Part 14

Angel's Apartment

Silence reigned after Angel dropped his bombshell. He had to consider that a good thing. At least Faith hadn't gotten up and run out of the room, which was pretty much what he had expected. He wanted to speak again, to reassure her or something, anything, but he couldn't. She had to take this into her own hands. It had to be her decision.

"Angel, I..." Faith started to speak, but she didn't look up at him.

"What?" Angel allowed himself to ask after she felt silent again. He reached out to her. Laying a finger against her chin, he guided her face so that she had to look him in the eye.

"I love you, too." She said it all in a rush, and then stopped, as if unable to believe she'd actually said that.

He couldn't kiss her and say everything would be all right. Not yet. Not until she dealt with the rest of it.

"But, is love enough, Faith?"

"I... I'm not sure." She took a deep breath. "Munchkins and a white picket fence, that's wicked boring. I want thrills and excitement. I want to be in the moment. I don't think about the future. I don't wanna plan the next five minutes, let alone the rest of my life. Aidan's got me back in school. He thinks I should go to college and plan for a career. He won't believe that none of that is me. All I wanna do is work for the Council, clearing out the bad guys right and left. I ain't no Slayer, but I'm the next best thing. I've got more vampire kills than any other special operative."

"Where does that leave us?" Angel asked quietly. "Do you want to kill me?"

"No!" Faith paused and lowered her voice. "No. When I think about the future... the future that I don't want to think about... I can see you there. I can see us fighting side-by-side. Council rules be damned. We could work together. I don't... I don't want to be without you, Angel, but that's all I can say right now. I don't know about next week or next month or next year, and I don't care. But, I know that I want you." She shrugged defensively. "That's all I can give you. If it ain't enough, maybe I'm the one who'd better let you go."

A smile broke out on Angel's normally somber face. "Don't do that. You said exactly what I wanted to hear." His mind started to spin. Visions of him and Faith traveling, seeking out the evil and destroying it. She was human, but she could take care of herself. She was the first human, since Xander, that Angel thought that about.

"You ever think about leaving Sunnydale?"

Angel looked at Faith in surprise. "I thought you didn't like to plan ahead."

She rolled her eyes at him. "Not a plan, an idea. There's a big diff."

"If you say so." Angel suppressed laughter and let her continue, trying not to think about how close she hit on his exact thoughts.

"Anyway, what about you and me goin' somewhere else. Some place where we don't know anyone. The others can handle things here. We could go on special ops. Rio was the only thing keeping me here, and I think he's pretty much got the rehabilitation and restitution thing covered."

"I think that's a brilliant idea!" Angel said, then he leaned in to give her a kiss. The light kiss quickly flamed into passion, but this was new, different, no holds barred. For the first time since he and Faith had started down this road, Angel didn't have to feel guilty. He wasn't keeping her from something better. And he wasn't using her. He loved her, and she loved him. He couldn't believe it, and he didn't know if he deserved it, but he wasn't about to let it go!

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The Library

Though he'd encouraged the kids to go home and rest, Giles couldn't bring himself to follow his own advice. He sat in his private office within the library with a cup of tea next to him and a book about astral projection open in front of him. He'd gotten about halfway through the volume when the phone rang. Giles picked it up quickly.

"Hello?"

"It's started. I thought you told your friend to delay them."

Giles closed his eyes for a minute. Just what they didn't need to deal with, on top of everything else!

"I did," Giles said after collecting himself. "Apparently, Faith and whomever she is working for now, if our suspicions are correct, weren't willing to wait."

"I can't talk long," Angel said. "I managed to lose Faith, but she'll find me again. She has to see if her plan worked."

"Yes. You must be careful, Angel. We don't know what Faith is doing, or what her plan entails. You have to be convincing. Buffy wanted you to do... whatever it takes to find out the truth."

"What about Buffy? The new one?" Angel asked. "Are we going to tell her? If Faith goes after her, and you know that she will - why else bring back Angelus - Buffy will have to play her part."

"I'll tell her all she needs to know," Giles replied. "Can you keep Faith occupied tonight? I would prefer to let her have one night of rest."

