Author's Note (11/13/2022) - Originally Ms. Hellfire was before Surprise and Innocence. With the fact I began dating the episodes to denote the passage of time. I found I had to move it because it took place on Friday the 13th. The nearest Friday the 13th was in February of 1998. So I had to move it after Surprise and Innocence.
On a side note, most sources list Buffy's birthday as being on January 19th. I suspect that is because that was when this episode aired. But if you pay attention to the episode there is multiple days within the episode. Buffy's birthday happens on the second day in the episode. With the episode Innocence taking place mainly on the third day. So if the start of the episode takes place on the actual day the episode aired, then Buffy's birthday is on January 20th. Of course this is just personal opinion as there is no concrete proof of what day it falls. The only line in the entire series that pinpoints the date says she is a 'Capricorn on the cusp of Aquarius' (that's in a later episode, can't remember which offhand). That specifies any number of days between January 17th and January 23rd. That narrows it down to a seven day range but that's as close as we've ever gotten. I kind of wish The Gift when they showed Buffy's tombstone had done month, date and year instead of just year, that would have put to bed any doubt on what day it was.
Chapter 34: Surprise
January 19, 1998 – Monday
Buffy's Dreamscape
In her sleep, Buffy stirred. She opened her eyes, registering the stillness, and turned on the light, crowned with an upside-down lampshade, on her nightstand. She took a drink of water and slowly got out of bed.
Then she padded down the hall to the bathroom in her blue satin pajamas and black tank top . . .
Drusilla stepped behind Buffy and followed her down the hall.
Sleepily, Buffy opened the door to the bathroom, and inexplicably stepped into P4.
Though there was no band, music echoed hauntingly off the walls as smiling couples glided together. Making her way through what seemed a maze of languid, otherworldly images, Buffy was dazed. She felt as though she were underwater, and yet, she was part of the otherworldly scene, so she didn't quite make sense, either.
Willow was perched in the owner's alcove. A large cup of coffee steamed on a saucer, and an organ grinder's monkey in a little red cap and jacket chittered beside Willow on the table. Very matter-of-factly, Willow told Buffy, in French, "The hippo stole his pants." Then she smiled perkily and waved at Buffy. Buffy waved uncertainly back.
Bewildered, she walked on, to come upon Prue, standing by a post and drinking coffee from a cup very much like Willow's. As she lifted the cup to her lips, she regarded Buffy eerily and asked her cousin, "Do you really think you're ready, Buffy?"
Buffy frowned. "What?"
As Buffy waited for a response, the saucer slipped from Prue's grasp, crashed to the floor, and shattered. As if she didn't even notice, Prue blankly turned and walked dreamily away.
Again, Buffy moved on, finding herself on the dance floor. Couples danced, the whispery, sensuous music twining around them, as Buffy wandered, alone.
Then the crowd parted.
And like a candle in the darkness, Angel was there. Dressed all in black, he was the center of the room; there was light in his face—for her—and light in her heart, as their eyes met and held. Though he stood several feet away, she felt his touch on her skin, the brush of his lips on her cheek.
As if in a trance, they walked toward each other, hands outstretched.
Then like an attacking beast, Drusilla appeared behind Angel. As Buffy watched in horror, the vampire raised a large, gleaming knife and stabbed him viciously in the back.
Buffy screamed, "Angel!"
His shaking hand strained toward hers, crumbling to ashes before her eyes. He had time to look at her, with a soft moan, and agony in his eyes—Buffy, help me; love me forever. . .
He exploded into dust.
Drusilla stood fully revealed in her true vampire face, her golden eyes shining with glee. "Happy Birthday, Buffy," she said, relishing Buffy's despair.
Halliwell Manor
Buffy bolted upright, panting and sickened with terror.
She was in her bed.
It had been a dream.
Angel's Apartment
Since moving to San Francisco, Angel had lived in a sub-basement apartment. He kept the lights muted, favoring Japanese-style lamps of paper, and decorated the apartment with only a few prized possessions from his many years of life.
There was a soft knock at his door. It was just past dawn, and he had been fast asleep. Muzzily, he got out of bed in his drawstring sweats and moved to answer the door.
"Angel?" Buffy called through the door.
The sound of her voice both delighted and puzzled him. He was unused to seeing her during the day. "Hold on," he told her, opening the door.
She was beautiful, dressed for school in a very short black-and-white dress and a white jacket.
He was very aware of the fact that he was half-dressed as he stepped back to let her in. "Hey, I . . . everything okay?" he asked her, his protective concern for her at least temporarily replacing his instantaneous reaction of lust upon smelling her vanilla perfume and sweeping his gaze over her body.
She gazed up at him, searching his face. Her face was clouded with worry. "That's what I was going to ask you. You're okay, right?"
He was thrown by the alarm in her voice. "Sure. I'm fine. What's up?"
She walked in and set down her purse, looking away. She wiped her mouth and looped her hair around her ear, gestures she made when she was nervous or uneasy. "I had this dream that Drusilla was alive."
Angel asked softly, "What happened?" In a gesture of good manners, and not from any desire on his part to do so, he moved to put on his shirt as he waited for her answer.
Buffy spoke in a rush, looking up at him as if to reassure herself that he was still there. "She killed you. Right in front of me."
"It was just a dream," he soothed, longing to comfort her in his embrace. "It wasn't real."
"It felt so real." Her voice was raspy and frightened. Her eyes were huge in her delicate face.
He tried to satisfy his need to hold her by cupping her cheek. "It wasn't. I'm right here."
She moved her face into his hand, then took a breath and rushed on. "Angel, this happened before. This felt like many of my other premonitions, though very few have happened when I've been asleep."
"What ones have you had when you were asleep?" Angel questioned.
"The ones I had about the Master," Buffy answered.
"Still," he said now, trying to calm Buffy, as he touched the lapel of her jacket, "not every dream you have is a premonition. I mean, what else did you dream last night?" He kept his voice gentle. "Can you remember?"
