Wrote a little more of Chapter 7 (see below). However, I seem to have gotten stuck. Will have to do some brainstorming before I go on. I hope everyone has a nice weekend.

-Kirsten

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Chapter Eight

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Angel, or Charmed.

Summary:

Chapter Eight

Part One

Angel looked Giles carefully in the eye. He knew that Giles needed to know what he knew, or what he believed to be true. But he wasn't sure how to begin. And what good would come of knowing? After all, there was not much to be done. It would be safer to just lock yourself in a bomb shelter until it was over - from what he knew of the process.

"Well?" Giles repeated. This silence of Angel's was really starting to disturb him. Not that the vampire was normally that conversational, but there was something foreboding about his attitude. Not just that he wouldn't like was he going to be told - no, it would be much, much worse he was sure.

Angel tried to give Giles a comforting look - but all he managed to do, it seemed, was alarm the Watcher even more. He chuckled quietly and took a deep (and unnecessary) breath to begin. "Perhaps I should start with the demon. About his origin. Do you have any idea of what sort of demon he is?"

About bloody time, Giles thought to himself. Now we can get some answers. "I didn't recognize the type. I've been looking through the indexes…"

"Haven't found it yet, have you? And you won't. Those indexes are only good for one sort of evil."

Giles frowned. One sort of evil? "What on earth are you on about Angel? If the demon isn't in the book, it's because no one ever documented it."

Angel shook his head. This was going to take a while. It did surprise him that Angel didn't know about them. From what he had heard over the centuries, he would've thought that the Watchers knew about them. "I am surprised Giles. I really had thought the Watchers knew about the Underworld."

"The Underworld? As in Hell?" Giles chuckled. "I'm surprised at you, Angel. That's just a fabrication made by Man to…"

"No. It isn't. You know yourself from experience that legends, fairy tales, myths… they all have a kernel of truth at their heart. Hansel and Gretel, remember?"

Giles froze. Angel was right. There could be a kernel of truth to the myth of the Underworld, Hell, Hades - whatever you wanted to call it. "Bloody hell. Are you saying he's… he's Satan? And that the Council knew about this?"

Now, it was Angel's turn to chuckle. "No, not Satan. I believe there is a head demon. But, I rather think this Cole is not him."

"And the Council? Are you sure they knew?"

"No. It's just that from legends - myths - that I heard of the origin of the Slayer, I assumed that…"

Giles bolted upright. "What. The. Hell. Are. You. Talking. About?"
Part Two

She was glorious, truly glorious, he thought. Cole was seated in a chair next to the window, his long legs crossed at the ankles, just watching her. Waiting. He'd convinced her not to call her friends or throw him out. So, now he was just waiting. And feeling. She didn't suppress or camouflage or even ward her energies. It was in continuous flux - ebbing and flowing and extending from her all the time. It was frustrating, aggravating, and enticing him all at the same time. He was continually struggling to keep his own dark energies from reaching out to contact hers. He had heard what had happened to demons that weren't too careful with dark witches before. He intended to be careful and successful.