REVERSAL OF FORTUNES, PART II

by Miles N. Folwer

WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 2. Willow entered the kitchen where Giles was frowning at the microwave. "Mr. Giles? Mrs. Summers told me you were having lunch out here."

Giles turned and brightened. "Oh, Willow, hello. Well, yes, I suppose that last night's pizza qualifies as lunch in some circles. What might I do for you?"

"Actually," said Willow timidly, "It's kinda what I might be able to do for Buffy."

"For Buffy? I-I thought Angel told you that Buffy... Willow, I am afraid that something dreadful has happened. That-that Buffy has met with what can best be described by the cliche 'a fate worse than death'..."

"She's a vampire. I know," said Willow.

"Then I'm not sure I understand what you propose to do for her--or why."

"I'm going to try to restore her soul."

"What?"

"It worked for Angel," argued Willow. "Based on the same principle it should work for Buffy."

"But the two situations are different," Giles objected. "Angel had already been cursed, so it was simply a matter of restoring his soul. Buffy's soul has been lost. You can't just restore it... unless...unless you intend to place upon her the very same curse!" Giles eyes widened in rare excitement accompanied by something akin to horror.

"That's it," said Willow.

"Dear Lord," said Giles, removing and beginning to wipe his glasses. "Do we even have the orb of Thesulah?"

"That's only a slight problem," said Willow. "It's in the library at school, which is kinda off limits at the moment."

"We shouldn't wait too long."

"That's why I'm going to the Magic Shop right after the services today. And I can gather all of the other things I'll need by tomorrow. I would like it if you would help me perform the ritual."

"Of course I'll help," said Giles setting his glasses on his nose.

After the memorial services for the slain cheerleaders, Willow hurried to the Magic Shop. It was open late today for the Christmas season, but she did not want to wait another moment. It was dusk when she arrived at the shop, but her spirits soared for the first time that week as she left with a fragile orb of Thesulah wrapped in newspaper and safely stored in a box and double plastic bags. She had not gone far from the shop when she ran into Angel and Spike. Excitedly, she drew them aside and in hushed tones told them what she planned to do.

"Another vampire with a soul!" complained Spike a bit too loudly. "Bloody cliche, if ya ask me."

"Nobody asked, Spike," said Angel. Then, to Willow, "You think it will work?"

"It has to," she said.

Hours later and having slipped away from Angel with no difficulty, Spike found Buffy and Cordelia's hideout. Trick was correct in his suspicions about how to find them. The gang of renegade vampires were in the abandoned warehouses across the tracks, and Spike simply followed the smell of fresh blood from the nest's victims. As he rounded the corner of a grimy building, someone lunged from a doorway and swept Spike's legs out from under him.

"Darn!" said Harmony, "Another vampire! There's not enough food in this part of town, you know. Why do vampires keep coming here?"

"I dunno," said Spike picking himself up. "What are you doing here?"

"Well, of course, this is our turf."

"And who's we?"

"Wouldn't you like to know. But, you know, you are kinda cute. If you'll be nice to me, I might take you to our hideout."

"That'd be thrilling, pet."

"I'm not your pet, buster," Harmony told him. "I'm empowered. My sire, Malicia, says so. And she says it's sexist to call it 'siring' when a female vampire makes a new vampire. I'm going to suggest we call it 'maring'."

"That sounds like something to put in the suggestion box," observed Spike. "I'd like to meet this Malicia."

"Then follow me. But don't expect anyone to be happy to see another vampire."

"Nobody ever is," said Spike.

Fortunately, the two dozen vampires sharing their last few victims needed little light to see. The entire warehouse was dimly lit by two ancient electric lamps, the rest of the lights having burned out long ago. Entering the room, Spike took in the entire scene in a glance. The place was a mess: dusty, full of broken tables and chairs, vampires grunting and noisily sucking dead and dying naked bodies, carcasses piled like cordwood in the corner in front of a chute that probalby led down to a dumpster at street level. "This is the life," said a suspirant Spike.

An exotic-looking woman in tight-fitting black garb, her black hair pulled back, approached them. Behind her was a tall, relaxed yet alert man with long black hair similarly pulled back. He wore worn, brown leather from shoulder to foot and a black kerchief around his neck. He reminded Spike of a cowboy, although he had no hat or sixshooter.

"Malicia, guess what I found wandering around outside?" enthused Harmony. "Another vampire."

"Coal to Newcastle by the looks of it," ventured Spike.

"That's about the size of it," said the tall male vampire. Spike noticed that he drawled like a cowboy, too, but had a telltale continental accent that might have been Dutch.

"I'm Spike."

Malicia identified herself and thrust her thumb at the Dutch cowboy. "And this is Andreas."

"Pleased to meet you," said Spike. "So who's in charge around here?"

"Don't ask so many questions," said Andreas.

"I've only asked one," objected Spike.

"That's too many," drawled the Dutch vampire.

"Not that I can't guess the answer," said Spike.

"Then why ask?"

"Reckon I'm curious to see whether I'm right."

"Well, if it isn't William the Fucking Bloody!" Descending a rickety staircase with the grace of a princess making a ballroom entrance, was Buffy, outfitted in a red dress with matching pumps and black elbow-length gloves.

"How now," said Spike. He noticed Cordelia leisurely sauntering down the stairs not far behind Buffy.

"I suppose you're here to join our merry band of vampires," said Cordelia.

"I admit the thought had crossed my mind."

"Forget it, Spike," said Buffy. "I may have been reborn yesterday, but I remember your record as a team player."

"What? I play well with others."

"Not!" replied Buffy.

"For instance?" Spike ventured to ask.

"Let me see. There was the Annointed One; you joined his team."

"That worked out all right for you," said Spike.

"Of course it did--when I was the Slayer." All of the vampires who were not previously paying attention now viewed Spike with especial distrust. Buffy continued, "After that there was--oh yes, Angelus. You helped the Slayer--me--send Angelus to hell."

"Well, now, there were what you call extenuatin' circumstances."

"Right," said Buffy. "You weren't getting your way so you betrayed your friends."

"Well, that's a bit harsh..."

"Of course, you couldn't really betray your friends 'cause you never had any. By the way, you still don't--unless you're working for the Mayor and Trick at this very moment."

"Now, why would you think that? Here I come all the way down here to warn you that your old mates are schemin' to re-ensoul you, an' you go off makin' very hurtful insinuations."

Buffy looked stunned for a moment. "Who's re-en-whating who?"

"Ah, there, ya see? Now I've got your attention."

"OK, Spike, what is it you want--that is, if your information doesn't turn out to be a load o' crap as usual."

"Careful, careful about making hurtful insinuations."

"What do you want?"

"Me? Just a little fellowship amongst my own kind, is all."

"You want to join us. Anything else?"

"Wouldn't want another thing in the world. Except my next meal, of course. Which I can help with. I'm a good provider."

"They 're not planning to ensoul me, are they?" asked Cordelia.

"Not that I know of, but, of course, they might change their minds. If it works on Buffy, they might try it on all of us." This remark frightened all of the other vampires: except for one.

"What's re-insoling?" asked Harmony. "Sounds like something people do when they can't afford new shoes."

"That's re-soling you half-wit, and it's not that kind of soul," Buffy said. "So who and how, Spike?"

"What? You don't remember the drill from last year?"

"The orb of Thesulah," said Buffy.

"And guess who's doing the honors--again," said Spike.

"Willow," said Buffy.

Suddenly, Buffy's crew was surrounded by other vampires. "You're a hard girl to find," said Trick as he appeared on the catwalk above them.

Buffy turned furiously toward Spike. "You son of a bitch!"

"It was my idea, actually," said Trick. "All that electronic surveilance I picked up after the Slayerfest was just going to waste, so I decided: might as well put a bug on Spike and let him lead me to you."

"No hard feelin's, Love?" asked Spike.

"Damn if I can muster any, Spike," replied Buffy. "I suddenly find treachery an admirable quality." Buffy turned to Cordelia. "In the future, remind me to search people for wires."

"Future?" fumed Trick. "What makes you think you have any future?" He came down and addressed Buffy's crew. "The rest of you--including Cordelia--have amnesty if you join me, but Miss Buffy, here, is dust."

