Buffy the Vampire Slayer

Fire & Ice

Chapter 3

Let the Sun Fall Down

Buffy was freaking out, but she was doing it quietly. She didn't think that Xander needed any more stress. He was sitting with his head in his hands in an uncomfortable chair outside of his parents' rooms, which were right next to each other. He was pale as a ghost and he hadn't said anything since he'd called them and told them he was riding in the ambulance. He had fresh marks on his cheeks like he'd been hit, and it made the rage in her rise even higher.

Being the Slayer, she was used to being targeted by maniacs like Angelus. She remembered Lothos, the terrifying vampire king who had set up shop in Los Angeles. He had made hunting Slayers his game, used his hypnotic powers to send her nightmares, stalked her for a month before making her watch her Watcher Merrick die in front of her. She was the Slayer – she'd risen above that and stabbed the bastard through with a flagstaff after she set him on fire. She die before she allowed a monstrous bastard like Angelus to put poor, sweet, goofy Xander through the same hell.

Willow and Giles came up after talking to the doctor, and Willow went instantly to Xander's side. Xander didn't say anything but he gripped her hand hard enough that Willow's fingers went white. She didn't say anything, just ran a soothing hand down his back. Buffy drifted her fingers through Xander's hair sadly.

"Will they be okay?" she asked Giles as he came up, putting a hand on Xander's shoulder.

"Yes – there wasn't a high amount drained from them, thank God. Their blood count is a little low, which will present itself as mild anemia. The doctor told me that there was some alcohol in their systems; they likely won't remember the event at all," he said comfortingly to Xander. "They were very lucky that you found them when you did—"

"Lucky?" Xander snarled, bursting to life with a suddenness that made Willow jerk. He looked up at Giles, tears streaking his face, shaking, his eyes huge with hurt and rage. "Lucky?!" he yelled loudly. He let out a loud, harsh burst of humorless laughter. "Stupid, Giles! Stupid Xander, cuz that's all I'm good for!" He slammed his fist down on the table next to him and started shuddering violently.

"Xander, this is not your fault!" Buffy said flatly.

"How is it not?" he asked miserably. "I let him in! I invited him into my home and I…god, this is all my fault! How could I be so stupid? All I could think was that…like he would've…me, anyway…" he mumbled, ashamed.

"Hey!" Giles said angrily, gripping Xander's shoulder very hard. "You will find someone one day, Xander, so don't ever assume that you aren't worthy. This…fiend has used you as a pawn and you are not to blame for that."

"Which is why I'm going to find him and kill him," Buffy said coldly. "This vamp is crazy, he's evil, and he's hurting my friends trying to hurt me. I don't know what his deal is but I officially do not care. He's going down." She turned before they could say anything, her back stiff, and stalked down the hospital hallway.

"Buffy!" Giles hissed from behind her, trying to stop her.

"You can't stop me, Giles!" she said angrily. "The Three found me near the Bronze and so did he! He's set up shop in here; he lives nearby! He's put Xander through this…I don't even know why! It doesn't make sense! Look at Xander – what he's been put through!"

"Frankly, Buffy, from my brief impression of his parents I'm not entirely sure that it was Angel who hit him," Giles said flatly.

"Oh," Buffy said, her voice small.

"Xander needs us here," Giles said gently.

"What do you wanna bet they fought about? The guy thing," Buffy said angrily. "And how do you wanna bet they found out? He's playing with Xander! I need to stop this thing from hurting Xander again!"

"Buffy, this is no ordinary vampire, if there is such a thing! He's clearly not afraid of the Master, fights other demons and wins, he's faced the Three! This is going to take more than a simple stake—"

"I know," Buffy said, her eyes narrowed dangerously.

"Buffy!" Willow said frantically from behind them. "Xander's gone!"

"What?" Buffy asked, whirling – sure enough, the room was empty.

"I went to check on Mrs. Harris, because she's waking up, and I looked up and Xander was gone!" Willow exclaimed, frightened. "Do you think he's gone after…"

"I know he has," Buffy said flatly. "You two stay here and whatever you can get out of Mrs. Harris, do it. I'm gonna find Angel before he has a chance to get to Xander."

