Cheese (Body) A note to the reader: All right, this is the second part of Cheese. There will be four parts working out something like this.
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June 17: Intro; Part 1 (you should've already read this)

June 19: Body; Part 2 (what you're about to read; this is also the longest part)

June 19-20: Climax; Part 3 (when "it" happens)

June 20, 22: Epilogue; Part 4 (Faith sings, don't miss it!)
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Just to let you peoples know. Now, onward to the cheese!


Title: Cheese: An Experiment in Fate

Author: Lyle Brown (LyleMHD)

Summary: Cheese. It's life. It's not what you thought, when you first began it, you got what you ordered; now you can hardly stand it. No, it's not going to stop till you throw up. Anyway, You've sat through the first part, goo for you. Now here's my biggest part in the story. I kept it to a fifty-page limit and came out with fifty-five, go figure. Note that while no one is a main character, some do have bigger parts than others. Sorry.

Time Period: Alternate Universe, few spoilers (4th season)
Disclaimer: I own nothing. What I'm doing with these characters is very, very wrong, I know. Sorry again.
Rating: Hard R. Sex, murder, drugs. It's a story for the whole family!

Feedback- I love it. If you want to give me a happy, just write to me. Flame me if you like, it gets kind of lonely here. Hell, correct my spelling and grammar if it tickles your yurt. Just don't tell me about my fragment sentences.

Cheese: An Experiment in Fate
By Lyle Brown
Part 2: Body

Here we go again…

June 19th

"Oh, oh god yes! Oh, fuck!"

Bounce, bounce, bounce. It would have been comical had the only occupants to the room not been so clouded in lust.

"Oh, oh, I'm gonna, I'm gonna, I-"

Buffy let a low moan as she peaked, riding Giles with as much force as she could muster. He held her waist in his hands and was trying to keep up, but the girl was like a firecracker, bursting with energy and unattainable during the moments of the highest reaches. Giles gasped as he felt her body shudder and she ran her fingers down his chest, grazing them through his small graying hairs.

Once she came down from the third climax, Buffy lifted her hooded eyes a bit to survey her prey, his own eyes also only slightly open. They were both atop one of the large heavily wrapped bags of cocaine that had finally come into Giles care via a very reluctant contact. Having to deliver over twenty million dollars worth of illegal paraphernalia (even in the dead of night) wasn't the most comforting of tasks to undertake, and because of this Giles had to spend most of the remainder of his twenty-five thousand dollar bond just keeping the guy happy. Ripper would have never paid the extra amount of money; he would have used… other methods. But Giles had shaken those thoughts away. Ripper barely existed now, hidden in the dark recesses of his psyche, where Giles was more than happy to keep him.

Buffy started to slowly rock back and forth against him though neither had enough energy to go for the gold again. Not yet anyway.

"Why didn't you tell me before how you felt? This could've happened so much sooner."

"Not really. You were still in high school, and while I'm many things Buffy, I'm not a pedophile."

"Giles, you didn't even think of it?"

He blinked and looked away. "Well I never said that."

She grinned and leaned down over him, parting her lips. He groaned and grasped the small of her back as they kissed, passion stirring between them.

When they broke she smiled down at him. "I've been out of high school for a while now."

He nodded. "I never really thought you uh, were into necrophilia."

She laughed and resumed rocking. "If that category for some reason includes you, count me in."

He smiled back at her. "I hope you mean that."

She frowned playfully. "You want me to screw other dead people?"

"I want you to come with me."

Any facial expressions left her face then save for that of shock and surprise. It made sense that he would want her to join him on his trip, but it had never really occurred to Buffy.

"Y-you really want me to come with you? To Chicago?"

He nodded again.

"What about Olivia?"

Giles sighed as Buffy disengaged herself and curled up next to him, making a half-spoon by resting her body against his side. He put one arm around her, pulling her close to him while rubbing the other over his forehead, thinking of his situation with Olivia.

"Olivia and I have… grown apar-"

"Giles, I'm not five. Just give it to me straight."

"…She wants things I have very little interest in giving her… painful things."

Buffy smirked. "Well everybody needs a good spanking every once in a while."

"Spankings are fine Buffy, spanking is on my check list as… as long as it's just the occasional kink. But Olivia doesn't want spanking, she wants whips and knives and cattle prods and god only knows what else, and she wants it constantly…"

He looked over to find Buffy staring at him with wide eyes.

"What?"

She shook her head and rested it against his chest, glad for his warmth.

"Is that where all the scars on your back came from?"

"A few of them. Others were from… others."

She laughed in spite of herself. She wasn't surprised that he'd have secrets he still didn't want to divulge to her, and she was all right with that. It was still too early in this new type of relationship to know everything about each other.

"So, will you?"

"…What?"

"You know."

"…What about Riley, and Angel?"

He sighed again, this time out of frustration. Withdrawing his arm from around her he placed them under his head and stared up at the ceiling fan silently whirring above; a stern look on his face.

"What about them? …Listen, Buffy this is; this is your life and I'm not going to interfere or get in the way of it. Whatever you feel is right for you… that's what you should do."

"Giles I-"

"But I'm not going to wait. I can't Buffy, there isn't much time left."

"Giles, I don't know what I'm going to do." She placed both hands on his chest and nuzzled his neck. "Believe me, I'm completely aware that you can keep me happy for a long, long time, I just have a lot of options at the moment and (she kissed his jugular) as a result (a kiss on the cheek) there's too many choices in too little time." And she lowered her lips to his, breathing her warm air and licking them.

Giles gave in and placed his hand on the back of her head, forcing her lips to his. As they kissed, Buffy rolled back on top of him, running her hands down his side. He broke the embrace sharply, startling her. She frowned and looked at him questioningly as a serious expression crossed his face.

"Buffy, all your responsibilities to the world are through. You can do and be who you want, and you can… "do" and be with who you want. You have an entire lifetime ahead of you, and while I plan on living for a good long while, I can't promise you it would work between us. I can't promise you that ten or even five years from now I'll still be attractive to you. I can on the other hand, promise you that while your with me, I'll make you as happy as is humanly possible."

She smiled and kissed him lightly, and this time he didn't pull away. The kiss deepened and they clung to each other passionately, the Slayer and her Watcher, connected. After a long moment they broke apart, both breathing deeply.

Giles looked into her eyes. "You don't have to have an answer now. I'm leaving for Chicago on route fifty-one at- you do know where that is, don't you?"

She nodded. "Northwest and Maple."

"Right. I'll be on the bus to the airport at midnight tonight. My…"baggage" will be traveling separately. Flight two-thirty one, terminal seven. I won't be angry if I don't see you there. But I have an extra ticket that's in the left pocket of my vest, and it wasn't purchased by accident… Buffy, I'm not currently as much a part of your life as I'd like to be, but if you're there, if you come with me, I'll do everything I can to make you happy."

She smiled, a tear in her eye, and kissed him again. "What time is it?"

"I'm not sure, I don't remember where you threw my watch. It's probably about nine am."

She arched her eyebrows. "You up for one more?"

He smiled and rolled them off the cocaine bag, taking her by surprise. Now with her naked flesh being contrasted between the cold floor and the extreme heat Giles was putting off, Buffy gasped.

Unfortunately, just as Giles was about to take her, a cellular phone rang from beside them. They both looked toward Giles' pants, which was where the sound was emanating from. Before Giles could protest she reached into the pocket the phone was in and pressed Talk, all with the amazing grace and agility that came with her former occupation.

"Hello?"

* * * * *

"Buffy? What the hell are you doing with Giles' phone? You know what, I'd rather talk to you!"

Cordelia realized that she was practically yelling into the phone, but she was so angry with Angel at the moment that she didn't care. The one job, the one opportunity in her life, and she'd given it up for what? Nothing! And worst of all, he hadn't even had the guts to tell her in person. The son of a bitch had left her a note.

"Cordy? Listen, is this, like really important cause if-"

"Do you know what you're god damn boyfriend is doing to me?"

"Uh, uh- Hang on!" Muffled speech came from the other and of the line and Cordelia realized that she must be covering the receiver, but bits and pieces still came through.

"It..Cord....I don.....sounds pretty ups.."

"You're damn right I'm upset!" Cordelia screamed into her wireless.

Buffy went back on the line. "Uh, okay Cordelia, what did Riley do?"

"Riley? No, the other dip-shit you were dating!"

"Ah. Okay, I didn't realize you knew Parker. And we weren't really dat-"

"Who? Jesus Buffy, how many guys are you boffing up there? Next thing I know you'll probably be shacking up with Xander or-or Giles!" (She was too angry to hear the gasp) "I'm talking about Angel!"

"O-okay, so I'm hoping you'll calm down a bit here. What's Angel doing to you?"

"Ruining my life, completely! I give up the greatest opportunity in my career thinking that he's still mister cursed soul, only to get back to Los An to find a note, a fucking note on the office door telling ME, ME THAT I'M OUT OF A FUCKING JOB!"

A family in the ugly station wagon next to her began rolling their windows up and changing lanes as she forced her red convertible over fifty.

"God…Cordelia I'm sorry. I mean I can relate to Angel not saying go-"

"NO, No you can't relate! I'll admit I may not know how good he is in bed, but over the years I've gotten to know him a hell of a lot better than you ever did, and it hurts me so fucking much more cause the entire reason he did it was for you!"

"Did- did what?"

"Quit his job! And Wesley, Wesley disappeared, gone off to Bangladesh or god knows where and I'm alone, I'm alone Buffy and all just because you're god damn boyfriend wakes up one morning with a so-"

"Okay, Cordelia, stop it!"

Cordy shut up; her tear-stained face beat red from yelling so much and her voice hoarse. She leaned into her seat and kept her eyes focused on the road, dropping her speed a little to match those around her.

"Now, where are you?"

"Fresno."

A pause from the other line. "That isn't LA."

Cordelia shook her head, feeling stupid for doing so. "No, it's not. sniffle> I'm coming home."

"Okay, well I don't know what happened to Angel to make him do such a thing, but believe me, it would take a whole lot to even make me consider getting back together with him. It would take certain circumstances that he can't control coming into place, and Cordelia?"

"What?"

"Those things aren't going to happen. Not in time anyway. He's all yours."

Cordelia snapped the phone shut, cutting off the connection. A fresh set of tears was coming and she didn't want to go back into hysterics while talking to Buffy. She didn't know exactly what she wanted, or even if Angel came into play, but she knew he was the one to blame, and for what he did she could never forgive him. Unless…

* * * * *

"Now, where were we?"

Buffy smiled. "I think was about…heeere, and you were right about-"

From across the room Giles' watch began to beep.

"Dammit!" He laid his head on her breast in frustration for a moment before standing, pulling Buffy to her feet as well.

"I have to go, I have about an hour to move the coke to Barley's garage."

She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and kissed him lightly.

"What happens then?"

"Do you really want to know?"

"Yeah. It's all kind of exciting."

"A friend of mine who knows someone at airport security is going make sure it gets wrapped up, disguised and put on the plane. It's a rather large amount so another half's going on a second flight."

As he spoke they began to dress each other. Giles found Buffy's panties and slipped them back on her along with her pants, and she did the same with his boxers and slacks. He explained more of the operation to her and she seemed genuinely interested as he slipped the tank top over her head and around her breasts. They were just finishing up when a phone rang. This time it was Buffy's. She checked the ID to see that it was Riley.

"Listen, I have some things to take care of as well. I'll-"

Giles pressed his finger to her lips, which Buffy noticed as being totally uncharacteristic of him. Of course, so was smuggling twenty million dollars worth of cocaine out of Sunnydale.

"Don't tell me."

They approached the door to his home and he opened it. She kissed his finger, wetting it with her tongue. He sighed and leaned in to kiss her mouth. She grinned and met him, opening her mouth to duel tongues with him momentarily as she stepped out of the door. They separated breathlessly, Giles reaching up to caress her cheek.

"Midnight."

She nodded. "Northwest and Maple."

He smiled and closed the door to ready himself. She stepped off the porch and yelped in shock to realize that her phone was still ringing. She opened the flap, hoping to make this as quick and painless as possible.

* * * * *

Cruisin'. That's what he was doing. Just cruisin' along the streets of Sunnydale. With the violence in Sunnydale dying down (due, no less, to his own girlfriend) Riley figured his job wouldn't be that difficult. Catch a couple criminals, break up bar fights, bust some drug deals and that would be his day. He could live like this, and he'd finally be able to support Buffy. Now that she didn't have to work anymore he could work for her. She'd be able to stay at home or go shopping; doing things normal girls did. Hell, they could raise a family. He liked that idea.

The radio in his dashboard crackled to life as he stopped at the intersection.

"Car Forty-five, state your position; over."

God, he loved this job! He couldn't help but swell with pride as he took the transmitter in his hands and tried to calm himself down so that he'd sound at least a little authoritative.

"Uh, yeah base, that'd be Twenty-five and Elm. Over."

"Copy Forty-five; there's a break-in in progress at Mighal's Wiccan Shoppe on Twenty-six. Respond, over."

"10-4 base, I'm on my way. Over and out." Riley put the transmitter back in its cradle and flicked on the sirens with his right hand while steering with his left. Jerries, they're called jerries, he chided himself. Get with it man.

*

When Tara heard the alarm sound she knew she wouldn't have much time, but she'd only been in there a full sixty seconds before the sirens started wailing from somewhere in the distance. It being a town holiday, most of the stores were closed, and she had to do this today. She regretted her lousy foresight and therefore having to break in, but she hadn't done any damage that would cost anything more than ten dollars. She'd been able to find half of what she was looking for and her nervousness was taking it's toll on her appearance; she knew she'd have to get out of the little shoppe soon and apply the dust.

