Chapter 59: Revelations
December 7, 1998 – Monday
Payson's
Dingoes Ate My Baby jammed on the stage. The place was packed to capacity—maybe over capacity—and Willow sat with Xander and Cordelia watching the show. Onstage, under the multicolored lights, Oz hit all the right chords.
Oz glanced up, caught Willow's eye, and smiled sweetly, knowingly. A shiver went through her. Her boyfriend—and he was the most wonderful guy she had ever known.
Yet now she was having feelings for Xander.
Cordelia laughed about something and Xander smiled. Then he glanced at Willow and looked quickly away. The guilt crackled between them like electricity.
Willow could not imagine making such a huge and stupid mistake as to share any kind of intimacy with Xander, even a kiss, but then she recalled the way she'd been feeling recently anytime they were alone together. It was like something came over her.
He had been her best friend almost all her life. For years, she had had a deep crush on him, but he had never paid that kind of attention to her. Then when she finally found Oz, found love … it was enough to make her hate Xander. But she could never do that. And he wasn't the only one at fault, in any case.
The guilt was terrible.
Willow focused on Oz, onstage, and smiled lovingly at him.
"Can I just say, I liked this place before it got popular?" Cordelia told them.
Willow rolled her eyes. "Cordelia, you didn't come in here before it got popular. It didn't get popular till after Piper signed Dishwalla and back then it was an adult only club while Piper was waiting for the permits to allow teens in and still serve alcohol."
Dingoes finished their set and Oz slipped off his guitar, ignored the adoring groupies, and sauntered over to the table.
"Oz! Hey," Willow said. "Have a seat. Except, we don't have any seats."
Oz glanced at the packed table. "It's okay. I'll just scrunch in." He slid onto the chair with Willow, pushing her uncomfortably close to Xander, who moved away quickly.
Cordelia frowned. "Xander, why are you giving me a lap dance?"
"What? I just like you."
"And that's very beautiful," Willow said, a little too quickly. "I think it's great when two people like two people and want to be close to them instead of anyone else."
Xander nodded. "Hear, hear."
"Yeah, well put," Oz said. He pointed to Xander's soda cup. "Hey, can I snag a sip?"
"Sure," Willow said.
At precisely the same moment Xander said, "Yeah, you got it."
They reached for the cup and their hands brushed against each other.
Xander flinched back as though he'd received an electric shock, knocking a drink tray from a waitress's hand and sending beverages flying.
Willow gazed about nervously, wondering if anyone had an inkling about the reason for Xander's reaction.
Cordelia leaned in toward Willow and Xander. "Why are you guys so hyper?" she asked.
"Hey, speaking of people and things they do that aren't like usual, anyone notice Buffy acting sort of different?" Willow put in quickly, and awkwardly.
"Let's see," Xander replied, not really getting the hint. "Killing zombies, torching sewer monsters, vanquishing Belthazor, and, um … no that's pretty much the same old Buffster."
"I just mean, y'know she's off by herself a lot more? And she's kind of distracted."
"Think maybe she has a new honey?" Cordelia inquired, ready for the gossip.
Willow frowned. "A boyfriend? Why wouldn't she tell us?"
Cordelia's eyebrows shot up. "Excuse me. When your last steady kills half the class and then your rebound guy sends you a dump-o-gram? It makes a girl shy."
It was true, Willow knew. Buffy had not had the best of luck with dating.
Angel had turned evil and Buffy had been forced to kill him. And then she dated Scott Hope for a little while before he decided maybe things weren't right between them. It had to be tough.
"But we're the best of Buffy's bestest buds," Xander said, a bit petulantly. "She'd tell us."
Even as he said it, Buffy pushed through the gathered Bronzers and appeared behind him. "Tell you what?"
"About your new boyfriend," Willow explained. "Who we made up. Unless we didn't."
Buffy gave them a dubious glance. "This was a topic of discussion?"
"Raised, but never discussed," Oz corrected.
"So," Cordelia prodded, "are you dating somebody or not?"
A tiny half-smile reached Buffy's lips. "Well, I wouldn't use the word dating. But I am going out with somebody. Tonight, as a matter of fact."
"Really? Who?" Willow asked, thrilled to hear it.
Buffy only smiled ironically as Faith bopped up to the table. Faith greeted the group with a nod. "What's up?" She turned to Buffy. "Hey, time to motorvate."
With a dead-serious expression, Buffy slipped an arm around the other Slayer. "Really, we're just good friends."
Restfield Cemetery
Back to back, Buffy and Faith confronted a pair of brutal vampires who had had the audacity to think they could make it in San Francisco without tasting stake. They were decent hand-to-hand fighters, actually, these two vamps. But Buffy and Faith together? Unbeatable.
Meanwhile, Giles, the man who was now Watcher to them both, sat on a marble bench nearby with a thermos of tea, a Styrofoam cup, and a pad upon which he took notes about their efficiency. His expression was a combination of boredom and amusement.
The vamp Faith was fighting tried to kick her in the face. She flipped him over, then wailed on him a few times until he shifted direction. One more blow, and he slammed into the other vampire.
