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See the first two parts if you've got any questions

(c) October 1999, Eleri McCleod

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*****

Part 2

*****

Angel paused in the doorway, glass of water in hand. His chest tightened as he watched Buffy silently. She was slowly turning pages of the photo album, brow wrinkled in concentration. So far she hadn't remembered anything, but she wasn't ready to give up yet.

"It's in there somewhere," she had said, flicking a hand at her head. "I just need to shake some of these marbles up a bit. It'll come back." She hadn't sounded as confident as the words implied, but she hadn't taken a break.

Watching her now, Angel felt more proud of her than ever. Confused, lost, unsure, she still attacked life, not allowing it to dictate to her. She flipped another page, blonde hair gleaming in the lamplight. His eyes traced her profile, eminently more familiar than his own. Well, you haven't seen it in almost two and a half centuries, he told himself, suddenly struck by an inexplicable urge. He set the glass on the table and sat next to Buffy.

"These aren't striking any chords here." She traced her finger from one picture to the next. "Why aren't there any of you? Of us?" Beside her, Angel drew a breath and took her hands. She turned to face him expecting an answer, getting an intense look instead. "Angel?"

"Tell me what you see when you look at me," he whispered, hating the pleading note in his voice, but unable to stop it.

"What I see," she repeated, unsure. "You mean, really see, or, you know, that other stuff?"

"Anything."

"Oh, okay." Buffy licked her lips nervously, drawing his gaze. She stuttered out the first words, having no clue where this was going to go. "You have brown hair. Very, uh, very *nice* brown hair." Her hand followed her eyes, feathering through the silky strands. "Soft and thick. Like velvet." Her voice relaxed and lowered, finding that *right* feeling within her again. "A strong jaw, full of stubborn. Full lips, but soft, tender. I know that from your smiles, your kisses."

The vampire felt his eyes prick at the gentle tone. Her hand was warm, almost hot, as it floated along the line of his jaw and traced his lips. Buffy had told him that she loved him before. But hearing it and being caressed with it were two completely different things. Somehow she still knew him. He could see it when she looked at him, touched him, smiled at him.

"And your eyes," she murmured, brushing her fingertips along his temple. "Deep, dark brown. Almost as deep as the feelings you try so hard to keep inside. But nowhere near as beautiful as the man who owns them."

They stared into each other's eyes, frozen in a moment neither wanted to break. I am home, Buffy thought deep within her heart. And I'll always be here, Angel answered just as silently.

A loud thump from above jolted them apart. She blinked, grabbing the glass of water. "Wow," she said, cheeks burning. She tried but only got her eyes as far up as his chest. "I have no idea where all that came from. Really."

Angel smiled, still suffused with her warmth. "Don't worry about it." I do, he finished silently. He watched as she gulped down water, trying to hide her embarrassment. "It's okay, Buffy, really," he reassured, taking the glass away from her. Knowing she needed the mood lightened, he took the opportunity to tease her a little. "At least you didn't blurt out what you wrote in your diary this time."

"What?" Buffy did blurt. "My diary? Please, tell me I so did *not* do that." Angel couldn't keep the smile from his face remembering how she'd babbled on, irresistible in her righteous anger. Seeing the look in his face, she buried her head in her hands. "Oh, God, I did. Kill me now. Put me out of my misery, please!"

"I, uh, don't think that will be necessary," came Giles' voice as he moved down the stairs. "I've found another one."

"I'll tell you about it later," Angel promised quietly. She nodded, head still in hands. He turned back to Giles. "Any luck with the rest?"

"Mission accomplished. They should be here any time." He pulled his glasses off and rubbed his eyes. "One can only hope they will be effective."

"You guys say they're really good friends, right?" Buffy got up to pace. "Why wouldn't I remember them?" she asked, not seeing the pained look on Angel's face.

Giles did however and felt a pang of sympathy for the vampire. "In all honesty, Buffy," he said, trying to smooth the moment over. "If you were going to remember anyone, it would be Angel."