"Yeah," said Buffy. "You only want to bring them back because the Mayor will have you dusted if you don't. Otherwise you'd eliminate all of them, wouldn't you?"

"Anybody got a problem with their good fortune?" asked Trick. There was silence. "Guess not. Which reminds me, I am sick and tired of you running your mouth," Trick said to Buffy.

"That's funny," replied Buffy, "considering that running yours is about all you do."

"All right. You want to go mano a mano with your sire? Let's do it," said Trick, smiling as he put on his game face. "Everybody stand back and watch a master wipe the floor with little Miss I-Used-to-Be-the-Slayer."

"In your dreams, Trick," said Buffy as the two vampires squared off.

Trick came at Buffy with a roundhouse right punch. Buffy started to duck but then Trick pulled his punch and jabbed with a left. Buffy dodged the jab at the same time that she spun around and kicked at Trick's head. He ducked and then moved in again. Buffy retreated but soon advanced a counterattack. The two fighters scuffled across the floor, onlookers dodging out of the way. Buffy was more stylish and Trick was more of a street-fighter, but both were devious and aggressive and evenly matched.

Finally Trick dropped his game face and turned to the assembled vampires. "Oh, the hell with it," he said. "Free for all! Anyone who can dust her gets first bite on every kill."

Everyone hesitated and no one moved until Cordelia stepped forward to stand by her sire. "I'm with Buffy," she said. "Who else is with us?" As Cordelia put on her game face, Buffy gave Trick a wicked smile. But no one else joined either side.

"You?" Trick asked. "You wanna side with her? Don't you remember she tortured you before she turned you?"

"Well," said Cordelia with an uncharacteristic pause for thought, "I seem to recall being unhappy about it at the time..." She paused again, then smiled, "but now it's one of my fondest memories."

"Suit yourself," declared Trick, and turning to the others he said, "Dust 'em both."

Buffy put her game face back on just as Trick turned his back. She charged toward him, and with a flying kick sent her sire sprawling into a pile of broken furniture. Trick disappeared into a cloud of dust that then settled around the shattered leg of an overturned chair.

The other vampires stared in awe. Cordelia and Buffy braced themselves for an attack, back to back facing down all of them.

"You killed your sire--when he wasn't even looking!" complained Malicia.

"So what?" said Buffy, her face twisted in perplexity. "You were expecting me to be Dudley Doright? We're vampires!"

"None of us would have taken up his offer to attack you," said Andreas. "But then you slew him--like... like a Slayer."

"They're right, you know," said Spike. "Killing one�s sire is just bad form--tempting as it might be. It's the worst sin a vampire can commit." He thought a moment, and a dark shadow passed over his face. "Well, almost the worst sin."

"What do you mean by 'almost'?" Cordelia asked.

"I'd rather not say," said Spike.

"Besides," added Malicia, "the Mayor is going to be pissed now that Trick is gone. He may come after us, too."

"Oh, believe me," said Spike, "he won't care. He was tired of Trick."

"In that case, I propose we offer our services to the Mayor," said Andreas. "Buffy was leading us nowhere, anyway."

"I'll be glad to take you to the Mayor," said Spike.

"And who will you betray us to on the way?" sneered Malicia. "The other Slayer?"

"Now that's unfair," said Spike, putting on his best pout. "I was just doin' the old Trickster a favor."

Harmony boldly walked up to Spike and said, "Save it for someone who doesn't care." At the last moment, however, she flinched. Spike snarled at her, and Harmony retreated. She joined the exodus of vampires.

Malicia turned to Buffy. "We're leaving you unharmed because, unlike you, we don't slay our own kind. Maybe you will understand that some day."

"Well, that just leaves you and me, pet," Spike said.

"There is no 'you and me', Spike," replied Buffy.

"I understand," said Spike. "Their rejection hurts, an' you gotta lash out at whomever."

"You may not have noticed," said Buffy through gritted teeth, "but I seem to still be slaying vampires, and yet you're still here. Near me. Do you have a death wish?"

"Don't we all?" he offered casually. "Look, at least temporarily, neither of us has any allies."

"Not true," said Cordelia. "Buffy and I are allies. Who do you have?" Spike could not answer that. "Besides, they said they wouldn't come after us, so I say we're safe for tonight at least."

"'We' not including Spike," said Buffy, not taking her eyes off of him.

"I say we get out of this part of town," continued Cordelia. "Go find something to eat and a new place to live." She brightened at a thought. "Hey! What if we go eat my family? They have a really cool house, and, besides, I miss my old room."

"I like the way this girl thinks," said Spike.

"Only you would mistake that for thinking," said Buffy.

"Hey!" said Cordelia. "I was ready to put my ass on the line for you. Don't be such an ungrateful bitch."

"And you knew when you were being insulted right off the bat, too," said Buffy. "The new and improved Cordelia."

"Just like with Angel," said Spike.

"What do you mean?" asked Buffy.

"You know what I mean: Angelus is a lot quicker on the uptake than the ensouled model."

"Which reminds me of something I almost forgot," said Buffy.

"What's that?" asked Spike.

"Willow. How soon is she planning this ensouling ritual?"

"Oh, not until tomorrow at the earliest."

"That gives me enough time to have an appetizer before the main course."

"Pretty sure you'll find her, are you?"

"I know Willow. I have an idea where to look."

"Oh, Willow, Willow!" said Cordelia. "Is that brat all you can think of eating? I'd rather eat Snyder."

"Hmm," said Buffy.

"What?" asked Spike.

"Talk about settling old scores."

Willow and Oz met at the mausoleum and combined their preparation for Oz's transformation into a werewolf with a study date. With all that was going on, Willow had had little time to finish her term paper on inventors. Though it wasn�t yet dark, Oz had just put a match to the wicks of a half dozen candles on the ledge by the cage.

�What I wonder is whether a trivial invention like breakfast flakes can be compared to the invention of television,� Willow was saying.

�I like corn flakes better,� said Oz. He sat opposite Willow in one of the lawn chairs they had brought from the Rosenberg�s backyard, but he didn�t face her.

�Well, the first cereal flakes were actually wheat flakes, not corn flakes,� said Willow.

�Still prefer corn flakes,� said Oz.

�Oz, not helping here.�

�Oh, sorry. A little distracted.�

�Yeah,� said Willow, instantly sorry she had snapped at him. When she looked at him again, she could see that he was having one of his pensive moments. He had a lot of them, and it was one of the things that intrigued and frightened her. What was he thinking about?

�Let�s not look at whether the inventions are useful or not,� said Oz. �From what you�ve been saying, the real question is who made the crucial contribution.�

�Well, yeah,� said Willow. "John and Will Kellogg are both credited with inventing cereal flakes, and Philo Farnsworth and Vladimir Zworykin are both credited with inventing television. But in both cases, it was the first one�s idea: John Kellogg and Phil Farnsworth.�

�You�re on a nickname basis with Philo Farnsworth," said Oz. "I�m jealous.� Willow shot him a look of mock annoyance before he continued. �It boils down to the term �crucial contribution�,� he said. �Without Will Kellogg�s contribution, his big brother, John, didn�t actually have flakes, he just had cereal dust. It would be like eating slain vampires.�

�Yuck!�

�Only with milk.�

�Double yuck! Move on from the undead imagery,� suggested Willow.

�OK,� said Oz. �Without Zworykin, Farnsworth�s television was technically still television. Zworykin made television better, but he didn't invent it, even though he's been credited with it.�

�I get it!� said Willow. �Will Kellogg�s contribution was more crucial to the invention of cereal flakes than Zworykin�s was to the invention of television.�

�Yes, although it depends on your point of view.�

�How do you mean?� asked Willow.

�Zworykin lowered the amount of light the camera needs to see, which is fairly crucial if you're actually on TV. Farnsworth�s lighting had to be so bright, people on TV would need sunblock just to read the news.� Willow was laughing at the image of somebody reading the news with lotion on their face when Oz suddenly went into a spasm. The transformation was beginning. Outdoors, the light was failing. �Speaking of a lower amount of light,� said Oz.

