The Wishverse Chronicles

by hgh

The Buffy from the Wishverse gets pulled into Sunnydale. After the initial confusion gets sorted out, she returns to her own universe and her duty as the Slayer there.

3. A Matter Of Trust

A Matter of Trust

Wishverse Chapter 3

Disclaimer: All the characters in this story are a part of Joss Whedon's "Buffy, the Vampire Slayer" no infringement on anyone's rights was intended by borrowing them for this story.

Author's Note: It's not really necessary to have read the first two chapters of the Wishverse to understand this story. All you really need to know that this is set in the Universe first introduced by the third season Episode "The Wish". In the first chapter "Doppelganged Again" the Wishverse Buffy got drawn into the regular Buffyverse when Anyanka made another try to retrieve her necklace (set after "Doppelgangland" but before "Enemies"). Because of her stay there the fight at the end of "The Wish" ended with the Master's death, while Buffy and Angel both survived.

The only other fact you need to know to understand this story is that the Buffyverse Buffy not only filled her counterpart in on everything that had happened to her since coming to Sunnydale (which was the point where the two universes divided), but also warned her about the Cruciamentum.

* * 1 * *

Wesley Wyndham-Price threw another look at the young girl occupying the passenger seat of the black mini-van he was driving.

Six months since he had found her living on the streets of Philadelphia, dirty and undernourished. Nine months since her second Watcher had been killed and the Council had lost any contact with the current Slayer.

At first his report that he had found the missing Slayer had been dismissed out of hand. Most of the Council members were sure that she must have been killed, out there alone without a Watcher's guidance. But none of the carefully guarded potential Slayers had manifested the powers that would have been proof positive of the previous Slayer's death.

They had waited over a month before the Council had authorized him to become the girl's Watcher. More, he suspected, to put an end to his endless calls on her behalf, than because they truly believed that he had indeed found the lost Slayer.

That changed after Buffy cleared out the big group of vampires that had made the New York subway system their home, and did so under the very eyes of a couple of members of the Watcher's Council.

After that he had been sent weapons, money, and orders for the Slayer to go to Washington, D.C. to help the group of demon fighters there.

Unfortunately that mission hadn't gone nearly as well.

To his relief the Slayer had heeded his orders and listened impassively as the Council reprimanded her for her failure to protect the land's highest official. He had been afraid that she would repeat her preposterous claim that the President had been there as the demons' guest, and had been killed when the dark ritual he had been participating in had backfired because of the Slayer's interference.

It was bad enough that she had been unable to rescue the man from the demons' clutches, there was no need to drag a dead man's reputation into the dirt to make herself look better.

That incident had earned him his first lecture by Mr. Travers on his duties and responsibilities as the Slayer's Watcher.

"I know you are at a disadvantage because Ms. Summers was not properly prepared before being called as the Slayer," Travers had assured him, "and I am sure that a lot of the discipline that Ms Houser managed to instill in her was lost over the three months she spent without proper supervision. But I can't stress enough how vitally important it is that a Watcher be in *full* control of his Slayer at all times. Her enhanced abilities make the Slayer into a lethal weapon. That makes her most effective in our fight against the minions of hell, but that very effectiveness is why she *must* be kept under the tightest control at all times."

With that, he handed Wesley an old, handwritten book. "What is contained in this book isn't general knowledge, and for good reason. It chronicles the last days of Maria Montgarret and shows all too clearly the devastating destruction that an out-of-control Slayer is capable of."

"But I thought Maria Montgarret died from the poisonous sting of a Manticore?" Wesley asked a bit surprised.

Travers gave him a ponderous nod. "It is true that Maria was stung by a Manticore in Morocco, but what is not mentioned in the official chronicles is that while the poison will kill a regular human within a matter of hours, it affects a Slayer a bit differently. Maria cut a bloody swath across Tangier, and even managed to cross into Spain before she was finally brought down by a group of twenty-five Watchers. Only two of them survived."

"But if her behavior resulted from the Manticore poison..." Wesley objected.

"Yes, that is why it was left out of the official chronicles. No one knew that the poison would affect a Slayer in this way. Stanton Hurst was an exceptionally dedicated Watcher. So as not to blemish his sterling reputation, the Council chose to keep the details from general knowledge, only adding the stricture that any Slayer stung by a Manticore is to be killed instantly, so as to prevent future Watchers from repeating Hurst's mistake." Travers told him. "But it illustrates quite clearly what an out of control Slayer is capable of. A Slayer *has* to be kept under control for her own good as well as that of the rest of the world."

It had made perfect sense. He only had to remember the way Buffy had been living when he had found her. A Slayer clearly needed a Watcher's strict guidance, and her Watcher could never let himself forget that this was not a regular human being with whom he was dealing. She was a Slayer. She couldn't be expected to react the same as regular humans, and so couldn't be treated as one.

In the beginning it had been easy enough to see her as nothing but a weapon to use in the fight against the demons threatening to overrun the world. With the way she had refused to talk about anything but the next night's slayage, had never shown any emotions when confronted with one of the demons' human victims, she had seemed barely human anyway.

But the last couple of weeks in Sunnydale had made him look at Buffy Summers differently, and he still wasn't exactly sure how or why.

It had all started with a late night phone call from Mr. Giles, who had been fired from the Watchers years ago for letting his over-active imagination run away with him. His clearly exaggerated reports of what was happening in the town he had been stationed at had been a running joke at Council Headquarters, together with the fact that he kept filing them for months after having been officially terminated as a member.

Wesley and the leader of the newly arrived Watcher Swat Team had had a few good laughs at Giles' expense while they were packing for their move to Cleveland. He hadn't even noticed Buffy's absence until they were about to leave and she was nowhere to be found. He had sent the Team ahead while he tracked his Slayer to Sunnydale.

He had never intended for them to stay there, but the Team had successfully taken care of the Cleveland problem, and to his surprise he had found that the situation in Sunnydale was every bit as bad as Mr. Giles had painted it in his reports. He really couldn't fault Buffy for wanting to stay. She was the Slayer; she couldn't very well turn her back on that many demons. And the Council had agreed that ordering her to ignore such a nest of demons would be detrimental to the Slayer's discipline. But they had told him to make sure that she had no contact with Mr. Giles.

That had proved not only impractical but downright impossible. And now he suddenly had a totally different Slayer to deal with.

He had once read a story about a statue coming to life, and as fanciful as that idea sounded in his own ears, that was exactly what had happened to Buffy during their short stay with the Sunnydale White Hats.

It wasn't so much her sudden change in her style of clothing. She still looked the same, right down to the last scar. Her powers and fighting style were the same, but suddenly she moved with a new energy, and a new life had replaced the dead look in her eyes.

She had also become rather headstrong. As often as not, she simply ignored his orders, undermining his authority as the leader of their little group to the point where the others had begun to follow her example.

She made jokes; she smiled. He could swear he had even seen her blush once or twice when one of the others had complimented her on her style of dress or the way she had dealt with one of her opponents.

He was worried how the Council representatives would react to these changes in his Slayer just when they had come to witness the rite of passage given to all Slayers on the occasion of their 18th birthday.

It did nothing to ease his mind that Buffy seemed to have had some warning premonitions this trip to Franton. Her hints of poisons and having to face an enemy much stronger then herself had unsettled him enough that he had made a special inquiry to the Watcher's Council.

He had been told that Franton had been picked precisely because it was one of the few demon free places left in California. Mr. Travers himself would be present to make sure that everything proceeded according to plan, so if his Slayer was really as good as he reported her to be, he had no reason to worry about her.

Checking the map one last time, he turned off the paved road and onto a little used track that led up towards an out-of-the-way valley in the mountains to the east of Sunnydale.

As they neared Franton, he noticed numerous deserted houses along the road. If demons avoided this valley, why hadn't it turned into a refuge for humans?

He was beginning to get as bad a feeling about this as Buffy, who had been sitting beside him in grim silence ever since they had left Sunnydale.

* * 2 * *

Buffy watched Wesley as he nervously rearranged the crystals sitting on the table between them.

"So, what's the big emergency? They not only called us away from a place overrun by demons but flew in a bunch of Watchers directly from England, as well. Must be pretty desperate." Buffy waited, curious to hear his answer.

"I don't know the specifics yet." Wesley answered her slowly, playing with an oddly shaped piece of rose quartz.

"Well, don't you think it strange that all the people that used to live here suddenly decided to pack up and leave? There has to be some kind of record somewhere of what happened here. You would think that with all the Watchers here someone would have found out by now?" Buffy asked him innocently.

Wesley frowned and put down the rose quartz. "It isn't the Slayer's place to question the Council. Now, you see this crystal here? Look for the flaw at its center."

Buffy pretended to concentrate on the bright blue crystal while carefully focusing her eyes on a spot on the table just in front of it.

"Last night on patrol, I came across several human skeletons. Looked like they killed each other." Buffy told him.

"Skeletons? Where?" Wesley asked alarmed.

"On the farm just north of town. There were animal skeletons as well. A bunch of dead chickens in the chicken coop and what looked like a couple of dogs, one out in the yard, the other in the house next to one of the dead humans. Nothing that looked like the remains of a demon though." Buffy told him. "And a lot of the houses in town show signs of a fight. You know, broken furniture, discarded weapons and the occasional dried up blood satins - no more skeletons though."

Wesley opened and closed his mouth several times but remained silent, a stunned expression spreading across his face.

"You didn't know?" Buffy asked.

"I - I -" Wesley stuttered. "I - did you tell Mr. Travers about this?"

Buffy shook her head. "A Slayer reports to and takes orders from her Watcher only." Buffy quoted the Slayer's Handbook to him. "But they would have to know about it, don't you think? Why else would we've been called here?"

Buffy waited expectantly for his answer, but Wesley only ran one hand through his hair distractedly.

"Let's leave this for now." He said gesturing at the crystals. "This may well be more important."

On his way to the door he turned and added almost as an afterthought: "Why don't you make another sweep of the valley, see what else you can find. - Make sure to take some weapons, and be careful. We don't know *what* might be out there!"

Buffy watched him thoughtfully as the door closed behind him. Wesley had seemed almost relieved that their lesson had been interrupted. Mr. Giles, her alter ego's Watcher, had rebelled against the Council over the Cruciamentum. Dare she hope that Wesley would actually stand up for her to the Council in this matter?

