Part 25


Late afternoon


****


William Pennington perched quietly on a stool at the bar, nursing a large glass of whiskey. Deep in reflection, a long slender finger absentmindedly toyed with his glass as the troubles of the last few months rested heavily on his bowed shoulders. A small flight bag lay at his feet and, with the knowledge that the rest of his personal belongings were already winging their way across the country, reluctantly, Pennington had time to kill.

Pulling a crumpled Marlboro packet from his jacket pocket, William lit up a cigarette and, staring at what appeared to be a damp patch on the far wall of the bar, drew the nicotine deep into his lungs.

The airport would be hot and stuffy at that time of day and, although he couldn't bear staying in Sunnyhell a moment longer than necessary, the prospect of forever leaving the small town, left a dull nagging ache deep in his chest. He worried that the scars, of coming to this place, would remain with him for the rest of his life.

William closed his weary eyes and took another long drag on his cigarette.

It was killing him having to give up his home and his family, but Will was finally being realistic and accepting the truth. There was no future for him now in Sunnydale. Seeing Buffy everyday and not being able to love her, or even touch her was a pain he could no longer live with. He simply wasn't that strong. In the end it was that reason and that reason alone that made up his mind for him. He had to get out of this town not only for Buffy's sake but more importantly, for his own.

**That's right. You keep telling yourself that mate and one day you might actually believe it**

Sliding his gaze down the length of the bar William motioned for the bartender to fill up his glass again. It was, after all, going to be a bloody long afternoon.

After his talk with Darla he was more sure of his decision than ever. So, a few hours later, with just a few packing cases in tow, he closed the mansion door for the very last time. Darla could have the place now and if for any reason she didn't want it, well, it could rot for all he cared. William was well on his way to the airport when it dawned on him just how much time he had to kill before his late night flight to London. Deciding to drown his sorrows with bad American booze one last time he stopped the cab right outside the local bar and sent his luggage on in his place.


**If it got there great, if not, he really didn't care anymore. Sadly, William was past caring about anything**

The local bar he often frequented was at best a dive, but it did have one saving quality, it was always deadly quiet at that time of the afternoon. The perfect place for him to lose himself in.

Willy, the bartender recognised the young poet the moment he first entered the bar, but years of experience had taught him to appreciate when a person wanted to talk or when they needed be left alone. From the dark expression etched on the troubled man's face, William Pennington very much wanted to be left alone.

And that's how he stayed.

Lost in a dark world of sorrow and regret, Will kept his back to the room and blanked out anyone who came too close for comfort. He ordered a whiskey, knocked it back in one long swig and then, ignoring the misery that was threatening to suffocate him, he steadily worked his way through the first half of the bottle.

In three hours, the bartender was the only one brave enough to approach the downcast young man.

"Again?" Willy asked, pointing towards the almost empty glass on the counter.

Lifting his piercing blue eyes, the customer shook his head.

Crushing out his third cigarette in an ashtray on the bar, William stared down into the golden depths of his drink and realised that it was definitely cutting off time. He had places to be and the airline wouldn't let him board the plane and fly back home if he arrived at the check-in desk too drunk to stand up.

**Besides, what was the point of getting paralytic? ** He thought bitterly.

William knew only too well that getting pissed wouldn't help. No matter how hard he looked at it, there was simply no solace to be found in the bottom of his glass. **There's no peace to be found anywhere in this god-forsaken town.**

Willy was still hovering, holding a cheap bottle of imported scotch, but his customer was no longer interested. Glancing at his tab, the poet pulled a handful of American bills from his wallet and slapped them down on the counter. The tip was generous and the bartender smiled.

"No, I'm through." With the air of defeat radiating from every pore in his body William slipped off the stool, and then added almost as an afterthought " I've got to get the fuck out of this hell hole before I go insane"

Tossing back the remains of his drink, he picked up his small flight bag, threw it over his shoulder and, without a backward glance, he walked out into the fading daylight.

*****

Outside the street was almost deserted.

William tried for at least ten minutes to find a cab but, at that time of the evening, it was near impossible. Not wanting to waste any more time hanging around outside the bar, his feet turned and headed off in the direction of the local bus station.

