Chapter 3 - The Harvest
The night of the Harvest the Master sat quietly on his throne, pretending to be engrossed in an ancient Mellville, actually looking down his nose at the hundreds of minions scattered around him, intent on his words (or lack their of), almost quivering in excitement. He waited a long while, to let the juices simmer, then looked dramatically at the wall clock.
Time....
"Bring forth the vessel."
At his side, Luke started. "But Master, I was chosen to be -"
"Silence," the Master said patiently. "A change of plans. In honor of my Angel choosing sides against us."
The Master could sense how furious Luke was at the perceived betrayal, but like a good childe, he kept his tongue silent. Until he saw who had been chosen in his place.
Darla strutted forward from the shadows, gracing Luke with a contemptuous smile.
"Her!?" Luke roared, "She is the vessel!? I have been your loyal servant for these hundreds of years and you would choose her over me?"
He moved toward her menacingly, and Darla crouched in a defensive posture.
"You would rush into your own demise over so unimportant a matter as this one, Luke?" the Master spoke icily. "You do not choose your battles wisely, childe."
Luke either didn't hear his master's voice, or chose to ignore him - it didn't matter which. Darla glanced sideways at the Master, saw him nod almost imperceptibly.
She drew a stake out of her coat. Luke grunted in surprise, but his challenge was on the table - he had no choice but to attack. He was strong, had lived and fought at his master's side for two centuries, but Darla had the sire's support, and double Luke's years. He led a vicious charge, but he was simply too bulky to move quickly, and she dispatched him with a flick of her wrist. The Master felt a moment's twinge of regret at his loss, but the sadness was quickly lost in the glory of the night.
Darla went down on one knee in front of her Master. He reached out to her with his left hand - delicately she took it and sank her fangs in, drained a bit of the cold blood, enough to ensure that the blood would flow for the ritual.
"My blood to your blood."
He brought his wrist back, dipped his fingers in like an artist with his pallete, and painted the mark of the triple point on the pale flesh of her forehead. She shivered beneath his touch.
"My soul is your soul."
She opened her eyes - they shone with anticipation.
"My body is your instrument," she intoned breathlessly.
He smiled benevolently down at her. "On this...most hallowed night...we are as one," he stood up tall, looking down on the minions. "Darla is the vessel. Protect her as you would me, with your lives," as if to make a point, he looked down at the pile of ashes that had been Luke.
"Every soul she takes will feed me. And their souls will grant me the strength to free myself. Tonight I shall walk the Earth," he paused, if for nothing else then effect, "and the stars themselves will hide!"
He looked down at Darla, still at one knee at his feet. "Rise, childe."
She stood up.
"Suggestions for the Harvest?"
She grinned ferally. "I know just the place."
Darla and the little knot of vampires strode confidently toward the Bronze. Along the way they drew strange looks from the few who dared to be out at night - but per her order they all wore their human visages.
"Mingle," she told the rest of them as they approached the club. "Dance. Make with the merry. We wait until we've got them surrounded before we make a move."
Inwardly she congratulated herself. The subtle approach would never have occurred to Luke. That was why she was alive and he was gone. And not yet a word from her soul-ridden childe. Perhaps his threats had been a bluff after all.
The doorman, an athletic looking black man with a perpetual scowl, glanced down at her and the others as they approached. "ID."
Darla ignored him, and as she passed he grabbed her roughly by the arm. "Look, girlfriend, no ID, no -"
She whipped around, and grabbed him by the throat, lifting him up a few inches off the ground. "ID enough for you, big man?"
She threw him back to the other vamps, who drained him and left his body in the alley. They entered the bar, locking the door behind them - Darla turned with her finger to her lips, and then was swept away by the crowd.
Xander, Willow, Giles, and Jenny Calendar met Angel at the front entrance of the Bronze, armed to the teeth.
"It's locked up tight," Angel explained. "I found the doorman in the alley. They're in there."
Giles glanced up at the ceiling. "Is there another way in?"
"The windows in the top lead to the upper rafters," Xander said, already making his way to the ladder. Angel followed behind him.
"Wait here," he said, "I'll see if I can get to the front door."
