Part Five

"Buffy!" Xander yelled breathlessly as he ran into the library.

Giles was-as always-researching some demon. Buffy was beating the stuffing out of a dummy. Willow was 'Net surfing, and Oz was content to watch the red-headed hacker. Startled, Buffy didn't pull her kick and broke the dummy in half. Its upper body landed somewhere in the stacks.

"What?" Buffy asked.

"Faith is gonna kill Angel!" Xander said.

"WHAT?!?!" Buffy and the gang practically screeched. Giles, however, remained silent.

"It's all a plot. Them being *friends,* hanging out together, her apologizing. She's gonna kill Angel night after tomorrow night!" Xander said.

"Xander Harris!" Willow yelled. "That is *NOT* funny!"

Xander was taken aback. They didn't believe him?

"I swear to God and everyone on this earth, Faith asked me to keep you guys busy two nights from now so she can kill Angel," Xander said.

Buffy wiped the sweat from her neck, grabbed her Slayer bag, and started walking toward the door. She stopped by Xander and opened her mouth to speak. Giles, however, interrupted.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"To find Faith or Angel or both," Buffy said with steel, daring him to say otherwise.

"I can't say I'm against it, at all, Buffy," Giles said in his impeccable British manner, though harsh.

Buffy's whole face turned cold with barely concealed rage.

"*I* *don't* *care,*" she ground out.

"He tortured me for hours!" Giles hissed.

"*THE* *DEMON* tortured *me* for *six* *months*! Don't you try to tell me how much you've suffered, Giles! This is my decision! I *AM* *NOT* going to let Faith murder Angel, no matter how much you may hate him," Buffy said.

"You love him," Giles said. "Even now."

Buffy said nothing, but turned to Xander.

"If you're lying to me. . . ." she hissed as she strode out the door.

<< It wasn't supposed to happen like this. . . . >> Faith thought as she listened through the stacks.

"Faith?" Joyce asked at the Slayer's grave expression.

"It didn't work!" Faith said.

"She's not going to save him?" Joyce asked, a frown appearing on her face.

"Yes, but she's going to kill me too! She and Giles had this *huge* fight, pulling out all the stops. And, Buffy left the library in a blaze of fire, and Giles was shakin' so bad, I though the man was having a stroke!" Faith said, more than alarmed.

"I'll see if I can find her, Faith," Joyce said, grabbing her jacket, purse, and keys. "You stay here until I tell Buffy what *was* really happening. I can't believe it turned out like this! For God's sake, I only wanted my baby-girl to be happy!"

She rushed into the night to find her daughter or the immortal vampire that would save everyone a lot of trouble. Oh- everyone was going to be furious. Joyce couldn't help but smile at what her meddling had caused. For, if she didn't smile, she would probably break down in tears.

Buffy first went to the mansion. Angel was not there, and it looked as though he hadn't been there for some time. Buffy was rapidly losing her anger and gaining worry.

<< Oh, God, don't let him die. I don't care what it takes. I'll give up my life- anything- so he doesn't die. I need him so much. . . . >>

She knew she was lying to herself earlier. If Angel had said he didn't love her, she thought maybe she would be able to let go. But- oh- it hurt so much.

Faith was no where to be seen. Her apartment . . . motel room . . . was empty and actually had food in it. This meant that Faith hadn't been home in the last eight or so hours. There weren't any vampires out that night, but Buffy didn't really pay much attention to the lack of vamps. It had been like that for some time.

Angel. Angel was gone. Though it wasn't unusual for him to just disappear and turn up at will, he hadn't done it since he got back. . . . From Hell. Buffy wondered if maybe he was feeling better and back to his old, brooding self. It didn't figure, though. Suffering in torment was more like it. Even though he seemed to be- normal (or relatively so), Buffy could tell he was in more pain than he was letting on, both physical and mental.

<< And, I just let him go. I didn't help him when he needed me most? What kind of girlfriend am I? Or ex-girlfriend? Or just friend? -Oh, Angel . . . >>

"So, you're the infamous Angelus?" the man asked.

Angel's only response was an arched eyebrow.

"Not too talkative are you?" he asked.

Angel sat silently.

