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18. Becoming II.

The sun was shining too brightly for a day on which to bury a young, beautiful and lively woman like Jenny Calendar …Jenna from the Calderash clan.
There weren’t a lot of people at her funeral: some colleagues, a couple of girlfriends from out of town. And a tall man, dressed in a weird way, with a curious hat. He had introduced himself as her uncle, Enyos, and he had pronounced over her grave some strange words in some even stranger foreign language.
And he had watched them.
Willow and Buffy felt uneasy under that deep, dark stare. Giles was suffering too much to notice them, to notice their – oh, so obvious – excitement at the enormity of what they had dared.
But that man with the funny hat…ah, he knew.
They had still to find out whether he was there to make them pay…or to thank them.
Now, all of them were still too shocked from pain to talk, all gathered around the grave dug in the soft springtime earth, while the polished coffin of a young, beautiful, talented woman was lowered down inexorably into the dark dirt. A whole life chock full of wasted opportunities.
A long long shiver shook Buffy, while reminding her of the dark words of menace from Spike: she didn’t fear him, she never had, but this time…something in his eyes had warned her that she was playing with fire. The black fire of Evil, the real thing. And that she would pay, if only she dared to go near to him…to Angelus…near to them…
There will be no need for that, Buffy smiled, pleased with herself. It will be him who comes to me. I just need to wait for him to recover, to get used to that pesky soul. And Spike won’t be able to do a thing about it…
The ceremony ended as quietly as it had begun. Giles leaned over to Buffy and took one of her hands between his.
“I couldn’t have stood this without you…without all of you. Buffy…I’m helpless. And I don’t know how to get justice for her. Who did this? Who dared to murder a wonderful woman like…”
“We’ll find him” Buffy lied. “We’ll look for him, and I’ll kill him”
Enyos came closer to them, and the girl shivered.
“There’s nothing more for me here” the stranger said. “I’m happy to see Jenna had friends…she was a wonderful woman, you’re right, Mr. Giles. Her battle, at least, is over”
The man watched Willow and Buffy, cuddled together.
“Children too can use a loaded weapon…and the bullet won’t be less lethal for that. But you need extraordinary wisdom and balance to handle forces you know nothing about”
The man went away without any other comment. Shocked, Willow and Buffy raised their eyes guiltily to Giles
But Giles was crying, and he didn’t notice a thing.



”Would you like me to stay with you, Mr. Giles?” Cordelia asked quietly, while Oz and Willow talked and Buffy and Xander had some sort of hasty conversation. The undertakers had already left.
“Yes, I’d be grateful for that” the watcher answered, feeling at ease with Cordy’s sincere compassion. She was a singular girl, beautiful and witty, popular and one–of–a-kind…and not stupid at all. In that terrible moment, her inner strength calmed him more than the secret but almost tangible animosity running between Oz and Xander, and surely more than the strange vibes Buffy and Willow emanated, which he had noticed, eventually, notwithstanding the deep pain he was in.
He would have to know: some event had obviously disturbed the group’s balance…and he ascribed that to some not so secret affair: at the moment, he had neither the strength, nor the interest to investigate.
He accepted Cordy’s proposal nevertheless, and the two of them walked toward his sancta sanctorum, the Sunnydale High Library.
Oz was almost silent, while Willow tried to talk with him: he was still deeply hurt by her treachery, which she had not denied in any way.
“We’ll talk about it, Oz?” she begged for the umpteenth time, her heart broken by his open refusal.
“Maybe, but not now” he retorted, as politely as possible. “So many things have happened…and this funeral …let me think about it with a straight mind. I have to spend some days in Monterey…we have a gig there…when I am back I’ll see how I feel. But I can’t make any promises now, Will”
She nodded, her eyes full of tears. She knew it, deep in her heart: she had lost him. Oh, God…how could she accept it?
Wasn’t there any spell to make him forget…to make both him and Cordy forget? If only she could have turned time back…
“He’ll forgive you” Buffy told Xander. “Nothing can stop true love. I know it”
“You’re dead wrong” replied her ex – boyfriend, no longer delusional. “Cordy won’t forgive me. And I get it…really, I do. I didn’t react any differently with you. God, what a shock! I didn’t know it hurt so much…”
“I’m sorry” Buffy said, thinking sadly that she hadn’t suffered that much when Xander had broken with her. But then, she had been involved in that troublesome triangle…Spike…and Angelus…
“Come, my dearest” her soul begged. “Angelus…come to me…let’s enjoy our love…our passion…”
How much time did he need to get used to his soul, damn it! Since the spell, a day and a half had already passed!
“Let’s go” Willow said, taking her girlfriend by the arm and exchanging a sorry glance with Xander. Their attraction, both physical and emotional, had vanished all of a sudden, like snow in the heat. Now, all that it was left of it was a sort of sad discomfort.
Buffy followed her quietly. It was almost time for the bell, and she felt so tired, suddenly…she could go home and get some rest…maybe. Angelus won’t come before night, she thought. The events of the past day had taken their toll and the only thing she could think about was the moment she would have her love with her again… The temptation to send Spike to hell and go directly to the mansion was very strong.
Willow’s voice, so deep and sweet, intruded in her thoughts. “I couldn’t ask you before, but…have you had any news about him?”
Buffy nodded, strolling with her girlfriend along the Restfield’s sunny paths. How different those places looked now, under the sunlight! It seemed incredible that she ran there every night. Not far from here, there was the small lake where she had sat with Spike during a night which seemed now so remote to her …
“The spell worked fine” she revealed “Angelus got his soul back…and I believe he’s in deep pain. But he’ll get better soon…and he’ll come back to me”
“Have you seen him?”
“No…Spike came”
“And…”
“He was mad at me. He threatened to kill me if I mixed again in their pathetic lives…He said I’m dangerous…I have defeated Angelus…He really doesn’t get it!”
“Don’t underrate him” Willow warned her. “You told me William the Bloody may be a dangerous enemy”
“Indeed, I’m not looking for him. I’ll wait for Angelus, instead. I know he’ll come: this night at latest”
Buffy took Willow’s hands, before leaving. “Be careful, Will. They could guess you’re involved, somehow. They could make you pay. Don’t let anybody enter your home. Don’t go out at night”
“Right. I’ll follow your advice” Willow reassured her. “Be careful yourself. Give me a sign if you get any news”
“Good” Buffy kissed Willow on the forehead. “I really care about you. Without you, I couldn’t have saved Angelus…both times. You’re an extraordinary witch. Your power is limitless”
“Indeed” Willow smiled. “Very impressive, isn’t it?”
They parted ways, eventually at ease. Buffy was convinced Willow would be able to fix any problem that could arise. Willow was empowered by that idea; she had been strong, powerful, invincible. What did it matter if Oz had left her? If Xander didn’t dare to look her in the eyes anymore? She would cry tomorrow…
Now was the moment to celebrate her power. Absently, she took her keys from the small backpack, and opened the window that led to her room.
A strong arm snaked below her neck, pulling her towards a strong chest.
A whisper caressed her ears. Cool lips slid down the column of her neck, not without causing a long shiver, not a totally unpleasant one, on her soft skin.
“Welcome home…sweetie. Now, be a good girl…and let me in”

