In a candle lit room in the back of Ethan's costume store, a lone figure chants on his knees. He offers his prayers of supplication to Janus, the god of chaos in preparation for the wondrous things he has planned for nightfall. The next phase of his plan to spread his own bit of splendid disruption in the name of the ancient god of transitions required his blood as sacrifice. He prayed fervently and his palms began to bleed. He anointed his eyelids and his forehead while continuing to offer his prayers.

Across town in the basement of a derelict factory, Drusilla sat up from where she reclined on the plush pillows her William had stolen to ensure her comfort.

"Oh, the two-faced man has come to play," she murmured before pulling herself from her comfortable position. She clutched her doll in her arms after grabbing it from its resting place on the throw pillows. On unsteady feet, she wavered into the outer room where her prince sat amidst a staggering number of frustrating books. It had been a few days since she had fed properly even though her Spike had repeatedly brought her victims. Unfortunately, the voices in her head were warring with each other so loudly that she could not concentrate on anything else. Even blood had lost its appeal for the moment. Feeling lost and alone despite the overwhelming chaos in her mind, the vampire's eyes settled on her lover, protector, and companion for over a hundred years.

For a moment, Dru watched at Spike growled at the book before him. In a fit of temper, he flung the unhelpful text away from the table. It hit the floor with a loud thump and skidded through the dust to rest near the far wall. It found company with four other equally useless tombs that her dark prince had tossed in the past many hours.

At the table, Spike cussed and swept his arm across the surface of the table. All the books within reach fell to the floor with a clatter. The frustrated vampire suddenly slammed his forehead against the now empty wood as he continued to rant against the idiot books and their equally idiot authors.

A soft smile lifted on Dru's lips as she listened to her lover's increasingly vicious and violent ranting. His temper was truly a wonder to behold. Her interest in his power gave the lost vampire a momentary focus. The rioting voices in her head quieted for a few seconds as she reveled in the thought of her Spike. Drusilla knew that her dark knight was filled with passion and that he could not help but show it in his anger. He was trying so hard to cure her weakened body. It was obvious how much he loved her since his frustration at being unable to cure her seemed to have no boundaries.

Before her beloved one could injure himself in his anger, Drusilla called to him in a soft and vulnerable tone.

Instantly, the vibrating anger disappeared. Spike stood and turned towards his lover. He held out his arm and called her to him.

"Come 'er, Poodle," he coaxed.

The dark haired vampire slowly flowed towards him and took his hand. She snuggled into his embrace as a particularly loud voice began screaming in her head. Her eyes filled with tears as the voice filled her with insecurity.

"Do you love my insides? The parts you can't see?" she wondered aloud as the internal voice insisted that her knight did not love her enough to give her everything she needed.

"Eyeballs to entrails, my Sweet," he honestly replied before placing a soft kiss on her cheek. "That's why I have to keep searching for a cure. One of these damn books must hold the secret and once we have it, we will lay waste to this town. You will be strong again, luv."

Drusilla leaned against Spike and whispered into his ear. Her voice changed from vulnerable to more of a childish song.

"Don't worry. Everything's switching. Outside to inside," murmured Dru as she nipped at her lover's ear. "Choices and Chosen and gifts for your little lost lamb."

"Hmm, did my pet have a vision?" prodded Spike as he moved to follow Drusilla as she tiptoed from his reach. Drusilla may be unstable but her visions were normally helpful if her lover could interpret them properly.

His dark princess giggled as she slipped from his fingers but Spike smiled indulgently as he followed her wavering retreat with his own purposeful steps.

Drusilla suddenly frowned and stopped moving. "Do you know what I miss? Leeches," she muttered before shaking her head as if unsure why the thought had interrupted her play.

Although amused by Dru's random comment, the bleached blond needed to focus her ramblings back to something with promise.

"Come on, talk to Daddy," he prompted. "Choices and Chosen. You've said that a number of times now. It has importance, no? Who is choosing? Who are to be chosen? When will it happen, luv?"

