Cordelia fanned the front of her loose white tank top and leaned out
the open window. It didn't help. If anything, it was even hotter
outside than inside if that could be imagined.

"God, we need air conditioning." She complained, "I can NOT work
under these conditions."

Doyle observed her with raised eyebrows from behind a sturdy desk,
his feet propped up on a chair. He was wearing a colorful pair of
baggy Hawaiian shorts and a sweat dampened white undershirt.

"Funny," he smirked, "The only work I seen you do all day was buff
your nails and make a nifty little chain out of all our paper clips."
Whirling one end of the chain like a lasso, he launched it at her.

Cordelia caught it and threw it petulantly on the floor.

"I'd have more to do if we actually had some business once in a
while. And you're not helping anything by lounging around looking
like you live in a trailer park." She gestured distastefully in his
direction, "People want to work with style, not . . .sweat."

"Well, pardon me for tryin' ta cool off a little." He waved his arms
wide, "I guess it's not a big concern for an ice queen like yerself."

The brunette languished on the windowsill, "All I'm saying is it's
almost payday and, by the look of things, there isn't going to be a
pay."

"Relax, Princess. We've only been in business for two weeks now."
Doyle reminded her, "Angel'll drum up some cash soon enough. Until
then, we'll just have to make due with the love and appreciation of
those we help."

"Yeah, well, love and appreciation is great for you guys." She rolled
her eyes, "Damsels in distress abound in the seedy underbelly of LA.
Now, a handsome prince with a pocket full of cash and a demon
problem? THAT'S hard to come by."

Angel climbed out of the hatch that led down to the sewer tunnels and
headed straight for the medicine cabinet. There was a rip in the arm
of his black, long sleeved shirt and a shallow cut in the flesh
underneath. Digging out a small roll of bandages, he began to dress
the wound.

"Hey." He greeted them both without looking up, "Any calls while I
was out?"

"Sorry, nothing." Cordelia sighed, "I think this heat is too much
even for evil."

The door buzzer rang in the other room.

Angel, Doyle and Cordelia all looked expectantly at one another. The
buzzer rang again. The moments ticked by and the buzzer repeated
several times until Cordelia finally jumped to her feet with a harsh
sigh.

"Doesn't ANYone know how to make an appointment?" she complained,
stalking across to the next room.

She twisted the knob and jerked the door open. Standing in the
doorway was an attractive young man with auburn hair and peculiar
green eyes. Looking closer, she noted tiny halos of gold encircling
his pupils. He was dressed in tailored black pants, black shoes and a
white, long-sleeved cotton shirt.

"Is this Angel Investigations?" he asked, looking her over
uncertainly.

Cordelia arched a fine eyebrow at the young man. She thought she
detected an unidentifiable, exotic inflection to his voice. Hm,
European, maybe?

"Hello, Handsome Prince!" she beamed, "You've come to the right
place. Come in, come in."

Grasping his hand, she tugged him inside, leading him through the
waiting room and into the office. Knocking Doyle's feet off the chair
they were propped on, she pointed covertly to the auburn-haired young
man.

"See, Doyle," she whispered, "Style."

Doyle bounced to his feet with a wide grin on his face.

"Gabriel?" he asked incredulously, "I haven't seen you in months.
Where've ya been?"

"You KNOW him?" Cordelia gawked.

"Of course!" Doyle scoffed, "We used to be drinkin' buddies when I
lived in Scotland."

"I thought you were Irish." she frowned incredulously.

"I am." He shrugged slightly, "Can't a guy go on vacation?"

"Vacation from what? Drinking and lounging?" Cordelia looked more
disbelieving than ever, "And you two used to hang out?"

"Oh, yeah." He nodded happily, "Gabriel and I go way back."

"Not that far back." the young man raised a staying hand and smiled
weakly, "And it was more the drinking part than the buddy part. A
lot's changed since then, Doyle."

While in Scotland, Gabriel had lived a reckless and self-destructive
life, rebelling against an unstable and trying youth, before the
events of the last four months had opened his eyes. The only real
recollection he had of Doyle was a bleary memory where he had knocked
the unfortunate man out in a drunken stupor after recognizing his
dual nature with the Second Sight.

"Lemme tell ya, Angel." Doyle continued, turning to the vampire
undaunted, "You're lookin' at the finest street scrapper in alla
downtown Edinburgh."

"I know him already, Doyle." Angel grumbled darkly, holding the young
man's eyes steadily with his own. Gabriel stared back, impassively,
his hands folded calmly before him.

"It doesn't take a detective to figure out that there's some bad
blood here." Cordelia commented, her interest piqued.

"We've met before." Angel nodded, folding his arms across his
chest, "In Sunnydale."

