A hysterical teenage girl fled down an alley, followed closely by her gaunt man pursuing her. The vampire grinned it closed the distance between them. He'd been hunting all night for a meal and he was . The girl turned a corner only to suddenly come to a stop. Dead end. The vampire began walking towards her, knowing that his prey was trapped. What a pretty young thing she was. A fine meal she'd make. How inviting the nubile flesh of her neck looked. The vampire took a step closer. She backed away, but with a wall meant no escape.

"Wow, finding a Vampire in a dark alleyway at night. Who'd a thunk?"

The Vampire turned away from his meal-to-be to face the owner of the voice and beheld a mysterious figure standing there before him. He was slouched casually against the wall as though waiting for a bus, casually indifferent to the going-ons in the alley up until now. His white suit reflected the pale moonlight, giving his outline an outline both natural and seemingly outer worldly. A white fedora hat tilted at an angle obscured his features to the Vampire and his captive.

"Verily, I say unto you: let her go or you're in for a whuppin'. Actually, scratch that. I'll be serving you a dinner portion of whoopass followed by the 'stake stab to the heart' house special no matter what you do."

The Vampire's brow furrowed at this challenge. The girl took advantage of his distraction and tore off out of the alleyway. The Vampire focused on the mysterious man in white. The stranger came closer and the Vampire snarled upon recognizing the one standing before him.

"Xander Harris...words's gotten out," The Vampire said, recognizing the stranger. "We know about you. The Mayor told us who you were and what you've become. It won't be long before every single Vampire in Sunnydale's looking to get a piece of you. Literally. Think about it. Do you think even the Slayer could survive that long against such a force?"

"Me and Buffy don't speak much these days so you'd have to ask her."

"Ah yes, the Slayer to whom you've given so much and have nothing to show for. How's that Bible quote go? 'For what profit is it to a man if he gains the world yet loses his own soul?' See, only it's like the opposite for you, Xander: You have a 'soul' in the terms of your identity and independence but not much else. But enough talk, have at you," the Vampire declared as it threw a punch at Xander. The white-clad teen was expecting this however and ducked under the blow. The Vampire's momentum carried him past Xander. The nocturnal creature turned around just in time to receive a spinning kick across the face and before it could recover Xander pulled out a stake and jabbed it into the Vampire's heart, dusting it.

Xander sighed, pausing to let the wave of adrenaline wash over him. He looked about him. He was standing in a dark alley, alone, after saving a girl from a vampire. Xander pocketed the stake and began walking. It would be dawn soon and he needed to get back to...well, not home- the apartment he had requisitioned from Angel. His mood turned reflective. His saving the girl was a selfless, noble act. And what did he have to show for it? Nothing, not so much as even a 'thank you.' If there was a common theme in his life, that would be it. It's not like he wanted a citation in the newspaper and a medal. What he wanted was for someone to aknowledge his work and appreciate him. Was that really so much to ask? Apparently yes if you're unlucky enough to be one Xander Harris.

He reached the building that contained Angel's former apartment. Xander took out his housekeys and let himself in. He walked over and collapsed on the very same bed where Angel had once lost his soul. Xander stared at the ceiling, wondering what was going to happen to him. He hadn't made any progress in lifting the Plague Vampire curse, or even finding out how. Oh well, he'd go searching again tomorrow night. He had to. The only alternative was sitting here in his stolen apartment and wait for the month's end like a man on death row. He didn't want that. Xander wanted to live.

He'd never been appreciated by Buffy and his friends, and he hadn't gotten any tonight. The circumstances had changed, but the end result hadn't. Why? Maybe he just wasn't a likeable person.

&!

Ding-dong!

Willow opened her front door to reveal standing there none other than the dashingly handsome Vampire Angel.

"Oh, hi Angel! Sorry if I was late answering the door. I didn't hear it at first 'cause I'm watching Throne of Blood on DVD," the red-haired Wiccan greeted.

"Kurosawa, huh? Is that the one with the the general, the princess and and the two peasants," queried the brooding ensouled bloodsucker.

"No, you're thinking of The Hidden Fortress. Anyway, what can I do for you, Angel?"

"Yeahhhh...As I understand it, you have a thing for dabbling in magic spells that can give people incredible powers, right?"

"Well, it's not quite as simple as you put it but it but basically yes. Why do you ask?"

