand men with machine guns and modern weaponry crushed them! In the last hundred years, man has become so powerful that demon realms quake with fear, because they know that if it came down to a free for all, they'd loose! Has it never once crossed your mind that only mankind itself has the power to do what countless demons have failed to? Don't you see?" Angel nearly dropped his blood as the horrible realisation dawned on him, as Spike's words arranged themselves in his mind into a viable hypothesis.

"We played right into their hands… I didn't stop their apocalypse, I catalysed it. And the reason this one has been building for so long is because it's only been recently that man has had the power to destroy itself… what have I done?" he despaired, collapsing into his chair. Spike said nothing. "But… what about the powers? They told me to do it………. No," he said after a pause, shaking his head, "I don't believe this is over. The story isn't finished yet! This is only the apocalypse if we let it be. The senior partners won't win, because we're going to make sure of it."

"Here's hoping," mused Spike with a raised brow, hoping Angel had a plan, because he sure as hell didn't.

Buffy, Xander, Giles, Nina and Oz were in Willow's hospital room. The sterile smell bombarded Oz and Nina especially. It was so unnatural. Xander and Oz stood beside Willow's bed, staring down at her pale, lifeless form, listening to the machines hooked up to her as they made their droning noises.

"Hey Will," said Xander in the most up-beat tone he could manage. "Look who we found. He's here to see you." He looked up at Oz, beckoning him to follow up. Oz took Willow's hand in his own and stoked it.

"Hey. It's me, Oz. I came as soon as I heard… Look, I think you should try and get well as soon as you can; this doesn't suit you." He stopped for a minute, finding new things to say. "So, like, we should catch up as soon as you're awake. I hear you tried to destroy the world… I'm kinda glad you didn't, but it's understandable; those college finals can be a real bitch." Xander chuckled softly.

Just outside the curtain, Buffy and Nina were eyeing each other. Buffy didn't like the blonde woman, a fact that Nina could have picked up even without werewolf senses. Nina knew exactly why, though she couldn't help but feel a slight twinge of resentment about it. After all, when she'd been with Angel, she had been living in Buffy's shadow, and for that she got the scorn of said woman. It wasn't fair.

"So much has happened… Do you guys have any idea what you'll do next?" said Nina, desperate to fix the tense silence. Buffy didn't answer.

"Well," began Giles, "We need to figure out what Wolfram and Hart is up to, though I'm not entirely sure how… I'm also seriously considering moving out of the country. If New York is considered a legitimate target for a nuclear assault, then Los Angeles is just as vulnerable. It isn't safe here," he said tiredly. Buffy nodded, depressed about the whole affair. Apart from the sadness she felt for the state of her country, and the shock and near despair over the bombing, she simply didn't want to leave. California was her home. That being said, she didn't want to risk being vaporised. Sighing, she made up her mind.

"Agreed. When we get back to the hotel we'll make arrangements to leave, though by the looks of it, we're not the only ones," said Buffy, referring to the extremely heavy outbound traffic on the way over, the result of millions of people fleeing the city. The same was happening all over the country, the New York tragedy prompting a mass exodus from any major population centre. "Any thought of where we'll go?"

"Europe. It's safer there," said Giles.

"England?" Giles shook his head.

"No, I'm afraid Britain is one of the least stable countries there. The mainland is our best bet. We could go back to Rome?" he suggested, to which Buffy shook her head.

"Angel and Spike wouldn't like it there… Are you sure we can't go to England? I want somewhere that speaks English. What about Ireland? They speak English there, right?"

"They do… but the weather is terrible… besides, our needs would be better suited on the mainland. The Netherlands… it's the new San Francisco, I hear. We'd be bound to find something there that would help us fight against Wolfram and Hart." Levelling her gaze at Giles, Buffy nodded sadly, wishing she could stay in her home, but knowing it was far too dangerous.

"Do they speak English?"

"Better than the English do," confirmed Giles with mildly flummoxed nod.

"Ok. Netherlands it is."

Later that day, the Hyperion was buzzing with activity. People were busily moving around, packing things, making phone calls and generally winding up business. Buffy figured that she was never going to finish her college course. Too bad, she had really been getting into it. She also figured Willow would be seeing the last of her magic school, a place she had just settled into, and was top of her class, every class.

