Title: A time for everything and everything at a time

Author: Alecca

Rating: PG-13

About this story: It's a stranger idea, I know and even if the plot will eventually lead to B/A, this is a bit of a B/S fic too, if you take into consideration the future world Buffy and Spike's daughter comes from. It will also include C/A and C/C. I am a B/A shipper, but I'm not anti-B/S or anti-C/A and will not make Spike or Cordy look stupid. I won't deny Buffy's feeling for Spike or Angel's feelings for Cordy. I do advise any rabid shippers (the B/S, C/A mostly) to avoid this story, because I don't feeling like getting rants in my review box for what this story is not, because I stated the obvious from the beginning: it's B/A. With that settled, on with the story:

It was a beautiful cheery autumn afternoon in the City of Angels, but one particular angel in this city wasn't feeling so cheery, actually he was feeling pretty miserable. More than just a few days had passed since the return of his beloved, but yet he could not be together with her. Why? Because she couldn't remember anything, not the world, not the agency, not her friends, not him, not even herself. The situation had been frustrating for him for more than one reason....he wanted her to remember, but he also feared what she would remember. Was she really in love with him? Or had it all been a passing figment of his overzealous imagination? Maybe she had just wanted to reject him that night or gently push him away even she wasn't usually the type that went for gentle break-ups. There wouldn't have been a break-up, he corrected himself, because they had nothing but a strong friendship and a night of possession, not a relationship. He let out an unnecessary sigh and looked towards the shut window. The sun peaked in, leaving the shape of the window to reflect itself on the rug of the office. He walked on the edge of the make-believe window pondering the complications of his life. A green friend with a hole in his skull because of something he had seen inside his Cordelia, a son that had become the prodigal he had been in his own youth - something he had promised himself to never let happen, and his son and the woman he loved living under the same roof, not *his*, apparently in the same bed ...in some ways he thought it was harmless, but still he couldn't help but wonder.

Somehow, life seemed easier when he was just another vampire looking for blood-play. He couldn't even imagine how his life would change in the next few days...

Far away from the confused and troubled vampire, somewhere in an abandoned warehouse outside of Los Angeles, an earthquake seemed to manifest itself, strangely enough only inside this particular building. The ground rumbled, the empty crates laying around breaking under the pressure, leaving scattered wood all over, then it stopped. A thunder sounded above, even though the sky was clear and was followed by another and another, soon seeming as if the skies were beating some kind of celestial drums, then the thunder stopped. A ray of blinding light hit so fast that it wouldn't have been caught by the human eye and then an empty scream was heard followed by a moment of total silence. To those outside the warehouse everything returned to normal, but inside, under wood and splinters, down in a freshly formed crater a female form squirmed in pain. She was wearing a long mantel over a white and black skirt that looked like a chess board rip-off, black boots, a sleeveless red top with the symbol of a bird imprinted on it and black gloves up to her elbows. Her long hair - remarkably white - was covering her face. Her chest was moving up and down, slowly trying to return to its normal rhythm. Suddenly she gasped for air, her back arching off the ground, her hands desperately trying to clutch the earth beneath, then she collapsed back down. She seemed to be more in control of her body now. She pulled the hair away from her eyes, revealing the face of a teenager, with piercing green eyes, black tainted lips and something like a red lightening painted on the left side of her face.

With an effort she managed to stand up, still feeling shook up by the experience she had gone through. She started noticing her surroundings and understood something must have gone wrong. It didn't look like the place she was supposed to be in. She sighed, this was all she needed now, to be in the wrong place! After trying to get the dust out of her mantel she stepped outside the warehouse. She immediately fell to the ground trying to cover her eyes. The sun was still up. Exasperated she reached down to her right boot and pulled a pair of ruby red glasses from inside and put them on. Everything was red, but at least now she could keep her eyes open. She looked around, it still didn't look like Los Angeles to her.

"Jacques, you cajun freak, where did you send me to?" she asked out loud, but no one seemed to want to answer her question. "Jacques?" she called again, but who ever this Jacques was, he wasn't answering. She gave up on trying to get him to answer and simply headed for the street. She saw a few cars heading out in different directions but didn't quite know how to stop them so she just put herself in the way of one. The jeep stopped abruptly, almost hitting her.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?! If you want to hitch a ride, do it the old fashion, sweetheart," the driver yelled after lowering his window. She didn't pay attention to him.

"Where's Los Angeles? Is it suppose to be here?" she asked and the man burst into laughter. "Uhm..." she was beginning to retreat thinking the man was insane.

"Look behind you," the driver told her after controlling his laughter. The girl turned around and suddenly noticed the city rising above the horizon. It was so much smaller than she remembered it. She realized why she had gotten there, the LA *she* knew was bigger, so much bigger. It hadn't been Jacques' fault after all. She asked the driver to take her to LA and after thinking it over he accepted. She had to be in LA that night because she had a certain angel to meet.

The city didn't impress her, it seemed small and humble compared to the gigantic freak-shows they called cities in her time. It didn't take her long till she managed to track down the Hyperion Hotel. If she could manage in her hometown, LA was a synch. She stood outside the hotel for a few moments, pondering on what would happen when she would enter. She could practically hear Cordelia Chase's cheery voice saying 'we help the helpless' just like in her mother's stories and she could see the fashionable figure walking towards her...it seemed like a dream, like suddenly she had stepped out of her life and into a book of stories, the stories she had grown up with.

She didn't even manage to put her hand on the doorknob because the door flew open and a green skinned demon stormed out. She tensed for a moment, as she did around any demon, but then remembered who that particular demon was. It was Lorne, the soul reader. Another character in the many stories she had been told, but these weren't her mother's stories, they belonged to someone else. She looked after the demon for a moment before she took a deep breath and entered the hotel.

It was silent inside. No one seemed to be there. Where was Cordelia and her cheery smile? Wesley with his dusty old books? Gunn and his famous homemade weapons?

"Hello?" she asked the empty lobby in hope of an answer. Suddenly she sensed a presence, a supernatural presence and instinctively made a quick turn and attempted a punch. Luckily the 'presence' caught her fist before it hit his face. She stared at him, somehow not believing he truly existed. The fabled vampire ensouled by gypsies. "Angel?" she asked in a weak voice.

"That's me. Can I help you?" he asked lowering her fist and walking over to the couch. He felt uncomfortable under her stares.

"You're different from what I expected," she eventually spoke again. Angel noted her British accent.

"Well, what you see is what you get," the vampire assured her before turning his attention on her. "So who are you? A paid killer from Wolfram & Hart? If that's true I had a tough day and I'd *really* just like to skip the friendly 'I'm dangerous, you're dangerous' conversation and get to the fight."

"I'm not a paid killer, sorry to disappoint you," the girl said a little twinkling light in her eyes. "I'm actually looking for help."

"Too bad, I think I could've gone for a good fight, would've made me forget half my problems," he let out an unnecessary sigh. "What kind of help do you want?"

"A family matter," she was intentionally vague.

"Do you usually wear glasses at night?" she had forgotten to take them off after nightfall. She liked to keep them on sometimes even at night because they helped her see better in the darkness too.

"Oh, sorry, I guess you want to look the person you're talking to in the eye," she smiled and took off her glasses. Angel froze. "Is something wrong?"

"No...just your eyes, they remind of someone," a brief remembrance washed over him, but he quickly put it aside. "What's your name?"

"I'm Joy," she almost slipped out the name the demons had christened her with, 'Bloody Joy'. The vampire awaited a second name, but by the way the girl held his gaze he realized he wasn't about to get one.

"So do you want to tell me about your 'family matter'?" he asked when he saw he was going nowhere. He doubted she would explain why she was dressed that way or why her hair was white or her strange glasses. He just hoped she wasn't a stray from some other dimension looking for a helping hand. He had his full of dimensions for that day and possibly for the rest of his life. Meanwhile Joy was analyzing him wondering if that brief moment he froze was because her eyes were like her mother's? She was snapped out of her reverie when she heard his question. She let out a small scream when she noticed a figure behind Angel, a very familiar figure.

"Jacques!" she let out and Angel looked around himself not noticing anyone. He looked back towards Joy.

"Is something here?" Angel asked thinking maybe it was some sort of ghost that was haunting her. He couldn't see the red haired teenager standing behind the couch, casually leaning on the wall.

"You miss me, chere?" the cocky Cajun asked and Joy held back a torrent of curses at his expense.

"No, no, everything's fine...I just remembered something," she assured the vampire, then asked: "Could I use your bathroom?" Angel rose an eyebrow questioningly, something had happened, but she didn't want to tell him what. Seeing as he couldn't do anything if she wouldn't tell him her problem, he nodded and showed her towards a bathroom. Once locked securely inside, Joy was slightly startled by the sight of Jacques standing on the edge of the bathtub.

"Scared you?" he asked smiling.

"You stupid little shit! You' mama should've left in the bayu to the crocs!" she jumped, not trying to do anything physical though, because it was obvious Jacques wasn't there in flesh and bones.

"Now, now, Jacques know you don't mean that," he was overconfident.

"You left me in the middle of bloody nowhere!" she reminded him.

"Oh, that. Wasn't my fault. I thought time travel takes longer...You know I'd never leave you by you'self, chere," he apologized and wanted to give his friend a hug, but because he wasn't really in the state of giving hugs he kept it to himself. "How was I suppose to know how small LA was 20 or so years ago?"

"Research, genius, research," she scowled. She should've gotten more involved in the whole process and not leave it all to Jacques.

"Papa didn't raise me to be no tech genius in the bayu, Joycie," he pointed out and Joy let out a quick never mind.

"Any other surprises I should prepare for?" she wanted to know, she really didn't feel like not finding Sunnydale on the map anymore or some other inconvenience.

"Unless you count that you'll be meeting your mother and every other person you've ever dreamt of meeting! I envy you," his voice seemed shadowed by grief.

"You wouldn't be so envious if you'd have to prevent yourself from being born," Joy said somehow bitterly.

"Actually, for me it would be easy," he remembered the uncommon circumstances he was conceived under.

"Not for me, mate," she had a hard task ahead of her. "I have to get Buffy Summers of this time to leave William the Bloody and be with Angelus forever or at least for 23 years so the world won't be turned to a big pile of rubble. I'd say I'll need more than my inherited over-the-top genes or my good luck charm to solve this problem. And let's not even talk about the pressure.."

"Good luck, chere, and don't you forget, whenever you need help, Jacques always here," he assured her and throwing her a butterfly kiss he was gone.

"I'm sure gonna need it, Jacques, I'm sure gonna need it," she looked at herself in the mirror and wondered if anyone would understand or guess who she was. She laughed, the idea was just ridiculous. "Hi, I'm Joyce. I'm your daughter from the future, Buffy," she shook her head, it sounded so stupid, even if it was true. She left the bathroom deciding she would do anything in her power to stay there the shortest possible time.

When she returned to the lobby, Angel wasn't alone anymore. He had company in the form of the green skinned demon, Lorne. She froze in the spot for a moment, feeling uncomfortable walking in on the conversation of two of her childhood heroes. For a minute she pondered the possibility of just standing there and eavesdropping on their discussion, feeling as if she was the witness of history being made, but she dismissed it as being too silly. She entered the lobby clearing her throat loudly to make sure the two noticed her appearance. The demon turned towards her and seemed surprised.

"And where have you been hiding this pretty lady?" he asked Angel who seemed to only now remember she had been in the hotel too. It was obvious the conversation he had with Lorne hadn't been about her and it had been so intense he had fully forgotten about her.

"Hi, I'm Joy," she introduced herself as she walked over to him.

"And seeing as you're not screaming, I guess you're in the demon hunting business," Lorne said referring to the fact he hadn't had any reaction from her concerning his appearance.

"You could say that," Joy admitted. They couldn't guess *how* involved she was. "But I'm here as a client," she added. "And I'm not a paid killer or something like that," she hurried to assure him.

"No one said you were," Lorne smiled at her, her aura had a strange vibe that screamed 'not of this world' and the pain was practically clawing its way outside of her soul and he didn't even need to hear her sing to know that. There was something troubling about her, like her presence would only bring disaster with it.

"She was about to tell me what her problem is, but then she had to go to the bathroom," Angel explained. "And I was the one who thought she was a paid killer."

"Like I said it's a family problem," she repeated.

"You mentioned it," Angel remembered.

"There might be a bit of an inconvenience though," she told them and Angel was already thinking his from another dimension theory was true and was now somehow repenting that he had accepted to talk to her.

"What kind of inconvenience?" Angel dared to ask.

"My business, my family business, isn't here...anymore. It used to be here, but it kind of...well, migrated," she explained, while Lorne seemed to take an interest in her strange appearance, particularly the mark on her face.

"Migrated?" Lorne asked fascinated.

"Yeah..." she sighed. "I guess you should hear the whole truth, right?" the vampire and the demon nodded. "My brother was bit by a Ghola one night when he was out in a club. He started changing after a few days. After 24 hours he was turned completely. Now Gholas have certain migration patterns. I followed him all the way to Mexico and then here. Last I heard they're heading down to this town called Sunnydale, the whole herd's gonna be there. I thought it's time I stop chasing him and I can't very well face the whole lot of them alone. I can take out 4 or 5, but not twenty."

"Sunnydale?" Lorne arched an eyebrow. He knew what this city meant for Angel.

"And you want to kill your brother?" Angel wanted to know.

"Lord, no. I want to cure him," she pulled a red glowing vile from her boot.

"Gholas can be cured?" Angel looked over at Lorne for an answer. He had met Gholas in his days and fought a few of them, but seeing as they were so rare, he didn't really get to know the species well.

"Human hybrids, maybe. Even if they turn they're still around 30% human," Lorne explained. "But they don't usually go for big cities. You could say they're country folk. It doesn't make them any less vicious though. Those Gholas are nasty puppies."

"I got this cure right out the heart of Mexico, an old man gave it to me, told me all I had to do is feed it to my brother and he'd be back," Joy told them the flawless story she had made up with Jacques. They had fought a great deal of Gholas in her time. In the future, the demons had multiplied so much they had become another plague on humanity's back, in very many ways similar to vampires, except they were bigger, meaner and a whole lot easier to spot in a crowd. Once the Gholas had figured out that the only thing keeping them from spreading was their herd unity, many left the pack and went on to spread their genes in the world. In her time, slayers weren't only named vampire slayers, they were also ghola slayers. There was actually one slayer - of the three active ones existent in her time - that referred to herself as nothing else but the ghola slayer. As for the cure, there was no such thing. She only wished there was, then many would have been spared. There were actually mad men running around in her time claiming they had found a cure for vampires. Her father had been 'cured'....

"So why didn't you come earlier?" Angel interrupted her thoughts. "While he was still in LA."

"By the time I got here from Mexico they were already on their way to Sunnydale. There's either a shrine down there or something *really* bad," she told them seeing the 'really bad' part catching Angel's attention.

"I can't really leave LA right now, you have to understand, but I can send you to someone who'll help you out," he headed for the front desk and wrote down the slayer's address. He then handed it over to the girl. "Go see her, she's the slayer, just tell her I sent you, all right?"

"I need you to come," Joy insisted. "You're the only one I trust."

"She's the slayer. You can trust her, I'm willing to sign that in my blood," the vampire assured her smiling.

"You expect me to trust a slayer? Please, all they see is black and white. They see a monster, they kill it. If I go to a slayer she'll slaughter every Ghola she finds first and then try to figure out which corpse belongs to my brother, provided she knows what a Ghola is of course," Joy couldn't believe that she was talking trash about her own mother, but truth be told she would've done anything to save the future and her parents most of all. Besides what her mother wouldn't know wouldn't hurt her. Not exactly like her mother would've cared right then, she was a little too busy elsewhere those days...one of the many reasons Joy had ended up in her present situation.

"You can trust her," Angel repeated. "You'll fill her in on the details and then she'll know what a Ghola is."

"I'd feel much safer if you'd be there with me," Joy tried to convince him his presence was necessary.

"Where?" came the question from behind them.

"Sunnydale," Angel answered while Gunn made his way towards them.

"Isn't that the place that slayer girl you know is from?" Gunn asked immediately passing to business mode, realizing the girl must be a client. He would have gone for a good fight, especially after the whole turmoil and events he had gone through that day.

"Yeah," Angel nodded and proceeded to explain Joy's situation to him, while Joy herself seemed to have her eyes glued on Gunn.

"Do I have something between my teeth? My shirt on backwards?" Gunn asked when he felt her gaze persisting a tad too long on his persona.

"She stares, I think it's a habit," Lorne smiled while asking himself if the girl wasn't some sort of paid assassin that was studying his opponents before striking. She had that certain eccentricity assassins had and the appearance of a demon hiding under a human disguise. And that sign on her face only brought up more questions. He knew what it meant, but that symbol had no place on the face of a human. Joy gave Lorne a quick look as if she had heard his thoughts. The demon was a little startled and moved uneasily in his seat.

"So are we going to Sunnydale?" Gunn asked, a bit too excited by the offer. "C'mon, a vacation would do us good!"

"You or us?" Angel asked.

"I, for one, don't intend to leave this city ever again. Vegas was enough for me to realize my place is here with my cocktails and soul reading," Lorne stated and Joy shrugged.

"That's what you think," she mumbled and the demon's eyebrows rose surprised at her remark. "I mean...you-you can't expect to never leave again...maybe you'll have an emergency...or something.'"

"Good point," Lorne agreed, but was still a little curios what meaning those words really had hidden behind them. "Could I talk to you two for a moment?" the two men nodded. "In private," he added. "Excuse us," he pushed the two into Angel's office. Joy was alone in the lobby. She suddenly heard the sound of hands clapping. She turned around to see Jacques smiling.

"Ladies and Gentlemen a hand for lady Joy! Talking bad things about her mama! She became what she fear most, a...." the Cajun gave a speech for an unseen audience.

"Fuck you," Joy interrupted him in a low voice, not wanting the men from the office to hear her talking by herself.

"Oh, she just say the f word, tsk, tsk, if your moma could hear you she'd..." Jacques said pacing around the lobby.

"Rip my head off? Sorry, she's a little busy now. Even for that," Joy reminded him.

"Just messing with you, chere," he smiled again. "You doing good."

"Do you really think they'll buy it? The whole Ghola thing. It sounds so unbelievable to me," Joy shared her fear.

"They know squat about Gholas, they were..." he couldn't find the word.

"A minority?" Joy tried to help him.

"Yeah, that's it, so because they little, people don't know much. In New O everybody know about Gholas because there's a lot of them," Jacques explained.

"And the antidote?" she looked at the glowing vile she still held in her hands.

"They'll never guess it's quantum jelly," Jacques named the most loved candy in their time. So, sure, if you would eat a little too much of it certain things took place, like you started floating off the ground or you grew a second pair of hands, but that was the whole beauty of it. Jacques had concentrated something close to a tub of jelly into a glass vile that in certain conditions would give a Ghola human appearance for a limited time of three minutes.

Meanwhile in the office Lorne was discussing Joy with Gunn and Angel, telling them about his bad feelings about her.

"She looks fine to me," Gunn told them. "A bit weird, but okay."

"I say don't trust her," Lorne said. "Whatever you do, don't go to Sunnydale. She's probably just looking to get you out of town so some great evil can wreck havoc on the world."

"But why Sunnydale?" Angel asked not really buying the demon's theory.

"Do you somehow not see the obvious?" Lorne rolled his eyes. "She somehow knows you'd be easier to convince if your ex-belle's life was at stake."

"Buffy can take care of herself," Angel reminded him, but the demon only shrugged.

"Admit it, Angelcakes, just the thought of something bad happening to the merry band of Sunnydale demon hunters -again - makes you turn and twist in your bed at night. Or day," the demon corrected himself.

"I don't really see the harm in it," Gunn interrupted their conversation. "We go, kick some demon ass if there's ass to kick and if not we deal with the lying white hair chick and come back before any apocalypse has a chance to destroy the world. Besides, we live in modern times, one phone call and we're back."

"It's not that easy. You have no idea what she is," Lorne insisted.

"She doesn't smell human," Angel answered Gunn's questioning gaze.

"Her aura is human," Lorne added. "But there's something else there too. Maybe she was made to seem human."

"But by whom?" Angel immediately asked. "Wolfram & Hart?"

"Okay, don't you two think you're gettin' paranoid?" Gunn thought they were both overreacting. "She looks...sorta normal and if she ain't we can take her out, whatever she is."

"Act now, think later? Now there's a plan," Lorne shook his head.

"If you think it's *that* important, then I won't go. Usually when you get a vibe, something bad is bound to happen," Angel gave in. Lorne's premonitions were mostly right and after spending four months underwater he didn't really feel like taking a risk that would maybe endanger his freedom in any way possible. The three men exited the office and found Joy curiously browsing through an old book. She startled when they reappeared in the room.

"Look, I've thought things over and I'm not coming. You can go see the slayer and she'll help you out if you'll let her," Angel explained.

"Fine, I'll go, but I won't see your stinking slayer and I'll just go fight the gholas by myself and if I die it's your fault," Joy retorted a little mad.

"I can't come," Angel pressed the words.

"You have to," Joy repeated but this time they all sensed desperation in her voice.

"There's too much I have to do here," Angel refused to give in to her pleading. Suddenly Joy's attention was drawn to Lorne. She realized it was his fault Angel was now no longer interested in helping her out. She looked back at Angel and bit her lip before deciding to do the unthinkable: sing.

"There was a girl named Nanoube Brought up by the priests of the Plath

One day she woke up screaming in the night

To the flames of the burning temple" it was a song she had learnt from Jacques' father, an old mystic that had been, along with her mother and father, a great presence in her childhood. Even though Angel and Gunn were looking at her strangely, not understanding the sudden burst into song, Lorne was fully aware of her reasons as he started to phase in and out of a strange vision.

"The fire is here to cleanse our fears

Yelled father Yiidah to the people" as she continued her song Lorne sank deeper and deeper into that blurry vision, finally managing to spot things in the mist of the girl's mind. He saw a city, a gigantic metal and steel formation rising miles above the earth and spreading so far he could not see, from his place high above it, where it started or where it ended, where was the earth underneath, but somehow, he knew what this city was...Los Angeles...but it didn't seem one bit familiar to the one he knew, not one building, not one spot of this grotesque contraption was of the old LA. But where had it gone? Into the ashes, a voice answered him. The city of millions and millions of artificial lights started fading away as he heard Joy's voice still singing.

"....But Naroube didn't fear the flame

The fire came from within So she rose to her feet and the sword she took..." as the voice started fading away Lorne found himself in a different city. He had seen it once or twice in his life and it didn't seem to have changed much in this vision. New Orleans, home of ancient mystics, gumbo, bayus and good music. He saw a house, a pretty little thing and inside in a cradle, there was a baby with brown hair that one day, not too far into the future, would turn white. And above that little child there were two people. A woman and a bleached vampire that couldn't help but marvel at the miracle before them. A child that shouldn't have been born. The baby of a vampire and a slayer. 'I want to call her Joyce,' a voice whispered in Lorne's ear and the vampire kissed the woman on the shoulder and nodded. 'Little Joycie," he whispered. Lorne collapsed on the floor of the hotel, seeming to go through some sort of shock.

"You're doing this, aren't ya?" Gunn stepped menacingly towards Joy who just shook her head refusing to stop singing.

"D...on..don...'t" Lorne managed to regain consciousness enough to cry out that one word before blacking out again while Joy continued the chant:

"She said 'perish into the abyss

And Katune just laughed at her weak attempt

As her sword swung in the air..." and Lorne found himself in a gigantic cemetery passing between graves -many unnamed, just stone blocks. A figure, a small blond woman passed between them, humming a song that reminded Lorne of the one Joy was singing so he followed her. They passed by a large stone monument that rose higher than any other, the words on it written in gold, fresh flowers laying scattered all over it. It was something on this particular grave that caught Lorne's eye, the name engraved on it. Winifred Burkle. Under the name there was a quote 'We live only to die, so life has no particular meaning or purpose, only death and that's only a begin of a whole other end' and it was apparently by Fred herself, and under the quote it said: Hero, Scientist, Genius, 'Today we morn the loss of a goddess' and it was signed by the president, of whose name Lorne had never heard of. Surprised by the greatness that seemed to have surrounded Fred's death, Lorne had lost track of the blond woman who was now far away from him, in a distant corner of the graveyard. Just by thinking it he suddenly found himself near her again. She was kneeled down in front of a small grave.

' Angel
Devoted Friend
Beloved father

A hero to the end' he read out loud, a feeling of grim things to come filling his senses. He knew this was a far away future, but still couldn't accept the idea of seeing Angel die one day. As he looked over at the graves beside Angel's his eyes filled up with tears. One said:

' Connor
Son of Angel and Darla
Devoted friend
Beloved father
He never stopped fighting'

While another said:

'Cordelia Chase
Devoted friend
Beloved mother
She was never meant for this world'

He passed on to the next:

'Celeste Chase
Daughter of Connor and Cordelia
Sweet child
You left us before your time'

Lorne's hands reached for his face as he passed, frightened to the next block of stone, the next grave in a long endless line.

' Gunn
Devoted friend
Never tired fighter
May you finally find your peace'

The last grave that came before Lorne crashed back into reality said:

'Krevlornswoth of the Deathwok Clan
Devoted friend
His songs will forever warm our hearts'

The woman kneeled by Angel's grave seemed to look up at him with tears in her eyes before Lorne found himself panting on the floor of the Hyperion Hotel hearing the last lyric of Joy's song.

'Naroube was the flame

The fire had become her" Joy concluded her song and tears seemed to fill her eyes as she looked at the blunt Lorne sitting on the floor.

"What did you do to him?" Angel demanded to know.

"Nothing," Joy replied sternly.

"You okay?" Gunn asked Lorne as he helped him up. He was still shaking from the experience and feared that the vision would come back and haunt him and that this reality would soon crumble and nothing would be left but graves and death.

"Go with her," Lorne told Angel. "You have to go."

"What did you see?" Angel questioned him.

"Just go," Lorne said while staring at Joy with pity and sadness. He wasn't sure of what he had seen but he knew whatever it had been, it had to be stopped and Angel going to Sunnydale was one of the first steps that had to be taken. That's what he understood. Unknowing to him though, their deaths had absolutely nothing to do with the reason Joy was there. Their passing was just a memory of her childhood. The rememberance of a bleeding man coming to their house in the middle of the night holding a boy in his arms and crying. 'They're all dead,' he would say. 'They're gone' she remembered the man sobbing while his mother hugged him and the child with big brown eyes staring at them, not understanding where his parents were. He only heard 'gone, gone, gone'.

"What did you see?" Angel asked again as Lorne sat himself down on the couch, still in shock and Joy, under Gunn's watching gaze, made her way to him.

"It's okay," she said in a soft voice trying to shake him out of it.

"Don't tell me it's okay!" Lorne suddenly screamed at her.

"It...it will be," Joy assured him a little taken aback, she wasn't used to people screaming at her like that. Angel looked at Lorne then at Joy and back at the demon.

"What the hell did you do to him?" Gunn asked Joy in a harsh tone.

"Nothing, I just...showed him he shouldn't fear me. I'm just looking for help," Joy told him. She wasn't so sure she had done the right thing anymore. She hadn't showed him everything, actually he had seen too little to know anything of what was to come, but still, even if it was just a bit, she felt as if her mission was close to failure. She was in this time only for a few hours and already she had been forced to reveal a part of her secret.

"Was it real?" Lorne asked in a lower, softer tone.

"Yeah," Joy whispered, hoping at least he wouldn't tell the others.

"You have to go to Sunnydale," Lorne turned to Angel. "Don't ask me why, just go. And could anyone get a drink? Whatever you have in a double."

"I think Wesley used to hide this bottle of scotch..." Gunn looked under the front desk, after a few moments finding what he was looking for. "Here."

He handed it to Lorne. When Gunn offered to get him a glass too, the demon shook his head. He felt like drinking a tub of scotch not just a glass. The whole bottle was just a start.

"So I'm coming," Angel looked over at Joy. The last time he had seen Lorne in that state had been after he had read Cordelia. "No one's gonna try and make a hole in his skull for what you showed him, right?"

"I don't think so," Joy knew the things she had shown Lorne were of no importance. The front door suddenly opened and Cordelia and Connor entered.

"Hey, guys. I just wanted to pick up some things," Cordy told them, feeling as if she'd interrupted some sort of vital conversation.

"Cordelia..." Joy mumbled, excited of meeting her. Cordelia's stories were among her favorites. The half-demon ex-cheerleader that managed to be popular by day and a demon hunter by night. At some point her mother had even been jealous that she considered Cordelia her favorite hero. She was only sorry Cordelia Chase would end her life so soon.

"Am I suppose to know you?" Cordelia asked her confused. Joy didn't answer her. Thinking that maybe she had thought she was joking, Cordy asked again: "Really, do you I know you?"

"No, you don't," Angel quickly stepped up to her. "She's a client."

"Oh," Cordy passed by Angel, not addressing him another word. He looked after her as she climbed upstairs. Every time he saw her he expected the old Cordy with her cheery smile and each time he faced only disappointment.

"I didn't want her to go off by herself at night," Connor told Angel when his father looked questioningly at him.

"Does she..." Angel started.

"When can we leave?" Joy interrupted Angel's reply. The vampire looked towards her and Connor seemed to finally take interest in her too.

"Where are you going?" Connor asked Angel.

"Sunnydale," Angel said and he suddenly got an idea. "I can take Cordy with me."

"What?" Connor didn't like the sound of it.

"Maybe she'll remember something. She was born there, that's where her past is," Angel told his son. Connor didn't know about that. He realized there was a lot he didn't know about Cordelia, but he promised himself he would find out everything there was to know.

"I'll come too," Connor suddenly heard himself saying.

"Why?" Angel asked. He had enough of a hard time dealing with Cordy living with Connor, he didn't want to spend an entire trip worrying about what the two would be up to instead of focusing on the problem at hand.

"You'll be too busy with your, uhm, client" Connor pointed towards Joy. "You can't leave her alone," he was referring to Cordelia now. "I'm just going to be there to make sure nothing happens to her."

"He has a point," Gunn agreed with Connor. "She can't really take care of herself right now."

"Yeah," Angel was forced to accept. It did make sense, but he could've juggled finding some gholas with spending time with Cordelia. He would always be able to find time for her. He had hoped that some time alone with him would perhaps awaken the old feelings inside Cordelia and would make their present situation less tense, but now he severely doubted his son would give them any privacy what so ever. Connor seemed hell bent on preventing Cordelia from remembering anything about Angel even if his father didn't want to believe it.

"And someone has to take her out in daylight. That's where she probably has most of her memories from," Connor added not bothering to think how much that comment would sting his father.

Joy suddenly realized the present situation. It wasn't just Connor who was in love with Cordelia, it was Angel too...This piece of news confused her, Connor and Cordelia were written history, but Angel and Cordelia? Since when? Why had this detail been left out of the stories she had heard? It also made her mission harder. She didn't only have to separate Buffy from Spike, now she had to also find a way to break Angel away from Cordelia. This was the time of Cordelia's great amnesia - she remembered the stories - but this period ended with Celeste's conception... Luckily Connor would be there too and maybe the spark between them would light without her intervention and history would just take its course. She was broken out of her thoughts by the sound of two women talking while coming downstairs.

She looked up to see Cordelia and another woman coming into the lobby. She immediately recognized her. Lorne briefly startled in his seat at the sight of Fred, the image of her glorious grave flashing before his eyes. Joy's face tightened. Sure, her hair was much longer, but it was still Winifred Burkle under that naïve appearance. She was one of the few people Joy had grown up hating. The savior of humanity, the ultimate genius, the physician of a new era, the conceiver of the pawn theory - the murderer of millions. Fred was the one person whose grave she would spit on gladly. She was glorified for what she had done, but Joy knew the truth, she had just killed to be recognized by the world for her genius. She had been a stupid shallow woman in her eyes.

"What is she staring at?" Fred asked as she noticed Joy's disgusted gaze.

"Someone she might think is dead," Lorne muttered before taking another mouth full of scotch.

"What?" Fred looked at him confused.

"We can go now," Cordy said showing Connor the blue sweater she had come for. She had seen it laying around when they had showed her the place where all her things were stored. She remembered she had liked it because it was so soft.

"We're going somewhere else," Connor told her. "To..." he turned towards his father, not remembering the name of the city.

"Sunnydale. It's the city you were born in," Angel let her know. "I have to go there anyway so I thought it would do you good to be there too."

"Is Connor coming too?" Cordy immediately asked. Joy smiled, Connor and Cordelia's love story was legendary. When the bad times would come and strike LA with all their might they would stick together like...an apocalyptic version of Romeo and Juliet. She thought those words to be appropriate, because their end would be as tragic as those of Shakespeare's heroes. By the time the great tragedy of Los Angeles would take place, Joy would be far away in New Orleans with her mother and father, the hellmouth would be gone forever under the rubble of Sunnydale, Jacques would learn his first real spell and Celeste would kiss the world goodbye and become ashes forever.

"Yeah," Connor assured her.

"It would be a good idea to leave tonight," Joy spoke up.

"Great, we'll just pack a coupla' weapons," Gunn said smiling.

"Hold on, someone has to stay and watch over the agency," Angel reminded him an Gunn's smile faded. He had been looking forward to leaving town, especially for some good demon ass kicking. "You and Fred stay here. If you need help, call Wesley."

"No way I'm..." Gunn started arguing.

"Swallow your pride, Gunn. It's better than you and Fred winding up dead," Angel cut him short. Gunn shrugged, there was always that 'if'. He was sure he wasn't going to need any help from Wesley. The name of the ex-watcher caught Joy's attention. She wished so much that she could meet him in this time. Poor Wesley. Another sad destiny...if she thought of it now, it felt as if the detective agency had been cursed with the most tragic fates she had come to know in her life. And she had known so many.

"So now we can go?" Joy's eyes lit up with hope. In some ways she was looking forward to seeing Sunnydale. The place where legends were born and died. But in some ways it frightened her. She remembered when she had visited it along with her mother. It hadn't really been Sunnydale, but the ghost town that followed its demise. Unlike LA, no one bothered to rebuilt this place of horrors, so it remained the same - rubble - identical to the one her mother had left behind years ago. The only difference was that on the time of their visit the candles had burnt out and the glowing acres of soothing fire lit in the memory of those who died in the battle between human and demon were gone. She remembered the smell of dead, the disturbing chill that ran up her spine when she stared at the ruins, the voices of thousands of spirits lost between this world and the next whispering in her ears 'tell her I miss her...' 'where are you?'...'Janie... is that you...' 'the fire, the fire'... "Don't listen to them," her mother had told her. And she was right, she couldn't have done anything. Their deaths couldn't be avenged because the evil that killed them was closed beneath their feet, in the ever moving hellmouth. Her mother had taken her hand, even if she had been 15 at the time, shaking her out of the tempest of grief that Sunnydale had become.

She remembered her mother's steady hands guiding her through the ruins and she recalled how awkward it had seemed to her that she knew - even if the town was now a havoc - where all the streets and all the buildings were. They had gone straight to a gigantic crater. There, her mother's hands began to shake. This was where the battle had been fought. The place that still haunted her mother's nightmares. She knew that in some nights, she found herself there again, each time fighting differently, saving others, leaving those once saved to perish. Had it been different if they had been saved? She recalled the odd feeling of her mother's hand slipping out of hers, as if she was drifting away in some unknown world, and she wanted nothing more than to grab hold of her and get her out of harms way, but she did nothing - she knew she didn't belong in that world and didn't understand it. She just watched as her mother walked away from her and fell crying on her knees a few feet away, seeming to want to pull at the earth, demanding that it give her back the friends it stole. At that moment Joy had cursed her father for refusing to come. He had told her that Sunnydale was a place that belonged to the past and the real dead and he was neither. Joy knew that his father held even uglier memories of that place than her mother had. And her mother, even if she seemed so weak and fragile in front of the past, was stronger than him.

She didn't remember the exact moment when her mother had risen to her feet, but she recalled the wind suddenly blowing harder and her mother being up. She desperately tried to light the candles she had brought, but the wind didn't want to let her. It seemed to mock her efforts and want to drive her way. It seemed to yell to her that she didn't belong there anymore, to leave and never look back. This was a place of the real dead, this was their wasteland and they had nothing to look for there. Humanity had abandoned it and so should have they. Fate was so cruel, she had thought then and was thinking now.

"Joy, let's go," Angel moved his hand in front of her eyes. "I thought we lost you for a moment there."

"Aren't you gonna pack?" she asked feeling as if she had traveled to another reality and her skin was turned inside out because she had been pulled back into this one. Jacques had warned her about the side affects of the time spell. If she would let herself be pulled in the whirlwind of her memories she could get lost forever in them. That was one of the reasons Jacques appeared from time to time, to check up on her, make sure she was okay and if needed pull her back with or without her mission accomplished.

"Already done. While you were...uhm..." Angel couldn't find the right words.

"Blacked out?" Cordelia suggested as she came downstairs carrying a small bag.

"I blacked out?" Joy looked at Angel for an answer.

"Not really. Your eyes were kinda blank. All you said was that there are ghosts around here," Angel told her, but Joy had obviously no recollection of saying it now, but she knew one time she had said it - she had told that to her mother when they had first entered Sunnydale.

"Oh, sorry. The bad energy of this place it's-it's...overwhelming," she lied not daring to look Angel in the face, knowing her fib was totally out of place.

"O-kay," Cordy said not knowing if such a comment was made on a regular basis. "You really think I'll get some kind of memories of this place?"

"I don't know. Maybe. A lot happened when you were there. Something could trigger your memory," Angel told her, adding after pondering his words: "I figured that...I don't know, maybe you never had a normal moment here, anything you'd want to remember, but at some point you were happy there."

"So I wasn't happy here?" Cordelia asked and Joy wondered what was in Angel's head. Cordelia had been the happiest in Los Angeles. That's what the stories told her. When she was in Sunnydale all she had been was a scared little girl and an insecure teenager.

"I don't know. You had your fun moments, but there were...a lot of bad ones. You had a normal life there. For a while anyway," Angel replied. "Sometimes all you want is to be normal."

"It's strange, but I think I know the feeling," Cordelia told him as Connor entered the hotel again, not liking the closeness between his father and Cordelia. At least they weren't alone, he thought as he gave Joy a look. He had gone to his place to pick up some things. "You're back," Cordelia noticed with a smile. "We can go now," she turned towards Angel.

"I guess we should," Joy said, an odd feeling overcoming her. This would be the first time she'd ride an old fashion machine. New Orleans wasn't futuristic, but it wasn't set this far in the past either. Los Angeles was one of the first great steel metropolis to be built, then all the world seemed to rose up to the skies or fall down. New Orleans was one of the very few that survived the post-digital era and kept its old charm without falling into a third world country abyss. Jacques owned something he called his prized jewel, a beat up old truck that needed fuel and ran on wheels. Joy had never trusted it enough to climb aboard. It was messy, dirty and against the ecological laws imposed in her time. Jacques occasionally drove it around the bayu, but he'd never go into town with it. The police wasn't fond of Jacques and they were just looking for a reason to arrest him.

