�����He sighed again. It really didn't seem fair. He had tried to keep that visit a secret only because he didn't want to disturb the new life Buffy had begun to build for herself after his departure from Sunnydale. It was his sheer bad luck that he'd run into her friends during his protective surveillance. He should have known that either Willow or Xander was bound to spill the beans about his presence - Willow because her conscience wouldn't let her keep it from Buffy, Xander because of his tendency to let his mouth become detached from his brain. And Buffy, being Buffy and ultra sensitive where their relationship was concerned, of course had put the worst possible interpretation on his secrecy.
�����Angel stopped at the phone booth and dug a handful of loose change from his pocket. He listened as the coins clinked their musical way into the system, then dialed her number. The phone on the other end rang three times before being picked up. Angel moistened his lips, preparing his speech.
�����"Hi, you've reached Buffy and Willow. Sorry we're not here to answer your call but please leave your number after the beep and we'll get back to you. �Bye."
�����He opened his mouth to speak but no words came, only a strangled cry as a jolt of agony such as he'd never experienced paralyzed him. Distantly he heard a sound that reminded him of electricity zapping. The receiver dropped from his numb fingers as he dropped to the ground like a felled tree, jerking uncontrollably in every limb.
�����Two men cautiously emerged from concealment in a grove of shrubbery about twenty-five feet away and walked toward him, guns held at the ready. Helplessly, unable to speak or move more than his eyes, Angel watched them approach. They were powerfully built, dressed in military camouflage, their young faces wary. One was black, the other Caucasian. The guns they held were unlike any he'd ever seen, with oversized muzzles. They reminded him of a child's space gun from the Fifties.
�����The white man reached for the dangling telephone receiver, put it to his ear and listened. After a second he said, "Hello?" then shrugged and replaced it.
�����Angel felt the approach of a third person behind him. This unseen person asked, "Is he immobilized?" It was a young voice, a male perhaps in his middle twenties, but it held authority. Angel strained to hear through the debilitating effects of whatever he'd been shot with. A drug? Poison? His muscles continued to spasm, out of his conscious control.
�����"Yes," the black man said.
�����"Good. Did you find out who he was calling?"
�����"No one answered," came the reply from the white man. "I heard a click, like an answering machine shutting off, and then just dead air."
�����"Too bad. I'd be interested to know just who a vampire might be calling. Oh well, let's get him to the lab. Forrest, you and Graham grab his legs. I'll watch our path."
�����Angel felt his legs being lifted. The next thing he knew he was being dragged across the rough ground. The third man entered his line of sight, glancing down at him indifferently. Angel experienced a jolt of startled recognition. This was the young man he'd seen with Buffy on his previous visit. The good-looking young man she'd been talking to with every appearance of enjoying the conversation. His mind whirled.
�����"Hold it. There's something up ahead."
�����Angel's captors hauled him under the bushes. "Who is it, Riley?" Angel recognized the black man's voice. The third man - Riley - swore. "It's more vamps. Three of them."
�����"Do we go after them?" It was the other member of the trio.
�����Riley swore again. "Damn, they're stalking a group of students." A shrill scream split the night air. "Go! I'll stay with this one."
�����The sound of running feet slowly faded from earshot. Riley's face appeared once more in Angel's limited view. He squatted down beside the helpless vampire and ran a clinical eye over him. Apparently satisfied by what he saw, Riley gave a little nod and started to stand up. Suddenly his attention was caught by the ring on Angel's right hand. He lifted the hand and inspected the ring closely.
�����"A claddagh ring." Riley glanced at his victim. "Friendship, loyalty, and love. Which one of your victims did you take this from?" His tone was hard. With difficulty he pulled the ring off Angel's finger and put it on his own hand.
�����Burning rage swept through Angel with the force of a tidal wave. He managed to make a low, guttural noise. Riley met his eyes, and Angel hoped his fury showed in their expression. Riley merely looked contemptuous. Then he turned, taking up a guard position a few feet away. Angel mentally groaned. What was going on? Who were these soldiers, and what was Buffy's connection to this Riley person?
�����He heard footsteps coming toward them and a familiar sensation swept through him, the realization that Buffy was nearby.
�����She knew.
�����"Where did you get that?" she asked hoarsely. Riley followed her gaze.
�����"The claddagh ring?" Riley held up his hand. He motioned behind him with his head. "I took it off him. It probably belonged to one of his kills."
�����"Oh my God." Buffy's face drained of blood.
�����"What's wrong?" He was completely bewildered.
�����Buffy brushed past him and threw herself on her knees beside Riley's captive, frantically pushing away the shrubbery to get a look at him. A familiar face came into sight. Her heart stopped.
�����"Angel," she whispered.
�����Riley was appalled. Cursing silently, he followed her. "God. Buffy, I'm sorry. I didn't know it was someone you knew - "
�����Buffy whirled on him furiously. "What have you done to him?" An illogical question, born of panic, since she knew very well what had been done to Angel: He'd been zapped with one of their damned military-issue tazer stun guns. She turned back to Angel and began carefully pulling him out from under the concealing bushes.
