Many thanks for the reviews, which have now passed the magic 100 barrier! I hope that you all approve of the next part, which seemed to write itself. It was very odd, but my muse is like that sometimes. Disclaimers: I don't own the characters, I'm just taking them for a test drive around my demented imagination.


Xander froze. If he ever needed the force, he needed it now. But the storm of emotion that was sweeping him stepped into the way; anger, horror, guilt, self-loathing for allowing this to happen, for being so caught up in his own struggle that he had forgotten about the others, anger again...

The insane vampire was still feeding off an increasingly limp Kendra and he made another desperate effort to reach for the force, to do something, to stop this nightmare from happening, but once again that roaring flame of all the wrong emotions stopped him. He could see feel the force through those emotions but it felt wrong, hard-edged, angry, somehow tinged with black.

The shock was so great that he physically recoiled. The dark side! No, not that, anything but his worst nightmare, not the one thing that he had been fighting to avoid for so many months.

Desperately he closed his eyes and worked on his exercises, closing off his emotions one by one with what seemed like painful slowness as the need for speed pulsed through him. He shunted that to the back of his mind and subdued everything else. From a long way away he seemed to hear a faint voice with mixed grammar saying: "A Jedi uses the force for knowledge and defence, he does yes, never for attack. Know this, you do, um, um? Yes, know this you do."

"Yes, I do," he whispered and then, once his mind was quiet, he reached for the light side of the force. It was there. Kendra's presence in it was not and he felt a jolt of emotion that almost made the force slip out of his grip.

No. Now was not the time for revenge. Now was the time for justice and self- defence. There was a difference.

He opened his eyes and looked at Drusilla, who had let the lifeless body of the Jamaican Slayer slump to the ground and who was delicately licking her fangs clean with her tongue. Then she caught sight of Xander.

"Now there's a pretty one," she breathed, but before she could move Xander acted. Using the force he dived over the railings, executed a quick somersault, landed on the table, kicked hard upwards into another force- aided leap and landed in front of the mad vampire, who looked very impressed. The surviving minion behind her looked even more nervous than the other two had.

Don't think about Giles, Xander thought quickly, don't think about Willow or Oz. He could feel them behind him, hurt but still alive, and he could feel the Watcher, also hurt but still alive and moving further and further away by the second. Just think about this, he thought, this moment...

"Pretty one's very agile... I think I'll introduce you to Miss Edith and let her show you how much she can jump as well..."

His face expressionless, Xander looked into her eyes as she started her mojo with the weird finger-waving and woogy eyes piece. Deep in the grip of the force, it had absolutely no effect on him.

After a few seconds Drusilla also noticed this, as she started to first frown and then stare hard at him – or rather through him. Then a number of expressions flashed across her face – first uncertainty, then astonishment, incredularity, fear, horror and finally outright terror.

Placing her hands over her cheeks she stepped back shakily. "No," she whimpered, "Nononononono... too much light there... too much power... from too far away... NOOOO!" and then she was gone, running through the doors screaming incoherently about not being able to hear Miss Edith because of the light, followed by a deeply confused minion.

"Ok, that was not what I was expecting," said Xander, before reacting. He looked wildly around, probing with the force, torn between decisions. Willow and Oz were unconscious, although Wills was starting to stir. He felt a flash of remorse, which he quickly quelled before it got out of control. When he'd chopped Fashion Victim's hand off, the metal bar it had been holding had spun off – and hit Willow. It was his fault that she was injured. Kendra was dead, and if only he had fought harder perhaps she might be alive, if only he'd moved faster, if only he hadn't lost his hold on the force, if only he hadn't been so weak as to feel the dark side for the first time. If, if, if. Too many ifs.

That was the past, he thought, struggling to stay focused, struggling to keep the force. Now he had to make a decision fast. Stay and protect Willow and Oz? Or run after the vamps that had Giles, who were obviously going to drag him back to Angelus so that the vampire could wring the right information from him about reactivating Acathla and ending the world.

He had no choice, this was a no-brainer. He hated to leave his oldest friend, but he could feel Buffy's presence start to strengthen as she approached and he had no choice. Buffy would take care of the others. He turned and ran after the vampires.


