Disclaimer: Why bother? You guys know what is and isn't owned by me by now (meaning the people in the Reserves aren't mine)!

Author's Note: I swear, I've never had to be so conscientious of time-flow as I have for this tale. Remind me to never do a multi-placed story ever again. Gah! My brain feels like it's about to explode from keeping track of all the notes I've had to make to keep everything in order. Which is all in a 1-inch binder (about ready to burst) filled with the story itself (highlighted and written on all over), the previous story, and a notes section that's filled with timelines, story plot charts, character info, and whole Hell of a lot of other stuff story-related.

Author's Note 2: Guys, we're rapidly coming up to the end of this story. My Muses have been working day and night and have given me a final outline on the progression of this tale (11 parts in total left). Having looked at it (somewhat fearfully and cringed), all I can say is that we're on an out of control train about to hit another out of control train. Believed me when I say that the ending will be even more explosive and horrifying than that unavoidable collision would be. (shudder!)

Author's Note 3: This part took a little more time than I expected, especially considering I had the dang thing outlined for once (grumbles) Damn Muses couldn't agree on how it should be presented.

Twilight Unicorn: The Vampiric Unicorn (who can't quite believe that she's writing and self-editing such good quality parts in so little time!)

Part 18

LA: Hyperion Hotel (Lobby), 8amish, Day 6

"So, David, you and the Mrs. planning to have any kids," Buffy asked as she idly flipped through one of Cordelia's fashion magazines while sitting on top of the check-out counter cross-legged, a pile of just cleaned and honed archaic weaponry beside her.

David Nabbit looked away from the half-empty weapons cabinet, and answered, "Not really. We've talked about it, but Gwen's worried about transferring her condition to them if we do. Plus, we don't know how she'd be affected while pregnant with that chip."

"Why don't you go see Lorne," Cordelia suggested from where she sat playing Bejeweled 2 Deluxe on the main office computer. "He could probably tell you if it's a good idea or not. Although, I'd be kinda cool to have little mini electro boys and girls running around if it did transfer."

"Lorne…that's the karaoke singing demon that reads souls, right," the multi-billionaire asked.

"Yep."

Nodding, David said, "We'll do that."

Just then, a chorus of female laughter could be heard coming from the courtyard. All within the hotel lobby stopped what they were doing to gaze at the entryway. They saw as a group of four well-dressed women entered, followed by a frazzled-looking Wesley.

David's face immediately lit up. Quickly walking towards the group, he called out joyfully, "Gwen!"

A thin woman with mid-length wavy dark hair and equally dark eyes looked towards David, grinned, then sprinted over to the man to throw her arms around him enthusiastically. Grinning, he returned the hug, before kissing his wife soundly. Hearing catcalls behind her, Gwen – without letting go of David – lifted one gloved hand, and flipped off the women. Uproarious laughter broke out.

Buffy shook her head, then looked at the frail-seeming woman that had wrapped herself around Wesley, and called out, "Good to have you back, Fred."

Turning her adoring gaze from Wesley, the Texan smiled brilliantly at Buffy while saying cheerfully, "It's good to be back!"

"I'll bet," Cordelia said as she stood up and went over to the couple to give the Texan a hug. Once she had done that, she turned to one of the two remaining women, and said, "Bethany, I'm glad you could make it."

Smirking, the pale brown shoulder-length haired woman said in a northeastern accented voice, "When I got your message, I just 'ad ta come. Plus, it gave me tha chance ta come see ya."

Laughing in delight, the Seer impulsively hugged her long-time friend.

Shaking her head, the remaining woman – with very short black hair and long lean legs wearing extremely tight clothes – strolled over to Buffy and casually leaned against the counter beside the Slayer – who was absently rubbing her neck over Angel's bite-mark –. Placing the magazine down, the Slayer leaned one elbow on her knee and her head on her hand. Gazing at the Immortal woman beside her, Buffy commented, "Didn't expect to see you here, Amanda. I'm guessing you're the "friend" David talked about who was helping Gwen out?"

The Immortal thief smiled serenely, her eyes knowing as she gazed up at Buffy. Rhetorically, she said then explained, "Where else would I be? I have nothing better to do while Duncan's being a recluse. Doesn't help that Methos alone knows where the Scott's run off to, and isn't telling."

Buffy snorted, before saying, "He's probably doing it just to bug you. I think he's still miffed about that prank you pulled on him last year."

Amanda rolled her eyes, then said exasperatingly, "How was I to know that that statue was from one of his late wives? I didn't harm the damn thing, and returned it undamaged! I think I was being very generous about the whole thing."

