Shadows across the heart

TITLE: Shadows across the heart
AUTHOR: Willie J
EMAIL: wmj166@yahoo.com
ARCHIVE SITE(S): http://www.brain-insane.com/beyondcanon/, http://www.adult-fanfiction.org
PAIRINGS: A/X
RATING: NC-17
DISCLAIMER: I don't own any part of Buffy et all, not Angel the Series.
FEEDBACK: Oh please send me feedback, privately or through the list
DISTRIBUTION: List Archives
SPOILERS:
BETA'D BY: Elaine & James…thank you
SUMMARY: The L.A. crew discover more about the Shadow Queen

Chapter 5

Morning stole gently into the room, and with it, came wakefulness. Xander stirred sleepily in Angel's encompassing embrace. Lifting his nose from the hollow behind Angel's ear, he nervously eyed the pale composed face watching him, the previous night activities flashing through his mind. He ducked his head back down, preferring the safety of Angel's neck than to face the blank wall of Angel's eyes anymore.

Then carefully, without looking at the vampire, Xander eased out of the encircling arms and with feigned nonchalance, he ran into the bathroom. He paused in wonder at the incredible spacious room.

“Damn, I could fit my living room and bedroom in this bathroom,” he muttered to himself. Then shaking off his bemusement, he headed to what he assumed was the shower and opened the door, and simply goggled at the neat hangers hanging within. Shutting the door, he looked around again. Trying with limited success to identify what could be perceived as a shower, or even a bathtub. Xander scanned the room, his eyes narrowing on another section. And when he opened the wooden doors, his jaw dropping in disbelief as he gazed in awe at the vast space revealed.

“Holy jumping catfish!”

Only in the wildest imagination could this be remotely considered a shower, he thought shakily as he surveyed the entire area devoted exclusively for bathing. Fuck bathing, he could swim in that circular area, was his admiring thought. Lush green vegetation surrounded a deep granite indentation. Grey, irregular shaped rocks formed a three-foot high wall, while ivy wound its way up gleaming poles of the showerheads.

Six freaking showerheads as a matter of fact. Not one, not two, but SIX freakin' showerheads were in here, he thought in wonder.

“As God is my witness, I ain't gonna take another bath again,” Xander vowed in a solemn whisper. Then he walked down the tier stairs, finally stepping down onto the granite floor. And once he had stepped onto the stone floor, warm water began falling from every showerhead, so that no matter where he stood, he was enveloped in warm, refreshing water. Soon he was lost in the blissful feeling of water flowing over him. His jangled nerves settled, soothed by the calming liquid.

Although no sound other than the rushing water disturbed him, he knew the exact moment Angel entered the shower area. He stiffened slightly, but other than that, gave no sign that he was aware of the vampire’s presence. Lifting his face to the onrushing water, he simply basked in the calming pleasure invoked by the rushing liquid. There was something about showering that always led to peace and relaxation within him.

Angel studied the boy’s muscular, naked back for a few seconds then looked away. He knew Xander was aware that he was only a few feet away. But if Xander wanted to ignore him, that was okay by him. He didn’t exactly know how to react himself to what took place last night.

Turning his face to the water pouring down on him, he simply concentrated on being clean.

Xander quivered under the soothing ministrations of the water. He twitched slightly when a finger idly stroked down his spine. Fingering the cleft of his behind, a soft kiss was placed on the slope of his shoulder. Turning his head to the side, Xander gazed into Angel’s questioning eyes. Long arms stole around his waist, gently pressing him back against a growing hardness. He dropped his eyes, hardly knowing what to say. Last night was last night, but this was the cold light of day. He didn’t want to refuse Angel, not after everything they shared last night. It felt good not to fightt tot to feel the bond forcing them to have sex.

He turned in Angel’s loose embrace. Placing a hesitant kiss against a cool, firm cheek, Xander stroked his fingers over the broad chest. Keeping his eyes firmly fixed on his fingers, he slowly trailed his hand downwards, until he reached his objective. “Last night it was three for me and only two for you,” he whispered, finally raising his eyes to Angel's intent gaze.

His lips quirked upwards at the fire that began burning in that heated stare. “Wanna make it three up?” Xander wiggled his brows lasciviously and the nervous dread in his stomach subsiding somewhat at the lightening of Angel’s bland expression.

The vampire shook his head with a smile. “You don't have to do that,” he stated gently, trying to catch the nimble fingers as they caressed him. As he gazed into Xander's water beaded face, he couldn't stop his helpless response to the strong digits fondling his swelling organ. Moaning softly, his hips began a languid dance almost of their own.

The dark-haired young man swallowed heavily, lowering his eyes to the lengthening shaft, then back to the whiskey-colored eyes. “But what if I want to...” and he dropped to his knees before his mate.

Willing or unwilling, they would be yoked together for a long time. He had to find some measure of acceptance. Right now, he needed some time to think about what happened last night. How he had totally lost himself in the act of sex with Angel. And having sex with Angel again wasn’t really going to do anything but confused him more than he already was. Confused that is. Angel gave him something last night…it was only fair that he tried to return some of it.

Studying the thick uncircumcised organ quivering in front of him for a nervous few seconds, Xanwondwondered how in the world he would be able to fit all of THAT in his mouth. Then he grinned slightly, one inch at a time.

He leaned forward, simultaneously pulling down Angel’s foreskin and blowing a gust of air on the mushroom shaped head. Observing closely, the minute flexing that his action caused and he smiled. Despite the steam rising, coiling through the air, a scent reached him, a smell that made his mouth water. He was surprised by the sharp clenching, deep within his belly, that the smell evoked. Closer he shifted to the turgid length, his hands rising to grasp Angel’s hips for balance. His eyes half-closed, Xander licked a long hot trail up the satiny organ, then back down. He slid a probing, inquisitive tongue against the fragile vein that bisected the length of the cool and succulent weight of Angel’s heavy balls. Beneath his curious touch, the soft velvet purse seemed to pulsate.

He buried his nose in the loose hanging sac, feeling dizzy from the intensely sensual scent that seemed to surround him from the thickening sex. His mouth parting, Xander rubbed his face in the soft flesh. There was a look of drug wonder on his hidden face, each time he inhaled the sexual fragrance that making him twitch and quiver. With every breath, he fell deeper under the spof Aof Angel’s potent masculinity. On his knees, he felt like some kind of cat, rolling in his own personal patch of catnip. Or some type of pagan, worshipping at the altar of a virile god of sex.

Though water softened the dark curls at Angel’s groin, Xander could still feel the tensile wiriness scratching delicately at his cheeks as he rubbed his face in the fleshy sacs, breathing in Angel’s distinct aroma. The solidity of Angel’s heavy shaft caressed his forehead with each turn of headhead. Xander moaned, confusion roiling in his mind. Out of the blue, a bewildering echoing need was stirring, stinging his flesh to life.

Firmly putting thoughts of Spike out of his head, Xander concentrated on this one task, that of pleasing Angel. The water beating down upon his head kept him in a calm state of mind, and feeling a little distant from his actions. Unnerved yes, but he wasn’t totally wigged out over what he was doing.

Angel had given him something last night. Something special. Angel had given him a chance - them a chance, to start off this insane, unnatural relationship on a fresh page. Angel had opened up, allowing him within. The vampire had made him feel good, physically and mentally, about himself. nig night, they tried to meet as equal partners in this crazy mess. And they succeeded somewhat in their objective. It was only right to return what had been given to him.

Feeling hands grip his slicken head, Xander licked a long hot line upwards, to tackle the base of Angel’s upright stem. He enjoyed the slight hitch in breath that Angel gave. It let him know that what he was doing was getting to Angel. He made the long, sturdy cock his focus. Nothing existed in his world but this fat, marble shaft. Xander’s eyes closed, and he was unaware of the low moan that slipped from his lips as he kissed and suckled at thick, veiny organ. Nor the senseless murmurings that fell from his mouth.

The warmth surrounded him: the water, Angel’s thighs warmed by the shower, the loose hanging sacs, and most especially, the penis, slick and wet from the heat of his mouth. Lost in his consuming task, thoughts of Spike were the farthest thing from his mind. Only the idea, the need to pleasure Angel, to continue his self-appointed task, ruled his conscious and subconscious mind.

Lowering his head, Xander began to gently nip Angel’s soft wrinkled sacs, sucking the skin into the warmth of his mouth. He moved back to the leaking shaft, his tongue deftly capturing the fluid bubbling from the bulbous head. He enjoyed the way Angel’s cock seemed to move as if anxious for his wet caress. He eased his mouth, with excruciating slowness, down the glistening glans. So thick was Angel, that Xander’s mouth was shaped in a perfect ‘O’ around the width and circumference of the mighty rod.

He laughed silently at Angel’s eager buck into the slick wetness of his mouth. Blinking through the water that still beat down on him, Xander slid a glance upwards, watching the impassivity fracture on Angel’s face. The stain of human brown now gone, hungry golden eyes gazed with narrow-mined focus on him. Silently urging him to continue.

Not that he had any intention of stopping, Xander mused to himself. He wasn’t stopping until the fat lady sang. He peeked up at Angel, or until the vampire roared, he amended his thought. Easing his head upwards, Xander teasingly flicked his tongue. Up and down the long shaft. Wrapping it as much around the turgid shaft as possible.