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Xander didn't have a clue what he was doing, where he was going. All he knew was that he couldn't take it anymore, couldn't take another second. His parents would forget their drunken rage and then he could lay his memories of Angel to rest in the painful dust of Jesse's death. He could go on with life, whatever that was. He had to believe that, or…

He opened the book cage and grabbed a few stakes, some holy water. He didn't suppose he needed anything else. Either this was going to be over very fast, or it was going to be over very fast. One way or another, this was going to end, tonight. He wouldn't think of Angel's lips, the feeling of that mad kiss in the moonlight. He wouldn't think of the pleading look in Angel's eyes as he dropped Tony's still-alive body.

Instead he gripped the stake tighter, wrapped the jacket tighter around himself, and left the library without a backward glance.

888

"The Slayer is out there, Angelus, out there hunting you like a dog, right now," Darla whispered in his ear. Angel sat, still as a statue, in his chair. She was next to him, her ruby red lips brushing against him. "She wants to kill you for what you are – after all, you haven't done anything, right?" He felt her lips curl upward into a smile against his cheeks.

"Leave. Me. Alone," he whispered, through gritted teeth. Every part of him was agony. The denial of the blood was still racing through him like razors through every fiber of his being. But that wasn't nearly as bad as the memory of the look on Xander's face. Monster, his face screamed. It was like a constant knife in his heart, lancing through his entire being, coursing through him like acid.

"Just kill me," Xander whispers brokenly. Angel shuddered in pure self-loathing as he remembered the horror on Xander's face. What would it be like, he wondered, if Xander cared about him the way that he cared about his parents, his friends? He wondered at the thought of being encompassed by Xander's warmth and he cringed. He'd never have that. Hadn't he done enough damage?

Still, Darla, his Sire, at one time his everything and now…he couldn't figure this one out, couldn't tell what his next move was. There she stood, a black goddess whispering poison in his ear disguised as honey. "What did you think?" she whispered now, undeterred, an evil breeze from a cursed night poisoning everything that he had fought so hard to achieve up to this point. "Did you think that he would see your face…your true face…and give you a kiss?"

Angel shuddered and jerked away from her, but she followed him like a mother wolf on the scent of blood in the winter. He shuddered with wanting her and with the hatred for her coursing through him like acid; he was being torn apart into a million tiny pieces, one for Xander, one for Darla, one for Whistler, one for the powers…

"For a hundred years you've not had a moment's peace because you will not accept what you are," Darla said strongly, passion rising in her voice. "That's all you have to do!" Were it were that simple! he thought in despair. "Accept it!" Darla continued, her voice rising in strength, shooting through his being, snapping his self-control. "Don't let the Slayer hunt you down while you whimper and mewl like a mangy human! Kill! Feed! Live!"

"ALRIGHT!" he roared, leaping from his chair. In a blur of speed she was up against a wall, slammed hard enough to bruise, his face inches from hers, a mixture of rage and lust and bloodlust staining his features. He has snapped, is snapped, can't take it anymore, can't take her anymore, it's all coming to a head and he has no idea where it's leading, just here – memories of shoving Darla against a wall just like this, the girl screaming and crying behind them as he pushes aside dress and pants until they are skin to skin, joined and screaming in pleasure as the blow flows around them like rubies – he roared in pain and rage as he shook his entire body like a beast to dispel the memories.

"What do you want?" Darla asked hesitantly, perhaps realizing that she has at last pushed him too far, that he is on the brink of something, something that she can't realize the implications of it because she's demon and he is demon but he is also other. She's afraid of him, and that brings him fierce pleasure.

"I want it finished," he snarled dangerously.

"That's good," she whispered, bringing their lips together. "You're hurting me," she whispered as he tightened his grip as hard as he could, keeping her away from him, nearly whimpering from the pain in his head, in his heart. "That's good too."

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Jessica Harris's body was aching and her head was throbbing and the man from the school and Xander's little friend were doing nothing to make her mood better.

