Roses for Lucifer

Chapter 6

Buffy cleaned the blood from the blade of her sickle knife.

"Why?" Angelus managed to ask.

Buffy looked straight in his eyes. "Because she was the more experienced slayer. I could only defeat her when she did not suspect an attack. There was no better moment." She looked into his eyes, deliberately using Spike's words: "To kill a Slayer, you just need one good day."

Angelus, still dazed from the effect of the Holy Water, merely shook his head. "It's a shame. I could have made much better use of all this blood."

Buffy tried to sit up in the bed. "I'm leaving."

Angelus held her down. "No, you're not."

"What do you want, you've had your fun," Buffy said coldly. She felt disgust with herself. She had just killed another human being. Faith's body, warm, but slowly cooling down, lay next to her--eyes wide in the realization Buffy had stabbed her--still enfolded in the vampire's embrace. The room stank of her blood, and Buffy was convinced she would go mad if she had to stay in this bed for one more moment. Faith had been evil, true - but there had been times when she would have said the same thing about her own Faith, who had nevertheless been fighting the First at her side.

Angelus ran his hand down between her thighs. "Do you have any concept of what you've done?" he purred.

Involuntarily Buffy arched against him. "I'm perfectly aware of my situation, I assure you." At least I'm aware that I'm losing my mind. I'm in a demon's bed with another woman's corpse. "You should have killed me," she said, her heart pounding in her chest.

"I knew you would suffer more this way." Angelus kissed her violently.

Part of her could not believe she allowed it without even the slightest attempt to fight.

"Suffering, is that all you can think of?"

Then he looked at her from his fully vamped out face with fiery eyes. "Not suffering." He pinned her down on the sheets violently. "Desire."

Desire. Thousands of movies had been made, even more books had been written about it, crimes committed in its name, yet none she could think of would ever provide an explanation for these forces, primal, as old as mankind, lying beneath the surface of so-called civilisation. She felt passion flood her as she surrendered to the kiss, his kiss, like fire and ice, a kiss she had secretly longed for since Angel had walked away into the darkness the night before Sunnydale collapsed. And now the reality of it overwhelmed her, shutting away all thought of if and when. Timeless, turning her world upside down, dragging her into the shadows. Demand, promise, desire, leaving her reduced not to champion, not to slayer, but to a mere woman praying it would never stop and he would hold her forever like this, drowning her, saving her, breaking her world apart and creating it anew, a perfect moment. While he was driving her over the edge, the reality of it hit her. She hated him with all her heart.

*

"So what are we going to do with the body?" Angelus wondered, "Do you want me to have it transported into your quarters as a souvenir? Or would you prefer something useful, like a slayer skin handbag, or a rug made of her hair?"

Buffy shuddered at the thought. "No, thanks, I don't think it will be necessary. Just dispose of it for me, will you."

"Whatever you say." His gaze fell on the lifeless hand of the other slayer. "I almost forgot about something." He pulled something from Faith's finger, took Buffy's hand and asked her to close her eyes.

"I don't think so," Buffy refused.

The vampire chuckled. "I understand, I’ve had bad experiences with that, too. Doesn't matter, you might as well look."

Buffy felt cold silver against her finger. She stared at her hand, then looked at Angelus questioningly. "Do you know what that is?"

"Of course I do! It's a claddagh. I gave it to Faith, and now I give it to you. Remember you're taken."

Buffy's heartbeat almost stopped. It was not just a claddagh. It was HER claddagh. The claddagh Angel had put on her finger the night of her fateful seventeenth birthday, the claddagh she had left at the mansion after sending him to hell. She had been an inexperienced child back then, not knowing about magic items, not schooled enough in the old lore. But now, after she'd held the mighty Scythe in order to save the world and make every potential a Slayer, she felt the magic of the ring flowing through her. She trembled. Was it possible that this ring had brought Angel back from hell during her senior year? Was this ring able to bring someone back from the dead? "Angelus, where does the ring come from?" she asked, trying to sound casually. "Is it... magic?"

"Oh, you mean that old Ring of Regha legend."

"What is it about?" Buffy asked, trying to keep her voice from trembling.

Angelus told her in brief words and bitterly ironic comments about the legend, the power of forbidden love, and the set of items designed to save or destroy the world.

"Unfortunately it's meaningless," he closed. "Without the dagger and the amulet, we can chalk it off as just another piece of silver."

"What happened to the other items?"

