I had a brain freeze as to what to do with this story. Before I even posted it I had over six parts written, including this one, and I was so damn cocky that I took my time and posted the parts with no real pattern included.

Now? Now I've had the sense knocked into me and am getting a beta to make the rest of the story as good as it can be. So starting with Part Seven this will be a beta'd, and hopefully better, fic.

Silence was stretched to the limits, the direness of the situation taking on a profound tone in the group of people standing in the library. Angel was running his hand through his hair, trying to keep his cool and trying to be the reasonable one while Cordelia was the exact opposite. Hands on her hips, her jaw firmed and foot tapping impatiently, she stood close to Angel, as if his simple presence was assuring. Assuring for what, only she new.

Having enough of the silence, Angel cleared his throat and took a step forward, bringing attention to himself.

"The Master, or Darla...one of them must've known," Angel said softly, his eyes immediately meeting with Cordelia's, a silent concern flooding from him to her. "If they even thought you were going to skip town they were going to do something. Either they took Xander on impulse or knew that you were leaving for sure."

"Well, if they took Xander to get me to come to them, then their plan worked," Cordelia said, her voice firm and assuring. "I say we go get him. Right now."

Giles shook his head, "If we rush into this, the chance of Xander's life ending is far greater. We can't risk it."

"Tomorrow then," Cordelia said immediately after her Watcher spoke, not giving him a chance to delay what she wanted to do any further. Xander was in danger because of her and she was going to make sure he was safe and the person who took him was dead. "Saturday. The weekend. Lots of free time on our hands to do something this big."

Angel didn't argue with her, noting the firmness in her voice and the look in her eyes as she spoke. She wasn't going to have her mind changed. Whether she, or anyone else, liked it or not, tomorrow was going to come and go. It was just a matter of who would live to tell the tale. "I'll be with you whenever you decide to go in."

Doing my job and making sure you don't fulfill the prophecy, was the unspoken words that shone brilliantly in his dark eyes as he looked into Cordelia's.

Cordelia nodded her agreement and for a moment, her eyes flickered an emotion she hadn't conveyed for Angel ever before: gratitude. "Giles, you should provide some sort of magical backup for us. And Willow..."

"I'll help in any way I can."

"What I want is for you to go home and stay there," Cordelia said to her friend, crashing the girl's hopes of helping out, of attempting to save Xander herself.

Willow looked far from understanding. In fact, she looked taken aback. "You can't expect me to hide when Xander's in trouble. He's my best friend."

"I don't wanna risk you getting hurt," Cordelia explained.

"Well, I don't want to be left out of something that I should be apart of," Willow crossed her arms over her chest and looked at Cordelia without blinking. "I can help."

Willow rolled her eyes as Cordelia nailed the last cross beside her windowsill. "I still can't believe you're keeping me here instead of out there, helping you."

"Better believe it, hun." Cordelia offered a smile, but Willow didn't budge. After a moment, Cordelia's face scrunched up as if she'd just gotten a bad taste in her mouth. "God. I'm being such a 'mom' aren't I? Overprotective. Sure is over the top."

Willow didn't find the humor in the situation; neither did Cordelia who only offered a fake laugh to break the ice.

"I don't want him to get hurt any less then you do, Will. But more importantly, I don't want you to get hurt either."

"Why not?" Willow asked bluntly. "I mean, why won't you get that I probably won't get hurt. And even if I do, it won't even be close to what'll happen to you!"

A long silence followed after she spoke, Cordelia quietly clearing her throat and looking away, trying to act like nothing happened. Willow immediately realized what she said. "Sorry. I didn't...I didn't mean it like that."

"It's alright," Cordelia assured her, still not looking her way. Only because she couldn't really stand looking Willow in the eyes at the moment. With the exception of when she told her what was going on, Cordelia hadn't really spent some alone time with Willow while discussing what was going to happen to her when she confronted the Master.

She was beginning to take on that role of not only her best friend but her sister. She felt like she had to protect her yet at the same time Willow hated the fact that Cordelia didn't think she could handle herself.

It all evens out, right? Cordelia tried to assure herself. But sadly, not even the voice inside of Cordelia's head could make her feel any better.

"Do you play anything?" Cordelia finally broke the silence, offering a stiff smile and turning around to face Willow as she clapped her hands together.

"What?"

