She couldn't move now, though. Her mind and body were stuck and she wanted to fight this sensation, this numb feeling. She was scared that something had happened to Xander, but somewhere inside, somehow inside she was also...relieved. She moved far away from Loni as far as her legs would carry her, as she realised that she had failed. As a friend, as a slayer.

Now what? Could she continue being this way, she knew now what it meant. That she was almost better off being alone, no friends to take care of, no watcher to look after her. She couldn't help herself, but when she saw the lonely deceased form of Amy, she threw up.

"Jeffrey?" Buffy asked, her voice sounded mutated and scratchy. It almost seemed to bounce around inside her head, and she could almost feel her heart stop.

She got up and stumbled over to Jeffrey lying on the floor, tears began and they flooded her face mingling with her blood. "Jeffrey. Jeffrey? Jeffrey! JEFFREY!"

Written by James, Nominated by Erin

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Y'know, thought Fred as she sat next to Lindsey, trying to watch some invisible force-field thing without any luck (and who'd have seen that coming?), I really have no idea what to do here. Usually, there's something I can do, like... Like... Talk! I'm good at talking. I can babble my way into - and out of - any situation without any prelude to the point I was originally making but... But...

The power between Lindsey and the pretty red-head seemed to intensify and then, it was... Beautiful. That was the only way Fred could describe it. It was bright and it was white and it was beautiful and... Then it started to fade and there were angry, horrid red splotches appearing and Fred was afraid. Not for herself, no, because that would be silly - but for Lindsey.

What if something's happening to him? That'd go down well, wouldn't it? My first day here and I actually witness a death, the death of a nice, normal once-a-lawyer guy an-and...

The red color was fading. It was no longer bright and angry to look at. It was the color of dust, the color of old... The color Fred's bike had been when she'd left it out in the rain and then... Then, there was nothing. The light was so bright - brighter than it had been before - and she couldn't bear to look any more, couldn't bear to turn her head and see what it was that held her so captivated.

A simultaneous scream errupted and Fred's hair whipped around her face as the barrier imploded, her eyes blinking to adjust to the lack of light... And she was staring, staring at Lindsey who was back to normal, blood running down towards his lip.

(( "Hey you, umm...person. Spike haired guy." Kennedy said as she pointed to Oz, "Is she going to be okay? Does anyone know if these people are going to be okay? Cause they don't look okay, they look pretty freaking far from okay."

Lindsey groaned, pushing himself up off the ground painfully. Looking up at Kennedy, he smiled, swiping the blood from his nose away with one hand and trying not to look as completely rattled as he felt. "I'll be okay," he offered, glancing over at Fred, who looked pretty shocked about everything that had happened. Not that he could blame her.

"It's over now, whatever it was," he told her, his eyes thanking her for her help. ))

Fred gazed at him, open-mouthed. Forget being ladylike! Forget closing your mouth and accepting the weird goings-on with a quiet grace! What in the name of all things holy was going on here?! She hadn't been imagining that - Kennedy herself had said that she'd saw that and Lindsey looked far from okay and... And things were far from over!

She nodded, dumbly, as Lindsey crawled over to Willow, glancing at the crowd around her. What on earth was she supposed to think? She was sitting there and then... Then Lindsey just turned into this glowing-light guy and... That wasn't normal in Fred's book, not by a long shot!

(( Lindsey nodded and then slowly made his way back to Fred. "Well, that sure was fun, huh?" he remarked, hoping to coax a smile out of her. ))

Fred blinked, staring at Lindsey with wide, shocked eyes. "Fun?" She whispered, incredulously. "Fun? I-- Your nose is bleeding." From her pocket she pulled a tissue and held it out to him, still unsure whether she should make the push to actually touch him, since the last one had seemed to set off a chain reaction, resulting in that whole magnificent light show back there.

"Did I mention that I'm the decided Scully portion of the group?" Asked the brunette, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear after Lindsey had taken the tissue, "Because... I saw that. And, I know that you shouldn't believe everything you see or..." Her voice dropped into a whisper, "I keep pinching myself and I'm not waking up..."

She held up her arm then, showing him the tiny red welts she'd produced while he'd been talking to Willow.

