It Lives In Me

by Chrissy

Part Six

"This was really nice of you," Buffy said sincerely. She nearly reached over to pat Angel's hand, but thought better of it.

Angel glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. "No problem. I want to help Giles as much as you do... I'm sure he's okay, Buffy." He kept going past the exit for L.A. They had found Harry Blackforth's address in one of Giles' planners and Angel had agreed to be a part of the rescue. Angel, Doyle, and Buffy.

"I know," Buffy sighed. "It's just--" Suddenly her tone changed. Her hands reached up and began to scratch at her face. Fear crept into her voice. "Angel... Angel, help me!"

Angel looked over quickly and saw that her face was beginning to bleed from the wounds her nails were inflicting. "Buffy? what are you doing? Stop it! You're hurting yourself!" He turned back to the road just in time to avoid hitting a green Chevrolet.

"Angel... I can't stop!" she cried. "Help me... stop... what's... what's happening to me?"

"Doyle!" Angel ordered. "Grab her hands!"

Doyle, who was sitting behind the Slayer, quickly complied. He held them fast, and Buffy used every ounce of energy she had to try not to hit him away.

But she was out of control. She twisted his wrist and sent a fist flying into his face. "No!" she moaned.

Angel made a quick decision. He pulled the car across two lanes of traffic and then stopped on the shoulder of the road. Angry horns blared from every direction, but Angel didn't care. He climbed out of the car, ran around to the passenger side, and pulled Buffy out. He held onto her wrists, cradling her to his chest so that she couldn't hurt herself. She fought back, but Angel was as strong as she was, and managed to control her.

"Doyle! Drive!" Angel barked. "Back to my place! Now!"

Doyle scooted out of the back seat and ran around to the driver's side. Angel climbed into the backseat, pulling Buffy along with him.

"I don't see why I couldn't go," Cordelia said, annoyed. "I mean, now I'm stuck here! And *so* bored..."

"Well, they needed to rescue Giles," Willow reasoned. "And if there was danger... would you really want to be there?"

"No," Cordy admitted.

"Go!" Angel yelled.

Buffy lay across the backseat, her head in Angel's lap. Her body kept kicking out, trying to sit up, but Angel held her down.

"What the hell is going on?" Doyle yelled back, his foot on the gas pedal. They zoomed back out into traffic, then across the median and drove back to the L.A. exit.

"I don't know!" Angel said. "Maybe that... Scarral demon... Buffy, did you touch it or something?"

"No!" Buffy said, her hands still trying to work themselves free. "Angel, help me! I'm so scared... don't let me..."

"Shh," Angel murmured, leaning down to kiss her forehead. "Buffy, I won't let anything happen to you. You hear me? I promise!"

Willow and Cordy were interrupted by a loud banging on the door. Then it swung open and Spike stepped inside.

"Where's Buffy?" he demanded.

"With Angel and Doyle," Cordelia replied. "Why?"

Spike sighed and sat down on the couch. "Nothing, I guess. I just really need to talk to her."

"What's going on, Spike?" Willow asked, worried.

"Nothing!" Spike said angrily, jumping to his feet. "It's private! Look, if she's not here... well, when she comes back... just tell her.... tell her I said I'm sorry if... if I hurt her." Spike smiled bitterly and left the house.

The girls were too shocked to go after him.

"Okay, was it just me, or did Spike actually just *apologize* for something?" Cordelia asked after a moment.

"Take this exit!" Angel ordered. Buffy continued to fight him, apologizing all at the same time. If the situation hadn't been so dangerous, and if she hadn't obviously been terrified and in great pain, Angel might have laughed at how strange it was.

Finally Doyle stopped the car. "You've very lucky you live near the highway," he remarked.

"Come on," Angel said, climbing out of the car. He pulled Buffy out by her wrists so that she couldn't keep clawing at herself. When she was out, he turned her around so that her back was to his chest. He crossed her arms over her stomach and held them there.

"Can you get the doors?" Angel asked Doyle.

"Sure." Doyle slammed the car doors shut, then opened the door to their building. Angel walked through, nearly dragging a whimpering Buffy. Doyle then came in and jiggled the door to their office.

"Keys?" he asked.

"On the ring with the car keys," Angel said struggling to hold Buffy still.

Doyle fumbled with them for a moment, and finally the door was opened.

Angel rushed in, now really dragging Buffy. "Come... on!" he grunted. "Buffy, stand up!"

"It's not me!" she half-screamed, half-sobbed. "I'm not... I can't..."

Angel picked her up and carried her into his office. "Sorry," he said, trying to open the door to the stairs. Doyle rushed in and opened it for him.

"Thanks," Angel said. he carried Buffy down and Doyle followed for instructions.

"Call Cordy and Willow," Angel ordered. "Tell them to find out everything they can about this thing. Specifically, how to get it the hell out of her!"

"Right!" Doyle said, trotting back upstairs.

Angel lowered Buffy to the ground.

"Angel... I'm so scared," she whispered. "I can't... I can't move my arms, or... it's doing something to me! Make it stop!"

"I'm trying," Angel promised, rubbing his hands up and down her arms.

Suddenly Buffy kicked him away from her. Angel went flying across the room. He scrambled to his feet, but Buffy was already in the kitchen. Angel rushed after her. She was standing over the counter, her back turned to him.

Then she turned around. Angel gasped. Buffy had a stake in one hand, a knife in the other.

"No, Buffy, don't!" he started as she moved the knife down her arm, the point leaving a small bloody trail wherever it went.

"Angel!" Her voice trembled. Angel took a step forward, and her hand held up the stake in a defensive position.

"Don't come closer!" she begged. "I might kill you!"

"No. Buffy, put the knife down. Stop!" he gasped, watching her left hand poke the point into her arm, polka-dotting it with her blood.

Buffy closed her eyes against the pain and sobbed, the knife still tracing her arm. Angel slowly moved closer, a hand outstretched to grab the knife and the stake.

Suddenly her eyes shot open. "Hit me," she said, her voice trembling despite her clenched teeth. "Hard as you can!"

"What? No!" Angel replied, startled.

"Hit me! Kick me!" Buffy repeated, her voice growing louder. "Angel, it's gonna kill me unless you knock me out!"

"Buffy, I... I can't..." His voice trembled. She was covered in blood. He was afraid that if he hurt her, knocked her out... she might not wake up.

Suddenly the hand holding the knife jumped to her throat.

"Oh God! Do it now!" Buffy screamed. "It's going to kill me! Now!"

Angel gritted his teeth and kicked her as hard as he could. Buffy went flying across the kitchen. Her body hit the wall and slumped to the ground, unconscious.

Angel ran to her side, feeling sick. He felt for her pulse; still there. Gently, he picked her up and laid her out on the table. He ran a paper towel under the faucet and then tried to wipe the blood off her arms and face. Before he realized it, he'd vamped out.

It was the blood. Angel sighed and waited for it to pass. But it didn't. There was just too much blood. So he continued to wipe the blood on her face away.

Buffy's eyes fluttered under the wet cloth.

"Angel?" she murmured.

Buffy sat up and wrapped a hand around behind his neck, pulling him closer...