Giles had made arrangements to move Willow, claiming to be her next of kin, a claim he was sure she would have endorsed. All they had to do was say the word, and an ambulance would transport her to wherever was needed. Buffy and Xander didn't have more than one suitcase each, all of their important belongings having been destroyed in Sunnydale over a year before; Buffy had loads of clothes she'd bought with Dawn, but she didn't feel like touching them. Giles had a number of books, but other than that he also travelled light. Spike literally had nothing more than the clothes he wore and a single other set, but Angel had a lot he didn't want to leave.

Buffy found him in what had been Cordellia's room, looking through the dozens and dozens of boxes of her stuff, which had sat gathering dust for nearly two years.

"Looking through photo albums?" commented Buffy as she entered. Angel looked up from the leather bound album he was holding and nodded.

"Yeah… I want to bring all of it, but I know we can't… I have to decide what I bring… and what I loose forever." Buffy came up beside him and looked down at a picture. It was a picture of Angel, Cordellia and Doyle, standing together in the old office and smiling. The Angel in the picture seemed younger, like he wasn't bearing the weight of the world on his conscience. Grasping the album for a second longer, he put it into a rucksack on the ground by his feet, which Buffy could see was full of similar memorabilia.

"Angel… I'm sorry you can't bring it all…" His expression darkened as he was again reminded of the situation. Being millionaires thanks to David Nabbit's money, it seemed like they should have been able to move the entire hotel to Europe, but the panic meant that even vast sums of money were worthless. The city was emptying at an astonishing rate. The airports were closed and the central states formed a land barrier, which meant the only way out was to go north to Canada or south to Mexico, unless you were willing to be packed off to Hawaii on a crowded tanker. The government had declared marshal law, and soldiers were streaming into the city, trying to keep order. In short, nobody was willing to transport people with more than a few bags, regardless of how much money they had.

"So am I… but it needs to be done. I'm finished here." He bent over and zipped up his bag.

"So… you and Cordellia, huh? I still think it's weird," said Buffy wryly. Angel smiled slightly.

"I know the Cordy you knew was loud, shallow and cared about nothing except money and fashion, but she grew a lot. I saw her become a brave woman who only wanted to help people… I guess we got close. Does… it upset you?" he asked, sensing that Buffy was slightly uncomfortable with the idea.

"No," she said quickly, shaking her head. At Angel's look, she sighed. "Yes. I don't know why… I just… I don't like to think about you with other people. It makes me… Kinda insecure. I mean, when I walked in on you and Nina… were you that comfortable with Cordellia too?" Angel didn't reply for a second, wondering how she'd react.

"Yeah," he said. Buffy mouthed an 'Oh'.

"I know you and Nina…you know, had sex… but, did you and Cordy ever get… that close?" Angel wondered about the time he had achieved perfect happiness in the arms of Cordellia in his mind, debating about whether or not to tell Buffy. He knew she'd be hurt by it, but then again, it never actually happened… No, he knew that whether or not it actually happened wasn't the biggest issue, a fact he knew Buffy would see immediately.

"No. We barely even kissed, before…" she died… It still pained Angel to think about it. He couldn't even bring himself to say it. Buffy entwined Angel's hand in hers and led him out, knowing he didn't want to talk about it.

"So, have sex with any other blondes?" Angel swallowed, and replied after a second.

"No." Buffy slowed to a stop in the hallway and looked into his eyes searchingly. She narrowed her gaze.

"You're lying… Angel, just tell me. I don't mind, I swear, I just want the truth." Angel wetted his lips, debating whether or not to make something up. He figured he might as well tell her.

"Darla. Wolfram and Hart brought her back from the dead the year after I left Sunnydale." Buffy widened her eyes.

"Your sire? And where is she?"

"Dust," Angel said simply, not wanting to get into it. Buffy furrowed her brow.

"She was still evil? Just how many times did you become Angelus?" Angel shook his head.

"No, I was Angel. It was a dark time for me…" Buffy wasn't sure that made her feel better. She would have preferred it to be Angelus.

"Angel… what were you thinking? And just how many women have you been with?" she prodded accusingly. Angel crossed his arms, not liking her tone.

"Why should that matter?" Buffy looked away, a hard smile on her face.

"It matters to me."

"A few, Buffy." The smile vanished from Buffy's face, replaced with a look of near-hurt.

"What, you couldn't put me behind you fast enough?" Angel rolled his eyes angrily.

"It isn't always about you, you know. And I know you didn't remain chaste, so somehow, I don't think you have the right to be annoyed."

"Three people, one of whom was a regular boyfriend, and the other one was Spike." Angel chuckled sarcastically.

