Again, thanks so much for the feedback. A special thank you goes to Deb for the "sore"-thing. She knows what I mean. Thank, honey. Another special hug to Alee. Your fics are treasured. Hope we'll get more of them, soon. And the final nudge goes to Gem. Where's the next part of your epiphanies? Can't wait to read it.

And of course big hugs to all the great friends and readers at BA-Fluff, Ducks babbleboard, and ffnet for their constant support. You guys really keep me going.

//… // means flashback

Love's Gift – Part 14

By Jill

Willow was on her feet the moment Giles came back from upstairs. "How is she?"

"As it was to be expected," was his evading answer. He was still feeling deeply unsettled by the things he'd been forced to say to Buffy. He wished with all his heart he could have done or said anything to help her, but there was absolutely nothing. This helplessness was it that made him want to lash out, to scream and rage, but when he saw the concerned faces of the people assembled in his living-room, it was only a bone-deep weariness he was able to feel.

They hadn't done anything to cause the situation, they had all helped as best as they could, and by Willow's red-rimmed eyes and the way Xander tried to avoid his gaze he knew they felt as deeply as he, and maybe on some level they knew already what he and Buffy had been talking about. "Angel is still out," he explained. "And Buffy …," he sighed, "she's trying to deal with the situation. It's hard for her. Incredibly so."

Willow bit her lower lip, fidgeted with her hands, her eyes and voice terribly uncertain, "Do you … I mean … could I help her. Talk to her maybe or … or just listen?"

He managed to smile at her, knowing that she only wanted to help, but also knowing that there was nothing she could do right now. More than anything Buffy needed time for herself, time to think and to decide. "I know you mean well," he said gently, "but at the moment … I don't think it would be a good idea to intrude."

"Oh," she nodded, sat down, instantly comforted by Oz's arm coming around her shoulders. "It's just," she shrugged helplessly, "This makes me so mad, and … I feel bad about it. I mean … this is a terrible thing a-and … Why do I feel mad? I'm a bad girl, I know. A bad, bad person."

Like a volcano erupting, Xander jumped up from his chair, his hands clenched into fists, he stared at his long-time friend incredulously, "Can you – just for a moment – stop thinking about yourself?," he shouted, then as if not able to look at her any longer, he abruptly turned away. "This isn't about how you feel. This is about Buffy."

In the same abrupt way he had turned away, his head came up, and his eyes nailed Giles, "What's going to happen if it is Angelus who's waking up? Are we going to re-curse him?," he asked. "Let me take a guess. We won't." He heard Willow gasp, ignored it. He ran a hand through his hair, went to the window facing the courtyard. There were stars upon the sky, the moon – only half-full – was bright and friendly. Xander saw none of it. "Man, this really sucks. Is she going to do it, or what?"

Giles looked at the back of the boy he'd misjudged for so long, then replied quietly, "I offered to … But she said it was what she had to do."

"Oh no," Willow's eyes flew from Giles' face to Xander and back. "Oh no," she repeated, throwing her arms around Oz, sobbing into his shoulder.

"She hasn't yet decided what to do," the watcher walked to the table, took his tea mug, not caring that the contents were long cold. "She needs time." He sipped, "And we can still hope it won't be him."

"Yeah, sure." Xander's voice was full of sarcasm. "And maybe tomorrow Spike will join a convent. What do you think has happened in that factory? There was this evil guy, chanting from this huge, old book, in a language none of us understood. And in  the end he said 'It's done.' And to top it, Jenny tells us it's been her cousin, a Romani. Come again. How can it be anything but the demon who's going to wake up sooner or later? The guy was evil, what do you think he'd do?"

"That's," came Jenny's voice from the doorway, a frown on her forehead, her eyes thoughtful, even holding a little bit of hope, "really a good question, Xander," she said, joining the others at the table. "I just talked to my grandmother, and although she was very angry, and not at all pleased to hear from me again, I could at least understand that Dario wasn't evil."

"He wasn't evil?," Giles' brows shot up. "What do you mean, he wasn't evil?"

"It seems," she shook her head, still too surprised to really understand the deeper meaning of all this, "he had a soul."