Faith glanced up. Buffy hit her opponent one more time. They had the two vamps back to back. Faith noticed that the elder Slayer had a fireball in her hand. Just as she brought down he stake, Buffy flung her fireball. Both vampires were dust.
"Synchronized Slaying," Buffy said as the girls high-fived.
"New Olympic category," Faith observed.
Buffy looked at Giles. "What do you think?"
Before he could reply, a woman's voice came out of the shadows of the cemetery. "Sloppy."
A thin, pale, but attractive woman in a power suit and pearls walked toward them. When she spoke, it was with a British accent.
"You telegraph punches, leave blind sides open and, for a school night slaying, you both take entirely too much time. Which one of you is Faith?"
"Depends," Faith told her, bristling. "Who the hell are you?"
The woman lifted her chin with an air of superiority. "Gwendolyn Post. Mrs. Your new Watcher."
Gateway High School
A short time later, both Slayers and Watchers had retreated to the library. It was long after dark, of course, but Giles had a key.
Mrs. Post sifted through Giles's oldest books as he, Buffy and Faith looked on.
"Look, I'm telling you, I don't need a new Watcher," Faith said emphatically. "No offense, lady, I just have this problem with authority figures. They end up kind of dead."
"Duly noted," Mrs. Post replied. "And fortunately, it's not up to you." She glanced at Giles. "Mr. Giles, where do you keep the rest of your books?"
"I'm sorry, the rest?"
"Yes. The actual library?"
Giles blinked, taken aback, and more than a bit miffed.
"Oh," the newly arrived Watcher sniffed. "I see."
"I assure you, Mrs. Post, this is the finest occult reference collection—"
"This side of the Atlantic, I'm sure," she interrupted. "Do you have Hume's Paranormal Encyclopedia?"
Giles grumbled.
"The Labyrinth Maps of Malta?"
He glanced down. "It's on order."
"Well, I suppose that you have Sir Robert Kane's Twilight Compendium?"
"Oh, yes," Giles said, relieved. He reached for the book. "Yes. Yes I do."
"Yes. Of course you do," Mrs. Post replied, her tone painfully condescending. She turned to the girls. "I have been sent by the Council for a very important reason. Faith needs a Watcher. I am to act in that capacity and report back."
Faith cocked her head to one side, all attitude. "Excuse me, Mary Poppins, you don't seem to be listening."
Frustrated, Giles nevertheless signaled Faith to be quiet. "Faith, if the Council feels you need closer observation, we will all, of course, cooperate."
"The Council wishes me to report on the entire situation here," Mrs. Post told him. "Including you and your witch."
Buffy stared at the new Watcher. "Witch? I'm just a witch? I'll let you know I'm Charmed, lady!" she snapped
"The fact is, there is talk in the Council that you have become a bit too…American," Mrs. Post revealed ignoring Buffy's outburst.
"Me?" Giles asked, aghast.
"Him?" Buffy chimed in.
As if bored by the entire conversation, Mrs. Post went on. "A demon named Lagos is coming here, to the Hellmouth. Mr. Giles, an illustration of Lagos, if you please."
Giles fumbled for a book that would contain the requested illustration. After only a few moments, Mrs. Post cast him a dismissive glance.
"Perhaps later," she sniffed.
Giles fumed.
"Lagos seeks the Glove of Myhnegon. No record of this glove's full power exists. But we do know it is highly dangerous and must not fall into the hands of a demon. Lagos must be stopped."
In an attempt to cooperate, Giles nodded. "What do you propose?"
Disdainful, Mrs. Post glared down her nose at him. "Well, if it's not too radical a suggestion, I thought we might kill him. I suggest two Slayers at full strength for a coordinated hunt. We believe the glove to be buried in a tomb somewhere, so Lagos will be headed for the cemetery."
Furious, but no longer even attempting to hide his displeasure, Giles did not even look at her. "There is more than one in the San Francisco area."
"I see. How many?"
"Two, within San Francisco city limits. Both of which are now historical sites. The City of San Francisco banned new burials in 1900 and moved all but those two cemeteries to Colma, California where for the last hundred years all of San Francisco's dead have been interred. There are fifty cemeteries in Colma."
"Well, we'll just have to take them one at a time. Anything in your books that might pinpoint the exact location of the tomb would be useful, but then, we cannot ask for miracles." Mrs. Post turned to the Slayers. "We'll begin tomorrow at sunset. Faith? With me, please."
Reluctantly, Faith rose and followed Mrs. Post out the library doors.
"Well," Giles sighed, when they were gone. "That was bracing."
"Interesting lady," Buffy said brightly. "Can I kill her? Maybe a nice fireball up her…"
Giles considered the question for a moment. "I think the Council might frown upon that."
December 8, 1998 – Tuesday
Crawford Street Mansion
The following afternoon, Buffy and Angel practiced Tai Chi at his mansion. They moved through the Tai Chi routine together. Angel had spent hours each day gliding through the positions, centering himself, pushing out the horrors of his time in the Hell. Becoming Angel again. With Buffy's help, he had found himself. Weeks had passed. Everything was as back to normal as it could ever get.