He sighed. "Has anyone ever told you you're damn curious? About a decade ago, an ancient vampire, a white magician called Gonzo, bought his mortality with the items. I managed to get the ring from him, but he destroyed the other two items with an elemental spell. Can't think why. I killed him, but it wasn't much fun. Too easy. End of story."

Buffy shivered as she remembered the connection between her and Angel's story and the claddagh. The Ring of Regha might be the key to Angel's salvation, and she held it in her hand.

"Hey, are you still with me?" Angelus's voice interrupted her thoughts.

"Sure," Buffy replied quickly.

"You'd better leave now, we are expected to show up at the club tonight. It's the 18th night, so it is special."

The 18th night??? Buffy thought puzzled, but decided not to ask; now that she was out of the immediate danger of discovery. Perhaps she would find out what this was in another way. "What do you think I should wear?"

Angelus smirked. "I don't want you to catch a cold. Just wear what pleases you. To avoid nasty stains, however, I'd suggest something red."

*

Dawn stormed into Spike's quarters. "Have you heard?"

"Heard what, pet?" Spike asked, sounding bored.

"Faith is dead!"

The vampire looked amused. "And I'm the last emperor."

"Seriously! Angelus just announced it!"

Now Spike's interest in the affair seemed to awaken. "How?"

"I don't know precisely, but people say it was Buffy who killed her to take her place."

Spike shrugged. "So what?"

Dawn looked around to make sure they could not be overheard. Then she lowered her voice. "Without Faith at his side, Angelus's position is not as unquestionable as it was. Don't you have any dreams, Spike? Any aspirations?"

Spike laughed. "If it's true what you're saying, and Buffy killed Faith, then I don't want to be the one to get in her way. I don't want to end my existence in a hoover."??

"I know her. Buffy is not interested in politics. She must have had other reasons for what she did. I'm not asking you to start a rebellion. Just be ready when it starts."

"Well, could you change first and plan a revolt later? Tonight's the 18th night, remember?"

"How could I ever forget! I've been wondering what to wear for months."

*

Buffy's mind was filled with images of the ring and the prophecy when she sought Spike in his quarters. The vampire looked up from the books he was studying. "Good work, Buffy," he remarked admiringly, "To be honest, I thought Faith would paint her walls the colour of your brain, but I was wrong, obviously. Come on, give me all the details! Rumor has it you stabbed her during a threesome with Faith and Angelus?" As Buffy cast him a mortifying look, he shrugged. "Okay, no details. I don't need them. I could smell him on you before you entered my wing of the building."

Buffy crossed her arms before her chest and smirked. "Jealous?"

He glared at her.

She shrugged. "Then you can smell Faith's blood on me as well, so you know what happened anyway."

"Yeah. You killed another slayer. What's more, you killed another human being. Well done," he said enigmatically.

"I can live without your praise," Buffy replied coldly, " How about my spell?"

"I'm working on it."

"What do you mean, you're WORKING on it? I've done my share of our contract. Now it's time you did yours."

"Hey, relax, take it slowly! No need for haste."

"That's none of your business. You'd better hurry. Remember Faith? Want me to do the same to you?"

Spike grinned. "Depends on who the third party is. Personally, I would prefer Harm to Angelus, or perhaps Anya."

Buffy lifted her chin defiantly. "You have 24 hours to get me what I want."

"Aye, Sir, Colonel, Sir," he said ironically.

"By the way – do you happen to know what the 18th night means?"

Spike smiled. "The night of nights. 18, three times six. Devil's number. Like the Senior Prom in high school. Just that the roses are for Lucifer. You got a date yet? Oh, I'm sure Angelus asked you, didn't he? I'm going with Cordelia, can you imagine that? Just because Andrew asked Dawn first! However, just be there, it'll be fun!"

Buffy looked skeptical. "I'll see you there. And don't forget: I want my spell. A passage to my dimension which carries two."

He raised a brow. "So you're serious. You're taking him with you. Ain't love grand?"

Buffy shook her head, trying not to meet his eyes. "What do you know of love?"

"Maybe you're right," Spike said calmly and rose from the bed. "Maybe I'm not getting the concept." He walked behind her and ran his fingers through her hair. "Or maybe it's you..." he said softly, then without warning seized her hand and examined the ring."Oh, second hand jewelry, His Majesty's had his generous day!"

Buffy freed her hand from his grip. "I didn't ask you for advice!"

"Maybe that's exactly your problem!" Spike retorted.