She turned to look at man still seated in front of the photo album. "And I do. Well, sort of."

Suddenly, Angel's head popped up to stare at the front door. "Giles," he started, only to be interrupted by the sound of a door slamming outside.

Buffy dropped into a crouch, hand reaching toward her belt. Staring at the door, she suddenly felt two pairs of incredulous eyes on her. She slowly stood up straight and looked bewildered at her empty hand. "Why did I do that?" she asked quietly, eyes flicking worriedly between her hand and the two men. "It's just a door, right?"

All three jumped when a pounding started at the door. "Giles! Buffy! It's us! Let us in!" came the calls from three different voices.

"That's them, huh?" she asked nervously as Giles unlocked the door. Angel tried, but couldn't think of anything comforting to say that wasn't just a platitude. Buffy looked overwhelmed as the three Slayerettes burst into the room.

"Buffy, my God, are you alright?" They surrounded her, throwing questions like baseballs. "What happened? Cordy only said you couldn't remember things. Angel, weren't you there?" The last was thrown like a fastball by Xander, which earned him a tight scowl in reply.

Buffy backed away a step and held up her hands to stop the tide of words. "I'm okay, uh, Willow. You're Xander, right? Okay, and Cordelia." They merely stared at her, unsure how to respond to her uneasiness. "Angel says I got knocked into a headstone. And I still don't know why I was even in a graveyard to begin with," she said pointedly to Giles and Angel, who shared a look and, again, said nothing.

Xander blinked and turned to the Watcher. "She really doesn't know?"

"We were hoping that seeing you three would help, but that doesn't seem to be the case." Giles shook his head, moving back into the room.

Willow sank onto the chair next to her. "This is bad." She looked shell shocked.

"Bad?" Cordelia threw back at her. "Hello? I can think of a lot of words to describe this and 'bad' is really the nicest."

"Would someone please tell me what's going on?" Buffy exploded, glaring at all of them. "You guys keep saying that I don't remember and that that's a bad thing, but you won't tell me what I'm not remembering. Don't you think it might be a little more productive if somebody just told me?"

Silence reigned in the room. No one knew what to say, but they all knew who should say it. Four, then five, pairs of eyes turned to Giles, who sighed and took off his glasses again. Wiping them with a handkerchief, he gestured for everyone to sit down. "Well, uh, where to start?" he asked rhetorically, pacing around the seated group. None of it was going to sound plausible, so he decided to go for the big one. "For the past two years you have been a, uh, Vampire Slayer."

Buffy stared blankly at him. "Huh?"

"'In each generation, a Slayer is born. One girl, in all the world, a Chosen One. One born with the strength and skill to hunt the vampires, to stop the spread of evil.'" Giles looked apologetically at the others for using the over-done quote. "Sorry, but that is the easiest explanation." Buffy still stared. "'In all the world, a Chosen One,'" he repeated. "That is you."

"Yeah," she snorted. She laughed, expecting the others to join in the fun. No one else moved. "You think he's serious? All of you? Come on, guys! Vampires? Yeah, I saw that movie too and it was really cheap. Next story, please." She got up to try to shake off the uneasy feeling that was crawling down her back.

"It's not a joke, Buffy," Willow said kindly. "I remember when I found out. It took a little getting used to."

"'Getting used to?' You *all* are insane and, pictures or not, I think I'll be leaving now." She grabbed her jacket only to be blocked by Angel. "Excuse me. I've had enough of the 'Twilight Zone' I can take for one night." For some reason Angel looked as uneasy as she felt.

Giles walked around to face Buffy, glasses back on his nose. "We can prove it to you." He didn't wait for an answer, simply turned to look at Angel. "I'm sorry, but it is the only way."

