Chapter twenty-one, here it is! Thanks for the reviews, alerts and favourites. You guys are all excellent. Also, I'm a beta now! Just putting it out there, if anyone needs beta-ing. :D This is, for me, an early post. I couldn't wait, I had to get it out there!
As always, read and enjoy!

"Angel?" Cordy asked as she heard footsteps echo in the hotel. "Is that you?"

"Cordy?" the voice responded, answering her question. "Why are you still here?"

Cordy shrugged, then realised that he was facing the opposite way. His shoulders were tensed and he held a broadsword in his right hand, examining his weapons cabinet. "Fumigation at my apartment. I figured you could spare one of your sixty six rooms or whatever for a night."

"Okay," Angel replied, turning to face her with a blank expression. "Do you need anything?"

Shaking her head, his best friend assured him that she was fine. "You do, though." Angel raised an eyebrow, unsure of what she meant. Cordy raised her hand and pointed to his attire with distaste. "You need a shower."

Angel examined the translucent goo staining his shirt. He brushed two fingers against it and recoiled when the smell reached his nose. "Oh."

"You okay big guy?" she asked, looking more sincere.

He responded to this with the shrug he had been using every time a question of that nature was asked. "Do I not look okay? Or," he paused, the smell still lingering in his nostrils. "Do I not seem okay?"

Cordy shot him a knowing look. "I'm a seer. That doesn't just mean I get visions of people I've never met; I can see you. You're in some serious Buffy-induced pain here. Again."

Angel shed his jacket, throwing it carelessly to his right. He said nothing.

"One of these days you're going to have to learn to respond to anything related to a certain abolisher of all evil residing in Sunnydale. With words."

"What do you want me to say?"

"Anything."

"Fine," Angel glowered at her, "I don't want to talk about it. There's something."

"Are we going to have another Darla repeat? Because I'm not moving out again. You leave this time."

Angels' glower increased in ferocity before he turned around and walked up the stairs.

Cordy sighed and resumed her word puzzle. She yelled at his retreating back; "Eight letters! Synonym for officious!"

"Cordelia!" Angel snapped back.

By the time she had looked up what it meant, her chance for a witty retort had passed, so she simply glared at the jacket on the floor belonging to the offender.

"Angel?" the vampire spat the name as though it were a particularly offensive term. The word failed to roll of his tongue so much as it was shoved eagerly off of it. He directed his questions towards Willow, hoping for some sort of answer. "What does anything have to do with that ponce?"

When Willow shook her head guiltily Spike proceeded forward and grabbed her arm. Not with enough force to cause pain or with any intention so, but as a way of gaining her full attention.

"What's happening?" he asked, with a hint of something more than his usual dejectedness.

"Buffy," Willow instructed the girl, "I think you should go to bed. I'm going to talk to Spike."

Buffy rejected her advice on the simple basis of not appreciating being spoken to like a child. "No, I'm good."

Willow gritted her teeth, resisting the urge to cast a spell on her friend. It wasn't anything big, just a little sleeping spell. What could go wrong with that? What could go wrong; that was a loaded question. Without consciously allowing it, Willow was reminded of the events that transpired in L.A., and – forsaking any magical aid – asked her friend very sweetly this time. "Buffy, could you please go to your room? Or," she corrected, realising they were in her room, "Let Spike and I talk in private?"

Buffy shrugged in surrender. "I'll go watch some trash on the tube. Has TV gotten any better while I was out?"

Sensing that her light heartedness was probably impertinent, Buffy shrugged once more and proceeded down the stairs.

"Okay Red; what's the what, you and your witch done some kind of spell?" Spike didn't look angry, just hesitant to believe.

Willow took a deep breath, deciding not to advise Spike to take a seat. "Do you remember those biker demons, a few months ago?"

The pictures from the television flashed before Buffy's eyes, but she was intently focused on the dancing light that obscured her vision from behind her eyelids. She sat back and closed her eyes, knowing that there was something just beyond her reach that she was missing. Her mind tried to clamp down on the blurred lines and feather-light touches that circled just outside of her consciousness. She was closer to herself now, but she wasn't sure that – sitting there, being teased and taunted by the ghosts of memories she couldn't have – this was a better alternative.

"I love this show," Dawn said animatedly, bounding onto the lounge and picking up the remote to increase the volume to an offensive level.

Buffy's eyes snapped open, all phantoms lurking in her mind retreating into the unreachable black. With nothing to grab onto, she returned to the present in annoyance. "I wasn't really watching it."

"Spike loves it," laughed Dawn in what was probably supposed to be a teasing manner. "Spike's the one Willow told you about in L.A.," she clarified.

