For disclaimer see Part 1.
Mail:LunarMyth@yahoo.com


"So you think it's serious?" Willow asked. She was seated Indian style in the middle of her made bed. She'd gotten back a few hours earlier and was shocked by all Buffy had told her.

Buffy was packing. "I think anything dealing with Angelus, Spike, Dru, not to mention the creature from the Black Lagoon, is serious." She halted her packing and turned to face Willow. "I can't let anything happen to him, Will. If I don't do anything and Angel does change, it might as well be my fault all over again....." Willow patted the spot next to her on her bed and she sat down.

"It wasn't your fault."

Buffy exhaled.

Willow grimaced. She hadn't gained much insight from what Buffy had told her. It wasn't like Giles to be so lax in his duties. If he couldn't understand what was going to happen, no one was likely to find out until *after* it happened. "So wh-what are you planning to do?"

Buffy stood and walked back to her bed. She proceeded to finish packing. "I'm going to do the only thing I can do."

Willow watched her. "Aren't you forgetting the kitchen sink?" she joked.

Buffy looked up, her mind elsewhere. "Huh?" She looked down at her overflowing bags. "Oh." She smiled lamely.

"Buffy...don't you think it might be a bad idea to go to L.A.?"

"It's the only option I have, Will. If I don't go and Angelus returns, who's going to be there to stop him? I have to go and hope I get there in time."

"But...I....I mean, don't you think that you're going to L.A. might in effect complete the prophecy? What with the whole Chosen death thing going on?"

Buffy shrugged. "It's a risk I gotta take." She zipped up her bags and tossed them on the floor. She placed her hands at the back pockets of her tight black leather pants. "I'm gonna go see Mom before I go. You'll watch things here for me, won't ya?"

Willow stood and hugged her quickly. "You know us." She grinned. "The Scooby Gang's always up for a night of stalking the undead and assorted freaky things of the Hellmouth."

Buffy nodded and walked to the door. She turned as she opened it. "And, uh, Will....? Don't tell Giles where I went immediately. Just give me a bit of time to kinda get things straightened out, k?"

Willow nodded, though she didn't think it was the best idea not to tell Giles. "My lips are not only zipped, they're hermetically sealed. But I do have one more question...."

Buffy looked at her expectantly.

"What about Aidan?"

Buffy froze. She looked at Willow askance. Hiding her shock that she'd totally forgotten in the last 48 hours about the guy she'd been dating fairly regularly, she answered Willow. "Don't tell him either. I hope I'll be back before I'm missed." With that she smiled at Willow and walked out.


She opened the door to her house and switched on the lights. It was very quiet.

"Mom? Are you home?" she called out. She heard the upstairs bathroom door open.

"Buffy? Is that you?" her mother called down weakly. Fearing the worst, Buffy ran up the stairs. Her mother was leaning over the bathroom sink.

"Mom?" she spoke quietly. "Are you okay?"

Joyce Summers turned her head and gave her daughter a wan smile. "I'm fine. I think it's just a virus that's been going around at the gallery."

Buffy nodded, though she was still more than a little nervous. She took her mother's arm and a wet face cloth. "Come on. I'm going to put you to bed." Joyce followed obligingly to her bedroom and reclined on top of her bed. Buffy laid the cool cloth on her forehead. "Just rest, ok? I'm going to go make you a cup of tea." Joyce nodded and closed her eyes, thoughts swirling through her mind. Just as she was about to go to sleep, Buffy popped back in.

"Honey. Why are you home? Are you ok?" she asked weakly.

Buffy set up the tea on the nightstand and perched on the edge of the bed next to her mother. "Yeah. I just wanted to tell you I'm not going to be in town for the weekend."

Joyce sat up in bed with minimal help from Buffy. "Oh? Where are you going?"

Buffy hid her gaze as she answered. "To L.A."

"L.A.? But what's-" her eyes got wide as she realized. "Oh Buffy. You aren't going to see him, are you?"

"Mom," she began. "It's not what you think..."

"Not what I think?" she yelled. She calmed down before continuing. "There's no reason for you to see him, Buffy. He left. You both know it's for the best. Besides, what about that nice boy you've brought home a couple of times? What's his name?" She wracked her brain for a name. "Andrew? Arthur? Alan?"