Her head felt as if it was going to go pop at any moment, she was shaking from the very effort of looking up and her eyelids seemed to weight several tonnes, but Willow forced herself to look at the swinging doors. "Was that Xander?" she murmured woozily and then passed out again.


He ran through the corridors, his senses alert, his sword gripped firmly in his hand. Turning one corner he saw the main doors to the school still swinging slightly from the passage of the vampires and reaching out with the force he opened them as he approached, leaping down the steps outside and turning his head to look at the spot fifty yards away where the force told him that the vampires were.

Two were busy bundling Giles into the back of an extremely battered car that had had its windows painted over to prevent the sunlight from entering. The other one was trying to help a wailing Drusilla in, or rather push her in. Xander had no idea why his force abilities had set her off like that, but frankly he was relieved. Mad she may be, he thought as he ran towards the car, but she's still dangerous.

At the sound of his footsteps the minion with Drusilla looked up, pulled a face and threw her into the car, shouting "Let's go, it's that maniac with the sword!"

The others looked up and slammed the back door, one getting into the drivers side and starting the car. With a squeal of brakes the car moved off, and Xander accelerated. He had no chance of outrunning the thing, but if he could catch up with it while it was still accelerating...

But now it was moving faster and faster. Desperately Xander reached out with the force as he ran, with a wild idea that perhaps he could lift the thing off the ground, or just tip it up so that the rear wheels lost traction. But the car was too big, his grip on the force was too weak, it was like trying to pick up an iceberg with a pair of sugar tongs. Then he remembered the incident the month before with Angelus and as he ran he looked around for anything that could be used as a weapon, which could puncture one of the tires and just slow the car down.

There! Up the road a battered 'Stop" sign was leaning drunkenly against a hedge and Xander fumbled for it with the force, wrenching up, up slowly until the jagged metal base came free of the concrete. Panting now, both with running so hard and the strain of picking up something so large with the force, he aimed it and sent it swooping towards the car, aiming in the general direction of the rear left hand wheel. There was a –whung- of metal hitting metal but instead of hitting the wheel, the sign crunched into the luggage compartment and stuck there, wobbling ridiculously as the car sped away into the night. His grip on the force dribbled away and Xander Harris slowed and stopped, staring anguished at the disappearing taillights. Then he let out a scream of frustration and grief that echoed around him, before he let the sword fall out of his hand and he fell onto his knees. He had failed.

He wasn't sure how long he stayed there, teeth clenched, staring at the surface of the road. It was more than a few minutes, as he needed more than that to run through what he'd got wrong tonight. It was a horrible list.

Should have sensed them earlier, he thought savagely, should have killed those vamps sooner, should have been more careful when that pipe went whizzing off, should have saved Kendra, should have run faster after them, should have rescued Giles... Some Jedi-wannabe he was. No, he was miles away from being a Jedi.

Slowly he got to his feet and picked his sword up. Too many lessons tonight, he thought sadly. Never take anything for granted, never rest on your laurels, never... he sighed and looked up at the stars. He knew where they were talking Giles – the Factory. But he couldn't just walk in and deal with them. He needed a plan. And he needed the Slayer.

Thinking about Buffy, he blinked suddenly and then cursed. Buffy! She'd been approaching the school and – she'd find Kendra dead. Her friend and fellow slayer. He turned and started to run back to the school.


Spike was having a quiet fag as he looked out over the Sunnydale skyline when he heard doors banging open at the rear of the factory and the sound of someone being dragged in. This was nothing new, so he took another puff and wondered how many Silk Cut he still had left. Then heard a low moaning babbling noise, the sound that Dru made when she was deeply disturbed and it was all he could do not to leap from his wheelchair and go to her. Instead, he quickly wheeled his way down the corridor and into their room, in time to see two of his flunkies lay her on the bed. She was shaking and her eyes were locked on some distant point far beyond the room.

"What the bloody hell happened?" he snapped as he approached.

The first flunky looked at the other, who shrugged. "There was a guy there, with a sword. She drained this chick who was fighting us and then this guy saw her, leapt across the table like it wasn't there, man, like he just flipped his feet and went for it. And then he looked at her – and she freaked. She ran, yellin' something I couldn't understand about not being able to hear and something about him being from far, far away. Had a struggle to get her in the car."