"Listen, Willow. Something's come up. I need your help."

"Oh, come in," Willow said, allowing the vampire to enter her home and closing the door behind him. "So what's going on?"

"Oh, right. Um, listen there's this, uh, demon in town and I was wondering if you would be able to cast a spell that would enhance my fighting abilities by about, oh, a thousand times so I can defeat it."

"Gee Angel, Magic isn't something that can be used so quickly. Have you tried getting Buffy to help you out?"

"NO! NO BUFFY," Angel shrieked, causing Willow to step back in surprise, her eyes wide in fright. Such an outburst from the usually laconic Angel was unheard of. " I mean, no, I can't tell Buffy about this demon because...because...Giles looked it up and, uh...found an, an...ancient prophecy, yeah, that it would be, uh, instant doom for the Slayer if she ever fought this demon, so we can't tell Buffy about this, okay Willow? it has to be our secret," Angel told her.

"Oh...ok, fair enough. Let's go into the basement and I'll see if I can help you out. Come in," the demure redhead said, giving the soft-spoken Vampire permission to enter her living quarters. Angel's hands tightened into fists as he followed Willow down the stairs. The real reason he couldn't involve the Slayer, of course, was that he couldn't risk her interfering in this matter before he could get his revenge on Xander for what happened at the butcher shop. Angel ground his teeth together and almost punched a hole in the Rosenberg's wall. Goddamn that shithead Xander! Now he was making him keep secrets from Buffy? Unacceptable! As mad as he was, Angel was also intrigued. The aestthetically-pleasing Vampire stroked his chin thoughtfully. Xander had seemed...different in the butcher shop...and it wasn't the wardrobe change he was thinking of, which even Angel, in spite of his rage, couldn't help but admire. For starters, how had Xander become so powerful? He'd blocked his blows with ease then tossed him into that pile of boxes like it was the easiest thing in the world. Not only that, but Xander hadn't smelled right. His scent was...different from a human's. Hmm...newfound strength, strange scent...Xander was definetly hiding something, and he was going to find it out, whatever it was. How strange- just a few weeks ago, Xander had gone from being the plainest and least interesting member of Buffy's team to the most mysterious. Just one of those ironies life loves throwing at you, Angel silently philosophized.

Lost in thought, the redemption-seeking nosferatu hadn't noticed he'd reached Willow's basement. He snapped out of his internal musings and glanced about him. The room was shrouded in darkness, the only illumination provided by a set of candles perched on a human skull. Willow was seated, poring over an ancient-looking spellbook.

"Ah-ha," she cried out in satisfaction as Angel approached. "Listen to this: The Hercules incantation greatly enhances a person's physical strength, fighting skills and knowledge of the martial arts."

"Great! Sounds like just what I need to, uh, beat that monster!"

"Wait- Wasn't it a demon you were fighting?"

"Monster, demon, same difference. Come on, hurry up would you? This is taking all day!"

It took Willow only a few minutes to prepare the spell ingrediants and draw the chalk pentagram Angel was now sitting cross-legged in. Willow began the spell. The young Wiccan began chanting in dead languages, beseeching various pagan gods and goddesses to lend their power. A black wind began to blow in the basement, snuffing out the candles. The pentagram glowed red and Angel was overcome with a strange presence. When it passed, the candles re-ignited, signifying the spell's conclusion.

It was incredible. Angel stood to his feet. The power raging through his body was unlike anything he'd ever experienced. Better than shooting up the best heroin ever while getting a blowjob from a supermodel. Yesss...the power to give Xander the beatdown he deserved was his.

"Muhahahahahaha," Angel cackled gleefully. "Xander's going down like a two-dollar hooker on a friday night with the wino convention in town. Verily I shall teach that slut the meaning of humility ha-a!"

"Wait, what was that about Xander?" Willow asked.

Oh shit! He couldn't risk Willow finding out about his plan to curb-stomp Xander's ass no more than he could Buffy.

"No, see, the name of the demon I'm going to fight is named Z'andurr. "It's just a coincedince that their names sound alike," the angst-prone blood afficionado explained matter-of-factly.

"Oh, ok."

&!