Angel stared at Buffy, pain settling deep in his eyes. "I know," he whispered. He stepped away, never breaking eye contact. His soul cried out against revealing the truth again. He liked the way Buffy looked at him without the dark knowledge of his secret shadowing the brilliance of her eyes. He liked the way she touched him, freely with no fighting of the Slayer Instinct inside her. Knowing the truth would change that. Knowing the truth, she would wonder about his motives, at least until her memory returned. It was too close, too similar to when she first found out he was a vampire. He steeled himself, taking a breath, knowing what he was risking. And wishing with all his heart that he didn't have to.

Buffy simply stared up at him, unable to ask the questions that floated through her brain. Angel looked as if someone were torturing him. Except his was an inner pain, one that she wanted to take away, to soothe, to make that desperate look disappear forever from his eyes. Her heart whispered to run, to grab Angel and run before this secret was out. But she stood still, waiting for her world to come crashing down around her.

"You guys might want to hold her." Angel sounded dead. The words seemed to hang in the air, forming a thick layer of tension that wrapped around them all. "She is the Slayer and we know what might happen."

Buffy swallowed, fear beginning to replace the uneasiness. "What might happen? Angel? Giles?" She eyed each of them, feeling the weight of Angel's gaze never leave her. "Why do I need to be held?" A panicked note entered her voice.

Xander took hold of her right arm slowly, not knowing if she would throw him off. I don't like this, he thought. Not remembering Angel is okay with me, but making her find out like this is not cool. He looked at the vampire for a moment, unable to miss the pain in his eyes. He thought of all the times he had wished Angel far, far away and felt an unaccustomed surge of sympathy for the demon with a soul. I can't even wish this on Dead Boy.

Buffy stared at Giles on her left. "I'm not going to like this am I?" He didn't reply, just got a grip in her arm. "Oh, yeah. This is just peachy." She turned slowly back to Angel, letting the others adjust their grip. Angel's warm brown eyes radiated love and sorrow and an apology she couldn't understand. She didn't know what hers said. Panic was a pretty good guess.

"Ready?" the vampire asked them. Giles and Xander nodded, bracing their feet. Angel gave Buffy a half smile and took another step away.

Her heart was pounding, stomach churning. She opened her mouth to stop whatever was going to happen, but the words seemed to stick somewhere between her heart and her throat. Angel was just standing there, looking as gorgeous as the first moment she had seen him in the graveyard. Then she felt a clutching in her abdomen and all her muscles contracted on their own, begging for action she didn't understand. "Wha-what's going on?" she pleaded, voice much higher than normal.

Angel swallowed and brought the anger out from the wall he locked it behind. The anger and the bloodlust and the vampire. He let them loose and felt his face begin to change. The brows, the eyes, the teeth. Even before they started altering, he saw Buffy's reaction, saw the Slayer tense for a fight. And felt his heart take another blow. "Buffy, it's me. Angel." He kept his distance, letting her adjust to the shock. "I'm a vampire," the word almost stuck in his mouth, "but I'm not your enemy."

Buffy fought to breathe through the staggering feeling inside her. The instinct to attack this man, this vampire, in front of her was trying to overwhelm her. She stared at Angel's hideous face and took deep breaths, forcibly relaxing her muscles. "I-I'm okay, guys." She nodded to Giles. "I think?"

He slowly released her arm, staying close. "Go ahead, Xander. Buffy, what you're feeling is the Slayer. You don't normally react like this because you've learned how to control it over time." He flicked his gaze back and forth between the two, vampire and Slayer. "Angel is our friend. His soul was returned to him. He would *never* harm you," he finished slowly, making sure she heard him.

Buffy nodded again. "Slayer, sure. I guess you guys aren't as Looney Tunes as I thought. Or maybe *I* am," she added as an afterthought. Then she looked back at Angel. "A vampire. Wow." She could feel the urge to fight still within her, but it wasn't uncontrollable. This is still Angel, she told herself, trying to see past the changed features. There's that connection thingie between us and it feels 'right' to be with him, to kiss him and touch him. He held me so gently in the cemetery. The thoughts seemed to settle something within her. The Slayer didn't scream so loudly when she nodded this time. "Okay. I can deal with this." She smiled shakily. "May I?" she asked, gesturing to his changed features.