"Don't worry," Angel said wryly. "I think I can take care of it until sunrise, and then Faith will have to wait until sunset before she can take her new pet out for a walk."

"That's all the time I need."

Before Giles could say anything else, Angel hissed, "She's close." Then he hung up.

Giles hung up the phone and sat still for a moment. He took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. Why had it happened now? What was so crucial that his friend couldn't delay the plan? Apparently, they would find out soon enough. While Giles loathed to trust Angel again, for any reason, Buffy trusted him. Their Buffy. So Giles had gone along with it, albeit reluctantly. And now, without Buffy, Giles just hoped the plan yielded the same results.

"Mr. Giles?"

Giles turned and saw Wesley standing in the doorway. He had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. "Yes?"

Wesley strode into the room as if he owned the place. Glaring at Giles, Wesley said, "That shopkeeper in Sacramento had never heard of the volume you mentioned. I suspect something is going on here that I do not know about."

Hiding a smirk beneath well-timed sip of tea, Giles swallowed and then said, "I don't know what you're talking about. I heard from a reliable source that shopkeeper had the volume. And that Slayer lore, and any relevant prophecies, would have done us good with these worries about Faith and her rehabilitation. However, you neglect to remember that I did not tell you about the volume. You overheard me talking about it on the telephone and insisted on going after it yourself."

Of course, Giles had been talking to Willow on the phone, not the shopkeeper, as part of a plan to get Wesley out of the way for at least a day while they figured out what to do about the Buffy problem. Luckily, Wesley had fallen for the bait. Wesley was so predictable, and would never want such an important volume in the hands of someone fired by the Council. Unluckily, the ruse hadn't kept him away long enough.

Before Wesley could puff up like an angry chicken, Giles said, "But, let's let bygones be bygones, shall we?"

"Er... yes." Wesley had been distracted by something on the desk. His head was cocked so he could see the title of the book Giles had been reading. "Studying up on astral projection? Why?"

Giles shut the book, put it in his briefcase, turned off his desk lamp, and stood up. "Just a little light reading. Always an interest of mine."

Wesley frowned and seemed about to start another barrage of questions. Giles stopped him by practically pushing him out the door. "Time to head home and get a little sleep, old chap. Dawn comes early these days."

With that, Giles headed out of the library, hoping against hope that he could find the answer to the Buffy switch before a) Wesley found out and b) the plan to find out the truth about Faith got much further under way.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The Streets of Sunnydale

Buffy found a crumb of satisfaction in leaving Aidan and the others to stew in their own juices and slamming the door behind her. But only a crumb. She couldn't get the thought of Angel kissing that imposter out of her mind!

She began to run, trying to put that behind her. She ran past Oz's van without stopping to wonder why it was there. Her legs pumped and sweat began to trickle down her back and her neck. But, no matter how fast she ran, she couldn't get the image out of her mind. Salty tears mingled with beads of sweat on her face.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Elsewhere on the Streets

Two ferals swarmed on Xander at the same time. Their mistress and her favorite pet stood back and watched avidly.

Xander reached for the sheaths under his arms and pulled out two knives. Their blades glinted silvery in the moonlight. When the ferals leapt for him, he kicked the first one, sending it sprawling to the ground. In a move fluid after much practice, Xander twisted in the air and landed on his feet. As soon as his feet hit the ground, he slashed out with both knives. One raked across the other feral's face, the other slid into its chest and stuck there.

"Monique!" the mistress screamed as the second feral went down. "Jaques, help her, darling."

Down to one knife, Xander pulled a stake out of one of the inner pockets of his jacket. The first feral had regained its footing by now and began to charge. Xander planted his feet evenly in a fighting stance, and as soon as the feral was in range, he attacked. He spun out with another kick, followed by several thrusts with the knife. The knife caught on the feral's clothes and ripped them, but didn't draw blood. The feral growled and batted the knife out of Xander's hand.

Several feet away, Jaques had pulled the other knife free from Monique's chest, and thrown it aside. Monique's chest wound was healing rapidly.

"Good boy," the mistress called, and Jaques went running back to her side.