When she climbed in the car, she found the smell of fuel to be intoxicating. Angel, Cordelia and Connor didn't seem to notice her distress or the horrible smell. Luckily for her she could go hours without breathing. A special gift she had inherited from her father. Unfortunately not all his gifts were this useful, she thought as she suddenly stopped her heart from beating. Angel looked at her through the front mirror. He didn't have a reflection, but Joy knew that look very well, even if it was invisible. It was the same look her father had often given her when she used to go out and fight demons on her own. It was a look of worry. She shrugged to herself, Angel had nothing to worry about. She did. Her lifeline was slipping away with every minute that passed and it wasn't a disease that was doing it, it was she.

It was close to dawn when they arrived in Sunnydale. She could smell the daylight hours before the sun rose over the horizon. It was a startling scent that each time filled her with a strange uncommon fear. She wanted to bury herself in the ground and never witness that blasted ball of fire rising on the sky ever again. But as always she held back that odd desire, knowing very well that mostly she was human and whatever vampire urges she held inside would surely kill her if she chose to follow them. She smirked remembering one of her most unpleasant experiences with those urges.

It had been after she had turned 14. One day when she was out on some random celebration with her friends, a bunch of crazy mages that followed her uncle Remy's school of witchcraft, she had fallen for a jazz singer in some sleazy joint called 'La Bouche D'Or'. But it hadn't been a sexual attraction, but a sort of dirtier desire, a murderous instinct that had been awakened at the sight of him. At first, she didn't understand what it was, but then when she talked to him she realized she wasn't interested in whatever he had to say. She didn't care for his jokes, his songs, his smile. All she could hear was his heartbeat. Oh, it was so fast. Too fast. All she wanted was to slow down that heartbeat and if she could bring herself to do it, stop it. She had quickly convinced him to leave with her and she had thrown him in a dirty alley and instead of doing what he had suspected her to want she had ripped his throat open and drank all the blood she could take. She could hear his heart beating slower and slower and god did she ever like the way that ticking just seemed to want to stop. When her blood filled hands reached down to grasp that heart and pull it out of his chest, her father had shown up.

'What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?' she could still hear him now. Had he been furious! He had called her everything from irresponsible to stupid, eventually begging her to never mention a word of the happening to her mother. She would have been spooked if she had known. Joy had understood and never told her mother anything to this day. The boy had been lucky. If her father hadn't appeared, she would have killed him. Sure he had spent a few weeks in a hospital, but eventually he recovered. She smiled. He was probably the only human who truly feared her. How come her father had been able to find her? They shared a special bond, very close to the one sires and childes shared with one another. Sometimes her mother had envied that connection complaining that she had no idea what was going on with her, while her father seemed to understand her every action. 'Because we're both the same kind of monsters' Joy usually replied to these 'accusations'. Her mother would frown and pout and eventually smile and say 'I guess we're all monsters inside. I just wish you'd be the kind of monster I am.' Her mother usually called herself that; it was her own way of punishing herself. Joy would only agree with her years later.

She looked out the window of the car, the reason of her visit to the past suddenly falling upon her with all its weight, for a moment, crashing her spirit. Suddenly, she breathed, letting out a heavy sigh. Cordelia gave her a small glance, but quickly returned to stare out the window. Poor thing, Joy thought, she probably felt more lost than she did.

It was strange to see Sunnydale as it had been before it had become ashes and rubble. All the streets, all the buildings, every person that would soon perish. 'This is where the Bronze used to be. The coolest place to hang and dance if you're a teen in Sunnydale' her mother's voice echoed in her mind as they passed the still lit sign of the legendary Bronze. 'Everybody came here. That's where the stage used to be. Dingoes ate my baby played there and Veruca's band. Remember her? The evil werewolf?' her mother's eyes had such a bright light inside them when she spoke of the past - a light that was replaced by another the day she left Sunnydale behind. And that new light was maybe less bright, but it lacked the shadows that had burdened the other. Outside Sunnydale her mother had found the one thing that had been taken from her on the hellmouth, her freedom.

'And there - see that big crater? That's where Sunnydale High was. That's where I went to school. Your aunt Dawnie too. And Willow. And Xander. Even Anya,' her mother's voice continued to speak in her mind as they passed a street from where Joy spotted the distant building of the Sunnydale High. 'And Cordelia too, right?' she heard herself ask in her mind. 'Her too,' her mother agreed with her. As they turned the corner to another street, Joy's heart began to beat faster.

'It was pretty. All white and the door...well it was changed very often cause any demon that wanted a piece of the slayer eventually came in or went out *with* the door. Demons never knock. You know, now that it's gone, I just wish I'd looked at it a bit more. Never know how much you'd miss something until it's gone. Even the most insignificant thing, like the shape of a house' her mother's voice told her as the car pulled up to a house. Was this it? The Summers house? The house that always appeared in her dreams as an unconquerable palace?

"This is it," Angel told them suddenly realizing none of them knew what 'it' was. His son had never been there, neither had Joy and Cordelia didn't remember what 'it' was. Everyone expected an explanation. "This is the place the slayer lives."

"Oh," Cordelia let out. "And what are we doing here?" she asked.

"I'm going to ask her to help us out with the gholas. If what Joy's saying is true, we won't be able to handle them all by ourselves," Angel explained. "Besides, I promised her I'd tell her if I'd come into town and not sneak around trying not to run into her."

"Why would you do that?" Connor suddenly asked.

"Long story," Angel didn't feel like sharing his romantic history with him. Somehow he felt as if Connor was a rival in his quest for Cordelia's heart. When they reached the door, Angel remembered what time it was. He hesitated for a moment before ringing the bell. He rang once. Twice. Three times. Four times and still no answer. Only after the fifth ring an irritated, grouchy voice yelled an 'all right, all right' from inside and footsteps were heard. When the door opened, a smile escaped Angel. The slayer was wearing her pajamas - a light pink and white combination - her hair was messed up and her pouty face betrayed the fact that she had been awakened from a deep sleep.

"Angel?" she asked sleepily. Joy's hands trembled. Oh, she was so sweet, so young. Her mother! She had seen her this young before, but she looked different then. She didn't understand why. It was the look in her eyes, she thought. Buffy shook her head, trying to snap herself awake. "Angel!" she eventually smiled and instinctually hugged him. Angel returned the hug, holding on a bit too long. Buffy proceeded to hug Cordelia. The half demon felt weird hugging a complete stranger. "God!" the slayer let out as she invited them in. "So what brings you Sunnydale? Scary apocalypse?" she asked as they entered the living room. Joy stayed a bit behind, taking in the surroundings. She seemed to want to memorize every object, every shade, every smell of that house.

"No, nothing like that," Angel assured her.

"Oh god, am I going to die?" It suddenly dawned on the slayer. "Again?" she added.

"No," Angel said smiling.

"Good. It'd be kinda corny at this point," Buffy said relieved.

"I'm actually looking for help," Angel told her. "Are you up for a little demon hunting?"

"Now you're talking," Buffy smiled. "Tiny inconvenience though," the slayer pointed towards the window. Outside, slowly the night was turning into day.

"How about tonight?" Angel suggested instead.

"You're on," Buffy immediately agreed. She missed a good a fight. And Angel's presence was always so soothing.

"Then we better go to a hotel," Angel told her, realizing he hadn't made the introductions yet and wasn't really looking forward to it either. How could he explain Connor?

"No way, you're staying right here. You and Cordy are basically family. You don't let family sleep in nasty hotels. Especially in Sunnydale hotels," Buffy made a grimace. "And your friends are our friends," she looked over at Joy and Connor.

"You sure we're not bothering you?" Angel asked, delaying the moment of introductions.

"No way. You know you're always welcomed here," Buffy told them smiling.

"Who's welcomed?" a sleepy voice asked from the stairway. The slayer turned towards them. It was Dawn.

"Go back to sleep, Dawnie," Buffy told her little sister, but the teenager obviously didn't obey her and strolled downstairs to see who their guests were.

"Angel?" she noticed the vampire. "Is something wrong?" she immediately asked.

"Hi, Dawn," he smiled. "Everything's okay. Don't worry," God, had she grown up! She was no longer the toddler he had left behind, but a teenager. It dawned on him how much time had passed since he had left Sunnydale.

"Hi, Cordy," the teenager saluted the half-demon. "I like your hair."

"Thanks," Cordelia said, feeling uncomfortable that no one had made clear the fact that she had amnesia yet.

"And hello..." Dawn's eyes stopped on Connor and she smiled. He was cute. He reminded her of someone, but couldn't quite place the resemblance.

"This is Connor. And Joy," Angel introduced the two. "Joy's the reason we're here. Her brother was turned into a ghola and she asked for our help to get him back. She found some sort of cure for the ghola bite."

"And uhm, Connor?" Buffy asked feeling the same odd recollection as her sister.

"He...ahhh, he's my son," Angel let it out and both the slayer and her sister were shocked.

"Your son," Buffy repeated surprised.

"Mine and Darla's," Angel explained.

"Darla..." Buffy repeated again. "As in dead Darla? The Darla you killed?" Connor shot Angel a look. The vampire nodded. "And he's how old?" she pointed towards Connor.

"Ahh...he's 18," Angel told them.

"O-kay," Buffy found the situation more than a little strange. "And where is the happy mother?"

"She died giving birth to Connor," Angel explained.

"Sorry. You'll fill me in later on the gigantic gaps of that story," Buffy told Angel feeling as if she could use a stiff drink right now.

"Wow," Dawn only managed to let out. Joy smiled to herself. She had already achieved a small change of history. In her version of the history Dawn Summers had never met Angel's son. It was a small, probably insignificant detail, but for her it was a small step towards victory. She just hoped there wouldn't be any sparks between the two teenagers. Dawn definitely seemed to like Connor, but the boy - it was obvious, he only had eyes for Cordelia. She found herself asking whether he really liked Cordelia or it wasn't all just out of this unhealthy rage he had inside him against his father. Maybe it had started that way - he wanted to take away everything his father loved - but in some ways - the ways of the heart - he was too innocent, too naïve to cheat his own feelings.

"Angel..." Cordelia cleared her throat.

"Oh, sorry," Angel apologized. "And Cordelia doesn't remember a thing so I..."

"As in she doesn't remember us? Sunnydale?" Dawn asked.

"Anything. She has amnesia," Angel said. "I brought her here hoping she'd remember something. Anything."

"What happened?" Buffy asked looking over at Cordelia.

"She was turned into a half-demon so she could still have the visions without dying. Then it turned out the kind of demon she was turned into was too good for this world. She was risen to the higher realm. We don't know how she came back and why her memory's gone," Angel laid out the history.

"Things got really weird over there, huh?" Buffy asked smiling.

"You're the one to talk," Angel reminded her that more than a year had passed since she had been resurrected.

"Good point," Buffy smiled. "I'm Buffy," she introduced herself to Joy, Connor and Cordelia. "And that's my little sister Dawn."

"Not that little," Dawn objected.

"Now let's see how you can sleep today," Buffy ignored her sister's words. "Dawn can come sleep in my room and Cordelia and Joy can take her room. Can you two manage with the living room?"

"Yeah, I can take the floor. I had worse," Angel assured the slayer.

"I'd give you your old place, but it'd be a bit crowded," Buffy told him smiling. She was referring to the place next to her bed, where he had slept for the very first time she had invited him in her house.

"It's okay," Angel told her returning the smile.

"Do I even want to know what that was all about?" Dawn asked and Angel suddenly realized he was kind of flirting with his ex in front of Cordelia. Not good, he thought. Sure Buffy held a special place in his heart, but he also loved Cordelia. And Buffy was the past and Cordelia, she was the present and hopefully the future. Joy followed the whole spectacle with interest. Maybe it wouldn't take too much to bring them back together. There was this...she didn't know how to name it, spark, this light of remembrance between them, a friendship, a love, a soothing completion of each other so strong it tied their souls together. It was beautiful. It wasn't the love her mother and father shared, it was different, it seemed like...like.... Magic, she thought and laughed at that word. What had been between her parents was a mutual comfort, they had loved, lost and been through hell and back, and all they had was each other. It was consuming, it was crazy, it was fire alive, it was death and life in one single thread, it was their eternal love. And one flame without the other would burn out, she thought bitterly.

"Fine, I don't want to know," Dawn said when Buffy gave her 'the look'. "But can we sleep in our room?"

"Yeah, sure," Buffy wanted to get Dawn off her back. She stopped herself before telling Cordy that she knows the way to the room. "Dawn, show Cordy and Joy where my room is. I'll make the beds here."

"Yes, sir," Dawn gave Buffy a military salute before guiding the two women upstairs.

"She's funny," Connor noted before asking for directions to the bathroom. Left alone, she and Angel started making the couch into a bed for Connor.

"I never thought this would happen," Buffy broke the silence.

"What?" Angel asked looking up from the pillow he was fluffing.

"That we'd be making your son's bed together," the slayer said as she put out a cover on the couch.

"You should've been there when I had to change dippers," Angel smirked.

"This story just keeps getting weirder and weirder," Buffy stated shaking her head. "So you want to fill me in on it?" Angel let out an unnecessary sigh.

"I'll cut it short, I'm kinda sick of the long version. Darla. Evil lawyers brought her back. She was human, dying, Dru turned her. She went evil. Again. Got obsessed with her. Had sex. Didn't lose my soul. Had a baby. Baby got stolen by revenge thirsty old man. They escaped into a portal. My son got raised in a hell dimension. Eventually came back. Revenge thirsty. Thinks I killed his adoptive father. Which I didn't. Threw me in a crate at the bottom of the ocean for the summer. Wesley found me. The end."

"The end? If he threw you at the bottom of the ocean and you came back, I really don't believe the story stops there. Totally unbelievable. I, for one, would've probably kicked his ass. Son or not," Buffy said as she sat down on the now made bed.

"I threw him out of the hotel," Angel said as to complete the story. "He's a good boy. He just grew up hating me. That won't go away from one day to another."

"I guess," Buffy thought he was right.

"So how are things with you?" he asked as she stood up to take out bed sheets for him.

"Pretty good. Got a job that doesn't imply great quantities of fat. On the other hand Sunnydale High reopened, which as you know means things are a bit more hellish," Buffy said as she laid the sheets on the floor.

"And what's this wonder job you got?" Angel asked as he laid a pillow down on the floor.

"You're looking at the new Sunnydale High counselor," Buffy stated in fake pride.

"You're kidding," Angel was surprised.

"Nothing like a little teen angst and demonic intervention to keep an old girl like me fit," the slayer smiled standing up.

"Old?" Angel grinned. "Wonder how you'd feel at 200 something."

"Like rattling bones in a coffin?" Buffy suggested smiling reminding him she, unlike him, was mortal. "You know, it's good to see you," the slayer told him.

"Yeah. Maybe we should do this more often," Angel suggested.

"Make your son's bed? Nah," Buffy faked a misunderstanding.

"No, this," Angel told her. "Talking."

"You know where it would eventually get us to," Buffy said and was about to leave for upstairs, but suddenly turned back towards him. "Can I have another hug?" she asked and Angel hugged her. "Welcome back."

"Thanks," Angel replied still not letting go of her. It just felt so right to hold her. Unknown to them, Connor was watching them from the threshold of the living room. He cleared his throat and the two broke away.

"Good night," Angel whispered.

"Good night, Angel," Buffy told him smiling before heading upstairs. "Good night, Connor," she told the boy before she disappeared. Connor stared after her for a moment, pensive. He wanted to know what exactly there had been between his father and this woman. He looked over at Angel and knew he would get no answer from him.

Joy was staring at the ceiling, a smile she just couldn't shake off imprinted on her lips. She was in the Summers house! She had met her mother and she had no idea of what was to come in the next few years. Oh, she wouldn't even be able to guess! And her aunt Dawn, exactly like her mother had described her. In some ways she wished she would have gone even further away in the past, so she could have meet her grandmother, of whom only a few half burnt pictures existed in her time and whose grave was buried under the ruins of Sunnydale. Not even that much was left of her. She only continued to live in the memories of those who had known her and survived Sunnydale. She felt sorry for Dawn - she felt sorry for too many, she taunted herself - she would go so young. Only ten years old if she counted the real time of her existence as human. She wouldn't die in Sunnydale, but a little later on. People said she went insane after the tragedy of the hellmouth. But Joy remembered her, an image that floated in her mind in a thick fog. A sad girl with hair as white as hers, with eyes as black and deep as the ocean itself. Why had her eyes gone from blue to black? She called them her eternal mourning. Once she had discovered that because she was created, not born, she could change her physical form as often as she liked, she had made her eyes black. Strangely enough, she didn't turn her hair back to brown. It was a statement of her survival. It screamed to the world, I've seen hell and it only made me laugh! She had become powerful and inhuman. She was beyond flesh, beyond life, she was eternal. Joy thought that to be the reason of her demise, but in the eyes of the world she had only been insane. As for her mother, she had never told Joy about it. She still thought she didn't know what happened to Dawn.

Maybe she should have died in Sunnydale, Joy thought. She closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath. She was sleeping in her mother's bed. The same bed she had slept in when she had been her age. She missed her so much...She looked over at Cordelia who was sleeping soundly on the other side of the bed. She felt out of place, Joy knew it. The only person that seemed to give her some kind of comfort was Connor. The feelings of the old Cordelia had surfaced, but she wasn't able to name them. She had strange feelings for Angel. Was it love? She often asked herself. Maybe it was and she was making a big mistake. And the slayer, she had awakened some sort of feeling of irritation and familiarity in her. Had she liked the slayer? Did she have some bone to pick with her? On the other hand, she felt good when she saw her. Can you miss and not like someone at the same time? She must have been a strange person, Cordelia had thought to herself.

The sun was peaking through the curtains of the room. Joy just couldn't find her place. She couldn't sleep knowing where she was and what she might be missing out on. She was too excited by the whole thing so she stood up and took out her glasses, put them on her nose before putting on her boots. She looked at her mantel disregarded on a chair. She didn't bother to put it back on. She had only worn it when she had gone to LA in her time, so she wouldn't be recognized. She was pretty known in the demon world and her appearance wasn't exactly something common, so she had taken one of the mantels her father wore to walk outside in daylight. She looked at herself in the vanity. Her hair was as white as always, the red lightning like symbol still crossed her face. There wasn't really anything she could do. On second thought she could do something. She wiped away the black lipstick.

"There, makes you look more human," she told herself out loud.

"Not if ya ask me," Jacques' voice said and she turned around to see the cajun standing with his arms crossed over his chest behind her.

"Gee, and me thinking you forgot about me," Joy smiled.

"I, chere? Never. Can't forget I got ya in this mess and I got to get ya out," Jacques reminded her. "So anythin' happen? Beside you meetin' your moma and tante Dawn?"

"Blacked out once," she told him as she stood up and looked at herself in the mirror again.

"Gotta keep in mind this ain't your time, Joycie. One too many memories of home sweet home and petite Joy, she is gone," Jacques warned her.

"Well, eventually, petite Joy will be gone anyway," she reminded him.

"Jacques still workin' on it," the cajun assured her, but Joy knew better. Once her parents won't be together anymore, she was going to fade away along with the future she called home. Bloody Joy would be gone forever.

"Let me know when you do," she told him before he disappeared. She could hear commotion outside. She looked at the clock. It was past 7 a.m. She glanced at herself in the mirror one last time before stepping outside the room and leaving Cordy to rest. She almost bumped into a furious Dawn who stormed to the bathroom door yelling for Buffy to get out already.

"Already out!" a voice yelled from downstairs.

"Then who..." Dawn started, but immediately realized who it was. "Willow!"

"All right, all right" the witch's voice was heard from inside.

"Willow?" Joy asked with a smile.

"Oh, hi," Dawn noticed Joy. "Willow lives with us. She's...like a family friend."

Willow marched out of the bathroom to Dawn's relief. She stared at Joy for a moment not recognizing her and then headed downstairs while Joy took some time to explore the rest of the floor. As Willow crossed the dark living room, she wondered what had happened the previous night. She remembered the ringing of the front door at some point in the night, but she hadn't bothered to wake up. She noticed someone was sleeping on the couch. No one she knew, she thought as she walked over to the curtains and pulled them open. The light revealed to her that there wasn't only one person in the living room besides her. She let out something like a screech, a held back scream. There were two and one was Angel, who was still his vampiristic self as she noted when the sleeve of his shirt caught fire. She quickly pulled the curtains back together and turned out his shirt with a small spell. She was surprised he hadn't woken up. Then again she was surprised he was there in the first place.

"Is it just me or there's a lot more people in this house than when I went to sleep?" Buffy rose her eyes towards her as she entered the kitchen. 'Angel?' Willow's lips formed the question without letting out a word.

"Yeah, he came this morning," Buffy told her as she flipped a pancake. "He has some demon business to take care of here. And I'm gonna help."

"Oh. Sure that's all? He didn't go evil or doesn't want to save you from a life of counseling disturbed teenagers?" Willow half-joked.

"No, nothing like that. He has a client with business here. Some demon related thing," Buffy assured her. Willow was skeptical of the whole thing, but didn't insist on the issue. Xander would come soon and he'd definitely insist on it. "It's gonna be just like old times. Not exactly like old times, but...you know what I mean," she looked at Willow for understanding.

"You're going to sneak into graveyards and instead of slaying you'll be making out? Those old times?" Willow taunted her with a smiled on her lips.

"No," Buffy tried to seem serious, but only managed to look silly holding back a big smile. "We used to do that a lot, didn't we?"

"Oh, and you thought no one knew," Willow reminded her. "But we did. You were even driving away the undead with those smooching sounds." Buffy chuckled. Those times seemed so worry free right then.

"Morning," Buffy welcomed Joy as she entered the kitchen.

"Good morning," Joy smiled. Everything felt so strange, yet so right. Her mother, her aunt Willow and Dawn... She wished time could somehow turn back and never change again. She just wanted this tiny corner of perfection, she asked nothing more of the world. Just time.

"Couldn't sleep?" Buffy asked as she flipped her pancake on the pile with the others.

"Yeah, kinda nervous about tonight," Joy told her as she sat down at the table. Mom never made pancakes, she remembered. She had to endure her uncle Remy's special gumbo surprise pancakes. Her stomach turned upside down just at the memory. He might've been a great wizard, but he was no cook. Or her father's funny shaped ones, but those weren't half bad. Her father had told her, her mother couldn't bring herself to do some things anymore. Like she couldn't fight demons or make pancakes, she thought. "I'm scared that maybe that cure won't work and I'll have to kill my brother. I don't want to do that."

"Don't worry. It'll probably work," Buffy tried to assure her, not sounding too convincing though. "This is Willow. She lives here. She moved in to take care of my sister while I was...indisposed."

"I'm Joy," she introduced herself to the witch she knew so well.

"Hi," Willow stole a pancake from Buffy's plate. "So I guess you're Angel's business, right?"

"Yeah, that'd be me," Joy said, unintentionally staring at her. Willow was one of the very few legends that still lived in her time and was as strong and glorious as in the past. She was still a powerful witch, she still fought evil, but unlike her past version the Willow she knew traveled the world constantly and had reached a great status of fame, controversy and wealth. She had gotten rich out of something she had considered an ethical problem that needed to be questioned, but instead it had been accepted as a cheap thrill by the masses, just another public display of one person thrashing another. But unfortunately the person Willow had attacked wasn't alive anymore to stand up to her accusations so Willow became one of the most controversial persons alive in her time. Her aunt, cause that's what Joy considered her to be, had told her that sometimes she was afraid someone would spit in her face or worse when she ventured into a supermarket. Joy had never hated her for what she had done and said, because unlike millions - billions of others, she knew she had been right.

Willow turned away uncomfortable under her glance. Only then Joy realized she hadn't blinked in the last couple of moments.

"What are you after? I mean what kind of demon are you after?" Willow corrected herself.

"Gholas," Joy simply said. Meanwhile in the living room, Connor stirred awake. Even if he was used to more commotion than the one coming from the kitchen - in Quor-toth he usually had to sleep through endless screams, mayhem and gore - somehow he just couldn't find his peace in this place. He picked up strange vibes from everybody in that house. The slayer, her sister, the witch who thought he had been asleep, but most of all it was that girl, Joy, she just did not belong in this world. His father was acting strangely and above all Cordelia wasn't feeling at place here. He stood up, for a moment contemplating if he should step on his father, but decided he liked him better asleep than awake. At least then his mouth was shut. He decided to go to the bathroom before going into the kitchen and freely expose himself to those people.

He climbed upstairs, passed by Buffy's room and stopped in his tracks. He cracked the door open and smiled when he saw the sleeping Cordelia. All he wanted to know was that she was okay. He closed the door and proceeded to the bathroom. He entered without knocking startling Dawn, who was busy putting on some make up and stealing some of Willow's perfume.

"Sorry," Connor apologized.

"It's okay. You have to..." Dawn pointed towards the toilet.

"Not really. I just..." he began and Dawn finished the phrase:

"Get away from the weirdness downstairs?" Connor nodded. "I know the feeling. But you get use to it. In time."

Dawn put on some of Willow's perfume. Connor pulled back.

"What is that?" he asked somewhat disgusted. It seemed to clog his senses, intoxicate him.

"Perfume."

"You smell better without it," Connor assured her.

"Not sure that's a compliment, but...thanks anyway," Dawn said thinking he was as strange as a person gets. "So are you gonna tell me what's wrong?"

"Something has to be wrong?" he asked not understanding where she was going.

"If Angel's around something has to be wrong, trust me," Dawn assured him.

"Tell me, what exactly was my father doing in Sunnydale before he went to LA?" it suddenly dawned on him she was the best source of information he could have. She definitely wouldn't go running to his father asking him why he wanted to know so much.

"Looking after Buffy. He was like her shadow. Actually that was in LA. We used to live there until mom and dad got divorced," Dawn told him. "Then we came to Sunnydale. And he kinda met her and boy did they hit off."

"You mean they were..."

"Together," Dawn nodded. "Not really the healthiest relationship, but they were in love. Maybe a little too in love."

"What happened after that?" Connor found the idea of his father in love intriguing. Could a monster like him really love? And worse loved back?

"Angel lost his soul. You know, because of that whole crappy happiness clause in his curse. And Angelus...well, not a nice guy. He killed Giles' girlfriend and a whole bunch of people and liked to torture Buffy most of all."

"So your sister exiled him to Los Angeles?" he asked.

"No," Dawn thought it was weird he thought Angel didn't have a soul now. "Angelus, Spike and Drusilla were planning this big apocalypse thing and Buffy had to stop them."

"Spike and Droosilla?" Connor asked confused.

"Drusilla. They're vampires Angelus made. Okay, so everybody thought Spike was in a wheelchair, but he wasn't and he hated Angelus' guts so he cut a deal with Buffy. She brought down Angelus and let him and Dru go. So there it was. Showdown between Buffy and Angelus. She kinda manages to beat him, but he opens a hell dimension and the only way to close it is to kill him."

"So why isn't he dead?" Connor was disappointed.

"He kinda was. Willow got his soul back, but she had to kill him anyway. She kissed him, put a sword threw him and let him be swallowed by the portal."

"How come he's still alive?" he had to admit the slayer was a girl after his own heart. If she'd put an end to his father permanently, he'd worship her forever. After all she had come close once.

"Evil thingie brought him back from hell after a couple of months. He spent a 100 years in hell time. He was like an animal or something for a while. They tried to be just friends, but that wasn't about to work. They got back together. Eventually. Then they realized kissing wasn't gonna cut it for the rest of their lives. Her life, anyway. So he did the best thing he thought he could do. He left. That's how he got in LA."

"Hmmm..." Connor didn't say anything. Even if his father wasn't considered to be a monster now, he could turn back to one anytime, the idea intrigued him. He wondered if there was a chance he could bring that monster back. Then no one would blame him for killing him and after all, it was that monster who had caused all of Holtz' misery. As for the soul, if it was true he had one, it would be at rest and he'd only be doing it a favor.

"Just say fascinating and I'll call mini-Giles from now on," Dawn threatened him when she saw him deep in thought.

"Mini-Giles?" Connor asked puzzled. She talked strange, like Cordelia sometimes did.

"Giles is my sister's watcher. Or used to be. He's back in England these days," Dawn said as she took one last look of herself in the mirror. "Are you coming down or are you moping a little more in the bathroom?"

"I..." Connor started

"Staying?" he nodded. "Figures you're Angel's son," she rolled her eyes before exiting the bathroom and heading downstairs. "Is that pancakes I smell?" she asked delighted as she sat down at the kitchen table. She looked at all the goodies gathered on the table and then said: "Wait a minute....Pancakes, chocolate syrup, cookies... Is the world going to end?"

"Dawn!" Buffy gave her a crossed look. "I cook a good breakfast once you're thinking some impending doom is closing in?"

"Once," Dawn pointed out. "Kinda used to the doublemeat burgers by now."

"How can anyone get used to those things," Buffy made a grimace.

"I like that...thing on your face," Dawn told Joy. "Buffy won't let me get a tattoo."

"Actually it's not a tattoo," Joy told them.

"Paint?" Willow suggested.

"Nope. It's like a scar," Joy said.

"Doesn't look like one," Buffy looked at it closer.

"Not that kind of scar. It's the imprint of a spell," Joy explained. Willow stared at her for a long moment.

"Must've been some spell. I made and seen quite a few, but none of them left marks. Not like that anyway," the witch told her wondering what exactly had been so special about this girl that she had survived a spell of such proportions.

"You could say it was something cataclysmic," Joy said not bothering to reveal the truth. Her scar as well as her white hair were her inheritance from the battle of Sunnydale, when she had been only an unborn child in her mother's womb. Such powerful magic had been unleashed upon her mother that only with the might of all her slayer ancestors she was able to escape with her life and that of her child intact. If Joy only bared a symbol on her face as well as white hair from the shock, her mother had a part of her back covered in such symbols. The Willow she knew revealed them to be in some ancient language. It said 'In this flesh lays the spirit of the undefeated. Those who search to enslave it will find nothing more than death. That which must be free will remain so for eternity.' Joy's symbol only meant 'Spared'. Sometimes it frightened her, because a wizard had once told her that the word that had spared her life would be the same one who will end it. She didn't understand what he had meant by it and didn't want to either. She felt branded by that symbol. And he who had carved it upon her flesh would one day come to claim her. She smiled to herself. What if there was nothing left to claim?

"See, she doesn't have a tattoo. I bet your parents didn't let you, right? Or your brother?" Buffy wanted to get Dawn's mind off any tattoo. She had had one once and she hadn't liked it.

"My parents are dead, my brother's a ghola, but I do have a tattoo," she said smiling at Dawn.

"Do teenagers always have to stick together?" Buffy looked at Willow who was still contemplating Joy. There was something strange, yet familiar about her. It was on the tip of her tongue, but she couldn't speak it for some reason.

"We're adults now, we're the bad guys," Willow replied with a smile after a while.

"So where is it? Can I see it?" Dawn asked eagerly.

"It's on my shoulder blade," Joy told her. "I'll show it to you when you come back from school, okay?"

"Cool," Dawn smiled satisfied.

Meanwhile far away in Los Angeles, Wesley entered the Hyperion Hotel to find a very drunk Lorne singing show tunes on the couch. He wanted to inform Angel on some potential remedy he had found for Cordelia's amnesia. It was pointless to ask Lorne anything as he soon found out. The demon had consumed his hidden bottle of scotch and apparently a bottle of Martini all by himself. Wesley thought this was still the aftermath of the hole that was made in his skull.

"Where is everybody?" he asked for the tenth time.

"Ever notice how after half a bottle Martini starts to taste like couch syrup?" Lorne asked, then seemed to finally remember him asking that question at some point. "Fred and Gunn are out....uhm doing something. And Angel's... I know where he is," he told Wesley as he desperately tried to recall where the vampire was. "He's...he's in Sunny...hale, bale, hell?"

"Sunnydale?" Wesley asked not having the patience to listen on to his ramblings.

"Bingo! He and queen C are there and that good for nothing kid of his," Lorne laughed.

"They went there to try to restore Cordelia's memory?" it seemed like a good idea, he had to admit it.

"Yes....no," Lorne suddenly remembered the excruciating detail he was trying to forget. He started crying. Wesley was a little shocked. Something was wrong. And it wasn't the hole in Lorne's skull. "It's that girl's fault. She lied about something...some ghola thing. Said they should all go to Sunnydale," the demon sniffed. "Better there. They'd die here," he rambled on. "We're all going to die!" he sobbed and suddenly hugged Wesley, squashing him in his arms. "Wait a minute, you're not going to die!" the host pulled away from him and his now stained shirt. "You're grave wasn't there..."

"What are you talking about? What girl? And where did you see graves?" the ex-watcher asked confused. He was mumbling non-sense, but it had to have a root somewhere.

"She sang. She has a beautiful voice, but the visions...uh!!! Horror.... She said it's the future. She was... stopping it," Lorne told him. "And....and...Angel fits somewhere there. Don't know how, but...she had to take him away. She *had* to and I let her cause she had to..."

"Who is *she*?!" Wesley asked. There was something foul and he was determined to get to the bottom of it.

"Joy," Lorne whispered. "Joycie, Joycie..."

"Joycie," Wesley repeated. That name! It had roots in Sunnydale... But surely it couldn't be the same Joyce. There was something very wrong. Like that mysterious portal that opened outside of LA the previous evening and to which none of his people seemed to find an answer to. He could feel something strange was in the air and promised himself he wouldn't rest until he'd find out what it was.

In Sunnydale, Joy stirred in her sit. Something was wrong. Something had set itself into motion, something that would jeopardize her mission. And even Jacques far away in future Los Angeles had felt it through the veils of time and through him the only column still standing between the world and its destruction, his mother, a great and powerful witch, Willow Rosenburg, had felt it too.

//Future New Orleans//

It came like a torment, sweeping the streets of its inhabitants. It did not care for human flesh, it did not care for the living. It stormed through, beneath and above buildings, it searched frantically for what it needed. Blood, but not of ordinary men, it wanted the blood of those that hunted it. Not far away, hidden in a cloak of invisibility, the witch caught her breath, it was too fast for her. It needed to be stopped and all that was left was she. Where were the times when she was just a useless pawn in the game of good and evil? Where were the times she only watched others fight while she hid away, frightened? Buried in the past, she answered herself as she, feeling the approaching danger, rose herself off the ground and still invisible, advanced through New Orleans like a tempest, bringing with it, only fury. It felt her, it knew she was there, it wanted her dead.

Willow decided running wasn't the best option. If it would not find her, it would look for her son and then Joy and kill them as it had killed the three slayers that had united against it. She thanked whatever powers the heaven held that her son was far away from New Orleans. It would be hard for it to find him there, in the gigantic steel maze that Los Angeles had become. She had only recently realized what he and Joy were doing there. It was a foolish plan, one she feared, because no matter what, it would alter her and every single particle of the existent world. And she'd forget herself and all things familiar to her. It was a frightening thought. She entered a large warehouse, with steel doors and let her cloak fade away into nothingness. It had already sensed her and was heading with all its speed towards her. It was the time to fight back, but she could not kill it.

It slammed into the shut doors with all its strength. The doors shook violently under the pressure. What was she supposed to do? She could not kill it, she doubted she could imprison it, but she promised herself to try, for the sake of her child, for the sake of humanity and for its sake. The doors burst open and it smiled viciously.

"There you are," it snorted and in the flash of a lightening, it attacked.

In Sunnydale Joy started breathing hard and her hands began to shake.

"What's wrong?" Buffy immediately jumped.

"Nothing. I-I just thought I saw something," Joy hid away her terrified face. Her aunt Willow wouldn't be able to fight it for long if what she had seen had been from the future. It had no mercy, it had no soul, it was a monster.

"Joycie, moma say she can't hold on much longer," Jacques told her, startling her even more. "You gotta move fast, petite."

"I'm doing the best I can," Joy whispered making sure no one else could heard her besides Jacques, but the cajun was already gone. Joy knew he was troubled by the situation. He feared for his mother's and his father's safety, but his mother's the most. Willow had hidden his father, Remy, after he had gotten hurt, somewhere where no one besides those who knew the craft could find him. But if it managed to get past his mother, it would know where his father was too, because once with the blood it stole its victim's memories as well. And Jacques could do nothing to prevent it, only die and follow them to the nether realm. Which he'd probably wind up doing anyway, if his parents were alive or not. Their last hope was Joy.

"Did you just say something?" Willow asked suspiciously, but Joy shook her head. The front door opened and Alexander Harris strolled in, seeming in the best of moods. Of course that changed once he passed through the living room and because of the dark tripped on Angel and went crashing down on the floor.

"You shouldn't put your..." he trailed off when he saw what exactly he had tripped on as Angel rose to his feet, a little groggy. "What is *he* doing here?" Xander pointed towards the vampire. "Is something wrong?"

"Does there have to be something wrong if I show up?" Angel asked pulling himself together. Buffy, Xander and Willow gave him a look that was a sure 'yeah'.

"No offense, but usually there is," Buffy told him before making a little shadow in the kitchen so he could come in.

"Oh, this is just great. I want to get away from a crazy vampire and I run into another," Xander said annoyed. He hadn't gotten a decent night's sleep since Spike had moved into his apartment. The thought of a mad vampire in the room next door just didn't seem to want to let him rest. Joy looked at him oddly. He was so different from the Xander Harris she knew. This Xander was young, careless, funny and...sober. The tragedy of Sunnydale would turn him into a bitter old man, with white strands of hair, wrinkles around his eyes, a fallen smile and an always full bottle of alcohol in his pocket. She didn't really like him and whenever he visited, a thing he did very rarely, she tried to avoid him. She didn't feel like listening to the blabbering of a drunk. But in many ways she felt so sorry for him, because he had missed his great chance to become the hero he had always wanted himself to be, a chance which was stolen by a kiss, by a demon he knew so well. Anyanka had died a hero in Sunnydale and even if he never admitted it and played an angry role whenever he was asked of it, he missed her and blamed himself for her death. Willow took him in whenever she ran across him in her long journeys and she was the one who gave him money monthly in a private account too. Xander never knew it was her money - he thought it was his share of the inheritance Giles had left them - and she didn't want him to find out either. No matter what state Xander would reach, Willow would never abandon him, because even if he was bitter, grim and drunk, under that sad exterior it was still the old Xander who loved even crayon breaking Willow, the evil witch who tried to destroy the world and plain Willow Rosenburg without her smoke and mirrors. Her mother had pitied him and never refused to welcome him in their house, but he would never stay long, he'd always eventually fight with her father. Spike couldn't understand this fatal change, and at some point Joy couldn't either, but now she knew better, pain changed people.

"A crazy vampire's after you?" Angel asked seriously.

"Oh, no, I live with one," Xander said casually.

"You live with a crazy vampire?" Angel was confused. "Are you...dating a vampire?" he tried. At first Xander laughed, then let out an ew, followed by a longer eeew.

"No, he's not," Buffy cleared the situation.

"But he's living with one," Angel pointed out. "Is he that desperate?" he asked trying to address Buffy alone, but found that the others could hear too.

"Hey!" Xander was offended. "It's Spike," he clarified.

"Spike?" Angel lifted an eyebrow. "Then you're the one who's crazy."

"It was her brilliant idea," Xander pointed towards Buffy. Angel seemed surprised.

