ethrosdemon & Lar ||| Buffy & Angel

Reconfiguration I
by Lar and ethrosdemon

EMAIL: naturallycalm@yahoo.com =and= HERE
Distribution: List archives, people who ask.
Disclaimer: Joss made it up, too bad he is an incompetent ninny. Mutant Enemy and others own the rights. No suing please.
Rating: R
Spoilers: Epiphany, The Body
Notes: This is the first part in what may be a zillion fics in answer to a challenge on YGTS? Part of the requirements are met here, some are still to come. The actual challenge will be posted at the end of the last part. For those of you who think we have been sucked into the black-hole which is Lindsey, he is nowhere to be found in this fic.
Dedication: To Aimee who issued the challenge, we are getting to the rest, have no fear.

==========

"Bill. Bill. Bill. And oh, look - change of pace, a late notice." Cordelia speaks loud enough to impress upon her companions that she is *not* talking to herself while Gunn and Angel do their usual grunt and ignore routine. She taps the stack of bills into a neat pile and pushes them to the side of the desk. Avoidance for the moment until she has some coffee and gathers the energy to harangue Angel into making the money appear ("Yes, Angel, I do believe there is a such thing as a money tree and you can shoot it out your ass"). Heads around the desk, watching the dim light catch the edge of Gunn's axe where he's polishing the blade humming to himself.

Flash, and she's on the floor, the pain of her body hitting the marble overwhelmed by the agony of the vision. A bad one, shades of black and red, washed in blood. All she sees are wounds gouged in flesh and rivers of blood with the accompanying soundtrack of the sounds of screaming. She thinks she's hearing herself, shouting out in the throes of the invasion. Shutter-quick image of a face, and she knows it's her screaming this time, because she recognizes the face despite the mask of bewilderment and pain, features long familiar and dear to her, even if she won't admit it today.

It's gone as quickly as it came, and all she sees are the closely crouching faces of Angel and Gunn, their brows wrinkled in concern as they help her up. Angel doesn't say anything as they get her seated on the couch, and his expression is severe, but Gunn has to ask.

"Who the hell is Xander?"

= = = = =

*ring ring*

*ring ring*

*ring ring*

"I don't understand where they all are!" Cordelia slams the phone down in frustration, winces as the noise reverberates in her throbbing head, makes her want to vomit again. "Not just Xander, but everyone. Maybe it already happened, maybe it's one of those ha-ha-look-what-you-missed-out-on visions." She takes a deep, shuddering breath, rubs her palms across eyes that are bare of makeup from her tears. "I hate this."

"We can leave as soon as Wesley gets back," Angel says, not looking up from his intense contemplation of the toes of his boots. She can't find fault with his seeming nonchalance; the weapons bag behind him on the couch bulges with everything he could fit into it, and Gunn has the rest in his own bag. "It's not helping anything for you to get yourself more upset. Just keep calling them every few minutes and try to get a grip."

The slam of the lobby door startles them all, and Wesley rushes in breathlessly. Eyes wide and clothes disheveled, he stumble-trips over the steps and gasps out, "Followed me, right behind," as Angel hauls him to his feet. Seconds later, there are four additions to the group in the form of Khurdnathi Assassins, who burst through the front doors, shattering glass and spraying wood shards in a ragged arc.

"Stealth ain't one of their strong points," Gunn says dryly as he hefts the axe over one shoulder and grasps a studded mace in the other hand.

"Eww, neither is bathing, judging by the smell!" Cordelia's gagging against the back of her hand. Clasped in the other one is the handle of a long curved blade. She looks at the hulking form of the demons, looks down to the knife, and shouts to Angel before tossing it his way.

With a bellow, the Khurdnathis swarm down the steps.