*****

"Lucius, can't you drive faster, you bloody idiot?"

"I'm driving as fast as I can, boss. I'm all but flooring the damn thing," the vampire in question replied, looking at Spike through the rear mirror. "This car isn't exactly built for formula 1."

"The car is the fastest you can get," the blond vampire growled. "I was there when it was tuned. Ate the bloke afterwards. Was the weirdest taste," he added, lost in memories for a moment. "Ever tasted blood with motor oil flavour?"

"Can't say I have."

"No, of course not." Spike shook his head, sighed. "It would mean you actually left Sunnydale and had a life. Stupid question. Well, drive as fast as you can. Hell, if I could move my damned legs, I'd show you."

Lucius nodded, and stifled a smirk. Even handicapped Spike was still a dangerous demon, certainly nobody he wanted to have for an enemy. And there was that girl of his. She might be insane, but he'd seen with his own eyes what she capable of doing. He didn't want to cross her either.

The blond vampire glanced at the sleeping woman whose head was resting in his lap. She was incredibly beautiful, her pale, porcelain skin almost translucent. His princess, his eternal love. They were meant to be together for all times, bound by love and passion. He sighed inwardly, turning his head to the tinted windows, tempted to remove the black paint so he could actually see the landscape.  Drusilla was his, and tonight he had made damned sure Angel would never cross their path again. He could very well do without his bloody sire. Dru was so hung up on him, she all but forgot Spike whenever the Poof was near.

Spike would probably hear his name in his nightmares until eternity, but at least he wouldn't have to fight him for Dru's affections, wouldn't have to wonder if his black princess was crying out in passion because Angelus was using her for his own pleasure. Those last weeks has been enough to irritate a saint, and he was definitely not a saint, far from it. He didn't intend to go through it again at any time soon, or ever.

For a moment he wondered what had happened to Dario, but then dismissed the thought. What did he care? It was enough to know he'd done what Spike wanted him to do, and the blond vampire had heard the words loud enough. It was done. Spike glanced at Dru again. She was his. Angelus would never bother them again. It was all that mattered.

*****

Buffy thought she was going to faint, when she finally turned away from the empty doorway and her eyes fell on Angel. She felt her breath catch, felt her heart beat increase, her stomach clench painfully.

"Buffy."

It was only a whisper, but it was his voice.

Ohgodohgodohgodohgodohgodohgodohgod.

His voice. How was she going to do this? He was talking to her.  How was she supposed to run a stake through his heart while hearing his voice at the same time. And his eyes…

His eyes?

His eyes?

She had expected to look into the evil, empty eyes of the demon, instead she saw confusion the moment Angel realised he was bound to the bed, and love.

Love?

Love!

Not caring for anything or anybody, never hearing the muffled cry coming from her lips, she launched herself at him, framing his head with her hands, peppering kisses all over his face, her tears wetting his skin. She didn't care. Whispering his name again and again between kisses, she felt a sob coming up, and didn't care either.

Angel was awake, and without a single doubt, she knew it was Angel. Not Angelus. Not the soulless demon. Angel. Her Angel. The man she loved. The man who loved her.

The man who was still chained to Giles' bed.

She stopped in mid-kiss, a sheepish smile creeping up her face, her eyes making contact with his undoubtedly ensouled ones, that were watching her intently, "Uhm … sorry for that," she nodded at the chains. "It was just for safety reasons." She laughed to through the tears, feeling as if she could fly, "We didn't exactly know what happened to you." Quickly she removed the chains, while Angel continued to watch her in silence.

"How do you feel?," she asked, concern creeping into her voice, as soon as she was finished unbinding him.

He moved his shoulders, still trying to shake off the confusion he felt ever since Buffy'd launched herself on him, and trying to ignore his sudden erection caused by a tiny blond was sitting astride his pelvis. "A little stiff," he mumbled, for the first time really looking at her. Her clothes were rumpled, torn at several places, she had an already closed cut on her right cheek, there were dirty smudges covering her face, her eyes were red-rimmed and swollen from crying, her hair was bound back in a messy ponytail, but to him she was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

Slowly, not sure she wanted him to touch her, he reached out, covered her cheek with his palm, trailed his thumb gently over the cut. "You look tired."