Jesse swayed to the music, eyes roaming here and about. Finally he spied her, dancing, probably taking a break from the gab. It had tried his patience as a human, her incessant chatter; now, with nothing but time in front of him, he thought he could at least stand it. Besides which, the talk would be over soon enough - the real dance would begin.
He moved to her.
"Hey? Hello, caveman boy," Cordelia said, with that infinite air of disdain which clung to her. He grabbed her hand, leading her farther onto the floor, "Hands off the -"
"Shut up," he said calmly. The words had their desired effect.
"Alright," she said, softly, "Maybe one dance."
Darla made her way to the platform, her gaze sweeping around the room to identify where her troops were. They seemed to be in position, one at the locked front door, one at the back exit, and the rest scattered here and there. She shoved the singer out of the way, motioning for one of her lieutenants to come forward. He lifted the girl he was dancing with toward the stage.
"If I might have your attention," she said into the microphone. "Don't panic, please. There'll be plenty of time for dancing later. For singing. You've got the rest of eternity. Welcome..." she spread her arms wide as she vamped out, "welcome to the last night of your lives."
The lieutenant brought the girl forward, a slight young thing, hot- blooded, flushed from her exertions. Darla felt the Master's need, and responded to it, darting forward like an adder to latch onto the girl's neck. She was dry in a matter of seconds. Darla could feel the Master's gratitude in her head, the enormous relief, and still there was more hunger...
She motioned for another victim.
Angel climbed down from the window, Xander at his side, and they crept out across the rafter.
"You aim for the man at her side," Angel whispered. "It's too far a shot to risk hitting one of the humans. We'll have to take Darla out down there."
Xander nodded, and shouldered the crossbow.
The arrow found its mark, and the vampire disappeared. Angel didn't wait to see the results; he hopped over the railing, reaching into his pocket to pull out a stake as he fell. He hit the ground running, and took out the vampire guarding the door in one motion.
Giles was alone when he opened the door. "Where did the girls go?"
"They were going to set up some sort of spell to confuse the vampires. Jenny...Ms. Calendar just said to be ready for anything. What's the situation in here?"
"As near as I can tell there are about 10 of them. The vessel is the blonde at the center of the stage. We have to get to her - there's no telling how many she has to feed on before the Master has the strength to rise."
Giles moved forward, firing the crossbow as he went. Xander continued to fire from the rafter. The vamps began to circle the stage, ignoring the humans except for those already onstage and ready for the vessel. Darla was at the center, out of the line of fire.
Angel shoved the frightened humans toward the back entrance, where Giles had managed to dispatch with the vampire guard. "Move. You'll be safe out there, just follow that guy in the tweed."
He waded through the crowd until he was in the center of the now- empty dance floor.
Darla grinned to see him. "My Angel. How did I know you wouldn't miss this night? It's not too late to join us. To join him." she beckoned to him with one bloody hand. When she spoke again he could hear only the Master's voice. "My childe. Without you the humans are nothing. Rudderless. Join me."
"My soul is your soul," Angel said thoughtfully, as if he hadn't heard her...and then he started to smile.
Darla's own smile melted, replaced by a frown of displeasure, and she flicked her wrist forward - the remaining three vampires charged. He fought them off as best he could, but these fought in a coordinated attack, unlike most of the younger minions he had to face on patrol. He had been trained by the Master himself, in a thousand fighting methods, but with the odds so heavily against him, he could only hold his own, and watch out of the corner of his eye as Darla continued to feed.
Xander turned toward the ladder at the top of the rafter to find Jesse waiting for him.
"Jesse," Xander whispered, and swallowed his guilt back. "Jess, man, I'm sorry -"
"Sorry?" Jesse said calmly, contemptuously. "Sorry. Because I'm not the loser of the group anymore? I'm not the honorary member of the Scooby Gang?"
"No, Jess, it wasn't -"
"I was alone," he said bitterly, though he still wore a hideous grin. "I was the outcast. You had Willow, and she had you. And I had no one."
Xander stared at him, horrified beyond speech.
