A/N: Wazzaaaaaap! Lol! Okay, and now that this '90s moment has passed, may I just say that it's good to be back! Special shout-out to Starway Man, greatest beta in the Eastern Hemisphere for all his contributions while juggling stacks of papers simultaneously; Theo, you rock! And a big thanks to everyone who reviewed, including: Dark Vizard447, ashes at midnight (love your stories!) Lilly Emerald, teamtiva, angelplusbuffyequals4ever, SwalLoWiNg DaNtE, Angellufy, Wolfram-and-Hart-Sauron, crazymel2008, Geoff, wingster55, David Fishwick, and Megagalvatron12. ( Bows down…I'm not worthy! I'm not worthy!) : )

Well, sorry about missing the September deadline. Been busy with life stuff. But I'm going to shoot for having the latest chapter up by Halloween Night. (Fitting, don't you think?) Remember, feedback is candy for the soul, and I am also available via instant message for any comments and suggestions. I get back to people really fast, usually. Well, get your popcorn ready, folks, take a breather, grab a soda pop and enjoy the newest chapter of…


Bring Me To Life - A Buffy the Vampire Slayer / Angel Crossover Event

Part 22 - Scratch the Surface


Los Angeles - The Hyperion Hotel

Approximately 4:30 a.m.


Cordelia Chase dreamt of fire.

A pillar of fire rising into the sky, built from the blood of murdered innocents on an LA skyscraper.

Around it, her bruised and battered friends - Lorne, Wesley and Gunn - desperately limped up to their feet, their attempts to stop the arrival of Armageddon having failed miserably.

Far below it, in a sewer, lay Angel, bleeding profusely, a knife lodged in his throat, choking him with his own blood. A fallen Champion.

Within it, the evil smile of the Beast, grinning with satisfaction at the morbid results of his murderous labors.

And moments later, above it…the Rain of Fire. A hail of flaming death falling from the skies, onto roofs, through cars with people, onto sidewalks with pedestrians. Debris and fireballs falling everywhere, the screams of people running for cover, the terrified pleas for help for those trapped underneath rubble.

She dreamt of Connor…panting and groaning as their bodies melded together in a carnal embrace that turned her stomach and made her want to vomit. She wanted to stop it, wanted to throw the boy off of her, not wanting any part of this semi-incestuous act - Angel's son grunting as he thrust inside her, the same boy whose diapers she'd changed less than a year ago. But she could not. It was as if her own body had completely shut her out. The lights were on, and she was home…but she might as well have been stuck in the panic room, because she wasn't able to do anything, except feel…everything.

She dreamt of Lilah…limping frantically down the hallways of the hotel to escape a bloodthirsty Angelus. The look of confusion on her face as Cordelia's own hand pinned her by the throat against the wall, the gasp of surprise and shock as the Seer's free hand plunged the bone knife created from the Beast's body deep into the lawyer's throat. Deep inside, Cordelia railed and screamed, trying to stop herself from committing the homicidal act, but could not. She had become a witness to her own act of murder, and all she could do was watch as Lilah's lifeless body tumbled to the ground.

At last, she managed to gain control of her body, dropping the blood-coated knife in horror, her hands warm and sticky with the blood from Lilah's jugular. Trembling, Cordelia tried to desperately wipe it away on her clothes, on the walls, on anything around her - only for the blood to slowly crawl back onto her hands, becoming even redder and stickier than before.

She looked up, and suddenly found herself staring into the cold, accusing eyes of Wesley. In his right hand, he held a bloody, crumbled dollar, one with a red-inked heart around the signed names of Lilah and Wesley.

A sob beginning to choke her, Cordelia turned pleading eyes to her old friend, her teammate. "Wesley… I didn't…it wasn't me! I couldn't stop it, I swear, I would never…please, you have to believe me! It wasn't me!"

Wesley's stare was neither forgiving nor understanding as he continued to squeeze the dollar, until the blood poured from his hand in a sickening stream of crimson.

"Impossible to wash off, isn't it?" a familiar female voice taunted her.

In horror, Cordelia looked down and saw Lilah's face, still turned sideways with that lifeless death stare. Then, a slow, knowing grin spread slowly on her face like spilled oil. "I should know."

And then the dead woman's pale face turned and leered up at her. "Speaking as one murderer to another."

Cordelia awoke with a scream as she bolted upright in her bed, wide-eyed and drenched in a cold sweat.

By now, she had changed into a pear of loose-fitting grey slacks and a tight forest-green tank top to sleep in. She had taken the hideous black gown her doppelganger had worn and promptly thrown it into the incinerator after she had gotten her bearings back, not wanting to see the gown for another minute longer as it served to remind her of what her body had done while possessed.

Clutching the covers close to her, Cordy's eyes darted around her darkened, empty room. Realizing that she was alone and that the nightmare was over, the Vision Girl took in deep gasps of breath, trying desperately to calm herself down.

The more that the horrifying images that she saw in her dreams flickered through her brain, the more Cordy regretted letting Angel convince her to sleep after the others had gone to bed. It had been a long day and night for everyone, and so they had all happily agreed to shuffle off to sleep after the trials and tribulations of the last 24 hours.

Cordelia had had her doubts, however; while her physical body had been awake for about the same amount of time, her mind felt as if she had been asleep for months. But not wanting to worry anyone, Cordelia had agreed to give sleep a shot.

It was a decision she had immediately regretted. It was one thing to suppress the horrifying memories of the last eight months when her body was commandeered by Jasmine and the Beastmaster while conscious. But there was no hiding from them in her sleep. Her subconscious wouldn't allow her to forget her...crimes.

Before she went to bed, Cordelia had asked Angel and Buffy to tell her the truth. Everything that had happened. And the two supernatural warriors had held nothing back when they'd told the Seer everything.

Skip's deception, Jasmine's plan, how Cordelia had been the central pawn in a grand scheme to destroy the world. And though they'd hurriedly assured Cordelia that none of it was her fault, deep in her heart, the brunette beauty felt much differently.

The world nearly ended…and it was all because of me. It was all my fault, Cordelia thought miserably, as her vision began to blur thanks to tears welling up in her eyes.

The traumatized young woman slid to the floor of her bedroom, pulling her knees under her chin as she curled into a ball and began to softly cry, the tears spilling with increasing frequency as Cordelia's sobs became all the harder despite her trying to keep quiet, for fear of waking the others.

Thousands of people were dead in the aftermath of Jasmine's big plan, and Cordelia could not stop blaming herself for her perceived part in it. In her mind, none of this would have happened if she had simply rebuffed that bastard Skip's offer on her birthday, or if she had been smart enough to ask more questions before she'd allowed herself to be infused with that alleged part-demon essence. Before she'd allowed herself to be taken to the Higher Planes.

But instead, she'd played the bimbo patsy to Jasmine's plans for world conquest, and now thousands of innocents had paid the ultimate price for that. She breathed a silent prayer for the departed souls of those who died in the last few weeks through her body's actions.

I'm sorry. So sorry. Please forgive me. It was my fault…it's all my fault...

Her friends…her family. Angel. Wesley. Lorne. Fred. Gunn. Connor. They were all she had, and she loved them all with her whole heart and soul…and she had betrayed them all, manipulated them, turned them against each other, and nearly gotten them all killed.

Connor…her heart broke at the thought of that poor boy, how the creatures inside her had warped his fragile mind, seduced him, nearly tainted his soul with darkness and death as they tainted hers. She had seen in the Higher Planes how hard Angel had worked to bridge the gap between him and his estranged son…and now that gap had only increased because of her seduction of the boy, and her manipulation of his father.

Angel…he was her hero. Her Champion. Stretching back to ancient times, Cordelia had learned during her summer sojourn Up There about the deep connection between Champions and their Seers. It was no different with them, as the vampire and the Vision Girl were bound by a deep, unbreakable bond that others might define as love, but only Angel and Cordelia could ever truly understand. He had helped turn a hopeless, broke wannabe-actress with only a high school diploma to her name into a hero in her own right.

Angel meant the world to her…and how had she repaid him? By playing with his mind, sleeping with his son, stealing his soul, terrorizing his city, and making his life a living hell.

Wesley…they had shared everything since high school, from a dance at her Senior Prom to that awkward kiss on Graduation Day, crusty donuts and stale coffee in the late night hours pouring over criminal records, police databases and ancient texts and many tequila shots at Caritas during Happy Hour as they fought alongside their ever-broody boss to save the world. She loved him like an older, nerdier brother…and how had she honored their friendship?

By killing his girlfriend. In cold blood.

Granted, Cordelia had never thought highly of Lilah, and she truly wished that Wesley had chosen a more…non-evil-bitch of a woman as his significant other. But even when the unscrupulous attorney had hired that demon to hack into her brain and hammer her with successive painful visions, Cordelia never would have killed her, as much as she would have very much liked to at the time.

But her desires changed nothing. Lilah Morgan was dead now, her remains decapitated, something Wesley had to do with his own two hands…and it all came down to being her fault.

Buffy, Willow…Xander. Only in retrospect did Cordelia realize how blessed she'd been back in high school to have such brave and unique people call her a friend, let her into their amazing and dangerous and exciting world, despite all the mean things she'd said to them and about them. And how had she shown her gratitude?

By trying to kill Willow when she had attempted to restore Angel's soul weeks ago.

By trying to kill Buffy's adorable little sister, and then Buffy herself during the soul spell that saved Cordelia's own life.

By cruelly mocking Xander…brave, stupid, loyal-to-the-end Xander…while possessed.

To add to the guilt, Angel and Buffy had relayed to her how the injuries Harris had sustained that left him a bleeding, bruised and bed-ridden mess had come about by his attempts to save her from a murderous Skip only moments before she woke up. Even after everything she'd said, after how they'd ended their short, but passionate relationship…Cordelia was astounded how that guy was still willing to die for her.

He almost died…because of me. He's lying in that bed right now, broken and hurting and bleeding. And it's all my fault. I'm the reason he's hurting so much.

A loud sob escaped her throat at the thought, as Cordelia's face fell into her hands. How could she ever look at him again? After all of this, how could she look any of the others in the eye ever again? What if they never truly forgave her? What if they looked at her the way that she and the other Scoobies had looked at Angel when he came back from Hell years ago, after all the torment and death that his psychopathic soulless alter-ego had bestowed upon them?

God help her, but Cordelia wanted to die. She wanted the earth to open up underneath her and swallow her down, never to be seen again. She wanted to disappear into nothingness, like she'd never existed. She wanted the heavens to part and a bolt of lightning to pass judgment upon her, strike her dead on the spot.

It was what Cordelia felt she deserved after everything that had happened.

Words of blame ran in a cruel mantra over and over in her mind. It's all my fault…all my fault…all my fault…all my fault…all my fault…all my fault…all my fault…all my-

"Cordy?" a male voice broke through the darkness, as her light flickered on…revealing a bruised, hunched-over Xander.

At the sight of him, Cordelia's hazel eyes widened as she quickly wiped away at her tears, which was making her mascara run. "Xander? W-what are you doing here?"

For a moment, the injured young man looked unsure as he shuffled nervously in the doorway. "I, uh…was headed to the kitchen downstairs. Wanted some water."

Cordelia eyed him suspiciously. "There was at least six bottles of water that Giles and that Anya girl left near your bedside," she said in a strangled voice.

Well, that didn't work. Xander grimaced as he nervously scratched his head. Deciding that it was useless to lie to her, he said, "Okay, fine. I heard a scream…woke up, decided to do a little poking around. Make sure everything was okay."

Cordelia flushed with guilt as she realized she'd woken Harris up. He, more than anyone, needed his sleep to recover from the injuries he was dealt.

"Oh. I'm sorry," Cordy said in a small voice, taking in the bruised and battered form of her ex-boyfriend. Bruises he got because of me, she realized with guilt.

It was too much to take as she began sobbing again, her forehead falling down on her knees as she curled into a miserable, heartbroken ball. "I'm s-s-so sorryyyy…" Cordelia choked as the river of tears began spilling from her eyes.

Xander's face fell as he saw his ex-girlfriend weeping uncontrollably. And he felt his heart move…almost break…at the sight. Limping with care, he slowly moved towards the crestfallen young woman until he managed to sit alongside her at the foot of the bed.

"Cor? Hey, hey, shhhh, Cordy, it's okay. It's okay," Xander assured her as he slid his good arm around her shoulders, rocking her gently. "What's wrong? Tell me."

"I can't!" Cordy cried as she shook her head. "I can't…"

"C'mon, Cordelia," Xander said coaxingly, with a gentle timber in his voice. "It's me, Xander Harris. The same guy you used to chase around the monkey bars and try to plant a wet one on during kindergarten. The same guy you constantly harassed and ridiculed all the way through elementary school, junior high and high school. The same guy who saw you off on that bus to LA." His voice became even softer. "You can tell me anything."

Her bottom lip quivering, Cordelia brought herself to look at the bruised and mashed face of the young man she had once dubbed 'the Zeppo'. At the time, she had coined the phrase as an insult, mocking the fact that her then-recent ex was the only member of a gang - which included a Slayer, a witch, a Watcher, a vampire and a werewolf - with no powers or special skills, essentially making him useless.

Well. The shoe's definitely on the other foot now, isn't it? Cordy thought, brokenly. He's helped to stop at least seven apocalypses…and me, with all my visions and new fighting skills? I helped bring one about.

"Cordy?" Xander's voice softly asked, imploringly. "Talk to me."

Taking in a deep breath, Cordelia softly uttered through the tears, "It's all my fault."

Xander frowned in confusion. "What are you talking about? What's all your fault?"

Another sob escaped her lips as Cordelia looked down to the floor with haunted hazel eyes. "Everything," she said in a broken whisper.

It took a moment to register in Xander's brain before his eyes widened in understanding.

"Oh, no, Cordy, no, don't think that," Xander said in a reassuring rush. "That wasn't you. You were possessed! You gotta know that, right?"

"Tell that to the families of the twelve thousand-odd people that are dead right now, because of what my body did," Cordelia wept bitterly. "Tell that to Lilah…when the last thing she saw as she bled to death in that hallway…" she pointed to the outside. "…was my face. That was the last thing that Manny guy saw, too…and that family of priestesses. The mom, the dad…that poor little boy…"

Cordelia stared off into a distant memory only she could see, her expression empty and bleak. "The last image they took with them to the grave…was my face."

"Cordy, please," Xander said, gently. "You had no control over what some crazy Power and the Bitchmaster did. You would never have done those things of your own free will, and we know that. I know that."

"Stop it!" Cordelia hissed at him, her tear-streaked face contorted in anger. "Stop trying to make me feel better, stop trying to absolve me from the blame. Just…please, stop it!"

"Not until you stop blaming yourself for something you couldn't have prevented," Xander said, holding his ground. "It wasn't your fault."

"Yes it was!" Cordelia snapped, angrily wiping away the tears. "Don't you get it? Sure I didn't do all those things of my own free will. But I should have known better than to accept those powers from Skip in the first place! Didn't they teach us in grade school not to take candy from strangers? The same principle applies for taking cosmic gifts from mercenary demons secretly working for the Big Bad! I should have known something was up, I shouldn't have let Skip trick me into letting him rewrite my DNA to be a part-whatever so I could hold onto the visions."

Cordelia shook her head, as a fresh round of tears streamed down her face. "But I just had to do it, I just had to prove it to everyone - Skip, Angel, even myself - that I belonged here. That I was more than just a failed actress whose glory years were spending her dad's money in high school. That I could be someone that counted. That I could be…a hero."

The Chase woman laughed, a bitter and ugly noise. "Some hero I turned out to be!"

Though it pained him to do so, Xander reached across and grabbed her shoulders, forcing Cordelia to look at him. It hurt him to see this woman, who always had such a blazing fire within her, such a strong, indomitable spirit, sitting alongside him looking so sad, so broken, so…lost.

And Xander Harris would not allow that flame to be extinguished within her, out of fear that if he did, Cordelia Chase would soon wither and die.

"Hey. Look at me," Xander said as the brunette woman's tear-glazed eyes met his one good eye and the still-swollen right one. "You are a hero, Cordelia. Willow told me about what you did when you were up in the…astro wherever-it-was. You were willing to become a blank slate for the rest of your life to keep Jasmine from taking over. You were willing to forget everything and everyone you ever loved to keep the world safe. In my book, there's not a whole lot of people who woulda been willing to do that."

"But I failed!" Cordelia protested, still crying. "I let Angel and Lorne do that damned spell when I was Amnesia Girl…and all those people paid the price afterwards. And my friends, everything I did to them…oh God, Xander, how can they ever forgive me?"

"Like this," Xander said, as he pulled the heartbroken young woman into a hug with his one good arm, his nose peppered with her lavender scent as her hair brushed so close to his face. "Cordy…we love you. All of us. Apart from the Potentials upstairs who have no idea who you are, there's not a single person in this hotel that wouldn't lay down their life for you if we were asked. We know that whatever it was that was going around looking like you, talking like you, walking like you…it wasn't you. End of story."

Cordelia scoffed, though she still looked inconsolable. "Yeah, sure. It's really that simple? Just like what happened with Angel back in high school, right?"

Xander's eyes darkened for a moment, recalling the horror that was his junior year. "That was…different."

"Why?" Cordelia demanded, sniffling. "C'mon, Xander, think about it! His soul wasn't in the driver's seat when Angelus killed Ms. Calendar, or tortured Giles, or put Buffy in the hospital and sent all those vamps after us in the library or tried to send the world to Hell. And yet how did we treat him when he came back, I ask you? How did we look at him? Like he was this evil monster!" She shook with fear as more tears rolled down her face. "Why shouldn't I get the same treatment? Why wouldn't I?"

"Well, for starters, you didn't spend a hundred years before that viciously slaughtering people, like Deadboy did," Xander shrugged. "And when this…happened to you, you weren't -"

"Getting pelvic with the girl you had a huge crush on?" Cordelia offered weakly.

Xander frowned distastefully. "I was going to say that, in your case, you at least were trying to stop the end of the world." He gently reached up and cupped her delicate cheekbones, slowly wiping the tear tracks of her left cheek away with his right thumb. "You tried, Cordy. That's all any of us can do. It might not always work out, but at least you can say that you tried."

Cordelia shut her eyes as more tears came, taking solace in the strong, firm hands that had offered her comfort and love on many nights back in high school. She slowly opened her eyes as she took in the sight of the injured, yet caring young man that was willing to take a steel-plated fist to the chest for her.

Seeing his broken and battered face made Cordelia want to cry yet again, but she managed to hold it together. "I, uh…I heard Skip gave you a pretty bad working over?"

Xander tried to laugh it off, only to find that it still hurt his ribs to laugh. Stifling the urge to groan, Harris forced a pained smile onto his face. "Ah, that guy was basically all talk. Typical supervillain, loved the sound of his own voice too much - I had him on the ropes." He paused. "Actually, it's a good thing there weren't any ropes around, or he might have used them to strangle me."

Cordelia shook her head. "Why?"

"Well, y'know, ropes are pretty handy for that sort of thing -"

"No, you dummy!" Cordelia sighed, staring at him poignantly. "I meant…why'd you do it? Skip was bad news. He went toe-to-toe with Angel and nearly put him in an ashtray, and he nearly killed the others. But you went and forced him to make you his punching bag? Even when you knew you didn't have a prayer of winning? I just, I mean…why?"