"An instrument. Do you play any instruments? Or are you just into computers?" Cordelia was no longer in control of her mouth. Sure, she knew what she was doing and the emptiness inside of her head was gone now and filled with stupid questions. Yet they came out even dumber when she spoke them out loud. It didn't help when Willow started to look at her as if she were crazy.

"Why are you asking me?"

Cordelia threw her hands up in the air exasperatingly, "I don't know! I just...we've been friends for what? A month, maybe a little longer. It just doesn't seem like I know a lot about you."

"I played the flute in sixth grade, but then by eighth I learned that I sucked."

"You still have it?"

Willow nodded, jumping off her bed and opening her closet doors. After a minute of scourging through random junk she pulled out a flute case. "I actually went to band camp too."

"Really?"

Willow's face fell, "It's dumb, I know."

"No, it's not!" Cordelia motioned to take the case from her as she continued to speak. "I had my own 'band years' back in elementary school and a year or two in middle school."

"What'd you play?"

Cordelia hesitated before clearing her throat, opening the case. "Wow, extremely well-polished. I'm sure your band teacher would be proud!"

"Seriously, what'd you play?"

"Um...the trombone..." Cordelia mumbled the last part as quietly as she could manage, deepening her voice so that it was even harder to hear.

"What?"

"The..." Cordelia smiled pathetically. "The trombone."

"That's not so bad," Willow assured her, the muscle at the corner of her lips usually used to make a smile twitching and begging to serve its purpose as she took the flute from Cordelia for some excuse to turn around. When her back was to Cordelia she grinned like a fool.

Before Cordelia could think anything of it, Willow wiped the smile from her face and turned back around, the 'appropriate' question that had been lingering in her mind since they'd started rambling on about band slipping through her lips. "Are you avoiding talking about what's going to happen tomorrow?"

Cordelia swallowed hard and looked down at her hands for a moment. Finally, she looked up not with a teary eyes look but with one of pathetic admittance. "Yeah. I guess you can say that."

The throbbing pain in his head and the taste of blood and dirt on the tip of his tongue woke Xander from his painful, dreamless slumber. He blinked his eyes open to reveal the orange glow of fire lighting up the cave-like room he was chained up in. One move and a searing pain reached every inch of Xander's body. Even when his finger twitched slightly he felt as if he was wiping out on his skateboard.

Grunting, Xander managed to move his eyes, which were hurting just as much as the rest of his body, and focus on the only other person in the room. An attractive blonde. For a moment he thought it was Buffy but thought better of that and realized it was a complete stranger.

It was Darla. Even if Xander didn't know who she was, her presence was easily just as unsettling as it would be if he did know who she was. When she approached him, he struggled to push himself through the dirt, farther and farther away from her, but his movements were restricted by pain and by the chains that were connected to the wall.

She offered him a gold goblet, actuating the dark, thick liquid within it.

"The one thing I learned from my parents..." Xander managed to speak, his throat scratchy and his voice hoarse. "Was to never accept gifts from strangers."

Darla didn't listen however, her right hand grabbing his head and forcing his mouth to open, her fingernails digging into his skin like claws. She poured the liquid into his unwilling mouth and watched in delight as he choked in disgust.

It wasn't a surprise that he would have a near panic attack in reaction to the blood she had just poured into his mouth, and Darla seemed all the more pleased as she watched him try and spit every last drop of it out of his mouth.

"It's warm, flowing human blood that was taken from delicious little children," Darla explained in her sultry, feminine voice. "They were close enough to the sewer entrance for me to grab them."

She let out a small laugh at his disgust, "Soon you'll want nothing but the blood of children. To feel that sticky, flowing warm liquid seep into your mouth and caress the roof of your mouth...you'll become as addicted to it as I am."

The blood's thickness preventing him from speaking clearly, Xander merely shook his head emphatically.

"Tell me something. Does the Slayer care for you as much as I think she does?"

Xander remained silent, the image of Cordelia etching into his mind and causing his heart to ache at the thought of him being so stupid as it to get himself captured. Now she had two things to worry about when she deserved to have no worry at all. The way Darla spoke of her, her voice filled with revolting judgment at the word 'Slayer', established the flaxen-haired vampire's disdain for Cordelia and made Xander's hands tremble far more then they had been in result of the pain he was in.

