Identical Entity

Rating- R, but probably only swearing and violence and stuff like that.

Summary- AU; They are the same person but couldn’t be more different (and no, I’m not talking about Angel/Angelus)

Feedback- Wanted and needed. Send to XxAngelicVixenxX or RougeVixen.

Disclaimer- Do I look like an acid tripping evil genius? No. Besides, even if I *did* own them, both are screwed beyond fixing. BtVS & AtS belongs to Joss and co., there, happy now? I said it!

Spoilers- Um, ok this is a toughie. Let' say, 'The Gift' and, y'know, just BtVS in general, maybe more later?

Distribution- LoD, Nicky’s site, um, where else…? The site ‘How’s Forever’, I lost the addie… um, KickDress-if Jenn wants it. I think that’s it. Ask, and ye shall receive.

Pairings- B/A (though later on in the fic), B/Wesley (in a friendly, flirty aww-ish kinda way)
maybe more later…

Author’s Notes- Yes, another fic. Yes, I’m still writing ‘Chosen Mistake’ Yes, I still
have writer’s block for ‘Blood, Beauty. & Betrayal’ and ‘Beneath the Ashes’. I try to
write them, but I just don’t know what to do! Lol, ok. I don’t want to give too much away
on this fic. So…I won’t. ;) But, ok, Doyle's not dead, Wes never went back to LA after the
acension, , oh and Gwendalyn Post; she never died, AU fr the most part Buffy did die in
season 5 fighting Glory.

Back-story- Buffy Anne Summers died the summer of 2001 after she saved the world from the Hell-Goddess, Glory. She has been dead for more than five years. After the death of one of their most powerful Slayers, The Watcher’s Council used their remaining power to play God, something you should never do. There will be consequences to their unlawful actions. Those consequences come in shape of a girl, a girl who could change the whole world.

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Identical- (of two or more things) the very same in all respects; the very same.

Entity- something existing complete in itself, by its own right; something that exists alone.

Prologue

November 2006

Undisclosed Location, London, England

I have a problem. I don’t know who I am. I don’t have a name, an identity. I don’t have a past, a family, or a home. I don’t remember growing up, being a little girl. I don’t remember having Mommy hug me or Daddy tell me I’ll always be his baby girl. I don’t remember comfy covers and fluffy stuffed animals. I don’t know what it’s like to have my Mommy read me a story and be awash in her soft scented perfume. Or have Daddy swing me around his shoulders and finish it off with a warm hug. I don’t remember little sisters grabbing my clothes, and playing dress up with me. Or having little brothers taking my Barbie’s and hiding them.

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November 2006

Undisclosed Location, London, England

Footsteps. They're coming. I take a deep breath and get ready for whatever they want me to do today. I close the shades to my barred window and sit on my hard mattress bed with one limp pillow and wilted white sheets. I clasp my hands together so tightly that my small knuckles turn white as the blood flows away from the pressure. I bow my head so my long hair falls across my face and stare at the white tiled floor. I think back and remember the deep crimson that had briefly stained the tiles. I remember how transfixed by the fact that my blood was spilt on the floor. I wanted it to stay. For the deep inviting color to stay and bend my world of cold whiteness.

The footfalls echo through the long hall as they draw closer. They'll be here soon. My stomach clenches and I feel the familiar swish of sour bile rising and burning the tender inner skin of my throat. I stand up calmly and walk to my pallid bathroom. It has a small sink, a stand-up shower, and a porcelain toilet. I fall to my knees and vomit what little my insides hold. I recognize it as the little plate of eggs and a roll I had for breakfast. The mere thought of it makes my insides heave again. I imagine Mommy holding my hair back and whispering comforting murmurs in my ear. Telling me it will be alright. That she'll bring me lemon tea and a plate of crackers when it's over. I imagine leaning over and crying into her soft shoulder and her holding me tighter. Her soft sandy-blonde curls brushing againstmypale skin and smelling the faint smell of her hairspray. I close my eyes against the real teas that start to fall. I pick myself up, wash my mouth with the cool water, and walk back out and sit on my bed.

They're just at the door now. The slide the keys into the locks with a small scraping sound and walk into the room. I look up at them blankly. "Time to go," One says.

His name is Warren. I don't like him. I stand up and brush past them. They both grab my elbows and lead me to the room which I could find in my sleep.

"Get in," Another says.

His name is Parker.

I don't like the way he looks at me. Like I'm meat, something he wants to devour. It scares me. I avert my eyes and walk in with my head down. I hear the soft murmurs of the doctors quiet and I slowly look up. They're all gazing at me as if I've grown horns, but I'm sued to it. It's how it is everyday. I come in, they stare, they leave, someone comes in, asks me questions, and then I go in for some 'tests'. I take a seat on the dull, ash colored chair and wait for Gwendolyn Post to enter the room. She's always inquiring things about me and making notes on that wretched chart she always carries around.

"Good morning," She greets me with a small smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes.

"Hello," I say back, twisting my fingers together.

"How are you?" She asks.

"Fine," I say in a tight, clipped voice.

'Have you been feeling sick? Nauseous?" She presses on.

I won't tell her about my little conversation with my toilet, "I've bee´n feeling fine."

"Good. Good. Very well then." She pauses, gazing at me with her dull, unfeeling brown eyes, "What about your dreams? Have you had anymore?"

I pause and look up, asking myself if I should tell her... Fine, what will it hurt?

"Yes. I dreamt of dying," I say, my voice dull.

"What do you mean?" She asks, her pencil poised.

There was a bright light, a haze of purple-white power. I could feel-hear-it humming within me. I remember running towards it for pausing for a millisecond to stare at its dangerous beauty. I could have stared at it forever, but I didn't. There was something I had to do, something of utter importance. But, I don't know what it is. All I can remember is throwing myself off of whatever I'm standing on and rushing into the bright light. And the pain, oh, the horrible pain. If I think hard, I can still feel the electric burn on my skin. I can feel this haze stealing my energy, my life, away from me. In my dream, I think what I feel is...relief. But, why?

I shake my head and say, "I don't remember details, I just remember that I died."

"How?" Ms. Post pushes me.

"Did I stutter? I told you don't remember it," I snap, my hazy green eyes flashing.

She looks taken aback for a small second and I think I see fear in my eyes. Fear...of me! I shake my head a small smirk on my face that's wiped off when I turn back toward her.

"Are we done?" I asked tiredly.

"Of course," She says, nodding to herself.

The doctors come back in and lead me to the back room, where they do the 'tests'.

"Good morning." An older man greets me, his voice sounding like he swallowed a frog with its voice box cut out. There are other people who stand with him. A taller man, his name is Wesley, with glasses and thick brown hair. He's the only one I trust here, in this hell. He has soft bluish eyes and a pleasant but friendly smile that he warmly gives me. I nod and smile back to him. A women, along with Ms. Post, stands behind the men. The other woman is colored, her thick hair braided and tucked in clips behind her head. Her name is Olivia. I'm not sure what to think of her. She looks at me with wise eyes, as if she knows me. She regards me carefully, her eyes always watching, her lips pulled back into a think smile. But, the one I despise, the one who greets me everyday with the frog sounding, "Good Morning", I cannot stand him. He gets sick pleasure from watching me go through the painful, tiring tests. I smile tightly, letting my displeasure showing through my voice, "Good Morning, Quentin."

*

Quentin Travers. The head of whatever they're doing to me. Yet another thing I don't know. Why and what exactly they're doing to me. I sigh and stay where I'm standing, watching them as they break their small clump and rush around the room, preparing the table, and getting the machinery. I closed my eyes against the wash of old fear that pounded through my senses. Inside my closed lids, I could see every fear and wish I have. My fear to stay here. My wish to be free. My fear of not knowing who-what-I'm meant to be. I look up and wait for someone to notice me.

Wesley looks up with his gentle eyes and his face warms into a look of concern.

"What is it?" He asks in a soft voice.

"I want to know my name!" I demanded in a quiet but firm voice.

He looks pained and remorseful as he looks at me. Sometimes, I think that when he looks at me, he's seeing someone from his past. Someone...he cared about. Sometimes, he would call to me, start to call me by name. A name of which I don't know. But, he would always compose himself before he spilled the hypothetical beans.

"You know I cannot tell you," He says softly, his accented voice calming me.

I turn my face away so he won't see my burning tears.

He tries to apologize, but I won't have any of it. I block him out and wait for Quentin and Olivia to call me over to the table. They do, so I get up and walk slowly over to them. They direct me to lay down. I do while they stick an IV into me mercilessly. I barely keep myself from crying out, but I do gasp and squeeze my eyes closed. After a few quiet moments, I feel a burning hot sensation flow through my veins. It gets so unbearably hot and I can feel myself sweating. My flesh breaks out with little heat bumps and I find myself struggling to breathe.

"What the bloody hell are you doing?" Wesley asks in a hushed whisper.

"Testing her immune system," Quentin hissed, "I injected a heightened dose of influenza into her body. I want to see how se reacts."

"How much of a heightened dose?" Wesley asked in a harsh voice, "Answer me, Quentin!"

"It's an undiluted sample."

"You bloke! It will kill her!" Wesley yells.

The chills start to take over my body. I can feel that my skin is hot though. I start to shake uncontrollably. My teeth are chattering and I bite my tongue in the process. I can feel the coppery liquid seep into and over my taste buds. As sick as it sounds, the taste of my own blood keeps me grounded, from floating into the dark abyss that will surely give me comfort. Wesley and Quentin keep fighting and I can feel myself slipping away. As much as I try, I can't help but float away, into a restless slumber.

*

When I awake, I'm alone and in my room. Beside my bed is a pail of ice and dripping over my face is a cool wash cloth. I sit up slowly and have to the bathroom barely making it in time before hot bile rushes from my mouth. I cough and gag and slump to the cool tile. I hear my door open and I lift my head.

It's him. It's Parker. He tiptoes into my room and walks around before realizing that I'm not in there. He leans against the doorway, leering at me.

"Hey beautiful," He sneers.

"Go away," I say, my voice blank.

"How 'bout not?" He asks, his grin widening as he saunters into the small room.

He kneels beside me and I do nothing. I close my eyes when he starts to travel his hands into my shirt. I cringe and feel tears spring to my eyes.

"Quit it," I whisper.

He only laughs and straddles me, one hand pinning my wrists above me while the other continues to fondle me.

"Quit!" I scream and he stats to scratch me, laughing all the while.

He crushes his lips to mine with a bruising force.

"You know you want this. You tease me, with you smiles and your eyes. I see how you look at me. You teased me then too." He whispers huskily.

"I didn't! I swear!" I cry.

"You did!" He rasps, his eyes clouded.

I cry out when he lays his whole body weight on top of me. It feels like he's crushing my lungs. I thrash and he only seems to enjoy it more. I knee him hard and he lifts up and slaps me hard.

"Bitch!"

I glare at him and dig my nails into his face, feeling the hot, thick liquid seep out. He shouts and punches me, breaking open my bruised lips. I cry out, tears of pain seeping out. He quickly undoes his pants and climbs on top of me again. I scream as I feel him against me. Oh God! I scream louder and push him. Tears blur my vision as I rear my fist back and punch him square in the nose. Strange strength flows through me and I attack him. He finally pushes me away and glares at me. My vision clears and I see what a mess he is. His nose is broken and seeping dark blood everywhere. His eyes red and threatening to swell.

"Stay away from me," I whisper, tears cloaking my voice.

"No problem, freak. But, this isn't over, mark my word girl, I'll get what I want. I always do, you should know that," He sneers.

That makes me even more confused. What should I know? And what he said earlier...

*You teased me then too.*

What is he talking about? When? Where? What...? I tuck my knees to my chest and start to cry softly. I hate this! I hate being alone, being confused. I want my Mommy. I want her to press kisses to my hair and tell me everything will be alright. I want Daddy to hug me to his big chest and tell me he'll always protect me. But, they're only figment of my mind. Blurred images that are on the tip of my edge of my mind, just faint enough to get a glimpse, but never a clear picture. Argh!

Who am I?!

*

I awoke in the middle of the night with someone poking me. I thought it was a dream so I just rolled on my side, stuffed my pillow over my head and murmured, "Gomay..."

"Pardon me?" A British voice asked.

"Go away," I whined louder than normal.

"Whats wrong?" He asked, gently touching the raw wounds on my face.

I averted my eyes for moment. Should I tell him? What should I tell him? Would he believe me? He would. He's Wes. Your friend, your only friend. He could help you, maybe even get Parker fired. But, what if he didn't believe me?, I wondered.

"Hey," He whispered, gently lifting my chin.

I shook my head, "It's really nothing, Wes. You know me...a total klutz," I stammered, berating myself for acting like a fool.

"Really...?" He asked, his eyes searching.

"No," I said, not wanting to lie to him, he'd find out anyways, "Parker... He came in earlier. He tried to... He tried to...you know. So, he hit me, I hit back. Wes, I broke his nose," I said.

"You did. Did he... Did he force himself upon you?" He asked, her serious eyes probing.

"No. I didn't let him. Wes...how strong am I?" I asked him, remembering how the strength had surged through me like nothing I had ever felt before.

Wes sighs so long and hard that I think it comes from deep within him, from a sorrow buried so deep in his soul that it physically weighs him down.

"There's a lot you don't know. A lot you aren't supposed to know. But, I believe that it's unfair to keep who --what-- you are a secret. You deserve to know who you are and where you come from. You deserve to know everything," He whispers, taking my small hands into his own.

"You'll tell me?" I ask, and hate the way my voice sounds. Like a little girls', full of hope at learning what I yearn to know and sorrow for not already knowing.

"I'll do better than that. I'll show you. But, not now, not tonight. In two days, it will be Saturday and as you know they all leave on the weekends. I'll show you then," He answers.

"Oh!" I squeal, jumping up and wrapping my thin arms around his neck, "Thank you, thank you, thank you, Wes!"

"You're welcome, B-" He stops and I pull back and stare at him, he was about to say my name, I know it. I try and figure out what he was about to say by searching through his sapphire eyes. I couldn't read him. I looked down, then looked up with a smile on my lips, "Thank you, Wes. I really mean it."

He smiled warmly and leaned in to kiss my cheek. A slow smile swell across my lips. My first kiss. Though, it wasn't like I had read about it, the zealous, fervent craze of passion with heat and excitement. But, it was nice. It made me feel...wanted? I could feel the touch of a warm blush spread across my face. I love Wes. I don't know what'd I do without him.

"You're my best friend, you know?" I say quietly.

He looks a bit sad at my words, "And you, mine," He says with a small, sad smile, "Go back to sleep now," He says softly and leads me to my hard, stiff bed. He smoothes my hair back and smiles as the pulls of sleep reclaim me, my last thought, before I give in, one of joy at finally knowing my clouded past.

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Part 2

November 2006

Undisclosed Location, London, England

I slept in late this morning; surprisingly no one woke me up. I suppose it was Wes's doing, letting me sleep because I had been up last night. I took a comfortingly long shower, letting the hot water wash away my fatigue and worries of yesterday. Afterwards, I looked in the small mirror and saw that the bruises and cuts were fading, though they had swollen and made my lips and cheeks a bright purple/reddish color.

I sighed and wondered what Quentin was going to say...probably nothing, he didn't care about me. I shook my head and toweled the droplets of water off of me. I had another dream. I don't really remember the details, but I can remember the feelings I had. I could feel a despair and misery like nothing I had ever felt before. I had felt like I was dying inside and there was nothing I could do. What little I remembered from the dream was a swirling portal and a truly grotesque statue. I remember fighting someone...someone I had cared about very much. And salt, I remember the stinging saltiness of tears streaming down my cheeks, lips, and down my chin. Swords, I can hear the clashing of swords in the back of my mind, if I think hard enough. While I can also hear words that make me want to cry until I die from dehydration.

*Close your eyes.*

I've never said those words, not with the passion and heartache I feel when I think of them. I can't explain why I'm getting these and I'm rather sick of them. I sigh and change into my normal clothes which consist of, you guessed it, white. If I ever get out of here, I will never buy white. No, not even my socks. They will be some outrageous color like hot neon pink or neon yellow. I tie my long, long hair back with a rubber band and sit by my window. I usually look out and dream of a world without 'tests', without white, without loneliness. I want to be able to go where I please and not be alone all the time. My door opens and I know without even looking who it is. Wesley.

"Hey," I greet him, staring out into the dim sunlight that is of London.

"Good Morning," He says and I can hear the smile in his voice.

"Do I have to go?" I asked, my voice coming out shy and almost scared.

"I'm sorry. I know how much you hate this," Wes says, laying his hand on my shoulder.

"Hate, doesn't even begin to describe this. Maybe loathe, or detest. Wes, I've been doing this everyday, same time, same people, for six years. I think they know all they can about me," I said, in a tired voice.

"Those people out there, are insane. They're inhuman and insensitive. Don't turn out like them," He warned, his eyes serious.

I knew what he meant. Thousands of times I had felt the exact way he warned me against. Numb, unfeeling, dead inside. Sometimes, you couldn't help it when you stayed here as long as I had. It just seemed hopeless. What if I never got out? What if I had to stay here forever, seeing the same damn people day after day after day... I'm surprised I hadn't gone mad yet. Maybe I was, and didn't know it. That could very well be... What they did, day after day, would make the normal person try and kill themselves the first week. I'm not normal and even I tried too.

"Are you ok, luv?" Wes asked.

I smiled. He sometimes did that, call me a pet name. Sometimes he called me 'kid', when he was teasing, other times, when he tried to comfort me, he called me 'dear' or sweetie'. It made me happy.

"I'm fine. You know me, my mind's a million times miles away," I waved it off quietly, a small smile gracing my face.

"Sometimes I wonder about you," He chuckled.