"But don't be sorry," Jesse continued. "I'm not the man I used to be. I'm in touch, bro. I can smell everything, I can hear everything."
He licked his lips, staring at Xander's neck. "I can hear your heartbeat, your blood pumping."
Xander backed away, raising the crossbow to aim at Jesse's heart.
"Aw, you wouldn't hurt an old friend, would you, Xand-man?" Jesse said, slipping back into his human face. "Nah, too much humanity in you. Don't worry, we'll fix that real -"
Suddenly the room was filled with a bright light. For an instant they were all blinded - Xander could hear Jesse and the other vampires in the room scream in terror and fury, and when he could see again, Jesse was coming for him.
"Looks like Wills and the other teacher aren't playing by the -"
He stopped - Xander was staring at the center of his chest. Jesse looked down to find an arrow in the middle of his heart. He fell into dust.
Giles and Xander scrambled to Angel's side, stakes drawn.
"You fools!" Darla shouted in the Master's voice at the minions. "Protect the vessel!"
Angel started forward, shouting back over his shoulder, "Just keep them off of me for a few minutes."
"You can't hurt me, my Angelus," Darla said in her own voice again, "The laws of nature -"
"My soul to your soul," Angel said confidently, drawing another stake. "Natural law says that the vessel is the Master's body for the night of the Harvest. And I am no childe of the Master's."
Darla backed away looking desperately for a weapon, anything, to block his attack, but he brought the stake down. She caught his hands in hers, and twisted to throw him into the drumset onstage.
"Yes, childe, I am the Master," she said, "And I taught you well. But now is the time for the last lesson, though I'm afraid you may fail the final exam," she snapped the wooden leg off of a chair, "the teacher always keeps himself one step ahead of the pupil."
She hurtled forward, bringing the makeshift stake down in a wide arc toward his heart. He rolled out of the way, off the stage, and she leapt after him. He managed to wrestle the stake out of her hand, but she uppercut, sending him flying over the bar. He stood up, dazed, to find her standing over him, and she threw him over her shoulder. He slid to a halt on the dance floor.
"One final time," she said, "one last dance."
And then there was a crossbow in his hand, and he looked up to see Giles, bleeding and slightly glass-eyed but nonetheless very alive - Angel whirled to face Darla as she hurtled toward him, and pulled the trigger even as she reached out to touch him.
Darla fell into his arms. She started to dissolve in his hands -
- but madly the smile remained on her face.
"Too late, my Angel," she croaked, "Too late."
And then she was gone.
Xander, Giles and Angel stumbled out of the Bronze, Xander clutching his sprained left wrist, Giles wiping at a gash on his forehead which was bleeding copiously into his right eye.
"I...I left them...in the alley," Giles breathed. "They...they said they w-were going to stay there -"
But it was empty.
"Wills?" Xander whispered, terrified, then he spun around, shouted at the top of his lungs, "Willow!"
There was no answer.
A mile away, she stumbled to a halt, and fell to her knees in exhaustion and bald fear. Her sweater was ripped and gashed, as if she had been attacked by a mountain lion. Such as it was it was uncomfortably close to the truth.
She and Jenny had just finished with the spell Ms. Calendar had euphamistically called "The Nightlight" when a trio of demons had surprised them, and advanced on them, between the girls and the only way out of the alley. Jenny had started to mumble another protection spell when the lead vampire had growled something to the other two about silencing the witch - they had leapt forward, clamping their cold hands on both of their mouthes before Jenny could finish the spell.
Half-dragged and half-carried, the girls found themselves in a very few moments standing in front of the Master, who to their horror was apparently no longer imprisoned, and looking immensely satisfied with himself. In a panic, she had thrown herself away from her captor - purely by luck, she had caught the vampire momentarily off-guard, allowing the slightest window. She had wriggled out of his grasp, and turned around to plant a kick into his crotch. Apparently the injury hurt as much in undeath as it did in life - the vamp had fallen, moaning, to the ground.
What had happened next was still a source of confusion to her - the other vampires had started toward her, surrounding her, when the Master had raised his hand to stop them.
"Let the little one go," he had said, voice full of a horribly benevolent kind of a confidence. "We have what we came for. There is time enough for the others later."
