The park was dark and noticeably empty. Buffy shivered, though the night was far from cold. She reached out with her immortal sense, feeling, trying to see if Klossen was in the vicinity, but she could feel nothing. She glanced out of the corner of her eye towards Methos who walked softly beside her, to see if he might be feeling anything, but if he was, he showed no sign of it.

She stopped next to the swing set, and blew a bit of hair from her eyes, scanning the park once more, but finding nothing.

"Are we early?" She checked her watch as she spoke. Methos shook his head.

"We're on time. He means to make you wait. He'll be here."

He seemed calmer now, moreso than he had been throughout the entire situation. She wondered if the calm came from the confidence he had in her, or the certain knowledge that one way or another it would be over tonight. Perhaps it was a mixture of both.

"You'd better hide somewhere then." She told him, whispering though they were the only ones in the park. "If he senses you, he'll know our plan and he might kill Richie anyway."

Methos nodded and started to leave. She grabbed his arm to stop him before he could.

"Do you have your sword?"

He nodded, still as ice.

"Don't make me use it." He smiled softly. "Good luck."

"I don't need it," she replied feeling as confident as she sounded. He seemed relieved by that. "I'm going to win."

He tipped his head slightly once more and then disappeared into the shadows, a safe distance away. Buffy turned to glance in the direction that Klossen would be approaching from and closed her eyes, knowing there was no way Klossen could sneak up on her. She would know he was coming long before she saw him. She would know it. And she was ready.

She reached down and fingered her sword, feeling comfort come from the weapon when once all she felt was fear and self loathing.

Angel's presence was gone. Not her love for him, as that would never leave her, but the guilt and pain associated with what she had done. She had done what she had to do and thinking back on it, she would do it again. She could do it again. Methos had been right, she was strong enough.

And if she were strong enough to do that, then killing someone like Klossen had to be easier.

"Thank you Angel," she whispered softly as the immortal buzz took hold of her senses. She opened her eyes just in time to see Klossen approaching in the distance. Grimly she clutched her sword and readied herself.

"You came," was all he said as soon as she was within earshot. She nodded.

"You thought I wouldn't?"

"I've been killing people for months now trying to get you to face me," he sneered. "I thought you just didn't care. What kind of slayer doesn't care about innocent people dying?"

"I care far more for innocent lives, than a psycho like you ever will," she shot back, unable to restrain the anger she felt course through her. She instantly admonished herself. She mustn't let him provoke her. She must remain calm and focused. It was the only way she would be able to defeat him. She looked around and suddenly realized it was just the two of them in the park. "Where's Richie?"

"Ahh, yes, the only one I didn't kill." Klossen smiled in a way that made her skin crawl. "How ironic that it's he who draws you to me, and not the others I've murdered to get your attention? He's right behind me slayer. He was having trouble keeping up. It's been a hard day."

"You tortured him didn't you?" It was posed as a question but was not one. Klossen smiled even wider.

"Nothing he couldn't handle. He's immortal remember?"

Buffy was about to respond, when she felt Richie's presence and saw him approaching slowly, limping in the distance.

"Richie!" She called out and rushed towards him, helping him back to where Klossen stood, eminently amused by the entire situation.

"Buffy…" Richie groaned softly as she sat him down against a tree. There were no visible wounds and she assumed that any that had been there had most likely healed, and yet she had a feeling that despite that, there was only so much an immortal could take without some residual pain even after the wounds had healed. It seemed she'd been right. Richie was considerably weak, but he was alive. She let out a sigh of relief for that small mercy.

"Are you OK?" She asked him.

"I'll be fine." Richie assured her. He gave her a weak smile. "That monster was right about one thing…I'll heal."

"I'm going to kill him." She said it to reassure him, but her tone was almost conversational as if she were talking about the day's weather. That seemed to do the trick and he smiled a little more stronger now.

"I sure as hell hope so."

"Are we done with the touching moment?" Klossen broke in, sounding bored. "Did you come here to fight or to whimper?"

Buffy turned to him and smirked.

"Only a total moron is that eager to fight me." She stated. Klossen seemed slightly taken aback by her cockiness. And why shouldn't he be? She thought to herself. The last time we met didn't exactly showcase my talent as a warrior. This will work to my advantage if he thinks I'm weak and likely to crumble.

"Your confidence amuses me." Klossen said with a slight laugh.

"It amused the vampire Angelus too," she said grimly. "Until I killed him and sent him to hell that is."

