TITLE: Building A Mystery
SERIES: Faithfully Departed, #1
BY: Zorya
EMAIL: lunarmyth@yahoo.com
DISCLAIMER: Don't own the characters ('cept Aidan and Kiara and that wacky Professor Crandell) Everyone else is property of Joss and the WB and Mutant Enemy and all those rich execs. Songs are not mine either (as if you couldn't tell, you sly dog, you)
K.D. Lang - "Love Affair"
Depeche Mode - "Only When I Lose Myself" and "It's No Good"
The Communards - "Lovers and Friends"
Sarah McLachlan - "Do What You Have To Do" and "Building A Mystery"
Dido - "Here With Me"
DISTRIBUTION: Ask first, please.
RATING: NC-17
CATEGORY: B/A, romance, angst
SPOILERS: Takes place a few months after GD2. There are no real specifics. But in my world, the events of Band Candy don't take place until way later (or at least enough time so that by the time Buffy's in college, Joyce could have a bun in the oven and not have anyone be able to tell)
SUMMARY: Buffy travels to L.A. to save Angel from losing his soul once again. A mysterious stranger has an interesting effect on all of the Scooby Gang's lives.


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It was dark. The waning moonlight bounced off the walls of the semi-small room. A soft moan escaped her parted lips as she tossed and turned in her bed, sleeping fitfully.

Pictures took form in her mind. She was running, running, with nowhere to go. Dull brick walls surrounded her, gray and dark blue in the hazy light of her dream. Her breathing was labored as she continued to move. She threw a glance over her shoulder, noting nothing visible. Suddenly she ran into something solid and fell back a few paces. Without a second thought, she crouched down, ready to strike. As she looked up she realized it was Whistler standing before her. He stood silently, merely watching her. With a wary glance behind her she straightened and returned her attention to him.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, her breath still coming in pants.

"And here I thought I was a frequent focal point in many young girls' fantasies," he chided her.

She hedged around him, positioning him between her and whatever was apparently chasing her.

"I take it this is a dream then."

"You make it sound like a bad thing," he replied wryly. He shrugged and swept a glance over her. "You can't run from these demons, Buffy."

She tossed him a scathing look. "Oh? In case you hadn't noticed I'm a Slayer. I don't run from demons, I slay them. Hence the whole *Slayer* thing."

"You know what I'm talking about. These are *your* demons. They don't plague the world. You have no one to save from them but yourself. And you can't do that, can you?"

Her stance was defensive as she continued. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Whistler regarded her in a patient manner. His tone was light as he spoke. "But you do, my dear girl. I wouldn't normally involve myself in simple matters of the heart."

"And that would mean you're in my dreams because?"

"I'm here to keep the relative balance between good and evil. You know that."

She crossed her arms over her chest as she awaited his explanation with poorly feigned patience.

He smiled slightly as he watched her countenance. "It doesn't matter if you're with him or not. You do realize that, don't you? Angelus is a force to be reckoned with. And he will turn again. It's just a matter of time."

She turned her gaze to meet his eyes, her expression melting to that of shock. "B- but...he has no reason to. As long as he doesn't experience true happiness...well. We're not together. So I can't push him over the edge. He can't revert to his former self."

He nodded sagely. "You're correct in most of those assumptions. But change he will. And it's up to you to save him. He needs you. And just as I led him to you, now I'm leading you to him."

"And why should I believe this isn't last night's pizza speaking?" Buffy asked, finally fed up with his enigmatic messages.

Remaining unmoved by her words, he continued. "There is a woman. You do not know her yet. Trust her. She can help you."

She scowled up at him. "Well thanks for the enlightenment and insight. Now can you please get out of my dreams?"

"You won't like her. But she means you no harm."

"Look, I'm pretty sure I have to get up soon. So I'd appreciate it if I could get just a bit of rest before I'm off to save the world again..."

He disregarded her as if she had never spoken. "You know where he is. Go to him as soon as possible. You'll understand soon."

In a flash of white light, Buffy sat straight up in her bed. Immediately the alarm clock began to sound. To her right, Willow began to stir. As she looked at the time, she groaned.

She snatched up her pillow and pinned it over her head as she flopped back down on her bed.



* * *




They sat in the lecture hall along with three hundred other freshman college students. The professor stood center stage as he droned on and on about ancient theologies. Buffy dozed off as she tuned the teacher out. Impatiently Willow nudged her with her elbow. Buffy jumped, startling many of the students around her. As they turned to look at her, she blushed lightly and sank down into her seat.

"So we see that in early Chinese history, there was a focus on beaurocracy rather than actual religion....," Professor Crandell lectured, continuing his monotonous litany.

"Rough night?" Willow whispered to her.

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah. Basically the same dream I've been having for the past month."