She had backed away slowly, unable to take her eyes away from his twisted, paternal presence. The vampires around him had growled at her (though none of them dared give chase) - yet he had smiled warmly at her. Jenny had struggled desperately against the other vampires, to no avail - they had begun to recede into the night, fading, until the only thing that Willow had seen was his grin, lingering like the Cheshire cat in some dark Wonderland.
That was when she had turned to run.
Distantly she heard the sound of sirens, ambulances, police, drawn to the Bronze like flies to rotten meat. Sickly she began to dread returning home - she imagined returning to find her mother on the front stoop, arms open, to tell Willow that Xander had been among the dead found inside the Bronze. On the heels of leaving Ms. Calendar alone against the Master, she thought that such news might drive her out of her mind. All things considered, in the loneliness of the night, perhaps the blissful unawareness of insanity was the best alternative.
But it wasn't her mother she found on the porch when she finally found herself in her neighborhood; not her father, either. It was Xander.
In the moment that he turned to her, she realized with a jolt that he had been harboring the same feelings for her as she had for him for what seemed like forever. She realized it because at this instant, by his agonized expression, she knew he had been experiencing the same dread and terrible fear for her safety that she had for him. In that instant, all thoughts of Jenny Calendar, Rupert Giles, Angel, the Master, had fallen away, leaving nothing but peace (for the brief moment) in their stead.
She ran to him, collapsed into his arms, sobbed helplessly, even as he held her and did the same. They knelt together on the ground, stayed there for a moment, unable to speak, unwilling to move lest the spell be broken and the heavy world come crashing back down on them again.
But finally she pulled away from him, reluctantly, dabbing uselessly at her eyes.
Xander spoke first, with an effort. "Will -" his voice was a husky whisper. "I...I was so t-terrified for you. We couldn't find you at the Bronze, w-we thought the vampires had gotten you...you and Ms. Calendar -" his eyes widened slightly, as if he had just now remembered who else he was supposed to be looking for. "God, Will, have you seen her -"
She shook her head sadly. "She...the Master got her. I was lucky enough to escape -" but very suddenly that seemed wrong, very wrong. It wasn't luck, or fate - it was by design that she was still free and Jenny wasn't. "- t-to get away, but she..." Willow gulped. "They took her away."
Xander nodded solemnly, though she sensed he still felt a guilty sort of relief. Perversely, Willow was touched by the sentiment.
"Where are Angel and G-giles?"
"Still looking for you...you two, I imagine. We'd better get back to them," and there it was, she thought sadly, there he goes again. Unable to look her in the eye, unable to say the words. But finally she had seen it in his face - just a moment before, the look which signified much more then the concern between best friends.
And, dammit, she wouldn't let it slip away from her grasp again.
He started to turn away - she grabbed his hand, gently tugged him back to her, and leaned forward to press her lips into his. And it felt so natural, so timely, even in crisis, that she didn't want to stop it. She wanted to make it grow, stretch into a hundred, a thousand moments. There was nothing awkward or silly or ugly about it, like the hundreds of kisses on TV and the movies that she and Xander had laughed at as children. This was...real, it just...it just was.
They lingered that way for a long time, it seemed, before finally the natural compulsion for oxygen broke them apart. Even after they had taken a deep breath, Xander closed his eyes, leaned in again expectantly - but she unwillingly put her finger to his lips, whispered calmly, "No more. Not now. First we find the others."
Giles and Angel had returned to the library, ostensibly to bandage Giles' wound, actually on the off chance that either of the girls had returned to the only mutual place of safety which all of them knew. Of course it was dark and empty upon their arrival. After 250 years of existence, Angel was prepared to take death and the loss of friends at face value, but he was worried that the glazed look coming over the librarian's eyes was not just the result of the minor concussion he had recieved at the Bronze.
Which was why Angel was nearly as happy for Giles' sake as for Willow's when she walked into the Bronze, Xander a step behind. But the look of infinite sadness on her face when she saw that Giles and Angel were alone was enough to sweep the momentary happiness they all felt away like the insubstantial mist that it was.