�Come on,� said Willow. �Let�s get you into the cage.� She helped him�half carried him�through the open iron door. Oz was in genuine pain now. To Willow, it had seemed in the past that the pain was less and less each time, but up close she could tell that it still hurt him a lot. She could feel Oz�s heart pounding, feel sweat pouring from his armpits and from the small of his back. The scent affected her strangely, both repellent and appealing at once.

She got him to the middle of the cage where, while thrashing about, he would be less likely to throw himself against the bars. She succeeded in tearing his clutching arm from across the back of her neck and shoulders; then she planted a kiss on his lips before reluctantly backing away. �I�ll see you in the morning,� she said, her voice breaking with a longing that surprised her: a longing for the Oz who was slipping away from her, who would be restored to her at dawn, but whose loss she felt now as if it were permanent. She went out and locked the cage door behind her.

Principal Snyder sat alone at his dinner table in his condominium apartment. It was a new building, and thoroughly secure, or so the brochure had said. It had every modern convenience, but the one draw back was that everything was rather small, including the distance from the dining through the living room to front door. Snyder was sipping coffee over a half-eaten slice of apple and a wedge of Velveeta cheese when the doorbell rang. He grunted his annoyance, checked his watch, and walked the few steps to the door. When he opened it, Snyder was shocked to see two of the missing students, Buffy Summers and Cordelia Chase, both wearing black leather outfits and standing there as if they had been invited.

�What�s the meaning of this?� asked Snyder angrily. �Where have you been? You two young ladies are in a lot of trouble, I�ll tell you that. Do the police know you�ve come back? Do your parents?�

�So many questions,� chirped Buffy condescendingly.

�Yeah, aren�t you going to invite us in so we can answer them?� asked Cordelia.

�Of all the nerve!� declared Snyder. But his beady eyes became fixed as he pondered his options. �Oh, very well. Come in, both of you, but only as long as it takes to clear this up. Then I�m calling the police.�

�Oh, I don�t think there would be any point in that,� said Buffy, scanning the apartment as she walked in.

�Nah,� added Cordelia.

�I�ll be the judge of that, missy,� Snyder said to Cordelia. He turned back toward his little dinner table. While his back was to the vampiresses, Cordelia made a face that said, fancy him. Buffy wrinkled her nose in reply, and, as she did, her game face morphed in and out. In a few steps, Snyder was again seated behind his coffee, pie and cheese. �Ms. Summers,� he continued, �I never dreamed that you would once again give me the pleasure of having you expelled. If I had realized that it�s more fun the second time, I�d have readmitted you sooner. Perhaps next year I would be willing to readmit you again, just for the pleasure of re-expelling you. Of course, you realize that these multiple expulsions--not to mention having to do senior year over again--are going on your permanent record, and if you have any dreams of going on to higher education or ever getting a decent job�.�

Buffy brought her eyes within three inches of Snyder�s. �I�ve got news for you, you cheese-eating little gnome: I don�t give a crap about my permanent record.� She put on her game face and watched the blood drain from Snyder�s face. Without turning her glowing green eyes from him, she spoke to Cordelia. �Why don�t you start this time?�

�Eww,� said Cordelia. �Why do we have to eat gnome? Can�t we find a couple of hunky guys to eat?�

�Th-that�s right,� said Snyder, �You d-don�t want me. You want someone who-who's on the-the wrestling team. They�re hunky.�

�He�s making sense to me,� said Cordelia.

�He�s just bargaining to save his ass, Cord,� Buffy, still holding Snyder�s terrified gaze. �Blood�s blood. Besides, a gnome in hand is worth two hunks in the bush.� Buffy broke off her gaze, half turning toward Cordelia. �And that didn�t end up quite where I started.�

�Can�t say the image of hunks in the bush is a turnoff, though,� responded Cordelia dreamily.

�Me neither,� said Buffy. �Funny, but not long ago I would have blushed at my own double-entendre. Now I just feel� liberated.�

�You�re feeling like a horny slut,� said Cordelia, �I always felt like that.�

�No comment,� said Buffy. �What do you say we make an appetizer of Snyde-man, here, and then go out and find you a jock boy-toy?�

�Sounds fine to me, sis,� said Cordelia. As Buffy and Cordelia pressed their cold lips against either side of his neck, Snyder opened his mouth wide as if intending to scream, but the only sound heard in the room was his death rattle, accompanied by the satisfied slurping and gruntling of the two vampiresses.

Afterward, Cordelia asked, �What�s that awful smell?�

�Eww,� said Buffy, �Snyder peed himself. And his carpet.�

�Some people just aren�t civilized,� huffed Cordelia.

"I am sure that this address is familiar," Giles said to Angel as they parked in front the condominium.

"Well, I guess it's also familiar to Buffy or Cordy," said Angel. The two men looked at Cordelia's "Queen C" vanity plate on the sportscar in front of them. A moment later, two figures came skipping out of the front door of the building.

"And there they are," said Giles. "You know that I love Buffy, but I'll be damned if I'm going to let her continue like this." Giles started out of the car with a stake in one hand and a vial of holy water in the other.

"Hold on," said Angel, but although Angel caught up with Giles quickly, so had Cordelia.

"Not exactly my idea of a jock toy, but this'll do," Cordelia said as she knocked Giles down and picked him up with one hand. The vial broke on the sidewalk beneath his feet.

"Let him go!" shouted Angel.

"Or else what?" asked Buffy stepping in Angel's way.

"Buffy," said Angel, and he did not say more, but only moved his lips helplessly.

"'Buffy! Oh, Buffy!'" mocked Buffy in a pittiful tone. "What? Cat got your tongue, Angelus?"

"The name's Angel," he replied.

"And more's the pitty," said Buffy, her lower lip protruding in a pout. Suddenly, Angel punched Buffy with all his speed and might, sending her sprawling on the pavement. He then swiftly smacked Cordelia across her bumpy forehead as she was about to eat Giles. With a yelp the regal vampire fell back on her rump, but she recovered quickly, rolling away before Angel came in for the kill. He now held the stake Giles had dropped plus one of his own.

Once more, Buffy came at Angel--this time with a flying kick, but he dodged her and managed to get behind her before she could turn. He grabbed her arm in an attempted hold, but before he could follow through, it was she who had him in an armlock. He only freed himself by stomping her foot and then throwing her off balance with an elbow to her chest.

When they separated, instead of continuing to engage her, Angel rushed to where Giles was just climbing to his feet. He handed the watcher both stakes.

Cordelia chortled. "Two stakes are as useless as one for that meat sack," she said. Buffy kicked Angel, and soon led him away from Giles. Cordelia moved in to take him, but Giles crossed the two stakes and held them up to Cordelia's face. The vampiress shielded her eyes, squealing and stepping backward.

Meanwhile, Buffy managed to land a kick, knocking Angel over a low wall which retained the soil around the condominium's hedges. Buffy turned and walked swiftly to Cordelia's side.

"Let's get out of here," Cordelia suggested. "This is no fun." But in an instant Buffy was on top of Giles, forcing him to press the crossed stakes against her chest. With sizzle and smoke, the make-shift cross burned marks into her flesh.

"The trick is not minding the pain," she told him. "And, by the way, you do know you're supposed to stick the pointy parts in me, don't you? But then you never could admit you wanted to put your pointy part in me, you dirty old man." Buffy gave him the back of her hand. In the next instant, she was on her feet and taking Cordelia by the arm. "Let's book, girlfriend," she said to Cordelia.

Angel rushed over to Giles side; the watcher was stunned but all right. Then Angel looked up to see Buffy and Cordelia get into their car and drive away.

It was nearly midnight when Willow�s head jerked up from her book. She thought she had just nodded off, but she couldn�t be sure whether she had been dozing for minutes or hours. Her watch read 11:58. It was quiet, but when she listened carefully, Willow could hear a low growl. She looked over at the cage, and saw a four-legged beast where she had left Oz seven hours ago. It was curled up in the middle of the cage, moonlit through the high barred window.