His body moved so perfectly, lithely, and she mirrored his every move. He had changed since his return, become quieter and more contemplative, his eyes even more haunted than they had been before.
Angel slipped behind her, strong hands on hers, and helped her follow through the movements, guiding her. His arms wrapped around her and slowly, she turned. Their eyes met, their lips so close, and moving closer …
Buffy broke away. "I got to go." She went to grab her bag, slipped it over her shoulder. "Big night for us Slayer types. People to see, demons to kill. Better hurry before somebody figures out what we're doing."
"What are we doing?" Angel asked as he slowly slipped his shirt on and began to button it.
"Training," Buffy said. She turned to face him. "And almost kissing. Sorry. It's just… old habit. Bad, bad habit, to be broken."
"It's hard," Angel said, his dark eyes boring into her.
"It's not hard," Buffy replied, the lie sounding hollow even to her. "Cold turkey. The key to quitting." With the longing aching in her heart, she gazed at him. "You think they make a patch for this?"
"You have to go," Angel told her.
"I really do. I'm gonna try and vent a little hormonal angst by going out there and killing a Lagos, whatever that is."
She barely noticed the way Angel's eyes lit up at the mention of the name. "Lagos," he repeated.
"Yeah, he's some demon looking for some all-powerful thing-amabob and I've got to stop him before he unleashes unholy havoc and it's another Tuesday night in San Francisco."
Angel stared off into the gray, shadowed corners of the room. "Be careful."
Mountrose Cemetery
Cemetery by cemetery, Buffy and Faith had made their way. Along the way, they'd gotten to talk even more than usual, and Faith had felt herself relaxing. Buffy had seemed a little distracted lately, but tonight everything was of the good.
Faith kept glancing at the other Slayer out of the corner of her eye. She wondered if Buffy would be able to help her find what she had lost.
"Ronnie, deadbeat. Steve, klepto. Kenny, drummer," Faith said, particularly scornful about Kenny's status as a musician. "Eventually I had to accept my destiny as a loser magnet. Now it's just get some, get gone. You can't trust guys."
"You can trust some guys," Buffy argued. "Really, I've read about them."
"So what about you?"
"You mean, like, me and guys, me? Not much to tell these days."
"Yeah, but you've got to have stories," Faith urged. "I mean, I've had my share of losers, but you boinked the undead. What was that like?"
Buffy blinked, a troubled expression passing like a cloud across her face. "Life with Angel … was … complicated," she said. "It's still a little hard for me to talk about."
"Try." Faith smiled.
Buffy seemed to bristle a little. "Look, Faith, all of the Angel issues are still kind of with me, so if you don't mind, I'd rather not."
Faith's smile faded. She was hurt. "Yeah, whatever. You know what, we're oh for six tonight. Why don't we just blow this off?"
"I am kind of beat," Buffy admitted. "But Shady Hill's pretty close."
"I'll swing through it," Faith offered. "It's on my way home."
"Alone?" Buffy asked. "I don't know if—"
"I got Miss Priss on my back now," Faith reminded her. "I don't need another baby-sitter. I'll holler if I'm having any fun."
"Okay," Buffy relented.
Faith nodded once. "Later."
Crawford Street Mansion
In the back of Buffy's mind, a warning voice shrieked like an air-raid siren. She ignored it. Angel was in her arms, his lips were upon hers, his hands roamed over her body, and all was right with the world. Except it wasn't. As they pulled apart, eyes lingering upon the other's, she felt not the warm glow of her love for him, but horror at what it could lead to.
Angel without a soul. A merciless beast.
"Oh, Goddess…" she whispered.
"Buffy—"
"What am I doing? What are you doing?"
He relented. "I don't know."
"Oh, Goddess," she gasped, as she turned to walk away, to put some distance between them. "I don't even know why I came here."
Angel followed her, stopped her from leaving with a light touch on her arm. "It's good you did." He took her by the hand. "I think I have what you're looking for."
On a table sat an object wrapped in filthy rags.
"Great," Buffy said, staring at it. "Just, wherever this was gift-wrapped? Remind me not to shop there."
Angel unwrapped it to reveal a metal gauntlet, a dangerous-looking iron glove with spikes around the bottom where one's hand would slip inside. "The Glove of Myhnegon," he explained.
"The world's ugliest fashion accessory." Buffy reached to touch it, but Angel stopped her. His hand felt electric over hers.
"Don't. Once you put it on, the glove can never be removed."
"So no touching," Buffy said, gaze resting on their intertwined fingers. "Kind of like us." She took her hand away. "Sorry. Cheap shot, I know." She sighed as Angel covered up the glove again. "You hold on to it," she told him. "I'll tell Giles in the morning. At least he'll be happy."
December 9, 1998 – Wednesday
Gateway High School
Before class, Buffy strolled into the library to report to Giles. "Lagos is out of luck. I found the magic mitten thingy!" she said happily.
She froze when she saw the grim faces on her friends. They were all there: Willow, Oz, Xander, Cordelia, and of course, Giles himself.
