In the bowels of the winding cave tunnels and sewers below Sunnydale, Darla walked slowly through the darkness, trying to ignore the pungent smell of the sewage around her. It was deeply annoying to have to deal with the smell of the stuff, but she couldn't fault her Sire's chosing of the location otherwise. Underground was safe. Away from sunlight, away from hunters. Even Angelus wasn't as brazen to enter the sewers.

She reached a large cave. Candelebra stood around the cave, providing dim light to the tortured remains of a church, and illuminating a tall dark form in the shadows.

The light was kind to the grotesque Master, and did not show what the ravages of corrupted power and enprisonment had wrought upon him. Darla smiled darkly as she knelt before him.

"Darla. My favored child." One malformed hand touched her hair. "What have you to tell us?" The ever-present minions in the shadows hissed, glowing eyes opening to focus upon her.

"Angelus still hunts us." she reported, head bowed, looking up through her eyelashes. "The blood fever has mostly passed, as you anticipated."

"Pity. It could have served us so well."

"It has. He's picked up a pet, it seems."

"A pet?" The Master sounded fascinated. "Do tell."

"A blonde high school girl." Darla reported. "Naive, but brave. She came close to breaking his control. If we could exploit her..."

"Indeed." The Master sounded thoughtful. "Watch them for now. Tell me everything."

The blood fever had abated within a week, and the weakness passed a few days after that. Now that he knew to look for her, Angel was aware of Buffy trailing him. The few times they spoke, he tried to warn her off, but she was far too stubborn for her own good.

She trailed him behind trees and crypts as he hunted in the graveyards, and watched him from tables when he entered the Bronze. She snuck out of her house to watch him prowl through the industrial sector of Sunnydale.

And this time she came prepared, with holy water in bottles, a cross around her neck, and a carefully carved stake hidden in a pocket of her pants or a coat. She managed to kill a vampire or two, and earned a furious scolding from Angel that didn't do anything to convince her not to follow him.

One night, as he was hunting in another graveyard, he came across her waiting on the roof of a crypt, legs dangling over the side as she watched him intently. He turned and looked at her. She returned his stare levelly, a bit of rebellion in her eyes.

His eyes narrowed and he turned away, walking in the other direction.

She climbed down and followed him.

Finally, one night, another group got the idea to ambush him. But this time, they went for Buffy first.

She did admirably well, although her cross was probably the only thing that kept her from being bitten. The first vampire bent to bite her, but leapt back a second later, the burnt outline of the cross she wore seared into his flesh. Buffy uncorked her holy water, and hit him square in the eyes with it. Then she staked him.

Angel grabbed the other two, banged their heads together, then whirled. Both vampires went flying. One was impaled upon the broken branch of a tree, and dissolved into dust. The second hit a gravestone hard. Dazed, but not out of the game, he staggered up as Angel went for his companion.

The battle was relatively short. Angel killed four of the vampires. The rest fled.

Buffy sat up from the grass. He turned around, strode over to her, and yanked her to her feet.

"Why?" he hissed at her, not bothering to get rid of his game face. He was vaguely gratified to see her flinch. "Can't you see? You could have been killed!"

"A-Angel..."

He was enraged, though, and shook her hard. He heard her teeth rattle. "Why! Why are you following me? This isn't some teenage dream. I'm not your Romeo, I'm not your boyfriend, I'm not your lover."

"I DON'T KNOW!" she screamed.

He held her still, hands on her arms, and stared at her as she looked up into his face, eyes wide. "You..." he started, then fell silent when she looked down and began to speak.

"You're everywhere." she whispered. "You're in my dreams, you're in my mind, in my blood. I think about you all the time, but I don't know /why/. I can't stop following you. You're..."

He closed his eyes. "Go." he said hoarsely. "Get over this, go home before it's too late. Get out of this world before it destroys you. You're human. I'm not worth this."

She shook her head wordlessly. "I can't."

"You fool." he murmured, and hugged her close, resting his chin on her head. Her arms went around him hesitantly. They stood there for a few moments, then he stepped back, out of her arms.

"Go home." he pleaded softly, then turned and walked away.

Once he was out of sight, Buffy turned to leave. She gasped. Darla stood behind her.

"Hello." the blonde vampiress murmured. "I thought we'd have a little chat."