Obviously a sparkle in his eyes and the continuing silence he gave as an answer was enough for Darla to confirm that he indeed cared for her as she did for him.

"Well, then it'll be quite delightful to see her squirm at the sight of you dead."

Cordelia swallowed the last piece of chocolate. "Mmhhmm, good. Very very good."

"Thanks, but no more. That's as much of my stash as I can give away," Willow slid the box under the floorboard and closed it.

"You know what's cool about you? The fact that your 'stash'," Cordelia licked a small drop of chocolate from the tip of her finger as she spoke, implying the air quotes. "Is chocolate and candy."

"What else would it be?"

Cordelia looked at Willow incredulously for a moment, but recovered nicely and shrugged it off. "Tomorrow's the dance..."

"Yeah, I never go. I might not even go to the Prom when I'm a senior."

"Why not?"

Willow sighed and stood up, walking over to her door and opening it, making sure that no one was in the hall listening. When it was closed again she turned and faced Cordelia, her cheeks more than usually red. "I only want to go with the right guy. And I guess I just haven't found that perfect guy yet."

Cordelia just nodded, not really having anything to say in response.

"How about you?"

"Nah," Cordelia immediately responded, balling the candy wrapper and tossing it directly into the trashcan. "I have bigger things on my mind then boys. Not that I don't think about them. I just...the dance for me is a big problem."

"Why?"

"My dad got me this gorgeous dress," Cordelia admitted, looking out the window, realizing it was getting late and deep down wishing that Angel's head would be poking inside, for him to be there and just to...say things and...well, be there for her. "But with all that's going on. I don't know what to say to him when I'm going to leave the house tomorrow and not be in my dress."

"Then don't."

"Huh?"

"I say you just go in your dress, change when you get to the library."

Cordelia shook her head, amused by the mere thought of Angel picking her up in a beautiful dress and feeling confused as to why she's looking so pretty for going to school and preparing to die.

"Just do it. If it's as pretty as you say it is, then you should at least wear it once." Willow seemed pretty sure about her suggestion, even if it was obviously a weird one.

Cordelia, however, remained hesitant.

Exhausted, Cordelia tried to hold back a yawn for when she would get in bed, then she planned on yawning all night long. For her last night of sleep she was planning on sleeping comfortably and all night long. No stupid dreams or midnight visits from Angel. Hopefully.

"Cordelia," came her father's voice. He walked over to her, offering a small smile. "Tomorrow, are you going to take a limo? Because I can drive you. My first AA meeting isn't until Sunday."

"Um...I'm getting picked up."

"Okay then."

"You're..." Cordelia stopped her father when he turned to go back to his own room. "You're going to an AA meeting?"

"I told you I was going to get better," he said to her softly, as if reassuring her that there were still cookies in the cookie jar downstairs. "These meetings are a good thing, right?"

"Of course," Cordelia replied, the territory of discussing AA meetings with her father still quite new to her. "I mean, obviously it is...I just...about tomorrow, dad."

For a moment, quicker at disappearing than appearing, her father looked worried. About what, Cordelia didn't quite know. Maybe he was worried that her date had dumped her the day before the dance or something. Hopefully it was simply a fatherly worry.

The look in his eyes assured her that no matter how concerned he was with her going to a dance, with a boy, or in Angel's case, a man, there was still that glimmer of respect he held for her that proved he was proud of his daughter like no other.

And when she saw that flicker, that emotion mingling with his high opinion of her, Cordelia hesitated to tell him what she thought she would have an easy time saying. Instead, what came out of her mouth wasn't exactly what she imagined. "My date. His name's Angel and he's real sweet."

Will Chase gave his daughter a look that said clearly: 'And?'

"I just don't want you to give him a rough time when he comes to pick me up, alright?" God, what's wrong with me, I must be psycho to think that I'm wearing that dress when I fight the Master.

Drumming her fingers on the desk, distractedly creating a pace and beat that typified her impatience and reluctance to be where she was, Willow bit her bottom lip as she lifted her other hand to the keyboard, typing absently, hoping for some random word to stand out to her and distract her long enough.

Restiveness filling her from head to toe, she cleared her throat, run a hand through her hair and brushed some of it behind one ear before she returned to typing what she was thinking, what she felt, what she wanted in life...none of it was working, though.

It was Saturday afternoon, the sun was setting and all of Willow's windows and doors were shut and locked and surrounded by holy water and crosses. There was one around her neck too as she spun around every two minutes like clockwork to look outside.