=====

Xander looks up at the hotel, hands in his pants pockets. He found it easily enough, big old falling down historical landmark, and could Angel change his tune with the old building thing already? Observes there's no front doors on the thing and wonders idly how long that's been going on, and if anyone has gotten the bejesus scared out of him by trying to come in and meeting up with Angel in full-on toothy mode. Didn't wanna be the one. But when it came down to the decision, he realized he could use a day away. Some time to himself on the drive down and back. Time for his own tears when he doesn't have to comfort anyone else or try to be a man. It could've been a phone call, but he thinks coming in person might bring Angel up for visitation at the funeral home.

His thoughts are interrupted by a clear, high scream that he knows far too well. Xander breaks from his reverie and runs towards the gaping hole that is now the entrance to the Hyperion. So much movement going on all at once, but his eyes seek Cordelia instinctively, take in the large demon with the larger weapon that's bearing down on her, and he just moves. Vaguely realizes that Angel and Wesley are there, and someone else that he doesn't know at all, but all he can think is to get Cordelia out of the way. Running tackle, and she goes down under him, and everything goes ... strange.

He identifies a burning sensation in his shoulder and neck, rush of heat and wetness, and he feels numb all over. Full body Novocain shot. Blinks stupidly at Cordelia for a second, and her mouth is open, but he can't hear her at all.

"Cordie?" So confused and he thinks //must have hit my head// before Cordelia and everything else fades to black.

=====

Angel hears the pitch of Cordelia's shriek rise an octave, and it gives him the impetus to reach the demon as it raises its weapon over her and prepares to strike another blow. Scent of blood //human, cordie, oh god// goes right through Angel's system, hits him like a dose of adrenaline, and he grasps the remaining Khurdnathi on either side of its head, twists violently, drops it as soon as the crack of its spine is heard.

Looks down in panic, knows he's going to see Cordelia lying there in a pool of her own blood, hopes he can get her patched up enough for Gunn and Wes to get her to the hospital //maybe it's just a flesh wound, maybe, but i can smell the blood//

Sees instead her with her hands clamped to Xander's neck, eyes wide and voice stuttering up and down the scale of fear, panic, desperation. The blood pouring out, and he sees with a thrill of absolute horror that there's a clear arterial spray mark on the floor , across Cordelia's face, over to the wall.

"Angel, oh God, please, please, help me, stop the bleeding, I can't make it stop! Someone make it stop, please, Xander, wake up, help me!" Frantic keening, and Cordelia's hand keeps slipping in the blood on his neck.

Angel drops to his knees, puts his hand over hers, and he can hear Xander's heartbeat as it slows, stutters, stops, beats again. "Xander, no, damn it!" Full game face from all of the blood, and the swell of utter horror won't listen to him as he tells it to go away, let him think, let him fix it.

Gunn is there standing over the trio on the floor, and he swears under his breath, "Fuck, man, the only thing gonna save that boy's goin' over to the no-sunshine crowd."

"Do it, Angel! Please, God, you have to do it!" Cordelia claws at him wildly, still pinned under the body //not the body, Xander, still Xander// and grabs at his hair to pull his face down. "Please, Angel, you can't let him die, you can't!" Sobbing now, and she's pressing his face into Xander's neck. The blood coating him, screaming at him in cadence to Cordelia's mindless insistence.

Heartbeat stuttering out again, Cordelia just wails his name, prayer and supplication, and Angel is lost. Opens his mouth and drinks in the blood, pulls Cordelia's hand away and gulps as a final gush of warmth floods his mouth. Teeth in the wound, not necessary but still, in some way it is absolutely vital that he bite and suck and not merely lap up what the Khurdnathi's blade has freed for him. Tastes Xander in every swallow, *feels* him, learns him intimately in a way that is not possible except by the feeding.

Tears himself away before its too much, too far, which isn't more than a mouthful or two, and bites his own wrist, fangs ripping out a chunk of his flesh in his savage haste. Rolls Xander over into his lap and presses the wound to his mouth. Nothing, nothing at all, the blood is flowing into Xander's mouth, but he's not swallowing. It trickles out the side, moves over the paths of his own blood that already coat his face.