The night of the Harvest the Master sat quietly on his throne, pretending to be engrossed in an ancient Mellville, actually looking down his nose at the hundreds of minions scattered around him, intent on his words (or lack their of), almost quivering in excitement. He waited a long while, to let the juices simmer, then looked dramatically at the wall clock.
Time....
"Bring forth the vessel."
At his side, Luke started. "But Master, I was chosen to be -"
"Silence," the Master said patiently. "A change of plans. In honor of my Angel choosing sides against us."
The Master could sense how furious Luke was at the perceived betrayal, but like a good childe, he kept his tongue silent. Until he saw who had been chosen in his place.
Darla strutted forward from the shadows, gracing Luke with a contemptuous smile.
"Her!?" Luke roared, "She is the vessel!? I have been your loyal servant for these hundreds of years and you would choose her over me?"
He moved toward her menacingly, and Darla crouched in a defensive posture.
"You would rush into your own demise over so unimportant a matter as this one, Luke?" the Master spoke icily. "You do not choose your battles wisely, childe."
Luke either didn't hear his master's voice, or chose to ignore him - it didn't matter which. Darla glanced sideways at the Master, saw him nod almost imperceptibly.
She drew a stake out of her coat. Luke grunted in surprise, but his challenge was on the table - he had no choice but to attack. He was strong, had lived and fought at his master's side for two centuries, but Darla had the sire's support, and double Luke's years. He led a vicious charge, but he was simply too bulky to move quickly, and she dispatched him with a flick of her wrist. The Master felt a moment's twinge of regret at his loss, but the sadness was quickly lost in the glory of the night.
Darla went down on one knee in front of her Master. He reached out to her with his left hand - delicately she took it and sank her fangs in, drained a bit of the cold blood, enough to ensure that the blood would flow for the ritual.
"My blood to your blood."
He brought his wrist back, dipped his fingers in like an artist with his pallete, and painted the mark of the triple point on the pale flesh of her forehead. She shivered beneath his touch.
"My soul is your soul."
She opened her eyes - they shone with anticipation.
"My body is your instrument," she intoned breathlessly.
He smiled benevolently down at her. "On this...most hallowed night...we are as one," he stood up tall, looking down on the minions. "Darla is the vessel. Protect her as you would me, with your lives," as if to make a point, he looked down at the pile of ashes that had been Luke.
"Every soul she takes will feed me. And their souls will grant me the strength to free myself. Tonight I shall walk the Earth," he paused, if for nothing else then effect, "and the stars themselves will hide!"
He looked down at Darla, still at one knee at his feet. "Rise, childe."
She stood up.
"Suggestions for the Harvest?"
She grinned ferally. "I know just the place."
Darla and the little knot of vampires strode confidently toward the Bronze. Along the way they drew strange looks from the few who dared to be out at night - but per her order they all wore their human visages.
"Mingle," she told the rest of them as they approached the club. "Dance. Make with the merry. We wait until we've got them surrounded before we make a move."
Inwardly she congratulated herself. The subtle approach would never have occurred to Luke. That was why she was alive and he was gone. And not yet a word from her soul-ridden childe. Perhaps his threats had been a bluff after all.
The doorman, an athletic looking black man with a perpetual scowl, glanced down at her and the others as they approached. "ID."
Darla ignored him, and as she passed he grabbed her roughly by the arm. "Look, girlfriend, no ID, no -"
She whipped around, and grabbed him by the throat, lifting him up a few inches off the ground. "ID enough for you, big man?"
She threw him back to the other vamps, who drained him and left his body in the alley. They entered the bar, locking the door behind them - Darla turned with her finger to her lips, and then was swept away by the crowd.
Xander, Willow, Giles, and Jenny Calendar met Angel at the front entrance of the Bronze, armed to the teeth.
"It's locked up tight," Angel explained. "I found the doorman in the alley. They're in there."
Giles glanced up at the ceiling. "Is there another way in?"
"The windows in the top lead to the upper rafters," Xander said, already making his way to the ladder. Angel followed behind him.
"Wait here," he said, "I'll see if I can get to the front door."