�����Once he was out in the open Buffy sat on the ground and lifted his head onto her lap, smoothing his face tenderly. "Are you all right?"
�����Still caught in the effects of the stun gun, although he thought it was beginning to wear off a trifle, Angel could only utter another incoherent sound. Buffy glared up at Riley. "How long until this wears off?"
�����Riley hovered helplessly over her. "About an hour." He looked at her with compassion. "Buffy, this isn't your friend, you know that. He's changed; he's a vampire now. I'm sorry, but the person you knew is gone."
�����"No," Buffy said evenly. "The person I know is right here. His name is Angel and he's two hundred and forty-five years old . . . give or take a few. And, yes, he's a vampire."
�����The look on Riley's face almost made her laugh. Buffy continued, "But this particular vampire got his soul back over a hundred years ago, and since then has fed exclusively on animals." She decided not to complicate things by mentioning either his return as Angelus two years before or the fact that Angel had drunk her own blood one time.
�����Riley blinked and frowned. "He got his soul back? What do you mean? What's his soul got to do with anything?"
�����"What?" Buffy stared at him. "Riley, you hunt and capture vampires. Don't you know anything about them?"
�����"I know they're evil and they're killers," Riley answered flatly. "What else do I need to know?
�����"I thought knowledge was supposed to be power," Buffy retorted sarcastically. "Vampires are demons inhabiting a human body. When someone is turned into a vampire, they die. The demon takes over the dead body but it doesn't get the soul. That's gone, which is why vampires have no conscience, no remorse."
�����Listening to her, Angel managed the faintest of smiles. She was repeating almost the exact same words he'd used to her four years ago when she'd first discovered he was a vampire. Their eyes met, and Buffy returned his smile. She too remembered. Absently she brushed a small clump of dirt off his hair; her hand lingered, softly caressing.
�����Angel closed his eyes, loving her presence, her touch, despite his risky situation. He was sure now that the effects of the mysterious weapon were less than they had been. He was able to blink and to move his eyes, his limbs were no longer twitching out of control, and he felt his strength slowly beginning to return.
�����Buffy went on, with considerable editing. "Angel was given his soul back by a tribe of gypsies, and ever since has tried to atone for the evil he once did. He's killed at least as many vampires as I have, and more than once he's saved my life."
�����Not to mention captured my heart, but somehow I don't think that argument will help right now.
�����With every word Riley's disbelief grew. "So this guy's a good vampire? Is that what you're telling me?"
�����"Yes." Buffy looked him straight in the eye. "I'm also telling you that Angel is my friend and no way am I going to let you take him to that lab. You might as well try to take Willow or Xander."
�����"Did I hear my name?" Willow popped into view and stopped dead at the scene before her. "Angel? Oh my God, what happened?" She dropped to his side. "Are you all right?" When he didn't answer she turned to Buffy. "What's wrong with him?"
�����"He ran into the soldier boys and got hit with one of their stun guns."
�����Willow looked at Riley with widened eyes. " You did this to Angel? Oh boy!" Her tone suggested she wouldn't want to be in his shoes as her eyes flicked over to Buffy. Then she frowned. "Stun guns! Is that what you use in your games? Kind of dangerous, don't you think?"
�����She eyed him sternly, then took a second look at the gun he'd forgotten to conceal. Her eyes suddenly grew wide again. "You're not playing war games, are you?" she asked evenly. "That gun is meant to be used. You were out hunting tonight."
�����"Uh . . . " Already stunned by the fact that Willow obviously also considered this, this vampire to be a friend, her question caught Riley off guard. He fumbled to find an excuse and looked at Buffy in appeal. She merely raised an eyebrow, pointedly saying nothing. "Well . . ."
�����"It's to kill vampires with, isn't it?" Willow demanded hotly. "All this war game stuff was just a, a bunch of hooey! You're a vampire hunter! What do you do, collect a bounty on them, like those werewolf hunters?"
�����"Werewolf hunters?" Riley seemed in a daze. "Bounty?"
�����Buffy realized that Willow was on the verge of revealing Oz's secret werewolf identity. "Willow, chill. Riley isn't a bounty hunter and the important thing right now is to get Angel away from here before the others get back."
�����Willow was still visibly seething but she clamped down on her emotions. Turning her back on Riley she surveyed the recumbent vampire. "Angel, can you move at all?"
�����With an effort that brought beads of sweat to his face, Angel managed to raise his head about an inch. Riley stiffened in shock. "That's impossible. He should barely be able to blink."
�����Angel moistened his dry mouth. "Age." The word came out more as a croak than anything, but Buffy understood. She ducked under his arm and pulled him into a more or less upright sitting position. "I don't think you've captured many two-hundred-year-old vamps, Riley. The older they are, the stronger they are."
�����Willow came over to Angel's other side and helped Buffy get him standing, then they stopped so Willow could get her breath. Angel was still a dead weight, and even Buffy's Slayer strength was finding it something of a challenge to keep him vertical.
�����They took a step forward. Willow staggered and lost her footing, falling ignominiously to the ground. Angel started to fall too. Buffy cried out and Riley instinctively reached out and caught Angel by the arm, stopping his downward slide.
