Warrior of the Heart
Author: JimboS
Email: Raistlinm1@aol.com
Disclaimer: I don't own Buffy or any Mutant Enemy characters, so quit saying I do.
Author's note: I'm starting to flesh out this amorphous power that I have gifted unto our favorite everyman, and to me that means finding the downside. Hopefully this doesn't fall under the mindless action category when people read this. I'm actually trying to find a sense of story with it.
Dedication: This chapter is an apology to everyone who invested themselves into the story and felt disappointed when I stopped writing. I hope I can maintain my writing over the summer, but I want everyone who reviewed to know that it has meant a lot to me.
Also Wicked Raygun should be thanked for his excellent beta work.
* * *
Chapter 11
The Journal of Alexander Harris
It seems that every child at some point in his or her life has an imaginary friend. I remember that Willow's imaginary friend's name was Mr. Bundlebaum; he used to quiz her on the books she would read, be the teacher when she played school, or just talk to her about the thematic messages of Curious George. She needed someone to share the joy that learning something gave her, so she made her own study buddy. I guess it just goes to show that the mind will provide what the heart desires, especially when the rules of the world are still young and green enough to bend without breaking.
I remember I had two imaginary friends, named Mr. and Mrs. Goodman; they used to sit and talk with me about my day after I grabbed a snack from the top shelf where my mom would put the cookies. They would read me stories before bed that I would tell to Willow when I saw her the next day and sometimes we would just sit and watch TV together. I'm not stupid, I know that I was looking for parents and looking back I'm lucky that I never talked to the Goodman's when I was at school or in front of Willow's psychologist parents. I'm pretty sure that the signs of neglect and a poor home life couldn't have been clearer, if I was walked through the town square next to a large man screaming, "boy for sale!"
I don't think I was just looking for parents, because I never talked to them when I was with someone else. I just needed someone to talk to, to know someone was there because I couldn't deal with being alone. Without the sound of Mr. and Mrs. Goodman's voices or the sight of them next to me, everything was too quiet and the only person to talk to was myself. Although I guess, technically, I actually was talking to myself.
There is something about being alone in a quiet place that frees a person from all of the lies and stories that they tell themselves to make it through the day. When I was alone, I couldn't keep telling myself that Mom was too busy buying me a present to be home when I finished school, or that Dad was going to take us out to dinner to celebrate his promotion when he came home, or that we were a happy family.
I guess that is why it took me so long to figure out how to shield myself from the outside world. It's comforting to feel everyone's emotions wash over you like a spring shower. Everyone's life force seems to mix together and sometimes I swear I can hear the rhythm of the world beating in my head and resonating in my core. I don't have to lie to myself when I say that everything is okay, because I can feel it and know that I am really no different.
Everyone is unsure of themselves, everyone is searching for their place, and everyone is scared of the future, especially in a town like Sunnydale. People may be able to lie to each other about what they see in this place, but deep down I think they know. There is a feeling that you just can't shake when you're in this town; it's an urgency in the air, like the unnerving calm that sets in right before the storm hits. The only problem is that they aren't on the edge of a storm; they're in the eye of a hurricane.
I guess now that I can stop the buzzing I can finally find out who I am and what I can be. I can confront the silence instead of running from it and in doing so stop lying to myself and finally figure out the truth, "you can't make your family a happy family, you can only pick who you call family."
Xander Harris
* * *
A run down, rusty van made its rumbling and stuttering journey through the foul industrial streets on the west side of Sunnydale. The jarring visual of the uneven mismatching paint surrounding asymmetrical rust spots was only exacerbated by the dark shadows cast by the old and broken streetlights as they passed. Inside of the rumbling van the unlikely group of demon hunters sat in quiet resolve, hesitant to violate the sanctity of the silence.
Willow sat with her back to the wall of the van, directly behind the driver seat, running her fingers along the grains on the crossbow at her feet. She wanted to say something, anything, but she could not make herself do it. She really wanted to thank Oz for agreeing to drive for them, she wanted to tell Buffy that she was doing the right thing, and she wanted to ask Xander what the hell his problem was.
Her best friends looked so strange to her at that moment. Buffy sat to her right, absently inspecting her crossbow, checking the mechanisms over and over again, but the slayer was miles away. Miles ahead to be more exact. Playing out the exchange, figuring out how it would all come to pass and what she was risking by playing their game. The Slayer's eyes shifted around the room as she envisioned each of her friend's deaths if she messed up tonight.
Willow watched Xander sitting against the wall across from Buffy, but he was not staring at her like she noticed he had a habit of doing; instead, he had his head lowered, not making eye contact with anyone. He just sat with his legs crossed loosely, with his knees jutting outward and his elbows resting on them. His hands came together in his lap where his fingers were playing with the large wooden cross and a quickly carved stake that had been given to him. He was also rocking slightly from side to side as he continued to twirl the cross and stake between his fingers. The movement was so small Willow almost missed it when set against the back drop of the moving van, but it was there and oddly hypnotic.
Willow almost expected Buffy to be this quiet and cold, but seeing the same behavior in Xander was too strange. She couldn't understand it. He had been acting so different ever since he came back after being separated last night. It was like somebody had replaced their Xander, leaving behind a perfect Xander facsimile, but without the happy or carefree personality. Going into such a dangerous mission without his confidence and eager attitude was throwing her off her game, and judging from the way Buffy kept her eyes lingering on Xander more than the others; it was bothering her too.
Xander did not notice either of his friends looking at him so intently, but he was well aware of their concern. The entire van was infected with doubt and despair; it hung in the air, filled his lungs and clogged his throat. He was surprised that it was not physically clinging to the walls. He did not possess enough energy to shield himself and still be prepared in the event that the situation turned south; so putting up a shield to block the emotions of his friends was not an option. To make things worse, the energy from the judge was also plaguing him.
He was so tired from last night's melee and just wanted to curl up and sleep, or at least engage in some high level restorative meditation, but there was not enough time nor privacy for either. He was only able to attempt some relaxation techniques and a few minor exercises meant to stimulate the mind and invigorate the body, but the sheer amount of disheartened emotions washing over him was making the task difficult.
When they finally reached their destination, he was so anxious to get away from the emotional assault that he was outside and holding open the doors for the others before the van was even put into park. His apparent eagerness earned him a few strange looks and furrowed brows from the women inside.
"Uhm…my legs were cramped," he half-heartedly explained, with a smile that belied the fact that he was kicking himself for giving such a horrible answer.
"Whatever, I don't see why anyone would be in a hurry to get to this place," said Cordelia, as she climbed out of the van. "Aside from the whole obvious trap thing, could it be any uglier?"
The imposing edifice was an unattractive landmark in a world of unsightliness. Its chipped gray paint was interwoven with large cracks and holes in the cement walls made wider and longer through the years. The worst damage surrounded the main doors that looked to be made out of several pieces of plywood; the area was blackened with lines of light gray highlighting the soot covered wall, a spider web of tiny cracks that radiated from the doorframe that showed the cement wall's inner color.
"This appears to be the same building that was burned the other night," said Giles, as he closed the passenger door of the van carrying a loaded crossbow.
"So do we just knock?" asked Xander while staring at the building he had visited two nights ago. It looked different in the day.