Jesse swayed to the music, eyes roaming here and about. Finally he spied her, dancing, probably taking a break from the gab. It had tried his patience as a human, her incessant chatter; now, with nothing but time in front of him, he thought he could at least stand it. Besides which, the talk would be over soon enough - the real dance would begin.
He moved to her.
"Hey? Hello, caveman boy," Cordelia said, with that infinite air of disdain which clung to her. He grabbed her hand, leading her farther onto the floor, "Hands off the -"
"Shut up," he said calmly. The words had their desired effect.
"Alright," she said, softly, "Maybe one dance."
Darla made her way to the platform, her gaze sweeping around the room to identify where her troops were. They seemed to be in position, one at the locked front door, one at the back exit, and the rest scattered here and there. She shoved the singer out of the way, motioning for one of her lieutenants to come forward. He lifted the girl he was dancing with toward the stage.
"If I might have your attention," she said into the microphone. "Don't panic, please. There'll be plenty of time for dancing later. For singing. You've got the rest of eternity. Welcome..." she spread her arms wide as she vamped out, "welcome to the last night of your lives."
The lieutenant brought the girl forward, a slight young thing, hot- blooded, flushed from her exertions. Darla felt the Master's need, and responded to it, darting forward like an adder to latch onto the girl's neck. She was dry in a matter of seconds. Darla could feel the Master's gratitude in her head, the enormous relief, and still there was more hunger...
She motioned for another victim.
Angel climbed down from the window, Xander at his side, and they crept out across the rafter.
"You aim for the man at her side," Angel whispered. "It's too far a shot to risk hitting one of the humans. We'll have to take Darla out down there."
Xander nodded, and shouldered the crossbow.
The arrow found its mark, and the vampire disappeared. Angel didn't wait to see the results; he hopped over the railing, reaching into his pocket to pull out a stake as he fell. He hit the ground running, and took out the vampire guarding the door in one motion.
Giles was alone when he opened the door. "Where did the girls go?"
"They were going to set up some sort of spell to confuse the vampires. Jenny...Ms. Calendar just said to be ready for anything. What's the situation in here?"
"As near as I can tell there are about 10 of them. The vessel is the blonde at the center of the stage. We have to get to her - there's no telling how many she has to feed on before the Master has the strength to rise."
Giles moved forward, firing the crossbow as he went. Xander continued to fire from the rafter. The vamps began to circle the stage, ignoring the humans except for those already onstage and ready for the vessel. Darla was at the center, out of the line of fire.
Angel shoved the frightened humans toward the back entrance, where Giles had managed to dispatch with the vampire guard. "Move. You'll be safe out there, just follow that guy in the tweed."
He waded through the crowd until he was in the center of the now- empty dance floor.
Darla grinned to see him. "My Angel. How did I know you wouldn't miss this night? It's not too late to join us. To join him." she beckoned to him with one bloody hand. When she spoke again he could hear only the Master's voice. "My childe. Without you the humans are nothing. Rudderless. Join me."
"My soul is your soul," Angel said thoughtfully, as if he hadn't heard her...and then he started to smile.
Darla's own smile melted, replaced by a frown of displeasure, and she flicked her wrist forward - the remaining three vampires charged. He fought them off as best he could, but these fought in a coordinated attack, unlike most of the younger minions he had to face on patrol. He had been trained by the Master himself, in a thousand fighting methods, but with the odds so heavily against him, he could only hold his own, and watch out of the corner of his eye as Darla continued to feed.
Xander turned toward the ladder at the top of the rafter to find Jesse waiting for him.
"Jesse," Xander whispered, and swallowed his guilt back. "Jess, man, I'm sorry -"
"Sorry?" Jesse said calmly, contemptuously. "Sorry. Because I'm not the loser of the group anymore? I'm not the honorary member of the Scooby Gang?"
"No, Jess, it wasn't -"
"I was alone," he said bitterly, though he still wore a hideous grin. "I was the outcast. You had Willow, and she had you. And I had no one."
Xander stared at him, horrified beyond speech.