I sighed heavily, releasing part of a weighty strain deep within my soul. Wes eyed me and I could just see in his eyes that he thought they were pushing me too hard. A small high pitched beep came from the small radio Wes had attached to his side and I knew they wanted me down there, now.

"Come on," He sighed, taking my hand.

I nodded and closed my eyes as he led me to the room. I trusted him, as I always did. We walked in and I saw Quentin's sadistic smile. Oh God. I knew he was planning something bad. Something I certainly wouldn't like.

"Come now," He demanded.

I reluctantly left the comfort zone that Wes had created for me and followed the man I vowed to hate forever.

We winded down a few halls, one staircase, and entered a large pit-like room. The walls were smooth with no grip or ridges, the walls slanted down to meet the floor in a rounded accumulation. There was a small window way up top, maybe twelve feet up.

"What is this?" I asked, my voice dripping confusion.

"A test," Quentin smirked, in his gravely voice.

"A test of what?" I asked, suspiciously.

"A test of everything, my dear. Strength, endurance, intuition, instinct, stamina, everything that makes you," He answered, his tiny eyes trained on me. I saw something in them, something evil. He wasn't right.

"Get in!" He barked, pushing me into the room.

I stumbled in and fell to my knees. I stood up and looked around me. It was bland looking, all an off gray color, the ceiling going up at least twenty-five feet. I looked into the little window above me and saw Wes and Quentin fighting. Wes looked ready to kill, his eyes blazing and his face turning red. Quentin just said something smugly and Wes stopped, his face looking defeating. He turned and saw me looking up, leering he grabbed a microphone and started to speak.

"As I said before, this is a test. But different than you are used too. This is a life threatening situation, my dear. If you perform the wrong moves, you will die," He said, smirking all the way.

"What is the point of this?" I asked, hating my voice for trembling.

"The point, my dear, is to examination the way you move. The way you fight, to see if you were the same as-"

He was rudely interrupted by Wes's hand clutching his throat.

"Wes, stop!" I screamed, fearing he would do something rash and have to leave, just like Ginny did. Wes seemed to control himself and let go of Quentin, but not without a harsh whisper that made Quentin go white as the walls in my room.

"Good luck," Quentin said, tersely.

He must have pressed something because a door, that hadn't been there before, opened and a man came out. He looked handsome, in a rough sort of way. He had pale features, sandy colored hair, and was wearing black, which made him all that paler. He had amber eyes, which I found strangely hypnotizing. I just stood there as he sauntered closer to me. I could hear Wes screaming something above me, but Quentin must have turned the mic off. The man smiled a slimy, oily smile that made my belly lurch.

Wait a minute...

In seconds, he had me by the neck, his smooth hands squeezing tightly. I gasped as it took me by utter surprise.

"Y'know," He leered, his voice sounding deeply Southern, "I haven't eaten in weeks. Fella gets mighty hungry down in these parts, with them not servin' any food and all..." He drawled slowly, "But ya, yer pretty tiny, but I guess you'll do." He growled.

I turned back slightly and screamed.

His face, oh God, what was wrong with his face?! I moved my head into his nose and they connected with a sickening crack. I could feel his blood seeping into my hair. I scrambled away when he let go, screaming, "Fucking hell!"

I pressed my back against the wall, my chest rising and falling heavily. He snarled, his grotesque features tightening with anger. I whimpered as he came closer, not knowing what to do. I squirmed away when he came to close. He was taking his time, baiting me. Suddenly, he was behind me, grabbing my small wrist with bruising force, yanking me to him. He pressed his deformed mouth to mine, his teeth tearing open old wounds and making new ones. I pushed him away and watched in sick fascination as he flew to the wall behind him, which had to be at least ten feet away. I looked at my hands in shock, I did that?

"Buffy, move!" I heard someone shout.

It was Wes. I looked up and saw him waving at me. I turned and saw the guy running to me, and then I dropped to my knees and rolled. He barreled past me, growling all the way. I ran to the far wall, tears of fear trailing down my cheeks.

"I want out!" I screamed, looking up at the window.

Quentin smirked and Wes was yelling at him.

The guy grabbed me again and I kicked him, square in the chest.

"I don't want to kill you!" I sobbed, not knowing what the bloody hell was going on.

"Then I'll kill ya first," He snarled, licking his blood stained lips.

"No!" I cried, ducking and rolling beneath him. He somehow managed to trip over me and crashed right on top of me. He pinned me down and covered my mouth with his hands, lowering his teeth to my neck. I bit down on his fingers, breaking the skin and tasting droplets of strong, stale blood in my mouth. I gagged as he howled a string of curses at me. I bent my knees to my chest and kicked up, watching as he flew off me. I stood up and watched him wearily. I heard a dull clatter and looked around, seeing a piece of wood rolling on the floor. I hastily grabbed it and wondered what the hell I was supposed to do with it? I whined in fearful frustration. I dodged him and stayed a careful distance away from him. I looked at the wood. It was finely sharpened, the smooth wood ending in a sharp point. I wasn't supposed to... stab him...was I? I-I be killing him then, I'd be a killer. I couldn't...couldn't do that. Not me... He ran at me and I instinctively held the wooden stick up watching as it impaled him in the stomach. He yelled out in pain, his golden eyes flashing.

"Whoops..." I whimpered and pulled it out, wanting to puke at the slurpy suction noise.

"The heart!" Wes screamed over the mic.

Oh God, what side is the heart on?! Um...um, damn it! Left! I stabbed it into him, pushing it deeper.

"Bitch, I'll see you in hell!" He snarled as he crumbled to dust.

Wait a moment, crumbled to dust. People don't crumble to dust. I didn't have time to dwell on it though, because the dust seemed to gravitate into my mouth, making me gag and choke. The taste of it was like soot and death. Shock came over me and I fell to the floor, my eyes widened, and my body fell limp. All I did was stare and at some point I suppose I fell unconscious, because I don't remember going to my room or having anyone talk to me. Because when I finally seemed to snap out of it and wake up, I was tucked into my bed, in my room left alone to dwell in my confusion and fear. Fear of what I really was and what I was capable of.

*

I had fallen asleep again and had no dreams. It was as if my body as well as mind was exhausted and had no strength to even fathom a dream, or nightmare for that matter. But, I wasn't alone when I had awoken. Wes was sitting the chair by my window, reading a book. I peered at the cover and saw he was reading, 'Merrick', by Anne Rice.

"Good book?" I asked.

"Very," He answered, glancing at me, "Vampires, and witches."

"Cool," I said softly.

"Are you alright?" Wes asked, his clear eyes showing he was deeply troubled.

"Confused, scared, cold," I replied, my voice low.

He marked his book and moved over to me, taking a small bowl and washcloth off of my table. He dipped the cloth and dabbed at my face. The water was warm and soothing on my aching bruises upon bruises.

"I'm so sorry," He whispered, his voice full of shame.

"Don't be. Quentin did this, not you," I said.

"But, I didn't do much to stop this, now did I?" He asked, his eyes blazing.

"You were trying. I saw you. If you would have attacked him, he would have made you go away and then I'd be all alone," I said softly.

We were both silent as he switched the washcloth for a small pack of ice. He placed it on my cheek, letting go and letting me hold it.

I had a sudden thought and looked up at my friend, "Wes?" I asked.

"Hmm?" He murmured, again absorbed in his book.

"Do you remember Ginny?" I asked, knowing what a stupid question it was. Of course he remembered her. He loved her. Ginny, well her real name was Virginia, had been here for two years, maybe longer, but I had known her for two years. She had been there ever since I had, um, woken up. She had been so nice. She had talked to me and everything. Had been a true friend. She had always eased my confusion and made me feel safe. She had gotten my to be a bit of a book worm. Every week, when staff was allowed to go into the city, she would bring me a book. She had gotten me obsessed with V.C. Andrews's books. My first one she bought me, being 'Flowers in the Attic', I never ate powered donuts again. She had been like a sister. Explaining everything to me. She was much warmer than Gwendolyn Post, the ice witch of the century. I missed her so much. She had had honey colored hair that curled and spiraled in every direction, comforting hazel eyes, and a warm smile. She had been like an older sister. But, she had tried to tell me something, something I had never understood. Something Quentin disapproved of and she disappeared. The night before the day she had left, she had woken me up late in the night telling me to be careful and watch out who I trust. She had also told me to get out before I turned eighteen. I don't know why she had told me that and I had never asked Wes why. For days, weeks after Ginny had gone; he had been in a strange funk. Never talking, like he did now, and hanging around me like a nervous grizzly bear. He had known something, something that to this day he hadn't told me, and knowing Wes, probably never would. I missed Ginny so much.

"Yes I do," Wes answered softly, snapping me out of my thoughts, "Why do you ask?"

"No reason. I was just thinking about her," I responded, my voice quiet.

"What's the matter?" He asked, leaning foreword a bit.

"I was just thinking of her, you know? I just... I miss her," I stammered, sighing heavily.

"I do too," Wes answered his eyes misty looking.

"I just keep thinking. She left. She left and now all I have is you, what if you leave too?" I asked looking up at him.

His eyes turned serious and he took my hands, "Listen. First off, I love you, very much. I'll always look after you; I would never leave you here alone. Not with these blokes. Always remember that," He said firmly, but a soft undertone of compassion in his voice.

I nodded, softy saying, "I will." But I wondered if I could believe it. What if I was alone for the rest of my life?

Wes was quiet for a few moments, "I suppose you want to know everything now."

"Excuse me?" I asked, peering up at him.

"I yelled your name in that room, I suppose you want to know everything," He sighed.

"You yelled my name?" I asked confusion clear in my voice.

He looked at me for a moment, and then looked utterly relieved, "You didn't hear me," He whispered, more as a revelation to himself than to me.

"I'm sorry," I murmured, thinking back to when I was being attacked.

I could remember exactly what he said. I remember him yelling, but I remember fighting for my life a little bit clearer. I guess supreme panic and sheer terror do things like that to you. I've been waiting forever to hear all the facts and details about myself, how I came to be, and I finally find out a tiny, miraculous piece of information which I forget, do to trying to keep my sorry self alive. Terrific.

"It's quite alright, luv. It will make everything a little bit easier that way," Wes said.

"Easier?" I repeated.

"Yes. That way, I can tell you everything as a whole instead of you knowing only confusing bits an pieces," He answered, getting up and brushing off his pants.

"I'll see you later, there's some business I must attend too," Wes said, smiling and waving as he left my room. And, again I was alone, for now.

*

Gwendolyn Post came to my room later that night. Her eyes were small with disapproval and her lips tightened into a grimace. She walked briskly into the room, her heels clicking dully on the linoleum and her tweed skirt swishing annoyingly.

"What do you want?" I asked her.

Her eyes became squinty and dark, "I'd like to talk to you," She snapped.

"About what?" I asked her, shifting on my chair.

"What happened today? What you did, was wrong. You panicked and let your fear take over hold of your senses. You could have been killed. You didn't follow your instincts, you didn't trust them. You became the risk," She barked.

I could feel anger swelling inside of me. How dare her!

"Let me get this straight. You throw me inside a locked room with this...this thing, and expect me to know what to do!" I cried.

"I expect you to follow your primal instincts," She said.

"My 'instincts' were telling me to run, to get the hell out of there before I got killed," I whispered harshly.

"No it wasn't," She snapped.

"Don't you dare tell me what I was feeling! You don't know what goes on inside me," I said, my voice harsh.

That's when she started to laugh. A deep, sinister, cackle of a laugh. Her eyes actually teared and her face tightened with what looked to be a triumphant, devious gleam.

"Oh yes, I do know what goes on inside of you. We made you, knows what makes you tick. No. I know what's inside you, what's within you. The best part is, you're not even the first. No, you're one of hundreds," She sneered, her face almost taking on a demonic glint and with that, she turned on her dull heel and clicked out of my room. A wicked smile on her face the whole time.

Now, what am I supposed to make of that?

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

Part 3

I didn't get any sleep that night. I kept thinking of what Ms. Post had said.

*The best part is, you're not even the first. No, you're one of hundreds.*

What did that mean? One of hundreds? There were more...? Of me? What did that mean? I sighed and pushed back the heavy feeling sheets. I felt so darn restless. Like I was supposed to be doing something. Something...important, I don't know what, but it was something. I could feel it humming in my blood, making me feel too tight in my skin and fidgety. It'd be happening for awhile now, maybe six months and it would always start around five and would end by dawn. I hadn't talked to Wes about it, because I had thought it was just being stuck in here so long, taking its toll on me. And I was scared what he would say. Would it be bad? Good? Reveal something about my blank past? I don't know and didn't know if I wanted too. I got up and started to pace. I needed to move around, get the blood flowing, and just do something! I pushed my thick hair out of my face. I kind of wanted to cut it. The heavy weight of it bothers me and was almost always in my face, but something had always stopped me. It comforted me with the soft, silkiness of it.

Ugh, now I was getting sentimental about my hair. I think I'm going insane, I really do. Something isn't right in my head, I sometimes have imagines of killing. People and and things. It's all really morbid and I'm not happy I think things like that. I think that I'm not sane, something wasn't wired right in my head. It scares me. With this freak strength I have and Quentin and all the other Brits breathing down my necks, it makes me think Why am I here, for what purpose? Am I special, and if so, what makes me so special from everything else? I'll really drive myself mad with these unanswerable questions.

My door opens and it scares me, catching e off guard so I spin around and stand defensively. It's only Wes, but he's carrying two suitcases and looking very paranoid.

"Wes, what is it?" I ask softly.

He holds his finger to his lips and walks to the far corner of my room, keeping pressed to the wall. He took out a small remote and pressed the middle blue button. A high pitched beep filled the air for about ten seconds. I realize that he stopped the camera that was in my room.

"Wes," I asked when it stopped, "What is going on?"

"Listen to me, I've got to get you out of here," He whispered frantically.

"What? Why?" I ask, shaking my head in confusion.

"Questions later. Pack anything you need, and hurry!" He orders and stands by the door as if keeping watch.

I take the suitcase nearest to me and numbly walk to my small dresser. I take out my clothes and small necessities. I was stunned. I was leaving. The very thing I had wanted since forever. But, I didn't feel joyful or happy. I felt... nothing. Absolutely nothing. I realized I was in shock, I had read about it once, you feel nothing, but it will come soon and probably all at the same time, overwhelming you. I slip on my small white tennis shoes and pull my hair back, doing everything in automatic motion. I walk over to Wes and look at him with black eyes. He takes my hands and leads me out. I walk fast to keep up with his brisk place. He takes me further away from my room and I begin to feel nostalgic. I'm leaving. I'm leaving. I'm leaving. The thought loops itself in my mind. We come to a thick metallic door and Wes enters a long code. I see the numbers as I watch.

19-12-1-25-5-18

Something tells me to remember that number, that there's some significance to it. We walk on and soon we're out. Out. Out of the building. Out of that wretched place. Oh my God. There's a slight drizzle falling and I hear Wes whisper, "Blasted London weather..."

I choke out something between a laugh and a sob. We walk again and Wes is pulling me to keep up with him. My suitcase is banging against my leg and it's getting quite sore. I start to hyperventilate when it hits me that I'm out of the...place. I can't breathe and I yank my hand out of Wes's and lean against a brink wall.

"We have to move!" Wes hisses, anxiously looking around him.

I shake my head, "I can't." I gasp.

He squats on the balls of his feet and looks me in the eye.

"Listen to me. We have to keep moving. Quentin's gone stark raving mad. He wanted to put you through more 'tests', ones that could kill you. I can't let that happen. What he's been doing in inhumane and I couldn't let it go on. I've got to get you to a safe haven and then out of London." He whispered.

I nodded numbly, everything was happening so fast. He nodded too, maybe to reassure me, then got up and we began to walk again. For a long time, that's what we did. Then, instead of seeing warehouses, I began to see restaurants and hotels. We suddenly stopped and I looked and saw we were in the intersection of Mortimer Street and Regent St.

"Wes?" I asked, feeling overwhelmed.

"Listen," He whispered, "We're being followed. I need you to go to this address and tell them 'Pryce sent you', " He said urgently.

I looked at the paper he pressed into my hand. It said; East Castle Street, 44295 Mews Place.

I shake my head, "Wes, I can't go alone. I-I'll get lost."

He grabs my shoulders, "You have too. I need to take care of them and they can't see you. I promise you will get there, just remember the 'maze'. I will meet you there. Now, go," He says and turns into the shadows.

I let out a small cry and look at the paper. I clutch it for dear life and start to walk, hoping to God I'm going the right way. After twenty minutes I look up and see the sign saying, 'East Castle'. I let out a shriek of joy and start running. I skid to a stop when I see an alleyway. I go down it and see a metal door saying 'MEWS'. I don't know what to do... do I knock? Well, I did and a small slit appeared and a pair of beady eyes looked at me.

"Whaddya want, girlie?" He asked gruffly.

"Uh, I, uh..." I stammered.

"Spit it out!" He snapped.

"Pryce sent me!" I blurted out.

He looked shocked, yet skeptical, "What's the code?" He asked.

"Code?" I ask, "Uh..." I remember the code Wes used, please let that work, "19-12-1-25-5-18" I say and he looks friendlier as he opens the thick door.

"Welcome. Sorry for the whole tough guy act, but all kinds of people want in here. Pryce said awhile ago a girl like you might be comin' here. Glad to have someone with your status here. I gotta penthouse on top-a this joint and Pryce is rentin' it out for ya and him. C'mon," He said.

I was a little apprehensive about trusting him, but I trusted Wes and if he said so... I followed him and he unlocked this door to a nice apartment. He tells me that it's got two bedrooms and a kitchen/living room combo.

"When'll Pryce be here?" He asks.

"I-I don't know. He said he'd meet me here," I answered.