She thought a moment. Then she looked a little sheepish. "I dreamed that Giles and I opened an office supply warehouse in Vegas."
He smiled. "You see my point."
"Yeah. I do." She looked down, then back up at him. "But what if Drusilla is alive? I mean, we never saw her body."
He embraced her gently to stop the torrent of words, and of her fear. "She's not." His voice was firm and he looked at her steadily, though his own alarm was growing. "But even if she was, we'd deal."
Buffy was not placated. "But what if she—"
This time, he silenced her with a kiss. She tensed for a second, and then she relaxed into it.
With extreme difficulty, he finished the kiss, pulling gently away, though inside he was on fire. "What if what?"
Her voice was a whisper, as she said, "I'm sorry. Were we talking?"
Who began the next kiss? They moved as one being; when their lips touched, they both gasped. Arms reached, caressed, embraced; rings glinted as fingers gripped arms and shoulders, caressed necks, and caught up handfuls of hair. The kiss grew; was it another kiss or the same one?
She leaned up and into him; he was bowed slightly over her, wanting her desperately, his passion rising. And then she broke away, looking a little frightened, and stammered, "I'm sorry, I . . . I have to go to school."
She turned and almost ran, and though he said, "I know," he followed her, grabbed her arm, and pulled her around into his embrace.
They were kissing again, as they were meant to. "Oh, God, you feel—" she whispered.
In that moment, he knew he had a choice to make. He chose for her, not for himself. He said, "You have to go to school."
She began to walk backward toward the door. "All right. This is me. I'm going."
Her gaze said otherwise. He pursued her. He couldn't stop himself. He came up to her and put his arms around her. The door was a welcome barrier to her flight as her back pushed against it. She raised her right hand slightly and it fluttered down onto his shoulder as she moaned. He kept kissing her, allowing himself to reveal how much he wanted her, his need growing, as he neared her neck with his kisses. He almost bit down. She gave a tiny cry, perhaps not realizing what she was doing, and then they both smiled a little.
She would never realize what it took for him to break the mood as he said, "You still haven't told me what you want for your birthday,"
She smiled sweetly at him, looking girlish and a little shy, and said, "Surprise me."
"Okay."
This kiss was the last for now; they both knew it, and there was a calm finality to it.
"This is nice," Buffy murmured, more at ease now. "I like seeing you first thing in the morning."
"It's bedtime for me," Angel reminded her.
"Then I like seeing you at bedtime," she countered. She blinked, as if she realized how that sounded. And again, she was a young girl, blushing and stammering, "I—you know what I mean . . ."
He took it upon himself to smooth over the situation. "I think so." Then he realized he was not that noble. "What do you mean?"
"That I like seeing you." Her face lost all shyness, if not its heartbreaking sweetness. "And the part at the end of the night where we say goodbye, it's getting harder."
Angel looked deep into her eyes. "Yeah," he admitted. "It is."
They gazed at each other. Neither spoke again.
They were both too afraid to.
Gateway High School
Willow could not contain her amazement. She stared wide-eyed at her best friend. "'I like seeing you at bedtime?' You actually said that?"
Buffy shrugged, but she was embarrassed and excited and well, a little proud, too. Her cheeks were very warm. "I know. I know."
Willow wasn't finished. "Man. That's like . . . I don't know. That's moxie or something!"
"Totally unplanned," Buffy assured her with a wave of her hand. "It just came out."
"And he was into it?" Willow persisted. "He wants to see you at bedtime, too?"
"Yeah," Buffy said. "I think he does. I mean, he's cool about it."
"Well, of course he is," Willow said brightly. " 'Cause he's cool. He would never, you know—"
"Push," Buffy finished for her.
Willow nodded. "Right. He's not the type."
Loyal Willow.Buffy was so glad she had someone she could really talk to.
"Willow, what am I going to do?"
"What do you want to do?" Willow asked back.
"I don't know," Buffy answered, trying to be honest. The two sat down at the same time and faced each other. "I mean, want isn't always the right thing to do. To act on want can be wrong."
Willow considered. "True."
"But to not act on want." Buffy frowned at the thought of never being with Angel, really being with him. "What if I never feel this way again?"
Willow smiled."Carpe diem. You told me that once."
Buffy was bewildered. "Fish of the day?"
Willow's smile grew into a chuckle. "Not carp. Carpe. It means 'seize the day.' "
"Right." Buffy hesitated. Her heart was racing. "I think we're going to," she admitted finally. "To seize it. Once you get to a certain point, then seizing is sort of inevitable."
She looked for Willow's reaction—shock? disapproval?—but as she had anticipated, Willow was clearly on her side. "Wow," she said, a bit wistfully, obviously very impressed.
Buffy smiled, feeling a little shy, a little excited, and very relieved. "Yeah."
"Wow," Willow repeated, in the same awed tone.
The school bell rang. Buffy groaned and stood up. Willow did the same, trailing after her.
"Wow," she said again. She caught up with Buffy. "Wow."
Buffy said, more happily, "Yeah." Then she glanced over at the concrete picnic tables—more specifically, at a guy sitting on top of one of them, strumming an electric guitar. A large black amp sat beside him on the table. "Hey," she drawled coyly, "speaking of wow potential, there's Oz over there. What are we thinking? Any sparkage?"
Willow glowed. "He's nice. I like his hands."
Buffy was delighted. "Ooh, fixing on insignificant details is a definite crush sign."
"I don't know, though," Willow added humbly. "I mean, heis a senior."
Buffy was unimpressed, although, in theory, she understood Willow's hesitation. "You think he's too old 'cause he's a senior? Please. My boyfriend had a bicentennial."
Willow's voice rose. "That's true." Then she began to lose her nerve again. "I guess . . . I just . . ."
Buffy sensed it was time to push. "You can't spend the rest of your life waiting for Xander to wake up and smell the hottie. Make a move," she prodded. "Do the talking thing."
Willow was not thoroughly convinced. "What if the talking thing becomes the awkward silence thing?"