"Well-" he said, "Trick, could you come in here for a second?"

The well-dressed vampire walked in. Angel could feel him smirking as he came in.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't Angelus. How are you, man?" Trick asked.

"What do you want?" Angel ground out.

"Well- here's the thing," Trick said. "I am a man of business, a man of the world. My employer here, he's a sort of a- politician."

<< Oh, God! Demons and vampires and Hell, and now, a politician! >> Angel thought.

"It's not good business to have *two* Slayers running around, fouling things up," Trick said.

Angel was silent.

"So, we want you to do something about it, Angel," Trick said.

"Trick, you obviously should know me well enough to know I won't help you do anything to either Buffy or Faith," Angel said harshly as he eyed the Mayor (though he didn't know it was the Mayor).

"Wait! Wait! Angel, my man, before you turn us down, you should listen to what we want to do. . . ."

"*I* *don't* *care,*" Angel hissed.

"We'll see," the Mayor said.

By the time Joyce got home, it was nearly dawn. She hadn't seen Buffy or Angel, so she assumed they were off somewhere together. It irked her motherly instincts to think her seventeen-year-old daughter was with a man- vampire, but this was what she wanted and was willing to accept *some* of the consequences. She would just have to have one of the real . . . semi-real talks other mothers had with their daughters.

Faith was sleeping on the couch. It startled Joyce that *someone* was there because usually her house was empty.

"Faith," Joyce whispered from across the room. (Generally, it was a bad idea to wake a sleeping Slayer.)

"Huh?" she mumbled.

"You should probably get home. Buffy will probably be back soon, and even though you didn't do anything, she might be upset," Joyce said.

Faith drowsily went home just as the sun peeked over the horizon, so she was safe from vampires. Joyce trudged up the stairs and practically passed out on her bed from exhaustion. She didn't hear Buffy come in, didn't hear her practically crawl up the stairs, didn't hear Buffy collapse into bed, didn't hear her daughter sobbing.

No, things were not going as planned.

Buffy's mind was too clouded with grief to notice that her mother was still asleep. Buffy hadn't slept at all from the time she got home until she went to school to confront the Watcher. She was running on pure emotion and adrenaline. The only thing on her mind: Angel dead and Faith about to be that way.

"Maybe . . . maybe he's just . . . off someplace brooding," Willow tried lamely.

"I- I looked everywhere. I- I can't find Faith or Angel," Buffy sobbed.

"Buffy, perhaps you've been a little hasty in your grieving. It is *quite* possible that Angel has been soul-searching or . . . avoiding you. . . ."

"Why would Angel do that?" Buffy asked, blinded by her anguish.

"You did- uh- sever your friendship, correct?" Giles asked.

"Look on the bright side," Xander said, "maybe Faith and Angel ran off together."

That only increased Buffy's wailing. Willow sent Xander a look that would have turned Medusa into a mewling child . . . or a stone statue. Fire lit up Giles's eyes for just a moment because Xander had upset his Slayer even more. Giles had the strangest inkling that something was going on that no one knew about, but he didn't have enough pieces to make the picture clear.

"It's- it's all my fault," Buffy whispered to Willow. "I made him lose his soul, and then I got him killed." << I'm so selfish. >>

Angel stifled a moan as his captors threw him into the cage. It seemed, no matter how old he got, torture was always a favorite among the evil. Sure, Trick and his flunkies weren't anything compared to the timeless demons in Hell, but it didn't make the pain hurt any less.

They hadn't even asked him any questions yet. Trick's minions just beat and tortured him until he didn't want to move anymore. He wouldn't have even had a problem getting free if not for his summer vacation in Hell. It had made him weak, and he hadn't been able to fight back.

He was biding his time until the sun was almost set. The older you got, the more tolerant you were to the sun. No, the older vampires couldn't *walk* in the sun, but the pre-dawn vampire warning and pre-sunset twilight was more bearable. Angel was likely to have a massive sunburn on his face, arms, and bare chest << Stupid minions ruined my shirt! >> , but he would still be able to leave before most of the minions would think about following. ((**Yes, I *AM* inventing my own vampire lore. If you don't like it, write your own fanfic.**))

Cordelia Chase was back at school (not that she was too happy about it). After being accosted by Harmony and her clique, rammed into by a jock, and being late for her second period class, Miss Chase was feeling not at all perky or thrilled to be at school.

