A/N: Oh, wow! I can't believe I got this chapter together in time! It seems like I have no time at all to write lately! It depresses me! So, I hope you guys like this chapter! I know it's a little short compared to the usual, but alas, I gave Angel the perfect line to end with chappie with...

Random Disclaimer: (I don't own Buffy).

Angel: Okay, what's he doing here?

Travers: (affronted) Excuse me?

Buffy: (glares) You heard him.

Travers: I demand to be treated with respect!

Me: Hahahahahaha...ha...that's funny.

Angel: Seriously, AC what is he doing here?

Me: Oh, well, I have to make your life difficult somehow...

Angel: (deadpan) I wanted to kill myself the last chapter. I think my life is difficult enough, thank you.

Me: (eager earnestnss with a slightly dazed look in my eyes) I promise that I really do love you. Really. I do. A lot. Like, to the point of worship. I've already built a shrine...

Angel: That's creepy.

Helpless

Buffy landed hard on her back, having been flipped by her attacker. She struggled to squirm back to her feet, but her progress was halted when his body covered hers. Angel pinned her wrists beside her head and grinned down at her.

Oh, so he thought he'd won? Yeah, right…

Buffy smirked and flipped him over her head. Flipping back up to her feet, Buffy turned to face Angel once more. He was already on his feet, waiting for her. He seemed to hesitate for a moment before he lunged at her, throwing a wide punch that Buffy easily ducked. Angel tried a left hook, but Buffy blocked it, too.

They continued to dance like this. Ducking, blocking, weaving between the furniture—managing not to break a single thing. Being supernatural helped in this effort. Buffy spun on her heel, sending a roundhouse kick straight at Angel's head. At the last second, Angel managed to duck, but it didn't do him any good. Buffy had continued to spin downwards, sweeping his legs out from under him.

Seizing her opportunity, Buffy hurried over to the blanket and grabbed a baguette from the pre-birthday picnic dinner they'd shared. Clutching her makeshift weapon, Buffy rolled so that she was straddling Angel. She mimed staking him, and grinned at her victory.

"Gotcha!"

"Ugh, right in the heart," Angel sighed defeated. Letting her win was definitely worth it—she always ended up on top of him.

"Satisfied?" Buffy smiled.

Angel smirked; a playful light entered his eye. "No," he replied before reaching up to claim her lips.

Buffy smiled into the kiss as she ran her fingers through his hair. Angel's hands began roam, and Buffy couldn't fight a shiver of anticipation has his hand slipped under her shirt to caress her bare skin. Angel rolled on top of her, nipping playfully at her neck, causing a bubble of laughter to escape Buffy as she ran her hands down his back.

However, just when things were getting good, Buffy remembered something. "I've got to go," she said quickly, before closing her eyes in pleasure as Angel's hands began to wander lower.

"Funny," Angel murmured against her neck.

"I'm serious," Buffy breathed as he kissed down her neck.

"You don't sound too serious," Angel grinned smugly before capturing her lips, smothering any other form of protest.

"Your fault," Buffy said as soon as her lips were free to speak.

Angel sighed and buried his head in the crook of her neck. "What is more important than this?"

"At the moment?" Buffy replied with a smile. "Not much."

"Then why do you have to go?" Angel practically whined, causing Buffy to giggle.

"Because I have a huge test tomorrow," Buffy replied, although she couldn't help but add, "and because I have a date this weekend."

Angel's head snapped up. "What?"

"Yeah," Buffy grinned mischievously. It was so fun to tease him. "Older man, handsome—he likes it when I call him 'Daddy.'"

"Your father," Angel surmised with a smile.

Buffy nodded. "He's taking me to the ice show, which should be big fun. I could use a little fun."

"Well, I was trying—," Angel began, but Buffy abruptly cut him off with a kiss.

"Do you have to go now?" Angel stressed with a pout once he was able to speak.

Buffy debated. Truthfully, she did have a test tomorrow. It was a huge test over the Roman Empire and she had yet to study a minute for it. Plus, she wanted to get to school on time as Giles had something he wanted to talk about.

So, if she stayed with Angel tonight, she would not study at all, and she wouldn't get to school on time. It wasn't like she didn't wake up in time. In fact, she always woke up in time…she just didn't get out of bed in time. Angel was a morning person.

Decision made, Buffy grinned up at him. "I don't know," she said as she began to place little kisses on his neck. "I might be persuaded."

"I can do that."

Oh, boy could he.

Buffy ran into the library, making a rather dramatic entrance. Seeing both Giles and Wesley's disappointed looks, she looked down, praying that she wasn't blushing. Wesley's disappointment didn't really bother her too much…it was Giles' knowing look. He knew exactly why she was late. Awkward.

"Hey, Giles," Buffy laughed. "Wesley," she acknowledged. "Um, why are you guys so early?"