"Buffy, thank God!" he sighed. She was coming out of it!

...And then she slammed his face to her neck.

"Oh no. Angel... please?" Buffy begged. "Oh, please don't...!"

Angel understood now. If it couldn't make her kill herself, it would try to get him to do it. He gritted his sharp teeth, trying to make his face go away, fighting off the urge to just take her then and there. He could smell her blood, could feel it coursing through her veins, underneath his lips. All he
had to do was open his mouth and...

"No!" Angel growled, shoving away from the table and Buffy as hard as he could.

Buffy looked terrified. "Angel? Angel... God, I'm sorry! I'm not... I mean..."

Angel swallowed. "I know," he said, his back to her. "Sorry. Don't worry. I swear, I won't. I can't. I won't. I won't... I won't let myself..."

He felt her hands tangling themselves in his hair as she stood up behind him.

'You know you want to!' a voice inside of him hissed.

"No!" he whispered vehemently.

Buffy gasped. "Oh, no! Angel, do it! I... I have the stake! Oh... God, Angel, I'll kill you if you don't do it! You know... I can't... I can't control myself!"

Angel turned around very slowly and felt the tip of the stake she was holding pressing through his sweater and into his chest. He knew that if it killed him, it would soon kill Buffy. And he had to protect her.

Decision made.

Slowly he leaned down, tenderly brushing his lips against hers in a kiss so gentle it was barely there. Then he moved his lips down, down her cheek, down her chin, tracing her throat with his lips, silently begging for her to trust him... and for him to trust himself. Buffy's hand moved to his neck, pulling him even closer. Angel opened his lips now, letting his teeth brush against her tender skin, testing his will power. He heard Buffy let out a frightened whimper.

Buffy was terrified when she felt sharp teeth pressing against her skin. She knew that Angel would rather die than bite her, but she worried that at this stage, Angel might not be in control anymore. She closed her eyes and tried not to cry out. If she made any noise, he might not do it. And if he didn't go through with it, bite her, drain her, she knew she wouldn't be able to keep herself from killing him. She could never live with herself if she did that. Wouldn't it be better to die here, now, with Angel, than later, without him?

Angel could feel her fear and hated himself for causing it. He gently pressed his fangs against her neck, trying not to break the skin. If he tasted blood, he knew he'd lose control. As it was, he could feel the demon inside him stirring, begging for him to rip her throat out. He wanted to right then, with every inch of him. But he controlled the urge. He could do it. He could fight it. He knew he could.

His trick had the desired effect. He felt Buffy's arms relax, preparing for the injury the demon thought he would inflict rather than die. As soon as they did, he grabbed the stake out of her hand and pulled his head away from her neck in one fluid motion.

His demon visage disappeared. "I'm so sorry," Angel whispered, tears running down his cheeks. "God, I came so close... are you okay? Did I... did I hurt you?"

"No," Buffy said, her voice trembling. She stared into his eyes. "You could never hurt me. Not like that. I know you, Angel. I know you couldn't."

"I almost... I almost killed you...," he whispered. "I... I *wanted* to kill you... I..."

"But you didn't," Buffy said, her voice stronger. "You saved me."

Angel held her hands to his chest. "We're going to beat this thing," he said firmly.

Doyle came running down the stairs just as the demon inside Buffy began to struggle again. She tried to pull away from Angel, but he held her fast, wrapping his arms around her body to hold her still.

"Good news!" Doyle informed them. "Okay, not really news... or good, actually, but..."

"What is it?" Angel interrupted, struggling to control Buffy.

"Willow and Cordelia are still researching," Doyle explained. "But they found some stuff out earlier."

"Like what?" Buffy asked desperately, her body still struggling against Angel's.

"Like how this thing possessed people," Doyle said, eyeing Buffy. "It can take two forms. A reptilian animal, or a puddle of bright green... uh... goo."

"That's why it teams up with the Mohra demons," Angel realized. "It looks like their blood."

"Yeah, well, it can get into your body three ways," Doyle said. "When it's in its liquid form, it can get into you merely by touching your skin, going in through a wound, whatever. When it's a snake, it can bite you. And once it's into you, you can infect someone else."

"You mean I could give this to Angel?" Buffy asked fearfully.

Doyle shook his head. "No. Once it's in a human, it can be passed along during one period, before it begins to take control. Once it gets in you bloodstream, it can be passed on simply by touching someone. Then it's gone from the original host. You have about twelve to fifteen hours after it's in your body before it takes control of you. And once you get to that point, you can't infect anyone until you're dead."

Angel held onto Buffy even tighter. "How do we kill it without killing Buffy?"

"They don't know," Doyle said apologetically. "They're still looking."

"Okay," Angel said determinedly. "Doyle, you're going to be the operator here. I need you to sit by the phone and wait for their call. Also, call the number for that place Giles was supposed to be visiting. See if he's there yet. Call back every ten minutes till you get an answer. I know Cordy and Willow were doing that, but I want them to concentrate on research. Got it?"

"Yes sir!" Doyle said good-naturedly. "Well, I'll let you know if anything important comes in." He ran back up the stairs, but turned around halfway. His voice was quieter, more serious. "Angel, we're gonna beat this thing. We're gonna save her. I swear, man."

"Thanks," Angel said quietly, unconsciously folding his head over hers in a more protective position.

Doyle nodded and left.

Part Seven

"Harry Blackforth," the man said pleasantly.

"Mr. Blackforth!" Doyle exclaimed, surprised and excited. "Fantastic! We've been trying to reach you all day. Is Rupert Giles there?"

"Yes," Blackforth said. "Should I put him on?"

"Please!" Doyle said.

A moment later, Giles was on the line.

"Hello? Who is this?" he asked.

"Hey, it's Doyle," the man said.

"Ah, right, yes," Giles said. "You work for Angel. Yes... well, how are things going?" His voice now sounded anxious. "Did you and Xander get there in time?"

"Actually, that's why I'm calling," Doyle said. "The answer is... well, yes and no."

"What? What do you mean?" Giles snapped. "Is everyone alright?"

"No," Doyle said. "Xander's in the hospital. He lost a lot of blood. Other than that, everyone's fine, except..." He hesitated. "That suicide demon's already gotten to Buffy. Scarral."

"What?! She's... is she...?" Giles exclaimed, fearing the worst.

"No, no! Sorry. No, Angel's taking care of her. She's here with us in L.A., in his apartment. I'm at the office. So far he's been able to keep her from doing any serious damage, but it's only a matter of time. She's terrified, and..." Doyle sighed. "Frankly, I am too. Look, do you know how to get rid of the demon?"

"If it's truly a Scarral demon, then yes. Yes, I do," Giles said matter-of-factly. "She has to survive for ten hours. Quite simple, really."

"What?" Doyle asked.

"It's simple," Giles repeated.

"No! No, I mean the other part! Ten hours?"

"Yes. You and Angel, you've got to keep Buffy from... well... yes... You've got to keep her safe for ten hours after Scarral took control of her body. After that, Scarral will die. Do you understand?" Giles asked.

"Okay, let me get this straight," Doyle said. "All she's gotta do is stay alive until..." He checked his watch. "Six a.m. tomorrow?"