Buffy walked to the door. "I don't have to listen to that. Leave me alone, Spike!" She slammed the door behind her and ran down the dark corridor.

Spike burst from his apartment and shouted after her: "It may look like a miracle to have his body, like a lost love restored, but it is an illusion! He will tire of you, and what about your plan then?"

She turned around and stared at him. His blue eyes were baleful, but she also saw the hurt in them, the same torment they had in them the night Spike saw her kissing Angel before the final battle.

"He gave you the ring, true. But what did he say when he gave it to you? Did he speak of love? I doubt it. If he was capable of feeling, he would have mourned Faith, not taken you in her place. You say you can handle him. Now. But think twice about if you want him in your life. Whatever you do - be aware he will never love you back. And make sure you can live with it."

Buffy did not reply. She ran off into the darkness. She had come this way because she was not too keen on being seen as she sneaked into the vampire's dwelling.

Nevertheless, she was aware someone was watching her. She whirled around, a stake in her hand.

"Sh, it's me, Drusilla!" The vampire stepped out of the shadows.

"I almost staked you!" Buffy lowered her voice. "Why have you come here?"

"I'm risking my life talking to you, so please hear me out," Dru replied, "And, please, put your stake down. Sunday has informed me of what you did for her. And our spies have reported how you freed us of the other Slayer. The Master is proud of you, and we are all grateful, we owe you a lot. We want to know how you are going to proceed. And if you need any help."

"No, thank you," Buffy said, "I work alone."

"You are not on your own, Buffy. We can never repay what you are doing for our cause. But we can help you."

Buffy hesitated. Then she decided to be honest with the vampire. "Drusilla, I'm not doing this for you. I had a reason for freeing Sunday. And I had an even better one for what happened to Faith."

"I know," Drusilla said gently, "Ethan was wondering why you could not remember us even as time wore on. He discovered huge interdimensional energies. We know who you are. You come from another world. I can keep your secret, Buffy. I would like to hear all about it. I hope it is a better place than this one."

"Much better," Buffy replied thoughtfully, not intending to tell Drusilla about her own fate in Buffy's reality, "It is a place where I don't have to kill human beings. A place where I don't have to betray to survive."

Drusilla put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "That is where we can aid you. Ethan has researched an elemental spell. After you have helped us to end the tyranny and make our world a better place, he can send you back. He is quite confident it might work."

"So you're proposing a deal – kill our enemies, we'll get you home?" Buffy shook her head. "I'm not going to kill another person if I don't have to."

"Buffy, you're the Slayer! We need you for the good fight."

"I'm not involved in your cause, all I want is to get home."

Drusilla's face went even more pale with disappointment. "So you're just planning to leave us? You won't slay Angelus?"

"Don't worry," Buffy murmured, "I will handle this my way." She looked at the claddagh. Angel's ring. She had spent so many years locking away her feelings, determined never to let anyone get to her. It all came down to Angel. They had been denied everything for fear of his dark side. And now, Angelus was the norm, and Angel the deviation.

Drusilla saw the ring as well. Her eyes went wide. "You're taking him with you?"

"I'm not leaving him behind. Don't think you could stop me."

"I won't try. But I don't understand you! You're telling me you miss your home. Why do you prefer being with a killer than with the Angel of your dimension? I imagine he must be a saint."

"Yeah," Buffy replied scornfully.

"He's not with you in your world," Drusilla realized. "I'm sorry. Perhaps I have no right to question your decisions. But do think about it twice, Buffy. I once had the choice you have now. When Spike was won over to the other side, I could have joined him. But it would have meant perverting our relationship. Not a single day passes without my thinking of him, I remember how it was to love, and I would give my life to have him back, if only for one moment. But what darkness can give you is not love. Being alone is the better choice."

"You have no idea," Buffy replied, "My decision's made. This place isn't safe. Run."

Drusilla rushed away and vanished into the shadows.

*

"Seth is the god of disorder. In the Egyptian dualistic concept of the cosmos, Seth is placed in juxtaposition with Horus, the god who ruled the land with order and stability," David cited from one of his books. "Seth never had any children, as emphasis of his association with the barren desert and of his status as the antithesis of the fertile good. He was responsible for killing his brother, Osiris. Seth was never a completely evil figure though. He protected the sun barge of Re, his benefactor during the
struggles with Horus, during its nightly journey through the underworld and he fights the snake-like monster Apep. By the Twenty-sixth Dynasty, Seth was the embodiment of evil. He was depicted with fiery eyes and red hair. The ancient Egyptians believed red represented evil."

