It's All In the Timing

by Chrissy

FEEDBACK: It's appreciated, unless you want to flame me, which most definitely is NOT.
DISCLAIMER: Joss is God, Joss is King, Joss our Lord owns everything...
SPOILERS: Up to "Into the Woods", 'cept Joyce doesn't have cancer, I don't think Dawn ever existed... you know what, it's been so long since I wrote "It Lives In Me" that I can't remember. Whatever the spoilers were for that, they apply here too. This fanfic takes off maybe a coupla minutes after where "It Lives In Me" stopped.
RATING: PG
SUMMARY: How come Buffy began to remember her & Angel's lost day in "It Lives In Me"? I don't think this will ever blatantly tell you, but it offers a subtle answer if you read carefully. Anyhow, Ethan Rayne's back in town. He's still... well, Ethan. A.k.a. Bad-Guy-w/-attitute-problem. Just sit back and watch the destruction and mayhem unfold...
AUTHOR'S NOTE: (1) Just a quickie, if you want "It Lives In Me", just email me. I'll send it to you. (Warning: it is kinda long.) You don't *really* need it to get this fanfic, but I think it'd help a little. (2) For the people that did read "It Lives In Me": It's been awhile since I wrote that fanfic. I wrote this one on paper with purple, pink and blue pens while I was on vacation. Therefore, some of the details may be a little wrong. Some things may not line up. Sorry!!! (3) In part of this story, there is some German conversation, store signs, etc. If you speak German: entschuldigung! Mein Deutsch ist nicht so gut!

PART ONE

Buffy wandered aimlessly throughout the streets of Sunnydale. She didn't know where she was going, and couldn't even guaruntee that she'd know when she got there.

All she knew was that what Angel had told her... he hadn't dropped a bombshell. No, Angel had dropped a nuclear missile.

'A whole day as human...' Buffy shivered, no longer able to surpress the raw emotion that his declaration had thrust upon her.

She found herself nearing the Bronze. Usually, that realization would have started a tidal wave of nostalgia. But not today.

Everything else paled in comparison.

Why had he told her? Part of her was screaming to know the answer to that. The Powers-That-Be had erased the day, and her memory, deliberately, to ensure that she'd be able to get on with her life. Why had Angel spoiled that... that... that beautiful lie?

'But that day... wasn't it even more beautiful?'

She realized she'd been standing stock-still, and forced her feet to move ahead. She needed to move on. And not just physically.

Buffy awandered on, her gait slow and unhurried.

'It's not about getting there...'

Someone had told her that once. Who was it? She tried to remember, although some small voice inside of her insisted she didn't want to. Of course, that only made her wonder more.

Buffy found herself on Main Street, wandering past the Espresso Pump, the office supply warehouse, the hardware store... Of course, none of them were open. Anybody in their right mind in Sunnydale knew better than to stay open after dark. The street was deserted. Utterly and totally. Except... was that... was that a person up ahead?

Buffy stared curiously at the dark figure. In her aggravated state, her Slayer senses, and even her basic run-of-the-mill common sense didn't kick in. It never occured to her that the figure walking busily, hunched carefully over the lock on the door of the Magic Box might be any kind of threat, human or not. Buffy just saw it as another lonely figure, another being all alone in the night.

On a hunch, she moved forward, cautiously, yet curiously, trying to see who it was.

Spike hurried around the corner just in time to see Buffy approach the figure in black. He could sense from the creature's posture, from its clothing, from its very presence, that it was not someone who should be there. And Buffy was walking straight for it, caution thrown to the wind.

With an animalistic roar, he charged down the street.

Buffy and the person picking the lock to Giles' store looked up simultaneously. Buffy gasped when she realized who it was.

Ethan Rayne stared back at Buffy, equally surprised, but a little bit more nervous.

Any further thought was cut off by Spike, who lunged across the sidewalk, tackling Rayne.

Buffy blinked, surprised. Then, her situation beginning to sink in, she shook it off and bent to help Spike restrain their prisoner.

"Ethan Rayne," she commented dryly. "I should've known you wouldn't stay away from Sunnydale for very long."

"Oh, Buffy my dear, did you miss me?" Ethan asked mischievously, struggling against the Slayer and vampire.

"Give it up," Buffy advised.

He did for a moment, enough so that Spike and Buffy both relaxed.

And that was all that Ethan needed. He managed to fling the other two off of him, and ran down the street without another word.

Buffy felt herself flying through the air. She could feel tiny knives cutting all through her body, and her head crashed into something.

Everything went black.

PART TWO

Angel stood in Buffy's living room. He paced slowly back and forth.

Why had he told her? It really all came down to that. She wasn't ready to know. Hell, she'd never be ready to know. That happy, now non-existant day the previous November... it wasn't just Angel's dreams that had been shattered. Buffy's had, too.

'The difference,' Angel reminded himself, 'is that she never had to know that... until now. God, what was I thinking?'

His head shot up as he heard a crashing noise at the front door.

Angel ran to the door to investigate.

He stopped short at the scene that greeted him. Buffy lay unconscious across the doorway. Spike was kneeling at her feet, shoving her inside. When he saw Angel, he frowned, and then grinned sheepishly.

"I ain't as strong as you are, mate," he explained.

Angel rushed to Buffy's side and gathered her in his arms. He carried her inside and gently laid her down on the couch. Then he turned to Spike.

"What happened?" Angel demanded angrily, getting into Spike's face. "What did you do to her?"

Spike ducked away from the other vampire. "I didn't do anything. One of her pals is back in town. Ethan Rayne. He sent her flying through the window of the librarian's store."

"Ethan Rayne?" Angel asked incredulously. "Sorry, Spike, you're gonna have to do better than that. I know Rayne. He's human. Humans don't send the Slayer flying through a store -- the librarian... wait a minute, Giles has a *store*?"