Willow turned to her, worry shining in her eyes. "The one where you're being chased?"

"That's the one," she said with a nod.

"You know, maybe-maybe I could help you. Maybe there's a-a hidden meaning -"

"No. I think it's more of a prophetic type of thing. It was...different last night," Buffy began. She paused for a moment and looked over to Willow. Her voice was low when she continued. "Whistler was in it. And he...he warned me about Angelus returning."

Willow's eyes got wide and she gulped loudly. Buffy noticed and felt a need to put Willow at ease. "Which is stupid because we all know Angel can't change unless he gets a happy and, well.... Well. He has no reason to become Crazy Stalker Guy again."

Willow's voice was quiet, "But-but...you think it's worth looking into?"

She nodded reluctantly. "Anything is worth looking into if it prevents that from happening." She hastily corrected herself. "I mean, on a purely theoretical level."

Meanwhile Professor Crandell was drawing the class to a close. "So read chapters five through ten and there will be an exam next Friday. Have a nice weekend."

The students began to gather their things and wander out of the room. Willow and Buffy picked up their books and turned to walk out the back entrance of the room. Buffy noticed how withdrawn Willow was acting.

"So. Anyway. You and Oz doing anything special tonight?" she asked with a grin.

Willow smiled indulgently. "Yeah. He...I...we...we're going to spend the night at the beach."

Buffy frowned. "Well...just be careful. Don't forget to bring protection."

Willow's face blossomed bright red as she turned to Buffy. "Wha-what?" Buffy looked at her oddly. "Oh! Oh, right. Yeah. Extra stakes already packed. Crosses and holy water too." She grinned weakly.

Buffy shot her a knowing grin and Willow hurried to change the subject.

"What about you?"

"Well, I'm going to patrol for a while. But things seem to be slow recently. Not that it gives me a warm and fuzzy. Then I have an intimate weekend planned with Chapters 5 through 10," she wiggled her eyebrows suggestively and grinned.

"You're going to call him," Willow said matter-of-factly.

With a sigh she replied. "Yes. I just...I just want to make sure things are ok."

Willow nodded. "That's probably a good idea. I mean, rather be safe the sorry, right?"

The paused in front of the steps of the dormitory. Buffy dropped her gaze to the ground.

"I don't have a good feeling about this, Will."

"Why don't you talk to Giles about it? He might be able to find something on what else might be able to change Angel," she suggested.

She raised her head and looked around. All of the students were walking around, seemingly carefree. She nodded. "It's worth a shot." She grinned wryly. "Yay. Yet another few hours of wallowing in the depths of ancient history."

Willow gave her a sympathetic look, then took a deep breath. "Well. I need to go pack the rest of my gear. You know, can't forget the toothpaste."

"Yeah. Icky morning mouth can be a real mood killer."

Willow reached out to pat her arm. "It's going to be fine. Everything is going really well. And-and...everybody's happy and we all have our own niche. Niches are very important, you know." She smiled one last time and ran inside. Buffy wrapped her arms around her books as she watched after Willow.

"It's going to be fine. Everything is going really well. That's what worries me," she muttered under her breath.



* * *




The sky was clear, but the shadows seemed even denser this night. Boxes and trash spilled over into the alley from the dumpster behind the bar. As Angel leaned forward to stake one vampire, another one stalked him from behind. As the one in front of him exploded into dust, Angel quickly spun around, his fist connecting violently with the second vamp's nose. As he caught him off guard, Angel plunged the stake into it's heart.

"I don't know why you do it. I mean, wasting a perfectly good night *behind* a bar instead of inside. I don't even know why I continue to dress up. It's not like any worthy man is going to be seeing me," Cordelia whined.

He raised his head, an incredulous look passing over his flawless features. "Go home Cordelia," he told her.

"Excuse me? And let you have all the fun?" she asked. She rolled her eyes and surveyed their dreary surroundings.

Angel was not paying attention to her. He gazed pensively at the stake in his hand. "You're right. You don't belong here."

Her voice was overly saccharine as she turned to him. "Why Angel. I didn't know you cared."

He finally looked up at her. "Did you notice anything different about these?"

Cordy arched a finely sculpted brow. "Big fangs. Bad hair. No, not really."

Angel rolled his eyes, mimicking her action of earlier. His tone was firm as he spoke again. "Go home. Something's not right here. Things have just been getting crazier around here and I need to find out why. And I'm not going to get anywhere with you around. I won't have you getting hurt again."

"Look, I can take care of myself," she told him as she stood up to him defiantly. He shot her a doubtful look. She placed her hands on her hips and her eyes sparked with anger as she countered him. "Why does everyone think I'm not capable of handling these situations. Hello?!?! Didn't I spend the last three years fighting those big, bad Hellmouth-y creatures right along with the rest of you? So I'm not Little Miss Stakes-A-Lot. But *I* can bring down a Gucci sales associate with only a look. So don't tell me I'm not good in the face of confrontation."

