This Is How It Goes

"Not yet," Buffy said nonchalantly, shrugging. "But, I figure once you see us playing hacky sack with one of your kidneys, you might get a little talkative."

Skinner smiled unpleasantly, shifting a little in his chair to get comfortable. "Works in theory."

Buffy scrutinized him with narrowed eyes for a moment before she turned around to the rest of the group. "Xander, Willow, Wes, you guys keep researching. Maybe we'll find it in the books and we won't have to resort to disembowelment."

"What — what are you going to do, Buffy?" Willow asked in a small voice, eyes flicking to Skinner.

"Me and Giles are going to have a little chat with Ashley here," Buffy said grimly, and then turned to Giles. "Help me move him to the back of the stacks?"

Giles nodded, looking at Skinner with a tight, ominous smile that made the vampire recoil a little. Giles grasped one of the corners of the chair with Buffy and they dragged him up the library stairs, making sure to do it as slowly and painfully as possible. Skinner struggled as they moved him, wriggling in his restraints and growling.

They slid him behind one of the bookshelves and Buffy bent down to tighten his ropes. She and Giles both backed up, standing in front of Skinner and looking down at him like he was an art project. The vampire stopped struggling and looked coolly back up at them, the ghost of a smirk playing on his features.

"You gonna torture me now?" he asked casually. "That it?"

"We're considering all options," Buffy responded, and punched him in the face.

His head was thrown to the side with the force of her hit. He chuckled darkly, licking the blood off his lip and turning back to stare, unruffled, at Buffy.

"Boss said the poison was like having your entire body set on fire," he said, eyes never leaving Buffy's face.

Buffy clenched her jaw and fists, her stomach curling with anger. "How do you cure him?" she asked, trying to keep her voice even.

"Like being torn open from the inside out," Skinner continued as if Buffy hadn't spoken. "'Till he dissolves into a pile of ashes, that is."

Buffy threw out her left fist, colliding with his jaw. There was a deep, hot rage bubbling up inside her. "What's the cure?" she asked, her voice breaking.

Skinner took the hit, smiling. "You think I'm gonna tell you anything he doesn't want you to hear?" He shook his head. "Poor, naОve little girl."

Buffy backhanded him viciously and his head snapped back into the chair. She stepped forward, leaning down to just inches away from his face, and glared at him, eyes burning.

"You know what?" she asked, her breath coming shallower. "I'm getting a little sick of people calling me that. Seems like everyone thinks they know me better than I do."

"Maybe they do," Skinner responded, his eyes glinting, his mouth curled in a tight, malevolent smirk.

Buffy cocked her fist back to hit him again and Giles put a hand on her shoulder. She twisted her head sharply to look at him.

"Buffy," he said quietly, and led her behind one of the bookshelves, outside of Skinner's vision. "You need to back off from this. You're too close."

Buffy tried to take a deep, calming breath and failed miserably. "I know," she said, irritated at her own loss of self-control. "I — I just ... I need to hit something."

Giles grasped her shoulders, peering into her eyes. "Save it for the fight. Hang back for now."

Buffy nodded, still feeling her muscles trembling. Giles walked back to Skinner and Buffy followed him, a couple of feet back. Skinner was smiling meaningfully at her, as if he knew exactly how helpless and furious she was feeling.

Giles walked to stand in front of the bound vampire and Skinner finally glanced up at him.

"Good cop?" he asked casually.

Giles punched him in the stomach. "Slightly less belligerent cop," he responded as Skinner doubled over, panting.

The vampire laughed breathlessly, head down. "Look at you glorious heroes," he managed to gasp out. "Beating up your defenseless hostage."

"You don't qualify as defenseless," Buffy sneered from several paces back.

Skinner lifted his head, smirking cockily. "And you don't exactly qualify as heroic, do you, sweetheart?" Buffy narrowed her eyes. "Doesn't matter anyway," Skinner continued. "Come Graduation day, all those pathetic self-identity issues will be swallowed up by larger things." He tilted his head thoughtfully. "Literally."

Giles and Buffy exchanged a sharp glance. "Graduation day?" Giles repeated. "That's when he -"

"Ascends?" Skinner finished, running his tongue along his upper teeth in anticipation. Buffy felt a little like throwing up. "You can't imagine how long he's waited for this."

Buffy stepped forward, coming up besides Giles. She was frowning. "Why are you telling us this?"