Spike chuckled, clearly enjoying himself. "Man, you're really out of things around here, aren't you?"

"Spike," Angel warned.

Spike's grin disappeared, and he sighed. "Yes, Giles owns a store. A magic store. It's called The Magic Box. It's on Main. We all caught up now?"

Buffy's groan saved Angel from answering. Both vampires were immediately at her side.

"Ugh," she muttered, sitting up slowly, her hand on the back of her head.

"Easy," Angel advised. Buffy frowned, unwilling to take orders from him, but Angel gently pushed her back down, and she found herself willingly falling back. It hurt tremendously to sit up. Lying down was much easier... in fact, she could just go back to sleep...

"Whoa!" Angel exclaimed, seeing Buffy's eyes begin to close. "No, come on, Buffy, you've got to stay awake!"

"Aw, what's the big deal?" Spike complained. "She's tired. Let her sleep."

Angel turned angrily to his -- however unwilling -- counterpart. "Are you completely dense? I think she may have a concussion. She goes back to sleep, she may never wake up!"

Spike's eyes widened at that. Quickly he turned back to Buffy and began to tap her cheek.

"Come on, Buffy! Wake up!" Spike commanded.

Her eyes fluttered open. "Oh. Did I fall asleep? Sorry. Where were we?" She yawned sleepily.

Angel pulled Buffy to her feet. "Come on. We need to get you to the hospital."

Buffy's eyes widened. "No! No hospital! I'm fine! See?" She shoved Angel away from her and tried to walk away. Dizzy, she stumbled clumsily into several items of furniture. Spike caught her before she hit the floor.

"Whoopsy-daisy," he said gently, pulling her to her feet. Buffy allowed him to help her, and then clung to him when she stood.

"Come on. You need to get that head checked out," Spike told her worriedly.

Buffy paused stubbornly for a moment, but finally nodded. "Okay," she said simply.

Angel watched the whole exchange open-mouthed. God, she really trusted him! And... well... it was kind of obvious how she felt about Angel. That realization made his other even more startling.

"Are we going?" Buffy demanded sullenly, her arms wrapped around Spike's neck.

Angel nodded, speechless. Silently, he headed out the door to his car, leaving Spike to help Buffy.

"What's his problem?" Spike muttered rhetorically, as he and Buffy stumbled after.

Buffy didn't, couldn't, say a thing.

PART THREE

"How is she?" Giles asked anxiously, running down the hallway of the hospital. Willow and Tara tagged behind, hurrying to catch up.

"Not good," Angel said grimly. He swallowed. "We brought her here quick as we could... she was unconscious when Spike brought her to the house... she woke up, but she was back out by the time we got here. I couldn't... we couldn't get her to wake back up." Angel hung his head, ashamed of what he saw as yet another personnal failure.

Giles looked as though he were blinking back tears, which, in fact, he was. But his sadness, his despair, quickly settled into a cold rage.

"Who did this?" he asked quietly.

Now it was Angel's turn to look vengeful. "Spike, why don't you tell them what you told me?" he called over his shoulder.

Spike walked over to the group, his usual animosity set aside in his worry. "Same guy who turned you into a Fyral demon, if I recall correctly," he snorted.

Giles' eyes widened. "You... Ethan...! In *Sunnydale*?!" he spluttered. "But... the Initiative... they *contained* him...!"

Willow paled. "Oh my God! Giles -- the Initiative shut down last spring... they would have to either kill or set free anybody they were holding..."

"And they must have set your boy free," Spike finished.

"The... who's Ethan?" Tara asked, confused.

"Ethan Rayne," Willow said quickly. "We have... kind of... a history with him. I'll explain it all later."

"The Initiative had Ethan Rayne as a prisoner?" Angel asked, confused. "How did that happen? I mean... he's still human, right?"

"Oh, yes," Giles said bitterly. "But he turned me into a demon. Riley arranged for the Initiative to rehabilitate him... got him out of our hair for awhile, but apparently not long enough."

Angel sighed. "Apparently."

"Have you talked to the doctors yet?" Willow asked anxiously, bringing the conversation back to their wounded friend.

Angel sank down into one of the stiff hospital chairs. His head fell into his hands, and he shook his head, not trusting his voice.

"Was she... how was she when..." Willow's voice trembled, and finally broke.

"It's bad," Angel whispered.

Willow's hand rose to her mouth. Somehow, seeing Angel this way... it made his mind-numbing news sink in, however slightly.

However slightly, it was still horrible.

Spike surprised them all by taking the tear-stained red-head into his arms.

"Shhh," he whispered, stroking her hair.

Willow jerked away at first, but finally just sobbed into him. No matter how much... but this wasn't about Spike, or her... disdain for him. It was about Buffy. Buffy, who could very well be hovering on the brink of death, for all the Scooby Gang knew.

Finally Willow stood up. "We... we should tell Xander," she sniffed, wiping her eyes.

"Xander?" Giles looked confused for a moment.

"He's still in the psycho-ward." Willow laughed slightly. "Suicide-watch, remember?"

Giles sighed. "Oh. Right."

Tara placed a comforting hand on Willow's shoulder and squeezed gently. Willow turned and gave her a thankful look. Then she turned back to Giles and Spike. "I'd better go," she said quietly. Giles nodded sadly, and Willow looked at him with understanding.

"I'll be back in a minute," she said softly. Then she turned away and headed for the elevator bank.

"I'm going to go with her," Tara said quickly. She ran after Willow.

"Yes... well..." Giles removed his glasses and began rigorously cleaning them. When he was assured that the non-existant dirt on them was gone, he put them back on.

"I'm going to go get something to drink," Spike said suddenly.

Giles and Angel both looked up in alarm.

"Coffee," Spike said, rolling his eyes. He, too, disappeared down the hallway.

Giles was left alone with Angel.

"This is all my fault," Angel heard himself whisper.