Xander stared back at her incredulously, as if the answer was the most obvious thing in the world. "He was gonna kill you, Cor. You and then the others - he not only said so, it was written all over his face. What else was I supposed to do?"

Harris flashed back to the merc's sinister smile as he hovered above Cordelia's sleeping form. "When I saw him there, standing over you, with that look in his eye that he was going to do something bad…something in me just…well, I just…"

Xander was trying to give words to that emotion, that desperation that drove him to ignore a concussion, a broken nose, an injured arm, a swollen eye and blood loss and crawl over the floor to put his own body between his ex-girlfriend and a metallic demon juggernaut.

Seeing the pause, the uncertainty on the young man's face, whose eyes looked down for a moment, Cordelia hung on his every word.

"You just what?" she asked softly, urging him to continue.

Swallowing hard, Xander returned his gaze to Cordelia. "I just knew…that I couldn't let him hurt you. I didn't even think about it, I just…I just knew I'd die before I let that happen." His earnest eyes shone with sincerity, and with an emotion that Cordelia thought she recognized, but she hadn't seen in far too long.

Harris let out a heavy sigh, seven years' worth as a matter of fact. "God knows I almost did."

It was then that Xander noticed a strange look in Cordelia's eyes that he hadn't seen in what felt like forever. It was a serious look, but it wasn't sad. It wasn't pensive, either. Yet there was something powerful, something indescribable in the way her glistening eyes beheld him. Something that made part of him leap in joy and quiver in fear at the same time.

He didn't remember later who moved first, him or her. But it didn't matter, as her soft velvety lips slowly, tentatively met his still-cut mouth. And his skin was suddenly tingling with a long-dormant, but still-familiar electric spark that used to make every part of him come alive whenever they were together.

It was soft at first, a tender kiss, affectionate but chaste enough. Yet with each passing instant, that brief spark began to burn and flicker into a growing current between them as Xander's tongue gently found its way into her mouth, drawing a small moan from Cordelia's throat. Instinctively, he pulled her in closer with his sole good arm, and she reached up and slowly snaked her arms around his head.

Cordelia wasn't thinking - she had no idea what was happening, no idea what was going on inside her. But in the midst of her despair, her suffering, here was the doofus she'd known all her life; the dumbass who was willing to go toe-to-toe with a killer demon for her, the dorkhead who was whispering words of comfort, holding her and stroking her hair tenderly.

The battered White Knight that had come to save her from her own suffering during her darkest hour.

Never had such a beaten and swollen face seemed so incredibly handsome and sexy to her.

"Xander," Cordelia whispered in a daze when their lips parted, the young woman finally distracted from the horrors of the recent past...for now, at least.

Suddenly, as if splashed by a bucket of cold water, Xander abruptly pulled away, leaving her confused.

"Cordy…we can't," Xander said quietly, gently shaking his head.

"What? Why?" Cordelia wondered, her soft hazel eyes glittering with hurt and fear. For a moment, she wondered whether deep down Xander did indeed blame her for everything, no matter what comforting platitudes he had uttered before.

Harris sighed, shutting his eyes. "It's just…it's too soon. You're still hurting. And I don't want to take advantage of you. It wouldn't be right."

Cordelia shook her head as she reached for his face. "No, i-it's okay. I want to, see?"

"Cor," he said gently, as he took her hands in his and lowered her hands away. "Look, I…it's not you. It's me. I've…got a lot to sort out."

It took her a few moments before she understood.

"You mean that Anya woman," Cordelia said softly as she lowered her eyes in disappointment. She knew all about the ex-vengeance demon's relationship with her ex-boyfriend, even up to the aborted wedding last year.

Xander took in a long, deep breath. "Well…she's a big part of that, yeah. I mean, Ahn and I, we're not together anymore - but the way it ended really hurt, and…I'm just not in a place where I can offer anyone anything right now."

Cordelia didn't like it, but she knew he was right. Besides, the last thing she needed, in her fragile state of mind, was to start anything up again with her old high school ex-honey when he wasn't even sure of where he stood with his own ex-fiancée. Cordy remembered the 'fluke' with Willow very well, and she didn't want to get burned that way again.

As the old adage went, 'once bitten, twice shy.'

Aside from that, Cordelia had yet to clear the air with Angel about where they stood. She had seen the way he was staring at Buffy after she'd woken from the Hypnos spell, so the Vision Girl already had a pretty good idea concerning the lay of the land there, but Cordelia still had to talk to the undead hero about them - about everything.

All those things combined made this make-out session ill-advised…no matter how much Cordelia's heart raced, or how lightheaded her head felt, or how safe she felt in Xander's arms…

Sighing, Cordelia nodded. "I understand."

Looking at the clock, she realized that it was now 5:05 a.m. and the sun would rise within an hour. She didn't want to go back to sleep, not for another round of nightmares, but Xander needed to rest. Technically he should be in the hospital right now, but he had refused to go and everyone had been too tired and/or injured to try to force Harris into it.

"You should go back to your room," Cordy said softly, her eyes heavy and sad. "You need to rest."

"So do you," Xander countered just as softly.

"Don't worry about me, I'll be fine," Cordy said with a smile, even though she knew it was a lie.

But Xander wasn't fooled for a second. No matter how much she may have appeared to change, he knew the core parts of Cordelia Chase all too well. "I'll tell you what. You want me to sleep? Fine. On one condition."

Off her confused glance, Harris elaborated, "I get to sleep by your side. Make sure you don't have any more nightmares. Once I'm sure you're getting your z's, I'll head off to my own bed."

Cordelia squirmed at the idea of sharing a bed with Xander. Sure, they had shared a lot of things over the years, like insults, ice cream, spit, broom closets…but never a bed. That was totally unchartered territory. "I…I don't think that's a good id-"

"Oh, come on," Xander lightly cajoled with a teasing grin. "Despite the incredible hotness that is Cordelia Chase, I promise I'll be on my best behavior."

Unable to contain a brief smile over the compliment, Cordelia then bit her lip in pensive thought. Well, she did want to make sure the big idiot was okay while he slept. And she didn't really want to be alone tonight. And it wasn't like they would be doing anything wrong. They were both consenting adults, after all…

"Okay," Cordelia smiled as she nodded her approval. "But no funny business, mister," she said, playfully holding her finger up in warning.

"Scout's honor," Xander said as he held up three fingers, before he realized that was the wrong sign and haphazardly lowered them. "Besides…it'd be kinda hard to put the moves on you when I can barely even move, myself."

Rolling her eyes, Cordelia slowly helped him to his feet as they leaned off of each other and gently made it onto the bed.

With his injured left arm tucked stiffly alongside him, Xander's good right arm reached out and held the soft, yet firm body of the sexy brunette close to him - Cordelia snuggling into his side as she automatically draped an arm across his chest. Feeling those amazing curves against his body, smelling that tantalizing scent of lavender, that natural fragrance of something that was inexplicably Cordy's own…

Well, suffice it to say that Xander's injured eye wasn't the only thing that was swelling right now.

Harris knew that, technically, he should feel guilty about it. After all, things between Anya and him had yet to be resolved - and he still had feelings for his former fiancée, despite all the fighting that they'd been doing lately.

There was definitely no one like Anya Jenkins…but then again, there was only one Cordelia Chase.

"Xander?" the Seer's soft voice broke his musings.

"Hmm?"

"Thank you for…this," Cordelia said, as she stared up at the ceiling. "For…everything."

Xander gently rubbed her shoulders as he took in the intoxicating lavender scent of her hair. "It's okay. Besides…it's been a long time since I've had…this. Whatever…this is. It's…nice."

Cordy snuggled in closer as she closed her eyes, a satisfied smile on her lips. "Glad I could help."

And so Harris held her as she slept, whispering words of comfort in her ear when she tossed and stirred at another nightmare, soothing her until she slept peacefully.

Only then did Xander drift off to sleep, despite intending to go back to his own room; and for the first time since his wedding to Anya had fallen apart, did a sense of contentment and a strange kin d of peace wash over Alexander Lavelle Harris as he slept.

Not knowing, caring or even pondering what the consequences of this simple act would bring the next morning from a very jealous ex-fiancée of his.


Hyperion hotel lobby

Later that morning


Buffy marveled at the efficiency and speed with which Andrew had managed to churn out a seemingly endless supply of food from the kitchen, as the others slowly began to trickle down into the hotel lobby for breakfast.

It turned out that Andrew was feeling quite guilty over his lack of action during the melee with Skip last night, and so had decided to make up for it by waking up at the crack of dawn to cook and bake an assortment of breakfast foods for the dozens of people currently staying at the Angel Investigations headquarters.

Stacks of muffins, cinnamon rolls, pancakes, omelettes, waffles, ham, bacon, eggs, sausages, and biscuits, as well as several pots of oatmeal and even several pitchers of freshly squeezed orange juice adorned the four long tables stacked alongside each other in the lobby.

That boy loves his work, Buffy noted with approval as she picked up a freshly baked chocolate chip muffin and nibbled on it. To her surprise and delight, the muffin tasted absolutely delicious.

Buffy had to admit, she was in a surprisingly good mood this morning. Between the successful rescue of Cordelia and foiling of Jasmine's plans, she had slept very well.

Of course, there were a few things that were still on her mind which concerned the petite blonde Slayer. In particular, seeing how Dawn and Connor had walked upstairs holding hands and looking all couple-y. That had been enough to set off her overprotective Big Sister mentality, until Spike of all people had told Buffy to leave them alone until the following morning; he was going to guarantee nothing untoward happened, by grabbing the room next door to Dawn's for himself.

Normally, that would have satisfied Buffy's concerns. But she had seen Spike and Faith eying each other in a suspiciously flirtatious way, which made her wonder what the hell was going on in that direction as well! Buffy was totally unsure how she felt about Spike - her Spike…kind of, except not really - suddenly eyeing other Slayers in the sea.

And, of course, there was always wondering just what was going to happen between her and Angel, now that Cordelia was back in the land of the non-possessed.

Oh, yeah, and there was the little matter of an out-of-control fallen Power That Was roaming around God-knows-where and the First Evil still lurking in the background, with the fate of the world at stake.

Sure. What's my love life compared to that little problem? All of a sudden, I kinda wish I'd stayed in bed a little while longer...

"Hi, Buffy!" Andrew eagerly greeted, as he emerged from the kitchen in his usual black sweater, black slacks and obnoxious "Smooch the Cook!" apron, carrying a fresh plate of bagels he had just finished baking. "Is your muffin okay? If you don't like it, I can get you another one, or-or-or I can get you a croissant, or an English muffin -"

"Andrew," Buffy began, slightly amused at the kid's obvious attempts to suck up to her.

Andrew's babbling nonetheless continued, "Or I can get you some blueberry pancakes, or cinnamon apple strudel, which is currently baking in the oven as we speak, or some French vanilla coffee, or decaf, if that's your thing -"

Buffy sighed, the amusement having faded by now. "Andrew…"

"I'm really, really sorry about last night," Andrew suddenly blurted out, looking desperate. "I just totally freaked, a-and I didn't know what else to do, and I know it wasn't the bravest thing, and I'm really, really sorry, please don't kick me out or tie me to another chair again, I'll do better next time -"

"Andrew!" Buffy cut him off, wincing at the comic geek's antics. "Listen up; it's okay. I don't blame you for not trying to get yourself killed by tackling Skip like the others, understand? I mean hell, look what happened to Xander - odds are that if you'd tried to be a hero, that demon would have torn you in half. And aside from that, the idea of you handling anything sharper than a spoon ladle is pretty…unsettling to me. So, we're cool."

"Really?" Andrew asked, hopeful.

Buffy nodded with an honest smile. "Really and truly…although I could use another chocolate chip muffin…"

"I'll bake you a dozen! Coming right up!" Andrew giddily exclaimed as he darted back into the kitchen, causing Buffy to snort with laughter and shake her head.

Sure, the little goofball might have been a willing minion of that creep Warren, and he registered at least a 9.0 on the Nerd Scale, but damned if she wasn't starting to warm up to him. And if Andrew kept cooking this well for everybody, well - there might actually be a serious use for the little schlub in the Slayage business, after all.

"Mornin', mornin', sunflower seeds," Lorne greeted everyone happily as he strode into the kitchen, joining Gunn, Fred, Willow, Oz, Kennedy, Robin, Lindsey, Wesley, Giles, Whistler and the scores of hungry Potential Slayers, including Molly, Vi, and Amanda and their new friend Anna.

Anya had only been down in the lobby for a few minutes before she'd realized that the still-wounded Xander might need assistance getting down the stairs, and so she'd hurried off to fetch him. Darla was conspicuously absent, but given the presence of Wesley and Lindsey, Buffy doubted she could be far away.

Connor and Dawn were washing up and were supposed to be down at any minute. Kate and her crew were outside, marveling at seeing the sun again for the last few minutes. Spike had also left earlier to get ahold of Faith, who was sleeping late, as usual. And Angel…hadn't shown up yet, much to Buffy's disappointment.

"Hey, Lorne," Buffy smiled brightly. She wasn't normally a big fan of demons, not counting Angel, Spike and Clem (Anya had been human long enough so that she didn't really count anymore) - but there was just something about the green-skinned, song-loving Pylean native. Something so likeable, just like with Clem.

"Sleep well?" the senior Slayer asked the Host of Caritas.

"Like a baby, Vanilla Drop," Lorne smiled as he walked over and gently squeezed Buffy's shoulders. "Nothing like a little progress in apocalypse-prevention to take the stress out of life, huh?"

"Doesn't suck, I'll tell you that," Gunn called out as he practically inhaled a mouthful of pancakes, Fred sternly rebuking him as he did so.

"Here, here," Oz smiled as he buttered a hot roll, turning to Willow, who was seated across from him, right next to Kennedy. "How's Xander doing?"

"Still pretty beat up," Willow frowned, as she put strawberry jam on her toast. "That Skip guy really put him through the wringer. I offered to try to mojo the worst of it away, but Xander just backed off straightaway, as if I had the plague or something!"

"Yeah, that was kinda weird. Heck, I tried to persuade him to go the local hospital - St. Matthew's - but he wouldn't have it. So, we opted for a few painkillers, an icepack for the swelling and to let him rest," Fred added after a sip of her orange juice.

"Yes, well, u-under normal circumstances, I would have dragged him to a hospital myself," Giles sighed as he drank his English Breakfast tea. "But it was incredibly late, we were all bloody tired and the blasted sod was making quite a fuss about not leaving the group. At this juncture, I've learned to trust you all to know when you feel you require medical attention. Still, I-I-I suspect it would be best if Xander avoided doing anything too strenuous for the next few days."

Willow shook her head in worry as she remembered the sight of her bloodied and battered childhood friend last night. She had never seen Xander look so bad. Ever.

Buffy bit her lip as she thought the exact same thing. She always worried about the safety of her friends in battle; while she could take a lickin' and keep on tickin', the others were only human.

Xander, in particular, worried her most of all. It went all the way back to high school. While the others had some level of skill or special abilities and knowledge that helped them out in tight spots, Harris could make no such claim. He was all heart…but not a lot of skills.

And if there was one thing Buffy was certain of, it was this-in this line of work, sometimes, heart just wasn't enough to keep you alive.

"I must admit, we definitely owe the man for his actions," Wesley nodded as he washed down his sausages with some Earl Grey tea, the morning newspaper right next to him. "Xander bought us the time to take Skip down, when no one else was left standing."

"Speaking of which, I heard you did some pretty sharp shootin' last night, Tex," Buffy told Wesley with a smile. "Never knew you were such a crack shot, Wes."

"Yeah, I gotta agree," Robin nodded. "Seriously, I saw that shot! Takes a lot of skill to pull off something like what you did."

"I'll say," Whistler smirked as he wolfed down a blueberry muffin. "Pryce over here looked like somethin' outta one of them action hero flicks, with the roll and the perfect aim and..."

Off Lindsey's annoyed stare as he eyed the balance demon from across the table, Whistler smiled coyly as he held up the tray of cinnamon rolls in front of the ex-lawyer. "Pastry?"

"Yes, I must say, Wesley - the tale of that particular gunshot has, has been somewhat remarkable," Giles smiled at the younger Englishman. "It's a pity I was rather…unconscious at the time."

Five years ago, Wesley would have gladly tooted his own horn at all this attention directed his way. He would have gladly basked in it and unabashedly reveled in it, as a matter of fact. But a lot had happened to the once-cocky, upstart Watcher since that time - and the confident, yet quiet and semi-bitter man sitting here now merely shrugged off the attention.

"I saw an opening and I took it," Wesley said in a monotone, as he returned his attention to his breakfast. "I'm just glad Skip didn't kill anyone, or do any more damage than he did."

Molly eyed the handsome British man dreamily, the SiT having already started developing a huge crush on Wesley. "That sounds amazing," she sighed. "And he's so humble about it."

Wesley gave the pretty English girl a polite smile in response, which made Molly blush and Lindsey want to heave.

"Alright, if we're all done fawning over Quickdraw over here? Then I'd like to point out that there's still one ticked-off fallen Power out there, and it looks like she's wastin' no time in getting her hands dirty," Lindsey said as he held up his copy of the morning paper. "Four homeless men were found murdered in an alley on Crescent Avenue around 1:30 a.m. last night, just a few miles away from this hotel. Two with broken necks, one eviscerated, and the other apparently decapitated. Police are currently investigating possible motives, including gang activity, possibly initiation murders - the usual suspects."

Buffy folded her arms, unconvinced. "And you think it's our resident fallen PTB, because…?"

"Well, for starters, how many normal crime scenes do you know of that are covered with maggots?" Lindsey asked with a knowing smirk.

That immediately caught Buffy's attention. "Maggots?"

"Several paragraphs down, it's mentioned how it took the police more than an hour to secure the crime scene - on account of needing to clear out an unusually large population of maggots that had infested the area," Wesley elaborated nonchalantly. "McDonald has a point - that is a fairly odd instance for a murder in this city."

"Well, I know that fly larvae are the most common type of maggot that's found on dead bodies," Fred added, helpfully. "The length of time they take to develop depends on the condition, like temperature and moisture. The better the conditions, the faster they develop. But even though it's spring right now, it's still pretty uncommon for maggot larvae to infest a corpse within a two to three hour time span."

Buffy blinked, dumbfounded. "Oh. Uh, yeah…psst! Everyone knows that." What the hell is she talking about?

"Speaking of appetizing breakfast discussions," Kate interjected, though light-heartedly, as she entered the lobby, her crew following behind before breaking off to fill their plates with breakfast goods.

Lindsey, spotting the attractive former police detective that he hadn't seen in ages, couldn't help another smirk from crossing his face. "Speaking of long time, no see..."

Kate's eyes narrowed at her former foil as a disgusted look crossed her face. "Speaking of making me lose my appetite. I don't talk to Wolfram & Hart lackeys."

An amused smile played on Gunn's face as he turned to look at Lorne. "Damn. I'm startin' to forget why I didn't like that chick," he said quietly, to which Lorne chuckled and even Wesley faintly smiled at.

The three members of Angel Investigations recalled well how much the attractive policewoman had been a thorn in their side after her falling out with Angel years ago, although any inconvenience that Kate had created for them paled in comparison to the grief that Lindsey had caused them while at Wolfram & Hart.