Dru tried to shake the random thoughts from her head. She pulled roughly at her hair in hopes of loosening the now willfully hidden meaning free from the jumble. The stars were all grumbling to her in scattered tales that confused her and Miss Edith wasn't even able to help her pick which one was the proper story to embrace. Gently, Spike captured her hands and unwound her tangled hair from her grip so that she would not injure herself.

"Choices and Chosen," she repeated. "And mummy's the lamb and grace and gifts and feathers and how much do you love me?"

"More than unlife itself," Spike promised as he gently grasp Drusilla's upper arms as he tried to get her to focus on him instead of the sounds in her head.

"Does mummy know anymore?" prompted the vampire.

Dru's dark eyes met Spike's light ones. Clarity swam in their depths for a moment.

"Tomorrow," she replied evenly.

Spike frowned. Tomorrow was Halloween and every vampire knew that nothing interesting ever happened on the holiday. It was traditionally like the anti-demonic day. He scoffed and reminded Dru of this fact.

"No, no," she insisted as she shook her head so hard her long hair whipped about her face and tangled itself together. "Someone's come to change it all. Someone new. And my lovely prince will give me my gift. You promised."

Dru's eyes lost their clarity and Spike knew he had prodded all the information he could get from her as she started murmuring about it being time for Miss Edith's tea. Her lover swept her into his arms and carried her back to their bedroom.

"I'll fix Miss Edith a lovely spot of tea, pet," he promised as he carefully placed Dru back on their bed. "But you have to promise me that you will have a bit of something to eat."

Spike glanced towards the wall where the last victim he had brought her still hung in shackles. Although gagged, his pitiful whimpers could still be heard along with the helpless clinking of the heavy metal links that prevented his escape.

Dru gently rubbed her stomach.

"I have a grumbly in my tumbly," she whispered like a small child.

Spike took the four steps across the room and pulled the shackled captive free from the hook sunk high into the wall. He dragged the crying and shaking college student to the side of the bed and offered him to his lover.

"Then eat something, luv," he simply stated. "You need to keep up your strength until I can find the cure."

Dru nodded her promise to eat. Satisfied, Spike stomped from the room and back to the piles of books. When he left, Drusilla's face shifted. Her yellow eyes narrowed and she pulled the now hysterical man towards her face. She stared into his frightened eyes for a moment. Unexpectedly, her demonic visage faded. Her lower lip protruded as she pouted.

"Pussy cat will not allow me to play if I visit her with blood on my dress," she whined before she dropped the man to the floor. She curled into a ball on the bed as the momentarily reprieved captive wiggled his way across the dirty floor to force himself into the darkness of the far corner behind some long discarded refuse. He cowered in the filth as he listened hopelessly to the crazy vampire on the bed mumble repeatedly about choices, chosen, and lambs living with wolves. Silently, he prayed to God that someone or something would save him from his inevitable death at the hand of these horrible monsters.

Willow bounced slightly on Buffy's bed as she stared towards the closet where Buffy was digging in the back. The blond had disappeared into the darkness quite a while ago and the teen could hear her friend shifting boxes in the back.

"So have you spoken with Angel lately?" Willow prodded as some miss-matched shoes flew from the closet followed by two pink sparkly shirts that Buffy had not worn since junior high. They were quickly followed by a cute white pair of sneakers and white socks with little blue trim at the ankle.

"BINGO!" the Slayer called as she crawled from the depth of her closet and held out her Hemery cheering uniform in the air in victory.

Willow's eyes grew bigger.

"No way," she insisted as she held up her bag with her Boo ghost costume. "I can so not wear that."

Buffy sighed and sat on the bed beside her best friend.

"Don't you want to get Xander's attention?" she reminded her shy friend. The two girls had just spent the afternoon discussing how frustrated Willow was with Xander's inability to see her as potential date material. After Buffy listened with obvious support for over an hour to Willow's ever increasing frustration, Willow had decided it was only fair to try to coax Buffy into sharing her current romantic feelings. It was why she had brought up Angel. Buffy's blatant choice to ignore her best friend's attempt at a Slayer love life inquiry was not missed by the studious teen. Her shoulders slumped slightly. It bothered Willow that Buffy seemed to have abandoned all interest in the normal parts of being a teenage girl.

"No matter what I do, he isn't going to see me," she complained in response.