"Yes," Giles agreed. "But you're going to have to do it on your own. Can you handle it?"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Doyle protested. "You're her Watcher! We need you to help! Angel's already tiring out, and it's only been two hours!"

"I can't," Giles said firmly. "The place where I'm staying... well, there's absolutely no way in or out after sunset. The gates won't open again until the sun is up." His voice softened. "I trust Angel, Doyle. If there is one thing I'm sure of right now, it's that Buffy is in good hands. Angel won't let her... well... he loves her more than life itself."

"You don't know the half of it," Doyle muttered. "Well, anyway, I'll pass that along. Wish us luck."

"*Ten hours*?" Angel asked. Doyle nodded, and he sighed, cradling an unconscious Buffy in his arms. She'd gotten away again, and they'd gone through the same routine as before. But this time the demon had known it was coming; it had been prepared. Buffy hadn't gone down without a hard fight.

"I'm sorry, man," Doyle said. "You think you can do it?"

"I have to," Angel said firmly. "What other choice is there? I won't let her die, Doyle. She's too much to... she's too important to the world... and to me. Yeah, I'll do it, alright."

Doyle nodded. "Great. Well... anything I can do to help?"

"Yeah," Angel said, rising to his feet. He gently laid Buffy down on the floor. "Help me find those chains and set them up."

"She must trust you an awful lot. In my experience, women usually get a little... uh... *nervous* when they wake up chained to beds," Doyle joked. Angel raised an eyebrow, and the half-demon coughed. "Sorry. Not the best time for a joke, I s'pose."

The two searched around, finally discovering the chains stashed in the closet. Then they hooked them around the posts of the bed. Next, Angel walked back into the living room, scooped Buffy into his arms, and carried her back. He laid her down on the bed, and began cuffing her ankles and wrists. He and Doyle pulled the chains tight so that she couldn't hurt herself, and then Angel walked Doyle back to the stairs.

"Thanks," Angel said quietly.

"Sure," Doyle said. "Call if you need something, eh?"

"Yeah," Angel agreed.

"I'll just be upstairs," the half-demon assured the vampire. He left, and Angel turned back to his tortured thoughts.

'What if I *can't* protect her, *can't* save her?' he thought. The idea terrified him, so he pushed it from his mind.

"Angel?" he heard a scared voice call from the bedroom.

Angel rushed back in. "Right here," he assured her.

"I can't see you!" she said, her tone panicky.

Angel sat down on the edge of the bed and squeezed her hand. "Here."

She let out a relieved sigh, although her body continued to fight the chains. "Good. I mean, you can... you can go... if you want..."

"I'm not going anywhere," Angel assured her. He laughed nervously. "You haven't asked why you're chained to a bed yet."

Buffy tried to laugh, but she couldn't quite force it from her mouth. "I think I can guess," she said.

They sat in silence for a few moments, Angel soothingly rubbing his them back and forth over her hand.

"Angel, you ever thought about dying?" she whispered finally.

Angel scooted closer to the center of the bed, so that he could look straight into her eyes. He cupped her face in his hands and did just that.

"Don't you dare!" he said, his voice shaking with fear and rage. "Don't even *think* about it! You are *not* going to die, because *I won't let you*. Understand?"

The tears in Buffy's eyes spilled over, and she tried to stifle a sob.

Angel lowered his forehead to hers, trying not to cry himself. "Oh, Buffy," he sighed. When he looked up, there were tears in his eyes. "Yes," he said finally, "I have. And you know what I keep thinking? The world, the heavens, the Powers-That-Be... they all suck, you know? Even when we're dead, we still won't be together. You'll be going to the beautiful sunny white palace where they reward the evil fighters, and I'll go straight to the dark dungeon where the evil-doers are kept."

Buffy sobbed again. "Don't... don't say that. You're... you're not... I love you, Angel. Please don't ever leave me."

Angel smiled wryly. "I won't die on you, if that's what you mean." He rubbed a tear away from her cheek with his thumb, then leaned down and kissed the spot where it had been. "I love you," he whispered, moving his lips slowly down her cheek, leaving a trail of tender kisses. "I always will." He reached her lips and gently brushed his across. Buffy kissed back, wanting to reach up and pull him down harder, but knowing that she couldn't... and not just because of the demon inside of her, or the chains.

Angel sat up, smoothing Buffy's hair back from her face. "You're not going to die," he told her. "You're gonna be just fine. I won't let you die, Buffy." He kissed her forehead again. "My personal guarantee." He curled up next to her on the bed, his arms around her waist, his chin nuzzling her shoulder. "I won't let anything happen to you," he whispered.

"I trust you, Angel," Buffy whispered back.

Part Eight

"How's Buffy doing?" Willow asked anxiously as Cordelia hung up the phone.

"Seven more hours," Cordy replied, just as nervous. "God, I hope she's okay."

Willow looked up in surprise and snorted. Cordy saw it and looked hurt.

"Sorry," Willow said, "but that... well, I can't believe I just heard that come out of your mouth."

"I'm not saying I like Buffy or anything," Cordelia said defensively. "It's just... well... this has to be one of the all-time ickiest, most horrible demon thing we've ever dealt with, and yuck! It's in one of my friends! Poor Buffy." She paused. "Not to mention, if Buffy kills herself, you just know Angel's gonna be all mopey for, like, ever. Mopey bosses are *not* fun to work for."

"And you have the kind of them all, don't you?" Willow agreed.

Cordy nodded. "I mean, he's usually mopey, but this... this would take the cake." She whistled. "Man, I thought he was bad after the whole Buffy-human-time-turning thing! This would be even worse!"

"Buffy-human-time-turning what?" Willow asked curiously.

Cordelia gasped. "Oh! Oops! I *really* wasn't supposed to say that! Okay, please forget, because if Angel finds out I told you, I will be in *such* big trouble..."

"I can keep a secret!" Willow said. "Come on! Tell me!"

Cordy hesitated, then they both plopped down on the couch.

"Okay. You remember when Buffy visited L.A. last November?" she started.

"Three hours done," Angel said, trying to be cheerful.

"Meaning seven to go," Buffy grunted. She was exhausted. Three hours of battling Angel and fighting chains was enough to make anyone exhausted.

Angel sat back down beside her on the bed. "How are you doing?" he asked, smoothing her hair back from her face.

"Tired," she tried to laugh. "And kind of... stiff. I don't know. It's uncomfortable staying in the same position for more than an hour. When I sleep, well, Riley used to say that I--" She stopped short, remembering who she was talking to. "Oh, God, Angel. I'm sorry. I kind of..."

"No!" Angel said quickly. "I want you to tell me about him. Anything. Just... keep talking to me. I don't care what you say. Maybe... maybe this is a good time for us to talk about him."

"What do you want to know?" Buffy asked carefully.

"Anything," Angel said. "For starters... well, where is he now? I mean, how come I didn't see him when I was in Sunnydale? I kind of got the impression that... Did you two...?"