"Well, you won't know unless you try," Buffy reminded her. Then she moved on ahead, leaving Willow to do just that.
0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0
Giles was walking through the school lounge with his briefcase and a few copies of some archeology magazines when he caught sight of Xander. "Good morning," he said pleasantly. "Everything in order for the party?"
"Absolutely," Xander replied, but he seemed a little downhearted. "Ready to get down, you funky party weasel?"
Just then, Giles spied Buffy and Ms. Calendar coming down the stairs. As they drew near, he leaned toward Xander and whispered. "Ah. Here comes Buffy. Remember—discretion is the better part of valor."
"You could have just gone, ssh," Xander shot back. "God, are all you Brits such drama queens?"
Buffy and Ms. Calendar came up beside them. Xander shifted his attention and said, in a sweetly teasing voice, "Buffy, I feel a pre-birthday spanking coming on." He rubbed his hands together in mock anticipation.
Buffy gave him a look that would melt steel as Ms. Calendar said, "I'd curb that impulse if I were you, Xander."
"Check," he said, pretending to talk into a lapel microphone. "Cancel spanking."
Buffy and Ms. Calendar sat at a round table. Giles and Xander joined them.
Giles frowned gently at Buffy. She looked pale and drawn. "Are you all right, Buffy? You seem a little fatigued."
"Rough night," Buffy admitted. "I had a dream that Drusilla was alive. And she killed Angel." She made a face, as if even saying the words upset her. "It just really freaked me out."
Giles moved into Watcher mode without even thinking about it. "So you feel it was a premonition," he observed.
Buffy moved her shoulders as she sighed. "See, I don't know. I don't want to start a big freak-out over nothing—"
"Still. Best to be on the alert. If Drusilla is alive, it could be fairly cataclysmic."
"Again," Xander reproved, "so many words. Couldn't you just say we'd be in trouble?"
Giles had painfully learned the value of patience, through his dealings with Xander, and he mentally thanked him again for another small lesson as he said tiredly, "Go to class, Xander."
"Gone." Xander stood and turned to leave. Then he looked back at the group. "Notice the economy of phrasing. 'Gone.' Simple. Direct."
And he made himself gone.
Buffy rose from of her chair. "Maybe I should get gone, too."
Giles also stood. Attempting to act unconcerned, he said, "Don't worry yourself unduly, Buffy. I'm sure it's nothing."
"I know." She tried to look less nervous. "I should keep my Charmed Slayer cool. But it's Angel, which automatically equals maxi-wig."
Giles smiled at her as she left to start her day as a high school student.
January 20, 1998 – Tuesday
Halliwell Manor
In the kitchen, Piper was clearing the breakfast plates while Buffy looped on her stretchy wire bracelets. An open birthday card sat on the counter.
It was the morning of Buffy's seventeenth birthday. She felt refreshed and up. No bad dreams and a good night's sleep. She was having a birthday just like any other high school kid with the misfortune to be born on a school day.
"Mall trip for your birthday on Saturday," Piper reminded her. "Don't forget."
Buffy gave Piper a look. "Space on a Piper-sponsored shopping opportunity? Not likely."
"So," Piper said, "does seventeen feel any different than sixteen?"
"It's funny you should ask that," Buffy replied cheerily. "You know, I woke up feeling more mature, responsible, and level-headed."
Piper knew her cousin was up to something. "Really? It's uncanny."
Buffy nodded. "I now possess the qualities one looks for in a licensed driver." She was asking the big question, and Prue obviously got it.
"Buffy, you're going to have to take that up with Prue," Piper interjected.
"Piper, Prue is… dragging her feet," Buffy told her middle cousin. "She's worried I will get in an accident or something my first time out. How can I prove to her otherwise if I can't drive."
Piper knew Buffy was right. Prue had always been protective of her and Phoebe and now that Buffy was living with them she knew Piper had become protective of Buffy. "I'll talk to her, okay?" she offered.
Buffy smiled. "Thanks."
Prue walked into the kitchen having heard the entire conversation. She had a plate in her hand. "Do you really think you're ready, Buffy?" she asked, echoing the question she had asked in Buffy's nightmare.
Then the plate slipped from her hands and shattered on the floor.
Buffy stiffened in shock. She went numb from head to toe, as if she had been plunged in ice water.
"Damn," Prue cursed.
"Don't worry about it Prue," Piper told her elder sister. "Buffy, could you get the broom?" she asked.
There was no response from Buffy. Prue and Piper look up and saw that their cousin was gone. Then they heard the front door slam.
"What's wrong with Buffy?" Prue asked suddenly concerned.
Piper shrugged. "I don't know."
Gateway High School
Buffy sat in the library with Giles, her stomach clenched with nerves. It was so hard to believe this was the same day she'd awakened to: the early morning so nice, and now everything so out of whack. "And then Prue broke the plate," she continued, telling him about her morning. "It was just like my dream. Every gesture. Every word. It was so creepy."
Giles considered thoughtfully. "Yes. I'd imagine it would be fairly unnerving." He sat on the study table with his pastel-striped coffee mug in his left hand as Xander and Willow came bursting into the room.
"Hey," Xander called, "it's the woman of the hour."
Willow skipped over to Buffy to give her a big hug. "It's happy birthday Buffy!" She must have sensed Buffy's mood, because she backed off and raised her eyebrows. "Not happy birthday Buffy?"
Buffy glumly sat in her chair. Giles took over. "It's just that . . . a part of the nightmare Buffy had the other night actually transpired."
Even hearing him say it gave Buffy a wiggins.
"Which means Drusilla might still be alive," Buffy added, raising the wiggins bar a couple of extra notches. She turned to Giles for support. "Giles, in my dream, I couldn't stop her. She blindsided me. Angel was gone before I knew what happened."
Giles looked at her dead on. "Even if she is alive, we can still protect Angel. Dreams aren't prophecies, Buffy. You dreamed the Master had risen, but you stopped it from happening."
Xander nodded, crossing his arms over his chest. "You ground his bones to make your bread."