"I met him," Buffy grumbled.

"Whoa, when?" Dawn asked her, tearing her eyes away from the program that was apparently not too engaging after all.

"Just then. Vampire, stringy… radioactive blonde?" Buffy pulled at her own locks to demonstrate, "Cheekbones up to here?" she raised her hands to her eyes and watched Dawn laugh, "Drunk?"

Dawn nodded, then drew her attention to the last description. "Drunk?"

"Yeah, he got into my bed. He thought I was a robot or a dream, or something equally high up on the 'things-Buffy-isn't' list."

Dawn stared at the stairs with what looked to Buffy like affectionate concern and after a second she realised it wasn't for her. "Is he still up there? Do you need me to deal with him?"

"No, Willow's turning him into a toad."

"What?!" Dawn jumped up quickly, racing for the stairs. "She wouldn't!"

"I kid. Did I swap a sense of humour for super-strength?" Buffy asked mildly.

Dawn levelled her gaze to meet Buffy's. "That's what I've been saying for years."

Buffy looked thoughtful for a moment, and Dawn knew not to speak. "I still need to talk to everyone."

Dawn sighed. "You're not changing your mind about this, are you?"

Buffy shook her head. "No. You think you can handle another trip?"

Dawn, although touched by Buffy's suggestion that she join her in L.A., couldn't say yes. "Willow got a call tonight from my principal. I'm on some kind of school watch, and apparently if I miss any more school they have to have some kind of meeting about me."

Buffy appeared concerned. "Why?"

Dawn wasn't sure whether to laugh or look embarrassed. She decided the latter would be more prudent. "I did some fighting."

"I thought I was supposed to be the violent one!"

Dawn smiled dryly. "You fight your demons, I fight mine."

Before Buffy could reply, Willow and Spike descended the stairs. Buffy stood automatically, reaching into her pocket for a stake that wasn't there. She fought off her instincts as she held her ground in the face of the approaching vampire. She had enough practice with that anyway, didn't she? She had been in love with a vampire, certainly at one time. That warranted some level of domination of her senses. She could trust herself.

"Buffy, um," Willow started as Spike stood beside her, his eyes never leaving Buffys'. "This is Spike. The one I told you about; the one that helps us."

Buffy nodded and stuck out her hand, figuring that was the best thing to do. Spike grasped onto it slowly, not moving his hand so much as moulding to hers. She felt like all of the warmth she held inside her had transferred into his eyes, which stared into hers with fervent intensity that made her want to blush or put on a jacket. She also made a mental note to ask someone at some point; did she slay vampires, or flirt them to death?

The Magic Box was as busy as ever. Under Anya's ownership – or, depending on who you spoke to, in spite of it – it thrived. When Giles returned to his store, all hell broke loose. The ex-Watcher suspected somewhat that if Anya hadn't hung up her proverbial demon-hat, that phrase would have been a little too literal for his liking.

"Giles" Anya greeted him, grinning. "It's good to see you! You can't have your store back."

Giles chuckled. "Yes, I know. Hello Anya. How are things going?" He peeked towards the underparts of the counter, enquiring about the logbook and their monthly sales.

"Quite well," Anya replied, hastily blocking his view of the counter. "Have you seen Buffy yet?"

He looked somewhat disheartened. "Yes, yes I have. She's… I'm afraid she's going to have to retake some, if not all of her training. I can't, in good conscience, let her continue her duties without at least the crucial points of her training with her."

"That makes sense. We don't want her to die again, because everyone was sad and didn't know what to do."

Giles, musing on how the voice of simplicity was sometimes the wisest, agreed with her with a resigned nod of his head that was more his lowering of his eyes to surfacing tears and, inevitably, tend to his glasses. "Yes. Exactly."

The front door tinkled, and Giles and Anya saw Buffy, Dawn, Willow, Xander and Anya walk through it; the thing that drew Giles' attention foremost was the solid look of determination on Buffy's face, and the opposite one of defeat on the others.

"Giles?" was the first thing Buffy said. "Do you drive?"

Giles responded affirmatively. "Why?"

"I need to go to L.A."

"Buff," Xander pleaded, "Maybe we should talk about this first."

"What's happened?" Giles asked, concerned.

"Buffy thinks–" Dawn began.

"Knows," Buffy corrected gently.

"Okay, knows that there's something in L.A. that she needs to…" Dawns' voice faded as she realised she wasn't aware of what exactly Buffy was supposed to do.

"Fight," her sister finished for her, her determination not giving an inch.

"Is everyone else thinking what I am?" Xander asked the room. "Maybe… Broody vampire? About so high?" he lifted his hand slightly above his head.