"Break up? Yeah," Buffy nodded. "I guess. I mean... I think we did. I'm not really sure." She swallowed. "He's back int he army. I don't know where. I don't know when -- of if -- he'll ever come back to Sunnydale. When he left... well, we both... said some things, hurt each other. A lot. And... if he was mad at me when he left... I just don't know if he'll want to come back." She looked up at him. "You know, I don't want to talk about Riley. Especially not around you. Angel, when I'm around you... I feel guilty even thinking of Riley."

"Really?" Angel asked, surprised. "Well, don't. Buffy, you know I'll always... and I know you will, too. But... our lives... I mean... it's just total impossibility. And I hate that. Every day. But... you should try to get on with your life. Otherwise, what am I doing in Los Angeles?"

Buffy nodded. "Angel, is that really why you left?"

"You're joking," Willow gasped. "He...?"

Cordelia nodded. "He did. Can you believe that?"

Willow paused. "Coming from Angel... yes. I can," she said finally.

"You totally *cannot* tell Buffy!" Cordelia said, her voice taking on a begging quality.

Willow nodded. "I know. I won't. But I think Angel should. She needs to know, Cordy. This is her life, too. Besides, Riley's gone. I know she's still feeling really down. She needs to hear it."

"Buffy split with Riley?" Cordy gasped.

Willow nodded. "I know. I don't think you'd believe how it happened."

"Tell!" Cordelia said promptly. "Come on! I told you about Buffy and Angel!"

Giles was worried, much more so than he'd admitted over the phone. He knew that Angel would die before he let anything happen to Buffy. Unfortunately, he knew that Buffy's strength alone was enough to manage that, not to mention how strong she'd be when her power was added to the demon's.

And Buffy wasn't the only thing he worried about. What if other people were infected by this thing? Could it possess more than one person at once? He needed to find out, and fast.

That was why he and Harry Blackforth were paging through every book in the latter's library. And Blackforth had a lot of books. Would they find what they needed in time?

Angel stared worriedly at Buffy. She had fallen asleep a few minutes ago. That was probably a good thing, he had to admit. But at the same time... that she lay motionless bothered him. With his vampire senses, he could hear, even feel, her heart beat, and it was music to his ears. Her heart was still going strong, and Angel knew he had to keep it that way.

Buffy stirred in her sleep, struggling against the chains for a brief moment, trying to roll over onto her stomach. Angel found himself wondering if maybe in her sleep she regained control of her body.

He stretched his arm out to the night stand and picked up the key to the chains. He checked again and saw that Buffy was still fast asleep. Slowly, carefully, he stuck the key into the lock for the cuff on her left hand. Slowly, carefully, he pulled her limp wrist out of it and laid her arm down next to her body. He did the same for the Rest of her limbs and then pushed the chains off of the bed.

When he was done, he checked again. Buffy was still asleep. He climbed back on the bed and laid down beside her. He reached out and pulled her into his arms, cradling her as gently as he could while still restraining her from moving around too much. Her body felt limp in his arms.

'She's completely exhausted,' Angel realized.

"Damn!" Dr. Henry Fielson muttered, staring down at his beeper. He walked across the hallway to the nursing station. "Call for me?" he asked Betty.

"ER," Betty told him. "I think it's about the suicide attempt. That's what Ellis mentioned, anyhow." She handed the phone to him.

"Thanks," he said, dialing the floor below.

"Sunnydale General Hospital, ER," a female voice said. "This is Edna speaking. How may I direct your call?"

"It's Henry, Edna," Dr. Fielson said. "I got paged?"

"Yep," Edna said, her tone sounding much more crisp and business-like now. "Let's see... okay, a couple of things. One, the attempted suicide from late last night? Remember, the bottle of Advil and all the cuts and bruises? Okay. I'm sorry, but he flat-lined five minutes ago. You'll need to talk to the parents as soon as we find them."

"Right," Fielson said, making a note on his clipboard. "Next?"

"We had *another* attempt a few minutes ago. Room one-oh-four. A... An Alexander Harris. Dr. Larson wants you to check in on him. Try to get him to talk, all the usual. That one's ASAP. And last of all... okay, we've had three people, paramedics, walk in with cuts and bruises, saying they couldn't control themselves or something like that. One of them slit his wrist ten minutes ago, and Casper said you'd want to take a look at the guys."

"Geez, and it's not even Christmas yet!" Henry Fielson moaned, rubbing his eyes. "Wow. Busy morning. Okay. Well, I'll come right down."

"Oh, just a second," Willow said, interrupting her story. She crossed the room and picked up the ringing telephone.

"Hello?... Oh, hey, Tara!... yeah... uh-huh... what'd they--... he WHAT?! Oh my God... okay.... okay... yeah... thanks. We'll head right over. Thanks, Tara." She hung up the phone, the shock evident on her face.

"What?" Cordy asked anxiously.

Willow looked up. "Xander tried to kill himself at the hospital. Tara... Tara said that the hospital people tried to call me... they didn't have his family's phone numbers..." She grabbed her coat. "C'mon. We've got to go stay with him."

"How is he?" Cordelia asked.

"Alive."

Part Nine

"Angel," Buffy whispered, trying unsuccessfully to maneuver out from under his arms. Finally she settled down, content to stay that way for however long he slept.

She looked up at his face. He was neither smiling nor frowning, although his face was creased with worry lines.

She moved her hand up, running her fingers gently over his face. He was so *peaceful* when he slept... so much more so than he was when he was awake.

Buffy snuggled back down in his arms. She felt safer now than she ever had.

And then she realized -- she had just moved her arms! Was the demon... could it be...?

"Angel!" she said, louder, wiggling her whole body happily.

Angel's head shot upright. "What? Buffy, are you okay?"

Buffy beamed at him. "Yep." She moved her hand up to his face, running it lovingly down his cheek. "And check it out!"

"That's you?" he asked warily.

Buffy nodded happily, tears of relief springing to her eyes.

Angel kissed her on the forehead, burying his face in her hair. "Thank God," he whispered. His grip relaxed, and Buffy sat back, smiling.

Angel sat up too. "So... how do you feel?"

"Tired," Buffy admitted. "Always tired. It's tough being possessed. I feel for other... possessed... people..."

Angle smiled. "It's good to have you back."

Doyle trotted down the stairs. "I thought I heard voices!" he called. "And it's after six o'clock!"

He stopped short when he reached the doorway to Angel's bedroom. He could hear a loud raucous inside... smoochy noises. He blushed, uncomfortable with intruding. Then he heard Angel's phone fall off the night stand.

'Whoa, gettin' serious,' he thought worriedly, pushing open the door. 'Time to prevent horror and mayhem...'

Buffy and Angel were in mid-embrace, arms wrapped around each other, seemingly lost in their kiss. The phone had indeed fallen off of the night stand, as had the lamp and Angel's book. Probably because Buffy was sitting on it.

Doyle cleared his throat. "A-hem. Uh... right now I'd just like to say one word, and that is: *curse*."

Buffy and Angel jumped apart, embarrassed at having been caught.

"Guess we got a little... over... over-excited," Buffy mumbled, nervously twirling a strand of her hair.

Angel looked back and forth between Buffy, the night stand, and Doyle. "Uh... yeah."

Doyle smiled sadly. "Right. Well... good news, looks like Buffy's's feeling better, yeah?"