Somewhat comforted by Xander's firm, no-nonsense tone, Buffy relaxed a tiny bit. "That's true. Except for the bread part. Okay, so, fine. We're one step ahead." She gazed levelly at her Watcher. "I want to stay that way."
"Absolutely." Giles jumped into action. "Let me read up on Drusilla. See if she has any particular patterns. Why don't you meet me here at seven? We'll map out a strategy."
"What am I supposed to do until then?" she asked softly, feeling cast adrift.
He gestured with his mug as he walked into his office. "Go to classes, do your homework, have supper."
"Right," she murmured, standing and gathering up her white backpack and jacket. "Be that Buffy."
0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0
It had been a long day, especially for a birthday. When you don't have a lot of friends at school, not many people know it even is your birthday. Now the only special event on her birthday night would be her seven o'clock meeting with Giles.
As she walked down the empty corridor, Ms. Calender stepped from the shadows. "Payson," she said, as Buffy jumped, startled.
Buffy smoothed back her hair. "Oh, my Goddess. I didn't see you there."
"Sorry," Ms. Calendar apologized. "Giles wanted me to tell you that there's been a change of plans. He wants to meet you someplace near his house." She shrugged. "I guess he had to run home and get a book or something."
Buffy blinked. "'Cause heaven knows there aren't enough books in the library."
Loyally, Ms. Calendar replied, "He's very thorough."
"Which is not to big," Buffy said quickly, not wanting to sound catty. After all, he was doing all this research to protect Angel. "It's kind of manly in an obsessive-compulsive kind of way, don't' you think?"
"Mmm-hmm. You know, my car's here," the teacher answered, effectively brushing the question away. "Why don't I drive you?"
"Okay," Buffy said.
Streets of San Francisco / P4
They got in Miss Calendar's classic VW Beetle. The teacher started driving through narrow dark alleys and not really anywhere near Giles's place. Buffy scanned their surroundings, fairly confused.
"We're going to P4?" she queried.
"I'm not sure." Miss Calendar kept her eyes on the road. "Giles gave me an address. I'm just following his directions."
There was a loading dock just up ahead. A large white truck was parked there, and three suspicious-looking guys were loading a rectangular box.
"This looks funky. Stop for a sec," Buffy requested.
Ms. Calendar slowed, but didn't immediately stop. "No, Payson," she said tentatively. "Maybe you shouldn't."
"Sorry." Buffy shrugged. "Sacred duty, yada yada yada." She then disappeared in bright flames.
Miss Calendar, left behind, murmured, "What is this?"
Buffy appeared in bright flames near the driver's door, one of the possibly bad guys on the loading dock moved beneath an overhanging light. Buffy recognized him as the vampire Dalton, a timid little minion of Spike's.
Buffy shook her head and sighed. "Every time I see you, you're stealing something."
Upon seeing her, Dalton growled.
Buffy continued, "You really should speak to somebody about this klepto issue."
The truck engine roared to life. Buffy turned her head to see what was going on. Dalton took advantage to finish carrying his burden into the truckbed, just as the driver's door opened and a vampire in a plaid shirt kicked at Buffy's chest.
She reached into the cab of the truck, grabbed the plaid shirt, and yanked him out. He fell to the ground as a fireball formed in her hand; when he stood, she tossed the fireball and he immediately burst into flames before exploding to dust.
She stood with her back toward the truck, close to the cab as another attacker reached down from the truckbed and hoisted her up by her shoulders, pinning back her arms as he flung her into the truck. This guy was dressed in forever plaid, too. She used his own momentum against him, pushing him backward against a pile of boxes against the wooden slats, then breaking his grip and headbutting him.
0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0
Inside P4, Angel, Prue, Piper, Phoebe and the others hid, waiting to spring out and surprise Buffy. Impatiently, Angel murmured, "Where is she?" as the others peered over the pool table, which was laden with chips and dips, some purple and lavender napkins and plates, and the pool balls nicely arranged in a star.
"Ssh,"Willow said anxiously. "I think I hear her coming."
0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0
At just that moment, Buffy was grabbed by the driver and carried her to the wall of the building, and flung her against it. It hurt a lot as she slammed into it and tumbled to the ground.
Angel had just begun to realize that the strange sounds they were hearing was a fight when Buffy and a vampire in a plaid shirt crashed through the window and landed on the stage.
Glass flew everywhere. Buffy and the vampire battled savagely as everyone rushed from their hiding places. Then a fireball formed in her hand and she tossed it at the driver. He caught fire and then exploded into dust.
There was a long stunned beat as everyone stared. Then Cordelia popped up from behind the cake and yelled, "Surprise!"
Everyone turned and looked at her.
It was Oz who drawled, "That pretty much sums it up."
Buffy jumped off the stage as Angel, Prue, Piper, Phoebe and Giles moved toward her. Angel and Prue said anxiously, "Buffy, are you okay?"
Equally concerned, Giles spoke up. "Yes, what happened?"
Buffy gestured behind herself. "There were these vamps outside . . ." She looked around. "Giles, you should of coached Ms. Calendar on her lines a little better. It was fairly obvious where we were going." They all look for a moment a bit down. "Still you are so sweet!"
As if she couldn't let go of it, Prue said, "You're sure you're okay?"
"Yes. I'm fine," Buffy assured her cousin.
Oz was still staring at the spot where the vampire had exploded. Willow came up to him. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah." He looked around at the group. "Hey, did everybody just see that guy turn into dust?"
Willow hesitated. "Uh, sort of."
Xander stepped forward with a "jig's-up" look. "Yep. Buffy can do magic. Vampires are real," he intoned, as if repeating a very old story. "Lot of 'em live in San Francisco; Willow'll fill you in."
Prue nodded. "Right," she said looking at her sisters. "Got to tell him something to try and keep our secret."
Willow said gently, "I know it's hard to accept at first."
Oz cut her off. "Actually, it explains a lot." However, he still looked fairly stunned.