* * *

Buffy followed a narrow path that led higher into the mountains, driven by the feeling that there was someplace she needed to be and that time was running short. Twilight was beginning to settle over the valley when she spotted the warm light of a fire flickering in the distance. For a moment she stood, undecided.

The cold, rational part of her mind told her that it was getting late, she should be making her way back to the village while there was still enough light to navigate the ravine she had climbed to get here.

Yet even as she thought that, she started to work her way closer to the light, drawn to it by a power she could not name. 'I should be worried about this.' She thought. But her finely honed Slayer sense for danger stayed quiet, and she was curious as to what she would find.

What she found was an old woman hunched over a small fire in front of the door of a little cottage. She was swathed in an assortment of brightly colored scarves that swayed gently as she rocked to the rhythm of her chant. The fire's light danced over her deep brown face, throwing the wrinkles covering her face into deep relief as she added another handful of herbs to the fire.

An aromatic cloud of smoke drifted in Buffy's direction and wrapped itself around her senses. She found herself sitting across from the woman without any memory of having crossed the intervening space.

The woman regarded her silently for a long time. Then she lifted a bundle made from feathers, sticks, herbs and animal hair and held it up in front of Buffy's face.

"I welcome you in the name of Hepheistos, the forger of chains. Take your place as the new Guardian of the seal." With that she laid the bundle into Buffy's lap. Then she dipped the first finger of her right hand into a little pot and leaned forward to draw a symbol in the middle of Buffy's forehead.

"Metis, mother of wisdom, take this child under the mantel of your protection and grant her the clarity to pierce the veils set to cloud her vision."

Next she picked up a bronze medallion strung on an intricately woven band that shimmered with all the colors of the fire and dipped it into a pitcher resting on a flat stone beside her. When she pulled it back out, Buffy saw that one side showed the picture of a flaming mountain, while the other depicted a hammer striking at chains.

"Hepheistos, accept this child in my place as the Guardian of the chains forged by your hand." With that she hung the medal around Buffy's neck and tucked it inside her shirt.

Still unable to do more then observe, Buffy watched her unfold her legs and slowly lever herself to her feet. She picked up the pitcher sitting on the flat stone and brushed some of the liquid on Buffy's forehead, then poured the rest of its contents over the fire.

"Hepheistos seal this pact with your fire!" the old woman shouted.

The fire shot up in a wall of flame and Buffy screamed as the symbol on her forehead and the medallion around her neck seemed to erupt with a fire of their own. Then she pitched forward into darkness.

* * *

Buffy woke slowly, shivering from the dew that coated her body, stiff and sore from having spent the night laying on the bare ground. With a groan she pushed herself up into a sitting position and surveyed her surroundings.

The first thing that caught her eye was the lifeless body of the old woman beside the remains of the fire. Next to her rested a broken pitcher and an open box painted with various symbols and pictures.

As she got to her feet to check on the woman, a bundle of sticks and herbs tumbled from her lap. She reached for it as something close to panic lanced through her and caught it before it could land on the ground.

What had happened here? She turned the bundle in her hands, careful not to disturb its delicate structure. She wasn't sure what it was exactly, but she knew that it was important that it be kept safe. Her eyes fell on the open box. It was lined with soft cotton and just the right size to accommodate the bundle.

Buffy put the bundle inside and closed the lid, then turned the box to look at the pictures on it. The bottom of it was covered with painted flames that licked up the sides on which people were fighting each other. In several places chains wrought of fire wrapped up and over the lid. On the lid itself she found the crude painting of a monster held captive by the chains of fire.

It had a vaguely human shaped head except for a huge mouth holding a series of shark-like teeth. Four clawed feet were gouging deep furrows into the ground beneath it and its back seemed to be covered by a ragged black blanket while a scorpion-like tail arched up above it.

Setting the box aside, she knelt down beside the old woman. She had seen enough death in her time as the Slayer to know that she had died hours ago.

Buffy looked up at the sunshine slowly working its way down the side of the valley. She had been gone since yesterday afternoon. She really should get back, but she couldn't just leave the woman laying out here in the open. She entered the cottage to look for some means to bury the old woman, her thoughts once again returning to the situation that might be waiting for her in Franton.

Even after Wesley had told her to look for the flaw in the blue crystal, she still found herself reluctant to believe the rest of what the other Buffy had told.

They wouldn't really put her through a ritual as senseless as the Cruciamentum appeared to be, would they?

Of course they wouldn't, she told herself firmly.

But then why did she feel like she was digging her own grave as she threw shovel after shovel full of dirt to the side?

* * * * *

Wesley was pacing the floor of the common room of the little boarding house the Watchers had taken for their own use.

Where was Buffy? How could she pick this time of all possible times to pull one of her unannounced disappearing acts?

He stepped over to the table and nervously leafed through the pages of the hand-written diary he had found in one of the houses. The tale it told of neighbors turning on one another as if possessed sent a chill down his back.

Had he been right to conceal Buffy's prolonged absence from the rest of the Watchers? What if something had happened to Buffy out there on patrol? He was only glad that he hadn't gotten the chance to inject Buffy with the compound designed to strip her of her powers. Whatever she had run into out there, at least she had all her Slayer powers at full strength to allow her to deal with it.

He turned around at the sound of the door opening, but it was only Quentin Travers.

"So, Mr. Wyndham-Price, where is your Slayer?" He asked with a disapproving expression on his face.

"She should be back from her patrol already." Wesley answered worriedly. "I told you about the skeletons she found on that farm and what is written here in this diary. What if whatever caused all this slaughter is still out there..."

"Calm yourself, Mr. Wyndham-Price. The Council looked this place over quite thoroughly before we chose it as the site for the Slayer's Rite of Passage. What ever attacked the village three years ago is long gone." Travers told him with absolute certainty.

"Well, if the monster is no longer here, where did it go? These things don't just cease to prey on humans or disappear, and if it had been killed, wouldn't word of that have reached the Council?" Wesley countered.

"I can assure you that there is no sign of a monster anywhere in this valley!" Travers repeated firmly. "You should be concentrating on preparing the slayer for the Cruciamentum, as is your duty as Watcher, and trust us to handle the rest."

Before either of them could say anything more, the door opened to admit a dirty and exhausted looking Buffy. Without a word she walked in and set a crudely painted box on the table in front of them.

"I think there may be a monster laying chained up somewhere in this valley." She told them in a tired voice. "And I think I have just become its guardian."

* * 3 * *

"What kind of a monster? Did you see it?" Wesley asked her.

Buffy shook her head. "No, but I met this woman..."

Wesley listened as Buffy described what had happened to her since she had left him the previous day.

"You said she called on Hepheistos and Metis?" He asked her after she had finished.

Travers waved Buffy off impatiently. "I don't think that there is any need to spend time on this. Mr. Wyndham-Price found a diary detailing how several of the people that used to live here went insane and turned on their neighbors. I have no doubt that this old woman was a victim of whatever malady swept through this valley three years ago."

"But all the other victims died with in the span of a single day after going berserk." Wesley objected. "How could this woman have survived for this long?"

"You found a diary of what happened here?" Buffy wanted to know, but Travers again headed off any further discussion.

"If she were the only one left behind, there would have been no one left to kill her." He stated calmly.

Wesley opened his mouth to protest. Not all of the possessed people had been killed by their neighbors. The local sheriff had managed to lock a couple of them up before the problem became too widespread. They had died an agonizingly slow and painful death in their cells, none of them living for more than a day.

Travers cut him off before he could speak. "I suggest that you concentrate on completing your Slayer's instruction in the properties and magical uses of the crystals we brought here from England. They need to be returned to the safety of the Council Headquarters as soon as possible. We can't chance them falling into the hands of some demon. Some of these are precious one of a kind specimens which could do incalculable damage if they should fall into the wrong hands."

Wesley looked over at Buffy as she let out an unladylike snort at Travers words. He caught a glimpse of grim amusement on her face before her usual mask of indifference dropped back into place.

"Can I at least take a shower and change first?" Buffy's stomach rumbled loudly and she added: "And grab something to eat."

Without waiting for either of them to give her permission, she simply turned and walked out the door.

Wesley watched as Travers shook his head sadly. "It is a shame to see what neglect has done to her. This just illustrates once again how important it is for the Council to identify potential Slayers at the earliest possible age and see to it that they are properly prepared for their future duty."

"Buffy Summers may not be a model Handbook-Slayer, but she is nevertheless truly dedicated to her duties and may well be one of the most effective Slayers the Council has ever seen..." Wesley felt compelled to defend her.

Travers huffed impatiently: "She is about as far from being a model Slayer as you can get. Just look at the way she chooses to dress! Her attitude is just short of disrespectful, and she is sadly lacking in discipline. That she has survived this long is due mostly to luck and the quality of the team her former Watcher assembled to support her. You've read the report of how they sacrificed themselves to keep her alive. They pampered her. I only hope that you have been able to reverse enough of the damage to let her pass the upcoming test."

Wesley thought of the vampire boxed up and waiting to be released so he could hunt a weakened Slayer and felt a cold shiver run down his back.

"Is this test really necessary? It seems so - barbaric." He asked Travers.

"It is a time-honored tradition. If she is truly as remarkable as you claim her to be, she should have no problems with Kralick. And she will be the stronger for having passed it." Travers assured him. "Now how far have you progressed with your preparation of the Slayer?"

"There is a problem." Wesley admitted reluctantly. "The blue crystal doesn't seem to have any kind of effect on her. Before she left to go on patrol yesterday, she looked at it for several minutes, and showed absolutely no signs of being entranced by it."

Travers heaved a disappointed sigh. "Have you considered that you might somehow be sabotaging the lesson yourself? You can't allow any fondness you may have developed for your charge to blind you to your duties. If you prove yourself unequal to the task, you will have failed the Council as well as your Slayer."

With that he left Wesley alone.

For several moments Wesley just stared at the closed door, then he slowly sank down into the chair in front of the table. His duty to the Council and his Slayer. Always before, it had been so easy to see where his duty lay. He had never felt the slightest compunction about sending Buffy up against the demons and monsters that could be found everywhere. One single vampire was nothing compared to what she had faced and overcome in the past, even if she had to face this one without her enhanced Slayer powers.

So why did this coming test feel so uncomfortably like betrayal to him?

His eyes fell on the painted box still sitting where Buffy had left it. Trying to ignore the hollow feeling in his stomach, he pulled it closer and opened it.