Angel face was tight with pleasure, the skin drawn sharply across his cheeks. He cupped Xander’s head in his hands, his mouth parted as soft groans of ecstasy fell from his lips. His hips thrust back and forth. Sliding and gliding with sensuous slowness as he sought the warm interior past boy’s succulent lips. A low whimper escaped Angel when Xander dug his tongue into the slit at the head of his penis. However, he nearly howled when the boy slid that hot, sucking mouth back down over his fat cock. Groaning softly, he was taken deep within the moisture rich hollow. Languid sweeps from the boy’s tongue each time he withdrew had him eagerly sliding his aching shaft back for more of the sleek caresses within the liquid torrid heat. He thrust his hips back and forth, struggling to keep himself to the pace of Xander’s movement. Harshly he began to pant as he tried to keep his movements slow and easy. God knows, he didn’t want to choke the boy. He squirmed when a warm hand began fondling his balls, tugging on them gently.

Within the steamy enclosure, misty coils of vapor wended their way upwards, adding to their dreamlike surrounding. Encircled as they were by plants and hot, humid air, Xander felt like he was in private rainforest. The soft cries from Angel, rushing sound of water hitting the granite bottom, only heightened the sensuality of the movement.

Angel’s hands flexed, cupping Xander’s head tighter as his urgency grew. The room seemed to spin, so he closed his eyes swiftly, a throaty groan spilling from his mouth as the darkness behind his lids only emphasize the erotic expertise of Xander’s carnal mouth. He let himself go, falling into the sensations building, spreading from the boy’s warm, wet mouth to his dick. Xander was too damn good at what he was doing. Too slick. Too greedy.

Angel opened his eyes and gazed down at Xander’s intent face. Watching, with a sense of awe and wonder, the look of bottomless pleasure on the boy’s face as Xander ministered to him. He slid a hand down to the boy’s face, tenderly stoking his thumb over Xander’s ballooning cheek.

His pace, now speeding up, Angel’s hands gripped Xander head tightly as he plowed the boy’s mouth with long, deep strokes. Easily the young man kept up with him, relaxing his throat and allowing Angel even more space to thrust. A strangled curse spewed from above at his action as the lengthy organ slid down his throat. Angel shook, a low mewl of bliss coming from the vampire when Xander hummed softly. The vibrations traveled and set off fireworks in Angel’s brain. His hips took an even more swinging, dancing rhythm as he plunged his cock deeper into the avid, sucking mouth. Xander twisted his head from side to side, drawing his head back as his tongue continued to lash at the pale ivory shaft.

Slowly down completely, despite the grip Angel had on his head, Xander pulled completely off the thick cock and buried his face in Angel’s balls, nuzzling into them and inhaling deeply that wonderful, sensual odor. Swallowing them, rolling the fleshy sacs in his mouth, he slid his hand upwards and began fisting the thick marble staff. Then it was back to downing Angel’s tool. The taste of the silken organ thrusting between his lips only made him crave more. The scent, flavor was nearly overwhelming his senses and Xander moaned his gratification. Ravenousness hunger was pulsating through him, much like the throbbing in the veiny shaft that was so thoroughly fucking his face.

He slid a hand downwards, grasping his own straining cock. Squeezing, with alternating lightness and punishing tightness, his rapid movements keeping pace with the long pole thrusting in and out of his mouth. Even without Angel’s tight grip or the increasing moans from above, he would have known his mate was fast approaching meltdown. He bore down on the succulent organs, lashing hungrily at the cock filling his mouth. Moaning, he was eager to taste Angel’s release. Only thoughts of ‘how soon’ filled his mind.

Angel gasped, his attention turned inward as an electrifying rush tore through him. His thighs quivered under the strain of remaining on his feet. In the midst of so much pleasure, it was all he could do to brace himself and remain upright.

A low, almost whining sound came from his lips. His lashes fluttered, his eyes rolling back in his head. He was hardly aware his demonface had taken over as his orgasmic release slammed into him. Every muscle seemed to stiffen, freeze in his climatic moment. The only movement was his cock, jerking as his seed spurted deep within the boy’s throat.

Then his hips moved once, twice in an involuntary spasm. He held Xander’s face pressed tight in the nest of curls at the base of his shaft. A tight hiss through gritted teeth escahim him with eacurt.urt.

Xander, despite the tight grip, still managed to pull back. Enabling him to capture on his tongue some of Angel’s release. His hand, a blur of movements, as the fire within him swelled and thundered from his own organ. Droplets splattering Angel’s legs and feet, mingling with the water and flowing away. His mind on the thick organ filling his mouth, Xander swallowed thirstily, hungrily as seemingly quarts of fluid filled him, spilling out from the sides of his lips and dripping down his face. Becoming lost and diluted with the water still pouring down on them.

Angel dropped to his knees, with Xander still sucking at his cock. His muscles were virtually limp with release. He stroked his hands gently over the boy’s face as Xander settled, contentedly nursing at his cock.

“Enough, ciallach,” he gasped, the endearment springing forth naturally, as he pulled Xander’s avid mouth from his sensitive cock. They gazed at each other, then away. Uncomfortable with each other and struggling with a sense of betrayal. What they did, what they shared was necessary, but still they felt as if by enjoying the pleasure of each other’s body, then they betrayed the two men that still lived within their hearts.

“We…we…better get dressed,” Angel said quietly, getting to his feet. He helped Xander to his and gave the boy a sidelong look. A silent contemplative look as he reflected ow how his opinion of Xander had changed. Back in the days when he roamed Sunnydale, just the mere appearance of the boy had him clenching his fists to suppress the annoyance that Xander’s presence always stirred within him. Too many times he had been the butt of the boy’s ceaseless mocking wit, saw the look of dark, frustrated anger in Xander’s eyes. Only in extraordinary circumstances, or dire need would any sane person yoke them together. And neither Buffy nor Giles were in need of psychiatric help back then. Slayer and Watcher both recognized the hostility and tried to defused it, or simply kept them both on opposite sides of the room.

He had once thought Xander was immature. A cowardly fool, an ignorant baying yokel, fit for nothing but mocking his betters. A ruse designed to hide the boy’s considerable shortcomings. Xander was a wretched little guttersnipe, one with more hair than sense he had once thought. While he had never questioned the boy’s commitment to the group, or his loyalty and his love for Buffy, Giles and Willow, however he was slightly contemptuous and always dismissed Xander as unimportant. Even after the boy had forced him to show him to the Master’s lair, he had still perceived Xander as nothing more than an irritant. After all, the boy was only a human. A human with not special discernable skills unlike Willow, Giles and Buffy.

At least he had until Angelus came roaring out of the dark, ripping him from their shared body and thrusting him aside. He had witnessed every depredation, felt the cruel delight Angelus took in his depravity. Writhed in mingled shame and horror, he fought to win free, to retake the body to no avail. Praying for a true death, and denied each time Angelus and Buffy met. Within his imprisonment, he roared his silent fury at her lack of resolve. Screamed his rage at his darker twin’s malicious laughter.

When Buffy had fallen ill, and Angelus showed up at the hospital to ‘visit’ a stricken Buffy, he, like Angelus, both had mild reactions to the sight of Buffy’s lone defender: Xander. He had felt a mild concern that Angelus would kill the boy, but hope grew that with the boy’s death that perhaps Buffy would at last destroy Angelus. His darker half only felt mild amusement. They had both dismissed the boy as nothing.

They were both wrong. Xander had faced Angelus and no matter the terror that spewed from the boy’s pores like a steady rushing breeze, there was a quiet, steady strength in the lone defender’s eyes.

Faced with the boy and the mortal challenge he posed, Angel knew, he KNEW Angelus would simply ripe Xander’s throat out. But to his shocked surprise, it was Angelus that backed down.

And reviewing what had happened, Angel couldn’t see WHY his dark self retreated. Xander was terrified, of that he was 100% certain. So why was it Angelus that had backed down?

It took him a short while to comprehend what Angelus understood in seconds. Push a human too far, threatened someone or something he holds dear and not even in Hell would you be safe from his vengeance. Freezing Xander’s image in his mind, he saw what made Angelus pause and retreat. That look in Xander’s eyes. It would be a pyrrhic victory, but the dark vampire would not exist long to savor his triumph.

Tremendous loyalty, a quiet, unspoken courage and a love to soften even the coldest heart.

In the cool, rational part of his brain Angel could, perhaps, admit that to be loved by Xander, would probably be the stuff of legends.


After they had dressed and eaten the food that had mysteriously appeared on the small breakfast table, Angel watched with a sinking feeling as the bouncy young man was replaced by a nervous, unsure youth. He sighed at the hunched and slumped shoulders that gradually replaced the broad shoulder look the boy had had. He eyed the barely hidden, wary expression that lurked in Xander's eyes, and the hesitant posture that the young man had assumed.

“Xander…” he spoke softly, a look of frustration in his eyes. He badly wanted to shake the boy, which he knew would only spook Xander even more. Dear God, what happened to the smart-ass, flippant boy from Sunnydale? When was he replaced by this beaten down version of a mortal?

And so lost in his thoughts, Xander jumped when Angel spoke. “What…?!” he screeched in surprise, then reddened in discomfort. Glaring at the vampire with an angry expression, placing the blame of his losing his cool squaring on the way too broad shoulders of Deadboy.

Angel blinked in surprise at the response, then rallied himself. “Okay, what's wrong?”

“Wrong? Wrong?! Why would you think something is wrong? What could possibly be wrong? You get to go out in the sun, we're living la vida loca and in the lap of luxury, and a mighty fine lap it is,” Xander winked knowingly at a blank-faced vampire, and continued to babble with expansive cheer. “We're gonna find what the hell is messing with our friends, then we're gonna go in kickin’ asses and taking names! Well, maybe not exactly taking names since we kinda already know our friends' names but the ass kickin’ part, I am so DOWN with that…big time! Then everyone’ll be saved and life…” and here Xander faltered to a nervous halt. His determined babble of words petering out under Deadboy's dark patient stare. He dropped his eyes uncomfortably.