Xander stepped between them. "Uh, Buffy, I don't think that's such a good-"

"Yes," Angel broke in. "I trust you, Buffy."

Giles moved next to Xander. " I have to agree with Xander, unusual as that is. You don't know how to control the fighting instinct. Something might flare up if you touch him."

"Giles, Xander," Cordelia piped in. "Listen to you guys. He's a vampire, not a baby. I think he knows how to take care of himself. Besides, Buffy wouldn't even know what to do if that something did happen."

"She's right," Willow said quietly. Then she scowled, looking down. "I didn't just say that, did I?"

Xander looked at Giles sheepishly. "She is making a *little* bit of sense, isn't she?" They stepped away, letting Buffy approach Angel.

"Sure you're okay with this?" she asked, stopping a step from touching him.

"I told you," he assured her. "I trust you."

Staring into his vampiric eyes, Buffy locked down tight on the instinct shouting to end his existence. Concentrating on his eyes, such a different color than the warm brown that had comforted her before, she found the same love and sorrow shining in the bright yellow orbs. She slowly lifted her hand, repeating the feathering caress she had done earlier. His hair was a little coarser than before. The skin rougher than the sleek satin she had stroked. His eyes seemed to soften, the glow growing steadily brighter as the shouting inside her quieted to a whimper, then faded completely. "It's different when I touch you. Not as strong." She slid her fingers over his brow, smoothing the rough arches. "I do know you." She smiled up at him. "The Slayer knows you. It can tell the difference when I touch you. Why?"

Angel couldn't hold the vampire guise in the face of Buffy's joy. As he morphed back, he let out a little sigh. It was never enjoyable to let the vampire out of its box. "Because I have a soul. No other vampire can say the same."

"He's right," Giles sounded surprised. "The Slayer instinct would recognize Angel's soul. You probably do it automatically normally, but now it took physical contact. Amazing." His mind started writing the entry in his Watcher Journal even as Xander stepped forward.

"Okay," he said, uncomfortable with all the touchy-feely going on in front of him. "I'm sure this is truly fascinating to the world of Librarian Watchers, but it helps us exactly how with our current problem? Namely Buffy and her lack of Buffy-ness."

"Yes, indeed." Giles' mind turned itself back to the immediate future. "We need to stall."

Cordelia erupted with a shout of laughter. "Now that's something I never thought I'd hear *you* say." Having no ideas of her own, she turned to the mirror across the room and fiddled with her hair.

"Buffy should call her Mom and tell her she's staying at my house tonight," Willow suggested, moving toward the phone. "It's not like we've never done that before."

Giles nodded absently. "It's probably best if you have as little contact with her as possible until you regain your memory, Buffy. She will be able to tell that something is wrong."

"And since you can't tell her the truth," Xander put in cheerfully, "we just lie to her."

Buffy stared at them all. "Mom? I take it she doesn't know about any of this. And just when did she become Mrs. Observant?"

"When your parents divorced," Angel said quietly behind her. "Not long before the two of you moved to Sunnydale."

"Divorced," she repeated, not wanting to believe it. She looked at Angel, hoping for him to say "Sorry, that came out wrong" but saw the truth in his eyes instead. "I, uh, I should call her then."

Willow dialed for her and handed over the phone. "We do this all the time. She won't think anything's weird." She left Buffy to the ringing receiver and moved into the corner with the others. "What are we going to do? Buffy's got to be back to normal by Monday. We have school. And, and what about all the vampires? We need Buffy to be at her peak Buffsterness," she rambled, eyes wide, jumping from one person to the next.

"Breathe, Willow," Xander instructed, used to his best-friend's little panic tangents. "We'll think of something." He paused for a second, a worried look crossing his face. "Don't ask me what, but we'll think of something."

"Morons," Cordelia snidely tossed out. "Don't you people know anything about amnesia? Especially you, Book-man."

The Watcher looked at her curiously. "Why? Slayers are too hard to hurt to have to worry about amnesia. Well, normally." The glasses came off again. "There's never been a documented case of a Slayer with amnesia. This is totally new."