Wesley raised his eyebrows and looked at the clock. "It's eight o' clock," he pointed out.

"You were supposed to be here half an hour ago," Giles narrowed his eyes.

"Really? You sure that clock isn't running fast?" Buffy asked as she set her bag on the table and sat down across from Wesley. "Cause, you know, life is a marathon, not a sprint."

"Buffy," Giles chastened and Buffy looked at the table.

"Sorry."

"Yes, well, moving on," Wesley said, sounding all too proper. Any other time and Buffy would have teased him. "I received a call from the Watchers Council."

"What?" Buffy asked sharply, dropping all teasing notions and focusing on Wesley.

"As part of the conditions stated at the Review, you agreed to be put through a test," Wesley reminded her, glancing at Giles, whom Buffy noted looked extremely broody.

"What kind of test?" Buffy hesitated, glancing at Giles again, but he remained quiet.

"For centuries, there has been a certain rite of passage each Slayer has gone through on her eighteenth birthday," Wesley explained. "The Cruciamentum."

"The Crucia-what?" Buffy stammered. "Now, it may just be me—but doesn't that sound just a little foreboding?"

"It's a test designed to measure the cunning and the intelligence of a Slayer, her resourcefulness," Wesley continued on. "Strength and power are only physical assets of a Slayer. To see if a Slayer is truly competent, they are divested of their abilities and…well," Wesley hesitated.

"Thrown into the lion's den," Giles finished coldly. "Typically, the Watcher would inject a concoction of muscle relaxants and adrenaline suppressors unknowingly to their Slayer," he explained. "Once they had fully taken effect, the Watcher would send them to an old building that housed a formidable vampire, and then lock the door behind them."

"You'd throw me in a building with a vamp without my Slayer strength?" Buffy looked at Giles horrified.

"Of course not," Giles replied. "This test in an archaic exercise in cruelty and I want no part of it."

"And you don't have to," Wesley told the older Watcher. "However, I, being your Watcher," he glanced at Giles. "Technically, at least," he added before sitting up to his full height. "As your Watcher, I must administer the sedatives in order to prepare you for the test."

"I don't think so," Buffy shook her head. "Nuh uh, no way, not happening."

"You agreed to this," Wesley reminded her.

"I did not agree to be drugged and then thrown to the wolves!" Buffy argued hotly.

"You agreed to be put through a test," Wesley repeated, seemingly unfazed by her anger. "You agreed to a test. This is the test."

Buffy fumed silently for a moment. "When will they be here?"

"They're due to arrive tonight," Wesley explained. "Now, normally, you would be completely unaware of the test," he said as he produced a case from underneath the table. "But, considering your circumstances, the Council has agreed that it will be alright if you are aware."

"You're going to be all snobby and uptight again when they get here, aren't you?" Buffy raised her eyebrows. "You'll go back to the pinstripe suits and the uppity, uppity, attitude."

Wesley frowned slightly. "I was never snobby," he argued. "And though I will miss the comfort and versatility of my new wardrobe, yes, I will revert to the expected form," Wesley admitted.

Buffy's eyes narrowed as Wesley produced the syringe from the case, tapping it to release the air bubbles. "Did I mention I hate needles?" Buffy deadpanned.

"No," Wesley answered, looking at her expectantly.

Buffy hesitated. She looked at Giles, and then to Wesley. "Angel is going to be pissed."

Wesley winced. "Yes, well, let's tell him later," he offered nervously. "And preferably with you in front of me." Wesley took Buffy's proffered arm and injected the sedatives. "Perhaps then he won't throttle me."

Angel walked through the mansion on Crawford Street, surveying the completed massive space. All and all, he thought he'd done a pretty good job. The kitchen had been updated. The master suite had been refurbished, and he'd made sure to put the biggest shower he could find in the bathroom. He had plans for that shower. Plans that specifically revolved around him and Buffy being cocooned in a blanket of steam and having hot water pour down on them as they…

Angel shook his head, forcing himself to think of something else less distracting. Once again, he surveyed the room.

The main room had been decorated, and he'd been able to pull some stuff out of storage. Artifacts, paintings, weapons…he actually had room for a full-fledged weapons cabinet now. Angel surveyed his work again. Yep, he'd done well.

Ever since returning from London, he and Buffy had hardly spent a night a part. No one commented or said anything, but all the Scoobies knew that they were practically living together. And however great his apartment was…it was just a little small.

Hence, moving into the mansion.

The only minor tidbit was that Buffy didn't know yet. Of course, it was a surprise, so she wasn't supposed to know anyway. Angel checked his watch and noted that it was getting late. He was supposed to meet Buffy at the library.

Locking the door, Angel walked out to his car—another thing he'd gotten to pull out of storage. For a moment, Angel stopped to admire the Plymouth. It was a classy, shiny black convertible, and it had tons of horsepower under the hood. It was beautiful.