"Oh, so it's ok for you to have regular sex with an evil vampire, but if I do it once it's something to wag your finger at? My god, stop using double standards Buffy!"

"I'm not! I'm sorry it bothers me Angel, but I can't help it! I love you, and I don't like the idea of you being with anybody else, even if we weren't together, especially now that we are!" Angel frowned deeper.

"And you think I do? Step in my shoes, Buffy! Every other night, you spend with Spike, thanks to this rota we have going. You may not like the idea of me having been with another, but I have to live with you being with another every day! You're being a selfish hypocrite!" The words were like a slap to the face for Buffy. She knew he was right, and she suddenly felt very stupid and immature for fussing over what now seemed like petty details, but she was still hurt.

"You agreed to this, though! And so did Spike!" she argued, trying to regain her fire. Angel nodded.

"Yeah, I did, but that doesn't mean I like it. Trust me, if there was another way, I'd take it."

"Another way? Way? You say that like I'm some… goal, some jigzaw puzzle to be solved!"

"Well, you are quite the enigma," said Angel, brushing off her comment. She dropped her jaw at his sarcasm.

"My god… you know what Angel, fuck you!" For a moment he looked taken aback, but he recovered quickly.

"Fuck me? Fuck you! You're the one being an asshole!" Buffy shook her head disgustedly.

"Go screw yourself. Talk to me when you want to stop being a hurtful bastard," she said, spinning around and stalking off.

"No, you talk to me when you stop being a needlessly jealous child!" he yelled after her. He couldn't believe her. Was he just being really old? Or was she indeed being unfair… He stood thinking for some time, unable to decide which of them was in the wrong. He was just about to start walking again when a cry for help from the lobby grabbed his attention. He sprang into action, wondering what it could possibly be. Racing down the corridors, he came upon a sight he'd seen before. Heavily armed soldiers dressed in green camouflage were pointing M-16's at the occupants of the lobby. Some were looking around the office, rapidly searching things; others were clearing out the basement. All the other occupants of the hotel had their arms raised.

"Angel!" cried Buffy as he came, prompting several soldiers to snap their guns to him. He stopped running and raised his hands quickly.

"What the hell is-" Angel began.

"Shut up! We're asking the questions here! Now all of you, line up against the wall over there! MOVE!" The scoobies were jerked into action, quickly lining up against the wall below the balcony. When the lead soldier was sure they weren't going to try anything, he motioned for someone to enter. A scientist in a white coat entered, holding a strange looking device.

"This is a check. We've been monitoring this place for some time. Some of you are keeping odd hours. This raises suspicion that not all of you are human. Dr. Smith will scan each of you to determine what you are."

"And then what?" asked Giles defiantly. The head soldier eyed him before answering.

"Any non-humans will be taken to an internment camp for the time being, for their own safety, and the safety of those around them." Some scoobies exchanged nervous glances.

"Internment camps? You mean like you did with Japanese-Americans during The War?" The head soldier smirked.

"Sumthin' like that." The doctor started at one end of the line, with Giles, and waved what looked like a metal detector over Giles, looking at the readings on a small hand held screen.

"Human." As soon as he made the pronouncement, another soldier grabbed Giles roughly and pulled him aside. Dr. Smith moved onto Buffy, pronouncing her clear, doing the same with Xander and Lea, but knitted his brows when he came to Oz and Nina.

"Strange… they're human…but there's definitely something demonic about them… better take them to be safe." Four soldiers descended on the werewolves and grabbed their struggling forms.

"You can't do this!" shouted Giles in protest, only to be hit in the back of the head with the butt of a rifle. He sank to the floor, loosing consciousness. Buffy looked like she was about to do something, but the sound of a gun being cocked behind her made her stop. She clenched her jaw and remained passive. The Doctor moved on to Spike and Angel, who just looked on with gritted teeth.

"These two are vampires. Quite powerful ones, judging by the readings I'm getting, especially the dark haired one. I'd say they're about five hundred and three hundred respectively." Angel and Spike smirked at his error, each pleased they were so powerful as to be mistaken for much older masters. "Regardless, vampires are evil and are to be staked on site." The smirks vanished into cautionary stares.

"Do you really think we're going to let that happen?" asked Angel threateningly. The head soldier looked over at Buffy, who had a gun pointed at her.

"Are you going to let her die? If you resist, we'll shoot her."

"Hey! You're meant to be the good guys!" protested Xander. "What happened to protect and serve? You're talking about murdering a citizen!" The soldier shrugged.