Ms. Calendar came in the door, struggling under the weight of the box Dalton had been loading onto the truck. She said, "Hey, can somebody give me a hand here?"
Angel, Buffy, Prue, and Giles moved to help her, putting the box down on a tall white table.
"Those creeps left it behind," Ms. Calendar added.
Buffy cocked her head. "What is it?"
"I have no idea," Giles told her. "Can it be opened?"
Buffy moved her hands under the lid. "Yeah. It feels like there's a release right here."
"Careful, Buffy," Prue told her cousin.
"Promise," Buffy replied as she clicked it. Together, she and Giles pulled up the lid.
Inside lay a powerful arm and hand encased in a thick gauntlet of some sort.
Buffy turned to the others and frowned in astonishment. Then, without warning, the arm shot from the box, grabbed Buffy by the neck, and squeezed the breath right out of her.
Prue glared at the arm and she brought her hand up and telekinetically pulled the arm off her cousin. "Angel," she told him as Buffy doubled over, coughing,
Angel rushed over, struggling with the macabre thing he wrestled it back into the box. He and Giles slammed the lid into place.
There was a moment of stunned silence. Sounding more freaked than witty, Xander said, "Clearly, the Hellmouth's answer to 'What do you get the Slayer who has everything?' "
"Buffy, are you all right?" Piper questioned with concern.
Angel led Buffy away from the table. She rasped, "Man, that thing had major grip."
"What—what was that?" Phoebe asked anxiously.
Matter of factly, Oz replied, "It looked like an arm."
Angel's face was grave as he stared at the box. "It can't be," he said quietly. "She wouldn't."
Xander gave him a sharp look. "What? The vamp's version of 'snakes in a can'? Or do you care to share?"
Buffy could tell Angel was freaked in the extreme. "Angel?" she prodded.
Angel looked over at the box again. "It's a legend. Way before my time. Of a demon brought forth to rid the earth of the plague of humanity." He walked toward Giles, Prue and the box. "To separate the righteous from the wicked, and burn the righteous down. They called him the Judge."
Prue, Piper and Buffy registered that this registered with Giles and Phoebe.
"The Judge," Giles said, a bit breathlessly. "This is he?"
"Well, not all of him," Angel replied.
"I remember reading about him the family's Book of Shadows," Phoebe stated.
Buffy waved her hand. "Uh, still needing backstory here?"
Phoebe looked at Buffy. "If I remember right, he couldn't be killed. There is no vanquish for him. No Power of Three Augment, no potion, nothing."
"Phoebe's right. An army was sent against him," Giles told them. "Most of them died, but finally they were able to dismember him. But not kill him."
Angel took up the story. "The pieces were scattered. Buried in every corner of the earth."
"You think they left his heart in San Francisco?" Xander joked as almost everyone glared at him.
"I had that thought too." Oz admitted.
Piper said, "So all these parts are being brought here—"
"By Drusilla," Buffy said. "The vamps outside were Spike's men."
"She's just crazy enough to do it." Angel looked even more worried.
"Do what?" Willow's voice rose. "Reassemble the Judge?"
"And bring forth Armageddon," Angel finished.
There was a long silence. Then Cordelia piped up, "Is anyone else going to have cake?"
She had no takers.
Prue moved into strategy mode. "We need to get this out of town."
"Angel," Ms. Calendar said immediately.
Buffy blinked. "What?"
Ms. Calendar stepped up, slightly behind and between Angel and Buffy. She looked at Angel and said firmly, "You have to do it. You're the only one who can protect this thing."
"What about me?" Buffy asked.
Miss Calendar shrugged. "What, you're just going to skip town for a few months?"
"I can flame it somewhere," Buffy interjected.
"I think she's right, Buffy. I'm not letting you flame overseas. Besides you don't have a passport."
"I have to take this to the remotest region possible." Angel spoke in a low voice, as if he was thinking aloud.
"But that's not months," Buffy interrupted anxiously.
He continued, "I can catch a cargo ship to Asia, maybe trek to Nepal."
Buffy caught his attention. "You know, those newfangled flying machines are really much safer than they used to be."
"I can't fly," he said impatiently. "There's no sure way to guard against the daylight." Then he looked down and back up at her, his tone softening as he drew closer to her. "I don't like this any more than you do, Buffy. But there's no other choice."
She took that in. It hurt to admit he was right. It hurt a lot. "When?"
He hesitated. "Tonight. As soon as possible."
It hurt even more.
"But . . . it's my birthday."
He looked down again, and she knew it was hurting him, too. She took absolutely no comfort in that. Ms. Calendar came up between them. "I'll drive you to the docks."
"I'll come with you," Prue said looking at Ms. Calendar. She turned and looked at Buffy very sadly. "I know you don't like this. If you had better control of your power, Buffy, I would consider it."
"But I've gotten better, Prue," Buffy said reminding her cousin. "After all I orbed you and Phoebe to the lake last month remember?"
"And that's the farthest you've gone," Prue reminded her cousin. "We're talking overseas."
Buffy sighed in resignation. "Okay," she said.
Docks
All too soon, Buffy and Angel reached the docks. Diesel oil filled the air as the cargo ship moored just ahead of them prepared to leave, its engine rattling. Waves hit the pylons beneath Buffy and Angel's feet as they walked slowly toward the ship, hand in hand. The box containing the Judge's arm was on Angel's shoulder.
Lost in misery, Buffy rested her head against his arm and tried to get even closer. Angel touched the crown of her hair with his lips, and she thought she would lose her balance, she was so unhappy.
They got to the gangplank. He put down the box and said, "I should go the rest of the way alone."
Though she was crying, she kept it together. "Okay—"
"I'll be back," he promised. "I will."
"When? Six months? A year? We don't know how long it's going to take. Or if we'll even—" Her voice cracked.
"If we'll even what?" he pushed, making her say it.
"Well, if you haven't noticed, someone pretty much always wants us dead."
"Don't say that. We'll be fine."
She refused to pretend. "We don't know that."