Another day, another night for Xander. He put on his white fedora hat and left Angel's former apartment. It had been two whole weeks since he'd contracted the Plague Vampire Curse and still hadn't the slightest idea how to get rid of it and save himself. The teen pushed open the doors of the apartment complex and stepped into the still night. He didn't have any plans for this evening aside from saving people from vampires or worse. It was like he was doing his own version of Buffy's patrols, only he was on the other side of town and made extra certain to stay away from areas he knew the Slayer kept watch over. Xander began walking.

A thought struck him: If plague Vampires are only created when their blood mixes with a human, only exist for one month and are hated by other vamps, how did the species avoid extinction? Xander guessed that they placed a high priority on infecting other humans, much more than ordinary vampires. That or whatever god responsible for their creation hadn't put much thought in their design.

Ten minutes after he left the apartment, Xander found himself near a construction site. The frame of what was going to be an office building towered into the air like a Colossus. The site workers, having gone home for the day had left their equipment and materials strewn about the site. Xander ducked under the yellow caution tape and began to walk around the site. He'd saved a little boy from a slimy thing with tentacles here a few days ago. Xander looked around the site, imagining what it must be like during the day, when it hummed with industry and progress. Maybe he'd get a job in construction if he ever got rid of the curse and graduated from high school.

If.

Graduating...not much hope of that now. He'd lost count of how many classes he'd missed.

Xander toyed with the thought of asking Giles for help in lifting the curse. Could the Watcher keep a secret? Xander shook his head, dismissing the idea. Probabley not. There was no doubt in his mind that Giles would betray him to Buffy at the earliest oppurtunity. He recalled how the Watcher had causally iinformed how his presence hindered their "productivity." Xander's brows furrowed at the memory. Giles could take his productivity and shove it up his pasty-white British ass.

Xander was about to leave the construction site when a white stretch limozine pulled up alongside the curb. One of the passenger doors opened and out stepped Mayor Wilkens III with an extremely beautful woman on either arm. His face lit up in a grand smile on seeing Xander.

"Mr. Harris! Enjoying the nightlife these days?"

"Wilkens...," Xander growled. What did he want?

"Xander, you know the expression 'no good deed goes unpunished'? I find it to be a particularly apt metaphor for describing you. You went out of your way to aid the Slayer and her friends and in doing so incurred the wrath of none other than myself."

"What?"

"Yes, that's right. It was I who sent that Plague Vampire after you," said the Mayor nonchalantly, as though he were observing that the sky is blue or standing in the rain makes you wet. "Although I must confess that the attack was supposed to have left you slightly less than alive...then again, it looks like my plan succeeded, just not as I intended."

"Are you gonna get to the point anytime soon?" Xander snapped.

"Xander, I must confess that I've always wanted to be a father even though I never had children. I'm going to do you a favor and tell you that things are going to be changing here in Sunnydale, and when they do, I want someone to share it with. So I say unto you Xander: Join me at my side and after my Ascension we shall rule this town together."

"Sorry but I haven't had much luck with father figures in the past and I don't think I'd fare much better with an evil one...well, an openly evil one . Now, piss off." The Mayor's face betrayed dissapointment for a brief moment before returning to jovialness.

"My, isn't that unfortunate. You know what the problem is with young people these days? No respect for their elders, that's what. Your words wound me, Xander, they truly do. However, there's something that makes me feel better and do what that is? The thirty-or-so vampires who were waiting to kill you if you refused. Kick his ass, boys!" The mayor and his two whores got back in the limo and sped off into the night. Xander didn't notice this. His attention was focused on the group of Vampires closing in around him.

They had appeared so suddenly, out of the shadows and dark parts of the construction site. A sea of leering faces closed in, surrounding him. They were all men, about thirty in number. They all wore their game faces and they all wanted him dead.

Xander knew he had to take the initiative. If he didn't, the Vampires would overwhelm him and he was dead. Before the ring around him closed completeley the teen stepped up took a swing at the nearest Vamp, knocking him to the ground. Xander quickly spun around before one of them could attack his exposed back and used his momentum to do a spin kick that hit three Vampires in the face, knocking them back. Six Vampires were one his left, Eight to his right and God only knew how many behind him. Xander had to keep moving. He lashed out with three right hooks, blocked two punches and was about to attempt a sweep kick to give him some more breathing room when one of them kicked Xander in the small of his back, propelling him forward and almost making the teen lose his balance. He was so foccused on not following over that he failed to block a punch to his face. Then two Vampires grabbed his arm and held them behind him. Then got in a shot to Xander's stomach and backhanded him before he managed to rear up and kick his frontal attackers away and free himself.