"He's getting special treatment?" Angel looked over at the slayer who felt rather uncomfortable in the middle of this conversation.

"He...he got a soul, but something's driving him insane," Buffy told him trying to make it sound unimportant.

"Spike, with a soul?" Angel found the idea amusing. "No wonder he's insane," he chuckled. "Anyone who'd kill with that kind of sickening hatred and wake up in the morning with a conscience would go insane."

"It's not the soul. Or at least I don't think it is. Something's in that basement," Buffy told him, not finding the situation funny. Spike was in a terrible shape, he was confused, loathing himself and hurting himself. There was nothing to laugh about.

"Basement?" Angel asked still not wiping the smile off his face.

"Sunnydale High's basement," Buffy clarified. "I kinda bumped into him on the first school day when ghosts were haunting down there. I was freaked when I saw him, he's been missing for months."

"He was here before?" Angel asked even more confused. How did Spike fit into the scooby gang, especially since he only recently gained a soul?

"Yeah, he's been helping out for the last couple of years. Remember those soldier guys?" Angel nodded. "Well, they put a chip in his brain."

"He can't bite anyone anymore," Willow told him.

"A little out of need at first, but he helped out. He did turn on us a couple of times, but he was our number one source in the underworld, so we wound up needing him more than we thought," Buffy told him.

"And then he fell in love with Buffy and built that stupid robot..." Dawn stopped mid sentence realizing she had let her enthusiasm get the best of her. "Ops, I guess I shouldn't have mentioned that."

Joy stared at Dawn. Once all the truth got out, it wouldn't be so easy to get them back together. And unfortunately there was no way around it, she thought as she stared at the surprised Angel.

"In love with you?" the vampire repeated shocked.

"Is that so hard to believe?" Buffy's claws were beginning to show.

"Oh, look at the time," Xander suddenly said feeling a big Buffy-Angel marathon about to start. "Am I the only one who thinks it's kinda late?"

"You go ahead, I'm staying," Buffy said her eyes not unlocking from Angel's.

"But I'm definitely coming," Dawn said with a smile, knowing that if she'd stay Buffy'd eventually turn on her for starting the whole argument in the first place.

"And I have to go...uhm, to the library," Willow found an excuse quickly. "Joy, wanna come with me? We could look up gholas," she looked over at Joy and then whispered to her: "Come on, you don't want to be around for the fireworks. There's going to be screaming, fighting and possibly kitchen ware flying around."

Joy smiled, it sounded exactly like one of the many stories she'd grown up with. She nodded and decided to join Willow, Xander and Dawn in the car.

"I hope that house is still standing when we're back," Xander said sighing.

"We left poor Connor in there," Dawn suddenly remembered he was still in the bathroom upstairs. "If he's lucky, he'll sleep through the whole thing, but let's get real, that won't happen."

"Connor?" both Willow and Xander asked.

"Angel's son. The one he had with Darla?" Dawn suddenly realized they hadn't met him yet.

"There's something new. Vampires having children," Xander said shocked.

"But it's probably a one time thing with prophecies and stuff like that," Willow assured him. You'd be amazed, Joy thought.

"Would you mind if I'd hang around the highschool a bit?" Joy suddenly suggested. She had always wanted to see it in reality, the place where evil was unstoppable, and practically pounded under the floors of the building known as Sunnydale High.

"I guess that would be okay," Willow really needed to get back to studying anyway.

"Cool. I can say you're my cousin from...LA," Dawn smiled at the perspective.

Meanwhile far away, outside of Los Angeles, one of Wesley's men was guiding him to the warehouse where the strange portal had opened the previous day. He wasn't sure, but he thought it might have some connection to the girl Lorne kept on blabbering about. His head still hurt from all the 'not of this world' speeches he got from the drunk demon. Somewhere between the first and the twentieth time Lorne had repeated that phrase, Wesley had convinced himself the two events were tied together.

"Is this it?" Wesley asked as he entered the warehouse. "Doesn't look like..." his words trailed off as he noticed the huge crater in the middle of the building. "What could've done something like this?"

"You would've known if we would've figured it out," the man told the ex-watcher as he leaned on the wall and lit himself a cigar. "We tried everything. Telepaths, black magic, we tried finding residue, shadows, tracks...anything. This crater's all there is. That and the sighting of the portal. We got lucky Jeff was around here. He saw the whole thing. People ignored it as usual. Said it was a storm."

"Just like every time," Wesley noted as he touched the burnt earth that formed something like a crust around the crater. "It's still warm. Did your spells do this?"

"No. It's been like that since we found it," the man told him as Wesley took a little earth in his hands and smelled it.

"Hmm, it smells like...acid," Wesley said before standing up and with a scrutinizing gaze taking in the entire crater. "It's like a whirlwind," he pointed towards the lines outside the crater, the crates, or rather what was left of them formed a strange shape around the crater. "The portal practically burned whatever it is that came through it into the ground. Or..." he stepped inside the middle of the crater. The earth didn't smell like acid there. "It formed a protective shield around the person that came through, pushing all of the power outside it. Because it was forced outside, the power of the portal gained enough magnitude to burn the crater into the ground. The person remaining unharmed."

"But if the power got strong enough only when it was pushed outside, there's no point to building the shield. The portal wouldn't be strong enough to harm whatever came through it," the man contradicted him.

"Maybe it needed a shield. Depends what came through it. Where it came from," Wesley looked around himself. There was a way. An extreme way. It depended on how desperate he was to find out what came through that portal. It was dangerous, but somehow he felt that this small piece of information was vital. "I need you to go back in town and get me a few things," he turned determined towards the man who had accompanied him.

Back in Sunnydale in the Summers kitchen, Buffy and Angel were still staring at each other.

"Don't you think you're over reacting?" Angel asked as he thought to himself that he had almost forgotten how cute she looked when she was mad.

"Why?" Buffy asked her hands on her hips. "Because you suddenly think I'm not attractive enough to make even Spike fall in love with me?"

"Back up a moment," Angel told her. "I didn't say that. You could attracted an army of men, but Spike...It's...ironical."

"Like a vampire being in love with the slayer?" Buffy asked and Angel had to admit it had stung a little.

"Yeah," he agreed mostly just to tick her off. Agreeing would make Buffy much madder than disagreeing. Especially when it came to them. Something suddenly dawned on him. "You're trying to avoid something."

"What?" Buffy was acting pissed, but Angel could read the truth on her face. There was something she was hiding from him.

"You slept with him!" the vampire realized. "That's what that smell was. You..."

"Smell?" Buffy was about to let out an ew, horrified at the thought she somehow stank of Spike. It had been months since he had last touched her. Could have the smell persisted that long? Or had she unknowingly held on to it, as a memory of what had been good between them.

"How could you..." he said a little disgusted. He told himself he wasn't aloud to judge her, he had done so much worse in his lifetime as a good and evil vampire, but he couldn't hold back. This was his slayer, the one person who was sat on the highest pedestal in his mind, the one who was in his heart an eternal hero, who would be too righteous to lower herself to the level of a vampire like Spike. He suddenly remembered the state she had been in the last time he had seen her. Maybe it had been a desperate cry for help. A cry he willingly ignored.

"Because *he* was here," Buffy's voice rose higher hiding a bitter tone behind it. From the living room, where he had desperately tried to fall asleep again, Connor rose to his feet, annoyed. Standing in the kitchen doorstep, he gazed from Buffy to Angel.

"Would you mind keeping quiet?" he asked sleepily before adding to Angel's annoyance: "And what are you complaining about, father?" he pressed that word. "I thought you were in love with Cordelia now," the boy returned to the living room, satisfied with himself, leaving a wicked smile to cross his lips before crashing back down on the couch.

"So that's it..." Buffy was about to explode.

"Buffy, calm down," Angel tried to reason with her, but it was too little too late.

"Don't you tell me to calm down! How can you come to Sunnydale, in my house and play the offended one when all the time you're doing...god knows what with Cordelia in LA. Oh," she suddenly realized something. "That's why you're really here, aren't you? To get her memory back. Cause she doesn't remember you now, does she? You just wanted to speed things up, so you could finally be back with her!"

"Buffy, don't do this," Angel tried one last time.

"Do what? Assume I'm the only one you couldn't have a relationship with? I'm really starting to wonder if you just didn't want us to work. I mean, look at you now, in your happy little life. With your son. Your girlfriend. Cordelia for god's sakes!" Buffy yelled.

"She's not the girl you used to know," Angel said and realized that was the worst thing he could've said.

"Oh, yeah, stand up for her, sure gonna make me feel better," Buffy gave him a cross look before turning away from him.

"Look," Angel came up behind her, not wrapping his arms around her or anything, just standing there. "It wasn't about Cordelia. I promised Joy I'd help her out and I will. I only thought of Cordelia after I agreed to come here," he let his chin fall on her shoulder. He was keeping his own nerves at bay. The idea of her and Spike together was just too horrible for him to bare and it was obvious she cared for him. That's what made him mad. Sex was sex, but love was different. He wanted her to accept his love for Cordelia, but he didn't want her to love another. At least not Spike. It was a selfish thought, he knew, but it came too natural to hold it back. After all he had abandoned her so she could have at least one normal thing in her life. A lover with a beating heart, but she was too stubborn to see through that. "So are you and Spike still...."

"Together?" Buffy asked, the rage that had a couple of moments ago vanished returning. "I don't think that's any of your business."

"I know you're not sleeping with him anymore," Angel said and Buffy was very close to slapping him across the face.

"Lucky you have your super senses. Guess what? I don't. Are you sleeping with Cordelia? You know I can't smell a thing," Buffy gave him an acid smile.

"I don't want to do this," Angel said enraged now too.

"Funny. You keep starting it," Buffy pointed out. Angel remained silent. "Fine. I think I should go to work. We'll hunt tonight and that's it."

"Fine," they stared at each other for a moment before Buffy stormed out and Angel went back in the living room and tried to go back to sleep, both feeling miserable for that they'd said, both thinking they were right. Connor stared at the ceiling. This was getting more interesting by the minute.

Back in the warehouse outside of Los Angeles, Wesley's man was finally returning with the things he had requested.

"What exactly are you planning to do?" the man asked Wesley while he handed him a brown paper bag. "This wasn't easy to get. Luckily I wasn't the one who had to...remove it."

"Dead men don't need hearts. Especially if it helps us out," Wesley said as he looked inside the bag to make sure it was what he needed. He drew a symbol in the middle of the crater and put the heart on it.

"That's it?" the man asked Wesley as he looked at the symbol, making sure he had drawn it correctly.

"It needs one more thing," Wesley said taking out a dagger from his pocket and cutting right on his wrist without flinching an instant. As the blood dripped on the dead heart, the symbol came alive, swallowing the organ in its depts. "Coeme devire essere denkaram," Wesley spoke in an old language as he sat himself and his bleeding wrist in the middle of the symbol, while his man watched with fascination. It was black magic. The old sort that saw the light of day every few decades if not centuries.

Something like a current formed around Wesley, seeming to want to push him upwards, but his feet were set down firmly. This particular spell recreated the exact feelings and consequences of other spells. It wasn't long before Wesley lost himself in a torrent of images that did not come of this world. He saw a far away place, and a far away house, where oddly enough he felt as if he belonged. He saw swings in a garden and three children playing. A girl with white hair, a boy with red hair and the hypnotizing eyes of a mystic and another boy, with a somewhat sad smile, with chocolate eyes and black hair. That third child seemed to stare at him and he pitied him, without knowing who he was. He just knew something terrible had happened to him or would happen. Then the world went speeding by him and he found Los Angeles and many graves beside it. And in this Los Angeles he could feel nothing of the old, only one thing stirred memories inside him. A memorial house with Fred's name on it. Something screamed from under that steel giant, something that held remembrance and strangely, death. Then he found himself inside a building that he knew was the warehouse he was in, but in another time. He saw a young man with red hair and knew he was the boy in that garden and his eyes had not changed over the years. He asked: "Are you ready?" and Wesley nodded. Before something took him away he saw a sad young woman staring back at him from a mirror. She had white hair and green eyes he had seen that sad before on her mother. A bad feeling overcame him as he watched that image, a feeling of something horrible to come. He went crashing back into the warehouse, the crater recreating itself as he did. He landed on the floor barely conscious. He knew why she was there or at least he assumed he knew. That girl was there to kill both Buffy and Angel and he had to get to Sunnydale to stop her.

On the hellmouth, in the corridors of the Sunnydale High, Joy Summers fell to the floor. Someone seemed to have entered her mind, violating her most hidden thoughts. As she lay unconscious on the floor and people roamed around her, she saw flashes of what was happening back home. She knew they came from Willow through the mental connection they shared. She saw her being hunted through the streets of New Orleans by something. She saw it rip through the doors of the warehouse Willow had hidden in. She heard its voice full of hatred. Joy woke up crying in the nursery of the highschool.

"Are you all right?" Dawn asked concerned.

"I'll be fine," she said knowing that was a complete lie. It was dangerously near Willow and it might be unstoppable. Even for Willow. Because it was her mother.

Joy stood up, her head hurting like hell. She must've had some fall on the corridor. She could feel her arm was bruised as well. She looked around the little nursery of the school. The nurse was nowhere to be seen, but Dawn was there and she seemed concerned. The slayer's little sister had planned on bragging with her LA cousin, but found that she had been terribly frightened when Joy had passed out. It was a strange feeling she couldn't name. Like that girl with the white hair had some great importance in her life, like if she were to die some part of the universe would collapse. It was odd, especially for Dawn. She wasn't really the type who attached to people easily, but whoever this girl was, her blood was crying out to her to protect her, to keep her safe. How am I suppose to do that? Dawn asked herself as she wasn't able to shake off that feeling.

"I freaked for a moment there," Dawn told Joy with a smile. "I don't usually get freaked out over a total stranger."

"Is that a hint?" Joy asked rubbing her sore arm.

"It's probably because you came with Angel," Dawn tried to rationalize that strange feeling she had. "Or I'm suddenly turning gay," she thought in horror.

"Don't worry, you're a 100% straight, I guarantee it," Joy assured her. "It's probably just the energy contained within you that can pass beyond the barriers of all time and dimension and that is probably screaming at the top of its omnipotent lungs about now: relative, relative."

"Huh?" Dawn wasn't able to understand anything beyond the relative part because Joy had said it too fast.

"Everybody gets freaked when someone just happens to drop like dead next to them," Joy told her, not bothering to explain what she had said before. "Shouldn't you be in class?

"The teacher said I can sit here till you wake up and if I'm lucky she'll let me take you home so I'll ditch the whole horrible day. Math is so not my subject," Dawn seemed to feel better now that Joy was okay. "Do you go to school? You look like you're about my age."

"Yeah, you could say I do," and she added to herself: 'or did'. She had gone to a highschool in the not so mystical side of New Orleans, but she hadn't really enjoyed it much. Kids still called the place she lived in the bad side of town, because the police didn't rule there, the mystics did. They had often thought her a freak and her relation to Willow Rosenburg hadn't really improved her image. To people who feared magic and still didn't admit the existence of demons - and there were quite a few - Willow Rosenburg's actions had been horrendous.

Highschool was something Joy did because her mother had insisted she get an education that didn't imply stakes, axes and a good punch and that would eventually allow Joy to follow the school of her dreams. It was a British school Giles had talked to Buffy about. A place of higher learning where great mystics met and taught beyond magic, the old ways and where she would have been safe. Joy didn't know how she was able to stand that New Orleans highschool for 2 years. Her friends all pretty much got their education from Remy's school of witchcraft. She would've gone there too, but her father didn't want her to go anywhere near witchcraft and she had to admit it to herself she wasn't really fascinated by it either. Magic was Jacques' territory. It was a passion he had inherited from both his mother and father. But now, she thought bitterly, there was no way she could make it to the British Greenleaf University. She would not live to see the green paths hidden behind the iron gates of the GU or the infamous classrooms where floors were ceilings or the stairs that twisted into infinite circles and the gigantic dome of the library changing it's picturesque paintings according to the seasons - white mountains and wolves in winter, endless fields of flowers and birds in spring, crops and a torturing sun in summer and vineyards and colored leafs in autumn. She sighed. I could leave now and never look back, she thought, I could live in this time and forget about mine. She stared at the wall in front of her, she knew she couldn't do it and even if she did, the future would catch up with her. She even believed her mother would be capable of traveling back into the past just to kill her. And if there was one thing she had sworn to avoid at all cost it was having to kill her own mother. Even if she was a monster now. She could never bring herself to do it. She preferred to change the past and bring forward an unlikely future. But at least then, she thought, I wouldn't have to be the one who has to find an answer. Maybe she was a coward, but she didn't care.

"Where are you from anyway? You sound British," Dawn said, not noticing the shadow that had passed across Joy's face.

"Half-British," she corrected her. "I spent a few years there. I never managed to shake the accent. My dad used to say it's because it's in my blood." Her father had often taken her to England, a lot of times at Giles' country estate, so she had spent a lot of her summers there. Spike felt she needed to know all her roots. Her mother had taken her to Sunnydale so he had taken her to Britain. Her mother claimed that she had taken her to LA too, before the great transformation, when Angel and his crew had still been alive. She also said that she used to give Wesley a hard time when she would occasionally leave her in his care. Messing about in his weapon closet and shooting stray arrows from crossbows all around his apartment. Surprisingly, even if Wesley had changed on the outside, Joy had melted his rough exterior for the time of her visit. Joy wished she could remember anything, but the first years of her life, like everybody's, were just a big blur.

"My dad's in Spain. Somewhere," Dawn said with sadness in her voice. She hadn't seen her father in years. "So think we can ditch school and raid the mall?" she suggested pushing away the sad recollection.

"Sure, if I can get up," she tried to rise, but she turned her head directly towards the window. Outside the sun was shinning happily. She let out a cry and fell back down.

"What's wrong?" Dawn asked prepared to call the nurse from the principal's office at once.

"My glasses...Where are they?" she rubbed her sore eyes.

"Oh, here, I took them when you fell so they wouldn't get trampled on. They look pretty expensive," she handed her the glasses from her bag.

"They are. They're made out of ruby. My eyes are sensible to the light," she explained as she put them on. It was another one of the bad things caused by her vampire heritage. She had gotten the glasses from her aunt Willow. After finding her crying in the house on a sunny day when she was little, because she couldn't go outside, the sun hurting her, not being able to fix the problem through magic, Willow had consulted some specialists who had come up with the glasses. Joy had been so happy. She could finally play outside without being afraid.

Joy got up and with Dawn's help left the nursery. In the hallway they met the nurse and while Dawn was busy explaining to the nurse that she was going to get Joy home so she could rest properly, something caught Joy's eye, or rather her senses. A door leading to the basement. It seemed to call out to her, something wicked... It oozed of evil and she felt an unhealthy attraction towards it. And there was a song. A mesmerizing beat that seemed to draw a part of her in, but the other side of her screamed for her to leave right then. That part of her knew what that song was.

"Dawn, can we go now? I don't feel so good," she interrupted Dawn's conversation with the nurse.

"Go," the nurse told Dawn, understanding. As she disappeared, Joy asked:

"Would you mind if we just get some ice cream or a banana split instead of going to the mall?"

"As long as I'm not in my math class right now I'm okay with it," Dawn said happily as she guided her out of the highschool. Once outside, Joy felt safe and out of the reach of whatever demonic being was hidden beneath the school.

Back at the Summers house, Cordelia was finally awake and still trying to recall the place. She walked in each room of the upper level feeling lost. The house seemed familiar in some way, but she couldn't place it anywhere in her past. It wasn't her own, yet she felt it held a great deal of memories. Memories she could no longer reach. She went downstairs and found Connor and Angel both asleep or pretending to be. She smiled, Connor had such a serene face when he slept, Angel on the other hand seemed tormented by something and she felt it wasn't always so. She stepped into the kitchen trying to make as little sound as possible. Where did she know this place from? It reminded her of drinks, snacks and endless discussions. Of what? She could not recall. She just felt some of them had frightened her.

"Hey, Buff!" she heard someone yell as the front door opened and closed. Xander entered the kitchen and was surprised to find Cordelia there. "Hi, Cordy."

"Hi yourself..." she obviously had known him at some point in her life. She wished someone would be there to tell her who he was and to explain her condition to him. There was a long moment of embarrassing silence.

"Let me guess. You're playing big city girl who can't remember the little people anymore? What? The overwhelming fame got to you?" he gave her his best sarcastic tone.

"I was famous?" was the only reply he got.

"Come again?" Xander began suspecting something was wrong.

"Look, I'm sorry, but I kinda lost my memory and if you'd fill me in on what ever kind of history we have together, I'd really appreciate it," she told him. "Angel didn't bother to fill in the blanks when we came here."

"Really? And how did this little predicament happen?" he wanted to know.

"If I'd remember I'd tell you," Cordelia felt strange around him, she wanted to bicker with him over nothing and was contented to see him at the same time. "Did I hate you?" she suddenly asked.

"Well...I wouldn't say that. Close to hating at some point, but I kinda hoped you were over that."

"Why would I hate you?" Cordy inquired.

"You'll probably-eventually find out or remember so I guess I should tell you... We used to be together in highschool, you picked on me for a couple of years before that. I sorta cheated on you with my best friend. Whose a girl. Willow in case you met her," he told her the truth. "Who kinda turned gay a couple of years ago."

"You cheated on me with a lesbian?" she couldn't believe it. "You're one twisted son of a..."

"Thank you, and if you want to smack me around a bit I also left my girlfriend at the altar," Xander thought that would be her reaction, but didn't blame her for it, especially now that he had been through something similar with the whole Anya and Spike deal.

"No wonder I hated you," Cordelia was appalled.

"You kinda got over it before you left Sunnydale, what with the Mayor turning into a supersize snake and trying to eat everyone at graduation. There's a tendency not to hold a grudge with an impending doom closing in," Xander remembered the last weeks of highschool.

"I wouldn't know. Or remember actually," Cordy's head hurt from all the sudden information. "No offense but you don't seem my type."

"What's your type then? Tall, dark and handsome? Or British and bookish? Why you had a crush on Wesley and no relationship to Angel?"

"I had a crush on Wesley? The dark-always-seems-to-have-an-apocalypse-on-his-mind guy? And I didn't have a relationship with Angel here?" she seemed surprised which Xander thought to be strange.

"Sure, maybe if you had a chance you would've tried something, but as we all painfully remember Angel and Buffy were glued together at the time," he explained.

"So they were together and that's why Angel and I never had anything," Xander nodded.

"Besides I don't think you're Mr. Brood-a-lot's type. He likes his women dead and dangerous or angsty fighting machines," Xander pointed out. "And not really all that superficial," he stopped, knowing he had said something bad.

"I'm superficial?" Cordy couldn't believe it. And Angel was in love with her whatever this guy said, she felt the truth and saw it in the vampire's eyes. He would've done anything for her.

"You used to be. Maybe you're not anymore. Haven't really seen you in a while," Xander tried to repair the damage.

"What's your name anyway?" she realized he hadn't introduced himself yet.

"Oh, sorry, I'm Xander," he found the whole situation funny.

"Hey, you're up," Connor appeared in the kitchen smiling at her.

"And you'd be...Connor, right?" Xander asked. He could definitely see parts of Angel in him. "Hey, your mom tried to bite me a couple of times."

"You knew my mother?" Connor questioned surprised.

"Before your dad killed her," Xander again thought he had said something inappropriate. "And before she...miraculously came back to life," Angel had shared Darla's story only with Buffy so Dawn wasn't able to tell him and Willow much about Connor's strange birth. "But she didn't really give me the time of day. It was just 'I want to eat you grrr'."

"She was a monster," Connor said taking Cordy and Xander by surprise. They didn't know that he had been raised to hate both his parents, not only his father. "Did you sleep okay?" he turned to Cordelia.

"Yeah, surprisingly well," she didn't know how come, but she had the sensation she believed people who felt at home had. Even if she felt odd not remembering anything or anybody, there was a strange ease inside her, like she was safe there.

"Where's Buffy anyway? I wanted to talk to her," Xander remembered why he had come there.

"She left," Connor said with a smile.

"Well, at least they didn't punch out their differences," Xander sighed. "I'm just gonna go then. Cordy, nice seeing you again and nice to meet you Connor," and with that he was off.

"Can you believe I used to date him?" Cordy was amused.

"You did?" Connor felt a twist of jealousy inside. From the living room Angel had listened to their conversation pretending to be asleep. He hoped that their trip to Sunnydale would at least pay up for Cordelia.

That afternoon as the sun lowered itself on the horizon, the inhabitants of the Summers house began returning home. Buffy wasn't really glad to find Angel, Cordy and Willow in such good spirits when she arrived, while Connor watched over them with an observer's interest, making Angel feel slightly awkward. The vampire and Willow were trying to trigger memories inside Cordelia with stories of their past together, their many battles and adventures. When the slayer entered, Willow was in the middle of the story of Xander's love spell gone bad. Cordelia laughed at the thought of Xander being chased through town by a mob of women desperately in love with him.

"Hi," Angel was the first one to notice Buffy.

"Hey, I was just telling Cordy some stories from the good old times," Willow said, but her smile faded when she saw the slayer wasn't really cheery. "Is something wrong?"

"Everything's fine," she said, but her face said something was definitely wrong, but Willow didn't know if it was some great doom or something else.

"So are we gonna go slay those things today or what?" Buffy asked annoyed.

"The sun didn't quite set yet," Angel pointed towards the covered windows of the kitchen behind which the rays of a weak sun still shined.

"Never stopped you before," Buffy reminded him in an unpleasant tone. Willow was beginning to understand what was wrong. The Buffy-Angel incident from that morning hadn't ended well. They usually did, but, she thought to herself, every rule has at least one exception. Connor had passed from observing to being extremely amused. With any luck the slayer would get so tired of his father she'd stake him.

"We have to wait for Joy, we don't want to kill her brother," Angel felt frustrated by the whole situation.

"Right now, doesn't matter what I kill as long as I kill something," the slayer said feeling the need to kick some serious ass. Angel didn't have time to reply as Joy and Dawn entered the kitchen, both very happy, holding ice-cream cones.

"Ice cream? Isn't it a little cold for that?" Willow asked but Dawn shook her head.

"It's never too cold for ice-cream. Besides Sunnydale doesn't really get cold cold," Dawn said taking a lick from her cone.

"You just better not wake up with your throat sore," Buffy warned her sister. Joy noticed the slayer wasn't in the best of moods. She must've fought with Angel.

"So how do you like Sunnydale so far?" Willow asked Joy. She had a strange feeling about her. Like she didn't fit in with the picture, like she was torn from somewhere and forcefully put in this reality. She could see the universe twisting, turning and screaming around her. She did not belong there.

"Like your average hellmouth I guess," Joy answered. Actually the whole town seemed to press down upon her heart, like a mountain, crushing her. Everything living in that city seemed to yell at her to let known the truths she hid, begging for her to spare it and its people. Why would she let it be destroyed? With a few words she could let it live...But no, it wasn't meant to be. Some things could be changed, but some should remain as they were. Sunnydale was better off dead, she would let only few die in order to save the generations that would suffer from its survival. The hellmouth had to be closed. Forever.

"There's more than one?" Connor asked curious.

"I hope not," Buffy said horrified at the thought. "So now that everyone who has to be here is here, I say we go slaying."

"Well spoken," Joy agreed with her. "And on that subject, I think I know where the nest is."

"You haven't wasted your time," Willow noted.

"Gholas are easy to track. Less rats, more smell. They're in the sewers," Joy told them.

"You went in the sewers?!" Buffy shot Dawn an irritated glance.

"No, she didn't. I checked it out when she was standing in line at the donut shop. I didn't go too near them, they have keen senses. I didn't want them to feel my presence," Joy explained. "So do we split up or something? It would be better if we could surprise them from the back."

"Yeah, I guess that's a good tactic," Angel agreed. "Me and Buffy go in from the front and you and Connor go from the back."

"I thought I'm staying with Cordelia," Connor reminded his father of the reason he came along.

"She'll be safe with Willow. She's a witch," Angel tried to assure his son.

"You can stay with her," Buffy decided. "I'm gonna go with Spike from the front. Angel and Joy take the back. I did mention Spike's coming, didn't I?" she asked with a wicked little smile on her lips. There was a moment of silence in which Angel and Buffy stared at each other.

"Who's Spike?" Cordy interrupted their silent dispute.

"A vampire one of my children made," Angel told her.

"And whose technically harmless now and currently lives with Xander," Dawn added.

"Is that why Xander was here this morning?" Cordy asked.

"Yeah, he told Spike about the demons and he wanted to come along. I said yes," Buffy admitted. No one noticed that the sun was slowly, but surely setting. There was a knock at the door and Joy started fidgeting about, nervous at the encounter, while Angel looked away from the others trying to conceal his anger. But it was obvious to Connor, who just continued to smile. Cordelia understood him. You're bound to get jealous over your ex's new lover, whoever he may be. As Spike entered the room, it was quiet.

"I don't know about you lot, but I feel like I could kill a bloody army," he stated breaking the silence. "Living with that boy is enough to turn any person into a homicidal maniac," he shivered. "Well, if it isn't the big poofer himself," he said when he noticed Angel at the table. "No hard feelings, mate?" he extended a friendly hand, but his grandsire would not take it.

"Let's go," he simply said standing up.

"What's his bleeding problem?" Spike asked, then gave Buffy a quick look that showed his fears. But as his gaze wondered in the room, his eyes set themselves on Joy. Instinctively Joy took off her ruby classes so he could get a better look at her. The vampire lowered his head towards his shoulder as if she'd look different from another angle. What was wrong with this girl and why was that wrong so familiar to him? He asked himself.

"Spike?" Buffy asked trying to snap him out of his concentration. It was time for them to go. Suddenly the vampire moved with great speed throwing Joy into the wall and then pulling her up by her neck, pinning her there.

"Who the bloody hell are you? Tell me! Tell me! Who are you?!" he screamed at her, but Joy would say nothing. She just sat there, not breathing, yet not choking either. The slayer immediately reacted moving towards Spike and pushing him away from Joy, sitting herself between the girl and the vampire.

"What's wrong with you?" Buffy asked him and Spike just sat there blunt like he didn't understand what he had just done. Then he felt his sanity slowly slipping away like sucked out of him by some great black hole - Joy - and that blurry state overtaking him. The world wasn't the world anymore but a weary mass of energy and evil that presented itself so purely to him that he couldn't hold a rational thought within him. This new world had no reason only chaos and there, everything was clear to him. In this state he stared back at the girl now standing behind the slayer. Joy neared him ignoring Buffy's pleads. And Spike could see through her, she wasn't born or made, and that blood... it smelled so much like something he'd tasted before and those piercing green eyes...white, white, why was the hair white? He reached out to touch it. Joy didn't pull back. Green eyes, green eyes, green eyes, it was all his mind could register. Something stolen, something living, something dark and scary.

"Get away!" he suddenly pushed the girl away. "I know what you are! Bad bad! I can hear it. It's inside your head. You think I can't see it?! Do you think I'm blind?! You're a stupid girl coming here....I know what you are!!!" he yelled then his mood changing as quick as his sanity, he kneeled down next to Joy and whispered: "Why did you come here? It's all going to end soon. All like it's supposed to. Don't cry over broken things, they're not worth it, luv."

Joy startled. It sounded like her father had spoken to her, knowing what she was going through, what she was about to do. Her heart melted and she felt like collapsing crying in his arms, but she could not. I miss you, she only thought, while the disturbed vampire ran out in the streets feeling like her presence was intoxicating him.

"Spike! Spike!" Buffy tried to stop him, but he just pushed her out of the way and ran as fast as he could down the street.

"Okay, now I know what an insane vampire sounds like," Cordy said a little terrified of what she had just witnessed.

"I don't know what went wrong," Buffy was worried. "This hasn't happened since I got him out of the basement. Maybe he freaked out because some people were rude," she shot Angel a look.

"I'm sure that was it," Angel said annoyed.

"Probably just the shock of seeing you again after so much time...now that he has a soul and everything," Joy suggested.

"He seemed more shocked to see you," Willow said suspiciously.

"I look a little weird, I gotta admit it," Joy played it as a joke promising herself to calm down Spike as soon as she could. Preferably that night while everyone else was sleeping.

"So it's just the three of us," Buffy disregarded Willow's words.

"If she's safe, I'll come too. I won't do her much good sitting here. Willow can tell her more of those stories," Connor said suddenly changing his mind, he was curious to see how the slayer and this strange girl fought.

"Then me and Connor we'll take the back and you and Angel take the front," Joy decided before Buffy could have a word in it. The vampire and the slayer both mumbled a fine and they left. Joy had been lucky to find the demon nest in the sewers that day. Not quite gholas, but very close to them. A rare vicious species with gooey green blood was close enough for her. She'd convince Connor to attack earlier and the boy would definitely take the chance to prove to his father he can take an entire nest down with a little help. Connor wouldn't know the difference between gholas and this species. The problem was Angel. She'd have to make enough of a mess for him to not recognize the demons. Disfigurement would be the proper word, she thought. If she was right, Angel would be too busy with Buffy to notice her little switch in demon species. It was a long shot, but she hoped she could pull it off.

Buffy and Angel entered the sewer Joy had found the nest in without speaking a word to one another. Angel was mad that Buffy had even thought of bringing Spike with them knowing how much it bothered him, while the slayer couldn't get the image of him looking so lovingly over at Cordelia in *her* kitchen out of her head. As they advanced the silence between them became uncomfortable and they found themselves both thinking it was about time to put an end to it.

"You had no..." Angel spoke at the same time with Buffy who said: "How could you..." They stared at each other for a moment.

"So are these gholas hard to fight?" Buffy decided to start with something off topic.

"A bit," he went along with it. "Their heads are so hard you can barely crack them open, even with that," he pointed towards the ax she carried.

"Hard heads," she repeated. "Always hard to crack."

"Sometimes human ones are harder."

"Are we still talking about cracking heads?" Buffy asked. Angel let out an unnecessary sigh.

"Why did you have to call him?" he eventually gave in to the real topic that they wanted to discuss.

"I didn't. Xander said he was getting feisty. He was afraid he'd rampage his apartment or something if he didn't get some action," she stopped realizing her choice of words wasn't really the best. "Demon killing action."

"And you thought by telling him to come with us you'd be doing something for the greater good?" Angel wasn't going to let her off easy this time.

"He would've come anyway," Buffy rose her voice so it sounded a bit more empowered now.

"You should've let him," he told her angrily.

"What is your problem?" Buffy jumped. "It's okay for you to make googly eyes at Cordy all day and I can't let Spike slay with me because you're suddenly feeling jealous? Maybe you should've thought of that 4 years ago when you literally walked out on me!"

"I walked out on you because I wanted you to be..." he started.

"Bla bla bla...I've heard it a thousand times and every time it sounds less convincing," she interrupted him.

"I wanted you to be happy!" he continued and then, not holding back his anger yelled: "And look where it got you, in bed with Spike! If you just wanted to get..." that was the last straw as Buffy didn't even wait for him to finish the phrase and punched him in the face. He was happy to return the hit. It wasn't long before they got into a serious fight and forgot all about the gholas, Joy, Connor and for the moment, even Spike and Cordy. If love made you feel like you are the only two existing in the world, pain and a good fight made you forget about everything. Even who you love.

Somewhere else in the sewers Connor and Joy had found the nest and all its demons awake. They made a hansom fighting couple, because after all, Connor fought like Angel and Joy fought like her mother.

While these two fights were stirring the otherwise deaf silence of the sewers, a car passed the Welcome to Sunnydale sign and inside it was none other than Wesley Wyndam-Pryce, feeling still as troubled as in the moment the spell in the warehouse had ended. Like something grim was silently slipping inside the world - his world - and devouring it alive.

"You won't believe me, but I sorta missed this," Buffy said, bruised and tired after their fight was over. She couldn't really tell who had eventually won, all she could remember is both of them falling off their feet at some point, too spent to carry on.

"You won't believe me, but I missed it too," Angel smiled with his lips bloody from a punch she had thrown. They had forgotten all about the gholas... Connor and Joy had been overpowered at some point and only thanks to Joy and a lightning spell they managed to come out of the fight alive.

"But you know we're going to have to tell the others we ran into some other demons right?" Buffy asked or ratter stated.

"Can you imagine what they'd say if they'd found out what happened?" Angel smiled.

"The eye rolling would never stop," Buffy chuckled.

"Why were they always like that?" he turned his head to look at her. He hadn't hit her in the face during the fight intentionally. She, on the other hand didn't seem to have held back at all, he noted as he touched a nasty bruise right under his left eye.

"I don't know. Maybe we were a little over-dramatic, but it wasn't like we could help it. That's what our relationship was: super-angst, bad things, sewer talks like this one and a lot of making out to cover for the rest," she smiled.

"Yeah, that was the best part," he teased her. They both knew their relationship had meant much more than that.

"Better than slaying. Though Giles always thought it was a distraction," she remembered.

"You used to tell Giles what we did in the graveyard?" that would explain why the watcher had given him odd looks before he had turned evil. He was embarrassed just at the thought.

"Well, yeah, he was my watcher after all," she said acting very serious. "Kidding!"

"If my heart would be beating I'd be having a heart attack about now," he said relieved that it had only been a joke.

"Why I like my men dead. No heart problems," she said but quickly understood that even if it had been a joke, Angel wasn't comfortable with it. There was a moment of silence.

"You know, I'm not really all that happy in my 'little life'," Angel finally said what he had wanted to tell her that morning at the house. "My son hates me. Whatever kind of love I have for Cordelia I can't do anything about it, cause she doesn't remember..." he laughed dryly before adding: "A funny thing happened before I was dumped on the ocean floor. I was supposed to meet Cordelia. She had something to tell me. And I don't know what. I was hoping she'd tell me she loves me. That's the amazing relationship I had so far."

"But you love her," she tried not to hold a grudge against that feeling. She had no right after all. "That's...You know what? I hope she loves you back," she suddenly said surprising Angel. "Maybe we weren't meant to be, but that doesn't mean you have to spend an eternity alone. Maybe there's a way to get around your curse and we just couldn't find it. I wish we would've, but we didn't. And we moved on so... we shouldn't feel any resentment. None what so ever."

"So how come we do?" Angel asked amused that she was trying to rationalize everything.

"We're just weird like that," she said laying her head on his shoulder, tired. They would've both fallen asleep if Joy and Connor hadn't come crashing towards them. The two teenagers were both exhausted and smudged with green gooey demon blood from head to toe. There had been more than twenty demons and they hadn't had the strength to fight them all. Joy had made the small lightning spell hoping that the demons would turn from them and run towards Buffy and Angel. She hadn't even cared if her fraud would have been discovered. She had just wanted those things to die already!

"Where are the gholas?" was the first thing Joy asked.

"Gholas?" the slayer held back a yawn and then with her eyes only half opened said: "Oh, the gholas!" she tapped Angel on the shoulder.

"Hmm?" the vampire couldn't remember any demons.

"You know, the gholas! The ones that ran right pass us?" Buffy reminded him.

"Oh, the gholas!" Angel remembered now.

"And why didn't you stop them?" Connor couldn't believe them.

"Well...we...ran into some...some vampires," Buffy eventually said.

"Don't see any dust," Connor said angrily.