Willow smiled. "Well, you can't please everybody, can you?"

"The Curse of Seth was, according to the legends, a ritual attempted by a group of Seth's worshippers. An early form of occultism, if you will. It was dedicated to plunge the world into chaos by destroying the balance of good and evil. It never succeeded, though. The ritual is very complicated, it involves the four elements of earth, fire, air and water. And, as I already said, it must reach into the ethereal sphere, that is where the items come in."

"Everything has been prepared for the rites. Now we just need the items." Buffy said.

"They are in a safe place. It will take me a few hours to get them here." Angel replied.

"I see. Let us not lose time."

*

Wesley stared at the computer screen. He hated relying on the internet, but he understood it was the fastest way.

"What do we have?" he asked Fred.

"Well, no known relatives, seems he has always been a bachelor dedicated to science. David has a degree in Classical Languages, majoring in Latin. He graduated from Oxford University with honors. Oh, there must be a mistake in his records."

"Why?"

"Well, he doesn't look like he was born in 1958. Probably they meant 78."

"Or..." Wesley scarcely dared to pronounce his suspicion. "Or he is not who he claims to be. Think about it. Why should we destroy the items? For all we know, Angel might even become Shan-shu through them. If we destroy the items, Angel will remain a vampire, and that was not the original plan."

"But why should anyone want to destroy them? They are so powerful they should be valuable for everyone."

"True. But it is again David and Buffy who will perform the rites. Who knows whether the supposed destruction really means destroying the items? They might just want to transport them to a location only known to them and use them for their own purposes. Maybe it's them who want to perform the Curse of Seth."

"You don't trust Buffy?" Fred stared at Wesley. "You think they know where the ring is, and Buffy doesn't tell Angel? I don't think she is that mean! That would really be evil. It can't be like that. I mean... she's a Slayer!"

"Like Faith?" Wesley suggested. "No, Fred, I can't run the risk. Before I let Angel hand the items over to them, I have to be sure we can trust them." He broke off as he heard steps approaching.

Fred quickly closed her window.

"Any luck with your research?" David asked cheerfully.

"Indeed," Wesley replied. "By the way, while we are waiting for Angel to bring the items, I would like your expert opinion on an ancient Latin translation I'm working on, I'm not really getting on well."

"Well, I'd have to brush up my Latin a little, haven't used it a lot lately. I hope I can be of help. We can have a look at it later, after the ritual, when we have more time. Tomorrow is another day." He did not seem embarrassed, but his answer did not exactly quench Wesley's doubts.

"All right," Wesley replied, "That reminds me of the famous quote when Cicero spoke to the emperor Domitian: Meum est propositum in taberna mori! One simple sentence, expressing so much philosophy. Don't you agree?"

"Oh yes, that's one of my favorites! Reaches deep into the heart and sets your mind thinking for hours. But would you excuse me now, I have to look something up." David almost fled from the office.

"I knew it!" Wesley exclaimed.

"What did you say to him?" Faith wanted to know.

"I am destined to die in a tavern. It's not even classical Latin, but medieval, a drinking song by an unknown author. And Cicero could only have spoken to Domitian if he had been a vampire, otherwise he would have been dead for a very long time when Domitian was around!"

Fred shrugged. "Well, you never know."

"This man definitely has not been awarded a degree in Latin!"

"I wouldn't bet on it, I mean, nowadays everyone gets degrees, I have a highschool diploma, and ask me anything about the history of the American Civil War now!"

"True, but as a Watcher, he needs Latin every day! No, I don't trust him, and I will advise Angel not to do so either. Go on with your research. See if you can find a photograph of David in the records."

*

Buffy was walking down the corridor leading to her quarters. She stopped for a moment when she heard voices. Children? She was not aware there were children in the headquarters as well. Has anyone ever told you you're damn curious? She smiled inwardly as she proceeded to get nearer to the voices.

She saw Sam talking to two excited kids, clearly twins, who bore a striking resemblance both to her and Riley.

Now I'm really in hell, Buffy thought.

"Mommy, Mommy, can we play with Aunt Harmony's cats?"

"Of course you can, Riley Junior, but be more careful than last time. We don't want Mommy to pay that much money again for a new one, do we."

"And can we use your iron maiden, mommy?"

"Sure, Sam Junior, but don't put your brother in it this time."

The little girl was visibly disappointed. "Not even for five minutes?"

"No," Sam insisted, "I told you, no more violence against your brother! Daddy doesn't like it!"