"Well, then, that shouldn't be much of a problem for you, Supercop. Seeing as how I no longer work for Evil Incorporated," Lindsey replied smoothly, still smirking.

Kate snorted as she grabbed a hot roll. "You know what they say, McDonald. You can take the pond scum out of the slime, but you can't take the slime out of the pond scum."

"How cogently put," Wesley tonelessly chimed in.

Darting an annoyed glare at the ex-Watcher, Lindsey turned back to the peeved ex-cop. "Geez, with talk like that, you're making my feelings hurt." With a wolfish grin, he added. "But then again, I always did like a woman who knew how to talk dirty."

Slamming her plate down on the table, Kate threw up her hands in exasperation. "Anyone care to tell me why I have to put up with this scumbag?"

"Because apparently, Scrappy Doo over there might still be of use of us," replied Angel's voice, heralding the vampire's sudden appearance from the top of the stairs as he bounded down for breakfast.

Buffy couldn't prevent her eyes from lighting up at the vampire detective's presence. Feeling her eyes on him, Angel turned to Buffy and gave her a small smile.

"Feeling rested?" he asked softly.

Buffy nodded, with a smile. "Fresh as a daisy. Very daisy-like."

Willow watched the interaction between her best friend and the often broody vampire with keen interest, and could barely contain a smile. The subtle looks of concern, the affectionate smiles, the slight hesitation but visible signs of excitement. It could only mean one thing -Buffy and Angel were starting to pick up where they'd left off ages ago.

Well, this should be interesting... Willow thought to herself with great fascination, as she eyed Angel both as a witch and as a woman.

However, the same could not be said of Kennedy and Robin, both of whom eyed Angel with suspicious glances.

Annoyed at Angel's dig, Lindsey turned his eyes towards the leader of Angel Investigations. "Well, look who's up early from his coffin this morning."

Angel eyed Lindsey with distaste. "Just keep making yourself useful, Lindsey, or else you might find yourself in your own coffin."

At that moment, Andrew zipped back from the kitchen, with a dark mug for Angel. "Um, here you go, Mr. Angel, sir. Pig's blood, fresh from the butcher's market, with a hint of otter for flavor."

"Otter?" Angel asked in curiosity, to which Buffy shrugged.

As Angel drank from his mug, he drew back in surprise. "Hey, this is…pretty good, actually."

A pleased Andrew was visibly giddy. "You like it? All right! I looked it up in one of the occult books once, y'know, how vampires like the taste of otter, actually, gives it a sweet taste."

Buffy raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Wow, he even makes blood taste good. Andrew, you put Emeril to shame."

"BAM!" Andrew struck a ridiculous pose as he imitated the famous chef's catchphrase. Off everyone's wary looks, Andrew visibly shrunk back. "Okay, I'm done."

At that moment, Connor and Dawn came down the stairs…which immediately drew Buffy's interest. Mostly, due to the fact that they were coming down hand-in-hand, just as she'd suspected might happen.

Connor was actually smiling, Angel noted; well, sort of. As much as an angry 18-year-old kid with parental issues could smile. But still, compared to other times, to Angel's eyes the boy actually looked…happy. Please don't let this be a dream…

"Hey, guys!" Dawn greeted sweetly.

"Hi," Buffy greeted back, with uncertainty.

"Morning," Connor nodded with a polite smile.

What almost knocked Angel for a loop, though, was how the boy even threw a smile at his direction. "Hey, Dad."

"Connor," Angel hesitantly smiled back, not at all displeased at this about-face in his son's behavior. Geez, if this keeps up, I might even encourage Dawn to marry him...

As the Hyperion's newest couple let go of each other's hands to start stacking their plates with breakfast food, the curious eyes of Molly, Vi, Amanda and Anna bore into them.

The three Potentials, in particular, were giving Dawn questioning looks, dying of curiosity to know if what they were thinking, with the two teens acting so couple-y, was true.

Off Connor's shrug, Dawn nodded with a beaming smile. At that, the female trio screamed giddily and mobbed the young couple, hounding them with excited questions and declarations.

"Omigosh, you two are soooo cute together! When did all this happen?"

"What happened last night? Did you guys work things out?"

"I'm so happy for you guys!"

Willow, who instantly understood what was happening, threw Angel and Buffy a surprised smile. Angel responded with a pleased grin…the same, however, could not be said of Buffy, who stood there with wide eyes and what could only be described as a troubled look on her pretty face.

Angel hadn't mentioned anything last night about Dawn now dating his son! Neither had Spike, damn it. And given the kid's rather unstable behavior as of late, the petite blonde was more than a little concerned about her kid sister getting involved with Connor…the same guy who had gotten Cordy knocked up...

"So, getting back on track, these maggots…you think they're like the ones you saw on this Jasmine thing?" Fred asked Buffy, once the girl-y questions and declarations had died down and both Connor and Dawn had sat down at the next table over.

"Well, myself I've never been a big believer in coincidence," Buffy replied, her distracted thoughts refocusing on a bigger problem - Jasmine.

"Neither have I," Angel added. "Wherever there's smoke, there's almost always fire."

"Or, in this case - where there's maggots, there's an angry, homicidal PTB," Oz chimed in.

"But, of course, no sign of any maggot-faced goddesses walking about," Buffy sighed.

"No eyewitness accounts, I'm afraid," Giles said, examining the paper himself. "It unfortunately leaves us with few clues on this Jasmine creature's current whereabouts."

"Ooh! I can try a locator spell," Willow suggested. "It shouldn't be too difficult."

"Yeah? That's what you think, Witchipoo," Lindsey replied, ignoring Kennedy's glare. Kate's, too, from the table where she and her crew were stuffing their faces with food. The former lawyer added, "Even in a weakened state, 'Jasmine', or whatever name it's using, is still pretty formidable. If it doesn't want to be found, it ain't gonna be."

"Then find a way around it," Angel said, his voice leaving no room for argument. "If that thing's out there, we need to get to it before it kills anyone else - or the First Evil sends its minions after it."

"I gotta second that," Buffy added, her face scrunched in thought. "The First pulled a lot of strings to bring Jasmine here, even if it was only to steal the body that so-called goddess was trying to birth itself into. The sooner we can find Jasmine, the sooner we might have a clue as to how to stop the First for good."

"There might be a way," Willow mused in thought. "What about the Orb of Makai?"

Buffy frowned. "The magic blue eight-ball thing? What about it?"

Willow elaborated, as an idea rapidly began swirling around in her mind. "Well, if it deflects divine powers, with the right spell and with the use of the Orb as a conductor…"

"…it might be possible to override this Jasmine's defenses and locate her," Wesley said in realization. "Brilliant as always, Willow."

The redhead smiled at the Englishman, pleased at his compliment. Gosh, Wesley says the nicest things sometimes...

"So how fast can you whip up this modified locator spell?" Angel asked. He wanted for them to start ASAP. Even though it was daylight and he couldn't do any real hunting above ground, the sooner they could get a lead on Jasmine the better.

"Oh, uh, it shouldn't take very long," Giles replied vaguely, exchanging a glance with Willow. "Just need to gather the right ingredients."

"In the meantime, I can make a few calls to some contacts I still have in the LAPD," Kate cut in. "Try to see if I can find out anything about unreported crime scene clues, maybe similar instances of violence in the last hour or so. Couldn't hurt to check for chatter on the police scanner, too. If something weird happens, chances are we'll find this Jasmine thing where the action is."

"Then let's get started," Buffy said. "We've got a whacked-out-of-her-mind PTB to track down."


Hyperion hotel

Later that morning


Looks like the Pouf's tastes haven't changed much over the last century or so, Spike mused as he wandered down the posh hallways of the third floor of the hotel. Place kinda reminds me of that old mansion on Crawford Street we were living in a few years back. Oh, bloody hell - I've been living amongst the humans fer too long, if that almost seems like a lifetime ago now...

Still, while Spike admitted that he liked a few of the creature comforts of life himself, truth be told - he was never much for all the frills of the rich life that his Grandsire had always seemed to crave, soul or otherwise. It reminded the former poet too much of what it had been like growing up with his human mother, back in Victorian-era London; and his actions where his mother was concerned was never a pleasant subject to Spike's mind.

So, Spike shook himself free from his thoughts and briefly reflected on last night's madness. He couldn't recall that much action happening in a single 24-hour span since that whole Glory debacle, a couple of years back. And the fun wasn't over yet, given what Buffy had said about this high and mighty Power That Whats-it lumbering about somewhere like the Jolly Green Giant.

Spike was distracted from his musings when a faint, but familiar rock song hit his ears. He recognized the band as Living Color, the song being "Cult of Personality." A pretty good tune, it reminded him of when he'd visited Las Vegas in 1989 - although nothing could beat the Sex Pistols in New York, during 1977...

"Look in my eee-yes, what do ya see-eee?" sang a familiar female voice only a few doors down. "The Cult of Personaaality…"

Following the sound of the slightly off-key lyrics, Spike rounded the corner and walked about three doors down before stopping at the room which Faith and Andrew were currently staying in. It used to be his room as well, before he'd moved out to make sure the Nibblet behaved herself around the Mini-Pouf last night.

Slowly, Spike pushed the slightly ajar door open to find Faith, clad in black denim jeans so skin-tight they looked as if they were painted on, hugging her thighs and ass perfectly. The same could be said of her shirt, a small white cut-off tee shirt of the Boston Red Sox that left little to the imagination. The dark-haired Slayer had her headphones on and her MP3 player was blasting at full volume, as she swayed and danced to the rock hit.

"I know your an-gerrr, I know your dreams, I've been everything you wa-nna be-ee, oo-ooh, I'm the Cult of Personality," Faith sang with her eyes closed, lost in her own world as her lithe body moved with a flawless grace and yet a sinfully wild edge.

Spike stared, mesmerized as he watched Faith lose herself in the music, every scintillating curve moving in a smooth, yet untamed rhythm that was captivating, even entrancing to watch. She moved as a flame would, swaying and flickering, hot and…well, she was smoking hot, period.

"Like Mussolini…and Kennedy…I-I-I-I-I'm the Cult of Personality, the Cult of Personality, the Cult of Personaaaality…" the brunette beauty sang, gyrating and swaying back and forth, and Spike's eyes were fixed upon her perfectly-shaped ass as he watched. If Faith was a flame, then Spike was definitely the moth, because he was inextricably drawn to the young woman's every movement.

Spike couldn't help but notice how different Faith's dancing was from Buffy's. He'd seen the blonde object of his affections dance many a time over the years, from the shadows of the Bronze or by a couch when the Scoobies were keeping an eye on him during his chipped days. Oh, sure, Buffy could shake it, all right, and shake it well. But there was a…a lightness in her movements, a kind of innocence in the way the blonde Slayer moved.

There was nothing of the sort in the way Faith danced - she moved like a woman who knew what she was working with, and enjoyed working with it. There was a freedom in her movements, a lack of inhibition that Spike had never seen in Buffy.

Faith moved like she was sex incarnate, wild and edgy and full of fire.

Shaking himself from his musings, Spike smirked as he called out, "I don't suppose I could distract ya from the dirty dancin' long enough to grab a Danish downstairs?"

Unfortunately, Faith didn't have a clue with regard to his presence; her eyes were still shut, lost in the blaring of the music as she continued to dance.

"Oy, Faith?" Spike tried again, to no avail.

With an annoyed shake of his head, Spike inched closer to the former rogue Slayer, who was still oblivious to the fact that the British vampire was in her room.

"Faith!" Spike called loudly as he came within a few inches of her. The vampire's voice coincided with the end of the song and, startled, Faith instinctively whirled around and delivered a solid right cross to Spike's face, drawing a pained yelp from the undead guy as he staggered backwards.

"OH! Spike? Omigod, are you okay? What are you doing here?" a wide-eyed Faith blurted out apologetically as she quickly discarded her MP3 player on the bed.

Wincing as his left cheek flared with the powerful sting of the dark-haired Slayer's blow, Spike forced a smile on his face as he cupped his jaw. "Well, after I finish collecting me teeth off the floor, I'd say so. And as fer question number two, figured I'd invite you for a Danish downstairs."

Faith shook her head, an odd sense of amusement coming over her. "You're like a hundred years old, and you never learned that sneaking up behind a Slayer is hazardous to a vamp's health?"

"A hundred and twenty-three, luv. And the way I earned my rep was by me being hazardous to a Slayer's health," Spike smirked, before he winced as he clutched his jaw again. "And in case I forgot to mention it…oww."

Faith rolled her eyes before smiling ruefully. "Sorry 'bout that. I guess I got caught up in the song."

"Living Color. That's a good joint," Spike nodded, as he regained his footing. "Kinda reminds me a little of the Ramones. Though the Sex Pistols are more my taste. Even better when you hear 'em live."

Faith raised her eyebrows, intrigued. "Dude, you actually heard the Sex Pistols live?"

Spike shrugged. "At CDGB's. In New York, 1977, just after the blackout ended. Figured I'd take in a concert, seeing as how I was in a celebratory mood right after I…"

The vampire trailed off, remembering perfectly well what he was doing during the so-called Summer of Sam in New York - hunting down and killing Nikki Wood, the Chosen One of that time. The same Slayer that was the mother of Buffy's boss and newest buddy, Robin Wood, who was probably sitting downstairs plotting how to kill him (again) over coffee and bagels as they spoke.

"After you what?" a curious Faith asked, bringing Spike back to reality.

"Um, after I…handled some business I was attending to," Spike amended cautiously. He wisely opted to switch topics, figuring that the gorgeous Slayer in front of him wouldn't take kindly to a story of the Big Bad taking out one of her predecessors - a member of her special Chosen club. "Me and Drusilla had a bit of fun in between taking care o' business, actually."

Faith shrugged, not interested enough to inquire any further. "So, uh…what brings you up here? Not that I mind the company, but…"

"Breakfast time, luv," Spike explained. "Buffy mentioned you slept in after all the action last night. Figured you must be famished, if what they say about a Slayer's appetite is true 'n all."

"That it is, and that I am," Faith nodded, her stomach grumbling loudly. She felt like she could eat a horse. Last night had been kinda fun, but it had also left her feeling pretty wiped out. It wasn't easy averting an entire apocalypse in a single day, that's for sure. I wonder how B does it all the time…

As she walked over to the bed and reached down to pick up her MP3 Player, Faith just barely caught a glimpse of Spike checking out her toned ass as she bent over, only to look away at the last moment when her brown eyes whipped towards him.

The latest incarnation of the Slayer couldn't help the mischievous smile that was forming on her face, as Faith decided to have a little fun with her undead companion. "So, back to my original question…what brings you up here? I mean, B could've come up herself or sent somebody else to get me. Yet here you are, blue eyes and all."

Spike gave her a chuckle. "Well, figured you could use a friendly face to give you the wake-up call. Seeing as how Angel was off doing his morning moping somewhere, Andrew was baking away in the kitchen and everyone else was raiding the tables, I figured it might as well be me."

"Is that what you are? A friendly face?" Faith eyed him with a flirtatious smile.

"Well, at least the one I got on right now's friendly enough," Spike replied with a smirk. Normally, most guys would have turned to mush when a beauty like Faith suddenly turned up the wattage in those pretty doe eyes and eyed them with the sultry look she had - but William the Bloody was definitely not 'most guys'.

"No complaints over here, stud, that's for sure," Faith smirked back, appreciatively eyeing the way Spike's blue T-shirt hugged his muscled frame.

"Me neither, sweetheart," Spike replied, his eyes roaming briefly over the curves of her form-fitting tee shirt. "But if it's all the same, I'd rather talk while we walk. Andrew was going on and on 'bout how I've got to try some otter blood concoction, or whatever that silly prat was goin' on about."

"It keeps him busy, which means he's off annoying someone else," Faith shrugged. "Though, I gotta admit...all that food does smell pretty good down there. Guess the guy can do something right, aside from reciting the Vulcan alphabet backwards or whatever."

"Right," Spike nodded, before suddenly growing serious…and if Faith didn't know better, she could've sworn he even looked a little nervous. "So, um…I was wondering…"

"I'm tingling in suspense," Faith smiled teasingly.

Spike took a moment to clear his throat, as he tried to keep his composure, summoning as much of the cool mystique that he had developed over the last century to the forefront. "Well, I was thinking. What with most o' the badness outta the picture right now, and uh, with a little down time at the moment…I, uh, heard of this club a few minutes from here. Live music, pretty good beer, they even claim to have the best burgers in town if you're into that sort of thing…well, I reckon that it could be…fun. You know, if you're into that sort of thing -"

"Dude. Are you asking me out on a date?" an amused Faith grinned at him.

"Now let's not get into labels, pet," Spike hastily replied.

Faith frowned, folding her arms across her chest. "Okay, but would someone who's into labels be able to label this a 'date'?"

Spike laughed, although Faith could sense it was one born out of jitters rather than mirth. "It's just two people gettin' a beer, luv. And some music…plus they have a dance floor, which, again, if you're into that-"

"Dayy-tuh. Say it with me, princess, it's a date," Faith mocked him.

Spike huffed impatiently. Damn bint, why's she making a federal case out of this?"Okay, fine, if you're so hard up on labels, then yeah, you can label it a date, if that puts yer mind at ease."

Faith couldn't resist one more jab. "But are you labelling it a date, Spike?"

Spike groused semi-angrily. "Fine...it's a bloody date as far as I'm concerned, too."

"Well, now my beating heart is all a-flutter," Faith smirked. Then she frowned. "Hey, you doin' this to make B jealous or something? 'Cause if you are, I'm not interested in-"

"Oh, bloody hell, woman, I'm not trying to make anyone jealous! Now, you wanna grab a bleedin' beer tonight or what?" Spike brusquely asked, having grown tired of the dark-haired Slayer's teasing.

Faith paused for a moment, considering his proposition, before she shrugged. "Okay."

The frown on Spike's face melted as he gaped at the brunette. "Okay?"

"Well, I haven't had all that much down time since I busted outta the slammer, and I could use a little somethin' of the fun variety," Faith replied as she put on her blue jean jacket. "Assuming things down at Command Central are green tonight, we're five-by-five for that beer."

"Five-by…does that means 'yes' for tonight?" Spike asked, caught off-guard by Faith's unusual catchphrase.

"Sure, but I gotta warn you…a night out with me can be a little wild, definitely not for the faint of undead heart," Faith smiled, her smile almost a challenge.

"Trust me...I like it wild," the platinum-blond vampire replied with a smoothness in his voice that could put any rock and roll star to shame.

Pleased with his answer, Faith winked at Spike before she walked out ahead of him as they headed down the hall. "We'll see."

Spike hadn't looked more forward to nightfall in quite some time, he realized with a small smile.


In her suite, Darla had been staring at her reflection in the mirror for the last hour or so. The night before had been…unsettling. And not because 'Jasmine' was on the loose, somewhere out there.

Rather, it was because of what had transpired while she was in the astral plane fighting Jasmine and the Beastmaster alongside Buffy.

It was still as vivid as the moment it had first happened to her - the shifting of her facial features, the old and ancient power seeping through her pores…the sweet, hot taste of coppery blood on her tongue.

It had felt like forever since she could feel the monster underneath the surface…the cruel, remorseless demon that she had been. And yet, during that long and terrible battle inside Cordelia's mind, that Darla had come back, fangs and fists and all. Cold, dead heart and cruel sense of humor.