Roar of frustration, grinding his wrist down harder, and Angel slaps Xander's cheek with his other hand. "Drink, drink, Xander, do it," chanting as he begins to think it's too late, they were too late, and now he's holding a body for real this time.

The slightest movement beneath the bleeding gash, and Xander's throat works as he swallows. Parts his lips and beings to drink weakly.

=====

Xander wakes suddenly. Sucks lungful after lungful of air into his lungs, and instead of the steadying sensation he's going for, it just feels wrong, off. A crash of otherness hits him, and he lays still again with his eyes clamped shut and tries to find his bearings. He feels like he's ascending through fathoms and fathoms of water, no ground to be found, and he can't tell which way is up. Beneath him he can feel his body indenting a mattress, cold metal against his wrists and ankles, but none of those sensations are the ones in the fore of his mind. Blood, the smell of it soaking into every pore of his being. His own, that he knows on instinct. Under it though, he can scent the blood of another, the heartbeat carrying it through wide arteries, tiny capillaries humming in his ears. Hunger smothers him, tightening his body into one-strung out NEED to eat. And the smell from across the room is familiar in an odd way, he can name it instantly, Cordelia. Her breathing ragged, the odor of what he assumes is fear and desperation sweet to him, and he's starting to wig himself out. Can't place why the hunger and the blood are connected, unless this is another nightmare, a revisitation of so many before. The only reason he can come to why his own blood isn't thrumming in his ears, why he can't feel the pulse in his wounds which he can remember receiving. Stabs wound, or claws sharp as blades. Before he could tell them. Before he had time for anything else but gut reaction. Opens his eyes. Cordelia sitting in a wooden chair across the room staring at her fingernails, tears tracking down her face through well defined salt trails.

"Cordelia?" His voice sounds odd to his ears, like he hasn't used it in a long time, rusty and out of shape somehow.

"Oh god, Xander! I'm so sorry." Fresh burst of tears, he can see her shaking and wonders vaguely why she hasn't gotten up to come over to him.

"For what?" Confusion is plain in his voice, and he tries to sit up. Can't, hindered by the shackles and the burning dizziness inside his head and his belly.

"We called them, just hang on, we're gonna make this ok. Don't hate me, please, just..." Begging look in her eyes, and her scent is so strong, there's so many layers to it that Xander thinks he could take all night to name every one of them.

"Why am I chained up?" Rattles his wrists to illustrate the point.

Roll of her eyes and there's the old Cordelia he knows so well. "Well, duh, so you won't kill us all."

"Excuse me if I'm not following here, but I'm still confused by the chained up part." Confused and hungry, the burning spreading to the rest of his body, climbing over nerve endings, and he's starting to feel the desire to growl. He considers that reaction for a moment; decides that yes he does want to growl, and that he's not entirely sure why it's such a completely *right* thing.

"We had to, I, we, couldn't think of anything else to do, and it took us forever to get a hold of Willow." She's actually wringing her hands; he's heard the term but never saw it happen before.

"What? What does Wills..." Stops himself, grimaces as his body begins to complain. Makes a move to rub his stomach where it aches and gets brought up short. "Back to the chains, or we could move on to the part where I am starving to death."

"Thus the chains."

"Am I on a crash diet I didn't know about?" It begins to occur to him that he might have hit his head a lot harder than he actually remembers. //how long was i out?//

"Yeah, the non-human diet plan." She leans back in her seat when she says it, increasing the already ridiculously large amount of space between them.

A tingle of irritation begins to spread, and Xander finds the urge to growl again disconcertingly urgent. "Um, ok, could you unchain me so I can eat? And also, what's with the blood, and the not being in a hospital?"

Panicked look as soon as he says the word 'eat', and she's out of the chair and behind it in a flash. "Angel!" Eyes huge and vaguely glassy as she stares at him and screeches towards the open door.

"I'm right here, Cordelia." That voice resonates through Xander and his eyes roll back and forth to locate the owner.