Giles glanced at Angel, only mildly suprised. "Uh... Angel, it's only natural that you would blame yourself, but... why? Why do you blame yourself, I mean. You weren't even with her when she was attacked, so--"

"Yeah, but what if... what if I could've prevented her going out at all?" Angel asked miserably. "If I hadn't told her, she never would have left the house. She wouldn't have stopped Ethan from getting his hands on whatever it is he wanted from your store, but--"

"My store?" Giles interrupted. "Is that where all of this happ-- oh dear God," he said, relization sinking in.

"What?" Angel asked wearily. "You only say that when something bad's about to happen. So what is it this time? Apocalypse? War? Hell on Earth?" His voice held a bitter ring that it had never possessed before.

Giles didn't notice. "I have to go," he said, snatching up his coat.

Angel barely noticed his departure. Throughout their conversation, he had felt a series of chills go through him. A cold feeling... he'd felt even colder than usual. Now it was like a sudden blow to the stomach... and the feeling stayed... a solid chunk of frigid ice settling in the pit of his stomach.

PART FOUR

"Xander?" Willow called timidly, tapping gently on his door.

Xander and Anya both looked up, and Xander's face broke into a wide grin.

"Wil! Hey!" he exclaimed.

"Hey, Xander," she said, smiling weakly. "How are you doing?"

"Oh, I'm fine," Xander said nonchalantly. "I mean, it's not like I'm crazy. Well, I mean, I didn't come in crazy, but if they don't let me out soon, I--"

"I wanted to tell you that Buffy's downstairs," Willow interrupted.

Xander's grin faded. "What? Downstairs, like the emergency room?"

Willow nodded, once again struggling to hold back tears. "Yeah."

"What happened?" Xander asked.

"Is she okay?" asked Anya.

Willow shook her head. "No. I... I don't know very much... Spike and Angel brought her in... they said Ethan Rayne attacked her. And, and Angel thinks she has a concussion... and she fell asleep or something on the way in." Willow found herself unable to hold back the tears any longer. "Xander, they couldn't get her to wake up," she choked.

"Oh, God," Xander said. He sat back for a moment, thinking. "Willow... help me out of these," he ordered, nodding at the cloth bands restraining his wrists.

"You mean... what?" Willow asked, bewildered. "Xander, you can't...!"

"I can and I am," Xander said firmly. "Are you going to help me or not?"

"Well, I am!" Anya declared. "It's just going to make you cranky if you can't visit your little friend... Xander, you have a knife?"

"Does it *look* like I have a knife?" Xander asked, exasperated.

"Oh." Anya shrugged. "Well, I guess I can just undo the buckle... but, you know, in the movies, the hero always gets himself out with a table knife or something. How come you can't do that, Xander?"

Xander rolled his eyes. "Anya, would you just undo the damn buckles?"

"Sorry!" she exclaimed.

"I'll help, I'm sorry," Willow gushed suddenly. "I mean, it's not like you're crazy."

"Willow?" called Tara, poking her head into Xander's room.

"Hey, Tara!" called Xander. "Wanna help me escape?"

"Uh...," Tara stammered.

"Any news?" Willow asked hopefully.

Tara shook her head. "No. Sorry. I just followed you up."

"Well, let's get down there," Xander said. "I want to know what's going on."

"There!" Anya announced, finishing Xander's left ankle. "That's the last of them!"

"Great," Xander said, rubbing his chafed wrists. "Come on."

PART FIVE

He knew the strange feeling was for a reason when the doctor hurried down the hall.

"Mister... uh... Angel?" he called.

Angel stood dutifully; he was so terrified he thought his knees would give out. He reached out to the wall to steady himself.

"I'm Doctor Carnella. Why don't you sit down," the young man advised.

Angel did as he was told. It was as though he was on auto-pilot; his mind wasn't working, wasn't thinking. He had a horrible feeling that something was wrong.

"How... how is she?" Angel asked. It would've helped to believe, but... the feeling he'd had earlier... the doctor's expression...

"Buffy -- if I may call her that... well, when she came to us, she was already unconscious," he started, without glancing at his notes.

Angel nodded. "I know... I, I brought her in..."

"We took her almost immediately up to the O.R.," the doctor continued. "The x-rays we took showed a very severe concussion. She was already unconscious, and things weren't looking very good." He took a deep breath. "So, we decided to try a very... well, experimental procedure. Her chances weren't very high without it, and she does have a signed consent form in her file stating that in the event that she can't be consulted first, we are to make every attempt to resuscitate her." He peered intently at Angel. "Do you understand, Mr. Angel?"

Angel nodded. "Go on," he said hollowly.

Dr. Carnella sighed. "Alright. Well, this new surgery... it *is* a bit risky... I can have someone come down and--"

Angel turned to face the young doctor, his expression pained. "Doctor... is Buffy okay? That's all I want to know. You can give me details later, just... is she okay?"

Doctor Carnella shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Uh... well..."

"Yes or no," Angel cut in, his choked voice sounding much smoother than he felt.

"Oh, great, the doc's here!" Spike exclaimed, returning to the waiting room.

Neither of the other two looked up.

"Buffy... Miss Summers... went into cardiac arrest at two fifty-eight a.m. She's... we did everything we could, but... we... we were unable to... to get her back. She's... she's dead. I'm really very sorry." Dr. Carnella reached out to pat Angel's shoulder, but the vampire quickly rose out of his seat. He stood for a moment, not knowing what to do.

Everything inside him was screaming, aching, crying. *Buffy was dead!* And yet, how could it be true? Hadn't he seen her, alive and healthy, just hours before?

Angel fell to his knees, shock overcoming him. His body shuddered, shivered. Buffy... *gone*! Never again would he see her smiling face, her golden hair, her perfect skin, her...

Angel began to sob. Deep, gut-wrenching heaves. He could feel the tears flowing down his face, could sense the young doctor's growing anxiety.