"Look, I don't want to talk about it, alright? God damn, why they won't let me smoke in here," she muttered. "Trying to give me Nicorette, damn gum's gonna kill me quicker." And Jessica's always been better at avoiding the confrontation than actually finishing it, so she can avoid this too. She doesn't want to think about it.

"It's very important, Mrs. Harris – also, we'll need to know where Xander is staying tonight; he hasn't left the hospital since he called the ambulance," Mr. Giles said now, and she felt a bolt of pain run through her but she viciously quelled it.

"I'm sure he can stay at his little boyfriend's house, I mean he and his sister are way too old anyway," she said bitterly. And who she was bitter with – her son or that strange, beautiful man or his stranger, beautiful sister she couldn't tell.

"His sister?" Willow said suddenly, her brow wrinkled.

"Yeah, that blonde chick that came over tonight," Jessica said. "Darla or something; said that her brother wanted to give us back Xander's shirt. Stupid, stuck up bitch she was too," Jessica said angrily.

"Darla…how long was Darla over before Angel came over?" Willow asked.

"His name is Angel?" Jessica asked in disgust. "Great. Not only is my son a fag he's dating a freak."

"Mrs. Harris!" Mr. Giles said, and she froze. He looked pissed; not just pissed but his eyes were narrowed in a disgust-face that could rival her mother's and she found herself answering the question.

"Like an hour, maybe; I blacked out…I came to and that weird guy was running…but I didn't really see him before – damn this headache sucks," she whined. When she looked up the librarian and Willow were gone. More confused than ever, and a little ashamed of what she'd said to Xander, and desperately wanting a drink, Jessica laid down and decided to sleep.

"Call Buffy, Willow," Giles said. "We have a problem."

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"Oh, crap," Buffy muttered as she hit the library and saw the library cage door wide open. She hurried toward it and sighed in relief when she noticed that none of the big guns were missing. Xander could wield a stake if he was forced but a bigger weapon would only be used against him. She needed to get out there before Xander hurt himself…or Angel found him.

The phone was ringing but she didn't have time to answer it. She stuffed a few stakes in her belt, grabbed the crossbow off the wall and a bushel of arrows and then hightailed it out of the library.

888

Xander headed towards the alleys outside the Bronze, where the Three had attacked him before Angel showed up. He'd heard Buffy in the hospital on his way out – "The Three found me near the Bronze and so did he; he lives nearby!" – so maybe the Bronze was the best place to look.

He shuddered as he felt the crawling sensation of eyes on the back of his neck and he sped up, heading toward the Bronze. The door of the club was open, the lock broken, swinging in the wind, creaking like a crypt door. He knew without being told that Angel was there, waiting for him. This was it, the big one. Xander carefully pulled the stake out and clutched his cross tighter as he headed tentatively in. To his relief the emergency lights were on, leaving much of the club in shadow but still giving him enough light to see by.

He glanced around at the eerie, empty building, the feeling of eyes on him overwhelming. He was trembling and stopped himself angrily. He wasn't scared, he wasn't nervous, he didn't feel anything, he was just going to do this, or he was going to die, so buck up and finish it, damn it! "I know you're there!" he yelled angrily. "I know what you are! Come out, damn it!"

"Do you?" Angel's deep, lovely voice drifted out of the shadows of the Bronze. "You think you know what I am, boy?"

Xander whirled around, his eyes darting from left to right, desperately trying to find him. He was in way over his head here, out of his league, and he didn't know the next move to make. He licked his dry lips nervously.

"I'm just an animal, right?" Angel drawled from the top of the balcony, and Xander jerked up but he was already gone, gone into the shadows, leaving Xander alone with fear and uncertainty at what Angel was playing at, what the meanings were of Angel's words Angel's face looking up at him, the fierce demonic eyes somehow conveying a desperation, a plea – Xander shook himself angrily and remembered the other half, the half where Angel had lied, where Angel had tormented his parents, where Angel had attacked his parents and left them on the lawn…

"You're not an animal," Xander said angrily, his courage restored by his anger. "Animals don't play with people like you do!"