There was a step at the door and Spike turned to see that Angelus had returned. "We got the Watcher!" he said gloatingly, "And soon he'll tell us all he knows. What's with Dru?" "Like you bloody care," snapped Spike.

"Of course I care," his grandsire replied, "I like an audience when I torture people. Slap her, someone," and then he was gone.

If he had still been there, then the glare that Spike directed at where he'd been probably would have shriveled him to dust. As it was, Spike muttered a curse, wheeled closer to the bed and looked Drusilla in the eyes.

"Dru," he said gently, "Come back to us love, come back to us. What did you see?" For a long moment there was no response and then slowly she turned to look at him.

"Spiky?" she whimpered. "Spikey?"

"It's me, love."

"I saw something in that pretty one, the one that jumped like a cat. Something else, someone else. Beard he had, long glowing sword, from far away, far, far away... there and not there... merging and not merging... becoming something. Very dangerous, that one... I couldn't hear Miss Edith at all when he looked at me..." She shuddered and then her eyes flickered over to her doll collection.

"There you go," said Spike, brushing an errant hair from her forehead, "All there. Miss Edith's over there... now you go spend some time with her and get all better."

As she staggered over to her chair, Spike wheeled quietly out of the room. Then he looked down the corridor and wheeled quickly down a side passage that led to a service entrance by the side of the building. Opening the door and checking to see that the coast was clear, he rose from the wheel chair, kicked the flaps up so that it folded in half and hid it carefully in an old dumpster that was by the door. Then he started to walk quickly.

Dru would be fine, now that she was with her dolls. Something about her description worried him, something that tugged at a memory at the back of his mind. Plus Angelus had the Watcher, which was enough to send the Slayer into a vampire-killing frenzy. This place, he thought, was getting too damn dangerous for words. It was time to reclaim Dru and get the hell out of the Hellmouth. He needed to talk to the Slayer. But very, very carefully, obviously.


By the time that Xander could see the school again, he could also see the flashing lights. Wow, he thought, of all the nights that Sunnydale's not-so- observant police force finally woke up it had to be tonight. The Scoobies' luck fairly sucked just now.

Taking a deep breath he slowed down and looked around. There was a large bush to one side and he carefully hid the sword in it. Even the Sunnydale PD might notice that if he walked into the school with it. It wasn't just the police, he realised, there was an ambulance there as well. Good, that meant that Willow and Oz were getting treatment. Walking up he could see Snyder talking to someone by the doors and then he heard something that made his heart stop for a second.

"-Summers, repeat, Buffy Summers, Caucasian, five feet four inches, blond hair, wanted on suspicion of murder-" crackled one of the police radios.

Oh my god, what a bunch of brainless losers he thought. They're hunting Buffy. What the hell happened?

Then two things happened. Firstly he saw a pair of paramedics wheeling Willow towards the ambulance and secondly Snyder saw him and came pounding down the stairs towards him.

"Harris, there'd better be a good reason why you're here, as your little friend has-" Embracing the force in an instant, Xander looked at him.

"You don't need to hear my reason," he said softly, cutting Snyder off.

"I don't need to hear your reason," repeated Snyder, blankly.

"I'm not the Harris you're looking for,"

"You're not the Harris I'm looking for,"

"I can go about my business."

"You can go about your business."

Smiling quietly, and relieved at having done something right for one that evening, Xander walked off and climbed into the back of the ambulance, leaving Snyder shaking his head and looking confused.

"It's okay," he told the surprised female paramedic, "I'm a friend of Willow," and he pulled out his student ID badge to show. The paramedic grumbled slightly, but allowed him to stay as she jumped out, pulled the doors closed and got into the drivers seat for the trip to the hospital.

As the ambulance sped through the streets, its siren wailing, Xander looked at his two friends as they lay on the stretchers. Oz was groaning quietly but was still unconscious while Willow was too pale and still for his liking. Xander frowned. So far he had concentrated on some of the most basic of Jedi skills, plus swordplay. Healing was a step up from anything he had done so far.