Suddenly the door of the mausoleum crashed open, and Buffy came in, dressed in a black leather jumpsuit and walking in an easy, confident stride. �One of my old haunts,� she observed cheerily. �How could you hope to hide from me here?�

A chill went through Willow, but she said, �I wasn�t trying to hide.�

�Should�ve. Especially since you�re the only one who could perform that ensouling ritual. I have a problem with that.�

�What problem?�

�I was miserable with a soul. I was miserable with that dreary excuse for a life. Could never have what I wanted. Ever.� As Buffy paced back and forth in front of the door, Willow looked about the room for a way out, even though she knew there wasn�t one. She saw Oz-wolf raise his head, looking with interest in Buffy�s direction. �There are two ways to do this, Will. One is that I could just eat you. That would suit me fine, even though I�m not especially hungry. Just ate a few hours ago.�

�Not anyone I know, I hope,� said Willow, edging toward Oz�s cage.

�Well, no one you care about anyway,� replied Buffy. �But that�s only option one. Option two is that I could turn you into one of me. Well, you wouldn�t be me, exactly. You�d be vampire Willow, whatever that would be like. I�m going to leave it up to you. Actually, though, I�d be curious to see you as a vampire.�

�No, thanks," replied Willow.

"Well, we'll see," said Buffy. "Hey! Where do you think you�re going?�

�N-nowhere,� said Willow. �I�m just nervous. I�m moving around because you make me nervous.�

�Aw, you don�t have to be nervous�although I find it keenly flattering that you are.�

�I don�t suppose you�d give me until tomorrow night to think about becoming a vampire,� said Willow.

Buffy laughed. �Oh, clever Will. No, I don�t think I�ll fall for that one, and neither did you, right? You know, I told Cordy about the choice I was going to give you, and she didn�t want to come.�

�Why not?�

�Oh, Will, you know. Cordelia never liked you. Still doesn�t. Doesn�t want to have anything to do with you. Says the last thing she wants to do is eat you, and if I bring you back as a vampire, she�ll never speak to me again. Why does she think that�s a threat? I wish she would promise.�

�If you don�t like Cordelia, then why did you turn her?�

�Good question. Wish I knew. I guess I didn�t want to be lonely. No, that�s not it. Cordelia made my life hell. I think I wanted a little payback.�

�Then why make me a vampire?�

�Not because I ever liked you. Don�t fool yourself. For some reason, though, I didn�t hate you as much as I hated Cordelia. I remember that.�

�I thought so.�

�Thought what?�

�You only half remember Buffy�s likes and dislikes because you�re not Buffy. Buffy�s gone.�

�See, Will, that�s what you call profound. With Cordelia around, I miss profound observations. All you get from Cordy is the obvious.�

�You know,� said Willow, �I�ve known the real Buffy for two years, and I actually thought of her as my hero. I would have given anything to be like her. Now, well, I hope you won�t take this the wrong way, but I�d rather die than become like you.�

�I can live with that,� said Buffy. Then, she cocked her head to one side. �Or should I say �I can exist with that�? You see, I could have used you to check my grammar. Now I�ll just have to get Microsoft Word.�

�Their spelling and grammar checkers are full of bugs,� said Willow. �You can�t rely on them.�

At that, Buffy lunged for Willow who hurled a chair at her. Buffy knocked it aside as if it were made of lightweight aluminum--which it was, in fact. Willow grabbed a candlestick in each hand and waved them near Buffy�s face and hair. Buffy stepped back.

�Oops! Wouldn�t want to burst into flame, would you?� taunted Willow, but Buffy had already moved in and fearlessly knocked the candles out of her hands. One landed on the volume of notes Willow had spent the evening writing. For a moment, Willow felt sickened to see all of that work crisping and curling in the spreading flame; then she realized that that was the least of her worries. She rolled and tumbled across the floor and hit her head and shoulders against the door of the cage. It was enough to stun her, but only for an instant. Buffy was upon her in the next instant, dragging her to her feet by the throat. Behind Willow, inside the cage, Oz-wolf was thrashing around and growling now. He bounced off of the bars and made them rattle against Willow�s back.

�Thanks,� said Buffy. �I really needed to work up an appetite.�

�No problem,� rasped Willow.

�Still, are you sure you don�t want me to turn you into a vampire? I could still do it. I think you�d make a badass vampire.�

�I doubt it," replied Willow working her arms behind her. "Black leather doesn't suit me.� With that, she turned the key, unlocking the cage. Then, with all of her remaining strength, Willow placed the soles of her sneakers against the bars and launched herself forward. Buffy was only holding her up and was unprepared to prevent Willow's forward motion; Buffy nearly lost her own balance. She let go of Willow for just a moment but went after her almost immediately. She was picking Willow off of the floor when suddenly something sank its teeth into Buffy's left shoulder. She let go of Willow, brought the palm of her right hand across her body and over her left shoulder to meet the snout of Oz-wolf. The werewolf yelped in pain, but the impact of his pounce had been enough to bring Buffy down. Willow just managed to roll out from under them as the vampire and werewolf crashed to the floor, kicking up dust so that it nearly reached the high ceiling. Willow crawled into a corner and watched in amazement as the two creatures rolled across the room like some cartoon catfight. Oz-wolf maintained a grip on Buffy�s shoulder however much she punished him with fists, elbows, knees and feet. �That�s my Oz,� said Willow.

Breaking free at last, Buffy faced off against Oz-wolf, but he fearlessly pounced again and again as Buffy barely managed to keep him at bay. Backing to the mausoleum's entrance, Buffy glanced ruefully in Willow�s direction before opening the door with a foot and swiftly gliding through the narrow aperture. It closed firmly and loudly behind her.

Now Willow realized that she might have escaped the frying pan only to fall into the fire. Oz-wolf turned and glared at her, his eyes like burning coals. He growled and walked across the room. Willow tensed. Oz-wolf went back into his cage and curled up in the middle where he began methodically licking his wounds. Willow wobbled as she climbed to her feet, walked the few steps to the door of his cage and closed it again. Before she would lock it, she went to the mausoleum door and determined that the lock was broken. She spent the rest of the night sitting with the tranquilizer gun in her lap, daring neither to lock the cage nor fall asleep, and praying that Buffy did not return.

THURSDAY, DECEMBER 3. The sun shone on Oz from the grate high up in his cell. His naked body had once again returned to human form. As he stirred, he noticed that his modesty blanket had fallen from its clothesline during the night; assuming that he had brought it down himself in a fit of restlessness, he thought nothing of it. He grabbed his trousers and pulled them on. But before he could don his shirt he noticed Willow sitting against the wall with the tranquilizer gun cradled in her lap. She seemed to be dozing. Her hair hung in a stringy drizzle from her bobbing head. Her clothes were dusty and disheveled. He put his hands on the cage door and was startled when it swung open easily. Then he rushed to Willow�s side.

�Will! Willow, wake up!� he shouted, shaking her left shoulder as he crouched beside her.

Willow�s head snapped up. She looked Oz in the eyes. �Oz! Oh, Oz! Thank God! You�re back!�

�Yeah, Babe, I�m here. But what happened last night?�

Between tears and kisses, Willow told Oz what had transpired. When she was done, Oz looked around the room and saw the charred note pad.

�Oh damn,� said Willow, following his gaze; her lower lip curled into a pout. �That�s my homework. I was going to go to school as soon as they open today and type it into the computer during my free period. Now what am I going to tell Ms. Barton--that a vampire version of Buffy Summers made me burn my homework?�

�You gotta admit,� said Oz, �Ms. Barton�s probably never heard that one before.�

�Oz!�

�What?�

�Oz, we can't go to school today! I have to get the orb and perform the spell with Giles right away. You'll help me, won't you?�

�You know I will.�

Not long after dawn, Spike plodded through the sewer beneath Sunnydale. He could smell the blood of someone familiar; a vampire he knew was up ahead. He rounded a bend and there was Buffy, inspecting a nasty gash on her arm that she hadn't had when he last saw her only hours ago; yet Spike could see that this wound was already healing.

"Well, well," said Spike. "The mighty have fallen on hard times."

"I'm not in the mood, Spike."

"Got a headache, have you."

"Why don't you go somewhere so you can be alone and masturbate?" suggested Buffy.