With shaky fingers Willow tried to open the lock. The stranger’s right hand fell on her, his long, thin fingers entwined with hers, and he helped her. The lock clicked.
“You must invite me, pet” he whispered, always holding her still, splayed across his chest.
“Come in” she shivered, terrified. And aroused.
The thin barrier dissolved. Willow and the stranger went in, and he closed the door behind him with a kick. She stared at him, her large eyes made larger by fear.
And by something else, a sort of dark enchantment, which she couldn’t decipher.
“You are…” she started, words too dense to melt in her throat.
He tilted his head, and smiled. His blue eyes shone in that yellowish afternoon glow, only partially dimmed by the thin curtains. “Someone you’re in debt to, luv”
“Will…William” she stuttered, staring at his peculiar face…peculiar and unforgettable.
“She called me that?” he smiled. “It doesn’t surprise me. She always had some trouble accepting reality, our little Buffy. She fucked vampires but, God, no one had to know it! We were people, in her eyes…people with bad teeth, and nasty tendencies…small wicked imperfections…she had to take care of those, quickly, in order to make us fit in better at the Prom…”
“I…I don’t…”
“Stay still” Spike warned her, as soon as she moved. “Stay perfectly still. You’re as guilty as she is…maybe more. You put the stake in her hand…and she used it. Twice. Do you dare to think I don’t know why Buffy gave him her blood? To save him? Hell, how naïve do you both think we are?”
“You’ll…kill me?”
“It could be” he laughed “It could be, pet. Let me see if you can make me change my ideas about you”
She paled. His elusive stance, his sarcastic smile terrified her. And they made her panties wet, too, like in a bad horror movie.
“There’s something you can do for me, baby” he smiled again, closing the distance between them and running a finger on the creamy expanse of her neck. A long, almost painful contact. She closed her eyes and parted her lips. Spike lowered his head, closer to her, close enough to feel her breath on his face.
“How accommodating will you be to me…. mmm?”


Angelus smashed the door with a kick.
He didn’t need an invitation to enter, and he didn’t wait for it.
“Get out” he spat to the man sitting on the sofa, next to her. “Me and Darla need to talk”
Delighted by his ardor, Darla raised her chin and smiled. A slow, long smile, such as you could expect from an expert predator, one of those smiles he loved. Angelus looked down: he almost couldn’t stand anymore to look at her.
“Man, get out of here” he repeated, while the young man in Armani and tie next to her got up. He wasn’t tall, but sturdy, and strong. His blue eyes stared at the vampire without fear, with a quiet daring.
“Angelus, I guess” he smiled, and his Texan accent caressed the vampire’s ears. “We were waiting for you”