The deadly Immortal Belladonna ripe and in all her murderous glory.

As she slept the night before, Darla had dreamed of that monster created by the Master back in the 1600s. She'd tossed and turned as she remembered the screams, the blood, the anguish, the very last breaths of her victims over four centuries soaked in death, destruction and agony.

She'd whimpered as she dreamt horrifying visions of the monster breaking free in the Hyperion after the soul spell was cast, snapping Buffy's neck, sinking her fangs into a screaming Cordelia's throat, driving a beaten and battered Angel sternum-first into the wooden legs of an overturned table, tearing out Wesley's throat, ripping off one of Lindsey's arms before bludgeoning him to death with it, killing them all one-by-one…

…until all that was left was Connor, trying to stagger away from her, though he could not do so as she had broken both of his legs.

That awful, evil smile on the demon's face as she sank her fangs into her son's throat while he screamed and begged for mercy, proclaiming his love for her with his last breath…that vision was enough to wake Darla up with a loud gasp, leaving her trembling and frightened as she stayed awake for the remainder of the night.

Connor's mother was too worried to be tired, too scared to sleep as she'd spent the rest of the night waiting for the first rays of daylight, running several tests on herself, trying desperately to quell her worries and suspicions, to find some justification for the unusual tingling in her veins that somehow felt…familiar.

To her horror, Darla had found that she could bend steel in her grip, easily crushing a metallic heirloom adorning the shelf on one of the walls, followed by bending and unbending the metal towel racks in her bathroom. She was fast, too, able to catch objects she'd tossed to any corner of the room before they could strike the walls with inhuman speed. She could hear the heartbeats of everyone on her floor, their pulses thrumming in her ears like a drummer's tapping. She could even smell the sweat forming on their skin…

Darla had overturned every shelf in the room until she'd found a cross and holy water, stashed there for safety. She had tentatively dabbed drops of the blessed water on her arm and touched the Christian relic…only to find that they didn't harm her at all.

No sizzling of flesh, no searing pain. She had even plunged her arm right into the first real patch of daylight when it came streaming through her window, only to find that it was warm…but not burning hot. Certainly not hot enough to make her skin burst into flames.

As she stared into the reflection of her bathroom mirror, a confused Darla gave voice to her fears in one simple question:

"What's happening to me?"


Hyperion hotel

A while later


Dawn and Connor could barely contain their laughter as they snuck back into the hallway. The couple had managed to carefully sneak off amid the chaos of breakfast for some 'alone time'.

"Okay, I think we're clear," Dawn smiled as she quietly spoke.

"Good," Connor smirked as he pulled Dawn against his body, eagerly kissing her. Momentarily surprised by his sudden move, Dawn nonetheless began to respond as her lips began crushing against his.

It was…intense. For many moments there were no thoughts in Dawn's mind other than this boy who was causing her hormones to go into overdrive. She could feel Connor's lips, his tongue, his…everything, and she was loving every single moment of it.

Enjoying their impromptu make-out session for several moments as she ended up with her back against the wall, as Connor started sucking on her neck and gently nibbling on her ear - Dawn's thoughts couldn't help but to wander to something else that had occupied her mind, aside from her new beau…in particular, that bolt of energy that had escaped her last night in the sewers.

Since it had happened, she had begun to feel a little…weird. Something tingly had been tickling her insides since last night, and Dawn had felt…completely different. It was like something had awakened inside her…something long dormant.

"Connor?" she asked softly, which drew his attention as he pulled back.

"What?" the guy asked with an uncharacteristic gentleness.

"It's just…well...about last night…I, I guess I'm still a little freaked out about things," Dawn explained.

Connor's eyes fell dejectedly as he incorrectly presumed she meant their relationship. "Oh. You mean…me."

Surprised for a moment, Dawn quickly clarified, "Oh, no, Connor, believe me, it's not you!" The brunette gave him a small smile as she reached up and stroked his face. "Of all the weirdness I've had to deal with in the last few weeks, you're the only weirdness I actually look forward to."

Connor gave his new girlfriend a happy puppy-like smile. "Thanks," he said, before the young man frowned at the use of the word 'weirdness' to describe him. "I think..."

Dawn sighed as she looked downwards. "It's just…that weird green light that came out of me. I've never felt anything like that before, and it's like, I can still feel it. Deep inside, you know? It's like something flicked the 'On' switch inside me, and I don't know how to turn it off. And it's…kinda scary."

Connor took a look over her, inhaling her scent. Oddly, she didn't smell any different to him - still the same intoxicating fragrance of raspberry lip-gloss, candy-like perfume and Dawn's own natural, sweet scent.

"You don't smell any different to me," he told her bluntly.

Dawn crinkled her nose, suddenly understanding what Buffy had written about once in her diary about Angel's sniffy sense being kind of creepy. "That's sweet…in a slightly gross kind of way. But, anyway…I feel different."

Connor mused for a moment at Dawn's admissions. "Like you might be turning into something, or like you might be...?"

"Like I think might have…powers," Dawn explained, slightly faltering as she finished her statement.

Connor's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Oh."

Dawn sighed as she gave voice to her confusion. "I don't know if it's good or bad, Connor, but I know something's changing in me. And…I don't know how I feel about that. I mean, all this time, ever since I found out that Buffy was the Slayer, all I've ever dreamed about was what it would be like to be in her shoes. What it would be like to be seen as someone everybody could look up to and count on when there was real trouble. Like Buffy, and Angel, and Spike, or even Willow."

Dawn then frowned as she started to imitate Buffy's voice, "But, instead, over the years it's been all, 'Oh, you can't be outside past 8 p.m., it's not safe, Dawn,' or 'No, you can't help research that man-eating demon, Dawn,' 'No fight training for you, Dawn, it's too dangerous,' 'I'm just trying to protect you and show you this big beautiful world, Dawn,' 'Blah, blah, blah, you're just a stupid kid, Dawn.' Ugggghhh! But what if I have the power to change all that now? What if I really do have powers? Maybe I can actually count for something. Maybe I can be…counted on."

A pensive look crossed Connor's sharp, yet handsome features. "I don't know, Dawn. I've had my powers all my life. I'm pretty used to them. But…they're not always so great to have." A somber look appeared in his keen blue eyes. "Ever since I came to this dimension…I can't tell you how many times I've wanted to be just a normal guy. To be able to…just fit in."

Dawn shook her head. "I know, I know. But all I've ever done is just fit in. Maybe I want to stand out, for once. Maybe I want to be…special."

Connor gave her a small smile as he brushed a lock of hair behind her ear. "I can't believe you still don't see it."

"See what?"

His eyes met hers. "Dawn…you are special."

Dawn's heart fluttered at the words as she stared entranced into the boy's blue eyes. Smiling back, she reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck. "You know what? All this talking and watching your lips move is reminding me - you have a girlfriend to kiss, mister."

Connor gave her a mischievous smile. "Yes, ma'am."

With that, his mouth met hers as lips and tongues collided once more in a heated make-out session.

At that moment, Faith and Spike were rounding the corner…at the same time that Darla slowly and shakily exited her room only a few doors down from the teens, still trying to deal with how different she now was.

"OY! What the bloody hell is this?" barked an angry Spike as his eyes bulged in outrage at the sight of Connor's mouth starting to hover over Dawn's neck, his precious 'Nibblet' with her eyes closed in rapture as she cradled the young man's head.

At that, the two startled teens jumped apart, Dawn's eyes wide in shock and embarrassment. "Uh, um, I…hi, guys," she meekly smiled, hastily straightening her blouse at the sight of a livid Spike and a mildly amused Faith.

Off Darla's look of surprise, followed by a stern, motherly glare, Connor gulped as he sheepishly scratched his head. "Uh…g'morning, Mom."

"Yeah, well, looks like somebody's having a really good morning," Faith smirked, which earned her a glare from Spike and Darla.

"It's not what it looks like," Dawn blurted out quickly.

Darla raised her eyebrows, almost sardonically. "So, you and my son weren't making out in public - literally right here, in the middle of the hallway?"

Dawn swallowed. "Okay, so I guess it was what it looked like."

Growling, Spike eyed Connor with a growing contempt as he menacingly stepped forward. "I'm telling ya, mate, I'm sure there's a thousand reasons why I shouldn't tear off your googlies and make a necklace outta 'em - but so help me, right now, I can't think of a single one."

Ever the hotheaded teen, a sneering Connor stepped forward, eying the vampire challengingly. "Come on; make a move, Leech Boy. I've got a stake right here with your name on it."

"Guys, please, don't do this," Dawn pleaded.

Faith shook her head and muttered, "Oh, crap, not this again…"

With incredible swiftness, and deciding to put her own issues on hold for now, Darla stepped between her son and her Great-Grandchilde. "Enough, both of you!"

Taking a look at Connor, Darla said, "While your actions may have been…inappropriate…" She then turned to eye Spike, "…there's no reason to resort to violence over it. Especially considering that it's my son that you're threatening to castrate, William."

Spike sized up the youth for a moment, his narrowed eyes never leaving Connor as he spoke to Darla. "Long as he minds his manners 'round the Nibblet, I reckon he can keep his stones where they are - for now."

"Ooh, I'm shaking with fear," Connor replied with a cool smirk, earning him a slap on the arm from Dawn, followed by an admonishing glare.

Turning her gaze to Darla, Dawn became very apologetic. She started babbling, "Look, Mrs…um…Darla, I-I'm really sorry, I didn't mean any disrespect or anything, but y'know, I really like Connor, and I know he likes me, too, and I was just kinda freaked out about last night, and this weird green light that came out of me, and Connor was just trying to help -"

Chuckling, Darla held up her hand. "Relax, Dawn. It might have been a very long time ago, but I still remember what it's like to be a teenager - young and hot-blooded and making rash decisions. Having said that, though, next time - I don't think it would kill either of you to get a room, would it?"

Dawn blushed. "I guess not."

"I wouldn't count on it," Spike muttered, bristling at the notion of leaving his innocent little Dawn alone in a room with Angel's horny little hellspawn, especially considering that it was Connor that had apparently knocked up that Cordelia bint some time ago.

Rolling her eyes, Faith nudged him with her elbow. She was actually kind of happy for the brats. Dawn was a sweet kid, and if having her around Junior would make him a little less sullen and creepy, then she was all for it.

Faith's musings were cut off as she suddenly recalled a few key words out of Dawn's mouth. "Yo, wait up, Li'l D…what was that about a green light you were talking about, that came outta you?"

At that, all eyes went to Dawn, who immediately felt self-conscious and berated herself for the Willow-esque babble-fest just now. Oh, crap! Whydid I have to open my big mouth about that?

Connor, sensing her discomfiture, instinctively moved to her side in a protective fashion. "It's nothing important, just something that happened," he lied, keeping his voice smooth and controlled…a little too controlled for Spike's ears.

"Yeah? Well, why do I find that hard to believe?" Spike replied, before taking a concerned look at Dawn. "Dawn? What's goin' on, luv?"

Defensively, Connor snapped, "I told you, it's nothing you should be -"

"Connor," Dawn softly cut him off, raising her hand for him to stop. "It's okay."

At that, Connor turned concerned eyes toward his girlfriend. "You sure?"

"Yeah," Dawn sighed, resigned to the fact that the cat was well and truly out of the bag now. "Besides, it's kinda pointless trying to lie when there's a vampire in the room, y'know."

"Okay, so, what's up?" Faith asked.

Turning her head both ways to make sure there were no eavesdroppers, Dawn said, "Um, not here. Is there somewhere more private we can talk?"

"My room," Darla offered. "Come on, this way."

With that, the party of five quickly entered Darla's suite, the blond woman making sure to lock the door afterwards. Well, this should be interesting…

Dawn wrapped her arms around herself, biting her lip nervously. She had wanted to figure this out on her own, but it didn't seem like that was an option anymore. She only hoped that whatever it was that was happening to her, these people could help her understand it.

And, hopefully, keep her overprotective sister out of it, at least for the time being.

Connor looked around the room, recalling how not so long ago - Darla had talked with Angel in here after his mother had teleported him, Anna and herself out of the factory, when the fake Cordelia had gone on the warpath. Those memories were not good ones. Then the male teen looked at the bed, and suddenly suspicion crystallized into certainty…

…this had to be the very same place where he had been conceived, thanks to his parents having angry sex all those years ago. Like Dawn would put it - GROSS!

"Floor's all yours, Bite-Size," Spike gently offered, drawing Connor out of his unwelcome mental musings.

Taking a deep breath, Connor offering a nod of encouragement, Dawn told the group everything. The weird light, the explosion of power that had nearly killed the insectoid demon, how she was feeling somewhat strange since last night, all of it.

Darla, Spike and Faith looked at each other in concern as Dawn finished her tale, which made the girl only more self-conscious.

"Sodding hell. Why didn't you tell us all this last night, Platelet?" Spike asked, concern and worry filling his eyes. "Didn't ya think it'd be kinda newsworthy for us to know that you're suddenly lighting up like a bleeding Christmas tree, and spewing out laser bolts from your mouth?"

"Well, there was a lot going on, especially with Buffy and Darla and Cordelia…and, I-I didn't want to worry anyone, and…and I was confused. I still am," Dawn admitted, fidgeting under Spike's glare. "And…I guess I was kinda scared."

"So, Dawn. You think this have something to do with that whole Key thing you got goin'?" Faith asked. While in prison, Angel - to whom Buffy had confided Dawn's origins during the night of Joyce's funeral - had entrusted her with that secret, feeling that Faith deserved to know; given that the brunette Chosen One also had memories of Dawn and might want to make amends to her one day.

"I dunno. Maybe," Dawn shrugged helplessly.

Spike rubbed his face, contemplating what all of this meant. "Yeah, maybe, luv. But I reckon Big Sis might have a better idea of what to do -"

"No!" Dawn all but shouted. "Spike, please…don't tell Buffy about this."

Confused, Spike gaped at the youngest Summers girl. "Nibblet, she has to know. Besides, if your sister finds out that I knew something about…whatever it is that's going on with you…and that I didn't tell her, she'll have my arse in an ashtray faster than you can blink!"

"And what a shame that would be," Connor muttered sarcastically.

Spike glared at Angel's son. "Just like it'd be a damn shame if I was to accidentally rip out your windpipe so you could stop making that annoying talking sound, you little git?"

"Spike, enough!" Darla snapped, growing weary of this little spat between the two males. "And that goes for you too, Connor!"

Faith crossed her arms. "Look, Dawn, if you're suddenly shooting light beams outta your eyeballs, don't you think maybe we should bring in the others on this? I mean, I know B's wound a little too tight; but if you were my sister, I'd be pretty pissed if I learned you tried to hide this from me -"

"Faith, you don't understand," Dawn interrupted. "You haven't been back all that long, you don't know what Buffy's like now. She's gotten all ridiculously over-protective - and Spike, don't say anything!" Dawn snapped at the British vampire, who shut his mouth in annoyance after opening it to contradict her. "Look, I…I think this might be a good thing. I mean…what if I have powers now? What if this means something?"

"Something like what? You're eventually gonna turn into this portal of nastiness that swallows the whole world into Hell?" Faith asked calmly, which drew a horrified stare from Dawn and glares from Connor, Spike and Darla.

Faith only shrugged. "What? Like you guys weren't thinking it might be possible?"

"Actually, I don't think that's what's happening here," Darla said, as she sent a look towards Dawn.

At that, the former vampire drew Dawn's immediate attention. "You mean…you think you might know what's going on with me?"

Darla motioned for Dawn to come closer, which the teen quickly did. The blonde woman scanned the girl from head to toe, before she took one long, hard look into the young girl's wide blue eyes, searching for something that only a magically inclined person could see.

"Mom?" Connor asked, watching the two females with curiosity.

Just as Darla was beginning to think that maybe her suspicions were wrong, finally she saw it. In the very core depths of Dawn's blue irises…a glimmer of green light.

"Ah, I see," Darla smiled knowingly.

"You do?" Dawn asked, a dash of hope appearing in her eyes. "You understand what's happening to me?"

Darla nodded. "I think I do. But before we get into that, you have to be completely honest with yourself, Dawn…about who you are. Or rather…what you are."

Dawn swallowed, her eyes falling to the floor. She knew very well what Darla was talking about.

"What's she talking about?" Faith asked.

"She means…the fact that I'm not really human," Dawn morosely explained.

Spike and Connor immediately opened their mouths to protest, only for Dawn to cut them off before they had a chance to say anything. "Guys…I know! I already know what you're gonna say. That I'm human enough for you, that I'm normal…but we all know the truth here. I'm someone who was…who was created by magic. The only reason I'm here is because a bunch of monks who were peeing their robes when Glory came a-knockin' decided to turn a mystical Key into a real girl and foist her onto the Slayer for safekeeping."

As much as she sometimes wished it, Dawn could not unlearn the terrible truth that she had learned from Giles's Watcher Diary entries on that fateful night two years ago. And despite all of the assurances that her loved ones had given her through the past two years, despite all of Buffy's attempts to make sure that Dawn lived a normal life, like any normal girl…deep down, Dawn knew that she was not a normal girl.

She was the Key, or at least the humanized version of it. A mystical force of nature, trapped in the body of a sixteen-year-old girl who loved junk food, Pokemon, the Harry Potter book series and sappy chick flicks.

"On the contrary, Dawn, you're very much human," Darla gently explained, taking pity on the insecure girl. "But there's so much more to you than that."

"Yeah, I know," Dawn muttered, sarcastically. "Come one, come all, see the amazing Portal Girl - able to unravel the fabric of reality with the right ritual and a few drops of her blood, but for this week only!"

Darla smiled a little - the female teen's flippant attitude so similar to Buffy's, which she had come to know quite well during their trip on the astral plane. "Yes, there is that. But more importantly…it means you have power deep inside you. Potential that's just sitting there, waiting to tapped."

"I don't understand," Dawn said with a frown.

"Inside you is a cosmic force…an energy unlike any other," Darla explained. "And from what I remember about the basics of physics, what is energy but the ability of a person or thing to perform a task? And like all energy…even the Key's can be converted into something different."

"Okay, what are we talking about here?" Faith asked, getting lost in the conversation.

Spike frowned, but said nothing. What the hell are you up to, Darla?

As Darla's patient gaze met Dawn's eyes, the female teen couldn't help but to marvel at the eyes of the older woman. Those blue-grey eyes held a gaze that was so old, so ancient, it was as if she was looking into the depths of an wise old soul.

"Tell me something, Dawn," Darla smiled. "What is it that you desire above all else? What's the one thing that you want most of all?"

There were a lot of things that Dawn wanted. She wanted this latest freakin' apocalypse to stop. She wanted her mom back. She wanted for Buffy not to be in danger of dying yet again. She wanted for things to get better between Angel and Connor.

But there was one thing, one thing she had always wanted more than anything else…

"I want to help," Dawn said quietly. "I want to…to matter. To count. Be counted on. Like Buffy is."

"You want to be a hero," Darla amended, nonetheless nodding her head. "To have others see you the same way that they see your sister."

