It was a strangely silent night. Usually, he could hear the rustling, noise made by the nocturnal animals that, like he once did, used the dark hours as their cover from those they feared or those that were their prey. But tonight he could not. Their instincts, just as animal as some of his own, had made them avoid the area around him. Only the brave, desperate or foolish would remain.

Angel took another step forward, and, as the grass crushed loudly under the soles of his shoes, inwardly cursed that naturalistic instinct which he had just been musing over. Every sound he made seemed to cause more noise than it usually did. Had travelling over the world, or living with a slayer or, even his soul cost him the ability to move ghostlike through the night? Or was he simply getting old?

Rationally he knew it was none of those answers. The truth, the real answer, was that his sudden inability to be noiseless, a trait inherent in vampires; was nerves. It was a strange and unusual sensation. For the third time in two hundred and forty-two years he was nervous.

Again, it was not a state of nerves he was used to. Each time in the past had been completely different from this time. The first was that night when he had been following someone, only to turn into a seemingly deserted alley, before being knocked flat on his back, as both his body and his heart were assaulted.

The second, also involved the person who had caused the first, as he stood before her, watching her as she offered all of herself to him, heart, mind, body and soul. Both times, there had been only constant concern in his mind; that he would never hurt her by letting his soul answer the siren call of her own.

This third time was utterly different. True, he was facing an enemy, but unlike the first, the enemy would never become the keeper of his unbeating heart. Unless he was in to keeping body parts as souvenirs of his victory..... Angel hurriedly shook that thought from his mind.

Silently he wished Buffy was with him. She had wanted to come, had argued for it until the last, but then had been forced to surrender. He had wanted her to come as well, even if just as backup, but he too had been shot down. This was his fight, and his fight alone.

Cautiously he advanced another step, feeling anything but reassured as he turned to let his back feel the rough stone wall of the building he was about to enter.

Not far to go. Another few steps and he would be inside. Facing his destiny. This is your fight, Whistler had said. The time for him to find out who he really was. Everything that had happened, everything that had made him, everything that he was, had brought him to this moment.

He reached the corner, and turned to face the door. Now he was as silent as the night around him, as he stepped forward and grabbed the handle before him.

Slowly, he opened the door and walked inside.

Some hours earlier......

"There are moments in your life that make you, that set the course for who you're gonna be. Sometimes they're little, subtle moments. Sometimes they're not."

"And your point is?" Cordelia asked.

Whistler shot a mild glare of annoyance at the source of the interruption, then he paused, took a deep breath, and continued. "Bottom line is, even if you see them coming you're not ready for the big moments. No one asked for their life to change, not really, but it does. So what are we? Helpless? Puppets?"

He shook his head. "Nah. The big moments in life are gonna come, you can't help that, its what you do afterwards that counts. That's when you find out who you are." He turned to his friend. "And tonight, Angel, its yours."

He chuckled. "A few months back, none of us, including the Powers That Be, were sure that you were gonna make it." he glanced at Jenny Calendar. "That curse your ancestors dreamt up sure was something. We all thought was it permanent, until one us thought to check the future and discovered that all our plans had gone to hell. Literally. So we did what we could and sent you," he looked to Buffy, "your dream. Then we had to wait an anxious set of months to see which vamp would take up Acathla. Fortunately one did."

"Fortunately!?!" Willow queried. "Xander was our friend!"

"Yeah, well with Druscilla gone we didn't have that many options."

"In that, case why did you let the Judge be found?" Giles asked.

"Because, if Angel's curse had been permanent, and he and the chosen one had lingered just a little longer at the docks, allowing for their henchmen to attack you retrieve the arm, you would have had your moment of happiness without switching sides, she and Spike would still be alive when you defeated the Judge, then Angel would have killed Druscilla when she released Acathla, sending Spike away, only to return later as..." Whistler trailed off. "Well, none of this is important now. And time is of the essence."

He took his hands out from behind his back., revealing a sword in one of them. "This is the weapon that will defeat Xandus and Acathla." He stepped forward and handed it to Angel. "Come, my friend. We must prepare."

"For what?" Kendra asked.

"For the fight of his life."