Darla noticed it then. Several minutes had passed, and Angelus hadn’t killed Lindsey yet. God, that was weird…what in the hell had happened to him?
His looks, first of all. He was in a horrible state. Angelus had always been a dandy, he loved nice clothes, sensual fabrics, he took care of his skin, he used perfumes, hair gel and all that could make him perfect…and as seductive as the Devil himself.
The man, the vampire she had in front of her now was his own shadow. Shocked, hair unkempt, skin marred by hickeys and burns, a dirty burnt shirt on, too many fingers had run through that hair…
And his eyes, those splendid, deep, burning eyes…never so beautiful before¸ so full of painful life…
“Angelus..” she breathed, while a nameless terror seized her heart, which had not beaten for too long .
“Lindsey…I beg you…leave us alone”
“No” he replied. “You could be in danger, Darla, and…”
“Lindsey!” she shouted “Get out”
The lawyer looked at her with…pity. He knew well what would hit her in a few seconds…and he would have given his right hand to spare her this pain. Literally.
But he couldn’t. He loved her, but he didn’t make a part of her history yet…as the vampire did. Angelus.
The two men exchanged stares. The vampire’s eyes, so intense, fell on the young, handsome face of the lawyer. Lindsey backed off. This Angelus version 2.0 didn’t look any less dangerous than the original. He had better not underrate him.
Angelus and Darla stared at each other, now alone.
“I knew it. I knew you would come back. To me” she smiled. “I always knew it. Those were just umpteen flirting quarrels…I just don't know why it took so long this time, my dear boy”
“Darla” he whispered, kneeling, eyes level with her face. “I’m not your dear boy anymore”
He didn’t say it with hate. He didn’t say it with irony.
He said it with an emotion similar to regret. That made Darla turn paler.
“What has happened?” she murmured, fighting not to panic. The change was there, oh – so – evident, nevertheless, if only she could have pretended a little longer…
“Darla..” he repeated, and he caressed her hair. “Oh, how much I’d rather have things going on as usual…let me stay here with you…a bit…Darla…tell me the world is ours…”
She leaned into his hand. With horror, she noticed he was crying.
That was filthy, she felt it with all of herself, something breaking inside her…and she acted in consequence. She pushed him away with all of her strength.
Angelus flew to the other side of the room, legs up, smashing into the wall, burning tears on his face.
There was no more home for him, not even in her deep cold womb. Darla’s womb, her sire’s.
God and Devil had both abandoned him.


“I killed” he whispered, unable to shed the abjection. She was still on the sofa, and stared at him with burning eyes.
“We killed, Angelus. Thousands of times” she whispered. “And it was perfect”
“It was a perfect desperation. And it was as if it had happened millions of times” he replied, eyes lost in space. “Too many…too many to stand. Too often not only to feed. And would you guess? The last time weighs on my heart more then the others. She was beautiful, pure…strong. And I killed her, I smothered her, for fear of this…”
“What is this…what makes you a stranger to me?” Darla enquired.
“To feel again…and to suffer…so much that I…”
Darla rose and leaned over to him, touching him with the point of her feet. “It was the slayer, uh? She cast some spell? You’re still…one of us?”
Angelus flashed his game face without effort. “Yes. Isn’t that some sort of poetic justice? Being one of us…and not being it anymore, at the same time”
“Angelus…you’re telling me that…”
Horror – stricken, Darla took a stake from the desk, one of Faith's leftovers.
He stared at her without fear. Almost… with hope.
“Dust me, Darla…and let's end this freak show. Yesterday I tried to run into the sun, but Spike stopped me. Later, I lost my courage. Let’s end this set and match, Darla…too long it has been going on, between us, since that night in Galway. What I have inside now burns too much. Too much to stand it”
“You…got…your soul…back?”
Angelus had a fit of laughter.
And then he cried.
Darla stayed still, the stake only inches from his heart, ready to kill this abomination who tortured her flesh.
Unable to do so.
“I knew it” Angelus whispered. Painfully, he rose and stared at her. “That was not the reason I came, indeed. I’m hardly connecting, now…but I know there’s something to be done. Spike. And Dru. You have to take care of them….they’re my childes….and I can’t…I can’t any more…”
Darla was crying, too. Terrible tears to be seen on the face of the cold goddess.
“And you…are you going back to her? To the woman who made you this?”
Angelus didn’t answer. He bent and placed a kiss on Darla’s fair head, she was so physically like the other, and yet so different…
“Maybe I found a solution” he murmured. “It’s Jenny’s blood that sings it to me…”
Without any words, more devastated than she had ever thought possible, Darla watched him going away in the falling night. She asked herself, idly, if the soul could be contagious.




“It's after sunset” Cordelia noticed, looking outside the window, over the campus green.
“I’ll get you home” Giles said “You’ve been so kind to stay with me all day long…I’m very grateful”
“I needed some distraction. To catalogue your books in chronological order worked fine. This is not a good moment, Mr. Giles…and I’m not even talking about what happened to poor Miss Calendar…”
Giles struggled to concentrate on anything which was not his pain. “What happened, Cordelia? I had the feeling you had quarreled”
“You really don’t know?” Cordy hissed. “I thought we were the news of the day”
“I know Xander dumped Buffy…for you. But I believed that was over”
“Oh, that's ancient history” she exclaimed. “The burning news is that Xander made out with Willow…at mine and Oz’s expense”
“Uh?”
“You didn’t know, I see. Pure, innocent Willow…don’t you know, Mr. Giles, still waters destroy bridges?”
“Our Willow? With Xander?”
“Yeah…and I’m quite certain you wouldn’t like to know the details of when I found them together, in this same library”
“I really beg to be spared”
“Xander and Oz are barely on speaking terms….me and Willow…well, let’s say we never were friends…and now she's got very close to Buffy. It all stems from her, after all…when she banged that guy…”
“UH?” Giles repeated, this time stronger. “Buffy…what?”
“Oops” Cordelia exclaimed. “Pretend you never heard me say anything”
“Buffy had …a lover?” Giles insisted, not believing a single word, and nevertheless…”That was the reason Xander broke with her?”
“Got it right. A strange guy, an Englishman. Bleached hair, witty mouth…quite a hottie, to be honest…a major hottie, actually”
Giles had a sort of sad foreshadowing.
He had in his watcher’s diary one of the only photos of one William the Bloody, slayer of slayers.
Bleached hair, British.
He took it and showed it to Cordy.
“That’s him?”
She looked at the photo with attention. “Hair is shorter, now…but…it looks a lot like him. No, I’m certain about it: that’s him. Killer cheekbones, tasty mouth…I couldn’t get wrong. When it comes to men, I’m the slayer”
“Cordy, this photo dates from 1974” Giles whispered, mortally serious.
“What?! 1974? That’s not possible, Mr. Giles, the guy is not even thirty, I’m sure…”
The Watcher and the girl exchanged glances. The same idea. Too horrible even to be taken into consideration.
“Oh, my God!” she faltered, bringing her hands to her mouth.
She couldn’t finish her thought. Someone entered the library, cruelly swinging the doors open.
Cordelia stayed open mouthed.
The most beautiful man she ever had seen in her life had just entered the room.
And he looked like he was escaping from a shipwreck.