"You'll definitely find the dust in the sewers," Buffy noted sarcastically.

"Whatever. Let's just go back to the house. We'll try again tomorrow. I think I'm beginning to stink," Joy said frustrated and started walking towards a manhole. Connor gave Buffy and Angel a suspicious look before following her. The vampire and the slayer stood up, only now fully feeling the aftermath of their fight, but the tiredness that came with it was welcomed.

"I feel like a teenager that's been caught doing something wrong," Buffy whispered to Angel as they followed the two kids out into the streets of Sunnydale.

"Technically we did," Angel chuckled. "And maybe we shouldn't be so happy about it. We did a very bad thing."

"Yeah...," she laughed. "Ever thought we'd wind up here someday?"

"Here where?" he asked.

"When our kids would be busting our ass for slacking off from slaying?" she stopped realizing what she had just said. "Wow, wasn't that weird?"

"The words are just twisting in your mouth," Angel assured her.

"I haven't been this tired since...," she didn't say it because it had been when she had first slept with Spike. Right then she didn't feel like remembering it either. She usually didn't because it always brought up strange feelings inside her: desire, disgust, a primal instinct that screamed whenever the recollection would take over. Instincts made her be who she was, the slayer, but there were others beyond those that made her a hero, instincts she feared and she was frightened that one day they would unleash themselves and turn her into a monster. Joy, far away from them, by Connor's side, would have agreed.

After they arrived at the house, all dirty and beaten, everyone figured they found what they had been after.

"Yeah, we did," Connor said shooting Buffy and Angel an irritated look. He wasn't happy that they'd be staying in Sunnydale for another day. Sure, it had its good sides, but he was looking forward to returning home, in his bed, with Cordelia, where he belonged. Joy was only half upset, on one side Buffy and Angel had sorted out their differences the old fashioned way, but on the other side she had gotten her ass kicked by a bunch of demons because she and Connor hadn't had any back up. Jacques would've said it was her own fault. She shook her head before asking Dawn for some clean clothes.

Later that night, she sneaked out of the house. Leaving her room hadn't been a problem, Cordelia was sound asleep and the upper level of the Summers house was drown in silence. The lower level was a whole different story...Connor was supposedly sleeping, but actually he was just pretending so he wouldn't be invited out of courtesy to the kitchen where Angel, Buffy, Xander and Willow, supplied with coffee, were chatting since they had gotten back from the hunt. They were sharing stories, good and bad. While Joy headed for the door, the echoes of Buffy's Dracula story made their way to her ears. She stopped for a moment to smile. It felt right. All of them there in that house. As silent as she tried to be as she opened the door, Connor's keen senses picked up on her presence, but he didn't make a move to stop her. He figured she was going to try and find her brother on her own since his father didn't turn out to be much help. So he kept his eyes closed, opening them only after Joy was gone. After turning and twisting for part of the night on the couch, he would eventually climb upstairs and settle down next to Cordelia. He would sleep soundly for the rest of the night, forgetting all about the noises downstairs and how strangely familiar Joy smelled.

Joy didn't fear the night, even in Sunnydale. She'd fought a lot of demons in her short life and none could take her by surprise.

"A pretty girl like you, alone on such a beautiful night?" Jacques startled her. She tried to hit him with her fist, but her hand ended up on the other side of him. The cajun smiled. "Sometimes I's good to not be real, eh, chere?"

"Speak for yourself," she said as she resumed walking down the street.

"And where you goin'?" he asked as he followed her steps.

"I'm going to find my dad and make him sane...saner," she said determined.

"You kiddin', right? Joycie, you got no right tellin' these people what the future looks like. Might be bad, but it all they got," Jacques warned her.

"I'm here to change the future, Jacques. It doesn't matter how I do it. Doesn't matter if they know. And if they do, it won't be the future anymore," she stopped to look at him. The mystic nervously moved his hands through his hair. That meant he was frustrated. The whole situation seemed to reduce him to this state.

"Still not right," he refused to give in.

"Might not be right, but somehow my father knows. Might be that he's insane, might be that he's possessed or that I'm just too weak to lie to him. I want this to be over as soon as you do and I can't just maneuver them around like sheep. My mother is in love with my father and Angel is in love with Cordelia and you expect me to change that over night without telling anyone anything. I won't tell them all, don't you worry. I only have to tell him. He's the only one who'll understand," Joy's hope was imprinted in her words and Jacques refused to take that hope away from her. All he did was mutter:

"I hope you're right," and he disappeared. She wondered where she could find Spike. He was living in Xander's apartment, but would he go back under the circumstances? Thinking of her father and the way he acted, she was sure he wouldn't return to Xander's place. He'd go somewhere else, familiar, a place that would give him the solitude he needed to gather his stray thoughts. But where would he go? Where? An hour later, she found herself in front of the answer: Spike's old crypt. It had taken her a while to find the graveyard, after all, all she could remember was the gigantic wasteland her mother had pointed out different locations on and she wasn't sure they were a 100% correct. Eventually she tracked it down. It had become a sort of ruin, a monument of time passing by, just like Sunnydale would become one day. She hadn't been absolutely sure he would be there, but knowing him so well, she suspected he was. And her knowledge hadn't failed her. She found him, between the torn furniture and broken things, trembling in a corner under the pressure of his insanity. He was talking to himself, to someone else when she approached him, she couldn't really tell. She knew of the evil that once haunted her father, but she also knew she couldn't defeat it. That was a battle that he and his mother would have to fight and she had no place in it.

When he first saw her, he thought she was a figment of his overactive imagination. Smelling like Buffy, dressed in Dawn's blue shirt - the one that matched her eyes so perfectly - and jeans, stinking of blood and strange desires, calling herself Joy, with white hair and the eyes of a mother he knew. He thought she had been a dream, because surprisingly he knew who she was, or at least sensed it. That's the reason he had flipped back at the house. He had thought she was another of *his* tricks, some kind of image of the future, of what would happen if he would give in to *his* desires...but then something awkward had happened, like he had been torn out of the present and pushed into a monstrous future he didn't want to live in. There had been blood - too much blood - and death and desires turned to ashes and the smoke of burnt flesh. Flesh that should have lived. Flesh too young to die, to burn. And the impact of that vision had sent him tumbling into his old insanity. It frightened him that something besides *him*, the creature in the basement, could cause him to snap like that.

As she neared him, and kneeled besides him, he realized, touching her cheek, that she was real. As real as him. As real as his Buffy. And this girl, he knew she belonged in his world.

"Who are you?" he asked, saner now, much calmer, like someone on death row who accepted his punishment serenely. He was confused by the origin of this girl. Sure she was familiar and felt like she was in some way his, but how?

"My name is Joy. Joyce actually," she was hesitant. That strange serene gaze that held hers so firmly reminded her so much of her father...he was unchanged, time could not alter the appearance of a vampire. He seemed the same person who had helped her climb on her first bike, the same who made her a very flattened cake for her 6th birthday when her mother had been detained in England, the same who had cheered her up after her horrible first day of highschool, the same who threatened to beat the hell out of her date if he didn't have her home by 11 and the same who, after his mother changed, had comforted her, telling her everything would be okay. She felt like crying, collapsing in his arms and telling him everything she had on her soul, but she could not. She would've just frightened him even more.

"Joyce," he repeated not daring to near her.

"Joyce Summers," she completed and she was surprised that he wasn't shocked.

"I suppose I knew. Your blood was screaming out to me," he explained pointing to her persona, to the blood that flowed within her. "Smells just like hers. You smell like her." There was a moment of silence. She knew what he wanted to know.

"I am yours, you know," she said and he laughed.

"Don't be ridiculous, girl. I'm a vampire! And stop me if this is new to you, vampires can't have children," he smirked still amused.

"Why do you think my blood is screaming out to you? It's not just hers, it's yours too!" she let out in frustration and then whispered: "She used to say there's too much of yours."

"It's not funny," he didn't believe her. She sighed exasperated and then an idea came to her. She began taking off her blouse. "What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?" the vampire pulled even further away from her.

"Relax, I'm just going to prove to you that I'm telling the truth," she assured him as she put her blue shirt aside and turned her back towards him. At first he didn't understand what she wanted him to see, but slowly he began noticing, under the thin material of the shirt she wore, a tattoo on her right shoulder blade, stretching from under her neck down her back, far beyond the silky garment she wore. As he concentrated, the tattoo began taking the shape of words. Joy pulled down a strap of her shirt so he could see it all.

"When the sun will shine
I won't be there to see your face
But when the moon will rise
I will be there for your embrace
From dusk till dawn
I will be watching over you
A haunted soul, a hidden face
A shadow that will always follow
Hoping, begging, for one moment without sorrow.
The day you were born,
The universe stopped
My tears fell, my soul cried,
The world changed.
I felt alive,
Yet dead"

Spike read out loud and realization dawned on him. "I wrote that."

"You did. The day you first saw me," Joy smiled as she took her shirt back on. "I got it tattooed when I was 14. I wanted to always have a part of you with me."

"Didn't have to," the vampire looked up at her. "Just take a look in the mirror, there's little bits of me in there," he tapped on her forehead.

"God, I missed you!" Joy couldn't hold back her emotions anymore and fell into her father's arms. "I missed you so much."

"You've been gone for that long?" Spike asked, but Joy's sudden hesitation told him more than words could. "I'm not alive in the future anymore, am I?" his daughter would not answer.

Even if she had come there determined to tell him everything he had to know in order for him to leave Sunnydale, now faced with actually having to tell him, she wasn't sure she was doing the right thing anymore. "Because if I am, you don't have to lie about it. I can take it like a man, even if I might not seem in my right mind about now," he stopped hoping she would speak now. Joy could not. "Well...let's see, what could've happened?" he began thinking. "Your mother shoved a stake through my chest while I was sleeping or we had an argument about someone you dated and hating as much as she does to not be right, she decapitated me in a fit of anger or..." Joy began chuckling. "Well, are you gonna tell me or am I gonna spend the rest of the night guessing what apocalyptic demon did away with me? I gotta tell you there's quite a few of 'em." Joy looked at him and knew he wouldn't freak out.

"It was more of an accident," she finally spoke. "You were trying to help her out, but she was frightened...she didn't know who you were. She didn't know," she whispered the recollection of her father's death still so raw and painful inside her. "She was a slayer. Barely 15."

"Figures a slayer would end my days. It's how do you say? Poetic."

"Ironical ratter," Joy thought. "I...I eventually managed to forgive her. It wasn't really her fault, but mom she..."

"Danced on my grave?" Spike suggested with a smile.

"Killed her," Joy completed her phrase ignoring his joke. "Butchered would be more accurate."

"Buffy? Buffy would never do that," Spike was outraged.

"Not the one you know now. Then she went after the other slayers. One by one. One slaughter after the next," she looked at her hands, it hurt her more to say everything out loud.

"Why would she...Buffy's a hero, she'd never kill anything human, especially children," Spike couldn't believe her. He didn't want to either.

"As I said, she's not exactly the same anymore," Joy insisted.

"What changed her?" Spike asked.

"You did," the girl said and stopped him from drawing the wrong conclusions. "She was growing older every year...She became obsessed by youth, she couldn't bare to see herself age. She didn't want you to see her grow old. You're absolutely identical to my father," she stated making the vampire realize where she was heading.

"I made her a vampire," the words seemed to choke him as he spoke them.

"Eventually. You would've never turned her," Joy said. "But you were forced to do it. After her 32nd birthday she started using magic to look younger. At first Willow supplied her occasionally thinking there was nothing wrong in it, but slowly she realized that using it every day would alter my mother's body so after two years she cut her off. She was desperate and eventually stole the potion from Remy's reserves. She kept using it, knowing that it harmed her. She wanted to be beautiful for you. After a couple of years it started loosing its effect and she used to suddenly grow old. She used to lock herself in her room whenever it happened. Sometimes I didn't see her for days. She turned to black magic. The dangerous type, but she kept searching and searching for another answer. She didn't know the magic was draining the life out of her...She turned to Willow only when it was too late...Willow made one last powerful youth spell and you turned her. I was 15 at the time. She got what she wanted: eternal youth. And she did it for you."

"Did she?" Spike was skeptical of the idea. But the truth was he couldn't picture Buffy growing old. Maybe because slayers were always meant to die young. "I turned her into a monster? How could I? I'd rather love an old woman than turn her," he was disgusted with himself.

"But she would've hated herself," Joy pointed out. "She didn't become a monster. Not then anyway. She was a little more irritated than usual and would sometimes flip out over little things. And the poor vampires that would face her...She tried to not feed on human blood. The only one of human origin she drank was yours. The rest was pig's blood. Willow did a spell that kept her soul somehow attached to her. Angel's curse had that happiness clause and you didn't want her to go through that African shaman's trials, so Willow had to make one herself. What she didn't realize then was that because of that spell the soul was hanging on to one thread inside her. That thread was you. The moment you died the soul vanished. Willow tried to use Angel's curse on her, but she knew she would try that so she put her own soul in an orb and hid it somewhere. Me and Jacques tried to find it. Willow tried too, but it seemed like it disappeared off the face of the earth. My mother's willing to go so far as to destroy the world. When there was no choice left, I took the decision to come here, to set things right."

"You should've gone back to the moment I turned her."

"Like I could've stopped you," Joy shook her head. She remembered the way her mother had looked before she was turned, she had been almost a skeleton.

"What are you here to change?" Spike asked a little confused.

"The whole world. I'm here to bring my mother and Angel back together," Spike was stung by the remark.

"My own daughter..." he stopped mid-sentence suddenly realizing what her words implied. "But if Buffy and I won't be together, what'll happen to you?"

"Don't worry, I'll get suspended from time, cast away between dimensions. Traveling from one world to another without a real home. The ultimate rogue," she lied easily. It's a pretty lie, she thought to herself.

"Oh," Spike let out. He was silent for a moment pondering on the great sacrifice his daughter was willing to make just so the world and her parents would live. He was touched that someone could care so deeply for him. He looked at her and saw the sadness in her eyes - Buffy's eyes - and letting go of the painful subject they were discussing, he asked: "So did we live in Sunnydale? I should at least know what I'll be missing out on."

"No," Joy was relieved that he had given up on the subject. "Sunnydale got destroyed after one of those big end-of-the-world-type battles. The hellmouth opened a little too much that time."

"So it's..."

"Ashes. A lot of people died then. Anya died and... in some ways Dawn did too. Giles lost an eye and an arm. I got this," she touched her white hair. "And this of course," she pointed towards the lighting like symbol across her face."

"Nibblet died?" Spike was saddened by the thought. Dawn was too young to die.

"Technically. Her spirit was crushed. It was too much for her. She lived a few more years... she was so miserable and sad. I think that battle woke something up inside her. That energy she was born from. She turned her eyes black...she became powerful. So powerful she scared even mom and Willow. But she knew that if she held on to the power she'd wind up doing horrible things so she let it consume her. She became light again. Pure uncharted energy. She disappeared," Joy said and Spike thought it was a good way to go.

"And who's...uhm...Jacques and that R something guy?" he remembered the names she had mentioned.

"Well...we lived in New Orleans. When Sunnydale turned to ashes the world was going to the next level, all metal, all high-tech cities. You either went digital or got stuck in the dark ages. New Orleans was one of the few cities that combined both. Mostly because there were a lot of mystics living there. Mom wanted to keep it real for me so we moved there. I was brought up in the old ways. I do occasionally ride the wind on a techboard like all kids my age, but I'm old school. Remy is a mystic from New Orleans, a neighbor of ours. When Willow visited us, right after we moved, I wasn't born yet. Somehow she got in the middle of a ritual Remy was making and they both got possessed and...well they had a baby. Jacques."

"Wow, there's something that doesn't happen every day," Spike was surprised.

"I know. Spirits should start using..." she stopped herself, she didn't really want to discuss that with her father. "Anyway he became a mystic too. He's the one who got me here. We're best friends. He lives with his father. Willow travels around a lot. People don't exactly like her. She got filthy rich off a book she wrote. The subject was taboo, so she got a whole lot of money and whole lot of hate."

"Must've been some book," Spike noted. "What happened to Xander?"

"He...didn't really take Anya's death well. He's something of an alcoholic," she said and Spike didn't comment on it. He felt sorry for the boy, but couldn't really bring himself to feel real compassion for him. "You should go to Xander's," she added after a while, feeling the sunrise nearing.

"Yeah, I don't want to spend my day here. This place's bound to collapse on a sleeping vampire. And sun bathing isn't in my program," he said, but couldn't stand up. "I'll just stay a little more. You should go though. If the slayer finds you gone she'll start suspecting god knows what."

"Yeah, like I'd be hiding things from her or something," she stood up smiling. She headed for the exit, when Spike asked:

"Did she ever love me?"

"Every moment," she said and left the vampire to his thoughts. It was up to him now. If he would help her or let her and the world die so he could live his dreams.

"I felt alive, yet dead," he muttered as she disappeared. He was alone and felt numb and lifeless, more dead than he'd ever been. His life was sealed.

Returning to the Summers home, Joy realized her absence had been noticed as Buffy, half asleep asked her where she had been. Joy had lied - she had been out hoping to find her brother. She had failed to do so. Buffy, too sleepy to be suspicious, believed her and warned her that the streets of Sunnydale weren't friendly, then went back to sleep. And of course there had been another unpleasant surprise, Connor was sleeping in her place. Frustrated she had gone downstairs to find that Xander had taken over the couch. What was she supposed to do? The only thing she could. She knocked on Willow's door and asked her if she could spare a pillow and if she could sleep on the floor there. Though barely awake, Willow agreed before crashing back down in her bed. This is how Joy spent her second night in Sunnydale. The morning would bring only trouble.

The morning had been as the one before, loud with protests from Dawn and sizzles of cooking and voices talking, but this time there was also a lot of coffee. Everyone, except Connor, Dawn and Cordy had had a long night, including Joy. Her red glasses could not hide her puffy eyes. She could've slept some more, but the floor wasn't looking so good. She decided to wait for everyone to leave before going back to sleep so she could curl up in a bed. Apparently they had believed Connor was the one who had left the previous night so they didn't bother to leave an empty bed for her, not even the couch. As Willow was telling Joy this, someone rang at the door. Buffy answered and was surprised to see who the person standing on her doorstep was.

"Hi, Buffy," the man said calmly.

"Wesley!" she let out. "You look...different," she let him pass inside and guided him to the kitchen where everyone was gathered.

"Wesley?" Willow asked surprised by his new look. "Never figured you for the roughed type."

"So what's going on?" the slayer asked the ex-watcher as she resumed making breakfast for Dawn.

"I'm here to warn you about...," he trailed off as he saw Joy standing behind Cordelia at the table. Their eyes locked and Joy immediately realized he knew something. "The girl," he finished. "She's not..." Joy's eyes suddenly glowed and Jacques appeared behind her extending his hand towards Wesley. "Who the hell are you?" he asked Jacques angrily. The mystic just smiled and a light shot from his hands hitting Wesley directly. The ex-watcher fell to the floor. No one in the room except Joy had any idea of what had happened.

When he woke up he wasn't downstairs anymore. He was in Buffy's room, on her bed. The room was empty, or so he thought. He couldn't really stand up, something seemed to block him. Had it been the magic? Or the fall? The truth of the matter was that he could look up and glance sideways, but he couldn't see the entire room. Soon he realized there was someone else moving around in the room and by the soft step, he figured it was a woman. He thought it was either Cordelia or Buffy. Maybe Willow. The figure neared him and he was shocked to see it was Joy holding a wet cloth in her hands. He wanted to stand up and push her away, but as he had discovered before, he could not move, so he sat there helpless while the girl sat down on the edge of the bed and pressed the cloth softly to his forehead.

"The first time I saw you, you came in the night," she told him, avoiding his gaze as she spoke and lovingly stroked his forehead with the cloth. She seemed odd and out of place, not the monster Wesley had expected to find. She didn't even seem wicked.... Was evil hiding under that vulnerable appearance? It could, for evil worked, as always, in twisted ways.

"We met?" he asked putting aside his doubts for the moment. He could do nothing now. Not while he still remained petrified in that bed. He suspected it was the girl's doing.

"You and I? Yes," she finally looked in his eyes and the ex-watcher thought those green eyes to be old and wise and identical to Buffy's. "You and I?" she asked again. "No."

"What does that mean?" Wesley didn't know which answer to believe.

"Both. You and I have met, but you don't know it. You and I have not met, not yet," she spoke and her words only confused him further. Maybe that was her game.

"I met you, yet I didn't," he concluded trying to make her see the confusing way she was expressing herself. She only smiled.

"That's right," it seemed correct to her.

"Are you holding me here?" he asked after a moment of silence.

"For your own good," she said unshaken by his question. "What would you do if you were free? Hit me? Knock me out? Use magic on me? Run off to Angel and tell him my dirty little secret?" she shook her head. "I can't let you do that, I'm sorry."

"So you're going to keep me here until you do what you were sent here to do?" he asked disgusted. "Or kill me?"

"No," she was amused by his disgust. "I'm going to keep you here until we sort things out," she paused, then added: "You had no right to go inside my head. Do you know how dangerous it can get?"

"Black magic always is," he said suddenly curious of what she wanted to tell him.

"It felt like someone twisted my brain in a knot," she recalled the horrible sensation she had had in the highschool hallways.

"Who are you?" he didn't listen to her complaints.

"Someone whose going to tell you an unbelievable story," Joy sighed. There was no other way. She knew how much Wesley could insist on a matter and she didn't want him to stop her from completing her mission.

"Who's Jacques?" he suddenly asked. He knew the name from somewhere, but could not recall where from. It had been one of those bits and pieces he had picked up as a result of the spell he had made in the warehouse.

"The mystic who got me here. From the future," she explained and Wesley wanted to laugh, but found that he could not. Joy did not want to hear it.

"The future?" he only managed to scowl.

"That's right. How else could I have met you, yet not?" she asked and Wesley could not answer. The statement itself was still puzzling. "The first time I saw you, you came in the night," she repeated the first phrase she had spoken. "You were carrying a boy in your arms and you were so miserable, so heartbroken that you could barely speak. My mother..."

"Buffy," Wesley realized and she smiled nodding.

"She took you in. She had heard about it...and she had tears in her eyes when she saw you. She wanted it desperately to be Angel...She thought he would escape. Angel always survived, it's what she used to tell me," sadness washed over her.

"Wasn't he your father?" he remembered the vampire from the visions.

"Spike is my father," she said and Wesley was shocked, yet somehow familiar with the revelation.

"What's *it*?"

"*It* was the day Los Angeles was leveled down. There was only rubble after that day. And the metal giant afterwards," Wesley felt a knot in his stomach. "I suppose I should tell you. One day there will be a great menace, one so large that it will shadow the world and humans will be aware of the demon threat. And this evil will seem unstoppable. No weapon will do, no hero. And its origins will be in Los Angeles. And you will all fight it and fail. But one day Fred, your darling Winifred, will come up with a solution. A plan that would put an end to the threat. She will call it the pawn theory," she smirked. "It was a chain reaction that would start from her and pass through every living person within Los Angeles and the life force combined would open an inter-dimensional portal into a void of such proportions that it would swallow the city whole along with the evil inside it. But the price was ultimate. The life of millions. A sacrifice she made without second judgement."

"It was a wise choice," Wesley thought. A few millions for billions of others was a fair price in his eyes.

"Not as wise as it was selfish," Joy stopped him from admiring the woman he loved. "Fred never intended to die along with the others. She was supposed to be the soul survivor of the massacre. The last one standing so she could have the glory she always dreamt of."

"No. Fred would never do that!" Wesley interrupted her.

"She'll become more bitter with time. And will dream of accomplishment, of praises. And she will get them. After she will die. She'll be everything but sanctified. She made a mistake you see. She told you," she smiled. "She wanted you to live as well, she could have saved another, maybe more, but she loved you. You refused to live while the others died, but not before she told you how you could save yourself. All you needed was an amulet and your own blood. Even if you knew, you didn't tell the others, you thought there was no other choice. The chain reaction would start with her and end with Angel. There was an exact number of pawns that was calculated at the beginning and because you refused her you were a part of it too. A number, a pawn. The white queen - the very first person in the chain survived. And that was Fred. But when it started and you saw the people dying around you, you pulled away. You wanted to at least save the children."

"I saved all the children in Los Angeles?" Wesley asked wondering how he could have done such a thing with a chain reaction already started.

"No. You wanted to save Connor and Cordelia's children, Celeste and Liam," Joy corrected him. Wesley was surprised that Connor and Cordelia would one day become a couple. Connor was too young and foolish for Cordelia. "Their parents had hid them somewhere in the Hyperion Hotel. Fred had told them she had let them out of the chain and that they would be safe. She had lied and you knew it. Everything that wasn't contained in the chain would be pulled into the void. No one would survive except her, that's why you pulled away, you loved those kids and you didn't want them to die. They were so young. But when you pulled away, the chain reaction had a pawn missing, but it did not stop - it was made that way, unstoppable, like evil - and it needed one last pawn. The white queen herself became a pawn and she died there along with so many millions of others. With Angel and Gunn, Cordelia and Connor, Lorne and Los Angeles the way you knew it. But the evil was gone as well and Fred became a hero. She was glorified..."

"The memorial," he remembered one of the flashes he had back in the warehouse.

"Yes. And thousands of people attended her funeral, all the personalities of the known world were there to mourn her for her sacrifice. And you...you survived. Celeste died in your arms and you left her in her dead mother's embrace, so she may be buried next to her. Liam lived as well. No one knew that you and him were the soul survivors and you didn't want the world to know either. You had no place to go and then you remembered where Giles had told you my mother and father lived. In New Orleans. You came to us, in the night. Poor Liam didn't know what to think. He was barely 4. Me and Jacques slept in the same room with him that night and told him old tales of dead people who went on to better places. He understood what we meant, and we seemed wise, but we were only 5 ourselves. The only thing he knew was that his mother, father and sister along with his aunts and uncles, had gone to a better place and had left him behind. I blame myself for letting him believe that. He...was never at peace."

"And I lived with you?" Wesley asked trying to push away the horrible future that stood in front of him.

"For a while, then you took up traveling. You couldn't forgive yourself for leaving everyone behind. You went back to Los Angeles. You searched for their bodies under the rubble, you made sure their graves had names, unlike hundred of thousands of others. Only Angel had become ashes, but you still had a grave made for him. My mother and father had gone with you. They left me and Liam in the care of a mystic - Remy, Jacques' father, a neighbor of ours. Mom cried for days after you returned. My father could only fall silent. I had never seen them so sad, so horrified. You left a few weeks later. You left Liam with us. The road was no place for a child. You needed to figure things out on your on. You met Willow in Brazil where she had gone for some spiritual guidance. You told her everything - she hadn't heard of the catastrophe, though she had felt something evil brewing. After your encounter, Willow started researching the event in every known way, until she found an answer. One that didn't imply the death of so many people. A light guarded deep within an underground world hidden in a vulcano in the Amazonian jungle. It hadn't been easy, but she had found it. She was furious that she did. So many lives wasted for nothing and a butcher glorified. In this state she wrote a thesis called "The Pawn Theory: Salvation or Genocide?" It sold out on the first day. But the few who acknowledged the truth didn't dare speak up, so the public and the press tore Willow apart, they exploited every single minute of her life into some twisted sordid way, but she didn't care. Someone had to tell the truth. At first you were mad at Willow for writing the book, for throwing mud over Fred's memory, but you knew it was true. You told her she should've let the dead rest and she said that was what she had done. Now all those who died in LA could rest."

"I can't believe she would do such a thing," Wesley was talking about Fred.

"Believe it," Joy sighed. "You're still alive, somewhere. We haven't seen you in ages."

"Why did you come here? Are you here to stop that...massacre from happening?" he asked suddenly feeling that he could stand. She now trusted he wouldn't attack her.

"No, not really. I'm here to stop something that hasn't happened in the future yet. Something I want to avoid. My mother and my father can't be together. He will die and she will turn into a monster and set out to destroy the world. A vampire," she told him, but Wesley could not go any further into shock. "And this place... Sunnydale will be swallowed by the hellmouth."

"And you want to stop that?" he asked misinterpreting her sad gaze.

"Oh, no. I want it to disappear, I want it gone, buried. This place should have never existed to begin with. It should've stayed dead, like it was before people came here and the way it's going to be after the city will be gone. I want it to disappear so my mother can move on like she's suppose to. "

"I know what you mean," he said rising off the bed. "What do you want me to do?"

"Don't speak a word of this. I want to reunite Buffy and Angel and I want to do it without the pressure of an apocalyptic future."

"But you can't. Not them. Angel's curse..."

"I think...I think that's something they should search a solution for. I know there are many, but it seems right for them to solve it themselves," she interrupted him.

"I suppose so," Wesley agreed. "So what do I do now?" he asked the teen as she stood up from the edge of the bed, but gave him no answer.

Meanwhile in another part of town, Buffy knocked on Xander's door. She knew it was silly to knock. Xander wasn't inside and Spike...she wasn't sure he was there either. She pulled out the key Xander had left him in case she wanted to check up on Spike, but as he put it 'not freak the daylights out of him in the middle of the night or do that thing he prefers to not name with Spike'. She smiled when she remembered his words as she slipped the key in the lock and opened the door carefully.

"Spike?" she called out as she closed the door. "Spike?" she moved towards the room he slept in, for some reason, as quiet as possible. She found the vampire stretched out on his bed, trying to sleep, but not managing to do so. He was too troubled by all he had heard that night. He turned his head to see who had come in.

"It's you," he said and Buffy crossed her arms over her chest.

"You were expecting someone else?" she asked.

"No. Just... not you," he didn't bother to stand up from the bed, still lost in thoughts. There was a moment of silence. She didn't know if he was okay. He was awkwardly silent which was, she supposed, a good sign. "Do you ever imagine what it would be like to have children?"

"Not really. Between one end of the world and the next, I barely have time for a life and a job. I kinda lost the dream phase somewhere along the way," she confessed as she neared the bed and pulled a chair next to it. "Are you okay?" he didn't answer. He stretched out his arm and touched her stomach. She pulled away, startled by the sudden contact.

"I think you'd look beautiful pregnant," he smiled.

"Is this about Connor?" she suddenly asked.

"Connor who?" He didn't recall the name.

"I thought maybe you sensed it or something," she explained. "He's Angel's son."

"The big poofer has a son!" he let out surprised and chuckled: "Is that why he's grumpier than usual?"

"Actually it's because he kinda found out about us," she said and Spike's lips curled into another smile.

"I figured," he brushed it off. "So whose the mother?'

"Darla."

"Oh, yeah, heard she was back. Is she..." he remembered Dru had mentioned it to him.

"Dead. Again. Hopefully for good this time," Buffy was a little exasperated. In her little world some people just did not seem to die for good. There was another long silence.

"Did this girl...Joy strike you as odd?" he asked not managing to stop his curiosity.

"You barely saw her, threw her around a bit, I don't think you should judge her just yet," Buffy reminded him.

"I met her last night. She was walking around town, looking for something. I bumped into her. We...sorted out our differences. She reminded me of someone," he made up one lie after the other. "Well?" he still wanted an answer to his question.

"Come to think of it...yeah, she's kinda weird, but in a good way. She's definitely hiding a lot of things, but I don't blame her, at her age I did too. I just hope she won't turn out to be some superevil incarnated. I really don't feel like battling something that huge right now," she said tired. She looked up at the vampire and after a pause added: "You scared me back there. I don't like seeing you like that."

"I know what you mean," he let himself fall back down on the bed. "You look tired," he noticed. "If you want to sleep I can let you have the bed, I've been trying to doze off for hours, but I couldn't do it."

Buffy looked at him hesitating. She was really tired, but was still scared things would lead to something else. As if sensing her doubts the vampire rose from the bed, offering her his place.

"You can lock yourself in if you want," he said throwing her a key. "Xander sometimes closes it at night."

"No," Buffy decided against it. "I trust you," she had to start somewhere. He didn't say anything. He just stepped out of the room and Buffy laid down on his bed and was surrounded by his scent. It was tormenting, but in some ways soothing. She closed her eyes and fell asleep. As Spike walked through the shaded apartment, he suddenly began hearing a song coming from somewhere. It was hypnotizing and it urged him to enter his room again and take the slayer's life while she was still vulnerable. He covered his ears, but it still went on. He entered the bathroom splashing his face with cold water and suddenly the water tasted like blood. Her blood. Slayer blood. He closed the door of the bathroom and paced around the enclosed space, but the song did not stop. He hit his head on the wall, over and over again, but it would not stop the song. Then step by step the tune overpowered him and slowly he made his way to his room and kneeled down next to the bed, where the slayer was sleeping. He stroked her face so lovingly, his fingers entangled in her hair, exposing her neck. Buffy sighed under his touch, but did not wake. Suddenly he pulled away realizing in horror what he was about to do, but the song and voice kept urging him 'Go on, do it! You know she wants you to! You heard it!' He wanted to scream and he forced himself to leave the room and in a desperate attempt to escape this haunting he stepped outside on the balcony in broad daylight. He stretched out his hands and sighed relieved. The song was gone, but his flesh was beginning to burn. His right hand caught fire. Someone pulled him back inside.

"What are you doing?" Buffy asked him and he wasn't sure it was her. Maybe it was the apparition.

"I...I wanted to see the sun," he lied as he felt the burns on his face slowly healing.

"You're hurt," she noticed worried. "Wait here. I'll go get a bandage for your hand," he heard her entering the bathroom, but then a strange dizziness overcame him and he sat down on the couch. He didn't seem to feel the time pass by. He sat there for more than an hour, waiting for her, but she still did not come. He stood up and headed for the bathroom. It was empty. He entered his room again. She was still sleeping in his bed. She had not moved an inch since he had left her there. He took a few steps backwards. A lamp fell off a table and he turned his head towards it. There was another Buffy there, staring back at him. She smiled evilly and then disappeared. Spike closed the door to his bedroom and sat back down on the couch nervous that he might do something he didn't want to. Eventually he fell asleep. Even evil was tired on this day.

When Buffy returned home in the afternoon, she was surprised by what she found. Angel cooking Dawn something of an early dinner. Feeling frustrated after Connor and Cordelia had departed for Cordelia's old house in Willow's company, while Wesley, as much as he could guess was still ill and Joy still watched over him or slept, Angel had felt the need to direct all his attention in another place. And Dawn had been more than eager to be the center of his attention. Buffy found the whole situation amusing. Angel and food hadn't really gone together in her mind, but seeing him there in her kitchen, with a towel over his shoulder amidst all kinds of ingredients while Dawn drank some kind of strange looking cocktail and observed him happily, a smile couldn't help but appear on her lips.

"I'm gone for a couple of hours and I come home to find the kitchen turned upside down? You better believe you're cleaning it up too, mister," she said making her presence known, even if Angel had sensed her the moment she had been in front of the house. He returned her smile and invited her to take a sit.

"Hungry?" he asked as she sat herself down.

"Starving. I kinda skipped lunch," she had lost track of the time. She hadn't known she had been that tired. "What is that?" she pointed towards Dawn's glass.

"Angel's latest invention," Dawn giggled. "I call it superchocofantasticdelight."

"Okay. I believe you didn't name it," she addressed Angel and the vampire nodded.

"Let's just say it has a lot of chocolate. The strawberries kinda lost themselves in there somewhere," he said as he turned towards one of the pots.

"You got hidden talents. You cook, you blend..." Buffy pointed towards the dirty blender that served to make Dawn's superchocofantasticdelight.

"Don't overestimate my blending. Sometimes you get bored during the day. Cordelia got me a blender once. Didn't really think much of it, but then she started making these weird combinations with blood. Tasted pretty good," he explained and then added: "What I made Dawn I got from watching her."

"This doesn't have blood, does it?" Dawn had stopped her drinking, a little disturbed. Angel laughed and Dawn let out a sigh of relief. "For a moment there, I thought..." she shuddered and then resumed drinking from her glass. Buffy wondered why she hadn't thought of it too. Probably because Angel had never let her see him drinking, except that one time when she had been the drink. For a moment she hated Angel for putting up such barriers between them, but then thought the accusation to be ridiculous. She had found the whole drinking issue disgusting. Now she thought maybe her righteousness had been just a tad overdone.

"Where were you all day?" Dawn suddenly asked as Angel placed some kind of spaghetti and sauce in front of her. Buffy was about to lie and say she had been at school, but Dawn stopped her: "You weren't in your office. I went there and principal Wood came around asking about you."

"I..." it was pointless to lie, she thought. She had just cleared things out with Angel and didn't want to mess them up again. But what about Dawn? "I tried finding those gholas."

"Any luck?" Dawn asked as she struggled to roll the spaghetti around her fork. She had totally believed her sister, but Angel gave her a doubtful look.

"No, they probably went into hiding," she lied, but Dawn didn't even take that into consideration.

"I'm gonna go watch TV," Dawn said and headed for the other room. Even if usually she objected to this, Buffy let her go this time because she needed to tell Angel the truth. After the teenager with the plate of food in one hand and her superchocofantasticdelight in the other left the kitchen, there was a moment of silence while Angel placed some food in front of her and then leaned on the wall.

"You went to see Spike, " he said after a while.

"I was worried," she said not looking him in the eye. "I kinda fell asleep at some point. I didn't do anything else. I swear," she added quickly.

"I know you didn't," he smiled. "And even if you did, it's not really my business."

"I keep on forgetting that," Buffy chuckled. She tasted the spaghetti. "Mmm, this is so good!" Angel smiled again.

Meanwhile in her old house, Cordelia searched blindly for her past. Willow had convinced the current owners of the house to let them look around. If she had used magic or not, Cordelia didn't know. As she walked inside the huge house, she felt nothing. Only a gigantic blank. Connor stood by her side, observing this stray part of her past, surprised that once Cordelia had lived among such richness. Willow had left them alone, going on her way once she had gotten them inside. As Cordelia paced around, she felt despair creep over her. How could she not remember the house she had grown up in? At least the Summers home woke up some kind of shadow of remembrance, but this place...there was nothing. Not a room, not a view, not one emotion. She blamed this blank on the change of the house. Of course, it must have been changed when the new family had moved in. But yet...couldn't she remember at least one tiny detail? She was beginning to feel hopeless, like whatever she did was useless. This was her house! Her childhood was hidden somewhere inside it and she couldn't find it. If this place didn't make her recall anything, what would?

"It's very nice," Connor spoke feeling the need to break her out of her obvious misery.

"Yeah, it is. I guess," she said. "Let's go, I don't think this is working."

"You sure you don't want..." Connor insisted.

"No," Cordy shook her head. "It's pointless."

"I'll go call Willow," Connor offered.

"No, let's walk around town a bit. Maybe something'll jam my memory," Cordy suggested instead. Connor smiled. He liked that idea. They walked outside, leaving the house with all its big rooms, high windows and rigid atmosphere behind.