"But," the girl replied stubbornly, "Uncle Spike promised me I can borrow his chainsaw."

Sam decided to have a word with the vampire some time soon. She would bring her whip along, just in case.

"Please, Mommy," Sam Junior begged.

"If you won't be a good girl now, I will forbid your babysitter to let you watch TV tonight when Daddy and I are at the club."

"No, please!" Riley Junior protested. "The Disney Channel's got Friday the 13th!"

"Who's coming to babysit?" Sam Junior asked curiously.

"We haven't decided yet. I wanted to ask Buffy, but... the circumstances don't allow me to do that any more, she'll be busy. Maybe Grandma will be there. Now go, play. Mommy hasn't said her prayers today."

"Okay, okay," Sam Junior sighed and strolled away with her brother.

Lovely little monsters, Buffy thought. But who would have expected Sam to say a prayer in this world?

"Are you ready?" Riley asked.

"Just a moment, love, you're too early! I'm not properly dressed for performing a religious service." Sam threw her robe into the corner and put on a deeply cut tank top and leather hot pants. "Have you got everything?"

Riley looked into his bag. "Let's see... hand axe, chains, mace, yes, think so! Let's go!"

"You are so unorganized, as usual! How are we supposed to get to the 18th night at the club in time if you keep forgetting things! What do you want to distribute among the new members we recruit? The watch tower?"

"Sorry, honey, how could I forget?" He grabbed a pile of porn magazines and squeezed them into the bag.

"Perfect," Sam agreed, "Let's complete our mission!"

*

Buffy's question on what to wear for the 18th night at the club had been dealt with when she returned to her quarters. She found a long dress of burgundy-dyed silk laid out on her bed as she entered the room. It shone when light fell upon it and rustled with every move. She wondered how long Angelus might have planned on this, for it was clear that the dress had been especially tailored for this one occasion.

Regarding her image in the mirror, she decided something was missing, and fastened a necklace with a granate-spotted cross about her neck. Though she doubted Angelus would appreciate her taste, the color matched the dress perfectly.

As she was walking towards his quarters, making her way through the dimly-lit corridors, a strange feeling seized her. A shiver went through her body, her heart rate seemed to increase, and she felt more and more nauseous as she approached. Buffy realized she was experiencing the effects of the blood loss. One would expect a Slayer to take this in stride, but it had all been too much in the past few days. Alertness had been her primary concern in this world, she had been fighting the most challenging
adversaries, the events culminating in the last confrontation with Faith. Her relationship to Angelus was not exactly helpful in getting rest either. No wonder her senses could take no more, she would need a break when the night was over.

The hinges only creaked mildly when she opened the doors, but it rang in her ears. The over-acuteness of her senses continued as the vampire's eyes locked on hers. As she had expected, the color of his clothes matched her dress.

He had taken a shower, probably to diminish the pain from the Holy Water. Whatever the scent was that surrounded him now, it was highly intoxicating.

He did not say a word. In silence, he took Buffy's hand to lead her to the club.

The moment their hands touched, she felt like struck by lightning. In a moment, she felt her clothes and her hair soaked with rain, in the next one with the blood of the other Slayer, the vision hitting her so hard she struggled to remain on her feet. "What's happening?" she asked, entirely confused.

Then she almost physically felt his cold skin against hers, burning with the heat of the Holy Water between them. The heat rushed into her body, her cheeks were beginning to glow, and she knew she was in a fever.

"You're feeling the blood bond," Angelus explained. "Remember you've always sensed my presence from the first time I drew your blood? The closer we get, the stronger it will be. Maybe you'd better sit down."

As Buffy was overwhelmed by more images, she complied with the suggestion. Her legs were shaking, her thoughts drifted in directions she could no longer control, the nausea made her feel so dizzy she would have preferred sleeping in her quarters. "Is there a cure?" she asked, weary and disoriented.

Angelus smiled. "Not unless you want to kill me."

She could not even think of a sarcastic reply now. The symptoms increased so steadily she felt her lungs tighten and was scarcely able to breathe. The tightness of the dress contributed to her feeling she might lose conscience if she did not get more oxygen soon. She closed her eyes, sweat breaking from her skin.

"Concentrate on my voice," Angelus told her, slowly loosening the dress, of which she was incapable, for her hands were shaking so much she could not even open a single button. "Go back in your mind to the images you see, it will help you if you can focus on them. You have to live through it all again, or you will never get used to the symptoms. Go back to the moment you felt Faith's blood on your skin. Do you see Faith before you?"