"What's with all the tragedy masks?"
None of them made any response at first. Then, a grave tone in his voice, Giles spoke up. "You'd better take a seat, Buffy."
Xander stood up and slid his chair over for her. The wind knocked out of her sails, Buffy slid into the chair at the study table, feeling all of their eyes upon her. "What's going on? Is it Prue, Piper or Phoebe? I just left them, did something happen?"
"We know Angel is alive, Buffy. Xander saw you with him. It would appear that you've been hiding him and that you lied to us," Giles explained, voice tight with anger and pain.
"Nobody's here to blame you, Buffy," Willow added. "But this is serious. You need help."
Buffy could only stare at them for a moment as her mind searched for some explanation, some way to tell them. She hated the accusation she saw in their faces. They just did not understand what it had been like for her. How could they?
"It's… it's not what you think."
"I hope not," Xander said bluntly, no trace at all of humor in his voice. "Because I think you're harboring a vicious killer."
"This isn't about attacking Buffy," Willow chided him. "Remember, 'I' statements only. 'I feel angry.' 'I feel worried.'"
"Fine," Cordelia said snippily. "Here's one. I feel worried—about me! Last time around, Angel barely laid a hand on Buffy. He was way more interested in killing her friends."
"But he's better now," Buffy argued, wishing she could make them understand. "Willow cured him and—somehow—he came back. Prue knows, she's been trying to help me find out why he came back." She didn't mention telling Phoebe, for that would bring up questions on why she had mentioned it to Phoebe and no one else.
"Better for how long, Buffy? I mean, did you even think about that?" Xander countered.
Buffy stood up, angry at them. "What is this, Demons Anonymous? I don't need an intervention here."
She began to walk away, but Giles's voice stopped her. "Oh, don't you?" he asked. "You must have known it was wrong seeing him or you wouldn't have hidden it from all of us and persuaded Prue to do the same."
"We were going to tell you. I was," Buffy protested, her voice thick with emotion. "We didn't know why he came back. We just wanted to wait—"
"For what?" Xander snapped bitterly. "For Angel to go psycho again the next time you give him a happy?"
"I'm not going to!" Buffy retorted angrily. "We're not together like that."
Oz had sat through all of it in silence, as usual. Now, from the corner, he spoke up. "But you were kissing him."
Buffy blinked, stunned by what those words meant. She could not deny the truth in them, but anger boiled in her as she realized how that truth had most likely been discovered. She turned to Xander. "You were spying on me? What gives you the right?"
Cordelia wasn't having it. "What gives you the right to suck face with your demon lover again?"
"It was an accident!"
Xander stared at her. "What, you just tripped and fell on his lips?"
"It was wrong, okay? I know that and I know that it can't happen again. But you guys have to believe me, I would never put you in any danger. If I thought for a second that Angel was going to hurt anyone—"
"You would stop him," Xander cut in, voice tinged with sarcasm. "Like you did last time, with Miss Calendar."
Buffy stared at him, horrified to think that he might actually blame her for Jenny Calendar's death. "You want to go round one, Xander?" she said as a fireball formed in her hand. "Jenny was my friend. I regret what happened to her. There is not a day that goes by that I don't wish I could take it back. That she would be alive again."
Willow spoke up quietly. "Buffy… I feel, that when it comes to Angel? You can't see straight. And that's why we're all gonna help you face this."
"You know what guys enough. If you don't want to believe me then go see Prue. Right now all I can offer you is my promise he's good again. I swear. He even found the Glove of Myhnegon for us. It's at the mansion."
"Right!" Xander shouted. "Good plan. Leave tons of firepower with the scary guy. And leave us to clean up the mess." Furious, he stormed toward the door.
Buffy grabbed his arm and he spun to face her. "You would just love an excuse to hurt him, wouldn't you?"
"I don't need an excuse," Xander replied darkly as he yanked his arm out of her grasp. "I think lots of dead people actually constitutes a reason."
"Right. This is all nobility. This has nothing to do with jealousy," Buffy said, certain the crush he'd once had on her was at least part of his motivation for being so angry.
"Hello?" Cordelia chimed in. "Miss Not-Over-Yourself-Yet?"
"Don't you start with me," Buffy snapped as she threw the fireball at Cordelia, intentionally missing the cheerleader.
Panicked, Willow turned to Giles. "Giles, no one's doing the 'I' statements."
"That's enough!" Giles said curtly. "Everybody. Buffy knows our concerns. Her actions, however ill-advised, can be understood… and the question of Angel… It can't be solved while tempers run this hot. Our priority right now is to retrieve the Glove of Myhnegon and try to destroy it. Now all of you back to class."
Without another word, they all rose and filed out of the library. Buffy watched them go, a deep sadness filling her. But at least Giles had stood up for her. He went into his inner office and after the others had gone, she followed him in. His back was to her.
"Thanks … for the bail in there," she said tentatively. "I know this is a lot to absorb, but Angel did find the glove, and there was a—"
"Be quiet."