Just double-checking, she told herself, as if she were assuring a crazy person of her actions so they wouldn't do anything drastic. Nope, no vampires on my roof.

As the moments passed Willow became well aware that it wasn't necessarily about helping, about gripping a sword in her hands and charging monsters, decapitating them and spilling their blood, it wasn't about being the first to kick down doors and check if Xander was in there...all she wanted was to know. To know if he was okay, if he was fine or if he happened to be hurt, was he going to be fine later?

"How am I supposed to know if I'm sitting in my room?" Willow asked herself, before laughing out loud and shaking her head shamefully at how pathetic she proved herself to be when she spoke to herself, actually expecting an answer.

She told me to stay put, Willow looked around her room, making a 180 degree turn in her chair, eyeing every last detail of everything in her room, making note of what she owned and what was missing.

The doll she had when she was little was gone, and it only took a microsecond for Willow to remember that when they were ten Xander took his g.i. Joe and shot the head off the doll.

She remembered that day quite well. Sadly, it was possibly the most bittersweet feeling she had ever experienced.

Pushing the library doors open, Jenny walked in as if she was welcome there. She held back a smirk when she saw Giles freeze at the sight of her. It was fun to annoy him, to act as if she despised him, to argue his opinion with hers. Like a more educated version of how third graders tease each other because they like each other.

"This is not the time for small talk," was the first thing he said to her, his voice shaky as he looked around, trying to organize things.

It was then that Jenny realized some of the things he was trying to organize weren't necessarily reading material for students. Watcher's Diaries and ancient texts were out on the tables and scattered on the counter. Something was going down.

"What's going on?"

"You're not going to be staying long enough to discover that, fortunately," Giles replied, and for the first time it wasn't a jab at her. As he moved to her, putting his hand on the small of her back and guiding her towards the exit, he actually seemed genuinely concerned for her safety.

"I want to help," Jenny said, defiantly escaping his grasp and avoiding being pushed out the door. "I can be of more help then you think I can."

Giles shook his head, "This is a fight that-"

"I'm prepared to be included in," Jenny finished for him, offering a wry half-grin as she folded her arms over her chest and looked at him expectantly. "We both know you're not going to be able to stop me."

All Giles had in response was an expression that Jenny found absolutely priceless.

"You look cute when you're speechless," she said to him, that wry grin still on her face as she walked closer to him and took the book barely being held in his hands.

Finally, Giles shook out of it. "D-do you have any books? Any useful ones with spells and enchantments or any sort of information that might be useful against The Master."

"At my apartment I do."

"Could you possibly go there and get them? Time is not our friend," Giles asked her as politely as he could manage.

Jenny nodded, handing him back his book. "I think I'll enjoy tonight."

Cordelia stood as tall as she could, getting the full-length mirror view of her self in the dress that seemed to grow more and more perfect as the seconds passed. She wasn't poor yet she wasn't rich, but the dress was expensive and she felt grateful and guilty at the same time.

The last thing my dad ever gets me is expensive and not even going to be used for its true purpose. Just great.

Running a hand along the front of her dress, smoothing it out as her tongue poked out of the corner of her mouth, Cordelia blinked slowly, hesitantly, as if afraid that when she opened her eyes again she'd be in sweat pants and be preparing for the next day of school.

Not a bad trade off in her mind.

"Cordelia!" came her father's voice, loud enough for her to hear her but with a pinch of excitement and a handful of pride for his daughter. "Your date is here."

Angel, in a tuxedo he actually rented from a store, stood, his hands behind his back and his posture straight, trying to convey the most polite demeanor to Cordelia's father, who stood at the bottom of the stairs, calling his daughter down.

A moment of silence passed before Cordelia's feet appeared, then her fit legs, the hem of her dress, and every last inch of her until she reached the bottom of the stairs. She was beautiful, shapely and her thick brown hair was styled, cascading past her shoulder blades, which were bare and visible in the dress she was wearing with a low back to it.

Every muscle in his body tensed and he fought for control, battled the emotions filling him from head to toe with every bit of willpower remaining in him after so many years. Angel felt his willpower draining away, argued against his obstinacy.