"Since this is obviously a trap it would be reasonable to assume that the front door would not…be the most suitable entrance," he finished lamely. His words of warning were lost on Buffy, who was already out of the van and approaching the thin wooden doors, not waiting for her friends to follow.
The others quickly moved to follow the slayer with Cordelia trying to stay close to Xander and Willow staying back to be next to Oz. Buffy paused momentarily at the door to let the others pull up next to her.
"When we get in there, let me handle this. If anything goes wrong grab the box and get out," she said, giving each member of the group a stare, long enough to make sure they understood.
After receiving a nod from everyone, along with a few dropped eyes, Buffy pushed open the makeshift door and stepped into the darkened factory. The group stopped just inside the entrance, standing in a wedge of sunlight spilling out from the open door into the dim factory, allowing their eyes to adjust to the change in light.
"Are you lot going to stand there all day?" asked a voice from inside. "No manners in this new generation, eh love? They can't even close a damn door."
Buffy closed the door and surveyed the area, looking for signs of life in the gloom. The flickering glow emanating from the lights hanging overhead cast menacing shadows across the already severe furnishing. Straight-backed chairs surrounded a matching long, dark wooden table, and a twisted metal stair rose from the ground, connecting to a crisscrossed set of platforms and walkways.
The double click of heeled shoes echoed through the open space of the factory as Drusilla exited the shadows that were underneath the stairs, pushing a wheelchair bound Spike in front of her. Three other forms separated themselves from the shadows cast onto the right wall: two vampires standing on either side of a bound and gagged Angel, forcing him into the light to stand beside the two master vampires.
"I take it you are willing to make a deal," said Spike as he wheeled himself to Angel.
"Yeah, give Angel to us and then we give you the Judge," Buffy said, while trying to make eye contact with Angel.
"Oh, and while I'm at it, why don't I just stake myself and save you the trouble?" asked Spike with contempt. "I'm crippled not stupid, slayer. I give you the ponce, and you take off with the boy and the box. Not exactly a fair trade."
"Okay, whatever, same time," said Buffy as she put the box on the floor, placed her foot on it, and pushed it half way between the two factions.
"Fine, send him across," Spike said with a nod to the two vampires holding Angel.
The vampire on Angel's left reached into his jacket and brought out a long curved knife, grasping it underhand he brought it up next to his head and with a quick downward strike, which caused a gasp from Buffy, the vampire slashed the ropes binding Angel's hands. The vampire on his right removed the gag and kicked Angel into the space between.
On shaking legs, Angel wobbled toward Buffy and the wooden box. With only two steps between him and the box, Buffy raised her crossbow, fired at Drusilla and broke into a run toward Angel and the piece of the Judge.
However, she stopped in her tracks when the bolt halted its motion in the middle of its flight to the master vampire, resting in Angel's pale hand.
"Now, now, now. That wasn't very sporting, now was it?" said Angel in a faux reprimanding tone, as he snapped the bolt with his thumb.
"Angel?" she uttered quietly and uneasily.
"Yes?"
"What are you doing?" she asked with more conviction.
"What, you need me to put on another jersey or something? I'm switching sides," Angel answered condescendingly, as he picked up the box containing the judge.
"How could you? I thought we had…" she finished quietly, not knowing what to say.
"We had what?" he asked loudly, "Something special? A good time? Hell, I didn't even have that! I wait all that time, act so damn nice, to get in your tight, little pants, and gotta say, wasn't worth it."
"How could you?" she asked, with tears in her voice.
"Well, it was surprisingly easy, now that I think about it," Angel replied. "I guess that was why it was so bad. I mean this silly little girl keeping her knees together tighter than a nun on Sunday, and then a few kind words and a bed and you're ready to scream my name."
"This isn't you," Buffy exclaimed angrily, getting ready to launch herself at him.
"As much as I love watching this little lover's spat, we need to be on our way," called Spike from across the hall. "And since it looks like we'll be getting the Judge and Angelus, I'll have to give you something else."
"What should we give her, Ducks?" he asked the master vampire, who was watching the proceeding with rapt attention.
"Make her bleed. Make them all bleed." She answered softly.
"Good idea," he said, and clapped his hands loudly.
Five more forms detached themselves from the shadows surrounding the room: three coming from the left, and two from the catwalks above.
"Sounds like my boys here ran into a spot of trouble during the last errand I sent them on, but they seem more than eager to make up for it," he said as he rolled to Drusilla and took her hand. "Oh, and Wonder-boy, they're especially happy to see you again. Enjoy!"
The still room erupted into motion as everything started happening at once. Buffy ran toward Angel only to be stopped by a vampire landing in front of her from the platform above. Giles shot a crossbow bolt into the heart of one of the vampires that had been holding Angel. It exploded into dust with a supernatural shriek. Willow tried her luck with her own shot but missed by about two inches, driving her bolt into the vampire's left shoulder. Cordelia tried to grab at Xander's arm to keep him close, but he shrugged her off and threw her his cross as he made a break for a stack of pipes off to the right.
Spike and Drusilla quickly moved to a manhole cover in the floor. Drusilla pulled off the heavy metal cover with one hand and climbed down first with Spike going second, relying on the supernatural strength in his arms to climb down. A wheelchair and a few vampires were waiting at the bottom of the ladder ready to help him into his means of escape. Angel followed closely behind carrying the box containing Judge's arm.
"Do you really think they'll win against a slayer?" Spike asked Angelus as he stepped off the ladder.
"Of course not, but we will," he answered. "Besides, what are minions for?"
The master vampires made their escapes leaving the room behind embroiled in battle.
* * *
Buffy drove her stake forward, trying to end the fight quickly and continue the chase, but her strike was unfocused and the vampire was expecting such a maneuver. The vampire simply turned his hips and let the stake pass in front of him. He grabbed the slayer's wrist and brought it down onto his knee jarring the stake from her hand.
The demon's triumphant grin was short lived however. Buffy shifted her feet to bring one foot behind him and used her superior strength to push him down with her trapped arm. As she followed his movements down, using her arm as leverage, her other arm went behind her back to another stake stuck into her belt and struck at the demon's heart. The stake moved with unerring accuracy toward its target only to be stopped by two cold hands.
A second vampire had arrived, and he twisted Buffy's arm back causing her to be pulled to the ground, but she continued the action and used her momentum to roll through and end up on her feet, holding a stake and facing two grinning vampires.
* * *
Giles tried to reload his crossbow as quickly as possible as he watched a vampire from the left charge him, but his haste caused him to fumble the bolt. His heart fell into his stomach at the same time as his stomach tried to move into his throat, as he watched the projectile tumble to the ground. A glance at the closing vampire dashed any hope of loading another bolt before his throat would be ripped out, so he spread his feet a little wider, bent his knees, cocked his wrists, and braced himself for the impending confrontation.
When the vampire's grasping hands were inches from his throat, the watcher swung his crossbow at the head of the demon. Swinging arms, snapping wrists, and twisting torso all worked in harmony to smash the medieval weapon into the vampire's skull with all of the strength in his body. The vampire reeled to the side, his vision blurred and his ears wringing.
Giles pulled out a cross and a stake from his jacket and closed in on the dazed vampire to end the fight quickly.
* * *
Xander sprinted toward the stack of metal pipes and bars thrown haphazardly in the corner of the factory, a quick examination of the situation did not look good. There were too many enemies and too many liabilities to engage the vampires head on. While he was busy fighting, the others would be left fighting one on one, which could end tragically.