"Methos is Methos, Amanda," Buffy said giggling. "You never quite know what to expect from him."

Laughing softly, the older Immortal woman said in firm agreement, "Got that right!"

Buffy joined in the laughter while grabbing her vibrating cell phone from her belt. Flipping it open, she answered it, saying, "Yeah? (pause, her expression softening) Hey, honey. What'd'ya need? (pause) Oh, the ruckus is Wes returning with the ones he brought back from the airport. (pause) Fred, Gwen, Bethany, and Amanda. (pause) Amanda came with Gwen, hon. (pause) Sure. Give me a min, and I'll get everyone up there. (pause) Okay, bye."

Off of Amanda's inquiring look, Buffy said, "Wesley's told you how Angel's hurt?" The Immortal thief nodded. "Well, that means he's stuck in bed for three weeks. According to the doctor: he can't move at all, or risk setting back the time of his healing. And it's only that long 'cause I'm giving him my blood twice-a-day, otherwise it'd be three months!"

"You must be extremely tired," Amanda observed with some concern.

Buffy closed her eyes, nodded tiredly, then reopened them. She admitted wearily, "Uhuh. I know it's helping him, but I'm totally wiped out…and this is only the second day!"

Turning to her side so that she didn't have to crane her neck anymore, Amanda said, "I'm guessing from what I overheard, Angel wants to see us?"

Buffy nodded again, then sat up straight – her look of weariness disappearing –, and called out, "Guys!" When everyone had stopped chatting and looked at her, she continued, "I just talked to Angel. He wants to speak to all of us. You know: explain what's happening and what we're doing."

Various gestures and sounds of understanding came from those assembled in the lobby before they started up the main stairway. As they did this, Buffy muttered softly something about not wanting to move, and uncrossed her legs…accidentally hitting the pile of weaponry beside her as she did so.

Instantly, the weapons began falling in a cacophony of sound—with Amanda leaping out of the way in the process. But before they could land on the floor, the artillery froze in mid-air, then rose back up onto the counter-top.

Swallowing heavily, Buffy went from looking at the weapons wide-eyed to gazing at Bethany. The Slayer croaked gratefully out of a suddenly dry throat, "Thanks!"

Smirking, the telekinetic nodded, then lead the way up the rest of the stairs.

LA: Wolfram & Hart, Lindsey's Office, 8:30am, Day 6

Lindsey McDonald was just beginning the paperwork he had put off all week when his intercom beeped. Scowling, he pressed the speaker button, and said in irritation, "What is it now?"

A female valley-girl accented voice said, "Mr. McDonald, there's a Mr. Park on the phone saying he has something to tell you. Something about a special project of yours?… Or was that special interest? I can't remember."

The Lawyer closed his eyes, counted to ten, then calmly ordered, "Harmony, send the call through."

"Right-o, Boss. Call coming through…now."

Lindsey released the intercom button to pick up the now ringing telephone, and asked impatiently, "I'm kind of busy, Gavin. What is it?"

The lower ranking lawyer wasted no time in getting to the point of the matter as he said, "I've just received word that there is heavy activity at the souled vampire's headquarters."

Leaning back in his seat, the Head of Special Projects inquired, "What kind of activity?"

"A group of women has just been brought to the building by the Watcher. My informant said that all were known to those within. My own research shows that our law firm has files on three of the four women. Two were possible future clientele until the souled vampire and Slayer got to them. The third woman works and resides within the headquarters. And the remaining one we know is Immortal, but nothing else."

"So Winifred Burkle has returned to LA," Lindsey said thoughtfully. Focusing back on the conversation at hand, the lawyer asked, "Anything else?"

"No, except that the Taraka Order are still keeping tight surveillance on the former hotel and its occupants to discover the names on the rest of their hit list that they haven't gotten yet."

Frowning, Lindsey said after a moment of thought, "Call the Taraka Order off, and give them their money. I don't want them to interfere in whatever's about to happen. They've done their job well enough, considering the instructions we were given…and find out who the Immortal woman is. We may need the knowledge in the future."

LA: Hyperion Hotel, Buffy and Angel's Room, 9pm, Day 6

Buffy sat curled up in a large chair, quietly watching Angel on the bed in their room, a fond smile upon her face. She tiredly leaned her head on one of the arms of the chair as she rubbed the bite mark on her neck. Only an hour ago she had given her husband her blood. She'd finally admitted to herself that that spot was getting quite tender—despite combined Immortal and Slayer healing, especially with another Immortal around to aggravate it. A quiet and tired giggle escaped the Slayer as her eyes settled on a well-patched up Mr. Gordo resting in the crook of Angel's left arm. She had impulsively placed the stuffed pig there once the souled vampire had fallen asleep not long after feeding.