Xander continued to tangle with the first feral. It was stronger than he was, but Xander had the advantage of not being mentally deficient and martial arts training. The feral tried to overpower Xander with supernatural strength alone. With normal humans, this tactic would work. But Xander kneed the creature in the stomach, and pulled out of it's grasp. Then, while the creature was still confused, Xander plunged the stake through its heart. It exploded into dust.

A growl from behind caught Xander's attention. He spun. Monique was alive and well again, and hungry for more than just revenge.

Xander calculated the distance between them, then turned and ran the other way.

The mistress's laugh echoed around him.

If he'd had breath to spare, Xander would have told her not to laugh so soon. But fighting ferals alone was draining his strength rapidly. One of the cardinal rules of being a normal human, as opposed to a Slayer, and trying to fight the demons was that the demons were stronger. Xander had to rely on tricks. The longer the demon drew out the fight, the more likely the demon could take him. It was Xander's job not to let that happen.

A few feet away, a large oak tree grew, its branches overhanging the sidewalk. Xander leapt and managed to grab one of the branches. He locked his arms around the limb and hung there. The feral paused, and then decided that she could attack him just as well hanging as standing, and began building up her speed again. Xander slowly began to throw his weight back and forth, building up momentum of his own. When Monique sprang, Xander swung his legs out of her way, then he dropped onto her back. She hit the ground, cushioning his fall. Before she could move, Xander plunged his stake into her heart through the back.

Brushing feral vampire dust off of his leather jacket, Xander stood up and looked back toward the mistress and her favorite pet. "You're gonna have to fish for some other bait, honey."

The mistress looked angry. She didn't laugh this time. "No. I'm not." She pulled a small, silver bell from the folds of her dress and rang it.

Ferals began to creep up all around them. Counting quickly, Xander saw at least five, maybe more.

He was tired, sore, and he'd lost his favorite two knives.

"Buffy wouldn't come for me anyway," Xander told the mistress, as he tried to pinpoint the position of all her little pets. "She doesn't care what happens to me."

This time, the mistress did laugh, but she didn't answer him. Instead she spoke to the ferals. "Hurt him as much as you want, my children. Then take him back to the lair. Jaques and I have business elsewhere."

Xander wanted to know what she meant by that. Whatever it was, it couldn't be good. But he didn't have time to ask before the first of the new batch of ferals was upon him.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Xander's House

After Buffy left, his house seemed cold and unappealing. Xander opened the front door as quietly as possible. The TV was on in the living room. With any luck, his dad was passed out in front of the boob tube.

Xander headed for the stairs with the silent footsteps of someone who spent many years trying to be invisible in his own house. He knew where the broken floorboards were and which stairs creaked. He made it as far as the upstairs landing.

The bathroom door swung open as Xander was creeping by.

"What the hell are you doing coming home at this hour?" his father bellowed angrily. He stood there glaring at Xander, not even bothering to finish buttoning his pants.

"I was out with Buffy," Xander answered defiantly.

"Your Ma was cryin' all night. All you ever do is spend time with those friends of yours. We're your parents. You owe us some respect! And respect ain't comin' in at one in the morning after sleazing around town with some trouble-making blonde."

"Buffy isn't a trouble maker!" Xander exclaimed. He regretted his quick tongue when his dad got that look in his eyes.

"I know about that girl. She was wanted for murder."

"They cleared her of those charges!"

"Where there's smoke, there's fire, I always say. And that ain't the only weird thing about her."

"Like you'd know anything," Xander muttered under his breath.

In a quick move for someone so large, his father reached out and backhanded Xander across the face with a meaty fist. "That'll teach you to back talk your father!"

Xander didn't move, though pain flared along his cheekbone. [Invisible] he told himself. Saying anything would only make it worse. Violence sated, Xander's dad turned and lumbered back down the stairs. Xander knew he was lucky. There must be something good on TV that his dad didn't want to miss.

When he was alone, Xander went into his room and shut the door quietly. He sat down on his bed and stared at the door. He heard light footsteps outside.

"Xander?" his mother called.

"I'm fine, Mom," Xander replied. "Leave me alone."

Not one to disobey, he heard her footsteps retreat back toward the bedroom she shared with her husband.