Luckily, the other items on her list could easily be with Ethan. And even if he didn't have them, she could acquire them from one of the two other shops around (even if that meant setting off more alarms). Suddenly a screeching noise assaulted her ears, most likely coming from some point outside of the building. She stopped her hurried breathing to listen as a door slammed and footsteps approached.

She quickly and efficiently grabbed a few of the bags from the counter the register sat at and (throwing in the amount of money she'd caused in damage and from the items she'd taken) with a few tight movements she was ready to get out. Too late, someone was outside the door, inspecting the lock she'd clumsily broken. She breathed in deeply, unable to discern whom it was. Hiding between the herb and enchantment aisles she whispered a breaking spell at the bulb hanging down from the socket above. It burst in a moment of extreme brightness, then pieces of glass fell down and sparks died out, leaving her and the cop (his keys jingling as he ran towards the light) alone in the darkness as she lost all control of the mask she wore.

*

Riley hadn't the slightest idea what the hell was going on, but he did know that he wasn't in the building alone. Someone was in there with him, moving around and whispering odd things under their breath. He shined the ray of his flashlight over various items in the building, but finding nothing he moved on to the next set of aisles.

A crash to his right made him draw his gun, and immediately he realized what he wasn't doing right. Keeping gun and flashlight trained at certain spots as he tried to home in on the intruder, he called out to them through the darkness.

"Alright, come on out. You're under arrest for breaking and entering… C'mon, I can hear you breathing."

The breathing he had heard was becoming more and more of a raspy sound, kind of like the person was trying to breathe with mucus or blood in there mouth.

"I… I know you." The voice rasped at him from the dark, somewhere in front of him. He thought he saw a shadow move between two aisles of books and decided to keep the creep talking.

"Sure you do… Come over here and we can talk."

"Riley, it's me." Riley couldn't tell if the voice was male or female, but by now he knew that whatever it was couldn't be the slightest bit human.

"Okay, that's great. Who's me? …And how the hell do you know my name?"

"Riley, you'll just have to trust me, please! Let me go, I'm your friend!"

Riley shook his head almost laughing at what he was hearing. He understood now. He'd learned of mind-reading demons while in The Initiative, but he hadn't ever come face to face with one. Not that he'd known of, until now.

"Right… Well I'll have you know Gedankenleser, that I don't associate myself with criminals of any kind! Now get out here!"

"Riley, please, don't make me-"

The perpetrator was starting to sound like Mercedes McAinbridge in The Exorcist. He did laugh at this momentarily before getting back to what he was doing. By now he'd gotten the demon pressed up against the corner and could tell by the shadow that it was trying to move but wasn't able to. It was also staring straight at him through the darkness; it's eyes glowed an admittedly beautiful golden-yellow.

"Stay right there!"

Raising flashlight and gun to the form he almost screamed as well as firing off a bullet by mistake, tearing into a shelf of magazines. It was… changing. Shapely tentacles matching the color of it's eyes were waving in the air, clothes were ripping and its face was slowly reshaping itself, growing like the rest of it's body. That face was Tara's.

"Riley… please help me."

He was too shocked to move, or even to say anything. She was …she was… NO! No, she was a demon, plain and simple. One he had never seen, she must have had her own category, and while her face didn't show anything menacing she rose over four meters. Her feet dangled in the air as her tentacles supported her and her clothes had now disintegrated completely off her body like water, revealing all of her to him.

There was no hair on her body except for that which adorned her head, traveling down in golden waves to her breasts, and… one other place Riley had a hard time tearing his eyes away from. The rest of her practically shined in the light as if she were rubber.

The only thing Riley could compare her to be was Medusa, the ancient that had terrorized the world with her beauty in stark contrast to the hair of snakes she had. But all of Tara's appendages came from her back, making it look as though she was floating as she slowly made her way towards him. Her face was now smooth and sleek like the rest of her body, and Riley realized that it was getting increasingly bright.

Tara (or the thing that had used to be Tara) was producing her own light. Riley fell to his feet, raising his gun to protect himself and pressing his back against the wall.

She looked down at the gun and shook her head, an expression of sadness on her face like Riley had never seen. She opened her mouth to speak when Riley fired pointblank at Tara's forehead.

* * * * *

"Buffy? Buffy, I'm so madly in love with you! No-no that's stupid... Buffy, I'm going to make you as happy as is humanly possibly… ah, that's worse than stupid, it's pretentious!"

Angel hit the steering wheel a few times to express his point. Damn, that caffeine really did have a large effect on how much energy a person could have. He'd be passing into the Sunnydale border any time now and was getting hungry again. Behind his black Porsche a moving van traveled leisurely, driven by a guy Angel had met on the job. He was enjoying the fact that most of the people he had saved felt they owed him a favor or two. Now he was getting a free ride for all his stuff!

He turned up the radio, listening to some of the older songs on one of the stations that only played older songs. "Paper Sun" was just finishing up and Soul Decision's "Faded" was coming in. He grinned as the wind blew across his face. He could live like this for the rest of his life, and as soon as he had Buffy in his arms that's exactly what he would be doing.

He had pictured the scenario many times over the past few days; both of them riding off into the sunset together and making love on a rocky outcrop, under the stars or in the best hotel Angel could afford. They'd take in room service and stay locked up for days, focusing only on pleasing each other. He wanted to know everything that she liked, he wanted to discover things that she didn't even know about herself and he wanted to keep her happy for the rest of her life. Angel knew that there were other things to life than sex, but after so long with so little, there wasn't much room in his greatest expectations for anything else.

"Buffy, I'm here. Now we can live happily ev- oh god no!"

He pressed his hand to his forehead, looking down for a moment and smiling in embarrassment of even thinking of using such a line. Had he been looking up, he might have seen that the sign to Sunnydale had been crushed underneath an upside-down car, its wheels still spinning. Though even if Angel had seen this he wouldn't have been aware that the car had never been driven before…

* * * * *

Willow curled up in Tara's room (which over time had basically become her own as well) and purred contently. She ran her fingers along the satin of the bed-sheets that Tara slept on; wishing her body was there as well. But as it was not, Willow simply had to make believe that she was feeling Tara's unbelievably soft skin, running her hands through her beautiful hair and staring into those gorgeous eyes. At times (during moments Willow was too embarrassed to relate to even Buffy) she could've sworn that they'd held an almost golden quality to them.

Her eyes opened a little from her reverie as she admitted to herself that there were problems. Tara was keeping things from her constantly. She'd learned that a lot of the spells she would try would work as long as Tara was not in the same room, which she was a bit disturbed by. But a bigger problem was that there was something she wouldn't tell her, something that she was keeping from Willow that seemed vitally important. Though what it was she didn't know. Couldn't, not until Tara felt ready to tell her. Willow just hoped that it was soon, like within days.

Because there was a larger problem that she had fixed. She had, a few weeks ago, come to realize that there was no way she could ever live happily with Tara while Oz still existed out there. She also knew that there was no way that Oz and she could ever be together again, so after a straight forty-eight hours of consideration Willow had decided that there was only one thing to do. The animal that had once been known as Daniel Osborne had to die. So she'd called Darien Broody with the help of a few friends she'd made over the net, and was expecting that any moment she'd get a call from the British man saying that it was done, and that she could continue with her life unscathed.

It was harsh to face the light of day, but Willow would do almost anything for Tara. Even if it meant murder. And she hoped that Tara felt the same way.

* * * * *
"Hello?"

"Buffy? Jesus, it took you long enough! Are you alright?"

"Yes, I'm fine. What's wrong, you sound out of breath?"

"Sh-she- Buffy, she's a demon. The bullet, Buffy I didn't know!"

"Riley, calm down. What's the matter with you, who's a demon?"

"Tara!"

"…What? What are you-"

"Buffy, there's no time to talk, my backup just got here. Get to Willow; make sure she's all right. If that… thing gets to her first there'll be nothing to stop it from-"

"I got it-"

"She caught the bullet Buffy; she caught it. The damn gun was a foot away from her face and she- Hi, hi, Finn. Riley Finn. Fellas', I don't know what I just saw here. Yeah, yeah, I'm new. First day on the job."

"Riley."

"Yeah, she came right at me guys, I don't know what she was. I must've fired an entire round-"

"Riley!"

"What? Oh, Buffy listen, backup is here, get to Willow's." /Click/

"…sigh>Riley…." /Click/

* * * * *

Ethan pulled up at Willy's in the Porsche and rolled down the window, trying to be as conspicuous about it as possible. The entire place looked baron, but he knew that within must have been a thriving business, catering to the whims and needs of the many demons and creatures of the night that populated Sunnydale. Why he'd gone clean and wouldn't except criminals Ethan would never know. Damn shame.

A movement in the rear-view mirror caught his eye, and upon closer inspection he saw there was a figure wearing what looked to be a potato sack over its head, running straight for his car. He reached underneath the driver's seat for his magnum but before he could even turn around it jumped through the back windshield of the vehicle with enough force to blow large chunks of glass into the back of his headrest.

"Jesus!" Was all Ethan could shout as he whipped off the seatbelt and turned as quickly as possible, pressing his back against the steering wheel (uncomfortable as it was) and trying to get a good aim on the sack-wearer. But whoever it was moved to fast and jumped on top of him, nearly breaking his spine on the steering wheel, the horn of the Porsche blaring loudly.

Now with a much closer inspection of the cream-colored creature, Ethan saw that what had looked like a sack was it's head, deflating and inflating as it breathed quickly. One eye blinked at him while the other got lost in the folds of its face.

"Xander Harris?"

Ethan blinked, his face strained from the pain and pressure on his back. He shook his head and put forth the hand not holding the gun.

"Ethan Rayne. Ugh, pleasure to meet you."

Denying his hand the creature jumped off into the passenger side, a short tail wagging back and forth. It's voice sounded slightly muffled and Ethan noticed he couldn't tell where the voice was emanating from.

"My sincerest apologies, sir. Knack-knack."

Ethan's eyes grew wide. "What did you just call me? I know Tinakish well, you insipid little bastard!"

If anything the creature actually seemed to shy back. "Once again, Fleetus, I-I'm very-"

Ethan was growing more and more outraged at the things the creature was calling him. He pointed the gun at the it's face, if that's what it could be called.

"You call me a Fleetus again and you're going to find yourself with a few more orifices than you were born with, my ugly friend."

They stared at each other in silence for a moment; Ethan curled up with his back now against the door and the creature in the same position, its tail quivering slightly and a long line of saliva dribbling onto the upholstery. Had it not been for the wheezing its head made as it breathed slowly in and out, they could've heard a pin drop. Ethan could tell that it was struggling very hard not to move, as every few seconds it would suffer from a slight tic.

With a flick of his wrist Ethan signaled that the creature should leave, but as it turned to do so he put a hand on its shoulder to stop its progress for a moment. With his other hand, still holding the gun Ethan pushed a button near the handle of his door that made the passenger side window roll down in an electronic whir. With a quick tap the creature then jumped through the now open exit, and as Ethan watched it scamper quickly off into the bar he let out a deep breath of relief. He could have easily been killed there, had it been to the creature's wishes.

He jumped as someone called out his name. But upon turning around he smiled; something he couldn't help doing when looking into those fiery, innocent eyes. He unlocked the passenger side door and signaled the she go to it. As she opened the door he put out a hand and pulled her gently inside.

"W-what happened to your window? Are you ok-kay?"

"Fine, Terry; though I believe I just met my first untamed Tinaki."

*

Anya saw the Tinaki enter and tapped her watch to show her impatience with his tardiness. He scampered over to the stool next to her and signaled to Willy at the bar.

"Please a drinks sir. Tic-tic. Bishi Oddu-"

Anya covered his mouth before he could finish the word. Of all the luck. Out of every Tinaki in the world I hire the one with Tourette's Syndrome. After a moment she stared at him.

"You think you can keep that under control?"

He nodded. "I need drink. You say Xander b-buy-bought, bought a Porsche?"

"Yeah… so?"

"I make a mistake… Never mind, Bishi, when d-do you want this?"

Willy passed the Ticker down towards the bar at him, which he promptly caught in one webbed hand. Anya passed a card across the bar to him, a stern glance on her face.

"Try not to screw this up, it has to look like a failed robbery."

He nodded and took the card with his free hand, quickly and subtly transferring it to a pocket in its flesh. "A-and then you pay me?"

"Right. Then I pay you. Just as soon as the money comes to me."

She smiled at him and stood, smoothing out her dress. "Pay my drink?"

"I-I was going to ask you."

She frowned, then opened her purse and slammed a twenty onto the counter. Throwing a look of what she hoped to be darts at him, Anya neared the Tinaki.

"Don't screw this up, Biotin. I've got too much riding on it." And with that she left him nervously quaffing down his drink through one of the many holes on his hand. But not before tripping over Spike who had chosen that moment to fall off his own stool, blocking her way and snagging the bottom of her heel with his jacket, causing her to stumble. After a moment of wavering she looked around to make sure no one had noticed and kicked him in the side before storming out of the bar. The last she heard was a shouted "Bloody Hell!" and the big trucker she had been waiting next to grunting in laughter.

* * * * *

He shifted slightly on the tour bus, his guitar in his hands as he plucked the strings half-heartedly. He'd never really considered himself a minstrel, but certainly not an artist. He wasn't sure how or where to categorize himself, and most of the time just didn't care to.

"Escuse meh sir, please no play on bus."