Spike looked on uncomfortably. He was having trouble believing what the doctor said. How could Buffy be dead? And, more importantly... how had Ethan Rayne killed her? How *could* Ethan have killed her?

Willow, Tara, Xander and Anya chose that moment to appear around the corner.

Willow could tell something was wrong. Angel was huddled on the floor against the row of chairs, his knees drawn to his chest and his head lowered on top. His whole body shook with sobs Willow had never seen before. Angel was usually so quiet, so reserved.

Spike was sitting in a chair to Angel's left. He was quiet, a rare moment for the peroxide vampire.

And the doctor, hovering above both of them.

"Oh God," Willow murmured. The news couldn't be good.

As they drew closer, they could hear fragments of what the doctor was saying.

"I can't honestly tell you what her exact cause of death was," he said, fidgeting nervously. "We can assume... well, I'm fairly certain it was due to her concussion. There... There'll have to be an autopsy, though. So that we can discern what exactly caused her death." He reached out to touch Angel's shoulder. "Do you know if Ms. Summers was an organ donor? We have no notation in her file, and she didn't seem to be carrying a card, as near as we can tell."

Angel wasn't crying, but he couldn't respond.

Dr. Carnella seemed to understand. He knealt lower. "I don't think she was in any pain," he said gently. "She was unconscious almost to the end. She regained consciousness very briefly on the way to the O.R. She kept telling everyone not to let him hurt them. She kept repeating it. 'Don't let him hurt them!' Over and over. Do you know what that means?"

Angel finally looked up. His eyes were haunted, even for him. "Yes," he whispered.

"What?" Spike asked, confused.

Angel stood up suddenly. He pointed at the Scoobies clustered down the hall. "You tell them," he directed Spike. "And then protect them. If Ethan's in town, he's going to do his damnedest to take them out, I know it. You think you can handle that responsibility, Spike?"

"Yes!" Spike responded indignantly.

Angel nodded curtly and strode off down the hall.

PART SIX

"Giles!"

The older -- okay, maybe not -- man turned around in surprise.

"Angel!" he exclaimed.

Angel trotted down the street toward Giles.

"What's with the weapons? No, I take that back," Angel amended. "Kinda obvious, I guess."

"Right," Giles agreed. "Well... any news?"

Angel's face clouded. "None that you'll like. Giles... she..." He sighed, once again near tears. "She died on the operating table, Giles."

"There has to be a mistake!" Giles exclaimed, alarmed.

Angel shook his head. "No, I... when you left..." He looked down, unable to continue. Finally, he gazed back up. "Trust me," he said quietly. "It's no mistake. I... I wish..."

"I know," Giles said gently. "Angel, there was nothing you could've done."

Angel shook his head. "I don't want to talk about it. Let's just... *get* Ethan."

"Agreed," Giles said, his face set with the same deadly resolve that had captured Angel's.

Angel nodded, back to business. "You left in a rush earlier. Why?"

"The Box of Phosphes," Giles said, shining a flashlight into the shop. He stepped carefully through the shattered store-front window. "I only got it in a few days ago. It's definitely right up Ethan's alley, so to speak. That's why I thought of it."

"And the Box of Phosphes is...?" Angel prompted.

Giles sighed. "Alright, imagine that time... imagine it's a long ribbon, alright?" Angel nodded. "Right. Well... anyway... do you know what temporal folds are?"

"Yes," Angel said, surprised.

"What?" Giles appeared startled. "Sorry. You... I only found out about them a few days ago, when I acquired the box. Most people don't know what they are, unless they've used them."

"I have. Remember?" Angel asked quietly. "Last November? The demon's blood... it made me mor-... weak."

Giles nodded. "Right. Well, if you think of time as a long ribbon, temporal folds are little pockets that were... sewn over, so to speak. They were folded up and sewn shut. Well, the Box of Phosphes, if opened, has the power to rip open those pockets. It... undoes them, as if the temporal folds had never been created in the first place. The Box's very presence on Earth has the power to tug at the... erm... strings holding the... pockets shut." As he talked, Giles continued to poke through the items in his shop. Finally he straightened up angrily. "And it's not here. Damn! Ethan must have gotten it!"

"Well, how hard is the box to open?" Angel asked, worried.

"Fairly difficult," Giles admitted. "It's magically sealed, of course, in addition to padlocks and chains. The spells that have to be used to open it... well, many of them were only written down once, so you'd have to track down every last parchment... but then, Ethan is nothing if not prepared. Angel, we *have* to find him and the Box before he has a chance to open it!"

"Oh, I'll get him," Angel agreed. "I can't guaruntee it's completely because of your box, but... I'll get him."

"Don't get yourself killed," Giles said worriedly. "Angel, you know Buffy wouldn't want that."

"I'm already dead," Angel said bitterly. "And believe me, I never believed that more than now."

Giles was silent for a moment, unsure of how to respond. True, Buffy's death hurt him terribly, more than anything he'd ever felt before, more than he could show. The only thing keeping him going at that moment was his mission. He couldn't let Ethan open the Box of Phosphes. If that happened... the world would literally, physically change, and probably not for the better. He knew that Buffy would urge him to get the job done, first and foremost. In that small way, a part of him felt that he was carrying on her legacy.

But no matter what he felt, he knew that Angel had to feel infinitely worse.

Angel wasn't just in love with Buffy Summers. Of course, that was a very big part of his feelings for her. But more than that, Buffy was his key to redemption. Giles knew that Angel felt this, even if he couldn't recognize or understand it; he knew that some part of Angel believed that if he could only protect Buffy, shelter her, cradle her, he would have earned his redemption, and the beautiful prize of her love.

Angel stared back at Giles for a moment, hating the simple sympathy and understanding that he exuded. Finally he turned to go.

Giles couldn't let him leave like that. "Angel, wait!" he pleaded.