Back at the Summers house, upstairs in Buffy's room, Wesley slept undisturbed. Joy hadn't found an answer to his question so while she pondered it, she had used a spell to make him sleep. But while trying to find an answer to his question, she herself had fallen asleep in her chair with her hands still wrapped around the wet cloth and her head fallen on her shoulder. She had forgotten about her own tiredness. And in her sweet sleep the future molded itself around her. The old houses of New Orleans appeared before her, the old neighborhood as well as the metal monster beyond it. Even if they blended together in an awkward harmony, they still remained what they were: one part testimony to the past, one part testimony to the future. But in this city she called home she felt turmoil that ate away at its roots. And she knew what that turmoil was: a monster that was destroying everything in its path. A monster she once called mother. She still remembered her mother's first massacre, when she had killed a slayer and all those teenagers at some random highschool dance. Joy had wept for days. She had no one left. She had been alone. Her father had died. Willow had taken Jacques to Europe, while Remy was in some Asian desert at a reunion of mystics from across the globe. And poor Joy had been all alone...

But now, in her dream state, Joy pushed away the recollection. She could hear a fight somewhere. The sound of great power clashing with even greater power. And indeed, she had been right. Among the ruins of a warehouse, in a now deserted part of New Orleans, a struggle was in full proceeding. On one side stood Willow in all her might, with her eyes flaring black in the night, floating above the ground, concealed in a protective invisible cloak, while on the other side was her mother, in her full vicious vampire face, her hands dirty with blood, holding a shinning orb - it protected against magic, Joy knew - in one of them. And when they attacked, each fist, each blow was accompanied by light, by thunder. The battle seemed to have taken place before, in the past, but with powers less great and different sides. As Joy watched them - a silent observer - she saw the hesitant way her aunt Willow fought, how she feared to hurt her mother! But then something seemed to snap inside her and there were no more boundaries on both sides. There was only hate and pain. Hate for what Buffy had become, hate for not being able to stop it, hate for being a part of what made her that way. Willow was furious with the world, herself and Buffy. The fight became intense, bruising, but eventually Buffy had the upper hand, crushing Willow's right hand under her heels. The witch gasped from the pain, but with a last effort, Joy saw her eyes shinning blacker than before and there came a sphere of dark energy that hit the slayer sending her flying into the next building, taking the wall down. Joy looked over at the collapsed figure of the vampire, her features had turned to human and pain was written on them. A metal rod had skewered her chest.

"Joy?" the bleeding vampire whimpered thinking she had seen a glimpse of her mortal daughter.

"Mom?" tears filled Joy's eyes. The witch stood up holding her crushed hand and looked down at the vampire she had once called her best friend.

"There's no one here, Buffy. No one," Willow told her and Joy's eyes went wide. She heard the crack of bone and suddenly woke up panting desperate for air. It couldn't be true!

"Jacques! Jacques!" she cried out for the cajun to appear. "Jacques!" she collapsed back down in her chair, crying. "Jacques!" but her friend would not appear. Wesley suddenly woke up as if startled by the same visions. "Jacques..." she let out again and Wesley took her in his arms.

"Shh, it'll be all right. Everything's going to be fine," he rocked her in his arms. For some reason he felt the need to comfort her. She felt like family. Like ones blood inside another person must feel, he thought. He couldn't guess why she was crying, but he knew she would not shed her tears for memories or little things. Something had happened. In what time and in what way, he could not guess.

It was night again and at the Summers home, Buffy, Angel, Connor and Joy were preparing to go hunting again and the slayer and the vampire had promised that this time they wouldn't get sidetracked. The two's statement was received with skepticism by Connor. Willow, Xander and a very eager Dawn offered to show Cordelia around the Bronze in hope of finding some stray memories. Though a little disappointed of not being able to join them, Connor agreed that it was a good idea. When they were about to leave, there was an unexpected guest.

"Spike? What are you doing here?" Buffy was afraid he'd freak out again.

"Figured you'd be heading out for some demon chopping and thought you could use a hand," Spike gave the slayer a look that let her understand he wouldn't lose it this time.

"If you promise to behave," Buffy thought help was always welcomed.

"Cross my heart," he made a mock sign across his chest.

"And hope to die?" Angel asked smirking.

"No use in hoping for that," Spike returned the mischievous smile. "So what are we after?"

"Gholas," Joy said and Spike nodded.

"Right, right. Any idea where the buggers are?" he asked.

"They were in the sewers last night. They have to be there...somewhere," Buffy filled him in.

"Split and search then?" Spike suggested.

"Best idea," Buffy agreed. "Now, who goes with who?"

"You, me and the girl check one side, Angel and his toddler can check the other," Spike offered.

"Toddler?" Connor looked at the vampire incredulously.

"Buffy's coming with me," Angel corrected Spike. "And..."

"Oh, no you're not dumping the toddler on me because you want your quality time with the slayer," Spike objected.

"Toddler?!" Connor interjected louder this time.

"Connor's coming with us. End of story," Buffy told Angel, settling it once and for all. She didn't feel like listening to two vampires disputing over her all night. Joy smiled. This meant she was going to have her father for the rest of the night all to herself. She couldn't shake off the bad feeling that nightmare had given her and Jacques' sudden disappearance didn't help either. It could mean only two things: either everything had gone bad in the future and her mother had reached Jacques and was probably on her way to eliminate her as well or her dream had been true and Jacques didn't want to tell her himself. Wesley had comforted her. Or at least he tried. It was all just a dream, he had told her before he mysteriously disappeared on some secret mission only he knew about. Somehow, Joy had a hard time believing his words. The battle had been fought. Willow vs Buffy, but who had won? She couldn't tell. She had a knot in her stomach and she thought in horror that it was going to stay there until Jacques had either the courage to show himself or her vampire of a mother would slam open the doors of the Summers house looking to spill some blood. She sighed. Being by her father's side for the night would do her good.

"Just stop calling me that," Connor told Spike a little menacing.

"Uh, the little bugger's got your temper," Spike noted smirking.

"Stop teasing the frustrated teen, Spike," Buffy warned him as they left the house. Connor only let out a sigh, exasperated. For a brief moment he considered punching a hole through Spike wondering if he'd still be smiling after. Angel caught his wild gaze and gave him a warning look. Spike might look like he's all talk, but he was an above average fighter.

"Tell your sonny boy not to put any ideas in his mind. My head might hurt like hell when I hit humans, but I won't stand a nosy brat pushing me around. Especially not yours," Spike told Angel after noticing the exchange of glares between the two.

"Don't worry, he doesn't even know you're harmless," Buffy had mentioned Spike's condition to Angel the previous night when they were up talking with Xander and Willow.

"Good. I might not be so harmless to him considering his parents," Spike pointed out.

"Just stay away from him," Angel said and there was an obvious undertone of menace in his voice.

"What? Don't you trust me, mate?" he asked and Angel stared at him. "My bad."

Buffy noticed Angel's obvious love for his son despite all he had put him through. It was strange to see him in that position, as a father...She just couldn't picture him holding a baby in his arms. All the times she had tried, she could only see Angelus ready for a meal. She shook off the image, the research on Angelus had left her with a few nightmares over the years.

"Hey, you think you and I can have a friendly fight? How about it?" Spike suggested and Buffy rolled her eyes.

"Didn't you have enough of that when we were on different sides?" Angel asked shaking his head.

"Actually, I think you left more scars on me when you were your gruesome charming self," the vampire noted as they reached the sewers. Connor pretended he wasn't interested in their conversation, but actually listened to them quite attentively. Joy was amused to see the interaction between the two vampires. She hadn't witnessed a meeting between the two in her lifetime and if she, in some way, had she couldn't remember because she would have been too young. Angel had died when she had been 5 years old and all she had known of him had been her father's, mother's and Wesley's stories and some of the very few scattered memories of Liam of a tall man with chocolate brown eyes, black hair and a sweet smile. It was hard imagining Angel, as young as he was now, a grandfather. The thought itself was laughable. But then again she had never known any of her grandparents. Spike's parents were long dead, Joyce Summers had died, ironically, of a brain tumor on the hellmouth and Hank Summers had believed his daughters dead in the falling of Sunnydale and Buffy and Dawn had let him believe that. But she had had something of a grandmother in Remy's mother. She smiled, Jacques had once told her, when he had found out that she had no grandparents, that she could have his. Jacques had been spoiled all his life by his grandparents from both sides. Even if Willow's parents had refused to even speak their daughter's name after her manifesto against Fred, whom they considered a hero, they embraced their nephew happily, especially since he happened to not live with his mother.

"I guess this is where we do the splitting," Buffy said when they reached the sewers. "They were down there somewhere last night," she told Spike. Connor and Joy rolled their eyes pretty much at the same time.

"The nest was just behind the corner up ahead," Joy gave the exact location. "Me and..." she had almost let the word 'dad' slip. "Me and Spike will go that way. You can go the other. I'm sure you can remember it," a thin smile crossed her lips.

"Like I said, never gonna hear the end of it," Buffy whispered to Angel as she passed him by. Angel chuckled. Connor shook his head. He felt like he was babysitting overgrown teenagers. He was supposed to be the young one for god's sake.

"Think I can really bring those two back together?" Joy asked her father when they were out of sight.

"Considering the history, I'd say there's a fair chance," Spike noted as they advanced in the sewers. "Besides, I doubt they were fighting demons last night. By the shape they're in I'd say they were probably fighting each other. One of the slayer's worst habits. You know she loves you only when she hits you."

"I'm lucky she didn't use that technique on me," Joy smiled.

"Sure, she mostly took out her frustrations on me, but I like to think of it as love," Spike returned the smile. It felt good to joke about it with someone who knew the whole truth.

"I missed you, dad," Joy said and Spike put his arm around her shoulders - something he had wanted to do ever since he had found out she was his daughter - and she let her head rest on his right shoulder.

"You have no idea how right this feels," he didn't find the words to describe his feelings. He chuckled. "I never pictured having children, but now that you're here...it's so right."

"I know," she smiled looking up at him.

"You look like something's bothering you," the vampire noticed.

"Bad dream," she tried to shook it off, but couldn't.

"What'd you dream?" he asked as they advanced even further into the darkness.

"That Willow killed mom."

"That almost happened once," he remembered the stories of Willow's dark days.

"Almost. In my dreams it actually happened. And that's how it was meant to be," she sighed pulling away from him. He stopped in his tracks. It was obvious she had something on her mind. There was a moment of silence before she spoke: "What if I'm making a mistake? A big selfish mistake?"

"Selfish?" he laughed. "Do you hear yourself talking? You're preventing yourself from being born! You're taking away all you've known in your life. If that's selfish..."

"But it is. I'm selfish because I'm sparing myself from having to make a choice. I'm sparing *my* family from death. What entitles me to do that? Who knows how many people I'm killing this way! How many people will Angel not save because he's here? How many people are dying as we speak because I sent my mother on a wild goose chase for gholas? Don't you think that's selfish?" her tone was harsh, but it wasn't addressed to him, but to herself.

"No, it's not. How many people are you saving? How many people are you sparing along with us?" he tried to reason with her.

"A whole world that doesn't exist yet and maybe won't either, because I decided I was the right person to change it all," she closed her eyes and touched her forehead. "You have no idea how right that was. Her, dying. It was like the world had been waiting for it all along. Maybe that's what I was supposed to do. Stay in my place. Fight the fight. Save the world. Like she always did. I'm a coward. An incredibly huge coward."

"Don't say that. You can't know what the world is suppose to be like. Your mother should've stayed dead, but she came back twice. Death just isn't her. And maybe in some strange way that's what you're doing right now. Proving what I'm saying. You're keeping her safe, out of death's way. And hey, if that's not how the world's suppose to be, not your fault. The world would send you a message if it was that wrong. And quite frankly, I wouldn't want to live in a world that considered this wrong."

"Oh, dad, if you could only understand..." she looked out into the darkness, lost. "I would've done anything, *anything* to change the world for us, so we could be a family, but I knew it couldn't have been done. Changing the past has a price. And I'm one of the fools willing to pay it," she paused. "I don't mind what's going to happen to me. But I have no right to mess with you."

"You're my blood, you have all the right in the world," he assured her putting a comforting hand on her shoulder. "And if you don't, I just gave it to you." She smiled.

"Thank you," she turned to look in his eyes.

"Now all I need is the power to walk away from this," he said and gestured around himself.

"Well, you won't need much power to get away from this stinky place," she deliberately misunderstood him. She smiled, she had enough mind turning chattering for one night. Spike understood her silent plea to put serious things aside and just enjoy the evening. He liked the idea. He didn't feel like thinking of leaving Sunnydale and most of all Buffy behind. "Now, how about we find ourselves a couple of demons so we can say we actually did something here tonight?"

"You're reading my mind," the vampire smiled as they concentrated on the sewers ahead. As they kept walking, Spike chuckled: "You know they all think you're strange, but they just don't say anything."

"Really? I thought I acted pretty convincing."

"Sure, you didn't scream daughter from the future, but you were still weird," Spike assured her.

"Well since I only blew my cover in front of three people I..." she started.

"Three?" Spike scowled.

"What?" Joy looked at him questioningly.

"Nothing," he tried to brush it off.

"Oh no, *that* isn't a nothing," she insisted.

"Which *that*?"

"That noise you do," she imitated him. "That noise. The noise you do when you don't agree with something or when you think I did something stupid."

"Untrue I..." she stared at him. "Okay, okay, for god knows what reason I can't lie to you," he sighed. "Three people?! Have you entirely lost your mind?" he let out his disapproval.

"That's better, " Joy smiled. "You're actually the only one I didn't *have * to tell, but I did anyway. Wesley used black magic to trace my steps and got this twisted idea I was here to kill Angel and mom. So I had to tell him. And then Lorne, well that wasn't absolutely necessary, but I was a bit out of ideas at that point," there was a moment of silence. "So what do you think I should do to be less...strange?"

"Easing up on the staring would help," the vampire suggested. "Who's Lorne?"

"Well there's this dimension..." Joy began the story of the singing demon, the way she had heard it years ago from her uncle Wesley. In a totally different part of the sewers, Angel, Buffy and Connor walked on in a strange silence that seemed to demand it stay undisturbed. It was only occasionally interrupted by whispers between Buffy and Angel and low laughter at private jokes Connor could not understand. He didn't enjoy the situation one bit. He had been better off with Joy, at least when she was hunting she wasn't thinking of other things. He briefly wondered if she didn't need help. All alone with a vicious vampire and possibly a nest of demons...he looked at the slayer and his father and sighed, he wished he had Cordy's visions and pretend that Joy was in danger, but no, he was stuck there. Better make the best of it, he thought to himself. The sewers split in two in front of them.

"I guess we gotta split up," Buffy said. "I'll take the right side. You and Connor can take the left."

"I don't need a babysitter," Connor snapped.

"You can't go alone. You and Joy barely made it out alive last night," she reminded him. "We can't have you walking around alone."

"I can take care of myself," Connor didn't want to hear it.

"Don't be stupid," Buffy was loosing her patience. "I don't want to worry about you all night."

"Then don't," Connor put it simply.

"Connor..." Angel interfered.

"And I think you two wouldn't mind being alone," he interrupted him. Buffy stared at him, her face rock hard. "C'mon, I might've lived most of my life in a hell dimension, but I'm not blind. You two...all the jokes and innocent little touches..." he made a grimace. "It's beyond obvious and I don't think I'm the only one who's seeing it so why don't you do yourselves a favor, get a room and get it over with!" the vampire and the slayer were stunned. Connor turned away to hide his satisfaction. There was a moment of total silence in which Angel and Buffy both avoided each others gazes embarrassed. They both admitted to themselves that they were still attracted to each other, but they tried to avoid giving that impression to the people around them. Connor's words had proved how big failures they were.

"Last night should've been a lesson for you, Connor. There's no way you can stand up to a whole herd of these things," Angel eventually spoke.

"Watch me," he marched down the left tunnel.

"Were you like that when you were a teenager?" Buffy suddenly asked.

"In some ways. Stubborn, always looking to defy my father," Angel sighed. "Think we should leave him alone?"

"Well I don't think he'll get himself killed," she said. "And if demons won't kick his ass tonight, I probably would. No offense, but he's just asking for it."

"I wouldn't suggest getting into an argument with him. He can be...persuasive," Angel remembered a couple of not so easy fights with his son. He had to admit he had more than just his touch in battle. "And he throws a mean punch."

"Wouldn't we just make the perfect family?" Buffy chuckled.

"He is right you know," Angel said easing the sudden tension that had built up between them.

"Yeah, too bad we can't take that room and get it over with," she smiled playfully.

"If it would only be that easy," he said as they started down the second sewer tunnel.

"But you gotta admit, it would make things easier," Buffy pointed out.

"A whole lot," Angel smiled. They walked in silence for a while, neither one daring to speak. Then suddenly they heard a noise coming from close by. Buffy wanted to say something, but Angel put a finger to his lips gesturing for her to be quiet. He blended into the shadows and pulled Buffy with him. He listened. There were voices heard up head and a distant light blinked from time to time. Then there were footsteps, didn't sound like demons, but they weren't human either. As she sat there, pressed to his chest, thinking how funny it still was to not hear his heart beat and holding a strange memory of actually having heard it, Buffy wondered why nothing felt as right as this. Spike's embrace had never felt like this, his felt sinful, hot and dirty, sometimes brutally passionate in the best way possible, but it could never be like Angel's -sweet, tender, loving, right. Or could it? Sex with Spike was never tender, nor loving, nor sweet, but his embrace? She had admit at times - many times -it had been tender and loving, but not in the manner in which Angel's was. She looked up at him, his chocolate eyes piercing the sewers. She thought he wouldn't notice because of the darkness, but he did.

"What is it?" he asked.

"If I kiss you now, can we forget it ever happened?" she asked and she felt his eyes gazing into hers in the darkness. And then her body stiffened, he was lowering himself to her. No! She didn't want a kiss! A kiss was too much! Too many memories too many desires she had buried! She wanted to push him away, but found she couldn't. She was helpless in his arms. His lips brushed hers and their mouths roamed hungry over each other. As always for them, a kiss was never just a kiss, it was passion and it was all they had.

"Well well, what do we have here? A couple of lovebirds," a mocking voice said and they broke away from each other. They had forgotten all about the noises, the footsteps. Angel had been right, they weren't demons or humans, they were vampires.

"Finally some action," Buffy let out satisfied. The vampire that had spoken swallowed hard realizing they weren't average human snacks. "What are you, afraid?" the slayer stepped towards them amused. "Boo!" she mocked them as Angel stepped behind her.

"Let's show her what we're made of," the lead vampire was enraged and ordered the other vampires to attack. As she and Angel fought them, Buffy thought to herself again how right it felt, when they fought each other, when they were slaying together, side by side, like now, when they embraced or kissed and suddenly she realized a heartbeat was nothing, just a useless ticker that reminded humans of time passing by.

In another part of the sewers, Connor walked alone, feeling a bit uneasy. Even if he would never admit it, maybe he didn't stand a chance against 10 armed demons, let alone more than that. He suddenly wished he would be by Joy's side again. He stopped for a moment pondering if he should return to the place the sewers had split in two and maybe search for either Angel and Buffy or Joy and Spike. Just when he was about to dismiss the idea, he heard a scream from somewhere behind him. It was ratter an echo from far away. He turned, running in the opposite direction he had been going till then. Soon he discovered there had been a passage he had carelessly passed by before. He slipped through it and ran in the direction of the noise. It was Joy and Spike who had run into trouble. They had stumbled upon a herd of demons.

"Connor!" Joy was relieved to see some back up. "I guess screaming does help."

"These aren't the demons we fought last night," Connor noticed as he joined the battle.

"Tell me something I don't know," Joy let out as she kicked a demon in the face.

"Where's Buffy?" Spike asked while struggling with a demon.

"We split up," Connor told them.

"Brilliant!" Spike scowled punching the demon he was fighting in the stomach. "Of all the bloody..." he was suddenly thrown down.

"Dad!" Joy cried out, but as soon as she did she bit her tongue and looked worried over at Connor. She let out a sigh of relief, the boy was too busy fighting to have listened.

"Can't you use one of your light tricks on them?" Connor suggested before falling down struck by a demon.

"I tried, it doesn't work!" Joy told him once he got back on his feet. "I think they're either blind of immune to magic."

"Great," Connor mumbled before jumping back in the fight.

Meanwhile at the Bronze, a confused Cordelia looked around herself trying to recognize something. It did have a strange familiarity, but she couldn't - like all things - place it.

"So does it strike a spark?" Xander asked curious.

"Spark? Maybe. Can I remember anything? Nope," Cordy sighed. This wasn't helping. She appreciated everyone's good intentions, but she also felt pressured by them. Like she would horribly disappoint them or insult them if she didn't remember the past they had been a part of.

"I don't blame you," Willow said. "I'd wipe away half the things I did in Sunnydale from my mind if I could. Unfortunately I couldn't erase everyone's memories of them." Xander tensed for a moment. He knew if she wanted she could. He was suddenly scared that she might one day act upon her words. Willow gave him a glare as if she had read his mind, but said nothing.

"I can't really imagine you doing anything that needs erasing," Cordy thought. Willow seemed like one of those strong good persons that couldn't be shaken by anything, like she'd seen everything and nothing could surprise her anymore. She was far from the truth.

"You'd be surprised," Willow allowed herself a thin smile.

"Well, someone's enjoying herself. Look yonder," Xander pointed towards Dawn dancing with some girls and boys her age. "I think we might've been tricked."

"That's a brilliant deduction, Sherlock," Willow smiled.

"Why thank you, Watson," Xander returned the smile before gazing back at the teen. "I'm just happy she went back to non-skanky wardrobe."

"Huh?" Cordy asked.

"Oh, remember I told you about the love spell I made Amy do for me so you would love me?" Xander turned towards her.

"The one that backfired?" Cordy remembered the tale. She had found it quite amusing, but sensed she hadn't thought it to be funny in the past.

"That's the one. Well there was this teenager that had a jacket that pretty much did the same and Dawn..." he stopped when the slayer's sister approached the table.

"So, how are you guys doing?" Dawn asked and suddenly felt Cordy's curious gaze. "Hopefully not sharing embarrassing stories."

"Oh, no I was just telling Cordy about...about...what was I telling you about?" Xander turned to Cordy for help.

"That demon you guys killed," Cordy tried to be of assistance, but couldn't really remember all the strange demon names she had been told.

"The little fear demon," Willow interfered.

"Oh," Dawn said and then made her way back to the dancing floor.

"So Dawn was caught in the spell too..." Xander restarted his story. Cordelia smiled. Somehow, she felt at peace.

Back in the sewers, after killing half the demons and escaping the rest, Spike, Joy and Connor were heading out when they ran into Buffy and Angel.

"Where were you?" Connor asked furious. With just a little help they could have taken out all the demons, but they were forced to retreat.

"We ran into vampires," Buffy said and Connor rolled her eyes.

"Right," he let out and went on past them. Joy chuckled.

"They really did this time," she whispered to Spike and the vampire grinned.

"I know. I can smell it," Spike told her. "Cold dead bodies and ash."

"Couldn't have put it better myself," Joy smiled and they went on ahead.

"Well this sucks," Buffy let out when she found herself alone with Angel once more. "They don't believe us."

"Can you blame them?" Angel looked back after the others, but they were too far away for him to see them anymore.

"Think we should find the rest of those demons?" the slayer suggested.

"They might be less mad about it," he thought it was a good idea. They walked a while in silence until they reached the remains of a struggle.

"Is this it?" Buffy asked making a grimace at all the slaughtered demons lying around.

"No, they're not fresh," Angel explained.

"Oh, that's what that wonderful smell is," she sighed watching Angel pacing around, observing the scene, seeming to be searching for something.

"Look, what happened...before the uhm, vampires...," she had problems expressing herself.

"Never happened," he looked up at her shortly before resuming his pacing. He thought that was what she had wanted to hear. He didn't notice her disappointment. "They said they were gholas, right?"

"Yeah, gholas," Buffy mumbled distracted. "I suddenly don't feel like hunting anymore. Think we can postpone this? Maybe we can hunt them tomorrow or... I'll slay them on my lunch break."

"That's a good idea," Angel said not paying much attention to her words, his thoughts were elsewhere. He crouched down and touched some goo, rubbing it on his fingers and then smelling it. Now it was obvious. Those bodies didn't belong to gholas. Sure the blood looked the same, but the texture was different, it was thinner and it smelled sweeter than ghola blood. And someone had gone through a whole lot of trouble to hide that fact. Given the choice between Connor and Joy, it was obvious who it was. Joy. A part of himself wanted to believe she was just a sloppy fighter, but another had claimed from the beginning that something was wrong with her. He stood up. He wasn't going to make any accusations until he would talk to her. He looked up and noticed Buffy seemed disturbed.

"Is something wrong?" he asked nearing her.

"Nothing, I'm just a little tired," she lied as she made her way back through the sewers. Angel looked after her worried, but decided she could wait, he had other things to take care of now.

In another part of Sunnydale, Wesley walked alone, searching for a certain place. It was a crossroad between this realm and another. The kind of portals he was searching for were very rare and usually located in particularly bad places, like the hellmouth for instance. He wasn't sure why he was doing it, but he had to find out what happened, or ratter, he corrected himself, will happen.

"You know, this kind of magic is dangerous," a voice said startling him. He turned to find Willow behind him with her hands in her pockets, looking very amused by his reaction.

"Aren't you suppose to be at the Bronze?" Wesley asked confused.

"I was. Dawn and Cordy are home and Xander's watching over them," Willow smiled. "And I thought I could watch over you."

"I don't need watching over," Wesley shrugged.

"Considering what you're trying to get yourself into, you'd be surprised how much you need it," she said and her voice held a warning. "What exactly are you after, Wesley?"

"Nothing that concerns you," the ex-watcher started walking down the street again.

"I can read your mind if I want to!" Willow yelled after him. Wesley stopped. "Someone who's willing to jump in another dimension has to want something badly. What is it? A talisman? A book? A jewel?" with every word, she neared him. Wesley suddenly smiled.

"You can't read my mind. I blocked it," and with that he was off again. The redhead clenched her jaw and followed him. She knew he wouldn't be able to open the gateway on his own. He would try, but he wouldn't succeed. And she was just curious enough to help him do it.

Wesley went on, knowing Willow was still after him. He didn't care. If she wanted to witness it, fine, but if she got sucked in with him, it wasn't going to be his fault. Willow was half-frustrated, half-intrigued. Since when had Welsey become so stubborn? And even more, what had made him be this way? She was determined to find the answer to her questions, even if she had to tear a hole between two worlds, which technically she was close to doing. When he reached the intended spot, Willow caught up with him.

"So are you going to help me?" he asked and the witch smiled.

"I'm just here to watch, remember?"

"Fine," he rolled his eyes. Willow leaned on a wall, observing him. He pulled a book out of his bag, a candle and a red vile. He placed the candle on the ground, lit it, then opened the book. He started reading an incantation and while he did so, broke the vile above the candle. Before the liquid reached the flame, Willow knew it was blood. It lingered above the flame, not quite reaching it, floating above it in a crimson red circle. Wesley finished the incantation passing his hand through the flame. Nothing happened. He tried again. He couldn't understand what had gone wrong. He had followed the ritual to perfection! Maybe he had disregarded something. He looked in the book. There was nothing else. His thoughts were disturbed by laughter. Willow's laughter.

"It just needs a little more juice," she told him. Wesley remembered the spell had a precise amount of blood specified. And that vile had been it. He had gone through a lot of trouble for it, it wasn't your regular human blood. Sighing, he pulled a knife from his pocket, sliced his palm and let the blood trickle down over the flame. Again, nothing happened.

"Yours won't do," Willow said coming closer to him. She took his knife and cut her own hand. As soon as the first drop of blood reached the flame, a portal opened itself in front of them, sucking in everything in sight, including the two of them.

Back at the Summers house an angry Buffy was washing dishes while Dawn observed her quietly from the table.

"So are you gonna tell me what's wrong or am I suppose to sit here till morning pretending I have some sort of idea of what's bothering you?" Dawn asked, but the slayer didn't answer her. "Fine, I like it better when I'm quiet and all wise like anyway." She observed her sister and was upset she couldn't even make her smile. "Buffy!" looking at her, she realized that even though she was quiet on the outside, she was probably ranting on about something or rather someone on the inside and that's why she was deaf to her questions.

"Dawn! Shouldn't you be sleeping?" Buffy momentarily snapped out of her mental rant to notice.

"Yes, I should," Dawn nodded, giving her a strange look.

"Then go to bed. I don't want you sleeping in class. God knows, I did it enough for the both of us," she mumbled and Dawn smiled.

"Whatever you say," she went upstairs still wondering what exactly had bothered her so much.

Upstairs, Angel knocked on the door of Dawn's room, where Cordelia and Joy were supposed to be sleeping. Not getting an answer from within, he entered the room to find that Joy wasn't there, only Cordelia. He stepped inside for a moment, sitting down on the edge of the bed. He stroked Cordelia's face lovingly. She was so peaceful when she slept, so angelic. It hurt him to see her as troubled as she was when she was awake. It must be a terrible thing to not remember anything. He smirked to himself. How many times hadn't he wished for such a memory loss? But such things only happened to those who thought it to be a pain. Life was twisted that way, he supposed. Cordelia stirred under his touch and opened her eyes.

"Did you find what you were looking for?" she asked sleepily.

"No," he shook his head. "Did you?"

"No," she let her hand slip over his.

"Sleep," he kissed her on the forehead.

"Stay with me," there was an odd vibe of fear in her voice, like the whole universe was unknown, hidden from her, and he was a single still point in that chaos. He was strong, he was real and fearless, while she was not.

"I can't," he said getting up. It suddenly felt like he was committing some great sin by being there, like he was betraying something. As he moved towards the door, before closing her eyes, Cordelia whispered:

"Good night, Angel."

On the corridor he bumped into Joy, coming from the bathroom.

"We need to talk," he told her and gestured towards Willow's room. He knew the wiccan wasn't inside. Joy was a little taken by surprise by this and a sudden fear overtook her.

"Why did you lie to me?" he asked when they were safe inside the witch's room.

"What are you talking about?" she tried to act like she didn't know what it was all about.

"The demons. Those weren't gholas," Angel pointed out.

"Well, yeah. Didn't I say that? We couldn't track the others down," Joy thought he was talking about the demons they had fought that night.

"The demons you fought with Connor yesterday weren't gholas," he made himself clear. "I saw the bodies. Smelled the blood. Definitely not gholas."

"Really? They looked like they were, but I can't be sure, it was really dark," she tried to lie.

"Why don't I believe you?" he could smell her fear.

"I don't know," she clenched her jaw, forcing herself to take control of her own body.

"What are really after?" he asked stepping menacingly towards her.

"They're not really gholas," Joy said on a much more calmer tone. "They're Draeghai."

"You said gholas. Why would you say gholas?"

"I didn't think you'd come to Sunnydale for a Draeghai," she was running out of ideas. "There's a gateway. It only opens every 5 years here. My brother's been gone for 15 years. My father tried to bring him back 2 times and failed. He's dead now and it's up to me to bring my brother back. I promised it to a dying man," she could come up with good lies under pressure. She thought to herself it was partially true, she had made a promise to a dying man, her dying father, that she would do whatever it took to give her mother peace in this life.

"I don't buy it. You would've told us once we got here," Angel pointed out, not trusting her. "It's been two nights and you didn't say anything. You thought we'd get lucky and accidentally find your brother? Or you're supposed to find him on your own? Why did you need us then? Talk!" he grabbed her arm a little roughly

"It's not what you think... I don't want to hurt anybody. I just..." Joy suddenly jerked back, a little woozy.

"Joy-joy-joy..." a voice was echoing inside her head. "Joy-joy-joy-joy...."

"Get out, get out, get out!" she held her hurting head in her hands.

"Joy," Angel was beginning to see another answer. "Joy," she gently put his hand on her shoulder. "Is someone making you do all this?" but she couldn't hear his words, only distant mumbling sounds. Her sight was getting foggy. She stumbled over something but when she looked down all she could see was a rainbow of mixed up colors.

"Joy-joy-joy-joy" the voice kept calling, but she couldn't answer because she wasn't there or anywhere, she was nowhere.

"Joy?" Angel was worried but a part of him wondered if it wasn't just a trick to stall for time. She turned towards him, the color of her eyes suddenly unnamable, some kind of weird combination of all existing colors, glowing brightly in the dark room.

"Help me," she muttered before collapsing. Time is changing, she thought as she slipped into unconsciousness. She found herself drifting away in a whirlwind of memories. She saw herself passing through all her existence. Her first bike, her first moonlight picnic, her first kiss, her mother's smiles, her father's jokes, Willow's charm and Jacques' wittiness, the way Remy's magic lit up the gardens and the way the sun had first looked through her ruby glasses, their old house covered in green...And then her mind focused on one particular memory, on one particular person. Liam. Connor and Cordelia's surviving son. Liam...her mind drifted towards any memory containing him, any smile, any gesture, any word. She remembered how Liam had often spoken of his sister, Celeste and how beautiful and wise she had been, with her black hair and bright smile, only a head above him in height, but so much more... and how he wished she had been the one who had survived, because she had been special. She remembered how Liam had grown up over one summer when she had been gone with her parents to England to Giles' estate. She recalled how he had suddenly seemed tall and handsome, how his small smiles had meant more than a thousand laughs, how his eyes had lost themselves in the landscape sometimes and how helpless she had felt for not being able to guide them back. And how she had found herself thinking about him every spare minute she had... Her mother had told her once he reminded her a lot of Angel; he was just as melancholic, just as sweet. Thinking about it now, Joy thought she had been right.

Why had she fallen in love with Liam? She didn't know. Her father had laughed, saying it was the Summers women's attraction towards doomed relationships. It seemed like a cruel, but true joke now. How had it all started? It played like an old movie inside her mind. That night in the garden, that kiss, the stars, the crickets singing and that green raw light from her uncle Remy's house - his latest experiments no doubt - dancing to some unknown tune, maybe the beating of their hearts. And his smile. The smile...she felt her body shaking, not knowing it was only a sigh. She remembered the uncomfortable feeling her parents had had when they sometimes saw her coming out of Liam's room in the morning. She had laughed then, they should have been the last people complaining about strange sounds in the night. She had loved Liam, desperately, hungrily, passionately. She had loved him so much...and he, yes, he had loved her too, but it didn't stop him. All the love in the world couldn't have. She remembered that last night, that blissful night and the cold morning after. "I'll be back," he had whispered, but he was gone. Gone forever. And how much she had cried, how much she had grieved...Her mother had comforted her while her father whispered "like mother, like daughter." She let herself float on the current of her memories, thinking maybe somewhere, Liam was waiting for her, with his arms wide open. "Liam, are you there?" she whispered, her words barely forming on her lips. Angel looked at her confused, did she mean him?

"Joy, wake up," he tried to shake her out of her state.

"Rest, rest, let me rest..." she murmured in his arms.

"Joy-joy-joy," the voice called again, but Joy was gone, lost in the whirlwind of her own memories. "Joy-joy-joy..." but Joy was in Liam's arms and she did not want to return. She fell limp in Angel's arms. The vampire put her in the witch's bed. Her breathing was all right and her eyes had returned to normal. Angel thought she only needed rest for now but he would discuss the matter with Willow and Wesley, the experts in such things, when they would return. There was definitely a mystery behind this girl and he intended to find out what it was. He left the room. Now he needed to talk to the slayer and somehow he felt he'd rather be facing an army of demons than her. He found her in the kitchen washing dishes and he suspected she had been cleaning the same dishes for the last hour. He sat himself down at the table and waited for her to talk. She said nothing. It was worse than he thought.

"So are you going to tell me what's wrong?" he started the conversation.

"Nothing's wrong," she said, but her tone was definitely saying otherwise.

"Buffy..." he said and it was all she needed to explode.

"How can you say it was nothing?! It wasn't nothing. Nothing between us is nothing, Angel! Or maybe it is for you and I didn't get it through my head yet, is that it?" she yelled turning towards him, her eyes burning a hole through him. Her eyes were always greener when she was angry, he remembered.

"That's crazy, you know how I feel about you," he tried to calm her down.

"Do I?" she suddenly smashed a plate at her feet.

"What'd you do that for?" he asked a little surprised.

"So I don't hit you again, cause quite frankly I'm not up for a fight right now, but gimme a couple of hours and I'll be back in shape."

"Just calm down, we don't need plates flying around. People are trying to sleep," he smiled as he stood up from the table and approached her. "Is this about the kiss? Weren't you the one who said we should forget it ever happened?"

"God, Angel, like you don't know me," Buffy was exasperated.

"Do I?" he asked with a smirk.

"You do," she looked him in the eye and Angel suddenly kissed her. But this wasn't the tender kiss from before, no, this was the hungry kiss, the desperate kiss, the goodbye kiss. The one she had given him a long time ago on the dance floor of the Bronze, on the docks of Sunnydale when he had almost left, the kiss she had given him before she had driven a sword through his chest, on her prom night, on the day she had forgotten, when her mother had died and every time they met in hopeless situations and felt that need to be in each other's arms, like nothing else mattered in the world, but them, it was always that kiss. They were suddenly interrupted by someone clearing her throat. It was Dawn.

"I didn't want to disturb you or anything. I just wanted, uhm,...a glass of milk," the teenager who had been eavesdropping on the whole conversation said. She had wondered why it had been suddenly quiet. Now she knew, she noted with a smile. Buffy blushed slightly, trying to pretend like nothing happened. Angel felt uncomfortable under the teen's curious gaze while the slayer gave her the milk.

"Thanks, you two get back to what you were doing," the teen gestured towards them, smiling. Busted, she thought to herself amused as she left the kitchen. Alone again, Buffy and Angel looked at each other embarrassed. Buffy returned to washing her two plates and Angel to watching her. There were a couple of moments of silence until Buffy burst into laughter, shortly followed by Angel.

Meanwhile Willow and Wesley found themselves crashing in another dimension. A barren place, a piece of land floating around in a chaos of glowing colors, that continually changed. They could hear whispers all around, like tiny vibrations sending shivers to their brains.

"Well that was fun," Willow said as she got up, dusting herself off from the crash.

"Looks like an extended aurora borealis," Wesley noted as he stood up.

"Yeah. Kinda scary looking if you ask me, then again I've seen worse," Willow sighed. "So wasn't this the portal with all the answers you've been looking for? Cause if it's suppose to be, looks like we landed a couple of dimensions in the wrong direction."

"I hope not," Wesley looked around. "I wasn't expecting anything precise so it might as well be it."

"Are you at least going to tell me what this sacred mission I'm getting myself killed for is? Considering we might never go back and everything," Willow tried to persuade him.

"Nope," Wesley smiled.

"I guess I'll be getting my own answers from this hellhole," she looked at the startling colors all around them. "So we're just suppose to wait?" she asked, but then a voice from the choir of whispers became louder.

"Joy-joy-joy...," the voice repeated. "Joy-joy-joy..."

"Do you hear that?" Wesley asked looking around trying to find the origin of the voice.

"Is that what it's all about? Joy?" she stared into the chaos and the voice echoed her question.

"Joy-joy-joy-joy?" and there was something oddly familiar about that voice. The colors turned to smoke, twisting insanely around that piece of arid land. Then from the smoke an unfocused figure appeared. "Joy-joy-joy-joy..." it said again.

"Who are you?" Wesley asked and the figure finally seemed to notice their presence.

"Who-who-who are you?" it repeated Wesley's words. It looked around itself and seemed confused of its whereabouts. "Where-where-where am I? When-when-when?" the voice could not shake off the echo.

