Xander had never liked Angel. That was no secret. It was a dislike born equally out unreasonable envy over Buffy's affections and perfectly reasonable distrust of the creatures that had forced him to kill one of his best friends and which continued to terrorize his town. Naturally that dislike had intensified in recent months. He had watched as the girl he loved had sunk perilously close to depression and as the man he respected was almost shattered by the death of the computer teacher. He had watched from the sidelines as he always did. Now both those people were in danger and Willow (who was in the hospital because of Angel) had sent him with a message.
"Willow said to tell you" he began. Buffy looked at him expectantly, there was such despair in her eyes underneath the resolve. He just wanted her to be happy again. "That she's going to try the spell again."
It was so confusing. She had come here ready to kill him and now she might not have to. Now, she just needed to distract him, keep him busy long enough for Willow's spell to work. It would be tricky, yes, but she missed him so much. She just couldn't let it go if there was even a chance he could come back to her. She couldn't kill him. She let the sword that Whistler had given her slip from her grasp, and charged into the mansion.
He's clearly in the middle of some kind of ritual, but she doesn't stop to exchange pleasantries, she simply tackles him before he could get any further. They fight hand to hand and Buffy is glad. There's less chance of one of them killing the other that way. Behind her she hears Spike and Drusilla clawing at each other and out of the corner of her eye she sees Xander sneak off with Giles but she can't let anything distract her right now. She fights with everything she has and starts to drive him backwards into the courtyard when she suddenly remembers that it's still sunny outside. Panicking she stops herself midway through a kick that would have sent him flying out into the daylight. Her sudden change in momentum causes her to trip and she falls to the flagstones. Before she can move he's on top of her. He's so much bigger than she is; she could beat him in a stand-up fight but from this position she can't get him off of her. He holds her close in a parody of a lover's embrace.
"No weapons, no friends, no hope" he whispers, "take all that away and what's left?" Still hoping that Willow's spell will happen any second now, she looks him straight in the eyes. "Us" she says simply. He puts one hand on her face, then reaches the other around the back of her head, and still grinning he twists both hands in a sharp jerking motion.
Angel looks down at the girl at his feet and takes a moment to savour his victory before casually strolling over to Acathla and reaching for the sword. Before he can take hold of it, however, he doubles over in pain as he's hit in the chest with the metaphysical equivalent of a wrecking ball. There's a brief searing agony followed by a moment of blackness.
The first thing Angel sees when he opens his eyes is a hand. It's laid out on the floor as though it had been grasping at something. As he staggers to his feet he sees the rest of the body. Her eyes are wide open and staring and her neck is bent at an awkward angle. It's obvious from looking at her that she's dead. His shock is nowhere near as great as his confusion. Despite all his efforts to protect her he had always known something might happen to Buffy but why couldn't he remember what that something was? Perhaps they had been fighting something and he had been knocked in the head? But there's no one else around except for an ugly statue with a sword in its chest. Then, before he can think any further the memories come rushing back to him and he slumps to the floor is despair.