"Angel?" she said as she locked stares with him, surprised that he was her 'date'. The only thing keeping her from being extremely embarrassed at the fact that Angel was her pretend-date was the way he grinned so brightly, so sincerely that it made Cordelia truly believe that his silent heart was beating profoundly at the sight of her.

She was more flattered then she'd ever been in her entire life and at the same time, her legs had gone weak at the sight of Angel in a tux, looking extremely handsome and nervous at the same time.

Will Chase caught onto the surprise in his daughter's voice and the flicker of whatever she was feeling mirrored in her eyes. "He's your date, right?"

A small grin formed on Cordelia's face as she never broke eye contact with Angel, whose smile faltered at her hesitation to answer her father's question. She could see clearly now in his eyes and what she saw made her heart skip a beat. If she blew it, blew their cover of 'going to the dance', he would be seriously disappointed.

Angel unmistakably wasn't the kind of man who dressed up in a tux every day and he wouldn't do so for some silly reason. Again, Cordelia felt that preternatural fervor at the realization that she was far from a silly reason to him.

"Yeah..." she finally answered, the grin on her face growing as her eyes lit up. "Yeah, he is."

Taking in an unneeded breath for a vampire, but one required to calm his surprisingly jittery nerves, Angel stepped forward, actually offering a corsage to her.

For the first time all day, he forgot about what they were really doing, what was inevitably going to occur.

The sight of Cordelia happy and beautiful and dressed up...it changed his mind on what he planned on doing. He'd brought a spare change of clothes and left them in the bushes in a bag. But standing close to Cordelia, touching her hands as he placed the corsage on one, he didn't' know if he wanted the moment to end.

Once the door was closed and both Cordelia and Angel were outside Cordelia's wistful demeanor slowly diminished when she turned to Angel, an accusing glint in her russet eyes.

"How did-" she began to ask incredulously, the embarrassment that lacked within her just moments prior when they first greeted each other now reaching every inch of her body as her cheeks flushed red.

Angel didn't bother to let her finish, politely cutting her off. "Willow told me."

"She did?" Cordelia asked in disbelief as Angel started to walk across the long, towards the sidewalk. Time wasn't their ally at the moment and he seemed to be the only one out of the two who remembered that.

Cordelia seemed far too embarrassed to think of anything other then being picked up by a fake date none other then Angel and letting him see her at her most vulnerable side.

Just another reminder that she's only a teenager. Angel turned to face her, guessing right in assuming that she hadn't moved an inch even after he started to move away, to walk towards where they were supposed to be headed: Cordelia's inevitable doom, that is. As painful as it was for him, he'd rather jump in headfirst with the plan that they had and try to keep Cordelia safe for as long as he could manage then delay it any longer.

Maybe the delay was bothering him because the longer he spent with her, seeing her so beautiful, dressed up and wearing a subtle-scented perfume that drove his senses to the brink, he wanted nothing more than to actually dance with her, to take her to the dance and forget, if only for an hour or two, that tonight was going to be hell for both of them.

Angel held out his hand for her, offering her support while acknowledging the fact that they had to leave before it got too dark at the same time.

Cordelia knew why he was being so impatient and she kept the ruse going that she was embarrassed, somehow managing to keep her cheeks flushed and her mind reeling. Perhaps it wasn't too much of a leap for her to feel flushed, a little weak in the knees at the sight of Angel, offering his hand to her as he stood, illuminated by the faint moonlight, in a tux that made him all the more handsome.

The ruse was growing eerily realistic.

Either she could keep pretending, feigning her abashment and play the part of the giggly, bubbly teenage girl who's being accompanied by a two-hundred plus year old vampire who didn't look too bad in black tie wear or she could play herself, the frightened sixteen-year old young woman who was preparing to walk towards her impending death, to face a vampire that she couldn't beat without dying...

Choices...who needs 'em?

Pulling out a book then slipping it back between the other tomes on her bookshelf was the routine Willow decided to pick up for the night to somehow distract herself, to keep her from thinking. Thinking of what? She didn't know. There were a lot of things that filtered through her head from time to time. Xander. Cordelia. Angel and Cordelia. Xander again. Her as a little kid. Kid Willow playing with Kid Xander was another image that painfully kept floating through her head no matter how hard she tried to dispense of it.