"This isn't about Angel," Buffy snapped. Then, apologetically, she continued; "Something has been telling me I need to be there. Like one of those dreams, but different."

"Buffy, there's someone or something working some serious mojo on your mind. You don't think that maybe this could, y'know, be a trap?" Willow asked, sharing a worried look with Xander behind the Slayers' back.

"No. This feels real."

"We just got back," Xander pointed out with exasperation. "And Dawn can't leave. How long do you think you'll be gone for? A week? A month? A year?"

Buffy looked straight at him, daring him to challenge her further. "As long as it takes."

"And Dawn's just left in Scooby daycare again? 'Have fun sweetie, I'll pick you up when I'm done, see you next month, you know, if I'm not dead'?"

"Of course not!" Buffy protested, anger seeping into her voice. "I need to do this. I'm not running off for a vacation. This is about what's right."

Xander tried one, last avenue in his attempt to make her see sense. "Buffy, you do kind of have a history of sore spots where Angel's concerned. I think you know that, memory or not."

"This has nothing to do with Angel!" she repeated, all but stamping her foot down in her frustration. This didn't have anything to do with Angel, it was about the voice whispering at the back of her mind; the one that was there all the time, telling her she needed to be in L.A., telling her that people would suffer if she didn't. Angel was just a... bonus. A big, brooding bag of bonus.

"So who would you stay with when you went to L.A.?" Xander asked, knowing that he had her beaten. After months of watching Dawn – along with the rest of them – suffer quietly, any threat to her happiness set off the overprotective brother mode in him. The bitterness he felt towards Angel, though not completely gone, had subsided with distance and time put between them. Seeing Buffy, back into her old life for only two days, wanting to rush off to L.A. again closed the gap between petty, jealous high school Xander and engaged, employed, passive Xander quite nicely.

Buffy knew, as he did, that she had been beaten in that respect. "Where else would I stay? That doesn't mean he's my material reason for leaving in the first place." Just a big, broody bonus.

"Except for the part where he kind of is," Willow piped in. "We're not judging you, and we'll do what we can to help you, but Angel… it just, it never ends well. We don't want to see you like that again. Be careful."

Buffy nodded coldly. "Giles, can you help me research something called 'Sahjhan' on the way?"

Giles, though not eager to leave so soon, trusted Buffy's judgement – and dreams – for the time being. "Would you like to pack some things?" he asked, necessary reading materials.

"No," she replied, "I brought a bag. Willow," Buffy returned to the witch, "I'm going to need you to come with me to help, just in case we need some magic."

"Okay, now I'm objecting. Find someone else," Xander demanded, "Willow's not up to it."

Willow glowered. "You think I'm not up to a little magic?"

"I think you're up to a lot of magic, and I think that's the problem."

Buffy understood. "You're right. Giles, how much magic can you do?"

"Very little, and very basically. But I understand that Wesley is among Angel's comrades in L.A., perhaps he could aid us?"

"Okay." She shuffled towards Dawn, with her guilt evident. Buffy wrapped her arms around her, wishing that Dawn could rest her head comfortably on her neck, not the other way around. She warmed to her sister and cherished the physical connection she felt; it was almost like having her mother back again. "I'm sorry I'm leaving again. I'll kill this Sahjhan thingy and be back as soon as I can, 'kay?"

Dawn wiped tears away from her face with the tattered sleeve of her favourite jacket. "I just got you back."

Buffy smiled. "I am back. I'll be back. Soon."

"I'm sorry, if I've hurt you in the past," she said to Xander. "But I know I'm right."

Xander shrugged. "Same old Buffy."

Willow knew by now that she wasn't going to win, or be able to come to L.A. She settled for: "Call me if you need me."

"I will," Buffy promised, her arms still wrapped around Dawn. With a kiss on her sisters' forehead, the Slayer prepared for departure.

"You'd better not have a red, shiny, two door mid-life crisis waiting for us," she teased her Watcher, having seen his car before she had entered.

"No," Giles assured her with some amusement, "Of course not."

The two travelled all night and talked all night. By the time Buffy arrived in L.A., she was far better acquainted with her Watcher, her past and those around her. She learned how she had died along with why and what Dawn was. Giles hadn't felt the need to explain that she should have remembered Dawn from her earlier years, hoping that the trip to L.A. would prove useful in her memory recovery and he wouldn't need to.

"Wait," she hesitated as they stopped in front of the Hyperion. "I forgot to call."

Giles thought for a moment. "I think your mission necessitates impertinence."

Buffy made a sour face. "Do they all talk like that back in the Motherland?"

"No, the rest of them are terribly pompous and over-articulate."