As William pounded along the pavement, he tried everything in his power not to think of a certain blonde girl who would always hold a special place in his heart. He failed miserably. No matter how hard he tried his Judas thoughts refused to comply and his mind was filled with images of Buffy. She was everywhere in this town. William could see her face in every building, on every street corner, and in every fair-haired female that smiled in his direction. There was simply no escape from his torment; every way he turned Buffy Angelus was haunting him.

**You bastard. You low-life lying bastard. I've been in hell for the last two weeks and all the time you could have ended it. That was when you could have saved me **

**Let go of me. It's not you, it was never you**

**I could never love a man like you.. You're beneath me**

Before he'd even realised where he was heading William found himself on the sidewalk outside Buffy's gallery. The building was dark and the shutter was pulled down but, as the door was slightly ajar, he knew she had to be in there.

As he ran his eyes lovingly over the Summers name above the door, every instinct shouted out for him to keep on walking. Buffy had made her feelings perfectly clear about never wanting to set eyes on him again and the very last thing he should be doing was contemplating walking in and surprising her. It was wrong. He knew it wouldn't do any good but, even as he stood there hesitating, Will also knew that he had to try one last time to make his peace with the girl he would never see again. He couldn't bear that her last memory of him was so disgusting.

He wasn't a complete fool, William knew that Buffy could easily laugh the apology back in his face, but that was a chance he would just have to take. Just one last time he needed to tell her that he really was sorry and reassure her that he would never interfere in her life again. And then, no matter if she laughed or not, he was gone.

"Hello?... "

William pushed open the gallery door and knew immediately that something was very wrong. Tiny shards of glass snapped beneath his boots as he ventured deeper into the building. Hitting the light switch on the wall by the doorway, the room flooded with artificial light.

"Buffy?"

The first thing Will saw was the African figure abandoned on the floor at his feet.

His voice rose an octave as tiny tremors of fear flitted into his heart.

"BUFFY?"

Dropping to his knees William ran his finger through the small pool of congealed blood and recoiled with horror as Darla's chilling words came back to haunt him.

**Well maybe its time to stop playing games and get rid of the little bitch once and for all**

**Stopping her from breathing? Good idea little brother. That works just fine for me.**

"Oh, God"

**I'm not being dramatic, I'm just saying, maybe it's time I got rid of the bitch once and for all**

"You stupid Wanker" William cursed himself for not taking his sister's threats seriously. From the amount of blood on the floor and the lack of a struggle he knew Buffy was in the worse kind of trouble imaginable.

**That's if that physco bitch hadn't already carried out her threat**

The small hairs on the back of his neck stood on edge and his blood almost burned with rage

"DARLA! Where the hell are you?"

Getting up off the floor, William frantically cast his eyes around the room, looking for anything that would give him an insight into his sister's twisted head.

Darla had played this far too close to her chest and, at that moment in time, he honestly didn't have a clue where to start looking for her. Just as he was about to head back outside, a small black purse caught the corner of his eye. He recognised it immediately seeing as how it had cost him a thousand bucks the previous Christmas. Picking up the bag from under a counter, William quickly turned the contents out across a glass display case.

In the blink of an eye, make up, tissues and a fistful of loose change spiralled across the flat surface.

Darla's address book, hidden away in a small side pocket brought a total blank but on sliding his fingers deeper into the designer bag, William smiled in relief and carefully removed a small leather bound diary. The tiny gold lock wasn't a problem for the heel of his boot and within seconds of ripping its remains from the hard leather cover his fingers were furiously flipping through the fragile pages.

Monday 2nd. Liam called to cancel our lunch Date. There's been an accident and he has to fly to New York.

William continued to scan the articulate handwriting for anything that would help in his search for Buffy. After reading page after page of endless female gossip, it was the most recent entries that finally stopped him cold. Everything he needed to know was there. His deep blue eyes widened in horror at the hatred blazing out from every page.

"Oh, fuck!"

******

"No, YOU don't understand... I need to speak to Liam Angelus.. NOW! "

William paced anxiously up and down the gallery floor as he waited to be connected to Liam. On the other end of the line a secretary was trying her best to persuade him that Mr. Angelus and Mr. McDonald were both unavailable that afternoon but William was too frantic to take notice of her excuses.