�����He pulled the vampire's arm around his neck and met Buffy's gaze. "Where do you want to take him?"
�����"Where will he be safe from your crew?" Buffy countered. "They'll be here any minute and we can't go far like this."
�����Riley thought. "There's a maintenance shed on the other side of those trees." He nodded toward a stand of trees about twenty yards away. "I might be able to get it open."
�����"If you can't, I will," Buffy said briefly. "Let's go." Willow led the way.
�����The journey across the campus seemed to take forever, with Buffy's every nerve straining to hear if they were being followed. The cloud cover had finally dissipated. Bright moonlight streamed over the campus and the friendly, concealing darkness was no more. Every snapping twig, every far off voice caused her heart to jump in her throat for fear they'd been discovered by the Initiative soldiers. Finally they reached the shed. It was locked, of course. Riley reached into a pocket in his vest. "I have a lock pick."
�����Buffy shook her head. "We don't have time." She took hold of the door handle and pushed down, hard. It broke with a loud crack! and the door sprang open. Riley blinked. "Hurry," she panted.
�����They got Angel inside and propped him up, sitting, against the wall. He was strong enough now that he could keep himself upright. Willow and Riley then exited the shed, leaving him with Buffy.
�����"How are you feeling?" Buffy asked him, busily straightening his rumpled clothing.
�����"Better," he mumbled. "Buffy - " He tried to raise his hand to her cheek.
�����"Not now," she interrupted. "There's something I have to do first." She got up. Angel's hand fell to his side. He followed her with his eyes as she walked outside to where Riley waited. As they faced each other, Willow tactfully joined Angel inside the shed.
�����"Are you feeling better?" she asked him. "Yes," Angel said briefly, watching the couple in the doorway. Willow sighed silently, wishing herself out of this complicated triangle but knowing Buffy and Angel might need her help.
�����Before Buffy could say anything, Riley pulled the claddagh ring off his finger. "Here. I gathered you'd be wanting him to have this back."
�����"Thank you," Buffy told him, taking the ring. "What are you going to tell your friends?"
�����Riley shrugged. "I'll think of something."
�����"Will you get in trouble for letting him escape?"
�����Riley met her eyes. "Do you care?"
�����"Yes," Buffy said simply.
�����Riley smiled, rather sadly. "Well, that's good to hear. The answer is that I don't know if I'll be in trouble or not." He shrugged again. "I'll just have to see."
�����He turned his head sharply as voices called out nearby. "Quick, get inside with the others. Wait an hour before trying to leave the campus. It should be safe by then."
�����"Right." Buffy stepped back into the building. They exchanged a long look, then Riley shut the door. He was just in time, for only a moment later Forrest and two other Initiative members came around the corner. Their voices came through the walls clearly.
�����"Riley! Where have you been? Where's the vamp? Did someone already come for him?"
�����"No." Riley's voice. "He got away somehow after you left. I've been searching the area for him."
�����"What?" It was Forrest, incredulous. "How could he get away? He was zapped!"
�����"I don't know how." Riley sounded grim and utterly convincing. "I only know that after everyone finally left I went to check on him and he was gone. Maybe somehow he didn't get the full effects of the gun - or he had some kind of natural immunity or something. I don't know."
�����"The Professor isn't going to like that," observed an apprehensive voice. "What about this hut? Did you look in here? Hey, the door's broken!"
�����Buffy held her breath. The shed door was closed but, since the lock was broken, it hadn't latched.
�����"Yeah, I saw that," Riley said quickly as the soldier reached around him and gave the door a gentle push that swung it open about an inch. "That's why I checked inside. I'd just finished when I heard your voices. He's nowhere around here. Let's search the other side of the campus." Their voices faded as they moved off.
�����Inside the shed, no one spoke or moved for several minutes, then Buffy cautiously edged over to the door and listened. After a moment she peered out, even more cautiously.
�����"They're gone," she reported softly, closing the door and returning to where the others sat. She knelt down. "But I think we better stay quiet, in case they come back. Or someone else comes along."
�����"Good job, Riley," Willow murmured. "That was fast thinking. Buffy, what's going on?"
�����"Not now, Will, please. Later, at Giles'. I promise." Buffy turned to face Angel. "Here." She gave him his ring, helped him put it on his finger. Now that the first shock of seeing him in danger was past, she felt anger stir. He didn't wait for her to begin her usual attack.
�����"Buffy, you're in danger." His voice was a thin whisper, still a tiny bit slurred.
�����"Gee, there's something new and different," she commented sarcastically. "So, did Doyle have another vision?"
�����"No." Angel looked away. "Doyle's dead."
�����Buffy gasped, as did Willow, who had heard of Angel's colleague from her friend. Buffy put her hand on Angel's arm. "I'm so sorry, Angel. What happened?"
�����He swallowed. "We were trying to save a boatload of half-breeds from a group of full-blood demons out to purify their bloodline. Doyle managed to disable their genocide weapon before they could set it off, but it killed him."
�����His speech was almost back to normal.