"Already done that today," he said casually. "Licking your wounds, I see. What did you tangle with, a werewolf?" Buffy shot him a look. "Good guess, eh?"

"Leave it alone, Spike."

"My lucky day," said Faith, startling them both. "Two vamps for the price of one."

"Hello, Slayer," said Buffy rising to her feet. "Sounds strange coming from me, doesn't it?"

"Music to my ears, B. You're just another vamp to me now, and I'll be glad to dust you. So what'll it be? One at a time or both at once?"

"Stay out of this, Spike," Buffy ordered.

"Sure," said Spike. "I don't care."

In the upstairs room she was using at the Summers' home, Willow sat cross-legged on her sleeping bag, her back cushioned by some throw pillows propped against the wall. She first cast stones marked with runes. Then she placed the orb of Thesulah in front of her. Oz knelt beside her, igniting incense and herbs. Giles consulted a leather-bound book embossed in faded gold with a title in Latin.

"Are you ready?" he asked her.

"As I'll ever be," she said lifting the printout of the spell that Jenny Calendar had given her life to translate.

Buffy pitched Faith's body across the tunnel. The Slayer banged her hip against the wall and bumped a knee on the floor, but righted herself immediately.

"That had to hurt," said Buffy.

"No big," said Faith. She advanced toward Buffy with caution, however. Spike sat on a ledge and lit a cigarette.

"Hey, Spike," said Buffy, without taking her eyes off of Faith. "The last time I was down here, I think I overheard the Mayor say something about a gas leak. Do you mind?"

"Oh, sorry," Spike said as he crushed out his smoke.

The orb of Thesulah began to glow as Oz waved smoking incense. Giles intoned, "Quod perditum est, invenietur."

Willow began to read her text:

"Not dead, yet not of the living, Spirits of the interregnum, I call upon thee.

"Gods, bind her. Cast her heart from the evil realm.

"Return to the body that which separates woman from beast."

Suddenly, Willow's eyelids fluttered and her head lolled. Giles watched her carefully, but he met Oz's worried look with an assuring nod and gestured to him to continue waving the smoking herbs and incense. When Willow spoke again, it was in an almost alien voice:

"Nici mort, nici de al fiintei,

"Te invoc, spirit al trecerii.

"Reda trupului ce separa femeia de animal.

"Lasa orbita sa fie vasul care-i va transporta, sufletul ea.

"Te implor, Doamne, nu ignora aceasta rugaminte.

"Asa sa fie. Repede! Acum!

Utrespur aceastui. Repede! Acum!"

At this, the orb of Thesulah brightened like a bulb about to go out and then did.

Faith struggled, but Buffy held her tightly and was about to sink her teeth into her neck. "This has to be a first," said Spike cantering back and forth a few feet from this struggle. "Ex-Slayer-turned-vampire about to bag another Slayer. You gonna turn her or just eat her?"

"What's it to you?" asked Buffy.

"Well, either way, is there any chance I could have a taste?"

Just then, Buffy's eyes glowed as her soul returned. In self-disgust, she let go of Faith and jumped backward. Faith turned and lunged toward Buffy nearly landing a punch. Buffy defended herself but did not counterattack.

"What happened, love?" asked Spike. "I thought you had 'er."

"I'm Buffy," said Buffy to Faith. "The old Buffy."

"Nice try," said Faith. "Off the wall, but, I get it: Psych!"

Buffy looked pleadingly at Faith. "I'm sorry for all of the horrible things I've done, but I couldn't help it. I was a vampire. Well, I guess I still am, but.... I must be like Angel now! Willow did it! She must have returned my soul. You've got to believe me, Faith!"

"I think you need to try a new tactic," suggested Spike. "Clearly, she's not buyin' it."

"Shut up, Spike, or I'll help her slay you!"

"A little too deep in character, aren't we?" said Spike warily.

"Well, here's the thing, B," said Faith. "I don't care! I'm not like you. When Angel got his soul back, you went all soft; you see, I wouldn't have."

"What do you mean I went soft, you idiot?" shouted Buffy. "You don't know anything about it! I sent Angel to HELL! And I'd do it again. It was just that it hurt."

"Well, B, that's my point. Soul or no soul, I don't care, and I'll dust you in a New York minute, without batting an eye!"

"Well, if I can interrupt this pig pile of the cliches," interrupted Spike, "I don't pretend to know who's what here, and I'm leaving." With that, Spike turned and ran, leaving Faith and Buffy to continue their fight. Faith attacked; Buffy parried and retreated, feinted and retreated. Faith aggressively punched and kicked; Buffy fought back but with lessening verve.

Then, with a sweeping kick, Faith took Buffy's legs out from under her. Now Faith sat astride Buffy, pressing a stake downward toward her heart. "Faith, it's me," Buffy said, effort straining in her voice. "It's Buffy." Closer and closer, the point approached Buffy's breast bone.

"Sure," said Faith through gritted teeth. "My old pal, Buffy, was just trying to drain my blood! You vile bitch!"

"Think, Faith: why do you think I stopped?... I'm back.... Something's changed... in me."

"I'll tell you... what's changed," replied Faith. "You're going to hell... where you belong." Spike came up behind Faith and grabbed her, forcing the Slayer to draw back the stake. But the sputtering, fuming, utterly riled Faith, using all of her strength, proved too much for Spike. She managed to free herself from his grip, elbowed him in the groin and neatly jumped up, landing on her feet, stake still in her hand. Meanwhile, Buffy had been able to crawl away from them. Confused, she was slow to rise to her feet.

"Thought you didn't care," said Faith, catching her breath.

"I always reserve the right to change my mind," Spike said.

"That's your prerogative as a woman," said Faith dryly. "Now, I'm going to slay both of you."

"Either help or run," said Spike to Buffy without looking at her.

Sensing her own vulnerability, Buffy backed away, and when she got far enough, she turned and began to run. Behind her she could hear a grunt from Faith followed by a loud blow probably connecting with Spike's body. They could be heard exchanging blows and shouts for a long way down the tunnel. Buffy felt guilty about abandoning one of them to the other, but she could not decide which one.

The last thirty feet as Buffy approached the Summers' front porch seemed like thirty miles. She had waited until dark. During the day, she had found her way through an underground tunnel to Angel�s, but he had not been home. Otherwise she had struggled with unbidden memories of the people she had tortured and killed or, worse, turned into monsters--all of this in less than a week. Now she trudged forward, eyes fixed on the door of the house. Though she felt weak, her knock was firm enough that she immediately heard bustling and voices within. The door opened and her mother stood for a moment as if paralyzed.

"Buffy?" she said in disbelief.

"Hi, Mom."

Suddenly her mother reached out but hesitated. "You're still a vampire, aren't you?� she said, fear etched on her face, but then she gave in to impulse and hugged her daughter.

"It's OK, Mom," said Buffy, burying her face in her mother's hair. "It's really me. I'm back."

"Buffy?" said Willow coming up behind Joyce. Joyce released Buffy and the two schoolmates looked at each other. "It worked?" Willow asked.

"Of course it worked," replied Buffy. "I have a good friend who�s a great witch."

Giles entered the room as Willow and Buffy embraced. He attempted to polish his lenses while he waited his turn, but Joyce went to him, beaming, and took his hand in hers. Buffy noticed but suppressed her reaction, not quite certain what her reaction was or what it should be. Then she embraced Giles. When the hugs were done, Buffy became serious.

�Did Faith ever show up?" she asked.

"No, not yet," said Giles.

"The last I saw her, she was battling Spike, and I have no idea which one survived," Buffy said sheepishly. "I'm not proud of it, but I couldn't stay and protect her."

"I'm sure she can take care of herself," said Giles, but he looked worried.

"Maybe Angel could find her," suggested Buffy. "I went by his place, but no one was home."

"He's been out searching for you, actually," said Giles.

�Then he agreed to watch Oz tonight," said Willow, "just in case--you know, in case the spell didn�t work, and you showed up there again all homicide-y.�

�Does he know about the spell?� Buffy asked.

�Why, yes,� said Giles. �I hope it was all right to tell him, but I thought he needed to know.�

"Of course,� said Buffy, �but we have another problem. Cordelia is still out there, and she�s planning to hit the Bronze tonight to see who she can scare up... so to speak."