"Let's get it done," Angel growled dangerously, appearing like a wraith out of the shadows to Xander's left. Xander whirled around and threw himself at him, cross making Angel growl, but Angel simply leapt over Xander's head in a dizzying display of speed and strength, landing on one of the pool tables. Xander ran toward him, almost sobbing at his obvious ineptitude and Angel threw him a sneer over his shoulder and a blur of movement later he was up on the catwalk.

Xander whirled around, cross raised protectively, when suddenly Angel was behind him, throwing him to the ground roughly. He straddled Xander's body and raised his fist to throw a punch when Xander grabbed a bottle of holy water and crushed it on the side of Angel's head. Angel yelped in pain and Xander kicked him in the chest, throwing Angel off. Before Angel could recover Xander desperately pressed his advantage, holding the cross out and driving Angel toward the wall, blisters popping up along his jawline as the holy water trickled down.

Xander raised the stake up high…and froze.

Angel glared down at him, his face demonic and vicious, fangs wicked sharp and jagged, eyes burning yellow and unnatural, utterly alien as they glared at him…but it wasn't a real glare. Xander could see the same desperation in Angel's eyes that he'd seen at his house and it stopped him cold. Under his eyes, a strange electricity seemed to flow underneath Angel's skin until the demon was gone and there was just Angel, his beautiful, strong savior staring down at him, an unreadable, bitter expression on his face.

"Come on," Angel murmured, intimate, a voice for just the two of them, drawing them into their private world, just like Xander had felt before they kissed. He felt his resolve dissolving, felt… "Don't go soft on me now," Angel whispered, so close, so close that Xander could feel him on his skin. Just like that, he dropped the stake. Angel sighed, his head drooping against the wall.

"Why?" Xander asked, breathing hard, face flushed, overwhelmed with pure emotion. "Why didn't you just kill me when you had the chance? Was it a joke, to you, to make me feel for you and then…" he trailed off, hating the weakness in his voice, hating even more the undeniable connection between him and Angel, the way their eyes met and held. "I want to just hate you," he whispered bitterly.

"Hatred…feels good, doesn't it? Feels simple," Angel said softly, not moving, holding his gaze, connecting them.

"I invited you into my home, I…" Xander couldn't seem to find words to express what he wanted, weird enough because usually Xander's problem was that he couldn't shut up. "You attacked my family!"

"Why not?" Angel asked with a careless smile, stepping closer, invading Xander's space. "I killed mine!" His smile was charming, inviting, and Xander stepped away, his legs shaking. "I took my time with that one, my first kill. You never forget your first kill," Angel confided with a congenial smile. "The pain, the terror, everything I'd ever subconsciously wanted to do to them, freeing the demon within me. It was like a drug! I had to keep going! I killed their friends, and their friends' children," Angel sing-songed, driving Xander back until Xander was pressed back against a wall, Angel next to him, above him, until they were the only two people in the world.

"Please, stop," Xander whispered. Angel smiled and ran a gentle finger along Xander's face, leaving goose bumps in its wake. Xander cursed himself for wanting to lean into the touch, the gentle look on Angel's face, the soothing voice despite the horrific subject.

"For over a hundred years I offered an ugly death to everyone I met, and I did it with a song in my heart," Angel whispered harshly, drawing his hand back from Xander like he'd touched fire.

"What changed?" Xander murmured, unable to stop himself from leaning in closer to the magnetic force that was whatever was between him and Angel.

"I murdered a girl, about your age," Angel said softly, unable to meet Xander's eyes. Shame? "Beautiful," Angel said softly, and Xander was disgusted to feel a low twinge of jealousy somewhere in the back of his mind. "Dumb as a post," Angel continued with a humorless chuckle. "But the favored daughter of her clan, as it turns out."

"Her clan?"

"Romani," Angel said, the word rolling off of his tongue with an inflection like a curse. "Gypsies," he elaborated at Xander's blank look. "The elders of her tribe decided that I must be punished for my evil, so they conjured up the perfect punishment for me: they restored my soul."

"What?" Xander said, unsure. Angel smiled softly to himself, staring at something over Xander's head.