"I'm asking too many questions, aren't I?" Right then, she didn't have it in her to blush, so instead, Fred forced herself to calm down and in the process, felt her features soften. "Are you okay?" She asked, softly. "Am I making you dizzy with all the babblin'?"

Written by Christie (Sonya/James), Nominated by Sonya

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(( "Did I mention that I'm the decided Scully portion of the group?" Asked the brunette, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear after Lindsey had taken the tissue, "Because... I saw that. And, I know that you shouldn't believe everything you see or..." Her voice dropped into a whisper, "I keep pinching myself and I'm not waking up..."

She held up her arm then, showing him the tiny red welts she'd produced while he'd been talking to Willow.

"I'm asking too many questions, aren't I?" Right then, she didn't have it in her to blush, so instead, Fred forced herself to calm down and in the process, felt her features soften. "Are you okay?" She asked, softly. "Am I making you dizzy with all the babblin'?" ))

Lindsey was silent as he reached out and took hold of one of her hands, his other hand touching the red marks lightly. And god, he felt like a huge asshole. Why had he drug her into this?

"I'm fine," he replied softly, giving her a pained smile. "Just worried about you."

He wrapped both his hands around hers and gave it a gentle squeeze. "I'm sorry about all of this. Trust me, it wasn't at all what I intended to be doing today. But... you're right, you did see something. It did happen. And while I can't really explain all of it right now, because I'm almost as confused as you are, I can tell you for a fact that you're not dreaming. And you're not crazy."

Written by Sonya (Christie), Nominated by Christie

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Fred blinked. Then blinked again. Slayers... Vampires. What was she talking about?

"What do you mean?" Asked Fred, aware of her heart beating triple and merging into quadruple time in her chest. "That wasn't weird compared to... What everything else? Vampires? I... Vampires?!" She repeated again, to make sure that she was actually speaking.

She could sort of rationalise a little what she'd seen earlier - especially with the hefty dose of denial she was currently surrounded in - but... Vampires, slayers? Suddenly, Fred felt bewildered. It wasn't like she could call Kennedy crazy! She'd just witnessed the self-same thing that Fred had and now... Now there were vampires in the equation too?

She squeezed her eyes shut for what seemed like forever - and when she opened them, she wasn't in her bed, lying looking up at the ceiling. Lindsey's hand was still on hers, his pulse beating steadly against her skin. For a second, it was calming... And then Fred had to laugh because it was all just too absurd, wasn't it? Vampires. Sure. Ha-ha. Someone had known she was coming. They'd put on this little show for her because... Because... This town was called Roswell and where else would weird things happen but here?

Fred was running out of reasons and rationalisations. How could she rationalise something if, before this, she hadn't even known it had existed?

"Uhm... This would be the part of the conversation where I lie down and rest my head for a month." Fred muttered, nodding. I'm dreaming. In a few minutes, I'll wake up and... It'll all have been this weird, freaky kind of dream...

Written by Christie, Nominated by Sonya

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(( "Um... gimme a second... I'll be right back," he murmured, dropping Fred's hands and moving over to where Angel was standing. ))

"Ummm...sure." Kennedy said awkwardly to Lindsey as he walked away then she leaned into Fred, "He's just as good looking walking away as he is walking towards you, eh?"

Kennedy giggled as she thought that might make Fred blush again. She then smiled apologetically to her, "Sorry just stating the obvious, so you're Scully and he's Mulder...what am I? The cigarette guy? Oh please not the cigarette guy."

Written by James (Sonya), Nominated by Sonya/Christie

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Once Ben had healed her leg from afar, and before she really had a chance to get up and back into the fight, something happened and everyone started dispersing. As much as Faith wanted to kick Buffy's ass, she had enough for tonight. Gathering herself up, Faith glanced toward the front doors, and decided there were too many people out there that might not be on her side at the moment. Instead, she headed for the 'emergency' exit at the back of the funeral home. She slipped out and started strolling toward her apartment. Amazingly, her leg didn't really hurt, so, she decided to dust any vamps that she came upon.

She found a corpse a few steps away and knew she was on the right track. She heard struggling down another alley with a dead end, and she smiled. At least one kill would make her feel better. She snuck down the alley, hugging the wall. It was a Slayer bonus, because when her prey came into view, it was a pair of scrawny teenage vamps. Faith grabbed the stake that she had left out of her pocked and threw it like a knife into the back of the blonde vamp just about to bite into a new victim. As the first one became dust, the other turned and glared at her, leaving his snack to huddle in the corner with the other girl.