Buffy's tone was cool as she spoke to her mother. "His name is Aidan, and just because Angel and I have broken up doesn't mean we can't be friends."

Her mother looked at her skeptically. "Oh? And I assume this is just a *friendly* visit?"

"Yes!"

Joyce shook her head. "No. I forbid it. You may not go to L.A. to see that...that....that VAMPIRE!"

Buffy stood up. "I'm 18, Mom. I'm in college. I don't even live here anymore. You cannot forbid me to go to L.A." She began to walk out of the room.

Her mother sat up weakly. "Buffy Anne Summers! You come back here right now! Seeing Angel is not the right thing to do. Not when you've finally got a normal life within your grasp!"

Buffy stopped in her tracks. She walked back into the room. Her voice was deadly calm. "You think that's what this is all about? A normal life? Well I've gotten past that dream and you should too. Because it's just a dream. To hope for more would be selfish. This is my life. I'm the Slayer. The rest is just an added bonus." She sighed, suddenly feeling too old. "Mom, I'm sorry if this upsets you. But I am going to him, and you can't stop me." She walked to Joyce. Leaning down, she kissed her forehead. "I love you, Mom. Get better. I don't like seeing you sick." She walked out of the room and out of the house.

Joyce stood, torn between running after her daughter or running to the bathroom to empty the contents of her stomach yet again. But the choice was taken away from her and she sprinted to the bathroom.



* * *




They'd been patrolling for three hours with nary a vampire to be found.

"You think it's the weather? I mean, look at what it's doing to my hair," Cordelia remarked.

Angel mumbled something under his breath. She shot him a glance. "Why don't you go home Cordelia? We might as well call it a night. I know we're not going to find any."

She thought his suggestion over. *It'd be nice to have night off.* "Why don't we go out? We both need a rest. It'd be fun to just relax and dance for a night, wouldn't it?"

He looked around, wanting anything but to go out with Cordy. Drawing up his courage he answered, "Fine. You lead the way." She smiled at him and straightened her short skirt. For the umpteenth time he wondered if she ever actually expected to fight, dressed like that.

She looked over her shoulder to see if he was coming and caught his glance. She looked down at her skirt and noted the drift of his thoughts. Smiling smugly she called back over her shoulder, "It's called dressing to kill."

Angel looked up, surprised, but she'd already turned back around and was walking purposefully towards the club across the street. He hadn't known he was so obvious in his critical perusal. He'd have to remember that Cordelia was a bit more perceptive than she let on.

As they walked into The Inferno, as the club was called, he noted a few undead around. Unfortunately, or fortunately, he mused, these were only the ones he did business with on a regular basis. They nodded at him imperceptibly but did not note his existence any further. As a known foe to the vampire culture, association with him could blow their respective covers.

He looked around, surprised to realize he'd been there before. The decor was dark of course, with red lighting and red leather and velvet furniture. It was basically a modern motif with steel and black iron furnishings. Though the use of red gave off a "hot" atmosphere, he realized the rest of the room was rather cold and sterile. A band was playing on stage and he noticed with feigned interest, the two women dancing in cages on either side. He wouldn't have picked this place as a winner on the "Cordy-scale".

As Cordelia excused herself to dance with a particularly arrogant young man, Angel sentenced himself to a drink and an isolated booth. He had lost all track of space and time when he realized something was going on in the club. He shook his head and looked around. He couldn't see Cordelia anywhere. In fact, he thought for a moment that the club had closed because he couldn't see anyone anywhere. But he could still hear the fast, pulsating beat of the music. He twisted around in the booth and realized where everyone had gone. They were crowded around the cage to the left of the stage. His first urge was to make sure Cordelia was safe. He noticed her on the outskirts of the mob, pouting because she was no longer the center of attention. He stood and walked over to her.

"Not having fun?" he asked.

"Well, I was before it turned into the Slut-O-Rama." She nodded to the cage that so many men were crowded about.

He smirked. "Upset that you weren't a contestant?"

"Watch it, Dead Boy," she shot back, reverting to her ex's pet name for Angel.