Angel gripped that sword now, as he advanced cautiously into the large reception room. He saw instantly why Xander, correction, Xandus, had chosen this place to perform the ritual that would make Acathla suck the world into hell. The walls were stone, the ceiling high, the architecture while contemporary, grand and harking of ancient times. And with two lit torches in two of the corners, it leant a whole atmosphere to the place was entirely appropriate for the awakening of a demon from the dead.

Instinctively his senses came alive, his eyes glancing around the room, taking in everything inside it. From where he was standing, it looked empty, but something told him not to believe that. He advanced another step forward.

His suspicions were soon proved to be correct. The room was anything but empty. As his eyes adjusted fully to the light once more, he saw that stone statue stood near the far wall, in the middle of the two tall torches.

Acathla.

Keeping the arm that held the sword raised and ready for strike, Angel walked further into the room. He came to a halt before the statue. It was strange. He knew the statue was presently still lifeless, for the sword was still inside it, but some aspect of its power still remained, like an aura, drawing you towards it. Even though his soul was firmly in reign of his body, he could still feel the demon inside him marvelling over the power and possibilities.

"Truly amazing, isn't it?"

Angel turned around as soon as he heard the voice. He refrained from reply, preferring to watch, as his nemesis advanced into the room.

Xandus came to a halt beside him, gazing at the statue. "All the power, to suck the world into hell, contained in this one statue. All one has to do is pull out he sword and then..." he smiled. "You can sense it too, can't you, Angelus? The aura of a sleeping dragon, waiting to be woken." He turned to him. "Fancy joining me in the welcoming committee?"

"I would never work with you," Angel answered, gripping his sword, wishing he had beheaded him while he was still gazing at Acathla. A part of him feared that the moment might have been his only chance for victory.

"Oh but you have," Xandus countered. "When the slayer was drowning in that pool in the Master's caves."

"That wasn't you."

"True. I would have left her to die." He paused and opened his hand out to Angel. Blood wept from the large slice in the middle. "Ready for the duel?"

Buffy shifted herself in her seat, took a glance at the clock on the library wall, and then wished she had not. Barely a minute had passed since she last looked at the time, and the situation was still the same.

She hated waiting. As a slayer, and as a girl deeply concerned for the well-being and safety of her boyfriend. For the first time in a long while she felt helpless. At this moment she felt her desire to be a normal girl completely destroyed. Though it would not do anything to change the circumstances she was now in.

He had been gone half an hour. Only half an hour. She had thought their separation before this was bad, but now she realised it was nothing compared to this. Not that she had any doubt of his abilities in a fight, but so many things hanged on this one turning out right, not just the fate of the world.

Whistler should not have told him, she decided. Now that knowledge would be in the back of his mind, a possibility to contemplate, to think about, when he should focus on defeating the vampire and saving the world.

And not just any vampire. Xander. True, he had not exactly been a friend of Angel, in fact the two of them had been at odds most of the time. But that did not make a difference. Ever since that time of the Master's attempt at rising out of his cave kingdom to rule the hellmouth, when she had woken up in Angel's arms, to find Xander the other side of her, she had noticed something between them, that had not been there before.

A bond emerged, not one of friendship, but one of toleration, because of a time when they had recognised the need for each other's assistance, and had worked together to bring her back. At least, she believed, that was how Angel saw it. As for Xander, she was less certain. Her 'dance' with him awhile ago probably had not helped matters.

Xandus, she knew, would retain the memory of those times, and use them to undermine Angel during the fight. And Angel, despite all his calmness, all his strength, was vulnerable to that kind of attack.

Which was why she feared this fight more than any other. If it was just an ordinary vampire, Buffy would have almost no doubt that he could win, for he was the strongest one she had known that still survived. But against Xandus...... She shied away from finishing that sentence and glanced at the clock once more.

Thirty-five minutes now.

He should not have told him.

The past once more.......

"You've improved," his opponent said with some surprise.

Angel exchanged a glance with Buffy as he answered. "Training with a slayer will do that to you," he remarked, before the moving his hand to let the swords clash, metal upon metal, to strike again.

"There's something you should know," Whistler replied after another minute of duelling. "But I'm not sure if I should tell you, or leave you discover it yourself."

"What does it relate to?"