"Damn. Fine. I'll tell Gunn to keep a-watch on ya." He sighed, shaking his head as he left. I locked the door after him and turned on the small lamp in the corner. I loved out the small window facing the street and saw shadowy figures creeping around. I walked around the rooms and locked all the windows. I felt scared. People were after me. Quentin was after me and I was alone. I sat in the corner under the window and remained as still as possible. I was scared to even move for fear they would see my shadow and come and get me. I must have dozed off because my eyes few open when someone tried to open the door. Whoever it was got a little irritated and pounded harder.

"Who's there?" I yelled fearfully.

"It's me!" A voice yelled.

I was baffled, "Me, who?"

"Wes," He answered.

"Oh God." I gasped and scrambled out of my cramped corner and to the door. I unlocked it and the door flew open. I wrapped my arms around him and then let him walk in.

"Where were you? What happened?" I asked.

His eyes looked angry, but the anger was not directed to me. He hair and clothes were ruffled and he had blood on his hands.

"Wes.." I said, lifting his hand to see.

He pulled it away, shaking it head, "I'm fine."

But, I knew the blood wasn't his. I just hope he didn't kill anyone. But, I would never know what happened to him. Who was following us, what Wes did, why there was blood on his hands, I would never know because I didn't ask. I didn't want to know. I just watched as he quietly moved about the rooms. Making sure everything was locked, washing up, and then he sat down in front of me, looking at me for awhile.

"What?" I asked him.

"I suppose it's time you know, " He sighed.

"Know what?" I asked.

"Why this is all happening, why we're running, why you're here," He said.

My heart fluttered, what he going to tell me? I didn't say a word, for fear I would ruin it and he wouldn't tell me anything.

He sighed, a long deep sigh, "In this world, there are many strange things that lurk under the cloak of darkness. There are many things that cannot be explained rationally or scientifically even. There is a whole other world, many other worlds in fact, that connect to ours. They create a breach so to speak. Do you know what a 'slayer' is?" He asked me.

I looked at him, know the term seemed familiar.

"A killer?" I guessed.

"In a way. A slayer is a destroyer of evil things, to put it simply. Vampires, demons, monsters. Everything you thought hid under your bed as a child is real," He said.

"I was never a child," I said brokenly.

He looked extremely guilty as he said, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for what you've had to go through and I know it is confusing. But, let me explain this first, alright?" He asked.

I nodded and he went on, "As long as there have been vampires, there has been Slayers. On girl in all the world, to find where they gather and stop the spread of their evil and the swell of their numbers. She is the Slayer." He said, taking another breath, "There have been Slayers around for thousands of years. Demons have been around even longer. Each time a slayer dies, another is called. There has always been one Slayer in each generation. But, that was changed. There was a girl, Buffy Summers. She was extraordinary. She was killed by The Master, an ancient master vampire. He drowned her and she was brought back to life by one of her friends. But, four years later, she killed a hell-goddess and closed the portal, which killed her in the process. The first time she died, her death called the next Slayer. Faith Reynolds. But, when Buffy died again, it stopped the calling of the Slayers. And that was five years ago. Faith, she's amazing. She had troubles and was in jail, but was soon let out after Buffy's passing. She now takes over the slaying."

"Quentin was outraged that Buffy had done such a thing, jump to her death and ruin the line of slayers, he vowed to do something about it. We were fools to listen to him, but he called us all because we had a connection to her, we knew how she worked. We all thought that we were going to try and convert a potential Slayer to be like her, we didn't know we were going to make her," He said, his eyes faraway.

He pulled out a thick file and slid it over to me, "It contains everything. Information on you. Read it," He said, then went back into the far room, leaving me alone to find everything out.

* FILE ONE-

[NAME] Summers, Buffy A.

[DOB] 19th, January 1981

[BLOOD TYPE] B Positive

[EYE COLOR] Green

[HAIR COLOR] Brown/Blonde

[PARENTS] Summers, Hank P. Summers (Benson), Joyce M.

[DATE OF CALLING] 28th, March, 1995

[DATE OF DEATH] 2nd, June 1996 & 21st, May 2001

[ENEMIES] Darla, The Three, The Master (Joseph Henrich Nest), William the Bloody aka 'Spike', Drusilla, Ethan Rayne, Order of Taraka, Lyle and Tector Gorch, Angelus, Belthazar, Faith, Richard Wilkins III, Sunday, The Gentlemen, Maggie Walsh, Adam, Glorificus

[WATCHER(s)] Merrick Johnston, Rupert Giles, Wesley Wyndom-Pryce

*

There were more papers than I could count but I suddenly didn't have the energy anymore to look through them. I was invading this girl's privacy, dead she may be, but still, this was her life. I stood up and put the thick file in my bag, maybe someday I would look through them all, but...I wasn't ready to find everything out. I thought I was, but not yet. I looked out the window and saw the approaching light of dawn. I needed sleep. Something told me we'd be moving in the morning. So, sleep it is.

*

Wes woke me around two the next afternoon. He gave me a blueberry scone and a Styrofoam cup of coffee. I didn't like coffee, but I drank it desperately, needing the liquid induced energy. I gathered my things up, knowing that without Wes talking to me that we were leaving. He led me down the stairs and I looked back and saw I had a shadow. Someone was following me.

"Wes?" I asked.

He looked behind me and nodded, "Gunn," Was all he said.

When we reached outside, there was a car waiting for us. The three of us got in and I got a better look at Gunn. He was tall, black, shaved head, cute, quiet. Whoever was driving us, drove to the airport. Wes ushered me out and handed me a ticket.

"We're getting on separate planes." He said, then to shush my protests, "Gunn will go with you. You will land in New York, I will land in New Jersey. We will all meet in Los Angeles, California. We need to keep Quentin and his men searching for us. It's better if we split up. Darling, I promise that we will meet up. Gunn will take care of you," He said and pressed a kiss to my forehead and was then gone.

He was leaving again. Tears filled my eyes at being alone. Gunn put his hand tentatively to the small of my back and pushed me to the gate.

"C'mon blondie," He said in a deep comforting voice, "Let's go."

And off we went into the air, to a new start, a new life, a new me.

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

Part 4

Plane to NYC

November 2006

Being on a plane intrigued and terrified me all at the same time. Being up so high, yet not plummeting to the ground with a gory splat, it was strange. I was tense as we lifted off and Gunn actually laughed at me. He was pretty charming for someone of his status. He was a warrior, a fighter of some kind. He said he fought demons and vampires. He told me a wonderful tale of when he worked in Los Angeles. He told me of his friends, a girl named Cordelia, and a man named Doyle. I asked him about his boss and he became strangely quiet. He told me that his boss used to be an out-going, kind of fun guy but a death of a loved one had changed him.

"Changed him how?" I asked.

Gunn looked thoughtful, his brow creasing, "He loved this girl. I've never met her, but what've I've heard from her friends and her family, she was the kind of girl you never forget. Strong, pretty, you know, one of those girls," He sighed, "At least, that's what everyone tells me. Wish I could have known her."

We didn't talk much after that. He actually fell asleep while the airlines showed some movie about a dog...ugh. I got bored so I decided to read through the files that Wes had given me. I skipped through the files on Buffy. I couldn't bear to invade her privacy, dead or not. I saw a file titled 'ANNE'. It caught my interest and I looked at it. There were pictures of what looked to be cells and tissue samples. I frowned as I read the hand written notes.

'Anne seems to be progressing as we had hoped. All her blood work and cell samples came back regular and healthy. She is developing as a normal eleven year old girl should be.'

Under the small caption, was a picture of me when I was eleven. I looked so small and scared. But, Ginny was standing next to me. My eyes teared, oh Ginny...

"Anne," I whispered the word to myself, it seemed to fit, and whispered "That's my name; Anne"

I felt overwhelmed, so I put the file back in my sack. I had a name and I now knew it. It's a lot to take in, a name, finally. Years of being called 'dear' and 'darling' and 'her'.... Wow.

Exhaustion over everything took over and I fell into a deep sleep and was awoken by Gunn hours later while the plane was landing. I sat up and stretched, running a hand through my unruly hair. The plane landed with a jolt that made me grab Gunn's arm, which, in turn, he laughed at. He shakes his head and mutters something about me being a 'fiery one'. I chuckled nervously and closed my eyes until we were completely on the ground. Gunn made sure to stay glued to my side the whole time while our bags were checked. He hailed a taxi and we drove around in a maze of streets. I looked at all the people, feeling utterly overwhelmed. I had never been around so many people. I also looked at them each, or tried too. Everyone was so different, their clothes so colorful. I looked down at my dreary own clothes. I sigh frustratedly and Gunn noticed me.

He looked thoughtful for a minute, then grinned, "Hey, I think we can cut out a little time to get ya some things."

"Clothes?" I inquired.

"Clothes, souvenirs, stuff, whatever you want," He said.

"Wonderful," I said, smiling, then I frowned, "When are we supposed to meet Wes?" I asked.

"We have to be in LA by Wednesday at noon," Gunn answered.

"LA?" I asked, confused.

"Los Angeles," Gunn laughed, "You are a funny one, y'know?"

"I'm not sure if I should be thankful for that or not..." I mused sarcastically.

"Girls' got spunk," Gunn murmured to himself, "Who'da thought?"

*

We stopped at one of many clothing stores and Gunn told me to pick out what I wanted. I saw jeans and skirts and colorful shirts. Anything would do other than white. I despise the color white.

"May I help you?" A women asked.

"Yes, I'm looking for some clothing," I said shyly.

The woman gave me a funny look, "Well you are in a clothing store," She mused.

"Yes, of course," I stammered.

She smiled again and I realized she was joking, she looked to be my age. Her hair was fire red, which I didn't think was a natural color, and her eyes sea blue. She led me around the store, asking me what I liked. She told me I looked to be a size five so, she gathered all of the clothing I had picked and led me to a dressing room. I had picked a pair of beige colored pants that had a huge leg. She told me those were called 'Kakis Bellbottoms'. I had picked some tank tops, most were red and black, some with thin straps and others that were halters. I also bought a black 'Nike' pullover jacket. I gave the clothes to Gunn, who paid for them. I wore the kakis and red halter out of the store, pulling my jacket on as we left. We walked around for a few hours and he took me into some gift shops. I wandered off into the back of the store and saw these beautiful small umbrellas. They were almost doll-size. There was one that caught my attention though. It was a light pink and purple color with sparkles all over it. An image flashed into my mind.

'Class Protector'

"I had no idea that children en masse could be gracious."

"And I got a little toy surprise."

"Every now and then, people surprise you."

The images and sounds hit me like nothing I had ever felt. I was seeing and hearing things I had never seen or even heard anyone talk about before. What was going on? I don't know, but I knew I had to have that small umbrella. Something was telling me I had to have it. I took it up to the counter and showed it to Gunn.

"You sure you want it? Looks kinda girly," He asked.

"Yes," I said in a clipped voice, "I want it."

He shrugged and paid for it, handing me the bag. I gripped it along with my other things. We walked to a hotel Gunn showed me our rooms. It was Tuesday, around six. We had to be to the airport by seven thirty to catch our eight o'clock flight. Great, another plan. Gunn suggested I got to sleep, but I couldn't. We had adjoining rooms, for safety reasons. Gunn told me to lock my door and scream if anything went wrong and he retired for the night. I opened my pack and pulled out the mass of papers. I was going to read them. I sighed and pulled a file about the girl, Buffy. I couldn't help but bend my privacy rule. She intrigued me.

*

FILE TWO-

Buffy rejects her calling as a Slayer. Not a surprise. She seems like a girl who wants to stand out in the crowd, yet wants to be a part of it. What a naïve child she is. She doesn't understand her importance her life holds. In her arms, she holds the weight of the world and doesn't even know it. I watched her while she went to the matinee with her companions, she seemed more alert, aware of her surroundings. She seemed to know I was following her, but didn't stop outright. Maybe there is hope for her after all.
-Merrick, April 3rd, 1995

Buffy finally agreed to come patrolling with me, yet she grumbled all the way about fantasy and the Internet. I don't think I'll ever understand this girl. I took her to the Phoenix cemetery and made her wait for the corpse of George Chesterton to rise. He did, and she was sitting atop of the grave. She fought with him for several moments and I was sure that she wouldn't manage, but she did. She first stabbed him in the abdomen before staking him. It was quite impressive, for a newly called one. I noticed there was someone watching us. I didn't take any notice, not enough to alarm neither Buffy nor the man. I think I know who it was, but I must speak to Whistler before I can reveal anymore.
-Merrick, April 7th, 1995

Whistler contacted me. He told me what the Powers told him to do, and frankly, I don't agree. Angelus, the Scourge of Europe, was told to watch this girl, my Slayer. But, Whistler insists he has a soul now, that he is different than the murderous demon he once was. Who am I to argue with what they say? I've decided to not tell the Council nor Buffy. She will find out that she has a Guardian Angel, (no pun intended), watching over her. The Council would disapprove, and I do not blame them, but they do not have the business knowing. This is between The Powers, Whistler, The Slayer, Angelus, and I. No more, no less.
-Merrick, April 11th, 1995

I fear this may be my last entry on the Slayer. Lothos has arisen and is after my Slayer. She is one of the best I have seen in a very long time, and I will do anything to make sure Lothos does not kill her. Even if it is against Council regulation, I do not care. She will go on and she will be handed over to Rupert Giles. I have requested that she be placed with him. I respect him and he will be good with her, her will love her. He will make sure she stays alive, no matter the cost. All Rupert will have to do is find an alias in Sunnydale, California, where the hellmouth is and meet the Slayer. Buffy, if you ever read this and the worst has happened to me; I was proud of you. You went against everything you ever knew for the sake of lives, for the sake of the world. I wish you good luck and the best this life has to offer.
-Merrick, April 29th, 1995

[END OF FILE TWO]

*

Her Watcher must have cared for her a lot to give up his own life. Wes told me once a Slayer dies, a new one is called. What difference did it make if Buffy had lived or not? Another would only be called. I didn't know why her life, out of millions, mattered so much. I wish I could have met her, to at least talk to her. There were so many things I wanted to know. I knew Wes knew, but I had a strange feeling asking him would only upset him. Maybe whoever we were meeting with Wes could answer these questions...maybe.

*

I fell asleep with the file on my lap. Gunn woke me up with a gentle nudge and informed me I had to get ready. I had no dreams that night, not really. I kept hearing a haunting voice repeating;

"It's always about the blood..."

It baffled me. It made me wonder what part of my head thought up these things? I dressed back into my kakis and pulled over one of the tank tops I had bought. Gunn handed me my jacket and then we were off. We arrived at the airport and were ushered to our plane. I decided I didn't like flying. I didn't like being so high up in some metal contraption that could plummet to the hard ground within seconds. Gunn and I engaged ourselves in conversation.

"How long have you known Wes?" I asked him.

"A while. Couple years...He worked with us for awhile, just putting in his own two cents about some things, but that was only for a few weeks, in '99. I guess he gotta call from London and started working for those Council bastards again," Gunn shrugged, "So, what are you two anyways?" He asked.

"Pardon?" I asked, not quite understanding him.

"You two hooked up, or what?" He asked.

He meant if we were a couple, "Of course not. He's my best friend, I've known him for years. You word your phrases strangely," I mused.

He laughed, "That's 'cause I'm from LA and you're from London, English girl all the way," He laughed again, "So, how long have ya known English?" He asked.

"You mean Wes?" I said, raising a brow.

Again, he laughed, "Yeah, I mean Wes."

"Um, six years. I, uh, met him when I was ten," I said, not wanting to reveal too much about my strange past.

"Nice. He's pretty protective of you." He said suggestively.

"Yes, but in a brotherly way. He doesn't love me. Not like that," I said.

"But, you love him?" Gunn asked.

"For a time, I did. I looked up to him and thought he was the most wonderful man in the world, or at least my world. But, he was -is- in love with someone else. Now, he's just my protector. I know he'll never let anything happen to me," I finished with a smile.

Gunn just smiled and we were silent for a few moments.

"Are you in love with anyone?" I asked.

He looked thoughtful for a moment, "No." He shook his head, "My life is too dangerous for love." He looked so sad.

"Why?" I asked softly.

"I had a sister, Alonna. Sweetest girl you'd ever meet. She was kidnapped and killed. I might as well have killed her myself," He said, his dark eyes black with pain.

"How did she die?"

"You wouldn't know, kid. That stuff, you're too young to know about, too innocent." He said.

"Vampires?" I guessed.

His head whipped over to look at me, "How the hell you know about that stuff?" He asked, his voice hard.

"I had to fight one. The place where I was at, they made me do things like that. It's no big deal," I shrugged it off, not wanting to talk anymore.

*

We landed about four hours later. Gunn led me through the masses of people and too the door where he hailed another cab. We rode through a maze of streets and buildings. He took out a small cell phone and quickly punched in a number. I listened to the one-sided conversation.

"Yeah, we just came from the airport. We'll be there in about ten minutes, depending of traffic. You tell them about her? Man, you better do it now. Boss-man's gonna freak, y'know? We're goin' in through the back, 'cause that'll give ya enough time for you tell ya story and for me to get her upstairs for some R and R. Rest and relaxation, you dumbass. So, that's what we're doin' ok? Yeah, see ya in a few," Gunn finished, putting the phone back into his pocket. He looked at me and said, "We're going to the Hyperion Hotel, it's not another hotel, don't worry. It's where me and the gang hold up shop. You'll get to meet everyone. Wes is already there and waiting for you."

I nodded and a bout of lethargy passed over me. It was strange and unintentional, but I just couldn't help it when my eyes started to droop. Some faraway part of my mind whispered;

"Magic..."

I couldn't pay any attention to the familiar voice for I was already asleep.

*

I awoke to some women screaming at me. I jumped out of the bed I didn't remember going to and stood in a fighting stance. The girl was taller and older, than I, her long dark brown hair curling down her back. Her dark eyes were wide with disbelief. I heard running and watched as Wes rushed into the room, his face ashen.