"We can't know, Buffy. Nobody can. That's just the deal."
They looked at each other, two people whose lives had completely been altered by time and circumstance. Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small velvet box. He opened it. "I have something for you. For your birthday. I was going to give it to you earlier, but . . ."
It was an exquisite silver ring, dwarfed in his hand, shining in the dock lights. Two hands held a crowned heart. She had never seen anything more exquisite in her life. "It's beautiful," she said sincerely.
His voice was husky. "My people . . . before I was changed, they exchanged this as a sign of devotion. It's a claddagh ring. The hands represent friendship, the crown represents loyalty. And the heart, well, you know . . ." He smiled hauntingly. "Wear it with the heart pointing toward you, it means you belong to someone. Like this."
He showed her his hand. He was wearing a ring identical to hers. And the heart was pointing toward him.
He belonged to somebody.
She took his hand and kissed his ring with all the longing of her soul.
"Put it on," he urged.
She did. And then there was nothing more to be said, or done. It was time. "I don't want to do this," she confessed brokenly.
"Me, either."
"So . . . don't go." She was begging him, even though she knew he had to.
He kissed her. She kissed him back, long and bitter-sweet and needing him to stay, needing so badly for him to be with her, tonight and every night.
They held each other, clinging against time and tide, and then Angel whispered, "Buffy, I—"
Two vampires leaped down from a cargo net over their heads. One attacked Buffy, and the other went for Angel.
Buffy's opponent tossed her to the ground; she rolled backward and sprang to her feet as he threw a few punches; she got off three good ones to his midsection. Meanwhile, Angel flung his attacker into a wild flip, but the vamp quickly recovered and started swinging.
Using the dock rail as a support, Buffy pulled her legs to her chest and kicked her vampire.
While they were both occupied, Dalton dropped from the net and grabbed the box. At the same time, Angel hit his attacker so hard he slammed into a crate, but he came back for more.
"Angel!" Buffy shouted. "The box!"
Angel pummeled the vamp into submission, finally slamming him onto the wooden dock. He chased Dalton and threw him down.
Buffy thought she'd gotten control of her opponent, catching him around the neck with a string of lights attached to the gangplank. But she was distracted, trying to see if Angel got the box, and her vamp got free and flung her against a wooden barrier. Then he used her momentum to swing her around and fling her off the dock and into the chilly water.
In that moment, Angel had to make a decision: the box or Buffy. He chose, and the vampire he had fought darted up beside him, grabbed the box, and ran. He shouted, "Buffy!" and plunged in after her.
Gateway High School
Everybody was supposed to be reading their research books, but nobody really was. The sleeves of her sweater stretched to cover her fists, Willow stared at her page anxiously as Prue, Piper, Phoebe, Giles and Xander stared at theirs. Everyone was anxious.
Giles flipped over his page and stated the obvious. "They should be back by now."
"Maybe Buffy needed a few minutes to pull herself together," Phoebe hoped. "I know I would."
"Poor Buffy. On her birthday and everything," Willow added.
Xander nodded. "It's sad. Granted. But let's look at the up side for a moment." He stood. "I mean, what kind of a future could she have really had with him? She's got two jobs. Denny's waitress by day, Slayer by night. Angel's always in front of the tube, with a big old blood belly. And he's dreaming of the glory days when Buffy still thought the whole creature of the night routine was a big turn-on." He pointed his finger for emphasis.
Piper frowned. "You've thought way too much about this."
He warmed to the subject. "No, no, that's just the beginning. Have I told you the part where I fly into town in my private jet and take Buffy out for prime rib?"
Buffy rushed into the library. Willow said warningly, "Xander."
Xander was oblivious. "And she cries?"
Prue saw Buffy and got to her feet. "What happened?"
Buffy looked all business. "Dru's guys ambushed us. They got the box."
"Where's Jenny?" Giles asked.
Buffy gestured. "She took Angel to get clothing. I flamed home to change."
Xander looked perturbed. "And we needed clothes because . . ."
"We got wet," Buffy said simply. "Giles…Prue, what do we do?"
Giles took off his glasses and paced. "The more I study the Judge, the less I like him. His touch can literally burn the humanity out of you. A true creature of evil can survive the process. No human ever has."
"We double and triple checked," Prue said. "Both yours and our books. There is no vanquish."
"What's the problem?" Xander piped up. "We send Cordy to fight this guy and we go for pizza."
Willow wished she could laugh.
Buffy totally ignored Xander and walked over to Giles. "Can this guy be stopped? Without an army?"
Giles put his glasses back on, leaned forward, and showed her a couple of lines the Chamed Ones' Book of Shadows. "'No weapon forged can kill him.' Not very encouraging. If we could only prevent them from assembling him . . ."
"We need to find his weak spots," Buffy said. "And we need to figure out where they'd be keeping him."
Giles sighed. "This could take time."
"Phoebe, start scrying," Prue instructed her youngest sister.
"We better do a round robin," Willow suggested. "Xander, you go first."
"Good call," Buffy said, as Xander went to the phone.
"Round robin?" Giles echoed, puzzled.
"Willow and Xander call their folks and say their staying over at the Manor," Prue explained. "I had them work this system out when they found out about Buffy was Charmed. It's meant so their free to help with research if needed. How did you think they've gotten away with pulling all nighters with you?"
"Mom, hi. Xander," Xander said into the phone. "Yeah. Willow, Buffy and I are going to be studying all night long at the Manor. So I'm not coming home."
0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0
It was 2A.M., and they were no closer to a solution than they had been at midnight. Or at 1A.M.
Xander was exasperated. "I think I read this already."
Playing with her hair as she looked up from the computer, Willow said, "I can't get over how cool Oz was about all this."
Xander said snippily, "Gee,I'm over it."
"You're just jealous because you didn't have a date for the party," she taunted.
"No, I sure didn't."
Giles moved from the checkout desk as Angel came down the stairs from the landing passing Piper and Prue who were asleep at the table.