She laughed slightly, more tears spilling over, "Yeah, well, the last hours were a bit hard on my nerves, not to forget the fact that I haven't really slept last night."

His eyes darkened instantly, and guilt welled up, "I'm sorry," he said remorsefully, starting to pull his hand away. Instantly Buffy covered it, held it in place for a moment, then turned her head slightly, to kiss the palm.

"No," her voice was soft, a little raw, "It's okay. We both said things … I was a real bitch."

"I shouldn't have said anything," he argued quickly, "It was just a thought I had, never really thought through. I am sorry, Buffy."

"I know. Me too." She managed another smile, then suddenly without warning her face crumpled, "Oh God, Angel, I thought I'd lost you," she cried, sinking back on his chest, tears spilling on his shirt, on the spot where hundreds of years ago, his heart had been beating."

"Shhh," he said, stroking her back, holding her, "It's okay. I won't leave you. I'm not going to leave Sunnydale. I had a lot of time to think during … Anyways. The result is, I realised I was a fool for even considering it. I'm going to stay as long as you want me."

"Forever," she said fiercely, kissing his chin, then as if suddenly realising their current position, she shifted and came to lie on his side, one hand still placed on his chest. "But that's not what I meant. I … uh …," she averted her eyes from his inquiring gaze, "We thought you had lost your soul – again."

He was quiet for a long moment, his body utterly still. Finally he tightened the arm lying around her waist, pulled her close, "Oh, Buffy," he whispered. "I'm sorry. I wish I could've … but the spell made me so tired, I was out of it as soon as it was finished."

"Yeah, I noticed," she replied, lifting her face again, when the words sank in, "What do you mean you wish you could've? Could've, what?"

"Told you that the spell wasn't going to take my soul away," he answered. "It was never meant to do that."

"What?," she stared at him as if she hadn't understood, but from the look in her eyes he knew she had. "But … but … the guy was a vampire. I knew he was. He became dust right in front of us."

His eyes darkened, "You killed him?" There was a strain in his voice, she didn't understand.

"No. He … he just became dust. He said something … Willow thinks it was spell, and then he was dust. Hey, maybe he isn't dead, maybe he just … vanished?," she tried to lighten his mood, not exactly knowing why. The guy was an evil vampire, for Goodness sake.

"No," he shook his head sadly, "I think it's a safe bet he died."

"Why does it bother you? He was just another vampire. Okay, so he knew about spells and … Wait, he never intended to take your soul away?"

"No," Angel confirmed, his face grave. "As strange as it sounds, but Spike knew about it from the start."

// Angel opened his eyes when he heard the wheels of Spike's chair rolling towards him, making that familiar squeaking noise on the floor. He saw the blond vampire watching him, his eyes slightly narrowed. As long as Angel would live, Spike would remain a mystery to him. He was usually good in figuring out the people or non-people he dealt with, but the blond had always been different, starting with  the way he obviously cared for Dru. Ending with the stranger staying with them at the moment. His presence just didn't add up.

"Want to take a good look?," Angel asked, studying Spike's face, still showing traces of the burns he'd suffered at the church months ago.

"Nah," the blond rolled closer, never taking his eyes from the other vampire. "How does it feel, Angel?" He rolled the name on his tongue in a way that was meant to be an insult. And for Spike it probably was. For a vampire the idea of a soul was something thoroughly disgusting, it had been for Darla, hundred years ago. And he himself had felt it, the moment his soul was gone. "Angel. What a name. I wonder if it burns you each time you say it."

"I am really not up for this," the dark-haired vampire replied, then driven by a sudden urge, he asked, "What's going on, Spike?"

"Going on?," the blond asked, feigning innocence. "You are chained to the wall. And it makes me feel bloody great to see it. To see all this cocky arrogance on the ground for a change."

"So you're gonna torture me or what? Well, been there, done that. But that's not what I meant."

Spike cocked his head, his eyes turning to slits, before a grin appeared on his lips, "You mean because the guy's got a soul?"

Angel's eyes narrowed as well, but after a moment of hesitation, he said, "Yeah."