But the fact was that he felt very strongly that this was something that he had to at least try to do, a way to make up for his mistakes of the evening, a way to atone for his momentary brush with the dark side.

Although he had memories of Obi-Wan using his healing skills every now and then, it had not been the older Jedi's strongest power. That made him pause. He may have had Obi-Wan's memories, but that did not make him Obi- Wan. He was himself, and his use of the force was unique to himself. He shook his head. He was getting too freaking metaphysical for his own good.

Turning back to Willow, he embraced the force and then gently reached out to put his right hand on her forehead. Then he closed his eyes and used the force to assess her injuries...

After a few seconds he opened his eyes and swallowed hurriedly, suppressing the need to be sick. Wills had a head wound and head wounds always made him feel nauseous. This was no time to get weak, he told himself, closing his eyes again and reaching out with the force.

He wasn't a doctor, he told himself, and if he went poking around in her head he might do her all kinds of harm. But he could see the faint bruising on her brain and he could feel the lump on her head and by using the force gently... to heal, to give Willow's immune system a little help, to turn the angry red feelings that an injury created in the force into a more calmer sensation of healing.

He opened his eyes again and sat there, shivering quietly, feeling utterly exhausted. He'd done what he'd could, but Xander wasn't sure that it was enough. But something was better than nothing. Wills was less pale, and as he watched she moved slightly and made a "wstfgl" noise in her throat. She was asleep now, not unconscious, and Xander smiled gently. He'd done something right this evening, anyway.


By the time that Oz had regained consciousness and joyfully kissed a woozy but rather better Willow, Xander was slumped in a chair, munching on a snack bar that he'd bought from a vending machine down the hallway. The hospital had rather a good selection and he felt his energy returning after the first two bars had vanished down his throat. He had also found himself rather glad to see Cordelia, who had appeared with a band-aid on her head from a slight scratch and who was triumphantly holding the piece of paper that held the curse.

Looking at their disbelieving faces, she raised her eyebrows. "What? When they turned up I thought that they might be there to hex the whole cursing thing, so I grabbed it and ran. I got mud on my Gucci boots as well," she said, spoiling the effect slightly with her last comment.

"Nice, Cordy, just work on your heroic comments a bit," smiled Xander and then looked at Willow. "Has anybody talked to Buffy yet? I know that the Keystone Cops are out looking for her, but I think that we really need to find her fast." All that Xander knew was that Buffy was somewhere in a certain direction and that she was feeling aggravated, which wasn't helpful.

"Did you ring her home?" asked Willow and Xander paused. That was just too simple for his Jedi-obsessed mind, he thought and then sheepishly shook his head as the redheaded girl reached for the telephone next to the hospital bed.

As she dialed she looked up at Xander. "How come you were using that sword back there so well?" she asked, "And before I went all droopy didn't I see you go all Xena-like and leap over a table."

"You hit your head, Wills," Xander replied, thinking desperately, "You might've seen Barney the purple dinosaur as well."

Willow narrowed her eyes. "We're going to talk about this afterwards, Alexander Harris," she said. "See? Resolved face. You know you can't beat the resolved face and – oh, hi Mrs Summers! Yes, I'm fine, I'm in the hospital. I feel a little woozy, but I'll be okay. Is Buffy there? Ok thanks." She looked around excitedly. "Buffy's there! She – hi Buffy! Are you okay? Yes, I'm all right, my brain didn't get smooshed or anything. The doctors said I was lucky, I didn't hurt my head that badly. But they got Giles!"

She listened for a moment. "But you have a lead? Who? Buffy, can't you tell me who? Okay, but... wait, Xander wants a word."

Taking the receiver Xander perched on the end of the bed. "Hey Buff, sorry about Giles."

"Don't worry, we'll get him back," was the slightly strained reply from the earpiece.

"I have an idea about that. They took him to the factory. We cut down on the odds a little at the library, but they're going to be expecting you."

"I know. I have a spade in the hole."

"You mean ace in the hole."

"That too. Look, Xander keep Willow and the others safe there."

"No."

"Xander-"

"Like it or not I'm helping. Meet me outside the factory in an hour."

"No, Xander we-" he cut her off by putting the phone down and then looked up at the others, who were regarding him uneasily.