Two simple words that froze her completely. Still, Giles did not look at her. Buffy had heard the pain in his voice, and she could not bear it that he would not meet her eyes. Finally, he began to turn.
"I won't remind you that the fate of the world often rests with not only your family, but you as the Charmed Slayer. What would be the point? Nor shall I remind you that you've jeopardized the lives of all whom you hold dear, by harboring a known murderer. But sadly I must remind you that Angel tortured me. For hours. For pleasure. You should have told me he was alive. You didn't. You have no respect for me, or the job I perform." With that he turned and sat at his desk.
"Fine consider yourself Slayerless," she snapped. "Prue has been on my side since we found out he came back. She helped me to find out why he came back. We planned on telling you Giles. We planned on telling everyone. I know this is not the best of situations but the least you could do is trust me."
After a moment, with no response from Giles, Buffy turned to go.
0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0
The bell sounded, signaling the end to another school day. It was the nicest sound in the world. Buffy watched Willow walk to her locker and stuff a huge number of books inside. After a moment, she took a deep breath and walked over.
"Hey," she said, tentatively.
"Hey!" Willow replied amiably.
"So, I assume you no longer want me as your Whitelighter?"
"What?" Willow asked in surprise. "Of course I want you as my Whitelighter."
"So, you're not hating me right now?" Buffy asked, hopeful.
"No," Willow assured her. "You were scared. You kept a secret, y'know? It's okay. Secrets aren't bad, y'know, they're normal. They're better than normal, they're good. Secrets are good. Must be a reason why we keep 'em, right?"
"Willow, Prue and I kept the secret because at first Angel was nothing more than an animal," Buffy explained. "But he started to get better. Prue and I then were trying to find out why he came back, seriously. If you don't believe me you can ask Prue."
"Okay I can understand that," Willow admitted. "I can also understand if you have some feelings for him."
Buffy sighed. "I do. I'll always love him. That said I don't know if I'm still in love with him though."
"Good enough for me," Willow said.
They walked down the corridor together.
"So, you going to Payson's tonight, or are you gonna sneak away for a not-so-secret rendezvous with Angel?" Willow pried.
"None of the above. After you guys left, I blew up at Giles. I'm gonna try and kill this Lagos guy. Peace offering to him."
"Well, Angel has the glove now, right?"
"Yep. But Lagos doesn't know that. I figure sooner or later he's bound to show up at that crypt looking for it," Buffy reasoned.
"Ah, but instead he finds a Buffy in a not so good mood."
"That's my brilliant plan."
Mountrose Cemetery
The wind that swept across the Cemetery that night seemed colder than usual. Buffy she paced in front of the Von Hauptman family crypt. Willow shivered as she sat on a stone bench across from the tomb.
They were waiting for Lagos to come back for the glove.
Willow could think of a great many things she would rather be doing. "Um, not to downplay my own slaying abilities, which in some circles are considered formidable," she ventured, "but, shouldn't Faith, Prue, Piper or Phoebe be here?"
"I tried calling Faith but nobody was home," Buffy answered. "And as your Whitelighter I felt you could use some time helping with a vanquish, which is why Prue, Piper and Phoebe aren't here. But if you're feeling any demon-ophobia, please … splitting is totally an option. You're not the one in trouble with Giles."
"That's true," Willow said tentatively.
Buffy did not notice her hesitation. "How long do you think he can stay mad at me, anyway?"
"The emotional Marathon Man?" Willow shrugged.
"I can't really blame him," Buffy admitted. "It's weird, though. Now that my secret … Angel … it's all out in the open, I feel better."
"Well, sure you do," Willow replied emphatically. "You and Prue have just had this big burden lifted. I mean, keeping secrets is a lot of work… one could hypothetically imagine."
"You have no idea," Buffy said thinking about the other big secret in her family, that Cole was still alive. She dreaded the day that Prue and Piper would find out. "You know Prue didn't want to go along with it at first. But she was curious on why he had returned also. It's a wonder she didn't say anything to Giles before now."
"Can I ask you a question?" Willow asked as Buffy sat next to her on the bench. "When you were with Angel and nobody knew about it, did that make it feel, y'know, sexier somehow?"
"Like, the forbidden fruit's sweeter kind of deal? Not really. It's too much pressure. After a while it even makes the fun parts not so fun."
"Huh."
"What makes you think all this secret stuff is sexy, anyway?"
"Nothing," Willow said quickly, panic flooding her. "I'm just wondering. Got to keep asking the big old questions when you're blessed with this girl's thirst for knowledge and… okay. There's something I have to tell you."
Buffy watched her curiously. "Don't tell me you tried a spell I specifically said you weren't ready for yet?"
" No," Willow answered. She stood up and started pacing. "Okay, this'll make me feel better, right? Y'know, I've always thought of myself as a good person. Floss, do my homework, never cheat. But lately, and please don't judge me on this, but… I want you to be the first to know that—"
Something moved in the dark beyond Buffy. Willow's eyes went wide.
"There's a demon behind you."