Memories, thoughts, senses as in touches and smells, are burned into a persons mind and sometimes they manage to repress memories. But Willow couldn't seem to manage that. Because no matter how much she wanted to think of nothing, of darkness and more darkness, she knew that when the next day came, no matter of the outcome of what was going down tonight, she would want those memories to lift her spirits. As painful as it was... she was coping with it.

But as a teenager there was one thing she couldn't escape: changing her mind in a matter of seconds. And again, she could hardly fight it as she pushed herself away from her bookcase, forgetting about the books, the distractions and just focusing on what she should be doing instead of what she was.

"Cordelia won't mind if I just...slip out of my room and go help them out," Willow tried to assure herself, grabbing her wool sweater while the other hand gripped the cross around her neck.

"Hopefully..." she added as she turned to open her door. But just as her hand reached for it, the knob started to turn and Willow, out of impulse, took a quick step back, weirded out by it.

Unfortunately, it was her mom. "Mom? I thought...I thought you were out of town."

"I rescheduled. I've been overhauling myself lately and as much fun as work is...I need a break," she explained, walking in without asking for permission, as she always did.

For someone who analyzes my thoughts and choices in life, she sure doesn't know that teenagers, me especially, hate it when parents just waltz into their room.

Apparently, her mother caught something in the way...god Willow didn't even know. Perhaps it was the way she switched her weight from one foot to the next or how she absently tapped her finger at her side. Or, more likely, it was the uncomfortable silence mingling with the death stare she was throwing at her.

Whatever it was, Sheila Rosenberg took it the wrong way and as a sign of... "Is there a boy in the room?"

"No!" Willow immediately exclaimed, trying to move past her mother, trying to leave so that she could escape another unneeded lecture from her mother and get to the school to help Cordelia. She loved her mother but sometimes...it seemed like the times that her parents weren't ignoring her they were scrutinizing her. It was finally starting to grate.

"I don't have a boyfriend either, so there's nothing to worry about." Willow said it to her mother to assure her, but as the words slipped from her mouth, rolled clumsily off her tongue, she too late realized her mistake.

Taking on a concerned look that spoke a thousand words like 'poor girl', her mother placed a hand on her shoulder and held her in place. "I sense bitterness in that tone of yours. Is it that absence in your life of a strong, loving male figure such as a boyfriend that's creating deep tension?"

"There's no tension, mom." Willow said through gritted teeth, trying to remain calm. No one had seen an angry side of her and she wasn't about to unleash it upon her mother. And god, if there was ever a time for my mom to speak with me, it sure is now. Right when I actually have somewhere to go!

Almost punching Angel in the stomach to stop him from walking, Cordelia stopped herself and looked around, her fingers twitching to be wrapped around a stake as her senses picked up something not human approaching them.

At first she thought it was Angel but she knew her senses well enough to know that they would alert her of any danger. Hopefully.

"What's up?" he whispered, leaning in so that only she could hear her and not whatever it was that was creating the soft rustle in the bushes that only a vampire's ears could catch.

Though he knew exactly what was going on he still couldn't fight the urge to ask. Cordelia obviously had a strong connection with her senses, unlike any other Slayer. She could hear things people couldn't, assume an attack by an enemy that hadn't even approached them yet... It was something she should be proud of and Angel began to finally realize that she was far from the point where she would realize just how special she is.

Her hand shot behind his head, gripping his neck and pushing forward in a ducking motion as a blade skimmed her hand, scraping her knuckles painfully.

She growled under her breath as she spun around, her left leg rising just in time to come in rough contact with the vampire who had aimed for Angel's neck with his sword. Falling to the ground, he looked amazed that a woman had knocked him down. Only it last a moment or two before he realized whom exactly Cordelia was.

Unfortunately for Cordelia, a loud rip brought her attention to the fact that, in kicking the damned vampire, she had ripped her dress along her thigh. It ended far enough up her leg to cause Angel, whose eyes immediately locked with her bare legs, to double take.

Because of his distraction he didn't catch on to the vampire rising to his feet and lunging himself at him. Angel fell to the ground as Cordelia, using the frustration she had that her dress was ruined, formed her hands into fist and went to town on the vampire.

Although she realized too late that the vampire wasn't some rookie one, he had balls of steel and wasn't giving in too fast.

Catching one of her hands and twisting it violently in the direction it wasn't made to go in, he grinned a wicked grin as her face contorted in sheer pain and at the sound of her wrist cracking in two.