“Are you Buffy’s watcher? I need help”
“That’s obvious. Hello, salty goodness!” Cordy said, stepping towards him. “My, you’re in a pitiful state. Sit down, I’ll bring you some soda”
“Cordy, be careful” Giles warned her. “Who are you…and what do you want from us? Do you know Buffy?”
Angelus sat on a chair, and stared at them, opening his hands as in a gesture of offering. “I don’t have any bad intentions. Not towards you…not towards the girl. I just need to talk…maybe you’re the only one who can help me.”
Cordy stared at him. Tall, perfectly built, broad shoulders, naturally elegant and hot¸ notwithstanding the state of his clothes. And involved with Buffy? Yet another secret lover? God, she hoped not! “I’d say we can help him, can’t we, Mr. Giles? That’s our mission, isn’t it? Help the helpless, and all that rot…”
“Cordy, take your bag, call a taxi and go home” Giles replied. The visitor didn’t reassure him at all.
“And miss this? Not in your dreams!” she quipped.
“Then, take the crossbow and a cross!”
The girl’s eyed widened: could he be a vampire? Another one? She ran to take the objects Giles had indicated.
“And you, sir…talk”
Angelus sighed, letting his head fall on the table, exhausted. Giles watched him silently.
“I killed” he said. “And I can’t live with it”
“I’m not a priest…and not the police, either” Giles admitted with gritted teeth. “Why did you come to me?”
Angelus raised his head. “Maybe there’s something in your books…something to dissolve what's wrong inside of me…”
“What the hell is he talking about?” Cordelia quipped again.
“Indeed, what are you talking about?” Giles investigated. “I don’t know what you know about Buffy, but…”
“Buffy is the vampire slayer” Angelus laughed, until his laughter broke in a sigh. “And a very efficient one…believe me. She gave to me, instead of taking…she succeeded in an accomplishment that has never been attempted before ”
“He’s a vampire?” Cordy asked. “Damn it, always the hottest ones…”
Giles took the crossbow from her hands…and he pointed it at the vampire’s heart.
“Tell me again why you are here”
“I need this soul taken away”
“What the hell are you…”
“I got my soul back” Angelus repeated. “Jenny Calendar planned to give it to me. I had killed a girl of her clan, the daughter of the king of Rom, in Paris…and they wanted me to pay for that. A soul, for a vampire, only has this value…a source of endless pain. And she almost succeeded…almost…If only…”
“If only…” Giles’ eyes hardened. He got it now. The conclusion of that tale. And he didn’t like it at all.
“If only I hadn’t stopped her”
Giles’ finger caressed the trigger.
“Take my soul away, Mr. Giles…there’s not a single cell of me which can stand it. And then kill me. In that way there will eventually be peace…for me”
That was a plea, if there was one. From the depths of a tortured heart.
But was that plea addressed to the worst person in the world…or to the fittest?
“If Jenny…you killed her, didn’t you?”
“Yes" Angelus admitted.
“Then…who gave you your soul back?”
“Do you really care?”
Giles shook his head. His jaw set, he stared at his woman’s killer.
“The only thing I care about, now, is dusting you”
He shot the arrow.


The library telephone rang. And then it rang again.
“Nobody is answering” Willow whispered, giving it to her guard. Spike took it in his hand, he listened to the monotonous sound, and then he put it back on its cradle.
“We’ll try later” he said, suddenly in a good mood. The little witch was revealing herself as an interesting companion. She had listened to his tales with an almost morbid interest, and he would have found her terrified glances interestingly arousing if only…if only he hadn’t detested her so much.
“Is this a good point?” He asked, laying again on her bed. “Dawn is not so far away…darkness fell a long time ago”
“I…I need Giles. I can’t, all by myself. But…”she hastened, seeing his threatening glance. “I've got all the necessary materials with me”
“Good. We'll call later. Now, come here"
Willow obeyed without faltering. Spike made her sit next to him, and he caressed her cheek. “You’re not playing any dirty tricks on me, are you, witch?”
“No, I’m not” she replied. “Do you want…Do you want to talk about them…again?” She was fascinated by his tales, which opened a window on a world she had only touched until then.
“What for?” he asked, lowering his head next to hers to breathe in her hair’s perfume. “Very soon, all of this will be over”
“But…your girlfriend? How do you think she …”
Spike smiled. “Soon, we won’t have any problems left. All will be resolved”