He glowered. Something about the whole situation didn't feel right to him. "I'll be right back," he told her, then began to weave through the mass to see what exactly was getting so much attention. The beat changed as he neared the front. It was slow and seductive, and when he lifted his gaze, he could see why. Why everything, actually.

Her legs were long and tanned and shaped perfectly. Her body was petite but sculpted beautifully, like a work of art. The men around him sighed as she tossed her head back, her eyes closed as she lost herself in the music.

I'm going to take my time
I've got all the time in the world
To make you mine
It is written in the stars above
The gods decree
You'll be right here by my side
Right next to me
You can run, but you cannot hide....

Her long black hair swirled around her body as she twisted and twirled, her body moving like liquid she was so smooth and fluid. Her hips swayed back and forth rhythmically. Her fingers traveled slowly up and down the bars, enjoying her imprisonment.

Don't say you want me
Don't say you need me
Don't say you love me
It's understood
Don't say you're happy
Out there without me
I know you can't be
'Cause it's no good.....

He stared at her, transfixed, reminded of a time centuries ago. He felt a shiver deep down inside of him. The primal urge of hunger rose unbidden in him and he had to close his eyes momentarily to control himself. *What is she?* His own hands raised to grip the bars. If he'd been breathing, he would have stopped the moment she opened those stunning silver eyes to gaze down directly at him.

I'll be fine
I'll be waiting patiently
Till you see the signs
And come running to my open arms
When will you realize
Will we have to wait till our worlds collide
Open up your eyes
You can't turn back the tides....

As he watched the sensuous lines of her body he could have sworn he saw her mouth "I knew you'd come." He blinked rapidly and shook his head. Her voice wafted through the cobwebs of his mind. "My Angel....." When he looked back up at her, she was no longer watching him. He turned around, and she and the music continued. As he made his way back to Cordy, he could not help but feel as if he'd lost a piece of himself.

"A real piece of work, isn't she? Who does she think she is? Hormonal imbalance, much?" It was obvious to him that Cordy was still peeved at the lack of attention being paid her.

Angel threw his arm around her shoulders. "C'mon Cordy. It's time we get home anyway."

She began to protest, but he led her out into the fading night. They walked in companionable silence, and once again Angel marveled at how well he at Cordy actually got along. He walked her to her apartment and then proceeded to go to his own home.



* * *




She was towel drying her dark hair when there was a knock on the door. She looked around quickly and threw on one of Angel's shirts. Her damp hair hung down her back, below her waist, a few strands clinging to her cheek. Noticing that it was almost time for sunrise, she opened the door with a hesitant smile. A small girl, about her height, stood on the other side, bags in hand.

Until she dropped them and did a spin kick, knocking Kiara back into the apartment. She quickly recovered herself and as the Slayer jumped up, ready to come down on her again, Kiara sprang upwards, knocking them both back down to the floor. She watched the stake seemingly materialize in Buffy's hand and laughed softly. She rolled onto her back and then rocked onto her shoulders, using the leverage to jump to her feet. Faster than Buffy's eyes could see, she kicked the stake out of the Slayer's hands and reached down to help her up. Much to Kiara's consternation, Buffy accepted her hand and pulled her back down, only to jump on top of her, another stake in hand and hovering above her heart. She eyed the sharp wooden object momentarily.

"Where is he?" Buffy demanded.

Kiara looked around slowly. "I think I'm going to guess he's not home yet."

Buffy looked down at the beautiful woman from her lover's past and wanted to cry. She took in her perfect features, sparkling silver eyes, and the fact that she was wearing Angel's shirt. She was either too late, or obviously not needed. *No!* she thought. *There is a prophecy and I'm here to stop it from coming true, no matter what!*

At that moment, the object of both their affections stood in the doorway. He quietly closed the door behind him, blocking out the fastly approaching sunlight. He watched them momentarily, a bemused look upon his dark face.

"Buffy?" he said after a long while when they all three looked back and forth between each other.

"Angel!" she exclaimed, relieved he had not been turned. She jumped off of the vampire woman and ran to him, enfolding him in a tight embrace.

Angel wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in her hair, inhaling her familiar scent. Remembering their need to stay apart however, he drew back and distanced himself from her. He walked to the glass doors and undid the drapes that hid the sunlight from view. "What brings you here?" he asked carefully. Unable to resist, he turned to her, his eyes soft but restrained. "You look great," he said softly.