Faith looked aside for a moment, the subject hitting a little too close to home for her liking. She'd been there, where Dawn was - trapped in the larger-than-life shadow that Buffy's tiny little frame seemed to cast. Way back when, it just never seemed like it was ever enough; for all the same powers, all the same training, everything that the two Slayers had in common, Faith had long ago realized that she could never compete with Buffy amongst the Sunnydale crowd.

Faith would always be the substitute Chosen One in their eyes. The other Slayer. Second best, the thought echoed in Faith's mind for a moment, before she brushed it away. Well, screw it. Who cares? I'm not that Faith anymore. Like Angel once said - that's all in the past now…

After a beat, Dawn nodded, confirming Darla's thoughts. "Yeah. That's what I want."

"Why?"

Dawn looked up in brief surprise at the serious look in Darla's eyes, a look that seemed to be testing her for some unknown purpose. Deciding it was best to go with the truth, the brunette teenager exhaled and explained the reason for her wish.

"Because…because I'm sick and tired of the people I love putting themselves in danger…dying, even…and not being able to help in any way. Well, not in any way that really counts. It makes me feel…useless. Like I was never meant for more than just being a helpless victim, poor little Dawnie. I just…I wanna be able to help, whenever the demons or the vampires or the Bringers show up. To do something, anything. That's why, I guess, in a nutshell."

Taking in the girl's answer, Darla smiled, apparently pleased with the answer she received. "And what if I told you that there was a way to make that happen?"

Dawn drew back in surprise, as puzzled looks filled the faces of Faith, Spike and Connor.

"Now, wait just a minute, Great-grandma - what exactly's goin' on 'ere?" Spike demanded, his eyes filled with suspicion. He wasn't sure where Darla was going with all of this, but he was pretty sure he didn't like the sound of it.

"What he said," Dawn said, uncertainty written on her face.

"The truth is, Dawn, the Key energy is changing within you, on account of something - I don't know what - must have set it off. I even saw it for a moment just now, that green light in your eyes. It's trying to express itself, manifest physically," Darla explained slowly. "But rather than wait until it does that - which, quite frankly, could bring about any number of consequences - I think I might be able to affect that energy with a little bit of what the Beastmaster used to corporealize me. Think of it as…well, shaking up a can of Coke, but only pressing the lid halfway to relieve the pressure."

Dawn was smart enough to figure out what Darla's explanation meant. "You're talking about changing me, somehow."

"One aspect of you, yes," Darla said, nodding again. "It'll give the Key energy a way to manifest itself safely. The result will be you gaining abilities beyond what you had ever conceived as possible."

The thought of such powers was an exciting concept to Dawn…and an incredibly frightening one at the same time. "Like what?"

"Unfortunately, I don't know," Darla admitted. "That's something that you'll have to discover on your own. However, if you prefer the alternate choice, I could always permanently quell the Key energy instead."

"Quell?" Dawn asked. "As in, take it away from me?"

Darla nodded. "If you prefer."

"Why would I want to do that?" Dawn asked, truly puzzled. This could potentially be the coolest thing to ever happen to her; why would she want to go back to just being regular old Dawn Summers?

"Because having powers isn't just about helping people, or doing whatever you want. You'll be in the spotlight, Dawn…but not in a good way," the ex-vampiress explained. "Buffy, Angel, Spike, Faith, Connor, Willow, even the Potential Slayers…they're targets. Because of the power they have, or could have. By doing this, you won't just be behind the scenes anymore, Dawn - you'll be a player. A target. The First and its minions will be coming after you, because of the threat you'll pose to them. You'll be in constant danger, which means you'll have to grow up very fast and learn about your abilities very quickly. Life as you know it will never be the same. And once I open that door for you, if you step through it…there will be no going back."

"Then forget it," Spike said roughly, before he saw Dawn glaring at him. "Oh, c'mon! You're not doin' this without even speaking to Big Sis about it first! After Buffy found out, she'd kill us both!"

"Hold up a minute," Faith broke in. "B probably would kill me for sayin' this, but I think at this point - it's really Dawn's decision, isn't it? I mean, you heard the kid - she wants to help. And if this neat-o power of hers really is that powerful, it might be just what we need to get a leg up on the bad guys. I mean, we're not exactly in the position of turning down any possible help, are we?"

"Dawn," Connor cut in, his eyes clouded with worry. "What Mom's saying…look, you don't have to do this. Let us - let me worry about the bad guys! I can protect you. You don't need to change yourself just to be a part of this insanity!"

"Much as I hate to admit it, I gotta agree with the whelp on this one," Spike nodded, his eyes meeting Dawn's. "L'il Bit…you've already been through hell ever since your mum passed away. There's no need for you to do this."

"Faith, what was it like for you when you became the Slayer?" Dawn asked, ignoring the looks from Spike and Connor.

"Like I was totally juiced," Faith recalled. "It was like…this rush of power. A little scary, sure, but it was awesome. Like I was a living weapon, I guess, just like you could be -"

"Dawn's not a weapon!" Connor angrily snapped. "And she doesn't need to be caught in the crossfires of a war!"

"Like it or not, Junior, we're all in the crossfire here if you haven't noticed," Faith retorted brusquely. "Your girlfriend isn't any different. Maybe by amping up her batteries, she might have a better shot of surviving all this - you ever think about that?"

"Is that all you care about? Winning some stupid battle?" Connor said accusingly. "What is it with you people and your need to keep on fighting?"

"Life's a constant battle, kiddo," Faith shot back, getting more annoyed by Connor's remarks by the second. "You wanna sit around and bake brownies and braid hair? Go join a Girl Scout troop."

"Guys, stop it!" Dawn shouted. "Please…look, I get what you're all saying, I do. But it's my choice, right? Don't you think I should be the one who decides what to do here?"

Both Connor and Spike's stern answer of "No!" was countered by Darla and Faith's unisoned reply of "Yes," which drew an annoyed frown from Dawn.

Seeing the frown on his girlfriend's face, Connor's expression softened. "Look, Dawn, it's just…I just don't want to see you get hurt. If anything happened to you, I…"

Dawn gave him a soft smile. "I know. And you're super-sweet. But, Connor, honey…I've been on the sidelines my whole life. If I have a chance now to help protect my sister, and you, and everyone else…"

This is it, Dawn realized. The moment of truth. With one word, her whole life would change. While the thought of being on the hit list of the Ultimate Evil was unsettling to her, the idea of having the power to help her friends and choosing not to as they fought for their lives was even worse.

Dawn flashed back to a few weeks ago, when the Sunnydale gang had mistakenly thought that she was a Potential Slayer. She remembered the anxiety, the fright that she'd first felt at the overwhelming sense of duty - it really had been frightening, thinking that she could be in line to become the next Chosen One.

But whatever doubts Dawn possessed had melted away into purpose, when she'd overheard Xander talking to a sceptical Willow and Anya. Two people who had doubted she could handle the pressures involved.

Hey, something out there thought that she could handle this and a hell of a lot more. Something out there chose her.

As she finished thinking back to Xander's words, Dawn Summers realized that this was more than about just her choice - this was why she was here. This was why those Powers That Be that Wesley and Angel talked about must have allowed those monks to mold her little glowing green energy self into flesh and blood.

She was more than just a potential gateway to alternate dimensions. She was meant to be a hero…a champion, like Angel and Buffy.

This was her true purpose…her destiny.

So with a purpose that filled her eyes like never before, Dawn looked at Darla and gave her a small nod.

"Okay. I'm in," Dawn Summers said, keeping her voice level despite the butterflies that filled her stomach.

"No, you're bloody well not!" Spike roared, slipping into his game face.

"Let's do this," Dawn said, ignoring him completely.

"Are you absolutely sure?" Darla asked, likewise ignoring the British vamp.

The eyes of the youngest Summers girl grew steely. "I've thought about it - just now, and lotsa times before. Never been surer of anything."

For a moment, William the Bloody looked like he was going to grab Dawn and forcibly drag her out of the room - but then he decided against it. Not only would it get the Nibblet pissed at him all over again - it hadn't been all that long since that conversation in the alley, about last year's attempted rape - but Angel's brat would almost certainly do something stupid, and Spike was smart enough not to want to go up against Connor and Darla and maybe even Faith all at the same time.

"That's it, I'm gonna go get Buffy!" Spike shouted instead, resuming his human mask and heading for the door. "And Dawn, I'm telling you - don't do anything until I come back!"

"Too late, dude. Choice has already been made," Faith indicated, as Spike turned around after reaching the door to the hotel suite.

He was just in time to see Darla reach over and place her right hand just above Dawn's heart, which she felt hammering under her touch with anticipation. "I should warn you," the blond ex-vampiress said cautiously, "this might feel a little…intense."

Immediately, a white light erupted into existence from underneath Darla's palm as the energy passed into Dawn. The female teen gasped as she threw her head upwards, an electric-like jolt of power - power unlike anything she had ever felt before - exploding from every pore in her body, her eyes and mouth suddenly aflame with emerald green light.

Dawn had only felt something like this once before - when she was six years old and her fingers had mistakenly touched an electrical socket when she tried to plug in her night light. Or so she remembered, anyway.

But this, this was a hundred times more intense, every part of her alive with electricity. She felt as if she was connecting with something, something powerful and primordial…yet strangely familiar.

"What the hell?" Faith asked in wonder at the sight.

"Nibblet! Are you alright?" Spike exclaimed, silently cursing himself for not stopping this from happening as he stormed over to Buffy's little sister.

"Dawn!" Connor shouted, turning to Darla. "Mom, what's happening?"

"She'll be fine, she's stronger than you think," Darla assured her son as she watched.

A few moments later, the light in her body began to die down and Dawn swooned a little before the world went off-balance and she felt herself begin to fall…only to be caught as a swiftly moving Connor grabbed her before she could hit the ground.

"Dawn! Dawn, are you okay?" Connor asked frantically, the others beginning to crowd around them.

With a groggy shake of her head, Dawn slowly began to regain her footing. "Yeah," she muttered. "I'm alright."

"You feel any, y'know…different?" Faith asked, curious as to what the results of this new supernatural makeover would be.

After a beat, Dawn answered. "Kinda tingly."

Spike snorted, unimpressed yet also kinda relieved. Maybe Buffy wouldn't stake him after she learned what had happened here, after all. "Well, looks to me like you got whole lotta nothin' to show for such a big overture..."

"We don't know that yet," Darla countered.

"I still don't like this," Spike persisted. "When Buffy finds out what you just did, ducks - sparks, and maybe even a couple of stakes, are gonna fly."

"Well, no use crying over spilled spells, Spike," Faith shrugged. "What's done is done now."

"Yeah, and a big help you were tryin' to talk Dawn out of it!" Spike groused as he scowled at Faith. "What if something went wrong?"

"Listen, dude, I've just about had my fill of your little temper tantrums," Faith said warningly, her voice low with menace. "That crap may be okay with B - but it's not fine with me, comprende? I'm not her. And I'll never be her. So lose the attitude and start respecting Dawn's right to make her own decisions, or else you can forget about that beer later on tonight."

"Fine," Spike tried not to sulk like a spoiled child.

"Aww, is the big bad vampire upset?" Connor asked sneeringly.

"And you can cut out the attitude as well, Junior," Faith turned to glare at the Destroyer of Quor-toth. "'Cause I wouldn't think twice about whupping your scrawny ass, so give it a rest - got that?"

"Hey, Dawn could have gotten hurt because of this! Or don't you care?" Connor shot back.

"Back off, punk, ya heard the lady," Spike cut in, moving directly in front of Faith. "Look, I'm not any crazier about it than you are - but what's done is done, like she said."

"You think I care what you have to say about all this, Blood Breath?" Connor spat.

"Hey, all of you, just calm down!" Darla tried to ease the sizzling tempers, but to no avail; no one was listening to her.

The arguing adults continued to raise their voices as Dawn, already addled and confused by the spell, shut her eyes, trying to block their voices out. "Guys, stop it…" she said, weakly.

"Maybe you'll care when I rip out your spine and skip rope with it, whelp," Spike threatened Connor. "Now apologize to the Slayer before I lose my cool…and you lose your head."

"Seriously, Spike, quit it. I don't need you fighting my battles for me," Faith brushed him aside as she stared down Connor.

Bristling, Spike eyed Faith with outrage. "What? I'm on your side here!"

"Yeah? Well, guess what - I don't need saving like some damsel in distress, okay?" Faith shot back.

"Oh, of all the... you're one of the most bloody well infuriating females on the planet, ya know that?" Spike retorted with a disgusted shake of his head.

Faith laughed derisively. "This from a guy who hung out for a century with a dead chick who was cuckoo and not for Cocoa Puffs? Oh, yeah, that's rich."

The argument was becoming more and more heated until Dawn, who had drifted over to the far right corner of the room, shouted, "STOP IT!" as she slammed both hands hard on a heavy wooden desk…

…which suddenly bent, buckled and split into two, wood, paper and other contents spilling across the floor.

All four heroes paused, their yelling effectively silenced as they stared at Dawn in shock.

Staring at the debris in awe, Dawn raised her now-trembling hands towards her, eying them in wonder. Did I do that?

Swallowing nervously, Dawn quietly uttered, "Okay…that's new."

Faith, still staring in surprise, managed to say what was on everyone else's minds.

"Well, look who just joined Club Super-Powers..."


On the cheap AM/FM radio next to the dresser, the lyrics of a Coldplay song, 'Warning Sign,' began blaring through the scratchy speakers as the morning alarm went off…

A warning sign,

I missed the good part, then I realized

I started looking and the bubble burst.

I started looking for excuses…

The first thing Xander felt when he awoke was pain on the side of his face, the result of swelling thanks to Skip's remorseless beating last night.

The second thing he felt was a curvy, soft and warm thing curling up against him, softly exhaling with every breath.

As his senses came to him slowly, Xander opened his eyes to see a slumbering Cordelia, her right arm lazily strewn over his stomach as she slept, her head tucked comfortably against his chest.

Little by little, Xander recalled what had transpired the night before; how he had comforted his ex-girlfriend as she'd cried a river of tears, blaming herself for the gang's apocalypse-sized troubles, before she'd finally drifted off to sleep.

Come on in,

I've gotta tell you what a state I'm in,

I've gotta tell you in my loudest tones,

That I started looking for a warning sign.

Taking a deep breath, Xander couldn't help but to smile, marveling at just how pretty Cordelia looked even while she was sleeping. The way that pixie-like nose twitched slightly, how her eyes fluttered as she slept, how even that tangled mop of brunette hair all out-of-place on her head was endearing.

Of all the ways Xander had imagined waking up this morning after last night, the last thing he would have ventured to imagine was being here. Laying in his ex-girlfriend's bed, with said ex peacefully dreaming next to him, smelling of lavender, perfect lips close enough to…

...go to a place that Harris was not sure he wanted to go to yet.

When the truth is,

I miss you

When the truth is

That I miss you so.

Xander knew he was still a mess, and not just physically. But he and Anya had begun to make some progress in the last few weeks; and a part of him felt as if he should fight to make that work. Make them work.

Anya was such a big part of his life, after all. Ever since high school, she'd always been there. She'd loved him, had almost married him, had helped him to make the transition from a slacker teenager into a responsible adult. The sort of man who could be the pillar of the community, unlike his drunkard father and his loveable-yet-also-alcoholic Uncle Rory. Anya was still very special to Alexander Harris, and he knew she probably always would be.

And yet...and yet, last night had felt so…right, somehow.

How he could feel something so powerful, something that also felt so natural, for a woman whom he hadn't even spoken to in years - something just like when they were stealing kisses in high school broom closets - well, Xander just could not explain it, not even to himself. There was no rhyme or reason to it; it just was.

Groggily, Cordelia slowly came to, looking up into the bruised and oddly content face of Xander.

A confused look spread across her face. "Uh, what? Don't tell me I have bed hair?"

Chuckling, Xander shook his head. "Not a strand out of place, Cor," he said with a small, knowing smile.

A warning sign,
You came back to haunt me and I realized,
she was an island and I passed you by,
You were an island to discover.

A small laugh escaping her lips, Cordelia unleashed a slow, lazy smile before she yawned as she took in the sight of her ex-honey. "Liar, liar, construction worker for hire. But points for giving a girl her dignity. What are you doin' here, Xander? I thought you were going to go back to your own bed."

"Uh, yeah - guess I kinda got carried away with the whole Nightmare Watch thing," Xander sheepishly admitted. "Besides, after the Skip-sized beatdown I got last night, I wasn't in the mood for walking after I got a nice bed under me to fall into an injury-induced mini-coma."

Becoming more awake, Cordelia's hazel eyes scanned Xander's bruised face. "Are you okay? Are you still…"

"Bruised like a bad peach squashed by a bunch of better-looking peaches in a basket? You betcha," Xander smiled, making light of his injuries in his usual off-color manner.

Cordelia's hands flew to his face, checking the severity of the bruising. Unfortunately, he still looked pretty bad; but, thankfully, they were wounds that would eventually heal. Cordelia had come to know this after many nights playing nursemaid for Angel, Wesley, Gunn, and Fred post-demon fighting.

Come on in,

I've gotta tell you what a state I'm in,

I've gotta tell you in my loudest tones,

That I started looking for a warning sign.

"You should have gone to a hospital last night like we told you to," Cordelia grumbled, though her tone was more worried than grumpy.

"Pass. I'm not heading off anywhere as long as there's an apocalypse still brewin', and Buffy still needs my help. Besides, not a big fan of hospitals," Xander said dismissively, though he took a certain relish in the feel of Cordy's soft, gentle hands on his face. "They smell all bleach-y. Plus, don't get me started on the food; and that's coming from a guy who once ate spiders!"

Off Cordelia's surprised face, Xander immediately clarified, "Uh, Dracula. Hypnosis. Long story. Trust me, really not worth the trip down Memory Lane."

Deciding that she really didn't want to hear about THAT part of Xander's past, Cordelia got back on topic. "What about Willow ? A little hocus pocus could fix you right up -"

"Also not an option," Xander shook his head. "Willow's still toeing the line as far as the 'pocus' goes. The last thing anyone needs is for her to go all black-eyed 'Carrie' again by doing a little patch-up on the ol' Zeppo, here."

Cordelia's face fell at hearing that word, recalling just how she'd used that reference to the uncelebrated member of the legendary Marx Brothers comedy act; to poke fun at Xander's 'muggle' status within the Scooby Gang way back when. "About that…I know it might not mean a damn thing coming four years too late, but is there any chance of you letting me off the hook if I told you that I was a total bitch when I called you that?"

"Cordy, I've seen you in total bitch mode, and you weren't even close to that level of bitch-ocity during that particular day," Xander smirked. "More like…a quarter-bitch. Twenty-five point three percent bitchiness."

Cordelia smiled for a moment at his joke, before she grew serious. "Still…I'm sorry."

"For what? I've learned to love that nickname," Xander shrugged it off, still smiling that sloppy, goofy lopsided grin that Cordelia had come to know and love in the past. "You may have meant it as an insult, and Zeppo might not have been the headliner, but he still got to be on stage for the show. And besides, did you know he actually became a multi-millionaire through engineering?"

A soft, yet still bright grin came over Cordelia. "Really? I didn't know that."

"Gives a guy something to shoot for. And, hey, in a couple of years, I'm hoping to have my own construction company," Xander added. "I even thought of a catchy jingle - when the demons come a-knockin', Harris Construction comes a-fixin'." He made a face. "Okay, still needs work, but I'll get there. Grammar was never my thing, anyway."