Buffy sprang from the bench and turned. Both girls were startled by the ugly warrior demon striding toward them. From Faith's description, they knew it was Lagos. "We'll pick up in a minute," she told Willow who nodded.
Buffy ran at the demon and leaped up to dropkick it with both feet, right in the center of the chest. It barely noticed. She landed and was up again in an instant, but Lagos lifted her into his huge hands and slammed her to the ground. Fast as she was able, Buffy rose and started to pummel him. The demon's head snapped back and she rained blows down upon him.
Lagos picked her up as though she were a rag doll, hefted her above his head, and threw her to the ground again. She barely moved out of his way in time to avoid a killing blow, but then she was up once more. Buffy dodged and Lagos's huge fist shattered a gravestone to powder. She moved in, struck him with several thunderous blows, then kicked him in the gut. The demon doubled over, and Buffy spotted the huge battle-ax that was slung across his back.
"Now we're talking," she muttered as she tore the ax away from him.
With a single swipe, she decapitated the demon. His enormous head thunked to the ground, bounced once, then rolled to a stop.
Willow gave her a thumbs up. "Yes!"
Buffy walked back to her, ax in hand. "So, what were you going to tell me?"
"Oh, I…" Willow began. But she had lost her nerve. "I opened my S.A.T. test booklet five minutes early. Just doesn't seem important now, does it?"
Buffy smiled. "Your secret's safe with me." She slung the ax over her shoulder. "Come on. Let's go bring Giles some happiness."
Gateway High School
"Giles has to be psyched that we showed up stuffy old Mrs. Post," Buffy said, as she and Willow entered the library together.
Then she glanced away from her friend's smile and froze at the sight that unfolded before her.
"Oh, my Goddess," Buffy whispered.
A team of paramedics surrounded Giles, who lay quite still on a stretcher, while Xander looked on. One of them checked the Watcher's pulse while another bandaged his head. There was blood on the bandages. Buffy felt her heart race with her fear for him. She tossed Lagos's battle-ax over the checkout counter and ran toward him.
"What happened?" she demanded.
The lead paramedic was on the two-way radio clipped to her belt. "San Francisco General, we have a Caucasian male, mid-forties, blunt object head trauma. Notify E.R. we're bringing him in."
"What happened?" Buffy snapped at her.
"No time for this," the paramedic replied.
"Wait," Giles called weakly. "Buffy … you must … destroy the glove."
"You want him to live?" the lead paramedic asked callously. "Get out of the way."
As they hustled the gurney out of the library, Giles raised a shaky hand. "Use… Living Flame," he rasped.
Then they were gone, and Giles with them. Frantic, Buffy stared at Xander, and asked the question for the third time. "What happened?"
"Your boyfriend's not as cured as you thought," Xander said bluntly.
Buffy shook her head. "What makes you think that Angel had anything to do with this?"
"We saw what you saw."
"So you just assume?" Buffy snapped.
"I didn't," Xander replied. "Faith did."
Cold fingers gripped Buffy's heart as dread spread through her. "What did you tell her?"
"Only what everyone knows. She's a big girl. Came to her own conclusions."
Angry now, Buffy glared at him. "How much of a head start does she have?"
He shrugged. "Ten minutes."
"Why's she doing this?" Buffy questioned.
"Because she's a Vampire Slayer."
Buffy glared at Xander in disbelief. Xander stared right back, not flinching, not giving an inch. "Xander get out of my sight. If I see you again before I've had a chance to calm down your toast. Literally." Pulse racing, she turned to Willow. "Go through Giles's research. Figure out how to destroy the glove." Buffy cast a last glance of horror and disbelief at Xander, then she disappeared in a swirl of fiery flames.
Crawford Street Mansion
Faith burst in the door. "Mrs. Post!" she cried, seeing Angel in full vamp-face and her Watcher lying unconscious on the floor. She glared at him, eyes filled with hate. "I can't believe how much I'm gonna enjoy killing you."
"You're not getting that glove," Angel snarled, fangs glistening in the light from the magical flame that danced on a brazier nearby.
"Want to bet?" Faith snapped.
She would get the glove. A monster as deadly as Angel? No way was she going to leave it in his hands. Faith gripped the gaffing hook she had pulled from Giles's weapons cabinet and rushed him.
Angel batted the hook from her hand. Faith slammed into his chest, and he struck her with a solid backhand that rocked her head back. Fury redoubled within her. Her fist connected with his face, but when he swung to repay the favor, she dodged to one side and brought her leg up backward to deliver a hard kick to the head.
While he reeled, she stomped on the back of his leg, driving him down.
Using all her strength, she tossed him over the couch, where he slammed into the coffee table. He lay there for a moment, trying to get his bearings. Faith didn't give him a chance.
Running around the couch, she withdrew a stake from inside her jacket.
With both hands, she raised it over her head and brought it down.
Buffy appeared in a swirl of fiery flames. She grabbed Faith by the wrists, stopping her before she could dust Angel.
"What?" Faith muttered.
Buffy threw her backward. Faith recovered in an instant, and the two Slayers faced off against each other. "I can't let you do it, Faith," she said, regret in her voice.