Buffy nodded. "Yeah. Hence, the celebration."

"Yes, I saw," Doyle said. "Hmm. Well. Uh... guess I'll leave you two alone, then. Sorry to... er... interrupt." He closed the door behind him and quickly ran back up the stairs.

As soon as the door closed, Buffy whistled. "Busted..."

Angel laughed shortly. "Yeah. Uh..."

"No. Yeah, I know," Buffy nodded. She stood up. "I guess... well."

Angel nodded his agreement, but couldn't help but step a little closer to Buffy. She hesitated a moment, but moved even closer.

"Buffy, I...," Angel started.

"No," she said quickly, putting a finger over his lips. "It's okay. We knew this would happen."

He just nodded, unable to speak.

Buffy felt the sudden urge to throw something. "I hate this ending," she whispered to herself.

Angel heard her, though. "I know. I do too. But... well, reality-check."

Buffy nodded. "Uh-huh." She tried to turn and walk away, but quickly turned around to face him again. "Angel... thanks. For everything. You... you saved my life last night."

Angel nodded, watching as she smiled her tight-lipped smile of goodbye and then turned to go again.

He couldn't stand it anymore. Without thinking, he strode across the room, grabbed her arm, and roughly pulled her back into his embrace.

Buffy was locked in his powerful arms before the sound of his footsteps crossing the floorboards even registered in her mind. Everything suddenly went blurry, and she felt dizzy from the power of his kiss.

But she kissed back, with all her might. Every ounce of frustration from being apart, every moment of tension, fear and anger between the two melted into their kiss. Buffy wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling Angel closer. He picked her up off her feet and she wrapped her legs around him, wanting him. Wanting him to do anything with her, but to be together above anything and everything else. He moved to the wall, pinning her body up against it, struggling against the urges within him to move it over to the bed.

Buffy felt electrified. She clawed desperately at the back of his shirt, pouring herself into the kiss until she felt suffocated, and then some. At last she pulled back, gulping desperately for air.

Angel lowered her back to the ground. "Uh... wow. Sorry. That was--"

Buffy silenced him with her lips. She wrapped herself back around him, wanting the moment to last forever. Angel quickly responded, and their passion grew and grew.

Angel felt himself vamping out and tried to turn away, but Buffy stopped him, turning his head back to face her.

"I love you," she whispered vehemently. "I love everything about you. I love your face. Face-es. Both of them. Get it?"

Angel nodded. "Buffy, I could hurt you--"

"No you couldn't," she interrupted. "You couldn't if you tried, and you know it."

Angel shook his head. "No... I don't think you're understanding this." He morphed back into his human face. "I'm... when I'm in vamp-mode, I'm the bad guy again. Everything about me. It's... it's not just the way I look on the outside, it's the way I *feel* on the *inside*. Like... all I want is to kill.
Anyone. Anything. It doesn't matter that I love you anymore. All that matters is that you have blood. And I want it. I can't be around you when I'm like that."

Buffy was taken aback for a moment at his abruptness; Angel could see the hurt register on her face.

"Buffy, I'm sorry," he said, taking a step toward her. He put a hand on her arm, drawing her closer. "I didn't mean for it..."

"I get it," Buffy said. "It's okay." She paused for a moment, staring into his eyes as if she could see his character in them. "Last night I trusted you."

Angel shook his head. "Last night we were *lucky*."

"And now I need you to trust me," Buffy continued, waiting for his reaction.

He didn't react at first. Finally, he swallowed. "How?" he asked cautiously.

"Do you trust me?" Buffy asked him.

Angel stared back at her. "Yes," he said, without hesitation.

Buffy nodded. "Good. We have trust." She ran her fingers through his hair, then pulled his head down to hers. "And love."

Angel kissed her then. He loved her more than anything in the world, and by God, he wasn't going to let her get away this time. It was too much. Too much for any one man. He pulled her into his arms, and she willingly fell into them, kissing back with all of her might. Her hand laced up and under the back of his shirt.

Buffy's touch seemed to set Angel on fire. He picked her up again, this time forgetting about anything but... The. Bed. In. The. Corner. -- Now. In two long strides he covered the distance between where they were standing and the delightful piece of furniture, and he and Buffy fell back on it. He was on top of her, giving her everything he had, everything he was.

Memories invaded Buffy. Flashes. She tasted peanut butter, and chocolate. Kissing Angel... somewhere else. Outside. In the sun...

She sat up suddenly, pushing Angel off with one hand.

"I'm sorry," he said quickly. "That... that wasn't supposed to happen."

Buffy sat up. "I'm not. But I want to know something right now, before this goes any further." She paused. "Exactly what happened last November?"

Angel felt her words as though they'd been a blow. He was silent for a moment, thinking of how to answer. "I can't... I can't tell you," he said finally.

"Why not?" Buffy demanded.

"Because," he said, pained. "The whole point... you're supposed to be able to get on with your life."

Buffy stared at him. "Angel. You and me... we're sitting here. On your bed. Ready to do it, knowing the consequences, and you're talking about getting on with my life?"

He shook his head. "That's why I'm sorry. This can't happen. Not again. Especially not now, not now that we both know." He summoned all of his resolve. "Maybe... maybe it would be better if you go," he said quietly.

Buffy continued to stare at him, now in disbelief. She stood slowly. "You're... you've... I mean..." She plopped back down on the bed. "Nope. We're gonna talk first."

"Get out," Angel said quietly, unable to look at her.

Buffy stood again. "Right. Sorry to inconvenience you." She stared at him for another second, her face showing the anger she felt, instead of the hurt. That was inside. After a second, she left.

Angel sat on the bed, his head in his hands. He heard her begin up the stairs, and stood up. He turned to go after her. "No! Buffy, wait!" he called, running after her.

Buffy reluctantly turned around. "Yeah?" she asked quietly, her voice betraying the hurt his brush-off had caused.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I'm really sorry. This whole weekend... first me in Sunnydale, and... then you here... Buffy..." He sighed. "All of last night, I know, I was the guy in love. I wasn't thinking about how much it would hurt today. And it does. Because... well, being around you..."

"That it?" Buffy asked coldly.

Angel stared worriedly back at her. "Please don't leave mad at me."

Buffy nodded. "Right. I guess I'm just supposed to forget last night... that whole..." She shivered, wrapping her arms around herself. Unconsciously, she took a step back down the stairs, toward him. "That whole thing, where you pretended you were gonna bite me. The whole kiss thing. Angel, it wasn't just me, that was... that was something different. Different from you. You never... you never... *did* that before, and... it was..." She shrugged. "I don't know."

Angel turned away, unable to speak.

Buffy took another step toward him. "Please tell me what happened last November."

Angel shook his head.

"Please?" Another step.

"No."

"Come on, Angel," she said, close enough now that she wrapped her arms around his neck.

Angel brushed her hands off angrily. "No! And... god dammit! Don't do that to me!"

She stepped back. "What?"

"Acting like... Drusilla!" he muttered.

"What?" she asked again, shocked and hurt. She'd heard his comment.

"Don't act like a slut, Buffy," he said quietly. "It doesn't work for you."