She had been avoiding Xander Harris all day, and it was getting annoying. It seemed she was going through closet withdrawal, and it was giving her a headache. On top of that, she really wanted to see what the *::big, echoing voice::* Mouth of Hell *::end voice::* was going to spit at them this week, but she *knew* Xander or Willow would be there.

She walked by the library, just to take a peek in, when she heard Xander's smart-alec voice make a comment and someone sobbing. << Buffy? >> She looked in the window and found Buffy Summers Super Slayer draped over the edge of a chair and bawling in despair.

Without a second thought, Cordelia went into the library to see what was wrong with Buffy. Not in all the months as Angelus posing as Angel did Cordy see Buffy so heartbroken.

"Cordy?" Xander asked, though she was oblivious.

"Buffy, what's wrong?"

Buffy looked up at Cordelia and sniffed.

"Angel's dead!"

"What?!?" Cordelia asked, shocked.

"I- I can't find Angel! Faith killed him! I know it!" Buffy said.

Cordelia felt her stomach and all its contents fall into her feet with a squish.

"I- I'm so sorry, Buffy," Cordelia whispered.

It struck Cordy like a lightening bolt. No one had ever accused her of being too quick. In fact, some people thought she was quite dense, but Cordelia put what she knew together and came up with an answer. Joyce had been by her room, and Buffy thought Faith had killed Angel. It all made sense. . . . in a sense that wasn't sort of way. << Oz, much? >>

Cordelia gave her friend a hug in front of Giles, Xander, Willow, and Oz. ((*Boy, weren't they shocked?*)) Then, she tried to put pieces in that were still sort of fuzzy and bided her time until she could talk to the Slayer's mother.

Willow was alone in the library. Buffy had gone home to rest. Giles had taken her. Xander had mumbled something about a Twinkie and left shortly thereafter. Oz and the Dingoes were having practice tonight. And, the Scooby gang would reconvene after sunset.

The red-headed hacker was chatting with some of her technopagan friends when she heard the door close. Willow turned to see Joyce Summers standing there with a framed drawing of some sort and a nervous smile. Willow smiled warmly and told her friends that she had to go. Willow wasn't really sure why she had to go, but the look on Misses Summers face told her that Willow was not going to be able to continue her chat.

"Hey, Misses Summers, no one else is here besides me. Buffy already went home," Willow said.

"I know. I saw Buffy and Giles heading for my house. -Buffy tells me you're a witch," Joyce said bluntly. "Or, is that offensive? Should I call you a sorceress or a spell caster?" She trailed off.

"I don't really practice magic, but I'm not offended by being called a witch. Wh- why do you ask?"

"I was just wondering actually, and I kinda had this question. I was going to asked Mister Gi- Rupert, but I guess you might know," Joyce said.

"Oh, is it about magic? I know about magic, but why would you want to know about magic?" A frown crossed Willow's face. "I'll just be quiet now."

Joyce smiled a motherly smile at the shy (but less-shy than before) girl.

"You probably know I run an art gallery." Willow nodded. "Sometimes, I get stuff that I don't know anything about." Joyce could be seen with a faint blush. "Like a mask that raises the dead. I got this print in a shipment today. It's probably from Eastern Europe from the style of script, but I was wondering if it was some kind of spell." Joyce frowned. "I didn't want to put it up if it was."

"Oh, I guess I understand that," Willow said. "I could look at it and run it through the translator like- Miss Calendar did with Angel's- uh- curse."

Willow scanned it and used the translator on the ancient text. It was cycling through all the possibilities when the phone rang. Willow went to answer.

"Hello . . . oh, hi. . . . Yes, I'm still at the library. . . . You need me to come home? Now? What's wrong? -Oh, okay. . . . No, I'm not . . . no, I just. . . . Yes, I'm on my way. . . ."

"What was that about?" Joyce asked curiously.

"My mom found a small cross I keep for protection in my room when she was putting some of my clothes away," Willow said.