�����"I only met him for a minute," Buffy said sadly, "but he seemed very nice - and I know you were friends."
�����"Yes," was all Angel said but his flat response held a world of hurt. Buffy squeezed his arm in sympathy. He looked down at her hand and covered it with his own, an act which still took more physical effort than he liked.
�����As always, the heat of her touch seemed to permeate his entire being. The memory of her warm tongue licking melted ice cream off his bare chest during their lost night sprang unbidden to his mind. Assaulted by yet another stabbing ache of loss, his vision grew blurry.
�����Although he quickly looked away Buffy noticed. She squeezed his arm again. "I'm sorry," she repeated. "I know how much it hurts to lose someone you care about."
�����She meant only to sympathize with him for the loss of his friend, and had actually been thinking of Kendra when she spoke. It wasn't until she heard her own words that she realized how they could be misconstrued.
�����Angel's dark gaze met hers. The moonlight shone in through a small window, illuminating his face. In his eyes she read a depth of sorrow that shook her. Sorrow and something else, a kind of patient, aching endurance, as if a pitiless Fate had dealt still another blow to this man who'd already shouldered more burdens than most people could bear.
�����Her breath caught in her throat, and the anger she'd automatically summoned in defense against the pain of his presence, died a shamefaced death.
�����"Angel, I didn't mean - that wasn't a dig - " she stammered.
�����He moved his head slightly, just a fraction, and managed a twisted smile. "I know. It's all right."
�����Willow could take no more. Being around these two with their hopeless love was almost as painful for her as it was for them. Rising to her feet she murmured, "Buffy, I'm going to take a look outside, see if the coast is clear."
�����Buffy hesitated. "Riley said to wait an hour."
�����"I heard him." Willow didn't sound impressed. "I know it's not safe for Angel to leave and you need to stay with him, but there's no reason why I can't go to the dorm and call Giles or Xander. We're going to need a car, aren't we? I mean, if we're taking Angel to Giles' place."
�����"Well," Buffy glanced at Angel. "Yes."
�����Angel interrupted. "Willow, there's no need to call anyone. My car is parked in the south visitor's lot."
�����"Oh. Duh." Willow rolled her eyes. "You have a car; I forgot." Buffy too shook her head in disgust at her own forgetfulness.
�����"Here are the keys." Angel fished them out of his pocket with little difficulty and held them out. "Hey," Willow noted. "You're getting your strength back. That's great."
�����Buffy took the keys and tossed them to Willow. She caught them, then went to the door and opened it a crack. "Okay, do you guys hear anyone coming?" They all listened, then Angel and Buffy both shook their heads. "Neither do I. I'll be back soon." She smiled reassuringly and slipped outside, pulling the door shut behind her. After a second they heard her moving away.
�����Silence fell. Finally Buffy said, "So why do you think I'm in danger? I mean, since there wasn't a vision this time."
�����"There was a vision," Angel replied. "It came to Cordelia. She sort of inherited them from Doyle."
�����"Cordelia? How?" Buffy was open-mouthed.
�����"Just before Doyle died he kissed her," Angel said. "Cordelia said she felt something different but she just thought it was because of the . . . the circumstances. But apparently it was Doyle passing his gift on to her."
�����"Oh." Buffy took several moments to absorb this, then gave him a wry look. "Why do I suspect that Cordelia isn't appreciating this particular gift?"
�����"You're right, she's not. She spent the first few days kissing almost everybody in sight, trying to pass it along to someone else." Angel's mouth quirked. So did Buffy's. Then she sighed. "Okay. So what did Cordy's vision have to say?"
�����"Not much, unfortunately. She's still learning how to decipher them. Basically all she could tell was that the danger involved Sunnydale and you."
�����"Not meaning to criticize here, but that's not very helpful," Buffy observed. Angel ruefully agreed, saying, "I'd hoped that the danger would become apparent once I got here, but - "
�����"So far the only one at risk has been you," Buffy finished. She paused. "Angel, I'm sorry. I guess I should have warned you about the Initiative commandos, but I didn't think you'd be coming here again. Not this soon, anyway."
�����"Buffy, who are these people?" Angel asked quietly. "What do they want with live vampires?"
�����Buffy sighed. "That's the question of the hour. I wish I knew the answer to it. I know what I've been told by Riley and Professor Walsh - she's the one in charge of the Initiative - but I also know what Spike told us."
�����She smiled rather grimly at Angel's startled exclamation, and told him of Spike's capture and his escape from the Initiative lab, and what had been done to him there.
�����Angel looked thoughtful. "So he literally can't harm a living being, not even animals? Not even in self-defense? He must be going crazy by now."
�����"He is," she said wryly.
�����"Buffy - " Angel hesitated, then bit the bullet. "This Riley. Can you trust him?"
�����She didn't say anything for several long moments, then she sighed. "If you'd asked me that a month ago, before I knew about the Initiative, I'd have said yes without even thinking about it. Now . . . I just don't know."
�����She rose to her feet. "Do you feel strong enough to stand? �Cause it'll be a big help if you can make it to the car when it's here without Willow and me dragging you."