"Oh my God, YOU lived in Sunnydale?" Cordelia exclaimed to Gabriel
excitedly, "I used to live in Sunnydale. This is SUCH a coincidence.
I can't believe I don't remember you. I mean -" she paused, meeting
Angel's tolerant stare, "Oh, sorry. Didn't mean to interrupt your
tense moment. Carry on."

Angel's eyes turned back to Gabriel accusingly, "You left her."

"So did you." Gabriel's posture became a fraction more threatening
and his voice held a mild edge.

"I had my reasons." The vampire's face tightened, "You were supposed
to stay with her, watch over her when I couldn't be there."

"I had my reasons, too." Gabriel's green eyes narrowed, "And she
doesn't need anyone to watch over her. She's strong enough to take
care of herself."

"She?" Doyle questioned, looking back and forth between the two
men, "What she? You two lads didn't come to blows over some little
filly, did ya?" Angel's glare brought the half-demon up short, "Oh,
THAT she."

Cordelia stood next to the auburn-haired young man and inspected him
with her discerning eye.

"Buffy?" she made a disbelieving face, "Buffy Summers? You're kidding
me, right? What is it about being a walking death threat that turns
guys on?"

Angel eyed her for a moment before returning his attention to
Gabriel.

"Why are you here?" the vampire asked him plainly, turning a chair
around and sitting in it backwards, folding his arms sharply over its
back.

Gabriel shrugged, "Word on the street is that this is the place to
come to when you're in trouble."

"You're in trouble?" Judging by the look on his face, it was obvious
that Angel was doubtful, "Forget it. You're capable of taking care of
yourself. I'm here to help those who aren't so lucky."

"No, that's not it." Gabriel shook his head, "I want to work for
you."

Doyle and Cordelia looked to each other in surprise and Angel jerked
to a standing position, nearly toppling his chair.

"No way." he declared hotly, "You are NOT working here."

"I'm not looking for a paycheck." the young man argued, "I only want
to help people."

Angel turned his back to the young man and folded his arms across his
chest. He understood what Gabriel was asking. He even sympathized
with his request. But three months ago, the young man had touched the
heart of his beloved Buffy, gotten close to her emotionally in a way
that had disturbed Angel despite the fact that he knew he was soon
going to be leaving for LA. He wasn't sure he wanted a reminder of
that so close to home.

"Think about it, Angel." Doyle suggested, "He could be a real help,
especially during the daylight hours. Kind of like the Robin to your
Batman. With two of you out there, we could help a lot more people."

Helping people. That's what it all came down to in the end. After all
the petty jealousies and personal feelings were accounted for, at the
end of the day what mattered most was whether someone's life was a
little better for having crossed his path.

"All right." he relented, "For now. But if you pull another Jekyll
and Hyde like you did in Sunnydale, that's it, you're out."

Gabriel's face darkened and his mouth tightened. Doyle and Cordelia
each frowned in confusion.

"That won't happen again." The young auburn-haired man stated
resolutely, "I'll prove it to you. I promise."

"So now that we've added another mouth to feed to our meager
payroll," Cordelia arched a finely kept eyebrow at Angel, "how are
you going to take care of things around here?"

Doyle lurched forward, leaning heavily on the desk, "I-I think I got
that one covered." Collapsing forward, he writhed, wide-eyed and
convulsing and a long strangled moan shook from his lips.

"What's wrong?" Cordelia cried, crouching helplessly beside his
twitching form as he slid to the floor, "I've never seen him get this
bad before. Shouldn't we get a spoon or something so he doesn't
swallow his tongue?"

"I don't know." Angel gripped Doyle's shoulders, "Try and hold him
down until the vision passes."

Doyle slumped sharply onto the floor and lay still, jamming his eyes
shut. As Angel released him, his hands flew to the sides of his head
and he sat up.

"Uhhh," he groaned, "Aspirin manufacturers must just love me. Bring
me a bottle." As Cordelia brought him a plastic bottle of small,
white pills, he shoved her hand away, "No, no, the OTHER bottle."

Angel pressed an open bottle of scotch into his hand and he took a
long draw on it.

"Ah, better." Doyle sighed, "I think my skull finally stopped tryin'
ta squish my brain."

"What did you see?" Angel hovered close by.

"I don't know." Doyle shook his head and blinked a few times, "This
one was different, like I was getting a bunch of visions at once."

"Cool, like cable." Cordelia's smile fell somewhat, "I miss cable."

"More like a party line in my head." Doyle struggled to his feet and
picked up a piece of paper and a pen, "I got a vague impression that
it had something to do with the number seven, but the rest is a mess.
This could take a while to sort out."

"We might not have a while." Angel pulled on his long, black
coat, "I'm going to comb the dark spaces until sundown, see what I
can pick up."

"I'll hit the streets." Gabriel offered, following suit.