"What the bloody hell is going on here?" He demanded in a harsh whisper.

"She came in and started to scream!" I said, pointing at the women.

"Cordelia, what are you doing?" He asked.

She turned to him, her eyes still wide, "They look so much alike..." She whimpered.

"Cordelia, you know this. I told you," He whispered, his voice low.

"I know... I-I'm sorry." She said turning toward me, her eyes searching my face for something.

"That's alright," I said, my stance still defensive, "You just scared me."

She nodded overly cheerful now, "I just brought you a sandwich, I thought you'd be hungry," She said, then hurrying out of the room.

"Who were you talking about?" I asked, "Who do I look like?"

Wes shook his head, sitting next to me and putting an arm around me, "No one. You're your own self now, don't let anyone tell you different," He said.

I nodded, "Ok."

I thought I heard something and I looked toward the halfway opened door. Someone had been outside it, watching me. They were still there, but all I caught a glimpse of was dark eyes and a flash of black. A trench coat maybe?

"Finish eating and then I'll introduce you to everyone, alright?" Wes asked.

I nodded and he left. But, my mind was on the person outside my door? Who had it been and why did I have this feeling of butterflies buzzing around in my belly? Why did I feel...hopeful?

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

Part 5

I ate my sandwich slowly, chewing each bite thoughtfully. Each bite that I swallowed felt like a pound of cement in my belly. I was nervous. Who would I be meeting? And, how many? I wasn't used to be around very many people, only being around a handful at a time my whole life. I finally finished my lunch and walked over to my mirror, gazing at the person staring back at me. Me. No matter how many times I gazed at myself, I always felt a sense of deja vu like, I had gazed at this face somewhere, another place, another time. It's hard to explain, to understand even. I sigh heavily and turn around quickly when I feel someone looking at me. There's no one there. The hairs on the back of my neck raise in warning, shivers crawling down my spine. My fists clench and I look around.

"Who's there?" I call out tightly.

No one answers, but the feeling is still there. I close my eyes and run my hands through my hair wondering if I'm going insane. Wouldn't rule out that possibility... My door opens and I jump, glaring at the intruder. It's Wes and my face softens.

"Are you all done?" He asks, gesturing to my plate.

I nod and stand up, taking the hand Wes has outstretched.

"You ready?" He asks me.

I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and nod yes, my heart pounding almost painfully. Wes leads me down a maze of hallways and stairs and I'm sure I'll never find my way around here. We come to a large red carpeted staircase and Wes squeezes my hand. We walk briskly down and I see about a dozen people or so just milling about, doing their jobs, I suppose. But, all commotion stops when they see me. Half look like they want to cry, the others just stare dumbfounded.

"Everyone, I'd like you to meet Anne."

*

"Everyone, I'd like you to meet Anne." Wes says, but I catch an undertone of a warning.

A warning of what? I don't know. I feel so uncomfortable underneath their searching stares.

"Hi," I say in a small voice, slowly moving behind Wes a little bit, to shield me from their eyes.

"Hi! I'm Anya. Anya Harris, pleased to meet you, Anne," This blonde girl says, stepping right up and shaking my hand firmly. She seems to say my name falsely, as if she wants to say something else.

I nod slowly, wishing she'd let go of my hand. All these people seem older than me, by at least ten years.

"This is Xander, my husband," Anya says, her voice full of warning that I better not steal her man.

I nod again, squeezing Wes's hand with bruising force, I'm sure.

"Anya, honey, don't scare the girl," Xander says, his voice almost flat like he's hiding his emotions.

Another girl steps up, she's a redhead. Her eye's seem to burn with anger, but she plasters on a fake smile and takes my hand.

"I'm Willow," She says.

She scares me. Her hands are shaking in anger. She grips my small hands until her knuckles turn white. I take a step back from her and pull my hands away. Her eyes seem black, but no one else sees it. They're all to busy staring at me. I press myself to Wes's side and he smiles down at me. I think I hear a soft growl and look up to find the source. At the end of the long lobby was a man. A tall, dark, and handsome, 'take me now' sort of man. His eyes were chocolate, his hair spiked, and brown. He wore black slacks and a black button up shirt. He stared at me, his eyes wide, unbelieving, and angry. I looked away quickly. I don't want to be here! I try and smile at them, but I feel like I'm being inspected.

"Can we go somewhere?" I ask Wes.

He looks from them, to me, and understands, "Where would you like to go?" He asks, leading me away.

"Anywhere but here," I plead softly.

I can't handle so many people. I just freeze. When you've been locked up your whole life, crowds scare you. At least they do me. I'm not sure what to say to everyone, on account of I don't have very developed social skills, I guess. Wes knows what I'm talking about. He'll always know.

To my surprise, Wes tours me around the monstrously large hotel. It's got four floors, I'm told. The first is mostly the lobby, kitchen, ballroom, and the maid's quarters.

"They have maids?" I asked incredulously.

Wes laughs, shaking his head, "No, darling, this used to be a thriving hotel in the 1950s, before Angel bought it," Wes explained.

"Oh." I said, then, "Who's Angel?"

My simple question made him look at me closely, his blue eyes searching my face. His looked very disturbed, then in a strange voice he said, "Angel is the owner. I think you'll meet him soon, when the time is right."

When the time is right? What did he mean?

"The red head, I don't like her," I said, remembering how her eyes seemed to gaze through me angrily.

Again, he looks troubled. He didn't answer me and began to explain what the other floors of the hotel. The second was common rooms. Just bedrooms with bathrooms. The third was slightly more favored. Having a sitting room, bathroom, and a bedroom. Like a boarding house might. The fourth floor were where the extravagant penthouses were. Wes told me that some of the people who worked here stayed in some of these.

"Am I going to stay here?" I asked.

Wes shrugged, "I suppose, if you wish," He answered.

"Can I pick my own room?" I asked, getting excited now.

"Of course."

"Can I decorate it?" I asked, a girlish smile forming.

"I would suppose, it being your room. But, I must speak with Angel first, to see if that is alright with him."

My smile grew. I couldn't wait to explore this place and pick out the perfect room for me, all me.

"Could I meet Angel?" I asked, wanting to see this mystery man.

"He's a very busy man. In time you will, darling. In time."

*

We had gone back downstairs and Wes went in search of this Angel person. I sat on plush red couches, watching everyone work. I saw the brunette, Cordelia, sitting at a computer, chatting away with Anya. Her husband, Xander, was no where to be seen. I saw the red head, Willow, reading a thick book. There was an older man, his hair chestnut colored, curling slightly. He had round glasses and a friendly face. He was on the phone, his eyes meeting mine. He gave me a smile, his eyes twinkling. I nodded slightly and smiled back. I thought the shine of his eyes, were tears, but why would he cry? He turned back to his work and I felt the couch dip under someone else's weight. Gunn sat next to me, smiling foolishly.

"What?" I asked suspiciously, my own lips curling into a smile.

"I wanna show ya somethin," He said, taking my hand and leading me to a back room. There were ancient weapons hanging on the gray brick walls. I stared amazed, my eyes wide. The blades of the knifes and daggers shone wickedly against the dim light.

"Wow," I breathed, walking towards the weaponry. I took a funny looking knife off the wall and spun it in my hands. I don't know how I did it, but Gunn stared, shocked.

"Damn, girl. It took me weeks to learn how t'do that!" He sighed, his eyes lighting up.

"I don't know how I did that," I said, staring at the knife. It was curved, ridges along one side.

'Stuck it in her gut, just slid in her, like she was butter.'

I dropped the knife, it clanking loudly on the ground, making me jump.

"Yo, you alright?" Gunn asked.

I swallowed hard, feeling these emotions. Anger, hate, sorrow, loss. I thought of the words again and all the feelings came back, hitting me like a ton of bricks.

"I'm...fine..." I said detachedly. I shook my head and looked into his concerned eyes, "Fine. I'm fine."

I picked up the knife and put it back, "These are all so amazing, where did you get them?"

"Not mine, chick. Most of these are Angel's." He said, smirking at me.

"Gee, a bit jealous, are we?" I asked sarcastically.

He rolled his eyes, shaking his head, "Me, jealous of weapons that are worth more than I have in the bank, hell no," He said, lifting his chin.

I laughed, ohh, Gunn was a strange one. I shook my head, walking out of the room. I didn't see Wes. I pouted, where was he? I wandered around, going upstairs and to the fourth floor to pick out my room. I went through three of them that just didn't feel right. The fourth was a locked door. Against my initial restraint, I twisted the handle sharply, breaking the lock with audible snap.

"Ok, this is not breaking and entering..." I murmur to myself, walking into the rooms.

It was beautiful. The walls in the sitting room were painted a dark green, the dim light casting an emerald glow on everything. I just stood in awe, looking at the glorious features. There was a loveseat and a daybed, both black. I could see the kitchen, a big window lighting up the area. The moonlight filtered in, casting a silver-blue colored on the walls. I sighed, walking around slowly, absorbing everything.

"What are you doing in here?" A harsh voice asked, starling me.

It was a man, half hid by the shadows. But, I could tell he was angry. Chocolate eyes glittered dangerously at me. I stood defiantly, not fearing him.

"Wes told me I could pick out a room, any one I wanted," I answered.

"Wes informed you wrong. Not this one." He growled, stepping toward me. I didn't back away, I just stared at him, feeling as if I should know him. But, I was angry. How dare he be angry with me, I didn't know him.

"Who are you?" I asked, my voice low.

He laughs sardonically, "You're asking me. You who said, forever!"

"What are you talking about?" I asked.

I could smell liquor on him. This man was drunk.

"You should know!" He snapped and I jumped.

"Now, now, Peaches, leave the little chit alone," A purring British voice said, pulling the man out of the way.

"You'll have to forgive nancy-boy here. I insisted that he have a drink to calm him down, didn't know the Poof couldn't hold his liquor," The bleach haired man said.

I nodded slowly.

"I'm Spike, and you'd be?" He asked.

"Anne." I said.

He smirked, pushing the man again, "Best you be meetin' him when he's sober."

I nodded and watched as he pushed the dark haired man away. I stood in the beautiful room for a moment longer, than left. It didn't welcoming anymore. Tomorrow, I'd fix that lock. And, stay out of that man's way...

*

Wes joined me to pick out another room. I didn't utter a word about my encounter with the mystery man. I didn't think it would do any good to stir up trouble. Something told me that these people were a tightly knit group and I dare not mess with them. Wes showed me a room down the hall, far from the beautiful emerald room. The walls were fairly dark, one might think it was a bit depressing. The walls were black and rouge. The living room having leather sofas and a scarlet crushed velvet daybed. The bedroom had a cherry colored canopy bed. I liked it very much. Wes helped me move what little I had into the glorious penthouse, telling me that of the girls might take me shopping soon.

"But, I don't know all of them," I protested, not very comfortable with being alone with these strangers.

"It's alright darling, you will," Wes assured me then beckoned me to come down for dinner, according to him, they had ordered pizza to celebrate my coming.

"These people are so strange," I commented on the way down to the lobby.

Wes laughed, muttering something about pop culture and living in the 'now'. I shrugged it off, not even wanting to try to understand it.

I slowed my walk so I was behind Wesley, not wanting to face these people head on.

"Hi! Anne!" Anya said cheerily.

I gave a small smile and a wave, not knowing what to say.

"You ever had pizza?" A girl younger than the rest asked me.

She had dark eyes and curling raven colored hair. She wore a white tank top and blue jeans.

'5 by 5, B.'

I blinked, slowly getting used to the flashes of voices and sounds I got. A feeling of protective suspicion went through me, making my blood feel like soda in my veins, popping and fizzing.

"Once," I said, knowing my answer took long enough to raise suspicion, "Ginny brought it for me, remember Wes?" I asked, my voice cracking slightly.

He nodded slowly, his eyes seeing a memory, "I remember."

"Who's Ginny?" the girl named Cordelia asked.

"She was a friend of mine. She worked at the..." I glanced at Wes, not knowing how much to reveal, he nodded, "...the place were I was. But, she got in trouble and Quentin 'disposed' of her." I answered, turning so they wouldn't see my misting eyes.

"Quentin?" A new voice asked.

I glanced at the group, seeing the man whom I had smiled at before, stand. His eyes were wary and I could see Wes curse himself inwardly.

"I don't want to talk about this..." I answered quickly, pushing back the terrible memories that I was reluctant to admit that were my life. I suppose I spoke too quickly or too sharply, for everyone turned to stare at me, their eyes searching.

"Can we stop with the staring? You could make someone feel like a bloody damned hamster in a cage," I muttered, my voice seething and my slight accent thickening with anger.

"Darling..." Wes said in his fatherly way, trying to reach for me, to sooth me.

"No. I'm fine. I'll just take my food to my rooms, I'm feeling a bit weary anyways," I mumbled, taking a slice of pizza and a can of soda and stomping up to my room. As I left, voices began to rise with anger.

"You bloody pompous idiots!" That was Wes, "Can you bloody blokes make her feel any more unwelcome?" He demanded.

"We're sorry!" Cordelia yelled, "This is strange, for all of us!"

"You can't expect us to welcome her back with open arms, Wesley. Not after what happened!" An enraged voice hissed.

"Damn, Willow. It was six years ago! What you did...you should be glad it didn't work. What you made her into, what she was!" A new voice cried. I leaned over the railing and looked below.

It was the drunken man from earlier. But, now he wasn't drunk, he was angry.

"I had to bring her back!" Willow cried.

"Not like you did! She would have killed us all!" The mystery man shouted back.

"And, you killed her first!" Willow screamed, her voice raw and rough.

A deadly silence fell over the room below and I wonder what in the world the lots of them were talking about. A cold hand touched my shoulder and I whirled around, a small yelp escaping my lips. It was Spike, the bleached blond.

"You shouldn't be eavesdropping, pet," He said, leading me away.

"What are they talking about?" I asked him.

"Best you not know," He answered.

I sighed and took a bite of my food. I was suddenly so confused and tired.

"You're exhausted," Spike said comfortingly.

He led me back to my room and he set my food in my refrigerator.

"I want to meet him," I mumbled as he tucked me into my bed.

"Who?" He asked, sitting on a small recliner.

"The man, who was yelling," I said, not knowing how to describe him.

"You mean Peaches. Well, I'm sure he'll pay ya a nightly visit. Probably won't have to wait too long. He could never hold back too long with ya," He said, his clear blue eyes seeing a past I couldn't fathom. Where in the bursts of wakefulness, I would have questioned him, I couldn't now because the pulls of sleep were having their way with me, taking me with them into their realm of dreams...for now.

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

Part 6

I couldn't see anything. It was all a scarlet haze. But, I could hear very well. A voice, so soothing, so comforting. Hearing it made me hurt. I couldn't see who it was, but I just knew that it was my Mother.

*"Sweetheart, don't spill the milk on your sister."*

*"I left my bra in his car."*

*"You walk out of this house, don't even *think* about coming back!"*

*"Was he the first? No. Wait. I don't want to know, I don't *think* I want too..."*

I can just picture her. Her honey colored hair, curling on her shoulder. Her big brown eyes, her smiling face.

"Mommy, Tyler wants to take me to the movies," I hear myself say.

"Darling, can't you just stay home? You've been out every night this week."

"I don't want to stay here. All you and Dad do is fight! I hate it here! I hate this damn family!"

"Watch your mouth. You are not going!"

"I hate you!"

I see her eyes flash with hurt, tears filling her doe eyes.

"Go to your room now."

I don't know what happens next. Its like one scene switched to another. I see a prone body laying on a brown sofa. The body is pretty, wearing a suede skirt and a beige blouse. Her eyes are opened and glassy, her chest unmoving, her lips parted in a ghostly moan. Her sunny curls lay around her, framing her still features. And I realize, she's dead. This women that I picture my mother to be is dead.

"Mom? Mom...? Mom, mom, mom, mom, MOMMIE!"

I hear my voice screeching and cracking. I feel bile and panic raising in my sickly wet throat. As I gaze at my Mother, I feel my mouth taste salty as the saliva begins to flow. I'm going to vomit. The scene flashes forward and I hear,

"She's cold. My Mom, she's cold, should I warm her up?"

"We can't move her, we can't move the body!"*

And, I wake up.

*

My eyes fly open and I'm aware of my face being sticky with tears. I lick my dry lips and taste salt. I kick the now heavy covers off my body. I'm aware of someone in my room, looking at me, slowly brushing their fingers on my clammy face. I stiffen slightly, knowing who it is. The mystery man. His fingers explore my face softly, the callused, yet soft, fingertips sending shivers down my spine.

"You were dreaming," He murmured softly, brushing my truly wild hair away.

"I was," I agree softly.

"About what?" He asks me, his voice quiet, rough, and soft at the same time.

"A lot of things," I answer, shifting my eyes to look at his pale moonlit face.

His cheekbones are high, his eyes shadowed. His lips are smooth. His face is pale and the silver light makes him look translucent.

"Are you a dream?" I whisper softly.

He chuckles wryly, "I should be asking you that question."

"Why?" I asked him, ever so confused.

"You shouted out, 'Mommy' in your sleep," He said, abruptly changing the subject.

"I suppose I shout out a lot of things while I dream," I mused.

"No, just that," He said.

"You were drunk earlier, weren't you?" I asked.

"Sorry about that," He says regretfully, "I've been mourning."

"I'm sorry."

He shook his head, "So..."

I pushed the covers off fully and got out of bed. I could feel his eyes trailing me, watching me. I padded barefooted around the penthouse and to the kitchen. I took out the pizza and coke from earlier, taking a bite and frowning slightly. He sauntered into the room and leaned against the far wall.

"I don't like it here," I said bluntly.