Buffy pursed her lips and held out the cheering uniform.

"There is no way he wouldn't notice you in this, Wills."

Willow shook her head and insisted that the costume just wasn't her.

"That's the idea. Remember, you told me Halloween was all about being what you aren't."

Buffy held out her old cheering skirt and vest and waved them at her friend. "Look, Halloween is the night that not you IS you, but not YOU. Ya know?"

Reluctantly, Willow took the uniform from her companion. She nervously chewed on the corner of her lower lip as she stared at the clothes. She sighed and agreed. Buffy grabbed the little white sneakers and blue trimmed socks and added them to the pile in Willow's arms. Buffy offered her a grin that clearly said she was happy that she won the argument. For that smile alone, Willow decided it was worth it to try on the skirt and vest even if she had no intention of leaving Buffy's house in it. After returning Buffy's smile with one of her own, Willow slipped from the room to change in the bathroom.

With Willow gone, Buffy pulled her own costume from its place in the front of her closet. The blonde quickly slipped off her jeans and sweater. Standing in the middle of her room in white cotton underwear and matching bra, the Slayer held the white material against her chest for a moment before slipping the tunic over her head. The soft cotton fit loosely over her body allowing only the slightest hint of her curves. Over the tunic, she cinched a gold braided rope the slightly tapered the fit of the knee length dress at her waist. The golden belt matched the delicate trim at the hem, collar and half length sleeve cuffs. It also matched the headdress that Buffy placed over her still shortened hair. The braided gold circlet rested just above her forehead along her hairline and had the tiniest scroll work of feathers on the sides of her head.

Quickly, Buffy grabbed the simple white sandals she had decided to wear with the costume. After slipping them onto her feet, she grabbed the two golden bracers that fit on her forearms. She had a bit of a difficult time fitting the right one in place since she had to use her oft hand to hook the two buckles but she had already moved onto the golden breastplate by the time Willow nervously slid back into her room. After the unadorned breastplate was cinched in the back with buckles, Buffy slid into the final accessory. With Willow's timely aid, elaborate white wings made from real feathers attached to her shoulders and snapped into place with hooks on the back buckles of her chest armor.

The red head stepped back to admire the full affect of Buffy's heavenly costume.

"Wow," Willow murmured in amazement. "You look every bit the righteous angel and warrior for God."

Buffy smiled wistfully for a moment before her own eyes lit with excitement. She grasp her friend's hands and pulled them away from their position covering Willow's chest.

"You look incredible," complimented the blonde which only made the red head smile more nervously. She absently pulled at the bottom of the very short cheering uniform. The flirty white skirt with blue accent trim and the white vest with Hemery High across the bust line in matching blue truly was flattering for the self conscious teen.

"All you need..." Buffy started as she dipped back into the darkness of her closet. From the top shelf, she pulled a small set of white and blue shaker pom poms.

Buffy tossed the final accessory towards her friend and grinned.

"You're a dish. Xander is totally gonna go nonverbal."

Willow scrunched her face up skeptically. She somehow doubted that just a costume would make that much of a difference with her best friend. Fleetingly, she wondered if dancing naked in his bedroom would even work. She grabbed her ghost costume and pulled it from the bag. In turn, Buffy pulled the sheet from her hand and scolded her once more.

"It's not going to make a difference," Willow whined.

"Then so what? Maybe you'll catch the eye of some other guy."

"But Xander..."

Buffy interrupted her friend's attempt at stressing her hopeless feelings. Although she didn't want to push Willow to give up on her affections for Xander, she knew there were other boys who had to want a cute, smart, and slightly babble-prone girlfriend. Remembering Oz's comment of possible interest just made it easier for the teen to prompt her friend to consider other opportunities.

"Look, if Xander can't appreciate the hotness that is you, maybe you need to look for other nummies of the male variety. You deserve some happy luvin."

Before Buffy could force her agreement, the doorbell sounded. Expecting it to be Xander, Buffy scampered from her room and down the steps. She whipped open the door to reveal her friend in his second hand fatigues and toting his plastic toy gun. Her friend saluted her with the toy with a goofy grin on his face.