Willow sucked her breath in. "My God! Xander is at the Bronze!" she said.

�Death and mayhem all about and the Xan-man is still party boy,� Buffy observed.

�Not quite,� said Giles. �Believe it or not, he�s there on orders from me to see if there is any vampire activity, but I told him quite firmly that he is to report back here immediately if there is anything at all. I told him not to do anything foolish.�

�Not exactly easy instructions for Xander to follow,� said Willow apologetically.

"He may not have much choice. He�s just the guy Cordelia would most love to...." Buffy hesitated, "...see. I'd better get over there."

"I'll go with you," said Giles.

"No," said Buffy. "I've already put all of you in enough danger for one week. Besides, if Cordy sees me coming with any of you, she might get wise and I'd lose the element of surprise."

"She doesn't know you've changed?" asked Giles.

"No."

"But you just got home,� said Joyce. �Do you really have to go out again?�

Buffy hugged her again. �Mom, I'm sorry, but I have to, and what�s more, since I've changed, I�m afraid I�ve become even more of a night person than I used to be.�

"Just be careful, dear.�

�I will.�

Taking a familiar shortcut to the Bronze, Buffy walked through a dark alley. This was not foolhardiness: from now on, the darkest alley in the most dangerous city would be safer than anywhere in the open in Sunnydale. Buffy now had many enemies in both the light and the dark; so she took the most obscure path in order to avoid unnecessary confrontations.

�Hey, B,� called a familiar voice. Faith stepped out from a dark doorway and struck a martial pose. She charged and tried for a kick, but Buffy ducked, parried and delivered a punch.

�Believe it or not, I�m glad to see you survived your fight with Spike,� said Buffy.

�Yeah, I�ll bet you�re even happier that your boyfriend made it, too,� replied Faith.

�He�s not my boyfriend!� shouted Buffy as she blocked a kick from Faith and delivered one of her own.

�Coulda fooled me,� said Faith. �Don't know why else he woulda come back for you.�

�He�s still not my boyfriend!� yelled Buffy as she noticed that, in spite of her soul, she was having difficulty suppressing a primordial vampire urge to kill a Slayer. Out of her fury, she let loose a kick. Faith slid under it and swept Buffy off of her feet. Buffy fell hard and yet bounced back onto her feet in time to get a pummeling from Faith. Then Faith delivered a kick that sent Buffy into a set of garbage cans that crashed about loudly. As Buffy struggled back to her feet and put up her guard, Faith drew a stake from her belt and came toward her. The Slayer began to weave in and out of Buffy�s space, searching for openings.

�Faith, stop!� called Giles as he emerged from the dark behind the Slayer. �You don�t want to do this.�

�I don�t?� asked Faith. �Right. The Council would probably only reward me for killing a vampire, especially one that tried to drink my blood only this morning. They might even let me choose my own watcher. At least that�s what someone told me.�

�You know that Buffy has changed,� said Giles.

�What makes you so sure I do?� asked Faith.

�Because I trust your ability to know such things,� Giles said.

�Why do I need to play by your goody-goody rules?� asked Faith. �Don�t the lives I save every night entitle me to make up my own rules?�

�Very well,� said Giles turning and walking away. �Go ahead and slay her.�

�Hey!� said Buffy, �thanks a lot.�

Ignoring Buffy, Giles continued, �But you know that the creature you�ll be slaying is not the same as the one that tried to kill you this morning. You know she is different.�

He continued to move away, and, in spite of herself, Faith backed away from Buffy and toward him as she said, �Answer me! Why don�t I deserve to decide what�s right? I�m the only one with the strength and skill��

��to fight the vampires and demons and stop their evil,� Giles finished for her. �Being on the side of good means having to play by a set of rules not as easy as the rules the other side plays by. We can�t play by their rules, Faith, or we�ll lose everything that we�re fighting for.

�Look, we can�t destroy someone only because of what they might do. I know you have it in you to cross that line, but you know deep down that as long as Buffy or Angel or any other creature has a soul, they have a potential to do good; as long as they are not against us, we have no right to slay them arbitrarily. We destroy vampires because it is in their natures to do evil�most vampires. You know in your heart that Buffy, now, like Angel, is different.�

�So what if she is different?� asked Faith. �How do you know Buffy or Angel won't turn evil again?�

�I don�t, and if they do, then I�ll be the first to commend you for slaying them--if they turn evil.�

�So what happens now?� asked Faith, near tears of frustration. �I suppose I go back to being Buffy�s shadow.�

�What are you talking about?" asked Buffy. "You aren�t in competition with me anymore. I�m a vampire. Remember? You are the Slayer now.�

�Someday perhaps both of you will realize that you were never in competition--or never had to be, anyway.� With these words, Giles came close enough to touch Faith. �There are more than enough vampires in the world for more than two slayers. But Buffy is right, Faith. You are the one and only Slayer now. And if you will have me, my offer to be your watcher still stands.�

Faith looked up at Giles. She was palpably struggling within herself as if compelled by conflicting urges to throw her arms around him, escape him or--failing that--rip his throat out. She finally hugged him so hard that something in his body cracked noisily. �Sorry,� she said loosening her grip.

�Not at all,� he said. �If anything, I feel better now. Perhaps you have a dual career ahead of you: Slayer by night, chiropractor by day.� Faith laughed through her tears. �Do you mind if I have a brief word with Buffy?� he asked.

Go ahead,� she replied. �Take your time.�

�That was some speech,� Buffy said as Giles approached her.

�Thank you,� said Giles. �The pitty is that tomorrow I wont be able to recall a word of it.�

It was Buffy�s turned to laugh as she wondered where this newfound sense of humor had come from�or had it always been there? �I wanted to apologize for that dirty old man crack last night,� she said.

�Don�t worry about it,� he advised.

�I don�t know where that came from,� Buffy said.

�Really, don�t worry about it. There is always sexual tension between people who live or work closely together. I believe that you and I always had just enough emotional maturity to understand that the affection between us was based on respect and, I think, on my part at least, admiration. Vampire Buffy, on the other hand, could never understand not acting on every impulse in the most perverse way. She-she couldn�t understand what you and I had�what she still remembered--so she sexualized it.� He half turned toward Faith but thought better of it. �Thank you for reminding me, though, because I fear I will need to be on my guard more with her than I was with you. I suspect that she may be less able to tell the difference between a gesture of affection and a violation.�

�Good luck,� said Buffy.

�Thank you,� he said.

�You�ll need it.� Whey they hugged then, Buffy realized that, even though they might see each other in the future, this was a kind of goodbye.

Giles turned and walked to where Faith stood waiting for him.

"By the way,� said Buffy.

He turned back toward her. �Yes?�

�The admiration? It�s mutual,� said Buffy. Giles smiled and turned back toward Faith. He placed a hand cautiously on her shoulder and guided her away. �Hey, Giles,� added Buffy. �Didn�t I tell you not to follow me?�

�Fortunately,� said Giles, neither stopping nor turning around this time, �I am not your watcher anymore; so I don�t have to follow your orders.�

�Does that mean you have to follow mine?� asked Faith.

�No,� said Giles firmly.

The Bronze was enveloped in the seductive, rhythmic patter of a drum. Over the thump of the base, rapidly tickled strings hypnotically joined in with a steady rhythm that transformed into a tune. The bouncy music was distinctly Middle Eastern, driving yet playful. Center stage, a dark-haired woman stood in a golden, tassle-adorned belly-dancing costume, swaying and luxuriantly crying in song. Xander saw the pleading of her gestures and looks and heard the painful yearning as she variously drew out the syllables of the same short words: singing them over and over, yet making them fresh each time. Without knowing any Arabic, he understood that she was pleading with her lost love to come back to her.

Xander sat alone in a cushioned chair next to a table that primarily served the adjacent couch, which held a cheery threesome�a girl sandwiched between two boys. Both males seemed to be interested in her, and she basked in the attention, showing no favoritism so far as Xander could tell. Then again, he was not paying that much attention to them; rather, he was nursing his own yearning and a coffee set precariously on his end of the little table.