His tone was dry as he spoke to her, though inside he conceded that she probably was a force to be reckoned with - given the right incentive. "Well the next time I need a makeover, I'll give you a call. But for now I mean it. Go."

She grumbled in discontent. "Fine. Be that way." She straightened the hem of her short skirt and began to stalk off. She stopped about twenty paces off and turned towards him slightly. "Same time tomorrow night?"

Angel noticed her hopeful look and nodded, hiding a grin. "Yeah. I'll meet you at the office." As she moved out of view he muttered to himself. He paced around the area where the vampires had been. The creatures were becoming lazy of late. They were unprepared and practically crazed. They were acting on instinct rather than intellect. It almost seemed as if they were becoming mentally unstable.....by fear.

He walked out of the alley and paused as he heard a noise. Nothing remained but an empty darkness. He began to cautiously make his way home, keeping extremely alert. As he reached his apartment door he looked over his shoulder suspiciously. A lone black cat ran across the street. Everything was silent. He opened the door and stepped inside. As he flipped on the light switch, he set his dark trench over the back of the old armchair next to the door. He looked out over the spacious room, open and sparsely furnished. With a soft sound he walked out of the side glass doors into the small courtyard. A small breeze stirred over him as he moved out into the otherwise still night. A shiver ran down his back. A shadow hovered near the wrought iron gate.

"Who's there?" he asked, suddenly feeling an extra presence.
Only silence answered him.

He walked towards the entrance at the back, where the shadow stayed. His hand moved to the stake in his back pocket.

"Come out now and I'll let you live long enough to tell me what you're doing here."

Again, only silence. The air was hot and muggy as he moved into the dense darkness of the makeshift jungle. The light scent of jasmine surrounded him momentarily. As he reached the place where the shadow was, he punched outward. The black cat hissed and jumped at him. As he swerved it ran past him through the plants and out of the gate. With a soft laugh at himself he replaced the stake in his back pocket. As he turned to go back inside, a soft voice sounded behind him.

"Nice reflexes," it said, husky and low, but decidedly feminine.

Angel spun around and threw the stake towards the sound of the voice. She caught it in her hand and tossed it back to him.

"Now just imagine how bad it would have been if I were an unsuspecting mortal," she said, her voice faintly mocking.

His own voice was a mixture of suspicion, wariness and derision as he spoke. "Seeing as how you're trespassing, you could hardly be described as unsuspecting."

"Perhaps."

"Who are you?" he asked again.

She turned from him and walked into his apartment. He followed her, stake still in hand. She moved into his kitchen and pulled down a glass form his cabinet. She filled it with water and took a slow, deliberate sip before turning to face him.

"You seem overly familiar with this place," he said discontentedly.

"I've looked around," she replied simply.

Angel was becoming increasingly annoyed. But as she turned, his eyes opened wide. She leaned against the counter and crossed her arms over her chest. He opened his mouth as memories came flooding back to him. He shook his head in disbelief and she set the glass down.

"Remember me?"

"It can't be you."

Her silver gaze looked at him inquisitively. "Why not? Did you really think I'd be as easy to break as poor little Dru?"

He exhaled deeply. "Kiara?"

She walked up to him and placed her hands lightly upon his chest. "The one and only."

He backed away, a look of horror on his handsome face. She dropped her hands to her side and looked at him sadly.

"Good or evil, you never could bring yourself to understand me, could you?"

"What do you want?" he asked harshly.

Her voice was low and soothing as she spoke. "I want to help you."

He scoffed. "Help me what? Drive the stake into my heart?"

Kiara reached out to him, but her shook his head and moved back.

"What do you think I am?" she asked, hurt evident in her voice.

"I don't know. I never knew."

"Then can you at least tell me why you seem to fear me?"

Angel remained silent.

She nodded, understanding. "If you think I'm here to extract vengeance, you're wrong. You never could comprehend what I was about. But despite what you think, I'm here to help you. And you can't escape that."

He made his way to the door. "Oh, I think I can."

"It'll only be more painful if you don't cooperate. I know what you're going through. And yet, even now you can't listen with your heart and not your head."

He turned back to her. "I don't know what the hell you're talking about."

She sighed. "Then sit down. Listen to me."

He looked at her, disbelievingly. "And why should I?"

She looked at him, her light eyes regarding him wearily. "Because you owe me that much," she told him quietly.

He stood still for a long moment. Then with one last glance outside he closed the door and walked back inside. He moved to the single sofa in his living room, hanging his head, knowing he had just sealed his fate.




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