Author's Note:

I've combined both Buffyverse shows into a single series that should be rated MATURE for some dialogue, sexual themes (non-graphic), and violence. I assume you've seen or read all five seasons of Angel and all seven seasons of Buffy. Only aired episodes are considered canon.

For the record, I don't have a beta reader and I've never done something like this before, so I want to offer my deepest appreciation to those of you who have taken the time to post reviews. (I consider adding me to any sort of favorites a comment, too.) Please keep the comments coming, and contact me through my email or Myspace page if you have anything else to add of ask.

Question of the day: Are shorter installments more often better than longer installments less often?

jayman

"Wait a minute," Angel said. "Do you even have the power to open those portals anymore?"

"No matter what your machine may have done to me, I shall always be able to return to my home."

"He meant since you lost your Qwa'ha Xahn," Spike said. They trudged along through ankle deep water, speaking in hushed tones because the echoes could carry for miles in this underground maze.

"You continue to apply meaning where there is none," Illyria said. "My priests are just that, worshippers. Not a container for my power, not even any sort of link to my power. Nothing but my slaves."

"Jeez," Spike said. "He was just asking. No need to take the man's…"

Connor suddenly held up his hand, and the group fell silent. Angel and Spike thought they heard someone splashing away from them into the distance, but they couldn't be sure. Connor held up two fingers, then pointed forwards and made a fist.

"What?" Spike asked quietly, looking at Angel to see if he'd understood.

Only Illyria seemed unconcerned with maintaining silence. "You will show yourselves," she said, her voice booming forth like the goddess she nearly was. She held Gunn's axe high over her head, spinning in a circle. "According to recognized rites of ascension, I stand before you with the weapon your leader, Charles Gunn, held to his last." She took a few steps forward. "He asked that I take you to my kingdom. He asked that I give you refuge from the armies of Hell."

Angel stood there, slack-jawed. No way this one was gonna work. He could tell by the look on Spike's face that he held the same opinion. Only Connor seemed awestruck. But given what happened with Jasmine there was no way to tell what the kid was really seeing.

"Would you ask that Gunn die unfulfilled?" Illyria yelled, frustration evident on her normally stone-like face. "Would you turn my oath into lies?"

As she fell finally silent they could all hear the splashing coming back towards them.

This was Gwen at her very limit. She looked like the Emperor right out of Star Wars. She was even standing at the top of a short flight of steps, the ruins of the attorney's offices behind her. Her hair billowed up around her shoulders, and she couldn't stop screaming.

Her fingertips were raining lightning down upon a group of some kind of demons. Maybe it was vampires. It didn't matter, at this point. Occasionally blasts would come from nowhere, either striking Gwen or nearby, leaving blinding circular arcs as they fizzled out along the wet pavement.

Streaking down from the very top of the clouds, Gwen was pulling more then three thousand amps straight out of the storm. A mailbox was hit with another near full-second strike, and the three of them standing together exploded like chickens with letters instead of feathers. Even though smoke poured off her target, Gwen was having a hard time stopping this.

This was Wolfram & Hart's fault. They must have summoned this storm. They must have taken away the sun. Now too much power coursed through her, and it was only a matter of time before she lost it and blew something important. Already her leathers were charring.

She'd have to time it perfectly, but the next time she got hit she would try to ground the entire stream back into the cloud it came from.

While most of the Potentials went with Buffy to blow off in Europe, Faith had known that there was still plenty of work to do. Buffy and her crew fought with customs and passports, and all the other necessary bits of documentation that a wanted felon couldn't necessarily provide, while Faith had simply hopped on another bus as Mrs. Principle Wood.

A few of the new Slayers, Ally, Julia, and Chao-Ahn, had gone to Cleveland with her. Either because they couldn't travel outside the country or because they preferred Faith's style, or maybe it's possible Chao-Ahn just didn't properly understand the options and would much rather have been sitting by a pool watching a nubile godling swim laps.

But the short of it was that Faith was desperately outnumbered and trying to defend the other Hellmouth with practically nothing. She'd told Xander as much a few minutes ago on the phone. At first, after what she'd seen in Sunnydale, it'd been easy. For months now it looked like the girls had been steadily gaining the upper hand. Then, a few days ago, it all changed.

They were on the defensive. Where before patrols had covered almost the entire city, now they were limited to strict corridors and no one was allowed to patrol alone. If they didn't get some help soon, Cleveland would fall. Xander knew that by the time Giles and the others decided what to do it would be too late. He also knew that there was no way he could stop Dawn from leaving. Might as well make the best of a bad situation.