Payback was a bitch…but thank God all of this would be over. Soon.
Angelus lowered his eyes, enough to see the arrow piercing his chest.
Some millimeters too low. Damn it, the Watcher had missed the target!
The vampire grasped the arrow by the end and extracted it. His rich, dark blood stained his already ruined shirt. Giles took aim again.
“Touch that trigger again and she dies”
Giles followed the sound of the voice. Two female vampires, game face on, held Cordelia in between them, ready to devour her.
“Darla…Dru…” Angelus threw his head back, dead tired. He felt, suddenly, all his 250 plus years, not one less, and he didn’t like that feeling at all. What else to expect, after all? In the last two days he had lived to suffer. Awfully.
“Let her go. I don’t care about dying. He’s got the right to kill me”
“Don’t be silly, love” Darla replied. “I didn’t spare you to have you killed by this dork”
“Darla…I beg you…”
“Grandma is inflexible. You’ll come back with us and you won’t feel the cold anymore…daddy. We’ll be a family again”
Giles lowered the crossbow. This farce was lasting a bit too long.
Angelus rose and stepped towards his women. He raised a hand and held it out to the girl.
Cordelia was terrified…but instinctively took it. He brought her close to his chest, out of reach of the two vampires.
“She comes with me” he said. “I’ll take her home…and you…my dear ladies…go straight to hell”
Darla and Dru, unbelievingly, gazed at him. They were there to save him. They had protected him, just as…just as they knew he would have protected them…given the necessity. And he was sending them to hell?
Dru started to cry. Darla stiffened. She had fought against the evidence…but no more. She had to accept horrible reality.
“He’ll come back to us” she lied to her companion, trying to hide her shock. “He doesn’t know anything else in the world. He has no place to go. He has nothing but us”
Dru nodded, but tears ran down from her big violet eyes.
Angelus took Cordelia by the hand and ran outside with her. The girl, more intrigued than worried, didn’t protest. Giles felt impotent and stayed there, watching the two vampires leave. He locked himself in, too shocked to react.
Only a moment later he noticed: the telephone was ringing.
When he picked the phone up, it was too late. They had rung off.


“Hey, hands off!” Cordelia ordered, loosing herself from his grip. “There’s no more danger…is there? Really? You won’t get grr arghh now, will you?”
“No, I won’t” he sighed, exhausted by tiredness and pain. “I wouldn’t advise you to stay around Buffy”
“Because she is a vampire slayer?”
“Among other things” Angelus brought her to the back gate of the beautiful and stylish villa where she lived, and stared at her while she was fishing in her bag for her keys. “You seem to me a level-headed girl, with quite a dash of good sense. Forget monsters, vampires…and things that go bump in the night”
“And you…Mister…forget suicidal tendencies” she offered. “If Mr. Giles sees you again…he won’t miss next time”
“I know”
“I don’t understand a single thing about your problems…I just can’t get what it means to be a vampire with a soul. But I know there are better things in life than deciding to die. I’d start with avoiding Mr. Giles. And your girlfriends with fangs”
“That’s probably good advice” he admitted. “I hope not to see you again”
“Thanks for the compliment” she smiled, pretty happy…and intrigued. Ooookay…he was a super duper hottie. And as sexy as hell. And dangerous.
God, she didn’t need that kind of problem. She hoped as well not to meet him again. She had a whole life in front of her: graduate, marry Brad Pitt and become a star. She felt it in her bones.
And, most of all, forget all about Sunnydale, Buffy Summers, and things that go bump in the night.
Even when they…those things…had such pain in their eyes…pain she couldn’t ignore.
“Sleep tight, Miss Chase” he smiled despite himself¸ reading the name on the bell.
“Cordelia” she corrected him.
“Good night, Cordelia”
Angelus vanished, as if he had been devoured by the darkness. She thought he looked like a fallen angel.


“Hallo?” Giles whispered into the phone, which was ringing. Again. He was still shocked about what had happened with Angelus. In his amazement, he hadn’t even tried to follow Cordelia and the vampire. Probably, it wouldn’t have helped her, but…God, he had abandoned the girl in Jenny’s killer's hands! Just because he proclaimed himself redeemed….
“Mr. Giles, it’s me” Cordelia announced, lively. “I’m at home, safe and sound in my room. That guy has gone…it’s over”
“Good…I don’t know how you could forgive me…Cordelia…I should have never let you go alone, in the night, with a vampire…a vampire who killed…”
“Jenny, I know” Cordelia replied. “He seemed…so repented. So ready to die. Isn’t it weird? Who could have given him his soul back?”
“I don’t know” Giles pondered. “Maybe that strange type…Jenny’s uncle"
“Do you really believe he could have…changed? The vampire, I mean. And then…who the hell was he?”
”Angelus, Europe’s Scourge. One of the most dangerous vampire who ever walked this Earth"
“Uh – uh” Cordy replied, absent–mindedly. “You know, maybe you should think about this. A good vampire could be of use to Buffy”
“Buffy!” Giles shouted “I need to tell her everything. Now. I need to call her!”
“She’ll kill him, if you tell her what happened”
“And then that would be bad because…” Giles replied coldly.
Cordelia had nothing to oppose that. He was a monster…and Jenny’s killer. Among his other victims. As any other vampire. She thought about her friend Harmony, found bloodless in the trash, dead at seventeen. She shivered.
Cordelia said her goodbyes to Mr. Giles and went to her window.
She paused to wonder. What would she do…if only she saw him again?



The telephone rang again. Giles, feeling aggravated, picked it up.
“Cordelia, don't you try again to convince me that…”
“Mr. Giles, it’s me, Willow. Listen to me”
Giles stood still. Willow’s voice didn’t leave any doubt: she talked business. She was terrified and clear minded, too. As usual.
“Mr. Giles, I’m held hostage by one William the Bloody. He wants something from me….a spell. And he wants it before dawn…otherwise, I’ll die. I can’t perform it by myself. You must come, NOW. If you warn Buffy…we’ll both die”
“I'll come immediately” Giles whispered. “Do you need anything?”
“Nothing, but hurry. He’s getting nervous”
Giles took his crossbow…and then let it fall. He didn’t intend risking any of his children’s lives. Not after what had just happened with Cordelia.
Somehow, a strange idea took possession of his mind. There was a thin red line connecting all the dots, Angelus’ soul, his vampires’ rage, Willow held as a hostage by William the Bloody. And, most of all, the disturbing relationship of that vampire with…
Not it was crystal clear. That red line could only be Buffy.
How could he have not thought about it?
Willow, hostage or not, was in for some answers.