"Where are you supposed to be?" Willow questioned.

"Joy-joy-joy-joy..." it retold its old tune.

"You're supposed to be with Joy? Are you her brother?" the witch asked and the figure, still disperse, looked strangely at her, like she had no idea what she was talking about.

"Are you Jacques?" Wesley asked, hoping that this way he'd preserve Joy's secret and Willow would think Jacques is her brother.

"Jacques-jacques-jacques..." the figure repeated. "No-no-no..."

"You're in another dimension, not in Sunnydale," Wesley explained, but suddenly wondered if he was doing the right thing by telling it. What if this was the evil Buffy Joy had told him about? What if he was guiding her to the present and by doing so bringing destruction to their world?

"Wrong-wrong-wrong?" the figure turned and twisted and Wesley realized, by the shape, that it was a woman. It made him feel even more unsure of what he was supposed to do.

"Willow, can you tell who it is?" he whispered to the witch while the figure still looked around itself.

"Huh?" she didn't know what he meant by it.

"Does it remind you of anyone you know?" he rephrased his question.

"Not really. I can't tell because of the smokiness, but you're right, it has something familiar," Willow looked at the figure again trying to find a real answer.

"Does it look like...uhm, Buffy, to you?" he tried to make the question sound casual.

"No, definitely not," she was certain. Wesley sighed relieved, putting all his trust in the witch's words.

"Wrong-wrong-wrong?" the figure looked back at them. Her shape seemed to want to focus for a brief moment, but after staring at Willow for a while, it turned back to mist. Her voice though was clearer, loosing its echo, but still somehow stronger than that of a human. "Where is Joy?"

"Sunnydale," Wesley said. "If you want, we can guide you there," the figure seemed to smile.

"No...all I needed to know is where I have to go," it looked somewhere in the chaotic fog. "Is-is she all right?"

"Yes, she is," Wesley answered, he didn't know what had happened in his absence . "What happened to Jacques?"

"Jacques's fine," it assured him.

"Who the hell's Jacques?" Willow was getting more and more confused.

"No one you know," Wes told her. "Are you the one she's been waiting for?"

"I suppose I am," the figure wasn't sure. A portal began opening behind Willow and Wesley.

"That's it? I made a trip to another dimension to talk to some bodiless thing that can barely tie two words together?" Willow was somewhat angry.

"The portal was set to reopen after a certain period of time," Wesley explained as he turned towards the portal. An exasperated Willow stepped in front of him. Wesley looked back one last time and the figure materialized itself for a brief moment and the ex-watcher was shocked to see an older Willow smiling back at him before loosing herself in the mist. The portal sucked him in and in the next moment, he and Willow found themselves on the streets of Sunnydale again.

Back in the Summers house Joy turned in her bed. Angel watched over her. She seemed asleep, but considering the way she had passed out, he doubted it was true. He wondered what she was dreaming about and what had done this to her. He leaned his hands on the bed and rested his head on them, looking at her face. She seemed somehow peaceful.

In her mind, Joy had found a special place, between all her memories, a green garden on the crossroad of her life, and Liam.

"God, I missed you," Joy told him and he smiled. That sweet, adorable smile. She kissed him. Kissed those lips she had missed so much.

"Me too. It's hard to be all alone sometimes," he caressed her hair.

"Tell me about it," she rested her head on his shoulder. "I wish I could be here forever."

"Who says you can't?" he kissed her on the forehead. "You can have anything you want here. Your old life. Our life. Why would you want to go back?"

"Good question," she closed her eyes and she was immediately struck by a flash of mixed-up colors.

"Joy-joy-joy" a voice rang in her mind. When she opened her eyes, she was still in Liam's arms.

"What do you see when you close your eyes?" she asked him.

"Nothing I'd want to see."

A buzzing sound seemed to echo in her ear and she tried to chase it away thinking it was an insect. But it wasn't a fly, it was the distant memory of Jacques's words "Don't lose you'self in the past, chere, cause if you do, you never gettin' out," but she ignored them, like she did everything outside of the perfect little world she had created for herself.

Then suddenly everything froze.

"Liam? Liam?" she looked up at him, but he seemed asleep.

"You can't bring him back," a familiar voice told her.

"Aunt Willow?" she looked around and found the witch standing on the edge of her garden.

"Hello, Joy," Willow stepped towards her, admiring the beauty of the garden. "It's pretty."

"It's my soul. Don't you think it should be?" she asked crossing her arms over her chest, suddenly feeling cold.

"You can't stay here forever," she reminded her.

"Why not? Why can't I have forever? Is forever too much to ask for?" she was angry.

"Sometimes," Willow smiled. "You want to see how my soul looks?" she gestured with her hands towards half the garden and it began changing. A beautiful temple rose out of nowhere and Willow's features rejuvenated. And in front of that temple, gathering flowers, there was a young woman. She looked up at Willow and smiled. With just one look Joy knew who it was. It was Tara. "You see, we all have lost times we want back," she smiled tenderly at Tara. "It's over Joy. Come back home."

"She-she's dead?" her voice trembled.

"I did what I had to do," Willow closed her eyes for a moment. "She would've wanted it this way."

"Probably," her eyes filled with tears. She couldn't be gone, not her too.

"Come home," Willow asked of her, but Joy shook her head.

"I came here for a reason and I'm not leaving until I finish what I set out to do," she said determined.

"What you're doing is dangerous. You have no idea what can happen if you mess with time," Willow warned her. Joy smiled.

"But I do. You disappear...Poof, just like that."

"Joy, don't do this. It's not worth it. The world's right again. Nothing ended and there are a lot of beginnings out there just waiting for you."

"Maybe. Maybe not," Joy looked at her petrified garden. "You know what? I just realized something. My mother always stood strong against evil, she fought the fight every time it stood in her way, but she never had the courage to stand against her own destiny. I might be a coward, I might never be able to fight a life depending battle, but I'll never let the world beat me. I write my life and no one else will do it for me and if I have to cease to exist to win, I'll vanish willingly. She didn't fight her destiny, but she brought me in this world to fight it for her. You see? It's that simple."

"Your mother would've never wanted you to kill yourself for her," Willow told her.

"It's not her choice, now is it? And besides, she'll never know about it," she laughed. "And neither will you because I won't exist anymore. The only one who'll remember everything will be Jacques. Jacques and me."

"Joy..." Willow wanted to convince her to reconsider.

"No, you go back aunt Willow, you go back... And thank you," she said and Willow wanted to say something, but Joy didn't let her. This was her soul, her rules and the witch had said what she had come to say and now she had to leave. As she let her image slip away, the temple faded behind her and the girl with blond hair neared her and whispered "Come back to bed" and wrapped her arms around her. Willow closed her eyes and they were gone.

Joy was alone again in her garden and Liam opened his eyes, wondering what had happened.

"I have to go," she said.

"I figured," he stood up and took her in his arms. "Don't forget I'll always be waiting here for you. This is our place. Our forever."

"I could never forget you," she whispered as she hugged him tight. "Don't leave me," her pain suddenly hit her like a sharp arrow through her heart. "Not again."

"Joycie, I never went away. I was always here," he pulled away from her. Tears fell from her eyes. "You do what you have to do," he caressed her cheek and then slowly started fading away.

"Liam...Liam..." she cried and ran towards him, but her hands passed through him. "Liam..." she wanted one last kiss. One last smile. "Liam!" she woke up sobbing and with her tear filled eyes she saw Liam holding her. "Oh, Liam..." and she kissed him. But it wasn't Liam. It was Angel. He pulled away surprised, but still held her in his arms.

"Shh, it's all right," he whispered.

"I'm-I'm sorry...I...thought that..." she tried to speak.

"It's okay," he rocked her in his arms.

"Mom, mom..." she gave in to all her pain. As she wept, she did not see the frail image of Jacques looking down at her with compassion.

"Oh, chere..." he let out, but he could do nothing but watch.

Willow and Wesley entered the Summers home, the witch walking ahead of the ex-watcher, still furious because of their pointless travel into another dimension.

"You know, that was dangerous!" Willow started saying what was on her mind the whole trip back. "You don't just use magic like that so you can pay a visit to some glowy place to talk to smoke. And not tell me what exactly it was talking about!"

"Well, guess what? I won't tell you now either," Wesley said and the witch shot him a dirty look. The ex-watcher sighed. "I can't. It's not really my secret to tell."

"Not yours," Willow thought about it for a moment. "Joy's."

"I don't know," Wes didn't want to confirm anything that might imply the truth.

"You're such a big help," she said exasperated before going upstairs. She ran into Angel coming out of her room.

"Joy kinda fell asleep in there," Angel told her. "Think you can take the floor? I'd donate my bed, but it's just as hard."

"It's okay," Willow assured him. "So are you in on the secret?" she asked, thinking maybe she could get Angel to talk.

"What secret?" he thought pretty much all of his secrets were out of the bag.

"You know, Joy's secret," she gestured towards her room.

"Oh, that," he played it out like he knew something, thinking that she knew exactly what this 'secret' was and that if he convinced her he did too, she would accidentally mention something vital. Joy had seemed catatonic for the short period she had been awake. She hadn't answered one question, she had just stood there, crying, then she had fallen asleep and this time, he could tell, she was definitely *just* sleeping.

"Yeah. Can you believe it?" unfortunately for Angel, Willow was thinking of using the same tactic.

"Wow is the right word."

"Yeah, with that...uhm...smokey thing and, and Jacques."

"Definitely the smokey thing...and the Liam guy."

"Oh and the thing that looks like Buffy," Willow was beginning to run out of things to say.

"The thing that looks like Buffy," Angel repeated in, what seemed to Willow, suspicion and the witch wanted to bite her tongue thinking she had assumed a little too much.

"Yeah, Wesley told me about that," she quickly covered.

"Wesley," Angel got the answer he had been looking for. "Well I think I'm gonna go...sleep."

"Yeah, me too. Good night," she said, telling herself it was wiser to abandon the conversation for now.

"Good night," Angel said and as soon as the redhead closed the door behind herself he went downstairs. Wesley was rummaging through the living room drawers in search of pillows or blankets, anything he could sleep on.

"Sure, everyone gets a bed except good old Wesley. He can bloody well sleep in the gutter or better on the front porch," he mumbled to himself, annoyed that he didn't have luck finding anything. He was thinking about dragging the slayer out of bed to help him.

"Wesley," Angel startled him.

"Don't do that," Wesley had been too preoccupied with his thoughts to notice the vampire entering the living room.

"What's Joy's secret?" he asked forwardly.

"Joy's secret?" Wesley was exasperated. What was it now? Common knowledge?

"Yeah, the one you know. The one Willow knows," Angel was determined to find out that night what it was all about.

"The one Willow..." Wesley began chuckling. He was suddenly hit by a pillow.

"Some people are trying to sleep!" Connor complained. "Like it wasn't enough he was mumbling to himself for the last ten minutes!"

"Well, at least now I have what to sleep on," Wesley smiled satisfied before passing into the kitchen, pillow in hand. Connor looked after him, annoyed. Then, sighing, he took his father's pillow from the floor and went back to sleep.

"So were you planning on sharing this important secret with me?" Angel asked the ex-watcher.

"There is no secret," he assured him. "Willow's a little suspicious and thinks everything's some big mystery. It's not."

"I really don't think Willow overreacts," the witch was one of the most rational people he knew.

"We did this spell to get into a dimension. I wanted to try and locate Joy's brother and...,"

"The ghola?" Angel interrupted him.

"Yes. And there was this...guide that was a little strange. That's why Willow got so suspicious all of a sudden. She just didn't know the details," Wesley was trying to find a plausible excuse.

"The smokey thing?" Angel asked and Wesley was surprised Willow had told him this much and wondered how much more she had shared with the vampire.

"Right," Wesley confirmed it. "So it..."

"Wesley, there is no ghola. She was lying. She even admitted it," he told him.

"So she told you? Thank god! I was starting to run out of ideas," Wesley misunderstood him.

"Actually she didn't tell me anything," Angel said and the ex-watcher cursed himself for letting his mouth get the best of him.

"Angel, look, I can't tell you anything. You can say she *chained* me to a bed before she told me," Wesley said and Angel gave him an odd look. "Not like that! All I can say is that it's nothing bad. Nothing you should worry about."

"If it's so harmless why is everyone being so secretive about it?" Angel was still a little doubtful.

"Trust me, it's something you'd want to be kept a secret."

"I'll wait till morning then," he headed for the living room, with Wesley close behind. He looked down at his pillow in Connor's arms and smirked.

"Think you can help me find some blankets?" Wesley asked.

"You take my bed. Joy's sleeping in Willow's room so I'll go sleep next to Cordy," Angel offered his place.

"Think he'll stab me while I sleep? I did steal his pillow," the ex-watcher looked down at the sleeping Connor.

"Think of it this way, if I'm still breathing - well, you know what I mean - you have a decent shot at waking up intact," he patted him on the shoulder before heading upstairs.

He opened the door to Dawn's room slowly, trying not to make any noise, to not disturb the sleeping Cordelia. He was surprised to find Dawn sleeping next to her. He wondered what exactly had happened. A smile suddenly crossed his lips as he left the room and entered Buffy's. The slayer was in her bed, apparently sleeping.

"Is this you being jealous?" he asked amused. Buffy didn't answer him. "C'mon I know you're not sleeping, I can hear your breathing, it's not regular."

"Not everything in this world revolves around you, you know," the slayer told him without opening her eyes.

"So you were planning on sleeping with Wesley?" Angel didn't buy it.

"Actually hoping I'd have the bed all for myself," Buffy assured him, half opening her eyes. "But I guess that's not gonna happen."

"Oh, I can take the floor, don't worry," he said closing the door.

"Fine," Buffy threw him a pillow. Angel caught it before it hit him and sat down on the floor, next to the bed.

"God, this feels like year one all over again. Except now I already know you're a vampire and don't keep a journal of embarrassing thoughts no one should ever read," Buffy noticed.

"At least last time I got a blanket," Angel added. "Then again back then I was the guy you had a crush on, not the annoying ex that comes into town every year or so to screw things up somehow."

"Was that an actual confession?" Buffy turned to look down at him.

"I admit it," he smiled. "I'm as guilty as sin."

"Sin never looked so good," she returned the smile.

"Sin never had a teenage son with a formally dead ex-vampire revamped," he noted.

"True," she sighed: "So are you gonna come up here or are you going to mope all night on the floor?" he didn't answer her immediately. "You know, if you'll think about it so much, there won't be a night left," she gestured towards the window with her head.

"Why don't you call in sick?" he suggested standing up.

"I've been known to catch pretty bad colds. It is flu season after all," she moved away so he could sit down next to her.

"So why did Dawn go in the other room?" he asked out of curiosity.

"She complained that I kick and scream in my sleep," Buffy said. "Apparently she winded up on the floor more than once."

"Wouldn't be new to me," Angel smiled. "Maybe I should hold you, just to make sure I don't get hurt."

"Sneakiness never suited you," Buffy said smiling, resting her head on his shoulder and letting him put his arms around her anyway. They fell asleep that way and didn't wake up until late the next day. Buffy didn't move an inch.

In the morning, the house was deadly quiet for that particular hour since this was the time when everyone was having breakfast before going off to school or their job. That's why it seemed awfully strange to Xander Harris when he entered the house.

"Hello? Anyone home?" he walked in the living room and saw Wesley sleeping on the floor. Willow had mentioned his arrival when they had talked on the phone during the day. And of course Connor was on the couch with the pillow yanked over his ears probably trying to sleep through Wesley's continuos snoring. He went upstairs and knocked on Willow's door first. He heard movement inside and then the door opened. It was Willow of course. She had a light sleep. Surprised to see him there, Willow invited him in.

"Where is everyone?" Xander asked on a lower tone so he wouldn't wake up Joy. He noticed Willow had been sleeping on the floor.

"Everyone's here," she told him still a little sleepy.

"It's almost 8. I should be taking Dawn to school and Buffy to work. No one's awake."

"Oh, god, I think nobody remembered to set an alarm clock," she was fully awake now. "We can't have Dawn missing school."

"I'll go wake them up," Xander said and headed out of the room.

"And I'll zap together some breakfast," Willow suggested. Xander gave her an odd look. "What? It's not like I have time to cook." Xander headed towards Dawn's room. He knocked once. Twice. Not getting an answer, he went inside and was taken aback by what he saw. Buffy and Angel in the same bed. That was never something good. He considered suddenly screaming at them, but figured he wasn't going to get anything out of it but a freaked slayer and an angry vampire, which, again, wasn't something good. He decided for a more peaceful approach. Hey, at least they had clothes on, that was a good sign. He neared the sleeping Buffy and gently tried to shake her awake. The slayer, still very much asleep tried to push him away.

"Buffy, you have to go to work," he told her and Buffy finally seemed to wake up.

"No work. Flu," she mumbled, turning her back to Xander while snuggling back in Angel's arms.

"Buffy..." he tried again, but suddenly found Angel's hand around his neck. The vampire was obviously still sleeping, but had reached out to the 'attacker' out of instinct.

"Xander," Buffy opened her eyes a little annoyed. "I'm not going to work. Tell Dawn to tell principal Wood some flu story, okay?"

"All right, but could you..." he gestured towards Angel's hand.

"Oh," Buffy reached out and unclenched Angel's hand from around his neck. The vampire wrapped his now free hand around the slayer's shoulder. "Bye-bye," she mumbled before falling back asleep. Xander looked at them, having mixed feelings about leaving them alone again. God knows what they would do when they'd be awake! But he decided Buffy was a big girl and knew she definitely wouldn't appreciate him meddling in her private life - he had done enough of that until now. He left the room.

Downstairs, Willow was busy making breakfast at superspeed using her magic when Dawn entered the kitchen.

"You came home pretty late last night," Dawn said while the witch laid a stack of pancakes in front of her.

"Yeah, me and Wesley had some magic-y business to take care of," Willow told her.

"You missed the whole thing!" Dawn bit into a pancake.

"There was a thing?" Willow rose an eyebrow. "Buffy and Angel or you and Connor?" she smiled devilishly.

"Willow!" Dawn reminded her Connor was in the next room and could very well hear her. "Besides he is *so* into Cordy. Who'd blame him?"

"Wow, wasn't Angel the one who..." Willow remembered Buffy and Angel's previous argument.

"Oh, him too. A little weird I know," she said when she noticed Willow was a little surprised. "But I was talking about Buffy and Angel. Dishes were broken, there was screaming and making out..."

"Hmm, why don't I find that strange?" the witch wondered.

"On the good side, Buffy's sleeping with Angel now," Xander entered the kitchen and sighed.

"Now they're having sex?!" Dawn misunderstood.

"No, no, I meant that literally. They're just sleeping. Sex would be bad," Xander explained.

"Definitely bad," Willow agreed with him.

"Oh and Buffy said you should make up a flu story for principal Wood," he sat down at the table and started munching on some pancakes.

"Another one?" Dawn was exasperated. "It's like every other week or so she has a totally new disease."

"You have to understand sometimes it's hard for her to wake up in the morning after a night of slaying. Can you imagine sleeping only 4 or 5 hours/night?" Willow reminded her. The slayer's little sister didn't bother to answer. She still thought it was unfair she had to lie for her.

Later that day, hearing movement in the other room, Angel woke up. Joy was awake. He stood up, trying not to wake up the sleeping slayer. She looked so sweet. He kissed her on the forehead. Buffy protested a little, knowing he was leaving, but didn't bother to wake up, she only mumbled something before falling back into her slumber. Angel smiled before exiting the room. He caught Joy right when she was about to go downstairs.

"We need to talk," Angel told her, determined to not delay the conversation any further.

"Fine," Joy thought it was about time the vampire got some explanations before he started getting ideas and assuming the wrong things. "But can we go downstairs? I'm a little hungry. How about I talk and you make me a very late breakfast?" Not waiting for an answer she went downstairs. Angel looked after her for a brief moment before following her. The vampire thought he had to wake up Connor and send him upstairs to get some privacy, but found his son's bed empty. He frowned. He could guess where he was. There was no point in bothering Wesley as he seemed to already know everything.

"So what are we eating?" she asked him when he entered the kitchen.

"Depends on what we're talking about," he said moving towards the stove.

"Serious talk deserves serious food, don't you agree?" Joy smiled. The idea of having to tell Angel her secret didn't seem as frustrating as it seemed the other night. Actually she was quite relieved she was forced to do it. Her father would certainly object, but she was left without a second choice. The most important thing was that her mother not find out. For now, the slayer was clueless and much too worried about Angel's presence to bother to think about anything else. But the rest unfortunately weren't the same. Willow was more than suspicious and Connor probably knew more than he let on, but didn't really care about the outcome of the situation. All he cared for was Cordelia who much too preoccupied with trying to reestablish some connection with the world, ignored the bizarre presence she represented. Come to think of it, probably everybody seemed bizarre to her.

She looked up at the vampire. Never had she been more aware of his resemblance with his grandson than now. She just hoped she wouldn't develop some weird attraction to him because of it. It would be just too disturbing. She shook off the thought.

"How does scrambled eggs sound?" he asked.

"Delicious," she smiled again. After a pause she added: "So what do you know?"

"That pretty much everything you told me till now is a lie," Angel said from behind the refrigerator door. "Well, I think at least your name is real. And there's somebody named Jacques somehow involved in everything, but I have absolutely no idea who that is. Most likely he's the "brother" you've been talking about."

Looking at him, Joy marveled at how easy she could have invented another story based on his own assumptions, but held back the urge.

"He's not my brother," she said.

"Surprise, surprise," he let out as he prepared her eggs.

"He's a friend. But to cut over the nauseatingly long details, I'll give you the short story: I'm from the future. I came here to stop something from happening. Something very very bad."

"Is something going to happen to Buffy?" he stopped to look her in the eyes, dead serious.

"Not now. In the future I come from," she explained.

"What's gonna happen that you can stop now?" he asked. Joy sighed.

"Look, all I can tell you is that if Buffy and Spike stay together there's going to be drastic consequences," she eventually told him.

"What? Mutant vampire children from Mars?" he scowled.

"Ha ha, very funny," Joy frowned. "I'm serious."

"If that's true, you need me here because..." it only took him a few moments to realize what her plan was and let out: "Oh."

"At least until Spike leaves," it was a lie. Knowing the truth, her father would leave at her request, but she wasn't satisfied with preventing the horrid future, she wanted her mother to be happy. And she knew the only man, besides her father, who could make her happy was Angel. She also couldn't risk her father meeting up with his mother in the near future and maybe, in her absence, forget the horrible things that might happen because of their union and restart their relationship.

"We can't..." he started, a little shocked by the revelation. He had to admit to himself that he had expected such a reply though.

"Can't is overrated," she said with a knowing smile. Angel didn't want to know what she meant by it.

"So that's it? That's the big secret?" she nodded. "Why do I think you got the better end of this deal?" he asked putting a plate of eggs in front of her.

"Oh and Angel, do me a favor, don't tell Buffy," she said before starting to eat. He stared at her for a while, but she didn't seem to be bothered by it.

"I'm going back to sleep," he said heading upstairs. Actually he needed some time to clear his thoughts.

"Why didn't you tell him the truth?" Wesley, who had listened to the whole conversation, asked. Joy had been aware that he hadn't been sleeping, but Angel had been too preoccupied with her to notice.

"Are you kidding? Tell Angel?" she scowled. "He's such a bloody hero he wouldn't let me die because it's wrong."

"And you thought I wouldn't?" Wesley stood up and came into the kitchen.

"You have a different scale of values," she explained. "You know one person is not worth the lives of billions."

"You think she can do that much damage?" Wesley was a little surprised.

"She could have," she looked down at her plate, suddenly feeling she had lost her appetite. Wesley was about to ask what she meant by that when she said: "She's dead now. I don't have an excuse anymore. I tried to play the hero, but now it's all out in the open. I'm just a selfish little brat that doesn't want her parents to die. This way, maybe they'll be apart, but they'll be alive. "

"Joy...Think of the people you're saving too. You said your mother killed the slayers of your time...and now that I know the truth all those people that died in LA will live and...and maybe somehow I'll even save Fred from becoming what she was when she died. Think of Liam and Celeste having their parents all their lives. Think of Angel and all the good he'll he able to do if he lives. You're not selfish," he tried to convince her, but his words only brought tears to her eyes. She imagined Liam being alive and not being able to be happy for it. She forced herself to regain her calm.

"I don't think it's fair. Why should I be any different from anybody else whose parents died?" she asked playing with the food in her plate.

"Because you're not anybody. Your life was anything but ordinary the same as your parents. You're doing a brave thing, Joy, not many people would be willing to sacrifice themselves for others. You probably got that from your mother," he smiled. "And there are even fewer that would allow themselves to disappear into nothingness."

"You're anythin' but ordinary, Joycie," a familiar voice told her from behind Wesley. Her face lit up with hope.

"Jacques?" she saw the cajun smiling at her.

"That's what my moma call me," he replied and the ex-watcher looked around trying to spot the apparition.

"Your moma'd call you a lot of things," she smiled back, her gloom suddenly lifting.

"Is Jacques here?" Wesley asked passing his hand in front of him and right through the cajun.

"Yeah, you just put your hand through his skull," she said and Wes immediately retrieved his hand.

"Sorry," Wes apologized. "I'll just go sleep and let you catch up with...uhm, your friend."

"You all right?" Jacques asked after Wes left.

"As good as you can be when you know your mother just died. But I'm holding my own," she said with a sad smile. "How are you?"

"Been a while since ya asked," he sighed and then added: "Been a while since I needed someone to ask."

"Well?" she suddenly noticed how tired he seemed.

"Good, I guess. I ain't proud of what moma went and done, but I know she had no choice. Bad times, bad things," he hesitated.

"You wanna ask me if I don't want to give it all up, right?" she read his mind.

"I can't ask ya to give up cause everythin's all right for me now," he said.

"But you wanna," she understood him. "I promise you something, Jacques, whatever I change, I'll make sure nothing does for you."

"I hope ya can, Joycie, but whatever happens...don't ya forget Jacques loves you," he told her before fading away.

"Joycie loves you too, Jacques," she sighed and returned to eating her, by now cold, scrambled eggs.

Upstairs in the slayer's room, Angel held Buffy in his arms, not being able to fall asleep again. He kept thinking and thinking about horrible things that might happen to her in the future. Those were his nightmares, his worst fears that had haunted his thoughts across the years. And those fears had become reality one day when she had killed herself in order to save the world. He looked down at her, how adorable she was, and just the thought of her being hurt made him mad. Sensing his sudden restlessness, Buffy stirred awake.

"What's wrong?" she asked sleepily.

"Nothing's wrong," he tried to assure her, but she wasn't buying it.

"You look like your dog just died," she said and then quickly added: "Oh god, did something happen in LA with the rest of your crew?"

"No," he shook his head. "I had a nightmare. I thought you died." Buffy chuckled.

"You shouldn't get so angsty about it. It's a been there, done that situation for me," she reminded him.

"Yeah and every time it's worse," he admitted.

"For some reason I don't think this world wants me to die, so don't worry," she tried to calm him. "I'm not going anywhere."

"I wish I could believe that," he looked down at her again.

"Believe it," she rose up to his level. "Or do you want me to show you just how alive I am?" she gave him a playful smile and in a moment he had flashes of all the things her words implied.

"Wish I could take you up on that."

"What happened to safe as houses?" she asked straddling his waist. She leaned down and kissed him. "See, no hands," she smiled before continuing to kiss him. Angel returned her kisses and tried to put aside his worries.

Joy rang the bell of the apartment. Once. Twice. Three times, before, annoyed, keeping her finger pressed on the doorbell until an angry voice answered her from inside. Her father opened the door probably ready to punch out anyone on the other side of the door, no matter the amount of pain it would cause him.

"Oh, it's you," Spike welcomed her inside.

"So this is Xander's apartment," she smiled looking around. "Gotta say, pretty fancy. He has good taste."

"Can't say the same about his clothes," Spike returned the smile. "So what brings you to this neck of the woods? Curious to see this place?"

"I just needed to talk to someone," she admitted.

"Something happened?" he rose an eyebrow.

"Actually quite a few things," she paced around the spacious apartment.

"In one night and a bit of daylight? You move fast, luv," he said sitting down.

"More like people have a tendency to move faster around me," she looked back at him with a sad smile.

"So are you going to tell me what happened?"

"The cat's out of the bag," she said taking a seat opposite her father.

"Now everyone knows?" he shook his head. "I told you to..."

"Well, Angel knows. But not everything and Willow's getting way too suspicious. At least mom's oblivious to everything," she blurted everything out in one breath.

"Yeah, she gets that around Angel. It's like she's a bloody teenager all over again. Not that I would mind. I have this fantasy about her in a cheer..."

"Dad, too much information," she interrupted him before he could finish his words.

"Sorry," he apologized. "How much does Angel know?"

"Well the part with you and mom never having to be together again," she explained and Spike smirked.

"He must've jumped up and down at that one."

"He didn't buy it at first," she paused before adding: "He also thinks he only has to stay together with mom until you leave town." There was a long moment of silence.

"If she'll be alone, you know I'll come back at some point," he told her.

"I know," she moved next to him on the couch. "Mom told me once, Angel came to see her after I was born. She said it made her sad to let him see her with you. She knew it hurt him. He never knew I was yours, he thought that some asshole left her pregnant and abandoned her. He even thanked you for being at her side when he couldn't. Everyone knew, except him. And you never told him, never wanted him to hurt, never wanted him to hate you. It was enough for you to know he envied you for being next to her every minute of her life... No matter how sad, ugly or heartbreaking that minute was, it was yours, not his anymore," she paused for a moment to look at her father. He seemed lost in her words, trying to imagine himself in her stories - imagining what he was loosing while he listened to her.

"When he died," she continued. "She was...I don't even know if there are words to describe the state she was in. Motionless, lost, teary, pained...it went on for weeks. And weeks...you tried to bring her out of it, but couldn't. In some ways you felt the same, but didn't bother to show it. Someone had to be strong, you told me once. Then one day, during that awful summer that followed the LA's downfall, she received something through the mail. It was a CD. It didn't say who it was from, it was just labeled as urgent. But in truth it was late. The mailman had delayed its distribution due to the catastrophe that had made the world stop and stare for a long time, until it passed. It was a visual recording. Angel's legacy. I haven't really seen it. I did when I was little, but then mom locked it away in her jewelry box and I haven't seen it since, though I think she sometimes did. I don't even remember how Angel looked on that recording, but I still remember his words...He explained the situation in LA, how it had come to it all and how it was going to end and expressed his hope that mom would take in his grandchildren, Liam and Celeste, at least until they found a home, because he had believed Fred's lies about the children surviving. He told you to take care of mom, sent a kiss to me and said mom shouldn't be worried, that now there was going to be one more angel guarding her back. She broke down after seeing it for the first time. She let out all the sorrow that had been bottling up inside her. Later she told me she had asked herself at that point if he had felt the same when she had been gone, like a great emptiness, half her heart suddenly becoming hollow. And she wished she could have been with him during that last battle, to see him die knowing she had done everything in her power to help him, to give him one last kiss goodbye. After that day, she slowly recovered and that CD became a memory. A good memory," she stopped not mentioning the CD also held a message for Liam and Celeste from their parents.

"That's what I'm gonna be? A good memory?" he asked ungluing himself from the images his mind had created from her words.

"A good memory...maybe it's better than the actual thing," she suggested, but the vampire shook his head.

"No matter how bad, horrible or bloody unhealthy, the real deal's better than memories."

"I thought you'd say that. Actually I knew you would," she smiled sympathetically. Her smile faded as she added to her words: "She's dead now."

"Who is?" he was confused.

"Mom. Aunt Willow killed her. She came to tell me in person, I had a whole seizure because of her little trip," she explained. Spike didn't seem surprised.

"That was bound to happen at some point. One vampire against the world...those odds never turn out good," he admitted.

"I guess, but I'm still going through with it," she said determined.

"For me? For her?" he thought about it for a moment. "I never thought someone could love me so much to change the world for me."

"You never will," she said a little saddened. "Maybe if it had been only one of you, I would've moved on...but I can't, knowing I have nothing left to go back to. I'm not you, I'm not mom, I'm only half of you both and that's not enough."

She let her head slip on his shoulder and Spike leaned his against hers.

"You know, if it means anything to you, you can..." he started, but already guessing his intentions to pursue her into giving up her plan, Joy stopped him.

"No, I promised you."

"But you could stay here," he said hopeful. "We could stop it together."

"I can't," she looked up in his eyes. "Time has a price and I'm it."

"But..." he wanted to find a way, anyway to keep her there, by his side. "You're my daughter," he knew there was no solution.

"That was in another lifetime," she said closing her eyes.

"Another world," he hugged her closer to his chest and let out an unnecessary sigh. He felt as if he was losing something very important and half of his heart seemed to suddenly turn void. He thought it was funny as he was losing something he never had. But as Joy put it, that was in another lifetime.

Back at the Summers home, Buffy and Angel were standing in bed next to each other staring at the ceiling.

"Wow," the slayer let out.

"Right back at you," the vampire smiled.

"How come we never tried that before?" she asked contemplating the twisted bed sheets and feathers floating around them.

"I guess we never thought of it," he said removing a few stray white feathers from her hair, briefly wondering if they were from her angel wings.

"What is it?" she noticed him staring at her.

"Nothing," she always had angel wings in his dreams. There was a moment of silence before they both started laughing.

"Willow's gonna kill me for this," she stood up arranging her shirt. "Then again she wanted to kill me for a lot less a few months ago."

"Too much magic does that to people. It's like drugs, except you don't die because of it and hey, much cooler special effects."

"Or even better the special effects aren't all in your head," she picked up a pillow from the floor. "I just thought of something..." Angel gave her a strange look. "Not that!" she threw the pillow at him. "Do vampires get high if they drink from junkies?"

"I could tell you stories..." he chuckled. She gave him an odd look. "But I won't."

"Good. Somehow, I think I wouldn't get the pun," she looked at the mess the room was in. "So are you gonna help me or what?"

"I'll get a broom," he headed out of the room and downstairs. He found Connor eating in the kitchen.

"Couldn't sleep?" he asked him while he searched for the broom.

"More like you, Buffy and the farmyard noises woke me up," he looked up at him from his plate. Angel was speechless for a moment.

"Is Cordy awake too?" he asked deciding to ignore his words.

"Fortunately for her, she doesn't have superhearing," he paused before adding: "You say you love her and then you go doing whatever you did with the slayer. I don't get it."

"I don't expect you to," Angel stopped his search to look at his son. "Buffy...what I had with her, it was unique, I couldn't change it...I wouldn't change it for the world. She's the first person I ever loved as a vampire anyway. And there's always going to be something between us, no matter how many years will pass. If things could've gone any different between me and her I would've never left."

"And I would've never been born," Connor noted.

"I didn't say I wouldn't regret all I have now," he said and finally finding the broom headed upstairs again. Connor sat there, eating, wondering if his father wouldn't consider staying in Sunnydale with his precious slayer and letting him have Cordelia. It sounded like a great idea to him. He wondered how a person could love two women at once and how could his father, if he truly felt what he had told him he felt, leave the slayer behind.

Cordelia was awake, staring at the ceiling. She could hear Buffy and Angel talking in the other room. Laughing. For some reason it bothered her, like an irritating noise that bruised her eardrums, but it also felt right. Like it was something natural to hear. She found that reaction strange and wondered what she would have thought of it if she had had her memory back. Something suddenly occurred to her though: if she hadn't been amnesiac she wouldn't have come to Sunnydale. Why? She asked herself, but whoever had spoken that thought was now long gone.

She wished she could remember something, anything, but all she could recall, apparently, were the feelings she had around some people. She wanted to know if she had really felt something for Angel or if it had been all in the vampire's mind. Maybe she thought of him only as a friend, she told herself, but something inside her - the way she occasionally got butterflies in her stomach in his presence, the loving way she caught herself looking at him sometimes - told her she was probably just kidding herself. But what about this slayer? He obviously loved her and Buffy loved him back, but there was a barrier between them, an endless abyss of problems and monsters that kept them apart. Could Angel love anyone as much as he loved her? No one will ever be like Buffy, that little voice inside her mind answered her again. Who are you? Where are you? She wanted to ask it, but the voice was just the echo of her real self reaching out to her, but never managing to get too close.

The door to the room opened slowly and Joy entered as quietly as possible.

"You're awake," she noticed breaking out of her stealth mode.

"Yeah. I think I've been sleeping all morning," Cordy stood up from the bed and rubbed her eyes.

"You didn't miss out on anything. Everyone was up late last night. Demon hunting, that kind of stuff," she explained. "You seem to have something on your mind."

"That's been happening a lot lately. I'm just...trying to figure things out," she sighed. "But my mind seems to be determined to not give me any clues."

"You'll figure it out. Eventually," she assured her.

"I wish I could believe you."

"You should...," she held back the rest of the phrase: 'because I already know you will'. "I'm psychic," she added smiling instead. She looked at her and pitied her, because she knew the crimson events that would follow the return of her memories. She wished she could warn her, tell her what's hiding right under her eyes, but knew she had already done too much to the world. She couldn't change everything and maybe Cordelia needed this one fight to evolve even further away from the highschool cheerleader she had once been.

"Really?" Cordy asked skeptical, not sure what to believe anymore.

"No, I was joking," Joy chuckled. "Try loosening up. Might do you some good. Stop stressing about your memories. God knows a lot of people would kill to suddenly forget everything."

"Would you?" she looked over at the white haired girl.

"More than anything in the world," she sighed. "But that's not about to happen. That's the worse thing, knowing everything and having to do something you're totally horrified by," she paused. "You're forcing yourself too much. Take it easy and maybe the memories will just flow out."

"I wish it were that easy," Cordelia let herself slip back down on the pillows.

"It can be," she took the mantle she had been looking for and exited the room, leaving Cordy to wonder. It suddenly occurred to her how strange Joy was, even among the residents of the Summers home, how out of place. She talked as if she knew everything, but didn't want to be the one to know. She seemed familiar, but Cordy didn't know her or so she had been told. Could it be possible that she, Cordelia had met her on some occasion when she had been alone without the rest of the team? And if so, why would Joy hide this from her? Why would she herself never tell anyone about Joy? She felt frustrated, how could she remember a secret when her own mind was one gigantic secret?

Joy headed downstairs holding her mantle in her arms. With everything that had been going on she had almost forgot about something. She stopped in the living room to search the hidden pocket of the mantle. It held three things. A bag of quantum jelly, an old photograph and an amulet. She stopped for a moment to look at the photo. She remembered the exact day it had been taken. Her 10th birthday. It had been taken by Willow or rather by her magic through a floating camera. She caressed it gently. Her childhood had been such a happy one. She was in the center of the picture, a small girl with big green eyes and white hair tied into two perfect little tails, with a red smudge across her face, wearing a pretty green dress that matched her eyes. She was sitting in her father's lap, smiling, while her mother held a loving hand around her shoulders. To her right sat aunt Willow and Remy with Jacques sitting cross-legged at their feet. She smiled, he was the mischievous little boy she had grown up. With goofy red hair and a taste for dangerous adventures. It was good to know some people didn't change, as Jacques had become a mischievous teenager with the same old taste for danger. Next to her father sat uncle Wesley with Liam in his arms. Liam always needed someone to hold him, someone tangible, someone who didn't fade away like all those he had loved and lost in Los Angeles. And Liam's eyes always held a pinch of sadness no matter what. They were all so happy then. She wished she could have stopped time in its tracks, but back then she didn't know. For a brief moment she thought she saw the little girl in the picture wave at her and she shook her head. She knew it had been all in her imagination. Willow had always told her that, that picture was the real kind of magic. Now, Joy understood what she had meant to say.