The sudden sound of knocking caused Angel to stir for a moment, before settling again. A look of displeasure crossing her features, Buffy rose from her seat, and walked over to the door. Opening it, she saw Cordelia standing there.

In a voice laced with apology, the Seer said, "I know you really don't want to be disturbed right now, Buffy. But there's someone here to see you and Angel. He wouldn't take no for an answer either, and finally convinced me to come up here and at least give you a message. It's really weird too."

Her brow furrowing in concentration, Buffy leaned against the doorframe, and asked, "What's really weird?"

"This guy's message," Cordelia explained. "Here, let me just say it: 'It's time for the Swords to be revealed, and Angel's the last Bearer to receive his.'"

Buffy stood ramrod straight as she drew in breath sharply. Her eyes shone with understanding, shock, and sudden hope. Swiftly looking behind her to Angel's sleeping form, she quickly said to Cordelia, "Send him up." She turned back to the brown haired woman. "Believe me when I say it's a good thing he's here…for once."

Nodding, the Seer left. Closing the door, the Slayer went over to her husband, sat on the bed, and leaned over him. Softly, she called out, "Angel. Honey, wake up. We've got company coming."

Angel stirred again. He turned his head towards Buffy, and slowly opened his eyes. A faint loving smile traced his lips as he lifted one hand to touch his wife's face. The Slayer's smile matched his as she held the hand that had touched her face, before becoming serious.

She said, "Whistler's here, and he's finally brought your sword." Angel began to sit up suddenly, but was quickly stopped by his wife as she placed a firm hand on his chest. "Nahuh! You're not undoing the healing that I've put so much into, Angel."

The souled vampire looked away in discomfort at the reminder of his injured state, then frowned and turned his gaze to the stuffed pig. Sighing, Buffy plucked Mr. Gordo from Angel's side and returned it to its customary place on the top of the bookshelf. As she did this, there was once again a knock on the door. Without turning around, she called for the knocker to come in. As the door opened, she returned to Angel's side and sat on the bed. Both gazed expectantly at the one who entered.

The Messenger demon rolled his eyes as he saw the way the supernatural couple were looking at him, and said in sarcastic cheerfulness, then bitterness, "Hi, Whistler. Nice to see ya, Whistler. Where's my sword, Whistler? Geeze, I get no appreciation from you guys!"

Buffy snorted, then said, "Kinda hard to do that when whenever we see you, you're giving us orders."

"Well, appreciate me now," the immortal demon said meaningfully as he dropped his duffel bag heavily onto the bed, "because I come bearing a gift…as well as instructions from the Powers That Be."

He unzipped the duffel, pulled out a sheathed sword, and handed it to Buffy. The Slayer pulled the scabbard off of the weapon, and ran practiced fingers down the blade's finely crafted length while humming. An answering hum came from the sword. Nodding, she handed it to Angel.

The vampire studied it while the Slayer went and retrieved her own sword. As she settled back beside her husband, she watched as he blooded the weapon in the way of his people. Immediately, the metal blade shimmered with golden light and shifted, becoming crystal. The light then seeped slowly into the clear blade, making it a vibrant hue of yellow quartz.

Into the stillness of the moment, Whistler let out a whoosh of air, and said in an awed voice, "Doesn't matter how many times I see that, I still get chills." He shuddered, then said in a more normal tone, "Well, kid, you're the last to receive a Sword of Light. Your daughter got hers three days ago when I was passing through Seacouver."

Buffy looked up from studying Angel's sword, and asked with some concern, "How is she?"

Understanding the Slayer's apprehension was a mother's worry over her child, the Messenger answered, "She's fine, and adjusting to immortality nicely with Methos' help from what little I saw."

A relieved sigh escaped Buffy as she nodded and said, "That's good."

The demon murmured his agreement, before saying, "I guess I'd better get to the message part of my visit then."

"And what's the message," Angel asked, weariness in his voice.

"First off," Whistler said as he looked directly at Angel in assessment, then nodded decisively at what he saw, "you're to use that sword of yours to heal yourself. Second: twenty-four hours after you do that, you two and your supernatural guests need to make tracks to the Hellmouth. Some very bad shit's about to happen down there, and you'll be needed."