So he pumped his legs as fast as he could, ignoring the aching muscles that were still sore from last nights fight and sleeping in an alley, in search of a weapon that would let him take on multiple enemies and keep him in a position to aide his friends. He skidded to a halt next to the heap of metal with a protesting squeak from the rubber soles of his shoes. A quick search produced a fairly straight and thick metal pipe that would give him reach in a confrontation and let him engage more enemies at once.
Xander looked back toward his friends to see two vampires circling them. One vampire was holding a bloody crossbow bolt in his right hand and his left arm hung loosely at his side. Willow was trying to load another bolt, while Oz and Cordelia kept their crosses raised to keep the vampires from charging. A grunt and another squeak of rubber on concrete signaled the young man's charge.
Xander's movements went unnoticed by the bloodthirsty demons; their focus was on a couple of easy kills shaking in front of them. It was not until the vampire holding the ensanguined crossbow bolt felt the pipe strike his wrist, forcing the bolt to fall to the ground from a nerveless hand, that he noticed the young man. A second blow followed, driving into his left kidney and sending the vampire to the ground.
The vampire was back on his feet in a flash, a growl emanating from his core, his confusion and frustration only fuelling his uncontrolled rage. He turned to find the culprit of the surprise attack, and found the boy from last night engaged with his companion, the boy's back was to him and his neck was deliciously exposed. The vampire smiled the smile of a supreme predator as he charged the boy, visions of flowing blood and strangled screams driving him to act.
* * *
Buffy couldn't catch her breath. Too much was happening; she was alone, and she did not know why. He could not have meant what he said. It could not have been him. Something must have happened to him. He would never… The only thing that felt normal was the feeling of her fist colliding with flesh and bone as she fought for her life.
The two vampires were good, they fought together, and they fought hard. Every strike was potentially fatal, and Buffy found herself on her heals more often than not. She could not focus on the fight, not completely. Her opponent's faces were not their own; they would morph into his face. The face that she wanted desperately to see again but dreaded at the same time.
She saw the punch coming too late, as it flew toward her face. She barely had time to align her body to receive the blow before the fist connected and the pain rushed the short distance to her brain. Buffy rocked back on her heels and took a few steps back as white pinpricks of light burst in front of her eyes.
The pain faded quickly, but it served its purpose. Buffy snapped out of her self imposed torture with a violent shake of her head that brought the pain back and gave her something else to focus on: revenge.
Buffy watched the vampires charge her with a new perspective; they were not just vampires, they were the heartless demons that were destroying her life. They were the reason why she was in a dirty warehouse fighting for her life while she should have been in a school fighting off sleep.
The next punch came from her right, and she knocked it away with such force that the beast actually spun on his axis only to be folded over the slayer's shin as she drove it into his stomach with a crippling force. His companion did not fare any better as Buffy brought her leg back and loaded it for another strike. The thrust kick that followed landed squarely on the vampire's right hip, fracturing the demon's pelvis and sending the unfortunate beast to the ground.
The first vampire was on his knees for only a second as he felt his battered organs and broken ribs begin their mystic healing. He rose to his feet in time to see the punch that was destined for his already fractured ribs and caught a glimpse of the next one that slammed home again, but he failed to see the stake that plunged into his chest and his waiting heart.
The second vampire succumbed to the Slayer's fury as well, literally unable to stand against her final attack.
* * *
Giles went for a quick kill while his opponent was incapacitated, but his opponent was not as stunned as he assumed. The strike was halted by a crushing grip on the watcher's wrist. The vampire jerked him forward by his captured arm, but the librarian used the force of the pull to drive his shoulder into the vampire sending them both to the ground.
Giles hit the ground with a grunt as the air was forced out of his lungs. Like a crocodile with a struggling victim, he thrashed about until the grip on his wrist was broken. Desperate to stay off of the ground where the vampire's superior strength would give him an even greater advantage, he rolled to his right and tried to stand, but he was tackled before he could regain his footing.
The watcher panicked as he hit the ground again and rolled onto his back with the demon resting above him, its yellowed fangs and putrid breath inches from his face. His hand shot forward once again, trying to drive his stake into the vampire's heart, but his effort was met with the same response, his wrist crushed in the demon's preternaturally strong grip.
Giles pressed the cross in his other hand against the vampire's face, making the demon's cheek smoke and burn beneath the holy symbol. A backhanded slap broke his concentration long enough for another hand to clamp down on his wrist and pull the artifact from the burning, undead flesh. His arms were pinned against his chest, hopelessly trapped by the unmatched strength of the vampire; its fiendish visage split into a grin as it started to lower its face toward the watcher's neck.
He watched the vampire move toward his neck agonizingly slow. The moment dragged on and his life started to flash before his eyes, but his revelry was interrupted when he caught a glint of metal out of the corner of his eye. The glint was not there a second ago; at least the watcher thought that was the case. He was proven right when a metal pipe slammed into the side of the vampire's head. The demon fell to the side and Giles jumped at the opportunity driving his stake into the demons undead heart.
The vampire transformed into dust before his eyes, which was an immense relief to the watcher. Only his survival instinct and gnawing curiosity kept Giles from remaining face up on the floor as he caught his breath and tried to figure out how the hell he actually won. With more than a little effort and a few mumbled curses, the librarian made it to his uncooperative, wobbling feet.
* * *
"Look out!" shouted Willow as the vampire started to charge her unsuspecting friend's back.
Xander ducked a wicked slash from the vampire in front of him smirked slightly as he glanced under his arm for a split second to see the other vampire closing in on him and noticed a crossbow bolt laying a step behind him. The vampire in front of him was taking the fight so seriously, continually growling and snarling as he fought, that it was fun to watch. He had to admit, besides the aching muscles, lack of energy, and concern for his friends; he was having fun and thoroughly enjoying the fight. His enjoyment was probably a bad thing, because a plan was forming in the boy's head, a stupid plan. A plan that was probably too risky when it came to his friends, but would be so cool to try.
He snapped upright and blocked another attack at the wrist with the pipe; then immediately followed with a weak strike to the vampire's knee. The beast barely moved with the impact and slashed again at the boy's unguarded throat. The tensed hand raced toward Xander with its dirty claws bared ready to sink into soft skin and rip its way out, but the vampire's action played right into the young man's hands.
He tried as hard as he could to keep from laughing as he saw the hand coming at him while he listened to the vampire behind him start to scream his fury and anticipation. The warrior stepped backward, placing his weight on the bolt. He threw his feet forward and his back backward and waved his arms in his best imitation of an uncontrollable fall.
The fact that the strike coming toward his neck and passed harmlessly in front of his face was a happy coincidence to the three observers that gasped collectively as they watched him fall. However, when their friend's waving arms happened to drive the metal pipe into the charging vampire's shins, cutting off his means of locomotion and sending the demon lurching forward, that was an instance of supreme luck. But when the demon landed on Xander's coiled legs that then catapulted the vampire onward on it's new path, a path that ended with a bone crushing collision with his comrade; now that was a miracle.