"Yeah, well this is war, and some allowances have to be made. So, vampires, we can do this the easy way, or the hard way. Are you gonna let the girl die?" he said, getting right into Angel's face. Angel flashed the soldier a smirk, and in one lightning fast movement, spun the soldier around and got him in a strangle hold, his hand crushing the man's windpipe. Angel vamped out and snarled, unnerving the soldiers with his guttural growls. The soldiers' hands clawed at Angel's mighty arms, but he was far outmatched.

"Gee, looks like the tables have turned, Joe! I'm evil, remember? You think I care if you kill some of my food? The question you guys should be asking is how many of you can I kill before you get me?" he shouted, his amber eyes daring the other soldiers to try something. Nobody moved, though all the guns were pointed at Angel. There was a silence for a while, during which time each side contemplated the next move.

"You're bluffing," said the doctor. "We've been watching you. We know you have intimate relations with the girl. You too," he said to Spike, who scoffed.

"Yeah, doesn't mean we love her, mate. We've had thousands of partners, most of whom we killed afterward. So go on, take your best shot. You'll be dead before you get a chance to reload." Some of the soldiers looked nervous, obviously believing him, but the one they were talking to now, second in command, seemed confident.

"Take'em out!" A hail of bullets erupted, killing the soldier Angel was holding. Even before the body slumped to the ground, Angel was doing a back flip up to the balcony, trails of bullets following him. He landed on the rail and was hit several times in the chest. He quickly ducked behind one of the pillars, which was quickly chipped away at by more sustained fire.

Though Angel had been ready for the attack, Spike had not, and as soon as the guns required reloading, two soldiers were on Spike. One grabbed him, the other one brandishing a stake. Spike had been paying attention to Buffy, and wasn't able to stop the stake from plunging into his chest. Buffy saw the sharp bit of wood enter his chest, and she nearly exploded inside.

"SPIIIKE!"

In the hospital, Willow's eyes shot open and she gasped. She was jerked awake by an incredible feeling of despair and pain in her heart. It made her want to break down and die. She sat up shakily and swung her legs over the side of the bed. Her eyes were deep black and magic circled around her, infusing itself with her being. The last time she had felt this raw inside was when Tara had died. She instinctively knew there was trouble.

"Buffy…"

Spike snarled and ripped the stake out of his chest, head-butting the guy who had done it to him, causing him to crumple to the floor. He threw the one who was holding him across the room, where he slammed into the marble floor with a sickening crack. Wiping the blood from his mouth that was welling up from his lungs, he smirked.

"Missed the heart. It's half an inch to your left." The other soldiers had finished reloading by now, and pointed their guns again, this time at the human occupants. Things were about to get messy. They opened fire.

The bullets flew at the mortals, but stopped just millimetres from their bodies, suspended in midair. All their guns jammed suddenly. They stared down at them dumbly, seeing a strange mist encircle them. It entwined itself around their guns, eventually gripping them. The guns glowed red and melted in their hands, dripping to the floor. The soldiers roared in pain and tried to throw them to the ground, some succeeding, but some failing because the molten steel was covering them. One soldier who hadn't been holding a rifle withdrew a handgun and cocked it, aiming frantically around, trying to find something to shoot at.

"You shouldn't be killing innocent people," came a venomous voice from the door. He spun around and pointed the gun at Willow. She was leaning heavily on the doorway to support herself, panting deeply. Magic swirled around her like ribbons. It was visibly melting away from her, coming off in waves. He fired at her, but the bullet never left the gun. Instead, the pistol exploded, blowing his hand off in the process. He cried out in shock and pain, grabbing his arm with his other hand.

"Willow!" exclaimed Xander, not sure whether to be relieved or frightened. Her hair was still red, albeit a darker shade, and she wasn't veiny, but her manner disturbed him.

"Doc, what do we do!" shouted a soldier, looking at the scientist.

"She's a magic user. We need back up!" The soldier nodded and grabbed a walkie-talkie.

"This is gamma six! We're in the Hyperion Hotel and we have a class C situation! We need heavy back up!" There was some white noise, then a voice.

"Roger. We'll be there in a few seconds!" As soon as he was finished, the radio shattered into pieces, Willow having destroyed it with a look. One of the troops lunged at Willow, but was blown back by the force of her gaze.

"You fired on unarmed civilians!" said Willow with disgust. "Without a second thought! That's unforgivable." The doctor looked behind Willow, seeing a tank coming up behind her. It's turret swung around and took aim.