Faith smiled, but there was nothing friendly in it. "You're confused, Twinkie. Let me clear you up." She pointed at Angel with the stake. "Vampire." Then at herself. "Slayer." Back at Angel. "Dead vampire."
"There's a lot that you don't understand."
A voice called weakly from across the room. "Faith …"
They both glanced over.
Mrs. Post had regained consciousness, much the worse for wear, and struggled to rise. "She doesn't know. She's blinded by love."
"Faith, no," Buffy said, emphatically.
"Trust me," Mrs. Post rasped.
Buffy shook her head. "Faith, we can figure this out."
But Faith had already figured it out, as much as she cared to. With a spinning kick, she drove Buffy to the ground. But Buffy didn't stay down, she was up in an eyeblink— less—and the blow she hammered at Faith rocked the brunette Slayer backward. Faith hit Buffy again, but with each of her blows, Buffy got in three. The two girls battered at one another, and then Faith went down hard.
Again Faith was up, facing off against Buffy. They were too evenly matched. They spun and kicked, and most of their blows connected. Faith was groggy, but she ducked a kick, then slammed Buffy with one of her own. The other Slayer grunted and went down, but Faith was right behind her. She wrapped an arm around Buffy's throat and began to choke her. Buffy disappeared in a swirl of fiery flames. As she reappeared, Faith swept a leg around and knocked her off her feet.
Once more, she was up. As Buffy rose, Faith launched a high kick at her face, but the other Slayer caught her foot in the air and shoved her backward toward a pair of French doors. As Faith recovered, Buffy hurtled at her across the room and together they crashed through the glass doors, shards flying all around them.
Outside, on a patio in the dead garden, the fight continued.
0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0
Xander was the first to rush in the front door, but Willow was right behind him. When they saw Mrs. Post, bruised and rumpled, Willow gasped. They ran to her.
"The glove," she said, wincing with pain, "it's in the trunk."
"We'll get it," Xander vowed.
Mrs. Post nodded gratefully. "Help Faith," she pleaded.
With a glance out through the shattered doors, he saw the two Slayers pummeling each other on the patio. Xander cursed under his breath as he raced out to intervene.
"What are you… stop!" he snapped. "Guys, listen!"
Xander stepped between them and Faith backhanded him, hard. With a grunt, Xander tumbled into a corner of the patio. When he looked up, he saw Buffy jump and come down with her fist, driving Faith to her knees.
0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0
Willow watched as Mrs. Post hurried to the trunk and flung open the top. It seemed odd to her that the woman was suddenly so energetic, but she figured it was just the intensity of the situation.
Mrs. Post reached into the trunk, threw back some dirty rags, and lifted out the glove. "Finally," she said.
Then she turned and cracked Willow in the side of the head with the heavy metal artifact. Willow fell hard, then looked up through a haze of pain as Mrs. Post slipped her hand into the glove. Thick metal prongs like spider's legs made a circle around the bottom of it, and when the woman put it on, the prongs snapped closed one by one, sinking into the flesh of Mrs. Post's forearm.
Willow winced as if the pain had been her own, but she was amazed to see that the Watcher seemed impervious to the pain. Mrs. Post raised the glove toward the enormous skylight, through which the stars were visible.
"Tar chugam a chumhacht Myhnegon!" Mrs. Post screamed.
Thunder rolled across the sky. Willow struggled to understand the words—which she thought were Gaelic— then realized it didn't matter. The woman's intentions were clear enough.
0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0
With a grunt, Buffy cracked her knuckles across Faith's face in a savage backhand. Faith struck back, but Buffy trapped her fist. At the boom of the thunder, both Slayers froze and stared up at the sky. As one, they peered through the shattered French doors and into Angel's home, where Mrs. Post stood, arm raised high, the Glove of Myhnegon almost glowing with preternatural light on her hand.
"What's going on?" Faith asked. But even as she said the words, she realized: she had been deceived. They all had.
With a wide grin, Mrs. Post turned to look at them. "Faith, a word of advice. You're an idiot." She thrust the glove toward the sky again, and cried out. "Tar frim!"
Sorcerous energy shot down from the sky like a bolt of lightning, shattering the skylight and surging through the glove. It crackled with power as glass shards poured down.
Mrs. Post turned toward the Slayers and pointed with the glove. Tendrils of crackling energy lanced out at them. Buffy tackled Faith out of the way, and the lightning struck a tree outside, causing it to burst into flames.
Inside the room, Angel, groggy, began to rise. He saw Willow. Alone in the middle of the room. Nothing to protect her.
Mrs. Post turned and shouted the enchantment again. Willow was a sitting duck. Buffy and Faith were much too far away to help, but they need not have worried. Even as the surge of mystical power sparked out toward her friend, Angel lunged across the room and knocked Willow out of the way.
Grim, but determined, Buffy turned to Faith. Faith understood: whatever had happened between them, they had to be together now.
"Can you draw her fire?" Buffy asked.
"You bet I can," Faith replied coldly.
"Go to it."