Faith did backflips and picked up her stake, ready to fight the dark haired vamp. He came at her with a vengence and she knew at once that she had just staked his lover. She said as much, and it pissed him off more than he already was. Which was fine with Faith, because it was much more fun to fight a pissed off vamp. He tried a roundhouse and Faith nonchalantly caught his ankle as it swung toward her head. She twisted hard, hearing a satisfying crunch, which sent the vamp to the ground. He was a young vamp, recently made, because his strength wasn't what a more experienced vamp, like Aidan or Spike, would be. She brought her knee down hard into his spine, and leaned over, whispering into his ear.

"Tell whomever you meed where ever you go, that you had the honour to have been killed by the Slayer." As if he would have even known who she was at this point, but she slammed the stake into the vulnerable spot in his back, and he too, becaue all gray and ashen. Faith stood up and brushed her hands together. She looked around to see where the girls had gone, and they were nowhere to be seen. She shrugged, she had considered walking them home, but that was their loss. She saved them from being vamp food once, they were on their own the next time.

She re entered the alley, heading home to get a bath and put on some clean clothes and relax a little bit. It had been one hell of a day.

Written by Court, Nominated by Erin

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Dru morphed into vamp face and turned towards Cordelia. "I didn't say my name, pet but I think you already know it. Fancy meeting you here," she said. "You get a very funny class of people at funerals these days. They'll let anyone in."

She moved a step towards Cordelia. "Booo," she shouted. Dru turned and ran for the car. She would eat later. One day she would sire Miss High and Mighty Cordelia Chase. She promised herself that pleasure, just not today.

Suddenly Buffy did something she had not done in a good long while, she laughed. And laughed, and laughed as she watched this scene of Drusilla shouting 'booo' and running away. It looked so surreal, a scary vampire, an old trained vampire runnning away from Cordelia. She had been ready to get up when she had seen Drusilla near Cordelia, but then she saw Drusilla's reaction to Cordy. "Oh, er...sorry. I'm really sorry. Ha! Hey good job Cordy, didn't know you had it in you. You scared big scawy Dwusilla."

Written by Brit/James, Nominated by Erin

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Lorne had kicked Connick and the other guy out around 5.30... Well a demon has to have a little alone time before his big moment right? Plus just because he was naturally adorable didn't mean he didn't want to make a bit of an effort... Got to give em the old razzle dazzle you know...

He sat in front of the mirror in a deep blue robe carefully applying just the right amount of make up... Well the club was rather bright and being upstaged by the decor wasn't on his to do list...

The demon smacked his lips together and gave himself a huge grin... "Do I even have to say it?" The grin broadened... "Nope I don't but I'm gonna anyway... Lorne you look fabulous..."

30 minutes later he was dressed and ready to go. Looking immaculate as ever he gave him self one final approving glance in the mirror before heading downstairs. The place was starting to hum already, seemed that even in a small town people still liked to party in a big way. Sure it wasn't Caritas... It could never be Caritas... For a fraction of a second a wave of melancholy washed over him. He'd been in LA a few years, made some good friends... It felt crappy to be driven out by a bunch of jerks, plus LA had a thriving demon community so it wasn't like he had to hide all the time...

The demon sighed and one internal slap around the face later he shook off the moody blues and smiled at the gathered crowd. This was a hell of a place... A damn sight bigger than Caritas, plus he had the whole floorshow thing going on as well as other acts and the karaoke with the optional soul reading... Yeah so sure it sucked that he'd been driven out of LA but look where he'd landed.

He made his way through the growing crowd, smiling and schmoozing like the professional he was when he noticed one of the new girls from this afternoon approaching him... *Hmm... Ava... Yeah that's it...*

Sparkling, waitress-y smile in place, Ava strutted out of the dressing room and headed straight for Lorne.

"How do Ah look, bossman?" she asked, giving him a little spin so he could see the full effect.

Lorne placed a finger over his lip in mock contemplation... A moment later his features broke into a smile. "Sweetness you look just wonderful. Green really is your colour." She did look adorable, but there was still something about the girl he couldn't quite put his finger on... Nothing that worried him unduly though... "Yeah fantastic... I'll have to watch out or you'll be upstaging me won't ya gorgeous..."