Xander slowly rolled forward into a sitting position and grinned as wide as humanly possible when he witnessed the tangle of flailing limbs writhing in front of him. With a long groan that came from the pain in his shoulders and legs, the delighted warrior used the pipe to drag himself to his feet. He approached the tangled mass quickly and found the vampire's heads within. A quick and brutal strike with the pipe splattered blood across the cold, gray, concrete floor and knocked the vampires unconscious.
Seeing the blood dripping from the end of the metal pipe was slightly disgusting to the young man, but it shouldn't have caused the panic that was washing over him at that moment. His body seized up, but his heart was racing like he was running as fast as he could.
He forced air into his lungs and worked to loosen up his body, relaxing his mind along with his body and letting all his surface thoughts fall away. Suddenly, the young man gripped the pipe with both hands and flung it to the right as hard as he could. Only the loud metallic clang followed by a fading groan made the young man look over to see Giles staking a vampire and the pipe rolling across the factory floor.
'Looks like we found out where all of that panic was coming from' he thought to himself. 'Man, I hope I actually meant to do that, or maybe Giles is just the luckiest man this side of forever.'
"Anybody got a stake?" he called to his friends, who had lost all thoughts of helping their friend as they watched the last three seconds of the fight.
"Oh, wait, I found one," he called as he picked the still intact crossbow bolt that had been rolling around its fletched end.
Two quick jabs with the weapon ended the fight quicker than he had figured on.
"Rather be lucky than good, huh?" he asked his friends with a huge grin. "Man, that was almost too easy."
Xander barely finished his sentence before all of the air was knocked out of his lungs by a falling vampire. The demon had watched the fight from the catwalks, waiting for his chance to gain revenge on the boy below him who had maimed his hand the night before.
The boy had been a blur of steel and flesh that night, as he ripped through the vampires. The demon was lucky enough to only be caught on the fringe of that deadly storm; he could only watch as the blade slashed through the air, taking his fingers with it and leaving his right hand useless.
The vampire saw the opening when the boy dispatched the vampires below. He was weaponless and tired; he was dead!
The demon dove from the scaffolding, watching his prey grow closer and closer. He landed on Xander's back, depositing sudden pressure on his knees and ankles. The young man's left ankle rolled to the side, placing too much stress on his left knee, which caused his legs to buckle. With his prey on his knees, the vampire wrapped his arm around his throat while he drove his fist into his side several times. Two ribs bent and broke and his kidney became heavily bruised under the supernatural force that plowed into his side.
The fight was almost over before it had even begun, as the vampire moved his mouth to Xander's neck, savoring the moment before the boy's blood would flow like a fine, macabre wine. The vampire's vision burst with white when his prey drove his head backward, connecting squarely with the demon's nose.
A brief opening presented itself, but Xander had only enough energy to slip out from underneath the arm that had been cutting off his air supply. He landed firmly on his back, looking up at his assailant.
His body shrieked in protest, but he forced his legs up to wrap around the vampire's neck. He could not contain the scream that issued from his throat as he pulled his legs down and twisted his body. The vampire was pulled over his victim's supine body, to land on his back with his neck bent to the side, and tremendous pressure on the joint. Xander quickly adjusted to gain more leverage on the vampire's neck and twisted further, eliciting a sharp exclamation of pain from his entrapped victim. His breath was shallow, but he held on tenaciously, unwilling to let go of the hold that was saving his life. He had the tiger by the tail and no way of letting go.
The harsh yet comforting sound of a vampire dusting was soothing to the young boy's body, as he felt his opponent disintegrate. He slowly forced his body to relax, finding that his senses were swarming with pain, and once again he felt his body sagging with exhaustion from tapping into his internal strength to gain the power to drive past the pain. His chest rose and fell rapidly, pulling in big gulps of air, but no amount of inhaling could fill the hollowness that he felt in his chest once again.
He tried to get up to see who had killed the last vampire, but his injured side and exhausted body would not cooperate long enough for him to make his attempts seem like anything more than an overly ambitious dream. The dim blur that surrounded his vision from his useless attempts made the face that entered his vision undistinguishable. His luck was no better with the others that also came to hover overhead. Thankfully, each blur was surrounded by a halo, each of which a different color, which gave the young man enough clues to establish the identity of the nebulous faces.
"Remind me to never say anything is 'too easy' ever again," he said, as the faces, and his mind cleared. "Can I get a little help? I seem to be having a horizontal moment."
Xander took a deep breath when Willow and Buffy grabbed his hands and concentrated on letting it out slowly as he was pulled to his feet, so he would not grunt, groan, or more likely scream in pain.
"Woah! Maybe we should've spent a little more time horizontal," Buffy said as her friend leaned heavily on her and his knees wobbled under him.
"If I wasn't such a gentleman, I might take you up on that offer," he answered with a smirk.
'Not the brightest thing to say to a girl who just had her boyfriend turn on her, supposedly after they just had sex,' he thought, berating himself as he felt her body stiffen and saw her jaw clench.
"So, who do I owe my life to tonight?" He still leaned heavily on his friends, with his legs wobbling underneath him like rubber. "I'm thinking of buying them dinner, although it seems to happen so often that I'd be broke by Friday."
"Cordelia was the one who staked it," Willow answered. "I would have shot him, but… well, it happened so quick, you were standing and talking and suddenly you were on the ground, and I was so surprised and then I missed. And I was so scared that I didn't know what to do, and you looked so hurt, and I didn't even know what my name was for a second, I'm so sorry, you could have…"
"Hey, it's okay, I understand," he said, pulling her into a hug. "I don't know what I'd do if something happened to you either."
Giles walked beside the three slow-moving friends on their way to the door. The fact that they had only won in order to face the real threat was not lost on him. At that very moment the three vampires could be putting the Judge together and planning to set his evil power loose upon humanity. Experience told him that he would have another night with little to no sleep. He would trudge through the endless stacks of ancient tomes in search of the secret that would be the key to victory. And with countless books saying the same thing, he did not have much hope for a miraculous discovery. Of course, he had to try. The fact that he also had to deal with the mysterious defection of Angel, along with the repercussions that the act had upon his slayer, did not fill him with much enthusiasm.
"I'm afraid we have a long night of research ahead of us," he declared, as they reached the flame-blackened doors.
Willow smiled and locked eyes with Xander, who she knew was thinking the same thing.
"Round Robin?"
"You read my mind."
* * *
"You know, this just proves my theory that all of these books are actually the same one, just with different covers," Xander called out from behind a stack of books accompanied by the sound of a book slamming shut.
Willow walked up behind her friend's chair and moved the book he had just closed onto a larger stack in the middle of the table. When Xander grabbed for another book she grabbed it from him and frowned disapprovingly.
"You should be in bed," she admonished. "If you won't go to the hospital, at least go get some sleep."
"We need all the eyes we have, even if they aren't connected to the sharpest minds. Besides, I'm not even tired," he retorted, but his statement was punctuated by a long and loud yawn.
Willow smirked at him knowingly, but she did not say anything. Xander knew that she was well aware of the irony from her Mona Lisa smile.
"Oh like that counts," he said indignantly.
Willow furrowed her brow at him and gave him the look that was a combination of disbelief and amusement. She still did not have to speak; he knew what she was saying to him through the changes of her expression.
I don't care; I'm still helping."
"I'm afraid she's right, we have plenty of people researching, and Ms. Calendar will be here in a few minutes," added Giles, from behind his own stack of books.