Xander sat in the dark for a few minutes, then he stood and walked over to his window. He looked out over the neighborhood, lit only by streetlights and a silvery half-moon.

[My couch is your couch.]

When things got bad, he used to go spend the night at Willow's. Since Oz came into the picture, that had kinda changed. Especially after the whole formal wear = illicit smoochies thing. Not that Willow wouldn't let him stay... Xander just felt weird asking. And she never offered anymore.

He grabbed his backpack and threw a change of clothes on top of his school books. Then he opened his window. With the ease of much practice, Xander dropped off the roof and slunk around the side of the house. He got to the sidewalk unnoticed. They probably would never know he was gone. There wouldn't be any reason to unless his dad got the urge to pound him some more.

Conscious of the looming darkness and what else could be creeping around out in the night, Xander began to jog toward the one place he felt comfortable seeking solace.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Angel's Apartment

Their loving was like nothing they had ever experienced before. Angel kept things slow, and Faith let him. They worshiped each other with their eyes and their lips. Angel gloried in the feel of her skin and the knowledge that she did, indeed, love him. It seemed so unreal. The part of him that had never believed he could ever have or deserve love was silent in shock.

He nibbled her neck and Faith moaned with pleasure. Her fingernails raked up his back as he lowered himself on top of her, and his eyes closed involuntarily, letting him live in the moment and experience it to the fullest extent possible.

Neither one of them heard the door to the apartment open...

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Buffy's House

"Is that you, sweetie?"

Buffy closed the door and followed the sound of her mother's voice into the living room. Joyce sat on the couch, a blanket over her legs and a book in her lap.

"It's me."

Joyce closed the book. "How are you doing? You look better."

"I feel better. It was good to do my job."

"Kill anything?" Joyce grimaced. "Never mind. I don't want to know." She smiled. "How about some hot chocolate?"

Buffy nodded. "That would be nice."

They went into the kitchen, and, as Joyce made them two mugs of Swiss Miss, Buffy could almost imagine that she was where she belonged. This, at least, was fully familiar.

The mother and daughter had just finished their hot beverages when someone rang the doorbell.

Joyce started to rise, but Buffy stopped her. "I'll get it."

"It's a bit late for visitors, isn't it?"

Buffy didn't answer, but silently she agreed. Visitors this late usually meant trouble, in one way or another. She had a stake stuck in her waistband from patrol. She eased it out into her hand, careful to keep that hand hidden behind the door as she opened it.

She pulled the door open and found Xander standing there, backpack in hand, a bruise spreading over his left cheek.

"Oh, Xander!" she cried. The stake fell to the floor, forgotten, as she pulled him into the house and into her arms. "I hate him," she whispered angrily. "Say the word, and he'll never bother you again."

Xander didn't say anything. He just accepted her caring greedily, not many people knew the truth. Not even Willow, unless she'd figured it out and never told him. Every moment in Buffy's arms seemed to erase a moment of slight, a moment of battering, a moment of pain. The Xander in her dimension was one lucky guy!

Finally, Xander stepped back, and Buffy let him go. She looked at him with a mix of emotions on her face.

"So... can I take you up on the offer of your couch?"

Buffy nodded and pointed into the living room. "Go get comfortable. I'll tell Mom."

"You won't tell her everything, right?"

"Not if you don't want me to."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Angel's Apartment

Turning the doorknob to Angel's apartment felt, to Buffy, like opening a door back to another time. A time before a moment of pure happiness with her led to Angel losing his soul and her losing her lover forever. She still loved Angel, and he still loved her, but knowing they could never have a future... it made the years to come look so bleak and hopeless, though they were trying so hard to make it work anyway. She and Angel couldn't even kiss much anymore for fear of going too far. This apartment harkened back to the days of relative innocence, before they knew about the curse, before they knew they wouldn't have a future... It was, and always had been, the perfect place for Buffy to hide, to regroup. And after what had happened tonight, Buffy very much needed a place to regroup.

The door swung open on silent hinges. Buffy froze in place. For an instant, she told herself that the noises were just Angel snoring or something. She'd never heard him snore, but this *was* an alternate dimension.