Watching them, Kiara stood slowly, a small frown marring her brow. Buffy noticed and shook herself mentally. "Angel. What's she doing here? She's evil. Not that you've not been known to hang out with the less savory of your people, but.... She's going to take your soul away!" she blurted out.

Angel looked at her as if she'd grown two heads. "What?" he asked. He looked to each of them, unsure of what was going on. Bidden by the unknown source deep within him, he did a double take at Kiara in his shirt. Inhaling, though it wasn't necessary, he looked at them. "Can someone please tell me what's going on here?"

"She's evil-" Buffy started.

"She's right," Kiara said simply.

He looked at Kiara in surprise, and also a touch of hurt, he realized.

"Well, partially right, anyway," Kiara amended.

Buffy looked ready to attack her and he clenched his fists behind his back. "Would you care to tell us which part she was right about exactly?"

Kiara licked her lips and nodded to the living room. "Maybe it'd be best if you two were sitting. I think this is going to be a complicated story."

They all moved to the large room, Angel and Buffy careful to sit on opposite ends of the sofa. Again Kiara found herself pacing in front of the fireplace. She looked up at them both, determination written plainly in her features.

"I did come here to make you lose your soul," she began.

Buffy almost leaped from the sofa, but Angel restrained her, wishing to hear the rest of the sordid plan first.

"But it's not like I was doing it to hurt you."

Buffy snorted.

Kiara looked towards her, measuring her up. She addressed her before continuing. "You know, you're very smart. And very beautiful. You're tough, and you'll survive. But I hate to tell you, little Slayer, that you haven't lived for nearly five centuries. Now, no, I don't profess to *know* you, as all you young children of this generation seem to think is impossible, but I do know that though that attitude of yours has gotten you out of many a fight, it's not doing you any good right now. And I know that the reasons you're here aren't the noble ones of your dreams, but the selfish ones of your heart. So don't judge me, little girl. You can't kill me, like you can the rest of your big bad monsters. So you've dealt with evil. So what? You have no idea what I can do."

Angel smiled slightly as Buffy shut up and narrowed her eyes at the small woman in front of her.

Kiara's silver eyes snapped as she turned around to compose herself. *Good one* she thought. *Why don't you just try and see if she can hate you anymore than she does now.* She continued, "I am here to cause you to lose your soul." She narrowed her eyes and Angel was struck by how alike the two women were. "Truth be told, I was rather hoping just learning I was alive would, errr...." she looked toward Buffy, "'give you a happy' I believe is what I mean." She grinned as she saw Buffy cross her arms over her chest defensively. "However, you were merely relieved, then guilt ridden. Which *so* wasn't in my plan."

"What exactly is your plan?" Buffy asked scornfully.

Kiara pulled up a chair and sat down in front of them, her elbows resting atop her knees as she leaned forward. Her silver eyes were soft and fathomless as she looked at Angel. "In order for his soul to become permanent - without a curse - he must fight himself for it." She turned to Buffy. "In other words, he has to lose his soul then regain it - without the help of a curse. He must perform a deed that will restore his soul to him."

Buffy stared at her for a long moment, as did Angel. "Why would you want to do this?" she asked Kiara.

Kiara kept her gaze on Angel as she spoke. "Because I know it can be done. And because the threat of Angelus returning to stay is far too great for this world." She sighed, her voice lowering. "And because I love him more than life itself, and I would give anything for him to be happy."

Buffy's green eyes widened as she looked back and forth between the two. The woman was either lying or telling the truth. She didn't know which she'd prefer.

Angel stood up. "Well, that's enough chit-chat for tonight. I don't know about you Buff, but I think Kiara and I need some sleep." He hadn't yet forgotten that dance. "Kiara has dibs on the bed, I'm sleeping on the sofa.....if you promise not to kill each other, I think you should stay in the bedroom with her."

Buffy nodded and picked up her discarded bags. Kiara strolled into the bedroom and picked up a brush to untangle the dark mass tumbling over her shoulders. Angel flopped down on the cushions and covered his eyes with his arms again. It was going to be a long day.





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