Another yawn came unbidden and Xander begrudgingly admitted defeat, much to the visible delight of Willow. He slowly walked away from the table, trying to look as normal as possible, instead of like the invalid that he felt like. He pushed open the door to the library office and found someone that he had hoped to avoid for a while.
Buffy sat at the desk slumped over with her head resting on an old book, sleeping soundly. He did not know what to say to her, his hatred of Angel had been well documented over the past year and a half, but he never could have imagined that it would have all turned out so badly. Well, if he was completely honest with himself, he had imagined that it would turn out this bad, but the last thing anyone needed was for him to be telling them all that.
She looked so small like that, and it was easy to remember that even with all of her power and speed, she was still a seventeen year old girl, who never asked for this responsibility. The sad fact was that no matter how small she looked or how much he wanted to protect her, she was stronger than he could fathom, except when it came to her heart. He could feel her despair pouring out of her while she slept and could taste the heartache that surrounded her. All he wanted to do was take her in to his arms and let her feel safe, let her feel protected, and maybe, if she really wanted to, feel loved.
Instead, he quietly moved over to the small couch that was pushed up against the office's wall across from the desk, and slowly lowered himself down onto it. The sudden relief of pressure on his sore knee and ankle felt so good that he had to repress a moan of relief that came unbidden to his lips. The bandage tightly wound around his torso was restricting his breathing, but, in exchange for the lack of shooting pain, it was a small price to pay.
His eyes slowly closed, and his mind wandered as his body settled in for what would prove to be a fitful slumber.
* * *
Buffy's head snapped up violently, her body rigid and trembling slightly, her muscles straining as her mind struggled to regain consciousness and catch up with the instinctual actions of her body. When her vision cleared she found herself sitting at Giles' desk unsure of why she had awakened so quickly. Her query was answered promptly when she heard the sound that had broken her out of her slumber.
"No! No! Noooo!"
Buffy turned to find Xander moaning the word over and over as he thrashed around on the leather couch, making his distress clearly evident to the slayer. His eyes were shut tight and his right shoulder was peaking out of the neck of his shirt, partially immobilizing his right arm. The bottom of the shirt was bunched up around his chest, wrapped tightly against his body and trapped between his flesh and the leather couch.
His fist slammed into the wall above the young man's head freeing his right arm from its cotton incarceration, but causing a hole in the drywall and once again trapping his fist in the process. Xander's thrashings only intensified as his right hand oscillated within the hole searching for freedom.
Buffy quickly knelt by her friend's side looking to still his violent outburst and wake him from his nightmare. His left forearm landed heavily on her chest upsetting her balance and sending her sliding across the floor. The slayer grimaced slightly as she stood up and wiped the dust off of her butt before moving back into the amalgamation of thrashing limbs and pained moans.
Another heavy left arced toward her, but quick reflexes allowed her to duck the blow. However, she was not prepared for the back swing, which caught her neck in the crook of the elbow and pulled her into the frenzy. She landed on her friend's chest with the side of her face pressed into his shoulder.
"Xander, wake up!" she cried.
Buffy intercepted his right elbow before it could connect with her head when he finally pulled his arm loose of its prison and another quick strike ended with a firm grasp of Xander's left wrist. Using her hip to gain leverage she finally pinned his hands to the couch and immobilized his chest and shoulders.
"Come on Xander, wake up!" she panted as his chest and head sporadically twitched before finally stopping entirely.
Buffy, who had relaxed her guard when her friend calmed, was suddenly pushed up and against the wall, as Xander's eyes snapped open with a gasp and lunged forward to sit upright and stared forward blankly, his chest heaving. His hands clutched at his thighs to stop from shaking, but the shiver only traveled up his arms to his shoulders and then his chest. Tremors radiated through his body, from his chest, and caused each deep inhale and exhale to quiver, but he continued to stare ahead blankly; his body was awake, but his mind was unable to tear away from his awful dream.
Buffy could feel horror and pain surround her; she could feel it filling her nostrils and invading her mind with panic. With a supreme act of will, Buffy forcibly pushed away the feelings that were so foreign to her slayer spirit, but the emotions still hung in the air like a thick humidity. To her dismay and concern, Xander remained unresponsive and continued his blank staring.
"Xander! I think we've moved to a whole new level of wigging here," Buffy said, trying to keep herself from panicking and tentatively moved to place her hand on her friend's shoulder.
When her hand made contact, the heat bleeding through the fabric of his shirt was astonishing, but Buffy had little time to be concerned with the rapid increase in temperature.
Instead her world was awash with new sensations. Her skin was shivering underneath a swirling winter wind that had no business being in southern California, let alone indoors. Her ears were assaulted by the sounds of metal meeting metal and the yells of furry punctuated by the final screams of the dying. A flash of white light burned in front of her eyes, blinding her for a brief second, and when her vision cleared she was no longer looking at the dim office; she was standing in a large field surrounded by armored men.
The field was awash with fresh blood, assaulting her with its pungent smell. The sounds of battle was less than even a second before, as one army triumphed over the other, but about twenty yards away, the fighting had only truly just begun. The Judge had never known defeat before, and although his army had been driven from the field, he had every intention of destroying the men foolish enough to stand against him.
Lightning spread outward from the Judge through the soldiers who had surrounded him. The armored men touched by the perverted element fell to the blood moistened earth, never to rise again. With the way clear, Buffy received her first glimpse of the Judge in all of his deadly glory, wielding a great sword that was as large as Buffy herself.
She watched as man after man charged the beast and found death. Men with families, men with futures, all found horrible deaths awaiting them as their bodies' were smashed upon the anvil that was the Judge. The luckiest died the quick death of a cloven skull or a punctured chest; the unlucky souls felt the mortal touch of the Judge and were burned away from the inside, their humanity taken from them.
Buffy tried to charge the beast and stop the battle, but her feet remained firmly entrenched in the red mud that surrounded her. All of her effort only made her sink further into the macabre mire. Her eyes followed the fight while she struggled and sank. A glimpse of light through the press of soldiers revealed to Buffy a familiar figure. Xander strode through the army to stand before the beast. His head remained raised proudly, even though his arms remained locked at his side. Buffy screamed as he calmly watched the gigantic sword rise above his head and arc downward.
Another flash of light blotted out the grisly sight of the piles of corpses surrounding the terrible might of the Judge. She found herself once again lying on the couch, her arm wrapped around Xander's shoulders and pulling him against her chest.
Buffy was desperately trying to understand what she had just witnessed, when Xander tensed suddenly and gasped in shock. Buffy pulled his head away from her chest when she felt his breath catch on the material of her shirt.
His eyes were wild and frantic, wide open and shifting around quickly. He searched the room without recognition for a brief second, until his gaze focused on Buffy. His frenzied gaze held hers, staring deeply into her eyes and, as it felt to her, into her soul.
His eyes were unlike anything she had seen from him. Actually, she admitted, they were all too similar to the feral gaze that was leveled at her by her friend when he was possessed by the hyena, but she also found his gaze profoundly different. Before, his eyes spoke of base emotions and carnal wants, the pure conscienceless state of a beast; now, his gaze held the wild look of a wounded animal, constantly searching for and perceiving danger, unable to allow a kind hand to caress for fear of the slap.
Buffy shivered and wanted to break the connection; the sheer intensity of the moment was unsettling and left her feeling exposed, but she also felt the sanctity of the moment. She could feel him finding himself through her, through her friendship.