Her eyes were drawn irrevocably to the bed. It was Angel, all right, but he wasn't alone. She caught a glimpse of a tangle of dark brown hair and a familiar profile. Faith! Angel was having sex with Faith?

Buffy couldn't handle it. Tears sprang to her eyes and her throat threatened to close up. She tried to say something, to demand what the hell he was thinking risking his soul for a lying slut like Faith... But she couldn't make a sound. It was physically impossible. Her chest hurt and she couldn't breathe.

She turned and began climbing the stairs to get back to ground level. Her feet moved faster and faster as she tried to outrun another image of Angel with someone else, this time someone who was probably her enemy in at least one dimension. She couldn't even form coherent thoughts. All she could see was Angel in bed with Faith, over and over in Technicolor.

Buffy ran, again, as fast as her borrowed, scarred legs could take her.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Faith's Apartment

Sultry music with a hard, base beat filled the room. Faith stood near the stereo, her hands resting on the top of it. She began to sway seductively to the beat. For a moment, she let the music sweep her away. Dancing and music could invade her body and take over. Soon, there was no more Faith. Just the music. Just the rhythm and the flow of her body.

Angel lounged on Faith's bed, polishing a knife until its blade gleamed.

"I hate a clean knife." He inspected the knife with a thoughtful air. "It really needs a good coating of blood to bring out it's natural beauty."

His words broke through Faith's music haze. Her lips curled up in an eager smile. Angelus was even more fun than she anticipated. Sure, there was the danger that he might plunge that blade into her heart... or try to, at any rate. But, the danger just made it all the more fun.

"We can do something about that."

"Like what?"

She swayed closer to the bed, keeping in time with the booming base, twitching her hips rhythmically. She arched her back with pleasure when she noticed his eyes linger on her hips appreciatively.

"There's a slayer out there who really needs some of your love and attention."

Angel rolled his eyes. "Been there. Done that. Over it."

Faith pouted. "You aren't aching to see that B gets hers?"

"Not really." Angel flipped the knife lazily in the air and caught it by the hilt. "Sure, it'd be great if someone tortured and offed the bitch, but why should I bother? I can be off the continent in hours. Before poor, little Buffy knows what happened, I'll be back on some of my old stomping grounds. The Hellmouth's not going to let up any time soon, so I'll have it made. All of Europe as my slayer-less playground."

"You should care because I want you to." Her pout morphed into a frown.

"And why should I care about what you want?" He flipped the knife again. It's blade reflected the lights in the room like twinkling jewels.

Faith stopped moving, stopped paying attention to the music. "Because I'm the one who brought you back. Me and..."

"You and who?"

She shook her head. Her voice took on that teasing quality again. "You'll find out soon enough."

Angel flipped the knife again. Faith reached out and snatched it from midair. Seconds later, she straddled Angel on the bed and held the knife at his throat. "You don't want to make me sorry that I brought you back, do you?"

"So, as repayment, I'm supposed to help you take care of Buffy."

In spite of herself, Faith was impressed at his calmness. With a knife this big, she could slice his throat, and probably decapitate him before he could heal enough to fight her. And yet he just lay there, talking, like nothing was wrong. "That's it."

He thought for a moment. "I'll make you a deal. Introduce me to your master, and then I'll help you with Buffy. I like to know who I'm working for."

Faith nodded. "Agreed." She moved the life and began to slide her legs over him so she could get off the bed. "He's probably still at the office."

But, before she could get off the bed, his hand shot out and grabbed her wrist.

"What's the rush?" He grinned, and then growled provocatively.

Shivers ran down Faith's spine. Buffy might've had Angel, but never like this. It was too good to pass up. She leaned down and pressed her lips to his. The mayor could wait a while.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The Streets

The mistress was long gone, leaving Xander surrounded by a pack of ferals. He clutched his stake, and tried to plot a logical plan of attack. He stopped that when he realized that, considering the odds, the logical outcome of this fight would be him as feral food. Xander wasn't going to let that happen.