"Why twenty-four hours," Buffy asked, confused. "Shouldn't we head there immediately after we do the healing?"

"Technically: we should," Whistler admitted. "But realistically: we need to make sure the healing takes completely, 'cause of how severe the injury is. You could cause irrevocable damage if you move about too soon, Angel, so we gotta make sure it sticks."

Angel grimly nodded, then said, "I understand. Now, how do we go about healing me?"

"That's where I come in, honey," Buffy said as she brought her sword up and laid it beside Angel's on his stomach. "We use these and the power within us to do it. Like when me and Methos healed that girl that one time two years ago."

The vampire slowly nodded after several moments of recollection, and consented, "Alright, I get it. But you'll have to coach me through this since I was a little too busy to pay much attention to what you two were doing completely."

Buffy made a sound of understanding, and looked at Whistler, asking, "Could you stand outside our door and make sure no one bothers us until I call for you?"

The Messenger demon said, "Sure," and left the room with his duffel in hand, closing the door firmly behind himself.

After watching the door close, Buffy focused on Angel, and said instructively, "Okay, first off: what I'm about to explain is a lot easier to say than to do. Second: You're gonna be in a lot of pain when we're done, 'cause you'll finally be feeling your legs again. Third: you'll know we're doing this correctly when our swords go from their current colors to purple."

"Why's that," the souled vampire asked curiously.

"I'm not too sure," Buffy admitted. "Something to do with Elemental colors or some such thing. Willow and Tara explained it to me one time. Oh, something to know in the future, too: when all of these swords are together and being used at once, they'll be clear with a white light in them."

"Huh, kinda explains the title these things have," Angel commented.

"Swords of Light…" Buffy paused as she thought that over, then laughed, saying in agreement, "Yeah, it does." She grew serious. "Alright, enough goofing around, let's get this done so we can head to Sunnydale as soon as possible."

The Slayer leaned over the vampire and began to quietly whisper instructions. After several minutes of this, she laid down beside her husband, their swords crossed at the hilt over his stomach. Buffy laid her head on Angel's shoulder, and a leg over the vampire's. Both closed their eyes in concentration. Almost immediately the swords went from cerulean and golden to amethyst, as a silver-white light began to shine about their bodies. The light shifted, taking form as it rose, revealing two beings kneeling before their physical forms. The Slayer's spirit was filled with lightning sparks giving off a blue glimmer like sapphires, while the souled vampire's form was both terrifying and wondrous to behold. Formed of the purest essence of an angel with the terrible greatness of a pure demon, it shimmered with power barely checked.

The spirit forms reached out, and touched the vampire's body…and light exploded outward brighter and more purer than the sun in all its glory.

Hours passed and the sun rose from its slumber, before the light suddenly rushed inwards. A moment later, Angel screamed in absolute agony. Whistler did not even need Buffy's shout to come running into the room and aid in holding down the writhing vampire.

LA: Hyperion Hotel, Buffy and Angel's Room, 4:20pm, Day 7

Chatter filled the room as the Slayer rummaged through the closet, looking for a particular sweater. Amanda stood curiously by Buffy, commenting on this or that piece of apparel that caught her eye. By the bed, David and Gwen stood arm-in-arm talking to Angel as he lounged against the headboard. Upon a loveseat in another part of the room, Fred and Cordelia sat talking and making plans.

Whistler and Wesley walked into the room, the Watcher saying, "Everyone's luggage is in Angel's car but Buffy's."

"I'm almost done," said person commented distractedly as she at last found the correct sweater. Quickly, the Slayer folded the item, placed it in her suitcase, and closed and locked the carrying case. Placing the luggage at the door, she said, "I'll take it out with me when we leave."

The Watcher nodded, clapped his hands together, and said, "Everyone, could I have your undivided attention?" When all within the room were looking at him, he continued, "There's something I would like to do, and have all of you witness."

"What's that, Wes," Cordelia asked curiously.

Without saying a word, Wesley went and stood in front of Fred, knelt, and took her hands in his. Drawing in a deep breath to steady himself, he said, "Winifred Burkle, we have been a couple for some years now." He took a small something out of one of his pockets. "And I would be honored if you would be my wife." He presented the object in his hands for all to see. "Will you marry me?"

Fred stared in startlement at the ring Wesley held out to her. After several seconds, she turned her gaze to the man who held the ring…and slowly grinned in delight and wonder. Her voice expressing her growing excitement, she exclaimed, "Yes! Of course I'll marry you!"