It was Xander who finally broke the connection, forcibly moving his gaze to the side, before his head fell and his conscious mind discovered the horror that his subconscious did not want to share. To his horror, he watched as the men died, but the serenity that he felt from himself in the vision did not correspond with the feeling of doom that seemed to grow stronger as he approached. The feeling only grew stronger as he watched the Judge grow closer until he was in front of the beast and the massive sword was raised above his head and crashed down toward him.
Buffy moved closer to hold him, when she was startled by his sudden lunge toward her. His arms wrapped themselves securely around her, clutching at her shoulder blades, and his head fell to her shoulder burying itself into the safety of her soft flesh and fragrant blonde hair.
Xander tried to focus on the comforting touch of his friend, tried to assure himself that he was still alive, but the vision was so real. The vision in his head only intensified as he replayed every second of his death. Each time it was the same outcome, but the details seemed to become clearer and the feelings more intense. The sound of the blade as it sliced through the air, the groans of the dying and the grunts of those still fighting, filled his ears, but the most unnerving sensation was the detached calm he felt as it was all happening.
"Xander, don't let it beat you Xander," Buffy pleaded, feeling confused and lost as his emotions traveled through her. "Xander, find your way back Xander. Xander."
He heard his name being called, but it sounded like it was coming from more than one direction at a time. He tried to focus on the voice; it sounded like Buffy's voice, but it did not seem like her. Her voice echoed inside and outside of the vision, but the echo was not the same, like there were two different voices, one voice was close, and soft, pleading, but encouraging. The other scream tore at his heart, compelling him to find it and help, but it seemed to be coming from far away. He tried to focus on the scream, and found the vision growing more focused and the outside world bleed away. For a brief moment he saw golden hair in the distance, and the scream reached him with total clarity, and the vision stopped.
"Please don't leave me, we need you," Buffy whispered. "Okay, I need you. I can't do this without you; I don't know if I can face him without you there. Please look a…"
Buffy's soft words were interrupted by a gasp when Xander's head snapped up, and he looked at her with clear eyes.
"I don't know what just happened, but I know that it scares me," he said with an even tone, while trying to maintain a steady voice.
"Oh God, I thought you had decided to check out of the sanity hotel for good on me," Buffy said, trying to mask her raw emotions with a glib response.
"I am here for you, just like you were there for me," he responded, his eyes holding hers and conveying his thanks clearly.
"Xand, did we really share a vision?"
"I think so. Maybe all of the energy coming from the Judge affected us more than we thought. I don't know if I can really talk about what happened yet, at least not the finale."
"Xand, it's okay. I'm here. If there's one person who knows what it feels like to die, it's me. Actually, it's kind of comforting to know I'm not alone; hey, maybe we can start a club."
"Yeah, we can have meetings and everything. I call treasurer," he joked.
His smile faded quickly to be replaced by the intensity of before, "Buffy, I don't know if I could have made it out of that without you."
"I guess that makes us even. Although I don't know if it's smart to be keeping score when we're about to face a demon that needed a whole army to beat it."
"Yeah, where's an army when you need one?"
The two friends laughed and hugged each other closely, feeling close to one another beyond the physical touching. They had shared in a type of honest and vulnerable moment that bonds two souls together.
Xander had to admit that it felt good to laugh as well, "I could see it now," he thought to himself. "The army shows up and tries to fight the judge like some sort of Japanese monster film, with all of the tanks, the guns, and the rocket launchers. Tanks…guns…rocket launchers!"
"Oh my god!" Xander exclaimed pulling away from his surprised friend.
"What! What happened!" Buffy asked, worried that he was having a relapse; she did not think that she could handle another episode right now.
"I think I'm getting an idea," Xander explained, and then sat immobile with a look of extreme concentration on his face. After five seconds of silence a large, slightly maniacal smile stretched his lips. "Oh yeah, that is definitely an idea. I would almost say it is a great idea, but then again all of my ideas are great when they're still in my head. The trick is getting in. I'll need a truck, or a van… Oz's van. I'll need a distraction, an explosion! No, that will tip them off. Maybe go over the fence? No, probably monitored. I got it, the perfect distraction!"
"Xander!" Buffy interrupted, clearly lost in the unidentifiable babble. "What is your idea, why a van, what is this about a fence, where is the explosion, what the heck is your plan?"
"I can't tell you; you can't afford to get caught. We have to figure out where the judge is going to be, and we have to do it fast. I'm going to need time to get into character."
* * *
"Before we start the meeting, I think I should make an announcement," Jenny Calendar said at the large table surrounded by the rest of the gang. "I owe all of you an apology. I'm not Jenny Calendar, well, I am, but not really, and I'm not a computer science teacher, well, I guess I am that too."
Jenny inhaled deeply and clenched her fists digging her nails deeply into her palms, before speaking again. "Let me start over. I'm not here just to teach computer science, I was sent by my people to watch the vampire known as Angelus, to tend to his curse and see that it was never broken. I was sent to make sure that he maintained his eternal penance and suffer unquenchable guilt. You see, a moment of pure happiness would end the curse devised by my people, and now I'm afraid that my mistake will cost all of you."
The table sat in silence; unable or unwilling to comprehend the information that had crashed down upon them. The silence was not deafening, but their thoughts certainly were. The idea that they had been betrayed by someone whom they had let into their circle, someone who they saw everyday, and someone who was supposed to be an authority figure. The idea that all of this could have been avoided, if only they had known. The man they were beginning to trust would never have defected and never have hurt Buffy. It seemed that at that moment the rest of the table realized the implications that Jenny's confession had on the young woman seated at that very table, as all eyes turned to her.
The slayer slowly stood up and turned toward the teacher and growled out her command, "Get out!"
It was a simple phrase, but it rolled from deep in her chest like thunder and left no one present in the dark about her current attitude toward one Jenny Calendar. Or whatever her name was.
"I know you're upset, but I want to help. I know about Angelus," Jenny pleaded to the assembly. "I know how he works. I can help you stop him. I can help you put an end to his evil. Please, don't shut me out."
Her soft eyes met Giles, seeking some form of comfort, but only found hard unemotional eyes glaring back, and a listless response, "You heard her, get out."
The others watched as Jenny slowly turned and walked out of the library, her stride unwavering as she put on a show of confidence. The group flinched slightly when the double door clapped together after her passing. After a few more seconds, Buffy cleared her throat and addressed the remaining group.
"Forget about her, we've got a demon to stop," Buffy stated, meeting everyone's gaze to ensure that they understood the gravity of the situation. Only after everyone nodded their agreement did she proceed, "Xander, I hope you didn't need Ms. Calendar for this plan of yours."
"No, there won't be any change, but I'm going to need just about everyone else for it to work."
"Wait! Xander is the one with the plan?" Cordelia exclaimed. "Anyone else feeling less than happy about this? I mean, we are talking about the same guy who wore Velcro shoes till he was eight because he couldn't figure out how to keep his shoes tied."
"So I guess you have a plan?" patronized Xander in a much harsher tone than intended. He was far beyond nervous about his plan. The idea that the lives of his friends were placed securely in his hands was nerve wracking, and, sadly, he was taking it out on Cordelia. "Or were you just going to hope that the Judge chokes and dies on all of that perfume you're wearing?"