"What do you mean the tosser can't be disturbed? Look, I'm not fooling about here, this is a matter of life and death" Raking a nervous hand through his hair, William shouted into his cell phone. "Just get him out of the fucking meeting and tell him to meet me at the old high school .. NO, you listen you daft old bint, not tomorrow, not next Wednesday RIGHT THIS SODDING SECOND" He cut off the annoying secretary before she could protest and immediately started to dial a new number.

91.. Just as he was about to hit the final digit William's shaking finger hesitated, the enormity of the situation sinking down so heavily on his shoulders that he caught his breath.

"What the hell am I doing?"

**This is kidnapping and possibly a damn sight lot worse**

William was torn. If the police got involved before he could find her, Darla would end up behind bars for the rest of her life. As much as he wanted to protect Buffy, he also realised that his sister was all he had left in the world, and no matter what she had done, he had no choice but to try and save her from prison.

**And what about your own involvement, you pillock?**

At that second thought, self-preservation kicked in and reluctantly he switched off the phone. He would save Buffy at all costs but first he needed to see how bad the situation was. Once Buffy was safe, he would find a way to save both his and Darla's worthless hides anyway he could.


*****


Buffy groaned and, keeping her eyes closed against the intense pain, she tried to lift her head.

"There you are" A chillingly calm voice floated out from the shadows and drifted deep inside her mind "I was beginning to think you'd sleep the whole night away"

Buffy shifted uncomfortably in her seat, as the ropes binding her wrists burned angrily into her flesh. Slightly disorientated, she blinked twice, trying desperately to see through the dim light and place her new surroundings.

All around her the air was filled with strange aromas. Fresh paint, plaster, new wood, and something quite out of place.. Gasoline?

Lifting her head a fraction Buffy winced as a searing pain shot through the back of her battered skull. Blood, rich and sticky matted her blonde hair and a wave of nausea rose up and burnt the back of her throat, as the last thing she remembered that afternoon surged back into her head.

**Someone had hit her. Hard**

Without moving her head more than was necessary, Buffy's eyes flickered through the shadows, confused by her strange surroundings. Although it was getting dark, the moonlight shining in from the large glass windows gave enough light to make out the outline of a large room, possibly a library.

There were stacks up against the far walls but for some unknown reason there were no books in this library. In fact, the whole room was stripped of all furniture and the high bare walls had a strong odour of fresh paint.

Wherever she was Buffy knew she certainly wasn't in the gallery any longer.

Whatever had happened in the time that had elapsed, her whole body was now in pain. From the aching in her limbs she felt as if she was bruised from head to toe.

Buffy pushed down the pain and fought to remember. It was fuzzy but the memory was still there. Someone had been waiting for her at the gallery that afternoon, there had been footsteps and then...

**I was beginning to think you'd sleep the whole night away**

"Darla?"

The silence only lasted for the duration of a single heartbeat

"You should never have come back, Summers"

Buffy immediately recognised the female voice and a large pang of resentment coursed through her that she had been so easily fooled. Narrowing her eyes slightly, she once again searched through the shadows.

With a small unnerving smile turning the corners of her lips, Darla took a footstep forward. Pale moonlight washed over her small frame and when its silver glow highlighted the blonde woman's hair, it gave her an almost ghostly appearance.

Bully swallowed the shock that took her breath away.

**Deja vu**

This was how all her nightmares had started ever since the accident. She swallowed again; there were just too many similarities for comfort.

Darla stood stock-still and savoured the flash of dismay that briefly froze her rival's features. Chillingly, not a flicker of emotion covered her own face.

Still struggling with the shock of being tied up, and Darla's impersonation of Casper, Buffy snaked her tongue out to moisten her dry lips.

The strongest aroma in the room also clung to her skin. She could taste...

"What's that smell?" Buffy didn't know why she'd even asked. She'd known the answer before the words had left her mouth.

Acting her part to perfection Darla lifted her nose and took in the strong scent that floated on the evening air.

"My guess would be gasoline. Oh, dear, It looks like the whole place is doused with it." She replied innocently and ran her finger across the wet counter in the middle of the room. A sticky trail proved her right. The room was literally swimming with the volatile substance.