"But don't be sorry," Jesse continued. "I'm not the man I used to be. I'm in touch, bro. I can smell everything, I can hear everything."
He licked his lips, staring at Xander's neck. "I can hear your heartbeat, your blood pumping."
Xander backed away, raising the crossbow to aim at Jesse's heart.
"Aw, you wouldn't hurt an old friend, would you, Xand-man?" Jesse said, slipping back into his human face. "Nah, too much humanity in you. Don't worry, we'll fix that real -"
Suddenly the room was filled with a bright light. For an instant they were all blinded - Xander could hear Jesse and the other vampires in the room scream in terror and fury, and when he could see again, Jesse was coming for him.
"Looks like Wills and the other teacher aren't playing by the -"
He stopped - Xander was staring at the center of his chest. Jesse looked down to find an arrow in the middle of his heart. He fell into dust.
Giles and Xander scrambled to Angel's side, stakes drawn.
"You fools!" Darla shouted in the Master's voice at the minions. "Protect the vessel!"
Angel started forward, shouting back over his shoulder, "Just keep them off of me for a few minutes."
"You can't hurt me, my Angelus," Darla said in her own voice again, "The laws of nature -"
"My soul to your soul," Angel said confidently, drawing another stake. "Natural law says that the vessel is the Master's body for the night of the Harvest. And I am no childe of the Master's."
Darla backed away looking desperately for a weapon, anything, to block his attack, but he brought the stake down. She caught his hands in hers, and twisted to throw him into the drumset onstage.
"Yes, childe, I am the Master," she said, "And I taught you well. But now is the time for the last lesson, though I'm afraid you may fail the final exam," she snapped the wooden leg off of a chair, "the teacher always keeps himself one step ahead of the pupil."
She hurtled forward, bringing the makeshift stake down in a wide arc toward his heart. He rolled out of the way, off the stage, and she leapt after him. He managed to wrestle the stake out of her hand, but she uppercut, sending him flying over the bar. He stood up, dazed, to find her standing over him, and she threw him over her shoulder. He slid to a halt on the dance floor.
"One final time," she said, "one last dance."
And then there was a crossbow in his hand, and he looked up to see Giles, bleeding and slightly glass-eyed but nonetheless very alive - Angel whirled to face Darla as she hurtled toward him, and pulled the trigger even as she reached out to touch him.
Darla fell into his arms. She started to dissolve in his hands -
- but madly the smile remained on her face.
"Too late, my Angel," she croaked, "Too late."
And then she was gone.
Xander, Giles and Angel stumbled out of the Bronze, Xander clutching his sprained left wrist, Giles wiping at a gash on his forehead which was bleeding copiously into his right eye.
"I...I left them...in the alley," Giles breathed. "They...they said they w-were going to stay there -"
But it was empty.
"Wills?" Xander whispered, terrified, then he spun around, shouted at the top of his lungs, "Willow!"
There was no answer.
A mile away, she stumbled to a halt, and fell to her knees in exhaustion and bald fear. Her sweater was ripped and gashed, as if she had been attacked by a mountain lion. Such as it was it was uncomfortably close to the truth.
She and Jenny had just finished with the spell Ms. Calendar had euphamistically called "The Nightlight" when a trio of demons had surprised them, and advanced on them, between the girls and the only way out of the alley. Jenny had started to mumble another protection spell when the lead vampire had growled something to the other two about silencing the witch - they had leapt forward, clamping their cold hands on both of their mouthes before Jenny could finish the spell.
Half-dragged and half-carried, the girls found themselves in a very few moments standing in front of the Master, who to their horror was apparently no longer imprisoned, and looking immensely satisfied with himself. In a panic, she had thrown herself away from her captor - purely by luck, she had caught the vampire momentarily off-guard, allowing the slightest window. She had wriggled out of his grasp, and turned around to plant a kick into his crotch. Apparently the injury hurt as much in undeath as it did in life - the vamp had fallen, moaning, to the ground.
What had happened next was still a source of confusion to her - the other vampires had started toward her, surrounding her, when the Master had raised his hand to stop them.
"Let the little one go," he had said, voice full of a horribly benevolent kind of a confidence. "We have what we came for. There is time enough for the others later."