One on one, Xander was more than a match for any of the vampires. Against a whole mob of them, he was fighting for life. He began attacking in all direction- flailing out with a few punches, chops and kicks in one direction before dealing with Vampires in a another direction. It worked reasonable well until a Vampire Xander hadn't seen picked up a plank of wood and broke it over his head.

This time he did fall down. How he remained conscious he didn't know. Lying on his back, the Vampire who'd cracked him loomed in his view brandishing the brocken piece of wood, the shard's dull brown points looming large in his vision. The Vampire raised it above, intending to plunge into Xander's heart-

He rolled over just in time and the broken plank plunged into the rough soil of the site instead of his flesh. Xander needed a change of plans. They were wearing him out. He needed to end this fight before they ended him. Out of his pocket he withdrew his stake. Things were about to get fatal.

Again Xander launched himself into the fray. Again and again he stabbed out with the stake, sometimes reaching an undead heart and dusting a vampire, sometimes not. As hard as he tried, the Vampires would get a shot in. Xander could feel himself slowing down. His muscles ached. He began counting his the Vampires exploding into dust...seven...eight...nine...

Xander whirled around expecting to confront another ten or twelve vampires behind him, but was suprised to see only three. They exchanged glances and before he knew it, the survivors decided the fight was lost and fled. Xander had won.

He sank to his knees, panting. Everything hurt. He was glad he no longer had a reflection- his face must have been a brutal sight with all its cuts and bruises. He looked down. The front of his white suit was covered red stain turning brown. His blood- normal Vampires didn't bleed.

Xander spat out a broken tooth and stood up. All he wanted to do was go home and sleep for about a month. Granted, he would be dead from the Plague Vampire curse by then, but that didn't seem like such a bad thing if it meant relief from the pain.

He had limped to within a few blocks of Angel's former apartment when he heard a familiar voice.
"Xander..."

The teen glanced about him. There was no there. Where had the voice come from. Then he looked up.

Standing there on the roof of an eight-Storey apartment building was a mysterious figure in a long dark coat looking down on him. Silhouetted against the full moon, Xander couldn't see who it was. Before he could ask, the figure jumped down all eight Storeys and landed on his feet with a catlike grace. The stranger turned towards Xander and walked into the moonlight, allowing the teen to see his face.

It was Angel.

"Xander," the reserved Hibernian Vampyre greeted. His tone was full of false friendlyness and civility. He was smiling, as though he'd at last found something he'd been looking for a long time. "Surprised to see me? Thought I'd still be unconscious in that pile of boxes where you left me? Sorry, but it takes more than that to put me away."

"What do you want, Deadboy?" Angel chuckled.

"Come on, Xander. I've always known you're not genius material, but even you should be able to figure it out. We Vampires are like elephants- we don't forgive or forget. Did you really think I would just forget about what happened at the butcher shop? Did you really think I'd just let it slide?"

"So it's revenge you want? Is this Angel or Angelus I'm talking to?"

"Oh, I'm all Angel. But let me tell you something, Xander Harris, having a soul doesn't mean you can't hate what someone did to you."

"Come on, Angel, can't we let bygones be bygones? I had a bad day, alright? I don't wanna fight you."

"Bad day, eh? It's about to get worst." With that Angel launched began his attack. Everything was different. Blows that Xander had onced dodged and blocked with were almost impossibly fast. Angel feinted, throwing slower-than-normal punch. When Xander held up his arms to block it, Angel grabbed them, robbing Xander of his defenses. Angel swung his head back and CRACKK headbutted Xander once, then twice. The teen tried to ignore the pain and fought back. He punched Angel in the stomach and quickly crouched and tried to trip the other Vampire with a sweeping kick. Angel jumped over it and kicked him in the face. Angel then succeeded in punching Xander twice but was blocked on his third attempt. Xander ducked under Angel's next hit and, seeing an opening, jumped off of a nearby wall and kicked Angel across his face. The Vampire, now angered, wore his game face. Angel dodged Xander's next punch, grabbed Xander's outstretched hand and in one swift move, turned around so that the underside of his arm was facing upwards and pulled down on it. The sound of cracking bones split the air when Xander's arm bent the wrong way on Angel's shoulder. He screamed in pain.