Again, another chuckle escaped Cordelia's lips. Even with a face that looked like a smushed pumpkin, Xander could still be such a goofball, delivering his trademark lame humor and ill-timed jokes.

Cordelia hadn't realized how much she'd missed that. And yet despite the clown act, Harris still seemed to have grown up after Graduation. A steady job. Plans for the future. Someone who helped save the world once or twice a year. Even a fiancée at one point, even if that was something better ignored than focused upon as far as she was concerned.

The boy Miss Chase had once loved in high school had become a man, someone who could be counted on.

When the truth is,

I miss you

When the truth is

That I miss you so.

Xander grew serious for a moment as he looked at Cordelia intently. "Good to see you laughing again. It's a good start for the healing process."

Cordelia's eyes fell as she took in that statement, a fresh rush of guilt roaring back into her.

Xander cursed himself for his lack of subtlety approaching such a delicate topic. "Um, can we just rewind that bit where my mouth just inhaled my left sneaker?"

"No, it's…it's okay," Cordelia shook her head as she looked away. "I'm gonna have to cross that bridge sooner or later, aren't I?"

"Cordy -"

"Xander," Cordelia cut off his protest, knowing full well that he was going to argue her innocence in the whole sordid matter. "Look, I'll be honest with you. I'm not okay with…with everything that's happened. I don't know if I'm ever going to be okay again, actually. All I know for sure is that it did happen, and even though it feels…unbelievably painful…I'm just going to have to keep fighting the good fight. Angel needs me…the same way that Buffy and Willow need you."

Xander didn't really know what to say to that. But a part of him couldn't help but to agree with her.

He knew that Cordelia had an uphill battle facing her. Hurting your friends, nearly destroying the world…that was a tough thing to rebound from. Harris had seen how Willow had struggled to cope with the consequences of her actions after the black-haired, blue-veined craziness of last spring, and he had heard from his friends about how Angel had to face those inner demons all the time. Now, sadly, it was Cordy's turn to carry that weight.

But she's not gonna carry it alone, Xander swore to himself. I'm gonna make sure of that.

"Whatever happens…I just want you to know that I've got your back on this," Xander said, his eyes full of reassurance as he reached out and softly gripped her shoulders. "Whatever you need, just ask. Seriously, I'm here for you."

The butterflies in Cordelia's stomach flapped wildly as she took in Xander's words, seemingly long forgotten feelings breaking through like weeds through the pavement of her heart. I think he really means it. Oh, wow...talk about tempting...especially after what happened in here last night...

Slowly reaching up, Cordy gave his right hand a gentle squeeze and smiled. "Thanks for caring…Nighthawk."

Xander's gaze displayed his surprise at hearing that old codename. He hadn't been called that in ages. Heck, he'd almost forgotten all about it...

Back in the summer before their senior year, during which a distraught Buffy had skipped town after sending an ensouled Angel to Hell, the Scoobies had taken to hunting the vampires in Sunnydale by themselves. It was Xander who'd suggested operating as a guerrilla-style unit, complete with walkie talkies, darker clothes and codenames. After all, someone had to do something, and for some reason it had seemed to make sense at the time.

Willow had taken the codename Glinda, Oz was known as Wolfman (both names self-explanatory), while Cordelia had taken the handle of Xena - Xander has teasingly offered the name 'Princess' at the time, but an irritated Cordelia, eager to prove her worth as a Scooby, had decided on a codename to show that she was both sexy and powerful - and Xander had chosen Nighthawk.

It had been a tribute to one of his favorite comic book characters, Nightwing, and, well, it just sounded so damn cool back then.

Xander wasn't sure if it was the way Cordy used his old codename from those days, or how incredible her smile looked, or if it was just the moment - the proximity of two old flames so close to one another - but somewhere deep inside of the guy, something…ignited. Or…reignited.

Holy crap, Xander thought to himself, abruptly recalling that tentative make-out session between them last night. Why does it suddenly feel like that night with me and Willow during Homecoming, all those years ago? Come on, dude, get a grip!

A delicious smell caught Cordelia's attention. "Wow…that does smell good down there. Guess it's time to grab a bite?"

Shaking himself out of his brief daze, Xander nodded. "Oh, yeah. Um…breakfast. Right. All those goodies, edible treats that…smell so good."

Brushing off his Xander-esque babble, Cordelia draped one of the wounded man's arms over her shoulders. "Come on. Time to get a move on, before those zit-faced Potentials you mentioned last night scarf down all the food."

Granted, Xander was feeling well enough to go up and down the stairs by himself, no aid necessary. But if Cordy was offering him a hand, the guy knew he'd be an idiot to pass up this opportunity to let the woman feel like she was helping again. To start burying the nightmare of the recent past, and feel like she was a genuine white hat again.

"Sure thing," Xander smiled, a little too chipper for a supposedly nearly-crippled man. "Just be careful, okay? I bruise easy."

"Oh, yeah, this takes me back. Whine, whine, whine, that's all you ever do," Cordelia teased, though she shifted her weight to make sure he was as comfortable as possible. Unfortunately, in doing so, she accidentally stepped on Xander's undone shoelace, making him lose balance and fall backwards. Cordelia yelped in fright as she twisted her body to land on his chest as the two tumbled back onto the bed in a tangle of arms and legs.

"Omigod, Xander, are you okay?" she asked fretfully.

After letting out a groan, Xander suddenly began to chuckle. Then giggle, and then he was laughing hysterically at the situation. Oh man, I always wondered what it'd be like having Cordelia on top...

"It's not funny!" an annoyed Cordelia swatted him on the chest, before his infectious laughter started to get to her, and she found herself laughing alongside him at the absurdity of the moment.

"Xander? Xander, are you in - oh my GOD!" rang out Anya's voice as she entered the room, her eyes wide in surprise, outrage and none-too-disguised jealousy.

Looking up in surprise, the smiles disappeared from both Cordelia and Xander's faces.

Xander's heart began hammering nervously as an odd sense of guilt overcame him. "Um, hey, Ahn! Uh, we-we were just -"

"What's going on here? Get off of him!" Anya all but shouted as she shoved Cordelia aside and hurriedly helped Xander off the bed.

Although she felt her inner hellcat hiss at being shoved aside so rudely, Cordelia held her tongue as she watched a dumbfounded Xander get propped up in his indignant ex-fiancée's grip, strangely feeling like a kid being caught with her hand in the proverbial cookie jar.

"Uh, I was just helping him up to go downstairs for breakfast," Cordelia explained, almost shyly, something completely uncharacteristic of her to Xander's ears.

"By jumping on top of him? Is that how you and your group do things around here?" Anya glared at Cordelia accusatorily. "He should be getting breakfast in bed, not being up and about after getting pummelled nearly to death - all because he was trying to save you."

A hurt look flashed in Cordelia's eyes at those words.

Xander immediately jumped to Cordelia's defense. "Anya, c'mon, you're overreacting. I'm fine, Cordy was just -"

"This is all your fault, you know!" Anya went on, as if not even hearing a word Harris had said. She was upset and her judgment wasn't the best right now, not after witnessing these two in what looked like a sexually suggestive situation. "You're the one who went and got all possessed and evil in the first place! If it wasn't for you, we'd be in Sunnydale right now protecting the world from the First Evil. We'd be protecting all those Potentials, a-a-and Xander wouldn't have gotten hurt last night! But instead, we're here in this God-forsaken city to help clean up your mess, and it nearly cost Xander his life! All thanks to him trying to save you from that idiot demon mercenary, who helped pull the wool over your eyes in the first place! Were you trying to get Xander killed, or what?"

It felt as though the air was punched out of Cordelia's lungs, as her mouth went dry and her eyes fell to the floor - the light having dimmed from them immediately, the warm, happy feeling she'd briefly had thanks to Xander's efforts last night and this morning crumbling and dissolving as fresh flares of guilt and pain consumed the Seer.

"Anya, that's enough!" a now-angry Xander snapped, as he broke off from Anya's side. "You apologize to Cordy for that, right now!"

Swallowing a lump in her throat, Cordelia waved him off, her eyes rapidly growing misty. "No, uh…it's…it's okay. I…I just remembered, I have to…"

With that, the brunette brushed past them as she took quick strides out of the room, knowing that her upcoming tears were inevitable.

"Cordy, don't go. No, wait!" Xander called out after her, but to no avail; his heart hurting from the pained look in Cordelia's eyes.

With a shake of his head, he turned back to Anya, his face set in an angry scowl. "Nice going, Anya. By the way, if the shopkeeper thing doesn't pan out now that the Magic Box is out of business? Here's something you can cross off the ol' potential careers list - suicide counsellor!"

"Well, it's all true, isn't it?" Anya protested. "Just last night, she was trying to kill us all; and now you go all Galahad on me when she makes the hurt puppy dog eyes after I call her out on it?"

"That wasn't her fault!" Xander instinctively snapped, growing annoyed with Anya's attitude. Harris then went deathly still for a moment, reminded of the bad old days when the exact same words had come out of Buffy's mouth, every time he had criticised her over her choice of boyfriend.

Every time he had failed to distinguish between Angel and Angelus, just like Anya was failing to distinguish between Cordelia and the Beastmaster right now.

Dear, sweet mamalooshin. I'm not being that much of a hypocrite right now, am I? Harris asked himself. If I am...oh, Buffy, do I ever owe you an apology!

"Cordelia was possessed, and you know that," Xander said to Anya after taking a deep breath, forcing himself to focus. "Everything that those things did to her while she was trapped in her own body, all the deaths, everyone that got hurt… you have no idea how hard she's taking this."

Anya shook her head, a knowing look in her brown eyes. "No, of course not. But equally of course, you do, right? Xander, don't think I haven't seen the way you've been acting since we arrived here in this damn hotel. It's been all 'Poor Cordy' this, and 'Poor Cordy' that. You've been mooning over her like a lovesick puppy since the moment we got here!"

"You're being ridiculous," Xander retorted; even though deep inside, he was wondering if there was any truth to those words.

A hurt look shone in Anya's eyes. "Omigod…you're fallen back in love with her, haven't you?"

"I'm not back in love with anyone, okay?" an exasperated Xander all but shouted. "I'm trying to help a friend. The same way I tried to help Willow when she got her 'Wicked Witch of the West' groove on. The same way I went to bat for you when you were sic'ing demon spiders at dirtbag frat boys a few months ago! Cordelia's in trouble, and I'm trying to help her. That's it."

"That's it? You think I can't see what's going on?" Anya retorted heatedly. She had witnessed this scenario too many times over her millennium-plus-long lifespan as Anyanka, most feared of all of D'Hoffryn's vengeance demons. She had seen the way that Cordelia had looked at this guy last night after she was freed from the spell, and the way Xander had been staring at his ex-girlfriend all day yesterday. She knew all too well the classic signs of lust and desire between two people when she saw them.

"I'm not stupid, Xander. Deep down, you want her; it's a guy thing, I've seen it a million times - literally - over the last 1120 years. And right now she wants you too, I can tell!" Anya said just as heatedly as before.

"Okay, Ahn...let's say that, just for the sake of argument, there's the slightest, remotest, almost inconceivable chance that you're right. What of it?" Xander shot back, so much emotion coursing through him that it was making him sick. "Because we're not together anymore, remember? You made that pretty clear to me last year around the time you let Spike give you a quickie on the table in the Magic Box."

Anya flushed with embarrassment at that memory, before quickly recovering. "One, that was a drunken mistake which meant nothing, and two. that wouldn't have ever happened, if you hadn't left me at the altar on our wedding day!"

"Oh, geez...how many more times are we going to have to rehash all that, Ahn?" Xander asked, at the end of his wits and patience. "Almighty Zeus, I'm sorry. I apologized to you a thousand times for that, already; I'm sorry I hurt you that way, and I honestly don't think I'll ever forgive myself for it. But you know what? There comes a time when enough's enough, already. I'm not going to let you hold that particular mistake against me for the rest of my life - 'cause if there's one thing I've learned over the last 24 hours, it's that life's too short for that. So, my suggestion? Get over it, Anya. Because I'm not going to apologize for that again."

With that, he hobbled out of the hotel suite in search of Cordelia, leaving a wounded and wide-eyed Anya in his wake.

The tears fell like rain down Cordelia's cheeks as she slid to the floor after closing the door to her old room - the one Xander had set up shop in with Gunn's help, just yesterday. Trying to keep the noise down, Cordelia's chest heaved with sobs as Anya's harsh words rang like a funeral gong in her brain.

This is all your fault, you know…

You're the one who went and got all possessed and evil in the first place!

If it wasn't for you, we'd be in Sunnydale right now protecting the world from the First Evil. Xander wouldn't have gotten hurt!

But instead, we're here in this God-forsaken city to help clean up your mess, and it nearly cost Xander his life!

Were you trying to get Xander killed, or what?

Apart from that last crack, deep down, Cordelia knew that Anya was right. All of this madness was because of her. It didn't matter that Xander didn't see it that way; she knew, better than most people, how the dweeb had a bad habit of seeing only what he wanted to see.

Xander's blinkered world-view, plus his desire to help and protect the people he cared about, wouldn't let him see the truth. And the truth was simple - Cordelia Chase was responsible for her own actions. People were dead now because she had made the wrong choice once too often. The deaths, the pain, the suffering…they were all on her. Her friends and family could lie to her, but no matter how hard she wished it, Cordelia could not lie to herself.

"It's all my fault," Cordelia murmured to herself, her eyes squeezed shut as images of blood, pain and tears spiralled in her mind's eyes in a macabre whirlwind. "All my fault…all my fault…all my fault…"

A knock on her door distracted her from her thoughts. The Seer knew who it was even without opening the door, however.

"Go away, Xander," she ground out, though her voice sounded miserable.

"Cordy, please. I'm not going anywhere until I'm sure you're okay," his muffled voice came through the door.

"I'm fine. Just go back to bed or whatever, I'm sure Anya would love a chance to play nursemaid," Cordelia shot back with a bit of her old, cutting attitude, hoping that by wounding his pride Xander would leave her alone.

Unfortunately, Harris knew better than that. "One, the bed I was given in this place just so happens to be in there. And two, you're not gonna leave a sick man out here all alone, are you?"

Sighing in resignation, Cordelia opened the door to find Xander's bruised face looking so concerned for her.

Taking in the sight of her tear-stained face, Xander's gaze softened. "Cordy…"

Angrily swiping at the tears, Cordelia turned away from him. "I'm alright, don't worry about it."

"No, you're not," he shook his head. "Look, forget about what Anya said. Besides, she didn't really mean it; it's just that…well, these days I'm sort of a sensitive issue where she's concerned, what with our bad history and all. She got, like, ex-demon vibes or something about what was happening, when she walked into the room just now."

"She was right," Cordelia murmured softly, closing her eyes in pain.

Reaching out and turning her to him, Xander looked the woman in the eyes. "No, she wasn't. God damn it, Cordelia, we've been over this! Sure, you made some bad choices, but it was the Beastmaster and that…Jasmine thing who used you to kill all those people! I don't blame you, and nobody else does either…except for Anya, but whatever! Look, just take a minute, okay? Dry your eyes, and then let's go downstairs to scarf down as many bagels and orange juice as we can before Buffy and Faith eat us out of house and home."

"You go on ahead, alright? I…I don't exactly feel hungry anymore," Cordelia said in a small voice.

"Cordelia…you've gotta eat," Xander gently argued. "Starving yourself isn't going to help anyone, least of all you."

"Xander," the young woman's voice became more assertive now. "Please…I…I'm just not ready to face the others right now. And I really, really need you to let me win this one, okay?"

Despite the urge to yank her out the door or to play the invalid card again, one look at the sad, slightly fearful gaze in Cordelia's hazel eyes and Xander felt his resolve melt. He didn't want to be Pushy Guy on this. Cordelia had to be ready to face the others; and the last thing he wanted to do was to push her into something that she wasn't ready for.

"O…kay, then," Xander shrugged, smiling somewhat nervously. "Um…want me to bring you up a bagel and some OJ?"

"Coffee. Two sugars and half and half, if they have it…thank you," Cordelia replied, offering a small, but grateful smile.

"No problem," Xander smiled back, the two exes staring at each other for a long, painfully long moment; before Harris turned and headed out of the room, hobbling towards the stairs and leaving Cordelia alone with her tortured thoughts.


Hyperion hotel

Later that evening


The assembly of heroes had worked around the clock for most of the day, tracking down any leads on Jasmine. While Willow, Wesley, Giles, and Lindsey were experimenting with tweaking the locator spell necessary to find the missing PTB, Robin and Kennedy were downstairs training the Potentials in the ad hoc workout area - while Faith, Spike, Connor, Darla and Dawn were elsewhere, dealing with the ramifications of Dawn's new powers. The others, meanwhile, had carefully monitored the police scanners for any unusual activity.

They weren't disappointed as the scanners picked up several seemingly random incidents of violence around the LA metro area, with witnesses describing a female with a deformed-looking face of some kind rampaging about. Strip malls, parking lots, a construction site, even a comic book store…each area reporting either critical injuries or homicides.

But each lead had ended the same way - by the time it took the white hats to head over to that location to verify if it was Jasmine, she was already long gone, leaving death and carnage in her wake.

Finally, Angel and Buffy had given up and called off the scouting parties, realizing that they had a better chance of finding Jasmine's exact whereabouts once the locator spell was done. Better to conserve resources than going on a wild goose chase for Jasmine all over one of the biggest cities in the world, after all.

Thanks to Kate calling in a few favors, several detectives who'd arrived at the crime scenes were able to slip her some blood samples of the victims found there - something that Willow had specifically requested her to obtain, if possible. Remembering the spell she had used to track down Warren last year, the redhead had quickly developed her method for how to locate Jasmine.

By the early hours of nightfall, just after the sun had gone down, the crew was more than a little exhausted, and the search for the rampaging PTB still unsuccessful.

Buffy sat opposite the wall with a map of Los Angeles, red tacks marking each suspected Jasmine sighting since this morning - while Angel stood almost directly in front of it, examining the trail.

Grimly, Angel realized that there was no discernible pattern to the PTB's attacks, aside from the fact that Jasmine generally seemed to be headed north. Whether it was for a specific reason, as if she was in search of something, or if she was just lashing out randomly at any target, he couldn't say.

Angel frowned as he studied the trail of red dots on the city's map yet again, searching for answers. "What are you up to?" he asked quietly, more to himself than anyone.

Her super-sensitive ears picking up his musings, Buffy sighed. "If you know the answer to that question, I've got a $64,000 check with your name on it."

Allowing himself a wry smile, Angel looked down towards the petite blonde. "Do you, now?"

"Actually, no. I don't even have $64,000 with my name on it. You should see the collection agency notices that I'm still fending off," Buffy frowned.

Off the small chuckle he let out, Buffy's face was adorned with a small, but bright smile. "Knew I could get a laugh outta you."

"There hasn't been much to laugh about around here, lately," the undead detective mused with a breathless sigh. "I'm kinda surprised I actually remembered how to laugh, it's been that long."

"Well, as I recall you were never really much for the ol' ha-ha stuff, anyway," Buffy shrugged. "I've been wondering whether I need a funny bone transplant, myself. With all the stuff on my plate lately, it's pretty easy to get lost in the grind."