Two ferals rushed him at the same time. Xander kicked out at one, and punched the other in a complicated double move. He hit the ground and crouched, looking for the next attack. A female feral rushed him. He slammed an uppercut into her jaw and plunged his stake into her chest. She flew to dust around him. But dusting her didn't seem to limit his number of opponents. He could count six. More now than before he'd dusted her. Who knew how many more lurked in the shadows?

One charged him from behind. Luckily, he heard the scrape of its feet against the asphalt. Xander turned and kicked it with all his strength. The feral flew back and hit a nearby tree. Xander heard its head crack against the trunk. The feral began to keen in pain. But he couldn't stop to think about it. The two he'd downed earlier were advancing, as well as a couple of new ones.

A block away, the keening of the injured feral penetrated Buffy's ears, blowing past the picture of Angel and Faith in bed together. Her gut told her something unnatural made that noise. She began to track the sound. Oh, how Buffy longed for something to punch. She pulled a stake out from where she liked to keep one stashed, tucked in her waistband at the small of her back.

When Buffy arrived on the scene, she stopped in amazement for a moment. Four ferals were attacking Xander at once. And he wasn't dead! She'd seen Xander fight, but usually in a bumbling, ineffectual way. Now he moved with precision and grace. He'd obviously had martial arts training. His moves were fluid and accurate. He threw one feral off only to face two more. Every so often, a feral would explode into dust at the end of Xander's stake. Buffy was spellbound by this new version of her happy-go-lucky friend. This version of Xander had more in common with Angel than with his counterpart in her dimension.

But, despite his additional training, Xander was still human. His hits lacked the punch of a slayer or a vampire. The ferals didn't fly as far or stay down as long, especially as the battle progressed. Xander was getting tired. And that, eventually, led to a mistake. And in such a fight, one mistake could be fatal. And the ferals were getting tired of this game.

Eventually, the numbers began to overwhelm him. Two ferals attacked him from the front, while two others managed to pin his arms from behind.

"You won't take me to your mistress alive," Xander threatened. A male feral just hissed in pleasure and aimed his fangs for Xander's throat.

Buffy flew into action. She charged into the group, stake flying. She managed to dust five of the creatures before the ones holding Xander captive knew what was going on. Buffy's entrance gave Xander the moment of distraction he needed. He was able to fight free of the ferals who pinned his arms, and he staked one of them.

"Watch out!" he yelled at Buffy.

She turned and saw two ferals bearing down on her. Her kicks and punches rained quickly. No feral touched her that didn't get dusted. Xander dusted several more, as well. He turned from the last one to find Buffy straddling one last feral, punching it over and over in the face.

Slowly, he made his way to her side, only now able to give in to the pain he felt where a feral had gouged his knee. He favored his left leg slightly. Blood seeped from the wound, discoloring his pants.

"Buffy."

She didn't stop.

"Buffy!" This time he grabbed her shoulder. He didn't know what was wrong. Maybe this was just her way of making the undead pay, but for some reason he doubted it. This seemed more like the release of pain or stress or... something.

Buffy stopped pummeling the creature and staked it. Xander helped her to her feet.

"You OK?" he asked her.

She couldn't stop a wry smile. "I should be asking you that. I wasn't the one fighting a mob of those things for who knows how long." Her gaze traveled down his bruised face to the wound on his knee. "Are you OK?"

"I'll be fine. But, I wasn't asking you if you were physically OK. I..." He paused for a second, unsure whether to continue. This Buffy never seemed to care about his opinions very much. But, he finished the thought anyway. "...I wondered what else was bugging you."

Buffy couldn't stop the pictures in her head. Faith. Angel. Bed. She shivered. Xander reached down and touched her chin, gently forcing her to look him in the eye. She did so, and saw the warmth and compassion radiating from his brown eyes. And more... she could see the love there. Even if it wasn't for her, but for the girl who usually lived in this body... it still felt... nice.

Without stopping to think, Buffy raised herself up to her toes and pressed her lips to his. In the back of her mind was the ghost of a thought [Faith can have him]. Feeling anything... having anything to concentrate on other than Angel and Faith was bliss.