Written by Lorne/Erin, Nominated by James

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Buffy moved her eyes over Angel, and memories flooded back, she wanted to take comfort in him. But she couldn't. That would make it easier if she could, she still loved him. She always would, but she couldn't handle another relationship of impending doom.

Written by James, Nominated by Allie

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Rath made his way into the club, following after Liz silently. He was still trying to come to grips with having his life saved by Max. It was... well, a little hard to take. And the memory swapping thing? Hadn't helped matters much.

Like he'd needed to see how Liz looked from Max's eyes. Like he wanted that on his shoulders. The guy was Mr. Perfect, at least to a girl like Liz Parker, and he loved her. If Rath cared about her at all, he'd do the right thing and step aside. Wouldn't he?

He glanced over at her petite form as she made her way to a nearby table. She looked beautiful in a way that continued to throw him for a loop, because god, how was she even his type? How was he even hers? How did any of this even work? And, of course, the 20 million dollar question: once Zan showed up for real, why would any of it even matter?

Well, fuck this, he thought. He was tired of worrying and being afraid. So what if Zan was coming? So what if he could probably beat all of them without breaking a seat? So what if he was so close Rath could almost taste it?

Damn it, if this was his last night here, his last night to feel like he was finally free, then he was going to enjoy it. Let Max find his own girl. Liz was damn well taken.

Coming up to stand at her side, Rath nudged her shoulder. "Well, Ah'm thinkin' ya didn't get all dolled up jus' ta stand around," he told her. "So how's about a dance?"

Written by Sonya, Nominated by Erin

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Wes had kept looking up at the dark haired woman dressed all in black. There was something about her... something familiar. For the life of him though, he couldn't work out what. He didn't even know anyone in America. When the woman walked off towards one of the tables, he gave up trying to place her and took another drink from the pint he'd paid for a little earlier.

He'd been surprised at the wide selection of tracks the karaoke machine seemed to carry. Even though mostly everyone was choosing the most obvious and cheesy songs, there were actually a few good tracks on it. There was also a fair amount that he'd never heard of - he'd have to check out what kind of sounds the last decade had produced. Although if this "Hit Me Baby One More Time" thing that had been caterwauled five minutes ago was any indication, he wasn't sure he wanted to know.

As one girl giggled her way off stage, Wes realised it was finally time. Not many people were paying attention to the stage now, preferring to let the singing blend into the background. Well, as long as a certain redhead paid attention, he wasn't bothered about anyone else.

A simple piano started playing from the speakers with a backing synth tone as he walked up and put his hand on the mike-stand. He paused, waiting for his cue, then turned into the mike.

"Working hard to make a living,
bringing shelter from the rain.
A father's son left to carry on;
blue denim in his veins.
Wohhh-ohhh-ohhh, he's a working class man."

On the last word a set of drums and a slashing rock guitar kicked in, accompanying the piano.

"Well he's a steel town diciple,
he's a legend of his kind.
He's running like a cyclone across the wild mid-western sky.
Wohhh-ohhh-ohhh, he's a working class man."

Wes had a surprisingly powerful voice, well suited for the Australian rock anthem he was singing. He even managed to inject an indiginous accent into it. He started to move to the beat of the song, his swagger carrying more than a little of Mark Shaw's 'cool arrogance'.

"He believes in God and Elvis,
he gets out when he can.
He did his time in Vietnam,
still mad at Uncle Sam.
He's a simple man with a heart of gold and a complicated life."

The guitar died away on one note as the percussion became simpler and the easy melody more country-ish.

"Ohhh, he's a working class man."

He looked down at the floor as he held the mike stand with both hands now, tapping his foot gently. Fifteen to twenty seconds later, the percussion left the song. It was back to the piano.

"Well he loves a little woman,
someday he'll make his wife.
Saving all the overtime for the one love of his life."

The verses are soulful, a small calm before the fire of the chorus's. Wes sees Willow serving and catches her eye, the corner of his mouth upturning just before the drums and guitar punch in again.