Angel's form fills the doorway from the sitting room to the bedroom of his suite. Rapid rising. He knew it would be fast, but six hours is something he hasn't seen for a longer than he can remember. Glass of blood in his hand for his own feeding, he takes in Xander's strung-out appearance. Still breathing, eyes stunned to no blinking from what he must feel at being this close to his maker, Angel can remember the feeling after all this time. He walks to the side of the bed and looks down at the creature no longer a boy, that past and the new life taken up residence. Human features receding at the proximity of the glass of blood in his sire's hand, bewildered expression still evident through the ridges and extended canines.

"Oh my god! Oh my god!" Cordelia voice shrill again, but Xander's attention never wavers from Angel and the blood.

"Drink this." Angel cups the back of Xander's head to bring his face up to the glass in his hand. Xander brings his mouth up to the rim, and Angel looks toward Cordelia to see her riveted on the scene, whips his head back when he feels teeth puncturing his wrist, lips and tongue coaxing the blood from his vein.

"Angel!" Wesley in the doorway, two or three figures at his heels. Angel recognizes two of the scents, Xander all three. He disengages his arm from Xander's mouth.

"Sorry, the stuff in the glass smelled off, and you weren't looking." Doesn't know why he feels the need to apologize for something that was so natural to him as to be instinctive, but the vague sense of something wrong in the act is present in the way Angel's scent had taken on a tang.

"Xander! Oh no, I can't believe this." Willow forcing past Wesley and Giles, throwing herself on the bed, chains rattling, pillows flying. Angel observes the blond girl who follows her closely, eyes averted, hands working nervously in front of her.

"Willow, what the hell is wrong with you? Get back from the fangs!" Cordelia grips the back of the chair and watches in confusion and fear as Willow wraps her body around Xander's, arms clutching and legs twining in his, her face in the blood-stiffened shirt he still wears.

Giles and Wesley whisper between themselves, heads bowed, frowns deepening as they converse. All Angel feels is hollow, knowing the whispers from the two men don't include him, knowing that Cordelia is torn between regret at his actions and relief that Xander isn't in the City Morgue right now.

"I'm so sorry, Xander." Willow cries into the shirt, tears wetting the fabric, loosening the blood and smearing her cheek with it.

"It's been a long time since I had one of these dreams." Xander wants to comfort her somehow, lifts his head to look at her instead, catch her eye. She sniffles and looks up, and he forces himself to not stare at the bloody marks on her face. Wonders if he would be able to look away if it wasn't his own blood he was smelling.

"What do you mean dreams?" She's still wrapped around him like a little monkey on a stick, tears slipping from her eyes, and there's something so hurt in her eyes that he feels a flutter of panic, pushes it down.

"The dreams where I'm a vamp. It used to happen all the time before we defeated the Master, remember?" Smiles at her to reassure her, and Willow makes a concerted effort not to recoil from the way his face shimmers in and out of the demon's mask.

"Yes, I remember, I think all of us had dreams like that." Nods her head, and despite the way her heart is kicking up a little, she stays where she is because this is Xander. Xander who she has seen or talked to every day since they could talk, since they were babies sharing drooley, mushy cheerios. She remembers the picture of them doing just that, chubby baby fists clenched around the little circles, arms extended towards each other, and a sob crawls into her throat and chokes her.

"Not even! I never did" Cordelia still stands behind the chair, and her fingers clench and unclench on the back of it.

"Well the ones of us who thought about more than hairspray." Five minutes together, and they've all fallen into old roles, Cordelia sniping and Willow whispering her own come-backs in a voice meant only for Xander to hear. The familiarity of it would be so comforting if the reason for the togetherness wasn't lying on the bed with cold skin and no heartbeat.

"I heard that."

Xander asks Willow earnestly, "It all seems so real though, Wills, do you think I'm in a coma? Make sure they don't pull the plug on me, maybe I'll wake up like Faith."

"Xander, you're not in a coma, and this isn't a dream." Tiny hands on his face and she's so warm. He can hear her heart thumping and smell what he pins as sorrow.