Willow addressed Spike.
“He’s coming”
“Good” he replied, kissing her lightly on the forehead. Willow shivered…but she didn’t back off.
“I’m tired of waiting” the vampire said.



Giles arrived at Willow’s in a few minutes. The house was deserted: as usual, her parents were out, very busy with their active social lives. That was a good thing, obviously. Less innocent blood around.
He knocked on the door and Willow opened. She was pale, her hair dishevelled…but all in all she looked fine.
Giles went in, opening his hands, to show the vampire he wasn't carrying any weapon.
“Come in, Watcher” the vampire invited him, comfortably lying on the bed, arms crossed behind his head, cigarettes on the little bedside table. “I don’t bite”
Giles was furious. Willow could tell from the thin line of his lips. And she also had the uncomfortable feeling that his rage…in good part…was directed towards her.
“I have had an unpleasant evening” Giles said, in a low voice, in which his fury vibrated. “Your friend Angelus came to the library…and told me he killed Jenny Calendar…and has a soul. But that’s not all. Later, two adorable vampire ladies arrived…a blonde and a brunette…both gifted with really effective fangs…and threatened me and a student”
“And Angelus?” Spike asked, bemused in spite of himself.
“He sent them to hell. Unfortunately, only verbally”
Spike mirth vanished all of a sudden.
“Now…Willow…dear” Giles said. “My mind…maybe too analytical, I admit…sees a line connecting the dots. Would you be so kind as to reveal it to me?"
Willow didn’t answer.
Spike rose from the bed with a single, fluid movement…and stepped towards the Watcher.
“Do you really want to know?” he asked, softly.
“Yes” Giles answered, disappointed by the guilty, self–conscious silence of Willow.
Spike smiled. But there was no joy in his smile.
“Your dearest slayer, Miss Buffy Summers, fucked both Angelus and me. At the same time, and in the same bed, too. She gave him her blood, almost to the last drop, to save him, Europe’s Scourge…and when he killed Jenny, she played God…and gave him his soul back…all with the help of Miss Witch, of course. And she did it to make him love her”
Giles sat down.
“Some strong beverage wouldn’t be totally inappropriate, now”
“Sadly, we don’t have the time” Spike replied, almost kindly. “Ladies, Gentlemen…a spell awaits us”
“I know what you want” Giles replied. “Angelus wants nothing more. He came to me in the library for it…and I had the opportunity to put an arrow through his dead heart. Unfortunately, I missed. Angelus wants us to find a way to take away his soul…and make him again that immoral and cruel beast he was”
“Cruel?” Spike laughed, and caressed Willow’s hair, almost affectionately. She didn’t react. “Here is someone who really defines the word cruel…Not to mention your precious slayer. No, don’t fear…I won’t dish the dirty details…and that’s not out of some sort of weird respect for the lady, either. Believe me”
“I know nothing about spells which remove souls" Giles shouted. “Willow…did you find anything?”
Willow had a fit of coughing.
“What’s up?” Giles said. “What else are you hiding from me, Willow? I really can’t fathom this. You and Buffy have dared to risk the universe’s balance in such a mad and irresponsible way!”
“Now, you’re hurting her, Giles” Spike protested, with mock affection. “And we can’t have that. She’s very proud of herself. And I need her at her best, tonight”
“We don’t have any choice. Fine, anyway: I’ll talk with my girls when we are alone. Your opinion, as a demon, really doesn’t affect me. I’ll never ask for it”
“Watch the insolence, Watcher” Spike replied. “Red…let’s do it”
Willow prepared the necessary ingredients. She shot a glance in Giles’ direction: he was even more altered.
Giles tried to get out of the pitiful torpor he had fallen into after all those unpleasant surprises. What a night! And things were only getting worse.
“When we take Angelus’s soul…he’ll follow us and kill us, won’t he?”
Spike looked at him with real surprise.
“Watcher, you keep on misunderstanding me. Who talked about taking Angelus’ soul?”
Giles stared at him, dismayed. Willow, on the other hand, kept on working.
“There’s no way in this world to take his soul away. Your dear girls have learnt their lesson well. At least…he won’t be alone. In this adventure, I mean. And he won’t leave me alone, either”
Spike smiled, and moved nearer to Giles.
“Now the Witch and you will give my soul back. To me”.