"Private Harris reporting for..." he started before lowering his arm and staring at Buffy in her elaborate angel costume. "Wow! You look incredible, Buffster. The creepy costume guy was right. You rock the feathers and halo look."

Buffy smiled at the compliment even though she didn't feel very pure or angelic lately. She stepped back to allow her friend to enter the house.

"If you like my costume, wait 'til you see..." Buffy started only to be disappointed when Willow came down the stairs wearing her Boo sheet costume.

"Casper," the Slayer finished in a tone that clearly showed her annoyance at Willow having covered up the attractive cheering uniform. She could still see her old cheering sneakers peeking out of the bottom of the ghost sheet so she knew Willow was just hiding the attractive costume under her shapeless white ghost.

"Hey, Will!" greeted Xander enthusiastically. "That's a fine Boo you got there."

Willow waved self consciously while Buffy just glared at her in frustration. The blond was beginning to suspect that her friend was just hopeless.

Xander turned his attention back to the Slayer.

"You should have gotten a sword to go with your costume," he mentioned. "Or maybe you could just use one of your real one. Make your angelic warrior complete."

"Oh no," Willow answered before Buffy could reply. Despite her covered face, her voice easily conveyed the tone she often took when explaining things to Xander. "I think she looks like the Archangel Uriel. She doesn't need a real sword. Uriel manifested a sword of judgment in his right hand and wielded soul magic in his left. The Biblical Apocrypha described him as not only the regent of the sun but also holder of the keys to the Pit. He is believed to the be the angel of death that swept through Egypt killing the first born sons. He passed over the Jewish homes who had marked their homes with lambs blood."

Willow happily would have continued if her friend hadn't stopped her tangent.

"Um, Will, I thought Halloween was all about the fun and candy, not for, you know, books and stuff," Harris complained since he really wasn't interested in a philosophical education on archangel job descriptions. He had just thought Buffy needed a sword cause it would look cool.

Buffy rolled her eyes and reminded her friends that they were going to be late getting to the school at this rate and that all the well behaved kids would be gone. Lightly bickering about the merits of little hooligans versus well behaved munchkins, the three friends trooped from Buffy's home and

headed towards the school.

In the darkness of his costume shop's backroom, Ethan Rayne chanted once more before the clay statue of Janus. He offered fealty and prayed for the chaos of change to sweep over Sunnydale.

Across town, Drusilla squealed in rapture. She prodded at her dark prince to take her outside immediately. She grabbed onto his arm and attempted to drag him towards one of the factory exits. The bleach blond vampire easily slowed her progress by dragging his feet a bit. Although she created him, Dru's physical prowess did not match her knights. It was a fine thing though because he did not have her psychic abilities or thrall. When she was healthy, the duo made for a truly powerful pair. Aware of the time, Spike timed his steps so that they exited the run down industrial building into evening shadows.

In a nearby residential district, the sun had officially set and safety night for trick or treat was slowly coming to an end. Willow and Xander called for one last house before heading back to the school. In the yard near the house, Buffy leaned against a white picket fence and watched her friends attempt to herd their sugar charged little hooligans in the direction of the street. She felt a pang in her chest as she realized how much she missed simple fun like wearing a cute costume and begging neighbors for candy.

All across Sunnydale, magic swirled and rush forward like an invisible tidal wave of transition and chaos. Ethan had opened the door and the magical power of his ancient god swept over the streets.

The pain in Buffy's chest tightened and she shivered. Her eyes fell shut and she groaned as she swayed slightly.

Chaos was born as all the children wearing costumes that were purchased at Ethan's suddenly shifted into the real life representations of their attire. Miniature ghouls and goblins were suddenly released on the unsuspecting town. Little girls transformed into fairies and butterflies and spoiled princesses. Little boys became demons and firemen and aliens. Screams cut across the darkness.

Gasping for breath, Willow fell to the ground only to rise from her body. She stepped away from her fallen form dressed as the cheerleader she wore under her sheet. Frightened at seeing her body lying in the grass, she screamed and rushed into the street. In her panic, she passed through Xander who had just opened his eyes and raised his no longer toy gun. The now real M-16 settled against the soldier's shoulder like it belonged there. He immediately swung around and aimed at Willow. He was confused and wary of threat. The soldier did not recognize his friend.

