"Buffy, it will be hours before Willow is back," he said, trying to physically draw her away from the large bay window while mentally drawing her away from her worries.

She held her ground, staring out into the setting sun. "I could have lost you," she said, her voice sounding so weary.

Angel held her tighter, turning her so they were face to face. "I'm fine," he said softly, brushing her hair back from her face.

"That's not the point," Buffy said, clearly in a tumultuous mental state. "You were with her. Clarice's whole purpose in life was to hurt you. She could have ... I could have lost you without ever getting to know you again. You could have died without knowing about Nicholas."

Shushing her gently, Angel hugged her, rocking slowly. "Clarice didn't hurt me," he said softly. A wry grin crossed his features and he added, "Well, at least not in any sort of conventional manner."

Buffy shrugged, reluctantly admitting to herself that what he'd said was true. "Yeah, I suppose," she said begrudgingly. "Getting yourself killed just to frame someone doesn't seem to be very efficient."

He pulled her away from him far enough to look at her face and smiled sadly at her. "No," he admitted, "it isn't, which is all the more frightening."

Swallowing harshly, Buffy replied, "I know."

He hugged her again, trying to soothe her.

"I'm scared," she admitted with a shaky sigh. "Clarice was up to no good and she ended up dead. Whoever killed her is still out there. This is never going to be over."

"We'll figure it out, Buffy," he said gently. "We can't lose hope when we're so close."

Pulling back slightly in his embrace, she looked at him and smiled slowly. "I love you," she said.

He smiled warmly in return. "I love you too."

Craning his head, Angel pressed his lips to hers. She smiled against them, kissing him chastely.

Not one to be deterred, he kissed her again, more demandingly. He had intended the contact to soothe her, but his own nerves were frayed as well, urging him to seek comfort and shelter in the only place he'd ever truly found it.

His lips nudged at hers until they parted, allowing him to snake his tongue into her mouth and taste her sweetness. She exhaled deeply, sighing as he pulled her against his body. She hadn't realized how much she needed to be reassured of his love and safety. Lifting her arms, she wrapped them around his neck, twining her fingers through his dark hair.

"Let's go upstairs," he whispered against her lips.

Buffy nodded and found herself gently scooped up in his embrace. She smiled against his shoulder. It was so stupid, but she loved it when he did things like that. If any other man had tried to pick her up and carry her up the stairs she would have been mortified, but with Angel it was all of the good.

He didn't stop until he'd laid her down on their bed. It was still unmade, as Buffy hadn't felt in the mood to pick up on a Saturday morning. She burrowed into the rumpled covers with a weak smile as Angel stood up and pulled his shirt over his head without a word. Soon, he had her undressed with the same deft efficiency and joined her on the bed.

Buffy gasped as his naked skin made contact with hers, the heat of him still shocking after all this time. She lay on her back, with him wedged between her legs, his weight supported on his elbows as he loomed over her. His large hands framed her face and held her still as he gently nipped at her lips.

Buffy sighed again, only this time in absolute relief. Despite all the horrors that surrounded them and all of the unrest in their lives, this was always a constant. Angel's arms. Angel's kisses. Angel's love. She felt surrounded and possessed and overwhelmed in a way that made her want to weep with joy. Her entire life had been one gut wrenching scene after another, and that was no different now, except that now she had her rock, her shelter, her safe harbor. With Angel to help her weather the storm, she knew that they would make it. That thought alone made her heavy heart infinitely lighter.

Her hands found his upper arms, clutching him tightly, drawing the delicious weight of him down onto her body. She let out a soft grunt as he collapsed on top of her. He turned his head, pressing his mouth against her neck as he smiled. He did nothing to spare her his weight, much to her delight.

Wickedly, he whispered something in her ear, a dirty little phrase in Gaelic that he'd taught her years earlier. Now, as it had then, it caused her to blush furiously. He laughed silently as he both saw and felt her flesh heat with the intensity of her blush.

"I love you," he said as he propped himself up on his elbows, looking down at her with sudden seriousness.

She had a hard life, harder than anyone he'd ever known, yet she still managed to retain an ingrained innocence that he found ever endearing. Most people would have been forever jaded by the horrors that had marked her life, but Buffy still had such a capacity for joy.

Noting the grave look on his face, her bottom lip stuck out in a sudden pout. "Love me," she said, sounding like a demanding child.