“...won’t be the same anymore. Not for you, not for me.” Angel quietly finished Xander's rush of words. Clear regret in his eyes at the quick gleam of suspicious moisture that had Xander blinking furiously.

And taking a deep shaky breath, the young man nodded silently. It was all he could do, as he didn't trust his voice or his seesawing emotions. They were seeing and sawing so bad that he was starting to get motion sickness. Actually he felt like he was verging alarmingly on the edge of simply breaking down and crying like a big ole baby. And while it would certainly be a stitch to watch Deadboy's panicky expression it sure as hell wasn't worth it to let go of his stoic manhood like that, Xander thought with morbid amusement. The final jest of the doomed, he thought hollowly.

“Yeah...once again Xander Harris is fate's little buttmonkey,” Xander said bitterly. “But this time the bitch decided it would be a fuckin' riot to throw you into the mix,” he finished with a sour twist of his lips as he turned away from his Defender.

But Angel merely shrugged in unconcern. Then reaching out a long arm, he pulled the worried boy back to him and studied the miserable face. He gave Xander a wry grin. “Actually it's the other way around. After all, I AM a few centuries older than you,” he said with feigned lofty disdain.

Xander's head jerked up, his expression one of disbelief as he gazed at the vampire. Great Day Miss Agnes! Deadboy was trying to cheer HIM up! He blinked at the half-smile on Angel's face. And he didn't know whether to laugh hysterically or whether to simply accept the gesture for what it was...comfort.

With an unknown maturity, he smiled hesitantly, his smile growing at the unmistakable relief that filled Deadboy's anxious gaze. “Thanks...” he stated huskily, when they finally left the spacious bedroom and entered the elevators. There was an uncommon note of sincerity in his voice.

Angel felt like squirming as an ugly feeling of betrayal slid across his soul. “For what?” he asked gruffly, glaring at the closed metal doors. Praying that the boy wasn't going to get all sentimental on him.

“For reminding me that someone else's problems are a whole lot bigger and fucked up than mine,” Xander replied in that same quiet voice. A hidden smile washed across his battered soul as the invisible tension that nearly had Deadboy vibrating eased away.

The vampire darted a quick look at his broad-shouldered mate, seeing the dejectedly slumping boy slowly sghteghten and an air of confidence fairly radiate from Xander. And silently he sighed, knowing that the boy's attitude was about as real as a unicorn. But when the door slid open and Gunn, Wes and Cordy flashed cool looks at the young man, he couldn't help but tietlietly whisper praise to Xander for trying. He was surprised at the rush of pleasure when the boy darted a shy smile at him in return.

This morning set the pattern for the next few days. With Gunn, Cordy and Wes struggling to set aside their hostility towards Xander as they worked to uncover the mystery of the Shadow Queen.

And with the deciphering skills of Angel and Wesley adding to the search, they were swiftly uncovering startling information regarding the Shadow Queen. They found that she had many names, Shadow Queen, Dark Lady, Lady of Blood and Pain, Queen of Suffering. But finding more details was proving to be particularly difficult; however what they were uncovering was well on its way towards giving them permanent nightmares.

All the scholarly demons felt the urgency pulsating through Lord Xander. They combed frantically through the rows upon rows of books. Referencing and cross-referencing everything they could find that even so much as hinted at the word Shadow. It was a minor, a novice scholar that unearthed an ancient and fragile sheath of papyrus. The young demon nervously brought the book to Arun.

Arun examined the sheath of papers closely. His eyes widened and he drew in a swift breath of shock. “My Lord!” he exclaimed, hurrying to Xander and the others. “This…this…was written by Bra’ral One-Arm.”

Xander looked puzzled while both Angel and Wesley looked like they were about to faint.

“B…Bra…Bra’ral One-Arm?” Angel squeaked, his voice rising in his excitement. Wesley clutched at his heart, an expression of utter longing on his face.

“Yes…” Arun whispered hoarsely, his gaze locked on the fragile, brittle papyrus.

Gunn and Xander exchanged uneasy looks, while the two women carefully eased away from Arun, Angel and Wesley. The four young humans were united in thinking the two demons and human looked like those papers were the last piece of food on earth…and they had been fasting for days. They definitely did NOT want to get in the way.

“So, uhm…who is this Bra guy? And can we assume that he’s definitely not of the he-she variety? You know, the ones that like to run around in women’s underwear?” Xander asked cautiously, then jumped back when all three turned angry looks on him.

Swiftly Angel calmed himself. “No…Bra’ral One-Arm was a demon. His writings were some of the earliest recorded works of demonkind. It’s been believed lost for thousands of years.” Greedily Angel looked at the sheaths of writings in Arun’s hands. “And we have them,” he murmured possessively. A slow smile of dawning pleasure was on his face. Ignoring Wesley’s eager hands reaching for the sheath of papers, Angel gently he took the notes from Arun’s hands. Then his face became puzzled, he turned the papers upside down, and peered again at the words, one eyes closed while squinting with the other.

His face fell. “Dammit…I can’t read any of it!” he snarled furiously, his eyes flickering between brown and amber. Just a hair from turning gold as he sgledgled to master his temper.

Peering over Angel’s shoulder, his mouth moving silently, Wesley allowed himself a tiny smirk. “Oh, but I can,” he murmured. Calmly he reached out and extracted the papers from Angel’s grasp. Handling the fragile, worn writings delicately he turned papyrus sideways.

And studying the words even more intently, Wesley face became drained of color as he deciphered the faded writings. Becoming a pale, pasty white.

“Wes…don’t fall out on us now,” Gunn warned the man in a hoarse voice. He was alarmed at the washed out look that flooded the man’s face. “Tell us what it says.”

Wesley looked up, then nodded shakily. “Untold millennia ago, seven Gods walked the earth, mixing with the lesser beings of the world,” he read slowly from the faded print.

“Capricious as a children, the Elder Gods were capable of great kindness. But much like a child, they were capable of such exquisite cruelty. The lesser beings that existed on the mortal and demon plane were but dancing, gamboling toys for their amusement. And among the Elder Gods, there existed Alla Xul. Dark, shadowy Alla Xul. Born from the dark psyche of mortals and demons alike, the dim void within their minds, she was the youngest of the gods. And the most feared,” the learned man said quietly. He looked up, his eyes reflecting his creeping uneasiness. A feeling, he could see, that was shared by those at the table.

Cordy shivered, an invisible miasma creeping over her skin, probing for entrance to her soul. Fred was huddled in her chair, trying to make herself as small as possible, while Gunn had a set look on his face. Facing his fear and yet stubbornly determined to fight his way past it. Even with the seasoned, grim faced Warriors, among the safe confines of the Library every individual felt an oozing, threatening evil encircling them. Even the gathered Warriors shifted restlessly, a faint look of disturbance on their broad faces.

Of Angel, only blankness reigned on his face; yet, the vampire’s eyes betrayed his growing uneasiness. Underneath the table, Xander’s hand stole into a cool, comforting grasp; his disquiet evidenced by his rapidly blinking eyes and a tightening effect around his mouth.

With a nervous lick of his tongue across his lips, Wesley forced himself to continue reading. His voice was hesitant, stumbling slightly as he came across unfamiliar words…

“In the ancient days, the Shadow Queen was known as Alla Xul, the youngest of the Elder Gods. She was by far the most beautiful of the Seven. Yet she was a terrifying creature. All the gods were capricious, rewarding or dealing out cruel punishments to their subjects for some unknown offense, but Alla Xul was the most feared of them all.

For unlike the other Gods, her actions towards those she considered ‘lesser’ to her most glorious self was with the full intent to cause the most harm. Alla Xul enjoyed causing pain and misery to those less than she. Skewering her screaming victims upon spears, driving them to madness and despair, Alla Xul relished her power over both demons and humans. Laying bare their nightmares, forcing the darkest secrets and desires out into the open for all to see. Laughing with gleeful delight as anguished screams filled her ears. All the gods laughed, but in their laughter was a thread of worry.

Alla Xul’s power was increasing while their waned. Their worshipers were becoming scarce while Alla Xul’s grew. And she reveled in the terror and loathing her name inspired.

Alla Xul.

She drew more and more followers. They were drawn to her sensuous, bloated darkness in droves. Wishing power, both races pledged their fealty to Alla Xul. But her regard was a chancy thing. A two-headed blade that would often than not, find a supplicant an unwilling participant in her games.

Yet still her seductive dark power was fervently courted. Cities were built to honor her darkness, and she was worshiped as a Queen. All that was fell and evil were drawn to the City of Shadows. And she became known as the Shadow Queen. Presiding over a vast city of twisted and malevolent denizens. And unnatural creatures swelled her city, forming armies that swarmed over other cities.

The wailing and gnashing of teeth rose to the heaven as her victorious force rode triumphantly back home. Thousands of captives were driven to the City of Shadows. Harsh screams of agony rose from the many bloody altars, a fitting tribute to the Shadow Queen’s fearsome power. Some of the captives, driven insane by torment pledged their souls to her.

She grew even more, swelling like an overblown fruit. For now, she c see see how different she was from them. With her brothers and sisters, their acts of cruelty was at best indifferently done. More often than not, it was not deliberate.