0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0
As Faith got up and went for Mrs. Post, Buffy glanced desperately around, searching for the largest piece of broken glass she could find. Inside the house, she heard Mrs. Post shout again, and the explosion as another bolt of supernatural lightning crackled across the room. She saw Faith streaking around the chamber, distracting Mrs. Post from the patio and Willow and Angel.
Buffy picked up a huge piece of glass from the patio floor, large enough that it was practically a complete pane from the broken French doors.
"There's nothing you can do to me now!" Mrs. Post called to Faith within. "I have the glove. With the glove comes the power."
Buffy stepped through the shattered doors. "I'm getting that," she said.
Once more Mrs. Post cried out for the power to come into her. In that same instant, Buffy hurled the razor-sharp glass like a discus. It spun through the air and sliced Mrs. Post's arm off, just above the elbow. Still inside the glove, her arm clanked to the floor.
But the circuit of dark power still existed. The woman had called upon the power, and another bolt of mystical energy struck like lightning from above.
Without the glove on, it fried Mrs. Post where she stood. Tendrils of the energy crackled around her as she shrieked in agony. Her skin burned, then blackened, but the lightning continued, until she imploded in a flash of power, leaving nothing behind but the glove, and a dead woman's arm.
All around the room, they began to rise. Willow, Angel, and Faith. Xander stumbled in from the patio. Slowly, they walked toward the center of the room where the smoke still rose from the woman's horrible death. They stared at the arm.
When the spider-prongs suddenly retracted one by one from the dead flesh, they all jumped, just a little.
December 10, 1998 – Wednesday
Gateway High School
The following morning, Willow sat in the student lounge with Oz, his arm slung casually over her shoulder. Xander and Cordelia were across from them. It was much needed down time.
"So there's no more glove thingy?" Cordelia asked hopefully.
"A little Living Flame, a little mesquite … gone for good," Xander reassured her.
Oz nodded once. "Sounds like we missed a lot of fun."
"Then we're telling it wrong," Xander countered.
"What do you think Buffy and Angel are gonna do?" Willow asked.
Xander offered a tiny shrug. "Boy, do I don't know."
"Well," Willow said slowly, "he saved me from a horrible, flamey death. That sort of makes me like him again."
"As long as she and Angel don't get pelvic, we'll be okay, I guess," Xander observed.
A moment later, Buffy walked over, beautiful in black and beige. But that beauty stopped at her eyes, which were filled with anxiety. She seemed to hesitate for a moment before speaking. "What are you guys talking about?"
"Oddly enough, your boyfriend. Again," Oz informed her.
With a forlorn sigh, she sat. "He's not my boyfriend. Really and truly. He's… I don't know." She turned cautiously to Xander. "I'm sorry for what I said last night. Are we cool?"
"Yeah," he said, a little too lightly. Then his voice lowered and he became more serious. "Just… seeing the two of you kissing, after everything that happened … I leaned toward the postal. But I trust you."
"I don't," Cordelia sniped. "Just for the record."
A few feet away, Giles cleared his voice. They all turned toward him. He held a cup of tea in one hand, and was a bit pitiful with the bandage on his head.
"Let me guess," Buffy ventured. "Gwendolyn Post, not a Watcher?"
"Yes, she was," he revealed. "She was kicked out of the Council a couple of years ago for misuses of dark power. They swear there was a memo."
Buffy nodded. "Well, I'd better go. Little more damage control."
Sun Spot Motel
Faith sat in her run-down motel room and watched a lot of nothing on TV while flipping through a magazine.
The knock at the door surprised her.
"Come in," she called.
Buffy opened the door and stepped inside. "Hey."
Faith would not look at her. Too many things whirled in her head, the things she had allowed herself to hope, and the way she had felt when she discovered that she had been deceived.
"Place looks nice," Buffy noted.
"Yeah, it's real Spartan," Faith replied coldly.
There was a pause before Buffy continued. "How are you?"
"Five by five."
"I'll interpret that as good." Buffy sighed. "Look, Gwendolyn Post, or whoever she may be, had us all fooled. Even Giles."
"Yeah, well, you can't trust people. I should've learned that by now," Faith observed bitterly.
"I realize this is gonna sound funny coming from someone who just spent a lot of time kicking your face, but you can trust me," Buffy told her.
Faith finally looked at her, not amused. "Is that right?"
"I know I've kept secrets. But I didn't have a choice. I'm on your side."
"I'm on my side," Faith retorted coldly. "And that's enough."
"Not always," Buffy argued.
"Is that it?" she asked.
With a hurt expression, Buffy nodded. "Yeah, I guess."
"All right. Well, then, I'll see you," Faith said, dismissing her.
Buffy turned to go. Faith looked down, doubt and hurt and hope all battling inside her. "Buffy?" she ventured.
"Yeah?" Buffy said.
Faith almost spoke up. Instead she just shook her head. "Nothing."
Buffy left, and Faith was alone.
Faith looked at the door wondering if she could trust Buffy to help her… She pulled out a locket from beneath her shirt and opened it to reveal a picture of two fraternal twin baby girls. "I swear, Hope, I will find you some day."