"He ain't worried about tomorrow because he just made up his mind.
Life's too short for burning bridges, take it one day at a time.
Wohhh-ohhh-ohhh, he's a working class man.
Wohhh-ohhh-ohhh, he's a working class man."

The guitars become layered and more anthemic as they play into the song's finale.

"Ohhhh yeah! Yeah he is......
Well he's a working class man. Ohhh...
I tell you he's a working class man!"

Backing vocals from the actual song repeated its title as Wes segued into a vaguely Springsteen-esque rock-screech going over the chorus. He even pretended the mike-stand was a guitar at one point, lifting it up and moving his fingers up and down it as he 'played'. The performance was straight out of '80s MTV. It was certainly the most animated and at the same time, the most serious turn of the night. While everyone else had just been messing about, just singing for laughs, Wes had been intent on putting on a show.

*Bet 'Wesley the Watcher' never did this* he thought, smirking as the song came to its natural end, the drums cutting out and an elongated symbol fading away as the bass guitar played the last few gentle chords on it's own.

Dispensing with the steps at the side of the stage, Wes took a step forward and casually jumped the small distance to the floor. He scanned the room for Willow as he made his way through the crowds. Some were laughing ("how sad was he?"), but he caught a few whispers of impressed appreciation as he passed by others.

Written by Nick, Nominated by Erin

-------

The alcohol was starting to get a good grasp over his mind. Red eyes created blurry vision and no way could he walk a straight line but he could still talk without a slur and he could still remember why he was here and why he didn't want to be alone.

He was drunk but not yet wasted. Which was why he had decided to order another drink. A few more beers and he would have eradicated enough brain cells to make the hollow void in the pit of his stomach fill with something, anything besides the cold dark nothing that was there now. He couldn't stand the emptiness much longer.

"And I'll just have Coke," A very breezy voice stated from next to him.

Something in the girl's tone sounded kind-of familiar to him and without thinking he turned his body to the right, swivelling his neck in her direction to get a better look. Expecting to see someone he knew he was surprised, not only by the lack of recognition he felt towards the woman sitting on the adjacent stool, but also by the radiant beauty that projected from her soft features.

Doyle's jaw dropped as he took in the bronzed beauty's glowing appearance. She was a knockout.

Absently as he gaped, the unlit cigarette he twirled in his left hand suddenly slipped from his fingers, silently hitting the floor of the bar. It took a minute for the small absence to register in his mind. When it did, seconds later, blinking he quickly bent down to retrieve the accidently discarded object.

As he stood up, lifting the cigarette from off the floor, his green eyes took the opportunity to admire the impossibly long legs that stretched out before him. His subtle gaze moved quickly upward, taking in her flawless form. The outfit was well chosen, he noted appreciating the dark material that hugged her curves as if tailored specifically for her body. Siding back onto his stool he swallowed hard. Had it just gotten hotter in there?

Then suddenly the woman was looking at him like she knew him, and to him, it was as if the volume in the room had been turned down.

Recently it had not been uncommon for people he didn't recognize to identify him in strange places. In fact, if it weren't for the lingering feelings telling him that he had seen this woman someplace before he wouldn't have even given her acknowledgment a second thought. Still this time it seemed different.

Giving her an inquisitive eyebrow raise he decided that maybe he did know her.....but, nah. There's no way he would have forgotten a looker like her, amnesia or no. It must be a coincidence.

Reaching out, she touched his shoulder gently. He was surprised by the friendly contact but didn't object. Quite the contrary. "Hi, Doyle. You know... you don't look so good."

Can't say the same for you he thought, surprised by her usage of his name. Opening his mouth he moved to say those exact words but caught himself at the last second. Instead he smiled slightly saying. "Thanks." A small self conscious chuckle followed. "Don't feel too good either." He admitted. His right hand moved idly to the back of his neck as he spoke, rubbing the tense muscles there gently.

"Not dat i'm complainin, mind ye." He explained casually, flashing her a wan smile. His mind was swimming with thoughts of loss and pain but suddenly things were looking up. "I suppose things cud be worse." He stated as a way to facilitate conversation. He didn't want to stop talking to her. Other then the demon bartender she was the first person he had met tonight that sparked enough interest for him to talk to.

Not that, he figured, she was really interested in talking to him. It was probably just a causal hello. He was just someone to occupy her time while she ordered her drink. Still, he shrugged, as long as she was around he might as well take advantage of the situation and get a little conversation going.