She watched as Klossen's smile faltered as the name obviously struck a chord in his memory. Most vampires knew of Angelus and his power. It was a very good name to drop in order to intimidate. Once Buffy would have found it painful, now it was a source of strength.

"I'm no mere vampire." Klossen boasted. "I'm stronger, faster, better. I will be the last. Make no mistake slayer we will fight and I will win. You've gotten away too many times already."

"You talk like a bad horror movie." She replied, almost bored with the pre-fight banter. Why was it these guys always felt the need to trade threats first? "Can't we just get this over with?"

"You're that eager to die?" Klossen questioned with clear amusement.

"Now you're over confident," she pointed out. "And a looney toon to boot."

"We'll see slayer." Klossen growled. He raised his sword and took a readied stance. "Shall we see who is the overconfident one?"

"Fine with me." She raised her sword in answer to his, and the fight was joined.

He was stronger than she was, that much she had known before coming out there. But what she lacked in strength she made up for in skill. Duncan and Methos had trained her well.

She kept her focus as he pressed the attack, disliking that she was on the defensive rather than the offensive, but refusing to act rashly. She defended herself, patiently waiting for her opening.

Soon, she began to see the pattern in his attack. He was relying solely on his strength to defeat her, using the same attack process over and over. She began to figure it out, and used the pattern to her advantage. His eyes widened in surprise as he lunged and then lunged again, failing both times to catch actual flesh in the attack.

"You think you're clever slayer?" He growled. "You'll tire eventually. All I have to do is keep this up."

She smiled this time, her confidence growing as he revealed his weakness over and over.

"You do know what the definition of insanity is don't you?" She asked him as she parried the same lunge he'd been using for the entirety of the fight. He grunted, but didn't answer. "Performing the same action over and over again, expecting different results. Methinks you might be in for a rude awakening buddy. You're cuckoo for coco puffs!"

She sidestepped another attack and ducked under his sword to try to approach from behind. She was met with his sword at the last second however, and thrown back slightly when he forced her away.

"Nice try," he growled as he ran at her. He was getting sloppier. Her avoidance was making him angry. She could do this. She could keep him on the run.

Their swords met again, and her arm nearly buckled under the force of it. She gritted her teeth and met the blow, never leaving his gaze as she did so. Her insistence on looking him in the eye unnerved him. She could tell.

He forced her back again and this time she almost stumbled over. He laughed.

"Think it's funny do you?" She retorted. "You're getting lazier."

"I can beat you with one hand behind my back." He boasted. "I'm just toying with you."

Briefly she wondered if he were right, but when he went to attack once more, he did so the same way, letting her know he was bluffing. He was stronger, but sheer force would not do it. She had thought that way at first and Duncan had defeated her because of it. Only skill would win this fight and she had that thanks to him in spades.

"You think so do you?" She executed a move he never saw coming and managed to slash him in the ribs. He yelled out in surprise and jumped back. The wound was already starting to close up, but it had done the trick. He now knew she had more up her sleeve than he originally thought.

"You think that means something?" He taunted. "My wound is healed already slayer, but you do not have that talent. You can sense me, but that's all you can do. You couldn't even imagine the power I have."

"Or the bad breath, but that doesn't keep you from talking." She shot back with a grin. He charged her and she braced herself for the attack. She stepped backwards hoping to shoulder some of the blow, when her foot caught accidentally on a twig and she found herself hitting the ground just as he raised the blade up and began to bring it down towards her head.

She ducked to roll out of the way, but the sword caught her just as she did so, slicing into her shoulder and causing her to cry out with pain as the blood began to flow. She had gotten too confident and was paying the price.

"Not laughing now are you slayer?" Klossen sneered, as he advanced towards her. She reached for her sword, still on the ground and thrust with it, blindly upwards at it. She hit only air and had to roll over once more as he stabbed the ground, trying to get her. She was beginning to become a bit more nervous. Her shoulder throbbed with pain now making it hard for her to wield the weapon with as much force as before. He was right. She was tiring.

His attacks may be monotonous and without finesse, but he was showing no signs of slowing down and she was wounded and rapidly wearing out.

Scrambling to her feet, she charged him this time, hoping that an offensive attack would put him off guard and create an opportunity for her to finish this, but he met her attacks with equal vigor. Her arm felt like it was about to drop off, but she grit her teeth and pressed on, refusing to give in.

"You like that slayer? You like to feel your own life's blood leaving you?" He chuckled and swung again. She met the sword and cringed as pain shot through her. "You think you're doing well, but it's only a matter of time. Don't bleed too much, I can't wait to drink you dry."