Admiring officially done, Angel slid into the driver's seat. He couldn't help but grin when he turned the key and heard the engine purr contentedly. Pulling out onto the street, Angel drove to the library, wondering what Buffy had to tell him.

When he parked outside the school five minutes later, he was still wondering what Buffy had to tell him. What could be so important that it required them to meet at the library? Giles and Wesley's cars were out front, and Angel recognized Oz's van, too. So, everyone was here…why?

Frowning slightly, Angel made his way into the school and to the library.

"Angel," Buffy smiled at him, but Angel knew that she was nervous about something. Subtle clues like shifting her weight from foot to foot every now and then, darting her eyes away from him for a moment…

"What's wrong?" Angel asked suspiciously, though caution seeped into his tone.

Buffy smiled nervously. "Why does something have to be wrong?"

"Buffy," Angel said seriously as he stole a glance throughout the room. It hadn't escaped his notice that everyone was watching them intently, and Angel really didn't want to make too much of a scene.

Buffy sighed and ran a hand through her hair. "Um, well, you see…"

"Quentin Travers is on his way," Wesley interrupted, cutting off Buffy's incoherent stammers.

"Why?" Angel asked lowly with a dangerous, protective glint in his eye as he stole a glance at Buffy.

"During the Review, Buffy agreed to undergo a test," Wesley explained. "It's time for that test."

"It's called the Cruciamentum," Giles elaborated with coldness in his tone that had nothing to do with Angel. "It's designed to test a Slayer's ingenuity and resourcefulness."

"Okay," Angel sighed, closing his eyes for a moment before looking at Buffy. "It's just a test," he said reassuringly. "You'll do fine."

When Buffy didn't meet his eyes, Angel frowned.

"I don't have my Slayer strength anymore," Buffy admitted quietly, glancing up at him quickly before looking away.

Now, Angel was even more worried. "What?"

"Buffy," Wesley murmured, his lips barely moving. "Help."

"Why would you need her help?" Angel's eyes narrowed as he observed his friend who was clad in a three-piece pinstripe suit—like what he'd worn before he'd come to Sunnydale. "What did you do?"

"Angel, don't kill him," Buffy spoke up, meeting his eyes and holding his gaze for the first time since he'd arrived. "I agreed."

"Agreed to what?" Angel asked lowly, frustrated that everyone was giving him one detail at a time.

"I-I took Buffy's Slayer abilities away," Wesley explained, speaking with more confidence than he felt. "The Watchers have developed a concoction of muscle relaxants and adrenaline suppressors that would make it seem as though the Slayer had no heightened abilities."

As Wesley had continued to speak, a low, resonating growl had begun to build in Angel's chest. "You what?" he snapped.

"Okay, this is example A," Buffy stepped forward toward Angel and hit him in the chest as hard as she could. "Ow," Buffy said empathetically as she shook her hand. "See?"

Angel looked at her blankly for a moment, stunned. He'd barely felt her punch. As the shock of Buffy without her Slayer strength wore off, Angel felt anger rise in his veins. Wesley had done this. The Watchers had done this. They'd made her defenseless. What chance did she stand against a vampire without her Slayer strength? Or her coordination?

"What exactly is this test?" Angel asked, masking his anger for a moment in an eerie calm that scared Wesley more than any amount of fury Angel could have unleashed.

"Essentially, Buffy is...um, locked inside a building…with a vampire worthy of her, um, abilities," Wesley answered nervously.

"Without her strength," Angel stated dangerously. "Defenseless," he continued as he took a threatening step forward toward Wesley. "You son of a—"

"Angel," Buffy planted herself between Angel and Wesley, placing a calming hand on Angel's chest to halt his advance on the nervous and scared Watcher. Angel wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close as if he were ready to sweep her into his arms and haul her out of the library at a moment's notice.

"Don't kill Wes," Buffy ordered softly, and Angel hated the fear he saw in her green eyes. This situation was scaring her just as much as it was him. "It's not his fault."

Angel glared at Wesley one more time before pursing his lips. "Fine."

Willow spoke up after a moment of tense silence. "Okay..."

"Now that it appears Wesley will stay in the land of the living," Xander picked up where his oldest best friend had left off. "When are the stuffy Watchers going to get here?"

"Mr. Travers!" Wesley suddenly beamed, moving forward to shake the man's hand as Xander, along with the Scoobies, watched the exchange with varying looks of displeasure. "How are you?"

"Fine, fine," Travers waved dismissively. "How is everything here?"

Wesley, doing his best stuffy, snobbish, Watcher-y persona replied confidently. "It's going as well as to be expected. Miss Summers has proven to be quite the challenge, but I believe we have made progress."