The singer seemed to take turns with the instruments: now part of the rhythm, now back to carrying the melody; her voice wove around and around the strings and drum. A dozen people were on the dance floor. They swayed, seduced by the hypnotic music: the drums and strings as well as the voice of the singer who, according to the sign on the board outside of the Bronze, was named Natacha Atlas.

Xander gazed almost incuriously at the dancing couples until he noticed the familiar form of Cordelia Chase, dancing alone. She undulated seductively and swayed with an unearthly fluidness. A nearby couple left the floor abruptly when the girl caught her partner ogling Cordelia. Another youth approached and began to dance closer and closer to Cordelia, orbiting her body like a planet around a star. At first, with eyes closed, Cordelia seemed to ignore him. She raised her hands high above her head, put her palms together, dipped slightly and opened her eyes, looking directly at the boy.

Xander could hardly believe that Cordelia was here�so vividly present�and flirting with another guy. The crowd was caught up in the fevered beat and haunting plaint, as Atlas approached a climactic intensity; Cordelia's new partner was caught up in a fever more intense than that of those about him. Xander's mouth opened as he watched Cordelia glide up to her dance partner and turn her body in a full-contact pirouette. The fellow got an extended feel of her body--all around--against his. Cordelia took his hand and swung under his extended arm just as Atlas and her band ended their song with the sound of a gong. Cordelia smiled radiantly at her partner, and he smiled too as she backed toward the door, drawing him with her. Xander noted with awe that she never seemed to look where she was going. He thought that Cordelia must either have eyes in the back of her head or else somehow was making the crowd part so that she never had to take her eyes from her victim. When she had nearly lured the boy out of the door, Xander suddenly realized that he was witnessing not simply Cordelia's betrayal of Xander, but her intended murder of her partner. Without stopping to ask himself how he could stop it, he followed them out of the club.

By the time he had elbowed through the crowd and out onto the street, Xander could no longer see Cordelia or her would-be boy-snack. He anxiously looked up and down the street; then he listened keenly and heard the rattle of a storm fence and a single yelp--both of which came from the alley around the corner.

Dashing to the scene, he arrived just in time to see a game-faced Cordelia finish draining her victim who then slid down the fence into a limp sitting position. Cordelia looked at Xander slyly as blood dribbled from the corners of her mouth. With two flicks of her tongue she cleaned each corner.

"I thought you might follow us," said Cordelia, shaking off her game face.

Xander hesitated. Tears welled up in his eyes as he looked from Cordelia to the body at her feet.

�Aww,� she said. �Why the tears? Happy to see me?�

"It�s 'cause, even though I know you aren't Cordelia anymore,� he said, �I can't help seeing her in you."

"Well, excuse me, but from my point of view, I'm better off this way than I was as that clueless victim."

"I just can't stand losing you this way," said Xander.

"Oh, there's some better way you'd rather lose me?"

"Maybe any other way. No. That's not true." Xander mused, seeming to forget where he was. Then his eyes fell again on the body leaning against the storm fence. "I can't say I enjoyed seeing you giving that poor guy a vertical lap dance."

"Aw, come on and admit it: it turned you on just a little, right?" she said in a sultry voice.

"What are you talking about?" he asked.

Cordelia put her game face back on. "You didn't just follow me out to be all loserish and moralistic, did you? I think you came along because you knew that once I did this guy I would be too sated to simply eat you. I might consider turning you into a vampire, too."

"You're insane!"

"Am I? Whatever. The fact is, now that we're here alone, I'm not going to just let you walk away. But the good news is that you were right: I am inclined to make you one of me. If we can just get rid of that goofy human 'tude, you might just make a decent boy-toy. You'd like being a boy-toy wouldn't you? It�d sure be a step up from the usual self-abuse." Cordelia advanced as Xander backed away. "Now, now, Nighthawk," she said, mocking the heroic-sounding codename Xander had adopted the previous summer. "You haven't got a chance of getting away or�don't make me laugh--of slaying me." She suddenly looked at something over Xander's shoulder. "Make that zero chance of surviving at all if Buffy's hungry."

Xander wheeled about to see Buffy approaching them rapidly. "Oh, my God!" he cried in despair.

In the next instant, Buffy was upon them and delivered a flying kick to Cordelia's head. Xander was able to step out of the way; afterward, though he considered running for his life, his legs would not move any further. His eyes were fixed on the battle before him.

Buffy tried not to let Cordelia recover from the kick; she pummelled Cordelia with punches and more kicks, but Cordelia rolled out of the way and took Buffy down with a kick. Both vampiresses popped back up and then squared off.

"Forget it," said Cordelia. "I have dibs on Xander, and whatever you've got planned, I'm turning him."

"Not if I can help it," replied Bufly.

"Oh, give me a break! Buffy has to get all the guys in death as in life? I think not!" Cordelia threw a kick followed by a punch. Both connected and Buffy stumbled. As Cordelia moved in to deliver more punishing blows, Buffy recovered and struck back.

Her counterattack did not last, however. Cordelia quickly regained the upper hand and bashed Buffy twice with a handy length of rebar. When this brought Buffy to her knees, Cordelia flung aside the rebar and kicked Buffy's head, sending her sprawling backward. Cordelia looked around until her eye's fixed on what she was looking for: a wooden lath lying broken in the gutter six feet to Xander's left. She went toward it, only stopping long enough by Xander to acknowledge him with the words: "Don't go too far, lover." Suddenly, Xander brought the rebar up from where he had hidden it at his side. Cordelia walked right into it. The rebar sank into her mid-section and came out of her back. She stopped and looked down in disbelief. She then looked at Xander and, with a flash of fury in her eyes, backhanded him so hard that his feet left the ground. He crashed against the storm fence and was knocked unconscious. He slid down the fence and settled next to Cordelia's earlier victim.

Buffy came at Cordelia from behind, but Cordelia turned around quickly, just in time to hit Buffy in the side with the rebar that still stuck out of her. Buffy went down but rolled into the gutter. In a split second she saw and grabbed the lath. She was on her feet an instant later, the stake in her raised right hand.

Cordelia, with obvious pain etched on her face, pulled the rebar out, held it before her like a two-handed sword, and glared at her adversary. �Seeing you with a stake in your hand brings back memories," said Cordelia bitterly.

"It's all coming back to me like you wouldn't believe," replied Buffy.

Cordelia looked determined, but then, in the next moment, looked woozy. "You trying to tell me you've switched sides�again?"

"Yeah, well, you know that little business about the Orb of Thesulah?� said Buffy. �I kinda failed to stop that."

"Bummer. So you have your soul again?" asked Cordelia. Buffy did not reply but only shifted her stance. "Oh, the hell with it," Cordelia said. Throwing aside the rebar, she turned and ran away, barely pausing long enough to say. "Do whatever you want with Xander."

Buffy started to follow, but pain made her stop and put a hand to her side where she felt a tenderness that suggested broken ribs. A few feet away, Xander moaned. Buffy went over to him, knelt and put a hand on his shoulder. "Are you all right?" she asked.

Xander looked up with groggy eyes for a long, silent moment before he recognized her. "Ahhh!" he cried as he jerked his shoulder out of her grasp. Eyes wide with fear, he desperately searched about him with his hands, for what Buffy could only guess. He felt the body of the boy next to him and recoiled. Then he crossed his index fingers and held them up between himself and Buffy. "Get back, fiend!" he yelled.

"Xander, don�t be afraid."

"You just won the right to make me your boy-toy before you drain me dry!"

�Huh?� said Buffy. "No, look, Xander, it's me, Buffy. Well, not the completely human Buffy, but I've got my soul back. Willow's spell worked.�

"It did? Buffy? It's really you?"

"It's really me, Xander."

One of Xander's hands approached her tentatively, resting lightly on her shoulder as she put her hands on his shoulders. He hesitated, but finally said, "Oh, what the hell," before embracing her.

In the distance, police sirens grew in Doppler intensity. "Let's get you back to Robello Drive,� Buffy suggested. At first, Xander just sat and shivered, but once Buffy helped him to his feet, it was not difficult to persuade him to leave.