"Angel? Any luck?" Giles asked. Before Angel could reply, Giles and Phoebe spotted Buffy, her head on his desk in his office, fast asleep. He whispered, "It seems Buffy needed some rest."
They moved away.
"Yes," Angel said. "She hasn't been sleeping well. Tossing and turning."
"What?" Phoebe asked staring at Angel. "What do you mean?"
Angel huffed, "She told me. Because of her dreams."
"What dreams?" Phoebe asked. "You saying she had a premonition while she was asleep?"
Giles nodded. "Yes."
Buffy's Dreamscape
In a white gown, Buffy wandered through a candlelit room. The tapers were almost completely burned, wax dripping off ornate candelabra. She passed chairs decorated with dark leaves.
She knew this place. It was an abandoned factory, the lair of Spike and Drusilla.
She moved on. In the distance, a shadowy female figure passed by, perhaps leading her, perhaps eluding her. Buffy followed her as best she could . . .
And found herself crouching over a box like the one the arm had come in.
Then she saw that there were several boxes in a circle.
"Now, now," said a voice.
Drusilla.
Buffy whirled around.
"Hands off my presents," the mad vampire chastised.
At the top of the stairs, on the catwalk, Drusilla looked triumphantly down on Buffy. Her thin body was draped in a white gown much like Buffy's, and in her hand she held a sharp, sacrificial knife . . . leveled across Angel's throat. As she clasped his back against her chest, the knife gleaming wicked sharp against his flesh, Angel stared at Buffy with the look of someone who knew he was going to die.
"No!" Buffy shouted. "Angel!"
Gateway High School
Then she was awake, in the library, and Angel flew into her arms; Prue, Piper and Phoebe right behind him.
"Buffy, it's okay. I'm here. I'm right here," he comforted her. She shut her eyes tightly, but in her mind's eye, she could only stare with helplessness and horror.
0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0
Full of purpose, Buffy crossed the library.
From the landing, Giles called, "Buffy? What's happening?"
Angel, Prue, Piper and Phoebe followed her. "She had another dream," Phoebe told him.
Buffy said, "I think I know where Drusilla and Spike are."
"That's very good." Giles came down the stairs while Angel put on his duster. "However, you do need a plan. I know you're concerned, Buffy, but you can't just go off half-cocked."
"I have a plan. Angel and I go to the factory and do recon. Figure out how far they've gotten assembling the Judge. You guys check any places the boxes could be coming into town. Shipping yards, airports, anything. We need to stop them from getting all the boxes in one place." Buffy looked at her cousins. "Come up with a Power of Three Augmented spell, explicitly for the Judge."
Giles looked abashed, as if he had underestimated her. "Yes, well . . . actually, that's quite a good plan."
Prue stood there looking at Buffy, at her cousin she didn't like the planet. "Buffy, I'm not sure I like you going in alone, even if it is with Angel."
Buffy looked at her eldest cousin, saw the worry in Prue's eyes. Worry that she saw mirrored in Piper and Phoebe's as well. "I know," she said as she hugged each of her cousins in turn. "But right now I need you guys here helping them. Trying to find a way to bring the Judge down. This is only recon were not going in there to fight."
"Okay," Prue, Piper and Phoebe said in unison.
"Be careful," Piper pleaded.
"I will, promise." Buffy said, then she and Angel left.
Abandoned Factory
Angel and Buffy moved together through the night. They moved well, coordinating their movements without speaking. They reached the factory from the skylight overhead, and Buffy and Angel crept along the second-level catwalk. The candles around them were nearly melted down, which was good. They were able to keep pretty well to the shadows.
Below, the monster mash was in full swing. It was like some kind of strange old horror film: vampires in their true, demonic faces, drinking punch, chatting and milling around.
"I saw this," Buffy told Angel, as images from the terrible nightmare she'd had in the library took form in the stark reality before her. "The party . . ." She stopped speaking.
Below them, a towering, ugly blue demon walked into their range of vision, flanked by Spike, in a wheelchair, and Drusilla, who walked behind the creature.
Buffy's blood ran cold as she gazed down at the trio. Riveted, she watched in horrible fascination as they moved through the room.
'That has to be the Judge. And Drusilla and Spike are both alive,' Buffy thought. 'So not the news I was hoping for.'
The demon began looking around, as if searching for something.
"What?" Spike asked it. "What is it?"
It looked straight up at Buffy and Angel and growled.
Angel pulled at Buffy. "We've got to get out of here."
But as they began to run, they were surrounded on either side by vampires. It was no use even trying to fight. They were outnumbered.
Spike's men dragged them down the stairs, to stand before the Judge, and Spike and Dru.
"Well, well," Spike said jovially. "Look what we have here. Crashers."
Buffy gave him a sarcastic smile, but inside she was very scared. "I'm sure our invitations just got lost in the mail."
"It's delicious," Dru said, licking her long, pale fingers. "I only dreamed you'd come." She growled prettily at Buffy.
Angel struggled and shouted, "Leave her alone!"
"Yeah, that'll work," Spike drawled, taking a drink from a large brown bottle. "Now say pretty please."
The Judge appraised Buffy. "The girl."
Buffy held her breath and worked to keep her cool. 'I'm the Charmed Slayer,' she reminded herself. 'What's impossible for anyone but my family is not impossible for me, Prue, Piper or Phoebe.'
"Chilling, isn't it?" Dru chirruped, her eyes filled with hatred even though she was smiling. "She's so full of good intention."
"Take me," Angel demanded, jumping in front of Buffy.
"No!" Buffy shouted as she tried to flame out. When nothing happened she remembered that her powers were tied to her emotions. Her fear was keeping her from accessing them.
"Take me instead of her," Angel demanded, as his captors yanked at him.
In his wheelchair, Spike raised his arm. "You're not clear on the concept, pal." His voice was deadly and cruel. "There is no 'instead.' Just 'first' and 'second.'"
"And if you go first," Dru pointed out, "you won't get to watch the Slayer die."