Cordelia slumped in her chair and glared at him, not wanting to let him know how much his words had stung. She did not want to admit to herself that she had put on the extra perfume to catch his attention, and she definitely did not want to admit that to him.
Xander felt like the biggest jerk in the world. He could feel the disappointment and rejection seeping out of Cordelia despite her heavy emotional barriers. Her emotions did not flow like it did from other people, her emotional barrier felt like scars covering old wounds; thick and gnarled. He wondered what could have caused such a self-confident girl to carry such barriers and could not help feeling responsible for some of the emotional wounds that had caused the scarring. He wanted to apologize, but he knew that he could not do it in front of everyone. She would only get defensive and lash out at him to show that he did not have the power to hurt her, so was left to swallow his regret and move forward.
"For the plan to work, we need know where the Judge is going to be, and I really have no clue where that is," Xander said sheepishly. "So I'd appreciate it if somebody would jump in with some help on that."
"Well, some of the accounts that we have read of the battle describe a power binding ritual that kept the Judge from taking new souls, which allowed the survivors to wear down the demon and destroy it." Giles declared, standing up and speaking in the rhythmic inflection that normally accompanied his historical lectures. "The effects would have worn away long ago, but it is safe to assume that the Judge would need to regain his lost energy. The best way to do so would be to find a large group of life energy in one place."
"So, they'll be hitting the Bronze," stated Buffy; she had already assumed the destination. It was just the way things happened, like the butler always doing it or the secret agent always getting a girl, it just was.
"Small problem, the Bronze is closed tonight. Somebody smashed up the place last night after we left," supplied Willow. "So they decided to start the annual fumigation early while the new tables and stuff come in."
Cordelia stared at Xander from across the table. She had a good idea what had caused the damage at the Bronze despite the story that he had given her. It had seemed too coincidental for it to be true, and after watching him in action at the factory, she realized that too many things about the enigmatic young man were a coincidence. She watched the young man turn to her and give her a questioning look and a goofy grin in response to her scrutiny, but she was not fooled, there was more to the boy in front of her than he was letting on. She wondered why nobody else seemed to be saying anything about it. Why was she the only one who could see past Clark Kent?
"So, no Bronze?" asked Buffy, not hiding the disappointment in her tone, and not really wanting to. "Where else are we going to find a bunch of people? What else is there to do in this town?"
Oz raised his hand slightly above his head and called for everyone's attention. "Uh, guys? I know where I would go if there was nothing else to do on a Friday night."
* * *
The Sunnydale Mall was alive with the life's blood of capitalism as people of every age wandered from storefront to storefront, searching through the variety of designer clothing and discount appliances placed in one convenient location. Families and couples traversed the maze of dead end alleyways and circular paths, avoiding kiosks and indigent teenagers, who slurped down carbonated drinks and remained surprisingly sedentary considering the explosive combination of caffeine and hormones coursing through their veins.
The mall had two levels. The top level was a large track that surrounded an open area overlooking the ground floor. Two sets of stairs lead up to the top floor and the main entrance, creating a triangle with the large glass double doors at the apex.
Buffy and Giles watched the main entrance from behind a mall kiosk on the ground floor, waiting impatiently. They were waiting for the rest of the gang to show up carrying phase two of their suicidal plan. However, if they were honest with themselves, they were also waiting for Angel and Spike to show up with the Judge, ready to steal their energy and that of the rest of the innocents that milled about them.
Xander was very tight lipped about phase two of the plan. When questioned, he explained that the phrase 'no weapon forged' didn't apply to today's firepower. After that, he promised Buffy enough firepower to do the job, but he avoided expounding on the details. Then when questioned further, he only muttered something about plausible deniability. When the interrogation did not stop, he quickly exited along with Willow, Oz, and Cordelia, who could be heard down the hall complaining that her boots were stylish and not slutty.
Buffy quietly admitted to herself that she did not feel entirely comfortable trusting Xander with the fate of the world, and she had the feeling that Giles was thinking the same thing. She turned and looked over at her watcher, but found that he was doing just as his title dictated, he was watching her closely. It was then that she realized that Giles was also feeling uncomfortable about her own role in tonight.
She really could not blame him for his doubts. The last fight between the two star-crossed lovers was a total non-issue. She could barely find the focus to stand, let alone, fight Angel, and now she was supposed to destroy him. His soul was gone and he was just another vampire, just another demon, whose life was meant to end at the end of her stake.
Could she really drive the stake through her love's heart, through her own? she asked herself. Her answer gave her little comfort; she could already feel a portion of the pain she knew she was ordained to inflict upon herself, and it was tightening around her chest, making her breath come shallower and her head swim. She was not sure she could stand up to the mind numbing and heart shattering pain that she awaited.
While she contemplated her predetermined despair, the other four of the group entered. They were carrying what she assumed was a heavy object, judging by the fact that Xander was carrying it with two hands, wrapped in a plastic bag from the GAP.
"I'm happy to report that phase two worked better than I thought it would," declared Xander when he stopped in front of Buffy. "Although I was pretty sure we were going to be caught ever since I said the words, 'I have a plan.'"
"Well, I'm glad to know that your pessimism was duly rewarded," stated Giles, looking at the bag skeptically. The watcher had a black duffel bag slung over his shoulder, carrying what everyone assumed was some sort of weapon. "Is someone going to tell us what exactly phase two was?"
"Well, promise you won't get mad." Willow said from beside Xander.
"A word of warning, never begin a sentence with such a disconcerting phrase."
"Just tell him, Wills," Xander said under his breath.
"But he didn't promise," responded Willow.
"Oh please, we stole a missile launcher from the army base," Cordelia blurted out, obviously annoyed by the delay. "Xander's stupid plan was to take me into an army base with some stupid story about wanting to have sex in the armory. So we got in and passed a missile launcher out the window to Willow and Oz."
"So why the bag?" asked Buffy.
"Oz figured it would be too conspicuous to walk into a mall with a box labeled property of the United States Army," gushed Willow, "so we grabbed one outside before we came in."
"So I guess we have to just wait and hope that the bad guys actually show up," Buffy said.
No more than two seconds after the words had left her mouth, the doors to the mall opened and several darkly dressed people walked through proceeded by a seven foot tall blue skinned man wearing chain mail. Angelus walked beside the behemoth and Drusilla took up the other side, this time not accompanied by Spike in his wheelchair.
"Some day you are going to have to tell me how you do that," Xander said as he riffled through the bag and the case pulling out clumps of straw before he pulled out the missile launcher. A few sequenced movements later and he was holding an armed anti-tank weapon.
"Happy birthday Buff, I hope you like the color."
The vampires quickly spread out to herd the human cattle toward the slaughter while the first rumblings of danger started moving through the crowd. The Judge reached out and grabbed a passing man by the neck and began to try and take his life force. His female companion tried to pull him away, but she received the other hand around her neck for her efforts. The man and woman let out a strangled grown before blue lightning shot out and attached to two more innocent bystanders and then two more from them.
Angelus' hand shot out in front of the Judge and caught a crossbow bolt aimed at the demon's neck. The vampire collided with the demon's arm and the current of life energy was broken, leaving those who were caught in it to fall limp to the tile floor. The Judge thrust out his hands launching the limp bodies held in them away from him and crashing into a group of bystanders frozen by fear.