"Which shouldn't really be a surprise consider we are talking about Buffy." Cordelia crossed her arms over her chest, looking a lot like a particular British librarian in lecture mode. "All you have to do is recreate the events that led up to the initial memory loss. Because that's usually some traumatic event, it causes the person to be in the same state of mind, triggering a recall of the lost time period. "

Four pairs of eyes stared incredulously at her. "Where did you learn all this, Cordelia?" Giles asked, not knowing that the girl could even read anything that wasn't fashion related.

"Duh, I *do* go to school. Okay, and my cousin had amnesia a couple years ago."

"What caused it?" Angel asked, hoping for a similar circumstance.

"Well, she was trying on these really horrid dresses and ... Never mind. That won't help Buffy at all." She paced back and forth a couple times. "What did happen to her?"

Angel sighed, shaking his head. "She got knocked into a gravestone. Hit her head on the corner." A shiver went through him as the scene replayed in his mind. "She *really* hit her head on the corner."

"But that's happened lots of times and she's always just gotten up." Xander smiled a little. "It only seemed to make her mad."

"That's all that happened?" Giles insisted. "You're sure she didn't get hit with something else?"

"As sure as I can be," he defended himself. "I was in the middle of a fight. One second she's beating the crap out of a vampire, the next I hear a crack and she's just laying there, not moving. She was only out for thirty seconds, maybe a minute."

"That's easy then," Cordelia smiled triumphantly. "All we have to do is take Buffy back to the cemetery and push her into a gravestone. No more amnesia."

There was a moment's pause. "Anybody have any other ideas?" Angel asked, not about to entertain the idea of smashing his love's head into solid marble on purpose. Silence fell again.

"Okay," Buffy said loudly, the phone clanging into its holder. "The parental unit is now in on the Willow plan and we're free to get my memory back. Where do we start?" She looked expectantly from one person to the next. They merely stared back, not wanting to voice the only option that had come forward. "Well? What did I miss?"

*****

"We have to move quickly. There's no telling when the Slayer's memory will return." The black haired demon announced, cutting through the chatter. Ten other pairs of demonic eyes swiveled to face him.

"But, Gideon," one female spoke, her slightly shrill voice a contrast to the male's cultured European one. "How can we be sure that the child was talking about the Slayer? If it wasn't her, we won't stand a chance!"

Gideon growled, eyes shifting slightly toward yellow. "Coward." With that one harshly spoken word, a space appeared around the female, clearing the path between her and their leader. He stepped toward her slowly, relishing the way Lisa fell to the floor, fear in her eyes. "For that, I might just kill you myself. But for your information, we have these little things called tests and they can tell us lots of information if we're smart enough to employ them."

"What are you planning, Gideon?" Henry asked eagerly. He wanted a chance for payback. The Slayer had nearly killed him once before. Instead of death, however, she had merely caused him excruciating pain. Any chance of giving some of that back sounded good to him.

"So anxious for violence, Henry," Gideon approved. "We observe. Then we divide. Then we kill." He ran his hand over Lisa's shaking head. "But first we need bait."

Lisa's eyes whipped up to meet his. "Please, Gideon," she whimpered, trembling fiercely. "Please. Not me."

"But of course you, Lisa." He knelt in front of her, gently lifting her face to meet his lips. He kissed her forehead lightly, a sinister smile flashing across his face at the feel of her shaking. "We wouldn't want the bait to accidentally kill the Slayer if she really does have amnesia. I think that's why you're called the sacrificial lamb."

"No!" she shrieked, trying to break his hold on her face. But Gideon was too strong. He stood, carrying her with him. Her feet dangled off the floor, hands gripping his arms.

As the remaining vampires cheered and growled, glad to finally be doing something against the Slayer who had cost them so many, Gideon raised his face to the ceiling of the tunnel and shouted his challenge. It was only fair to give her some warning.

"Let the games begin!"