"When you become a vampire, it's like a demon is born into your body. The demon knows nothing but you so it becomes you – your thoughts, your memories, your desires, every dark and evil thought you've ever had in your subconscious. It becomes you, but the real you? Your soul? That's gone, vanished from your body because the demon essentially kills it and sends it on to whatever the hell is out there waiting for you.

"No conscience, no remorse, just the total, unbridled evil of you unleashed with the power of a demon. It's an easy way to live," Angel said bitterly. He focused his eyes on Xander, frightening with the intensity of his gaze. "You have no idea what it's like to have done all the things that I've done…and to care," he whispered, his voice small and tortured, pleading for understanding, for Xander to care. "I haven't fed on a living human being for a century."

"So you started with my family?" Xander asked, confused, but somehow the words rang wrong after everything that Angel had told him.

"I didn't bite them!" Angel said urgently, cradling Xander's cheek with his hand. Their eyes met, one moment of perfect understanding between them, the fire of where their skin met burning through them. Xander knew then that he believed him, that he trusted Angel with his life, one flicker of knowledge jolting through his mind…and his heart.

"Then why didn't you say something?" Xander asked with a small smile. Angel didn't meet his eyes, something else still on his mind.

"I wanted to! To smell that blood, after so long, hold that life in my hands and know how easy it would be to sate the thirst, to drink that life into myself…it was almost more than I could bear! I wanted to kill you tonight! You have no idea how tempting you are to me, how much I want – when I kissed you, you have no idea how much I wanted to drink you. I could have made you a vampire, murdered you for all eternity. I wanted to!" His voice rang with self-disgust and he couldn't bring himself to look at Xander.

Xander knew that he had to take the step here, so he held his heart in his hands and stepped toward him, cupping Angel's beautiful face with his hand, so strange that someone so beautiful should allow him, Xander Harris, to touch him! How Angel trembled at his touch! "You didn't," Xander said simply. "You could have, and I couldn't have stopped you. You didn't."

"Xander—" Angel sighed, leaning into his touch. Xander shrugged his coat off under Angel's watchful gaze and slowly tilted his neck. Angel froze, trembling, running a shaking finger along Xander's neck, seeming to enjoy how Xander shivered under his touch. "Xander," he said again, like Xander's name was a prayer, a benediction.

"See?" Xander said shakily. "Not as easy as it looks." Angel gave him a shaky smile, slowly smoothing his big hand along Xander's neck, their eyes meeting, a beginning of something—

"Sure it is," said a harsh, bitterly angry voice from behind them. Xander whirled around to see a tall, beautiful blonde woman he'd never seen before wearing a little Catholic schoolgirl outfit, regarding them with cold rage and hurt regret from behind ice blue eyes, and he felt a trickle of fear that he could not explain run down his spine. Angel moved swiftly to put Xander protectively behind him.

"Darla," Angel said softly, and Xander didn't have a clue what was going on here but he knew that it was nothing good.

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"Buffy!" she heard as she finally hit the Bronze. Jumping out of the Gilesmobile were Giles and Willow, who ran up behind her.

"What are you guys doing here?!" Buffy asked angrily. "I wanted you guys out of danger! This guy is crazy and dangerous—"

"Buffy, Angel didn't attack Xander's parents!" Willow said frantically.

"What?" Buffy asked, confused.

"We don't know what's going on, but from everything we can ascertain, Angel did not attack Xander or his parents," Giles said worriedly.

"So who did?"

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"Do you know what the saddest thing in the world is?" Darla asked quietly, stepping slowly toward them.

"You thinking you look good in that outfit?" Xander quipped, falling on humor to block his fear. Darla smirked and took another step toward them, stopping as Angel growled at her, moving Xander further behind him.

"Loving someone who used to love you," she whispered, pain mixing with rage on her face. Angel looked away from her, caught up in a private pain that Xander could practically feel, feel the misery emanating off of Angel.

"You two were, uh, involved?" Xander asked from behind Angel. He felt a pang of pain; god, how could Angel feel anything for him when she stood there, so perfect in front of them? He froze as her classically beautiful features shifted, morphed into the familiar face of a vampire, and she licked her fangs, her eyes full of intent as she glared at him balefully. Xander manfully repressed the urge to take a step back.