"That's it," she said angrily. "I'm leaving." She paused for a moment. "I can't believe you just said that to me."

"Neither can I."

Buffy stared at him for another moment, but he looked away. She shook her head, hurt and angry, and quickly ran up the stairs.

Part Ten

Angel sat on the bed, his head in his hands. He'd been sitting like that, had barely moved, since Buffy had left that morning. His body craved something to eat, but he barely noticed.

Why had he said that?

'Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate. And hate leads to suffering,' he remembered. Cordelia had made him sit and watch the new Star Wars movie the week before, claiming it was a critical part of today's culture.

Boy, was Yoda ever right. Fear of losing it. Anger at her for causing that fear. And now the unbearable suffering, knowing he'd deeply hurt the woman he loved.

Angel sighed and stood up, no longer able to ignore his craving for blood. He walked out into the kitchen, intent on grabbing a bag from the refrigerator, but stopped suddenly. Buffy's blood was still caked to the floor, where it had dripped from her numerous cuts. The floor... the table... the wall...

He sighed and turned around. He couldn't be in here. He couldn't go out. He couldn't be anywhere.

He couldn't *be*. Not without Buffy. Not anymore.

"He woken up yet?" Buffy asked Willow, staring worriedly down at Xander's still-pale body.

Willow shook her head sadly. "No. Not since... well, you know. The demons's gone now. I mean, it's been two days. It has to be. But... I don't know. Between his throat and... and then his wrist..." She sighed, biting her lip to keep from crying. "The doctors... they have him on suicide watch. For real. I mean... well, he obviously doesn't need it anymore."

"Willow!" Buffy exclaimed, shocked. "Don't say that! Come on! We have to be positive!"

She shook her head. "Sorry. Didn't mean it that way. But, you know, he's no longer possessed."

"Oh."

The two girls stared down at their friend in silence.

Buffy sat alone in her room that night. She felt so lonely. Her heart felt beaten and bruised. Trampled on. Totally smooshed...

And torn. Between three men. Actually, one man and two vampires. The hardest part? She couldn't have any of them.

Riley. Sweet, kind, loving, adorable Riley. She missed his arms wrapped around her. She missed dating someone that she truly loved, and out in the sunlight. Romantic picnics at the beach, the park...

Spike. Spike...

'I can't believe I kissed him,' she thought angrily.

But she had. And the scariest part? She'd liked it. Loved it, actually, for at least as long as it lasted. Her feelings for him were... strange. She felt like she had to hate him. They were mortal enemies... *were* mortal enemies. Now... what were they now? Kinda-mortal enemies? Could one *have* an annoying weasel as a mortal enemy?

And then there was Angel. God, Angel. Angel was her real love. The real deal. The all-time best catch. Except for the whole vampire thing. But that was permanent. Until death. He was a vampire, albeit with a soul, and she was the vampire *slayer*.

'Why does life have to be so hard on me?' Buffy wondered angrily.

Three guys. Three loves. All completely different. And all three, she couldn't have.

'Is Angel right? Am I a slut?' she wondered.

She had nearly died when Angel had said that. And to compare her with... Drusilla! *Drusilla*! Was that... was that why Spike liked her? Could it really be true?

'More importantly, does Angel really think that's true?'

Spike stood outside, staring up at Buffy's window. He watched her silhouette pace back and forth, then flop down on the bed. She was obviously worried about something. Maybe Xander. Maybe something else...

He turned to go, remembering what she'd said about his lurking. Couldn't she see that he just wanted to hold her? Protect her?

The thoughts strengthened him, and he turned back to the house. Joyce's car wasn't out front. She wasn't home.

Buffy sat up suddenly when she felt a presence outside her door.

"Mom?" she called quietly.

Spike stepped into the room. "Sorry. I... kinda let myself in," he said.

"You or the tooth fairy," Buffy mumbled.

Spike gave her an odd look, but decided to go ahead. "I'm... I'm sorry if I hurt you last night."

She stared up at him suspiciously. "What do you mean?"

Spike sighed. "If you didn't want to kiss me, then I'm sorry. I didn't want to... I don't... I'm not very good at explaining this."

Buffy stood up too, not believing her ears. "Uh, who are you and what have you done with Spike?"

Spike shook his head. "Let's just say I'm turning over a new leaf."

"No, no," Buffy said warily. "I... I have first-hand experience with possessing demons. This stinks of possession."

"No, Buffy, it's me!" he said impatiently. "Truth is... well, I've been in... I hated seeing you with that Riley chap. He was... messed up, Buffy. Unhinged. Missing something upstairs." He tapped his head. "I saw that right away. I mean, who in their right mind would've joined that commando unit?"

Buffy got in his face angrily. "Is that why you came here? To diss Riley? Get out!"

"No!" he said, genuine hurt showing on his face. "I mean... I didn't come here to do that. To 'diss Riley'. I just... Buffy, why couldn't it work between *us*?"

Buffy stared at him for a moment. "Because the only reason you like me is 'cause I remind you of Drusilla."

Spike stared at her, surprised. "Uh... Buffy? I think something else is goin' on inside your pretty little head. Where did that come from?"

Buffy sighed and plopped back down on the bed. Spike sat down beside her.

"I... Angel said some stuff in L.A.," Buffy explained slowly. "I think maybe he was right."

"What'd he say?" Spike demanded.

"Nothing," she said shortly. "Anyway, it's not important. But... I need to know if you really see me that way, Spike."

He shook his head. "No. I don't. Frankly, Buffy... I seriously doubt the two of you could be more different."

"Why, 'cause she's the crazy brunette ho?" Buffy asked.

Spike started. "Hey, look, do you see me dissing Riley? Or Angel, for that matter?"

Buffy sighed. "Guess not. I'm not apologizing though. She is. All of that."

"And you think you are too?" Spike asked, unbelieving. "Is that what all of this is about?"

"Except for the crazy brunette part," Buffy answered, staring down at her feet.

"Angel... Angel said..." Spike whistled. "Buffy, I think we're dealing with mis-communication here. Angel... He said you were a ho?"

"Essentially, yeah," Buffy said. "I believe the word he used was slut, though." She stared back up at him. "Why am I even telling this to you?"

"Because you like me," Spike teased.

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Spike, I hate you," she said matter-of-factly.

Spike looked down. "I guess... well, that answers that question, then."

Buffy felt herself melting at the hurt look on his face. He really did like her. And... maybe it wasn't because of Drusilla. She slowly moved closer to him, putting a hand on his arm. "I said I hate you. Didn't say I don't love you, too."

Spike looked back up. "You serious?" he laughed quietly.

Buffy nodded, leaning in to kiss him. The whole time she was doing it, she couldn't believe it. What had come over her? She was kissing *Spike*?

Spike didn't care *what* had come over her; whatever it was, he liked it! He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer, into him. Buffy winced and pulled back.

"What?" he asked, concerned.

"Oh, it's nothing," she said. "My arms..." She self-consciously pulled the long sleeve even further down past her wrists, trying to hide the cuts all over her arms. "Uh... my arms are... uh... never mind."

Spike narrowed his eyes, suspicious, and took her hand. Quickly he yanked the sleeves up and stared wide-eyed at the cuts all over her arms. He looked back up at Buffy. "Did Angel do this to you? What exactly have you been fighting?"