But for her, she found the greatest joy in causing pain and torment to the bright sparks that danced on the face of thrld.rld. The Shadow Queen wallowed in the misery, the suffe cau caused dir direct actions from her. The screams that issued from their mouths as she gently caressed their flesh with stone knives, slowly pulled strips of flesh from their writhing bodies…as tas the sweetest music to her ears.

The other gods remonstrated her, chiding her to temper her acts of cruelty. But the Queen saw the truth behind their words: they feared her! And arrogant was she with her discovery, her behavior grew imperiously disdainful towards her brothers and sis. s.

Again and again her brethren came to her, to plead fearfully with her to desist in her doings. Yet time and again, she contemptuously spurned their words. And like a greedy gluttonous child, avid for new delights and new sensations, in revenge the youngest goddess turned her malevolent attention to the still rich and isolated holdings of her family: their devoted worshippers.

While her armies of dark, unnatural creatures were large, they were not quite as vast as the combined holdings of her brethrens. But there was another way…

With the advent of millionsworsworshippers, her powers increased. And gleefully like a child with a new toy, she crept into the hearts and minds of both humankind and demonkind. Suborning their innate natures, twisting their desire and bending them to her will. Subtly, and with insidious patience she corrupted the hearts and souls of brothers and sisters’ people. By the by the time her armies had arrived, she had weakened her family to such an extent they were virtually helpless.

Her armies overran city after city. Millions of people were lost in the battle, hers just as much as her brethren’s. But each pain racked death of her followers, some willingly sacrificing their lives to her glory, increased her power. She slew her brothers and sisters, personally drawing out their pain and suffering with avid eyes.

Singing peans to her name, her worshippers drove the captives of the destroyed gods back to the City of Shadows. There they would feast with the screams of the defeated ringing sweetly in their ears.

And the physical world shuddered and gro, fi, finally kneeling at her feet.

She was Queen of the World.

But there was another sister. A sister that the Shadow Queen failed to know, so devoted to death and misery, or to sense. A goddess with a dual nature far more pronounced than the others. She was weakest goddess oem aem all, yet the most powerful. For without her, they would have no worshippers at all.

Gaia, the Earth Mother. The silent one and FirstBorn. She was Life-giving to all that resided upon her body. Without her, no one, not even her younger brothers and sisters, would exist without her.

As the world began tilting out of balance toward the endless Dark, as pain and misery began outweighing good, she struck.

(“Yea, Gaia,” Xander muttered faintly.)

The world went wild. Tornados to the north, volcanoes to the east, hurricanes to the west, and earthquakes to the south rocked the world. Vast tracks of land sheared off and fell into the oceans creating tidal waves, a combination of earthquakes and underwater volcanoes sheared off monstrous slices of land masses and separated them from the original; mountains vanished or formed huge escarpments, other mountains formed creating natural, almost impassible, barriers.

By the time the reshaping of the earth was done, more than a million beings lay dead, crushed, drowned, buried or boiled. Thousands of captives vanished or dead, her people likewise. Significantly reducing the Shadow Queen’s powerbase.

Considerably weaken by the lack of followers, the Queen found herself reduced to one small location. To her angry surprise, she f her herself imprisoned behind some type of barrier, preventing her from moving beyond her confines. She could still sense her distant subjects but they were so far removed from her that it was impossible to draw on them. However, she still had the ones confined with her along with hundreds of captives. Thus she turned her attention towards increasing the number that was within her sphere. She would figure out a way, but her warriors must be ready.

In addition to tonstonstant upheaval of the earth, there came a drastic change in the weather.

Colder and colder it grew. And for the first time, the Queen’s harsh exhortations fell on deaf ears. Demons and humans were dying by the dozens, unused to the sudden drop in temperature.

The Shadow Queen, weakened further, ruthlessly culled her worshippers in an effort to maintain her waning power. The number of her followers was drastically reduced, but she kept a tight grip on those that she could still touch.

Thousand of years later, slowly ear earth warmed, and she began recovering. She had been clever enough not to waste the resources of her captives. The females she had repeatedly raped by demons and human alike, producing child after child in the ensuing years. The males equally were raped by her female worshippers, allowing the women to take the seed from the men to create more progeny. All infants were immediately taken away and raised in accordance with her teachings.

The number of fanatic followers had swelled to a glorious number by the time she had gained enough strength to destroy the barrier. And like a tide of maggots, the Shadow Queen and her army of unnatural creatures poured through the weakened barrier.

Yet Gaia had not been unbusy in the intervening years. She was the quintessential of Balance. Death/Birth; old/new; male/female; destruction/life; demon/human…all were welcome upon her vast breast. But the Shadow Queen had thrown matters out of proportion. There was no Balance…only death. Endless misery. The wails of the torment, the blood of her victims soaked Great Mother of us all.

During the interval of years, with natural barriers of earth and water keeping the Shadow Queen from the rest of her worshippers, Gaia subtly began shaping the minds and hearts of her brethren’s former worshippers. Even those of the Shadow Queen, for the first time free from her dark, oppressive presence chose to remain that way. Those tried to cling to the old ways found themselves swiftly outmatched by the other survivors. They were given a choice: turn aside from the way of the Shadow Queen or die. Many chose to joyfully embrace the teaching of their dreaded Queen and chose death.

Hundreds more chose life, rejecting Alla Xul’s teachings of death, pain and suffering.

But Gaia knew she would not be able to keep her sister from breaking through the barriers, but she needed enough time to strengthen the people. Guiding, teaching them silently as was her way to harness HER power. Reaching out, Gaia tapped into a vast power; opening herself up to the might of the universe in order to sustain her those that she guarded. Carefully, creating pocket universes to which she gently prodded some of the demons into and sealed them within. When they had learned how to escape, they would be ready.

And as she did in the animal kingdom, so she did with the human- and demonkind. First by subtlety, she separated the two species, human from demon kind. Allowing that what was once familiar to become unfamiliar. Different. New to each species was vast differences with each other. Until finally human and demon were separated by a gulf that seemed almost insurmountable.

All the while she continued her selective breeding of the two species. Gradually shortening the humans’ lifespan, to make them seek the knowledge around them; and increasing the demons’ lifespan, forcing them to master that within themselves.

Dividing her time and attention, she silently encouraged both species. But there were a select few that she devoted more of herself. Taking them further along the path of knowledge and power than any human or demon had ever been. Yet the Shadow Queen, weakened by the loss of millions of followers, still had more than sufficient power to severely curtail the aspiration of any human or demon that dared challenge her. So Gaia, ruthlessly as only she could be, culled through the ‘Special Ones’ until she finally had what she wanted. Within the mass of humans, she had four distinct strains that flowed through the humans. A trait that would continue to breed true for generations to come.
r shr she knew Alla Xul would finally break free.

She had kept a careful watch on her remaining sibling, hoping that with time her younger sister’s avaricious need would fade. For thousands of years she worked tirelessly to softened Alla Xul’s all-consuming hunger for power. And lonforefore the barrier came down, Gaia had came to the sorrowful cusiousion that Alla Xul would never change.

But she had prepared the way as best as she could.

Long after demons had become a wistful legend in the world, by dint of silent urgings, and signs, she prodded one of her devotees, a female, to a lonely forsaken hilltop. Her name was Della. Rumors of seeing strange, unnatural creatures and mysterious disappearances had reached the woman’s ears.

Gaia, passing easily to the other side, selected another. He was a most fearsome demon mage. T’nan was most skilled in the art of battle and war, with many victories and female slaves his chosen reward. With guile and careful nudges, he was guided to where the barrier was beginning to weaken. He caught on quickly. Summoning his power he brought the barrier down. Thus releasing him into the world.

And to Della’s startled gaze.

He was a warrior and not one to hesitate in battle. However, she was also not one to be dismissed lightly, her magics were indeed formidable. They struggled, upon the hilltop before his physical strength overcame her.

Unusual as it was, during the fight T’nan found himself admiring the darkness of the female, so very unlike his beautiful emerald coloration. She had no teeth to speak of to rend and tear, save for the flat even ones within her mouth. No delicate graceful hooves of black did she have, nor a pair of noble, twisting horns at her temple.

Despite their differences, he could read the defiance in the set of her shoulders, the anger in the tightness of her face. And he did not know why, but he found his loins quickening with a fever to have this proud beauty in his bed.

Many long days and nights, T’nan courted his fierce outland beauty. With Gaia’s prompting, it was a forgone conclusion that Lady Della would fall. And in the falling, they became far more.

They became the First. Guardian and Defender of the East.

They each had access to more magics than they ever dreamed. For the first time, they, or rather Lady Della could directly access Gaia.

For the first time, they understood the deep mysteries of their two worlds.

Joining them, came three more pairs of demon/human couples: Denada and his mate, the demon Justn. Two males, chosen Guardian and Defender of the West.

Sela and her mate, the demon S’len. Guardian and Defender of the North.

Gregori and his demoness mate, Mela. Guardian and Defender of the South. For hundreds of years, forsaking their separate people, the four demons and humans learned at the feet of their Mistress. Striving with all their might to ideas, magics that they had not the power to attempt. They did not yet fully understand.

Then finally, Gaia appeared to them one last time.

And died…

…releasing all her potent strength into her Chosen.

For days the eight beings lay as if dead, near insensible with the torrent of knowledge raging through their heads. Gaia’s last gift to her ‘children’.

When they awoke, it was with clear understanding of what they must do. And when the barrier fell, they were waiting. Eight grim-faced warriors, with vast armies of human and demons at their back.

Terrible was the clash when Alla Xul’s people met those of the others. However, her people, having grown fat and lazy slaughtering meek slaves fell quickly to the wrath of their would-be slaves.