He punched her once, twice, three times in the face before he was yanked away by Angel, who rose to the occasion and beat him to a pulp before he, after jumping high enough to reach a branch from the tree beside them, thrust the branch into the vampires' chest.

Unwillingly, Cordelia fell into Angel's arms as one hand rose to her lip, which was bleeding and already beginning to swell.

"I'm alright," she lied. Even with her strong powers and her resolute stubbornness to back her up, she still felt the impact of the vampires fists colliding with her face and her eyes were shining with unshed tears. Bringing her other hand to her face, she wiped her eyes and the tears away before Angel could see her showing weakness.

"I'm sorry I let that happen," she whispered to her, not letting go as his body drowned in a wave of emotions. His silent heart remained quiet but he swore to himself that if it were physically possible it'd be exploding out of his chest.

As Cordelia calmed down but Angel remained lost as he heard something that soothed yet overwhelmed him at the same time. Cordelia's heart was beating a simple, beautiful rhythm, like a soft melody that plays as a baby falls slowly asleep.

"Jerk made me ruin my dress," Cordelia chose the route of being angry, of being sarcastic even, instead of the more emotional route where she'd cry in Angel's arms and admit the fear she had for a split-second that she'd die right there at the hands of a stupid, badly dressed vampire instead of the more frightening Master.

But she remained as strong as she could and pushed away from Angel; wiping here lip again to make sure she still wasn't bleeding.

Alas, she still was. Yet this time Angel used the cuff on his jacket to wipe it away, tenderly instead of roughly and quickly. He looked at it for a moment and winced. "Bastard. You'd think a vampire like that would run at the sight of a Slayer."

"He was either a stupid one or a greedy one," Cordelia explained, trying to push herself farther away from Angel, to get rid of the close proximity between the two of them that seemed too warm, too great. Her limbs, however, remained still. "Greedy for money. The Master probably paid him a lot of money to try and take down a Slayer."

"Nah, he wouldn't do something like that."

Cordelia finally snapped back into reality and actually took a step away from Angel, her eyebrows rising in surprise. "Y-...Do you know him personally or something?"

Angel hesitated, his bottom lip twitching nervously as his eyes averted to avoid eye contact. Finally, he saw her hand and the profuse bleeding and took the opportunity. "We should clean that up."

Without waiting or allowing a second to pass, Angel ripped the bottom of his jacket off and wrapped it around her hand. "We'll get to the library and have Giles look at it."

Gripping her jacket tightly, Willow walked through the dark, unlit parking lot. Sunnydale was in clear view yet at the same time far enough away that she began to look over her shoulders every other second to make sure no one was following her. Hopefully if there were someone, they'd be stupid enough to not hide themselves, allowing her to catch sight of them. But on the other hand, Willow reminded herself that some vampires are smart and that they might be following her but in the bushes, in the trees or behind the cars...

Every second that passed amplified her uncertainty on whether or not she made the right choice.

Looking over her shoulder again, Willow took in a deep, albeit shaky, intake of breath to calm her nerves. When it was unsuccessful she twisted her neck back in its proper position so she was looking straight ahead. Only a second too late to prevent her from walking straight into Jenny Calendar.

"Holy Sh-" she caught herself quickly enough to not allow a curse word to escape her lips but the look on Jenny's face was enough to paint the picture of her heart nearly exploding through her chest in a not-so-good way. "Willow? What are you doing here this late?"

Hesitating, Willow looked to the right, then the left, hoping for something to distract her computer teacher. Nothing came and all that was left was an unbeatable, awkward silence just waiting for Willow's attempt to break it.

"What are you doing here?" Willow finally spoke, turning Jenny's question back around to her. "It's a Saturday."

"Look. If you're here for what I think you're here for, then we're both here for the same reason."

Willow's brow furrowed and she looked at Jenny as if the woman were crazy. "Say that again."

"I said..." Jenny stopped, her voice catching in her throat as she caught sight of something. Her eyes, if only for a second before she recovered quickly enough, widened. "I said that there's...um...there's a whole lot of-"

"Vampires behind you," Willow finished, her own voice growing weak as she lifted her hand and pointed behind Jenny.

And they were right. Behind Willow were five vampires and the six others were behind Jenny, steadily approaching.