"Since when did you become all GI Joe?" muttered Cordelia.

"Since it counted," was the terse reply. "I'm going to help Buffy. We're going to rescue Giles and then put the gruesome threesome into the ground." Standing up he swept out.

Willow gaped at the doorway. "Xander never sounded that determined before," she murmured and then looked down at the curse where it lay on the bed.

"I can do this," she said uncertainly.

Oz stirred in his chair. "Baby, are you sure?"

"Resolved face," she replied, her chin coming up. "Can you get the things I'll need?"


By the time that Xander had returned to the bush where he'd left his sword, he was getting very odd readings on what he was now calling his force- powered Buffy-o-meter. She had felt normal when he put the phone down, but a few minutes later he picked up a feeling of immense sadness, almost a rifting feeling. And by the time that he had reached the road that led to the factory, that had been joined by a feeling of deep anger and helplessness, combined with bafflement.

No, something was up with the Slayer, and he had no idea what. On reflection, it was only to be expected after the day's events, what with Kendra dead, Giles captured, Willow injured and the library looking like a war zone.

He paused and shook his head. It had been an eventful day, a long, nasty day after which, he knew, things would never be quite the same. Then he looked up at the factory and stretched out with the force.

Five vampires at the main doors he thought... three on the roof... two more at the rear... ten at various places inside... plus Angelus, yuck... Oh, there was Drusilla, her mind all brittle shards, no wonder she was a candidate for a straitjacket... and there was Spike. Hum. Stronger than we thought. A lot stronger. And angry, too.

He thought back to the conversation he'd had with Buffy and her strange mention of an ace in the hole. Spike? That was ludicrous!

And there was Rupert Giles... alive but weak. Dangerously weak. With Angelus next to him and-

The shock hit him and Xander recoiled. Pain, there was a lot of pain coming off the Watcher. As if... he was being tortured.

He looked around desperately. The Slayer was a good mile or two away and by the way that Giles was feeling, he was too weak for his own good. It was up to him.

Standing there he closed his eyes and calmed his mind. This was important. There was no point going in if he was going to lose himself to the dark side or lose his grip on the force at the wrong moment. He stripped away his emotions down the core of his being and then slowly let out a breath. Then he walked towards the side of the factory.

There was an old dumpster against one of the walls and he approached it carefully, assessing if it would bear his weight. If he could climb on top and then force-leap to the roof... the three up there were on the other side of the building... then he saw the door and paused. Open door, no guards. A little too obvious, but when he stretched out with the force he realised that it seemed to be genuinely not a trap. Hum. Perhaps it was an escape route?

Drawing his sword he peered in carefully. The nearest vampire was 20 yards away and was walking away. Slipping in, he glided slowly from shadow to shadow. This wasn't easy and several times he had to stop dead as a vampire passed by nearby. But none of them detected him and he was able to move on.

Finding Giles wasn't hard, he was in a great deal of pain, although that pain was now mixed in with deep, deep grief and longing. The problem was the two guards on the door and the muttering voice inside. After a moment a smiling Angelus came out, half-supporting a weak but also smiling Drusilla. Xander shrank back and closed his eyes, minimizing his force signature. If she had gone all wiggy over the force back at the library, then she might pick it up again here and...

But the two vampires walked off down the corridor away from him, with Angelus making a flippant comment about having a world to end.

Which meant that... they knew how to wake up Acathla. Which meant that his rescue mission was even more important than before. If Giles knew how to waken the stone demon, then he also knew how to put the bloody thing to sleep again.

The two guards were rather typical of the minions that Angelus and Spike kept about the place. Neither looked very bright and one looked rather dim. Xander waited for a moment until he could no longer hear Angelus and Drusilla and then smoothed quietly around to one side.

The first guard never even had a chance to say anything as Xander's sword removed his head quite cleanly. The second one had just enough time to gape at the settling dust before Xander was on him. Stepping forward he moved to make a backhanded stroke that hacked his head off as well. Pausing to check that no one had heard, Xander moved into the room.

The room itself smelt of blood and sweat and as he approached Giles he realised that the Watcher was not in good shape at all. Tied to a chair, he was pale and shaking with reaction.