Inside lay a delicate construct of herbs, sticks, and feathers and animal hair, carefully held together by a multicolored thread. As he picked it up to take a closer look, he saw that what he had taken to be feathers were in reality strangely colored scales.

He tugged one of them free before replacing the bundle and closing the lid of the box. This certainly didn't look like it had come from any animal he had ever heard of. And if, as he suspected, it was of demonic origin, it might shed further light on what had happened to turn Franton into a ghost town.

He headed out of the room to consult with the other Watchers present on how best to determine what kind of creature this scale had come from, glad to have something to think about besides the Cruciamentum.

* * * * *

In the dark recesses of the abandoned feed-mill two yellow eyes glowed like two dim lights as the creature trapped in one of its empty grain bins strained against the invisible bonds holding it. Its long scaly tail whipped free, but even though it strained until the coarse yellow fur covering the rest of its body stood out in wild spikes, it was unable to break free.

Finally it settled back down to wait. The first of its bindings had been broken. It was only a matter of time before it would be free to spread its terror once again. Its long black tongue darted out to taste the air. Humans had once again come into this valley. After three long years of subsisting on nothing but the short-lived fears of rabbits and other animals, it longed for the rich bouquet of human fear and terror. None of the humans here emitted any of the fear it needed to sustain itself, but that would change soon enough once it got free. A drop of yellow venom dripped from the stinger at the end of its tail as it slowly snaked through the air in anticipation of the feast to come.

* * * * *

Again Buffy sat in front of the table in the common room, carefully *not* focusing on the blue crystal she was almost looking at, as Wesley continued his lesson.

"Now this crystal can be an invaluable help in expanding a Slayer's perceptions." Wesley was saying.

'No kidding!' Buffy barely kept herself from grimacing. It had certainly expanded her perception of the Watchers and her standing with them. She wondered how long they would keep repeating this step before they'd give up. Maybe she should just get it over with and simply smash the thing so it couldn't be used on any future Slayers. But that would lead to endless explanations and accusations that she was in no mood for.

She heard the door open and looked up to see Quentin Travers entering the room carrying a cup of steaming tea in his hand.

"So, how are the lessons going?" Was there an edge to his voice as he asked that question?

"I was just explaining the beneficial effects of meditation and how this crystal in particular can aid in achieving it." Wesley gestured at the blue crystal sitting in front of Buffy.

Turning to Buffy Travers took a sip of his tea. "And have you been able to find the flaw in this crystal?"

"Yeah, and it seems an unusually big flaw, too." Buffy answered giving him her sweetest smile.

"Big?" Travers' teacup stopped halfway to his mouth. "What did it look like?"

Now what? There was no way she was actually going to look for it. Think fast, Buffy. The shape of the flaw was supposed to hold a special significance for the Slayer. "It is kind of shaped like..." What would be a symbol that could represent the Slayer? "...like a girl! Yeah, a young girl holding a stake."

"A girl?" Travers asked taken aback, then began muttering under his breath. "I wonder if it could have gotten cracked during transport somehow?"

Buffy was beginning to enjoy herself. "Yeah, a girl, and a really pretty one at that." She threw a calculating look up at the older man. Could she get *him* to look into the crystal? "Not that I would ever walk around half undressed like that."

That did it. Travers picked up the crystal while Wesley crowded in close beside him so he could get a look at the crystal's flaw himself.

"You see the way she has her hip cocked? She doesn't so much look like a Slayer than a hooker!" But even as she said that she noticed their bodies stiffening and their expressions going slack.

Buffy stood up and waved her hands. "Hello?"

No reaction from either of them. Their eyes remained fixed on the crystal. "Cool."

She wondered if this worked like hypnosis where you could tell people to do almost anything. Now what would be a good hypnotic suggestion? She was tempted to tell them to quack like a duck once they woke back up, especially Travers, but Wesley hadn't really been a bad Watcher except for going along with Travers and the Council on this.

Her eyes fell on Travers' teacup. "You detest tea." she told them with a smile. "It is absolutely the vilest beverage you have ever been asked to drink."

Fun and fairly harmless, but not very useful. How about 'Buffy Summers is the best Slayer you have ever seen and you will do whatever she tells you?' Buffy grimaced. Tempting, but somehow it left a bad taste in her mouth.

"You will never put another Slayer through this Crucial - whatever test." she told them. That seemed safe enough.

She was trying to think of what else she might tell them to do when the door opened to admit Dr. Warren, the oldest member of the Watcher team here and his young assistant Gary Barker.

"Where did you get this scale, Wesley?" He asked as he entered. "Do you know what this is?" Then he noticed the unnatural stillness of the two men standing by the table. "What is this?" He demanded.

Buffy shrugged trying to look as innocently as possible. "I don't know, one moment we were talking and the next..."

Dr. Warren stepped up to them and waved his hand between them and the crystal, trying to break their gaze. After a moment Wesley blinked and staggered back, but Travers remained locked rigidly in place, staring at the crystal.

Gary caught Wesley's elbow and helped him to sit down at the table. Buffy watched with interest as Gary picked up Travers' tea and offered it to Wesley. To her disappointment Wesley accepted it and began to sip from it gratefully.

So much for her post-hypnotic suggestions.

"What happened here?" Dr. Warren wanted to know as he unsuccessfully tried to pry Travers' fingers off the crystal.

"I'm - not sure." Wesley stammered. "I was telling Buffy about these crystals and Mr. Travers came in. After that - I'm not sure what happened."

"Buffy?"

"Travers wanted to check that the crystal hadn't somehow been damaged during its trip here. He picked it up and then..." Buffy gestured at Travers' unmoving form and shrugged.

"Damn fool thing to do." Dr. Warren muttered. "Gary, come over here and help me get the crystal away from him. And be careful not to look at it directly."

Buffy watched their futile efforts for a few moments, then decided to help.

"You two hold him, I'll pull the crystal loose."

As soon as they had wrapped their arms around Travers' torso and braced themselves, Buffy wedged her fingers between the crystal and Travers' hand and pulled. The crystal popped free and Buffy stumbled back.

"He's still not moving." She heard Gary say, but his voice seemed to come from very far away.

The crystal in her hand was pulling at her, trying to swallow her up. It felt almost like a live thing pulling at her. Taking a deep breath she spun around as fast as she could and forced her fingers open, sending the crystal flying.

A dead silence settled over the room as the crystal impacted with the wall and disintegrated in a rain of shards.

Then Travers collapsed into a boneless heap.

* * * * *

Wesley watched two Watchers carry Travers flaccid body out of the room, gratefully accepting a fresh cup of tea from Gary.

"Why in the world did you smash that crystal, young lady? Do you have any idea of its value to the Watchers Council?" Dr. Warren was asking Buffy.

Buffy shrugged and answered easily enough. "One way to break a witch's spells is by cutting off her head. I figured breaking the crystal would achieve the same effect." Did she seem dazed or was that just an aftereffect of her own exposure to the crystal?

"Yes, well, it certainly released Travers from its hold." Warren conceded grudgingly. "But you should not have taken such a irreversible action without a direct order from your Watcher, young lady. Hasn't Wesley taught you anything?"

Buffy remained silent, her arms wrapped tightly around herself as she leaned against the wall. After a moment Warren turned away from her with a sigh and came over to speak to Wesley.

"What's done is done. The reason I came to see you, Wesley, is this scale you gave me. Where did you get it? We have narrowed it down to five different demons it could have come from. Was there anything else that would let us narrow it down a bit more?" he asked as he sat down across from Gary and picked up a cup of tea of his own.

"It came from the bundle in this box." Wesley answered gesturing towards the painted box sitting on the table.

Dr. Warren took one look at the picture painted on the lid of the box and went white. He closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair. "I guess we know what killed all the people here. I was afraid of this. Was there any coarse yellow fur in there with it?"

Wesley watched him with a frown. "There is hair in that bundle but it is so wrapped around with herbs and string it is hard to say what type it is."

"Where did this box come from?" Dr. Warren asked taking a steadying sip of tea.

Wesley was so involved in repeating Buffy's story that he didn't notice that Gary had taken the bundle out of the box and was trying to pull one of the hairs free until he was interrupted by a shout form Buffy.

"No, don't touch that!" Buffy had pushed herself off the wall and was lunging towards Gary, but he had already pulled one of the hairs free.

Buffy froze, one hand clutching at the medallion the old woman had given her, the other hand covering her forehead. "Oh god, it's going to break free! I have to stop it!" With that she spun and ran out of the door.

"Stop what?" Wesley demanded of Dr. Warren. "What is breaking free?"

Dr. Warren reached for the yellow hair in Gary's hand and turned it between his fingers. He closed his eyes and sank back in his chair letting the hair drop from his fingers. "I was hoping so much that I was wrong. Oh god."

"What? What is it?" Wesley was just about ready to shake the old man.

"A Manticore."

* * 4 * *

Wesley shot up out of his chair. "We have to warn Buffy to stay away from that thing! If she gets stung..."

The thought of Maria Montgarret and the mutilated corpses that had littered her path sent a chill down his back.

"She will have to be neutralized." Warren finished his sentence for him. "Gary, find the others. Tell them to break out the artillery and get ready."

"What?" Wesley stammered. "She hasn't been stung yet! All we need to do is keep her away from the Manticore and send a Swat Team after it instead!"

"It's almost impossible for regular humans to kill a Manticore." Warren explained patiently. "It clouds their minds and stings them before they even knows it is there, and once stung... Well, you know what happened here in Franton."

Warren shook his head regretfully. "No, our best chance to eliminate this thing lies with the Slayer."

But what if Buffy got stung and had to be killed? Without his Slayer what would become of him? Wesley desperately tried to think of another solution.

"What about this spell?" He gestured at the bundle of sticks. "Surely if some old lady could do it, you can reinstate the binding?"

Warren ran a hand across his face, then leaned forward to inspect the bundle. "I've never seen or heard of anything like this. I wonder if she was a Native American?"

"She invoked Metis and Hepheistos." Wesley pointed out to him.

"Greek gods. Metis was the mother of Athena, and Hepheistos was the Forger, the smith of the gods..." Warren muttered to himself. "If I unravel it, that might tell me how it was done."

"But won't that free the Manticore all together?" Wesley asked alarmed.