"And what are you going to do about it?"

The tank fired, and less than a second later there was a tremendous explosion, the shell hitting the hotel about halfway up, blowing a large part of it to smithereens.. A moment later, the ceiling caved in above Willow, burying her underneath tonnes of rubble, which piled up for metres. A hole leading right up to the roof was visible, the entire front of the hotel having collapsed.

"Alright men, let's get out of here!" shouted one. They all moved to escape, most of them painfully clutching their horrendously burnt hands and wrists. Before they could move, the rubble blew apart, rocks and broken plaster flying in all directions, but not a single mote of dust hitting any of the scoobies. The tank fired a second time, but Willow spun around and waved her hand at the incoming shell. It crumpled into nothingness, vanishing from the world. She gathered magic in her hand, summoning it into a ball, and threw it at the tank. As soon as the magic hit it, the tank exploded with great power, it's forty tonne carcass being launched several feet into the air. She looked around and could see another tank coming around the corner. In the distance, helicopters and jets could be heard. She knew that they'd be here soon, and while she was able to stop them all, she couldn't without killing many people.

"Guys, come on, we're leaving!" Willow said. The gang needed no further encouragement, all of them following Willow out of the destroyed exit. Once they were outside, Willow concentrated and warped them all to outside the city. They found themselves on a hill overlooking the vast urban expanse. It was a very cloudy day, so Angel and Spike were in no danger of getting sunburnt. Dozens of military aircraft were doing rounds over the city, a number of them concentrated over the Hyperion, though only Xander could make it out, thanks to his eye. Large sections of the city were burning out of control, huge clouds of smoking rising to mix with the real ones. After the shock wore off, the gang broke into talk, most of it focused on Willow.

"Willow, your ok!" exclaimed Buffy, relief washing over her. Willow felt great relief as well, though she wasn't sure it was her own. Something was wrong, and she certainly didn't feel ok.

"Yeah. What's going on guys, why were you being attacked?" That question sobered the gang, each realising that Willow didn't know what was happening.

"Will…" began Xander, moving closer to her, no knowing exactly how to tell her. "You've been in a coma for some time… since you battled with the senior partners. A lot's happened…"

"Like?" Willow prodded. Where to start, Xander wondered. Dawn dying, Buffy dying, nuclear war… the list went on.

"A lot," said Giles, who was rubbing his head, still sore from the blow. "Suffice to say, we were actually in the process of leaving the continent when those… hooligans showed up. I think leaving is more urgent than ever. I suggest we go to the airport right now and get a flight."

"Airport's closed," stated Spike.

"And that's been a problem since…?" shrugged Giles. Spike smiled devilishly at the watcher, impressed by his daring.

"Good point. And with Willow up and about, we could even fly east and not worry about being shot down. What about Illyria?" Buffy looked Spike in the eye, that name generating ill feeling.

"We'll have to go without her. She'll be fine by herself." Spike gritted his teeth. He didn't like it, but he knew there wasn't much else that he could do. He figured she'd arrive back at the hotel and find it destroyed, then come looking for him.

"Oz?" questioned Willow, only just noticing him. She'd been so caught up in the fight that his presences hadn't registered until now. He stepped forward.

"Hey," he said, smiling. "It's good to see you awake…It's good to see you-" Willow cut him off by pulling his much shorter form into a bear hug.

"Oz! It's good to see you! Man, I have been asleep for a while, haven't I? How've you been?" she asked. Pulling away, Oz looked her over with unsure eyes.

"Uhh…I've been good. Willow, you do know that you're still sheathed in magic, right?" She looked down, and gasped. Colourful magic was indeed ribbioning around her peacefully, the air crackling with energy.

"Oh… I'm not doing that… Giles, why am I doing that?" she rambled, a worried look on her face.

"Oh… umm… I-it appears that your… umm… power is … well, I don't know." Willow gave him an admonishing look, under which he regrouped his thoughts. "My best guess is that your power is so great that it's manifesting itself outside your body. Tell me, how are you feeling?" he asked, squinting at her slightly.

"Like… like I could do anything. I don't know how, but I'm stronger now than I was before. A lot stronger… I feel like I could kick some senior partner butt! I'm also kinda hungry…"

"There'll be food on the plane," commented Spike. "Of course, you mightn't be that hungry…" he shrugged. Willow smiled briefly, the grin turning into a worried frown when she looked hard at Buffy.