�����Angel accepted the change of subject without protest. Slowly he drew his legs in toward his body, then partly beneath him. Rolling onto one hip and pushing against the floor he achieved a semi-kneeling position, although he was still leaning on the floor. Buffy squatted down beside him, pulling his free arm over her shoulders. "Okay, on three?"
�����He nodded, readying his determination. "One. Two. Three." With Buffy's assistance Angel got to his feet, although he found it necessary to lean against the wall to stay on them. Buffy moved to the front so she could see his face
�����"How are you doing?"
�����Angel looked down. His arm still covered her shoulders, her arm circled his waist. Something pulled tight in his chest; if he hadn't known better he would have said his heart skipped a beat. He tried to speak and failed. Swallowing, he made a second attempt.
�����"I'm . . . doing all right." His voice came out in a harsh whisper. His eyes met hers and were captured.
�����Buffy stared into his eyes. She took a breath and moistened her lips. "Good. We'll . . . wait a minute, then see how you do at . . . walking."
�����Angel nodded slowly, still lost in her gaze and the impact of her physical closeness. To his utter surprise he heard his voice saying, "I think this is a record for us."
�����"What is?" she asked softly.
�����"We've been together for more than five minutes without having even one fight." The next moment he could have bitten his tongue off. What in God's name possessed him to say that? Talk about waving a red flag in front of a bull, not to mention breaking the mood!
�����But to his astonishment Buffy didn't instantly go on the offensive. Instead, after a second she said, quietly, "That's probably because I haven't been attacking everything you say, the way I normally do - sometimes before you even say anything."
�����In all honesty, Angel couldn't deny it. Buffy smiled sadly and continued. "I don't meant to do it, but - whenever I see you, all these emotions just rise up and explode inside me. And then I explode at you. I'm sorry, but I can't stop myself. It just hurts so much to see you again." The final words were a mere whisper. The atmosphere around them became charged with emotion.
�����"Buffy, don't." His voice shook. "Don't do this."
�����Buffy ignored his plea. "Angel, I love you so much and I know you love me, and I know this separation is just as hard on you as it is on me . . . but a part of me has never forgiven you for leaving, and that part is so . . . angry . . . at you! It's easier to show the anger, and it doesn't hurt." Her voice cracked.
�����"And now you're here, and your arm is around me and you're so close, and I can't stand it!" She was crying. "God, Angel, isn't there some way it can work with us?"
�����"Buffy, don't." Angel pleaded brokenly. Her eyes, large and tragic and drowned in tears, pierced him to the bottom of his soul. He'd seen her cry like this too many times; and too often he had been the cause of her tears. As fast as his thumbs brushed the falling drops off her cheeks, more followed in their wake.
�����"Please don't. It tears me apart to see you like this." He cradled her against him, almost weeping himself. "God, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have come here. I should have just called Giles and let him handle it."
�����Her arms tightened convulsively around his waist. "No," Buffy whispered. "That would have hurt just as much, only in a different way. At least with this pain I also get the joy of seeing you."
�����"Buffy," he whispered raggedly. He bent down and they kissed. The touch of her lips jolted him as much as the stun gun had earlier, only this jolt didn't paralyze him. Far from it. Every nerve in his body blazed into joyous life.
�����Her arms slid up his chest to his neck and he caught her to him. This time the kiss was deeper, hungrier. Angel felt Buffy straining against him; her tiny hands caressed his back and shoulders, his buttocks. Desire flared.
�����As if in warning, the memory of another kiss rose before him, the time just after he'd turned human when he'd almost lectured them both into taking their new relationship slowly and carefully. While saying goodbye Buffy had put her hand on his, and with that simple touch he'd known how ridiculously futile his attempts at caution were, like a child building a dam on the beach to hold back the ocean. Their love could not, would not, be denied its fullest expression.
�����He'd pulled her into his arms and their resulting passion had all but wrecked the kitchen. The table there still wobbled due to an inexpertly mended leg that had broken from the weight of their bodies atop it.
�����Groaning, he buried his head in Buffy's hair, still holding her tightly. He'd been fully human at that time. What had happened then couldn't happen now, or he'd lose his soul and turn evil again. He groaned again, and felt himself trembling.
�����Buffy went very still, her body rigid in his embrace. "We can't do it, can we? We can't be together," she whispered. Her eyes, when he looked into them, were as lifeless as her voice.
�����"It's not fair, you know," she went on, dully. "All we want is to be able to love each other. Why should that be so difficult?"
�����She pulled away, adding in the same monotone, "I think I hear Willow coming with the car." Angel reached for her but she evaded his grasp. Outside he heard a car approaching.
�����"I'm sorry, Angel," she whispered, looking at him with those dead eyes. "I was being totally selfish. I forgot how much you have to lose if we . . . . It won't happen again." The engine noise cut off and a door slammed.
�����"Buffy - " He tried again to take her arm, but she looked away, holding up one shaking hand, palm outward.
�����He knew that gesture; it was heartbreakingly familiar. It was a plea for him to stop; it meant that she couldn't take any more, that if he said another word she might break. Besides, what could he tell her? Nothing had changed, their situation was just as hopeless as ever. A cry of anguish welled up from deep within him.