"I doubt the spell will hold it much longer now that it has been disturbed." Warren shrugged. "And if the Slayer should prove unable to kill it, this might give us a way of dealing with it. Though probably not before it manages to get us to kill each other. I'll work on it, but in the meantime we must hope that the Slayer will be able to kill it - and be ready to deal with the Slayer afterwards."

"Why are you so sure she'll need to be killed?" Wesley was getting desperate. He couldn't lose his Slayer; he couldn't go back to being a nobody!

"She wont even know that it is there until after it stings her. A Manticore can cloud a Slayer's mind as well as anybody else's. The good news is that a Slayer's unique metabolism will reduce the poison's effectiveness enough that, with any luck, she will be able to kill the Manticore before succumbing to it." Warren closed his eyes and massaged the bridge of his nose. "The bad news is that for that same reason the poison won't kill her, only turn her into an insane killing machine that has to be stopped."

"What about an antidote?" Wesley was grasping at straws now.

"There is no antidote." The look he gave Wesley was not unsympathetic. "It's always hard losing a Slayer, especially to poison. My Helen got stung by a Sacra-demon demon. It was horrible to watch her suffer, not being able to help. - In a way I envy you. At least you will be allowed to end her suffering and give her a clean, humane death."

* * * * *

Buffy prowled the streets of Franton in search of the place where the monster lay bound. She was carrying a long bladed spear and had her double-barrel crossbow slung over her shoulder. If she could just find the monster before it broke free completely, it shouldn't be all that hard to kill.

But even as she thought that, she could feel some fool systematically unraveling the remaining bindings. Cursing up a blue streak she surveyed her surroundings.

She was in front of the old feed mill almost at the opposite end of town from the boarding house; she'd never get back there in time to stop them from freeing the monster.

'Those fools! I should never have left that box with them.' But she had trusted that Dr. Warren at least would have enough sense to keep anyone from messing with it. Were they *trying* to kill her?

That last thought froze her in her tracks and sent a cold shiver down her back. She *had* made it impossible for them to go through with their stupid test. Was this their revenge for breaking the crystal?

Suddenly the symbol on her forehead came to fiery life, jolting her out of her thoughts. Out of the corner of her eye she caught the shadow of a movement and reflex took over. She was rolling out of the way before her brain registered that it was a long, scaly tail with a stinger on its end that she was dodging.

Dropping her spear, she aimed her crossbow and fired both bolts in quick succession.

She was rewarded by a scream of rage and for a moment she got a clear view of her opponent. It was the monster from the box, except that what she had taken for a black blanket covering its back turned out to be a pair of bat-like wings instead.

Its tail darted out again. Buffy ducked, but even as she took a swipe at it with her spear, its outline began to blur. It didn't disappear altogether, but between the wind from its wings as it launched itself into the air and the tears brought to her eyes by the burning of the symbol on her forehead, it was impossible to make it out clearly.

It dove for her and Buffy stabbed upwards with her spear, only to have it rip the spear from her grip. Looking around for some way to neutralize its aerial advantage, Buffy spotted an old barn with its doors gaping open.

With the monster in hot pursuit, Buffy threw herself through the doors and grabbed the first thing that came to her hands. A pitch fork. Balancing it like a javelin, she hurled it into the middle of the dust cloud stirred up by the creatures uncontrolled landing in the barn. There was an agonized scream, and its outline became clearly visible once more.

Red foam was dripping from its shark-like teeth as it hissed at Buffy. Its long scaly tail hovered overhead, greenish-yellow liquid dripping from the stinger at its end.

Looking around for another weapon, Buffy spotted a scythe hanging on the wall. She jumped for it and was able to swing it around just as the tail darted in towards her back. She managed to cut clean through it but was unable to avoid the falling end completely, and its stinger tore a gash along her left arm. Ignoring the burning pain, Buffy swung the scythe around again, this time catching one of its wings.

The thing threw back its head to scream, and Buffy jumped in to hack at its neck. The scream ended in a bloody gurgle. One of its claws darted out to grab her. Buffy stumbled back, scythe still at the ready until the last twitching subsided, then heaved a sigh of relief and staggered towards the open door and the fresh air beyond.

She caught sight of Wesley and about five other Watchers coming down the street carrying guns.

'A little late.' she thought, but at least their presence showed that they hadn't planned on feeding her to the monster without backup.

She stepped through the door and waved at them. "It's all right. I killed..." Her voice trailed off in disbelief as she saw two of the Watchers taking aim at her.

One bullet grazed her shoulder as she threw herself back through the doors.

'What the hell was going on here?'

A she clambered up into the hayloft, she remembered Wesley's report on how the villagers here had turned on one another under the monster's influence. Well, now that she had killed it, they should get back to normal soon enough. She just needed to avoid them until then.

The boarding house was deserted when she got there. Buffy stripped off her clothing and stepped into the shower. The gash on her left arm burned like fire as she scrubbed herself down as best she could, and she was plagued by a growing thirst.

Dressing quickly she made her way to the kitchen in search of something cool to drink.

She was downing a carton of orange juice when she heard Wesley and Dr. Warren talking as they entered the house.

* * * * *

Wesley followed Dr. Warren into the boarding house, still wishing that there were some way to avoid having to kill Buffy and save his position in the Watchers.

"Are you absolutely sure she *has* to be killed?" he asked yet again. "She seemed clearheaded enough at the barn and she didn't try to kill any of us. She just ran, and you can't really blame her for that, what with people shooting at her. Shouldn't we at least wait until she shows some signs of..."

"The longer we wait, the harder it is going to be on all of us, including your Slayer." Dr. Warren cut him off. "I know how hard this is for you, but believe me a quick death is the best thing here. Why don't you check on Mr. Travers while I contact the Council."

Wesley sighed as the kitchen door swung shut behind Warren and went to check on Mr. Travers.

He found him sitting up in his bed grimacing at the cup of tea he was holding in his hands.

"Who in the world made this tea?" He demanded as soon as Wesley stepped through the door. "It is without a doubt the vilest concoction I have ever been asked to drink!"

"I think Barker made the tea. Let me go get you a fresh cup." Wesley offered, glad for the excuse to leave again.

He opened the kitchen door to be greeted by the sight of Dr. Warren stretched out on the floor next to the table. As he stepped forward to check on him, he barely caught the flash of a movement before something collided with the back of his head and everything went dark.

He woke to find himself bound hand and foot with Dr. Warren beside him similarly trussed up.

Dr. Warren was talking to a stone-faced Buffy as she filled a bag with food from the cupboards.

"You have to believe me!" He pleaded with her. "We're only trying to do what is best for everyone involved here. A Manticore's poison causes painful fevers as well as paranoid delusions, causing its victims to turn into vicious killers! You say that you weren't stung. Don't you see that the fact that you refuse to believe me and untie us is the first sign of the poison taking a hold of you? Who can you trust if not the Council and your Watcher?"

Buffy's expression never changed as she bent down to pull the keys to the black van out of Wesley's pocket. Picking up the bag of groceries she regarded them with a cold look.

"I advise you to stay as far away from me as possible. After what you tried to do to me here there is no way I would ever trust any of you ever again. Until the next Slayer is called, the Council will just have to go on fighting without a Slayer." She told them in a flat voice.

"Buffy you can't! You need a Watcher to..." Wesley pleaded with her.

"I don't need anyone!" She cut him off. "Certainly not a bunch of Watchers willing to first poison me then lock me up with a vampire after having stripped me of all of my powers!"

"What? Who told you..." Wesley stammered.

"The only person I can still trust told me: myself." Buffy told him grimly.

Unable to think of anything to say, Wesley watched the door swing shut behind her.

* * 5 * *

Wesley was staring morosely into the depth of his teacup. Quentin Travers, sitting across from him, was once again complaining about the taste of his tea when Dr. Warren stepped into the room.

"Still no trace of the Slayer?" Quentin Travers pushed his cup away from himself in disgust.

Warren shook his head. "Nothing conclusive. There was one report of a blonde girl demolishing a convenient store outside of Fillmore, but there where survivors, so I think we can dismiss that one as a false lead."

"What happened?" Wesley asked. Fillmore wasn't too far from Sunnydale. Could Buffy be headed back there?

"Something about a truck driver trying to molest a young girl. The trucker got his neck broken, a man trying to separate them ended up impaled on the leg of an overturned chair, and an old lady was killed when one of the store's shelves was overturned during the fight, but after that the girl just ran out. If it had been the poisoned Slayer, she would never have left while there were still people left alive." Warren told him as he made himself a cup of tea. "No, I think the report about a demon rampaging through downtown LA is the better lead. We will leave for LA in the morning."

"Maybe that girl in Fillmore was Buffy. She did say that she hadn't been stung..." Wesley suggested hopefully.

Warren took a careful sip of his hot tea. "She was stung. Otherwise she could never have seen the Manticore clearly enough to kill it."

"But why would she be going to LA? Fillmore is on the way to Sunnydale from here. It is much more likely that she would be headed back there." Wesley stubbornly persisted.

Warren heaved a sigh and set his cup down. "Fine. Why don't you go and check out the report from Fillmore. The rest of us will head for LA."

* * * * *

"So, any word from Buffy?"

Angel froze as he waited to hear Giles' answer to Oz' question.

"No, not really."

Angel frowned at the librarian's phrasing. "Not really?"

"Wesley called earlier and wanted to know how things were here in Sunnydale." Giles said dryly.

Sandy snorted: "How Cordelia was is more likely."

"Did he mention Buffy?" Owen wanted to know. "Did he say when she'd be back?"

Giles shook his head slowly. "No, but he gave me his number so I could get a hold of him. Which is a bit strange in itself. The Watchers usually do their best to pretend that neither I nor Sunnydale even exist."

"Maybe Buffy told him to." Owen suggested hopefully.

"Maybe." Giles conceded. "I got the impression that there was something he wanted to know, but didn't want to ask about straight out."

"Like I said, Cordelia." Sandy observed cynically. "Buffy was certainly right when she predicted that he'd fall for her like a ton of bricks. Speaking of the devil - isn't that her car?"

Angel spun around to scan the street behind him much to the other White Hats' amusement. To his relief there was no sign of Cordelia.

"Funny." He told Sandy, though in reality he didn't mind the young girl's teasing. It made him feel like he was actually a part of their group.

"Your face was." Sandy grinned at him. "But isn't it about time to call it a night?"

Giles nodded. "Yes. You do have school tomorrow."