She put the picture back in the secret pocket and looked at the amulet that had started everything. Actually one of the two that had started everything. Because there was another identical one in Jacques' possession. They had allowed her to return to the past to undo the future. It had been a miracle that she had found them while desperately searching for an answer to bring her mother back or even her father. Willow had refused to seek out such extreme measures, trying to reason with Buffy instead. It hadn't worked and while the witch began a battle against her best friend, Joy had already found a solution. She had talked to the Powers that be and they had not opposed her decision, but warned her of the consequences. Time was not an easy thing to change and most definitely not a trick that anyone could pull. Not even the most powerful of demons. The amulets, unique, would destroy themselves after being used once. And of course those who hold them also remember what has been changed. She put it back in the secret pocket and decided to return to happier things. She opened the bag of quantum jelly and took out one glowing red capsule and stared at it for a moment.

"What's that?" a voice startled her. It was Connor.

"Nothing, it's it's..." she was so sick of lying. "It's candy. Magic candy."

"Magic?" he looked at the small capsule with a grimace.

"It's quite good," she assured him eating the jelly from her hand. Connor awaited some sort of bizarre reaction, but nothing happened. Joy hesitated before asking: "Want one?"

Connor pondered the possibilities for a moment before taking a red capsule from the bag Joy had extended towards him. It tasted sweet, like chocolate, but flavored by some unknown fruit that made his tongue tingle in a pleasant way and made him want to hum. He smiled.

"You like it?" Joy asked and Connor nodded enthusiastically extending his hand to get another. Joy wondered what the quantum jelly limit was for those who never ate it before. She smiled, she was probably going to find out soon.

Around a half an hour and 10 quantum jellies later, Connor was floating around the living room smiling for no good reason, while Joy was slumped on the couch staring up at him.

"Those things are amazing!" Connor chuckled. "Where'd you get them?"

"You can get them at any candy store in 20 years," she said smiling.

"What?" he realized what she had just said.

"I said you can get them at any magic store for 20 bucks," she covered for herself.

"Oh," he knew she was lying but didn't bother to get into an argument. She didn't seem to have some sort of evil hidden agenda so she was okay in his book, no matter what kind of weird past she had. He couldn't say he had a normal past. "So can I have another?"

"Sure," she extended the half empty bag of jellies towards him and Connor took one. The instant he started chewing on it he took a new boost upwards, almost hitting the ceiling.

"What are you doing?" a very authoritative voice demanded to know.

Connor stumbled backwards startled, hitting the floor.

"Ouch," he let out when he found himself on the carpet.

"Well?" Dawn asked the two teenagers.

"Calm down, we're just eating candy," Joy showed her the bag of jellies.

"What kind of candy?" she asked skeptical.

"Jelly," Joy answered her.

"Magic jelly," Connor completed her sentence.

"Magic jelly. Isn't that dangerous?" Dawn knew what kind of consequences magic of any kind could have.

"Yeah, if you eat a couple of pounds of it," Joy told her, extending the bag. "Want one?"

"They're not like drugs or anything, are they?" Dawn wanted to be sure they weren't hazardous in anyway. Joy shook her head and extended the bag again. Dawn took one glowing capsule hesitantly and started chewing on it and immediately smiled.

"This is so good!" she let out laughing.

A half an hour later Buffy and Angel were coming downstairs after having cleaned Buffy's room. A strange sound was coming from the living room, like muffled fighting. Buffy and Angel shared a concerned look before carefully advancing towards it. The slayer slid the door open but was not prepared for what she saw. Connor, walking upside down on the ceiling and Dawn floating around the room, while Joy looked at them from the couch. Dawn and Connor were both laughing.

"Dawn!" Buffy yelled at her and the teenager looked at her with an expression that said 'busted'. "What the hell have you been up to?"

"No-nothing. Joy was just telling us this hilarious story about a guy that..."

"Dawn!" Buffy didn't have to say that, that wasn't what she had meant.

"We're just eating magic candy," Dawn tried to assure her sister.

"Connor, get down," Angel told his son on a tone that didn't seem to tolerate a no. Connor rolled his eyes and flipped off the ceiling in a perfect jump landing on his feet.

"Is this your doing?" Buffy looked at Joy. "Look, I said I would help you, but I didn't welcome you in my house so you would feed god knows what to my sister."

"I know and I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you. It's basically harmless. The effects wear off in a few hours," Joy apologized.

"That better be true," Buffy told her, a bit more relieved. "And Dawn, stop floating around."

"Okay, okay," Dawn said standing back down on the carpet and turning her back towards her sister as she did. Buffy was horrified.

"What are those?!" the slayer pointed towards the small white wings coming out of Dawn back.

"Side effect," Joy immediately stood up from the couch to calm down Buffy. "That's what...fades away."

"I leave you alone for one hour and you grow wings," Buffy couldn't believe. "God!" she headed exasperated towards the kitchen, while Angel curiously studied Connor in search of some sort of anomaly. He had none.

"Don't worry it'll pass," Joy assured him, relieved Dawn and Connor hadn't gotten any of the freakier side effects, like splitting in two or growing a second pair of arms or legs. Angel knew she was probably telling the truth, but still felt uneasy. The front door suddenly rang. Angel went to answer it, while Joy, grabbing her mantle headed upstairs, leaving Connor alone in the living room. But she had left something behind. Something insignificant. The empty jelly bag. Connor picked it up and looked it over and something strange occurred to him, the expiration date was about 22 years into the future. He wondered if magic candy lasted that much or it meant something else. That something he had been suspecting for a while now. Folding the bag and putting it in his pocket he went upstairs to see if Cordelia had woken up.

Upstairs in Willow's room, Joy was alone. She had come there to talk to Jacques. The cajun took his time before appearing.

"Hi, Joycie," he smiled when he finally appeared.

"Do you remember the first time we ate quantum jelly?" she asked him looking down at the amulet she was playing with to pass the time.

"How could I forget? Moma brought it all the way from France. Me, you and Liam ate like a tone! You had a tail and claws, I had a twin for a coupla' hours and Liam grew those elf ears and started floatin' around. You were afraid we couldn't bring him down anymore," he smiled. The sweet sincere smile of remembrance.

"Yeah. You think all my memories are in here, somewhere?" she taped on the jewel in the center of the amulet that glowed strangely under her touch.

"Maybe they are. If you want them to be," he said thinking of his own amulet back home in the future. It was about time he started wearing it because soon time would start altering and he didn't want to get caught in the whirlwind of change.

Meanwhile downstairs, Angel found himself face to face with Spike, covered in a blanket, standing on the doorstep of the Summers home. Angel was lucky it was afternoon and the shadows hid him well enough from the sun outside, while the windows inside had been covered carefully by Buffy.

"Are you gonna move today?" the vampire complained.

"I'm still thinking about it. The idea of seeing you burn like a firecracker in sunlight is a tempting second choice," Angel said but after a moment moved letting him enter the house. Spike threw the blanket away letting out a sigh of relief.

"For a moment there I thought I was going to be flambé, mate," he smiled.

"Me too," his grandsire replied.

"Is Buffy around?" Spike asked looking past the other vampire towards the living room.

"Yeah, she's in the kitchen preaching Dawn on the danger of magic," Angel didn't see a good reason to not let him through, but wondered how he was going to keep Spike away from Buffy. He was torn between staying with Buffy and protecting her from the danger Joy had spoken of and his life in LA, with Cordelia and his son.

"What did the nibblet do now?" he asked amused.

"You mean Dawn?" he looked at him oddly. Spike always had a gift for strange names. "She ate magic candy and grew wings."

"Just like her to always get in trouble," he wondered where she had gotten magic candy from. He had a sneaking suspicion it had been from Joy. He was about to head for the kitchen when Angel stopped him.

"Spike..." he didn't know how to tell him about Buffy's grim future with him, without revealing Joy's secret. "You know you and Buffy aren't good together."

"That's a brilliant deduction, Sherlock. Did you need all of your detective skills for that one?" the vampire smirked. "Besides, I do believe you walked out on her and have lost your veto right, mate."

"This isn't right. I left her because I wanted her to have someone normal, not another vampire," Angel pointed out.

"It's her bloody choice, isn't it? She tried the normal bloke for a while, she didn't like it. She went and got herself another vampire. One with less...issues," he pressed on the last word. Angel gave him a cold stare. "Admit it, you're almost a bloody eunuch."

"I wish people would stop saying that," Angel mumbled to himself. "Just think of her, Spike, not you and your raging hormones."

"Fuck off," Spike said annoyed and headed for the kitchen. Sure he was going to leave Buffy, but he didn't need tall, dark and broody to tell him what the right choice was. He wished Joy would've kept the secret to herself. At least he wouldn't have Angel bugging him about it and insulting his feelings for Buffy, which were as real as his.

In the living room, Angel sighed exasperated. This was going to be tough. He had decided during his conversation with Joy, that he wasn't going to stop this relationship through Buffy. He thought it was unfair to use their history together to somehow influence the slayer. It would feel like emotional black mail and he knew he had done enough damage to her love life and interfered one too many times in it. He was going to try and solve this problem through Spike. It was the only way. Looking around the living room, something suddenly occurred to him. Somebody was missing. Where the hell was Wesley?

Willow was sitting cross legged in front of her laptop in the study hall of Sunnydale University, typing away. She was looking for an answer to her questions. If everybody was acting so secretive and refused to tell her what was happening, she wouldn't give up. There were so many other ways of finding out what she wanted to know. She had decided there was already too much magic involved in this mystery without her adding more to it, so she was going to get her answers the old fashioned way. By looking. And what better place to start than the internet. One of the regular sites she visited "Demons, magic, witches etc" was an on-line encyclopedia of all things magic and demon related, a little database a handle full of demon hunters from all around the world had concocted to help each other out. Luckily for her, the site also came with a chatroom and people always eager to help someone out. She logged in with the nickname Sparklin_red, which she occasionally used.

Sparklin_red: Anyone out there?

Demon_hunter256: What do you need?

Sparklin_red: Let's play a game.

Any_broomflyer: I like games :D

Sparklin_red: It's called name that spell.

Expert_tease: Shoot.

Sparklin_red: We have: a candle with black incense, a little inhuman pure blood - a vile, a little wiccan blood and a Sanskrit incantation. It opens a portal to another dimension. A particularly strange uninhabited dimension.

Demon_hunter256: Sounds like you already have your spell right there. Why's the name so important?

Expert_tease: Interdimensional Sanskrit spells...They usually open intermediate portals.

Sparklin_red: Intermediate?

Any_broomflyer: You know the place where you are right before a spell is completed.

Demon_hunter256: The kind of spells that need a lot of concentration and give you the feeling you're not in this world anymore.

Any_broomflyer: Which is true. Cause you transport your astral self into another dimension.

Sparklin_red: How can I tell what kind of spell a person made to transport itself into that dimension?

Expert_tease: It's hard to tell.

Any_broomflyer: How was the dimension like?

Sparklin_red: A piece of land floating around in colors. A very vague figure was there. It talked to me.

Demon_hunter256: Didn't you ask it what it was? Who it was?

Sparklin_red: It wasn't really interested in me. I think it had something else on its mind.

Any_broomflyer: Was it hostile?

Expert_tease: Evil maybe?

Sparklin_red: I don't think so. I think it was a woman. She was looking for someone I know.

Any_broomflyer: You should warn that someone.

Sparklin_red: Problem is she already knew about this...visit. And I don't know her too well. I only met her a couple of days ago.

Expert_tease: So that's the problem. You want to know if this person is a threat?

Demon_hunter256: If she is who she says she is?

Sparklin_red: Yeah. Any suggestions?

Amy_broomflyer: Truth spell?

Sparklin_red: Something tells me she can make a counter-spell.

Expert_tease: I know one that can't be counter-spelled until you find out what you want.

Sparklin_red: Can you send it to me?

Expert_tease: Sure. It'll take a minute.

Sparklin_red: Take your time.

Willow smiled to herself satisfied she had found her answer.

"Something told me I'd found you here," a voice startled her. She turned around to find Wesley standing behind her with his arms crossed over his chest.

"Would you stop with the suspicious glares?" she closed her laptop before he had a chance to see what she was working on. "You said you didn't want to tell me. I respect that."

"I bet," Wesley was more than a little skeptical. He knew Willow could be curious and he also knew she had the skills to find out anything her heart desired if she only put her mind to it. "Is that why you were chatting with the "Demons, magic, witches etc" people? They often used the site in LA too. There weren't all that many demon databases on the internet.

"No, we were just swapping spells," Willow assured him. "It's a witch thing. I give them a localizing spell they give me a beheading spell..."

"Yeah, I think I got it," Wesley didn't believe her and decided he would make it his personal mission to stop what ever she was planning. They stared at each other for a while.

"So you just came here to spy on me?" Willow broke the silence.

"That was the plan," Wesley paced in front of her. "But I guess I overreacted."

"I guess you did," Willow just wanted him gone so she could study the truth spell.

"I should go. Bye," he headed for the exit.

"Bye," Willow said and watched him until he was out of the study hall, then returned to her laptop. A new e-mail had arrived in her inbox from Expert_tease:

Hi,

I attached the document with the spell to this e-mail. It was made by gypsies, who else could make a spell without a counter-spell :) It's in Romanian, but I sent you the English version too. It should work in either language. I have to warn you it can have some unexpected side effects so be careful with it.

Expert_tease

"Perfect," Willow murmured to herself as she downloaded the attachment. She was a bit worried about the side effects, but she thought she could maybe work out the glitches.

Wesley hadn't gone home, but taken a detour to the computer hall of the university. He accessed the "Demon, magic, witches etc" site and looked up in the member's section the names he had spotted before Willow had closed her laptop: Expert_tease and Any_broomflyer. Any_broomflyer was an art student from New York who was also a witch in her spare time. Expert_tease on the other hand had a more interesting profile. He was a peaceful Navrok demon from Dublin, Ireland who was apparently a magic expert. He owned a pub called "Puckoon" and a cat named Pinky. There was even a picture of the massive demon with sharp fangs and blue skin, smiling, wearing a "Demons rock" t-shirt and holding a small pink kitten in one of his large palms. It could have very well been what Willow had told him it had been, but he severely doubted it. He entered the chatroom to see if he could pick up something. He didn't even have to type a word as Expert_tease and a certain Wicked_wiccan were discussing the Sanskrit spell Wesley had performed the other night. The question that remained was: if Willow knew what kind of spell it had been what was she planning to do?

Meanwhile Willow had already gathered the supplies for the spell and retreated in her room in the Summers house, telling everyone not to disturb her because she was studying. Joy politely left the room at her request and went downstairs to rescue Dawn from Buffy. As soon as she was gone, Willow opened her laptop and the document with the truth spell. She sat down cross legged on the floor and spread out the supplies. She made a circle of candles and in the middle of it she drew a symbol with blue powder, it looked celtic to her, but it must have been something else. She lit the candles and then started reading the spell in English:

"May the truth be more than lie and the lie be truth and no more lie," she threw a fist full of powder over the candles. "I ask for the truth and not the lie and may no lies come before the truth I seek and no one kill the truth before it's out and done," she waved her hand over the flames sprinkling down on them a crushed herb. She waited for a few moments, but nothing happened. Had she done something wrong? She went over the spell again on the laptop. Everything was in place. Then what? Maybe the translation wasn't quite accurate so she decided to do the Romanian version, it could work if she knew what it meant.

"Fie ca adevarul sa fie mai mult decat minciuna si minciuna adevar si sa nu mai fie minciuna. Cer adevarul si nu minciuna si fie ca nici o minciuna sa vina inaintea adevarului pe care-l caut si nimeni sa nu ucida adevarul inainte de a se arata," she spoke the words as clear as she could given the unknown language and then waited. The flames of the candles suddenly formed an intact circle of fire and the symbol started to glow, the strands of powder began to rise off the carpet and regroup into a crystal that floated above the floor.

"Asa sa fie!" a voice was heard out of nowhere. The candles burnt out and only the newly formed crystal still glowed in the dark a foot above the floor.

"Now, let's see if it worked," Willow said grabbing the crystal and putting it in a jewelry box in one of her drawers before cleaning up the mess made by the spell, trying to erase any evidence that might point towards magic.

Downstairs, Buffy had just finished her 'magic is dangerous' speech to an exasperated Dawn who just wanted to remind her she'd heard it a million times before and that she'd never do anything stupid with magic as she had seen its effects on Willow in the past.

"Are we clear?" the slayer asked for the last time and Dawn nodded.

"Yeah, already," she just wanted to leave.

"Can I rescue you?" Joy asked coming in. "Maybe you could show me around this Bronze everyone told me about?"

"Can I?" Dawn looked over at Buffy.

"I should ground you for at least half your lifetime, but I'll let this one slide. Go ahead," Buffy told her. "Just be careful."

"We will," Joy assured her before she and Dawn left.

"Kids grow up so fast," Spike noticed.

"Yeah and they turn into rebel angst driven teens," Buffy sighed. "Was I like that at her age?"

"No. You were worse," Spike smirked. "Walking around like you owned the world in those tight little outfits of yours. Made a vampire get nasty thoughts."

"Really? And me thinking I was just your average insecure teen yearning for popularity and scared of rejection," Buffy rolled her eyes.

"Well you'd have to ask the big poofer about that one, I'm more of a late years expert," Spike said smiling.

"I'm sure he'd agree with me. So what brings you here? Business or pleasure?"

"Pleasure?" he gave her a funny look. It had been her choice of words after all.

"My bad," Buffy realized how out of place her words had been. "So no demons or vampires?"

"Nope. I was just bored," he lied.

"Watching TV just isn't as fun as it used to be, huh?" Buffy didn't buy his excuse. It was about now when Willow's spell kicked in. "Did you just feel something?"

"No... I don't think I did," Spike looked around the kitchen.

"Never mind. So what are you really doing here?" the slayer asked still feeling something was suddenly very wrong.

"I just missed you," Spike seemed surprised of his own words. That was definitely not what he was about to say.

"Spike..." Buffy thought they had gotten to the level where they started to lie about any kind of feelings towards each other again. "I thought we talked about this."

"I don't know what got into me. Maybe it's Angel being here and..." he stopped mid- sentence realizing that no matter what he wanted to say instead he'd wind up saying the truth.

"I know it bothers you that he's here. And if it tickles your ego he's just as bothered as you. Like I'm bothered Cordelia is sleeping in my house. Okay, I didn't mean that," Buffy stopped her would-be rant, coming to the realization that something was wrong. "Oh, yes I did."

"Cordelia? The cheerleader?" Spike was surprised. He had noticed she was there but thought she had come along as Angel's employee.

"He didn't have time to tell you the great love story?" Buffy asked exasperated. "I think it wouldn't bother me as much as it does if it wasn't Cordelia."

"Bollocks," Spike smirked. "As long as it has two legs and is preferably female you'll be bothered. And Angel's the same. Bla, bla she shouldn't be dating another vampire. Yadda, yadda, yadda. You're dancing on the oldest tune in the world, luv. You expect him to be *your* knight in shinning armor forever. We're not in the Dark Ages anymore, Buffy. Deal with it."

"Gee, thanks for the pep talk," Buffy stared at him.

"I'm not saying I'm different from the rest of the lot. Hell, I'd probably go crazy if I saw you with someone else. If I weren't already crazy that is," he smiled.

"I guess that makes me less safe," she leaned on the table. "I'd hate to see the poor sap who'll have to deal with *two* maniacal exes."

"I'd hate to see him too," he suddenly got an idea. "If you had to choose between me and Angel, who would you choose?"

"Oh, god, you guys are never going to grow up no matter how many centuries you live, are you?" Buffy rolled her eyes.

"Do you at least love me?" he touched her hand on the table.

"Spike...of course I love you," she slapped her hands over her mouth the moment the words had slipped out. Spike stared at her in disbelief with a smile on his face. Willow walked in, in a hurry.

"Hey, guys, have you seen Joy?" the witch asked and then stopped to look at the both of them and realized she might have interrupted something. "Is this a bad time?"

"No!" Buffy said wanting a way out of the conversation, but at the same time Spike said:

"Yes!"

"So have you seen Joy?" the witch asked again.

"She went to the Bronze with Dawn," Buffy told her knowing there was no escaping the aftermath of her words. She had never really defined her feelings for Spike. At some point it had been hate, annoyance, then the strange sense of care she had developed for him, then the lust... the bad lust, but in the end she supposed she winded up being connected to him on one too many levels and there was love. The sort of love she had never known before. And maybe she never wanted to. Because it wasn't comforting and it could be dark and evil and disgusting and heart breaking at the same time. And now that he had a soul, that strange love had grown a tender side she was afraid of falling into.

"Oh, I'll just wait till she comes back then," Willow said and exited the kitchen.

"You do love me," Spike smiled again.

"Maybe I did at some point. But that's all in the past now. And I really don't feel like dissecting the corpse of another relationship right now," she said and headed out of the kitchen.

"You love me!" Spike yelled after her still in disbelief, laughing. Not looking back at him, Buffy gave him the finger.

"So now you love him?" Buffy run straight into Angel in the living room.

"Were you eavesdropping?" she looked at him incredulously.

"Yes," Angel surprised himself with the answer. He hadn't really intended to tell her the truth so bluntly. "It's what I hear jealous exes do."

"Do you think he's right? That no matter how much we talk about it, we'll never be able to get over dating others?" she sat down on the couch.

"I think it's safe to say, we're lost cases," he sat down next to her.

"I was afraid of that," she smiled.

"So do you really love him?" he looked at her and she couldn't help but chuckle.

"In a rather sick, crazy way, I guess I do."

"Just like Spike. Sick and crazy," he smiled.

"A little more crazy than usual lately," she leaned her head on his shoulder. "How about you? Do you love her?"

"I do. But not like I love you. I don't know how to explain it. She's just very special to me," he put his arms around her shoulders.

"Can't we go back to when we only used to love each other?" she asked smiling.

"Sometimes, I wish we could," he hugged her to his chest.

The back door of the Summers house closed behind Spike as he left. He didn't need anything more than that. He didn't want to listen to what Angel and Buffy were talking about. He had gotten all he had wanted: an I love you, whether she had meant it or not, he didn't care. Now he could leave Sunnydale in peace.

At the Bronze, Joy and Dawn were sitting at a table next to the ring, talking.

"How are the kids at your school?" Dawn asked her as she took a sip from her juice.

"Uptight would be one word to describe them. Not particularly likeable. I just go there because of my mom. I'd be only going to the magic school if it were up to me," she said wishing her juice had a shot of bourbon in it. Another bad habit she had inherited from her father. "Now those are some crazy kids you can really have fun with."

"Magic school? Cool!" Dawn couldn't believe it. "Buffy freaks out every time I even touch a spell book. Your mom must be really great."

"She didn't really have much of a choice," she smiled.

"I can imagine what mom would've said," Dawn stared into her drink.

"I'm sorry about her. I heard she was a wonderful woman," she had always wanted to meet her grandmother.

"She was," Dawn sighed. "So are at least the guys cute in your school?"

"I guess, but I only had eyes for one guy," she leaned her head in one hand.

"Uh, first love?" Dawn wiggled her eyes brows.

"Only love. He was actually a few months younger than me, but...he seemed ages older. His parents died when he was very young so he winded up living with us."

"What was his name?" Dawn asked.

"Liam Chase," Joy contemplated the dance floor and remembered when she used to go dancing with Liam, Jacques and the gang from the magic school. The things they could do, the fun they would have...

"Funny, that's Cordy's last name too. Maybe they were like related or something," Dawn noticed.

"Maybe," she smiled thinking Dawn had no idea how right she was.

"Where is he now? Waiting for you back home?" she asked wondering when her first love would walk into her life.

"He's been dead for a year now," her smile was nostalgic.

"I'm sorry. Can I asked what happened?" Dawn knew she had touched a nerve.

"You could say he committed a very heroic suicide," it was as fresh in her memory as the day that had just passed. Liam had stopped fighting the past and the sadness all of a sudden and had given into it all. He had left her that night and gone straight towards the largest nest of gholas he could find. He had fought bravely, but there were too many, so he died a good death, she supposed. The next day his corpse was laying on their front step. They never did find out who brought him there, but Joy thanked the stars someone did. "He was killed by demons."

"Oh," there was a moment of silence between them. "Are you something like a slayer? Connor said you're some fighter. And something tells me he doesn't give out a compliment like that everyday."

"He said that?" Joy was surprised.

"Yeah, we were waiting in line at the bathroom last night. We had another heart to heart. Okay, so I think he's using me as a Sunnydale Angel-before-LA dictionary," Dawn chuckled. "He was particularly curious about you."

"Like everyone else, I guess," Joy took another sip of her drink.

"He said he never saw a human fight as good as you, so since you *are* human I thought, maybe slayer?" Dawn suggested.

"No, no, I'm not a slayer," she assured her .

"Then what's your secret?" Dawn leaned in to hear her answer.

"I'm half...wow," she stopped herself from continuing. She realized what she had been close to saying: that she was half-vampire. Something was terribly wrong. No matter how loose and good she felt around a person she didn't leave her guard down. Especially when it came to her origin. She suspected Willow was after answers and she had only found the hard way to get them. Through magic. There's already too much magic in this whole thing, Joy thought to herself.

"Is something wrong?" Dawn looked behind herself, where Joy had been staring blankly.

"Yes, I thought I..." she couldn't lie. A truth spell. Oh, Willow was barking up the wrong tree. She could counter-spell any truth spell she'd throw at her. "You could say my mom and dad were two very special people and they insisted I train in order to protect myself."

"Buffy finally decided I should train a little too. It took her a while to figure it out though," Dawn chuckled, ignoring Joy's previous hesitation.

"So you think we can sneak ourselves a real drink?" Joy asked eyeing the bar.

"Now see that's the second Buffy rule you'd be breaking today. Getting the little sister drunk. Very bad thing," Dawn faked a serious face. "That could get you thrown out of the house. And believe me you don't want to go to a Sunnydale motel unless you really want to die a horrible death."

"I'll take your word for it," Joy smiled.

"Besides I'd get grounded for the rest of my natural life," Dawn smirked.

"I guess no bourbon for the lady with the white hair," Joy pouted. "Unless I could convince one of the college studs in this place to buy me a drink."

"Oh, I don't think you'll need a college stud," Spike had reached their table.

"Da... Spike, isn't a little early for you?" Joy could swear it was still daylight outside.

"Sun just set, luv, this is as good as it gets," he wanted to talk to her in private for a moment. "What's your poison?"

"Bourbon, make it a double," Joy had the feeling she was going to need it when she was going to face Willow that night.

"Got your father's taste," Spike noticed smiling.

"I guess I do. Dawn? Want anything?" she glanced over at the teenager.

"I..." she was about to say something, but Spike caught her off.

"In your dreams, nibblet," he headed for the bar.

"He knew your father?" Dawn was surprised.

"He definitely does. You could say they're...identical," Joy twisted the words in such a way that she'd be telling the truth, but hiding it at the same time. Spike returned with Joy's drink and one for himself. He and Joy drank them in the same way: in one clean shot, while Dawn watched them curiously.

"Forgot how good it tasted," Joy said smiling. A slow song started playing in the background.

"Let's dance," Spike thought it was the perfect opportunity to talk to her without Dawn listening in. Joy, realizing he wanted to speak to her, accepted.

"What's wrong?" Joy asked once they were on the dance floor.

"I talked to your mother."

"And what did she say?" she wondered where he wanted to get to.

"She said she loves me," he smiled and hugged her happily.

"I already knew that," Joy returned the smile. "However, this doesn't really help me. She just said it like that?"

"Something weird happened. She couldn't lie anymore. Apparently not even to herself," he chuckled.

"Oh," Joy shook her head. "I think Willow made a truth spell and it affected everyone in the house. Don't worry I'll break it as soon as I get there."

"Then I'll have to thank Willow cause this is one of the best things that's ever happened to me," he said. "And you, luv, would be the best, if it ever happened."

"I was the best, dad," she hugged him back. Dawn sitting at the table wondered what was going on? Did Spike know Joy? Cause it certainly looked like it.

Joy and Dawn entered the Summers house trying to be as quiet as possible. It had gotten pretty late and Buffy had started wondering what they had been doing out so long and what had happened to that night's hunting expedition. Angel had refused to comment on it and he seemed to be hiding something. Wesley and Willow had stared at each other in silence all the way through dinner, Cordelia and Connor had disappeared at some point before dinner to wonder the streets of Sunnydale in search of Cordy's memories, Xander had been talking nonsense all the time he had been at the house, while Anya had been feeling "funny" as she had put it all through the night. The ex-demon had thought it had something to do with a spell as she was almost allergic to some kind of magic and she had eyed Willow suspiciously, but the witch had played innocent and did not admit her accusation to be true. Buffy was beginning to suspect something was wrong and she was completely blind to what was happening. And of course someone had made some kind of spell. Probably a truth spell as she had realized she could not lie. But why would anyone need it? A lot of people could have done it, Willow, Wesley, Anya - though she doubted it was her as she had been complaining about the 'funny' feeling all night to everyone's exasperation -, Joy, even Xander, Dawn or Angel or maybe even Connor. Of course the most likely suspect was Willow. But again, why? As she pondered this, Angel sneaked up behind her.

"Boo," he said gently.

"Knew you were there," she didn't even turn her head, she just looked down in the cup of hot cocoa she was holding in both her hands while sitting at the table in the kitchen.

"Liar," Angel teased her.

"Something tells me no one's a liar in this house tonight," Buffy tilted her head slightly.

"You've noticed too?" Angel sat down at the table across from her.

"Yeah, kinda hard not to. Makes you realize how many lies you want to say in one day," she smiled slightly. "So...how about I ask you 5 questions and you have to answer them? I know you won't lie. And then I'll answer 5 questions you ask me."

"Fair enough," he smiled. "You start then."

"Do you ever regret leaving me?" she asked first.

"Sometimes," he pondered it for another moment. "Every time I see you. It's easier when you're not there."

"You could say I simply disappear?" she rose an eyebrow.

"It's like I have two lives. Our live together - my life with you, when you were the center of my universe and then there's the other life, the life I made for myself in LA. And I can't say I don't like it. I happen to love it. A lot. It has its bad things and its good things..."

"Like everything does," she looked down into the brown cocoa and realized it reminded her of Angel's eyes. "How bad do the bad things get?"

"As apocalyptic as they usually come here. Except we have evil lawyers from hell. Literally," he made her chuckle. "And being a 250 year old vampire doesn't help either. In that many years you're bound to have made yourself a lot of enemies, especially if you eviscerated most of their living relatives."

"Why didn't you ever ask for my help?" she asked, it was already her 4th question.

"I always felt like I was your protector and not the other way around. Come to think of it I could've used your help more than a couple of times."

"You never asked," she pointed out.

"We managed," he shrugged it off.

"Last question: if you had to choose between staying here with me and going back to LA with Cordy - with her memories and all, what would you choose?" He was silent for a few moments.

"You're asking me to choose between the past and the future," he looked her in the eyes. "If you had a choice between me staying here with you and me going back to LA, what would you choose?" she didn't answer and looked away. "See what I mean? I can't make this choice anymore then you can." Her questions were over and he had 4 left. "What would you choose, between a life here and a life in LA?" She smiled.

"Anywhere but here is good, but I guess a fight's a fight, no matter where it's fought," she sighed.

"You're tired?" he asked looking confused.

"I've been tired for 8 years. I never asked for this and now, it just doesn't end. Not even when I die," she rubbed her neck.

"Do you think you could ever leave it?" he asked leaning his head on his arms.

"I don't know. Maybe if there was something like an army of slayers," she chuckled at her own comment. "But that's not about to happen unless I die another 9998 times."

"If I asked you to come with me would you?" she was taken by surprise.

"I... I don't think I should answer that. It's an unfair question," she said and Angel looked down at her cup.

"You should drink that before it gets cold," he pointed towards the cup. She smiled and took a sip from it.

"So who do you think did this?" she changed the subject to a more lighter tone.

"Willow," he simply said.

"Why does everyone suspect her? I don't think it's fair to blame her every time a spell shows its ugly face," Buffy defended her, but then added: "Even if most times it's true."

"Fine, then let's take everyone else. We're out of the question. Cordy too, she doesn't even remember her name I doubt she'd start making spells. And Connor. He hates magic. Then there's Wesley...I see him doing this."

"Yeah, I noticed he's changed a lot. Never thought I'd say this, but he even looks a little dangerous," she smiled. "Let's see...Spike wouldn't do it, he's not really into magic. Anya could, but she probably didn't, she said she's allergic to whatever kind of spell was made. Xander...definitely not. Dawn...she could, but I don't really think she'd have a reason for it. And of course Willow," she paused for a moment. "Wait. What about Joy?"

"Could be," Angel said. Now that he thought of it, it seemed like a logical choice.

Meanwhile, Joy sneaked inside Dawn's room, which she shared with Cordy during her stay at the Summers home, after saying goodnight to Dawn. She was surprised to find that Cordelia was missing and Willow was there instead.

"Something told me this was coming," Joy admitted.

"Something or someone?" Willow stood up defiantly.

"Do you really think a little truth spell is going to affect me?" she asked shaking her head. "You should know me better."

"That's the whole point, I don't," Willow crossed her arms over her chest. "I dare you. Break the spell."

"I will. You taught me well enough," she said more to herself and rising her hands in the air she let out a few words in Latin that were followed by a brief flash of light. She paused for a moment then said: "I like burgers and hot sauce with a little blood on top. Well, that wasn't right." She turned to Willow. "Why didn't it work? That spell's suppose to break any truth spell you'd throw at me."

"Not one made by gypsies," Willow smiled.

"Touche," Joy was surprised. She pondered taking Willow on as she wasn't as powerful as she knew her to be in the future, but something told her she was a lot more dangerous and uncontrollable now. As Willow herself had once told her, a powerful enemy is not as dangerous as one whose not in control of his own abilities. And she wasn't really keen on starting a scandal when she was close to achieving what she had come to do. What then, tell her the truth? She eyed the witch for a moment. Not like she could tell a lie. She wondered what the truth spell was conditioned to. The truth Willow needed from her? Well there was more than one way to tell the truth. "What do you want from me?" she eventually asked a smile creeping up her lips at the idea she had just gotten.

"Why did you really come here?" Willow asked ready to act if Joy proved to be more hostile than she had imagined.

"To help my family," she simply said.

"And your family doesn't happen to be a herd of big nasty demons?"

"No. I'm here to help my parents. They're dead or well, my dad died a long time ago but he won't die for a few more years and my mom died more then twenty years ago which would be two years ago or six if you were to take the first time or the last time from here, not there and a lot more years from now, except she wasn't really dead then until she died for good. Got it?" Technically she had explained it and meanwhile told the truth, but Willow gave her a confusing look like anyone sane would have. Joy had basically listed her parents' deaths, from Spike's turning to his death in the future, from the time Buffy had drowned for a minute, when she had been resurrected by her friends, turned by Spike in the future and her last death, when Willow had killed her.

"What?" the witch asked.

"I don't like to explain myself twice," she smiled, but Willow saw it more as a satisfied grin.

"You didn't make any sense at all," she pointed out.

"Oh, I think I made all the sense in the world. And I didn't lie."

"So are your parents dead or not?" Willow asked in an attempt to clear the matter, but Joy wasn't really looking to cooperate.

"Yes, you could say that," Joy nodded.

"You could say that?!" she was beginning to loose her patience and for Willow that was never a good thing. "What were they, turned by vampires?"

"At some point, but they got over it," Joy said and it was all it took Willow to snap and throw Joy across the room in a wall and to levitate a blade to her neck.

"Let's see if you'll be so funny now," Willow said with her eyes black. Wesley took this moment to enter the room and was shocked at what he saw.

"Wes," Joy only managed to say as the blade was dangerously close to her neck.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Wesley asked outraged. Willow seemed to come to herself a bit and let the blade fall at Joy's feet before letting the girl off the wall.

"Sorry, I lost myself for a moment there," she hated when she had this kind of outburst, residue from her 'gone bad' days.

"Joy, get out," Wesley told her in a commanding voice and the girl scattered off. "What's wrong with you?" he asked the witch when they were alone in the room. "You just put a blade to an innocent girl's neck."

"I doubt she's that innocent," Willow smirked, then added: "I did overdo it."

"This truth spell was enough overdoing as it is."

"You really think so?" the witch picked up the blade from the floor and placed it back on Dawn's desk.

"I couldn't really lie, could I?" Wesley reminded her.

"Oh, right," Willow sat down on the bed. "I really don't like it when people keep secrets from me. Especially something that might turn out bad. She's obviously not who she says she is. That's enough of an excuse to try and force her hand."

"Don't you mean her vital signs?" Wesley crossed his arms over his chest. "I realize all this magic hasn't been good for you and that now you can't separate yourself from it, but you have to try and keep it under control or you'll wind up doing something you might later regret."

"I already did and there's nothing I wouldn't do to take it back, but the only thing you can't take back is time. That much I learnt," she told him and Wesley thought that she was right, that time did not excuse anyone or anything and even if Joy changed the line, it would eventually lead back into the same old maze no human could escape. But Joy herself had made her own maze and something told him she had found a way out of it and into a new web of inexplicable things only time could understand.

"But you keep on wishing you could," everyone had regrets, even Wesley. He sat down on the bed next to her.

"Yeah," they both stared into nothingness for a moment. "So why is she here?"

"Buffy's gonna die," he simply said.

"Again?" her curiosity had seemed to suddenly stop.

"Yeah. That's why Joy's here. She's doing everything she can to stop it from happening. And I'm afraid we can't really help her. You could say she was destined to save her," he smiled at the irony of his words.

"Funny, she kept mentioning her parents," Willow said distracted. "I guess her counter-spell did work after all. Never trust gypsy spells, they're bound to have a fluke or two."

While they sat there, both somehow lost in their own contemplation of the past, each one far away from one another, even if they were only a palm away from each other on the bed, the crystal in Willow's drawer began cracking and turning back to dust.

Meanwhile Joy had reached the kitchen, only to be confronted by Buffy and Angel.

"Is this truth spell your doing?" Buffy asked.

"No. Willow made it," she told them the truth.

"Why would she?" the slayer couldn't have guessed, though Angel suspected the reason behind it. It was pretty clear Joy never intended to tell Willow the real motive of her sudden appearance in Sunnydale.

"Why don't you ask her?" Joy suggested.

"Maybe I will," Buffy said and headed upstairs.

"Did you tell her?" Angel asked her when the slayer had disappeared.

"Not really," Joy said. "Nothing that could make her understand anything. Wes must've told her something, otherwise I think they'd be thrashing Dawn's room by now."

"He didn't..."