�����Willow appeared in the doorway just in time to hear Angel cry out and see him deliver a powerful blow to the wall with his clenched fist. Large cracks appeared in the plaster, radiating out on every side from the point of impact. A shower of white flakes drifted to the floor.
�����She stopped dead, her startled glance darting back and forth from Angel, leaning against the wall, his face a mask of torment, to Buffy, who had obviously been crying, standing still and silent a few feet away, staring bleakly into space. "Uh, Buffy - the car's outside," she ventured.
�����Buffy looked at her but it seemed to take a moment before Willow's words registered. "Okay," she finally said and started to leave, then paused, turning her head slightly. "Angel, can you walk?"
�����Angel slowly raised his head. "I think so," he said dully. Moving like an old man, he straightened up and took one step forward, wavered and caught himself against the wall. Buffy made an involuntary movement, as if to go to him, but stopped herself. After a doubtful glance at her, Willow went to Angel's side and offered her support.
�����"Thank you," he said in a mechanical tone, and leaned on her shoulder. He had regained even more strength in the past few minutes, so although their progress was slower than it would have been otherwise, he walked without any real problem. It took slightly less than one minute for them to cross the fifteen or twenty feet to the car parked in front of the shed.
�����Buffy opened the front passenger door and Willow helped Angel onto the seat. It was then that she saw his hand. It was swollen and deep abrasions marred the skin. Vampires retained just enough blood in their system to rise to the surface if the skin was cut or scraped, and Angel's hand glistened darkly in the moonlight. "Angel, your hand."
�����Angel didn't even look at it. "It'll be all right," he said in that same dead voice.
�����Buffy brushed Willow aside and, kneeling down, took his hand in hers, probing it gently. "I don't think anything's broken," she said after a minute.
�����Angel slowly turned his head. "It'll be fine," he told her gently. His fingers curled around hers, holding them captive.
�����Buffy kissed his hand without looking at him. "This is my fault too," she whispered shakily. "I'm sorry." Before he could respond she withdrew her hand and got into the back seat. Twenty minutes later they pulled up in front of Giles' apartment.
�����Giles was on the phone. "No, Cordelia, I haven't heard from either one of them. I can't get hold of Buffy and I haven't the faintest idea where Angel might be."
�����He listened. "Cordelia, the university campus is rather large, you know. I can't just go roaming around it, especially at night, hoping to run into one of them. Look, I've left word for Buffy at her house, at her dorm room, and with Xander. Sooner or later she'll get it and then I'll relay the message to her."
�����Again he listened, rolling his eyes in exasperation. "Yes, of course if I see Angel I'll tell him, too. That is who your message is for, after all." The doorbell rang. "Cordelia, someone's at the door, I have to go. Goodbye!" Muttering, Giles banged the receiver down, then went to the door.
�����"Buffy, thank goodness! I've been trying to reach you. It seems Angel is - " he began, only to blink when he saw the others coming up behind her. " - right here with you," he finished lamely. Then he noticed that the vampire was leaning on Willow. "Good lord, what's happened?" He hurried out and took Willow's place, lending Angel his arm for support.
�����"Thanks," Willow sighed, rotating her shoulders to ease the strain. "No offense, Angel, but you sure are heavy."
�����"One might even say dead weight." Giles' rather pleased smile faded when no one responded to his quip. He made a resigned face. "Right, let's get you inside."
�����Angel made it into the house without assistance, although Giles hovered close to him just in case. He sank wearily into the armchair and closed his eyes.
�����"What happened?" Giles asked again.
�����"Angel ran into Riley's commandos about an hour ago. They zapped him." Buffy supplied tersely.
�����Giles noticed that she was staying as far away from Angel as was possible without going into another room. His eyes flickered over her face, noting the slight redness of nose and eyes, and he knew she'd been crying. Glancing at Angel, he recognized signs of strain on his face also, and sighed mentally.
�����"I see. Well, you seem to be recovering from the effects, thank God. Quite miraculously, in fact, compared to Spike's experience. He said he was completely helpless for at least two hours. I assume your more rapid recovery would be because of your age?" Angel nodded without saying anything, eyes still shut.
�����"You don't seem surprised to hear about it." Willow eyed Giles thoughtfully.
�����"Yes, well . . . " Giles cleared his throat. "I've had a phone call from Cordelia - several of them, in fact. It seems that after you left, Angel, she had another vision, one that was clearer than the previous one. She now knows what the danger is."
�����All eyes turned to him, waiting. Giles looked straight at Angel. "The danger wasn't to Buffy, it was to you. The vision was to warn you to stay away from Sunnydale, I now presume because of the Initiative."
�����There was a moment of complete silence. Then Angel gave a short, bitter laugh. "So instead, I came charging up here and walked right into it. What a farce."
�����A flash of light illuminated the room. A clap of muted thunder made their ears ring. When the light and the noise died down they could see that a glowing figure stood in the middle of the living room - a woman dressed in the chiton of Ancient Greece, her face and body shadowed with strange, bluish markings. Her dark curls were caught up in ribbons wound about her head, again in the style of Ancient Greece.