"Dream Willow always says that."

"It's true this time." Head down on his chest again, and she listens to the silence there.

Wesley and Giles are setting up a small table in the corner by Cordelia. Giles opens his satchel, draws out several tied bundles of herbs, a large, leather-bound book whose odor is so clearly magic that Xander can smell it from over on the bed.

Angel watches Xander and Willow on the bed, listens to both sides of the conversation and the demon is whispering to him to throw the girl off the bed, kick the rest of the humans out of the room and claim his newest childe in the age-old manner. His mind flickers around the varieties of self-loathing he's come to know so well plus the added catch twenty-two Xander's death has wrought. Moments of passion rarely bring clarity, and he thinks death might have been the better route for this boy, but Cordelia's pleading couldn't be denied, and in the instant his decision was made, it felt right, felt somehow the only way.

He drags his eyes from the bed when the demon becomes more insistent, watches Gunn stroking Cordelia's back, urging her to come to the other room to sit down, have some coffee. Sees her resist and push him off. Rustle of movement, and his eyes are drawn back to Xander and the woman spreading her scent all over his newest possession.

Xander inhales deeply. "God Wills, you smell so good, like sage and Tara. Were you two doing spells before you popped into my dream world?"

Tara laughs, a quiet little chuckle and Willow smiles, lifting her head from his chest. "Xander. You never change...wait, I mean...uh, you really changed, but then you didn't and don't be mad and try to bite me." She blushes a little, and the extra blood in her cheeks is suddenly the most beautiful thing Xander has ever seen. Too beautiful, and he licks his lips and swallows roughly.

"I'll bite you alright, is it time for the orgy to commence?" Aims for joking and misses, his voice is too low, and there was so much feeling in those first few words.

"What?" Everyone turns to look at him, and Wesley looks as if he might spontaneously combust on the spot. He's holding a small crystal orb and when he turns to gape at Xander it wobbles in his hands. Giles grabs it from him with a terse, "Give me the bloody thing, we can't just pop down to the corner and pick up another one."

"I already did the blood drinking, now it's time for the vampy sex, that's how this always goes. Willow's here after all, but she's still human, that's weird, kind of like the Angel part. I don't think it was ever Angel who turned me before." All eyes swivel to Angel, and he looks back helplessly at them.

Giles clears his throat. "Actually it's time for the ritual to restore your soul." Turns and places the orb in a small black bowl on the table and begins to light the candles. Wesley hands Tara a lightly smoldering bundle of sage, and they begin to walk around the room. The smoke fills the air.

Xander watches the process and turns his head back to Willow. "This is a new wrinkle. You sure we can't do the orgy thing instead?"

She kisses her fingertips, presses them to his forehead and slips off the bed. Walks over to the table where Giles waits with the book, and takes the Orb of Thesulah into her hands. It glows briefly at the contact and she takes a steadying breath. Looks to Giles.

"Ready?" When he nods she closes her eyes and begins the incantation, holds the Orb cupped in her palms, arms extended towards Xander. Angel stands in the shadows of the corner, he eyes unblinking and taking in every detail. The gray smoke hangs in the air, the Orb pulses gently in Willow's hands, and Xander is watching her intently. His eyes are black in the darkened room.

"What is lost, return. Not dead, nor not of the living. Spirits of the interregnum, I call." Her voice is calm and relaxed as she recites the words she has memorized on the ride here tonight. They are clearly imprinted on the inside of eyelids, bright against the darkness.

"I implore you, Lord, do not ignore this request. Neither dead, nor of the living. Let this Orb be the vessel that will carry his soul to him." She opens her eyes, meets Xander's gaze and says in a strong, loud voice, "So it shall be! So it shall be! Now!"

The Orb's light flares, spikes to a brilliant orange-white glow that makes everyone but Angel and Xander close their eyes and then blinks out abruptly. Willow peeks out cautiously, sees the dull cloudy glass and risks a small smile. "It worked....I think."