"Oh," Buffy said, very sarcastically. "Good, had me worried for a sec there."

Buffy approached the building nervously. What if Angel didn't want to see her? What if he didn't want her there? She stemmed the flow of panic, reminding herself that she had a mission. He would understand that. She didn't know if that made her feel any better or worse.

"Can you…?" Buffy pointed to the door, childishly backing away from it herself as though it were a poisonous snake. Humouring her, he knocked on the door and waited for someone to open it.

"Ah, the lady is home." The demon smiled broadly. She had never met him in person, but Buffy knew who this was: an apparition from her dreams, now in physical form.

"Sahjhan," she spat, throwing a punch that he caught and countered twice. Her body ached to fold as his concrete fist met her abdomen, then her lip, but her instincts ensured that she stood tall. Breathing in deeply, she pivoted and sent the other foot flying at his head. It made contact, and the demon stumbled backward. Buffy lurched forward in what she had intended to be a follow up blow, but her bruised ribs would not allow her to move in any substantial way.

"You are strong. We have a meeting, you and I," he told her in a matter-of-fact voice, apparently unfazed by the headshot she had delivered. "But not tonight. The father ought to have killed the son, but instead I've you."

"I guess I'm unpredictable that way," she replied, her nonchalance failing it's purpose due to the blood that dribbled from her mouth and the pain that was knitted in her brows.

"Yes," he finished, shoving Giles aside as though he were a rag doll. He fled – or meandered comfortably from – the premises as Buffy rushed to her Watchers' side.

"Are you okay?" she asked, panicked, searching for a bone sticking up the wrong way or large, purple bruise. Bruises wouldn't show up that soon, would they?

"I'm fine." He lifted himself up with minimal difficulty and Buffy let out a sigh of relief that she hadn't known she had been holding in.

Her lungs filled to maximum capacity once again when she saw the person standing in the lobby. Angel stood; glad but not altogether surprised to see her. He nursed his arm at a delicate angle and his left cheekbone was cut. With a limp, he hobbled over to her and checked for injuries. "Are you hurt?" he asked her, then Giles.

"Fine," she said, thinking that it was probably the word of the day. "What happened?"

"I don't know. He came in, asked where the girl was, but Cordy had gone home already; I told him I didn't know. I didn't realise he meant you."

"And then he decided that you were just as good a punching bag as any?"

"Something like that."

Regardless of the circumstances, Buffy was unable to hold her smile at bay. It was small, but it was something. She levelled her gaze, trying to keep her eyes from his injuries, and gave him a slight smile that, for once, reached her eyes. It was difficult to remember that she wasn't here for this, and that it wasn't about Angel. Willow's voice echoed in her mind. 'Except for the part where he kind of is.'

"Angel," Giles said, "It's good to see you again. Unfortunate circumstances."

Angel smiled lopsidedly, compensating for the cut on his cheek. "Yeah. What was that?"

"Sahjhan. Something Buffy has been, er, dreaming about. May I use your phone? I should let Willow and Xander know that we arrived… safely." Giles looked like he didn't think the word fit very appropriately.

"By all means. Call Wesley, while you're at it. He may be able to help you."

Giles had fully intended to call Wesley, and was glad when he was pointed towards the phone and phonebook on the desk.

"What does he want?" Angel asked, not entirely comfortable with the gender he had bestowed upon the demon. 'It' felt much more appropriate. That, or a number of four letter words he had been holding inside when he had realised that Buffy within earshot.

"Buffy, as far as we can tell," Giles replied.

"That makes two of us," the vampire muttered under his breath a moment later, Slayer hearing forgotten.

"What?" responded Giles distractedly, holding the receiver to his ear and tapping the desk impatiently.

"Nothing."

He didn't see it, but Giles caught the look Buffy sent Angel. The Watcher had a feeling that their trip to L.A. would contain more than fighting for the two. Hopefully, he thought with amusement, it would be a trip to remember.

Okay, the lady is back. Now that we're through with all of the necessary Sunnydale greetings and goodbyes, Buffy and Angel can start figuring out how to fight Sahjhan... together. I'm sad that I didn't get to write a full-on fight scene here, because I've discovered that I actually love writing them, but they shall come soon. I know Xander was a bit bratty in this chapter, but someone had to bring up Buffy's soft spot for Angel, and Xander seemed like the one to do it, what with his past feelings for Angel. That's about it, nothing much else to say, except, FINALLY, they're together again! Giles is not okay with Buffy and Angel, but he's hopeful that Angel may help recover her memory (seeing as Willow didn't have time to fill him in); I'll deal with it later.
If you liked it, let me know. Reviews don't take long, and I love them.
Thanks for reading!