He seemed unfazed, "Why?"

"It's too big, too open. But, it's not white, so that's a plus," I shrugged, knowing I was talking mere nonsense.

"You don't like the color white?" He asked, trying to find some meaning in my rambling babble.

"No. I don't. I despise it, really," I answered through a mouthful of cold pizza.

He gave me a strange look, then said, "You're very pale."

I gave a snort, "You are too."

"You have an accent."

"Wow, you're very insightful," I replied sarcastically.

He shook his head and walked to the door.

"I have to go," He said, starting to leave.

"What's your name?" I asked him, gulping down a drink of soda.

*'Let's just say I'm a friend.'*

*'What if I don't want a friend?'*

*'Didn't say I was yours.'*

He shook his head slightly, "Angel."

"Hmm, pretty name," I mused.

He looked at me sharply, his brown eyes wild. His mouth opened to say something, but he closed it, the panic and surprise leaving and his face becoming emotionless. He turned and hurriedly slipped away, into the halls, away from me.

Though I was now alone, I couldn't fall back asleep. I felt itchy and restless. I had to do something, walk a round, anything. I slipped out of my room and padded down the hallway. I had made it to the second floor when I realized someone was following me. I didn't show any sign that I knew, I just kept walking. Somehow, I felt a hand fly at my back. Maybe I felt the air or...I just knew. I grabbed the hand and swung them forward, which they, in turn, grabbed my neck and slammed me into the wall.

"Get off me!" I hissed, clawing at the person.

They laughed and I knew it was a women. In the pale light, I saw fire red hair and flashing hazel eyes.

"What are you doing up so late, Anne?" She asked, her voice sickeningly sweet. Her pale fingers trailed through my hair, her nails running down my cheek. I shivered.

"Couldn't sleep," I answered clipped.

"I see through you, you know?" She whispered, her face close to mine, "I see through your little act. But, let me tell you, you'll never be her. You never will fool me."

"Be who?" I asked, my voice thickening in anger, "What on earth are you talking about?"

"Oh, don't be coy." She scolded as if I were a mere puppy, "I know what you're trying to do. You, go ahead, act like her. Try and be her, but you never will be. Just, go back to whatever hell you came from," She sneered, her voice growing harsher and meaner.

"Willow, what the hell is going on here?" A voice said.

I looked up and saw the raven haired girl and Spike walk down the hall toward us. I let out a silent sigh of relief. Willow backed away and I rubbed my aching neck.

"Nothing. She wanted to know where the bathroom was," Willow said.

"She's got a bathroom in her own room, red," Spike drawled, his eyes fixed angrily on the red head.

"Damn it! I don't have to explain myself to you!" She yelled loudly, and I was sure she woke this whole floor up.

She glared at me, her eyes flashing dangerously, then fled down the hall, going further and further until she disappeared into thin air.

"Damn it all to bloody hell!" Spike cursed furiously.

"She's doing it again, isn't she? Relapsing?" The raven haired girl asked.

"Afraid so, damn it, I thought she was better... Guess I gotta go tell Angel..." He murmured.

He looked at me and smirked, "Faith, since you two are up, why don't you take her out, luv?" He asked the girl.

Her face scrunched up in confusion, "Spike, it's two in the morning, where would I go, it's so dark out..." She seemed to pick up on his meaning, "Oh, sure, why not?"

Spike smirked and kissed the girl, Faith, on her cheek, "See you later, luv."

"Love you," She whispered, then took my arm, and led me down the long stairs.

"Where are we going?" I asked, as she led to a closet and threw me a leather jacket.

She didn't answer, but boy what a sight we were. Both of us had bed tousled hair and we wore our bed clothes with black leather jacket over them. She tossed me a wooden stick, one I remembered from when Quentin made me fight that disfigured man.

"Let's jet," She said as we slipped out of the darkened hotel and into the night.

*

We walked around for about an hour. Faith showed me all the local night hangouts. There were demons just milling about, all over the place. When I questioned Faith one it, she just told me that not all demons are bad.

"You've got to look past the outside features into them. You'll find out not all of them want to destroy the world."

"But-but... They're *demons*!" I sputtered, so very confused.

"You're right," She simply said, shrugging.

"Then-"

"You'll understand someday. Maybe soon, you still gotta meet the rest of the gang," She smiled.

"There are more of you?" I ask.

She laughs, "Hell yeah. A bunch more."

"How will I ever fit in?" I wonder aloud.

"You will, trust me kiddo, you will," She smirked, obviously knowing something I didn't.

We rounded the corner and were ambushed by some vampires.

"Son of a bitch!" Faith yelled, jumping into action.

"What do I do?" I shouted, pushing on of the snarling abominations away from me.

"Stake 'em in the heart!" Faith shouted, staking one of the beasts. They exploded into dust.

I just repeated her motions, using more force.

I had been doing pretty good, but they kept coming. Several new ones had weapons, knives to be exact.

"Where the hell are they all coming from?" Faith shouts.

I looked around wildly, "The sewer!" I yelled.

And suddenly, I was pinned up against they wall, cold hands around my neck, arms, and legs. I could hardly breath. Out of the corner of my eyes, I saw Faith in the same predicament. Faith thrashed around fiercely, her lips peeled back in a snarl, her eyes glittering dangerously.

"Two Slayers...tempting," One growled and I could feel his tongue on the base of my throat. I squirmed, feeling like vomiting.

"Get your paws off her, you dirty-ass beast!" Faith screamed.

"And, what are you going to do? Kick around more?" One hissed, pressing up against her, "Lower, baby," He leered.

"You asshole! Do you even know who in the hell we are?" Faith yelled, her voice ragged.

"Lunch?" One guessed.

"You know Angelus and William the Bloody?" She boomed.

They looked uneasy, "I'm guessing so. Well, guess what, fellas, you kill us and those two will be on you asses so fucking fast, you won't know what hit you!"

One slammed my up against the wall in rage, "Tell your little bitch friend to shut the hell up!"

I remained defiantly quiet and he tightened his hand around my throat. I gagged and started to thrash around. I saw that Faith, somehow, got free and was beating the vamps to a bloody pulp. I managed to free my legs and kicked the guy right in the crotch. He fell to the ground with an angry whimper. Others attacked me, but I punched, kicked, bit-did anything to keep from being trapped again. One swept their feet under mine and I fell to the ground hard, my vision flashing black. I tried my hardest to get back up, but I felt dizzy and nauseated, feeling blood drip down my neck. Two ugly vamps pulled me up and took blows at me. I ducked and rolled, so close to the edge of falling unconscious. I grabbed my stake that had fallen away from me and staked one. Another attacked me, but Faith killed him first. I fell to my knees while she heatedly staked the rest, swearing the whole time.

"Anne..." She said worriedly, crouching to my side, helping me up.

"Come on, we gotta get home," She said, looking around worriedly, "More will be coming."

I groaned as I sagged against her.

"Angel's gonna kill me..." She whispered, wiping some blood off my face as we walked.

"How bad is it?" I asked, feeling dizzy again.

"You look like hell," Faith said bluntly.

"You too."

She laughed, though it was a bit on the forced side, "You did good, for a rookie. If Angel lets me take you out again, I'll teach ya some tricks of my own."

"Can't wait."

*

Faith tried to sneak us into the hotel through the servants entrance, but Angel was awaiting us furiously. He pulled me away from her and Spike fled to her side.

"Jesus Christ, luv, what the hell happened?" He asked.

"Ambush," Faith answered, leaning on the bleached blonde.

"What the *hell* were you thinking, taking her out there?" Angel boomed, his eyes glittering dangerously.

"We were both up!" Faith protested, her voice hoarse.

"I don't fucking care, Faith!" He hissed, looking at my wounds.

He took a cloth and started dabbing at my forehead.

"She's fine, isn't she?" Faith yelled, angry at being in trouble.

"She could've been killed," Angel argued.

"You *know* I wouldn't let that happen," Faith hissed as Spike gently set ice on her swelling cheek.

Angel growled softly, then met my eyes, "Are you alright?" He asked softly.

I pushed away from him, "I'm fine."

He looked hurt for an instant, but then his face went emotionless again, "Don't ever go out again like that, not without me."

Anger flared within me, "You're telling me what to do?"

"While you live under my roof," He retorted.

"You're not my father," I hissed.

Spike snorted sardonically.

"I never said I was," He growled.

"You're acting like it!" I cried.

"How you *you* know, you don't even have a father!" He yelled, then looked immediately guilty.

I narrowed my eyes, my lips pursing tightly.

"Buf-Anne... I..." He sputtered.

I had another flash then.

* "I invited you into my home. And, then you attacked my family." *

* "Why not? I killed mine." *

My anger flared, my lips opening and saying something I knew would hurt. Though...I didn't know if it was true.

"At least I didn't kill mine!" I screamed.

I had taken a chance, gone on these strange flashes and acted on them. He looked stricken and then shocked. His mouth opened to say something, but I turned and fled to the stairs. He bounded after me, trying to grab my hand.

"Gte away from me!" I screamed in a shrill voice.

I saw Wes running down the stairs and I ran into his arms, weeping for reasons I didn't know.

"What the bloody... What did you do?" He demanded of Angel.

He didn't answer, but I could feel his eyes burning holes in my back. I didn't want to face him, talk to him, to know that I had truly hurt him.

"Faith took her slaying." Angel answered in a clipped voice.

"Are you hurt?" Wes asked me soothingly.

I nodded, but not because I was physically, but emotionally. I hated it here, these people, what was happening to me. I didn't understand it and I didn't want to try. All I wanted to do, is be somewhere familiar. With the Mother I had dreamed about, but if the flashes were right, then my dreams could be too and the women would be dead.

"I think she's exhausted, this is too much for her to comprehend," Spike murmured, "Too much."

Faith was leaning against him as he helped her limp up the stairs.

I pushed Wes away, feeling crowded. I followed Faith and Spike up the stairs and then said, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get you in trouble."

"No prob, Anne. It'll blow over by tomorrow, Angel's just overprotective, always has been and forever shall be." Faith waved it off, tentatively hugging me goodnight and then letting Spike lead her to their bedroom.

I staggered up to my rooms, wishing I could sleep forever. I froze in the doorway, someone had been in my room. I turned on my lights and look around cautiously. I saw a white envelope and opened it.

*Meet me at Hemery High School tomorrow. One O'clock,

Whistler*

Great. Another mystery person. Why couldn't we have just stayed in London?

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

Part 7

I awoke to the bright sun turning my eyelids a fiery orange. I squinted as I sluggishly rolled over to look at my small clock. It was just after noon. I pushed back my covers and yawned, shoving my thick hair out of the way as I padded to the bathroom. My appearance was horrible. I had dark circles under my eyes, clearly standing out on my porcelain pale face. My eyes were bloodshot and I had shadows of bruises all over me. There was dried blood in my hair and a rather large lump. I fingered it and let out a hiss. Painful. I did my business, undressed, and climbed into the shower. I turned the water on and the freezing water shocked me awake. Gradually it grew nice and hot. I let the water spray over me, letting it heal my tender skin and frazzled nerves. I remember the dreadful scene with Angel last night and had no desire to confront him again. He probably thought I was strange now. I felt silly, now that I thought about it. I had accused him of killing his parents by going on the strange flashes I'd been having. I was sure he had done no such thing. I mean, what self respecting man, and I'm assuming Angel is one, would kill their parents? He would have to be truly demonic and sadistic to even think of something like that. I lathered my hair shampoo and my body with soap. Soon I began to feel better and renewed. I stepped out of the shower and wrapped myself in one of the fluffy towels from the small closet. I still looked awful, but felt great. I threw on a pair of jeans and one of the tanks tops I had bought. I pulled my dripping hair into a messy bun and crept downstairs. I could hear the bustle and commotion downstairs and truly didn't want to face the lot of them. But, I needed food. My stomach demanded it. I found a side stairway and went down it silently. I ducked into the kitchen and was pretty sure no one saw me until I heard a voice say;

"Hey."

"Hey."

I jumped about a mile and whipped around to face the person. Faith sat at the table, her hair a mess and her face a shadow of bruises.

"Good morning," I said softly, so no one else would hear me and I wouldn't have to deal with them.

"Don't worry. No one will come in here. At least while I'm in here. I'm not a morning person," She said, sipping a steaming cup of coffee.

"Good," I breathed, "I really don't want to deal with anyone."

"I hear ya," She said, then offered me some kind of strange sandwich.

When I look at her strangely, she laughed and took a bite of hers.

"It's a croissantwich. Best of what McDonalds has in the morning," She boasted, taking another bite, a comical dreamy look entering her eyes.

I shook my head and took a bite of one. I tasted sausage, egg, and cheese. Mmm. I ate the whole thing and downed a glass of orange juice.

"Where ya going? You look like you're sneaking away to meet with a boy," Faith teased, leaning back in her chair.

"I am... I think." I said.

Faith looked at me funny, "Where are you going?" She asked, her voice layered with protectiveness.

"Out. To look around the town. I'd rather not be stuck here all day," I covered, not wanting to reveal that I was going to see some stranger named Whistler.

She eyes me then relented, "Fine. Be careful," She warned.

"Always am," I said, not really intending to say that. It just slipped out automatically.

She eyed me again then shook her head.

I waved slightly and slipped out of the room, climbing out of a near window. I couldn't go out the front door because everyone would see me them. I took out the note and reread it. Hemery High School. Now, where in the world was it? I just wandered around for a while before I came to a large building looming in the distance. It looked like a school...I think. I jogged across the street, and almost got killed. Really. Some person in the large truck squealed to a stop and yelled at me.

"Watch where ya going ya little bitch!"

I froze, fury pumping through my veins. I walked calmly over to the car and kicked the bumper, leaving a rather large dent. I laughed and the person went nuts.

"Do you know how much this costs? You better have insurance! I'm going to hunt you down and kill you!"

I rolled my eyes resumed my jog to the school. Now, where was I supposed to meet this guy?

"Hey! Blondie, over here!" I heard a voice yell.

I looked over and saw an absorbedly dressed man waving me over. He wore a bright yellow trench coat and orange corduroys and a teeny hat.

"Oh my God..." I murmured.

"You comin or what?" He demanded as I walked slowly over there.

"What are you wearing?" I asked him.

"I'm gonna choose to ignore that comment. Name's Whistler. Pleasure t'meet ya."

"I didn't tell you my name ye,." I said.

"Oh, I know your name, Anne. I know a lot about you. I know you were with the Watcher's in London for a couple years and I know about your little adventure last night," He said, as we started to walk.

"You've been watching me?" I asked him.

"In a way. I see things. I'm a worker for the Powers," He said.

"The Powers what?" I asked him, beyond confused at this point.

"The Powers That Be, you know, the big guys upstairs. They know all, see all, and occasionally fill me in on some of that all. Y'know, they're fate, destiny, past, future, and chance all wrapped into one. Kind of like a burrito..." He murmured.

We fell in step with each other, "So, what does this have to do with me?" I asked him.

He looked at me, his expression grave, "Everything, kid."

I just looked at him, not knowing what to say.

"Look, this world has been goin' down the crap-hole since 2000. Demons are getting more rowdy, they wanna make themselves known. The balance is uneven, has been for close to seven years now."

"Ok." I sighed, "Now how does this affect me?" I asked him.

"It's your job to stop all of this. You being here, you just gave this sorry world new hope, even if they don't know it. Basically, you restore the balance," He answered me.

"So, what do I do?" I asked him, not seeing the point in arguing.

"You fight, kid. Fight, live, just stay alive," He told me and I was sure that had some semblance, but I couldn't figure it out.

"Who do I fight?" I asked.

"The forces of evil, of course," He snickered.

"Of course. I don't know why I didn't see it," I muttered sarcastically.

He chuckled wryly, "You're a riot kid." Then he continued, "You know, you gotta fight demons. Vamps, Master vamps, uber-vamps. Morahs, Warlocks, Witches, Gods, Goddesses, the list could go on and on," He finished up.

I sat dumbfounded. I had thought that there were just vampires out there. But, now I am being told that there is very much more in this world than I could imagine. What am I supposed to make of this? We just walk around for a while. We say nothing, I'm just trying to let this information sink in.

"Do I fight alone?" I ask him.

He looks at me, shaking his head, "Nah. Not anymore ya don't. Those people you and the Watcher are living with, they'll help. Just let 'em get over the shock of seeing ya," He advised.

Why would they be shocked at seeing me? When I voice that question he laughs and shakes his head slowly, "You'll find out soon enough."

I sigh in frustration. He's telling me nothing. I take notice of my surroundings and see we're in downtown LA and that it has begun to get dark out. We had been walking around for hours.

"Yeah, shocks ya when time moves quicker than ya thought it was. Time will do that," Whistler mused as we twisted around corners and crept into alleyways.

"Where are we going?" I asked him.

"I'm going to show you what this world is like when the sun goes down." He told me, leading me into a club.

The walls were dark and almost looked like someone ad spread oil on them to make them shine and gleam with evil. The music pulsed and sweaty bodies grinded and pressed up against one another. I could smell sweat, exhilaration, and blood. I looked into the corner and saw vampires biting people. But, the people didn't look frightened or panicked. The looked like they wanted it. Whistler led me through the mass of bodies-dead and alive-to a small maze of stairs. We went up and up and I was shocked at what I saw. I saw humans and vampires, together. The vampires were seducing their preys and enticing them. The scent of sex, blood, and money was heavy in the room, I almost gagged. Two female vampires looked at me and growled invitingly. I snapped my head away from them and gazed at Whistler.

"What in God's name are we doing in this...this place?" I demanded him, feeling so uncomfortable at the vampires who were gazing at me like I was water to a dehydrated man...or blood to a starving vampire.

"This is like a whorehouse...only for vampires. Humans come here to pay for sex and to have their blood drank." Whistler explained, looking a bit ill himself.