"I don't understand.. Where are we?" Buffy asked the one question that seemed to be haunting her most. Her head was splitting and she could feel a lump the size of a mountain protruding out from her hair but no matter how hard she delved into the dark void of her mind she couldn't place the room.

Darla walked closer.

"You don't recognise the old place, Buffy?" She raised a sardonic eyebrow and then, almost as an afterthought she sighed slightly too theatrically.

" Damn, of course you wouldn't. Well, not if that amnesia of yours is genuine..." she took a slow breath and the tone of her voice then dripped in sarcasm " Though personally, I think the jury is still out on that one"

Buffy shook her aching head wishing she could make sense of Darla's strange babbling and that the bitch would get to the point. There was something so familiar about the room but she couldn't quite put her finger on it.

At Buffy's still confused look, Darla's lips tightened together

"Give up? Okay, let me give you a little clue.. We're right back where it all started, Buffy. This is our beloved high school. Well, this is what's left of the high school." she answered calmly, almost too calmly.

A slow smile then spread across her features.

"It's funny really, from the outside everyone thinks this place is nothing but a burnt out shell but that's where they're wrong. I was there that day and I remember. It was only the gym and a few of the outer buildings that were really lost. The main building stood up well to the fire of 99. See how nice it's looking. Those poor workman have been renovating it all summer... All for nothing"

Darla rambled almost affectionately about the building they had both attended in their teens. Not that much of it made sense to Buffy. Suddenly, the array of alarm bells ringing inside her head was going into overdrive.

Ignoring the walk down memory lane, she frantically searched the room looking for a second party. There had to be a second party.

"Where's William?"

Darla looked up in genuine surprise. **Amnesia girl still hadn't got it**

"You really do give blondes a bad name" She snorted as she walked around the chair. "William didn't do this, you stupid little cheerleader... I did" A mixture of cold insanity and red-hot pride danced in her cool liquid eyes.

She smirked and the expression cruelly distorted her once beautiful face.

"Poor little Will, that fool really does love you and if you hadn't been so determined to hold on to Liam, it could have been so different. You and my little brother could have gone off happily into the sunset... Too late now of course, now we are playing with my rules"

As the words slowly registered Buffy froze and glared at her in horror. For the first time she could see the real hatred shining from the other woman's face

"I thought we were supposed to be friends?"

In her heart Buffy already knew the answer to that statement. Even with total amnesia she had known it was all a lie, right from that first meeting at lunch when the nagging voice in her ear had screamed out that Darla Penn was not to be trusted. Her confusion and lack of memory could only be blamed so much. Every instinct inside her begged not to trust this two-faced devil, but like a blind fool, desperate for crumbs of her past, she had ignored the warning time after time.

At the array of emotions crossing Buffy's face, Darla threw back her head and laughed. To see the truth finally dawn across her dim rival's features was everything she had ever wanted.

**Well, almost everything**

"Friends? Don't make me laugh. I hate you. In point of fact, I've always hated you. You're nothing but a whiny, annoying, selfish, little bitch. "

Darla's grin widened across her cruel mouth as she backed away. She needed a better view; she didn't want to miss a second of Buffy's pain.

Buffy cursed her stupidity "I can't believe I walked right into this"

Darla laughed again, she was on a roll now and nothing would stop her.

" You and that little brat pack of friends of yours made my school life a living hell. Buffy Summers, always looking down your crooked nose thinking you were better than me." Darla whined miserably at her distorted memories of high school. For years she had blamed every one of her many failures on Buffy.

Buffy shook her head

"You're wrong" she argued defensively. She wasn't sure yet how she knew the other woman was lying but she just did.

Darla quirked and eyebrow.

"Am I?. I don't think so, Summers. Remember, I'm not the one here with convenient amnesia"

"No, your the one living in fantasy land" Buffy shot back.

Darla rolled her eyes and dismissed the insult without a second thought. She was the one in control here. Finally, she was the one with the power.

As more of her twisted past rose to the surface of her mind, her hatred for Buffy intensified.

"It just didn't matter what I did you always had to be first" Her pained gaze turned dark " You even stole my first boyfriend"

And there it was the first seed of a life long hatred.

Buffy gasped, as ghosts from her past crept over her soul and brought back the memory with tiny whispers. As if a veil lifted, she remembered the little boy in question. Sandy blonde hair, long lanky legs and a face full of freckles.