"Lovely!" Travers nodded affirmatively. "Good, good, and how is everything…else?" he asked lowering his voice, although no one missed the pointed glances he threw Angel and Giles.

"Nothing I have not been able to handle," Wesley replied subdued with a note of arrogant pride in his voice he knew was making Buffy's skin crawl. He thought he was proving to be a fairly decent actor.

"Wonderful," Travers praised. "Now," he said as he moved past Wesley and toward Buffy…or at least where he assumed Buffy to be. It appeared that Angelus was just as protective of the Slayer now as he was in London.

Buffy stepped out from behind Angel, sending him a disapproving glare. She might not have her Slayer strength anymore, but she wasn't made of glass. "Miss Summers," Travers greeted. "How are you feeling?"

"Like a million bucks," Buffy replied with a smile. "Typical human strength…really bad coordination—it's great."

Travers smile tightened. "Yes, well," he chuckled. "That is part of the Cruciamentum. We must see if you are truly as good as it appears on paper."

Everyone in the room glared at Travers, but the man didn't seem to notice. "Rupert, how's retirement?" Travers asked politely.

"Thrilling," Giles deadpanned.

Now that it seemed Travers was satisfied he'd exchanged enough pleasantries, he got down to business. "Now, I came here to set the conditions," he explained. "As I'm sure you already know, the Cruciamentum is usually a blind test, but considering the fact that Rupert would have told you about the test anyway, the Council saw no point in trying to keep it secret." Travers pressed his lips in a tight line of disapproval for a moment before continuing. "Seeing as how your circumstances will be different, I'm going to set a few ground rules."

"You are not to go looking for the location that currently houses your opponent," Travers said sternly. "Nor are you to send Angelus or Rupert or anyone else to go looking for it, is that clear?"

"Crystal," Buffy snapped.

Travers looked to Giles next. "You are forbidden to mention any knowledge of past Cruciamentums. Any clue or advice you give must only be for emotional support—nothing factually based. This must test her abilities, not ideas from others."

Giles didn't comment. He only glared at Travers until the man looked away.

Travers looked directly at Angel now, arrogant enough to look him in the eye and hold his gaze unflinchingly. "You cannot interfere in any capacity. If I learn that you do, the test is invalid and Miss Summers fails. Are we clear?"

Angel's eyes burned with a fiery hate. It was so blatantly clear on his face that Travers forced himself to stand tall and not to tremble—even if his adrenaline was pumping through his veins and he was fighting the urge to turn around and run for his life.

"Yeah," Angel finally spoke, though it was more akin to a snarl. "We're clear."

"Excellent."

"I'll kill him," Angel paced in front of the bed in his apartment. "I'll kill him."

Buffy sat on the bed silently, watching him pace. "You won't kill him."

"No," Angel admitted frustrated. "But I can sure as hell think about it."

"Angel, calm down," Buffy pleaded quietly. "Please?"

Hearing her tone, Angel halted his manic pacing and took a deep, unneeded breath. He sat down next to her on the bed and wrapped his arms around her. Buffy buried her head in his chest for a moment, her hand fisting in his shirt. "I'm scared, too," she told him softly. "I feel so helpless. I can't do anything anymore. I can't throw knives. I can't throw a punch. I'm weak."

"You're not weak," Angel argued gently. "You could never be weak."

"I don't know how I'm going to do this," Buffy admitted, and Angel could tell by her voice that she was getting teary.

"Hey, ssh," Angel consoled, hugging her tighter and placing a tender kiss in her hair. "You can do this. I know you can."

"But how?" Buffy questioned. "He'll be stronger than me, faster than me…"

"You will win," Angel cut her off. "You will," he repeated confidently for both their benefits.

Angel didn't doubt Buffy's ability. She was much cleverer than she gave herself credit for. Angel knew that. What Angel didn't like was the fact that he couldn't interfere without Buffy failing the test. Of course, it wasn't like he would have interfered in the first place—unless Buffy's life was threatened.

Which was exactly why Travers had warned him not to interfere; Travers knew that if at any point in the test it appeared as though Buffy were going to lose that Angel wouldn't hesitate to jump in and snap the vamp's neck. That's what Angel hated. Travers wanted Angel to sit back and watch Buffy die. Because that's what would happen if Buffy lost, she'd die.

Well, to hell with Travers' rules. Buffy wasn't going to die.

"I won't let anything happen to you," Angel assured her softly as he stroked her hair and kissed her temple. "Promise."

Okay, so, that's that! Angel is going to ignore Travers' little rule! But, the million dollar question is...in the end, will he be put into a situation where he has to? Hmm...how difficult to I want to make this Cruciamentum? What surprises could I have planned? (evil laugh)

Okay! So, quote from the AISHB sequel! This is from chapter 2!

"What is it with you and blondes?" -Cordy

Lots of love,

ArthursCamelot