Smiling sheepishly at his own ignorance, embarassed despite his inability to correct the situation, or perhaps embarassed by his inability to correct the situation, he spoke easily to the beautiful brunette. "I'm sorry. Erm... 'Av we met before?"

Written by Bunny, Nominated by Erin

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Isabel sighed and looked into Xander's eyes. She knew that he believed what he said, but she still didn't. If she hadn't helped Amy, none of this would have ever happened. But Isabel knew that helping Jeffery's dying sister had been the right thing to do.

"Xander, this would have never happened if I hadn't gone in there. I helped Amy. I know I did. I helped her to let go, and she didn't want to stay. But Jeffrey never understood that." Isabel paused as she looked at the destruction around her, and a stray tear dripped down her cheek. "But maybe he does now." She said in a softer voice as she looked toward the heavens.

Written by Court, Nominated by James

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He watched Cordelia's demeanor shift slightly at his compliment. Her whole body seemed to become taller, her expression brightening. It was a subtle change but he caught it easily, pleased to have effected her at all, if only a little. He couldn't keep his eyes off of her. The regal way she carried herself reminded him of a model, confident and beautiful.

She had the kind of high-class style that drove him crazy. Her no doubt designer outfit revealed just enough skin to catch his attention and keep it. She was a man trap of the worst kind. Impossible to escape.

His fuzzy eyes were unconsciously drawn to her dark ones enchanted by the mystery and life he saw reflected there. The light sparkling within the chestnut orbs was rivaled only by the precious stone's in her ears. He was caught.

She sighed. A brief, whispery sigh that fluttered through her throat and was gone in an instant. The sound to him was flawless.

She was everything he had ever wanted in a woman but could never deserve. His part demon status put a stop to that. Still he had to try. He couldn't help it. It was in his nature.

Suddenly a horrifying thought crossed his mind. Did she know that he was a half-demon? Embarrassment flushed his skin as he shifted suddenly uncomfortable on the barstool.

How could he find out how much she knew, he wondered? Panic seized his mind. There was no easy way to ask. He listened to her talk, paying close attention to any clue's that might reveal her knowledge of his ancestry.

"When you're right, you're right," she told him, a self-satisfied smile curving her lips. He noticed that the smirk didn't quite reach her eyes. Did she know his secret and was just being polite for the sake of good manners?

"Aside from some bad judgment about men, I think I rate fairly high on the Perfect-o-meter. Perhaps you should thank your lucky stars that I'm sitting here with you."

He almost laughed at the statement, easily picking up on the mild amusement in her voice. "Don't think I'm not, princess." He stated honestly, giving her a playful smile.

Reaching out he pick up his glass, taking a short drink and setting it back down before continuing. "Bad judgement, huh?" he asked diverting his attention back to the girl. "Well dat gives me sum hope." he continued, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

"So tell me, how many times 'av we saved de world?" he asked curiously recalling her earlier words. As an after thought he continued. "And how does a looker like yer git involved in such a dangerous crowd, anyway?" he asked giving her a quick but appreciative once over.

Written by Bunny, Nominated by Erin

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Lindsey was taking a long time to reply but Angel barely noticed. To him it was as if time was standing still. Everything was frozen. It had halted the very moment that he had spotted Buffy approaching the young man on the other side of the bar. All sounds vanished, every other patron in the establishment became invisible. Nothing else mattered.

Heightened vampire senses became instantly alert, each nerve ending keenly aware of her every movement. He listened to her heart beat. The strong, rhythmic thumping was simple to locate despite the deafening din of the blaring music and the constant chatter of conversation. The slayer's pulse was as unique to him as a fingerprint. He could find it anywhere.

Right now her heart was beating fast. He recognized the sound. Her heart used to beat like that when she spoke to him. Right now though she was not looking at him, she was looking at some stranger she probably barely knew.

His stomach sunk. All feelings of contentment that he had previously felt were instantly replaced with a dull but harsh ache in his chest as he watched them together. His nostrils flared and his eyes glistened. Sharp observation skills, honed by over two centuries of experience facilitated his subtle scrutiny of her coquettish behavior. Automatically he carefully masked his anger with a cool unobtrusive cloak of indifference.