�����"Farcical, indeed," she said.
�����Staring, Angel rose to his feet. "Oracle," he greeted her with disbelief. "Why are you here?"
�����"Why have I appeared to you in this place, you mean?" Her dark eyes roamed over the room disdainfully. "Such poor surroundings would not be my first choice - "
�����Giles raised a sardonic eyebrow.
�����" - but I chose expedience over aesthetics." The eyes returned to Angel. "I would speak with you and the Slayer - " She looked at Buffy " - alone."
�����"And you would be - who ?" Buffy asked. Angel started to answer, but Giles broke in. "Buffy, this is one of the Oracles. There were several in ancient times but I suspect our visitor is from Delphi, yes?" He looked inquiringly at the woman.
�����With utmost dignity, she inclined her head. "Originally, yes."
�����Giles continued. "The Oracles had prophetic powers; they could read the future and would sometimes do so for mortals, given the proper incentive."
�����"The probable future," corrected the Oracle. She took over. "Enough of the lecture. You and the other girl will leave us now."
�����Willow opened her mouth to object, but Giles silenced her with a shake of his head. Rebelliously she followed him out. Giles cast one last, concerned look at the mystical figure before closing the door behind him.
�����The Oracle turned her attention to the couple who remained. She surveyed them coolly, but not without a hint of compassion. "Vampire and Slayer. Your coming was foreseen many centuries ago, and the way prepared. All was in readiness for you to become formidable warriors for our cause. Until something unexpected happened."
�����"What?" Angel asked. Then he shook his head. "Never mind, I think I know. We fell in love, and that screwed up the plan."
�����"Whistler once told me something like that," Buffy said in a barely audible voice.
�����The Oracle looked at them without her usual arrogance. "Certainly not. The love between Vampire and Slayer was not only foreseen but encouraged, for together you are considerably more powerful than you are alone. No, the error was ours, much as it pains me to admit it.
�����"Oracles have the gift of prophecy, it is true, but we are not omniscient. We knew that the Vampire would receive a curse that would restore his soul, but - carelessly - we made no further investigation of that curse, believing it to be only the means of turning him into a warrior for Good and not important in itself. We were wrong and we paid dearly for our error. There was one aspect of the curse we did not foresee, and it nearly ruined everything."
�����"The happiness clause," Buffy stated flatly.
�����The Oracle inclined her head. "Yes. It took us by surprise and, may I say, upset us as much as it did you."
�����Buffy looked straight at the Oracle. "I very much doubt that."
�����"Not for the same reasons, of course," the Oracle acknowledged. "Nonetheless, in the space of an hour one of our most cherished strategies was destroyed and our greatest weapon broken in two."
�����"If we were so important to you, why didn't you take back the day and stop it from happening?" Angel asked her. "Like you did - "
�����Abruptly he stopped, casting a quick glance at Buffy. "Like you have in the past?"
�����"As you were told before, a temporal fold is not something we do lightly. Besides, we can only take back twenty-four hours."
�����The Oracle gave a most human-like sigh. "By the time we discovered the cause of your reversion to evil, it was too late. It wasn't until the Slayer's witch friend cast the curse on you again that we were able to act, and by then it was almost too late."
�����The Oracle turned to Buffy. "Slayer, you have my utmost respect. Sending your lover to Hell when you knew his soul had been returned took courage such as we have rarely seen. It was that very courage that enabled us to bring him back to you. I - "
�����She faltered, then admitted in a low voice, "I do not know whether I could have done what you did, were I human."
�����Buffy had turned white at the Oracle's reminder of that horrible time but she met the penetrating gaze steadily. "I assume all this is leading up to something?"
�����The Oracle nodded briskly. "It is. It has been decided by the Powers That Be that the time is now favorable to regain the future that was altered when Angel lost his soul."
�����"How?" asked Angel bleakly. "I'm still cursed."
�����"When you asked us to take back your humanity - " the Oracle began,
�����"What?" Buffy exclaimed.
�����" - we did so by taking back the day that turned you human."
�����"You were human?" asked Buffy in bewilderment.
�����"And that returned me to my former condition," Angel concluded impatiently. "Nothing has changed. I'm still cursed."
�����"You are a demon cursed with a soul," the Oracle corrected, "but not with anything else." Angel stared at her, unsure of her meaning.
�����"What," Buffy demanded forcefully, "are you talking about?"
�����The Oracle told her. "When you visited the City of Angels recently, you and Angel hunted a Mohra demon that broke into his office while you were there."
�����"No. I remember that a demon burst into his office through the window, but Angel killed it - " Buffy said.
�����The Oracle held up a hand. "Slayer, you do not remember this but believe me when I tell you that it happened."
�����Buffy looked at Angel. He nodded confirmation. Buffy looked more bewildered than ever, but listened. The Oracle continued, "As I said, you and Angel hunted a Mohra demon. You split up. Angel found and fought the demon, stabbing it with its own sword. In the process some of the demon's blood entered Angel's body through a wound. Mohra blood is regenerative."