Unfortunately, Willow did not recognize him either.

"Oh... my... god!" the red head screeched with a perfect valley girl inflection. "Like, point that somewhere else, buddy!"

"What the hell is going on here," the soldier demanded as he began scanning the street for potential threats. He had a number to choose since there were miniature monsters running everywhere.

"How should I know," the cheerleader pouted as her eyes filled with tears and her lip wobbled.

"Look, lady, I suggest you find cover."

The soldier shifted to move down the street towards where he heard screaming and sirens.

"No, wait!" the cheerleader cried as her possible protection tried to leave her behind. She attempted to get in his way and the fatigued man walked right through her. They both reared back in horror. The not quite Willow squealed again and the not quite Xander pointed his weapon at her.

"What are you?" the army man demanded but the girl had no answer. She didn't understand who she was, how she got there or why she was non-corporal.

"I don't know," the teen cried before suddenly screaming and pointing down the street.

The soldier's eyes followed her gesture. They flew wide in disbelief.

"Jesus H. Christ!" he swore as a winged figure with a flaming sword swung the glowing blade through the body of a tiny demon. The soldier and cheerleader watched in horror as the tiny body seemed to split in two. Two versions of the same small monster stood side by side. The tiny demon shimmered with flames. It screamed and erupted into dust as the costumed child shattered the darkness with its own terrified bellow. The child huddled on the ground in a ball of petrified fear.

Swallowing his own terror, the soldier fired his weapon on the glowing figure whose dark eyes had swiveled to focus on the infantryman and the cheerleader. The figures left hand glowed and the bullets seemed to imbed in a glowing shield around the winged figure.

"We gotta bug outta here," the soldier warned his companion when he realized his weapon had no effect on the incoming glowing terror. The soldier fired his weapon one more time at the approaching figure before turning and sprinting from the street and into someone's front yard.

"Wait for me!" cried the red haired cheerleader as she too dodged bushes and trees while following the retreating soldier's back into the darkness. They fled around the house, through the backyard and down two blocks worth of alley before they realized that the glowing figure was not following them.

Luckily for the fleeing duo, the winged figure had forgone chasing them in favor of attacking the next possessed child on the street. With a purpose born of righteous fury, the Angel destroyed the demon and left the young boy crying at her feet. Hovering easily over the cowering kid, the Warrior of God moved forward to eradicate the evil that defiled her Lord's kingdom.

Now three blocks away, the soldier skidded from the alley and into a poorly lit street only to run into a beautiful brunette in a skin tight cat costume. The cat girl screamed and beat at the soldier in a panic. Her bunny clad companion squeaked once but immediately fell silent when the soldier wrapped his hand over her friend's mouth. He hissed at them to shut up as the cheerleader reached their side.

Irked at being manhandled by Xander, Cordelia scratched his arm and bit the fleshy hand still over her mouth.

"Fucking Hell!" the soldier cussed as he drew back from the pissy young woman. "Why'd you do that?"

"You keep your grubby Xander paws to yourself," Cordy ordered as she stepped away from the confused soldier. She placed her hands on her hips in a classic Queen C pose and reminded the young man that he was never to touch her again. Beside her, Anya glanced nervously over their shoulder to make sure that they were not about to be eaten by any of the miniature horrors that had been unleashed on the streets.

"Hey, wait," the red headed cheerleader interrupted. "You, like know him and stuff?"

Cordy turned to Willow with an expression of pure scorn.

"Well, duh," she snipped. "We might not be friends but I have known you both since kindergarten. Jeez, what is your malfunction, Willow?"

Anya nudged Cordy in the arm.

"I think they had whatever zapped the trick or treaters get them," the bunny costumed girl offered.

"Oh, great," whined Cordelia as she rolled her eyes.

She pointed at Xander.

"You are Xander Harris. You are not some rugged soldier-boy. You're just a geek in low cost costume."

She turned to Willow.

"And you're Willow Rosenberg a geek from Sunnydale not a cheerleader from..." Cordelia squinted to read the school name on her chest. "Hemery High."