His mouth twisted into a lopsided grin and he replied, "Anything for you."

Buffy's pout disappeared as he moved down her body, kissing a line of fire from her breastbone to her bellybutton. His tongue darted out to circle slowly around her bellybutton. Buffy shifted nervously in anticipation and hunger, yelping as his tongue delved into the sensitive indentation.

"Hush," he said with mock severity.

She looked down at him, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth, but acquiesced nonetheless. With some effort, she forced her body to relax under his ministrations, well aware that he was going to take however much time he saw fit and that trying to press the matter would only prolong his sensual torture.

He smiled against her skin, scooting further down until his lips were even with her sex. The smell of her was overwhelming, hot and female, and his. Wasting no time, he used his lips and tongue to gently wedge apart her nether lips. Her muscles tightened and a sharp sound of pleasure issued from her lips, as he tasted her the first time.

Utterly satisfied with how things were progressing, Angel pushed her legs up and apart, draping them over his shoulders. The change in position opened her to him more fully and he paused only a moment before dipping his head to her sex once again.

She writhed, her hands twining in his dark, thick hair as he suckled at her like a starving babe, licking and nipping in turn, alternatively gentle and teasing. Her heels dug into his back as her hips surged forward, her body begging him for the release that he held just out of reach.

While he loved prolonging her climax, Angel felt the growing need for his mate, the need to be buried deep in her body as she achieved release. With his predator's grace, he moved up her body and entered her before any of it had registered in her mind. Her body was much more on top of the situation – or below it as the case may have been.

Her back arched, her neck cording as her release washed over her, with a force she'd rarely known. Angel drove into her deeply, his own release upon him, spurred on by the intensity of her climax. As the last tremors were rippling through her body, his body went rigid above her, a sharp grunt sounding between his clenched teeth.

Long minutes later they lay, entwined on the bed holding and stroking one another languidly. The silence between them was peaceful and comforting, soothing their frayed nerves. Neither of them spoke the rest of the night, not even when Angel reached for her again.

The sun had just crested the eastern horizon, when the earth rumbled, causing the circle made of magic sand on Giles' living room floor to shake precariously. Moments later, a very disheveled Willow appeared inside the circle. Liz and Xander were at her side, catching her before she could stumble and hurt herself. They'd been on watch for her since her disappearance nearly twelve hours earlier. Her trip to D'Hoffryn's demon dimension had been long and draining despite her considerable powers as a witch.

Nick hurried to make a pot of tea while his girlfriend and future father-in-law ushered her to the worn couch in Giles' living room, wrapping her in a warm blanket and making sure she was unharmed. She was shaken and disoriented, utterly drained by the amount of concentration and mystical energy it had required to make the trip between dimensions. Giles and the others understood without having to be told, seeing to her physical needs, but allowing her the solitude and reflection she needed.

She managed to drink a cup of tea before falling into an exhausted slumber that lasted most of the morning. By the time Willow came to again, Xander and Liz had gone home to get some sleep themselves and had been replaced by Buffy and Angel. Nick had refused to sleep, needing to know what Willow's trip meant to his parents. Giles, of course, was present, given that the events were transpiring in his living room, and Anya had arrived to offer any demonic insight she could.

Willow emerged from the shower she'd taken after waking, wrapped in one of Giles' old robes, a fluffy white towel twined around her head. She thankfully took the cup of tea Giles offered and sat down at the head of the table. The others took their seats, watching her expectantly. Nick, chose to remain standing, too nervous to sit.

"You ready?" Willow asked Buffy wryly.

"As I can be," the former Slayer replied, squeezing Angel's hand for support.

Willow took a deep breath before beginning. "Clarice was summoned to seek vengeance upon Angel by a woman named Amanda."

Buffy swallowed heavily at the revelation. Considering the story that Angel had told her about Amanda, about how he'd almost certainly hurt the young woman deeply with his actions. Buffy wasn't shocked that she had resorted to such drastic measures for retribution.

Beside her, Angel closed his eyes tightly. He'd received a lot of undue persecution in his life, but this was not one of those instances. He knew he deserved whatever backlash he received from those events, his only regret was that once again, he'd involved Buffy in his misery.

"So," Buffy said, "if she did this, then she can undo it. Right?"

Willow nodded and shrugged at the same time. "Sort of," she replied.