The vampire grudgingly turned around to face him.

"This isn't your fault; you do know that, don't you?" Giles questioned.

Angel didn't respond.

"It's not," Giles insisted. "You couldn't have known that Ethan was in Sunnydale. You couldn't have known she'd get hurt like that."

"No," Angel said bitterly, "but I could've stopped her. She wouldn't have even gone out if I hadn't come back."

"What?" Giles prodded. "Angel, what could you possibly have done? You know how much she loves... loved you."

Angel hesitated, but finally came up with an answer. "You'll find out if Ethan opens that box. Now, do you have any idea where he would be hiding?"

Giles shrugged, a strange habit that he'd picked up from his many years living around Americans. "Check the... er... the rat-trap motels. That's usually where he stays... unless this is getting funded by someone else," he finished thoughtfully.

"I'll start there," Angel agreed darkly, stepping back out through the window.

"Angel!" Giles called.

Angel turned around, sighing impatiently.

"I mean it," Giles told him again. "Don't get yourself killed."

Angel nodded and vanished into the darkness.

PART SEVEN

"What do you mean?!" Xander shouted angrily.

Dr. Carnella stepped back nervously. "I really am very sorry. There was nothing we could've done!"

Spike sighed and reached over to restrain the infuriated Xander. "Listen, mate, he's right. Don't go beatin' on the poor doctor. They... they did everything they could."

Xander lowered his head into his hands and sunk down into the stiff hospital chair, next to Tara, who was trying in vain to comfort Willow.

Willow sobbed hysterically. "No!" she wailed. "How could Buffy... Ethan... she can't be... how can...?"

"I know, Wil," Xander murmured, wrapping her in a big bear hug. They sobbed into each other's shoulders, unable to deal with their friend's death.

Anya, Tara, and Spike looked on uncomfortably. They couldn't believe the news, either, but Anya and Tara didn't know Buffy half as well. They couldn't feel the sheer loss that plagued Xander and Willow.

Spike was another matter. He, too, felt shattered. But unlike Xander and willow, his sadness didn't translate into tears. It became anger and hate, the way everything with him did. He felt a very strong itch to punch someone, but unfortunantly, the people surrounding him were just that: people.

No, Spike filled his own category. He didn't have anyone to share his pain with. And that just made him angrier. , he couldn't stand it anymore.

"Could we get the hell out of here... *please*?" he growled through gritted teeth.

Anya looked at him disgustedly. "You know, Xander's trying to work through some very serious pain here! I would think you could be a *little* bit more understanding!"

"Angel wanted me to protect you wankers," Spike shot back. "Well, I've got news for you: I've got pain, too! And it doesn't help me any to try to deal with it *here*!"

Tara gazed at him. "You loved her, didn't you?" she asked softly.

"What business is it of yours?" he said gruffly.

Tara nodded, and reached out to touch his arm. "I'm sorry, Spike."

He gazed back at her, almost fondly. "Yeah, well... thanks."

She nodded again and turned her attention back to Willow.

PART EIGHT

The first two motels that Angel tried had no information. He'd even gotten pushy, and threatened the terrified clerks. But the answer always remained the same. No, there was nobody by the name of Ethan Rayne on the premesis.

Angel pulled his car up in front of the third motel, a run-down Holiday Inn. He marched through the front door, already vamped out.

Angel was tired of playing games.

He walked directly through the lobby, and straight up to the cashier's desk.

"Ethan Rayne," he growled, grabbing the clerk by the collar. "Which room, or do I have to rip your throat out?"

"Easy, easy, man!" the terrified clerk pleaded. "You want money?" He popped open the cash drawer. "Take it! Take the money! And don't worry; doctors these days, they're miracle workers, man! I'm sure they can fix that face!"

"I don't want money!" Angel growled. He dragged the guy in toward his face. "I want to know which room Ethan Rayne is staying in. Now!"

"He... he left an hour ago!" the clerk spilled. "I don't know where he went! He just said this town was too dangerous at night; he was getting as far away as he could!"

"Somehow, I'm not believing that," Angel growled. "There's something you're not telling me. What is it?"

"Nothing! I swear!" the clerk pleaded.

Angel studied the man for a moment, and finally, satisfied that he was telling the truth, lowered him back to the ground.

"I find out you're lying, I'll come back and take care of you," he said quietly. "That's a promise."

Terrified, the clerk could only nod.

Without anything further, Angel strode out of the dingy motel.

PART NINE

He wanted to scream. He wanted to cry. He wanted to rage. He wanted to beat someone or something to a bloody pulp.

Preferably Ethan.

"Damn it!" he shouted, slamming his fist into the steering wheel of his convertable.

*One* chance at bloody, disgusting, *sweet* revenge, and he'd blown it.

By *one* hour!

Seething, Angel started the engine. He backed slowly out of the parking lot, and then flew down the street towards Giles' condo.

All of the sudden, a blinding white light seemed to explode across the whole area. Angel reached up to shield his eyes, his feet automatically slamming on the brake pedal.

When he opened his eyes again, he was on his back lying in the road.

"What the hell...?" Angel muttered, searching wildly for his car.

He rose to his feet and glanced around. The streets were deserted, just as they had been before. But by the light of the streetlamp, he could see other changes. Where fifties-style wooden houses had stood before, now there were small brick cottages. From every house protruded a small flagpole, and hanging on that... *a Nazi swastika*.

It was then that Angel noticed another change.

Thump thump. Thump thump.

Angel had a heartbeat.

PART TEN

Angel pounded down the street, searching wildly for Main. But the city seemed to be laid out differently. Or rather, it was laid out the same, but all of his landmarks... they were all gone! Where the high school's ruins had been, there was now a warehouse. On the area of land that Main Street had been on, there was a series of government-run stores. The strangest things were the flags hanging from every one. All were the red, black and white of the Nazis. And all of the store signs were in German!