"Oh, Hemery High... that's where Buffy used to go," Cordy added helpfully before she frowned. She glanced into the dark alley. "Where is Buffy?"

"Who's Buffy?" Willow and Xander questioned in unison.

"Oh brother," Cordelia muttered as she rolled her eyes.

"Let's get somewhere a bit safer," Anya prompted with a fearful glance over her shoulder when she heard some growling coming from down the poorly lit street.

"Yeah, yeah..." Cordy agreed as she grabbed a hold of Xander's arm. "The school is only two blocks down. With any luck, Mr. Giles will be in the library and we turn over Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Dummer to him."

Spike assisted Drusilla down a dimly lit street through a nice middle class residential neighborhood. Both vampires wore their demon guise so they could see better into darkness. Screams of frightened citizens and howls of unholy creatures filled the air with a festive touch that filled the two vampires with good cheer. It was like Demonic Christmas and Hellish Birthday all rolled into one chaotic package.

"Well, this is just... neat," the bleached blond observed in glee as miniature monsters ran wild in the streets. He and his companion laughed hysterically when four goblins pounced on a screaming middle-aged woman and started taking bites out of her flailing arms and legs. The terrified woman kicked herself free and scrambled out of the heap of tiny horned terrors. Climbing to her feet, she ran with a noticeable limp towards the two vampires. The four little demons howled in frustration as they shoved each other around while trying to get up.

As the woman tried to pass the fanged duo, Spike's arm shot out and grasped her by the neck.

"You're doin' it all wrong," he taunted the little monsters as he pulled the screaming woman towards his chest. With a joyful snarl, the vampire tore into her neck and guzzled her blood.

The four goblins stared silently in awe at the bloody faced demon as he dropped the now dead woman to the blacktop.

"Now that's how you feast," he chuckled in instruction to the pint sized demons before he turned away from the dead body and continued escorting Dru down the street as if nothing had happened.

Behind him, the four little goblins howled in excitement and scrambled into the darkness in search of other prey on which to practice their newly learned skill.

"BUFFY!" Angel shouted as he rushed down the street towards the glowing figure that he recognized as his beloved Slayer. The souled vampire had been wandering slowly back from the butcher's shop when the streets erupted into chaos. He immediately dropped his dinner and took off in search of Buffy. As he ran, he had fervently hoped that she was unaffected by whatever spell seemed to grip so many of the town residents. Turning down the next street, he was horrified to see the pretty blond cut down some small, unsuspecting victims of the strange magic. In his revulsion, he never realized that the glowing figure only killed the demonic part of the small child and not the actual person trapped in the spell. The vampire shouted at Buffy to stop what she was doing.

Unfazed by the vampire's order, the archangel continued on its holy mission. She had just destroyed the demon inhabiting a ten year old girl when Angel reach her glowing form. He grabbed the arm wielding the flaming sword.

"Buffy, you must stop," he ordered as he strained to keep the winged warrior from continuing her attacks.

The be-spelled being turned its eyes onto the creature who dared stop its holy mission.

"Release me, lesser being," it returned arrogantly.

When Angel failed to respond to its demand, the archangel swung its left hand across its body and struck the unprepared vampire in the chest. The blow lifted Angel from his feet. Startled and hurt, he released his grip and flew a number of feet before landing flat on his back in the middle of the street. Before he could even moan in pain, the holy warrior had slammed its sandal clad foot onto his chest and placed its flaming sword just shy of his square jaw. Pain rushed through his body and caused him to shudder. Opening his eyes and staring at the being who struck him, the vampire cringed from the flaming tip held unwavering just a few inches from his face.

"Buffy, please," he pleaded desperately. "You're under some kind of spell. Don't do this."

The glow in the archangel's eyes dimmed slightly as it narrowed its gaze upon the defeated vampire. It moved the blade from Angel's throat and knelt over him. Its left hand glowed for a moment where it hovered over his chest before it faded back to normal. The side of the archangel's lips quirked slightly into a smirk.

"You have been judged and cursed. You soul has already been torn from the Pit," it stated evenly before standing and removing its foot from Angel's chest.