Exhausted and torn to pieces by the waiting, Buffy eventually came back home. It was two in the morning, and her mother was sleeping, as usual, ignoring her movements.
There was still some secret hope that Angelus was waiting for her in her room. She was almost sure of it…
As soon as Buffy entered her home, the sitting room light was switched on.
“Angelus…”she whispered, a breath of relief escaping her lips. The long waiting had ended.
But it was Joyce. Pale, stiff, in her dressing gown, with bed hair. And mortally serious.
“Where…the hell…have you been? It’s twenty past two! Don’t you have a watch with you?”
Buffy was more amazed than dismayed. That was first time…in two years…that her mother had waited up for her. First time…since her father had left them.
“Mum…I’ve been at Willow's…studying…”
“To this hour?” Joyce asked, furious. “They called from school. They called me in the gallery and told me you weren’t there, this morning. They told me you had been at a funeral. Why in the world didn't you tell me? “
Buffy let her backpack fall and ran her fingers through her hair. This version of her mother was quite unpleasant.
“I didn’t want to worry you. One of my teachers is dead, Miss Calendar…she was very young. She was killed”
“Buffy…for God’s sake…I’m your mother. You could have told me. You should have told me. You’re shocked. I’d have helped you, we could have gone together to a psychologist…”
“A …psychologist?” Buffy laughed, angrily. “One of those you attend? Do you really believe he could solve anything?”
“I…don’t know. Maybe” Joyce admitted. “We could have talked about it. He would have helped us…to be in contact, the two of us. Today you lied to me. What if you've lied to me in the past, too? All of your absences, at night…all of your nights at Willow's…your going out late…maybe I wasn’t careful enough …maybe my job keeps me too busy…”
“Indeed” Buffy laughed again, without any pity. “You are always looking forward to going to work…just to avoid me. Your precious life, your job…isn’t it better not to know? Not to see? If only you knew….” Under the desperate, unbelieving stare of her mother, Buffy’s poison poured out of her mouth, in a flux of joy. “If only you knew what I do, with whom I do it, under this same roof…”
“Buffy…what are you saying? “
Buffy realized all of a sudden what it meant. Her mother. Who was staring at her like she was a banshee.
Her expression closed.
“Nothing. I’m spazzing out. I’m only tired, and saddened. I was very close to Miss Calendar…you’re right, I’m shocked. Maybe I really should visit a psychologist. Maybe one of those who had me in therapy in Los Angeles…when I talked about hunting vampires…”
“You’re not having those fantasies again, are you?” Joyce investigated, terrified of the idea that Buffy’s mental illness was back.
“Of course, no” Buffy smiled, thinking with a shudder o her fortnight spent in a clinic for mental diseases. She had learnt very soon to lie. “Those were scams”
Joyce fell back into her denial. It stood strong even in the face of the evidence. Yep, that was more comfortable. Yeah, they’d see a psychologist, maybe together, and all of this would be solved…
“I’m very tired, mom” Buffy said, dryly. “Today was a nightmare. I beg you, let’s talk about it tomorrow morning. We’ll be less tired …and we’ll see everything clearly”
“Right” Joyce yielded. Like this, it was easier, wasn’t it? “Tomorrow morning. Sleep tight”
Buffy kissed her on the forehead, and went to her room, with only one hope in her heart.
A frail one, indeed. Angelus wasn’t there…nor was there any message from him.
Sighing, Buffy undressed, put on her pajamas and went to bed. She glanced at her watch. Almost three in the morning: dawn wasn’t far away. Angelus wouldn’t come.
She was restless, sleep was eluding her.
“Come to me” her soul begged, without pause.
“Come to me….”


Angelus came.
They were making love. Slowly, deeply, deep voluptuous thrusts, his cool lips on her neck, on her thigh (and the blood ran…) and him, on her, dominating her…
And then those dark eyes turned blue, as clear and cloudless as a tropical sky, and William’s beautiful and sensitive face was taking the place of the tormented, dark Angelus’ visage. Now, it was she who dominated him: the blonde vampire’s hands were cuffed, and the key was hers…but she had lost it. He would never get free from her grasp.
“Let’s dance together” William said, and she nodded, moving on him, sensually, their union immediately near to the point of no return. Now, his blue eyes changed to dark brown, and his virile appearance became feminine, elegant…carnal…
“Let’s dance together” Faith whispered, her sister in blood, the dark slayer. She was naked, and their dance wasn’t any less sensual, exciting…”I know you wanna do it” Faith said, and her dark hair became red…and Willow’s golden eyes tormented her…”I know you can do it” Willow said, naked under her, smiling, dangerous…
Buffy took the stake and sank it in the white, chiseled chest. Spike’s.
And then she took a sword…and sank it in the wide, solid chest of Angelus.
Spike…Angelus…
Both were dust.
Both had been destroyed by Buffy, the vampire slayer.
Slayer extraordinaire.
“The price of power is loneliness…” Willow screamed, and Buffy came…


Dawn. Willow, exhausted, prepared the last items. Giles wasn’t less tired, but he rose in front of her. A quick gesture of Willow’s hand made the Thesulah globe reappear. It was the same that had vanished during the spell aimed at giving Angelus his soul back.
“We’re ready” Giles said, coldly.
There was a time for reproofs¸ recriminations…but this was hardly it. He was furious, and disappointed, but he didn’t want to pour his anger out on Willow in front of the vampire. They would have time for that later…should they survive his fury.
In a moment in between the darkest hours of that endless night, Giles had understood that there was a treachery which hurt him even more than the careless magic of Willow and the unacceptable transgressions of Buffy. That of Jenny.
She hadn’t been honest with him. She had lied about the real reason for her staying in Sunnydale…and her real aim. Dozens of times he had talked with her about Angelus, and she had stayed silent.
But from whom on the Earth could he exact his justice? The woman he loved, and who died, had lied to him.
The vampire lay still on the bed, groggy from those days’ emotions and the coming of dawn, arms crossed, all in all the corpse he was. Willow and Giles exchanged glances. That was the moment.
The herbal smoke clouded the room, sending them into a state of torpor similar to death. But that was a luxury none of them could afford, and they started reciting the old litanies.
“Quod perditum est, invenietur”
“Not dead, not a man”
“We call you, powerful spirits”
“Let him know human pain, oh Gods”
“Reach out to us with your magic hands”
“Give us the sword”
“We invoke…”
All following the script. Spike’s eyes closed slowly, while Willow fell into a state of trance.
A trance even more violent that the previous one, a trance which terrified Giles.
The globe broke in a thousand pieces, this time, and Willow screamed, out of herself.
A terrible pain overran Spike’s chest, it put a light in his barred eyes…and then darkness reclaimed him.