"Meaning?" Giles asked.

"Meaning that yes if Amanda does a revocation spell, then everything that Clarice did here, her death included, should just sort of ... disappear."

"Like it never happened," Angel said.

"Yes," Willow replied. "But according to D'Hoffryn, Clarice wasn't working alone. I gave him the dagger and he confirmed everything that Buffy, Angel and Anya had said. It wasn't pure. Clarice was working with someone and together, they mixed the alloy from the medallion with another metal."

Giles brow creased heavily and he frowned. "What would be the purpose of that?" he asked aloud.

Willow swallowed harshly and took a deep breath. Her vision fixed on Buffy, her sympathy for her friend clearly visible. "This wasn't just about Angel," Willow said. "The metal that Clarice and her accomplice mixed to create the dagger was taken from a sword."

"A sword?" Buffy asked.

Nodding, Willow continued. "The sword was the one that Angelus pulled from Acathla," she said somberly.

The entire room was silent as Buffy and Angel looked at each other.

"The sword I used to send you to Hell," Buffy whispered, unconsciously rubbing her hand over his chest.

Angel caught her hand, holding it in his comforting embrace for several long seconds. Slowly, he turned back to Willow. "How would they have gotten that sword?" Angel asked. "As far as I know, it's long gone. It went to Hell with me."

The group looked at one another, all of them clearly stumped.

"I have it."

Everyone's head snapped to Buffy.

"I have it," she repeated. "I found it several years ago. A very wealthy collector, who also happened to be a warlock, died with it in his possession. When I was cataloging his estate for the auditors, I took it back. I don't know how he had it, or why, but he had no business with it ... it's mine."

Giles cleared his throat. "This doesn't explain how Clarice would have gotten her hands on the sword," he said.

Buffy shrugged. "I keep it locked away in one of the vaults in the basement of the gallery," she said. "I haven't actually looked at it for years."

"So, someone could have taken it," Anya said.

"I suppose," Buffy replied, "I'm the only one with access to the vaults."

"No you're not," Nick said. "I have access, so do all of your employees."

Buffy's brow furrowed. "I can't imagine any of them wanting it," she said. "I had some construction work done down there a year or two ago. It could have happened then. Any number of people would have been able to get in and out without drawing attention. I never thought to guard the sword because I never thought it would matter to anyone but me."

"Damn," Giles said, "our list of suspects just grew considerably."

Buffy nodded sadly.

"That's why it felt familiar," Angel thought aloud.

Giles nodded soberly at the former vampire. He could only imagine the number of issues the sword would bring up between Angel and Buffy and his heart ached on their behalf. They'd already been through so much.

"Considering the sword's importance to both you and Buffy," Giles said, "it isn't shocking that you felt recognition holding the dagger. Also, knowing that it came from the blessed sword, the power it contains, any blow struck with it would almost certainly prove fatal."

Buffy nodded soberly. "That's why I kept it locked up in the vault," she said. "But still, there was more to it than just the sword. The dagger did feel familiar, but it also felt ... hot ... energetic in a way."

"A spell," Anya said dryly.

"Spell?" Buffy asked, looking to Willow for confirmation.

The redhead nodded with an assurance borne of nearly three decades as a powerful witch. "I thought it was kind of odd how quickly the two of you got back together," she said. "A spell would explain it."

Buffy looked at Angel in shock. This couldn't be happening. Everything that had transpired between Angel and herself was *not* the work of a spell.

"That's not true," she whispered, clearly upset.

Instinctively, Angel pulled her out of her chair and against him, situating her on his lap. He wrapped his arms around her, trying to convince her that his love was real and not the product of someone else's malice.

"No, no, no," Willow qualified quickly, "that's not what I meant."

Buffy swallowed harshly, tears still standing in her eyes, but calmed. "What did you mean?" she asked.

"The spell was most likely some sort of intensifier," the witch explained. "If Clarice truly believed that the animosity between you and Angel was real, it would have been an obvious bet. You hate him, he hates you. She gives Angel this powerful dagger, knowing that he'll have to go to you for answers to its origin. When you touch it, the circuit is complete. The sword was bound to the two of you, and by definition, the dagger would be also."

Buffy's brow furrowed again as Willow's words sank in. "So, if we had hated each other, when we both touched the dagger, what would have happened?"