The Judge looked down past the bolt still held in front of him to see Giles holding a crossbow loosely in his hands, calmly staring at the blue behemoth.
"You fools, no weapon forged can harm me," the Demon intoned in his deep rumbling voice.
"Quite right, but I believe she has something to say about that," he said with a jerk of his head to the side toward a mall kiosk, which Buffy stepped out of aiming the launcher quickly.
"That was then, this is now."
Buffy rocked back on her heals from the opposing force as the missile shot out of the green cylinder flying at the Judge's broad chest. Drusilla and Angel shared a worried look before leaping off the landing and away from the missile's target. The Judge was far more confused than concerned and so he made no move to avoid the projectile, which proved to be his undoing as the explosive impacted with its concussive force.
The area where the Judge once stood was consumed with black smoke, concealing the Judge and leaving everyone to wonder if the attack had been successful. The acrid smoke slowly dispersed and wafted toward the mall's ceiling, triggering the sprinkler system. Water rained down from the metal nozzles around the mall, quickly soaking the shoppers and causing the black smoke to dissipate and reveal a large collection of broken demon parts, blackened but not incinerated. The Judge had broken apart like a clay statue.
Buffy watched the minion vampires carry an unconscious Drusilla out the glass doors, quickly slinking away with their tails between their legs, but she did not see Angel anywhere.
"Pick up the pieces, but keep them separate," Buffy ordered, rubbing her shirt along the metal launcher before dropping it and pulling out a stake. She surveyed the surrounding area and spotted the shadow of Angel's coat disappear around a corner, and she quickly gave chase.
"Great, pieces, we help stop a deadly demon and all we get for this are pieces," Cordelia complained as she climbed the stairs.
"Yes, quite astute, but such is the life of a watcher, I dare say you'll get used to it" Giles remarked as he followed, putting the crossbow back into his duffel bag.
"Gross! Keep your predictions to yourself. I can almost feel you dressing me in tweed with your eyes."
Xander followed the two, barely paying attention to anything around him; he was too pleased with himself and too relieved that the Judge was destroyed. He could not feel the demon's presence anymore; he figured that the intense heat must have burned some small pieces away and destroyed any chance of the demon being reborn. Truthfully, he was looking forward to getting a good night sleep without the demon's aura disturbing him.
He watched Willow and Oz work together, picking up charred remains and putting them in the large gap bag; he could already see the burgeoning romance developing between them. He watched the telltale way that they shied away from each other when their hands touched when reaching for the same pieces or the coy smiles that they shared after the brief contact. He could not figure out if he was happy for them or jealous of what they had found. He figured it was probably somewhere in the middle. He contemplated helping them, but he doubted his ability to censor all of the snide, protective comments he wanted to send toward Willow's new beau.
He was about to bend down and join the salvage, when he noticed finally Buffy's absence. He shook his head, throwing off his previous thoughts and searched all around him. He scoured the mall with his eyes, but couldn't find a trace, until he spotted a humanoid shadow moving back and forth along the wall, leading to another part of the mall.
Without a word, Xander slipped away from the group and circled around the second floor, trying to see what was causing the strange movement of the shadow. His question was quickly answered when a smaller shadow came into view and moved in concert with the other shadow, kicking in an all too familiar style.
The Buffy shadow connected with a kick, but the larger shadow accepted the attack on its shoulder and closed in for a grapple, intermingling the shadow and obscuring Xander's view of the action before disappearing completely. The young man sprang forward and sprinted around the circular walkway that constituted the mall's second floor. When he finally caught sight of the fight, Buffy was pinned against the wall with Angel moving in for a deadly kiss.
The stairs connecting the two floors ran directly toward the deadly embrace, but the distance was too far for Xander to reach the scene in time. A quick glimmer of an idea flashed through his head, giving him barely enough time to fully understand the repercussions, but long enough to change his trajectory slightly as he ran toward the stairs.
"Buffy!" he shouted, as he grabbed a metal stand holding a makeup advertisement and a poster for a newly released movie.
Two more steps placed him within range of the stairs and that was when he threw the metal stand at the handrail. The bottom of the stand was a wide rectangle for stability, and it collided with the brass handrail and bounced back slightly, causing the stand to balance precariously on the rail.
Xander leap toward the stair as the metal display teetered on the railing and landed on it with his feet planted on either end of the metal frame, effectively straddling the handrail. His forward momentum started the ill-advised ride downward. With knees bent, he shifted his weight quickly side-to-side to stay balanced and not break his neck trying to perform such a foolish stunt.
The high pitched shriek of metal scraping against metal caught the attention of everyone left in the mall, and more importantly interrupted Angel from taking a bite out of Buffy's neck. The slayer took full advantage of the distraction and connected with a hard knee between Angel's legs and pushed him away.
Angel staggered back as Xander's wailing journey carried him toward the first floor at a speed far greater than he anticipated. The handrail leveled out on the ground floor and then abruptly ended, leaving an absence of track for the improvised roller coaster and sending Xander flying into space. The metal stand hit the tile floor and skipped for a few feet, bucking the young man and sending him tumbling forward to collide solidly with the already stunned vampire.
Xander's back crashed into Angel's face, but did little to stop the young man's momentum, which carried him clear over the vampire, who was knocked to the tile floor, to land on his back and shoulder three feet further. The impact drove the air from his lungs and left him gasping for a breath that continued to elude him.
Buffy watched in confusion at the sudden turn of events as Angel groaned and writhed in pain. She retrieved her stake from where she had dropped it during the fight and carefully approached Angel, who had managed to rock himself up to his knees. She prepared to plunge the wood into his dead, black heart, but her resolve crumbled when she saw his eyes look up at her imploringly. She could not bring herself to do it; her fear had come true.
Angel smiled in triumph. His victory was assured. "You can't do it; you can't kill me."
His smile did not last long when Buffy's size-six shoe broke his jaw and knocked him unconscious. "Just give me time."
"Next time, I'm using the escalator," Xander moaned as he put his back against the wall and let his head loll to the side.
Buffy stepped over the prone vampire and walked over to her friend.
"I guess this is why we don't keep track of who saved who, huh?" she asked, looking down at him with a smile. Xander swallowed a groan as she grabbed his hand and pulled him to his feet and let him lean on her as they walked off.
"Actually, my back's telling me that I'm probably going to want credit for this one."
"Sorry, you can't just go and change the rules in the middle of the game." Buffy said as they started up the stairs.
"Hey, before today you were totally keeping track, so don't give me any 'middle of the game' stuff," he huffed out haltingly as the pain in his shoulder spiked with each step up and increased pressure from Buffy's grasp.
"How about I give you a thank you and we call it even?"
"As nice as that is to hear," Xander said rhetorically, "why don't you throw in a back rub and we'll call it a deal."
Buffy briefly looked back at the albatross that would continue to swing from her neck until she could bring herself to finish the fight that they had started. "Maybe. Let's talk after you feel well enough to walk up the stairs under your own power."
Xander watched her look back and saw the sad look in her eyes, and recognized the forced lightness in her tone as she picked up the flirting game. He wanted to go down there and kill the bastard, he wanted to tell her not to do him any favors, but most of all he wanted to believe her. He sighed when he realized that he could not do any of those things.
* * *
End of Chapter 11