"What the hell is going on?" Angel muttered. He glanced around wildly, trying to find something familiar. A face, a sign, a store...

But the street was deserted. There wasn't a person in sight. His trained eyes and knowledge of German quickly picked up the reason why; signs in the window of several stores read: "Geschlossen feur Ausgangsverbot" -- "Closed for Curfew".

'I have to find Giles,' Angel thought. 'Ethan's spells must have worked! The Box must've opened! Now, the question is -- how do we undo all of this?'

But not tonight, he realized. Tonight, everything was "Geschlossen feur Ausgangsverbot".

Angel stumbled back down the streets in the direction he had come from. He aimed to find the old Holiday Inn and stay there overnight.

A few minutes later, Angel discovered something else; the Holiday Inn wasn't there.

"Damn," he swore softly. The pieces were beginning to fall into place. Somehow, Ethan had unlocked the box. Apparently, that meant the Nazis were in control somehow.

'Well, *that's* just great!' he thought sarcastically.

Sighing, Angel began to walk again. He hoped that he'd be able to find an open hotel and get a room for the night.

Unconsciously, his weary legs took his accustomed shortcut through Grovehill Cemetery.

He had no warning of the vampire's attack.

PART ELEVEN

Angel felt himself go down. It was a sudden, quick motion. One moment he was walking past "Betsy Thuringer, 1971 - 1990", the next, he was on the ground.

The vampire's fangs sank into his neck, and he could feel it begin to drink.

He knew he was dying when he heard her voice.

"Hey! Quit snacking on my *boyfriend*!" Buffy yelled.

Then Angel felt the vampire's weight lifted off of him. He lay there for a moment or two, too weak to move, or so he thought. But Angel figured he was already dead. If he was already at the hallucinatory stage...

And then she was at his side. He felt himself being rolled over, and when he opened his eyes again, Buffy's face was staring worriedly down at him.

"Angel! Oh my God, are you okay?" she asked him, cradling his face in her hands.

"Buffy...," Angel gasped.

"Shh, shh, I'm right here," she whispered soothingly, running a hand tenderly down his face.

"You're alive!" he murmured.

She looked perplexed, then laughed. "Yeah! Of course I am! The question is, are you? Can you stand up?" She pulled him up into a sitting position.

"I'm... okay," Angel told her, setting aside his shock. "Just a little... dizzy."

Buffy smiled. "You should be; that vampire would've drained you dry!"

Angel nodded, and she helped him stand. Slowly, they began to walk across the grass toward the street. Angel still felt dizzy, and leaned on Buffy for support.

"So... Angel, it's sweet that you came down early and all, but you know you shouldn't be out after dark," Buffy admonished.

"Right," Angel agreed. "I forgot, I'm mortal now, I can't fend off vampires or demons."

"Actually, I was going to say because of the curfew. But yeah, them too." She smiled grimly.

"So... what exactly's going on?" Angel asked.

"What do you mean?" Buffy asked, confused. "I mean, yeah, I thought that we'd agreed on Saturday too, but you're the one that--"

"No, I mean with the Germans and Nazis and stuff," Angel interrupted.

Buffy shrugged. "Well, the Gestapo's been out a little more than usual, you know, but I've timed my patrols around them and all, so it's really not a problem." She glanced down at her watch. "Damn. It's nearly three. 'Changing of the guard' -- we'd better get inside. I guess Giles is the closest."

"Giles!" Angel exclaimed. "Yeah, I really need to talk to Giles."

"What's up?" Buffy asked, concerned.

Angel laughed. "Uh... well... I'm not really sure how to explain this, but... you know Ethan Rayne?"

"No," Buffy said, perplexed.

Angel sighed. "Right. Okay. Back up a step. See, um... Ethan's a bad guy. He messed with time. Where I came from, the Nazis didn't win World War II. The Allies did. The U.S., Great Britain, France, Russia..."

"The U.S.?" Buffy asked skeptically. "Okay, Angel, I think maybe you lost more blood than I originally thought."

"No!" Angel insisted. "Buffy, just listen, okay? It'll make more sense when I'm done."

Buffy hesitated, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye. Finally she nodded. "Okay."

Angel sighed. "Okay, see, like I said, America won World War II. The Nazis lost. Now, Ethan Rayne--"

"Back up a sec," Buffy interrupted. "First of all, what's that U.S. place you were talking about?"

Angel stared at her, dumbfounded. "You don't know...? But..." A new thought occured to him. "Buffy, where are we?"

Buffy looked surprised. "Uh... Crawford Street, Sunnydale, Western Territory, Nazi-occupied Britain, the planet Earth, the Milky--"

"I get it," Angel interrupted. "Just... I think we'd better find Giles."

"Why do I find myself agreeing with you?"

PART TWELVE

A pounding on the door woke Giles where he had fallen asleep on the desk.

"Yes?" he called, rising to open the door.

"Giles!" Angel exclaimed. He strode into the apartment.

"Oh, fantastic!" Giles exclaimed. "Did you get the box?"

Angel stopped short and nearly laughed. "Oh thank God! You remember too!"

Giles looked perplexed. "Remember what?"

Angel turned serious. "Giles, go look outside for a minute."

"Alright... I..." He stepped outside, confused.

'Five... four... three... two... one...,' Angel thought.

Sure enough, Giles strode in at that moment, the Nazi flag clutched in his hands.

"What is the meaning of this?" he demanded angrily. "Why are you flying *this* by *my* house? What the hell are you pulling here, Angel?"

Angel stared back at him. "Did you get a good look at the other houses on the block?"

"No, it's dark," Giles said, confused.

Angel nodded as though that explained everything. "Right," he said. "Okay, one
more thing. I'll be right back." He stepped outside for a moment, and returned
a moment later... with Buffy in tow.

"Buffy!" Giles exclaimed. He nearly smothered her in a bear hug. "Oh Buffy,
you're alive!"