Absently rubbing the badly bruised sore spot where the transformed Slayer struck him, Angel gingerly sat up. The vampire cringed in pain at the grinding of bone and muscle in his chest. He rightly estimated a number of his ribs were broken by the blow and he forced his body to still from movement. Instead, he stared up at the unyielding figure. The archangel turned to leave but Angel desperately clasp at its leg.

"Buffy, this isn't you," he tried to explain once more.

Eyes narrowed once more on the downed vampire that dared to touch it not once but twice. The winged being began to glow. Angel yelped and snatched back his hand from its hold on figure's ankle. The flesh was seared on the palm as if he had grabbed a blessed cross or immersed it in holy water.

"Why are you here?" the holy figure demanded as Angel cradled his injured hand against his chest and scrambled to his feet. Although the souled vampire normally towered over the petite Slayer, he stepped back nervously from the imposing figure before him.

"I'm trying to help," Angel stressed earnestly.

The archangel's eyes narrowed and its left hand glowed once more. In response, the spark in Angel's chest pulsed and he cried out in pain as his soul was judged by the pitiless being. He wavered on his feet and only avoided falling to his knees through sheer stubborn pride.

"You seek a prize," countered the holy warrior.

"I only want to help her... to keep her safe," Angel countered with a grimace. Although he desperately wanted to do nothing but aid Buffy, his heart ached with the thought that he had not been welcome to do so for so long. His frustration and sadness churned in his mind as his soul pulsed and ached in his chest.

The glow in the archangel's left hand dimmed and the grinding pain in the vampire's body lessened.

"Redemption is a journey not a destination," the holy figure intoned. "Perhaps you should find a map."

With that statement, the winged warrior turned and took flight into the darkness. Angel uselessly called after Buffy and tripped a few steps in the direction of the retreating figure. He stumbled and groaned. His body ached like he had been hit by a truck and his mind whirled in confusion. He was in no condition to chase down the spell ridden Slayer. Sighing hopelessly, the souled vampire turned in the opposite direction. He began limping towards Sunnydale High School. He hoped Giles was there and could help save Buffy from whatever had taken over her body.

Drusilla suddenly stopped walking and stared into the darkness. Pulled up short by the vampire on his arm, Spike turned to his companion. he saw nothing in the immediate area that should have caught her attention. There weren't even any little cursed pests trailing along this stretch of street.

"What's wrong, ducks?" the male asked his lover.

For a moment, she did not respond. Dru took a deep breath and tilted her head slightly to the side. She hummed a few notes then fell silent. Finally, his dark haired companion turned to face him. Her feral yellow eyes faded to humanity as her ridged forehead disappeared. Dru lifted her shaking hand and rested it against Spike's cheek. He closed his eyes at the gentle touch and his own demonic visage faded. He lifted a hand to cover the one resting on his face as he opened his eyes.

"You know that I love you, My Spike," Drusilla whispered softly to her lover. Her eyes were clear and for the moment the warring voices seemed to have quieted.

Spike grinned. It wasn't often that Dru was both clearheaded and tender in her touches but he loved when she was. His desire for affection clamored happily at the unexpected opportunity. He momentarily considered scooping her into his arms and rushing back to the factory.

"Of course, my ripe, wicked plum," he replied honestly.

"Do you remember your promises," she continued with a soft smile to acknowledge the surety of her companion's feelings.

"Always," assured her lover as a twinge of worry gripped his guts. The blond suddenly remembered a similar moment of fear during their sea voyage. He released his hand from over her fingers and shifted both his arms to hold Drusilla at her elbows. A sense of foreboding shivered up his spine as she spoke of his promises to her.

"What's wrong, Dru?" he voiced in concern. Blind terror nipped at his mind as he wondered what vision she had seen to bring this sudden change in behavior.

"I would have made a good nun," Drusilla stated a bit wistfully.

"No you wouldn't have, Pet," William countered. "You would have been bored out of your gourd. All that praying and singing and good deed doing. It's enough to give a vamp hives."

Drusilla giggled softly like he expected but her clarity didn't slip away from her. She didn't slide into a childish song or reminisce about eating good deed doers. Instead she leaned towards her companion and rested her head against his shoulder. She placed a feather-light kiss on his neck below his ear. For a moment, she remained in the safety of his arms. With an almost tired sigh, she then slowly drew back from the embrace.