Alla Xul tried mightily to seize the minds of the armies to no avail. The Guardian of the North, backed by ttrentrength of her demon mate, gave her all to protecting the minds and hearts of the defending force.

The wizards and sorcerers of Alla Xul cast fearsome magics at the raging horde, but the Guardians of the West and South, backed by their demon mates, proved more than a match for them.

Leaving Alla Xul to the Guardian and Defender of the East. In an increasing brilliant light, tapping into all the secret and vast power of the earth, and even tying into the universe and life itself, they cast her and thousands of her devoted followers from this world and into a world that Gaia had prepared for her dark, wayward sister.

When the people had recovered, they found land surrounding where the two had stood barren of all life for as far as forty men lying head to feet. And in the center, lay the dried husks of Lady Della and Lord T’nan.

“So speak I, Bra’rel One-Arm of the tale passed from my sire’s sire, and from his sire’s sire,” Wesley said in a voice grown hoarse with his reading. “For thousands of years, as the humans reckon time, this tale has been told from father to son, mother to daughter. To warn us, never forget Alla Xul, Shadow Queen. For it has been foretold that she will return.”

Swallowing hard, to ease his dry throat, Wesley met the others wide eyes. Exchanging horrified and bleak, dismayed looks, without a word being said, they turned their attention back to gathering knowledge. Their desperation even stronger, as they intensified their search on HER. Xander felt a brief burst of triumphant satisfaction at the grim expression overtaking the others. This was proof that those...things were just as dangerous as he had told them. Now they believed. And he sent up a silent prayer, begging whatever deity or power that actually gave a goddamn that they were not too late.

It was Gunn that found the first clue, struggling with then sounding out the unfamiliar language that both Angel and Wesley agreed was based on the ancient Sumerian writing.

The large, dark one-time street warrior found mention of the 'gigim xul' and 'alla alal xul', they already knew ‘Alla Xul’ meant ‘Evil God’, so it was a sure bet that this had to do with the Shadow Queen. The other words, he was relatively sure meant 'evil spirit' and 'evil destroyer God'. They found a similar passage in another book referring to the ‘gurru unmaate summu nura’ or the loosely translated version 'an army of shades of those who are deprived of light'. Cordy shivered with renewed horror and found herself preferring the Sumerian version, it sounded a lot less scary.

Because if what they had so far uncovered was true, the Shadow Queen and some of her minions were only partially in this world. What they had managed to piece together was the dismal knowledge that the Shadow Queen needed...something on this side to open the doorway between the two worlds. And once that door or portal was open, it would unleash a tide of destruction that the world had never seen. Making World War I, II and the Vietnam war look like little babies sqlingling over building blocks. The death toll would creep ever higher as she gathered strength, until every last thing that drew breath was sacrificed and slaughtered upon the bloody altars of the dreaded Shadow Queen.

Fred found an ominous phrase 'eli baltuti ima' idu mituti' in the books she was going through; and Wesley had a shaken look of understanding on his face when he read the passage that Fred thrust at him. At their inquiring looks he choked out what the phrase meant. “The 'dead will be more numerous than the living'.”

And with an expression matching theirs, Xander bent his head back to the stack of books propped in front of him. Determined that no matter what, he wasn't gonna let his friends down. Besides, he was a veteran of apocalypses, and he wasn't gonna let Senorina Dark Shadows mess up his town.


Three days later, they still hadn't found the essential element that they thought the Shadow Queen was searching for. All they found were hints and pieces of information that more often than not led them to a dead end.

Fruitless searches after searches, that resulted in nothing, brought about a definite lowering of the spirits, Wesley decided wearily as he eyed the phrases swimming around on the page he was looking at. He couldn't even feel a tiniest bit of excitement anymore. Especially since this was the third reference he had come across about a 'gala' then some untranslatable words followed by 'ezebu' and 'dudittu' and then 'shi'.

Which if his skills hadn't become dulled by exhaustion meant that some type of holy men, maybe even priests or monks had taken some kind of ornament or object, made something else out of it and then gave it 'life'. And whatever that thing was, it could open doors... ‘su'ati ayyu petu’. Following all references to this just led to something else about an ‘amelserru ul mumm lu’. While it would be riveting to read about the ‘amelserru’ or the 'child not born of man', however right now it was merely more words that he needed to wade through to find a solution or a way to stop the Shadow Queen. Fascinating no doubt, but it wasn't exactly helping with the urgent nature of the Sunnydale situation.

Wesley shoved away an ancient tomb of obscure Sumerian prophecies in disgust. He had blearily been perusing the book, trying with limited success to find anything that would be helpful. The only definite information he was able to find was that itati xul samu tiit, which they already had drawn the conclusion that she was an evil goddess that seemed to thirst for life. And And his abrupt movement caused the others to regard him briefly before they redirected their tired attention back to their own books. He glanced at his fellow researchers with equally fatigued eyes and wondered if his face looked as drawn and strained as theirs. He gave a weary sneer at Angel, jealous that his erstwhile former lover still looked relatively fresh as a bloody daisy. Then stealing himself, he cast a jaundice eyes at HIM…at Xander. Slowly his eyes narrowed on the boy’s exhausted face. For the first time, he felt a faint spark of pity for the weary youth.

Everything and everyone Xander cared about and loved was in Sunnydale. Win or lose, the boy would still be lost to his friends…his family. Angel’s place was in L.A., so orceorce Xander’s place would also be at the vampire’s side. And Spike, gods above, Spike…that snarky, jeering vampire would surely begin frothing at the mouth over this entire situation should they prove successful in ridding the world of the Shadow Queen. Undoubtedly, casting the blame on Angel.

And looking at the dark shadows lurking under Xander’s eyes that gave the young man nstanstantly bruised look of pain, Wesley conceded that the boy had a certain grim need for answers. For as tired as they were, he suspected that the fate of the boy's friends and lover weighed heavily on Xander's mind that drove the young man to buckle down with grim tenacity.

With secretive eyes, Wesley surreptitiously watched how Angel and Xander interacted with each other. Over the past several days he discovered that he had a tendency towards masochism. Else whyld hld he be guardedly watching the two when no one was looking? And he realized something within the last few days, an instinctual behavioral pattern that he had observed with bitter amusement in his soul…Xander and Angel probably weren't even aware of just how attuned they were to each other.

While Xander, like the rest of them, was fighting the increasingly heavy burden of despair, yet somehow Angel was able to draw off the young man’s negative mood with an unobtrusive touch. And if one was not watching closely, it was almost imperceptive what Angel did…was doing.

The same was equally true for Angel as for Xander. However, instead of despair, a slowly mounting rage gripped the vampire. Yet with a single, almost innocently worded question from Xander, Angel's deadly rage would die down as he was distracted and focused on answering the boy’s question. Oh, the rage was still there, no mistake about THAT. It was just…just that Xander somehow managed to shunt it to the side.

And despite the fact that he knew Angel still cared for him, even perhaps loved him, Wesley came to the bitter truth that he and Angel could no more be together than he would consent to being a vampire. Which was the only way they could, or would, have a chance of being together. But that option was NOT a viable idea. At least not one that he would ever contemplate longer than a second. Thankfully Angel understood and never pressed the issue beyond that one gentle question several days ago. He was a human. And mortal he would be, in life and in death.

Lost in his dark reverie, Wesley started when Gunn touched his arm.

“Yo, English…you still with us?” Gunn asked the pensive man, his dark eyes shadowed with concern over the decidedly fucked up situation they were all in. And while he didn’t exactly blame Xander, he still wasn’t quite able to let go of his resentment towards the kid. Though in actuality he should be feeling grateful that Angel seemed to be on lockdown. At the warm smile that crossed Wesley’s face, he felt his feelings grow stronger for the lean Englishman.

Wesley directed a warm, yet weary smile at his large young friend at the concern evident in the dark gaze. “Yes, I’m with you.” And he turned away with a quiet sigh, warmth stirring in his soul at the concern expressed for him.

So, he missed the arrested look that momentarily stilled Gunn’s face at his unconscious choice of words. But Angel didn’t. And the vampire’s eyes glowed a hot savage yellow before the deadly fire was banked at the faint hiss of pain that slipped from Xander’s lips. Turning his head, Angel was treated to the sight of trickles of blood dripping from Xander’s nose.

Cordy, Wes and Gunn’s eyes went wide at the steady flow of blood, while Angel stared, half-hypnotized by the glistening fluid. It was ’s q’s quick movement of whipping off her shirt to mop up the blood. Something she did ly aly and with great efficiency, all the while ignoring Xander’s angry muffled protests. Slapping his hands away each time he tried to stop her. Despite himself, Wesley felt his lips twitch at the sheer ridiculousness of the scene. Then his eyes widened as to WHY brackets of pain were around Xander's mouth and the boy was suffering a nosebleed. His eyested ted to Angel's shuttered expression. He felt his spirits lift considerably.

However, several hours later he, like the others, was slumped at the table. All were wearing varying expressions of exhaustion and despair. Xander more so than them. He had far more to lose if they failed to find a solution to stopping the Dark Queen.

With a dispirited sigh, Wesley spoke wearily. “I think, perhaps, we need to call a temporary halt…at least for today.” And to Xander’s look of wordless protest, Wesley continued. “Xander, I well understand the gravity of the Sunnydale situation, however we all are extremely tired. And tired people make mistakes. The words are jumbled and meaningless to us at this point.” Grabbing a book he had discarded, he swiftly flicked to a nonsense phrase in the book.