"Like I said, it doesn't matter now. You can't stop it. He's got this town wrapped around his little, freakishly clean finger." He was grinning widely now, his eyes glinting. "The Mayor will Ascend, and he'll tear through this town so fast you'll be dead before you hit the ground."

There was a moment of pregnant silence. Buffy swallowed, trying to ignore the way her stomach clenched with fear. Graduation was only two days away. "Never figured you for the blindly obedient underling," she said, attempting to inject a measure of contemptuous scorn into her voice.

Skinner laughed loudly, brazenly. "I'm not obedient to the Mayor, cupcake. I serve an ideal. He's just the fastest way to get there."

Buffy and Giles exchanged another look. "What happens during the Ascension?" Giles asked quietly.

"He moves to a higher plane," Skinner said, his eyes shining with zealous anticipation. "He becomes the pure embodiment of the demon Olvikan."

"And then?" Buffy asked quietly.

"Then he eats this town and shits it back out."

Chapter 32: Sacrifice

Author's Notes: I'm actually pretty excited for this chapter. Is that weird, being excited for your own story? Aaaaanyways, let me know what you guys think of it.

Buffy sat staring uncomprehendingly at the book in front of her. Her mind was whirling, her stomach roiling. Things were happening so fast. She had just been to see Angel, and his condition was rapidly worsening. He was shivering and pale, burning up and close to delirious. Different languages peppered his ramblings, Buffy catching snatches of French and something that may have been Romanian. He held Buffy's hand like he was drowning, and she dabbed his brow with a damp, warm washcloth. Angel winced every time she touched him, and it ripped through her.

There was a thick obstruction in her throat, but she felt like she couldn't cry. She couldn't do anything except look through this utterly useless book in front of her. They had been searching for any mention of some zudikas negyvas but coming up completely empty. The Mayor had been aiming for obscurity with his poison, and he had apparently succeeded. Angel was going to die before they could even find out if an antidote existed.

Accompanying all of her thoughts about Angel were visions of Sunnydale as a lifeless pile of rubble. Her friends, her mom, her lovers as charred bodies, while the Mayor ripped through her town. And she didn't know what to do about either. God, she wanted Faith to be here. Just to hold her, to take her hand and say that they could get through this together. Instead, Buffy laced her own fingers together and tried to absorb what was in front of her.

"So, Skinner didn't say anything about a cure?" Willow whispered next to her, and Buffy was pulled out of her dismal musings. She jerked her head up in surprise and Willow flinched a little.

"Sorry," Buffy said quietly, and then shook her head. "No, he didn't. He doesn't know or he's not telling us, but either way we're coming up empty."

"Maybe we should hit him some more," Willow said thoughtfully.

Buffy sighed, looking at the bound vampire. They had moved him downstairs into the cage and he was surveying all of them with a detached interest. "He's a tough one to break, Wil. Don't think he's giving anything else up."

She glanced out of the window anxiously, seeing the sharp streaks of afternoon light. The shadows were growing longer in the library and they were running out of time. Buffy swallowed.

"It'll be okay, Buffy," Willow said, watching her intently.

Buffy smiled weakly. "No," she said, shaking her head. "I don't think it will be."

Willow looked back at her, face twisted in sadness and compassion. She put her hand over Buffy's and squeezed gently. Buffy met her eyes and felt that lump in her throat grow, felt that prickling sensation under her eyelids. She abruptly let her hand slide out of Willow's grasp and stood up, shaking her head violently. She couldn't afford to let go now. Willow watched her, brow furrowed in understanding at her distancing.

"I'm gonna go see Angel," Buffy whispered, and Willow nodded.

Buffy slipped away, opening the office doors slowly and carefully, not letting any light in. The room was dark and warm, lit by a single lamp on Giles' desk. Angel was on the floor, wrapped in blankets. His body and face were pale and slick with sweat, the blankets twisted around his bare chest as he thrashed weakly. She stepped closer and saw his head shifting sporadically, his face contorted in anguish and pain. His eyes were moving wildly underneath his lids, his mouth slightly open and emitting soft groans. Buffy sat down on the floor next to him, crossing her legs and putting a hand out tentatively. She could feel the heat radiating off him. She went to touch him and stopped, withdrawing her hand sharply. Buffy watched him tenderly for several seconds before standing up and going out the door.

Buffy walked to the center of the library and cleared her throat. The others raised their heads from their researching, looking at her curiously.