** His name was Riley.** Buffy suddenly remembered how the poor little boy had won her heart with a bar of chocolate one afternoon in the schoolyard. It was hardly Romeo and Juliet. Three hours after the chocolate had gone; she had cruelly dumped him. Riley cried for a month. Strangely, as the pictures replayed in her mind, Buffy had no memory of Darla in the equation at all.

Buffy's eyes then widened in disbelief.

"We were five" she responded softly, so softly that her rival, in her angry state almost didn't hear her.

Darla took a step forward, her suspicious eyes never leaving Buffy's face for a second.

"So you do remember? I guess I was right about your so-called amnesia " She snapped fiercely and then smiled. "Or maybe it was the crack to your poor little head that did the trick. Maybe I should charge you a fee for returning your memory"

The few seconds of silence that followed was deafening

"Oh, God. You're completely crazy" Buffy's heart dropped with the sudden realisation. This wasn't an angry William keeping her prisoner over a broken heart; this was much more dangerous than that.

The woman holding her captive wasn't playing with a full deck of cards anymore.

Darla leaned towards her, her eyes so fierce it took all Buffy's strength not to show the fear that was choking her.

"Oh, honey. I left being crazy about three turnings back. But try not to take this personally, I'm not doing this *just* because I hate you with every bone in my body. No, it's much simpler than that.

Buffy flinched when Darla's hand touched her hair, the strong smell of gasoline lingering on her manicured hand.

"I want your husband"

Buffy felt as though she had been physically struck. In her heart she knew it and yet hearing the words still knocked her sideways.

" I love Liam, I always have and you, you are all that's standing between us and that perfect happy ending every couple in love dream about.."

For an instant Buffy was too stunned to even respond. Shock and disbelief registered on her face as it all fell into place.

Revelling in the bewilderment written clearly across her rival's face, Darla tossed her head back and chuckled. Then reaching beneath the freshly painted counter, she removed a large, well-hidden gasoline can. Without once taking her eyes from Buffy's face, her long manicured fingers slowly twisted the cap.

"I'll be his wife, the mother to his children and you, you my dear girl will just be the first wife, the one that ran off, again." Darla smiled and insanity burned brightly from her pale blue eyes. "That's how the official report on your disappearance will read. Only the two of us will ever know the truth. That poor little Buffy ended up nothing more than a big pile of ash on the library floor. That's if there's still a floor left when the fire finishes its feast."

Darla splashed the gasoline at Buffy's feet and the liquid happily added to the multitude already soaking into the floor.

As the full impact of Darla's words struck home Buffy hit back

"You're delusional. Angel will never love you. Even if I wasn't around it would still NEVER be you." Buffy's eyes flashed with fire as the other woman physically flinched " Face it, Barbie. My husband's just not into crazy bitches with plastic breasts"

Momentarily Darla froze, her bright smile of success fading away. Her recovery, however, was swift and violent.

Buffy's head snapped back with a crack as Darla's small hand viciously backhanded her.

"And that's just where you are wrong, bitch." She raised her hand again as if to continue the assault but when Buffy held her head high, ignoring the blood dripping from her split lip, Darla decided that words would hurt her far more than actions ever could.

"Liam will be so devastated by your second disappearance that he will be easy pickings. I can even make him believe that you ran off with William for a while, that will be fun. That poor boy, his heart will be broken all over again. But don't you worry about Angel too much; I'll be here to give him all the support he needs.... Just like I did the last time you ran off."

Darla smirked as the words hit right where she knew they would.

"You should never have come back, Buffy."

A tiny spark flashed unnoticed in hazel orbs. Darla made her first real mistake. Anger only made the other woman stronger.

Buffy refused to show any of the fear that was racing through her body. She was sick and tired of being manipulated by the woman in front of her and if she somehow did manage to escape this alive, she promised herself she would strangle Darla Penn with her own two hands.

**And dance on your grave**

Snaking out her tongue she licked the blood from her split lip and glared back.

"But I did come back and even after everything you did to us, Liam still wanted me and not you. Face it, Darla. Once a loser always a loser"

Darla shrugged her slim shoulders as if the words were of little importance. She grinned and the slow knowing smile that spread across her face sent renewed shivers down Buffy's spine.