“We all know that the Shadow Queen is searching for a way for her to gain a true physical presence in our world, however, ‘amelserru ezebu’ means a child made out of something. Which is the way all children, mammal or otherwise is come into being. Then there's a reference to a ‘isten su'ati petu’, which means one that opens. These phrases link back to each other. Now, if we take the phrase ‘ati' me peta babka' and translate into 'Gatekeeper, open your gate for me'. And I don't know about anybody else but this means NOTHING! It's not making any...” and his voice trailed off as Xander rose clumsily to his feet. Shaking and quivering in almost every limb as if afflicted with palsy.

“I…I…gotta…uhm…I go now,” Xander stuttered out, his eyes wide. And they could see a dawning horror in the young Scooby’s eyes. A terrifying vision they were not witness to. Lurching away from the table, they watched with astonished faces as he nearly tumbled over a chair partially pulled away from a nearby table, rebound into one of the student Scholars before recovering a semblance of spastic coordination. However, it still took him several attempts to finally close the elevator cage doors up towards the castle. And superior vampiric eyes narrowed on the figure as Xander crouched in the corner of the elevator.

“Everybody…I think Wesley is right. Why don’t you go home for now? Or find a room in the hotel. We’re all tired and exhausted,” he said as he got to his feet. All his attention focused on getting up to the castle as soon as possible.

“But what…I mean…uhm Xander…” Cordy called to Angel’s retreating back. “Well, I guess he wants us to go home or something,” she muttered in a disgruntled tone, but her eyes were troubled. The last time she remembered seeing THAT particular look in Xander’s eyes was during that dark Angelus time. When they were gathered at the hospital praying for Willow to wake from her coma. She bit her lip anxiously and swallowed heavily, a horrible feeling stirring in her. You didn’t need to be a Seer to know that something was rotten in Denmark, but it helped to be well acquainted with both Xander and Willow’s panic modes, she thought with a hidden look to the remaining Hyperians. And weighing the value of her friendship with Wes, of telling the others that something was seriously fucked up and keeping her mouth shut…

“Guys look, obviously Angel, as well as Xander, are as tired and played out as the rest of us. SO I propose we get to stepping before the King of Brood and his challenger come back down,” she said smoothly, already halfway to the hotel elevator. She wasn’t in the least surprised to find the other three hesitantly following behind her. After all, wherever Ms. Cordelia Chase led, men and women alike couldn’t help but to follow, she smirked to herself.

“So what’s the 411 with homme?” Gunn asked as they exited the elevator on the second floor of the hotel.

“Honey, if I had a dollar for every time Xander wigged out over some shit, I woulda been able to afford me a fire-engine red Ferrari,” Cordy replied cynically over her shoulder. Although she felt a brief stab of guilt for avoiding telling them the truth, the whole truth and nothing but truttruth, she easily assuaged her conscience with the firm conviction that whatever the problem, Angel had a firm grasp on it. And Xander. Besides, she already did enough damage to Xander, she thought half-guiltily.

“Anybody up for Chinese then sleep, in that order, speak now or forever hold your peace,” she called out, ignoring the sharp look Wes shot her. She busied herself with dialing their favorite takeout place. And chatting brightly, she surreptitiously relaxed as the suspicious look in Wes' eyes faded. She could only pray that she was doing the right thing.

When Angel finally made his way to the Master bedroom, he was relatively sure of what he would find. The only question was WHY? What secret or secrets had Xander spasming out?

Sure enough, he found the boy curled up outside on the couch. And despite his many repeated ventures outside, he always hesitated before committing that final step of entrusting his well-being to the sun's so-called friendly rays.

“So, any plans of telling me what that was all about?” He asked mildly when it became very evident that Xander intended to ignore him. He perched on the edge of the couch and simply waited, his eyes fixed on the boy's averted face. His gaze narrowing on the faintly quivering lips, and he was a little amazed at Xander's efforts at self-control because if his nose was right, the boy had to be nearly drowning under the despahat hat was wafting off of him.

Xander came back to the present, becoming aware of Deadboy's presence. And with savage iron will, he fought his tears. “I fucked up big time,” he said hoarsely. Almost choking on the enormous lump in his throat that threatened to cut off his air. Which probably wouldn't be such a bad idea right about now, he thought wildly.

“Have you ever been so close to someone that you would do almost anything for them? And I mean ANYTHING. Love them, no matter their seriously lack of sterling character? You would do anything to protect that person, no matter what it cost you.”

Angel watched a flash of such desolation cross Xander's face. It was gone so fast that he almost thought he had imaged the look. And the vampire sat in that motionless manner giving truth to the factual evidence of his unlife. Only the slowly fading stain of brown in his eyes, the sharp, predatory intelligence that glittered brightly in his narrowed gaze revealed that he was 'alive'.

“No, can't say that I've ever experienced a feeling like that,” he stated softly. But his quiet response revealed a staggering truth that would come back to haunt him. “Seems to me feeling like that for someone has to be kind of painful,” he continued. And his eyes were focused with unwavering attention, not even blinking in case he missed a minute change in Xander's expression.

The young mortal smiled painfully, feeling the tears win the battle and make their slow march down his cheeks. “When someone loves you like that, you can do anything. Be anything. Because that person will always be there, loving you, shielding you, supporting you through the good times as well as the bad times. And if you're any kind of a caring human being, you can't help but give that love back. It just fills you up inside until it spills over and flows out, almost like this great big shield. It endlessly circles around you, and it's so strong and powerful that you have more than enough to give to others that come into your lives. Aven ven if one of you disappears… that force, that love will carry the remaining members until they are strong enough to stand on their own.” He inhaled shakily, wiping his face with both hands.

“I never told you how Willow and Jesse got my dad from beating me did I?” He said conversationally, though his question was abrupt in the switch of topics

Angel felt a horrible tightness in chest. “No, no you didn't.” His words were near inaudible but he really didn't think Xander was listening as the boy continued before he had finished speaking.

“They came up with this crazy ass scheme where my dad would wind up hittin' one of them instead of me. And Willow, crazy stupid fool that she is, volunteered herself because Jesse told me that she could pull that tragic, beaten down look off better than him. And they waited, watching me to see the first signs of when they needed to make their move. And sure enough, one day that drunken bastard was roaring about some dumb shit and was whoopin' my ass. All of a sudden, Willow ran into my room and stood over me and Pop was so fucked up that he couldn't stop the belt from descending. Hell, I don't think he coulda stopped even if he was sober, it happened so fast.” Xander said in a faraway tone.

“And the sound of the belt smacking her in the face just seemed to echo in the room. It felt like the whole fuckin' world froze at that horrible sound. Oh God! I can still see that shocked and surprised look on her face! But she wasn't afraid. And then the pain musta hit her a few second later. And she screamed! Dear god, to this day there's nothing more attention grabbing to me than a little girl's scream of pain.” Xander said huskily and he curled into a tighter ball as he gazed out over the balcony, lost in his dark reverie.

“Jesse ran in with his father's Polaroid camera and snapped a picture. And on his face was shock when he saw Willow, but there was this look of determination as well. Somehow, he managed to tell my father that if he ever laid a hand on me again that Willow was gonna tell HER parents that he had hit her. That he had been physically abusing her, threatening her with worse if she ever told anybody. And Jesse waved that picture in the air for proof. Clear evidence showing my father with the belt and Willow with a livid welt on her face. Then he took off running with my father chasing after him. I went to Willow and just held her until she stopped crying.”

Now Xander looked at Deadboy, a twisted smile of mockery on his face. “Two skinny little 10 year olds had successfully blackmailed my father. Because once Willow turned those big, sad eyes on you, that girl could convince you the sky was lime green.”

“That was mighty brave of them,” Angel stated quietly. But he knew whatever the purpose of this trip down memory lane, it wasn't over by a longshot.

Xander looked away from the probing intense stare. “A few months ago, Willow started using magic, like for almost everything. And it sorta was the leading cause of her and Tara breaking up. Which indirectly led to me and Anya breaking up considering that we were constantly fighting about Willow's use of magic, with me firmly on the side of Willow still being a good friend. A little witchy, but still she was one of the White Hats, ya know. But with a little problem. Maybe I just didn't want to see or even believe what was happening to my friend. Cuz, man, she was acting like a drug addict hankering after her next fix.”

He sighed. “So when an old high school classmate of ours introduced her to this creepy guy name Rag or Rack, it got even worse. And that's when I began getting worried about her and started believing that Anya was right. There was something messed up about Willow. Because from Rack, Willow would get a shot of pure magic that would make her higher than a kite. You could always tell when she was on the stuff, she was all Miss Superconfident. She acted like Endora, ya know, from Betwitched? Thinking magic was just about the answer to every little problem. Anyway, when her magic fix wore off, she would crash and then go running off to him for her next boost. You wanna know how she paid him? By letting him walk through her mind and her magic. I mean, we were all worried about her but Buffy kept telling us that Willow was okay. That everything was fine.” Xander shrugged uncomfortably at the incredulous look Deadboy gave him. “Look, I'm just telling you how it was a couple of months ago.”

He took a deep breath and looked away from Angel. “Then one night, Willow took Dawn with her to Rack's place to score some more magic and things got out of control. Her and Dawn wound up in a pretty nasty accident when something started chasing them. Buffy and Spike got there just in time to kick the baddy's ass. Although she was plenty pissed off, I guess, like me, Buffy finally saw that there was something really wrong with ow.”ow.”

“We confronted her ourselves and she broke down and cried. And she swore that she would stop using magic. She swore no more magic. That she was gonna quit cold turkey. Just like that!” He snapped his fingers for emphasis.