"Why in the world would they do that?" I asked, my eyes widening at this place. It was like a nudist colony for vampires. Ugh.

"It's kind of like how junkies crave a fix. Kind of like how sky divers crave the thrill of knowing they just might crash into the ground. It's all gotta do with the thrill. Fear is a thrill," Whistler tried to explain.

"This is disgusting." I muttered.

"Hey, don't knock it till ya try it," A silky voice behind me said.

I turned around and saw myself face to face with a naked women...vampire. She pressed herself against me and kissed me. I tasted blood, salt, and ash. I gagged when she shoved her tongue in my mouth. I shoved her away and grabbed a stray piece of wood and pushed her up against the wall. I hated the feel of touching her naked flash.

"Ohh, you like it rough," She purred and my lips curled back in disgust.

I said nothing as I staked her. I felt physically sick as Whistler grabbed my arm and led my out of that place. I felt like vomiting, the taste of stale blood still lingering in my mouth.

"Oh God..." I moaned.

"Yeah, this is just one of the many evils in the world, kid," Whistler said as he patted my back gently.

"What time is it?" I asked him.

"Around ten-ish," He answered.

I looked up at him disbelievingly, "We've been out all day."

"I told you. Time's a tricky thing," He said cryptically.

How am I supposed to get back to the hotel, I thought.

"Five blocks north, then two west," Whistler told me, reading my mind.

"Great," I said and began to leave.

"You need anything, just look me up. Doyle knows where I am," He said and with a tip of his hat he was gone.

I ran the whole way back to the hotel, hoping I could sneak back inside. I felt in desperate need of a shower. My mouth tasted of sour copper and my body felt tight and dirty. I came in view of the hotel and ran around to the back, praying that the side door was unlocked. I entered quietly and turned around to shut the door. When I faced back to the room, I saw Angel standing there, glaring furiously.

"What the hell have you been?" He growled at me.

I scoff and walk past him, thinking I shouldn't have to explain anything to him. I make it to the lobby when he rushes after me and grabs my arm, pulling me to him.

"Where were you?" He demands again, making everyone look up at us.

"I don't have to answer to you!" I yell and try to yank my arm out of his grasp.

His grip is too tight and he stops for a moment, looking at me with wide eyes.

"You were at the Vampire House," He whispers.

"What?" I ask him, trying to get out of his hold.

"You were with the vampire whores," He says, his voice low and dangerous.

"What of it?" I ask.

"Who the fuck took you there?" He yelled.

"No one!" I scream, pushing him away from me.

"You answer me!" He shouted.

"Now Peaches..." Spike murmured trying to calm the enraged man.

"Stay out of this, Spike!" Angel growled.

"No, let them say something. Let them all tell me how disappointed and frustrated everyone is that I'm not some meek little mouse who will agree and do everything everyone says! Say it!" I screamed.

I don't know why I didn't just answer him. I didn't know why I had to make everything worse by screaming back.

"Where were you, Anne?" He asks me and I can tell he's trying to calm down.

"I don't have to tell you jack-squat," I retorted, my hands on my hips, "You don't own me. You can't tell me what to do! You don't even know me!" I yelled at him, silencing everyone in that damned room.

"While you are in *my* house, you *will* answer to me," Angel said slowly.

My mouth opened and my eyes narrowed.

*"You walk out of this house, don't even *think* about coming back!"*

"Then I'll leave," I said.

He was at loss of words, his mouth opening and closing.

"Little advice, mouth looks better closed," I sneered as I made my way upstairs.

"You can't leave," He finally sputtered.

"Why the bloody hell not? It's obvious that all of you don't want me here. So, I'll do you a favor and leave," I snapped.

"And, where would you go?"

Oh, he was getting cocky now, was he? Time to kick him off his little high horse.

"I could go back to London. At least they want me there...even if it is for atrocious reasons..." I muttered.

"Yeah, until they kill you." Angel sneered.

I just stared at him, "It'd be better than all of this." I said softly and then pounded up the stairs, not wanting to face anything anymore.

I reached my room and slammed the door shut, locking it. I felt so upset. My head was beginning to pound, my mouth still tasted of old blood, my skin felt icky, and my wrists were beginning to throb. I sat on the bed and peered at them. They were so small, like a little kid's wrist. I could see the whitened scar of where I had cut them. One was jagged and the other was rough, raised skin. The dull ache transfixed me. In a moment of weakness I had changed my skin, my body. It didn't really matter, it just bothered me. I fingered the raised skin absently and thought of my childish, rebellious behavior. I sighed, stood up, and went in the shower to attempt to wash the disgust off of my skin. I turned the water up to a scalding hot temperature and grabbed a loofah. I lathered it with body wash and scrubbed all over. I closed my eyes and scrubbed hard, hoping the filth I felt would go away. I didn't feel any cleaner. I just pain burning pain. I opened my eyes and was horrified to see blood swirling down the drain. I looked at the loofah and saw little bits of skin clinging to the fibers, the whole thing streaked with blood. I gasped and stumbled out of the showed, falling to the floor with a painful thump. I stared transfixed at the fallen loofah and the swirling blood. What had I done to myself? Now I'm convinced I'm insane, no buts about it. What kind of person would do this to themselves? A crazy person, that's who. Me. I felt tears prick my eyes...I hate this. I grabbed a robe that was hanging at and dabbed my face with it. I turned to the mirror and looked at myself. My cheeks were red and puffy, my eyes tired. I could see raw wounds on my arms and felt them on my back. I could feel the warm, sticky blood sliding down and I could smell the scent of bitter copper. I pulled the robe on and walked stiffly out of the room, freezing when I sensed someone in with me. I flicked on the light and Angel sat in the corner, his legs crossed, and his eyes dark.

"How did you get in here?" I asked him tiredly, standing awkwardly straight.

"I have a master key to all of the rooms," He answered me, looking at me.

A strange look came over his face, "You're bleeding," He said, concern etching his face.

"How do you know?" I ask.

"I can see it," He simply stated.

I looked down and saw blood running down my leg.

"I...uh, must have cut myself when I ran into the shower door." I lied, wishing he would leave.

"Can I... Let me see." He said getting up and walking to me.

He pulled down the back of my robe and let out a small gasp. He fingered the broken skin lightly and I winced.

"You didn't cut it...your skin looks...scrapped off." He whispered.

I shrugged out of his feather-light grasp and pulled my robe back up, walking toward my French door. I looked out into the star-filled sky.

"What happened?" He asked me, coming up behind me.

"I felt...dirty. That place, the vampire whore-house..." I whisper as I shuddered.

Angel placed his hands lightly on my shoulder and breathed my scent in.

"Why did you go there?" He asked me.

I shrugged, "Not like I planned on it. I had to meet with someone. They took me around this godforsaken town showed me how evil things could be," I answered softly.

"Who?"

"Whistler."

Angel chuckled softly, "Damn him. Don't know why I didn't see it."

"You know him?" I asked.

"A long time ago. He showed me my purpose."

"He seems to specialize in that," I murmured.

Angel moved away from me and went to putter around in my bathroom. I shivered and he came back.

"Lay on the bed and pull down your robe." He commanded softly.

I did it without question, if he tried anything funny I'd kill him. He straddled me, keeping his weight on his knees and off of me. He opened something and I could smell the scent of aloe and something medicinal. He placed his cool hands on my back and rubbed some lotion of that stung at first but quickly felt soothing.

"I'm sorry," He whispered, "For yelling at you."

"I'm sorry for acting like a brat," I muttered.

He chuckled and slowly got off of me, "It should heal pretty fast," He said.

I got up, clutching my robe. I nodded slowly, feeling awkward. He went towards the door and I watched him leave. He opened the door and was about to leave when he turned toward me and said softly, "Don't leave. Just stay here." And I could hear his unspoken, 'With me.' But, I was sure it was my imagination. I focused back on him and started to nod, but he was gone and my door was closed. I guess we were ok now. But, tomorrow, in the day, we'd probably fight and scream at each other and say things we would later regret but I was sure at night we would come to a truce and he would be kind and tender, in the night. But, whatever happens in the night...stays in the night. That much I know.

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

Part 8

Location- Unknown

Date: November 21st, 2006

--Transmission Status: Signal Connected--

Name-:Q. Travers

ID Number-:19-12-1-25-5-18:

-Have you found the girl?

*

Codename-:Lilac

ID Number-:6-9-14-14:

-Negative. We have word she is somewhere in the Los Angeles area.

*

Name-: Q. Travers

ID Number-:19-12-1-25-5-18:

-Find her, General. She is important to my plans and yours. You know the consequences if you don't.

*

Codename-:Lilac

ID Number-:6-9-14-14:

-Affirmative. We will capture her and you will give me what I want.

*

Name-: Q. Travers

ID Number-:19-12-1-25-5-18:

-Only if you bring her.

-Transmission Status: Signal Cut-

***

Location- Angel Investigations

Date: November 22nd, 2006

I awoke screaming, my head pounding and my sheets drenched in cold sweat. I can remember snippets of what went on while I was asleep. I had been falling. Falling, falling endlessly. Bright white filling my vision, invisible claws ripping me apart. I waited to slam into the unforgiving ground, but I never did. I just kept falling and it drove me crazy. In my dream, I could see my blood streaming out of me and everywhere. Above me, below me, on me. I just screamed at the pain and gruesome horror of it all. But, when I woke up, my screams were drowned out by the wails of a child in the downstairs lobby.

What a moment, a child? What in the devil was a child doing here? I got up and threw on a sweatshirt, pounding down the stairs. The screaming got louder and I watched from the landing as a little brown haired boy ran around, screaming his little head off.

"What the hell?" I muttered as I walked down, staring wearily at the boy.

Children scare me.

"Anne, glad to see you up on this fine morning," Anya boomed, making everyone look up at me.

I nodded slowly, still glancing at the sticky little boy.

"Why is there a little boy, running around the room, screaming?" I asked calmly, gripping the railing.

"Oh, he's Angel's kid. Connor. Real hyperactive little squirt," Xander answered, smirking at my uneasiness, "Welcome to our world."

I walked down the rest of the stairs and avoided the grape smelling boy. He had jelly all over him. Ewww..... I sighed softly as I made my way to the kitchen where Angel sat talking to a blonde. They didn't seem to notice me and I couldn't help but listen to them talk.

"Dammit Angel! Connor needs to live with both his mother and father!" The women yelled.

She looked strikingly familiar, but I couldn't place her.

"Darla..." He sighed, "We tried it before. It didn't work. It won't work."

"Darling, we can try harder. We were together for years. We can do it again," She purred, rubbing her hand on his arm, "For Connor."

I was sickened. For reasons I don't care to find out, but I was. I turned to leave and got away from the door before I froze. I was going to have one of the flashes again. Cold shivers flew up my spine. My vision grew dark and I saw a hazy figure which appeared to be a girl dressed in a school uniform. She had a hideous blonde mop of a head and there was something wrong with her face. Vampire...

*"Let's start with the kneecaps, no fun dancing without those."*

I could hear the ringing sound of gunshots. I had never heard gunshots before. A shot of terror pumped through me and all I could see was a blinking strobe light, someone shouting something.

And then I was back into reality. Everyone looking at me strangely and I chuckled slightly, slumping into the red couch. I waited until the aftereffect of the flash had worn off. They were getting stronger and stronger. I was able to make out pictures and feel emotions.

What was happening to me?

*

I had gone back up to my room and taken a shower, carefully avoiding the loofah sponge. I stepped put and toweled my hair dry, shrugging on a shirt and sliding on my jeans. I wandered into my kitchen and grabbed an apple I had taken from the main kitchen. I let out a small shriek when I saw a tiny bundle curled up in my blankets in my bed. I stalked toward it and uncovered the tiny bundle. There lay the tiny little boy that had been shouting all over the lobby this morning. I thought how cute he looked. He was still sticky and had gotten grape jelly all over my bed. I smiled softly looked out the window into the busy city. I sighed softly, not knowing what to do.

A little voice tugged me out of my thought, "Mama?"

I looked over at the little boy, smiling and crouching down next to him, "No, buddy. My name's Anne," I whispered.

He held out his small arms and said, "Up?"

I had no choice but to lift him up. He buried his head in my damp hair and I think he fell back asleep.

Now, what to do with him. What if I dropped him? What if I tripped? What if a demon came crashing into my room and I had to put him down and he got abducted, Angel would kill me! I sighed at my paranoia and walked out of my room, heading for the lobby. No doubt that Angel would be looking for his son. I walked down the stairs, my heart falling for the tiny bundle in my arms. He yawned and shifted slightly. And, I could literally feel my heart turn to mush. I shifted him in my arms and crossed the lobby, into the kitchen where I had seen Angel last. I heard him in the living room calling,

"Connor? Hide and seeks over, Daddy's getting worried..." He trailed off bending over to look under the couch.

"Ahem," I said softly, trying not to stare at his butt, "Looking for this?" I asked when he faced me, motioning to the sleeping bundle in my arms.

Angel smiled softly, as if seeing something incredible, "Where was he?" He asked quietly.

"My room. Found him all curled up in my bed. Thought you'd be the worried," I said, handing him his child.

He shook his head, "The master of hide and seek once again."

I smiled and turned to leave.

"Anne?" Angel asked softly, almost pleadingly.

I looked over at him, careful to keep emotions off of my face. If what I thought was happening was, I was falling for him. I couldn't allow that. Not now. Not for him.

"Yeah?"

"Could we...talk?" He asked, fidgeting.

He seemed nervous. Why? What in the world was wrong with him?

"Sure," I said following him deeper into the living room. He lay Connor on the couch, pulling a blanket over him.

"So, uh, what's the what?" I asked him, sitting Indian style on the couch facing Angel.

"I want to get to know you," He said.

I smiled and shook my head, and he smiled too, saying, "As corny as it sounds..."

"Well, what do you want to know?" I asked him, clasping my hands together.

"Your past..." He said, leaning back on the other couch.

I scoffed softly, "Or lack thereof!", I shook my head and went on, "Your request is vague. What do you want to know about my past? I mean, I don't know my mother or father, or that I even have them. I don't have memories beyond the age of ten. The only person I feel close to is Wes, he's been there. He knows me."

"I want to know you," Angel whispered and I knew he was serious.

"How can you when I don't even know myself?" I muttered softly.

I leaned back and fixated my eyes on the slumbering Connor, "Your child is a little darling."

He nodded, his finger brushing against Connor's soft hair, "Sometimes I can't believe he's real," He murmured.

"Why?" I asked him.

He look like a deer caught in headlights, his next words were picked carefully, he said, "I was told that I couldn't have children. And, here he is."

"Who is the mother?" I asked, even though I knew, "It's not Cordelia or Faith's... is he" I asked, not helping the grimace on my face at the thought of Faith and Angel. I don't know where it came from.

Angel let out a bark of laughter, "Cordelia?" He laughed harder, "You think Cordelia and I...? No, no, no, no. Cordelia is like my sister. And Faith... Let's not even go there. She and Spike are in love." He said, his twinkling brown eyes staring at me.

"Then who is the mystery woman?" I asked.

Angel sighed, deep and heavy, "Her name is Darla. She..." He sighed again, "We have a past. An ugly one. We've known each other for a long time. About three...four years ago, we had a one night stand. I was in a bad place for awhile and she was there. She disappeared for a few months and came back eight months later pregnant. It resulted in Connor. We tried to live together for the first years, but we just kept fighting. And, no one around here likes her so... She moved across town, took Connor and we have joint custody," Angel finished and I couldn't help but notice how relieved he looked to have let it out. I felt bad for him. To have a child with that...witch. Of course, I couldn't say anything because he'd learn I had been spying on him. He'd probably be mad and fighting would ensue.

"Well," I said, looking up at him, "Since you shared that with me, I'll share something with you. Ask away," I ordered ith a wave of my hand.

He seemed to be thinking for a moment, "Why were you with Quentin and the other Watchers?" He asked.

"I don't know." I simply said, "I woke up one day and there I was. Everyone was there, just staring at me. Like, I was the greatest accomplishment ever. Quentin is a monster. He treated me like a lab rat. All the six years I was there, he did nothing but experiments on me. Endurance, survival, health. You name it, he probably tried it. There were only two people there for me. Wes and Ginny. Wes was always the protective one. Always looking out for me, making sure Quentin never went too far. And Ginny... Ginny was like a sister. Or the closest thing to a Mom as I was ever going to get. They were my family. See, I wasn't allowed out of the compound, not even out of my room half the time. The staff got to leave on weekends and Ginny would always leave and bring me something from town. She made everything bearable. She was my anchor," I said, looking down at my pale hands. I felt hot tears burn my eyes and I swiped at them angrily, no doubt smearing my makeup.

"What happened to her?" Angel asked softly.

I shrugged, "She left after two years. I suppose she tried to get me out and Quentin 'disposed' of her."

Angel sighed, angrily, "What did they do to you?" He asked his eyes searching.

"You don't want to know. Ask Wes. He knows everything," I said getting up and leaving the tension filled room.

I couldn't talk anymore. The wall I had built around myself was about to come crashing down and then I would be vunerable. I couldn't have that.

That couldn't happen.

*

I took a nap because after me 'heart-to-heart' with Angel, I felt exhausted. I wandered downstairs around six and saw that they had all ordered pizza.

"Annie, rise and shine, chick," Xander boomed when I grabbed a piece and a can of Coke. He had been getting more and more open as the days went on.

"We looked in on ya and you were sleeping like a baby," Faith cooed, pinching my cheeks.

"Stop!" I whined, pulling away from her, trying to eat my food. I picked off the onions and took a bite, feeling the hot cheese burn my tongue.

"I have a question?" I said.

"Shoot," Faith said through a mouthful of food.

"Can I go to school?" I asked.