* * *

Angel shifted restlessly on his bed and finally got up and quietly went out into the kitchen, careful not to wake Giles.

He retrieved a container of pig's blood from the refrigerator, hoping that a snack would settle the unease nagging at him. It put a damper on his ever-present hunger but did nothing to calm his nerves. He began to pace around Giles' living room automatically avoiding the furniture cluttering the dark room. Giles had asked him not to go out hunting on his own, but he felt like a caged tiger.

Finally he couldn't stand it any longer. The sun would rise before too long, and he would be trapped in here for the day, but he had time for a quick walk.

He picked up his weapons belt even though he really didn't expect to run into any trouble. Most vampires would be settling down for the day and the demons that didn't need to fear the light of the sun wouldn't come out until later.

He took a deep breath of the clear night air as he made his way from shadow to shadow. Some of the tension that had been building over the last two days began to uncoil.

He had missed this. As much as he longed for company, sometimes the constant presence of the others was enough to drive him to distraction. Maybe it was because as humans they were the natural prey of his kind, or maybe he had simply gotten too used to being alone over the last 90 years.

Once again he considered looking for a place of his own to stay but dismissed it for all the same reasons as before.

Buffy had asked him to keep the other White Hats safe during her absence, and it was much easier to do so while staying at Giles' who was the de facto leader of the group.

A scream and the sound of breaking glass split the air, and Angel took off in the direction of the noise checking the weapons in his belt as he went.

He rounded the corner and found himself on a residential street. A group of five vampires was huddled around a woman who had apparently been thrown out to them through one of the windows. Holding a stake in each hand he managed to stake two of them before they even knew he was there. The remaining three released the woman and turned on him with a snarl.

He could hear screams coming from the house, but even if he could dispatch the vampires in front of him fast enough, there was nothing he could do to help the people inside. As a vampire he was unable to enter the home of a living person without a special invitation. He blocked a fist aimed at his head, then spun and kicked out at the brunette trying to tackle him from behind. These were young vampires, but from their clothing Angel guessed that they had all come from the same gang, and they were used to working as a team.

Not that that was going to save them, Angel thought grimly, as he pulled another stake from his belt. He barely ducked the next kick at his head, moving with it while pretending that it had connected solidly. He stumbled back, lifting his hands as if he were trying to shield his head so they wouldn't see how sharply he was watching their movements.

A fist shot towards his stomach and Angel folded up around it throwing himself back at the same time. Now sure that they had him beat, the brunette lunged at him with a triumphant growl only to stumble back staring in surprise at the stake protruding from her chest.

At this point Angel expected the remaining two vampires to run, - and they did. Up to the front door, to pound on it, screaming for help.

Pulling out a couple more stakes Angel followed them onto the porch, but before he could stake either of them the door opened to reveal three dark skinned Kailiff demons.

Deciding that discretion was the better part of valor, Angel turned to beat a strategic retreat only to find himself confronted by two more vampires and yet another Kailiff demon.

Eight to one and nowhere to go. Not good. Pulling a knife from his belt with his left hand he flicked it at the nearest Kailiff demon and had the satisfaction of seeing it bury itself in its throat.

One down, but he knew that was the last easy kill he was going to get as the others tackled him from all sides.

'Should have listened to Giles' he thought as he tried to sell his life as dearly as possible. It had been stupid to rush in alone without knowing exactly what he was up against. He had gotten too used to having the others around as backup.

He managed to wrap his arms around the neck of one of the Kailiff demons and break its neck, slicing up his arms on the spikes sticking out of the sides of its face in the process before they managed to immobilize him.

It could be worse, he thought as the first kick connected with his ribs, it could have been Willow that caught him. At least all *these* demons were going to do was kill him.

He was just as surprised as his captors when one of the vampires holding him suddenly disappeared in a cloud of dust, but he took instant advantage of it. Pulling a stake from the belt he was still wearing, he turned and dusted the other vampire holding him.

That left two vampires and two Kailiff demons and he was no longer alone. A grim smile lifted one corner of his mouth as he jumped forward only to feel his mouth drop open in surprise as he saw who his rescuer was. The sharp pain of a fist connecting with the side of his head quickly reminded him that there were more important things to deal with first.

A few minutes later the last of the demons fell to a well-placed knife and Angel allowed himself to relax and turn to the petite blonde that had once again come to his rescue.

"Buffy! When did you..." The words died on his lips as the blonde Slayer turned away form the dying Kailiff demon and attacked him without losing a single beat.

Angel stared in surprise at the wooden stake coming straight for him.

At the last minute he managed to turn enough so it buried itself in his side instead of his heart. The pain didn't even have time to register before he had to duck a fist aimed at his face.

"Buffy, its me, Angel!" he yelled as he backpedaled away form her vicious attacks. The expression on her flushed, sweat-covered face never changed. There was no recognition in her fever-bright eyes.

He didn't want to hurt her, but neither did he want to die at the hands of a crazed Slayer. He managed to knock the stake out of her hand and blocking her punches and kicks as best he could he tried to maneuver her up against the wall of the house. After the beating he had taken earlier he wasn't at his best, but luckily the Slayer wasn't in much better shape.

He managed to catch a hold of her wrists and pin her up against the wall with his body. She tried to bite him and as he twisted to avoid her teeth the cross choker he had given her for her birthday connected with his right arm. He jerked away from the pain of the crosses burning into his skin but refused to relinquish his grip on her.

"I don't want to hurt you, Buffy!" He told her desperately.

To his surprise she stilled at his words. She looked up at him, but there was still no sign of recognition in her eyes.

"Angel?" She asked doubtfully.

He let out a relieved sigh and loosened his grip on her hands. "It's me, Angel." he told her. "Buffy, what happened to you?"

* * 6 * *

Buffy aimed her stake at the Sikkah-demon's main heart but when it turned, she shifted her aim for the secondary heart lower down in the side of its chest, then drove her left fist towards its face. It ducked her swing yelling something and backed up to give itself enough distance to shoot off one of its poisonous head spines at her.

Buffy followed it, kicking and punching as fast as she could, more to prevent it from getting a chance to aim than in any hopes of actually inflicting real damage. The layers of tough dark yellow scales that covered its extremities provided excellent protection with the only soft spots being its belly and neck.

She was trying to get it to turn and run. Sikkah-demons didn't like close fighting, and she was tired enough that she was perfectly willing to let it go. Instead it closed with her and before she knew it, it managed to pin her up against a wall.

She knew that her teeth would never even penetrate its armor, but she was determined to go down fighting tooth and nail. And since she couldn't use her nails, tooth it was.

To her surprise it squirmed to avoid her teeth, as if they could really hurt it, though it didn't relinquish its death grip on her wrists. Its right arm pressed up against her throat for a moment and Buffy heard a hiss of pain and caught a whiff of burnt skin.

What was going on here? Crosses didn't burn Sikkah-demons.

"I don't want to hurt you, Buffy!" Buffy froze, assailed by a sense of deja vu. She had heard the same words said to her in the same pained and desperate voice once before, hadn't she? When? Then she remembered her stay in the other Sunnydale.

She looked up into the grotesque face of the demon holding her pinned up against the wall. "Angel?" she asked doubtfully. This sure didn't look like Angel.

She felt him relax his tight grip and heave a sigh of relief. "It's me, Angel. Buffy, what happened to you?"

"Me? What happened to *you*? You're a demon!" She countered still not really believing it was him.

"I've *been* a demon for more than 200 years." He sounded puzzled.

"Yeah, but the last time I saw you, you weren't covered in yellow scales or had spikes growing out of your head." She pointed out to him.

"Spikes?" he echoed in a startled voice.

He let go of her left wrist and reached up to feel his head. It was strange to see his hand pass right through the spikes as if they weren't even there. Buffy blinked. What if they weren't? Closing her eyes she hesitantly reached out to touch him. Hair, smooth skin, no scales, no spikes.

With a shudder she dropped her head against his broad chest. Hadn't Warren said something about Manticore poison causing paranoid illusions?

"Oh, god." Her mind went back to the pair of demons that had attacked her in the little store outside of Fillmore, how they had kept shifting, morphing from demon to human and back. She had killed them. Just like she had almost killed Angel.

Warren had warned her that this would happen. Told her that she was now as dangerous as the monsters she was fighting against to the people it was her duty to protect.

She began to shiver uncontrollably.

Two strong arms wrapped themselves around her back. "Shh, it's okay." Angel tried to soothe her.

Those demons she had killed, had they really been demons? "Giles and the others... - those demons, they weren't..."

"The others are fine." Angel told her. "But we better get back to Giles place."

Panic ripped through her. "I can't go there!" She clutched at a pair of arms that looked like scales but felt like cloth.

"Buffy, we can't stay here." he told her earnestly. "Or at least I can't. The sun will be up soon. Plus Giles might know why you're seeing things that aren't there."

Buffy swallowed hard. "Ever heard of a Manticore?" She felt him stiffen against her. "I'll take that as a yes. I killed one. Warren tried to warn me. I didn't believe him... I ran." It was hard to get the next words past the lump in her throat. "Maybe I should have stayed, let them do it. Warren said they'd make quick and clean."

She felt his fingers digging hard into her shoulders. "No! We just have to find the antidote before the poison..."

"...kills me?" Buffy finished his sentence for him. "But it won't." she told him bitterly. "I'm a Slayer. It won't kill me, just make me kill everyone else."

"Giles will help." Angel insisted.

Buffy shook her head. "I can't trust..."

"You've got to trust somebody!"

"I can't even trust myself! I almost killed you!" She yelled back at him.

"But you didn't." Angel pointed out.

"I would have. I thought you were a Sikkah-demon." She searched his face. "You still look like a Sikkah-demon." She closed her eyes and buried her face against his chest. "I know you're Angel, I can feel your shirt - and I still have to fight to keep from attacking you."

"You just have to control it. You can beat this poison. We'll find an antidote..." Angel repeated.

"Angel, you're not the first one. There were those two guys... I thought they were demons. But what if..." she couldn't say it.

"Buffy, how do you know that they weren't?" He countered.

Buffy looked up at him and, for a moment, she could almost see his real face. "Promise me - promise me that you'll kill me before you let me kill anyone else."

His fingers closed on her shoulders with a convulsive strength that sent a lance of pain down her arms.

"Buffy..." he began in a shocked voice.

"Promise me!"

After a moment his shoulders slumped but if anything his hands only gripped her harder.