Not bothering to look up at the speaker, he nodded and replaced the wood back into its casing, snapping shut the locks with a certain amount of grace. He'd get off soon as the scenery was beginning to bore him, but for now he'd amuse himself by trying to understand what the tall dark man was trying to relate to the other occupants of the bus. Something about a man transported to another land to act as a savior to the world. He'd heard it many times before, but this particular one was enjoyable enough to listen to again.

* * * * *

"Really; s-so they're all assassins?"

"Well, most of the Tinaki are trained in one respect or another to be killers yes, but occasionally they can be hired out as protectors or body guards. That usually doesn't work out to well since they're prone to diseases quite easily. I'm not sure what the one I met today had… In any case, I know the kid he's looking for."

Ethan winked at her and took a sip of his tequila. "It won't be a loss to society, I'll tell you that."

She frowned and took a long gulp of her own, growing more nervous by the second to be in such open environments.

"Ethan, do we have to stay out in the garden?"

"Relax, Madam Shin doesn't let anyone in she doesn't trust. They've got mind readers Tara, it isn't a problem."

She nodded and smoothed out her dress despite her pristine condition.

"I-I…I broke out today."

Ethan almost choked on his olive and coughed a few times as it was. "Say what?"

"I di-didn't mean to, I was j-just n-nervous. I had to b-b…I had to break into Mighal's today, and Ri- uh, a c-cop got there sooner than I thought. I p-paid for wha-"

Ethan reached over and cupped her cheek in a fatherly manner as tears began to spill over her cheeks. She looked into his eyes and quieted down.

"I understand Terry, it's normal really. I'm surprised it hadn't happened earlier."

"I-it sort of happened once, almost. I was being chased by a- by a big dog and I could feel it coming. It t-took me almost h-half an hour to calm myself."

He nodded and patted her shoulder reassuringly. "It'll be okay. What happened to this cop?"

She shrugged. "I don't remember much, other than him screaming and- p-pulling a g-gun on me."

Ethan had been digging into a prime rib, but stopped at hearing this. "He shoot at you?"

She nodded but said nothing else. "Well I have to say I'm amazed. Very few people would do that to a Crinotha… But Terry there are more pressing matters I came here for. Like, for instance, why exactly you need two million dollars."

"I-it's for a… a loved one. S-she d-doesn't have much money in the bank and lost a-almost all of it on, umm, an expedition. I-if I could get that much money I kn-know I could make her happy."

Ethan nodded as he chewed on the rare meat. He spun his fork in the air slightly. "And if you don't?"

She looked down, her hands in her lap. "I-I don't know...I also w-want to soften the b-blow when-w-when I-"

"When you tell her about what you really are."

She nodded again. He stared at her for a moment before signaling to her food with his fork.

"C'mon, eat. You haven't even touched the salad."

After a moment, Tara reluctantly picked up her own utensils and started stabbing at the lettuce and radishes. For a while both simply sat in the peaceful silence of the garden, closed off from the rest of the world while sitting at their stone table, quietly eating their food. The only sound was that of birds chirping and the silverware tapping on the China.

Finally, once his plate was completely clean save for the bones and stalks of celery, Ethan dabbed at his mouth with his napkin and smiled over at her.

"Alright, I'll do it."

Tara looked up, shocked. She quickly swallowed the last bit of crab and got up off her side of the bench to embrace him.

"Oh, thank you Ethan, you r-really d-dd-don't know h-how m-much-"

He nodded and signaled for her to be quiet. "On two conditions."

She nodded and sat down. He looked at her and couldn't help but grin. It was very rare that he (or anyone, he thought) could make Terry smile as brightly as she was at that moment.

"One, you have to do a simple raising spell for me. I think we both know that you aren't the only reason I'm down here. I need to raise something to keep the slayer occupied. I know you've met the slayer, so can you think of anything, anyone?"

After a moment Tara nodded.

"Good, good. I realize you don't want to kill her and I wouldn't ask you to do that. Just keep her busy with it, what ever it is. I need time to… complete other objectives."

Ethan was about to continue but paused when a waitress, garbed in the usual attire for Shin's (black body paint, short red skirt and shirt, white Chinese mask) arrived to clear away their meals. Both waited patiently for her to get everything and put the bill down before she walked daintily away. Once she had disappeared Ethan pulled out his checkbook to pay for the bill. Tara watched him.

"Secondly?"

"What?"

"You s-said that there were two things you w-wanted from me; t-two conditions. W-what's the second?"

"Oh right. Who is she?"

Tara's eyes went wide for a moment, but she passed it over as being bitten by something on her foot. Wiping off an imaginary ant she stared back at him and cleared her throat.

"Uh, who's who?"

Ethan laughed out loud, clapping his hands together in mirth. This went on for a moment before he could calm down again, and he was still wheezing when he spoke to her.

"T-Terry there are, heh, there are very few things you can't do, but playing dumb is one, one of those things. Who is she?"

Before Tara could answer he grabbed her hand, now very little wit left in his face. "And I know for a fact that lying is another thing you're very bad at. I don't know why you'd want to, but don't do it anyway."

She nodded and as soon as her hand was free she reached for her drink, only to realize that it wasn't there. Nothing was but a vase of flowers and the red tablecloth to match the décor of the building and its employees. The waitress… She looked back up at Ethan nervously, expecting the worst from what she was about to say.

"W-W-Willow…Willow Rosenberg."

Very few things in Ethan's life had both surprised him and yet seemed so right. Of course he would never admit it to her, but Ethan could see it happening. There was one more thing he wanted to know.

"When…when did you start seeing her?"

"W-well, I've known her since H-Halloween of ninety-nine."

Ethan nodded. He felt the rage building inside him, but couldn't direct it towards Tara. He knew there wasn't a harmful bone in the girl's body, but she had knowingly kept things from him, and that she was fairly good at. He placed the check for the food on the table and ripped out another from near the back of the book, sliding it across the table towards her.

"I had this written out earlier, just in case."

She smiled sadly, knowing that he wasn't happy with her. "Ethan, thank y-".

"No. Don't you do that Tara!"

She withdrew as though he'd slapped her across the face. It broke his heart to do this, and he couldn't make eye contact with her, but if he couldn't trust her…

"Don't thank me Tara, just leave. I know for a fact that you can make that witch very happy, and you know I hope you are happy together. I wish you the best of luck, but I don't want to see or hear from you again. You took advantage of what I was telling you, and you obviously don't trust me, so why should I you?"

He paused for a moment, then stood up, dusting off his trousers. He saw out of the corner of his eye that she was crying again. He couldn't take much more of this.

"D-do you still" (Barely a whisper. God how he hated to do this to her) "w-want me to-"

"I would appreciate it, yes. Thank you."

With that Ethan turned and left the table. Tara sat and cried until the waitress came to take the check, at which point she got up and rushed out to catch a bus back to the dorms.

* * * * *

Ring…ring…ring…(C'mon gad dammit, pick up) ring…/click/.

"Officer Finn here."

"Riley, we need to talk."

"Oh Buffy, tentacles."

"Excuse me?"

"You can kill her, I know it. Just get past the tentacles, they're fast. If you can get past them you should be able to get to her body, and that's just like a normal person's body, just…"

"Riley."

"Huh?"

"Thank you. For everything. The-the time I've spent with you, I can't begin to explain how-"

"Buffy, what's going on? This is sounding strangely like-"

"It is."

From Riley's side the screeching of a car coming to a sudden halt can be heard, followed by about half a dozen horns.

"What?!"

"Riley, I'm sorry-"

"What did I do? Buffy c'mon, gimme' something to go on here!"

"You didn't do anything, I just- listen, it's not you, it's-"

"Don't you dare! Don't you even! Buffy, you are not breaking up with me. You're not."

"meekly> I'm sorry Riley."

"GOD DAMN YOU, DON'T YOU HANG UP ON ME!"

"Riley, I really, I just- I love you Riley-"

"BUFFY NO- FUCK, WAIT A FUCKING MINUTE! Okay, just wai-"

/Click/

"BUFFY!!!………B-Buffy?……Why?…"

* * * * *

"Ondi' men, coschas tudras. Mier Ondi' men. Deirde deirde, bulas Ondi men; Ondi' men, coschas tudras. As it was written, let it be shown to me now."

Willow dropped a wisp of grain into the fire, awaiting the arrival. It came shortly thereafter.

He saw her, then reached inside. He grasped the light of her soul, causing her to catch her breath violently for a moment, until he let go.

"You shall be shown what you desire, my child. But are you sure this is what you want?"

"Yes. Omni ondi'. Deirde. Show me please, I beg this of you."

"…As you wish."

At this Willow fainted dead away.

* * * * *

The first thing Willow felt was pain. Then she felt paranoia alongside the pain, but as she went deeper she saw and felt what encompassed that body. Love. A love for what, she was not sure. It was not time for her to understand that, but she did feel that it was directed outwards and not within. She felt that very little love was directed inwards. But all of this was forgotten as she heard the words and learned their meanings.

"Buschi cup contra, cup-cup hem nah verschi." Raise the behemoth, but give him no wings>

Tara's voice. If she was translating it, she knew what she was doing. Willow stopped her search for what Tara was hiding from her; entranced by the spell she was performing.

"Buschi cup contra, cup-cup hem nah bellings." Raise the behemoth, but give him no teeth>

Who was the behemoth, and why would Tara want to raise him?

"Buschi cup wannag, del fall supra nerfehr." Raise the night and let it reign>

What was she doing?

"Purd cor, cup nagg…" Protect the Girl>
"-nash to cup contra." with the Savior>

Who? Willow felt a tug at her insides, realizing that it was time for her to leave. If she stayed any longer she'd be trapped within the depths of Tara's mind forever. An enticing fate to be sure, but not now. Willow let the stream take her out, more confused than when she'd gone in, but at least now she had a purpose in mind. She had a plan.

* * * * *

"How much for the doll?"

"You Amereecan?"

He nodded.

"Teh-wenty dollars."

"You take American bills?"

"Jes', why?"

Oz shrugged. "Just didn't expect that."

He pulled out his wallet and sorted through the various currencies in his wallet until he came upon an American twenty, Adams' smiling brightly to the right as always. He put it on the table.

"Thank you. You want dis' wrapped?"

Oz shook his head and took the doll as it was, the other man saying thanks in his native language as he walked slowly away.

The current bazaar he stood in was one of the better he'd been in since… since Istanbul. Here he'd just picked up an authentic African Zuni doll for twenty (no, teh-wenty) dollars.

Oz observed the desert landscape surrounding him from within his safety goggles, the wind blowing up small sandstorms all around him. As a result his purple trench coat was swayed and buffeted along with his hair (now back to red) which he was finally allowing to grow out.

The bell-tower behind him rang thrice, marking the end of his time in this current place. He'd ditched this bus a couple miles back, but only after taking a warning from the tall dark man that full-blown sandstorms were more than common to this area. He'd have to be quick about this before it closed for good.

Their owners, who had no doubt also been aware of another sandstorm coming soon, were closing the shops in the bazaar around him. Tables and chairs were being folded, tents collapsed and camels gathered as all were preparing for the trek southward towards Ah'da'men. Oz stooped down, seemingly bowing on his knees and cracked open his briefcase.

Taking out a light five by three-inch tube shining brightly with the electricity coursing within, Oz connected it to a small, round black base, screwing it into place. At the press of the first of three red buttons adorning the base he watched as a hole at the top of the tube slid quickly open.

"Hey pal, you'd be more healthy to move yourself on outta here!"

Oz looked up to see one of the American shop owners he'd bought a candle from standing about twenty feet to his right, staring at him. He put up a hand and waved the man off.

"Don't worry about me, I've got a ride coming!" He shouted back. It was becoming increasingly difficult to hear anything over the wind, and as a result when the other man spoke Oz had no idea what he said. But the man was walking away, so he wasn't going to worry about it.

Searching the items of the briefcase one last time, Oz came up with a five-inch rod, then slipped it into the electric hole of the tube. Once he felt it snuggly click into the other side the cylinder he pushed the first red button again and grinned as the hole closed up. He just couldn't get enough of this thing. He watched around him as everyone sped up, and time literally flew across the desert plains, the small machine beneath him humming in unimaginable power.

10 minuteseconds later:

It was when his watch started beeping that Oz knew he was in trouble, and a glance at it showed he had fifteen seconds left. Not enough time. He waited another three seconds for the tube to charge, then unscrewed it (only halfway through charging, damn!) and tossed the base back in his briefcase. His watch met the ten second mark. He'd never been this close to certain death before! It felt oddly invigorating, but he had to be positive about the outcome. Tearing a piece of the recently purchased Zuni doll's hair out of it's head, Oz twisted the tube at it's midsection a slight bit until a line began to surface within. Oz quickly and nimbly placed the hair into the line and twisted again, closing it.

Reaching into the deep pockets of his trench coat, Oz noticed that everyone was gone. Nothing but him and the church he stood next to remained. Retrieving the black Mantrag from his pocket he observed the large mouth of the object as he quickly (fizz-crackle: "5 seconds remaining") but carefully slid the power tube into the Mantrag. It wasn't ("4 seconds remaining") always the most reliable weapon, but it did it's job well.

He was actually going to make it! He'd go on to the final leg and win everything back! He'd become the ("3 seconds remaining") new protector! He smirked as he readied himself ("2 seconds remaining") for the electric charge of pushing his fist into the Mantrag. It hadn't been that hard, really.

The bell rang once. What? ("1 second left") Oz turned his head, looking up and squinting at the church's bell-tower in confusion, then understanding as he saw the dark form staring back at him, looking as though he was aim-.