"Would you guys mind leaving?" Buffy asked, intensely grateful for how steady her voice sounded. "I think ... I'd like to be alone with him."

They exchanged understanding glances, Willow standing up and walking over to her. "Of course, Buffy," she said softly, and put her arms around her. Buffy hugged her back, melting into the embrace.

Giles, Wesley and Xander stood up too. They stretched and filed past her, giving her soft, compassionate looks. Giles put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed gently, smiling sadly at her.

"I have some more books at home," he said quietly. "It's not over, Buffy."

Buffy nodded at him, feeling the complete opposite in her gut. And suddenly she was alone. The library was silent and looming, dust floating in the air. There was no one else. Except, of course, for Skinner, who was smirking callously at her and who she was effectively ignoring. She didn't even glance at him as she went back inside the office, walking over to Angel and sitting down next to him. She touched his forehead softly, feeling it burning under her palm, and he clenched his jaw.

"Angel," she whispered.

His eyes fluttered open, shifting around before focusing on her face. "Buffy?" he breathed.

She nodded, clasping his hand. "I'm here."

"It hurts," he said, flinching.

Buffy felt her heart shatter a little more. "It — it won't for much longer, okay?" she whispered jaggedly. There was a roaring sound in her head as she looked down at him, a chaotic storm in her stomach. She was going to have to watch him die. Again. She was going to have to sit helplessly while he dissolved in her hands. The tears came and she didn't stop them. She felt them roll down her cheeks, watched them as they dropped onto Angel's bare chest and evaporated when they hit the heat of his skin.

"I love you," he said, looking at her with bright, wavering eyes.

She cried harder, repressing a sob. "I love you too," she said unevenly. "I never stopped, okay? I never stopped and I never will."

He gently raised a hand and cupped her face, tracing her cheek with his thumb. "I know."

They gazed at each other, lost in the depths of each other's eyes. He was Angel, her first love. He would always be a part of her, always have a place in her heart and mind.

"I can't lose you," she breathed.

"Shh," he said, still cupping her face. "It's gonna be okay."

She opened her mouth to say something else and stopped as a sound filtered in from the library. Skinner was saying "Slayer," in a sing-song voice, repeating it over and over. Buffy looked out of the open door incredulously. She dropped Angel's hand softly, eyes sliding over his face again, and then stood up and walked quickly out of the office. The sun had almost completely set as Buffy strode over to the front of the cage, feeling that familiar expansion of rage as she looked at the bound vampire.

"Hey there, Slayer," Skinner said, grinning. "In the home stretch, are we?"

"Yeah, we are," Buffy snarled, and unlocked the cage and threw open the door violently. She whipped out her stake, advancing upon Skinner. "Have a nice trip to hell, Skinner."

"Whoa," he said loudly, flattening himself against the chair behind him. "Stake me now and you'll never hear how to cure your boy."

Buffy froze, eyes narrowing disbelievingly. "You don't know what the cure is."

"I know," he said firmly. His smile was gone, his face shadowed and serious.

"Why would you tell me now?" she snapped.

Skinner cocked his head, one of the corners of his mouth turning up. "Don't wanna miss the show."

Buffy frowned in confusion. "What are you babbling about?" she asked sharply.

"You," he said quietly. "You're the cure. Draining a Slayer is the only antidote."

Buffy stared at him as her brain actually slowed down, absorbing what he had said. His words were spinning in her mind. There was a peculiar feeling inside of her — a sharp surge of hope in her chest while her stomach plummeted simultaneously.

"I can't trust you," she whispered, her eyes focused on somewhere behind Skinner.

"It's the truth," he said quickly. "Check it out with tweed-boy."

Buffy glanced sharply at him one more time before running out of the cage, skidding to a stop in front of the phone on the counter and grasping it. She dialed Giles' number with shaking hands, hearing it ringing anxiously. Her skin was humming.

"Buffy?" Giles answered, his voice both afraid and eager.

"Giles," she said quickly. "The cure. Is it my blood?"

"Buffy, you -"

"Is it?" she interrupted loudly, sharply.

He sighed. She could almost hear him rubbing his eyes. "Yes."

She felt relief course through her. "Buffy, please, wait," Giles continued desperately. "I know how you feel about him, but please -"

She cut him off, placing the phone down on its cradle. Her hands were trembling. This was it. The only option. Angel wasn't going to die.