Willow shrugged. "I can't say for sure, but if your hatred had been true ... It's power, combined with the power of the dagger and your history with the sword ... I imagine you would have tried to kill each other. One of you would have undoubtedly succeeded."

Buffy looked at Angel, her fear clearly written on her face. His features did not echo the sentiment. He had no fear about the veracity of their commitment to one another.

Slowly, he smiled and leaned in to gently kiss her on the lips. "But we didn't hate each other," he said meaningfully.

"No, you didn't," Giles said. "So rather than killing each other you ... er ... "

Buffy blushed furiously and looked at her hands, obviously remembering all of the things she and Angel had done. He wasn't quite so demure, merely smiling at Giles.

"And then Clarice turned up dead," Anya said, bringing everyone back to the item at hand.

"Someone hadn't intended for her to put the spell on the dagger," Nick said.

Giles nodded. "And when she did and it worked the opposite of the way she'd hoped, her partner decided to kill her and frame Angel for the murder."

The group stared at each other for a moment, letting everything sink in.

"We have to find her partner," Nick said.

"It's not like I can just call her up," Angel said in exasperation.

"Why not?" Buffy demanded. "You say you have all this remorse about everything that happened between you two. Maybe you should just call her up and apologize."

Angel dropped his head, cradling it in his hands as he sat at his dining room table. The mere thought of having to confront Amanda after all he'd put her through was terrifying, but he knew his own anguish was nothing compared to that which the young woman had been subjected.

An apology, even a sincere, extremely heart felt one, would seem such inadequate retribution for his actions ... especially now that he was with Buffy. He'd told Amanda he never wanted children, yet he was trying to have one with Buffy. How could a revelation like that not just be more painful to Amanda?

"I don't see how this can work," he said dejectedly.

Buffy sighed, taking a seat next to him. "We don't have any guarantee that it will work," she admitted, "but it's the only option we have. And it's long overdue." She gave Angel a meaningful look, which immediately had him studying the floor intently.

Dan smiled warmly at Elizabeth the next morning and led her downstairs to the maze of storage rooms underneath the gallery. He saw her around frequently, given her attachment to Buffy's son. Dan had always thought she was an attractive woman, tall and dark haired, infinitely more charming then either of her parents.

At times, she almost reminded him of Clarice.

Liz was familiar with the dark arts. She knew what the things were that went bump in the night. The Hellmouth was closed, but not sealed. Demon activity still existed in the world, though not nearly as prevalent as before the End of Days.

That was all going to change. Nothing could stop that, especially not the attractive young woman following him.

Clarice had been a demon herself, though hiding in the guise of a young human woman. None of her knowledge had kept her neck from snapping easily. Dan glanced back at Liz's graceful features and smiled.

"The vaults are this way," he said, motioning towards the back of the storage room.

Liz followed him, only half-paying attention as he keyed in the codes that unlocked the door. She stepped aside as he pulled it open. The vault looked like a gaping maw, dark and forbidding. With practiced ease, Dan stepped into the darkness and pulled the slender chain that lit the lone, bare bulb in the ceiling.

"Here you go," he said pleasantly. "Sure you don't need any help finding anything?"

"No," Liz said with a smile. "I just need some of Willow's old things that Buffy has stored."

"All right," he said, "but I'll be just outside. Let me know if you need anything."

Liz nodded and watched him until he left. She didn't honestly think that Dan had anything to do with Buffy and Angel's problems. He'd been around for years, never being anything other than dependable and trustworthy. He was Buffy's right hand at the gallery.

But she wasn't naive enough to think that things were always as they seemed, so she was careful to pull the vault door partly closed, blocking Dan's view of her actions. Nick was still furious with her and she didn't want to compound his wrath by being careless. It had been collectively decided that she should look for the sword under the pretense of finding Willow's old things. She had argued that it would draw less attention and probably be less likely to tip off Clarice's accomplice if he/she was still hanging around.

Nick, of course, had been violently opposed to the idea. In the end, he'd lost the vote, but he was still angry and in a rather prickly mood. If she ended up hurt as a result of this, he would probably totally fly off the handle.

With that in mind, Liz walked to the wall that was covered floor to ceiling with steel sliding drawers. They were numbered and she headed towards the one in which Buffy had placed the sword. As quietly as possible, she slid the drawer open.