"Who writes your dialogue?" She growled as she lunged at him, missing his heart by only a fraction of a centimeter. "Seriously! You sound like a cheap B movie."

"And you sound scared." He said as he managed to graze her other shoulder. "I'm getting closer aren't I?"

Buffy bit her lip and tried to ignore the fact that he was right. That he was winning.

You're stronger than this she heard Methos telling her from inside. You can do this. I believe in you.

She pressed on harder, her attacks stronger, more assured. She drove him back a little.

Use his strength as a weakness, she remembered Duncan saying. Your slayer abilities won't save you.

She took another step forward, focusing more on tricks with her sword than the power in her thrust. She drove him back a little bit more.

And more.

And more.

And more until she saw the worry, the fear in his eyes. The tables were turning. She could feel the others, cheering her on from within. Duncan's voice, Richie's voice, Joe's voice, Methos' voice. All were with her. All believed in her.

Angel's voice.

She could hear him. He was there.

She swung her sword.

Close your eyes.

At first she thought it was she that was going crazy. She could almost swear she heard him right beside her, whispering in her ear.

Close your eyes.

It was his voice. The same words she had used to destroy him, were returning to help her. He was with her. He was helping her.

Close your eyes.

Raising her sword up one final time, she took the advice and brought it down, the blackness her only comfort.

The sword hit flesh, driving Klossen to his knees. She did not open her eyes however, but rather took the brief window of opportunity and sliced her sword to where she thought his head was located. It took a lot of strength, but she felt it go through, taking his head.

She opened her eyes, just as the head fell to the ground, the look on his face still too shocked to believe what had just happened.

I love you.

It was the last thing that registered in her mind before the quickening came.


She had never felt pain so acutely before in her entire life. It consumed her. It became her. The lightning tore through her like she was paper. It was agony. It was sheer torture. It was pleasure. Orgasmic almost.

She knew she was screaming, but she didn't care. She couldn't hear it. Her mouth was open and yet it felt as if no sound was coming through.

The sky crackled and brought down more lightning.

Klossen's memories, his personality, his life, flashed before her. She saw it all. She lived it all, she felt it all.

His power.

The sheer force of his strength, of all he could have accomplished with the three essences finally merged, the way they were merging now.

Buffy felt her soul begin to reject the feelings. She grit her teeth.

She wanted to scream no! There was now way this would defeat her. Not now. Not after all this. The power would not overtake her. She could fight it. She'd fought this far.

Suppress it. That's what Methos had said.

But it was so very tempting. The idea that she would never have to worry about slaying or dying young again. She could be who she wanted to be, live as the child she still was…or rule if she chose.

Infinite power.

She would be immortal. She could be the last. The prize could be hers.

All it would cost was her soul. The power welled up within her. Was it worth it? Was she willing to take it?

It was so very tempting.

Suppress it.

She could still here Methos' voice, urging her, telling her how to defeat this part. She had to stay true to herself. She had to do this. She would not become a danger. She would not hurt her friends.

She would not become Angelus.

And yet despite this resolve it became more and more tempting. It promised freedom and things she could only begin to imagine could be possible.

The prize…

There can be only one.

Why not her?

Why not?

Was it worth it?


Methos had never seen a quickening so intense. After he saw her take Klossen's head he had rushed to where Richie had sat, sword at the ready along with the tranquilizer gun that Joe had managed to procure and leave behind the tree. He was ready.

The moment the shaking and the tremors subsided, he looked to Richie, disliking the next part with a vengeance.

Aiming the gun, he shot it towards her trembling, half unconscious form that lay on the grass, still reeling from the quickening.

"Did you get her?" Richie hadn't seen whether or not the arrow hit its target.

"I did." Methos replied grimly.

"Is she…" He didn't finish the sentence. He didn't have to.

"I don't know." Methos admitted. He got up and headed towards Buffy now, leaning down and touching her hair softly as he did so. "We'll know when she wakes up…I think. Come on, help me carry her back to my place."

Richie stood up and took hold of her legs while Methos proceeded to grab her arms. Together they gently lifted her and began to walk towards his car.

"How will you find out if it's really her?" Richie was wondering. "What will you do to find out?"

Methos pondered that for a moment as he stared, almost reverently at the sleeping face he carried. And then suddenly it came to him and he knew how he would find out if she were evil or not.

"Something…" he murmured to Richie, formulating the plan in his own brain first before he considered it for others. "Something she won't like. If it is her….well I'll know."
And that was all he said.