"What happened to your face?" Willow asked, referring to the raised scar Buffy branded on her cheek. Buffy touched it absentmindedly. "Oh god, I did that, didn't I? Buffy, I-" Buffy cut her off, holding her hands up.

"Don't worry about it Will, it's just a scratch. I even think it gives me character!" she lied. Buffy had pushed Willow to the limit. Buffy had nearly killed her friend by ordering her to fight. Buffy was the one who should be feeling guilty, and she was going to keep it that way. After insisting that Willow not worry about, Willow seemed pacified, and eventually got onto business.

"Ok, so onto business, shall we go? I'll magic us to the airport. Just stand around me." The scoobies moved closer to Willow, but Oz and Nina stayed back. Seeing this, Willow commented. "You guys coming or what?" Oz shook his head mutely.

"No. Nina and I have other obligations. We're on our way to Mexico. It's where our werewolf pack is. They went on ahead while we visited you guys, but we really should be getting back to them." Willow's heart fell, as did the hearts of the others. Their reunion had been too short and too filled with sorrow, and now there were parting once more.

"Oh…" Oz smiled at Willow.

"I know, we just met again, and now we're going. But we'll see each other again."

"I know."

The gang exchanged goodbyes, Willow, Buffy and Xander hugging Oz and wishing him the best. Nina stayed away mostly, just hugging Angel and nodding at Buffy. Oz and Nina intended to hitch hike the rest of the way to the border. It was a quiet affair, and when it was over, Oz and Nina stood aside as Willow cast a spell on the rest. Willow waved one last time at her only boyfriend, seeing him fade from sight as she was transported away.

With a rush, they found themselves at Los Angeles international airport. It was buzzing with activity, but not passengers. Cargo planes, fighter jets, helicopters and bombers littered the tarmac, the airport being the centre of military operations for the entire southern third of the state. As soon as they appeared, shouts followed, and many green clad soldiers started running towards them. "Over there!" shouted Buffy, pointing to a passenger liner sitting on one of the runways. Willow saw it and teleported them all onto it. She entered the cockpit and started it magically. The aircraft hummed to life and started forward. It was already facing the runway, so all that was necessary was to speed up, which it did with the assistance of magic, taking off far sooner than would have normally been possible. A few shots were fired at the renegade plane, but none hit their target, the bullets dissolving before impact. Up and up the plane went, the scoobies being pressed into their seats.

"Will, they're sending up fighters!" warned Xander, who spied several F-22 planes taking off in pursuit. Willow closed her eyes, and within moments, the planes failed due to engine trouble, falling back to the ground. "That'll do for now, by the looks of it, but there'll be more." Willow smirked uncharacteristically.

"Let them come. We're safe, and we'll soon be travelling at two thousand miles an hour, thanks to a little magical kick."

True to her word, as soon as the plane was level, it sped up quickly, breaking the sound barrier with ease. The danger over for now, the scoobies relaxed, letting their breathing and heart rates return to normal. A long time passed without conversation, everyone just getting used to the idea that they were escaping from a country where it was too dangerous. They were going to be refugees, a disconcerting thought. At some point along the way, Buffy filled Willow in on everything that had happened. Willow became very distressed, understandably crying when Buffy told her that Dawn was dead.

"I can't believe Dawn's dead…" Willow whispered, dismayed. Suddenly, she got a horrible feeling. "You don't blame me, do you?" she asked Buffy. Buffy was very surprised, and it showed, but she quickly shook her head vehemently.

"No. Not in the slightest. I-" she stopped, taking a breath. "If anyone is to blame, it's me…" Willow was deeply relieved that her best friend didn't think her responsible. Squinting at Buffy, she got a feeling of emptiness that she couldn't explain.

"You don't seem that bothered," said Willow tacitly. Buffy looked down, knowing it was true. In fact, she'd barely paid more than a thought to her sister all day. "And… I don't know how I know that! I just… know!"

"What, are you, like, reading my mind or something? Because that's not all it's cracked up to be."

"No," said Willow, shaking her head. "I woke up because I got this incredible feeling of loss and despair. It was so powerful it roused me from my sleep, and I instantly knew you were in trouble… it's almost like I'm reading your emotions. Buffy, I think I am reading your emotions!" she exclaimed.

"What, some kind of spell?" questioned Buffy uncomfortably. If Willow was indeed reading her emotions, she was bound to question why Buffy wasn't mourning over Dawn.