"Uh... yeah...?" Buffy offered.

Angel coughed, and Giles backed away.

He turned to Angel. "What... how... how is this possible?"

"Ethan opened the box," Angel said grimly.

"*What box?* Who's Ethan?" Buffy demanded, exasperated.

"Nothing," Giles said after a moment. "Angel just... got bitten... by... a vampire...?" he gasped, as Angel showed him the wound.

"Yeah. He was walking through the cemetery alone, can you believe it?" Buffy exclaimed. "Not a very smart idea!"

"Right," Giles said vaguely. He blinked a few times, and then turned to Buffy. "I wonder if you'd give us a few moments alone? I'll return him to you soon, I promise."

"Uh... okay," Buffy agreed, confused.

"What's going on?" Angel demanded, as soon as she was back outside.

Giles stared back at him suspiciously. "I should ask you the same thing. Angel?"

Angel sighed. "I'm... I'm human, Giles."

"What?!"

"You remember I told you I've used temporal folds before?" Angel asked.

Giles nodded. "Yes, when the Mohra demon's blood made you weak."

Angel shook his head. "No. That's not... it's not exactly what happened. Last November when Buffy came to Los Angeles for a day... maybe I should just keep it simple. The story I told you guys about the Mohra demon's blood making me weak? It didn't make me weak, it made me human. Buffy and I... well, I found out that she would die if I stayed human, so I got the Oracles to turn back time."

Giles stared at him. "So... you... when Ethan opened the box, you..."

"Right." Angel paused for a moment. "Giles, why didn't you back me up with Buffy?"

Now it was Giles' turn to sigh. "Angel, she can't know," he said quietly. "We'd cause an uproar, a panic. It's better if just you and I know, at least until we get this sorted out." nodded reluctantly. "Yeah. Okay, I get it... So, just play the part, right?"

"Right," Giles said firmly.

Angel hesitated. "But... Giles, if I'm human again... I don't think I have to tell you what that means for me and Buffy... but... what do I tell her? I can't just... Giles, I can't fake it around her. It just won't work."

"That's really your department," Giles said gently. "But if you want my advice... Angel..." Giles sighed. "We're going to have to reverse the Box's effects and when we do... Buffy will be dead. If I were you... well, remember that. This may be your last chance to tell her... well, you know."

Angel nodded, and swallowed. "Thanks... you're right. I... I will." He turned to go, but then turned back around. "Thanks, Giles. Really."

PART THIRTEEN

"So... what was that all about?" Buffy asked as they walked along.

Angel sighed. "It's... it's nothing. I mean, it's *something*, but I can't... I can't tell you right now."

"Oh." They walked in silence for awhile.

Finally, Buffy spoke again. "You *are* Angel though...? I mean, you're not just a look-alike or something... right?"

Angel smiled grimly. "Yeah, I'm definitely Angel... just... I remember things a little differently than you do." He sighed and stopped walking. Buffy stopped too, and he clutched her hands to his chest. "I love you," he murmured.

"I know," she said, surprised. "Angel, as long as we've known each other, that's one thing I've *never* doubted."

Angel nodded. "Good." He sighed again. "Buffy... what I told you earlier... it's not just my blood loss talking. I can't... I can't tell you exactly what's going on right now. This may just have to be one of those things you trust me on..."

"Okay," she said simply.

"And Buffy..." Angel hesitated. "In my dimension, things are different. Between us. That day last November... in my... world, it... it happened, but...I had to take it back, become a vampire again. To save you. And because of that... well, things got... bad." He took a deep breath. "If I go back, I'll never be able to tell you this. So... I just want you to know... I love you, Buffy. More than anything. I always have. I always will. I could never not love you. I just want you to know that."

"Oh, Angel!" Buffy cried, wrapping her arms around his neck. "I *know* that! And I love you too. Okay?"

Angel didn't, couldn't, answer, but held her even tighter.

Finally, Buffy broke away.

"We'd better get inside," she said. "We... we don't want to get caught outside at night. You know?"

"Right," Angel agreed. "Where to?"

"My house," Buffy said, leading him by the hand.

PART FOURTEEN

"Shhh," Buffy warned. "I don't want to wake my parents up. They'd totally flip if they knew I was out after curfew!" She tip-toed in through the kitchen and shut the door carefully behind them.

"Well, when else are you going to slay?" Angel asked, confused.

"Well, you know that, and I know that, but *they* don't!" Buffy whispered. They crept up the stairs toward Buffy's bedroom.

"They don't know you're the Slayer?" Angel asked, confused.

"No!" Buffy looked shocked. Then her look softened, and she even looked excited. "In your dimension... they know? That's so cool!"

"Well, your mom does," Angel told her. "I don't think your dad knows, but it doesn't really matter, with him in L.A. and all."

"Why's he in L.A.?" Buffy asked. They reached her bedroom and Buffy shut the door quietly behind them.

"They're divorced," Angel said. "Are they... I mean... they're *not* divorced here?"

Buffy sighed. "They fight an awful lot, but no. I know they want to get divorced. They almost filed a few years ago, but... well, it's kind of worrying, being a British citizen right now. *Not* being German. I think Dad feels like he has to protect us. So at the last minute, they decided not to. I kind of wish they'd just do it, get it over with. It'd be better than them constantly fighting."

"Maybe," Angel agreed.

Buffy plopped down on the bed. "Sorry. This conversation isn't going at all where I wanted it to. I was kind of hoping for something that would be... uh... romantic-moment inducing, if you know what I mean."

Angel laughed.

Buffy smiled. "Well, come here." Angel complied, sitting down beside her.

"Now kiss me," Buffy whispered.

Angel had no problems following orders that night.

PART FIFTEEN

Buffy awoke early the next morning. She shifted out from under the weight of Angel's protective arm, and climbed out of her bed.