"What happens if you win this fight."

Angel stopped, putting the point of sword on the tiled floor. "Tell me."

"Shanshu," Whistler remarked.

"That word sounds familiar."

"It should be. This is your chance Angel. Your redemption."

The word was such a surprise that the souled vampire held the sword midway, stopping from beginning the duel once more. "So soon?"

"Time is relative, my friend," Whistler replied. "At least it is when you're immortal, but since, if you win, you won't be, I guess you don't need to worry about that anymore."

"You're saying," Buffy began as she entered the conversation, "that if Angel wins he will become human?"

"Yes."

One glance at the blood, and Angel knew he had very little time. Yet he hesitated from making the first move.

"Come on, Angelus," Xandus remarked, "you've been waiting for this moment. You hated asking for my help when the slayer lay dying in your arms."

"It wasn't you," Angel replied, carefully putting himself between his opponent and Acathla. "And I could not do anything else."

"True," Xandus grinned. "Well, what about that time when she was dancing with me in the Bronze?"

Angel shook his head. "This won't work. I'm over that."

"Are you?"

"I remember whose arms she ended up in, at the end of that time." Angel struck. It was only a glancing blow, but it was enough.

Xandus turned and grabbed the nearest thing to hand; the runner beneath their feet. He pulled it out from under them, sending both to the floor. Then he leapt over his opponent.

Angel jumped to his feet and turned, just as Xandus' hand reached the sword in case in stone. There was no time to prevent him from drawing it out.

The ground shook around them, as the hellmouth recorded its moment of victory. Then Xandus smiled and held up the weapon. "My Excalibur. Now we're evenly matched."

He struck, and the metal clanged as it met with Angel's sword. Angel pushed the resistance further. "Are we? Well I hope you remember what happened to that sword. A watery grave."

"Can't see one around here, can you?" Xandus lowered the sword, retracted it, then rapidly put it over Angel's and the weapons clashed again.

"No, but I see fire." As he spoke Angel neared one of the torches, and with a deft move of his foot, sent it crashing between them, the head of fire head directly for his opponent.

The flames intensified and he jumped clear. The torch crashed to the floor the same time as he.

But Xander, or rather the vampire that now controlled his body, was unharmed. He rose from the ground. and kicked the torch towards Angel. "Fire can hurt you too, you know."

Angel jumped away, and took a glance at the statue. A small circle was forming in front of Acathla, the entryway. He didn't have much time.

Xandus saw the direction and laughed. "You can't stop me Angelus! Its too late! Soon the world will meet hell, and the Old Ones will reclaim the earth as their kingdom."

They circled each other, moving around the room. Angel kept his sword ready, waiting for the right moment. When it came, he rushed forward and struck with the sword.

The weapon hit Xandus' body, sending him up against Acathla. Just as the vortex began to close, sucking the vampire who had opened it into hell, Angel grabbed the stake which had been resting in his jacket pocket, and put it through the heart.

The Hellmouth groaned in defeat, while the night slowly came back to life.

Apocalypse had passed.

>>>>>>>>

"Penny for them."

She smiled and leaned against him. "I was thinking about what you had to do, and wondering what I would have done if given the same choice."

"I'm grateful that you didn't. Its hard to kill, especially someone you used to know."

"But it had to be done."

"Yes it did. But does that answer make it any easier for all of us?" He tightened his embrace around her body. "Willow, Cordelia, you, barely had any time to mourn him."

"I'm not sure we ever truly knew him. Even Willow. None of us could know what was in his head that day he ran out during the swim team thing. He would have recognised the threat."

"But the wonder is whether he choose to ignore it, or had no choice?"

"You're right. I can't stop thinking about that."

"Neither can I."

"Guys?"

The coupled turned round at the sound of the voice. "Cordy?"

"Doyle had a vision. We've a case on our hands."

"We'll be with you in a minute." They watched her go, then Angel turned to her once more. "Just remember. If he had not gone out, the move from Sunnydale to L.A., the start of Giles' Investigations, would never have happened."

"And Kendra would not be the new guardian of the hellmouth," Buffy smiled. "We better not keep them waiting."

The couple kissed, then walked out of the room to carry on with their new lives.

The End.