Oz would've laughed at his own stupidity had he had enough time. He fell to the ground from the shock of the hit to the side of his head. The last thing he saw was the electrical field surrounding the Mantrag that his fist was supposed to have been in, then distorting and disappearing; no doubt destined for Africa. Had he thought of it, he might've found it oddly amusing that of all the people he'd managed to save, the one he forgot about was himself. He hoped the next man would have more luck. No, he hoped the next wouldn't fall for the ultimate failure…hesitation.

* * * * *

Xander had never felt like whooping at the top of his lungs until recently. He couldn't believe it, but his days were actually looking up. Closing the door to the Porsche as softly as he could, he took a few steps back and observed the beauty. Nice, black and shiny…

The keys jingled slightly in his hands as he approached the door to his house, and as he stood by the door sorting through them he was thinking of perhaps selling the big lump of rotting wood. Sure it was his home, where he'd grown up and where he'd had some of the better moments of his life, but Xander was looking for happiness, and he doubted he'd find it in this place.

Finally coming upon the right key he inserted it into the lock and gave it a twist, jiggling it a little as always just so it would disengage fully. Upon entering he realized he was a little hungry.

…………………

Well, cheese sandwiches weren't on his favorite list, but they certainly were great for a body that had had very little nourishment for forty-eight hours…

A rat squeaked from the attic above.

The kitchen telephone rang on it's hook, positioned directly between two cupboards. As he reached over to grab it another rat squeaked from above. And another. His hand lightly grazing the blue phone, his mouth burning from the cheese he'd stuck in the microwave, Xander tilted his head slightly upwards and listened for anything else… Nothing.

He'd had his hand on and was about to pull the phone off it's wall cradle when a cacophony of screaming rats met his ears, sounding as though one large battle was going on and they were butchering each other. A large thump broke through his imagination barrier and he realized there was something much larger in the attic, possibly scaring the rats. Looking around for any weapon close by, Xander spotted a spatula right below the utensil drawer. He'd almost taken it when he realized what he was doing.

…………………

The attic door swung open lazily, shafts of sunlight shining through the broken wood of the roof above him. Entering the attic, Ginzu knife in hand, Xander flicked the light switch on.

A burst of electricity made him scream as the light flickered to life, then died out again. Feeling stupid for his cowardly manner, Xander looked around the room. Rocking chair, lots of rat droppings, dead rats (no biggee, dead rats were common in the attic), lots of brown boxes, Christmas decorations, small open window, more rat droppings, d-

Small open window? He never opened that window. But here it was, standing wide open, and birds could be heard chirping on the other side. Upon inspection Xander noticed the windowsill was covered in a fine layer of thick transparent goo.

Tempted to run his finger through it, Xander didn't hear the quick shuffling behind him, but he did hear the creaking of wood. Upon instinct he ducked and cowered, shaking slightly and looking up. What he saw made him scream.

At first he thought he was in a nightmare. The guy held a pitchfork in his hands and had what he thought was a potato sack on his head until he realized that the sack was its head, and worse than that, it wasn't human. He jumped to the side as whatever it was slammed the pitchfork into the floor where he'd been crouching, then quickly pulled it out again.

He had think of something and quick. Buffy! No, that was always his first thought, but she couldn't do anything for him now. The creature rushed him then, Xander screaming again and dodging to the right just in time, bringing his left hand (not the one holding the knife unfortunately) up to his opponent's head, knocking it forwards. Stunned momentarily, it stumbled forward and Xander took the opportunity to try for the door. A hand closed around his ankle though, and Xander felt himself leave the ground, flying for a moment before slamming into the rocking chair, completely obliterating it. He lifted his face from the floor (dried rat shit covering the left side of it) and looked up to see that the animal was not only on it's feet but directly above him, pitchfork raised high in the air and about to add four extra holes to his midsection.

Xander, in a last chance at saving himself launched his feet into the air and, finding support on the dusty floor with his hands, locked them around the creature's neck. He'd seen it done a million times in wrestling but hadn't tried to do it himself since he'd broken the television set. Yanking on the thing's neck (if you could call it that, it was really just a small amount of spaced between the shoulders and that pillow case of a head; there was no real bone) as hard as he could, Xander was rewarded as he felt it lose it's balance and fall backward, bringing him with it. As they both hit the floor again, Xander atop the monster and perversely straddling it, he plunged the Ginzu deep into its chest. Sighing deeply for a moment, he stabbed again into it's head and felt it shudder in the throws of death. After about the eighth time Xander stabbed a pocket of vanilla-covered flesh that burst, and out (impaled upon the sharp blade) came a small 3 by 5 card. He took it off the knife and looked closer through the transparent blood.

*****************************************
* The security lock for the basement *
* is "2001", when he bought the damn *
* thing. Not even smart even smart *
* enough to put his birth-date. I *
* left you the pitchfork in the attic *
* I'm pretty sure that'll look like a robbery *
* Oh and take some stuff too. *
*****************************************

* * * * *

Cordelia hung up the phone in frustration. Not even Xander was home. She'd had the oddest feeling he would be.

* * * * *

Parker stopped the van and put it in neutral. Less than a hundred yards away stood the Sunnydale Minimum Security Transfer Lock-Up in all it's defenseless glory. He unbuckled his safety belt for a moment and opened the door, stepping lightly out and traveling to the front of the large vehicle. Making sure everything was tucked in properly, Parker observed his craftsmanship with a smile. This was going to work.

Hopping back into the van he turned the player back on, pumping up the volume slightly and listening to the CD he'd burnt just for this occasion.

A while back he'd heard about a girl that was terrorizing the campus and one group of people in particular. Buffy something and her crew. These acquaintances of his had explained of her various bad deeds around town, so he'd looked into her a little. To be honest she was a bit of a mystery at first. Not much was known about her, but as he'd studied the crimes she had been convicted of doing, he'd grown increasingly interested in her. She and Buffy had placed each other in the hospital at one point, and while Buffy had come away almost unscathed Faith had been knocked into a coma.

Then she'd woken up and escaped to LA after committing a few more misdemeanors. He smiled. Eventually he'd gone to more…desperate methods of learning about her. It was plain knowledge around campus of what Buffy was. Some sort of savoir meant to protect them all. But Faith… she had apparently been like Buffy once. Then she turned to rebel against the authority of those over her and had become a rogue…whatever she was supposed to be. To be honest there was still a lot he didn't know about her, but he was more then willing to learn.

He wasn't quite sure why she'd turned herself in (he'd guessed it was to give herself time to lay low until everything she had done blew over) or how she'd ended up being transferred to minimum security so soon, but he was going to use it to his advantage. Slipping the gas mask over his face, Parker went over the plan one more time in his head. He liked danger, but he loved dangerous women, and Parker was in love with Faith the demon hunter.

* * * * *

Tara ran into the dorms as fast as her feet would take her, but she felt that it still wasn't quick enough. She felt like there were too many reasons why she had to get back to Willow. For one she had to tell Willow about who she was before Riley or Buffy or anyone else he might've told did. After raising A.D.A.M. Tara had traveled inside of Riley's mind to see what he was doing or if he'd said anything. Upon entering she'd been struck with eminent sorrow and anger; luckily none of it directed at her. She did learn that he had told Buffy, but something had pulled her out before she could get anything else. Then there was the fact that there had been another presence with her when she'd performed the raising spell… She was hoping with all her soul that it hadn't been

* * * * *

Willow dabbed the last bit of solution onto the board, then waited. It would only take a few more moments for Tara to reach her, then she would know for sure. Once she'd been pulled out of Tara's mind she'd performed a small spell that would bring Tara to her. Then she'd moved onto a larger one that would detect if demons were inside the room with her carrying any devious intent. As soon as Tara entered, Willow would know, though the board was spinning some already. She felt as though she already did know, but that wasn't what she was after. Tara didn't want to give her the truth, so she would have to get to it herself. Killing two birds with one stone, she would discover whether or not Tara's raising spell was harmful and if she was human. This wasn't the way Willow had wanted this to happen. She'd been given no other choice…

* * * * *

Buffy raced across the wide-open campus towards the dorm building, traveling at the highest speeds she could reach. Vaulting over a picnic table, Buffy went over in her mind one more time exactly what Riley had told her. He'd said the she was extremely dangerous, hadn't he? He'd said that she had attacked him, that she had caught the bullet he'd fired at her and that she wasn't human. The fact that she had caught the bullet automatically meant that there wasn't a chance in hell Buffy could beat her with speed. As it was students gaped at her as she fired past them, but very few things were as fast as a bullet. Buffy needed some way of getting to her, some way of throwing her off guard. For now she simply hoped that he got there before Tara did, and that Riley hadn't just had too much coffee. He was trustworthy, and that's why Buffy had faith in what she was about to do.

* * * * *

Giles huffed as he and Carl stacked the last bag of cocaine onto the pile. Both men wore sweat-soaked bandanas and equally sweaty sleeveless gray shirts. With a loud grunt he pushed the bag into place and closed the locker on the last stack.

"Carl, the rope."

Carl, an Italian man in his mid-forties (though his hair was still full and shining black, as was his mustachio) grinned up at Giles as the British man climbed onto the container and signaled him to throw the length of coil to him. He nodded and threw it, at which point Giles deftly got it, looping the rope through the four hoops at the top, tying doubled knots to make sure they stayed. He then jumped off the container and hit the concrete below.

Finding the other part of the rope he tied them together, his hands rough and course from handling heavy materials for the better part of the day. Once he connected the two ends a few times over he gave the rope a good yank and smiled at its firmness. This container, like all the others, was going to make it to Chicago in tip-top shape.

"Hey man, thanks for lettin' me in on this. It's a good deal." Carl slapped him on the shoulder and laughed.

Giles smiled back at him and walked to the garage entrance. "It isn't a problem Carl, I'll get you your pay once we land in, uh… I believe the Windy City is how they put it?"

Carl laughed again, overly loud always being a part of his nature, and saluted him. "Alright man. Well, I've got to go get the semi so me and Lewis can load these babies up."

Giles nodded, looking over a list of Barley's clients he must've left out. Carl looked down at his feet, shuffling them a bit uncomfortably and sticking his hands in his pockets.

"Which, heh-heh, which reminds me Rupert. I just been wondering… is Lewis gonna be in on this? You know, the money and all."

Giles glanced up at him nonchalantly. "I'm paying you Carl. Just you."

Carl nodded and grinned congenially at him. "O-okay man. I'll see you tonight."

Giles nodded and both men walked off in separate directions; Carl towards the front of the shop (where he would thank Barley for his time and space as most criminals felt required to do), and Giles towards the back (he'd already thanked Barley twice today). Once at the large metal shutter, Giles grasped the handle and lifted, glad to hear the squeak as it came up, folding back inside. The thing was so old that Giles feared it would eventually rust itself shut. Closing it again behind him, Giles quickly jogged towards his car at the end of the loading area.

Upon reaching his car he heard what sounded like soft thunking against a punching bag. Glancing to his left he saw something that nearly knocked him off his feet. Riley Finn, decked out and garbed up in full riot gear, was beating the ever-loving shit out of Ethan Rayne.

* * * * *

Tara burst into the dorm room only to find Willow on the verge of tears. As soon as the redhead saw her she started to cry in earnest.

"You bitch…" Was all Tara could make out between Willow's sobbing. Ignoring the remark she walked over to Willow, trying to put her hands on her in a comforting way but deciding against it.

"Please, Willow-" That was when Tara noticed the board floating in the air not three feet from them, spinning very quickly. Startled, she stared at it. A hostile demon detector. But why is-

Willow saw her staring and nodded; her face red. "Yeah, that's right! I did that to see what you were hiding! What was- what did that spell do, Tara?"

Tara, realizing the door was still open, rushed to close it. Once done she turned back to Willow who was by now on her feet.

"How- how could you? Tara, I loved you!"

She held her stomach in pain, and moved backward as Tara approached her. "P-please, Willow I d-didn't mean t-tt-to-"

Willow slapped her straight across the face. "Show me! SHOW ME WHO YOU REALLY ARE!"

She couldn't take much more of this. She knew Willow would be angry but she didn't… she didn't realize that Willow would hate her for it.

Willow slapped her again, this time much harder. Tara fell to her feet, crying now as well. "W-Ww-Will-o please-"

Without thinking Willow kicked her. Tara fell back, trying to move away but not feeling as though she had the strength.

"I would've done anything for you! I killed, Tara, blood is on my hands and I didn't care because all I wanted was you!"

Tara rose to her knees reaching out to Willow. "A-and all I w-want I-s, all I w-want is y-you-" She reached out to grab Willow, to take her hand but Willow pulled away, shaking from anger. Tara couldn't hold back any longer. There was to much anger inside Willow, there was too much pain inside herself from Willow's rejection. She began to change.

Willow watched as Tara's skin began to take on a different shade and lump formed on her back. Something was growing on her back!

* * * * *

Buffy hit the door so hard it broke off the hinges, pieces and splinters of wood flying every which way. She immediately spotted Willow in front of something that looked as though it was ready to lunge. She quickly pushed Willow out of the way and drew forth a knife, surveying the thing beneath her.

It was golden and naked; its clothes were nowhere to be seen. All she could make out was that it was shuddering slightly and it had tentacles of some sort growing out of it's back.

"B-Buffy it's Tar-"

"Was Tara, Will. It was. I don't know what it is now, but it tried to kill Riley earlier today."

Shocked, Willow looked back at the form in disbelief. "But Tara would nev-"

Buffy and cut her off, drawing a large knife from within her waistband. "I know, and this isn't Tara."