"What's wrong with that?" Joyce asked.

"My parents and I are Jewish," Willow said as she tried to suppress an impish smirk.

"Oh," Joyce said.

Willow went on to explain what would happen once the work had cycled through. She started to explain how to print and save, but Joyce told her that she knew from Ted. Ted had set up the software for the gallery, and Joyce was not completely computer-illiterate anymore. Willow smiled, grateful she didn't have to explain anything and fled the library.

Joyce couldn't believe how lucky she was getting. It was quite possible that Joyce would be able to fix things. << I'll have to give that nice man at that shop some cookies or something nice like that. >> The frame on the spell (she knew it was a spell) had cost her an arm and a leg. ((*Not in the literal sense.*)) The man at the . . . Gypsy-supply store had been 'courteous' enough to hunt the spell down. Of course, she had to remind the man several times that Spike and Drusilla were *not* in Sunnydale, but everything else was great.

The man had told her he knew what the spell did, but he didn't know exactly how. It was in all the circles that the red-headed hacker had performed the Soul Restoration spell, and the shopkeeper thought maybe one of them would want it. When Joyce had come in asking for just such a thing, he was only happy to get rid of it. (Though, he pretended to be otherwise. It didn't pay to be a known nice guy. He was a business man.)

When the spell was finished decrypting, Joyce printed it out and stuck it in her purse. She deleted any evidence of what had been on the computer and closed the program. The only thing left to do was cast the spell. . . .

By all rights, it wouldn't be sunset for another fifteen minutes, but Angel knew he had to get out of there, and he had to do it fast. As quickly and quietly as possible (though that wasn't very quiet at all), Angel pried the wooden slats away from the window and burst through the second-story window. Angel landed on his feet (sorta) in a shower of broken glass and wood. He heard the very audible pop of a bone being broken and cursed the demons that had made him weak. His body had been able to make that jump in February. << Valentine's Day. >>

He stumbled through the alleys in the shadows, trying to find someplace for shelter. The closest place was the library, but he knew he couldn't go there. It was *dark* by now, and the vampires would be after him.

He wasn't more than twenty or so blocks away from wherever he'd been held captive when several vampires jumped him from behind. Angel was fighting on instinct and emotion. His only desire, to get far, far away from the minions.

Joyce Summers's slightly dented jeep pulled to a screeching halt beside Angel and the minions. She jumped out with a large wooden cross and thrust it in the face of the nearest vampire.

"Get in, Angel," Joyce said, being sure to invite *only* Angel into her car.

Angel, too much in pain and only half-conscious to care, dived into the driver's seat and slid into the passenger's side. Joyce stepped in the car and floored it, running over a vamp in the process. She drove to the mansion where she knew Faith would be waiting. Angel was passed out with his head on the window.

Angel awoke as a bolt of energy lanced through him. He opened his eyes to see the *other* Slayer peering at him nervously and his girlfriend's- ex-girlfriend's mother watching him in apprehension.

"Angel?" Joyce asked.

"What happened? Joyce, what am I doing here?" Angel asked, confused.

Joyce held her hand out to Angel. Angel, arching his eyebrow at her, took the object, the rose quartz, in his hand. Immediately upon touching it, it turned to a light purple color. Joyce smiled and looked at Faith. Faith was grinning in accomplishment.

"What happened?" Angel asked again.

"Good news, Ang, there's no clause anymore," Faith said as she grinned.

"Clause?" Angel asked dumbly.

"We removed the clause from your curse," Joyce said. "You can have your moment of contentment now."

Simultaneously, the Slayer's mother and the other Slayer turned around and started to walk away.

"Joyce," Angel called. She turned. "You're sure?"

Joyce nodded.

"How? Why?" Angel asked, utterly bewildered.

"'Cause it was fun," Faith said. "And, because I was tired of people playing games with me. I wanted to do something to make up all the trouble that's been caused."

Angel looked at Joyce, expecting an answer. Joyce shrugged. "I'm just a meddling mother," she said as they left.

Angel was too shocked to consider the consequences. He laid his head on the sofa and promptly passed out again. It had been a really hard week for the immortal vampire.

Epilogue.

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