She changed into street clothes, ran a brush through her hair, and was on her way down the stairs for breakfast when her mother's voice stopped her.

"Buffy!" Joyce called.

Buffy stopped and turned guiltily around. "Uh... hi! Morning, Mom."

"Morning," Joyce said cheerily. She began her descent down the staircase. "I think I'll make eggs for breakfast... do you want any?"

"Um, sure!" Buffy agreed. She hesitated. "Uh, Mom... don't... go in my room, please."

Joyce glanced warily at her daughter. "You trying to hide something from me?"

"No!" Buffy said quickly. "No, it's just... Angel... got into town last night, and he got... attacked... by a mugger or something. I brought him home."

"Buffy--"

"I took the floor, don't worry," Buffy said quickly.

'Yeah, right!' she thought wryly.

"But... he's still sleeping. I don't want to wake him," she finished lamely.

Joyce nodded. "Well... Buffy... I... I know Angel's... quite the gentleman, but... well... you're still my daughter. Next time... why don't you have him... take the couch or something?"

"Right," Buffy said dismissively.

"No, she *is* right," Angel said from the top of the stairs. He finished pulling a t-shirt over his head and trotted down the stairs toward them. "Hi, Mrs. Summers."

"Hello, Angel," Joyce said, embarressed. "I... I didn't see you there."

Angel smiled. "It's okay. It's my fault. You're right."

"Angel, you don't..." Buffy began warily.

Angel turned so that he was facing her and not Joyce. He winked, and Buffy grinned again.

"No, your mother's right," Angel said. "I *am* your boyfriend, and it really isn't decent for me to share a room with you. Next time, I'll take the couch."

Buffy's mouth opened, horrified. But before she had a chance to explain, Joyce jumped in.

"You're her *boyfriend*?" she demanded. "Buffy told me you were friends, but... I'm really *not* sure how I feel about this."

Buffy grimaced. "You know, it *is* my life, Mom. I'm twenty years old!"

"Oh, right!" Joyce said sarcastically. "And let me ask you something, Buffy. Whose roof are you living under? Where else would you go? If it's your life, then start being responsible for it!"

"If it's my life, I'd like to make my *own* choices about responsibility, and my definition of it," Buffy returned hotly. "I'm the one who has to live with the consequences; I know that."

Joyce sighed. "I... we'll talk about this later. I think maybe you need to think about just what you're saying."

"Sure. Fine. Whatever," Buffy replied angrily. She grabbed Angel's hand and pulled him along behind her out to the back porch.

Buffy flopped down in the porch swing, frustrated. Angel just stood by awkwardly, not knowing what to say.

"You know, I...," Buffy started angrily. She lapsed back into silence. When she spoke again, it was more calmly. "I just wish that she would... *try* to be a little bit more understanding."

"She doesn't know about the good you're doing, Buffy," Angel said gently, sitting down beside her. "I'm sure your parents just worry about you. They don't know how capable you really are."

Buffy sighed and leaned against him. "I just... sometimes I wish I could tell her. It would make things so much easier if they just... do they really know about me in your reality?"

Angel nodded. "Yep. Your mom's... a little uncomfortable about it, as near as I can tell. She just worries, Buffy. You're her daughter."

"But she knows?" Buffy asked him.

"Yeah."

They sat in silence for a few moments.

Buffy sat quietly, contemplating her brilliant idea. She wasn't sure Angel would go for it, but...

"Could I... could I go back with you?" Buffy asked slowly.

"I... I don't know, Buffy," Angel said, surprised. "I guess we'll have to ask Giles about that. I mean... do you really want to?"

"Yeah," Buffy said calmly. "I mean, it can't be worse than here. Anything's better than here." Another thought occured to her. "Oh! But... Angel..."

"What?" he asked, concerned.

"Well... when you came here, I think you and Giles replaced the Angel and Giles of my universe," Buffy explained slowly. "If I went back with you, I think I'd replace the Buffy of your universe. How could I... I mean, I couldn't..."

Angel sighed. "Buffy... first of all, I don't think we're dealing with alternate realities here. I think... I think it's something else. A spell type of thing, maybe, that alters reality, but... do you... do you get what I'm saying?"

"I think so," Buffy said slowly.

"Second of all..." Angel paused, unsure of how to continue. "Second of all, the Buffy of my world, my reality... she's dead. She... she..."

"I'm *dead*?" Buffy asked, aghast.

"*You're* not... I mean, she's... you're... I don't know," Angel admitted. "But the fact that you're alive here... it convinces me that you weren't supposed to die then. Maybe there *was* some kind of glitch... a mistake..."

"How...? When...?" Buffy asked, her voice strangled.

Angel sighed again. "Last night. Ethan RAyne... threw you through a window. You hit your head... a concussion... Then you fell asleep, and... they couldn't wake you up..."

Buffy nodded. "So... does everyone already know I'm dead? I mean, would it be too big of a jump for me to go back? Would it be too weird?"

Angel thought for a moment. "I don't know. I know, and Giles knows, and Spike knows... and I told him to tell Xander and Willow--"

"Willow? I... you told a tree I died?" Buffy asked, confused.

"No, your friend Willow," Angel told her.

"I have a friend named Willow?" Buffy was still confused.

"Yeah!" Angel paused warily. "Don't you... but... oh." Finally realization sunk in. "Willow... Willow's Jewish. I guess... I guess maybe her ancestors..."

"Oh," Buffy said slowly. "Well... yeah..."

"Damn," Angel murmured. "You know what this... but no, guess you don't. Willow's a very experienced witch. She's really good with spells and stuff. I was kind of counting on her expertise in getting everything back to normal."

"Oh." Buffy thought for a moment. "Well, Giles is good at that stuff... right? I mean... he is in mine, but... in yours?"

"Fairly capable," Angel agreed. "I guess we'll just have to make it work."

"Guess so."

On to Part Sixteen