"For generations," she said quietly, staring at Angel. "Look at you, useless little boy. You have no idea what you're dealing with and you stand there and think you understand anything?" Her voice was rising with rage, her fangs bared in a fearsome death grin. "I made him, you worthless human!" she spat. "There was a time when we shared everything, wasn't there Angelus?"

"Darla," Angel whispered, stepping forward. "Stop—"

"Shut up, you worthless animal!" she screamed. "Look at you! The mighty Angelus, the Scourge of Europe! A trained whore for the Slayer's useless human pet, brought down to nothing! You reject who and what you are and for what? Your human soul? It's an infection, a disgusting abomination! I should have killed you when I first saw what you had become! But I allowed you to run yourself down, to ruin yourself! You could have come back, assumed your rightful place! We could have ruled the world, Angelus, when the Master ascends!

"You had a chance to come home to our world, to me," Darla snarled. "But you threw it all away…because of him!" She spit it out like poison, Angel flinching at her every word like she was brandishing a whip at him. "You love someone who hates us! You're sick, and you'll always be sick!"

Angel jerked away from her, his eyes flinching in pain and Xander took a step toward him but froze when Darla leapt toward them. "But you're not going to die, Angel – you're going to go before the Master in chains. Such beauty," she murmured in mock despair. "But before that? I'm going to have some fun with your little toy," she whispered. Angel froze. "And when you're chained to the Master's torture chambers you'll go knowing that I tortured him to death and you couldn't do a thing to stop me while he dies." She smiled slowly in ecstasy at the thought.

Xander jerked away, tending toward blind panic, and started running toward the door. "Xander!" Angel yelled, and Xander couldn't help but turn and freeze in horror as Darla pulled two large, sleek silver pistols out of her waistband. Before either of them could so much as move Darla's luscious lips had curled back into a feral smile as she raised one and shot Angel point blank in the chest.

"Angel!" Xander yelled frantically as Angel howled in pain and collapsed on the floor.

"Oh, don't worry," Darla drawled happily. "Bullets can't kill vampires! Hurt them like hell, but…" she trailed off with a lackadaisical shrug. She raised the guns up and pointed them right at him and Xander froze like a deer in the headlights. "Now, you, on the other hand…"

Xander ducked and dived as fast as he could under the nearest pool table before she started firing.

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"Did you guys hear that?" Buffy asked, freezing. They all stared at each other as another burst of gunfire sounded off and then they all ran towards the door.

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"So many body parts, so few bullets," Darla said with a regretful sigh. "Let's start with the kneecaps – no fun dancing without them." Behind his pool table Xander was shuddering in terror with every step he heard Darla take toward him. That was when the door burst open and Xander peeked above the table.

Darla raised the guns but Buffy was faster; she raised the crossbow and fired, knocking Darla backward. Xander held his breath until Darla straightened up, the bolt sticking out of her upper stomach. "Close, but no heart, Slayer," Darla said derisively, and raised the gun and fired before Buffy could reload. Buffy yelped and threw herself to the side, ducking behind a pillar. Darla's bullets hit the pillar a time or two before Darla stopped.

She turned back toward Xander, unconcerned with having the Slayer behind her back. Imagine the Master's surprise when Darla returned with news of the Slayer's death! That could wait, however. Now, vengeance was calling. She stalked slowly toward the pool table, where she could smell the reek of human fear. Such a pathetic little thing, useless. The Slayer's other little friend at least had a smell of potential. How could her Angel have left her for something so pathetic?

Driven on by hatred, driven on by anger, by pain, by loss, Darla didn't notice when Angel moaned in pain and staggered toward the fallen crossbow bolt.

"Oh, come on, Xander, you useless little bastard," she called out. "Take it like a man!"