She had backed away slowly, unable to take her eyes away from his twisted, paternal presence. The vampires around him had growled at her (though none of them dared give chase) - yet he had smiled warmly at her. Jenny had struggled desperately against the other vampires, to no avail - they had begun to recede into the night, fading, until the only thing that Willow had seen was his grin, lingering like the Cheshire cat in some dark Wonderland.
That was when she had turned to run.
Distantly she heard the sound of sirens, ambulances, police, drawn to the Bronze like flies to rotten meat. Sickly she began to dread returning home - she imagined returning to find her mother on the front stoop, arms open, to tell Willow that Xander had been among the dead found inside the Bronze. On the heels of leaving Ms. Calendar alone against the Master, she thought that such news might drive her out of her mind. All things considered, in the loneliness of the night, perhaps the blissful unawareness of insanity was the best alternative.
But it wasn't her mother she found on the porch when she finally found herself in her neighborhood; not her father, either. It was Xander.
In the moment that he turned to her, she realized with a jolt that he had been harboring the same feelings for her as she had for him for what seemed like forever. She realized it because at this instant, by his agonized expression, she knew he had been experiencing the same dread and terrible fear for her safety that she had for him. In that instant, all thoughts of Jenny Calendar, Rupert Giles, Angel, the Master, had fallen away, leaving nothing but peace (for the brief moment) in their stead.
She ran to him, collapsed into his arms, sobbed helplessly, even as he held her and did the same. They knelt together on the ground, stayed there for a moment, unable to speak, unwilling to move lest the spell be broken and the heavy world come crashing back down on them again.
But finally she pulled away from him, reluctantly, dabbing uselessly at her eyes.
Xander spoke first, with an effort. "Will -" his voice was a husky whisper. "I...I was so t-terrified for you. We couldn't find you at the Bronze, w-we thought the vampires had gotten you...you and Ms. Calendar -" his eyes widened slightly, as if he had just now remembered who else he was supposed to be looking for. "God, Will, have you seen her -"
She shook her head sadly. "She...the Master got her. I was lucky enough to escape -" but very suddenly that seemed wrong, very wrong. It wasn't luck, or fate - it was by design that she was still free and Jenny wasn't. "- t-to get away, but she..." Willow gulped. "They took her away."
Xander nodded solemnly, though she sensed he still felt a guilty sort of relief. Perversely, Willow was touched by the sentiment.
"Where are Angel and G-giles?"
"Still looking for you...you two, I imagine. We'd better get back to them," and there it was, she thought sadly, there he goes again. Unable to look her in the eye, unable to say the words. But finally she had seen it in his face - just a moment before, the look which signified much more then the concern between best friends.
And, dammit, she wouldn't let it slip away from her grasp again.
He started to turn away - she grabbed his hand, gently tugged him back to her, and leaned forward to press her lips into his. And it felt so natural, so timely, even in crisis, that she didn't want to stop it. She wanted to make it grow, stretch into a hundred, a thousand moments. There was nothing awkward or silly or ugly about it, like the hundreds of kisses on TV and the movies that she and Xander had laughed at as children. This was...real, it just...it just was.
They lingered that way for a long time, it seemed, before finally the natural compulsion for oxygen broke them apart. Even after they had taken a deep breath, Xander closed his eyes, leaned in again expectantly - but she unwillingly put her finger to his lips, whispered calmly, "No more. Not now. First we find the others."
Giles and Angel had returned to the library, ostensibly to bandage Giles' wound, actually on the off chance that either of the girls had returned to the only mutual place of safety which all of them knew. Of course it was dark and empty upon their arrival. After 250 years of existence, Angel was prepared to take death and the loss of friends at face value, but he was worried that the glazed look coming over the librarian's eyes was not just the result of the minor concussion he had recieved at the Bronze.
Which was why Angel was nearly as happy for Giles' sake as for Willow's when she walked into the Bronze, Xander a step behind. But the look of infinite sadness on her face when she saw that Giles and Angel were alone was enough to sweep the momentary happiness they all felt away like the insubstantial mist that it was.