Buffy took on an offensive stance and was about to attack when the Tara-being shot up, almost looking as though she was taking on Christ's last form; her head lolling slightly to one side, here arms spread wide and her legs together. Buffy had been prepared for a sudden movement, and seeing that her body was unprotected, shot the blade forward at her stomach.

Willow was entranced. She seemed to remember seeing this being before somewhere, but couldn't put a finger on it. It was Tara (or at least it looked like her), only her face looked a little different. Not better nor worse, simply different. Then of course there was the fact that it looked like someone had dipped her in pure gold (had she not been so taken aback she would've blushed at noticing that everything she'd already experienced was still there), then stuck about eight octopus-like appendages between the girl's shoulder-blades. Her gaze was broken when she noticed Buffy about to stab her.

An appendage easily grabbed hold of Buffy's wrist, yanking a little to get Buffy to drop the knife. Frightened by the speed of the move, Buffy jumped for a roundhouse kick on it but more tentacles blocked her way, completely protecting the body behind them.

Tara was confused. Everything was going by to fast and she was more than afraid at this point. She couldn't control anything about her body, and had she been able to she would have called to Willow for help. Her defenses were taking care of Buffy but there was nothing to protect her from the overwhelming sense of sadness that was forming in her throat and the pit of her stomach. Ethan had left her, Riley had backed away from her and even tried to kill her and now Buffy was doing everything possible to do the same. Kicks and punches to her protection were doing little to her, but the fact that she could feel Buffy's (a girl she'd considered to be her friend) despise of her was hurting her worse than any of the hits could. She had to get to Willow. The last chance she had, the last person that she felt any love from.

When Buffy saw the thing moving towards Willow she almost screamed. Renewing her efforts she used it's defenses against it by getting it to grapple onto both of her wrists. Then she balanced her feet on two more tentacles and jumped.

Willow put her hands up to her mouth as she watched it grab onto Buffy and flip her over to where she was. Luckily, it seemed as though Buffy had seen this coming and was preparing to stab again.

Tara was almost at Willow when she felt Buffy use her body to jump over and get between the two of them. The blonde raised her hand to stab again, and as Tara felt one of her protections moving to stop her she got a good look at Willow's expression. It was a look of fear. Fear of…her. Tara wanted to move back, she wanted to run away; she wanted to be anyplace but here. Only she couldn't move. He body was rendered totally useless. There was another look on Willow's face that hurt Tara worse than anything else she'd ever experienced. She saw hope there; hope that Buffy wouldn't miss, that she'd land her mark.

Buffy threw one last, desperate shot at Tara and was rewarded with a slick wet sound of steel meeting, then entering flesh. After a moment the creature fell to the side, it's tentacles no longer supporting it.

Willow ran over to the body as she heard Tara trying to say something. She saw a line of red blood running along her tongue inside her mouth. She tried not to look at the gaping wound in her stomach. But once Willow looked into Tara's eyes she realized she'd made a mistake. She shook her head and cried as the golden face being cradled in her lap gasped for breath. A few of her tears spilled onto Tara's face and at this the dying girl blinked, a look of surprise adorning her face. She reached up and ran one golden hand through Willow's red mane, a smile forming on her face.

"You…you do care…I was wrong."

Willow sobbed and shook her head, taking Tara's in her hands and pressing it to her. "No, no. Don't do this Tara please! Don't leave me…"

She screamed as she felt Tara shudder, grabbing on tighter. She didn't notice as Buffy backed away slightly.

"Willow, Willow she was going to hurt you…Will?"

She didn't answer for a long time. All she could do was cry onto the body beneath her. But once she found herself unable to cry anymore, she looked up to see that Buffy was still there. Sitting with her back to the door, staring at her.

"…You gonna be okay?"

Something struck Willow. Something she remembered seeing in one of the books she owned. Buffy can't know! She nodded, pulling Tara (now reverted to her human form) closer to her.

Buffy nodded back, then silently opened the door and exited, doubtful that she'd see Willow again for a very long time. She'd done the right thing, she knew she had. No matter how painful it was, a demon had possessed Tara. She'd done the right thing.

* * * * *

"Son-of-a-bitch, I'll teach you to park in FUCKING HAN-DI-CAPPED- SPACE!" Riley accentuated every syllable with a punch to the older man's gut. The bastard not only illegally parked, but also was missing his license plates. Riley knew a rat when he saw one, and this particular rat had done the wrong thing at the wrong time.

"Uh, Officer Finn?" Both men looked up. Riley surprised, Ethan holding more of an 'of course, it had to be at this moment you showed up' expression. Giles politely waited for Riley to remove his fist from Ethan's gut, which he eventually did.

Riley smoothed out his uniform. "Giles."

Giles nodded back. "What seems to be the problem here?"

Riley smiled grimly. "Afraid that's my line now, Sir." He pointed to Ethan, who was now hunkered down on the sidewalk trying to regain his breath. "Found this guy looking suspicious walking out of the bank. Decided to interrogate him and he gave me lip."

Ethan, hand on his chest, looked up from his position on the ground. "Gave you lip?" He asked incredulously, wheezing slightly "I asked you what bloody time it was!"

Riley had to strive just not to kick him again. Casting a reckless glance at Giles, almost daring him to say anything, Riley stepped towards the Porsche. "Nice car. Are you aware a very good friend of mine owns one of these? It's very interesting how yours' doesn't seem to have any plates!"

Ethan's eyes went wide. He must've been talking about the ones he'd hijacked the car from. No, that was impossible! He had to play it cool no matter what. Standing on his shaky knees, Ethan pointed to the car. "I was driving and stopped at a diner to eat. When I came back out they were gone. I was just going to pick up new one's when I'd stopped at the bank to get some cash to pay for them." (Actually, he'd been taking out some more cash for himself. He had been planning on getting a new car so no one would ask any questions. Too late, it seemed.)

Riley had to leave before Giles began to suspect he was telling the truth. He was going to screw the guy over one more time by writing him an enormous ticket but now decided against it. "Alright, well I'm gonna check out your story, Mr. Rayne. Until I get any further evidence I'm gonna let you go."

Ethan pseudo-smiled at him. "Oh, thank you so very much sir."

Riley nodded and began walking back to his car when Giles called out to him. "Say 'hello' to Buffy for me!"

Riley stopped in his tracks, turning slowly and yelling back at him. "Say 'hello' to her yourself Giles. I wouldn't have the slightest idea where she is. Her having just thrown me to the wolves and all."

Giles smiled widely, then quickly hid it as both of the other men gave him surprised looks. He passed it off by coughing abruptly and signaling to Ethan to follow him. "Come on sir, lets see if we can't find you those 'missing plates'".

Riley watched them retreat for a moment more before stepping into his patrol car. Once in, he buckled his seatbelt and put a hand to his forehead, sighing. He couldn't believe it. What was happening to him? First he does something to make Buffy actually leave him on a moment's notice, and then he beats on a seemingly innocent man. He needed something to eat, and fast.

* * * * *

"Alright, so what did you do?"

"What?"

"What did you do to make him hit you? And keep on hitting you, in broad daylight no less?"

"Honestly Rupert, I've no idea! I had no intentions of robbing a bank, you know that's not my style, and I come out, the mother is mumbling about some chic-"

Giles waved his hand, uncomfortable to talk about it anymore. He hated to think that he was the reason that had pushed Riley to do something so crass and ugly, but he was nearly brimming with happiness from Buffy's rejecting her own boyfriend for him. As vulgar as he felt for thinking it, there was now only one person standing in between himself and the girl of a lifetime. He'd gotten from the gist of Buffy's conversation with Cordelia that Angel was back in town, and besides what Buffy said about certain circumstances, he knew that Angel's return to Sunnydale meant some serious opposition.

"Alright, alright fine. A more important question is 'why are you here?'"

Ethan stared at him for a moment, then breathed out slowly. Odd, he only used to do that when-

"You."

Giles nearly swallowed his tongue. "Y-you came here for me?"

*

"Buffy! Hey Buffy, wait up!"

She stood on the side of the street, not completely shocked at what she saw. Angel stood at the other end, dressed in a red and green Hawaiian shirt and tan khakis. He was actually wearing sandals! But the most interesting and surprising thing she noticed he wore was a smile.

And what a smile it was, all his pearly whites shining brightly.

"Hey! Notice anything different about me?"

She ran a hand through her hair. Cordelia had said one thing about him 'waking up one morning' that had disturbed her, but she couldn't remember the exact words.

"Umm, which do you mean, demeanor or choice in attire?"

It really didn't matter though. Of all the things she wasn't up for today, this had to be tops. She'd just killed her best friend's lover, or some demonic version of it…in any case, she didn't feel like she had enough-

Sunlight. They both were standing in direct sunlight. Oh my god…

Angel had finally reached her from the other side of the street.

"Neither, guess again." He frowned upon getting a closer look at her face. "Buffy, are- are you okay."

Ignore the question. "Angel, we're standing in sunlight!" She tried her best a smile and ran to hug him. "When I was down in LA… you told me you destroyed the ring."

*

"I did. I mean, I don't expect you to answer right away, but Ripper-uh- Rupert I-I…" Ethan sighed in frustration, shaking his hands in the air as though he were holding a box, "I just, I think- I know, now I know I made some mistakes along the way and… I did a few things that drove you away."

Giles nodded. "Like tying Buffy to a demon seeking your own soul? Like turning all of us into teenage morons with candy? Like overall trying to kill the people I care about many times."

Ethan swallowed, his Adam's apple popping and laying back again. He pointed at Giles, but couldn't make direct eye contact. "Right, right, like that. But Rupert I-"

"Why are you calling me that?"

"What?"

"Rupert. Why are you calling me that?"

Ethan shrugged, a reckless grin on his face. "It-it's what you go by now, right. Your first name. I mean, I know it's w-who you are now and I'm-"

"Ethan-"

*

"This can't be happening. You mean you really-"

She hugged him again, putting her head against his chest. Thump-thump, thump-thump. She laughed as she continued listening, but eventually pulled herself away.

"How did it happen?"

Angel shrugged, the big grin still on his face. "It's a long story. One I'd love to tell, perhaps over… a mocha-chino?"

He moved to put his arm around her. She didn't stop him, kicking herself inwardly for not doing so. Outwardly she kept the smile on. "I see you've tried some various beverages in this new state. Where are you staying?"

He stooped slightly over her to smell her hair. "Hmm, nice. Right now I've moved back into the old house."

She nodded, hating herself for being torn in

*

such mixed feelings. Ethan was sitting quietly on his own side of the car, completely silent since Giles had stated plainly that it wouldn't happen between them. He sighed, not wanting to end the relationship this way. Despite what Ethan had done, Giles couldn't deny that he still held deep feelings for the other man.

"Ethan, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-"

"I can't tell you that I've changed much Ripper, I really can't. But don't tell me that there isn't that flame still burning inside you. I won't believe you." Ethan wouldn't look at him as he said this; his head still pressed against the window of the unmoving car. "I won't."

Giles grimaced. "You're right. There is." Ethan looked back at him, their eyes meeting. "And I'm not going to tell you that I'm not acting on it. I am. As of right now I'm about to transport twenty million dollars worth of co-"

Ethan lunged across at him from his side of the car, taking Giles' face in his hands and pressing their lips together.

*

Buffy opened her mouth slightly to lengthen the kiss, letting Angel's tongue meet her own, swirling them together. He pressed a little harder into her mouth and she still didn't object, adding pressure herself. She hated to admit it but even if she did decide to leave with Giles tonight, she wouldn't regret this moment. Not for

*

every second of his life he would regret this. He had promised himself to Buffy and what was he doing now? Ethan practically had his tongue down his throat. He wouldn't let this, couldn't let this happen. Ethan moaned in protest as he gently pushed him away, but he didn't fight it. Ethan stared longingly at him.

"Take me with you Ripper, please. I need this, I need-"

"No, I can-"

"You, Ripper, I need you!"

They sat back, staring at each other for a moment. Giles decided he had to tell him.

*

"No, Angel no."

Angel stood back, shocked. Buffy had ended the kiss by roughly pushing him off of her. He looked hurt beyond words, breathing heavily with his hands outstretched as if to say that he meant no harm.

"Wha-what?"

She took a deep breath. This wasn't going to be easy.

"I can't- no I won't. Angel it- it's too late-"

His eyes went wide. "Buffy, too late? C'mon, I can't help nor control the passing of time-"

"And neither can I! I can't help what happens to people Angel. It's called change!"

"BULLSHIT! I won't believe it!"

She stepped back, stunned.

"Buffy, do you know, do you have any idea what kept me going for so long? Do you know why I did all the things I did, why I protected and saved hundreds, no thousands of people from death?"

She shook her head, a numb feeling coming over her.

"You, Buffy. I did it so that I could hold you again, so that we could be together until we both ran out of time and expired, and then we could spend our afterlives together! But you know what? I'm an idiot! Not for one second did I consider the fact that hey, 'when you get back to her-"

*

"She may not want you! Ripper, she may be in the throws of heated passion with another right now as we speak."

Giles said nothing, but simply let Ethan simmer.

Ethan banged a hand on the dashboard so hard he thought he'd broken a knuckle for a moment. Worse, it didn't even dent the car. He opened the door, looking back at Giles as he did.

"You know what? I hope she doesn't trample on you! I hope she doesn't have someone else that she finds more suitable a lover than yourself, because if she does you're going to have to realize exactly what and who you gave me up for! Goodbye 'Rupert Giles'!"

He'd spit the name out as though it were a bad taste in his mouth.

Damn it! "Ethan, wait!" It was no good; the man was gone.

* * * * *

She hugged him as tightly as she could, not wanting to let go. Tears were in both their eyes, but neither wanted to let it show.