Angel’s brows were raised in surprise. “But if Willow was using magic or...or abusing magic like you say she was, it's impossible to stop cold turkey!” He said in protest. “I mean, you have to gradually wean yourself away from it...to lessen the craving. Everybody knows that!”

“Well, WE didn't know that there was a 12-step program for Magic Users Anonymous,” Xander sighed. He looked down and began plucking at his pants with nervous fingers. He was coming to the bad part of the story. The one that he never even told Spike.

“But why didn't Giles...” Angel started to say.

“Because we didn't think Willow had gotten that bad. I mean, she really hid it pretty well but I could tell that she was hurting...hurting real bad. But every time I mentioned that maybe Giles would be able to help, she would blow up at me until I backed off. Then Giles and Buffy started noticing how thin and wasted she was becoming. But she still denied that she needed help. And like me, Buffy backed away, because this was Willow, the second most intelligent person in our group that we're talking about. Besides, I think Buffy was still pissed at her for almost killing Dawn and maybe kinda wanted her to suffered. Why Giles backed off, I don't know. Maybe he thought she was strong enough to handle it...that she would ask for his help if and when she needed it.”

He blew out a gusty breath before continuing. “And you know, it did look kinda like she was getting a handle on things. Her face didn't have that 'kicked puppy' look anymore and the DT tremors were gone. But on the downside, Dawn was becoming listless and she didn't have that spark of liveliness and bouncy, sparkling glint in her eyes. But nobody seemed to see it but me that the weaker Dawn became, the stronger and healthier Willow got. So I confronted Willow about it, cause I knew in my bones that what I thought was happening wasn't happening. Because it was so fuckin' insane, ya know. And I just needed her to tell me how ridiculous I was being. Call me an idiot, ya know, for being so suspicious.”

He looked at Deadboy with an ugly, twisted smile. “And she did. Tell me that I was being ridius aus and crazy, that is. But I knew she was lying through her pearly white teeth and I called her on it. And when she saw I wasn't believing a word out of her mouth, she started hysterically yelling and screaming at me. Blaming me for not supporting her, for not being there for her, for being such a backstabbing friend. Raging at me for every imaginable sin that I had ever did to her, that's about when I, uhm, kinda bitch slapped her into the wall!” He shrugged uncomfortably.

“She started blubbering when I told her that I would rather be a treacherous, backstabbing friend than a fuckin' thief like her. That she was worse than a vampire because they stole people's blood to stay alive while she stole Dawn's magic cause she was addicted. Then she claimed that Dawn didn't really need or want her magic, which may or not have been true. But the thing is, she never asked! She said that the purity of Dawn's energy eased her cravings for magic. I told her that she needed more help than I could possibly give her. Help in the worst possible way. And she started begging me for help, but I couldn't help her. But Giles could. He was the only person I knew that was smart enough to figure out how to help her. So that's where I took her that night.”

Xander looked at Angel's blank face praying for understanding in those distant eyes. “I waited outside for her, cause she asked me to give her a little privacy. But I was a little confused as first Giles, then Buffy and finally Dawn seemed so...so...accepting of what Willow had done. I mean, she was stealing Dawn's energy to feed her addiction! I just kinda figured there would be a lot more fireworks than Willow standing up and saying, 'Hi, my name is Willow Rosenberg and I'm an addict', ya know? And when I asked Giles about it, he just gave me one of those Giles-looks, all stern and fatherly, telling me that we all make mistakes at times. That true, loyal friends worked to helped their fallen friends get back on their feet.”

“I mean, what kinda bullshit is that? What was I supposed to think?!” Xander said in protest at the look Deadboy was giving him. “This was Giles talking...telling me that everything was okay and under control. Buffy, and even Dawn, were sorta cool with Willow. Sure, it wasn't like it was before, cause like, uhm Willow was bad. But you could see that they were slowly getting there. God, I was such a fuckin' idiot!” he yelled, then pounded at his head with the heels of his hands.

Angel shook his head in disbelief. Hardly able to credit that Willow, of all people, was a magic junkie. Then he directed a look that was not without sympathy at the distraught young man. “Look Xander, I hate like hell to say this but Willow’s problem with magic is going to have to wait until we take down that Shadow...” and his voice trailed off when Xander slowly shook his head. Then another thought popped in his head and he frowned.

“Wait a minute! Since when did little Dawnie get her own supply of magical energy? I mean, I realize that she's probably outgrown the doll I gave her, but still I know damn well that she NEVER had any inkling of magic or the kind that Willow would need.”

Xander groaned softly as he dropped his hands. “You remember when Buffy died? Well the reason why she died was because this Hell goddess named Glory was searching for Dawn.”

Angel felt shock ripple through him at Xander's words. Little Dawnie...she used to be the bane of his existence when he was dating Buffy. Always popping up at the worse possible times and grinning like a fiend. Angel growled instinctively, his eyes a burning gold at the thought of someone or something hurting his impish, little nemesis.

Xander hesitated then forced himself to continue. “Well, your memories, ALL of our memories of Dawn are false. There were these monks that created this huge whopping spell to protect Dawn from Glory and they used Buffy's, I guess you would call it, essence to form her body. They kinda figured that Buffy would die before she'd let something happen to her baby sister. And they were right.”

Then with stunning clarity, Angel recalled what had had Wes so frustrated downstairs and his face slowly shifted to a hard dangerous mask. “Xander why was Glory after Dawn?” he asked with a soft, cold patience.

“Because Dawn is the Key to opening dimensional barriers between worlds,” came the whispered response.

“Sweet Mother of God...” Angel breathed in stunned horrific understanding. Then he jumped furiously to his feet in disgust and glared at the shrinking body of his Guardian . “Jesus Christ, Xander what the fuck were you thinking to let Willow continue raping Dawn like that?”

Xander flinched at the word before he got to his feet, his sorrow forgotten in his determination to defend his friend. “She didn't rape her, damn you!”

Angel ground his teeth as he eyed the hostile young man with a cold, wintry expression. “Did Dawn consent to Willow's taking her magic? Or did Willow simply take it without asking? Open your fuckin' eyes, you idiot! If you take something so personal without that person knowing, at best it's thievery, but at it's worst...” and he hesitated, remembering the bright-eyed red-headed girl with the wide cheerful smile, “...at worst it's called rape.” He stated quietly, his rage dying as he saw his words sink deep into Xander's widening, eyes.

“No...” the young man whispered to himself. He sat down abruptly, feeling like a puppet with the strings cut. “But...it's Willow...she's good...” he whimpered softly. He glanced up at Angel with wide, pleading eyes, begging the other to tell him that it was all just a joke. “She wouldn't...I mean, not to Dawnie...” he stuttered as shame of his involvement filled him like the inexorable tide.

She would. She did.

Angel sighed heavily as he sat back down. “Xander, she's so addicted to magic that she probably don't even know what she's doing right now. The need, the craving for magic is the only thing she knows. And just like any junkie, she's willing to do anything to get her fix.”

“Oh god, what have I done?!” Xander moaned. He buried his head in his shaking hands, feeling revulsion stirring in his stomach.

The older man heard the soft sounds of distress coming from the hidden face and rubbed Xander's back soothingly. “You didn't know,” he sighed. But someway, somehow they had to fix things.

“But ignorance is no excuse for stupidity,” came an unexpected response that had both men jumping to their feet in alarm. And through the arched opening of the living room, stood the other three Guardians as well as their Defenders. The six individuals regarded the vampire and his human with varying expressions of coolness, grimness and morbid humor.

“What do you mean by that?!” Angel said furiously, glaring at the others as he moved protectively half in front of Xander.

“I mean exactly what I said,” Kaori stated evenly. She pointed a sharp-nailed finger at Xander. “He has grown so used to others telling him what to think, what's best for him that apparently he's forgotten how to think for himself. You KNEW something was not right among your friends yet still you refused to acknowledge that fact. Choosing instead to wallow in the arms of your lover!”

Xander moved away from behind Deadboy to glare at his fellow Guardians. “How the hell do you figure that?! Giles, one of the smartest men I know, told me, TOLD me that everything was o-fuckin'-kay! And Buffy and Dawn both were acting like things were cool with them and Willow. So how the hell are you tryin' to tell me that I shoulda known?!” He screamed at them.

Alexis stepped forward and regarded the angry young man with cold, stern eyes. “If Buffy was willing to die to protect her sister, why would you believe she would tolerate her sister's rapist still in the house with them? Once your friend Buffy could have forgiven, but never a second time,” she stated with poisonous softness. And without a shred of remorse, she watched her words slam into the boy with the deadly accuracy of a heat-seeking missile. There was no pity or sympathy in any of their eyes for their younger brother when toy'soy's knees buckled.

Angel whirled around with a muttered oath and caught his Guardian in his arms before Xander hit the floor. And distantly the young man was aware of strong arms cradling him, but the majority of his attention was in trying to hold down his breakfast, lunch, the snacks as the impossible reality of what Alexis said bored a hole right down to his soul.

And as much as he wanted to deny it, tried to deny it with every fiber of his being, some part of him knew and recognized that instinctively he KNEW there was something horribly not right with his friends. The woman he would have gladly sold his soul to the devil had not only raped Dawn but somehow Willow had also suborned Giles and Buffy. And to compound matters even further, had somehow even clouded Dawn's mind to accept her presence.

