~*One*~

"I will remember you,

Will you remember me?

Don't let your life pass you by,

Weep not for the memories."

-- Sarah McLachlan

She was tired, wet and cold. And to top it off, she was royally pissed off. This was not the night be messing with the Slayer.

Buffy walked down the quiet streets of Sunnydale, her eyes held a glaze of annoyance as she glared at the persistent rain. She sighed, looking at the flashes of blinking lights and decorations that adorned the lawns and houses of every resident. With Christmas just around the corner, everyone in town was getting into a festive mood. Her friends had already gone to hang out at the Bronze, while she had decided to make one more round before wrapping up patrol. Of course, the Powers That Be chose that precise moment to start a thunderous downpour, just to spite her.

Behind her, she could hear the approaching steps of some poor vampire who obviously picked the wrong night to do evil.

"You know…" She said to the creature without even turning around, "If you're trying to sneak up on me, you're really doing a horrible job." With that, she turned around, dealing a hard kick to the unsuspecting vampire.

The creature growled at her, displaying pearly white fangs.

"Aww…" She pretended to pout, "I'm sorry, did that hurt?" She dropped swiftly to the ground, sweeping her leg around and watched as the vampire tripped and fell with a grand "oomph" to the ground.

She was on top of him in a second, stake in hand. Almost reflexively, she drove the wooden weapon deep into the vampire and watched as it turned into dust. She sighed heavily, rising form the ground.

"Well… that was amusing." She said to no one in particular. She shoved her stake deep into her pockets, making a face of disgust as the rain began to come on even stronger.

*          *            *

"Angel!" Wesley watched the man as he paced around the room, "Would you stop that? It's beginning to make me quite dizzy."

The vampire sighed, stopping in mid-step. "Sorry, Wes. I'm just feeling a little restless tonight."

"Yes." The ex-Watcher paused, "So I see."

"All right…" Cordelia walked into the room. She held one hand to her head, and she was glaring rather angrily at the wall. "Did I ever tell you that I hate visions?"

Wesley looked up, slight alarmed. "You had a vision?"

"Yah!" Cordelia rolled her eyes, "Ya think?"

Angel looked at the young woman intently, settling himself on the couch. He motioned for her to do the same, "What was it about?"

She complied and took a seat. She furrowed her eyebrows, "It was blurry and fast. There was a big ugly thing. Maybe a vamp… or just some disgusting demon. I don't know."

"What was it doing?" Wesley asked, intrigued by her description.

"I couldn't really tell what it was up to. But it had a nasty set of teeth… or fangs… or whatever you wanna call them. And there was this huge fountain behind it. And get this, it was snowing!"

"Well then, it definitely couldn't have taken place here. I wonder what all this means." Wesley folded his hands under his chin. "It sounds rather serious though. We should probably get on it right away."

"Describe the fountain." Angel looked at Cordelia, "It might give us a clue as to where this thing is."

"It was…really big. And it had like three layers. And there were a lot of Christmas lights strung on it. Behind it was a big lake or ocean or something… lots of water. And in the distance, I could see a huge Ferris Wheel. It felt like a big city, you know, skyline and everything."

"Buckingham Fountain!" Wesley exclaimed, snapping his fingers.

"You mean, like, in England?" Cordelia raised an eyebrow.

"No, no." He shook his head, "Buckingham Fountain in Chicago." He got up and walked over to the computer. "It's right next to Lake Michigan, which accounts for the large body of water." He began to type quickly. "Ah hah!" He turned the monitor screen towards his two companions, "Does this look familiar to you?"

Cordelia squinted at the screen. She got up and walked towards Wesley, her hands on her hips. "Yeah…" She finally decided, "That looks about right."

"Then Chicago it is." Angel said, getting up from the couch, "I'll start packing."

"We don't even know what this demon is… don't you think you're jumping in a little too quickly?" Wesley asked, already reaching for his books.

"I'm hoping you'll figure that part out for me." Angel said without turning around, "This must be something important. Otherwise, Cordy wouldn't have gotten the vision. I think the best thing to do is to get down there as soon as possible before something happens."

"He's right." Cordelia agreed, "This definitely didn't seem like your average, scare-you-out-of-your-mind vision. Definitely worse."