Only a minute passed before the cocky glares from the vampires were wiped from their 'game faces'. A red convertible car came crashing through one of the groups of vampires and Willow, to her ultimate disgust and relief at the same time, realized it was Buffy Summers. Coming to their rescue.

"Get in!"

Cordelia held back a wince when she lifted her arm up to push the door open, trying to ignore the pain. Angel took care of some of the pain for her and opened the door before she could put herself through any more pain.

Offering a smile, he merely nodded his head inside, motioning for her to go in while his dark eyes sparkled innocently.

"Thank you," said Cordelia, under her breath and quiet enough to rival a mouth skittering across a carpet. She tried herself to offer a smile, to assure Angel that she was thankful for his politeness and physically okay at the same time. Her attempt was unsuccessful and she cursed herself inwardly as she walked inside, with him just inches behind her, not bothering to keep any sense of space between his strong chest and her trembling back.

Cordelia wanted nothing more than to soak her feet in warm water, put some ointment or 'stingy stuff' on her wounds and call it a day; she wanted nothing more than to have the ability to feign that she was okay when she really wasn't. But she didn't have what she wanted and tonight wasn't about what she wanted either. Good or bad, she had to deal with it.

All of a sudden, the doors at the other end of the Sunnydale High School hallway crashed open in an explosion of sparks and wood chips flying in all directions. What emerged from the sudden collapse was a red convertible car that, albeit the scratches and dents on it, was obviously a once good-looking one that the driver was proud of.

"Buffy?" Cordelia and Angel echoed aloud, both entirely surprised that the blonde cheerleader was in fact the driver of the vehicle. The vehicle of which contained not only her but also Jenny Calendar and Willow. "What are you doing here?"

"You don't seriously think you're some sort of actress. Whatever you were hiding from me when we last spoke was something I needed to find out. Was in the parking lot, ready to get out of my car and confront you when I saw a bunch of bumpy-faced freaks and knew that something big was going down."

Taking in a deep breath when she was finished, Buffy looked at Cordelia expectantly, just waiting, without caring or bothering to care about the dozens of vampires trying to get through the mess, for her to accept that she was there and nothing was going to make her go away.

"Two girls who hate each other aligning themselves to save the world?" Cordelia said aloud, more than a little hesitant. She had enough help already, but then again, there was never a limit to how much help she was allowed to accept. "Irony doesn't vacation, I guess."

The next moment they were all in the Library, looking for as many things as they could to barricade the wall.

"Don't block it all the way," Cordelia reminded them as she grabbed a random jacket from a coat hanger before that itself was used to block the doors. She ripped the sleeve off and dampened some of the blood on her limbs. "I still have to get to the Master."

Angel's hand met her waist, his mere touch bringing her attention to him. "We are going to get the Master."

All Cordelia could manage at the moment was a simple nod. When she turned and saw Giles, helplessly trying to offer support yet only furthering his 'out of place' nature by looking around cluelessly with dusty books in his hands.

"Giles," she spoke to him as calmly as she could, trying to ignore the sounds of struggles from Jenny, Angel, Buffy and Willow as they lifted heavy objects in front of the doors, trying to ignore the tears forming in her eyes against her will...she was trying more than any other time in her entire life. "Do what you can. That's all I'm asking. Barricade the door, make sure it stays closed. Buffy can help with that, I guess. And Jenny..."

"I'll be sure to make everyone do what they can."

"Thank you," and this time it wasn't just a thankful gesture, a look, it was a genuine hug. Tight and warm and seemingly unending if the world's safety wasn't threatened.

Cordelia admitted to herself in her thoughts that pulling away from Giles' embrace was something she was surprisingly afraid to do. In his arms, just like her fathers, she felt safer then ever, impassive to the world around her and protected from ill minds and mistakes. Part of what she thought was true, for when she pulled away, she realized something.

"Crap!" was the first thing out of her mouth. She'd forgotten her supplies at home. Her quarrels, her bow, her special, handcrafted stakes... "Everything's in my bag at home."

Angel shrugged, looking out the circular window to see the horde of vampires steadily approaching; taking their time to murder every single person they come across without hesitation. "I guess we'll just have to do it the old-fashioned way. Old-fashioned for me anyway."

"And what way is that?"

"By snapping their necks. Snapping them hard." Angel pushed some of the objects far enough from the door so that they both could slip out fast enough for the doors to be safely barricaded within seconds. "You game?"

"I'm game."

TBC...