He pushed frantically against the tight hold around his shoulders as his stomach finally won the battle. Surprised, Angel released the struggling young man. Then comprehension darkened his eyes when Xander scrambled to his feet and dashed into the bedroom. The vampire grimaced at the sound of the boy being noisily sick. He glared at the other Guardian with icy disdain before stalking into the bedroom. Briefly regarding the figure hunched over the wastebasket, Angel disappeared into the bathroom and returned with a wet, folded cloth that he used to wipe Xander's face. His movements were gentle, but his eyes were full of savage fury divided equally between all four of the Guardians.

“Fine! Now that we know what we're up against how do we take the bitch down?!” he asked harshly, pulling Xander almost roughly to his feet.

And now the other three Guardian wore faint sympathetic looks in their eyes when Xander moaned and slumped against Angel. Dark horrible knowledge marched relentlessly through his mind. Understag whg what HAD to be done despite his soul shrieking denial.

“FUCK NO! There's got to be another way!” he shouted. Shaking his head in denial, Xander backed away from them. Covering his ears against anything they had to say.

Angel frowned, his rage tempered by his confusion. “What the fuck are you saying 'No' for? We deal first with the Shadow Queen then we figure out a way to get Willow off...” and at the terrified look Xander gave him, the vampire’s eyes widened as he finally figured out what hhe bhe boy so spooked and rattled.

He narrowed his eyes at Xander, his eyes reflecting the hard and ruthlessness of Angelus as he made the shift into warrior mode. He gave the other three Guardians and Defenders a cold glance and nodded almost imperceptibly to them. Xander belonged to him and it was his responsibility to convince the boy of the necessity of wMUSTMUST be done.


After they had departed Angel eyed the su bac back Xander presented to him. A look of hard calculation was in his eyes as he adjusted his thinking, trying to figure out a way to make Xander see reason. They had no time for sentimental attachments and bewailing of fate.

When the bedroom door clicked shut, Xander whirled around with a shaky but defiant look on his face. A look that faltered under the unreadable gaze that Deadboy directed at him. But he rallied his nerve cause he knew Angel was gonna use some psycho mumbo-jumbo shit to try to convince him. And he needed to let Angel know from the get go that whatever the vampire was gonna try just wasn't gonna work. Not today not tomorrow...uh uh.

“Look, I already know what you're gonna say...” Xander began to say.

Angel raised an interested brow, his eyes alight with cold mockery as he deliberately interrupted the boy. “Do you? How remarkable, considering that I really have no idea what I planned on saying myself,” he said dryly.

Xander’s mouth moved soundlessly as he puzzled out what Angel was trying to do. Then he returned to his original thought. “Anyway, I'm saying NO, I ain't gonna do it,” Xander stated, his words emphasized by his harsh tone and the finger he pointed furiously at Angel.

The vampire's head tilted to the side as he studied the now wary youth. Then he spoke in a musing, admiring tone. “You know, I always thought it was improbable but you just proved an impossibility.”

Xander blinked at Angel, his brows contracting in confusion. “What?” he asked cautiously.

Angel shrugged carelessly, but his eyes were hard and sharp. “Unlike most adults, your balls were a lot bigger when you were in high school. If I hadn't seen them, I would believe that you didn't even have a pair.”

And at the gobbling sound that was coming from the boy's mouth, Angel let out a harsh bark of laughter. “You had guts back then and a backbone to do what was right no matter how much it cost you. And I used to feel a grudging admiration for you. Nobody had to force you to do anything, you just KNEW what was right.”

He snorted in freezing contempt at the furious, wounded look that appeared on Xander's face. “Basically what you're saying is that then and now, Buffy is still the only one with balls to kill the person she loved.”

The young man flushed and trembled in fury. Then from somewhere he heard a angry, strident voice yell, “Yeah, but I had to lie to get her to kill Angelus!” He 'eeked!' and gasped in horror before he clapped his hands over his mouth as he realized that voice was his. And closing his eyes, Xander waited for the punishing blows to land on his still very much human body.

But at the very lack of intense pain, Xander hesitantly opened one eye and squinted at Angel cautiously, then opened the other, since clearly the other eye was malfunctioning. Because that look of cool composure on Angel just wasn't normal. He uneasily eyed the vampire for a few more seconds, his thoughts spinning crazily.

A less intelligent person, Xander thought judiciously, would simply assume Deadboy was Mr. All Cool, Calm and Collected. And while he wasn't quite up there with Wesley, Willow and Giles in the brains department, he wasn't THAT stupid. But still, he was a fool. Cuz only a fool with a death wish would poke a sleeping panther with a very sharp stick.

“Uhm, you're really kinda blasé about the fact that I lied to Buffy, which unfortunately resulted in you, rather than Angelus making a spectacular trip to Hell-o,” he said nervously, then began backing away at the slow flame that kindled in Angel's eyes.

Angel raised a brow in mocking inquiry. “Did you think I wouldn't have guessed that you had something to do with Buffy sending me to Hell? pur purred with silky, deadly menace. “You've obviously failed to realize that as fellow ex-Scoobies, why, that me and dear Cordelia would oftentimes exchange fond and not so fond memories of our time in fair Sunnydale.” His smile widened as all color seemed to fade from Xander's face, leaving the boy chalky-white.

“And Xander, to let you in a little secret, I'm not quite a dumb as you seem to view me. My sweet, lovely boy, I've learned a long time ago how to put together 2 + 2. But that time, my 2 & 2 equaled one big, fat, lying little boy!” His word came out in a hiss of leftover, virulent fury. And he watched with cold satisfaction as Xander flinched back. This time the boy at least had the smarts to keep his mouth shut, he snorted to himself.

“Perhaps you were unaware also of the many tearful apologies that Buffy heaped on my head for 'sending me to hell'. And it was all because of a spiteful, jealous little bastun like you! And if it wasn't for Angelus nagging at me incessantly to rip your bloody head off, you would have been one dead little Scooby,” Angel finished with a smile of poisonous sweetness.

Xander eyed the smoothly prowling figure with alarmed eyes. “I...I...didn't do...it because I was jealous...or...or spiteful,” he dared to protest. Though the young man squirmed uneasily, wondering if there was some truth in Angel's words.

Angel stopped his predatory pacing and gave the boy a hard angry look. “Cac capaill,” he snapped. At Xander’s puzzled look, he repeated his words, this time in English. “Horseshit.”

Then he sighed, this wasn't getting them anywhere. What was done, was done. With iron control, he reined in his temper. “Xander, look whether you lied because you were scared Buffy would once again fail to put Angelus down or for some other unknown reason, if you are even the least bit honest with yourself, you know that the root cause was because of your unreasonable jealousy was my place in Buffy's affections. A place you felt at the time should have been yours.” And he regarded the boy levelly until Xander looked away in shame.

There was a harsh silence between the two men. A silence that grew as Angel broodingly contemplated the young mortal that he had been forced to take as mate. He wondered if Xander would even acknowledge the truth of his words. Oh, he had no doubt that the boy lied out of fear, out of a sincere desire to force Buffy to BE the Slayer called for this generation. But at the same time, he also knew that jealousy and even spite played a small part in Xander's decision.

Xander sat down abruptly on the couch as he finally looked, really looked at his actions all those years ago. Fuck yeah, he had been scared shitless and nearly witless of Angelus. Every shadow that he saw at night dancing on his bedroom walls had him in sweating in fear like a pig. And no matter what he said, nobody, not even Giles, could see that ANGELUS wasn't Angel.

They were like twins that shared a body, but a body that could unfortunately be occupied by one. And at the time, that ruthless psycho Angelus had set up housekeeping in the body with no intention of leaving.

But did he lie out of jealousy and spite? Xander dug deep, deeper still into his subconscious. Digging furiously at the darkened place where he buried all his shameful secrets and thoughts until he finally dragged a small, dark wiggling thought out into the light of day. With tortured shame he recognized that thought for what it was: that if Buffy killed Angelus, then Angel died too. Hooyah!

“You hate me, don't you? Ever since the day you met me, I've been messin' with you and fuckin' up your life,” Xander said in a low hoarse voice.

There was a quiet, deliberate silence as Angel mulled over his answer. Coming to a decision, he approached the shattered young man. Then crouching in front of Xander, he reached out and raised the boy's chin and looked into the despairing face to meet Xander's eyes with deadly ruthlessness that he took great care never to show the others.

“For what you did, I got over it. After all, Angelus made your lives a living hell. But if you allow what's going on in Sunnydale, if you *permit * the Shadow Queen to bring her nightmare world into ours, my hating you will be the least thing you'll need to worry about from me,” he said in a voice of iron. There was a cold promise in his eyes. He nodded coolly at the understanding filling the boy's eyes. Defender or no, he would make Xander's life hell on earth.

“And while you're thinking about your decision, think about this...what the Shadow Queen is doing to Willow, through Willow is something that Willow would NEVER allow, if she was in her right mind, to happen to the people that she loves. If she has to die, and I'm not saying that she does, mind you, but if she has to, then let it be at the hands of someone that loves her. That will always hold her in his heart as the beautiful, charming girl with the prettiest smile in the world.” Angel said with soft, passionate intensity as he gazed into the boy's tormented eyes. And he, himself would mourn the shy, sweet girl with the infectious grin. He rose to his feet and silently extended a hand.

Xander stared irresolute at the strong, broad hand with a mixture of desperation and loathing. If he took Angel's hand, he knew he was committing himself to doing whatever necessary to deal with the Shadow Queen. Even if it meant Willow's life.

“Do you believe blood washes away sin?” The young man asked in a small, hopelessly voice as he accepted Angel's help off the couch.

The vampire cocked a brow questioningly, then comprehension filled his eyes. And he sighed at the heavy burden Xander would carry for the rest of their lives. “Sometimes...”