Faith and Xander shared a look and started to laugh, "You actually want to go to school?"

"I'm glad you find that amusing," I said dryly, and then nodded, "Yes. I am sick of being cooped up in here all day, everyday. You people are insane and are driving me mad," I said sweetly.

Faith threw her napkin at me, smirking.

"Anne, I think that's a wonderful idea," A new voice cooed.

It was Willow. Darn, she's back.

"I'm glad you think so," I said coolly.

"Whoa, is it me, or did it just get really cold in here?" Xander muttered.

Willow smiled coolly and went back to typing on the computer. I rolled my eyes and looked at Wesley who was talking to the other man, I learned his name was Rupert Giles, and I asked, "Wes, what do you think?"

"I think that's a good idea, Anne," He said, smiling, and then going back to talking with Rupert.

"What's a good idea?" Angel asked, coming into the room, holding Connor.

"Anne going to school," Xander said, sharing another look with Faith.

Angel's eyes twinkled, "School? Are you sure?" His voice was dripping with amusement.

"What is so difficult to comprehend about me going to school? You think I can't do it?" I demanded, my hands on my hips.

"It's not that... It's, you actually want to go to school. With books, teachers, and the whole learning thing?" Xander asked, smiling.

I sighed exasperatedly, "It's better than being stuck here with all of you lunatics!"

Faith and Xander laughed, and I was getting miffed. Why did they keep laughing at me? Was it amusing to them? Well, I would show them! I would go to school, like it, and pass all my classes.

An hour and a big discussion about who's last name I would take later, I was enrolled into Hemery High School. By tomorrow morning, Angel's friend, Doyle whom I had yet to meet, would contact Whistler and I would get a background. My new full name was Anne Elisabeth Reynolds. Faith had let me 'borrow' her last name. Because I was sixteen, I would start as a sophomore. I couldn't wait. Angel would drop me off in the morning and Spike and Faith would pick me up. Tomorrow, I would start a new part of my life as Anne Reynolds.

*

-Transmission Status: Signal Connected-

Codename-:Lilac

ID Number-:6-9-14-14:

-I have word that she will be starting school at the high school.

*

Name-:Q. Travers

ID Number-:19-12-1-25-5-18:

-Good work, General. I want you to get a job where you will be close to her. Gain her trust, do what you have to, to bring me the girl. Don't reveal yourself to whomever she is with.

*

Codename-:Lilac

ID Number-:6-9-14-14:

-Of course. I will contact you with a report soon.

*

Name-:Q. Travers

ID Number-:19-12-1-25-5-18:

-No. If you ever contact me again, I will kill you. You aren't irreplaceable. Remember that, General.

--Transmission Status: Signal Cut--

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

Part 9

I was restless all night. I had persuaded Faith to take me slaying to let out some of the nervous tension I was feeling. It worked for awhile, but Angel called Faith's cell phone around one and demanded that she bring me home. She did and then yelled at him for berating her about 'putting me in danger'.

"Damn it, Angel, she can take care of herself!"

"I don't want her getting hurt! She cannot patrol without me, goddamnit!" Angel argued, his voice sharp and forbidding.

"Don't you dare talk to me like that, Angel!" Faith screamed, her face getting red and her eyes turning dark, "Don't talk of getting hurt and being 'safe', because we both know there's no such thing. Sheltering her will only make everything worse, in the long run."

I watched from the landing as they fought, circling each other, but never laying a hand on one another. Their stances were threatening and cautious to make anyone want to go near them. But, I could see that they would never hurt each other, for some odd reason.

"Don't worry 'bout them." A smooth voice purred behind me.

I tuned to se Spike watching them as well, "They always fight like this at least once a month. It's like an unwritten rule."

I sighed softly, because it was *me* they were fighting about.

"Don't worry. If they ain't fighting about you, they'll fight about something else. The chairs, me, magic, even bloody breakfast for Gods sakes. They're like brother and sister." He shrugged.

We just stood there for a moment and then I looked at him, he looked back. Should I...?

"Spit it out, blondie."

"What?" I asked.

"You wanna ask me something, ask away." He said, taking a drag of his cigarette.

"Ok. This Buffy girl, the one that no one will talk about…you know her, right?" I asked him, leaning against the railing.

He looked at me, his brows raised, "Yeah, I 'knew' her. Why?"

"Willow said something about bringing her back, what did she mean?" I asked.

Spike sighed and itched his head slowly, "Willow's a witch. Buffy and Willow were friends, best of, I believe. When Buffy died, Willow went off the deep end. She was obsessed with bringing her back, so she delved deeper and deeper into the black magic's. It got out of hand and all of us just ignored her. Thought if the bloody lot of us didn't notice it, it'd go away. She took advantage of that and she rose the dead. She brought Buffy back, but it wasn't Buffy. Fooled us for awhile, though. Acted like her, looked like her, hell, she was even bitchy like her. But, we all soon found out that she was nothing but a soulless shell of whatever she used to be. We had to kill her...it." He sighed, closing his eyes, "I'll never forget it, I was the one who found her. She was in the cemetery, *eating* someone. She was a goddamned zombie! Willow brought her back as a fucking zombie! Blood on her lips, flesh in her teeth. Her eyes were black, malicious." He shook his head hard, "Willow went over the edge that day. If she could do that to her bloody 'best-friend', no telling what she'll do to someone she hates…" Spike murmured.

"Why Spike…" A smooth, cold voice purred, "It isn't nice to air out other people's dirty laundry…" The voice scolded.

We turned and saw none other than Willow standing behind us, her eyes angry and her lips stretching into a sneer.

"And, it ain't nice to eavesdrop either… Guess we ain't nice people, now are we?" Spike smirked, his ice blue eyes glittering dangerously towards the red head.

"Oh, but you shouldn't tell little 'Anne' such bad things like that. Might corrupt her pretty little mind…" Willow hummed, reaching out to push my hair out of my face. Her nails scraped my cheek with a stinging pressure.

I jerked back and slapped her hands away, "Don't touch me." I snapped, glaring at her.

She scoffed, her eyes darkening and then said in a sickeningly sugar sweet voice, "Have a 'wonderful' day at school tomorrow…" Then turned on her heel and left.

I sighed softly and noticed that the yelling from downstairs and I leaned over the railing and wondered aloud, "Did they kill each other or what?"

"It's a possibility…" Spike mused, heading down to the lobby.

I yawned followed Spike. I thought that if I had gotten a drink of warm milk or something, that'd help me fall to sleep. Spike veered off in search of Faith. I jumped slightly when I saw Angel sitting at the table nursing a cup of coffee. He jaw was tight and his eyes slightly glazed.

"Don't mind me…" I said softly, inching towards the fridge, "Can't sleep…" I murmured nervously, glancing behind me, "Just trying to get some warm milk…" I finished opening the fridge door and getting what I needed.

The silence was deafening. I could hear my own breathing and the rattling of the glasses and it was driving me insane. I sighed harshly, then blushed when it seemed to echo in the high ceilings. I heated my milk and leaned against the counter. Angel was looking at me with dark eyes.

"What?" I asked him.

He shrugged and shook his head, "Nothing.", his voice slightly curt and abrupt.

He was angry with me, again. I scoffed and rolled my eyes, pouring my milk into a glass and heading out. He wants to be an ass, fine with me.

"Good night, Angel." I said over my shoulder.

He gave a slight nod and I shook my head, walking to my room. The milk did the trick, it knocked me out cold. Which may or may not have been a good thing...

*

*The darkened sky was lit with horrifying screams and zapping bolts of lightening that killed and destroyed. Howls and shrieks of demons filled my ears and made my stomach twist in fear. The high winds blew my hair around and made it whip my face painfully. I could see the dead town from where I was standing, but, where was I? I looked around and saw a young girl strapped to the bars of the platform I was on and I could see she was bleeding. She moaned and said something to me, but I heard nothing except the screams and howling of the winds in my rushing ears. I felt myself step toward her and let her loose from the ropes that held her. A blazing light lay, blazing with buzzing energy, beneath us. I stared at it, transfixed. How could something so deadly look so inviting and alluring? I tore my gaze away from the portal and to the girl. She looked at me with pleading eyes, begging me to do…something. God, I don't know what she wants me to do! She started to run away from me and to the end of the platform.

She was going to jump.

I grabbed her and yelled, "Dawn, what are you doing?!"

I didn't know her name was Dawn. I don't know her. Why am I saving her?

"I have to jump, you know I have too." She sobbed.

I could here her voice this time, faintly in the din of screaming and screeching.

"You know I have too. It wants the blood, it has to have the blood." She moaned.

I flashed to what looked like Spike saying, "It's always about the blood."

And then me, "It's Summers blood, it's just like mine."

And Dawn, her arms cut and bleeding crimson red, "Is this real?"

I saw Angel, through a hazing glaze, his face deformed and his face covered in blood, my blood.

Some kind of realization came over me and I looked at the young girl in front of me.

I know I said something, but I don't know what I said. All I drew up was a blank, but, what I said made the girl cry harder, her eyes tearing and droplets streaking down her cheeks. She tried to stop me, but I pushed her slightly and started to run. Everything went in slow motion as I got closer and closer to the edge of the platform. My spread my arms out and gracefully leapt off of the edge, feeling the air and energy whoosh around me. The shining portal looks inviting as I fall closer to it. I can feel the energy calling out to me, tempting me with its beautiful glow. I am in it, can feel it. It courses through me and I scream.

Loud.

Painfully.

I think I'm dying.*

*

I'm cold and something is gripping me with bruising hands. I scream and thrash about, panicking. Cold air whips around me and I open my eyes to see the ground far beneath me. I scream again and hit the hand that's holding me. I start to fall and the hand catches me, with a grunt. It pulls me up and I land hard.

"Bloody fucking hell, what were you doing up there?" A voice demands and I raise my eyes to see Spike looming over me, his ice blue eyes glittering in the pale light.

"Wha...What?" I gasp through my hard breathing and look at my surroundings. I'm on my balcony. I have no clue how I got here. I look into my rooms and see my French doors open wide and the sheer curtains billowing in the harsh breeze.

"I don't know..." I murmur, feeling so disoriented, "What are you doing out here?" I demand.

"I was out taking a smoke and I saw you from my room, standing on the ledge like a bloody idiot, about to jump off. You were murmuring something? Were you dreaming?" He asked.

"I don't remember..." I said slowly, trying to think of my horrifying dream.

I couldn't recall it. But, I don know that I did something, important.

Inside of my room, my alarm clock blared and I raced inside to turn it on. Spike flipped on the overhead lights and studied me.

"You're gonna catch your death, you know? Better put on something warm before you freeze your bloody ass off." He murmured, shaking his head, and walking out.

I look in the mirror and saw that I was deathly pale and my fingertips and lips were tinted blue. I shivered and dressed in kakis, a maroon shirt, and my pullover jacket. I was still cold though. I pulled up my unruly hair and put on some makeup to hide the fact I was very pale. I shoved my hands in my pockets and went downstairs. The kitchen light was on and I saw Angel feeding Connor a bottle. I walked in, went to the refrigerator, and grabbed a bottle of water and a made myself some toast. Connor cooed when he saw me and I smiled over at him.

"Hey baby." I smiled and kissed his cheek.

Connor cringed and wiped his cheek, murmuring, "Cold."

I smiled sheepishly and burrowed deeper into my coat, turning and grabbing a cup of coffee. It was horrible, but warm. Angel grabbed my hand lightly and turned me to him. He felt my fingers and brushed his other hand along my cheek.

"You're freezing." He murmured.

I found myself staring into his hypnotic eyes, "I left the terrace doors open last night, didn't know it'd get so cold…" I whispered.

He left his fingers lightly tracing my cheek and I breathed softly. There was a moment going on here. I didn't know what would happen. Would he kiss me? Did I want him to kiss me? What would I do if he did? Oh my God, I think I forgot how to breathe… He seemed to be leaning down and I stood, nonmoving, waiting for whatever was about to happen.

Connor started to shriek in his chair and bang his bottle on the table. I jumped and stumbled back slightly. Angel turned to his son and I let out a whoosh of air. I felt light headed, which might be from the lack of air, and I could feel my heart thudding in my chest. I turned to the counter and grabbed my water, shoving it in my bag and going into the lobby, fleeing the tension filled room.

Angel had been about to kiss me.

And, I had wanted him too.

A lot.

*

The ride to the school was awkward and silent. I looked out the window and avoiding any contact with Angel. Something between us made the air hum with an electrical charge. As soon as the car was stopped, I jumped out and glanced over my should at him,

"Don't let Faith and Spike forget to pick me up." I reminded him, slightly in awe at the play of the early morning sun shining on his pale face.

*"I'm not the one who gets to see you in the sun…"*

I shook my head slightly and shrugged deeper into my coat, walking briskly into the building, the clacking over my boots echoing behind me. I found the main office and got my schedule. I glanced at it and walked into my first class, which was English Lit. Not many people were in the class so it wasn't awkward. There was a small group of three girls in the back and the middle smiled at me, in a friendly way.

"You're the new girl?" She asked.

I nodded, setting down my things and leaning on my desk, "Yeah. My name's Anne." I said, giving them a small smile.

"I'm Jessa." She said, smiling brightly, showing a row of perfect white teeth. She had raven black hair and diamond blue eyes, which sparkled as she smiled. Her face was lightly tanned and she wore glittery makeup, accenting her high cheek bones, full lips, and elliptical eyes.

"Nice to meet you." I said politely, smiling back.

"You got a British accent?" The girl behind her asked.

She had a pale face, with full red lips standing out slightly. Her eyes were small and a pale hazel color. Her hair was a light brown with red streaks running through it. Her eyes were lined with black and her fingers sparkling with rings.

"Yes. I grew up in London." I said slowly, choosing how much to reveal.

"That is so cool. I wish I had an accent, what I would give…" She murmured.

I chuckled a bit and looked to the other girl who regarded me with a with a shielded expression. Her hair was a shocking white blonde color, her eyes dark brown, what a deep contrast which highlighted her small face. She had a small nose, aslant eyes, and smooth lips.

"I'm Aurelia." She said in a smooth voice, her eyes gleaming with suspicion and curiosity, "So, why'd you leave London for LA?" She asked me, judging my reaction and response.

How was I to answer this?

I sighed slightly, smiling tightly, "Family problems." I answered softly.

"Huh." She said softly, seeming to mentally note everything I did and said. "Who was the hottie you drove up with?" Jessa asked, her eyes glittering mischievously.

"Angel. Family friend." I answered shortly, wondering why they wanted to know about him.

"Where do you live?" The girl with the red streaks asked.

I stared at her, trying to remember her name.

She giggled softly and shook her head, "Sorry. Name's Lorraine. People call me Rain."

"You know the old Hyperion Hotel?" I asked them and I watched as their eyes clouded over, "I live there."

They were speechless for a moment and then they all started talking and vaguely reminded me of tittering birds fighting over a tiny bread crumb.

"You live there?!"

"Are you serious? I heard it was haunted…"

"What about the vampires?"

The last question startled the rest of them to silence. It was Aurelia who had spoken, her russet eyes studying me carefully. I let a slow almost silly smile cross my face.

What could they possibly know about this?

"Vampires?" I asked, making my voice skeptical and disbelieving, "You're joking, right?"

"You don't know?" Jessa asked, her face twisting into a mixture of emotions.

"I don't know if we should tell her…" Rain asked, twisting a strand of fire engine red nervously in her fingers.

"A lot of people around here like to live in their own little fantasy world, where nothing can touch them. All the unpleasantness doesn't reach them. Like when someone dies mysteriously, drained of blood, pinprick holes in their neck or wrist. But some people *do* see, we know. It's vampires, they're here. They stay underground and wait until sundown before they come up, killing and maiming." Aurelia said quietly, her eyes glittering.

I forced a laugh and smile, "Vampires don't exist."

Aurelia looked at me, her eyes boring into mine, her bottom lip quivering ever so slightly, "You want a piece of advice, don't go out after dark. Crazy things happen in that old hotel, I'd be careful if I were you." She warned, her voice full of pain and knowing.

I just looked at her, wondering what had happened to make her so wise and scared at the same time. What had happened to scar her eyes? To make them marred and stained?

The thought haunted me all thought class and after, where she carefully avoided me and rushed to the door.

Jessa and Rain just stared at me from a distance, wondering what I was thinking and what I knew.

I felt for them, but I couldn't help wonder what they would think themselves if they heard my story?

*

I went through the motions of school on automatic the rest of the day, until the last hour. Which was Art, actually painting. I glanced skeptically around the room. I had never painted in my life, except with Quentin made me finger paint my thoughts. Weird, I know. I sipped my Pepsi and gazed in awe at some of the beautiful paintings on the walls.

"Are you Anne?" A voice asked me.

I turned around and saw a friendly looking man standing behind me. He had blue eyes and dark blonde hair that just brushed his ear tips. He smiled at me and I saw he was gazing at me, as if in a trace.

"Yes, are you the teacher?" I asked him.

"Hm? Oh, yes. I'm Mr. Finnegan, Rye Finnegan." He said a bit nervously.

Maybe he was shy…? But, then I wondered why he had introduced himself with his first name…none of the other teachers had done that.

"It's nice to meet you." I said, the looked around, "Do we have assigned seats or what?"

"Sit wherever you like." He offered, smiling slightly.

When the rest of the class had filed in, he explained that the project we were to be working on was painting something within our mind. I cringed at that. But, it wasn't hard or confusing. All I had to do was close my mind and let thought come to me. I saw the shadow of a mother that I had never known, the ghost of a love that I could almost touch, but was always too far away, and a past that was such a fog of confussion and pain. Before I knew it, I had a canvas placed before me, a paint brushe dipped in black paint clutched in my hand. Within the hour, I came out of a trance when someone placed a soft hand on my now bare shoulder, I had shed my coat sometime while I had been drawing.