"All right." Wesley sighed, "The rest of us better stay in Los Angeles, lest something happens while you are away. But we'll keep in contact."

"Sounds like a plan." Angel responded, already halfway out the door.

Cordelia watched as the vampire walked out of the room. Her expression was worried as she turned back to face Wesley. "I wonder if I should have told him…"

"Told him what?" The man asked, not bothering to look up from his constant research.

"Buffy was in my vision too…"

*          *            *

            "Chicago?! You want me to go to Chicago, in the middle of winter?" Buffy looked wide-eyed at Giles, "Whose brilliant plan was this?"

            Giles sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose as he removed his glasses. "I've been hearing rumors that have leaked from the Watchers Council. It seems that something has sprung up in Chicago. It's unconfirmed, of course." He took this moment to slip his glasses back onto his nose, "But something tells me this is big. It'd be prudent of us to investigate."

            "Can't you get someone else to do it? I mean… I'm not the only one who can stick a piece a wood in some undead thing." Buffy pouted, plopping herself down into the nearest chair, "Why do I have to go? Do you know how much snow they get around this time?"

            Giles shook his head, "Yes, Buffy, I'm quite aware of this. But I believe this is a very serious threat. I wouldn't ask you to go if I didn't think there was some danger. Of course, I'll have to follow up with more research. But from what I've heard, there's a gang of vampires who have congregated there. They call themselves the Journeyers, and they've been around for quite a while." He flipped open his book, showing a diagram to Buffy, "They're one of the oldest and most powerful clans of vampires to ever exist around the 17th century. Sometime around the Industrial Revolution in England, they were disbanded and driven apart. It's rumored that they've been plotting to come back together for a long time."

            "Gee… let me guess…" Buffy cut him off, "And when they do manage to come back together, they'll unleash Hell and possibly destroy the world in the process."

            "Well…" He sounded rather baffled, "Yes. Something along those lines."

            "And of course, I'm the one who gets to go in and save the world again. Whoop ti doo." She sighed, pouting.

            "I'm sorry Buffy, but you know that it is your responsibility as the Slayer to do this. You are the Chosen One." Giles said, looking at her over the rims of his glasses.

            "Yep." She nodded, "I got it. Big, bad vampire gang, might destroy the world, unleash Hell, did I miss anything?"

            "Well, I'm sure more specifics will turn up in time." Giles added, "But for now, that's all we know. This is rather urgent and it would be wise if you were to leave as soon as possible."

            "What about the old Hellmouth, who's gonna take over while I'm gone?" Buffy asked, already getting up from her seat.

            "We'll be able to figure something out amongst ourselves." Giles reassured her, "Meanwhile, keep your phone with you at all time. We'll contact you when we find out more about what's going on."

            She nodded, "All right." She turned and rubbed her hands together, "Watch out Chicago, here I come."

*          *            *

            Angel shifted restlessly, his eyes staring blankly ahead of him. He wasn't paying attention to the in-flight movie, though he made the pretense of putting on his headphones. The rest of the passengers on the flight were fast asleep. After all, this was the midnight flight. But Angel was fully awake. His fingers were fidgeting rhythmically with the pencil in his hand. His thoughts wandered, as they always did, to her. He couldn't get her out of his mind. Not since the first day he had met her. That was what infuriated him the most. How long had it been? He sighed, laying his head back on his seat. Two and a half years. It had been two and a half years since he left Sunnydale and created that rift between him and the only woman he'd ever loved. It had been for her own good… or so he had thought. He had only wanted her to have a regular life. A life that any other teenage girl would want. But that was not his Buffy. No. She didn't want a normal life. Because she wasn't a normal teenager. He should have seen it then, before it was too late. He should have known that she would never be able to be just a regular girl. She was the Slayer. The Chosen One. She was the only one in all 246 years of his life to have ever touched him to the core… and he had let her go.

            The pencil cracked into two pieces as he squeezed it mercilessly. He closed his eyes, swallowing the sob that swelled in his throat. It didn't matter anymore. Nothing mattered anymore. She was dead. She had sacrificed herself, given herself up, to save the world. Willow had told him about how she fought, about how she was brave. She was always so rash and reckless. Jumping into things without thinking about them. That's what made her so good. That's what made her the Slayer.