"Giles," he hissed as he fumbled with the knots on the ropes, "Giles, it's me, wake up."

The rope was slick with blood and, now deeply concerned, Xander reached out with the force to help with the Watcher's healing processes. It was fortunate that he was deeply in the grip of the force, or he would have passed out from the pain that the man was feeling, but he was able to lessen it a little.

"Mmmph?" said Giles and then his lolling head came up. "Xander?"

"In the flesh. Hang on, I'll have these damn knots undone now."

"No... you're not real... they made me see things... made me see... Jenny... made me tell them... you're not real..."

"Giles?"

"Mmph?"

"Why would they make you see me?"

"Good... point... let's go..."

The last of the ropes slid to the ground and Xander helped the man to his feet, slipping his right arm around his neck so that he could support the Watcher and keep his right sword arm free at the same time.

"Let's get you out of here," he muttered.

Luck, having been with them to this point, then turned against them. As they came out of the room, there was a half-yell and then a vampire that Xander had sensed, but hoped that would pass by without noticing, spotted them. As he ran towards them the sword flashed out and he joined the growing pile of dust on the floor.

"Can you run?"

"In your bloody dreams can I run," muttered the Watcher, but speeded up to a slightly faster anguished hobble.

Two more vampires individually encountered the pair, with Xander dealing with them both, but each time Xander was forced to move away from the route to the side door to the building and too close to comfort to the main door. He could still sense the five there, but he could also sense...

There was a chuckle from the shadows and Angelus stepped out. He was holding a sword with a crescent-shaped hilt and he seemed highly amused.

"Well, well, if it isn't the Zeppo on a rescue mission. Doing the Slayer's dirty work again Harris?"

Giles removed his arm from around Xander's shoulders and slumped against the wall. "Leave me here Xander, save yourself," he muttered.

"Oh, the selfless, noble Watcher wants to sacrifice himself!" sneered the vampire and looked back. "Isn't that cute?"

Moving forwards slightly Xander could see, with an inward curse that they were far too close to the entrance lobby. He could see Spike in his wheelchair, several minions, a huge stone statue of a rather portly horned demon, which was presumably Acathla, and Drusilla, who visibly shrank from his gaze.

Then he looked at Acathla again. The sword that Giles had told them about was missing.

"Yes," said Angelus, obviously reading his mind, "I've just pulled the sword out. You're going to be going to hell in a few minutes. Or rather the others will. I have a score to settle you first, Harris, and there's no Slayer here to save you."

That's what you think, thought Xander grimly, as he felt Buffy's presence approach the factory.

"She wasn't there," he said, surprising himself.

"What?" snapped the irritated vampire.

"When you cornered me. She wasn't there."

"So who hit me with that damn pole?"

"I did."

Angelus laughed. "Harris, you're getting ideas above your station. Delusional ideas," and then he struck like a snake, the sword lashing out.

There was a clang as it met Xander's own sword, held in his two-handed grip and there was a moment of stillness. Then Angelus sprang back and attacked again, the swords clattering and clanging together for a moment.

Pausing to move slightly to one side and look at his opponent, Angelus frowned. "You're full of surprises, Harris," and Xander smiled.

"Like I said the last time we met – you have no idea what I've learnt recently," and he used the force like a fist to strike Angelus in the chest.

The vampire reeled slightly and then stared at him in astonishment. "How did you do that?"

There was a wail from behind them. "He's full of light again! Spikey, make him stop that!"

"Full of what?" breathed Angelus and then attacked again, using an overhand blow that Xander parried full on, using the momentum of his sword to sweep the vampires arm out slightly and then to jab at his chest. Angelus jumped back, but there was a rent in his shirt and a red line on his chest.

"You'll have to do better then that," he snarled and attacked again, his sword sweeping down and across as he tried to use his superior speed and strength to force Xander back. Xander however was in the grip of the force. There was nothing on his mind but this moment of conflict and he almost allowed himself to marvel at the way he was keeping himself in the fight. The problem was that he had no idea how long he could keep it up.

"Full of what?" barked Angelus again as a quick feint failed to attract Xander's attention.

Xander grinned. "The force is with me."

Angelus laughed at this and stepped back. "You have got to be kidding me, you really think that?"