"No, I don't think so, because I couldn't be casting spells when I was asleep… what about before? You don't suppose that when I blasted you in Wolfram and Hart I forged some kind of link with you?" Buffy looked unsure, and was even kind of weirded out.

"Stranger things have happened… hell, similar things have happened. Ok, so you can sense my emotions… can you stop?"

Willow couldn't stop, as she discovered. In fact, the more the tried to stop, the stronger her link with Buffy became, though it was completely one sided. Giles could form little more than a weak hypothesis. After nearly an hour of group discussion, it was decided that they'd leave it for the time being, as a plane wasn't the place to even try to fix it. Eventually, after hours of flying over the ocean, land was spotted. Looking out the window, lights twinkled on the ground midst the darkness. Spike smiled, remembering the fun he'd had here in the 1980's.

"Ladies and Gents, I give you Amsterdam, our new home."

Illyria was in a tiny village. About a dozen distantly spaced, large one-storey houses lined the road, each with picket fences and driveways. It was a small road of little importance, fewer than twenty cars a day driving on it. Beyond the village was endless meadow. The odd farmhouse and red barn were visible in the distance, as were hills, the grass on them a golden brown.

Morphing into Fred, Illyria approached one of the houses. It had a large plot of grass around it, dotted with several trees. She walked up the driveway and opened the door. "Hello? Mom? Dad?" she called out in Fred's voice as she looked around.

"Fred?" came her mother's surprised voice from the kitchen. Soon thereafter, Trish came around the corner. She smiled broadly when she saw her daughter standing before her. "Fred!" she said joyously, pulling Illyria into a hug, which the demon-in-disguise returned after a moment of hesitation. She wasn't sure what she should be feeling, but a sense of security overcame her. She felt happy. Pulling away, Trish appraised her daughter. Illyria was wearing a simple beige top, a short frilly purple skirt, and sandals. "It's good to see you! Where've ya bin? We called the office a few weeks ago, but there wasn't any answer!" Illyria smiled a large, embarrassed smile.

"Oh, we kinda got fired for trying to kill our bosses. They turned out to be pretty evil," Illyria said with a ditzy laugh, mimicking Fred so perfectly she could have fooled herself. Trish knitted her brows.

"Evil? Are y'all ok?" Illyria's face fell. She shook her head.

"No. Wesley…he's dead," she said sadly, genuine hurt still nagging her. Trish pulled Illyria into another hug.

"Oh I'm so sorry, baby. I know you two had eyes for each other," she mourned, stroking Illyria's back lovingly. Illyria actually took comfort from the action. She took a deep mental breath, ready to tell Trish more.

"There's…something else. Something happened to me…" Trish pulled back suddenly, fear and worry in her eyes. Of course, her daughter was standing in front of her, so it couldn't be too bad, she reasoned. "I…I breathed in some mummy dust, and…oh boy, you're probably going to find this hard to believe, but…I'm sharing my body with a demon. Right now. As we speak…" Trish stared blankly at her, trying to comprehend what she was being told.

"Right…now?" she queried with a sceptical eye. Illyria nodded. "It's not a bug demon, is it?" Illyria laughed and shook her head.

"No. It's an ancient demon. This is the part you mightn't like…I'm not…sharing, as such. It isn't the right word. It's more like…I've melded with it. We were two, and now I'm one," Illyria said gravely, looking expectantly at Trish. She hoped that the shell's mother would react positively. The reason she'd come here was to try and come to terms with some of her emotions. She believed that the best way to do that was to be around family. She didn't want to lie to them, as lying was something she just didn't do, but she couldn't tell them the whole truth without crushing them, so she decided a half truth would have to do. She prayed she'd get results.

"You're still my daughter, aren't you?" Trish asked gravely, her voice fearful.

"Of course! I love you mom!" Illyria proclaimed. There was more truth in the words than she would have liked. She didn't love this woman, but she had an attachment to her she couldn't shake. "I'm still your daughter. I'm just…also a gazillion year old former god-king of the universe," she insisted perkily with a grin. "Pretty cool, huh?" Trish eyed Illyria for a second more before accepting it. The person in front of her was too much like Fred to not be her daughter. All doubt expelled from her mind, she led Illyria into the kitchen, where lunch was being cooked.

"Well, just so long as you're happy and safe, I'm not worried. You want some lunch? You must be hungry!" Illyria gazed at the frying pan, where mince was sizzling.

"Are ya making tacos?" Illyria asked hopefully, spying some taco shells on the counter. Trish nodded.