I saw Mr. Finnegan standing beside me, gazing at me work so far. I was shocked to see what I had done. In the top right corner, I saw an outline of a women, just there enough to make out the barest features of her. It suggested a full figure, bouncy hair, and two children clinging to her hands. In the middle, there was some kind of…portal, a man in the middle, his features agonized and tormented. I could see something protruding from his abdomen, and a demonic face behind him. There was something hauntingly familiar about him, and the situation. I could feel vauge terror throbbing in my chest.

"What is this?" Mr. Finnegan asked, his blue eyes clouded by something wheil his gaze ticked from me to the drawing.

"I-I don't know…" I murmured, studying it.

In the bottom corner, I could see the beginning of some kind of structure, high in the clouds and seeming to loom out of the canvas.I knew what that was, I knew that platform. It was what I had dreamed about last night. For a moment, I was taken back there where I could feel the chilling wind and hear the high screams of demons and humans alike.

What in the world was going on in my head?

Oh God, what's happening to me?

"I don't know!" I snapped, my voice edging on hysterical, at Mr. Finnegan who still stood there.

I grabbed my things and rushed out of the room, pushing the doors open and practically running to the parking lot where Faith and Spike sat on the hood, bickering about something.

I didn't say much as we pulled out, just stared outside where seagulls flew overhead, searching for food and crumbs.

*"Mommy, they're hungry… Can I give them more?"

"Sweetie, eat your sandwich, the birdies will find more food.

In my mind I could see a man with sandy blonde hair walking in front of me, he turned and smiled at me.

"I'll race you." He teased and started to run. I went after him, as fast as my little legs would go.

"Hank, stop it! She'll fall!" The women yelled behind us.

I tried to go faster, to catch up with him, but I couldn't. I felt something scrape my legs and all I saw was the hard ground rushing up to meet me.

*

I could feel hysteria growing inside me as I snapped back to reality and sunk into my seat with despair as I thought I was truly going insane…

*

Transmission Status: Signal Connected-

Name-:Q. Travers

ID Number-:19-12-1-25-5-18

-Have you any word?

Codename-:Lilac

ID Number-:6-9-14-14:

-I have made contact. She is as you described, very cautious and suspicious.

Name-:Q. Travers

ID Number-:19-12-1-25-5-18

-Weave yourself into her trust circle, eliminate her allies and make her turn to you, General.

-Transmission Status: Signal Cut-

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

(Ohhh, we're in double digits, now. I just wanna say that, in this part, Anne/Buffy may seem a little suicidal, she's not, really. She's just had a really bad day, lol. Thanks to-Christine, Rain, SCWLC, Laura, Hannabee, and Shahid. I've now posted every part on ff.net,so if you've missed any part, head on over there! lol, Enjoy!)

Part 10

I kept busy when I got home. I didn't want to think of the painting, the memories, or anything. I just wanted to lose myself in something so it would keep my mind off of everything. I walked like a zombie into the hotel and was oblivious to everyone and everything. Except Angel, who I saw gaze at me from his office. Didn't he ever go to sleep? I noticed Connor was gone and assumed his mother came and picked him up. Stupid witch… The phone was ringing annoyingly and I noticed Cordelia was not there to answer it, which I thought was strange because she seemed to take so much pride in answering the phone. She would practically bite anyone who tried to answer it before her, which was kind of funny. But now, it was still ringing and no one was going to answer it and it was giving me a headache.

"Hello?" I snapped into the phone.

I heard a sharp intake a breath, but no one said anything. That bothered me, making me angrier.

"Is anyone there?" I asked, sighing silently, this day was beginning to seem hellish.

"I-I…" The voice stuttered, then they cleared their throat, "I think I called the wrong number, I needed Angel Investigations…but I don't think this is it." They babbled, it was a girl.

"No, you've got the right number, is there anyone you need to speak to?" I asked, leaning on the desk.

"I need to speak to Angel, tell him that its Dawn…can I ask who this is?" They, Dawn, asked.

Dawn…

Dawn…

I knew that name…

"This is Anne. Hold on a minute…" I murmured, then looked at Angel, and yelled, "Angel!"

He looked up sharply and seemed to relax when he saw me on the phone. He gave me a questioning look.

"You have a phone call!"

I felt foolish screaming all the way across the room but I didn't know how to transfer calls.

He nodded and picked up his own phone. His expression became weary and he glanced at me. He then turned away from me, talking intensely.

I shook my head, not knowing or caring what the hell was going on. I need a nice long nap. I walked tiredly up the flights of stairs for which seemed like forever. I wonder if they have an elevator. I entered my apartment and just stood there staring at the closed French doors. In my minds eyes, I could see the ground below me, he portal gleaming invitingly, the girl bleeding before me.

"Stop it!" I screamed, willing and pleading the images to stop.

The edges of sanity seemed to blur in my mind and in a hysterical rage, I threw my backpack at the wall and heard the crash it made. Everything on that wall fell and smashed to pieces. Pictures, vases, and shelves hit the ground and I covered my ears. I opened my eyes and saw the hole in the wall. The glass on the ground sparkled in the afternoon light. I closed and locked my door, hoping no one had heard that. I needed Wes. I needed him to tell me that I wasn't insane, but he had been busy ever since we had come here. I sighed shakily and started to pick up the glass, not caring that some of it cut and lodged it into the flesh of my palms. Nor did I care about the blood that was dripping everywhere, making crimson splotches everywhere it fell.

The thought of just ending it all forced itself into my mind, but I quickly pushed it away. I had tried that before, but it didn't work. I remember the blood on the pallid tile floors, the way it had brought gruesome color into my bleak world.

No.

That would be weak, and I hadn't survived years of a white walled hell just to kill myself when I was out and free. That would be stupid and I was neither stupid nor weak. I threw out the glass and walked out onto the balcony. I saw a cherry red convertible pull up and a blond lady with a small child walk out and into the hotel. Curiosity got the better of me and I went downstairs, forgetting about my bloody, glass splintered hands. I saw the women walk in, clutching the boys hands. The boy was Connor and the woman was none other than Darla. A flash of something that I didn't want to recognize went through me; jealousy.

"Angelus!" She yelled, her voice booming and echoing off the high walls and ceilings.

Angel rushed out, confused, "What are you doing here? Is Connor alright?" He asked, checking his little boy.

I couldn't help but find it adorable.

"Daddy!" Connor exclaimed when Angel lifted him up.

"What are you doing here, Darla?" Angel asked, his voice low.

I watched from the landing as she smiles saucily at him, "My dear boy, can't I spend some time with the father of my baby boy?" She purred.

Angel pushed her away gently and sighed, "Darla, what is it?"

She pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes, "Last night I was putting Connor to bed and he started to cry and scream about some women named 'Anna'. Is there a new women in your life, Angel? I donut want my son exposed to that."

Angel just glared at her, "Are you implying that you will take my son away from me?" He growled.

She laughed, "Not at all, darling. I don't want my son to see a woman with his Father except him Mother. I don't think it's too much to ask."

Her lips were stretched back into a self-satisfied smirk, knowing that if Angel did not do what she wanted, she would take away his son. I saw right through her and I fumed. What kind of Mother would to that?

"So, you're saying that if Angel doesn't take your skank ass back, you'll take away his little boy? What kind of Mother are you?" I demanded coming down the stairs.

Both parents turned to see me. Angel looked panicked for a moment, Darla looked like she was seeing a ghost, then started to laugh.

"Oh… Oh my God, this is great…" She laughed and sauntered over to me.

"Angel what is this?" She demanded. "You brought back your little cheerleader? Little Buffy the Slayer? How's it feel to be back among the living?" She sneered.

"Darla!" Angel warned.

"I don't know what the hell your talking about." I smirked and stuck out my hand, "Name's Anne. It's not so nice to meet you."

She laughed her throaty little laugh again, and looked at Angel, "What the hell is going on?"

Connor noticed me and wriggled out of his Father's hold, "An-na!" He ran up to me and wrapped his hands around my legs, almost making us toppled us over.

If looks were knives, I would be dead and bloody on the floor, from the glares I was getting from Darla's ice blue eyes.

"Connor, come here." She snapped and fumed when Connor buried his face deeper in my kakis and shook his head.

"Damn it Angel!" She yelled, "I will not let you let this cheerleader take my place! I am Connor's Mother!"

"I never said you weren't and I'm not trying to take your place." I said calmly, "I'm just wondering what kind of Mother would threaten to take their son away from their Father unless he let you back into his bed."

Her mouth dropped open at the realization that I had basically called her a slut, she rushed to me and slammed her fist into my face.

"You stupid bitch!" She hissed as I fell backwards, unprepared for her to hit me. Connor fell with me and I gently pushed him away and out of his Mother's target of wrath.

I got back up and my hair fell into my face, "You wanna hit me again? Come on," I paused, "Bitch."

She let out a cry of fury and advanced on me again. I held up my fist prepared to strike her first when Angel came into the middle and I struck him in the side, right on his ribs. He sucked in a sharp breath and glared at both of us.

"Stop it right now." He barked, "You," He said, facing Darla, "She was holding Connor. What if you had hit him? Huh?" He demanded.

She seemed to shrink back and glared daggers at me. "She… Didn't you hear her, the little bitch!" Darla hissed.

"Stop!" He roared, then turned to me, "I'll deal with you later." He hissed and led Darla and Connor into his office. I could see them yelling and Connor playing on Angel's desk.

I rubbed my sore jaw and clenched my fists, feeling the splintered glass of it deeper. I let out of a small hiss and threw a punch at the wall behind me.

"Agh!" I screamed, punching it again and again watching the dry wall and wallpaper crumble off. When I had made a fairly decent hold and my knuckles were bloodied and raw, I ran upstairs, not going up to my room. I walked the long hallways and into some dusty unused ones. I found door at the end of one and entered it. There was a small stairway leading up. I followed it, not caring where I went. I had to open another door and found myself on a small Widows Walk. I walked out to the end and shivered at the cool wind that attacked me. I could see miles into the city; all the lights and roads. I wrapped my arms around myself and leaned over the edge, my heart starting to race at the prospect of falling.

*The wind whipped around me painfully, I could feel the pulsing on the portal. It called to me, beckoned me.

'Everyone you love dies…do you want to be responsible again?'

I could feel the burn of tears, see the image of the curly haired women dead on the couch, see the image of a dark haired girl falling off a rooftop and into a truck bed, blood pooling on her belly.

It called to me.

'It's your turn now…'

*

I could feel myself leaning over the edge of the railing, farther and farther. Though, it was some sort of hallucination, I could still feel the power of the portal.

"No… Go away…" I whispered as I stood upright again, closing my eyes, "Go away."

"Is that really what you want?"

I turned around and saw Angel closing the door, staring at me.

"Depends." I shrugged, "You going to lecture me?"

He leaned against the door and crossed his arms, "No, I'm not."

"And the surprises keep on coming." I murmured dryly, carefully leaning against the railing, "What do you want, Angel?"

"You shouldn't have jumped in the middle of Darla and I." Angel said, his eyes dark.

"Wasn't planning on it." I shrugged, "But, she threatened to take your son away, what kind of person is she?" I asked, scoffing.

"I wonder that sometimes too. Darla and I have a very long and tainted past. We were together at one time and she wants it like that again, using Connor as an excuse." He said, his voice pained and soft.

"If she's threatening to take away your son, how do you know she won't?" I asked him, hating the other blonde more and more.

Angel sighed, "It's an old argument between us. We weren't together, as a couple, when Connor was made. We didn't expect him at all, but we both love him very much. Darla is a good mother to him, despite how she acts to others. She won't take him away from me, because she knows if she does, I will hunt her down and I will kill her." Angel warned, his voice all serious, not joking at all.

I kind of laughed, "You've had experience with this before?" I asked him.

"What?"

"Killing people?"

He doesn't answer and I want to take it as a no. He's not a killer. I sigh and rub my hands together, I wince. They're still cut and stiff with dry blood.

"You're hurt." Angel says, coming forward, into the sunset light and takes my hands, gently probing them. I suck in a breath when he starts to rubs his thumbs in soothing circular motions.

"You said you weren't with Darla when you had Darla, why would you sleep with her if you weren't together?" I asked softly.

He gazed at me and I thought he wasn't going to answer me, but he did. "I was in a bad state. She was there."

"Were you grieving?" I asked, my voice above a whisper.

He shook his head, "Not then…"

He started to lean down and I held my breath, anticipating what was going to happen. I could feel his breath on my lips and smell his aftershave. My heart raced and my eyes were wide. It seemed to go in slow motion. His hand slipped around me to pull me closer and then under my tank top. His lips about to touch mine when…

"Angel!"

We both jumped apart when the door flew open and Faith stood there, her lips stretching into a cocky grin.

"Interrupting anything?" She smirked.

"Faith." His voice was rough and his eyes dark, "What do you want?"

"Dawn's here." She said, looking back and forth between us.

I stood frozen. He was about to kiss me, again. Oh my God, would we ever finish it?

Angel glanced back at my quickly and then went downstairs.

"Did you an Angel kiss?" Faith asked.

I glared at her, "We were about too… You couldn't have waited five more minutes?" I asked, still feeling his cool hand pressed on my bare back.

She laughed as we descended down the stairs.

*

Faith and I made a stop at my room before we went downstairs. I washed my hands and put on a sweatshirt. I came out of the bedroom and saw her staring at the assassination I had done to the wall.

"What the fuck happened here?" Faith asked.

"Had a bad day."

I answered, shrugging on my sweat shirt walking over to her. Faith grabbed me by the chin and held the side of my face to the light.

"Who the hell decked you?" She demanded, a protective, big-sister like tone coming into her voice.

"Darla." I answered, my voice dripping with disdain.

"That bitch was here? I would have killed her." Faith said, letting me go and walking out the door.

"I was going too, but I accidentally punched Angel instead." I said a bit guiltily.

We were silent until we came to the landing where we hear yelling.

"Dawn, calm down!"

"Calm down? You tell me that my sister is alive and you want me to calm down, goddamn Angel!" A girl screamed.

From where I was, I could see that she had short golden brown hair and was pretty tall. Faith led me down there and we watched the girl.

"Why didn't anyone tell me?" The girl, Dawn, asked.

Angel sighed "It's not how you think. She's not the same person she's sixt-"

Faith cleared her throat loudly, causing everyone to turn at us.

The girl turned slowly and looked at me, "Oh my God… Buffy?"

I took a step back, shaking my head. That was the second time someone had called me by that name. Why were they calling me that a dead girl's name? Why?

The girl turned to Willow and screamed, "What did you do this time?!" Willow seemed to care for this girl, "Dawn… I didn't… Not this time."

"Liar!"

"Lit'le bit, stop it." Spike said, coming forward and taking the girl into his arms.

I looked at Faith to see her reaction at Spike embracing this girl. She looked sad, but not angry.

"Why?" The girl, Dawn, cried, "Why isn't it her?"

She was taking about me, what did she mean? I didn't want to find out so I ran upstairs and slammed my door. I didn't want to know, I didn't want to know anything. I jumped in the shower and tuned on the water so every trace of the crying girl was drowned out by the water.

*

Hours later, I had fallen asleep, hair wet and the sheets twisted around my legs. Even in my sleep, I felt the bed dip under foreign weight and something stroked my face. I awoke slowly, my eyes bleary and my mind disoriented. I looked up slowly to see Angel sitting by me, his hand on my face. I glanced over to the clock and saw it was a little past two in the morning.

"Angel? What's wrong?" I asked, sitting up.

Angel shook his head, "Nothing."

"Why are you here?" I asked him, pushing my hair out of my face.

"I just…needed to see you." He whispered.

I smiled a little, "Why?"

"You haunt me." He answered tenderly.

That kind of shocked me, but I still smiled.

"How do I haunt you?" I asked him.

"I can't stop thinking about you."

I was going to answer when he pulled me forward and kissed me. It wasn't slow, for fear of someone interrupting us again. His hands wrapped around me and mine around his neck. His lips were cool against mine, his tongue probing my mouth. His hands tangled in my hair, his lips never stopping to give me air. I didn't care. I felt like I was floating. Angel's mouth moved fervently and passionately.

"Angel…" I moan softly and he stopped, cold.

"Anne." He said, almost as if realizing it was me.

"Who did you think it was?" I asked, breathing heavily.

"What are you doing?" He asked, his eyes wide.

I just gaped at him, "What am I doing…? Angel…you kissed me."

He moved quickly away from me, practically running away, "I can't… Anne…this shouldn't have happened."

"Why?" I demanded, awake and angry now, "Angel, it almost happened twice."

"And, it can't happen again. I'm older than you. You're too young and you don't know me." He was grasping at straws, avoiding my eyes.

*Tell me you don't love me!*

*I want my life to be with you!*

*I don't.*

*I love you, I try not too, but I can't stop*

*Dream on, schoolgirl.*

*I am not jealous!*

*This isn't some fairytale!*

*When you kiss me, I want to die.*

These images, feelings, and words slammed into my mind with such an overwhelming force that I stumbled where I stood. Everything I saw swarmed into colors and blurred images. More and More came, and I couldn't stop them.

*I love you.*

*Angel!*

*I thought you'd be taller.*

*I won't let you die!*

*I swear I was going to pay for that lipstick…*

*You have no idea what it's like to have done the things I've done. And to care.*

I sacrificed Angel to save the world. They kept coming, swelling into my brain and forcing their way to my mind.

"Stop!" I screamed, clutching my head.

Fragments of memories that were not mine ripped into my head, making me scream as if I was being ripped in two. I didn't know I was falling. I didn't know that I had climbed onto my bed in my hysteria and was now falling to the hardwood floor. I didn't know anything.

Except pain.

Pain and false memories. Help me...

please feed Stacie