            What did anything matter anymore? Shanshu? What was the point of that? Why would he want to be human if she were dead? The only reason he had ever wanted to live again, was so that he could be with her again. He wanted to touch her, kiss her, know her, and hold her until the sun came up. And then… and then, he could actually take her outside. Take a walk in the park, have a picnic under the sun. He closed his eyes, dreaming back to that one day… that one brief day, when he could feel the heat beating down on his face. That day had been paradise. That day was the only thing he had left to cling onto.

            She was gone. And with her, she took the only happiness and hope he had left in his life. He was immortal. The more he thought about it, the more he despised it. He would never die, he would never grow old, he would never be… normal. He was a vampire. She had been the Slayer. Even the thought of it made him realize how impossible their relationship had been. She was born to despise his kind. He was made to fight her. And yet, somewhere in between, the Powers That Be got it all mixed up.

            He sighed, letting himself slump down in his seat. He could here the flight attendant's clear voice as she spoke to the passengers.

            "Thank you for flying with us today. As we make our final decent into Chicago O'Hare Airport, please make sure your seatbelt is safely fastened and your tray table is in its upright and locked position. The local time is now 3:46 AM. We thank you again for traveling with us, and we hope you have a safe and fun stay in the Windy City."

            He closed his eyes, forcing himself to stop thinking about Buffy. This was not the time. He had his responsibilities. He had lives to save. If anything, she had taught him how to be a man. She had given him the reason to suppress his demon instincts. And that was why he was here. That was why he defended the helpless. He was making amends for all the evil he'd done. And this was just another test, to prove that he was worthy of being a man again someday.

*          *            *

            It was cold. I mean, sure she'd experienced being cold before. When she was five, she had had the brilliant idea of trying to hide in the refrigerator during a game of hide and seek. But nothing compared to this.

            Buffy wound her scarf more tightly around her neck as she retreated into the warmth of her down coat. She had lived in California all her life, and her wardrobe didn't exactly account for below freezing temperatures. She silently vowed to herself that she'd let herself loose on a shopping spree the moment she settled into her hotel room. Sure, she was the Slayer, but nowhere had it ever said in her heavenly contract that she'd have to trudge through five feet of snow. Giles had warned her. He'd even provided her with a few coats and hats while he rambled on about how cold it could get in the Midwest. For an old librarian and retired Watcher, the man sure had his ways. He managed to get her a rather suitable hotel in downtown Chicago. It wasn't the Ritz, but it wasn't bad either. Just convenient enough so that she could easily access the more "colorful" alleys in the city, but also small enough so that no one would care if she came and went during odd hours of the night. It was a small place called the Crown. Something told Buffy that Giles still had more connections with the Watchers' Council then he would have liked to admit. This was no ordinary hotel. From the research Willow had done for her, this hotel had housed more than a few passing Slayers in the past.

            That's what sort of scared her. What could have gotten the Council so riled up that they would have gone against every snobbish, presumptuous nerve in their bodies to have called upon her? Surely there were others who lived closer to Chicago and whom didn't despise them that they could have summoned to help. But she knew why they must have called her. Because she was the One. Not just the Chosen One. She was the One. She liked to think of herself as the Cursed One. The one that was destined to get down and dirty. When the world needed saving, they always came running to her. They wouldn't let her be. They wouldn't leave her alone. They wouldn't even let her die an honorable, albeit unnatural, death. No. Death was foreign to her. She could not die. Because even when she did, she was always called back.

            She groaned inwardly as she tugged her luggage behind her up the steps of the hotel. She was thankful to get inside the warm lobby, and she was suddenly aware that she could finally feel her toes again. She sighed, digging out the paperwork Giles had provided for her.

            "Hello, miss." The clerk greeted her, "How may I help you?"

            "I have a reservation." She replied, clunking the papers down on the counter.

            "What's your name?" He asked, glancing at her before looking back at his computer screen.

            "Anne. Anne Summers." She replied, producing the all-too-convenient fake ID Giles had all doctored up for her.

            The clerk didn't even give it a passing look. He just nodded and produced a set of key cards, "Welcome to Chicago, Miss Summers." He said, "Your room number is 1253. I hope you enjoy your stay here with us."

            She offered a grateful smile, taking her key cards with one hand while re-pocketing her ID with her other. "I hope so too." She replied, already heading towards the elevators.

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