Clapping and cheers were heard all around as the Watcher placed the ring on his now fiancé's hand. The moment this was done, Fred lunged forward, and hugged the man she would marry while laughing with joy.

"About time you two lovebirds decided to get hitched," Cordelia said smugly as she lounged back in the loveseat.

"You're one to talk, Cordy," Buffy called out. "You've been seeing Gunn longer than these two have been together. I'm still waiting for a wedding invite!"

The half-demon blushed furiously, and was about to make a comeback remark, when her face completely drained of color as her eyes widened and her body stiffened. A sharp indrawn breath was all that was heard in the sudden silence.

Taking a hesitant step forward, the Slayer asked, "Cordelia?"

The Seer snapped her head back as her eyes slammed shut. Grabbing at her head, she screamed a blood-curdling shriek. At the same moment, Whistler reeled forward, gasping as he grabbed a nearby chair to remain standing.

Both were in the throes of the same vision.

A sunlit parking lot.
A young girl of eleven with a curiously formed necklace.
Demons beyond count.
Another demon commanding them to take the girl.
People from Sunnydale fighting against the demon horde.
Darkness.
A voice reciting prophecy.

"Darkest night brought forth fairest light.
Now shall fairest light bring forth darkest night!"

Both Messenger and Seer broke out of the vision, shaken to their very core…though one more than the other. The Messenger collapsed to his knees in horror. In a ragged voice, he said the only thing that could possibly be said with the knowledge he possessed.

"Fuck, we're too late!"

Next Part: We're skipping Seacouver to head straight back to Sunnydale. 'Cause, despite what's happening over there, there's not much action going on at the moment. Believe me, all we'd see them doing would be twiddling their thumbs and passing out drinks, going: "What're we gonna do now?" On the other hand: the Sunnydale crew's just about ready to have a nervous breakdown...and with good reason!

ATTENTION: I've noticed a few little instances in which the characters mention some unknown event in brief detail at points throughout the story. I might do some short stories (aka: interludes) at some point concerning these – as well as from the first story if there are any (I haven't checked) –. What do you guys think? And if I do write them, which moments should I elaborate on? You guys get to decide!

Author's Responses to Reviewers
To El Chacal: That was a pretty interesting dream, I'll see what I can do...but don't make any guarantees. (the next day) Never mind, I just found a way to put your dream into this story (if you don't mind?). You've just given me the missing piece on how to work the O/W/T angle (when it finally comes fully forward) if you let me use it. So glad you enjoyed what I did with Oz, I was really worried about that. It was another one of those "The Muses are throwing me another surprise" moments. Sorry about Miss Kitty Fantastico, but you'll learn the reason why Blackgold has to be there instead...eventually. Remember: a Writer rarely ever writes anything without a reason (and even if they did, they soon find a way to make it fit!). I hope this part answered your questions about Angel! The line you quoted in your email: (smiling in pleased joy) That was the whole reason I wrote the flashback, to tell the truth. I was thinking about how to fully explain how Oz could be what he is now (as well as why he came back to Sunnydale), and I heard this voice saying that. I just had to put it in, 'cause it ties in so well with the whole theme of this story (as well as the title! (wink)).

To Harry2: I'm very pleased you like what I did with Oz. He's actually a pretty fun character to write (except when I have to pull out the thesaurus just to find the many different ways of saying "calm"). Heh, I think you'll be pleasantly surprised on what happens by the end of this story concerning Oz/Willow/Tara. Anya's baby: (EVIL grin) I do believe I will be called very malicious names once that storyline plays out (and I'll be cackling madly through each and every review about it)! Ripper-Giles: Yeah, he did have a moment, didn't he? Poor Giles, so many things going on, and some of them are almost ready to collide! Actually, this story is only the prelude to war (as you'll see when this story ends!).

To Zantac the Barbarian: Wow, two reviews at once! That made my day better (especially when it was a horrific one). Glad you liked the Game origins. My Methos Muse just went to town with that one. Werewolf: the Apocalypse: Haven't heard of that RPG. 'Course, I haven't been in the RPG loop for two years now! My Dungeon Master had to up and move to Missouri, and I haven't been able to find a group since then. (frowns) Anyway (as I told El Chacal a little while back), this is only a Buffy/Angel/Highlander crossover. So I'm not doing any further crossings than that. Maybe a Lord of the Rings or Harry Potter crossing some time in the future for some other tale not yet thought of (whenever I finally get the courage to do so), but not for this one. Anya's baby: (raises eyebrows) Umm...right. You'll learn that info when we head back to the sunny valley of California.

Until next time!
TU