Xander crumpled to the ground, holding his wounded limb. Angel towered over him, triumphant.

"What's the matter, Harris, huh? Not gonna crack one of your stupid jokes?" Angel taunted. He kicked at Xander on the floor. He kicked again. And again. Then he grabbed Xander and put him in a headlock. "Why do you fight, Xander? You have no friends! Nobody likes you! Your life is a failure! Give up! He released the boy and watched him again fall to the floor clutching his broken arm. He hated everything about Xander Harris right now, how pathetic he was. Angel unbuckled his belt and held the leather strap in his hands and loomed over the oblivious Xander. Than Angel raised his hand and brought it down on Xander's prone form. Whoosh-Crack! Xander cried out in pain. Angel smiled. Again he raised the belt and brought in down, harder this time. Angel lost count of the times he lashed the defeated Xander. How he loved the sound the leather made when it hit and the resultant cries of anguish from Xander. Angel became aware of his erection straining against the confines of his tight leather pants. It wasn't that Angel was gay or anything (not that there's anything wrong with that)- it was just that beating the hell out of someone turned him on like nothing else.

He needed release. And so he left- but not before leaving Xander a parting gift. Angel hunched over him, held one nostril shut with his right index finger and blew through his nose as hard as he could.

&!

For the second time that evening there was the sickening sound of of bone cracking. Xander gritted his teeth and pushed harder. More pain and a POP! sound as the bones set back into position. For some reason, whether it was because the Plague Vampire Curse had healing powers associated with it or the wound wasn't as bad as he feared, Xander's arm was already feeling better only a few hours after Angel broke it.

Xander's mood turned reflective as he lay back in Angel's former bed. So Deadboy wanted him to give up? Surrender and just meekly accept his fate? That's something the old Xander would have done. He wasn't the same person. He be damned if he did something just because Angel told him to. Not only was he not going to give in, he was going to show him that Xander Harris was still around. He'd told Angel that they didn't need to be enemies- too late for the now. That Rubicon had been crossed. If Angel wanted a war, that's what he'd get. He looked around the little apartment. There was tons of Angel's stuff that he'd never gotten around to moving to his mansion. Xander could start by eBaying it. Not only would it piss off Angel but he'd make some money too. The teen began making plans. He'd need some wood...some lighter fluid...

&!

Angel was as pleased as punch. The party was a smashing success. One of the waitresses he'd hired for the occasion offered him a martini, when he accepted. He was well-dressed in a burgundy-colored silk bathrobe with blue-and-white pyjamas underneath. He watched as the guests talked and danced to the booming beat of MC Hammer's classic Can't Touch This. Angel mentally went over the guestlist: Oz, Cordelia, Giles, Principal Snyder, Jonathan, Joyce, Willy the Snitch, Willow, Ethan Rayne, Larry, Jack O'Toole, and of course, Buffy. Ostensibly, they thought Angel was throwing a housewarming party for his mansion. Angel smirked. Little did they know that the real reason he was throwing this bash was to celebrate his beatdown of Xander not even two days ago.

"I say, Angel, this is wonderful get-together you've thrown," congradulated a rather drunken Giles.

"Why thank you Giles, I appreciate the compliment. By the way, would you say that I'd forgotten anybody from the guest list?" He asked the tipsy Watcher.

"Why no. Everybody who matters seems to be here." Angel chuckled to himself as Giles went of to hit on Joyce Summers. Just as he figured.

Just then, a hush fell over the room as Willow dashed into the room. Angel could see that something was wrong from the Wiccan's panicky expression.

"Angel, come quick! There's something you should see!"

"Where?"

"It's on lawn, just by the rose garden." Angel quickly strode to the mansion balcony and looked out on the mansion grounds. He looked about, trying to see what Willow was referring to. And then he saw it.

A eight-foot tall wooden cross had been planted set in the ground and set ablaze. He could hear the fire crackling even from the balcony. Angel was emotionally numb as he absorbed what had happened. The party guests crowded around him, wondering how he would react to this bizarre event. Without warning he crumpled the martini glass in his hand, ignoring the glass shards in his hand and bellowed a single cry of fury.

"XAAAANDEEERRRRRR!"