"Your wealth lies here," Dru indicated as she pressed her hand against his chest before moving it to brush her fingers along the hair at his temple. "And here. In the spirit and imagination. You walk in worlds the others can't begin to imagine."

Spike shuddered slightly and closed his eyes as Dru mimicked the very words she whispered to him in seduction on the night he was turned. He remembered the pain and despair that had driven him to hide in the dark that fateful night. He opened his eyes as panic began to build.

"Let's get you home, luv," he stated as he attempted to gather Drusilla back into his arms and flee towards the factory. He wasn't sure what was about to happen but both his spirit and imagination were overwhelmingly filled with dread.

Dru shook her head and denied his request. Instead, she continued as if he had not said a word.

"I have always known what you wanted," she stated firmly as she stepped from his arms. She backed a few paces from her concerned lover. She lifted her hands to rest against her own heart. "Something glowing and glistening. Something..."

The vampire flung her arms wide as she turned suddenly to face the other direction.

"Effulgent," Drusilla cried at the same moment a glowing winged figure landed in front of her.

"BLOODY BUGGERING HELL!" screamed Spike as his body froze for a moment in terror at the brightly gleaming vision that landed within striking distance of his lover.

Despite the temporary blindness burned in his eyes from the archangel's sudden appearance, Spike launched himself at the threat. In his moment of frozen fear, he had recognized the warrior under the spelled disguise. It didn't matter which guise the fighter took, Daughter or Holy Warrior. Both meant death to his kind. He would not stand idly by while that death took Drusilla.

Spike's shoulder connected with the midsection of the archangel's form. The armored breastplate bruised the vampire and pain shot through his neck and arm. He felt the winged warrior shift back a half of step from the force of his unexpected attack, but before he could recover, a bone jarring blow crashed onto his back. The force of the strike drove him towards the ground. His arms and knees braced for impact but instead of reaching the blacktop, his downward movement stopped as the archangel's knee rose to crash into his face. The stunned vampire flipped backwards from the force of the blow and landed flat on his back much like his souled counterpart had landed earlier. Unlike Angel's blow to the chest, the double damage to Spike's back and head left him dazed and confused as he lay staring at the sky. He coughed up some of the blood he had previously drank as he sputtered to work through the mind numbing pain.

Fighting to focus his spinning vision, the fallen vampire watched the three wavering forms of his lover step between his prone body and the glowing figure of doom.

"Grace returned," Drusilla stated proudly as the winged warrior drew back her flaming sword and cleaved it through Drusilla's slight chest.

Spike screamed in denial as Drusilla's demon was ripped from her body. In his scattered vision, three figures became six for a moment. He tried to rise as the three demonic images burst into flame with a piercing wail. Shaking his head, William's vision cleared enough to see the now one burning form disintegrate to dust as the remaining body fell lifelessly to the ground.

"Dru... Dru... Dru..." the vampire cried as he scrambled on all fours towards her fallen body. Before he could reach her, the winged figure crouched and placed her glowing left hand on the woman's chest. The body convulsed twice while gaining a light just like the holy warrior's hand.

Ignoring his almost certain doom, Spike grabbed for the shaking body and dragged it towards him. Pain seared him as the glowing power scorched his skin. He ignored the holy burns as he collected Drusilla's still trembling body against his own. On shaking legs, he stood while cradling his lost lover against him.

The winged warrior mirrored the vampire's rise and scowled at the pale, smoldering figure clutching the still lightly glowing body against him. The archangel tilted its head ever so slightly and reached towards the staggering figure. Spike stumbled backwards and out of the holy being's reach. Its eyes narrowed as it took a step towards the retreating vampire and his precious treasure. He fell back another two steps and dodged clumsily to the right to avoid the swinging strike of the flaming sword.

"Piss off!" shouted the devastated vampire as he retreated even farther from the looming figure. Gathering Drusilla's body tightly against his chest, Spike did the only thing left to him. The vampire may be hot headed and impulsive but he wasn't a fool. He turned and fled.