"I know that," came the reply as Xander stood there, and then used the force to push Angelus again. The laughter stopped.

"I don't know what kind of magic you're using, but I'm going to carve it out of you. And by the way? You really shouldn't have left the Watcher on his own back there."

Snatching a hurried look behind him, Xander cursed. The fight had drawn him away from Giles and now the pale and shaking Watcher was being held upright by one of the minions. He looked familiar. Come to that, he also looked very nervous, and Xander realised that he was the vampire who had helped Drusilla away from the library and who had seen his swordplay in action.

"If you so much as scratch him," snarled Xander, "I'll kill you."

Angelus smirked. "Oh, the Zeppo's making threats now! Face it, Harris, you bit off more than you can chew this time. You're all on your own here."

"Not quite," came a voice from the shadows next to Giles, and suddenly the vampire that was holding him was a cloud of dust. Pocketing Mr Pointy, Buffy stepped out. She was clutching her own sword and was looking at Angelus through calm but determined eyes.

"Xander, we need to talk about just how you got to use that sword so well. Afterwards. Take Giles and get him safely out of here."

"Buffy-"

"Go!" She smiled grimly. "I'll take care of Angelus."

Backing up, Xander went over to help the Watcher to his feet again and then hoisted him over his shoulder in a fireman's lift.

"Be careful, Buffy," he muttered and then left the building, dispatching one careless vampire as they passed the doors, which had more dust blowing around them from where Buffy had earlier disposed of the guards.

As he walked down the road, staggering under the weight of the Watcher, he heard the clash of swords grow fainter and fainter, but he could feel the resolve that the Slayer was radiating, like a boulder in a the stream of the force. A few moments later they were very nearly mown down by a speeding black car with a stop sign still waggling as it protruded from the back, driven by a very mobile Spike with an unconscious Drusilla next to him. Xander gaped. That must have been some ace in the hole.

At this point Giles stirred, before saying in a thick voice: "Xander?"

"Yes, G-man?"

"Thanks for getting me out of there."

"Don't mention it."

"But please put me down from here before I throw up over your shirt."

"Oh," and Xander hoisted him down to the ground so that Giles could catch his breath and quell his rebellious insides.

"Feeling better?"

"Yes, much," said Giles as Xander helped him up. "It all went a bit hazy back there. Where's Buffy?"

"She's fighting Angelus, having somehow removed Spike and Drusilla from the game board and-" Xander paused and looked back sharply at the factory. The hole in the force where Deadboy existed was filling in some strange manner, as if... as if he was returning to normal, going back to being Angel.

"His soul is back..." he breathed and Giles frowned muzzily. "Willow must have finished the spell this time..."

Buffy's readings were all over the place by now. He could sense suspicion, uncertainty and then a slowly growing joy... and then suddenly, sharply, the world span around Xander. Something was ripping a small but growing rent in the force, like a hole in the world that was sucking life into some very deep, very dark pit.

"Oh crap," he retched, "Giles, I think that Acathla is awake, or his sucking –the-world-into-hell mojo has started. Feels like there's a whirlpool leading to a cesspit in the factory. How do we stop it? Giles?"

"Angel's blood..." groaned the Watcher, looking at the building. "It requires Angel's blood."

From he could sense, Buffy's joy had turned to a dreadful anguish with resolve mixed into it and then suddenly three things hit Xander, making him wince and look away from the building. The first was a sudden massive burst of pain from Angel, that dwindled away at the same time that the whirlpool feeling from Acathla abruptly ended. The third was the feelings that were overwhelming Buffy.

Despair. Anguish. Hopelessness. Her heart had broken, he could tell.

"Giles," he whispered. "Buffy deactivated Acathla. And I can't sense Angel anywhere, so I'm presuming that she sealed Acathla with his blood..."

The Watcher groaned again. "And Buffy?"

"She's not in a good place right now. I think she needs to mourn him. And I think I need to get you to a doctor."

Giles stared at the building for a long time. "Perhaps you're right," he said finally. "Ow! Yes, please lead on. You'll-"

"I'll let you know if I sense anything else about Buffy," he said quietly and led the injured Watcher away from the building that they both now associated with so much pain.