Angel renewed his struggle, fighting to work himself free. But he was held fast. Furious, he watched as the Judge slowly extended his hand and walked toward Buffy.
Then he spied a cluster of TVs chained overhead, like some kind of avant-garde video hookup in a dance club. The whole thing was held in place by a couple of cogs attached to chains.
The Judge reached Buffy and held out his hand. Angel knew what he could do to her. He had never seen any of the Judge's handiwork, but it was still whispered of in the darkness, by creatures who feared nothing else on earth or in hell.
Buffy reared back and kicked the demon's armored chest. She would no more willingly submit to a death sentence than she would allow anyone else to die in her place.
"Don't touch him!" Angel bellowed, but she already had. For one terrifying second he assumed she would burn into nothing. But she was still alive, and apparently uninjured.
In the confusion that followed as the vampires also waited for her annihilation, Angel broke free. Before any of them had a chance to react, he raced to the wall where the chain that suspended the TVs from the ceiling was attached. He unfastened it; as the counterweight was thrown off, the TVs came sailing down like a cascade of granite boulders.
Sparking and sizzling, they crashed down in front of the Judge with such force that they broke through the trapdoor in the concrete floor.
Chaos reigned, and Buffy seized the advantage. She flung her guards away from herself. She ran into Angel's arms, indicated the escape route, and cried, "This way!"
Without a moment's hesitation, they both leaped into the hole while Drusilla, livid, yelled to her minions, "Go!"
Sewers / Angel's Apartment
Buffy and Angel landed in a sewer. They slogged through the muck until they found an opened utility door. Moving fast, not needing to speak, they darted inside and shut the door behind them. Two of Spike and Drusilla's lackeys splashed into the wastewater soon after. The two were hot on their trail, but as they raced past, they didn't see the closed door, and moved on.
As soon as it was safe, Buffy and Angel reemerged into the tunnel. There was a ladder nearby, leading to the street overhead.
A driving ran soaked Buffy to the skin as she pushed the manhole cover out of the way. By the time Angel got out behind her, she was shivering. "Come on," he said over the thunder. "We need to get inside."
They ran to his apartment. She waited while he let her in. The muted light made her feel colder as she stood trembling in the center of the room.
He pulled off his duster and turned to her, stroking her shoulders. "You're shaking like a leaf," he said.
She nodded. "C—cold."
"Let me get you something." He went to his dresser and got out a bulky white sweater and a pair of sweats. Handing them to her, he told her. "Put these on and get under the covers. Just to warm up."
A little hesitantly, she walked toward his neatly made bed. Stood in front of it for just a second before she sat down on the mattress with the bundle of fresh clothes. The coverlet and pillow cases were scarlet.
The rain made a drizzling pattern on the wall. Distant thunder rumbled.
Angel faced her. When she looked up and him, he must have realized he was staring at her. He said, "Sorry," and turned away.
Still, he was near. And she was self-conscious as she unbuttoned the drenched cardigan of her twin set.
As she drew out her left arm, she winced as something burned across her shoulder.
"What?"
"Oh, um. I—I just have a cut or something," she said, as she finished taking off her sweater.
"Can I . . . let me see."
"Okay." She arranged the sweater across her breasts so that she was covered.
Then Angel sat behind her on the bed as she turned to show him her back.
His fingers touched her shoulder as he pulled the strap of her camisole aside. His touch was gentle. Both hands moved over her upper back.
"It's already closed," he said hoarsely. "You're fine."
Neither moved. Buffy felt herself trembling harder. She heard Angel swallow hard. She was certain she could hear his heartbeat, or was that her own pulse racing, as his arms cradled her?
She turned, leaned into him. Breathed him in. Tears welled. She was overcome by his nearness, by the fact that she had almost lost him. That tonight, she had thought she might never see him again. "You almost went away today."
His fingertips stroked her arm as he held her, tension in his body. She knew he was being careful of her; he was struggling against what was taking them both over: the fear and the need. He said, "We both did."
She started to cry. "Angel, I feel like . . . if I lost you . . ." She caught her breath. "You're right, though. We can't be sure of anything." She moved her lips to the side of his face and wept.
"Sssh. I . . ."
She opened her eyes, waited. Moved to face him. "You what?"
"I love you."
And when he said it, her eyes brightened in wonder, though the tears were still there. It was what she had longed to hear, for such a very long time; and yet, there was tremendous sorrow in his words, and in knowing what she had barely dared to dream.
"I try not to, but I can't stop," he said brokenly.
"Me, too." Her voice cracked as she was overcome with emotion. "I can't, either." She pressed her nose against his.
They kissed. The kiss grew. They were crossing a bridge; they were going somewhere together they had never been before. Buffy's heart pounded with the knowledge that this kiss was the beginning of something much bigger; this was a seal and a promise, and a first step.
Their passion grew. Buffy was starving for the taste of him; she shook with the need of him.
Panting, he pulled away. "Buffy, maybe we shouldn't."
"Don't." She touched his face, held it. "Just kiss me."
Their lips met again, and again.
Angel drew Buffy down into his bed. 'She's so beautiful,' he thought. 'She feels so amazing. Her skin, her hair.' He breathed her in. The scent of her, the satiny softness of her neck, her shoulders. Her hands, caressing him.
0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0
The thunder rumbled, and crashed.
Angel bolted awake, unbelievable pain ripping through him. White-hot agony seared him, body and soul.
He panted, fighting it. It was an ancient pain, and he knew what it meant. He knew what was coming, and he was desperate to stop it. He clutched the sheets, heaving, as Buffy slumbered beside him.
'No, no, not now . . . it can't be . . . Buffy. . .' he thought.
Everything was shattering. As he convulsed, he clung to one thought: he had to put as much distance between her and himself as possible.
Angel dressed and stumbled out into the storm, into the wildness of the night. He clung to the hope that it would stop, that it would not happen. But as he fell to his knees, he knew: his soul was being torn from him once more.
"Buffy!" he shouted.
She was the last thought of the man who loved her.