"Buffy…who?"

"…Giles."

His heart had been at the breaking point, and that had cinched it. He stumbled, almost falling had it not been for Buffy.

"I'm sorry-"

"Please don't tell me that. Just… go away."

He pushed her off of him. He almost let his feet go again but managed to upright himself in time. She shook her head.

"Angel, I'm leaving tonight, I'm flying off and I am not coming back! Don't do this to me ag-"

"NO! This time it's your turn Buffy, cause I'm not leaving this spot."

He stooped down onto his knees. It didn't really matter, the street was practically clear of all pedestrians, but he still made his point.

"You're going to have to walk away from me this time Buffy. See how hard it is to do. If you really feel nothing for me-"

"Angel I do feel for-"

"If you could give more and want more from that man than you do from me, if you think he'll strive to make you happier for all of your life… then walk away from me right now and don't look back."

There were very few moments in his long and arduous life that hurt as much as watching her walk away from him then.

* * * * *

"Another, sir?"

"Hmm? Oh, yes. Thanks."

Wesley was trying to remember everything that had happened in the last forty-eight hours. It had all occurred so fast.

After he had found Darien's 'present' in the garbage he'd gone to his hotel and put it together, testing it's length and weight in his hands. It just felt right, him holding it.

He'd been so excited; he'd had two jobs! He also couldn't believe the blind luck of Daniel Osborne being in the same country at the same time! He'd come down for his first assassination of Lewis Trabewski, a business class guru who was making life difficult for some former compatriots in the states. But that was still a few days away. For now he'd found someone to practice on.

His phone rang, disturbing his memory temporarily.

"Hello?"

"Hey man! How'd it go?"

"For my first, very well I think. I was off target about an inch."

"Side of the chrome?"

"Right. He didn't go immediately, but it's not as though it took too long."

"Relax Wes. I was off the mark with my third. So much so that he lived. Had to wait and take care of him for good after they took him out of ICU."

Wesley smiled at this. It was good to see that there were decent people in the business. Darien wasn't one to hide his faults, nor to flaunt them.

"Yes, well I believe I'm going to have a few more Dakari's and Martini's, then I'm going straight to my hotel and to bed."

"Tired?"

"…Not particularly."

"Right. Well don't stay in Madras too long. Bad for the mind, all that dust."

Wesley laughed. "Right. Thanks again Darien, for letting me use your ID to get my first customer."

"Don't think twice about it man. Just get to Wennie's as soon as possible. Little Louie may not be here for very much longer."

"Oh, I can guarantee that. But only at the end of my sight."

"Nobody else's, babe."

"Mr. Broody, you have a good night."

"And the same to you, Mr. Wyndam-Pryce. Oh, one more thing."

"What's that?"

"This could be the beginning of a-"

"Please don't finish that sentence."

Both laughing a little, they said good-bye once more before hanging up. The waiter came back with his Martini. Wesley was going to give him shit for taking so long when a shot rang out through the bar.

Wesley drew his silenced pistol from the inside lining of his jacket and dove to the floor below, aiming at the source of the noise. His finger swayed slightly on the trigger.

A group of thin, dark men in white robes and turbans met his gaze, all staring very frightened back at him, their hands in the air. One took a chance and pointed to the chair beneath him.

"Voorzitten de baard in de keel hebben!"

Wesley sighed. The man's chair leg had snapped. He put the gun away, waving his hand reassuringly at them. But just to be sure he sat at the other end of the table, watching the men out of the corner of his eye.

Delving back into his memory, Wesley came up with when he'd sneaked into the abandoned church, a small briefcase in his hands. It had taken him a few minutes to find the very dusty entrance to the tower, but once he had it had all been like clockwork. He'd jumped between the rows of rotting and cobwebby pews, setting up his gun once he'd reached the other side. Opening the case, he'd slipped out the long body of the gun and set it next to a silencer and bullet casing. He'd felt it was safe enough to take the gun with him, so he'd entered the bell-tower.

Once inside he'd traveled down the lengthy corridor and reached the other end to find a very strange contraption on a large table in front of him. Also on the table was a long rope leading upwards, tied to the slowly spinning device and another rope ladder. Ignoring the device Wesley had climbed the rope ladder as his watch signaled the hour to him. A few seconds later the bell above him also chimed three, nearly making him lose his footing and fall from sheer surprise.

Once he'd recovered from the shock and ringing in his ears (the contraption must've been some sort of clock that automatically pulled the bell at appropriate times to chime the hours) Wesley had opened the trapdoor above him and crawled inside the small head of the tower.

He'd spotted the other man immediately without the help of the sight of his gun. He stood about twenty feet below Wesley, letting the dust and wind swirl around him. The man made a sudden movement that caused Wesley to start momentarily until he saw that the other was merely stooping, working on something beneath him as the storm approached.

Wesley had taken his time to set up and a short while later was watching the man through the scope of his sight, his trigger finger itching. He'd known that a professional would take the first good shot he could get if there wasn't much time, but Wesley had wanted more of a challenge than this. It had all been too easy. He at least wanted to give Daniel a fair chance to look at who was stalking and closing in on him, so he'd reached a foot over and kicked the bell roughly.

The man had looked up and Wesley had had the oddest sense of dejavu. He got a fairly clear picture of the man's face (despite the dust and the man's wind-goggles) as he looked directly back at him, but he couldn't place it. He'd never been that good with faces. His shot had been broken off target when he saw the man start to smile. Had he not Wesley knew it would have been a clean bulls-eye to the middle of the forehead, but he wasn't complaining.

By the time he looked up from his fifth Martini the bar was empty, save himself and the turbans he'd threatened earlier. He laughed quietly at his paranoid action, wondering if this was going to be how the rest of his life turned out until that one bullet with his name on it found it's place in the back of his head. He'd decided that's where it would go since he didn't think he was or would ever be so bad that he couldn't see death coming from inside his line of vision.

Something the one turban had said to him struck Wesley as odd. 'Voorzitten.' Nothing wrong, it meant chair… in Dutch. Why would black men living in India wearing turbans be speaking Dutch? Wesley picked up his jacket and left the bar, avoiding the taxi that had magically appeared for him. He never went back to his hotel that night, instead choosing to wait until morning a couple streets across from it. He slept in an empty dumpster smelling strangely of roses.

* * * * *

The weight of Tara's body strained her muscles and an increasing amount of sweat was lining against her brow. Willow wasn't crying anymore, but with every step she took she fell into more and more of a state of despair.

If only she'd listened to what Tara'd had to say! If only she'd had more faith… but it didn't matter. There was still something she could do, there was still something she could try to make all of this right again.

Surprisingly few people were out on the streets of Sunnydale on this particular day, as was shone by the lack of anyone stopping to take notice of the girl carrying a lifeless body down the street. Though it's doubted that had they seen her anyone would have stopped anyway.

* * * * *

"A dozen please."

"Roses? Good deal lady! I give a special just for you, twenty-five dollars."

"Thanks!"

Olivia slid her purse off of her shoulder and rummaged for a twenty and a five. Finding both after a moment she tossed them on the makeshift table, the scruffy man handing over the bright red roses.

He shrugged. "It's off-season."

She was walking across the street and back towards the apartment when it occurred to her that she and Giles had just been to the park the other day, looking at the flowers. She had seen the stand just sitting there and had summed it up to buying on impulse, but as she stood below a darkening sky holding a bouquet of roses, she began to reconsider the purchase.

The other day she had finally told Giles what she wanted from him and they'd had an argument over it. He'd said that he didn't want to hurt her and she'd said that that was the point, that a certain amount of pain heightened the pleasure. Someone had once told her that pain was the most liberating of all the experiences one could have, and she believed it whole-heartedly. But Giles had said that he hadn't realized that he'd been going rough on her all along, that he'd always considered himself gentle when intimate. Then she'd reminded him of what he'd told her of his earlier days and he'd gone quiet. She hadn't liked that.

Perhaps she'd been thinking too much of herself and not enough of him. Maybe he was doing the same. She wasn't sure, but she was determined to make it-

A tall, dark man broke her train of thought when he'd bumped into her, knocking her to the ground. He didn't stoop to lend a hand, but instead kept on walking. She was going to let him go until she saw the flowers, some partially crushed underneath her and others with their thorns sticking out the side of her purple velvet coat.

"Hey, you there!"

He kept walking as though she didn't exist. She ran up to him and pushed him. He stopped, but her push didn't even cause him to stumble.

"Hey, you asshole! Look at me when I'm talking to you."

He turned around, and she saw that he was very handsome, but not as much as if his face hadn't been so puffed and if tears weren't lining his cheeks. Seeing this sight took more than a little fight out of her.

"You're English."

She nodded, eyeing him carefully.

"S-so?"

"I was English once. Guess that still makes me English but what the hell, I hate the English of today. Personally I wish you'd all just burn in hell."

Her eyes widened, shocked. Strangely though, this only made her feel more pity for the man.

"Wh-why would you say something like that to me? I've done nothing to you."

He stood there and paused, breathing heavily and looking like he was deep in the midst of turmoil.

"I know that." He shrugged. "I hate you anyway." And with that he began to walk away from her.

Not one to be stood upon Olivia reached out and grabbed the lapel of his coat. Sighing he turned again.

"So then you pushed me down on purpose?"

He shook his head. "No, no I just wasn't looking wh- oh god. I need to go somewhere and get drunk."

"No! No, drinking is never the answer to your problems."

He threw his hands wide as if pleading with her. "What do you want from me lady? I'm sorry I pushed you down but you look okay to me. Just leave me be."

"Yeah well, well you've ruined my roses."

She pushed them in his face to show him so. He looked at them before sighing deeply again and looking back at her. "What do you want? I have no money on me."

She figured he was lying seeing as how he was just planning on going somewhere to get drunk, and for drinking you need beer which costs money; but that wasn't what she wanted.

"Why do you hate the English?"

He nodded for some reason. "One of them is screwing my girlfriend. Well, used to be my girlfriend." He sat on the sidewalk and ran his hands through his hair.

She sat next to him. "Did she just leave you for him?"

He thought about that for a moment. "No, we never had a chance to get back together since I left her." He waved a finger in the air. "But I'd thought that true love could conquer all, and what we had was most definitely true. I thought she'd wait for me…"

Both of them stared up at the sky for a while. The moon was just coming out, though the sky was still more blue then it was navy, except for the line of dark storm clouds forming around.

"Who was it?"

"Hmm?"

"Who was the guy that took her from you?"

"Her Watch- uh, some guy named Rupert."

She stood up quickly as though something had bitten her. "Rupert?"

He nodded, now slipping back into realizing what he'd just lost. "Yeah, Rupert. Rupert Giles-"

"NO!" She yanked at her hair, stumbling a little and unaware of the shocked expression on his face. "It can't be! This isn't possible. That, that bastard!"

Dropping the roses she ran off towards no certain destination. She just wanted to scream.

*

Angel watched as the black woman ran off.

"Yeah… that's how I feel about him."

"Not looking too good, stranger…"

He looked quickly to his left, then stood at what he saw. "Darla!"

She stood there, blood on a shirt he doubted had been hers, and smiled at him. He smiled back and stumbled towards her.

"So-so I suppose you've come here to kill me?"

She nodded. "You'd like that wouldn't you? For me to take the pain away? Sorry Angel, now my heart is beating too. I've been watching you for a while ya' know. And I like what I'm seeing."

He stood back. "How did you get out?"

She shrugged. "I'm not sure. I woke up next to a dead priest."

"You alive?"

"Yeah…"

Angel moved towards her, arms outstretched. "What was I supposed to do Darla?"

"Get away from me."

He didn't listen, grabbing onto her jacket and forcing his face onto hers. "What else was I supposed to do? I did every fucking thing I could!"

She violently pushed him to the ground. "I said get the hell away from me." She sounded more disgusted than angry.

Thunder rumbled above as he screamed at her. "She was everything to me! I worked to no end for one reason, and when I get back that bastard has just taken it away from me! IT'S ISN'T FAIR!"

She reached down and slapped his face roughly, screaming back. "LIFE ISN'T FAIR ANGEL, GET OVER IT! Get a fucking helmet, you shit!"

Angel shook his head, her words not quite reaching him. "There was nothing I wouldn't of done for her-"

A light rain began to fall as Darla cupped his chin in her hand, forcing him to look in her eyes. "And there was nothing I wouldn't of done for you! I came back to America; I hunted after you and fed alongside you! Only while you were drinking from a pig or robbed blood banks I fed from the innocent! I waited Angel, and for what? Tell me that!"

He shook his head, not quite understanding, pain etched on his face.

"DEATH! You killed me Angel, or don't you remember, you worthless drunk!"

He stood up, defensiveness taking place of his emotions. "I've been completely sob-"

"For how long Angel? How long until you delve back into the bottle and suckle yourself lifeless, just like when I found you all those years ago? You were nothing and I made you something better! But now you're drowning back into what you were before, and I've got news for you! No one's gonna be there to take you in this time Angel. No one's gonna watch your back!"

Had he not been so wrapped in his own turmoil, Angel would have been surprised to see that during her rant she had taken on more of a desperate tone than anything else. And now she stood before him. Waiting.

"…I…I only want one word Angel. I only want one thing."

Darla was on the verge of tears as she realized Angel wasn't listening anymore. She walked over placing her hands on his shoulders and shaking him.

"Angel! Angel, ple-"

He shrugged her off; his mind made up on something. He simply couldn't figure out what it was yet, but as the rain began pouring down harder he left Darla standing, a hurt expression on her face. He'd left her again.