"Myself," she said quietly.

Spike stood up, pulling her up with him. "C'mon. I think you need to go talk to Giles. If you're getting all... you know, cutting yourself up, there's something wrong."

Buffy pulled her hand back. "I didn't try to do it to myself. Not... I mean, I'm not all depressed. Actually, I guess I am, but I wasn't trying to hurt myself. It's kind of a long story."

Spike stared at her, unbelieving.

She sighed. "Remember those demons we fought the other night? Well, one of them was a possessing demon, I think called Scarral. Yeah, well, it possessed me. Not sure how. Made me try to kill myself. Angel kept me from doing anything... too serious. Unfortunately, being Slayer and all, I managed to get away from him a couple of times."

Spike stared at her. "Are you okay? Are you sure you don't need a doctor or anything?"

Buffy shut him up with another kiss.

"My mom's going to be home soon," she said quietly. "Maybe... maybe we should take this someplace else."

"I still got chains over at my place," Spike said wickedly, raising his eyebrows.

"Ew! No way!" Buffy said disgustedly. "Don't be gross. Besides, I've had enough with being chained to beds for the weekend." They walked downstairs.

"Wait a minute," Spike said. "You were chained to some other guy's bed? Okay, I take back the you not being a slut part."

"Spike!" Buffy warned.

"What? I like sluts!" he said defensively. "Well, I like you anyhow." He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer. They stood that way, right in the entry foyer, trading passionate kisses back and forth.

Willow nearly threw up. "A-hem," she coughed, alerting her presence.

Spike and Buffy jumped apart guiltily, only then noticing Willow standing in the doorway.

"Willow!" Buffy exclaimed. "What... uh... what are you doing here?"

"Saving you from Spike?" Willow suggested. "I mean... well, that's not why I'm here, but maybe it should be."

"No, no!" Buffy said quickly. "Spike and I... uh..."

"Okay, you two just sit tight," Willow said quickly. "I'll call Giles. We'll find whoever cast the spell, don't worry. I mean, maybe it's just another will-be-done spell all over again."

Spike snickered. "Don't think so," he said.

"Wil, it's for real this time," Buffy said gently.

Willow stepped away from her. "Are you still possessed by that demon or something? I mean, this could be, like, the ultimate way to harm yourself!"

Buffy laughed. "No, I'm not possessed. No, it's not a spell. Spike's... it's for real this time, like he said."

Willow stared back and forth, clearly at a loss. "Did I... Did I miss something?"

"Yep," Spike confirmed. "Lots."

Willow nodded, fighting off a panic attack, and turned to Buffy. "I came because Xander woke up," she said.

Buffy jumped up happily. "Yes! Alright! How's he doing? He okay?"

Willow nodded. "Yeah, he's doing better. Completely un-possessed. Unfortunately, he's having a hard time convincing the doctors he's not still suicidal. They said that physically, he'll probably be ready to go home tomorrow, but they're not sure they can release him until the mental thing is taken care of."

Buffy frowned. "Hmm. Well... maybe if you and I and Anya and everybody go and say that he's not? Suicidal, I mean."

Willow shook her head. "No. Already tried that. But I'm sure he'll get out... sooner or later."

Buffy smiled sadly. "Guess so. Is he by himself right now?"

"No," Willow said. "Anya's hanging out with him. They needed some alone time. She's a little... er... pissed that I didn't call her right away."

"You didn't call Anya?" Buffy asked.

Willow grinned sheepishly. "Yeah. Well... I mean... I was worried! Distraught! How was I supposed to remember that?"

"Gee, she's his girlfriend," Spike said pointedly. "But maybe you still got a thing for him."

"Shut up, Spike," Buffy said, shooting him a look. She turned around to face him. "You know, if this is gonna work between us, you gotta stop treating my friends like dirt! I mean... well, frankly, if I was going to chose between you and Wil right now, I'd choose Wil."

Spike looked hurt. "What? It's in my nature! Can I help what kind of... non-person I am?"

Buffy smiled. "I guess not. Just... don't make fun of them, okay?"

Spike nodded. "Yeah, alright, I guess. I'll try to remember that." He leaned in closer, smiling playfully. "Do I get a kiss?"

"No," Buffy said pointedly. She turned back to Willow. "Anyway, do you think I should go visit him?"

Willow was still trying to take in the "moment" she'd just witnessed. "Uh... yeah... no... I mean... maybe tomorrow. I'd let Anya spend as much time with him as she can right now. Maybe she'll be a little less... well, you know... tomorrow." She hesitated as Spike wrapped his arms around Buffy from behind. "You know, maybe you guys just want me to leave right now. Frankly, I think I might puke if I don't."

Buffy looked hurt. "Willow... I know this is... strange. To tell you the truth, I don't even get it. But... well... I mean..."

"No, it's okay," Willow said, although her face said the exact opposite. "You guys just... I'll just go now."

Buffy nodded. "Okay. Well... I'll stop by the hospital tomorrow, then."

Willow nodded. "Yeah. Seeya." She left, shutting the door carefully behind her.

"She looks freaked," Buffy said worriedly.

"Why does that matter?" Spike asked, turning her around to face him. "Buffy, they'll get it sooner or later. I know I've... I know they don't like me very much, but... well, they'll figure it out."

"She's my best friend, Spike," Buffy said. "And frankly, this is happening a little too fast for me too. I think I need some time to figure things out. Why don't you head home now?"

"That's not what you were saying a few minutes ago!" Spike protested, not letting go of her.

"Well, let's just say I've come to my senses," Buffy said, angrily shoving his arms off of her.

Spike shrugged. "Whatever. Look, I'll be at the crypt. I hope your senses side with me." He brushed past her and outside.

Buffy sighed, frustrated, and flopped down on the couch.

Willow quickly shut the door behind her, then leaned up against it, feeling faint. Buffy and *Spike*? For *real*? Not just a spell?

She took off, running as fast as she could to Giles' house.

Spike slammed the door behind him. He leaned up against it, running his fingers through his hair. How could this girl make him lose it like this?

He shuddered angrily and started walking away, back home. It wasn't fair. Who did she think she was? To just... brush him off like that, and after the passionate kisses she'd supplied just moments before.

Part Eleven

"Giles!" Willow called fearfully, throwing open the door. "Giles! Come on, it's an emergency!"

Giles hurried down the stairs in his robe. He stopped at the bottom and put his hands out to steady Willow. "What is it? Is everyone alright?" he asked, alarmed.

Willow shook her head frantically. "No. No, it's Buffy. She's... she and Spike..."

Giles stared at her. "Has he attacked her? Come, we have to go help!"

Willow shook her head again, still slightly out of breath. "No! No, they're not fighting; it's worse! They're... they're... they're *kissing*, Giles!"

Giles stared at her. "Willow, have you been doing--"

"No!" she exclaimed. "I don't know what's going on! They say they're not under any kind of influence, that it's real, but... but, Giles, come on! I mean, it's Buffy! And *Spike*!"