"Yes, you came back once, but unless you believe in reincarnation you won't be doing it again. So, tell me this, Buffy. Now who's the loser?"

The smell of fresh gasoline rose up from the floor and swelled around her head.

Cold fear gripped Buffy's heart as she realised that she'd been here before. This was how she felt in her dreams. Suddenly her nightmare was being played out right before her very eyes. The fire that had haunted her every night since her return wasn't just a memory trying to break through from her past; it was also a glimpse of her future.

For a moment there was no sound. Nothing changed except the level of hatred passing between the two females occupying the room.

And then the equation shifted.

"Darla. Where the fuck are you?"

At the introduction of the third voice both Darla and Buffy turned their heads.

The voice was male and sounded distant yet each female recognised it at once.

William.

Placing the gasoline can on the floor, Darla turned and headed towards the shuttered windows. She placed her small fingers on either side of the bars and peered through. Although the light was dim, her brother's bleached hair was plainly seen in the moonlight.

"Dammit, I should have known he'd never really leave you. " Darla muttered the curse beneath her breath before turning back.

"Looks like a hero is here to save the day after all. What a shame he's not going to succeed in time. "

With a swift kick, Darla's foot struck out and hit the gasoline can, toppling it over with a crash and sending the remaining contents snaking out across the new wooden floor. Buffy's eyes widened in horror as the clear, volatile liquid snaked towards her. As panic and adrenaline raced through her blood stream, her hands frantically tore at the ropes binding her wrists and ignoring the pain, she hid any show of emotion on feeling them slowly loosen. For a second they shifted slightly but it still wasn't enough to free her. Her bones were small but Darla had done a good job tying them and no matter how hard she fought, the ropes struggled to hold on to their prisoner.

"Now, where did I put those matches?" Darla smirked and brought a small box from her pocket. With an almost silent strike, she waited for a second before carelessly dropping the match.

"Ooops," an evil grin lit up her face as the naked flame came into contact with the wet wood. With a horrifying whoosh, a ball of orange engulfed the counter and surrounding area, hungrily feasting on the fuel that had earlier soaked into the floor. Like a golden predator, the flames moved almost in slow motion, licking at the freshly vanished wood, feeding from the fabrics and devouring the paint. Nothing was safe from the budding inferno. Crackling with gratitude, the fire consumed everything in its path, suffocating natural colour from the room and leaving a trail of black destruction.

Feeling the heat prickle on her skin, Darla stepped back. She watched in fascination as the fire spread, slowly wrapping its red and yellow tentacles around the wooden stacks. Fuelled by the gasoline and the evening breeze, the energetic flames danced happily up the walls, scorching off the new magnolia covering. In seconds, months of hard work and restoration went back up in smoke.

Darla giggled as she watched her handiwork. As the flames threatened yet another set of stacks a new thought crossed her twisted mind. What a shame, it seems the next generation of Sunnydale wouldn't be attending the high school this year after all.. Or the next, or even the one after that.

"I would stay and enjoy the show but sadly I've got places to be, husbands to console" Darla let the real hatred she felt for Buffy burn dangerously in her eyes.

Taking one last glance in her rival's direction, she watched as the flames moved ever closer and knew that this time, up against Buffy Summers, she would be the one to come out on top. There would only be one winner in this last little competition and for the first time in her life, it wouldn't be Summers.

Darla took a step back.

"For God sake, Darla. Don't do this." Looking across the distance that separated them, Buffy met her eyes and knew in that single glance that it was hopeless to try and reason with the other woman. Futilely twisting her hands against the rope binding her, she felt her whole body stiffen with frustration and rage. As the worried flesh tore from her small wrists Buffy realised with a sinking heart that the woman in front of her was beyond listening. Darla Penn was beyond rational thought, beyond sanity, and sadly for Buffy, she was beyond reasoning with. Darla was running on a mixture of pure hatred and insanity and no matter what happened next, Buffy knew she wouldn't get any help in that direction.

Darla smiled as if she suddenly had all the troubles of the world lifted from her shoulders.

"So long Buffy, have a nice... death" With those final words she took a few more steps backwards and let the shadows behind her swallow her retreat

*****


Now alone in the library with only the fire as a companion, Buffy fought hard to breathe.

