"God, it smells like Mr. Clean. Too much pine." Cordelia complained as she slammed the door shut and, just slightly, turned her nose up to the surrounding forest.

"Cordelia," Wesley calming began, " this is a forest. Pine trees are native to this area."

"Wesley?" Buffy pipped in.

"Buffy. What a wonferful suprise to see you again." He looked around to everyone else's glued eyes. "All of you."

"Wesley." Xander nodded as he and Anya halted with putting up their tent. "Cordelia."

While Wesley only smiled, Cordelia said, "Xander." in the same tone, filled with confusion with a touch of awkwardness.

"What are you doing here?" Anya put in.

"Vision." Cordelia answered as if it were well known and understandable to all of those around her. "What are you guys doing here?"

"Council." Buffy copied her technique like she did with Xander.

"The Council told you to come here?" After seeing Buffy's simple nod, Wesley turned his body to Cordelia then wirled to look at Giles. "What's suppose to happen? Do you know?"

"We haven't the foggiest. The Council didn't say a word about what was to be expected. Only to plan for the unexpected in the length of time and to be here at percisely two in the afternoon." Giles obliged.

"That's rather odd of them to do something like that." When he caught everyone's eyes of the irony in that comment, the fact that the Council often did things like that, he quickly added, "Seeing as how you aren't employed by them any longer."

"Ah, yes. My thoughts exactly." Giles turned around to look at their quickly developing campground. "I assume you will join us?"

"Where's Angel?" Buffy didn't allow Wesley or Cordelia answer Giles' question. The question hung with her ever since they had gotten out of the car.

"He..." Cordelia looked uneasilly to Wesley for help, but all he gave her was a empathetic shrug. "Fired us. We came on our own."

"Bloody hell!" Spike's voice rang through the trees and threatened to wake up the birds when a spark from the fire that Anya was tediously poking at landed on him. "Give me that." Spike yanked the stick that she was using as a poker out of her hand and broke it in two on his knee and threw both pieces in the fire. "There." Satisfied, Spike leaned back into his folding beach chair and continued to take long drags from his cigerate.

"Geez." Anya shifted to lean back herself, watching the sap sizzle on the burning wood. It was the people who seemed to "not be involved" in this matter that were sitting near the fire. Dawn, herself, Tara, Spike....Anya chuckled to herself at this thought....everyone else was near the cars with their flashlights, pouring over what they think might be happening. Looking over a few books that Wesley had brought with him just in case, from his private collection.

Although Anya could not hear what they were saying, the topic was well known to all those who weren't even in the conversation. Angel.

"I don't understand. How could he do such a thing. It's not him. He...He..." Buffy ran out of things to say. It was impossible to even comprehend of what Cordelia had just told her. That Angel had purposely let people die. And the other part of the shock still remain back at the begining of the story where Darla and Drusilla were mentioned.

Buffy stood up and walked away from the group. Finding herself in the surroundings of trees only. No fire. No other people. No voices. And no lights except from that of the quarter moon. Feeling a sudden wave of shivers she wraps her arms around herself, cupping her elbows with her hands. Tilting her head back she looks up at the moon that can be made out through the tops of the trees. It was then that another shiver and wave of gooseflesh hit her and again, but with this one came a twist in her gut. Only one thing and person had that effect on her. But she shook it off. After all. Spike was only a few yards away.

Closing her eyes now, she could hear the hooting of an owl a little ways up in a tree. A shift in the mood of everything around her struck suddenly and had Buffy standing straight and rigid. Waiting. But for what she, herself, wasn't even sure of. The shift was in her body as well when the owl went dead silent. Even the small wind seemed to shudder itself and cease. "Hello, Angel." She turned around, finally putting everything together. Her tone was cold and hard.

Barely making out the shadows and shapes ahead of her, only she, the Slayer, would be able to make out the destinct figure of her ex-lover. Finally, he emerged from the pitching darkness and into the moonlight. And with his voice monotoned, he returned her achknowledgement and "simple" greeting, "Buffy."

Next Part

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