"We just have to keep grinding, I guess," Angel said as he shook his head. He knew the drill by now. Get knocked down, pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and come out swinging.

That was the way the world worked. Or rather, the way his world worked.

Buffy looked up and saw how tired her ex-boyfriend's face looked. Even for an immortal permanently frozen in a handsome 26-year-old body, Angel had started to look - weathered. It was the stress, she knew that. His son, the apocalypse…even Cordelia's welfare, all of it was starting to take its toll on him.

That worried Buffy a lot. She, more than anyone, knew how that kind of stress was enough to drive someone crazy.

Gently, the Chosen One stood up and placed a hand on his shoulder. "We'll find her, Angel," Buffy assured him. "We'll find Jasmine, and we'll put a stop to all of this. And we'll do it together. All of us."

Angel's lips twitched in a half smile as his dark brown eyes lit up for a moment while looking down upon the Slayer.

"I know," he sighed again, before turning back to the map. "I just hope we can do it soon before she kills someone else."

Buffy's eyes wandered over the map again, taking in all the red marks - places where Jasmine had killed people. "I hope so, too."

As if to answer their hopes, Willow's voice rang out, "We got it!"

At once, everyone stopped their work or chatter and gathered around Willow, Giles, Wesley, Fred and Lindsey, who were hovering over a colorful map of LA. Only this map was marked with a blue glowing dot.

"Is that little blue nightlight thing the Power-That-Be-Outta-Her-Mind we're looking for?" Gunn asked.

"Indeed," Wesley replied. "Thanks to Willow's improvisation, the power of the Orb of Makai and the blood samples we were able to obtain from Kate's contacts, we've managed to override Jasmine's resistance to tracking spells and pinpointed a location."

"So, where is she?" Buffy asked.

"If I'm reading this correctly, uh, she-she's headed towards downtown Los Angeles," Giles replied. "She seems to be moving in a, uh, rather odd pattern. It would appear that she was headed north, and then doubled back."

"What's this thing doing?" Fred asked in puzzlement. "I mean, why would she just do an about-face like that?"

"PTS," Kate replied, drawing looks from the others.

Buffy frowned. "You mean that boring channel on TV that nobody watches?"

Kate blinked for a moment, not sure what to say to that, before she explained, "Uh, no, that's PBS. I'm talking about PTS, short for Post Traumatic Stress disorder. I used to see it in rape victims all the time, back when I was on the force."

Angel understood. "This thing's mind might be completely addled. The trauma of what's effectively a botched birth, her big plans having gone up in flames - all of that must be frying her senses."

Lorne gulped. "So, hold the phone - not only are we dealing with a P.O'ed goddess, we're dealing with a crazy P.O'ed goddess?"

Xander shook his head. "Great, it's Glory all over again."

"Err, actually - I-I-I think it's worse than that," Giles said as he eyed the map with some trepidation. "Glory was insane, of course, but she was able to keep some level of self-control when she drained the energies of the human mind from her victims. From the reports we've been hearing, there's no indication that this 'Jasmine' entity is, is even remotely close to gaining any level of control over her mental faculties."

"Hence, the problem," Whistler jumped in as everyone turned to look at the messenger. "Even with most of her powers gone, a deranged PTB out gallivanting around in the City of Angels equals the morgue working overtime around these here parts."

"She's most likely just lashing out at anything and anyone," Wesley grimly stated. "There's no rhyme or reason to her actions now. And that puts the entire populace of the city at risk."

"Just Los Angeles? Try the world, Stubbles," Lindsey replied. "There's no weapon in existence - not a bullet or a bomb or even a goddamn virus - that could stop one of the Powers made flesh. And I should know - the Senior Partners have been looking for a way to do it for eons, according to the files."

"But I thought that 'Jasmine' lost her powers, all that mind control-y stuff," Willow said as she looked at Whistler.

"She has, Sabrina. I checked with the other PTBs via the Conduit earlier this morning, and that well's gone drier than a middle-aged chick with menopause," Whistler explained. "Trouble is, she's still got the shell. That means Jasmine's got all of the perks that come with a body of a goddess - super-strength, invulnerability, even enhanced speed."

Oz frowned. "Hmm. I guess there's still some pop left in that powder keg, after all."

"And with that kind of power, she could wipe out the whole planet," Buffy realized in shock.

"Okay, but here's where I get a little confused," Anya cut in. "I thought you guys said that Little Miss High and Mighty decided to deign us with her presence to try and save us lowly little humans from ourselves. So why would it turn around and decide to wipe us out completely?"

"Well, let's see. We killed its minions, caused her to get born via a mystical premature partial birth, ruined her big plans for world conquest...oh sure, why would any supervillain hold a grudge about all that?" Cordy asked her matter-of-factly.

"Okay, not really caring too much about the 'why' right now. We need to find out where this thing is before someone else ends up dead," Angel said with a hard edge in his voice. The conversations and theories about Jasmine's actions could wait until later. The helpless victims that were at her mercy right now could not.

"She's headed towards the river. At her current course and speed, she should reach the Sixth Street Viaduct bridge in a half-hour," Wesley said, examining the map.

"So, uh, question. Say we get there on time for the big intercept - how do we even know who to look for?" Xander asked.

"I know," Buffy said decisively. "Cordy, Darla and I saw her face last night. I know the witnesses are saying her face is deformed 'n all now, but still - it shouldn't be that difficult to spot her."

Gunn nodded, having heard all he needed to hear. "Alright, guess it's time to saddle up!"

As the others began to head towards the recently fixed weapons cabinet, Angel's voice stopped them. "No. You guys aren't coming."

Shock immediately hit everyone in the lobby.

"What?" Willow asked, puzzled.

"What are you talking about?" Gunn asked in disbelief.

"Angel, you can't go after Jasmine alone," Wesley sternly reminded him. "If she's as powerful as we believe her to be -"

"Then there's no way in hell that we're going to risk you guys getting caught in the crossfire," Buffy interrupted him as she stood by Angel.

"Remember what happened when we went up against the Beast? I figure this is going to be much, much worse," Angel said flatly.

"Look, Angel and I worked it out, and we agreed that the time to pull our punches is over. That's why we're heading after Jasmine together. Alone," Buffy said to the group.

"But, but Buffy, you're gonna need help!" Willow protested. "You heard what Whistler said. You're going to have to throw everything and the kitchen sink at Jasmine to stop her, a-a-and even that might not be enough!"

"Still can't risk it, Will," Buffy shook her head. "Don't forget - there's still the Potentials around here to worry about, and a lot can go wrong real fast in an all-out mob brawl. The less Angel and I have to worry about, the more effective we'll be."

"Best to come out swinging with our hardest punches," Angel added. "Buffy and I are the strongest fighters we have. If we don't succeed, at least there's still a witch, a Slayer, two Watchers, several trained fighters, another vampire and Connor around to throw at her later."

"Uh, gotta say - I don't like this, Angel-cake," Lorne shook his head. "I mean, no offense to you and the Buffster, here - but if an army can't stop this Jas-bitch, just how much better can the two of you alone fare?"

"All we can do is try, Lorne," Angel said with a resigned sigh. True, the undead hero wasn't crazy about this idea. In fact, facing off against Jasmine would probably be the end of him. But Angel knew that he had to do something, without leading the rest of his people into a bloodbath.

Enough people had died and suffered lately, including those closest to him. He wasn't going to let some self-righteous ex-goddess destroy another single life. He'd die first.

Buffy felt the same. If what Skip had said about Jasmine's manipulation of all of their lives was true, then she was the reason why the last seven years of Buffy's life and the lives of her loved ones had turned into a living hell. And that meant that she and Buffy had some unfinished business.

There was a major score to settle. And Buffy intended to settle that score, even if it took her last breath. No one else was going to die because of Jasmine; the Slayer planned to see to that personally.

"Giles," she turned to her Watcher. "My cell will be on the whole night. Call me if there's an emergency. If we haven't checked in by midnight…I think it's gonna be safe for you to assume the worst. If that happens, tell Faith I said for her to take care of the Potentials from now on, and have her send someone to check out the situation in Sunnydale - God only knows what's been happening there since yesterday. The last thing we need is the Hellmouth opening up, or something."

The former librarian looked troubled by her words, but nodded nonetheless. "Of course."

"Um, that thing about assuming the worst, it won't come to that…right?" Fred asked, her question to Angel both poignant and worrisome.

Angel turned a small, reassuring smile to Fred. "We hope not, anyway." Turning to Buffy, he said. "Let's go."

"We have to talk to Dawn and Connor first, remember?" Buffy asked him with an arched brow.

"Oh, yeah," Angel actually looked sheepish for a moment.

"Hold on a minute," Cordy called out, halting both of them. "I'm coming with you, on the Jasmine-hunt."

At that, Xander's head whipped around. "Whoa, what?"

Angel began to shake his head. "Cordy…"

"Yeah, y'know what? Save it, Angel," Cordy brushed him off as she walked towards the weapons cabinet and plucked out a battle axe. "I've got a major axe to grind with this thing…and hopefully, I'll be grinding it against her face."

Buffy immediately began to protest. "Cordelia, this is way too dangerous for you. You're only going to get hurt!"

"Hurt?" Cordelia bit out, furious anger beginning to flare in her eyes. "HURT? For months, I was a prisoner in my own body while some bitch from the Higher Wherever and its toadie killed innocent people, tormented my friends and tried to kill me! Believe me, I'm beyond hurt now. I'm pissed off, I've got an axe and I want blood. Hers!"

"Cordy, c'mon, think about this," Xander tried to reason with her, the thought of her rushing off to meet this unstoppable goddess terrifying him like nothing else. "If this thing is as badass as they say, and if Buffy and Angel don't have much hope of stopping it -"

"I don't care!" Cordy shouted, her beautiful hazel eyes narrowed into angry slits, tears threatening to spill. "Xander, you have no idea what all that was like! You didn't feel what I was going through, what it was like for me to watch helplessly while she hurt the people I loved! She…"

Cordelia's voice wavered as she fought to hold it together. "She raped me. She raped my body, my soul, she took away my freedom of choice…she took everything from me. The things she did while inside of me, I will have to live with for the rest of my life. Every time I close my eyes, I can see it. I can't shut it out, I can't make it disappear, and I can't sweep it under the rug and pretend it didn't happen. It's in me. All the time. That's what I have to live with now." She swallowed, bitterly. "Every time I close my eyes..."

Everyone was silent as they witnessed Cordelia's emotional outburst. Xander swallowed hard, his heart breaking for his ex-girlfriend. As he dwelled on her words of pain, a surge of anger flowed through his badly injured body at the thought of Jasmine.

The only thing that could match the anger Xander felt at this moment was when he had found out about Spike's near-rape of Buffy. Harris had never seen Jasmine's face, but he just wished that he was able to be fully up and about now, so he could take up Cordelia's fight for her and do something to help ease that pain.

A pained look crossed Angel's face. He still blamed himself for all that, knowing that because of Lorne's memory spell which he had allowed to take place, Jasmine had been unleashed - even though none of them could have known that at the time.

His best friend, his Seer, had suffered horribly for that choice.

Still, that just strengthened Angel's resolve as anger flowed through him. Even though they had all suffered greatly because of Jasmine, no one on his team had suffered more than Cordelia. He, of all people, knew what it was like to suffer for the sins that another evil creature committed while in the driver's seat. It was just one more reason to find Jasmine and make her pay.

A look of understanding was reflected in the blue-green eyes of Buffy. She could understand what Cordelia felt, to some extent. All the destroyed lives, all of the guilt on her former Scooby teammate's conscience, even though it wasn't her fault - it still weighed upon her, because she felt like she did something to create it.

Oh, yes, Buffy knew what that was like - she had felt it with every life that Angelus had taken years ago in Sunnydale, after her night of passion with Angel had unleashed the evil, soulless demon within him. Even to this day, the blonde Slayer had never truly forgiven herself for hurting Angel - having to send him to Hell - and for all the people his demon had killed, all because of ignorance regarding that damned gypsy curse.

With a sigh, she looked to Angel, who nodded heavily, before she turned to Cordelia. "You're right. All right, Cordy, you're in."

Nodding gratefully, Cordelia walked up the stairs to join the two warriors.

"Guys…just be careful, okay?" Xander said with a pleading note, his eyes specifically resting on Cordelia.

"We'll try," Buffy shrugged, as she, Angel and Cordelia left to find Dawn and Connor…Cordelia shooting one last, lingering look to her ex-boyfriend as she departed, much to Anya's annoyance.

Willow looked nervously to Giles and Wesley. "Uh, I don't mean to hit the panic button unnecessarily, but if that thing takes down Buffy and Angel - what exactly are we going to do?"

"Pray," Wesley grimly stated, his eyes looking back to the chequered map of Jasmine's murderous path. "Not to mention, find out where the devil Spike and Faith are right now..."


Angel's convertible flew down the streets as the trio of heroes made a beeline for the Sixth Street Viaduct. The farewell meeting with Dawn and Connor had gone about as well as could be expected - namely, not well at all.

Connor and Cordelia couldn't even bear to look at each other. Buffy and Dawn had gotten into an argument over why Big Sis wasn't taking Spike and Faith along, at the very least. And Angel didn't know what to say to his son about his new relationship with the Key - the ensouled vampire knew it was way too late for 'the birds and the bees' talk, after all.

"You sure this is the right way?" Buffy asked as she carefully held the map in place, trying to maintain her grip on it despite the whipping wind blowing with the top down.

"It's a shortcut," Angel replied, his eyes staring firmly ahead on the road. "Shaves about ten minutes off the drive."

"This whole thing of you driving still takes some getting used to," Buffy said. "Up until recently, I didn't think you travelled anywhere outside of walking…or lurking."

"Walking doesn't get you many places around LA," Angel replied. "And I can't exactly fight crime with a bus pass." He frowned. "Well, I suppose I could, but it would just be…cheap."

Buffy chuckled, pleasantly surprised. She was still getting used to this new Angel. He had a car. Friends. A detective agency. A son. Even a sense of humour. He had changed so much over the years, ever since Sunnydale. Buffy would have wondered if those changes had meant a change in how he felt about her - but after his declaration of love last night, the normally insecure parts of her sighed in contentment at the thought of how the more Angel changed, the more he was still the same.

He still liked black. He was still brave and strong and noble and heroic. He was still master of the Art of the Brood. And he still loves me, a part of her heart sang.

However, Buffy knew that it wasn't as simple as that. While her feelings for Angel had never changed over the years, her feelings for Spike had - as had Angel's feelings for Cordelia. Buffy knew that very soon, she would have to have a talk with Spike about where they stood. It wouldn't be fair to Angel or to Spike to keep that issue afloat for much longer.

A look in the rear view mirror suddenly reminded Buffy that they weren't alone. A grim-faced, stony Cordelia was staring outside the convertible, tightly gripping the battle axe she'd picked as a weapon.

Buffy had never seen Cordelia look so serious, or angry. She understood why, though. Buffy could only try to imagine what was going on inside the Seer's mind right now.

Her time with Angel had let her see the kind of anguish and sadness that such remorse over one's past could bring. It was enough to change a person completely. And while Cordelia and she weren't close, Buffy would never have wished the kind of suffering Angel had gone through - still went through - on the brunette.

Despite whatever the Chase woman might have thought of her, deep down, Buffy still considered Cordelia to be a friend…sort of.

"Cordy, you okay back there?" Buffy asked, genuinely concerned.

"Fine," the brunette curtly replied.

Buffy pressed her lips together in concern. "You know, uh…nobody blames you for…for what happened. What Jasmine did…we all know that it wasn't -"

"Buffy, will you please just spare me the pointless 'it wasn't you' speech?" Cordelia cut her off, her eyes visibly hardening in the rear view mirror. "It's starting to sound like a bad breakup line. And I don't need your pity, okay?"

Taken aback by Cordy's snappish answer, Buffy backed off, muttering, "Fine. Sorry…I was just trying to help."

Cordelia, feeling immediately ashamed, softened her glare. "Oh, God…I'm sorry, Buffy, I…I guess I'm just -"

"I know," Buffy said sincerely. "Don't worry about it."

A concerned Angel looked into his Seer's eyes from his rear view mirror. "We're going to find her, Cordy. We'll find Jasmine and take care of her, once and for all."

Despite the assurances of Angel, the troubled look still did not leave Cordelia's face. Angel wished that he could say something, anything, to bring some level of peace to her. He knew, however, that such a thing was not possible.

To accept the forgiveness of her family and friends, Cordelia would first have to start forgiving herself. And Angel knew, better than anyone, just how long that could take without help. He knew the guilt, the pain that came with unfathomable remorse knowing that others had died by one's own hand, because of something else that had taken control.

He had spent a century, a lifetime, coping with all of Angelus's crimes, all the lives he had ruined and destroyed. He wouldn't wish that kind of torment on his worst enemy…the thought that Cordelia, who meant the world to him, would now have to live with that anguish for the rest of her life broke his heart.

Cordelia closed her eyes as she leaned back into the seat for a moment. She hated feeling like this; hated this guilt, this pain that clawed at her heart. She would give everything she had right now to go back to the way she once was; happy and full of purpose and drive, knowing that she made a difference…knowing that she was one of the good guys.

But every moment that passed, she saw Lilah's dead face, heard the surprised gasp that Manny released before she'd hacked his head apart with a meat cleaver, remembered the look of horror on that little boy's face before she'd crushed his skull with a candlestick holder after stabbing his Svear priestess mother and father to death right in front of him.

Their faces, their screams haunted her, and deep down, Cordelia was wondering if she would ever know true peace again…

But then she smiled for a moment, when she thought of the closest thing she'd had to peace as of late…waking up in Xander's arms this morning. That had been something she definitely hadn't expected.

The young woman had thought she was long since over that guy, of course; it had been four years since she'd last seen him, even longer since they'd dated. But that old spark, that familiar, irresistible magnetism between them had been present all day, until the man's face had plagued her thoughts almost as much as her perceived crimes did. But it had helped knowing that Xander was content simply to be there for her, that he didn't judge her, that he didn't want her to open up or come out of her shell or whatever the pop-psych bullshit phrase nowadays was.

No wonder she had kissed him last night, come to think of it. It would have been almost perfect, if not for the blow-up with Anya…not to mention the scalding words the former vengeance demon had let out that had contributed to Cordelia's current mental state.

Her musings were disrupted as Cordelia suddenly saw a familiar-looking figure off in the distance, just as Angel's GTX reached the bridge...a figure surrounded by overturned cars, panicked people running for their lives amidst general panic and mayhem.

Buffy and Angel stared wide-eyed at the scene as the car came to a stop just to the side of the bridge, Angel's eyes trained on the tall African-American woman in the center of the carnage.

"I'm going to go out on a limb here, and guess that that's Jasmine?" Angel guessed.

Warily, Buffy nodded. "That's Jasmine."

Breathing hard, her nostrils flaring with heated breaths, Cordelia angrily eyed the fallen Power with contempt and vengeful fury. There you are...

Buffy reached for her sword. "Any ideas on how we should play this?"

"We go in slowly, use the element of surprise to our advantage," Angel replied, his mind quickly laying out several scenarios for attack. "Our best bet is to try to catch her off-guard, without attracting too much attention to ourselves -"

"Screw that," Cordelia impatiently huffed, grabbing her axe and hastily exiting the vehicle.