"Thought you'd notice that," the other vampire's grin widened. "Only Dru's too," he made a circular motion with his forefinger next to his temple, "you know. But I can't have her interfering this time. Funny what a few pills can do. Sent her to la-la-land in a flash."

"So," Angel straightened slightly against the wall, "What is going to happen?"

"A little spell casting. The guy's actually a wizard. A real pro. Was made a vampire, then his clan gave him a soul," he rolled his eyes, his face showing disgust, "Not that it matters. But for this he was the perfect choice."

"And he's going to do what?"

"Anchor your soul of course. I really can't stand you, but the soulless version is downright annoying. Don't care to meet him again." He snorted, reached into his pocket for a cigarette. Lighting it, he took a deep draw.

Angel didn't even try to understand what was going on, but for the moment he didn't care. "He is a Romani." It wasn't a question.

"Yeah," Spike nodded. "Well, hope to never see you again, and all."

He was about to turn away, when Angel's voice stopped him. "Why not just kill me?," the dark-haired vampire asked, his eyes questioning.

Spike shrugged, then laughed slightly, blew out another cloud of smoke, "Beats me. The hell if I knew. Maybe I'm a sentimental idiot. But I learned a lot from you, Angelus. And though I hated you …," he shrugged again. "I think even eternity would be too short until we met again, but somehow to know you were gone …," he shrugged a third time and with awe Angel realised Spike was actually embarrassed. He really would die first before figuring out the guy. "So, I guess that makes me a sentimental fool, huh?"

Angel couldn't help the incredulous laugh coming from his lips, "Yeah, sure."

Spike turned away, "Whatever," he said over his shoulder. "But whatever the reason, I'm sure you heard the saying about the gift horse's mouth." With that he was gone.//

"So it was all just to keep Dru from interfering?," Buffy asked incredulously, her chin resting on Angel's chest.

"Yeah," he confirmed, still feeling slightly unreal, his fingers stroking over her back in slow circular motions. "Dario, that was the guy's name, had been told what to say in front of her, and as he was eager to anchor my soul," he shrugged, "It seems he's been trying to find a spell to help me," he shook his head, "I know it sounds strange, but it's the truth. When his tribe found out about it, they kicked him out. He was made a vampire that night, and to keep him from harming people, they cursed him with a soul. They used the same curse they used on me."

"So when Spike contacted him, he jumped on it? How did Spike know about him anyway?"

"He didn't," Angel told her. "I only spoke shortly to Dario, but he contacted Spike."

"I still cannot believe that Spike did this," she shook her head, a frown appearing on her forehead, "Why exactly did he want to get rid of your evil self? I mean you might be annoying and all, but I cannot believe that's all."

Angel coughed slightly, images of Dru flickering through his head, he was suddenly feeling uncomfortable. Sure, he'd been a soulless demon then, but he had a feeling Buffy wouldn't take it too well to hear what he had done during those weeks, besides killing people or trying to bring the world to an end. "There … uh … are several things. We never got along very well. To tell you the truth, I couldn't believe he wasn't just killing me."

That brought a smile on her face, "Well, I for one, won't look in the horse's mouth," the smiled widened into a grin, a very wicked one, "Wasn't there something about your soul being anchored and all?"

"Buffy," he hissed, feeling her hands travelling lower on his chest, "We don't have privacy here. We can't."

She looked up, her lower lips stuck out in an adorable pout, "Why?"

"Because …," he inhaled sharply, feeling her fingers like hot little pokers burning his skin. She'd pushed up his shirt and was now stroking his bare belly. "Buffy," he managed through gritted teeth.

"Spoilsport," she muttered, not removing her hands.

He was about to take her shoulders to remove her forcefully from his body, not really caring for anyone to run in on them, when a shocked outcry came from the door. They jumped away from each other, while Willow who'd come to look after Buffy, was turning beet-red, not quite sure what to do with her eyes. They were darting around wildly, and Angel saw her swallow several times, embarrassment radiating from her in waves.

"Hi Willow," he said softly.

… to be continued

Okay, happy now? I'd like to know what you think, sooo … reviews or feedback would be treasured. Or send an e-mail to Connemara.Scarlets@t-online.de  Only some more parts to go.