A coffin in the night. Cold, dark….Buffy opened her eyes. She had to get out of there…even if the world outside would be cold and dark, as damp as the earth of her grave…and a lot less consolatory.
She scratched with her nails the satin inside and shouted without voice, in that new, pitiless birth.
The certitude, the terror of the unavoidability of that event, somewhere on her path. And that because she had…dared…hadn’t she?
Dawn brought a caress of death to her sleep, which went on and on…


Spike rose from the bed, breathless.
His body forgot for a long, long, horrible moment it didn’t need to breathe…and he was racked with pain, falling from the bed, as dead as a corpse.
Giles and Willow were powerless, but they stepped towards the vampire.
He looked at them with blind eyes…and sent them away with a violent push, which smashed them against the walls.
In the rising day, William the Bloody went out from that middle–class house which was totally extraneous to him and ran towards the sun.
A thousand voices were calling him. None of them consolatory. All of them were accusations, shouted, whispered, murmured…cried. “William, William, bloody awful poet…”They laughed at him. “Village idiot, shame of your blood, failure of your class, disappointment for your mother, horrible, horrible, pathetic…” He cried, while the dawn rose, and the black of the night became gray.
“William is dead, his mother cries for him…” said another voice, a feminine one. “Isn't this amazing? He hadn’t any value, he was worthless, he was just a burden…”
“William” called a girl. “What are you doing? I had a right to refuse you, you were so beneath me….are you killing me?” And her broken neck was already hanging, still.
“Are you killing me? “ asked the black slayer, tough and beautiful, her strong, arrogant body dressed in black leather. “Try it, vampire, if you can, and I’ll have your dust…”
“I don’t speak Chinese” William replied to the other slayer, the little, pretty one, his first slayer. Her adorable doll face was stained with blood, and she became petite and blond and sensual. “I’m yours…yours…yours…” and her stake tortured his chest. “Find us in the sun!” all of them cried. The three slayers. Together . He was tempted to realize their desire.
The world was different. The world was burning, as was his chest…his…soul…
Flames and colors bright enough to burn your heart.
Devastating and tearing to pieces…


Savanna was singing tales of death, and she was dancing around the bonfire. Buffy dreamt, and her strength was that of her sisters in blood…Faith…and all the others…kill and fuck…kill and fuck…


William screamed.
Sun was touching him. He understood it a moment before it was too late.
He ran. He ran desperately, out of breath, towards the Crawford Street mansion. It burned…burned…God, what an idiot he had been…if only he had known it burns like that…
He arrived panting in the rock garden of the mansion, and he entered the cool house, his skin already burnt in patches…his mind and heart boiling…
Dru was standing, near the cold mantel of the fireplace. She was waiting for him.
A touch of a smile on his lips. Not all was lost. He still had Dru. He had been fools’ king, to look for that filthy punishment which was bound to torture him until his dusty end, now he knew it…but he still had Dru. He wasn’t really alone.
She stared at him with clear eyes, just once.
“They gave you your soul back. I've lost you too” she whispered.
William nodded, his heart broken, the smallest smidge of comfort in knowing, in that sea of tears, that she still loved him. She was still his.
She smiled.
“I kneeeew it!” she sang, and then she left, with a sounding whoosh of her gowns…leaving him behind, desperately alone.
His last effort took him, in the last impetus of desperate hope, to Angelus’ bedroom. Only he could understand him…at the end, that had been the reason, hadn’t it? Envy, consolation, loneliness…he really couldn’t leave Angelus alone. He really couldn’t let Angelus leave him alone.
They had to share everything…pain and pleasure of the hunt…strength and frailty of the night…Buffy’s sex…and now this…
But Angelus wasn’t there. All the big rooms upstairs were empty, too.
William shouted, desperate, the soul burning inside him.
Now, he understood. He wouldn’t have Dru…now she was so far away, like a galaxy in a cold winter sky. All of a sudden he saw her as she was, as she had always been: a demon, lifeless, mindless, whose original innocence had been broken without pity. There wasn’t anything more in her for him, now…there had never been. But he had been too blind to notice. His own disappointment, in noticing it, was in itself so pathetic and human and painful…and he wouldn’t have Angelus, either. There was no loneliness like their loneliness, now that they felt again. Anne Rice was dead wrong: what did she knew about vampires, after all? This was the dark gift: the soul which connected them again to the terrific and pitiless humors of humanity…
Dismayed, he fell to the floor, eyes closed, full of the sourest tears.
Tears which burnt his skin.
And he screamed, screamed as long as he could.

.

William screamed. She sank the stake, again.
His dust stayed on the ground, between her naked thighs.
Buffy awoke all of a sudden, panting. She had had an orgasm, and she had had it with the longest, creepiest and most terrible dream of her existence. God, that coffin…it had been so real…and the pain and the elation she had felt in killing Spike and Angelus, her lovers…
And Faith…Willow…naked with her in that bed, so self–conscious…
Breathless, she widened her eyes. Now she was completely awake. The small electrical clock was blinking 6:10, and in the frail light of dawn she noticed she wasn’t alone anymore.
Angelus was in the room’s shadow, the morning light already pouring from the window.
He was back, at last.





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