There came a time in every child's life when they were finally ready to be an adult. And Xander knew that Buffy would never allow Dawn the chance. Dawn's moment had come and gone two years ago when she grabbed a sword to help Buffy fight off Willow's crazy summoned monster things. Thanks to the sisters being stuck in that pit Xander had another chance to save the day with his silver tongue.

So he figured that a few minutes would be plenty of time for him to allow Dawn before he started following her. If they could just get to the airport before she saw him, he could explain that he wasn't going to stop her. Xander would see Dawn safely into Angel's care, because otherwise Buffy would simply kill him, as if he wouldn't be in enough trouble for not telling her that Dawn was leaving. But after he dropped off the kid he could go to Cleveland and give them a hand until the real cavalry arrived.

As he crept along the hallway behind her, he heard Dawn let out a muffled screech ahead. He ran up to peek around the corner and saw the Immortal with his hand over Dawn's mouth, her legs off the floor and kicking wildly. He didn't even bother to try to restrain her tiny hands, which pulled and clawed at his perfect forearms. He backed through a door nearby, kicking it shut with his foot.

There was no way the Immortal would ever hurt Buffy's little sister. Especially not with Buffy downstairs. Those two had never come to blows, but if their exercises were any indication Buffy would mop the floor with him.

Xander, however, didn't feel any particular reason to run in and challenge the Immortal to fisticuffs right now. Instead he hid behind a plant until the bronzed giant came back out and headed off.

Bethany heard the shredding of the metal doors but there was nothing she could do to stop it in time. Shoes in hand, she ran without hesitation to the other doors at the front, throwing one completely off its hinges as the demons stormed in behind her.

She was in a wide access hallway which had other one-way theater doors and lead to an outside exit. Nothing out there could be worse than what was already in here with her, so that's the way she went. She blew the next set of doors off, too, running through them as they spun out to either side.

She should have run out into a bright autumn day, but the sky was only that disconcerting blackness and instantly her socks were soaked. Dozens of different types of demons were having their way with whatever they could find. Some had humans, some had cars or light poles, and others seemed to be fighting each other.

Where was the Army? The Marines? Why were these things allowed to just run rampant? She couldn't make sense of it, but Bethany was pretty sure she knew who was involved. She felt herself beginning to sink into the personal darkness that meant something was about to change…

Spiked watched Angel, who was watching Illyria explain to Gunn's former gangsters why they should follow her, and where that might take them. There hadn't been any introductions yet; both groups seem unconcerned with such things right now.

"You know this bloke," Spike said, pointing to Angel. "No matter what the Blue Ox is telling you, it's the truth."

Angel nodded, but looked at Illyria.

"Gunn did not allow recourse for a decision. My only provision is that you are to be made safe."

"We have a place now where we are safe," the taller of the two said.

"You will take me there," Illyria said. "I shall round you up, and take you to my home. My cornucopia may have dried up but we will find a way to supply you."

"What the fuck is a cornucopia?" the short one asked.

"It's like a little wicker basket," Spike said, "that never, ever runs out of food. All kinds of bits in there, berries, grains…"

"It is not a basket," Illyria boomed. "The fields of Vahla ha'nesh once bloomed with eternal harvests. I was gone so long my armies fought over whether to keep waiting. Without my powers, I could not keep my armies alive."

"So the last folks you stuck in there all dried up?" Biggie asked.

"I shall provide," Illyria replied.

"You're not very good at keeping pets, love." Spike smirked at her, ignoring her glare.

Looking both ways, and wishing for eyes in new places, Xander crept out from behind the plant and over to the door. The Immortal was no spell caster, so there couldn't be anything more than a simple lock between Xander and Dawn. But it was enough to stymie his attempts to open the door.

"I don't know if you can hear me," Xander whispered, "but I'll be right back, Dawnie."

He thought he heard a muffled reply, but it didn't matter anyway. He started looking around for something he could use to pick the lock when he realized that he had absolutely no idea how to go about using it, let alone picking one that was centuries old.

Instead he grabbed the pot that held the plant he'd been hiding behind, and after two or three solid whacks the entire mechanism fell free. He rushed inside and saw that Dawn was bound and gagged, with the chains that linked her wrists hooked on a spike driven in the wall above her head.