Xander crouched behind the pool table, cursing himself viciously. All he could do was tremble, her words cutting into him like daggers of truth: useless useless useless they whispered over and over. He bit back a sob of terror/pain as she came closer and closer…

Buffy loaded her crossbow again and took a deep breath, fully aware that if Darla got a shot off before she could she would be dead in a matter of moments; she was the Slayer and that was the chance she took. She tightened her finger on the trigger and got ready…

Darla danced toward her target, her fangs bared, lips drawn back in a terrible smile…

"NO!" Angel roared, his voice a fury of love, hate, desire, disgust, bloodlust, sorrow a million emotions, a century's worth of pain and fury behind him as he drew up with a last gust of strength and as Buffy burst from behind her pillar and Xander jerked up from the pool table Angel drove the crossbow bolt into his beloved Sire's back and straight through her heart.

The scene was frozen in some bizarre tableau, the Hellmouth's version of avante garde. It was all zeroed down to that one moment where Darla stood frozen, guns clattering to the floor, Angel's entire body shuddering, Buffy nearly dropping the crossbow in shock, Xander's gasp, Giles and Willow watching it all. But time catches up with itself, and Darla turned, her vampire face gone, leaving only the gorgeous woman she had once been behind.

"Angel?" she whispered, shock, pain, horror, terror, love, hatred all boiled down into that one word, that one name like a curse or a caress. And then she slowly fell to the floor, where she burst apart into a million tiny ashes and particles of graveyard dust to be tramped underfoot by the teenaged mass who partied at the Bronze every night. Four hundred years she had lived, and now gone, her greatest creation, her most devoted lover standing above her remains, still as a statue.

Angel slowly stared down, his expression unreadable, his mouth open, his eyes wide. Xander took a hesitant step forward, and Angel looked up. Their eyes met, perhaps for the last time, and in that moment Xander knew that he understood perfectly everything that Angel was going through, and knew equally that Angel was leaving. Angel's eyes, filled with pain, sadness, regret, said goodbye, said a million things that Angel couldn't allow himself to say out loud, as damn honorable as he was.

Instead, Angel turned on unsteady feet and stumbled out of the Bronze, to vanish into the night's comforting darkness, leaving Xander standing still, Buffy, Willow and Giles slowly walking toward him, out of the darkness.

"Willow," Xander said slowly. "Can I stay at your house tonight? My parents…"

"Of course, Xander," Willow said softly. Then she abruptly burst into tears and surged forward, and they hugged, held each other tightly, oldest friends, brother and sister. Buffy smiled slightly, holding Giles' hand.

The sun would be rising soon.

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"ARRRGH!" the Master roared in fury, lifting a massive candleholder, smashing it to the ground in fury and pain and horror, bending the hundred-pound iron wait into a curl easy as crushing dirt. He screamed again, his voice high and let loose a deep demonic roar from the recesses of his rage, his grief. He slammed his fist into the rock, breaking it, smashed wooden chairs, destroyed everything he could lay his hands on, finally sinking to the floor in grief, speechless. The Anointed One watched it all with cold, unfeeling eyes.

"Forget her," the child said flatly.

"How dare you!" the Master exclaimed, abruptly furious. "She was my favorite! For four hundred years…"

"She was weak. You don't need her," he responded calmly. "I'll bring you the Slayer."

"But to lose her to Angel," the Master said, horrified, almost to himself. "He was to have sat at my right hand, come the day…and now…"

"They're all against you," the child said, his eerie voice soothing. "But soon you shall rise. And when you do? We'll kill them all."

The Master allowed himself to be led away…but in his heart he screamed for vengeance.

Epilogue

"Ah, the Post-Fumigation Party," Willow said the next night. They'd decided after a bonding sleepover at Willow's that they needed to party the next day. Sure, they'd come back to the place with the bad memories and bullet holes, but there wasn't a lot of choice in Sunnydale. Somehow, Xander didn't really care. It was just good that he was here with Buffy and Willow. It kept the pain away a little, which was good.

"What's the difference between this party and the last one?" Buffy asked curiously, returning to the table with three coffees.

"Much hardier cockroaches," Xander said cheerfully. "Cheers!"

"Ew," Buffy said flatly. Xander and Willow both snorted into their drinks and Buffy rolled her eyes drolly. She took a sip of her cappuccino and sighed as soft song started playing on the radio, "Let the Sun Fall Down" by Kim Richey. "So…" she said hesitantly. "No word from Angel?"