"I promise." He whispered and Buffy felt some of the tension leave her body.

Angel took a deep breath and looked up at the sky. "Buffy, I *have* to get out of the open."

"Do you know the old abandoned mansion on Crawford Street just outside of town? Can we make it there before sunrise?" She asked him.

Angel looked around. "We're close to Restfield Cemetery. We can make it if we run."

Buffy took a deep breath and stepped back from him. "Okay, just hold on to my hand. That will help me remember that you're you. - I hope."

The run that followed was a living nightmare. With every step she had to fight the urge to pull her hand free and turn on the monster running beside her.

Finally she pulled as far ahead as their tightly linked hands would allow. The less she actually saw of him the better, she figured.

They reached the mansion and Buffy pulled the door open and hurried inside - only to be jerked to a dead stop when Angel ran into an invisible wall as he tried to follow her.

'Stupid!' Buffy chided herself. 'He's a vampire!'

Buffy turned to invite him in and the words died on her lips.

That wasn't Angel holding her hand. Somehow he had been replaced by a red monster the likes of which she had never even heard of.

"What are you?" Buffy demanded. "What did you do with Angel?" In a near panic she tried to pull free of its grip.

"Buffy, it's me!" The red monster insisted. "Whatever you're seeing, I'm still Angel!"

Buffy fought against a wave of unreasoning fear and the urge to kill this thing before it could kill her. Sweat broke out all over her body and she almost doubled over from the pain gripping her insides.

"Buffy!" Angel's voice sounded desperate.

Angel, she had to invite him in so he could... so he could... kill her! He was a vampire, he would kill her! "Oh, god!" Was that smoke she smelled? The sun! The sun would burn him and she would be safe. No! She couldn't let him burn. He was good. She could trust him. He had a soul, and she had to trust somebody!

Buffy looked up and, for a moment, she could see the smoking vampire beneath the red monster. His eyes full of pain and desperation as he looked at her.

Another wave of pain washed over her and she took a deep breath. Either she could trust him or he would kill her. The way she felt right now she almost hoped for the latter. But either way he would stop her from killing anyone else, and that was all that really mattered right now.

"Come in."

* * * * *

Oz and Larry entered Giles' house to find the ex-Watcher sitting on the sofa with a rather lost expression on his face.

"What's wrong?" Larry wanted to know.

"Angel's gone." Giles told them. "I went into his room a few minutes ago to discuss tonight's patrol and his room was empty."

"He just packed his things and left?" Oz asked.

"Actually his things are still there." Giles said slowly.

"Maybe he just went out and didn't make it back before sunrise." Larry suggested.

"I can't believe that he would go out alone. He knows how dangerous Sunnydale is." Giles shook his head.

"Well, he is a vampire." Oz pointed out with a shrug.

They were interrupted by a knock on the door and a few moments later Giles led Wesley into the room.

"You guys are back." Oz greeted him. "Didn't take Buffy long to kill that monster."

Wesley shifted uncomfortably. "Yes, well..."

"It'll be good to have the Slayer going out on patrol with us again." Larry chimed in.

Giles remained quiet, never taking his eyes off Wesley.

"Well, as to that - there may be a problem..." Wesley stammered.

* * 7 * *

Angel eyed Buffy warily as he stretched his tired and aching body. For the last hour she had been sitting in a corner of the big living room, arms wrapped around her knees, rocking back and forth.

At least she had given up trying to leave the house for now. He carefully rotated his left shoulder to prevent it from stiffening up. He had dislocated it in a desperate struggle to keep her from getting past him out into the sun where he couldn't follow her. He had promised that he would stop her form killing any innocents and he would keep that promise.

Choosing to fight purely defensively had earned him numerous scrapes and bruises, but it also helped Buffy to see through the poison-induced hallucinations. He would wait until her attacks faltered, thrown off by the fact that he refused to retaliate the way a normal opponent would. And once that first doubt surfaced in her mind, he could usually talk her back to reason.

But she needed more help than simply having someone there to stop her from going on a killing rampage. She needed an antidote to get rid of the hallucinations in the first place. And for that they needed Giles.

There had been no way for him to contact Giles or one of the others. The house had neither electricity nor a working phone, though it at least had running water, and the sun kept him trapped inside. But now the sun was nearing the horizon. He didn't like the idea of leaving Buffy, but he couldn't see any other choice.

That meant he had to find a way to keep her here until he got back.

Avoiding any sudden or threatening movements, he slowly walked over to Buffy and crouched down in front of her.

"Buffy?" he asked softly, trying to gain her attention.

She tensed up at the sound of his voice, but at least she didn't launch into an immediate attack.

"It's me, Angel." he reminded her. "I have to leave for a while and we have to find a place where you'll be safe until I get back."

He was about to try again when she finally answered. "There is a little storage room in the basement."

Wanting to take advantage of her momentary lucidity he suggested: "Why don't we grab some blankets and pillows, and you can make yourself comfortable there?"

Angel was careful not to crowd Buffy as they made their way down to the basement. Sweat once again covered Buffy's brow and her whole body seemed coiled, ready to attack, but they made it into the little storage room without any incident.

Two narrow, barred windows let in the late evening light but were too small for Buffy to squeeze through. Angel set down the battery powered light he was carrying and made up a pallet in the driest corner of the room, all the while keeping a watchful eye on Buffy. But she simply stood in the middle of the room, her arms wrapped tightly around herself, with a far-away expression in her eyes.

One hand on the handle of the door he turned back to her. "Stay here. I'll be back as soon as possible."

There was no sign that she had heard him.

After a moment he turned to open the door, only to have her tackle him to the floor with a desperate yell: "Don't leave me!"

"Buffy, you need the antidote. Giles and the others will find it for us." he told her firmly, hoping desperately that he was telling her the truth.

Buffy's grip tightened on his arms and she bit her bottom lip in an effort to retain control. The heady bouquet of fresh Slayer blood invaded his senses as he stared at the drop of blood beading up on her lip. Closing his eyes he swallowed hard and fought his own battle for control.

After a moment Buffy rolled to lie on the floor beside him. "He'll call the Watchers and they'll come and kill me."

Her resigned words jolted him out of his preoccupation with his battle against his bloodlust. He rolled over and grabbed a hold of her shoulders. "No, they won't! I won't let them."

She looked at him with a trembling half smile. "Maybe it'll be better that way. I just feel sorry for the next Slayer. Will you watch over her, too?"

"You can't just give up and let them kill you!" A painful tightness in his chest made his voice rough. Then a wave of anger rushed through him. Anger at her that she was willing to give up that easily. Anger at the Watchers that had let this happen to her. But most of all anger at himself for not having been there when she needed him.

Taking a deep, breath he forced the anger away. Yelling at her wouldn't accomplish anything.

"Buffy please." He pleaded with her quietly. "We can get through this."

But Buffy only curled up into a tight little ball, and after a moment Angel carefully picked her up and tucked her under the blankets of the pallet he had made for her.

He reached out one hand and hesitantly stroked her silky hair. "Giles will find an antidote. You'll be fine." he told her. "I won't let the Watchers get near you. We'll find a cure and you'll be fine."

Buffy opened one eye and glanced up at him. "How can you be so sure?"

Because he absolutely refused to even consider the alternative. The idea of her dying made him almost physically ill. But he didn't think that she would appreciate hearing that.

"Get some rest." He told her, then he quietly secured the door behind him.

* * * * *

Wesley shifted uncomfortably, finding it hard to look directly at the ex-Watcher or his two young friends.

"Did Buffy get hurt?" Giles asked.

"Not - exactly..." Wesley hedged, unable to find the words to tell them what 'exactly' had happened to Buffy.

"Dead?" The ex-Watcher asked, slowly sinking down on a chair.

"No, she's not dead. She is - worse." Wesley swallowed hard.

"A vampire?" Larry guessed.

"No, though I almost wish she were." Wesley sighed. "Vampires are evil and just need to be staked. No questions about what my duty would be in that case. No, this - this is much worse."

But before he could get any further, he suddenly lost everyone's attention as the door opened to admit another of their little group of demon fighters. Wesley felt his mouth drop open as he took in Angel's appearance.

In all his time spent as Buffy's Watcher, he had never encountered a better fighter than Angel. Angel had at times almost seemed to equal the Slayer in fighting strength and skill. Wesley had never seen him even close to as tired or battered as he looked right now.

"Good God, Angel! Are you all right?" Giles asked, obviously as shocked by the man's appearance as Wesley was himself.

Angel's eyes had locked onto Wesley as soon as he had stepped through the door, and Wesley didn't at all care for the expression in them. Maybe it was his torn and bloody shirt that suddenly made him appear so threatening, but Wesley suddenly found himself wishing that there were a lot more between them then a flimsy table and some chairs.

"What's he doing here?" Angel asked in a flat voice.

"He was just about to tell us that when you interrupted. Apparently something has happened to Buffy." Giles answered him.

Angel's eyes narrowed but he stayed silent.

Taking a deep breath, Wesley forced himself to just come straight out and say it. "Buffy killed a Manticore."

As an ex-Watcher Giles obviously knew what that meant. He turned several shades paler and slowly sank back down on his chair.

Oz looked from Giles' white face to Angel's unchanged one. "And that's a bad thing?"

"When?" Giles asked in a hoarse voice.

"Yesterday around noon." Wesley answered quietly.

Giles pulled his glasses off and covered his eyes with his other hand. "So, has the new Slayer been identified yet?"

"Woah! New Slayer? I thought you only get those when..." Oz trailed off when Giles lifted his head to look at him.

"You thought right." Giles told him with a tired sigh. "Buffy fought a Manticore, and Manticore poison will kill anyone within the span of one day. - After first turning them into berserk killers."

"Not - everyone." Wesley corrected him reluctantly. "Slayers have a certain resistance to the poison that will keep it from taking immediate effect. It also prevents the poison from actually killing the Slayer. Unfortunately it *still* turns them into berserk killers. - Which is why the Council has a standing directive that any Slayer exposed to a Manticore is to be killed as soon and as mercifully as possible."

"Why not simply give her an antidote?" Angel's quiet voice sounded unnaturally loud in the shocked silence that had fallen over the room. "Or keep her confined until the effects of the poison wear off?"