Giles nodded, sitting down on the arm of the couch. "Yes, I do see what you mean." He shrugged. "Well, Spike has the chip in his head now. He can't hurt her..."

Willow could tell from the tone of his voice that he thought otherwise. "Giles... we have to *do* something! This isn't... it's not normal! It's not... something has to be wrong! I mean... Giles! We're talking about Buffy kissing *Spike*!"

"What?" Angel asked angrily, stepping into the house. "Spike kissed Buffy? Willow... what?"

Willow and Giles jumped.

"Oh my God!" Willow exclaimed, relieved to see it was just Angel.

"I really *must* start locking that door," Giles muttered. "Angel? What are you doing here?"

Angel ignored him, instead addressing Willow. "Could you please... repeat that? Buffy and... Spike?"

Willow nodded. "I know. Sorry. I mean, for you that must be... well, anyhow, yeah. Kind of... weird. I admit, I'm a little freaked out over it."

Angel nodded. "Yeah, it's definitely... strange..." Suddenly a thought occurred to him, and he winced.

"What?" Willow asked, noticing his reaction.

"Nothing," Angel said quickly. "Willow, I really need to see Buffy right away. Is she at her house?"

"Yeah," Willow nodded.

Angel took off, running back to his car, hoping he could get to Buffy's house before she did something she'd regret.

Willow stared after him for a moment, then shrugged. "Well, I guess that's it," she said, shutting the door behind him. "It looks like Angel will take care of it. Ooh, maybe he'll stake Spike!"

Giles rolled his eyes. "Yes... well..."

Buffy jumped off the couch when she heard someone pounding on the front door.

Buffy moved cautiously toward the door, looking for some kind of weapon.

The door swung open, and she jumped forward, tackling the intruder to the floor.

"Ow!" he yelled, throwing her off of him.

Buffy sat back, recognizing Angel. "What are you doing here?" she asked angrily. She stood and helped him to his feet.

Angel stared angrily around. "Where is he?"

"What?" she asked, oblivious.

"Spike," he growled.

Buffy sighed. "Leave Spike alone, Angel. What's your problem? And what are you doing here?"

"Is he here?" Angel asked angrily.

"Spike? No," Buffy said, now bewildered. "Angel, what's going on?"

Angel sighed. "Good. I'm glad. You kicked him out. That's good."

"What are you talking about? You think you could give me a straight answer this time?" Buffy requested angrily.

"I came by to apologize," Angel started. "I came back to. I mean... I'm really sorry. I... what I said, it was horrible. Unforgivable. I was... angry. And afraid. But... Buffy, I... I don't think of you that way at all. I know it's not true, and I know..." He sighed. "I don't know what else to say. Please... you don't have to forgive me. Fine. I deserve it. But don't... don't believe it. About yourself."

Buffy turned away for a moment. "Why'd you come by my house? This couldn't wait? Or a phone call, or something?" She struggled to regain her composure.

Angel put a hand on her shoulder, and she turned around again. "I had to tell you in person. And... also... well..." He hesitated. "Willow said you were kissing Spike, and I worried--"

"What?" Buffy said angrily. "She... and you...?" She took a deep breath. "I know you didn't come by to scare him off," she said dangerously, daring him to correct her.

"I did," Angel admitted.

Buffy punched him in the nose as hard as she could. "Get out of my life!" she screamed. "Stop it! You... you... you hurt me, and then you come back here and expect to *control me*?! This is my town, my life, my friends! Not yours! So leave! Angel... just leave!"

Angel staggered back, holding his nose. She'd hit him hard. Blood spurted from a cut in the top, and he worried that it was broken. Oh well. It would heal. The fact that she'd had to hit him hurt more than the wound itself.

Buffy saw the blood and his pain, and hesitantly stepped forward. "Angel... Angel, I'm sorry." She dropped the angry-woman act and slowly pulled his hands away from his face. She winced when she saw his nose. It was already purple and swollen. "Ouch. Sorry." She led him out to the kitchen. "Let's get that cleaned up."

Angel followed her obediently, not sure of what to say.

Buffy ran a paper towel under the faucet, then started to wipe away the blood on his face. Neither of them spoke, although Angel winced and grunted occasionally when she pressed too hard with the towel.

Buffy backed off, throwing the blood-soaked towel in the garbage.

"Better," she said half-heartedly.

Angel stood up straighter. "Buffy, we can never be together as long as I'm a vampire," he said.

"Yeah? Angel, I kinda already knew that," she reminded him.

"Do you love Spike?" he asked, looking away from her, his expression pained.

Buffy sighed. "I don't know. I don't... I mean, I do, but... not like I love you. If you're asking me to choose..."

"No," Angel said, shaking his head. "You don't have to do that. Not now. I mean... well... there's just... I think I need to tell you a couple of things. First of all, what happened last November. Second, something that we found since then. A prophecy."

Buffy stared at him. "You're going to tell me? For real, not just another story...?"

Angel nodded. "Why don't we sit down? This might take awhile."

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Okay, I felt like I needed to explain a couple of things that you may have picked up on.

First of all, why didn't Spike turn human when the Mohra demon's blood mixed with his? I couldn't think of a way to explain this in the story, but the reason is because the Scarral demon, in its liquid form, was mixed in with the puddle of Mohra blood. It diluted the blood. Therefore, it healed the cut, but Spike was still undead.

How did Buffy (and the others) get possessed by the Scarral demon? Answer: For Xander and Buffy, it was because of the puddle of Mohra blood that the demon mixed in with. Spike picked up some, and poured it on Xander's throat. The Scarral demon possessed Xander, and the Mohra blood healed the cut. Some of it also got into the cuts on Spike's hands, possessing him. But before it could take control, he kissed Buffy, and passed it on to her.

Who else got possessed?

***
"Yep," Edna said, her tone sounding much more crisp and business-like now. "Let's see... okay, a couple of things. One, the attempted suicide from late last night? Remember, the bottle of Advil and all the cuts and bruises? Okay. I'm sorry, but he flat-lined five minutes ago. You'll need to talk to the parents as soon as we find them."
***

This person (let's call him "Adam") was a teenage druggie. He and his friends would go to the old high school to party. He probably made contact with the demon then.

***
And last of all... okay, we've had three people, paramedics, walk in with cuts and bruises, saying they couldn't control themselves or something like that. One of them slit his wrist ten minutes ago, and Casper said you'd want to take a look at the guys."
***

The paramedics were the ones who treated Xander. But if he passed it on to them, why did Xander also get possessed? Because Xander didn't pass it onto them. Remember, paramedics, medical personnel, they wear gloves when they treat people. So they didn't get it from him. Actually, they probably stepped in the puddle when they were inside.

And what's up with Dr. Fielson? How come he's only getting called down for suicides? Because he's the resident psychologist, not a surgeon or other medical doctor.

Lastly, Giles' whole trip to Harry Blackforth's. Why did it take him so long to get there? Because his car crashed into the barrier. It had to be towed. That's also why Giles was in Cordy's vision. And why couldn't he return after dark? Harry Blackforth is kind of the American version of Giles, except that he's a lot more eccentric. His estate is wired so that absolutely nobody can get in or out after dark, to protect from vampires' attacks.

On to It's All In The Timing