He ran up to her and motioned for her to be quiet as he pulled off her gag.

"What the hell is happening?" she whispered.

"I don't know, but it seems like he really doesn't want you to leave," Xander said.

"So I should just show up at dinner and pretend nothing ever happened?" Dawn asked.

"No," Xander said. "We've got to get out of here as quick as possible."

"You mean you're coming with me?" Dawn asked.

Xander pulled out the confirmation number he'd printed from the computer. "Two tickets. They're not flying into Los Angeles, so we'll get to San Diego."

Dawn threw her arms around him, nearly crying with relief.

Bethany was still in the parking lot, not far from the doors she'd run out of. Her head felt like it had been microwaved, still sizzling as it throbbed. She wiped her nose, and her hand came away bloody. The nosebleed wasn't severe, but it still wasn't a good sign, especially since it had never happened before.

She was leaning up against the broken remains of an Acura. All around her were smears where the demons had been standing, and the car itself was shoved up against the building preventing any more from coming out. It looked like the humans had been crushed as well.

Bethany threw up, both palms pressed against the upside-down quarter panel, grimacing as the bile splashed onto her socks.

A few months ago she'd discovered she could fly, like some kind of reverse Spider-man. If she pulled just hard enough on something that wouldn't move and let herself go she could fling through the air. It was an exhilarating and intimidating method of travel, and not something she could really practice before today. But it was a hell of a lot better than walking through another crowd. She might have thought differently if she'd known about the dragon.

Ignoring the pain in her head, she set off to find the one man who might know what was happening.

Angel stepped forward, finally deciding to put an end to this discussion. "Just take us to see the rest of you. Let us present our case and they can all decide. Gunn must have told you about me."

"Gunn told us you turn evil sometimes," the short guy said.

"Devon," the tall one said, turning to his friend.

Angel's expression instantly melted as if he'd been stabbed. He wondered if he just went to sleep if he'd wake up in bed in his offices inside Wolfram & Hart. Maybe with another one of those chest-suckers attached, but no worse for wear.

"Who are you to decide for everybody?" Spike asked.

"Are you willing to give us your weapons?" Devon asked.

"Charles Gunn put this axe in my hand. It was his way of showing you that what I say is true. If you think you can take it from me…" Illyria started to step forward, but Spike grabbed her arm.

"Ok. Follow us." The taller of the two turned around and began leading them back down the tunnels. "I'm Eric. That's my brother, Devon."

"I'm Spike, the broody one behind us is Angel. The broody one in the shadows over there is Angel's son Connor. And the smurf is…"

Illyria's hand caught Spike full force in the larynx. He was chopped off his feet, falling with a sickening gargle back into the muck. His leather floated around him like a shroud as he lay there stunned.

"You do not call me that," Illyria said, looking down at him. "I was a god to your kind…"

"We've all heard the speeches," Angel said. "Let's just go." He stepped over Spike and turned the two gangsters back around. "Just go."

Connor pulled Spike to his feet as Illyria splashed off without another word.

"Can you talk?" Connor asked.

Spike let out a croak before shaking his head.

"You'll be fine in a few hours," Connor said, reassuringly.

Constantly along the way, the brothers had to warn of impending booby traps. It wasn't long before they arrived at the main camp. What looked like it had once been a train station was now a fortress, and it looked like they had everything they could possibly want except food.

"I'll go get Sin jinn." Devon ran off into the crowd.

Everyone had stopped what they were doing to stare at the newcomers, especially Illyria who made no attempt to conceal Gunn's bloody weapon. A basketball bounced off into the distance, forgotten mid-game. Nearby chess and checkers tables were empty as well.

It wasn't long before the new leader presented himself. He wasn't very tall, but big enough to be imposing to most people. He wore layers of clothes, each one specifically chosen for purpose and function, with no consideration for the overall effect.

"I'm St. John," he said, walking forward with his hand extended.

Illyria pressed Gunn's axe into it. "He wanted to make sure you were safe."

"That's Gunn," Sin jinn said.

"I will give you one hour to prepare and pack the things you wish to take with you. No one is forced to come, but there is a bank which we can better fortify, and another place inside where you and your people can be immune to what is going on."

"What are you offering us?" Sin jinn asked.

"Vahla ha'nesh," Illyria said. "My temple, which exists on another plane, and can only be accessed by me. I will seal the civilians inside, and the rest of you can help us fight."

"One hour," Sin jinn said, turning away. "We'll be ready."