"Yes."

"Good. Go back even further. Where are you?"

"On a stage... God knows, I hate you for that!"

"You're getting better..." His hands pressed the soft tissue of the dress against her shoulders firmly. "Go further."

Buffy felt a new fit seize her. She felt close to madness. "I'm in her quarters," she screamed. "You're there." The pictures were more than she could take, the colors piercing her eyes even though they were closed, the fever increasing to a dangerous level.

"It hurts, I know,"Angelus whispered soothingly, "But you can make the pain stop. You have to focus. Why are you there?"

"I want to kill Faith."

He frowned. Even at this early stage?

"But she isn't there... I'm relieved it's just you..." Her voice trailed off.

"No," he commanded, "Stay with me! So you wanted to kill her because of me."

Buffy giggled, it was the giggle of a drugged person, on the verge of insanity. "The whole world doesn’t revolve around you."

He realized she was once again almost fainting, so he kissed her gently to bring her back to her senses and tightened his grip around her shoulders, bruising her skin even through the dress.

"What do you mean? Go further back. Where are you?"

"I can't tell you," Buffy refused. She felt feverish, but shivered from the cold.

Angelus closed his arms around her, wrapping her in the jacket that went with the dress. "Tell me. You'll feel better."

"I can't... You'll hate me." The world around her was veiled into a deep darkness as Buffy felt her mind drifting away. It drifted to the moment she felt the Ring of Regha put on her finger, and the lingering with the memory eased her pain. She felt Angelus now physically caressing her hand. "Where are you?"

"In the dungeons," Buffy whispered, "Please, let me go, I have to sleep."

"The bond will kill you if you can't face it! Why are you in the dungeons?"

"This is where it started... I set her free."

"Her... do you mean Sunday?" The vampire's mind was working. How? There is no way to go between my dungeons and Hope undetected by either side.

"The passage... I sent her through the sewers... to that club... Hope..."

So there is a passage...

"It's okay," he whispered soothingly and laid her out on the bed.

Buffy was squirming under his touch, she was delirious. "It's so hot," she whispered.

"I know," Angelus told her, "It'll be okay." He could tell she was somewhere else, moaning and sighing in her fever.

"Hey, guys..." Buffy whispered, throwing herself from side to side, "...too clever for this kind of discussion.... more.... merrier."

Angelus hesitated. Her words were familiar. Buffy had spoken to him and Spike like that in the cemetary. He knew Buffy needed rest, but he could not resist. "Where are you, lover?" he asked softly.

"Cem... cemetary," Buffy murmured. "So cold... rain..."

"Who else is there, Buffy?"

Buffy ran her hands over her body, her eyes closed, her lips slightly parted. The image alone sent Angelus's cold blood boiling.

Buffy giggled. "Angelus... Spike... yeah, keep doing that..."

Angelus kissed her forehead. It felt hot. Just one more question, then he'd leave her alone. But there was still one thing he had to ask her. "Give me a name, Buffy... that night in the cemetary... who pleased you most?"

"I'm so tired," she whispered.

"Just the name, Buffy..."

"I can't focus..."

"Try," he said with just a hint of fury.

"Don't tell him," Buffy pleaded.

"I'll keep this between you and me, lover, promise," he told her.

"Don't tell him!" Buffy begged, "Swear it!"

"I swear," Angelus said impatiently.

She was breathing heavily, her eyelids fluttered. "He's great... almost died... best fuck in my life..."

"Who?" Angelus whispered. "Just give me the name."

Buffy was getting more sleepy with the minute, hardly able to speak coherently. "An... An..."

He smiled a satisfied smile. He had heard enough. "It's okay. Take a break, I'll get you something less pressing to wear."

He left the bedroom and closed the living room door behind him.

Buffy relaxed a little and sighed. "And don't tell Spike I said that about him." Then she drifted off to sleep.

*

Tara jumped from the sofa, a questioning look on her face.

"You should have become a tailor," Angelus remarked with a smirk, "The magic dress worked out fine."

Tara smiled. "She will remember nothing but a very profound sleep. Did she tell you what you wanted to know?"

"She led me straight to my enemies. Have the dungeons searched. There must be a secret passage in them which leads to Hope. If we attack through the passage, they will not even know what hit them. Thank you, Tara. You'd better get dressed now, the 18th night is ahead." His eyes flashed darkly. "Oh, and remind me to kill Spike."

TBC...