FRIDAY, DECEMBER 4. Soon after dawn, Oz came to Willow after his second night in the mausoleum. Without a word, they sat down on the sleeping bag in her room. It hadn�t been slept in by anyone. "I'd suggest getting more comfortable furniture in here," said Oz at last, "but I suppose you�ll move back home today."

"That's what I mean to do," said Willow, grateful for something to say that did not touch on the confession she wanted to make--did not really want to make.

�You feeling guilty about blowing off school yesterday?� Oz asked.

�Surprisingly, not so much,� said Willow. �I guess I knew that I blew it off for a good cause, even if no one would ever believe me.�

�Well, you got the better deal,� said Oz. �I got there by second period, and everyone had already gone home because of Snyder�s death.�

�Any tears?� asked Willow. She knew about Snyder�s murder�and that Buffy and Cordelia were responsible, but it had never occurred to her that school might be cancelled because of it.

�Not really,� allowed Oz. �Maybe a gasp or two.�

�It�s the only time Snyder�s ever made Sunnydale High�s student body happy, isn�t it?�

�Pretty much,� said Oz. Then he added: "As soon as you've packed up, I'll give you a ride home."

"Oz, there's something I have to confess. About Xander. And me."

"Oh?" said Oz.

"We've kinda been playin' footsie lately."

Oz looked puzzled. "I'm gonna go out on a limb here, and say, 'uh huh'."

"Nothing�s happened," she assured him hurriedly, "but it's been weird. There have been times when we almost kissed, I think, and-and there's been touching, you know, not like when we were just old friends, not-not..."

"Innocent?" Oz filled in.

"Yeah," said Willow. She wanted to say more, but, at the moment, she could not remember what she had wanted to say, or the order in which she had wanted to say it.

"So, are you saying you want to break up with me and go out with Xander?" Oz asked.

"Oh, God! No, Oz, I don't. In fact, I�m pretty sure--no, I'm completely sure it's over between Xander and me. Well, I admit the whole thing with Cordy turning into a vampire had something to do with it. That made it easier; not easy in a bad sense but in a good sense. Anyway, it is over, and, really, I don't think anything was ever going to happen anyway."

"Then why did you have to tell me about it?" asked Oz.

"I don't know, I guess because it was making me feel so guilty."

"Maybe you aren't happy with me," he said.

"But I am," she said. "It's just that... sometimes I don't know whether you're really happy with me."

"How come?"

"Because--and this�ll probably sound corny and, even, maybe, too demanding but-but you've always been such a gentleman that--I don't know if you ever want to go to another level and...."

"You're wondering whether I'm interested in you sexually," he suggested. Willow just looked at him, relieved that he had said it. "Look," he continued, "I'm just waiting for the time to be right--for you to be sure that you're ready. For us to be sure."

"How do we know when that is?"

"I just think that we'll know."

"Does this mean you forgive me?"

"Well, since nothing happened, I guess--from my point of view--there�s nothing to forgive," he said, "but if it makes you feel better, I forgive you."

"Oh, thanks, Oz. And you�re right. Nothing happened and nothing would have happened," she said. "I'm sure of it."

Joyce and Giles sat on the Summers' couch. Their fingers flirted but they couldn't quite bring themselves to hold hands.

"How can she be a vampire Slayer and a vampire, too?" Joyce asked. "I feel like a parent must feel when her daughter turns out not only to be Goth but into S&M as well--and it would be a huge favor if you forgot I ever said that.�

�Done,� said Giles.

"Oh, my God!� said Joyce. �Will she be able to stay in Sunnydale? Does she have to leave town now?"

Giles thought carefully. "I don't know whether or not it will come to that, but it might. In the foreseeable future, however, I am hoping she will stay to help us avert an impending crisis. I know that Buffy tries to protect you from the things we deal with, but we have a rather dangerous opponent at present, and we're going to need all of the help we can get to defeat him. That includes Faith and Angel--and Buffy, if she is willing to stay."

"Then what?"

"Beyond that, you will have to ask her, Joyce, because I don't know."

"Aren�t you still her watcher?"

"I'm afraid not. The Council rather frowns on watchers mentoring vampires�even ones with souls. Besides, she doesn't need me any more. It might seem redundant to say that Buffy has grown up too fast, but I�m afraid that every vestige of her innocence has gone completely now."

"Then, my daughter really is lost to me."

"Not lost, because I am sure she still needs you in the way that grown children always continue to need their parents."

"She doesn't need you any more, either, does she, Rupert?"

"No."

"What will you do?"

"I�m to be Faith's watcher now."

"Faith," Joyce said thoughtfully. "Do you think she might want to come live with me, if Buffy can't live here anymore?"

"Do-do you think you're ready to take on parenting another teenager?"

"Do you think I shouldn't?"

"Well, it would be a great help to me if you would, but I must warn you: if you thought that rearing Buffy was difficult, you'll find that Faith is more than a challenge."

"We'll just have to see about that," said Joyce. She interlaced her fingers with Giles', and they leaned against each other.

Buffy and Angel leaned against the couch by the fireplace at his mansion. They stared into the flames for a long time before Buffy spoke. "This is so majorly strange," she said.

"Name something that isn't strange about all of this," said Angel.

"I meant being a vampire."

"That's a big one."

Did I ever tell you it was the thing that I feared most?"

"You once told me that," he said. "Now it's happened."

"Not only happened," she said. �I�ve gone through it and come out the other side, kinda. But, then, you've been there, done that."

"More times than I care to remember."

"Remembering is the hard part," said Buffy. "Not just remembering what I did as Buffy the Vampire, but remembering my old life as the Slayer. When I had that, I didn't want it. Now I can't go back to it even though I'd love to."

"You could still live with your mom," Angel suggested. "Maybe she could fix up a coffin for you in the basement."

"Don't kid around," said Buffy, slugging his arm.

"Sorry, but why couldn't you stay in touch with your mom?"

"Could I?" she almost pleaded. "When I'll never know when I might become evil again and turn on the very people I love?"

"You can't live like that," said Angel, shaking his head. "Take it from me: what-ifs are a waste of time."

"And what's going to happen to us, Angel?" she asked. "Do we dare keep on seeing each other even though the next time we can't control our feelings could mean we both turn evil at once? What happens to my family and friends then?"

"Definitely wouldn't be a good idea for us to live together," he said. "That's for sure." He looked back at the fire. "We have to stay and defeat the Mayor, but, after that, it might be a good idea for one of us to leave town."

"Maybe we should both leave," she said. Because his head was turned, Buffy could not see the tear running down his cheek. "We should go to separate corners of the earth so that neither of us ever knows where the other is," she added, her own tears flowing.

Mayor Wilkins sat in one of the chairs in front of his desk, making notes on a pad. Allan Finch sat in the other, consulting a few stapled leaves of paper. Finch was saying: �I am afraid there is a short list of available candidates to replace Principal Snyder. There wasn't much notice."

"Yes," said Wilkins. "Darned inconsiderate of him to invite vampires into his apartment at a time like this."

Finch never knew how to react when the Mayor made such off-hand remarks, so he plunged on. "There is one candidate who looks very good: his name is Robin Wood."

"Nah," said Wilkins, "he's too young. Maybe after a bit more seasoning, hmm?"

�Well, we do need an assistant principal,� said Finch. �Perhaps we should consider Wood for that position.�

�I don�t know,� said the Mayor, �although that might be worth considering. Tell you what: I�ll pick the new principal, and you can pick the vice-principal.�

�Me, sir? But what about the school board?�

�That�s why we�re discussing it, Allan. In my town, my office makes the recommendation, and the school board rubber-stamps it. No, you choose, and I�ll sign off on it.� There was a knock at the door. "Who could that be at this hour? Be a good fellow, Allan, and answer it for me."

Finch looked frightened at the thought of who might be knocking this time; nevertheless, he crossed the room and opened the door. He blanched and stumbled backward: Cordelia Chase stood on the threshold. Wilkins got up and walked to the door, gently elbowing his paralyzed deputy to one side. He smiled.

�What can I do for you, Miss?� he asked.

"You can invite me in. I understand you�ve got a vacancy for head henchperson or whatever," said Cordelia.

Wilkins smiled and graciously stepped aside. "Come on in," he said.