Part 6:

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"You are not dead," Angel said softly. "You are right here."

"I am not Buffy," the kneeling figure replied, tears running down her human cheek, the chrome half of her face immobile and expressionless. "I'm just some kind of copy. I'm not Buffy."

"You are wrong."

"Am I?" she yelled, jumping to her feet. "Look at me, Angel! Look at what I am! They made me in their lab like some kind of Frankenstein's monster. I stole the lives of over a hundred people, including your precious Buffy! I'm not even alive!"

How was Angel to convince her that she was real, that she was really the person she had thought she was, if he wasn't sure of that himself? Two weeks ago, when he had first returned to Sunnydale after the Initiative lab blew sky high, he would have called anyone who told him that this wasn't Buffy a liar. He had been close to her, had watched over her as she recovered.

He hadn't noticed anything. Sure, he had been sure that something else must have happened to her in that lab, something she didn't, or didn't want to, remember. But never in a million years would he have suspected what he finally found out.

This wasn't Buffy. Not in body. And the rest ... he didn't know. He just didn't know.

"Buffy!" Giles was by their side now, a hand softly touching her shoulder.

"Don't call me that!" She flinched away from his touch. "I'm not Buffy!"

Anne watched them, reduced to the disembodied voice that she was to Buffy, or whatever might remain to Buffy in the figure they were facing. She had told them the truth. In every way measurable by physics this was indeed Buffy. But did that really make her Buffy or just a copy? Was a person the sum of her character traits? The sum of her memories and ...

Memories.

"That's it," she yelled, causing all three of her companions to stare at her. Or at the spot the voice was coming from at least.

"What ...?" Angel began.

"Memories," Anne yelled. "Don't you see?"

The world around them changed, Anne using all of her willpower to drag a memory out of Buffy's mind and make it manifest around them. A memory that she had seen before, as it was one of Buffy's fondest and most enjoyable recollections. A memory that Anne hadn't even realized until now should not be here.

They were in a dark apartment that Angel immediately recognized as his own. The light was dimmed and the only sound was soft laughter coming from the bedroom. With a start Angel realized exactly what day this was.

"I love food," someone said inside the bedroom.

"Where are we?" Buffy asked, confused. "I ... I remember this place, but ... when was I here? I don't remember having been here before, but ... but I was."

Angel needed a few seconds, but finally he understood why Anne was showing them this. He understood and the beginnings of a smile spread over his face.

"Look at this, Buffy," he invited her, pointing toward the bedroom.

She moved closer to him, the protest about him calling her Buffy already on her lips, but trailing off as she looked into the room.

Buffy and Angel, sitting on the bed. Buffy dressed in nothing but one of Angel's large shirts, Angel completely nude. As they watched the couple kissed deeply, which caused ice cream from the spoon Angel was holding to drop onto his chest.

"Mortal coordination leaves something to be desired," he joked, making moves to wipe it away, only to be stopped by Buffy, who lent down to lick it off his chest.

Giles turned away, blushing, but Buffy was watching with fascination.

"I ... I remember this, but ... how could it ... we never ... the curse."

"There was no curse on that day," Angel told her. "The blood of the Mhora turned me human and we spent the day together in my apartment. That was on Thanksgiving, just a few months ago."

Buffy turned toward him and Angel saw that the crimson chrome had vanished from her face. She looked completely human again, her eyes filled with confusion.

"I don't understand this, Angel. I remember this day, but ... but you're not human now. How can this ...?"

She trailed off and the room changed again. Buffy and Angel vanished from the bed, instead they were now standing near the kitchen. Angel looked as if he'd been through a war, bruised and battered, but it was Buffy that seemed to be on the verge of breaking, her eyes red with tears.

"It's not enough time," she sobbed, holding him close.

"You ... you gave it back," Buffy whispered, watching herself and Angel embrace on a day that had never been.

"I will never forget," her past self chanted like a litany. "I will never forget!"

The clock on the wall struck nine and the memory ended. Darkness surrounded them.

"I don't understand," Buffy said.

"The Oracles reversed the day for me. They told me you would die unless I was there to fight at your side, so I asked them to take my life back. When they couldn't do that they instead offered to turn back time. The day would start anew and no one but me would remember that it had happened before. I stopped Mhora before his blood could mix with mine and I never turned human."

She just stared at him, her eyes flush with tears.

"You ... you gave your life for mine," she whispered.

"Yes, Buffy. For you. The you that is still here. Right in front of me."

"No, I ... I'm not ..."

"The day never happened, Buffy," he interrupted her. "The Oracles reversed time and there is no way you could possibly remember it."

He stepped closer, touching her cheek with his hand, a hand that was as warm and human here in this dream world as it had been on that lost day.

"Unless you carry the memories in your soul. The soul that is still here. Right where it belongs."

Her hand came up, trembling, to touch his. There was so much fear in her eyes, so much confusion, that Angel wanted to die if only it would make it better. Her other hand reached out to touch him, his chest where, at least in this place, a steady heartbeat could be felt. The touch alone sufficed to bring back all the memories, bring back an entire day that had been lost to her until now.

Time had been reversed. There was no way she could carry the memories of that day in her brain, where the Initiative sensors could have read and duplicated it. There was no way that a copy of Buffy, however sophisticated, could hold those moments.

Which left her with but one conclusion.

"I ... I'm real?" she whispered. "I'm ... Buffy?"

"Yes!"

Without warning the dream world around them collapsed. Giles, who had been silently watching the exchange from the sidelines, found himself violently returned to his own body, falling onto his back as the crimson metal webbing that had tied them together vanished.

"Giles!"

Immediately the others were there, voices falling all over each other, demanding to know what had happened. Giles looked up and a smile spread on his face.

In the middle of the circle Angel knelt, a once-again thoroughly human- looking Buffy buried in his arms.

"I didn't forget," she murmured between sobs. "I didn't forget!"

"I know." Angel held her as she cried, tears shining in his own eyes. "I know."

Everyone watched them, the two completely oblivious to the outside world, then Giles slowly got back to his feet.

"I believe our undertaking was a complete and utter success," he told the others happily.

"Great," Xander sighed dramatically. "Buff's back for five seconds and all over deadboy already."

"Shut up, Xander," Giles and Willow said at the same time, grinning.

TO BE CONCLUDED