�����Angel cut in. "It heals by restoring things to their original condition."
�����Buffy's eyes widened. "And some of it got in you?" He nodded. Buffy gazed at him. "It healed you of the vampire demon by restoring your humanity."
�����"Yes." Angel walked over to her. "I was human for the first time in over two hundred years."
�����"Was I still there?" Angel nodded again. Buffy wet her lips. "Did we - ?" Slowly he nodded again, his eyes intent on hers. She whispered, "Was it wonderful?"
�����Angel's eyes grew wet. "It was wonderful."
�����Buffy swallowed. "So now comes the big question: Why don't I remember any of this?"
�����"The Mohra wasn't dead," he told her. "It regenerated itself. I went after it again, but found out that mortal strength was no match for a demon. Luckily you came along and killed it. Later that night I went to the Oracles and asked them to take back my humanity."
�����After a second, Buffy gave a little nod. "Because you knew that if we fought together and you were mortal, I wouldn't be as focused. Part of me would be worrying about you."
�����Angel blinked, surprised at her understanding. "Uh, yes."
�����"Also," the Oracle interrupted, "because we looked into the future and foresaw your early death if he remained mortal."
�����"I see," Buffy said slowly, turning her attention to the strangely-garbed woman. "But the question remains, why don't I remember when Angel obviously does?"
�����"The only way to undo what had been done was to swallow the period in which it happened. To take back the day," said the Oracle. "But in order to stop you from simply repeating your actions, one of you had to remember what had been done. Since it was Angel who came to us, he was the one."
�����"What?" Buffy glared at her. "How dare you take away my memory of what happened? Why couldn't both of us have remembered? That would have been double the insurance that the incident wouldn't happen again."
�����"Would it?" The Oracle regarded her straightly. "Or would it have been double the temptation to repeat it?"
�����Buffy opened her mouth to hotly refute the statement, but honesty compelled her to close it again. "I - I don't know. I do know that the memory of something beautiful and precious is now lost to me, and I resent that."
�����"As I would, were I in your position," the Oracle agreed. "Therefore, I offer you the opportunity to share Angel's memories of that time - if he is agreeable, of course."
�����Buffy looked hopefully at Angel. He made a helpless gesture with his hands. "I guess so, if you're sure you really want them. But first - Oracle, what did you mean when you said I wasn't cursed with anything except a soul?"
�����Buffy gasped. Her eyes grew big and she clutched at Angel's arms. "Angel, she meant there's no happiness clause now!"
�����"What?" Angel's head snapped up. "Is that what you meant?"
�����"It is." For the first time the Oracle gave them a real smile. "When we swallowed the day and restored the curse, we made a small change in it - don't ask how, you wouldn't understand. Just believe me when I say that there is now no obstacle to your happiness."
�����Angel stood dazed. "It's not possible," he mumbled. "Is it possible?" He looked appealingly at the Oracle, who frowned. "Are you saying we couldn't do it?" she demanded dangerously.
����������"No," Angel stammered. "No, I just - "
�����"Good!" she interrupted and dismissed that subject. "By the way, where is my gift?"
�����"Gift?" he repeated vaguely. Then his eyes sharpened. He met her gaze. "Gift? You came to me, I seem to recall. Shouldn't you be bringing the gift this time?"
�����The Oracle's mouth quirked at one corner. "Impudent being!" She pulled a scroll out of thin air, seemingly, and tossed it to Buffy. "Slayer, have your witch friend work this spell. It will enable you to share Angel's memories of the lost day." There came another flash of light and peal of thunder, and she was gone.
�����Angel stared at Buffy. She stared back. "Well?" she finally asked.
�����He licked his lips. "Buffy, maybe we shouldn't rush into anything - " He stopped. "What the hell am I talking about?" He wrapped his arms around her and lifted her into the air.
�����"I was wondering that myself," Buffy murmured just before their lips met in a passionate kiss. She wrapped her legs around his waist as he stumbled toward the couch, forgetting that he wasn't yet at full strength. His legs gave way and they sank to the floor, knocking over the coffee table and spilling its contents on their way down.
�����Outside, Giles and Willow had exhausted all conversation after he'd filled her in on the Initiative commandos, and were silently waiting until it was okay to go back in the house. A sudden crash from inside made them both jump.
�����"What was that?" Willow exclaimed fearfully.
�����Giles stood up. "Wait here," he ordered, moving toward the house. Willow of course did no such thing; she followed right on his heels. Very cautiously, Giles opened the door and took a step inside. He peered around and took another step forward, then another. Suddenly he froze in place, uttering a weird, gargling sound. He opened his mouth then shut it again. Grabbing Willow's arm he practically dragged her out of the house.
�����"Giles?" Willow fought ineffectually against his grip. "Giles, what are you doing? What's wrong? Where are Buffy and Angel?"
�����Giles finally got his mouth in working order. "Nothing's wrong. Buffy and Angel are . . . just fine, I promise you. And I think we should leave them alone for a while. Several hours, possibly." He pulled her toward his car. "Come on, I believe Starbucks is still open. I'll buy you a cappuccino."
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