* * * * *

Lawrence awoke with the rain. It fell down upon him from a hole in the ceiling, soaking his torn and twisted face, clinging to the outsides of his body, beading on the metal-incased portions of his skin. He blinked a few times, covering his eyes to protect them from the falling water.

As he stood up he realized that he had no memory of anything after the operation had begun. They had gassed him and that was the last that he could think of. How long had passed. Where was he now?

Blocks of charred metal stood around him. Bloodstains of varying colors covered the metallic walls. It looked as though some sort of epic battle had been fought here, though there were no bodies to prove that any such thing had occurred.

A shuffling to his left made Lawrence jump; looking wildly for whatever had caused the noise. Something was behind what looked to have been a table at one point. He reached over and pulled it away. A woman was sleeping there, breathing heavily. Her face was covered in soot and she held a cheap plastic bag in her hands. He realized she must have been homeless…

A small red glow was on her body. Ignoring this, he lightly shook her out of slumber. Clutching the bag even tighter the woman awoke and looked up at him. For a moment they just stared at each other, both incredibly still. But when he made a move to put a hand forward and offer her help up she screamed, throwing her bag at him as though it were a weapon, then ran off still screaming when he backed away.

Confused, Lawrence spit up a bit of bad taste in his mouth. This wasn't rain that was falling down from holes all in the ceiling; it was water, obviously contaminated. At a closer look he noticed the water spouted from broken fire-safety valves and water pipes, and that these tubes were surrounded by packed dirt. He was underground. As he made his way around, trying to discern one EXIT sign from the next, he kept seeing a red glow in spots everywhere. Then he caught his reflection going by in a broken mirror on the wall…and screamed.

* * * * *

"33068? 3-3-0-6-8…"

"Yes?"

"Get you're food…"

Faith rolled off her bunk to walk the five feet to the cell bars and pick up the tray. Since the break-outs more and more cells had become empty in Orange County, and because Faith seemed to be cooperating the authorities had deemed it fit that she was to be moved to a state facility in Minnesota. But before this could happen she had to go through a transfer prison while waiting for the correct papers to be signed.

She found it more than ironic that the minimum-security transfer prison she'd been sent to was located in Sunnydale.

"Alright, call me when you're done."

She furrowed her brow. "Why?" The question was asked in a deep, lustful manner. She didn't do it purposefully anymore; it was simply the way she'd grown accustomed to speaking.

"Because I want the tray back girlie."

"Oh… Right." This was odd; she was actually being given as long as she wanted to eat. Well, there's Sunnydale in a nutshell. She nodded her understanding and the figure walked away, footsteps echoing along the stone hall.

…………………

Faith was in a light slumber when it happened. At first she heard the roar of an engine, then the squeal of tires on asphalt; and the noise was getting closer by the second. Faith stood up from her bed and positioned herself by the bars, peeking out to get a look at what was going on by the front desk.

A fan swung lazily above a polished redwood desk, stacked with pens and papers along with half eaten Chinese take-out. She knew the officer on duty had probably been snoozing himself, his feet on the desk and a hat over his head when the noise had occurred. Now though, he stood at the ready, gun drawn as he slowly circled the room, listening for even the slightest inclination that whatever had been there still was. The deputy saw her watching him and shrugged back at her as if to say 'beats me.'

"Look out!"

She had just enough time to warn him when she'd seen the very large object lumbering dangerously close towards the building at breakneck speeds. From her view in the cell she could just barely make out the front door.

The officer looked behind himself and screamed, diving out of the way just in time to narrowly avoid being crushed when the big van rammed through the glass entrance, a billowing cloud of smoke rising in it's wake. The smoke was extremely fast moving and was flooding the entire building… Because of this Faith could only see the outline of the form jumping out of the car and pointing a gun at the deputy.

It was only when she heard the officer coughing loudly that she realized the smoke must have been tear gas. Volatile chemicals that were at this moment streaming down the hall towards her. She heard keys jingling and footsteps approaching, then out of the rising wall of gas a figure appeared, a high-tech facemask protecting him. He shoved another through the bars at her as he began to unlock the holding cell.

Not having to be told twice she put the mask over her hair and face, making sure it fit tightly before using a thumb at the neck of the mask to flick on the filter. She'd seen these before. The mysterious savior pulled her out after unlocking the door, both of them running down the hallway as fast as they could. Once the reached the van (reading "Sunnydale Crisis Control" on it's side) he pulled out a pair of pliers and snipped the lines connecting the gas propellers to the bumper, then stuck them under a tarp in the back. Closing the back doors he leapt inside, signaling for her to do the same.

But all Faith could focus her attention on was the body of the man on the floor. Through the vision of her mask she could see him inside the mist, lying on the floor. Memories of other bodies flooded back through and from the recesses of her psyche. Some demons, others…not.

A hand grabbed her shoulder, startling her. She heard his voice through the sockets of the filter, making him sound grainy and mechanical. He'd probably set it that way so that no one would recognize his voice either.

"I just knocked him out. Let's go."

She nodded through the black gas mask and entered the van shotgun.

As he pulled them out of the wreckage, streetlights glimmering like freedom in the soon-to-be-night sky, she knew she'd never get that chance again.

* * * * *

"You bitch! You heartless, self-centered, cruel beyond words whore of a BITCH! GOD DAMN YOU!"

"Oh what, what else could I do? You were goi-"

"Don't give me that crap-"

"You didn't even let me finish, I was saying that you were going to leave-"

"Leave you, yes I know, but I wasn't…Jesus, I would've given you everything! But you know, maybe I'm not as stupid as you think I am. I changed that lock two months ago! The idiot you sent after me had to sneak in through the attic!"

Anya was amazed. She'd never made Xander this angry before. Sure they'd had their fair share of arguments, (well probably more, since he was human and had been so all his life) but it was nothing like this. She hadn't really considered what his reaction would be had he survived.

"And that's another thing Anya, a pitchfork is not a good weapon if you want to make it look like a failed robbery!"

She placed her hands on her hips. Like he would know. "Really, fine. What would have been?"

He threw his hands in the air, exasperated. "God, I don't know, a GUN maybe?"

She bit her lip. "I had considered that."

He only stared back at her for a second before screaming again. She moved over to the couch and sat down, watching as he started to pace in front of her. Outside, thunder rumbled as lighting struck some certain point in the distance.

"I-I mean how did you expect to get the money?"

Anya looked up at him as though he wasn't all there. "Well, duh. Once they saw that you had died it would go to me."

His eyes widened in disbelief, his hair falling over his eyes and his muscles bunching through his shirt as he breathed heavily. Anya unwittingly matched his breathing. She was actually getting a little turned on by his crazy demeanor.

"Why? Because you date me?"

"Yes, because I date you. I've dated you for a good long while."

He stooped, placing his elbows on her thighs and his hands on her waist.

"Just because you're my girlfriend doesn't mean the money goes to you!"

"It doesn't?"

"No, we have to be married for that to work."

Her eyes brightened and she grinned. "Really? Let's get married!"

He stood back up, gritting his teeth in frustration. "I don't believe this! You really want to kill me!"

"No I don't, I just want the money!"

He took her completely by surprise when he slapped her.

* * * * *

"Hey, Blondie!"

She turned, rain falling down faster and harder as the night drew on. Spike stood not five feet from her, standing in the middle of the road.

"Oh not you! I don't have the time or the patience Spike!"

"Oh-oh, I'll beg to differ pet! I've got some very interesting news for you! I found this out when some piss-drunk truck driver kicked me in the bar today…"

She sighed, but the way he was grinning at her did strike her as a bit funny. Not funny like 'ha-ha', more funny as in a 'please don't feed the animals' kind of way. "What?"

He stopped smiling, a little annoyed. "I said that I begged to differ, that I've got-"

"Yeah, no I heard that bit. I meant 'what' like 'what do you want', not 'what, I can't hear you'."

"Oh… Well see now you've taken all the fun out of it."

He stepped towards her, both of them now standing directly under the shine of the red-orange street-lamp. She almost felt like backing up, but this was Spike.

"Taken the fun out of what?"

"This." He punched her so hard she slammed against the wood of the post, shocked as a bit of blood from inside her now broken lip began to trickle down and mix in with the rain.

He shook his hand a bit from the pain and laughed at her confusion. "No actually, that was still pretty damn amusing!"

Not wasting time questioning him on his newfound reacquired abilities, she launched a roundhouse kick at his head. He whooped with enjoyment as he grabbed her leg in mid-air, lifting it up and yanking, knocking Buffy off her feet. Once down and a bit winded, she saw him advancing on her. She placed both feet in the air and kicked forward, connecting with his chest and watching as he sailed through the air and back into an alley at the edge of the street corner.

Jumping up and running over to join him she was surprised to see that he had vanished. All she saw was a black, unbroken window two stories up and a few stacks of crates, the biggest of which standing next to- He barreled into her, jumping off the crates and throwing them both to the ground. He was up first, and Buffy cried out in pain as Spike yanked her to her feet by the wet ponytail and slammed her against the gray brick wall.

Seeing he was rushing up to her she backed up slightly, then took a jump at the wall, running up the side as he ran beneath her, then vaulting off and sailing through the air to land where he had stood. She heard him grunt in appreciation for the move before she drove both fists into his face, crushing him against the wall and leaving him dazed momentarily.

At least long enough for her to land four more punches to his abdomen and a sweep to his feet with her own, causing him to fall to the wet ground below. Taking advantage, Spike rolled towards her as she lifted one leg to step on his neck, throwing her off balance and into a large puddle. So large that Spike could turn her over; shove her face roughly into the murky water and begin to suffocate her inside it. Which is exactly what he was trying and succeeding at doing until she lifted an elbow up roughly, slamming it into his jaw and pushing him off of her. She gasped for air, grinning madly as she saw through shades of purple and red the he was bleeding heavily from the hit.

Unfortunately she overestimated his shock at the blow, leaving her mid-drift completely unprotected as she tried to lift herself to her feet. Spike kicked forward with both legs from his position on the ground, driving them onto her and making her fly to her left and curl up in pain. Grinning, he got back on his feet, wiping at his torn lip and moving towards her, stumbling slightly. Lifting his arm he started to dive down onto the cowering girl when she suddenly shot her feet up in the very first move he'd fallen for, only now there was nothing to break his fall save for the crates and a wall. At which he promptly broke through them, landing on his ass amidst a barrage of dead and rotting fruit.

Also still sitting on the ground, Buffy considered making a move for the broken pieces of wood he'd made, but she realized there was more than one reason they'd fallen apart so easily, despite the power of the kick. The wood was completely rotted through, not to mention soggy. It probably wouldn't even break the skin.

Both of their watches beeped the hour.

They stayed where they were, breathing heavily; neither moving nor leaving the others gaze. After what felt like an hour, Buffy spoke first.

"You got somewhere to be, Spike?"

He brought his hand up to his mouth, nodding as wiped more blood away.

"You?"

She nodded back. "Limited time offer."

He shrugged, wiping a bit of crushed guacamole of his leather jacket. "We could continue this at a…later date."

"We certainly could. I'm sure I'd find and kill you eventually."

He laughed. "I have the same fate in mind for you, Slayer."

They both rose to their feet, weary of the other. "So seeing as how we're at an agreement, we'll just walk away from each other now."

"Right…At the same time and all."

Buffy brushed off her leather pant legs. "Count a three."

They both took deep breaths and, seeing the other was doing so as well, cut them short.

"1…2…3!" Neither moved until they realized what they were doing. With a sigh, Buffy and Spike forewent the dramatics and simply walked away from each other. Both vowed silently that one-day they would meet again. For the last time.

* * * * *

Joyce rode along the slick wet pavement, dangerously close to the ditch alongside the road. Her black Jeep had seen it's fair share of accidents, though nothing too bad had happened to it. Yet… in Sunnydale she knew you could never be too careful.

She hummed along to a vaguely familiar tune but her heart wasn't really in it. She'd quit her job today, that being the highest point of pleasure she'd had in a while. Though she wasn't sure what she'd do with the rest of her life, Joyce certainly wasn't going to spend it all wasting away in Sunnydale. Besides, it was worth it just to see that asshole of an art director's face when she'd finally told him what she thought of him and his 'valued work place'.

A brilliant flash of lightning struck a tree branch a few hundred yards away, scaring her half to death and forcing her to pull off the road in shock. She couldn't get the ringing out of her ears and pressing her hands to them didn't help. But one thing did bring her out of it after a moment or at least put her concentration elsewhere. It was the oddest thing. When she'd pulled over she gone slightly in the ditch, and because of this she was now facing at a downward angle.

There, lying in the ditch, every time lightning struck (and as the storm raged it did so often) she could swear she saw the body of a child. Opening the door risking the large, cold raindrops and chill wind, Joyce ran for the long dip in the surface of the ground, slipping slightly in the wet dirt and mud as she reached it. She had to quickly reach out and support herself by putting her hands in the mud. She slid down the embankment, caring less and less about her jeans as she ran for the body, rain absolutely soaking her.

The water level was rising by the minute and the kid was on it's side, half his face covered in the murky filth when she finally reached him and pulled him out. She could see he was smeared all over and noticed that he was without clothing beneath the tattered brown robe he wore. Joyce was lowering her lips to his for mouth to mouth when his eyes opened and he smiled a little, looking at her. She picked him up from the ground, almost smiling back as she started to carry him.

As they passed under another tree while crawling back up the side of the ditch another source of lightning struck it, and Joyce could hear they air frying around them. Something was going down...she just hoped she could get him into the car and to safety outside of Sunnydale before whatever it was struck.