Leaning casually against the bar, he watched discreetly from his stool as Ryan moved to touch her arm. Angel's eyes narrowed slightly, a nearly imperceptible showing of his newfound aggression towards the charming young man. A low feral growl unconsciously began to grow deep within the pit of his stomach and the small hairs on the back of his neck bristled. Powerful feelings of anger, stemming both from misplaced illusions of possession as well as justified jealousy blossomed in his gut.

He could feel his mind raging. Images of the doctor's body, battered and bloody, flashed through his mind. Before he could react on that self-made vision though he watched as the man dropped his hand back to his side. Relief flooded through his icy body at Ryan's hesitancy towards intimacy, though the hatful thoughts that blistered in his mind did not cease. The sweet looks the couple shot at each other made sure of that.

Pouting, he watched as they talked for a moment longer his mind in turmoil. If he concentrated he would have been able to hear their words but the reality of how much her flirtatious voice directed at another individual would tear him apart kept his spying to a strictly visual medium.

Using his peripheral vision he saw Buffy brush her arm lightly against the other man before slowly walking away. A sharp knife-like pain penetrated his chest as he watched her sexy strut, her movements filled with definite purpose. Sorrow created rage in him which boiled under his skin causing his fists to clench tightly at his sides. His iris's flashed gold.

Not wanting to seem creepy he avoided looking at her as she worked, instead he directed his attention on the other goings on in the bar. His casual scrutiny of the place was strictly superficial. All he cared about was Buffy. Her avoidance of his presence only served to further fuel his petulance. He folded his arms darkly across his chest, slinking slightly in his seat. He was not happy to be there.

To begin with there were far too many people. The noise was irritating his ears, each sound, loud to a human's ear was tripled in his supernatural eardrums. Plus there was just too much movement. It was hard to concentrate on any potential threats.

Angel frowned. This was not the right environment for proper sulking. There were far too many colors and happy people. He stewed and tried to ignore as much of what was happening around him as possible.

Despite his self inflicted mind set of Buffy-avoidance he was still able to catch sight of her as she pulled Ryan into a nearby alcove. It took an extreme amount of will power for him to control himself from jumping up and snapping the guy's neck. Instead he remained motionless on his stool his eyes fixed on the last place he had seen Buffy. His body was static, not even his chest moved in his typical mimicking of human breathing.

His mind was on fire with questions. Why had she pulled him into that alcove. Who was she hiding from? Was she hiding from him and if so why? Did she feel guilty for being with another man or was she just trying to spare the new guy from having to be in the middle of an embarrassing scene?

He thought of her hiding from him and almost laughed despite his heart ache. Was she kidding? Did she actually believe that she could trick him by slipping into the small protuberance. Did she really think that his full and complete senses would not be focused solely on her?

He grimaced and turned his head from the scene. He wanted to go over there and confront her but he knew he had no right. She was not his anymore.

Scowling at Lindsey instead, he squinted his eyes unhappily as if to say, are you ever going to talk?

Written by Bunny, Nominated by James

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Dru clapped her hands again. "I knew 'e was listenin'. He can see what Dru should be, what she was once. I know he can. Tell me on my own."

She moved away from Wesley and took hold of Lorne's arm. There was no harm intended and the spell didn't hit.

"Let's find ourselves a nice little corner and talk. Little Jack Horner had a corner. Did you find any plums in my future?"

Written by Brit, Nominated by Erin

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Dru watched the big green demon leave the club with another of his kind, not green but demon none the less. She smiled enigmatically wondering if his promise of protection for Wesley was still going to be provided.

Dru could feel that the spell was still there she could sense it somewhere deep inside herself. That mattered not she could wait she was patient and she would feed tonight. Donated blood wasn't half as sweet as that taken without consent. Fear added the savour to the feast.

She moved languorously onto the dance floor. Not seeking a partner for she didn't need one. Dru began to twirl and glide, her long dark hair flowing round her face as she dipped and pirouetted to music from a long gone era that only she could hear. She smiled and curtsied to her invisible partner. Her lips were parted showing pearly teeth and she sighed a name as she twirled. "Angelus."

She began to sing softly a song far older than the Victorian dance. Its words old even before a boy called Liam was sired.

Written by Brit, Nominated by Erin