Angel's palm flew to his face in annoyance. "Or, we could just charge in and get the crap kicked out of us," he muttered. "Damn it. I knew we shouldn't have brought Cordy along for this!"

With a resigned sigh, Buffy shook her head and quickly leapt out of the vehicle. While she too would have preferred to have stealth on her side, it didn't appear to be an option now. Either way, there was going to be a fight, and she was ready to rumble.

"Cordelia, slow down!" Buffy called out in a tense, yet hushed voice, Angel following close behind. "You don't want to give us away!"

Paying no attention to the Slayer, Cordelia shouted out to the angry ex-goddess. "Hey, Maggot Girl!"

Whirling around, a raging Jasmine turned angry eyes towards the trio.

"That's right, I'm talking to you - you overgrown bedbug!" Cordelia angrily continued her rant.

Jasmine shook her head, almost sardonically. "Perfect. Just exactly the last people I wanted to see. My 'mother'…"

Turning to Buffy, she added, "The little girl who meddled with my plans…"

Then Jasmine turned to Angel. "And you, the vampire who found my true name and ruined everything. So, we meet at last."

"Yeah, believe me, the displeasure's all mine," Angel coldly retorted, clutching his broadsword tightly. "It's over, Jasmine. Your insanity ends here."

"Give it up, Jasmine. You've lost," Buffy declared, her eyes hardening as she readied herself for combat and Angel stepped in front of his Seer.

Jasmine scoffed, incredulous at what she was hearing. "I've lost? Do you three have any idea what you all have done?"

"What we had to do," Angel replied, his voice righteous.

Jasmine shook her head, infuriated at his short-sightedness. How could he not see the beauty, the purpose behind what she had planned? "No! No, Angel, there are no absolutes, no right and wrong. Haven't you learned anything working for the Powers?"

The fallen Power turned milky, sickly eyes towards Buffy. "There are only choices. I offered you paradise, I offered you a world full of peace, full of opportunities, full of light and hope..."

Gesturing to the carnage around the bridge, Jasmine shouted, "But, instead, you chose this! WHY?"

"Because I could," Buffy replied with resolve. "Because that's what you would have taken away from us, isn't it? Choice. That mind-control power you had - that's how you would have brought about world peace, right? By bending everyone on earth to your will, until the only thought they had would be to worship you…like a god."

"It'd be pretty easy to stop fighting with everyone so busy catering to your every whim and desire, wouldn't it?" Angel added, accusingly. "No free will, no choice - just mindless slaves waiting around for another order."

"If that's your idea on how to bring about world peace, then, sorry, no thanks, that sounds totally skippable to me," Buffy said in no uncertain terms.

"Oh, yes. Because humanity has done so well with free will, hasn't it?" Jasmine angrily spat, scorn and disdain smoldering in her dull white eyes. "For millions of years, ever since your race evolved out of the ooze beneath the ground we once walked, I've watched humanity attempt to destroy themselves through war, murder, and senseless violence. You creatures have the same will that only the Powers That Be had, and how did you use that gift? To make weapons, to steal, kill, cheat, hurt one another and the world around you! You poison the very air I used to breathe, you pollute the same sky I used to admire in wonder every single night eons ago. That is what free will has gotten you!"

"Hey, listen, lady - I didn't say we were smart," Buffy shot back. "I just said that it's our right. We might not make the right choices all the time, hell, not even most of the time, but I'd rather make the wrong choices on my own than have anyone decide my life for me and take away my right to choose."

"That's what makes us who we are; it's the only way we can learn in life. By skinning our knees, falling down and learning to get back up, learning from our mistakes. It's what makes us human," Angel said earnestly as he backed up Buffy's argument.

Angrily, Jasmine eyed Angel. "You imbecile. You're not human!" Turning to Buffy, she added, "And neither are you, not really - just like ever other Slayer before you, and the two others that came after you!"

As Buffy angrily stared down Jasmine, she could have sworn that she heard Angel mutter, "Working on it."

That brief sentence drew a confused frown from her as Buffy turned questioning eyes to Angel. The vampire, however, only had eyes for their unstable foe.

With a derisive chuckle, Jasmine waved them off as she turned and began to stalk away. "Go away. I have things to do."

Immediately, the three heroes began to follow. "What things? Killing more people? Hey, just where the hell do you think you're going?" Buffy demanded.

"I said, leave me alone," Jasmine brushed her off as she kept walking, sounding more like a petulant child at the moment than a raging force of nature.

Angel shook his head. "Yeah, sorry, but we can't do that. Doesn't work that way."

"What? You've already ruined everything, all of you…what else do you want, to kill me now? As if you could," Jasmine rolled her eyes, dismissively.

"Maybe not, but it kinda goes with the gig for us good guys. Sacred duty, protect the world, yada-yada-yada, read the brochure," Buffy snarked before she squared her shoulders. "Look, Jasmine, if you think we're just going to keep letting you walk around turning the rest of this city into a bloody promenade...well, then, honey, you've got another thing coming."

"You have no idea what you're doing, little girl," Jasmine threatened.

"You're not the first goddess who ever told me that," Buffy smirked, brandishing her sword. "And I assume you know how all that worked out for her."

"You'll find me a much more formidable opponent than Glorificus, I can assure you. You're picking a fight that you can't win," the fallen Power warned the blonde Slayer.

"Maybe…but I'll die before I let you hurt anyone else," Angel declared, shielding Cordelia behind him while flanking Buffy's right side.

"You're already dead!" Jasmine cried out as she released an incredulous chuckle.

Angel was rapidly getting annoyed. He hadn't come here to banter with this thing; he'd come here to get rid of it once and for all. "You know what I mean. It all ends here. Now."

Taking that as a signal, Buffy nodded to a determined looking Cordelia, both females raising their weapons in preparation for combat.

Buffy's muscles tensed as her pulse quickened, her eyes honed in on Jasmine. Well, here goes…everything…

To their surprise, instead of lashing out or attacking them, Jasmine's eyes welled with tears as she began to cry.

Buffy and Angel looked at each other in shock. Through the years, their enemies had done a lot of things before and during a battle…but crying was definitely not on that list.

Jasmine's milky irises were watery as she sobbed, "Why do you hate me so much?"

Taken aback by the question, Buffy wasn't so sure what to say for a moment, while Cordelia gaped in outrage.

Angel, however, had a laundry list of things to get off his chest as he angrily began ticking each of Jasmine's crimes with his fingers. "Gee, where do we start? Rain of Fire, blocking out the sun, sic'ing the Beast on my crew, stealing my soul, trying to enslave mankind, nearly killing Cordy, Darla and Buffy, manipulating my son, and hey, oh, that's right…you've killed dozens of people in the last few hours!"

Jasmine merely scoffed at the undead Champion. "Like you've never killed anyone before? Don't throw stones if you sleep in a glass coffin, Angelus."

Angel's lips narrowed into a thin line as he glowered at her, yet stayed silent.

"Angel," Buffy cut in, her eyes hard and her tone harsh. "His name is Angel. Got that, Larvae Gal? And, furthermore, whatever his psycho other half did in the past pretty much pales in comparison to what you -"

"How easily they forget," Jasmine shook her head, interrupting her. "You think Angel and Angelus are so separate? You really think the soul makes that much of a difference? Because your lover has taken human life with his soul intact, little girl, a certain incident aboard a submarine sixty years ago comes to mind..."

"I don't care," Buffy shot back, even though she couldn't help wondering what exactly Jasmine was talking about - especially given the shocked look on Angel's face. "Thousands of people are dead because of what you've done, Jasmine."

"And how many more will die now because of you and your friends?" the creature walked closer to the trio, each of whom tensed for battle, although the fallen Power simply continued to plead her case. "I could've stopped it. All of it! War, disease, poverty…every last wretched drop of suffering. Children would have grown up healthy and strong, with families full of love and harmony. Peace spreading around the world like a wondrous, precious sea wave. How many precious, beautiful lives would've been saved in only a handful of years? Yes, I murdered thousands…to save billions."

"What about all of the lives that you destroyed along the way to getting what you wanted?" Angel demanded, his eyes offering no hint of mercy. He was sick and tired of him, his family and the lives of so many innocents being treated like no more than just pawns on a cosmic chessboard. "Are you saying their lives were less precious than the people you claimed you wanted to save? Who the hell gave you the right to decide who lives and dies?"

"I did! I'm not human, vampire - so don't try to treat me as one!" Jasmine angrily declared. "I did what I did because someone had to! I was trying to save this world!"

"No. You were trying to rule it," Buffy countered, just as heatedly. "And you weren't going to let anything stop you. You think we don't get it? It didn't matter to you whose lives you wrecked, or who you killed. There's nothing selfless about that…it's just ruthless. And sick. And evil. You so-called gods and higher powers are all the same; you're a bunch of selfish dirt-bags who don't care about anyone but yourselves!"

Jasmine's face contorted in anger as she saw the meaning behind those words. "I am nothing like Glorificus!"

"I know. You're worse," Buffy shot back, her fists balled in anger. This thing was not going to get any sympathy from her. "Glory was an insane maniac and an evil bitch, but you know what? At least she never pretended to be anything else. She was a hellgod, it woulda been crazy of us to expect her to act any other way. But you, Jasmine? A higher power? One of the Powers That freakin' Be? For you to fall so far and act so low, to betray everything you're supposed to stand for…that's what makes you a monster!"

"I will not be spoken to in this way by a mortal!" Jasmine thundered.

"Then maybe you'll be a little more willing to listen to me!" Cordelia spoke up as she stepped in front of Jasmine.

Angel, feeling uneasy about having Cordelia so close to this dangerous thing, tried to pull her back behind him. "Cordy -"

"Shut up, Angel!" Cordelia snapped as she swatted Angel's hand away, before she turned her heated glare to Jasmine. There was no doubt the young woman was barely holding herself back from going postal on Jasmine's ass, and that her self-control wouldn't last much longer…

"You have no idea…NO IDEA…what kind of damage you've caused. And it's not just the people you and the Beastmaster killed, no - I'm talking about my family! I'm talking about Angel, and Connor, and Wesley, and Fred, and Gunn, and Lorne. I'm talking about my friends in Sunnydale, how you played with and manipulated their lives like we were just toys at your disposal! And yeah, I'm talking about me! Everything I went through, since the day Buffy showed up in Sunnydale! You took everything that ever mattered to me and you tarnished it, you ruined it, you made it a sick joke!"

Jasmine's eyes softened. "Cordelia, please try to understand…I was trying to make this world a better place. I needed your body, and I needed a unique and beautiful soul to give birth to myself -"

"YOU VIOLATED ME, YOU FUCKING BITCH!" Cordelia screamed, her hazel eyes filling with angry tears as she shook. "I was either going to die or end up a vegetable, after you were done with me! You crawled inside me, used me up and you took everything! And the worst part of it was that I felt it! I experienced every single horrible thing that you and the Beastmaster did, every drop of blood you spilled using my hands, every lie you hurt my friends with using my voice, my lips..."

Cordelia's body was literally shaking. "It's all I can think about, it's eating me up inside! You can try to justify yourself to everyone else, but not to me. You were going to use me and then just throw me away like I was trash or something, you ugly monster, like I was nothing? Well, newsflash - I. AM. NOT. NOTHING! You destroyed my life, Jasmine, and I swear on everything I've ever loved, that I'm gonna make you PAY!"

With that, Cordelia raised her axe, coming forward and intending to slice through the so-called goddess's neck…

…when suddenly, Jasmine retreated fearfully, backing away from Cordelia as if she were a leper, tripping over her own feet as she stumbled to the ground.

Swiftly, Angel grabbed Cordelia's hand, stopping her in her tracks. He didn't know what was going on, if the look of fear on Jasmine's face was merely a feint of some kind - but just in case, it would be best to play it safe for now.

Oddly, it didn't enter into Angel's undead mind that Cordelia, as Jasmine's 'mother', might actually be able to hurt and/or kill the fallen Power even if he and Buffy couldn't.

Immediately, Cordelia squirmed and fought in his grip. "Let me go! Angel! Get off of me, LET. ME. GO!"

"No," Angel said, his voice both hard with grit yet soft with understanding. "She's hurt you long enough, I'm not going to risk her killing you. Please, Cordy…"

"I hate her! I HATE HER!" Cordelia screamed and railed, even as Angel pressed her close to him in a hug, holding the Seer until she dissolved into tears, crying on his shoulder. "I hate her…"

Ignoring the ill-timed spurt of jealousy that kicked at her gut, Buffy shook her head in sympathy for Cordelia's pain. Oh, God…poor Cordy. She looks so broken…

Eyeing Jasmine on the ground, Buffy realized something. "Y'know, for someone who's all with the boasting about being invulnerable 'n all, you sure backed away from that little ol' axe in a hurry, didn't you?"

Jasmine glared at her balefully, but said nothing.

"Oh yeah, I get it now. It's got something to do with Cordelia, doesn't it?" Buffy pressed. "Makes sense, I guess - you used her body to make the one you're using right now. Okay, 'fess up! Before I let Cordy loose on your ass, and we see just what happens to you!"

"Fine," Jasmine spat defiantly. "Yes…it does have something to do with Cordelia. She and Connor are my tether to this world. The toys you brought wouldn't be enough to stop me…but if either of my parents were to strike me down…well, I couldn't defend myself against them."

As Angel loosened his grip on Cordelia, he realized just what Jasmine was talking about. "You're saying...that Cordelia and Connor are the only things in this world that can kill you."

Jasmine's eyes lowered. "Yes."

It took Cordelia all of one second to process this before she picked up the axe and tried to lunge towards Jasmine's prone form, before Buffy held her back.

"Cordy," she gently said. "Hang on a sec."

"Why?" Cordelia asked, baffled. "We came here to kill this thing, didn't we? So, back off and let me finish this! I'm the only one here who can do it..."

"Yeah, we all heard what she said, but…something's not right here," Buffy said, sensing that there was more to this puzzle that didn't add up yet; for example, what exactly the First Evil's role in all this was. So Buffy took a few tentative steps towards Jasmine, kneeling down next to her.

"Buffy," Angel warned, not liking her close proximity to Jasmine.

"Angel, it's okay," Buffy replied, before she turned to the black woman. "Your powers…whatever you have left…can you read minds?"

"Why would that matter?" Jasmine asked, confused and irritated.

"Can the attitude! Now, can you read my thoughts or not?" Buffy snapped.

After a beat, Jasmine relented. "Yes…but only through contact with your blood. The memories are there, within it. That's part of your legacy from the first Slayer, as a matter of fact, the reason why the Chosen always dream of their predecessors at first."

Buffy nodded. "Good." With that, she took her sword, and slowly drew it across her palm, drawing a straight line of crimson. "I tried to tell you before, Jasmine, but you wouldn't listen. But maybe now, you can finally see the truth. See what you were really brought to Earth for. But I've gotta warn you - the truth hurts."

Eyeing the Slayer suspiciously, yet intrigued by her cryptic words, Jasmine slowly reached her hand out and touched the bloody line on Buffy's hand. Immediately, the images of Whistler and Lindsey and the sound of their voices began to tumble around in her mind…

This nameless Power hasn't got clue-one about it, but…the other Powers figured out that it was being played, all along. By the First…

This Power was making some big-time moves, but meanwhile, the First Evil was making moves of its own. From eons back. It sent in a kind of…parasite, to infiltrate the Higher Planes…

Eventually, they got tired of floating above all life without actually living, they yearned to experience the mortal realm for themselves…

The First knew about that, and played on that…

Made a deal with them, a couple eons ago - to start manipulating this Power, whisper in its ear, urge it to change the world instead of just letting things play out. Start setting the stage for the First's big corporeal debut on Earth…

In exchange, they could keep Cordelia's body, the First would get the Power's new flesh-y threads, everybody wins - except the humans and all of existence, of course…

Gasping, Jasmine recoiled in horror, as the awful truth of how she'd been deceived for such a foul purpose was revealed.

"No," Jasmine uttered, her eyes staring away in forlorn shock. "Oh, no, no, no…what have I done? What have I done?"

For a moment, Buffy almost pitied the creature alongside her as she saw the tears flow down Jasmine's face. She truly had had no idea that she was being played with, right from the start.

Still, none of that excused all the horrors that Jasmine committed, so pity never actually came into consideration here and now.

"I told you…you've been played," Buffy answered the rhetorical question. "There's a lot that you have to answer for, Jasmine. But if you want to start making amends…well, you can start by telling us what you know about the First Evil."

"How do we stop it?" Angel asked, his voice probing. "There has to be something you know that can help us defeat it. The whole world's at risk, and if you love it as much as you claim, then you'll help us to protect it from the First."

"You can't…you don't understand. You can't win," the fallen Power shook her head. "You can't win against the First."

"Why not?" Angel demanded. "Everything has a weakness, nothing is invincible. Not even the First, otherwise it would have taken over the world a long time ago. Help us, damn it!"

"I told you, you can't do it! No one can!" Jasmine wailed. "I was the only one who could have banished it from this plane, if my plan had come to fruition. That was the whole point of…but it's too late now."

Buffy shook her head. "No. I don't believe that, there's always a way. You have to know something that we can use, right? Come on, I'm willing to take anything right now!"

Cordelia frowned as she turned around Jasmine's words in her mind. For the moment, she was able to put the loathing and bloodlust to one side as she asked, "What was the whole point?"

Angel turned to Cordelia, puzzled. "What?"

The brunette continued to talk to Jasmine, though, angrily snapping her fingers. "Hey! Mommy's talking here, bitch! You just said your plan had a whole point. Was it to stop the First? Was that this 'whole point' you were yammering about?"

Jasmine looked down, which let Buffy know that they were onto something. "Jasmine?"

The ex-goddess sighed, looking down in misery. "Yes. Apart from bringing my love to this entire world, I would have also banished all the hate within it. All the...evil. That would have erased the First Evil from existence, for all time."

Angel's brow furrowed as he tried to make sense of this. "Why? Apart from taking out the enemy, I mean. Why would someone like you actually care about destroying the First?"

"It doesn't matter anymore," Jasmine muttered.

"The hell it doesn't!" Buffy snapped. "A lot of people are going to die if we don't stop the First's rampage. Including all the Potential Slayers left in the world! So tell me the real reason why you wanted to destroy it. You can help us. Talk, damn it!"

"Because I created it, alright?" Jasmine shouted suddenly in defiance. "The First exists because of me! Despite its propaganda that it's always existed, and will always exist…both I and the rest of the Powers That Be are the reason why the First Evil exists in the first place!"

The shocked and thunderstruck faces on the looks of the three heroes spoke more than words could say.

A stunned Buffy finally managed to quietly utter, "Okay…gotta admit. Didn't see that one coming."


TBC…


Next: Jasmine reveals the true history of the First Evil to a stunned Angel, Buffy and Cordelia…a history which gives insight to the real-and horrifying-ultimate goal of the First.

Spike and Faith. A bar. Drinks. Dancing. (Yup, a recipe for trouble, but oh, so much fun!)

And the First and its new minions get set to make their move…one with deadly repercussions.

Well, that's all for now. Update to come soon, same Angel time, same Buffy channel!

Take care, Spike Your Hair! (and a big internet hi-five from me to you if you get that reference!)

-Jean-theGuardian