"No. Wesley knows better," Joy smiled. "So how are things with Buffy?"

"Good," he said and Joy instantly realized he was lying which meant Willow's spell had been broken. Great, she thought to herself, now that she could have actually used it, it was broken. She wondered what else could go wrong.

"Is something wrong?" she asked.

"No, everything's fine," and again it was a lie.

"Is Xander home?" she felt the need to talk to Spike.

"I think so. Why?" Angel was curious.

"Nothing, he just said he was going to help me built...this...thing," she said and headed out leaving a confused Angel behind.

Upstairs, Buffy was talking to Willow. Wesley had gone downstairs to sleep, leaving the two alone to talk.

"Joy said you made the truth spell," Buffy told her.

"I did," Willow admitted.

"Why?" she asked and the witch realized she couldn't tell her the truth. If Buffy knew she was going to die again she would probably not take it well. Her horrible previous experiences were living proof of that. And she did not want to put her through that again. She just hoped that Joy could change this turn of events if she was the only one that could.

"I-I...Dawn! I thought Dawn started stealing again and I wanted to find out if-if it was true. She's not. I-I talked to her and she said she didn't and I found the earrings under my bed," Willow lied.

"Will, you're really not a good liar. Besides, you wanted to talk to Joy," Buffy reminded her.

"No, I didn't," she tried to lie, but the slayer gave her a look that made her understand she thought she was lying again. "Okay, yes I did, but only because she slept in my room the other night and I thought maybe she saw the earrings. Tara gave them to me."

"Oh," this lie was convincing enough for her. "Just warn us next time, okay?"

"I'll do that," the witch sighed relieved while the slayer, satisfied with the answer, left.

Connor and Cordelia walked on the streets of Sunnydale, hoping to come across anything that could spark a memory inside Cordy. So far they had no luck whatsoever. The night was silent, if you ignored the few vampires occasionally appearing out of nowhere thinking the two made an easy snack. They couldn't have been more wrong as Connor actually enjoyed a little fight now and then. He found it liberating. Cordelia had killed a vampire or two herself, but out of pure frustration as she was beginning to be exasperated by her situation. Everyone here expected her to suddenly remember something they just mentioned or something they just showed her. But it wasn't that easy. It was nothing like that actually. Everything was strange and new to her and every minute she seemed to find out something horrible and unknown to her, something she had at some point known in her life. Even the names seemed to ring strangely in her ears. Even her own.

As they reached a hill overlooking the city, Cordelia sighed. Something told her she had seen this view before, yet it wasn't familiar. It was just a logical assumption. If she had lived 18 years of her life in this city she had probably at some point come here. Looking over at the lights shining across the city, something caught her attention. A big building that seemed to stand out between the others. Something seemed to call out to her from there. Something she knew, but couldn't recall.

"What do you think is there?" she pointed towards the building.

"I don't know. It's pretty big," Connor looked at it, but he didn't really have much experience with buildings to tell what it was.

"I know," it suddenly came to her. "Sunnydale High."

"You remembered!" Connor realized. "You want to go there?"

"Not now. Something tells me it's not safe to go there at night," Cordy said. "We'll go there tomorrow. In the morning."

"Okay," Connor agreed and wondered if she remembered everything would she still spend as much time with him as she did now? Or would she go back to Angel? He admitted to himself he wouldn't be able to stand to see her together with his father.

At Xander's apartment Joy was banging on the door. She hadn't gotten an answer for more than ten minutes and she was getting seriously annoyed. Eventually the door opened.

"What the bloody hell were you doing? Sleeping in the freaking bathtub?" Joy let out furious before noticing it had been Xander who had opened the door, not Spike.

"You're right about the sleeping part," he let out sleepily. "What are you doing here at this hour?"

"I wanted to speak to Spike," she said entering the apartment.

"Obviously," he rubbed his eyes, tired. He had had a hard day at work and someone screaming at him in the middle of the night didn't make it any better. "Have I mentioned you remind me of someone when you're angry? If I wasn't half-asleep right now I'd probably remember." HerhHHr

"He's not here?" Joy asked looking around.

"Nope. He was here when I got home, then I think at some point he either freaked out, started talking to himself and left in a hurry or started dancing around in a tutu, but I think it was the first."

"And you didn't go after him?" Joy asked angrily.

"Well, besides the fact I'm, as you can see, *sleeping*, I happen to not be Spike's guardian and don't quite care what he does at night," Xander told her and Joy left like a storm. She headed straight for the cemetery and Spike's old crypt. It was empty and destroyed.

"Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!!!!" she yelled, but it was hopeless, he wasn't there. Where was he then? Had he left? No, he would have told her. He started talking to himself, she remembered Xander's words. "Oh, no," she let out. That could only mean one thing.

The sun rose over the horizon, red like blood, announcing another warm day, another passing page in people's lives, but the decisive one for one particular person. Joy ran through the streets of Sunnydale, hoping she wouldn't be too late. Hoping, that everything she had worked so hard to achieve wouldn't become dust in the blink of an eye. In all the commotion she had stirred and all the people she had had to face in the last couple of days she had forgotten one important detail, that now threatened the completion of her plan. Her father had obviously been willing to leave at her request, but what if now his will was no longer his own? She did not have the strength to break the chain a great power had tied around his neck.

She felt too tired to fight such a battle and too weak against such a menace. She knew how it was destroyed, knew what was coming, but she could not stand against this storm, because it was meant to clash with her mother, not her. Joy had other hurricanes standing in front of her. One that would most likely swallow her whole along with everything she had known in her lifetime.

Sunnydale High appeared in front of her: big, friendly in appearance, but dark and disturbing underneath the surface. She could feel the evil pulsating in its halls, underground, like thousands of unheard wolves howling and pulling at a wounded prey. She hesitated entering at first, afraid that some unspeakable evil could possess her. She took a deep breath and walked inside. The corridors were empty. It would be another two hours until the busy faculty and students would roam like ants inside it, unaware of the evil lurking right under their feet.

She felt rather intimidated by the emptiness of the place, but went on. She had to find her father. She knew how vulnerable he had become after getting his soul and how he had been maneuvered and brainwashed by the prime evil. He always said that if her mother had been there from the beginning, he would have never gone insane. He had been alone and just the thought that Buffy hated him and what he had done to her had driven him insane.

She came to a halt in front of the door leading to the basement. She fidgeted for a moment before she opened it and went down the stairs, in the darkness. She walked for a while not finding anything. Then suddenly she heard a low voice whispering in the dark.

"I thought I'd find you here," Joy said nearing the figure crouched in a corner, hugging itself and still rambling on. Spike was there, just like she had suspected and he wasn't sane anymore. He didn't seem to even notice her presence. "Dad?" he didn't answer, he just lowered his head and continued to talk to himself. "Dad, get up. Get up!"

Spike looked up at her and his eyes shined wildly.

"Girl with white hair. Like silver - white. Shining, shining, in the dark. Girl with the dark spark. Her eyes. Just like hers - emerald green," he startled mumbling. Then suddenly he stood up and neared her. Joy took a step back, fearful, not knowing what to expect of him in this state, but he moved incredibly fast and grabbed her by the shoulders. "You think I don't see it?!" he yelled. "The dark spark. There, inside you!" he tapped on her chest with one hand while still grasping her with the other.

"What are you talking about?" Joy tried to pull away from him. "There's no dark spark. No spark at all." He laughed, dryly and pushed her into the nearest wall. She crumbled to the floor from the power of the push.

"No spark?! No spark?! What are you? Blind?!" he stared at her coldly. "I had the spark, a long time ago, I had the good spark. They put it back, you know, put it back in here," he reached for his own chest. "But it got filthy. Filthy from the dark. Filthy from all the blood. And then I put the filthy spark in you, didn't I? Didn't I?!" he yelled looking down at her.

"Dad, this isn't you," Joy said slowly standing up and limping towards him.

"Isn't it?" he leaned his forehead against hers. "Why'd you let me put the dark spark in you?"

"I don't care about the spark. It might be dark, but if its yours I'll have it any day over the good one," she said and wanted to hug him, but Spike pulled away abruptly.

"You don't know what you're saying," he said hugging himself like it suddenly got cold.

"*I* don't know what I'm saying?" Joy laughed. "Listen to yourself and stop acting like you feel sorry for everything that's ever happened to you."

"But I do feel sorry," his eyes drifted nervously towards the darkness.

"Sorry for what? For not living a mediocre life in a time when no one would have ever appreciated you? A small, unimportant, lonely life? You were never meant for that world, not then, not now. So you killed, you tortured and you loved it all the way, but that was in another lifetime, one that stopped the moment you got that soul back. The spark isn't filthy, you just make it seem that way to yourself. If you look beyond all those regrets and all those tears and all that sorrow you'll see it's still the same," she smiled. "Maybe a little worn out by time, but it's still the good spark you had a long long time ago."

Spike was silent. It broke her heart to see him in this state, but she could do nothing to help him, just hope that her words would sink him and he'd realize his existence wasn't as horrible as he thought it to be. He stared in the darkness again and this time Joy followed his gaze.

"This isn't about the soul, is it?" she suddenly realized where they were. "That's not what's driving you insane. Oh, god, I should've remembered this earlier."

"It came with the spark. They all did. Screaming," he continued to stare into the darkness. "Always screaming. Taunting."

"Where are you? Show yourself!" Joy yelled, but she got no answer. "What is it saying, dad?" he didn't say anything. "Answer me!"

"She says you think you can save them, but you can't. You never will. They'll die no matter what you do. You're just lying to yourself," Spike repeated the words the demon, in Drusilla's form, had just spoken.

"Ask her if she wants to know the future," Joy smiled knowingly. "Well?"

"She didn't say anything," Spike said looking back at Joy. "Can you see her too?"

"No, I can't. She's in your head, not mine," Joy approached him and took his hand. "You have to leave this place. It's making you sick." She guided him towards the staircase that lead to the Sunnydale High corridors above them. Before they could reach the stairs, Spike pulled away.

"I can't," Spike looked up at the open door of the basement.

"You have to leave this place, this city, for your own good. For her own good," she reminded him.

"I know. I just..." the problem was Joy couldn't see Buffy standing right in front of the vampire with a concerned look on her face.

"Please don't leave me," the slayer pleaded with him. "I'll die without you."

"Wherever she is, whoever she is, she isn't real, but that girl who lives a few streets away from here is real and she's been through hell all her life and she's going to go through even more in the next few years. She's the one you love and you're suppose to help. She's the real Buffy," and with this said she headed up the stairs. She stopped halfway up and turned towards him. "Are you coming?"

"It's morning," he said looking up at the sunny corridors of the highschool.

"I guess it is," she looked up for a moment then back down at him and he seemed to be sinking deeper and deeper into the darkness, but she could not help him out of it.

"William, please," the ghost persisted. Spike looked into its eyes and smiled. Those were not her eyes, not the emerald eyes, but endless pits of darkness. He passed right through her and headed up the stairs taking his daughter's hand. Behind him he could hear the demon screaming at him to return, but he didn't turn to look back and the demon and its many voices disappeared urn, but he didn't...

"Have I mentioned how lucky I am to have a daughter like you?"

Meanwhile at the Summers home Angel was making breakfast for Buffy.

"You know, I could really get used to this," the slayer said leaning her head on her arms. She had barely slept the previous night. For some reason she had been restless even in her 4 hours of sleep. She couldn't understand why as she usually slept well in Angel's presence. Maybe it was that strange feeling that something was being hidden from her. She at least assumed they were keeping things from her for a good reason. She just wondered what.

"Who couldn't?" the vampire smiled. This was a whole new side of him Buffy had never seen. He was happier, he joked more and he had stopped being uptight and broody about everything. She hated to admit it but LA had done him a world of good. And she thought she could get used not only to the food, but this whole new Angel as well. Wesley took this moment to enter the kitchen.

"Have you seen Joy?" he asked them and Buffy shook her head.

"I think she might be with Xander," Angel said. "She stormed out after she asked me if he was home."

"She's not there," Xander said entering the kitchen, having heard the conversation. "She came huffing and puffing and banging on my door in the middle of the night. She was looking for Spike."

"Spike?" Buffy thought that was strange.

"Yup," Xander sat down at the table next to the slayer. "She got all worked up about him not being there too."

"Where was he?" Buffy wanted to know.

"I don't know. I don't really keep track of all his outings. He didn't come back all night," he said lifting his shoulders. "Vampires will be vampires."

"Why didn't you call?" the slayer was beginning to get angry.

"Hey, this isn't the first time he does this, you know. I asked him once or twice where he was going, he just gave me a funny look and a 'none of your bloody business' and left anyway," Xander defended himself.

"You should've told me," Buffy crossed her arms over her chest.

"Well, excuse me, I didn't think that taking in a stray vampire implied a 24 hour babysitting job," Xander was enraged that she held him responsible for Spike's disappearance.

Before Buffy had a chance to say anything else, Joy strolled in holding her mantle over her right arm and yawning.

"And where have you been?" the slayer turned towards her.

"Don't have a cow, mom, I...," Joy blinked and pulled herself together realizing what she had just said. Luckily it had sounded more like a complaint at the slayer's address. "I just thought that since you and Angel seemed to have a lot of history to catch up with, I could ask Spike to held me hunt down my...brother," she realized Buffy was one of the few people who still bought that story.

"Oh," Buffy let out. "Did you find Spike?"

"Yeah, he-he was out for a glass of blood," Joy said. "I'm gonna go crash cause I'm seriously sleepy."

"Take the couch. I think Connor's sleeping in your place again," Angel told her and Joy let out a 'great' before retiring on the couch with her boots on and everything. She didn't even bother to take off her ruby glasses.

"That is one tired teenager," Xander said looking at the already sleeping Joy.

"Didn't even have time to ask her if she found her brother," Buffy realized. "I'll ask her when she wakes up. Hopefully sometime during the next two days."

"I think she did," Angel said thoughtful.

"You think?" Wesley asked.

"Either that or she had to kill him. She cried and I really don't think she'd cry with Spike just for the fun of it," Angel had noticed and wondered what had really happened.

"Really?" Xander looked back at Joy. "You can just tell she was crying?"

"Yeah...tears smell like salt," Angel explained.

"You are going to work today, right?" Xander changed the subject.

"Yup, but I need to fill up on coffee first," Buffy said rising her extra large cup in a salute.

"Where's Dawnie?" Xander asked looking around the kitchen.

"You're a little early. She's still getting ready," Buffy said. "Oh, there she is," she noticed the teenager entering the kitchen.

"Wow, you're going to work," Dawn said it as if it was some sort of miracle. Buffy gave her an annoyed look and Dawn smiled. "You are officially becoming my favorite vampire in the world!" she stated when she noticed the delicious looking food Angel had cooked.

"I thought I already was," Angel smiled.

"Well, Spike came very close to stealing your trophy a few years ago," Dawn told him.

"She had a crush on him," Buffy whispered to Angel.

"I heard that," Dawn looked exasperated over at Buffy. "At least I got over it."

"Hey," the slayer gave Dawn a cross look. "So what are you going to do all day by yourself?" she turned her attention towards Angel.

"Take advantage of that free double bed upstairs," Angel said smiling. "I think I'm getting soft, but I miss my bed."

"Well our floor isn't really four star hotel material," Dawn said.

Xander took Dawn and Buffy to the Sunnydale Highschool and then went to work. A little bit later Willow woke up too and went to the UC Sunnydale having some classes that day. Angel did what he had intended to do and went to rest in Buffy's room, where, surrounded by her scent, he fell asleep almost instantly. Wesley was still in the kitchen when he heard Joy ask from the couch:

"Are they gone?"

"Yes," he paused. "I thought you were sleeping."

"It takes more than just an unslept night to tire me out," she stood up and leaving her mantle still spread on the couch, headed for the kitchen.

"Wanted to avoid all the questions?" Wesley understood her.

"Yeah, you kind of get sick of lying at some point," she sat down at the table.

"You have a remarkable regenerative power," Wesley said astonished that she didn't look tired at all.

"It runs in the family," she smiled. "Plus a glass of blood now and then keeps me fresh."

"You're kidding," he had stopped in his tracks.

"Yes, I am," she continued to smile, but in fact she hadn't been joking. Fresh blood helped her keep up her strength from time to time. Her mother had never known about this habit of hers and her father had never encouraged it either, but it was part of her heritage whether they liked it or not.

"I wanted to ask you a few things about the time traveling spell if you don't mind. I find it rather fascinating," Wesley said taking a seat opposite Joy.

"It's not really a time traveling spell," she explained. "It's a spell that gives you the opportunity to access the life span of a living individual."

"But if that's true what will happen now that the Buffy of your time is dead? Wouldn't that immediately expel you back into your own time?" he asked confused.

"Yes, that would be the case, if I had done the spell through her, which I didn't. I made it through Willow," she smirked. "And I guess I was right to do it. The spell also asked for the consent of the person through which you access time. And you know my mother wasn't about to give me that. Willow didn't approve of what I wanted to do, but she knew she couldn't stop me so she gave me the consent I needed."

"You got lucky. What if Willow had died instead of Buffy?"

"Then I wouldn't be here anymore, now would I? I guess destiny got a final pick. You never really can beat that bitch, can you?"

"If there really is such a thing, I doubt you could beat it," Wesley smiled and after a pause asked: "Why was there no acid in the crater?"

"There was an energy shield around me. Time travel takes a while. Well, at least for the one doing it. And if you weren't protected you'd asphyxiate from its speed. Unfortunately the shield doesn't protect you from a bad landing."

"I guess it doesn't," he smiled.

"I think I'm leaving tonight," she said all of a sudden.

"Already?" he was surprised. "I hoped you'd stay a little longer."

"My time's running out. Dad's leaving tonight and if all goes well I'll be gone by sunrise," she sighed.

"What's really going to happen to you when the future changes?" he asked.

"Technically speaking, I should disappear, but I don't know for sure."

"Frightening thought," Wesley stopped to look at her for a moment.

"Yeah, but it's less scary if you don't think about it," Joy said.

"If I don't get a chance to talk to you again, it's been an absolute pleasure meeting you. And know that I'll do anything I can to make the future a better place so what you did will never be pointless."

"Thanks," she gave him a hug before the ex-watcher retired upstairs to occupy Willow's empty bed. Left alone, Joy pondered going to sleep. It was a waste of time to sleep on your last day on earth, but she didn't really have anything to do so she'd only wind up thinking of her own last vanishing act. And she really didn't want to do that.

"Penny for ya thoughts?" Jacques appeared behind her, startling her.

"Don't do that!" she wanted to smack him over the arm, but her hand went right through him. "Figures. Can't you make yourself material just for a few minutes?"

"Not unless you want to lose me in time," a thin smile appeared on his lips.

"You think I stopped the prime evil today?" she suddenly remembered her encounter with it in the basement.

"Nah, you just delayed it a bit," Jacques assured her.

"Oh. Do you really think I made a difference?" she asked him sitting down on the couch.

"I can't really tell just yet. Ask me tomorrow," he crouched down in front of her. "If there is a tomorrow."

"I'm gonna miss you, Jacques, whatever happens to me," she touched the air next to his cheek.

"I'm gonna miss you too, Joycie. You have no idea how much, chere," touching his amulet, for a single, too short moment, he faded into the past and became tangible to give his best friend one last hug. Then, he disappeared and Joy suddenly felt lonely.

"I never really bothered to ask you this, since everyone seemed to be giving you a hard about it and I know how bad that is, but who are you?" Connor was standing in the doorway of the living room looking over at her.

"I'm Joy," she simply said.

"No, who are you, really," he didn't make a move towards her.

"It's a long, boring story. You really want to know?" she gave him a somewhat desperate look. "It won't really make a difference by tomorrow."

"What's tomorrow?" he asked confused.

"I leave," she took off her ruby glasses.

"Oh," he looked at her eyes and noticed the resemblance between hers and the slayer's. "You really don't seem like you want to tell this story all over again."

"You got that right," she smiled.

"So how about I tell you what I think and you tell me if I'm right," he suggested and Joy nodded. "First of all, you're not really human. You're at least half-demon. You've obviously been fighting demons for a while and you've been trained. Your moves are a lot like the slayer's which makes me believe you were either trained by another slayer or Buffy herself. There is no ghola. There is no brother to begin with. You made that up so you could drag dear old dad over here. How am I doing so far?"

"You have your father's detective skills," she smirked and Connor gave her a half-confused, half-annoyed look. He hated being compared in any way to Angel.

"I'm not quite sure why you brought him here. You're also from another world, like I was," he concluded. "Am I right?"

"Yeah, you are," she said.

"I knew it," Connor smiled. He didn't add the fact that he thought she was from the future and the slayer's daughter because it sounded a little too crazy even to him. "Have a good trip home."

"I will," she assured him. Satisfied, he returned upstairs not saying another word to Joy. A few minutes after he left, Joy fell asleep. She figured dreams were far better than tormenting thoughts.

When she woke up it was well after dark. She couldn't believe she had slept for so long. Maybe she had been more tired than she had believed herself to be. She was surprised to find that she was covered in a blanket, her boots were laying by the couch, her mantle was laid neatly on a chair with her ruby sunglasses on top. She stood up still a little dazed and stretched out. No dreams had disturbed her sleep and she felt rested. She stood up and after putting on her boots she headed for the kitchen.

"Well, look whose finally awake," Buffy greeted her. "I'm afraid you just missed dinner, but there's still some leftovers. Somewhere."

"I'm not really hungry," Joy said pulling her hair back.

"You sure? I don't remember you eating anything today."

"I kind of switched night with day so I'll probably get hungry around midnight. Where is everybody?" she was surprised at the emptiness of the usually overcrowded kitchen.

"Well, Willow had some paper to write and she's at the study hall. I think Wesley's still sleeping. Dawn's upstairs doing her homework. Angel went out to look for those gholas but if you ask me I think he went after Cordy and Connor. I really don't get them," she chuckled.

"Sure you don't," she was obviously bothered by the fact Angel was jealous of Cordelia's attention for his son. There was a knock at the door. "I'll get it," Joy offered and made her way to the front door. It was Spike.

"I'm leaving tonight. Come with me," he told her in a pleading voice.

"I can't. You know I can't," she said in a resigned tone. "But I'll see go, if you want. Maybe watch my last sunrise."

"I'd love that," he said and hugged her tight, holding on to her like she could vanish any second. And she could. Caught in the moment, they didn't realize Dawn had stopped in her tracks at the top of the staircase, listening to them.

"I have to get my things," Joy broke the embrace. She was still wearing Dawn's clothes and she wanted to wear her own clothes when she left this world.

"Spike, what are you doing here?" Buffy asked coming out of the kitchen.

"I found her brother," he lied. "We have to go. Now."

"I'll just get my weapons," Buffy wanted to help out.

"You can't. It's an only demons dimension," Spike made up the excuses as he went along.

"What?" Buffy looked over at Joy. "But she's not..."

"I was infected too," she lied. It was a bad habit she had grown into. "Where are my clothes?"

"Upstairs, in Dawn's room," Buffy told her still taken aback by the news. It would explain a few things, but still. Joy headed upstairs like a storm, passing by Dawn in the process. Buffy stared at Spike for a moment before going after Joy. When she entered Dawn's room, Joy was frantically looking for her clothes. It appeared like Joy had suddenly lost all her patience and wanted nothing more than to leave the house.

"Joy, how could you not tell me you're...whatever you are?" Buffy asked her in an angry voice.

"Be honest, would you have helped me out?" she asked as she finally came across her clothes on a chair.

"Of course I would," she said sounding unconvinced by her own words.

"Oh, come on, Buffy. You get enough hassle helping out humans. Why should you start helping the demons too? Let 'em rot in hell, there's enough of them to go around," she chuckled nervously.

"I'm not like that..." Buffy tried to interject.

"Oh, yeah, well tell me, when's the last time you helped a demon out? Yeah, you know demons, but they're only your 'friends' when they help you out not the other way around," Joy paused for a moment. "If you're not sleeping with them that is."

"That's not fair. I try..." Buffy started, but Joy interrupted her again.

"You can honestly tell me that if you hadn't been attracted to Angel you would've given him a second thought before killing him?" she snapped at her. "And you only kept Spike around because he was useful..."

"I helped him out!" Buffy was beginning to get irritated.

"Yeah, now that you're in love with him!" Joy pointed out.

"I'm not in love with him," she defended herself.

"It's not what that truth spell made you say, now is it?" Joy stopped for a moment to stare at her. "And if what you say is true, well, that's just worse, cause that would make him, what? Your personal sex toy?"

"You have no right to judge me!" Buffy snapped back at her.

"Oh, you have no idea what I have a right to do," Joy turned her back at her and took off Dawn's shirt to put on her own. Buffy stared at her tattoo for a moment, getting an odd feeling reading it.

"And what gives you this so-called right?" the slayer crossed her arms over her chest when, dressed in her own shirt, Joy turned back towards her.

"Knowledge, luv, knowledge," she proceeded to take off her boots and replace Dawn's jeans with her skirt. "Let me do a little recap for you. You loved Angel a hell lot. He left. You got Parker who was an ass. Then Riley who loved you more than anything, but you didn't love him back until he was gone. When he came back, he was married. And now, you say you don't love Spike. Looks to me like the only man you ever loved is Angel."

"What did Spike do? Spend the night telling you every personal detail about me?" she was outraged.

"So tell me, since you both love each other so much, why can't you, I don't know...get back together?"

"We can't. Angel's curse..." Buffy tried to reason with her, but Joy was through reasoning. She was going to say what she had to say right then.

"Wake up and smell the lousy excuses, Buffy. We both know how very possible it is for Angel's soul to become permanent. Oh and did he mention the part with him becoming human one day?" she was dressed now and she was putting her boots back on.

"What?!" she couldn't believe it.

"Just ask him. I'm getting sick of people not knowing the things they should know," Joy said and stormed out of the room and downstairs. She suddenly felt lighter, like she had let out everything that had been bottling up inside her. She went into the living room and picked up her glasses and wrapped her mantle around her shoulders.

"You're not from around here, are you?" Dawn startled her. "Here. This fell out of your mantle." She handed her the amulet.

"You're right, Dawn, I'm not from around here," she took the amulet and put it back safely in her secret pocket. "I'm going back tonight."

"Back where?" Dawn asked her.

"Back home," she seemed to be looking forward to it.

"You forgot your gloves," Dawn suddenly realized.

"You know what? Keep them. You can say I won't need them anymore," she smiled and headed out of the living room.

"Ready?" Spike greeted her. He hadn't moved an inch from where she had left him. He had been afraid that if he made one move he could discover something that would determine him to stay instead of leaving. Joy nodded and went out the door he had held open for her. Just as he was about to exit as well, Buffy yelled after him from the staircase:

"Spike!" He stopped in his tracks and turned towards her. "Take care of yourself."

"I will," a thin smile crossed his lips. "Take care of yourself too."

"I'm not the one going off to fight demons," she reminded him.

"Well, just in case," he turned back towards the door.

"See you tomorrow? You can tell me how it went," she said.

"Yeah, see you tomorrow," he walked out without looking back.

Buffy felt uneasy, Spike's words had sounded too much like a goodbye. She stood there for a few long moments, not moving.

"Hey, need some help finishing up in the kitchen?" Dawn appeared behind her.

"Yeah--I guess," she couldn't bring herself to move from the door.

"Is everything okay?" Dawn asked when she saw her staring at the door.

"Yeah...I just," she sighed. "It's stupid. Spike - it felt like he was leaving. For good."

"So he told you?" she misunderstood.

"Tell me what?" Buffy turned to look her in the eye.

"Oh, nothing," she realized she had made a mistake.

"Dawn," it was that commanding tone that left no room for an escape.

"I heard him talking to Joy. He said he was going to leave tonight," she didn't mention the fact that he asked Joy along, because she herself didn't know what it had really meant.

"Oh, god," Buffy grabbed her jacket and headed out. She scanned the street, but they were nowhere in sight. They were gone. She started walking, hoping that she could find them before they were gone.

He walked in the darkness, heading for the Sunnydale High. As he went on, he was suddenly overcome by all the memories the places he passed by held. All the fights, all the kisses, all the bickering, love, friendship, death, hell, hope, rebirth, becoming a part of the world again after decades lived in utter despair and darkness. The innocent and shy Willow Rosenburg barely managing to say two words in front of him in the beginning, the always jealous and suspicious Xander Harris, the cheerleader queen, overconfident, Cordelia Chase who could crush anyone under the heel of her shoe, the stuffy British librarian with his own unique sense of humor, Rupert Giles, the silent werewolf with a good heart, Oz, the little mischievous 10 year old Dawn Summers, even the always cocky Spike in his wheelchair and the crazy vampire Drusilla, though he'd never admit it. And of course the small blond slayer, Buffy Summers.

He suddenly stopped, wondering where he was going. It took him a minute to break out of the hold the memories had put on him. He was going to the Sunnydale Highschool to see Cordy. She had told him sometime during the day that she was going to check out the highschool with Connor later that night and that he was welcomed to come along. An invitation he had accepted to Connor's annoyance. But by who's fault he didn't know, he had missed their departure and now walked alone in the darkness in their pursuit.

"This time, I really think I found something," Cordy had told him enthusiastically. And if she was really going to remember everything again or at least get a few stray memories back, he wanted to be there.

At the Sunnydale High, Connor and Cordelia walked down the corridors. The school was empty, no one seemed to haunt its hallways on this particular night, only eerie sounds seemed to call out to Connor from beneath the building, but he brushed them off, not listening to them. They walked and walked, went into every classroom, every little room, searched every corner, but Cordelia's memories did not surface. She was disappointed. She had hoped so much that that day would be the day she finally remembered. But apparently it was not.

"Let's go home, it's pointless. Just like everything else I've tried," she told Connor in a heartbreaking voice and the boy wanted to do anything possible to make her happy again. But he knew it didn't stand in his power. "I really thought that coming back here, to Sunnydale, I'll find something, just the smallest most insignificant thing I could remember, but now, I'm here and nadda, zilch," she paused. Connor didn't know what to say to her. "Let's just go."

As they started walking towards the exit, between the rows of lockers, a voice called out to her:

"Hey, Cordy!" She turned towards the origin of that voice. It was a girl with blond hair, wearing a colorful outfit. Cordy didn't know who she was, but she seemed...familiar. She stared at the blond girl and Connor seeing this, looked in the same direction, but saw nothing.

"What is it?" Connor asked, while another voice answered the blond girl's call:

"Coming! So what are you wearing to the dance tonight?" a girl with long brown hair passed right by Cordy and headed for the blond girl.

"Well, I was thinking about that really cute blue outfit I have. You know the one..." the blond girl began talking to the brown haired girl as they headed down the hallway in the other direction from Cordy and Connor. For a brief moment the brown haired girl turned around and looked at them. Cordelia was shocked to see herself staring back. Then suddenly, she remembered.

"The spring dance," she recalled what the two had been talking about. "Harmony's gonna wear that blue outfit and that idiot Gerald Pratt is gonna dump punch on it and that stain will never come out," she let out in a great sigh of relief as all her memories started tumbling back inside her mind. "That's where my locker used to be in the old school," she pointed towards a locker. "And that's where Xander's was. And that," she pointed towards a door leading to a broom closet. "That's where we used to make out before everyone found out about us! I remember, Connor, I remember!" she started laughing and in the excitement of the moment she hugged Connor and then kissed him. But the kiss turned into something more deep and meaningful and it was this that Angel saw from the shadows. He watched them for a moment before turning on his heels and leaving.

At the "Welcome to Sunnydale" sign, a father was getting ready to say goodbye to his daughter. Standing beside a beaten old truck with windows painted in black, Spike watched the city of Sunnydale spreading in the horizon. Joy was standing a few feet away from him leaned on the sign with her mantle hanging over her shoulders, looking at the ground.

"You should get going. It'll be light soon," Joy broke the silence and looked up at him.

"I guess I should. I'm just...I don't bloody know what I'm doing that's what it is," he said turning away from the view of the city.

"You're waiting for her. Hoping she'll show up and just say 'to hell with the world, take me with you and let's leave this place behind'," she smiled.

"That'll never happen," Spike smirked. "She isn't that kind of girl."

"The kind that shoves responsibilities aside? Of course she's not, dad," Joy approached him. "That's why you love her so much. She's a fighter that one."

"Yeah, she is. So are you going to leave after I..." Spike started.

"I think I'll stick around for the sunrise, then leave," Joy interrupted him with the answer to his question. "Now, what did I ask you not to forget?"

"That whatever happens I do whatever it takes to get Willow to New Orleans five years from now on august 21," Spike repeated the words she had told him.

"Good. Now, give your girl a hug and get out of town," Joy smiled and hugged her dad.

"I'm gonna miss you, luv," Spike whispered over her shoulder.

"I will too, dad," she closed her eyes for a moment in his embrace and she realized that no matter the price, he was worth saving. Pulling away from him she looked for something in her pocket. She found the photo she had been looking for and handed it to him. "Here, so you can remember me. Us. Everything that could have been."

Spike looked at the picture amazed, it seemed surreal, like a dream imprinted on paper, a memory of a time that was, but hasn't been yet and will never be.

"I can't take this," he said as if she had just offered him the most expensive gift in the world. He extended it towards her.

"Keep it, it won't do me much good. Jacques found a way to keep it as a memory of our time so it won't change with the world. It'll stay the same. A good memory, for you," she smiled and Spike was speechless. He looked down at the picture another time before carefully placing it in one of the pockets of his coat. "Goodbye, father."

"Goodbye, sweet girl," he smiled and opened the door of the truck. He started the engine and then looking at Joy through the opened side window, he told her: "If you'll be suspended in time like you said and you get a chance, you visit your old man."

"I will," Joy smiled, while the truck pulled away and started down the road leading far away from Sunnydale. Joy watched as the truck disappeared in the horizon and waved a last goodbye to her father and then turned away. She headed for the graveyard. She thought it was a good place to see her last sunrise.

Buffy looked through all of Sunnydale for Spike, but she didn't find him. She only found out from a demon that he had bought a truck and said he was leaving for good. She even walked all the way to the outskirts of Sunnydale, but again, no luck, as Spike, though he *had* been there, was gone for a while now. Deciding her search was hopeless she returned to the graveyard, where, unknown to her, Joy awaited her last sunrise. Spotting the slayer among the graves, Joy hid behind a crypt, observing her.

As Buffy stood there, feeling abandoned, but somehow at peace with that feeling, she felt a presence behind her.

"It's going to be light soon," Angel said in a gentle voice, remembering the last time he had been there with her.

"Can you stay in town, as long as I want you?" a weak smile crossed her lips as she turned towards him.

"How's forever? Does forever work for you?" he smiled back. Buffy sighed.

"Do you feel that every relationship we have is doomed?" she asked him stepping at his side.

"Maybe destiny's giving us a hint," Angel suggested. There was a moment of silence after which Angel and Buffy said at the same time:

"I can't leave Sunnydale/I can't leave LA."

They stared at each other for a moment and then they both started laughing.

"Think we can ever work around everything?" Buffy asked.

"Why not? We've got eternity in front of us," Angel answered as they started walking out of the graveyard.

"So tell me the truth about Joy. Who was she? Cause she definitely wasn't who she said she was," she finally asked as she let her hand slip in Angel's.

"I have no idea," Angel lied.

"You know I heard about this shaman who can restore souls..." Joy heard her say as they disappeared out of the graveyard and her life.

Soon after, the sun rose over the horizon, warm, welcoming, cheerful, lighting the land and making even the saddest place, like a graveyard, seem beautiful in its own unique way. Joy sat herself down next to a crypt leaning her back on its wall as she watched the sun rise just a little bit higher.

"Everythin's okay now, chere," Jacques told her appearing out of nowhere.

"It is?" she asked and she seemed to her friend much weaker than he knew her to be. "Tell me of the new world, Jacques..." she requested and to her surprise Jacques sat down next to her and took her hand in his two.

"I had to be here for you' last moments," he said and she smiled and let her head fall on his shoulder. "There's a new Joy, you know. Buffy and Angel's pride and joy. Pretty, just like you. She got your eyes, but her hair...pitch black. I couldn't call her Joy."

"What do you call her then?" Joy asked.

"I call her Angie, short for Angel, that's wha' I called her when we were small - little angel," he smiled.

"Are they okay? Mom and dad?"

"You' dad's fine. I've seen him a coupla times. He came visitin' after Angie was born. He seems to remember you just fine. Always looked at me strangely. He doesn't know if I remember. I'll have to tell him one day. And your mom...she's great. Angel turned human. Yeah, it happened a few years after Angie came into the world. They're beautiful together, the kinda people you'd see growin' old together, ya know?" Joy smiled.

"And your mom? She okay? And Remy?" she continued to ask.

"Oh, they're fine, wouldn't you know it that if momma hadn't published that big bad book about Fred she'd find somethin' else to make money outta," he chuckled. "Somethin' about what she found in that vulcano in the Amazon. Sold like hotcakes."

"LA wasn't destroyed?" Joy opened her eyes to look questioningly at him.

"Oh, it was destroyed, but it only took a handful of people with it. Wesley kept a promise, that's what Fred told me. Somethin' about a girl with white hair...Remember where that big ol' monument used to be?" Joy nodded. "That's Wesley's now."

"He died," she realized.

"He died savin' the world," he pointed out.

"And the rest? Are they alive? Fred, Gunn, Connor, Cordelia, Celeste?" she closed her eyes again.

"Yeah. Fred isn't all that bad once you get to know her. She and Gunn are still in LA runnin' a demon huntin' business. And get this, Dawn and Xander work with them."

"Xander? Anya didn't die?" she assumed.

"No, she did, but he found the strength to continue fightin' cause of Fred. She had been through the same tragedy and she hadn't let herself fall, she had become even stronger."

"And Dawn?" she let her hand fall limp in his.

"She still a little grim, now and then, but she made it," he smiled.

"Is Liam alive?" she asked after a pause.

"He is. And you wouldn't believe how much he smiles! He's happy now," he was silent for a moment. "But sometimes, he told me, it's like a part of his soul has gone missin' somewhere, in time. And he's sad cause he knows he'll never get it back. And other times, he dreams of a girl with white hair and green eyes," he paused before continuing on a lighter tone: "And that sister of his! What a woman! He wasn't lyin' when he said she was somethin' special. I just hope she's not a heartbreaker," he laughed softly and looked down at Joy. She had fallen asleep with her head on his shoulder and her hand in his. He smiled and brushed away a few strands of hair from her face. "If you think I'm just gonna' let you disappear, chere, you got another thing comin'," he whispered and kissed her on the forehead before they both disappeared under the rays of the morning sun.

Far away, a bag melted in Connor's pocket and on the ground of the graveyard next to a random crypt, colorful shards of glass shined under the rays of the sun, remains of an amulet used to do great magic, to undo a future, to bind and unbind ties between people. A future that became a shadow creeping over the present and the dreams of many.

When the sun will shine
I won't be there to see your face
But when the moon will rise
I will be there for your embrace
From dusk till dawn
I will be watching over you
A haunted soul, a hidden face
A shadow that will always follow
Hoping, begging, for one moment without sorrow.
The day you were born,
The universe stopped
My tears fell, my soul cried,
The world changed.
I felt alive,
Yet dead.