"There is no indication that the poison will wear off by itself. Maria Montgarret went on a three-week killing spree without the slightest sign that the poison was losing effectiveness before a group of 25 Watchers managed to stop her. The poison's influence only grows stronger over time and there is no antidote." Wesley told them feeling helpless. Then he looked over at Mr. Giles. "At least none that the Council knows of."

"Is that why you came here, to see if I know of a way to cure Manticore poisoning?" Giles asked. "I don't."

Wesley felt his last hope slipping away.

"That doesn't mean that there isn't one." Angel objected. "We can't just give up without even looking first!"

"Angel, a Manticore's poison is clearly of a magical nature, otherwise a Slayer would either die of it or overcome its effects given enough time." Giles told the young man regretfully.

"Any spell can be broken." Angel insisted.

"Maybe if we knew exactly how it affected its victims, we might have a chance at figuring out how to reverse its effects." Giles sighed. "But without that, I don't even know where to begin!"

Angel began to pace the length of the room like a caged tiger. The predatory grace of his movements had an almost hypnotic quality that repelled and fascinated Wesley at the same time. Every line of his body seemed to radiate barely contained violence.

When Angel suddenly spun around to confront him directly, Wesley jumped back with an involuntary shriek.

There was a gleam of unholy amusement in Angel's eyes that did nothing to calm Wesley's frayed nerves. For a moment he almost expected the man to sprout fangs like a vampire and rip out his throat, but all he did was narrow his eyes and ask in a hard voice: "Do you know where Buffy is?"

"N-n-not exactly." Wesley suddenly felt his back collide with the wall behind him. Angel's intense stare never wavered. Wesley felt like a mouse just before the hawk's claws are about to close on it. "The C-council is looking f-for her in LA. There were reports... But I think she is here. I-I found her van next to the flattened 'Welcome to Sunnydale' sign."

"Did you tell the Council?" Angel's voice was just short of a threatening growl.

"N-no. I was hoping... The poison seemed to be affecting her more slowly then Maria. I-I thought, maybe, if Mr. Giles knew of a way to cure her..." Angel drew back ever so slightly. It was like a door had been closed, the violence hidden away as if it had never been. Wesley took a flustered breath and pulled himself up straighter, trying to pretend that he wasn't shaken down to his bones as Angel resumed his restless pacing. Wesley looked over at the others, expecting them to mock him for his fear, but they were focused too intently on the pacing figure to pay him any attention.

"Angel?" Giles asked tentatively.

"Got to trust someone," Angel told him with a mirthless smile, "just like I told Buffy."

"You've seen Buffy?" Wesley took an excited step forwards only to flatten himself back against the wall as Angel spun back around to face him.

"Yes. And believe me, if you sell her out to the Council, I'll eat your heart out with a spoon while you watch!" Angel threatened in a low growl.

"Where is she?" Giles asked.

After a moment's hesitation Angel turned away to answer the ex-Watcher. "I locked her up in the basement of the mansion. The poison is making her see things that aren't there. She attacked me because she thought I was a Sikkah-demon, but I was able to talk her into believing I was me. Sight is affected, but not touch. I'm not sure about hearing."

"Well, that's a start. We'll call in the others and start looking." Giles was already scribbling on a piece of paper. "Here is a list of books I need from the library. Oz, swing by Amy's place on your way to get them. She has some books left by her mother that might help as well."

"I'm going to head back to the mansion." Angel said throwing an impatient look at the clock on the wall.

"Here." Oz pulled his little mobile phone from his back pocket. "You're staying at Buffy's new place?"

"You know it?" Angel asked as he accepted the phone.

"Helped her move some stuff with the van." Oz shrugged. "I'll see what I can do about the utilities."

Angel nodded his thanks then simply turned to go.

* * 8 * *

Oz sat in front of his terminal in Sunnydale High's computer lab and threw a quick glance up at the clock hanging above the teacher's desk. He was cutting it awfully close. The new computer teacher would be coming in to prepare for her first class at any time, and he didn't think that she would be at all amused to find one of her star pupils using the skills she taught to break into the files of the Sunnydale Phone Company.

But he had just spent over an hour activating the phone at the mansion, and giving it an unlisted number while preventing its use from registering on the monitoring equipment. All he needed to do now was to extricate himself out of the system and not leave behind any trace of his handiwork.

He had just activated the worm program that would erase the last of his tracks when the door opened to admit the new computer teacher. Oz quickly hit the hot key combination that overlaid his current terminal screen with the one Sandy was using in the library.

"Snyder will skin you alive if he finds out you're using the school's system for your own projects." Coming up behind him Ms. Calendar looked over his shoulder. "What this? 'Magical Poisons and Their Uses'? You're not planning on using those on our esteemed principal, are you?"

Oz shook his head "A friend of mine got hit by some poison."

"What type of poison? What are its effects?" she asked concerned. "I may be able to help."

"You know about that kind of stuff?" Oz asked surprised. "Not too many people are interested in both magic and computers."

Ms. Calendar shrugged. "We call ourselves Techno-pagans. The members of my group are scattered all around the world, but we keep in pretty close contact over the web. So, what cure are you looking for?"

A small icon flashed briefly to let him know that his worm had completed its job successfully and Oz proceeded to log off. "You should talk to Sandy and Giles in the library. I'm not all that clear on the magic parts of this."

Miss Calendar raised her eyebrows slightly as his terminal screen flashed for a moment to the log-in screen of the Phone Company before it shut down, but she didn't comment on it. "Mr. Giles is the librarian here, isn't he? He is into magic?"

"He's our resident monster and demon expert." Oz nodded.

"Definitely a man I should get to know, then." Ms. Calendar smiled as she pushed herself away from the table to follow Oz to the library.

* * * * *

Angel let out a ragged sigh as he leaned back against the wall. Buffy was getting worse not better. It was getting harder to talk her back to reason and she would attack now without any visible provocation.

And he had another problem: he was hungry and he was tired. Buffy was able to catch short periods of uneasy sleep, but he didn't dare close his eyes even for a minute.

The door to the little storage room had proven no match for a determined Slayer. He had been lucky to get back from Giles' in time to stop her from leaving the mansion altogether. Having to keep a constant watch together with the frequent fights was taking its toll on him. Even vampires had their limits, especially when they hadn't eaten for a while. It helped that Buffy kept battling whatever monster she saw him as instead of the real him. It made her punches much easier to avoid when they were aimed at tentacles and tails only she could see.

Oz had called earlier to let him know that Giles, Amy and a Ms. Calendar had found a possible cure, and that they would come over as soon as they could get away without alerting Wesley.

Angel didn't trust the Watcher and was all for keeping Buffy's location secret from Wesley, but he wished they would hurry up and get here.

As if his thought had conjured them up, he heard the sound of Oz' van pulling up outside.

He saw Buffy tense at the sound of the door opening and was ready to intercept the attack she launched at the newcomers.

He heard shocked exclamations but couldn't spare any attention from his efforts to keep Buffy from getting past him. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Giles and Oz pick up a blanket and rush towards them with it held between them. They managed to catch Buffy's arms in the blanket and wrap it around her before she was even aware of their approach. The three of them fell to the floor and Angel quickly moved to help them keep Buffy confined.

A slender dark haired woman stepped up to them holding a bottle filled with a clear orange liquid in her right hand.

"Prop up her head and we'll see if we can get her to drink this." she told them calmly.

"What is that stuff?" Angel asked suspiciously even as he moved to comply with her request.

"Old family recipe." she told him with a quick smile.

"But will it cure her?" Angel wanted to know. Something about this woman put him on edge. She reminded him of someone, of danger and pain, though he didn't know why.

It was Giles who answered him. "It's the closest thing to a cure we could find." Before he could say anything Giles held up his hands and continued. "I can't guarantee that it will cure her, but I myself helped Ms. Calendar prepare it, and I can at least guarantee that it won't hurt her. It is basically a more powerful version of Lanahan's wellness potion, with some detoxification elements added into it."

"I also called an old family blessing down on it that has proven to help with a lot of illnesses." Ms Calendar added. "I figured that it couldn't hurt to add some extra fire power."

But actually getting Buffy to drink the stuff was easier said then done. Even with all four of them to pin her down, it was a struggle but they finally got her to swallow the potion.

The others stepped back and Buffy made one last try to break free just as Angel relaxed his grip on her. Her head hit the wall with a sickening thud and she crumpled into a lifeless heap on the floor.

Angel crouched down beside her and carefully ran his fingers through her long hair to make sure she hadn't cracked her skull. He froze as his fingers encountered a warm stickiness. Blood. His whole body went rigid as he fought to keep his face from changing. Oz and Giles might know what he was, but Ms. Calendar didn't, and he didn't think that this was the best time for her to find out.

"Angel?" Giles worried voice seemed to come from far away. "Is she all right? - Are you?"

"Yeah. She's bleeding, but I don't think her skull is cracked." Angel managed to get out.

"Oh. Oz, why don't you get the first aid kit out of the van?" Giles said as he knelt down on Buffy's other side. "I'll take care of it." he assured Angel.

Angel forced himself to get up and back away. He clenched his blood-smeared hand into a fist.

Ms. Calendar was watching him with a curious expression on her face. "Angel? You're... Is that really your name?"

"Yeah." Angel answered curtly.

"You look a bit queasy." she observed.

He felt queasy, loathing the fact that he was so tempted to taste the blood on his hand.

"It's the blood." Oz commented as he handed the first aid kit to Giles. "He has a hard time with it."

That was one way of putting it, Angel thought wryly.

"Oh." Ms. Calendar seemed a bit taken aback.

Angel didn't like the way she looked at him as if he were some strange animal and went over to the kitchen sink, as much to escape her scrutiny as to wash the temptation off his hand.

By the time he got back, Buffy was lying on the sofa, a clean bandage wrapped around her head.

"Here's the first aid kit. Looks like you could use it." Giles told him. "We'll stay here and help you watch her until we know whether or not the cure worked."

Angel shook his head. "I'd rather you went back to the library and kept looking, just in case."

"Depending on how strong the poison is it might take a while before you see any results." Ms. Calendar warned him.

"All the more reason for you guys to leave. Buffy would never forgive herself if she hurt one of you." Angel told them simply.

As soon as the door had closed behind them, Angel knelt down besides the sofa and took one of Buffy's hands into his. Propping his elbows on the edge of the sofa, he rested his forehead against the small hand cradled between his own. He couldn't remember the last time he had been this tired, but he was determined to stay awake until he could be sure that the cure had worked.