"No." Angel's voice is very loud in the stillness. "It didn't."

"But, but it glowed, and I *felt* it, I know I had the spell right. Giles," Willow turned to him imploringly. "Didn't I have the spell right?"

"Yes, perfect, just as it is in the original Romany text." He looks at Angel over the top of his glasses. "Why do you say it didn't work?"

"I was watching him, the soul never entered his body." He rubs a hand across his face, looks up at Giles again because he cannot meet Willow's eyes. "I don't know why, but it didn't work."

"Maybe he never lost his soul." Tara pushes hair from in front of her face and looks anywhere but at anyone's eyes.

"Why do you think that, honey?" Willow sets the orb back in its holder and leans over Xander as though she'll be able to see the lack or presence of his soul.

"Am I gonna eat any time soon?" Fire in his belly, and whatever it is that he's holding onto that keeps him from becoming something else is getting restless.

"Well, I for one, have never heard of such" Wesley sputters, his voice over-ridden by Giles, who's looking into the book as he says, "That would be unprecedented to be sure?"

"I thought it might be the case to begin with." Angel walks forward, towards the bed, Xander's head swiveling to follow him. "I thought about it when Darla asked me to turn her. Have either one of your ever known of another souled vampire?"

"There have been legends." Wes says thoughtfully, takes off his glasses and nibbles on the earpiece. "The Sentinal Codex, I believe."

"Quite spurious legends." Giles says with irritation. "And it was never the Sentinal Codex. The Gorgiene, perhaps."

Angel cuts off the beginnings of the argument, continues stepping to the side of the bed now that Willow has moved away to stand by Tara. "He woke too fast, he held his human features, only slipping to feed and right back again. I had to know it wasn't just because of the bloodline. All the vampires in the line of Aurelius are, well, strange. I thought it might have been that." Looks down at Xander, smells the hunger in him as it plucks the strings of the rights of a sire.

"You knew he might have his soul and you didn't say anything?" Cordelia steps up to Angel, the first move she's made towards the bed since Xander regained consciousness. Her eyebrows are drawn together in an angry wrinkle and she points at him, thin finger and sharp nail in his chest.

"I had to know for sure!" Wants them all to leave, leave right now, siren song of ritual and legend thick in the air for him. For Xander as well, but he won't recognize it right away, he'll merely feel the hunger and not realize that it's for more than just blood.

"I don't mean to sound like I'm quoting Little Shop of Horrors but feed me damn it!" Tension in the voice this time, and Angel puts a hand on Xander's shoulder for a moment to quiet him.

"Angel, unshackled him." Willow, her voice calm, her hand is twined in Tara's as they both come to join him at the bedside.

"Here." Angel hands her the keys, and she turns to fit them in the lock. Awkward movements and she leans across him to open first one ankle cuff and then the other.

"This is real, isn't it?" Xander's voice is quiet as she undoes the restraints on his wrists and sits up at last.

"Yes, you'll believe me next time, huh?" Small grin and she hugs him again, her hair in his face. Assault on his sense, sage and Willow, Tara and feline and under that all the smell of her blood. He releases her as quickly as he can without making it obvious.

"Where's Anya?" Xander asks, swinging his legs off the bed. He notes the awkward glances among the Sunnydale contingent and waits for an answer.

"Um, well, she's at home." Willow's mouth quirks into what Xander recognizes as her nervous smile, the one she hopes will make the other person forget to be upset.

"Minding the shop, counting the money." Giles sounds a little too cheery as well, and it's never good when that happens.

"Why isn't she here?" Stands up, wavers on his feet a minute and sits back down.

"Because we didn't tell her what happened." Tara's eyes are wide and honest as she tugs Willow's hand and pulls her closer. Xander isn't smelling fear on her, not mortal-danger fear, but everyone in the room has a high bitter edge in their personal aroma. Everyone except for Angel.

"And we didn't tell Dawn or Buffy either." Giles takes off his glasses and begins to polish them with a white cloth that had covered the orb earlier.