"No," Xander said, but he smiled to let her know that he was okay with her talking about it. "But…sometimes, I kind of feel like he's still watching me, in his way. It's a little…okay, I guess."

"In a way he is watching you," Willow said, smiling gently. "In that way of he's right over there." She pointed and Xander jerked around, and sure enough, Angel was standing there, in the dark away from the crowd, in a white shirt and black pants, looking too good to die, watching Xander with the strangest expression on his face.

"We're not watching," Buffy told him gently, grabbed Willow, and faced the other way. Xander slowly stood up and hesitantly walked toward Angel, gaining a little confidence when Angel started to walk toward him, meet him halfway. Xander smiled hesitantly up at him and Angel reached out, hesitantly running his fingers over Xander's face, reassuring himself that Xander was alright, and there. Xander sighed at the cool tingles that shot through him at the touch.

"I…just, needed to see that you're okay – and your family," Angel said after an eternity, and Xander thrilled to hear his deep, soothing voice.

"We're okay. They're kind of repressing the whole…uh, guy thing, so it's been pretty quiet. They're okay," Xander said softly, staring into Angel's eyes, Angel staring into his. "How are you?"

"Well, if I can go awhile without being shot or stabbed, I think I'll be alright," Angel said with a gentle smile, and Xander had to chuckle, even though he was dreading Angel's next words. "Look, Xander…this…this can't—"

"Ever be anything, I know," Xander finished for him. He wondered if he could ever see Angel and not feel this reaction to him, and knew somehow that it wasn't likely. "I mean, for one thing you're like 200 years older than me," he quipped weakly. Angel smirked slightly, but his fingers hadn't left Xander's neck.

"I just have to…I have to walk away from this," Angel whispered hoarsely, his face drawn in pain. Xander wondered if his face looked the same.

"Me too," he said softly, but he leaned into Angel's touch all the same. "One of us has to go here," he said after a moment.

And then Angel was tilting Xander's head up and bending down, to that moment where they fit just right, in perfect sync. Angel's lips were gentle but insistent as Xander opened up to him, and Xander couldn't tell if it was pain or joy or some mixture of both that he felt stabbing through his heart when the kiss became deeper, when Angel tasted him and he tasted Angel in turn, drinking him in, keeping the memory with him as deep as he could make it.

They finally separated, Angel slowly licking his lips, keeping Xander's taste with him.

"You okay?" Xander asked again, after a moment.

"It's just…"

"…painful, I know," Xander whispered softly, finishing it for both of them. "See you around?" he suggested hopefully, but he didn't wait to hear Angel's response. Instead he turned and slowly walked away, and he didn't look back, no matter how hard he wanted to.

Behind him, Angel closed his eyes and inhaled Xander's scent, kept Xander's taste with him for the lonely nights ahead, and felt his love for Xander sear itself like a cross deep into his heart, where it would stay next to the hole that Darla had carved. After a moment, Angel opened his eyes, took one last picture of Xander with him, and walked out the door, into the night, where the comforting arms of forgetfulness could take him home.

A/N: Tada! I finally finished and damn did it take fifty pages to do an edited version of this! I am filled with worshipful admiration for any TV screenwriter who manages to stuff so much into a 45 minute long segment!

The title for this chapter is "Let the Sun Fall Down," which is the song by Kim Richey at the end. Now, I'd like to point out that in the actual episode the song playing is "I'll Remember You" by Sophie Zelmani, but the song wasn't really inspiring me, and as Xander is a country fan and I love Kim Richey and it's such a beautiful song and more reminiscent of the angst that I have in my version of this, it fit better.

For those of you wondering, "Let the Sun Fall Down" was featured in Buffy season one, in the episode "Never Kill a Boy on the First Date."

Well, I hope you guys liked this, because I enjoyed writing it. Not saying that I'll ever return to this little AU thing I set up here, but it was fun and I enjoyed it, so you never know. Again I'd like to say that the original episode of "Angel" was written by David Greenwalt, and any of the direct lines from the episode are copyrighted by him and all the Mutant Enemy people. No money is being made off of this and no copyright infringement is intended.

Happy holidays to everyone and give the gift of feedback!