Neither of the teenagers noticed the one last, hiding feral sneak away to report back to her mistress.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The Back of Oz's Van

"Mmmmmm." Sonya stretched languidly and then nestled her head back on Oz's shoulder. "That was... amazing."

"Mmmm-hmmm," Oz agreed.

With a sigh, Sonya sat up and began, reluctantly, to find her discarded clothing. "I guess we have to go inside, though. Check on the spell to send back psycho-Buffy and everything." A smile softened her face as she looked over at her boyfriend. "I'd rather stay out here with you, though."

Oz buttoned his jeans and pulled his green T-shirt on over his head. As Sonya finished dressing, he knelt and looked inside the picnic basket.

Noticing, Sonya commented, "Lose something?"

"Found something," Oz replied. He held out his right hand to her and pulled her back over to the blankets and pillows.

Sonya came willingly. "What are you talking about?"

When she was sitting, Oz sat cross-legged, facing her, his left had clenched in his lap. "You."

Her heart began to beat a little faster in response to the intense look in his eyes. Oz didn't say anything else. He just opened his clenched fist to reveal a small, black velvet box. He gently placed the box in her hand. Her hand trembled. She opened it. Inside, on a bed of blue velvet, was a sparkling, diamond ring. As far as diamonds went, it wasn't very big. But it was the biggest one Sonya had ever had the option of owning. She looked up at him, tongue tied.

Oz looked straight into her eyes, leaving no doubt of his sincerity. "Marry me?"

She looked back at the diamond, thoughts flashing through her mind at the speed of light. She'd always assumed she would never do the marriage thing. Of course, for a long time she thought she'd never do the boyfriend thing, either. They were so young. Didn't most high school marriages end in divorce? And what if the magic that allowed her to walk, that allowed her to feel anything below the waist, vanished someday? Would he be able to life with half a person? Would it even be fair to ask him to? But... she loved him.

"You're my dream come true. No one else," Oz told her. Then, as if he'd read her mind, he added, "We can wait until after graduation, or whenever you're ready. I love you. No matter what." He looked straight into her eyes. "Even in a wheelchair."

When he said that, all her doubts vanished for the moment, and she knew what she wanted to do more. Sonya hurled herself into Oz's arms and cried, "I would love to marry you, Oz!"

He let out a huge sigh of relief and hugged her back with all his strength.

In response to that sigh, Sonya asked, "Did you think I'd say no?"

"Possible." He caressed her cheek and then tapped her temple. "A lot goes on up there." Then he slid the ring on her finger, and they both admired it in the glow of the Christmas lights strung across the van's ceiling. There was a little more kissing, too, but soon the lovers had to come back down to Earth.

"I guess we should..." Oz nodded toward the house.

"Yeah."

Sonya opened the van's sliding door and stepped out onto the street. "C'mon," she challenged him. "Last one in is..."

"Dinner?"

Hands, tiny but strong, clamped down onto Sonya's shoulders. She tried to fight, but the grip held firm. Fangs sunk into her neck with a sharp pain and she felt her life force being sucked away...

Oz rolled out of the van and right into Sonya and the feral queen. He pushed them onto the grass, breaking the vampire's hold on his fiancée. Then something else barreled straight into Oz. A snarling feral. Oz slammed his arms up and into the thing's chest. He managed to surprise it and get it off of him for a moment.

"Uh-uh."

He turned to face the ethereally beautiful vampire. She held an unconscious Sonya in her grasp. Blood soaked one side of her neck and the collar of her shirt.

"What do you want?" Oz asked. Behind him, the feral, Jaques, rose to all fours and snarled at Oz. But Jaques kept his distance after a look from his mistress.

"Come with me," she said, "or the girl dies."

Oz looked from Sonya to the house. Could her healing factor heal a broken neck? If he screamed, would the people inside hear him in time?

The vampire obviously knew what he was thinking. "I wouldn't try that, if I were you. I'll be gone before they can get out here. And, if you don't come with me, I'll give her to my pets, like Jaques there, when I get her home."

Jaques butted the back of Oz's legs. Two vampires against one human with Sonya's life on the line. Them weren't good odds.

"I'll come," Oz told her.

Her laugh tinkled through the night. "Good boy."