"I can see why on that one. Why not Anya?" Xander's eyes flicker from Giles to Willow and finally rest on Tara. She ducks her chin and refuses to look back.

"Why wouldn't you tell Buffy or Dawn?" Cordelia cuts in, her voice carrying that faint edge of annoyance at feeling left out of the loop in any given situation.

"Cordelia, now is not the time." Wesley turns to her, exasperated, but she stops him with a glare.

"Wes, keep your trap shut. What the hell else is happening?"

"Joyce is dead. That's why I came here." Xander sees the shock hit Cordelia, and her mouth snaps shut. She looks down for a minute, then over at Angel.

"How?" Angel, back to being laconic guy again, Xander notes.

"Aneurysm." Willow tells them and Angel looks both saddened and relieved. No demon, no danger to take him back to Sunnydale.

"Ok, we can't deal with both these things right now. First we have to decide what to do with Xander being dead." Cordelia's back in top form, prioritizing as only she can.

"Indeed." Wes reluctantly agrees with her, which earns him a raised eyebrow before she turns back to Angel.

"Tactless, but true." Giles replaces his glasses, drops the cloth on the table and slides his hands in his pockets.

"What do you want to do, Xander?" Tara's voice is soft and she's looking out from the curtain of her hair at him.

Xander considers for a minute, then says, "I never thought I would say this, but it is over my dead body. I think I want to stick close to Angel. Also, I want to EAT."

"Right, I will get on that this instant." Wesley turns to get the blood but Gunn, silent all this time, stops him.

"I'll get it, y'all got to get your shit together." Walks out the door, heads to the kitchen, no small amount of concern over the events of the day weighing on him.

Back in the room, Angel pulls Xander to his feet. Looks at him closely and says, "Xander, you are welcome to stay with me. There will be rules, but I think you're better off here than going back home right now."

"Rules? I have to wear hair gel? The leather, ok, we can talk about that, but the gel I'm a firm no on." Deadpan face, and Angel considers that he might be entirely serious about it. This is going to be a whole new world for them both.

"Xander, we didn't tell anyone where were going in case something happened, but I can stay if you want." Willow steps up close, takes his hand in hers. Squeezes tight, and Xander pulls her in, kisses the top of her head.

"No Wills, you have to go home and make up an alibi for me. Will you do that? I mean, I know you hate to lie, but I..."

"You needn't worry, Xander. You can explain in your own time. Lord knows this isn't the only lie amongst us." Giles voice is tired, ragged on the edges from stress and lack of sleep.

"What about An? I don't think she's going to sit there all quiet when I don't come back tomorrow."

Tara tugs Willow's sweater at the hem. "A forgetfulness spell?" Tentative suggestion, as if she's afraid someone will turn and berate her for it. Her confidence fades in and out so quickly, even after all this time.

Willow smiles at her, turns back to Xander. "We will think of something and call and tell you."

"Soooooooo, we have a new employee then. God, I'm never gonna get that Armani shirt." Cordelia voice is full of annoyance, and she's rolling her eyes, but Angel sees the tremor in her hands before she crosses them in front of her to still the shaking.

"Can I take a shower? I seem to be covered in blood." Xander plucks at the shirt with both hands, looks to Angel.

"See us out first? And then shower time!" Willow's back in his arms for another hug, Tara waves shyly and mouths "good luck." Giles shakes hands with Angel and Wesley, and Gunn when he returns with the blood in a cup. Wesley thinks the timing of the return is too perfect to be coincidence, that perhaps Gunn was waiting until the sounds of the strangers making ready to leave could be heard before coming back into the crowd. Xander and Angel hang behind the group, Angel's eyes intense on him as he takes the cup and gulps the blood, face morphing effortlessly in and out of human form. It's gone in a few swallows, and he indicates that Xander should follow him to the lobby again.

Cluster of forms at the plywood that now covers the space where the missing doors would be, and Xander watches the remains of his life drive away.

=end=

Part II



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