"Yep. Just let me put more mince down; I wasn't expecting you so there's only enough for one at the moment," she said apologetically, getting more from the fridge and putting it into another pan. "Your father is at work. He won't be home 'til seven. In the mean time, you can fill me in on everything that's happened since we last saw you-" Trish suddenly had a thought that nagged her. "Say, when we saw you, that was before you fused with this demon, right?" Illyria looked at the table where she sat, unsure what to say. She decided to just go ahead with the half-truth.

"No. I'm really, really sorry I didn't tell you, but it was still pretty new to me then, and I was kinda coming to terms with it myself. Also, I didn't want to spoil your vacation…" Trish sat down grasped Illyria's face between her hands.

"You should have told us then…but I guess I can understand why you didn't. And suddenly I understand why Wesley brought us into his office and said there was something we needed to know about you…why would he do that, rather than let you tell us?" She mulled over it for a while, releasing Illyria and scratching her head.

"It's because I…I can look…different. At the time I was still trying to get used to my new powers-"

"Powers? You have powers? What, you're like a superhero or something?" Illyria mouth remained open for a moment as she decided on what to say next.

"Yeah. I can freeze time, jump dimensions…talk to plants. And I'm as strong as superman," Illyria confessed with a giggle. Trish raised an eyebrow.

"Talk to plants? What good is that?"

"You'd be surprised," she said in deadpan, her tone momentarily reverting to the cold voice of Illyria. Realising she had made her first mistake at acting, she tried to cover it up with bubbliness.

"So, do you wanna see what I look like in demon mode?" Illyria chirped. "No tentacles, I promise. It's not really that impressive. I just go a little blue." Trish looked unsure. She realised that seeing her daughter transform into her demon form might be more than a bit shocking. She'd taken it very well so far, surprising herself. But with her daughter so clearly her daughter, how could she not?

"O-ok. Go ahead. But if I git a heart attack I'm blamin' you!" she chided. Illyria smiled and closed her eyes. She'd dispense with the red suit this time. Such tight leather would probably scandalise her mother far more than being a demon. She caught herself suddenly, as though she'd committed a heinous crime. She had just referred to this woman as her mother. Not the shell's mother, hers. Shaking her head, she banished the thought from her head for the time being, focusing on transforming. Her hair, eyes, lips and forehead became dark acrylic blue. Her bare arms and legs were also streaked with blue, right down to her bare toes. Opening her eyes, she saw her mother looking her up and down.

"That's it?" she asked. Trish had been expecting something more dramatic. "You look like you belong in The Blueman Group." Illyria wasn't sure who The Blueman Group were, but she decided not to take offence. She knew this woman was not trying to offend her. "Although it is kinda sexy. You should try picking up guys like that!" she suggested mischievously.

"Mom!" Illyria admonished. "Shame on you. And besides…I already tried…it didn't work out. He was taken…" Trish tilted her head sympathetically and rested a reassuring hand on her daughter's blue-tinted knee.

"Don't worry sweetie, I'm sure the right guy will come along. After all, you're still young."

"I'm older than humanity now, remember?" she said wryly. Trish rolled her eyes.

"Well, you look great, and that's what counts to a young man! How about that Angel? He's tall, handsome, and he won't get old on you…" Illyria shook her head.

"No, he's taken too. 'Sides, I don't think about him that in that way. I like my guys about a hundred years younger…"

They continued to talk and laugh and reminisce for hours. Illyria eventually wanted to visit Fred's room, so she excused herself. Trish decided to start making dinner for Illyria, herself and Roger so that it would be ready when he came home. Illyria gathered all the pictures that littered the house, bringing them to her room. She sat down on the ground at the foot of the bed, cross-legged and with all the photographs splayed out around her. She examined each of them carefully, conjuring up the memory of the particular one she was studying, then moving on to the next one. She could feel the emotions Fred had felt: the love, the compassion, the security. Illyria found herself wanting to know these things for herself, instead of having to borrow them from another.

As she thought of what would happen to Fred's parents if they found out the truth, that their daughter's soul had been destroyed forever, she found herself aching inside. A single tear made its way down her cheek. She swore that she would never tell them. She would lie to them until their deaths to save them from such sorrow. "Fred?" came her fathers voice from down the hall. Wiping the tear from her face, she stood up and smiled, excited that her father was home.

"Coming daddy!"

Next chapter, the gang get used to their new home. What will Illyria do next? It might be a while, as my new target length is at least 9000 words per chapter. Don't forget to review and tell me what you thought.