* * 9 * *

Buffy woke slowly. Her whole body ached and for long moments she had no idea where she was. Her most recent memories were a hopeless tangle of fighting the most horrible monsters she had ever laid eyes on - the sound of Angel's voice telling her that he was there, that he wouldn't let anything harm her, that the monsters she saw were only illusions produced by the poison. The mention of poison brought back memories of the Manticore and what Dr. Warren had said had happened to other Slayers stung by one.

She became aware of a weight pinning down her lower body. Taking a deep breath she forced herself to look down, afraid of what she might see.

To her relief it wasn't a monster pinning her down, or worse, the bodies of some innocent humans that she had killed, but only Angel's unmoving form. His eyes were closed and he looked as bad or worse than when she had first found him chained up at the Bronze. There was a grayish tinge to his skin and dark circles under his eyes. Through the rips in his shirt she could see the discoloration of fresh bruises and patches of dried-up blood.

She reached out to reassure herself that this was really Angel, not some new trick the poison was playing on her. Her hand encountered soft, tousled hair. It was him.

Suddenly she became aware that his eyes were open and watching her. Snatching her hand back as if it had been burned, she felt herself blush in embarrassed confusion.

"Uh. Oh. Hi." She managed to get out. "Just making sure you're you – which you are." Great, Buffy, she told herself, way to come off like a moron! "I didn't mean to wake you, sorry."

He straightened up and his deep brown eyes searched her face with an intensity that caused her blush to deepen. She was suddenly very conscious of his closeness and the fact that he was holding one of her hands in his.

"How are you feeling?" he asked her in a low voice.

"Like I got run over by a truck. But at least there aren't any monsters trying to kill me unless I kill them first. So I'd say that I'm definitely feeling better." She licked her lips nervously, her mouth suddenly dry. "And very, very thirsty."

That last brought the hint of a smile to his face. "That's easily fixed." He got up, but didn't release her hand. "Will you be alright here while I go make some tea?"

"Sure." She nodded, willing her blush to disappear. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm not sure I *could*, even if I wanted to."

With a nod he reluctantly let her hand slip out of his as he stepped back.

Her nerves slowly calmed as she listened to him working in the kitchen.

* * * * *

Angel came back with the tea only to find her fast asleep.

Setting the teacup on the end table he bent down to tuck the blanket up around her still form. She looked so delicate and fragile lying there asleep. It was hard to believe that this girl was one of the strongest and toughest fighters he had ever encountered.

He felt his heart go out to her and barely stopped himself from running his fingers through her hair, surrounding her head like a golden halo.

He knew that he would do anything to keep her safe, to help her in her fight against the forces of darkness that had been forced on her by the fates.

Picking up the cell phone he quietly informed Giles that the cure appeared to have worked then settled into one of the chairs across from the sofa to watch Buffy sleep.

* * *

It was late afternoon when the sound of running water woke him. Buffy was gone from the sofa, but the blanket that had covered her was now tucked around him. That simple gesture warmed him more than the blanket ever could. It also reassured him that Buffy was no longer under the influence of the poison.

Hunger gnawed at his insides, urging him to go and find a victim to sink his teeth into.

He began to pace restlessly, waiting for the sun to set and free him to go hunting for something to quiet the desperate craving that threatened to overwhelm his control. A deer would have been his first choice, but he would settle for a rabbit. Hell, right now he'd settle for a rat, even though their taste always brought back memories of some of the worst times of his life: of living in the gutter, or even worse, of the time he had spent as the Master's prisoner.

The bathroom door opened just as he passed the opening of the hallway and damp air rolled over him carrying with it the sweet smell of a warm human body, laced through with just a tinge of fresh blood. The bloodlust washed over him like a red haze and he froze as Buffy stepped into the hallway, dressed in a fresh pair of blue jeans and a simple T-shirt.

"Angel?" Buffy asked tentatively. "Are you alright?"

His eyes were glued to the spot where she had cracked her head earlier. He could almost taste the blood hidden under the curtain of damp hair.

"Oh." Buffy's eyes flooded with understanding. "When's the last time you ate?"

Unable to meet her eyes Angel turned away, trying to hide the uncomfortable mix of bloodlust and desire that raced through him.

The silence stretched between them as deep as the chasm that separated him from true humanity. He might have a soul, but he was and always would be nothing more than a vampire.

"Don't worry." He told her quietly. "I'll leave as soon as the sun is down."

"No need. Oz called earlier, he's bringing dinner. Pizza for me, liquid pig for you." Buffy told him matter-of-factly.

One of her hands trailed softly over the bruises and scrapes showing through his torn sleeve. "I'm sorry about these. - And I wanted to thank you. If it hadn't been for you…"

Angel found himself caught in her big hazel eyes, unable to look away. It had to be hard for her to feel beholden to a vampire, so he pointed out: "It wasn't me that found the antidote."

"No, you were too busy letting me use you as my punching bag." Buffy told him with forced lightness. "Well, the shower is all yours, and Oz should get here soon with dinner and some clean clothes for you."

With a nod Angel forced himself to leave the circle of her body heat.

* * * * *

Buffy was balanced precariously on the edge of a chair nailing up a thick blanket to cover the window, so she only yelled "In here" when she heard Angel asking where she was. Giving the blanket one last tug to make sure it was secure, she turned around only to freeze at the sight of Angel standing there with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist.

God, but he was easy on the eyes. It was no wonder that her counterpart in the other Sunnydale had fallen for him. Not that she was in any danger of following in her footsteps, she reassured herself firmly. That low tickle in her belly was nothing more than purely esthetical appreciation.

He was looking around the room with a peculiar expression on his face and Buffy wondered if there was something wrong with it. She had picked this room because it had been the one the other Angel had occupied, but she had never actually been in it during her short stay at his mansion. She saw his eyes come to rest on the bed.

"I haven't gotten around to putting the sheets on it yet." She said apologetically. "I thought it was more important to cover the window up first."

"You want me to stay *here*?" Angel asked in stunned disbelief.

"You don't have to, of course." Buffy said quickly, stepping off the chair. "I just thought that this might be more spacious than Giles' den. Of course, if you'd rather not…" She turned the hammer nervously in her hands. What had she been thinking?

"No! It's not…" Angel ran one hand through his wet hair and Buffy had to smile in spite of herself. So, that was why it always stood up like that. Must be hard, not being able to see yourself in a mirror. "It's just – I'm a vampire. - You'd actually trust me…?"

Buffy shrugged. "Hey, if you were going to bite me, I figure you've had plenty of chances these last – how long was I acting crazy anyway? It's all a bit fuzzy. So, no, I'm not particularly worried. Plus there is that whole me being the Slayer thing. I get vampires trying to bite me all the time. - Not that I think you would…" Buffy forced herself to take a deep breath. She was babbling again. She seemed to be doing that a lot around him. "Either way with the window covered at least you have a safe place to change. Oz went to get my van. Well, actually it's the Watchers' van, I just kind of took it, but since I did I might as well use it." Another deep breath. Better get out of here. "Okay, so. Dinner is on the dresser, and the sheets are under the bag of clothes on the bed, and this is me leaving before I talk you to death."

"I'm already dead." Angel pointed out with a smile.

"Okay, before I talk you to dust then." Buffy amended. "Hey, if you don't want to stay here, I understand. No big. For all I know you've already found something better while I was gone."

"No, I haven't and Giles probably *would* be glad to get his den back." Angel admitted hesitantly.

"Yeah, wouldn't do to impose on his hospitality." Buffy agreed quickly. "Plus, I think it might be a good idea for the White Hats to meet here from now on. There is enough room for whatever books Giles might want to bring. So, it would make it easier for you to attend our planning sessions if you stayed here. Giles' house gets awfully crowded when we're all there and the library isn't a safe alternative."

"Yeah, your birthday party kind of proved that." Angel agreed with a wry smile.

* * * * *

Angel kept glancing out of the corner of his eye at the young girl sitting in the passenger seat as he drove the black minivan through the streets of Sunnydale. He knew that her reasons for offering him a place to stay at the mansion were purely practical, but that didn't seem to stop the warmth that was melting the ice that had settled into his heart the day the gypsies had restored his soul.

For the first time since Whistler had pulled him out of the gutter in Manhattan, he felt that he might truly have a chance to redeem himself, to make up for all the horrible things he had done as a vampire. To leave his past behind and build a new life here, fighting on the side of Good instead of Evil.

Just then a thin wraith from his past darted out into the intersection ahead of them and he jerked the steering wheel in surprise.

"I thought you said you knew how to drive…" Buffy trailed off as she saw the thin, dark haired girl run right into the arms of a burly vampire.

With a curse she reached for the door handle, but Angel clamped one hand around her arm stopping her from getting out of the car.

"What do you think you're doing?" Buffy demanded angrily. "That girl is going to be dinner if we don't do something! We have to at least try and save her."

"It's too late for that." Angel was surprised at how calm his voice sounded.

He should have known better. There would never be any way for him to truly leave his past behind.

"No, it's not!" Buffy protested. "Let go of me. If you're too much of a coward to go out there…"

Angel was not surprised to see a blond haired man come up to the pair and kick the big vampire away from the girl. It was the sight of the man's face that had caused Buffy to forget the rest of her sentence. A face with a heavily ridged brow, glowing yellow eyes, and sharp fangs.

Buffy threw a questioning look at Angel as they watched the two vampires fight for a few moments before the blond picked up a short piece of wood and staked the other. He could feel Buffy tense as the vampire walked over to the girl and wrapped an arm around her shoulders and led her away.

"What is going on here?" Buffy asked. "I thought you were the only vampire around with a soul. Why did that vampire save that girl?"

"Because that isn't a girl. That is Drusilla, and you're over a hundred years too late to save her." Angel told her heavily.

"Drusilla? Does that mean that blonde vampire is Spite?" Buffy surprised him by asking.

"Spike." Angel corrected her. "I don't know why he and Dru have chosen to come here now, but I know that they are trouble."

"Then we better go warn the others and figure out how best to deal with Bonnie and Clyde here." Buffy concluded grimly.

The whole way over to Giles' house Angel kept wondering how best to tell Buffy and the others about Spike and Dru, and if they would still be willing to trust him after he did.

End of Chapter three of the Wishverse, the next chapter should be "The Enemy of my Enemy" if I continue this story (which is my way of asking for feedback J ).