Within a few seconds the hungry flames had reached the abandoned paint cans and turpentine stored in the corner and one by one the lids exploded, feeding the monster and spawning tiny offspring in every direction.

Refusing to die like a frightened animal, Buffy struggled even harder, but as she fought for her very existence, the dam holding back her memory began to crumble.

Suddenly, a world full of images flooded Buffy's mind

The smell of burning was all around her, filling her senses, bringing back the past in a rush of terrifying Technicolor.. As she struggled to loosen her binds, her head was filled with forgotten pictures...

The sound of people screaming, dying in agony filled every corner of her mind as her shattered memory was thrown back with a vengeance. Unable to do anything else, she watched in horror as the bus that she had been travelling on crashed and burst into flames. She'd been asleep when the brakes had first locked on. The force of the skid violently woke her from her slumber that night and then, almost in slow motion, the vehicle had started spinning out of control. As it careered across the lanes of traffic, hitting everything in its' path, the metallic monster finally smashed through the barriers and rolled down the embankment.

Inside the carnage, bodies of every description moved almost silently through the air, hitting against the seats like broken dolls. There was glass and metal and pain and then, when it looked as if it couldn't possibly get any worse, a shock wave of heat rushed through the debris scorching everything in sight.

Buffy watched through closed eyes as the flames in her memory shot through the destruction with a brutal, hungry roar, not discriminating who or what they smothered. The old, the young, the trapped, their screams all filled Buffy's ears as her own battered body was thrown miraculously from the wreckage. Then, as she waited for her turn to die, the sound of sirens filtered through the madness and made their way into her head. Through the pain she felt a soft hand reach out and stroke her brow and then, with a last vision of Liam flickering across her dropping eyelids, her traumatised mind finally closed down. Amnesia and a world full of confusion had followed and brought her right back here.

And now, in a sick twist of fate she was burning all over again.

As wave after wave of memory attacked Buffy's mind, she became even more determined to stay alive. She rocked on her chair, twisting at her wrists and ignored the blood that dripped down her fingers. After devouring the counter and the freshly varnished stacks, the fire moved straight for it's next victim. Buffy choked as a wave of thick toxic smoke attacked her lungs.

As the thought of burning to death became a frightening reality, Buffy's resolve to escape became even stronger. Her eyes streamed and her lungs burned but she refused to give in. She'd see Darla Penn in Hell first.

At the thought of the crazy bitch playing happy families with Angel, anger surged through her bloodstream again. With a crash the wooden chair holding her toppled over and without knowing, or at that point caring, Buffy found her hands finally free.

She tossed the ropes away and scrambled to her knees. Although the fire was too close for comfort, Buffy stayed down on the floor for a few seconds gasping for breath. The oxygen at that level made breathing slightly easier and she needed a clear head to workout the best escape route.

Looking across the smoke she saw that the exit Darla had used was now totally blocked by flames so the only way out now was to move back through the school.

Through pitch black, smoke filled corridors. What ever her plan Buffy had to do it sooner rather than later.

When the fire made contact with a second set of builder's supplies, a blinding flash sucked any remaining oxygen right out of the air.

Taking one last deep breath Buffy crawled towards what she hoped she remembered as the exit.


****


While Buffy was fighting for her life, fate joined in the twisted equation and once again played its hand.

Suddenly, the fire destroying the library found a new friend to play with. A small storeroom, out of sight but situated directly beneath the blaze, started to silently smoulder with the ferocious heat. Within seconds of the small explosion above, gallons of forgotten cleaning fluid ignited with a swish and as the plastic canisters melted with the heat, the liquid they were holding exploded with a vengeance.

There were now two fires raging out of control.


****


Back in the library.

Buffy couldn't believe how quickly the room was disintegrating. One by one the beams supporting the ceiling began to creak and groan, as the timber grew weaker. Covering her hair with her hands she crawled her way through smoke as burning cinders rained down on her head.

**Oh, God. I'm really not going to get out of this alive**

TBC....


And here's a tiny hint for the last two parts...


**I'll always come to your rescue** *CoughAngelcough*

A/N. The last parts will be coming fast and furious;)