The lighting was dim, but the sword looked complete, the metal glinting from the depths of the velvet lined drawer. Carefully, she removed it and held it under the light. At first glance, it seemed whole, but under closer inspection, she could see where a section of the blade had been removed and replaced with a different type of metal.

"Liz?" Dan called. "You okay in there?"

The house wasn't what Buffy had expected. Of course, she wasn't sure what she had expected. What did the home of the woman who was trying to destroy your soul mate's life look like? At least a lot of black and metal statuary would have seemed more appropriate. It all looked so damned normal. She had the same tablecloth in her own dining room. In fact, just the night before, she and Angel had ...

Buffy pushed the thought away. Amanda definitely didn't need to know what she and Angel had done on the dining room table the previous evening.

Buffy had been shocked when Angel told her that Amanda wanted to speak with her in person after his lengthy phone conversation the night before. Their conversation had apparently gone as well as could be expected. Amanda was still extremely upset, but apparently Angel's repentance had shocked her. What had she thought? That Angel was truly an unfeeling monster? His actions may have been reprehensible, but not without motive.

Amanda smiled nervously as she set the mug of coffee in front of Buffy and took a seat at the table across from her. "I didn't know if you'd come," the younger woman said.

Buffy studied Amanda, now in her late twenties. She was pretty in a very normal sort of way with dark curly hair and huge green eyes. She was tall and willowy. Buffy could see how Angel had been attracted to her, she seemed so helpless, so vulnerable, even now.

"I had to," Buffy said, "you're the only one who can stop all of this madness."

Amanda swallowed heavily, her eyes filling with tears. "I was just so ... wounded," she said.

"That is understandable," Buffy answered honestly. "Angel told me what he did. It must have been terrible for you."

She nodded. "It was," she admitted.

"I can't imagine," Buffy said with a sigh.

Amanda looked at her for several moments. "You two are married now," she said, "and you have a son. I always thought that Angel didn't want to have kids ..."

Buffy didn't wish to cause the woman any more pain, so she left out the part about their recent attempts to conceive a second child. "Our son is going to be twenty-five this year," Buffy explained, "Angel didn't know about him until very recently."

"Oh," Amanda said, somewhat consoled by the fact that Angel hadn't recently had a child with his new lover.

"Can I ask you a question?" Buffy said quietly.

"Of course."

"How did you *know* how to do what you did?"

"What do you mean?" Amanda asked, shifting nervously in her chair as she clutched her mug of coffee.

"The spell," Buffy elaborated. "You really don't look like the type who dabbles in witchcraft and you waited nearly ten years to do this. Why?"

Amanda shrugged, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. "A man approached me one day," she confessed. "He knew everything about Angel and myself. He dredged up all of these memories that I thought I'd finally gotten rid of. He was the one who showed me what to do."

"Someone ... helped ... you summon the vengeance demon?'

"Yes," Amanda replied. "I didn't want to hurt Angel," she said pitifully. "I mean, I was angry, but I never meant for it to go this far."

Buffy's eyes narrowed. They'd just found Clarice's accomplice.

"Do you think that you could possibly describe the man that ... helped ... you?"

By the time Dan pulled the vault door back, Liz had managed to return the sword to a drawer and feign interest in a crate of miscellaneous belongings.

"You're awful quiet," Dan said, smiling.

Liz was returning Dan's smile when her phone rang shrilly in the confined, concrete space. She jumped, yelping in fright. She grabbed the phone and laughed at herself. She'd never been one to jump at shadows.

"Liz?" Buffy yelled frantically.

"Yeah," she said, frowning. Why was Buffy calling her?

"Thank gods," Buffy said.

"Is everything okay?"

"Yes," Buffy replied quickly, "I just need you to get over to Giles' quickly."

"But I haven't found ... the things Willow needs yet."

"I don't care," Buffy said. "It's Nick. You need to hurry."

Liz hung up the phone and sprinted for the stairs.

"Where's Nick?" Liz gasped as she threw open Giles' door, breathing hard from her run.

Nick immediately grabbed her, enveloping her in his strong arms and holding her tightly. "You're okay," he chanted over and over. Liz hugged him back, not understanding what was going on, but infinitely grateful that he was okay.

"She's here," Giles said into the phone.

"Someone want to explain what's going on?" Liz asked, pulling herself away from Nick far enough to look him in the eye.

"It's Dan," he replied, his voice cold and hard.

 

The End