Placing him inside, Joyce went around back to the driver's seat and hopped in, starting up the car and screeching the tires as she sped off into the night. Soon she'd enter the midsection of town and then she planned on taking the exit out. Her bags were already packed and she had her traveler's checks in her wallet. At first she'd planned on taking a plane, but as she looked down at the small bundle sitting next to her she decided that there was nothing wrong with taking the bus. Maybe they'd go to New York for a while.

She almost laughed at herself. The boy had to have parents, right? Then again… she glanced nervously at him. No. No way. He looked as though he'd barely survived since birth, and he seemed to be about six or seven now. No one would let their kid turn out looking like that. And if they did they didn't deserve to be parents. She smiled for the first time in along time, her mind made up. She'd keep him for herself. He'd be much better off with her than no one. She just hoped that her luck with kids had changed. That this one wouldn't have to fight demons. It was a silly thought, but she considered it nonetheless.

…………………

Collin looked at the women strangely. Why was she doing this for him? He'd hid out in a barn and waited for nightfall, trying to discern what had happened to the priest. He couldn't remember. Unfortunately he'd fed off a horse once night did come, and apparently that hadn't been the wisest of ideas. He'd fell down from exhaustion (and perhaps blood poisoning) eventually.

But now there was a woman. Someone who kept smiling at him and petting him as she drove in the car. She'd even turned the radio on and was presently singing along in earnest. He bared his teeth a bit with out actually changing, imagining what her neck would taste like.

She reached a red light, stopping the car a bit and tapping the steering wheel while waiting for it to change back. He took this as an opportune time to try her out when he looked into her eyes. Seeing that he was awake she turned, narrowly missing his true form as he morphed back.

Her eyes. Just like his mother's. So full of loneliness, and yet they also held within an undying sense of hopefulness. He realized that she had saved him for herself. Backing away and sitting in his seat, he contemplated what he would do. Eventually she would find out that his heart didn't beat, that his blood didn't flow and that he couldn't rise with the sun. In fact she would learn this quite soon.

But he didn't want to kill her. She reminded him too much of his own mother whom he missed more than anything. So he decided as he curled up next to her, allowing her to place an arm around him in comfort, that they'd feed off each other, gaining happiness if only for the shortest amount of time. Perhaps he wouldn't have to kill her at all. He hoped that would be the case…

* * * * *

"Freak!"

"Monster! Monster!"

"Run away!"

Lawrence hurried down the street, no certain destination in mind. All he knew was that he had to get out of this town. People were shouting at him, screaming and running. Not that he could blame them; he would have done the same himself. He wanted to do the same now, but one of the hardest facts there are to face is that you can't run from yourself. He'd have to do something, but what was there to do?

He was a monster, metal plating and glowing red eye to boot. There was nothing he could do about it but run. What kind of life would a freak such as him be able to lead? There were no others like him out there, he knew that what happened to him was created by the government. What he'd become…

Suddenly he stopped running, his eyes searching the unknown streets around him. There was one thing, one way out. If he could simply find it, there might be a chance of escape. Lawrence ran in no certain direction, but with a destination in mind.

* * * * *

..........."Shit!"

The sudden outburst made Parker swerve slightly. After about a mile or so they'd taken their masks off and had until now been seated in complete silence. He was about to strike up a conversation himself, but was thankful he hadn't had to.

"What?"

"You do realize that I'll never have a chance at that again, right?"

He furrowed is brow in confusion, making a quick glance at her before turning his gaze back to the traffic. It was fairly light tonight, but you never know.

"What are you talkin' about?"

"I'd almost done it man, I'd almost paid back for what I'd done! At least I was on my way!"

"What the hell are you talking about?"

She sighed. "Never mind, they'll never let me back in anyhow. It doesn't matter."

Realizing the light directly ahead was turning red, he took advantage and screeched to a halt, then placed his elbow the steering wheel and watched her.

"What? Back into jail? Big fucking whoop!"

She shook her head and laughed.

"Don't do that to me! Don't you laugh at me! The least you could've done was thank me, but I didn't even hear that."

"What's your name?"

He started the car back up once the light turned to green. "Parker."

"Do you realize Parker, that within three years I might've been able to get out on parole with good behavior? Three years. Then I could've...I could've had a normal life...I could've been normal."

"NORMAL? Who the fuck wants to be normal! You're a demon hunter, or whatever. I know that you and Buffy- I mean I think I know all about you guys and the last thing I expected to hear from you is that you wanted to be normal!"

Silence.

"Well, you know what? You want a normal life, that's fine girl, we can turn this baby around and I can drop you back in Sunny-fuck-me-in-the-arse-dale right now!"

"No, look I'm not going back to jail. I don't want that. Okay, what you did for me, I appreciate it that you think that much of me, really. I'm sorr-"

"Hey look, don't apologize okay, a simple thank you would say it all-"

"But I'm not who you think I am anymore! I don't want anybody to get hurt...a-as a result of my actions, and going back would only make things worse..."

He tapped the steering wheel, considering what she'd said. "You're choice. You're life."

..........."Where're we headed?"

"The airport. I gotta a friend of a friend who's father gives charity to a monastery somewhere in India. I worked it out with them; they'll offer you protection from the law. I had been planning on waiting and taking the next flight after you, but it doesn't seem...appropriate now."

She laughed again, this time in genuine humor. He smiled; glad that he could make her do so.

"So, once you land you'll be on your own, you know get there yourself and all...but I gotta map that should be able to help you out."

She nodded. "Okay."

After another moment of silence, Faith leaned over and kissed him.

More surprisingly was the fact that he didn't wreck the car from her doing so. When she pulled back she smiled at his shocked but pleased expression.

"Thanks Parker..."

He grinned. "Apology accepted."

She sat back in her seat. "Got any money you can spare?"

Without taking his eyes off the road he nodded and withdrew his wallet from inside his pants pocket and flipped it at her. "Thought you'd ask. Take the credit cards, they should be good for another year or so."

Not one to discourage such a generous offer, Faith cleaned out his black leather-skin and slid over to put it back in his pants for him.

"How long till we reach the plane?"

"Bout another ten, fifteen minutes."

"...........Heard any good jokes lately?"

* * * * *

"NO! Angel, we can still do this, it is in you!"

"Cordy, I'm weak. Worse, I'm human. There is absolutely nothing I can possibly do. We can't go back to the savior business. Besides, have you been getting anymore visions?"

"…No, I haven't."

"Right. I think we both know why. Our job is done. They're through with us."

"Well, Dammit, I'm not through with them! I gave up the greatest opportunity-"

"Cordelia, please stop talking about that. You're giving me a headache."

"…Where are you Angel?"

"I'm not sure. I'm just walking right now."

"…She doesn't deserve you-"

"Please, it's the other wa-"

"No, no Angel it isn't! Anybody that would give you up, even for a second, doesn't deserve to have you."

"It's my own fault."

Cordelia broke into tears, frantically trying to get him to understand what she was saying. "Listen to yourself, this isn't you! Just look for a sign around you. A landmark, anything. I can come pick you up. We can leave toge-"

"Cordy, I have to go."

"Angel you bastard, I love y-"

/Click/ Against the dead line, crying can be heard.

* * * * *

Ethan had been drinking. A lot. Three empty beer bottles rolled around on the floor below him.

All right, so Giles didn't want him. That was fine, he'd fly back to England without a chip on his shoulder. Perhaps he'd kill someone. Yes, he'd like that. He'd go to one of the local pubs, pick up a hooker and fuck her brainless before slitting her throat. Or even better, beating her to death. But even at these thoughts, he couldn't bring himself to smile.

*

Riley had summed it up to luck, pure and simple. Luck was a commodity. Something that stay's until it is used up, then is gone until more can be attained. Riley had used up all of his luck, and things could only go downhill from here. He'd have to ride it out or take it in trade.

Rain fell hard on his patrol car. He'd left the Jerries off but had his red and blue's streaming. He'd parked his car next to a Dunkin' Donuts and had finished off an entire box, but he was still a bit hungry. The donut shop was closed now. Maybe he'd go find a bar somewhere. No, he had to go home. Be the responsible cop. Be the safe man.

The funny thing with bad luck is that you never know when it will strike or how bad it's gonna be. All you do know is that it's there, waiting to bite your ass hard. He rummaged around under a few papers in his glove compartment and found his gun, which he quickly and carefully set on safety. He wondered how long he'd have to do this for.

The car slammed into his own with a force that plowed him into the steering wheel, making him scream as he heard and felt one of his ribs crack. A loud explosion erupted and he saw a piece of flaming bumper fly over his windshield. Prying himself off of the steering wheel he noted that he'd have to ask the Chief for more airbags in the cars.

He got his gun and turned off the safety, cringing in the searing pain inside his chest. Luck be damned, he was going to kill someone tonight. Opening the car door he stepped out to see the occupant of the other car doing the same. His own car wasn't in that bad of condition (the trunk was pushed in a bit, but it looked otherwise fine) but the hitter's car was totaled. He crossed his chest with his right arm, aiming the gun with his left as he stumbled towards the other man, obviously drunk and trying to crawl of his window. A flash of lightning revealed him to Riley.

"YOU!" Riley pulled Rayne of the car by his hair and threw him to the dark, wet pavement below. Still having a hand grappled to the back of his head, the Englishman screamed as Riley mercilessly slammed his face into the dried tar repeatedly. Once Riley was satisfied the amount of blood gushing from the man's mouth and nose he pulled him to his feet and began dragging him towards the back of his car.

"Gfuh-gyafucker! Ybroke-ma-fackin-nose! SHIT!"

Riley laughed; unlocking the trunk and cringing in pain as he pushed Rayne towards it, letting him go. The man held one hand to his nose and brought a Colt Python up with his other, aiming it at Riley. Riley did the same with his own standard issue Smith & Wesson.

"Get in the trunk mother-fucker!"

"Fak' you!"

Riley fired his gun, easily blowing Rayne's out of his hand.

The Brit put his hands up in the air, wincing at the water splashing down to his badly broken nose. He spit out a large wad of blood and two broken teeth from his mouth, hitting pointblank on Riley's soaked blue inform. Riley fired another round at his leg, shattering bone. Rayne cried out in pain, falling down. Riley blinked, thinking that he had just gasped without moving his lips.

The cop stooped, pressing the gun to his head. "Don't think I won't do it! Get in the fucking trunk!"

He wouldn't, choosing instead to stare up at him, holding his leg and crying out as another loud bolt of thunder struck. Riley nodded, cocking the gun. "NOW!"

He hopped in, at which point Riley closed and locked it, breathing heavily and wondering if he'd burn in hell for what he'd just done.

*

Olivia cried heavily, sobbing into her wet handkerchief. She didn't know what she was going to do. Giles, carrying on a tryst with Buffy behind her back? For how long? It didn't matter. He might as well be dead now for all she cared.

Walking down the sidewalk, her approach masked by the roar of the rain; she came upon a cop car streaming brilliantly in the night. A policeman was hunkered over another other man. She gasped as she realized what was going on. That poor man! Was she going to help him? How could she?

It took her until the cop had put the keys back in his pocket to get enough courage to jump on his back, putting her arms around his neck. Surprised, the man dipped forward, easily tossing her off of him. She hit the wet pavement with a 'thwap' and looked up at him. He was staring back looking befuddled at her. Before he could do anything to her she reached a fist up and punched him in the chest. She was shocked when he gargled up blood and fell back, writhing on the ground. After a moment though he fell silent, arms sinking into the rising water of the street.

Pausing, she carefully and slowly reached a hand for the keys in his pocket. Sliding them in she could have sworn he shuddered, and she finally got a good look at his face. Hadn't she seen the man before? Her fingers met steel and any thoughts of recognition vanished as she pulled them out. A ring of them. Damn!

Splashing back to the car she knocked on the hood then put her ear to it. Muffled speech came from within. "J-JUST HANG ON," she yelled back, "I'VE GOT HIS KEYS!" …nothing… "KNOCK ONCE IF YOU UNDERSTAND!" A single knock could be heard. She smiled in relief. The first key didn't fit.

Neither did the second, but the third raised her spirits when it slid in.

*

Ethan had found a cloth in the trunk and was trying his best to clean himself up. That bastard cop hadn't done to much to his mouth (he'd broken out two teeth near the front and had severely cut the lip, but it wasn't anything that couldn't be fixed) but he was having trouble breathing. His nose hurt like a cherry bomb had exploded within it, and was bleeding like that as well. When the woman started calling out to him he had been extremely relieved and had pressed his ear to the trunk lid just to catch what she was saying. He knocked once when she'd asked and knew she'd heard when she started fitting keys into the lock.

He'd expected that getting shot in the leg would've hurt a lot more than it did, but once he'd done as best he could with his nose and mouth he'd wrapped the cloth around the entry wound and was now more focused on the pain in his nose. He grinned as a solid 'thump' was heard on the other side. If she hadn't already killed him, he was going to cut the fucking cop's balls off and making him eat them. No one got the better of Ethan Rayne twice in one day.

The trunk opened and he smiled up at the figure. "Dank de devil-" He gasped as lightning struck, revealing a blue uniform covered in blood. There was a body in it's hands which promptly landed next to him as he threw it in and slammed the trunk again. Ethan screamed.
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Okay, that's all for now. Hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it! The next part is of course the climax which will be much shorter, I promise. Also it will be out sooner as this took me a good while to complete because of its length. Please Review, I need to know how badly I suck! Note: This section of the story was finished a week after I released the original, but certain circumstances have prevented me from releasing this section until now. Thanks to all those who waited so patiently!

Lyle Brown