"Wait a minute. Hold on." Angel shook his head in negation, "You're
just starting here. You're not ready to jump right into things yet."

"You have something else for me to be doing?" Gabriel regarded the
vampire seriously.

When Angel didn't answer, the young man headed for the door, "Then I
guess I'll cover the streets."

"I'll check out anything significant I can find about the number
seven and try and make a connection while Doyle sorts this out."
Cordelia smiled in Gabriel's direction, "Good luck."

Angel paused for a moment, watching his newest employee out of the
corner of his eye, then opened up the hatch in the floor and dropped
down.

Gabriel stood in the open doorway, one hand on the knob.

"I'll check back in a few hours." he called, closing the door behind
him.

* * *

Angel stormed through the tunnels, tension bristling in every fiber
of his body. Seven, that's all Doyle could figure out. Not much to go
on, but it was enough for Angel. Gabriel was the Seventh Son of a
Seventh Son. What were the chances of him showing up in LA just
minutes before Doyle had a vision about sevens? None, unless he was
the cause of it.

The boy had potential, incredible potential if the stories were true,
but Angel was wary. Potential could be a very dangerous thing without
direction and Gabriel had already proven that he could be erratic and
unreliable. It would be an easy thing for someone with his power to
start preying on people instead of protecting them. As a suspect, he
was definitely worth checking out.

It only took him a few minutes to figure out where the boy was going
and match his movements. The sunlight promised to keep him confined
to the sewers, but he would still be able to follow Gabriel almost
anywhere he went. He followed him along the boulevard, pausing
whenever the boy stopped to talk to someone.

Admittedly, Angel's experience with Gabriel had been limited and he
knew very little about him. The boy wasn't much of a detective, that
was for sure. The questions he asked were about as subtle as a
sledgehammer and left more than a little room for interpretation.
Fortunately, he had an open, friendly charisma that seemed to make
people want to help him. In LA, people like him usually got eaten
alive.

Maybe that's what Buffy had seen in him, Angel considered. He tried
not to think of her, as he had grown accustomed to doing, but it was
not easy. Gabriel's arrival had stirred up feelings that he had hoped
to bury for the good of the world.

Angel watched from the shadows as the Seventh Son met up with a late
afternoon streetwalker. The dark-eyed girl smiled and took him by the
hand, leading him into a towering office building, which housed,
among other things, a hotel and a nightclub. Angel's brow furrowed. A
prostitute? Granted, the young man had made some foolish decisions in
his past, but from what Angel knew of him, he expected better.
Gabriel did, however, have a history of drug abuse and from what
Doyle had said, he enjoyed his liquor, as well. To Angel's
experience, one vice tended to lead to others. He couldn't help but
feel a little disappointed. He was glad now that Gabriel had left
Sunnydale when he did. Having someone like that around Buffy would
cause her nothing but trouble.

He would have to make a point to get more information out of Doyle
when he got back to the office.

* * *

Cordelia reclined on a plush loveseat and flipped absently through
the pages of a brown-stained book. Three electric fans directed flows
of just slightly cooler air at her from three different angles.
Slumped in a hard-backed chair, Doyle sat in front of Angel's
computer, combing the internet, pausing from time to time to dab his
forehead with a wet cloth.

"So what's he like?" Cordelia queried casually without looking up
from her perusal.

"What's who like?" Doyle raised his eyebrows questioningly.

"You know, your friend with the sexy eyes." Again, her tone was as
casual as if she were discussing the weather.

"Sexy eyes?" he smirked crookedly, "You mean Gabriel? I don't think
he's really your type."

"What do you mean 'not my type'?" she regarded him dubiously over the
top of her book, "He's tall, good-looking and a nice dresser. Of
COURSE, he's my type."

Doyle shifted uneasily in his seat and rubbed the sweat off the back
of his neck, "Sure, on the outside, he looks fine, but on the inside,
he's a mess. Always drinkin', fightin', getting into ALL kinds of
trouble."

Cordelia peered at him from under a pair of fine, chestnut
eyebrows, "So what you're saying is that he's like you only taller,
better looking and with a nicer wardrobe. I'm guessing his wallet
sees a bit more strain than yours, too."

"Well . . . yeah, I guess you could look at it that way." Doyle
dropped his eyes to the floor.

The front door opened and Gabriel entered. He was now wearing a navy
blue V-neck shirt and a pair of charcoal gray pants with a black
leather belt.

"Hey." He smiled a greeting, closing the door behind him.

"Hey, yourself." Cordelia winked playfully, "You changed. Nice."

Gabriel looked down at himself a little self-consciously.

"Yeah," he smirked, "Is . . .is Angel back yet?"

"He checked in a few minutes ago." Doyle nodded, "Got a call from
some cop friend of his and said he won't be in until later."

"Cop friend?" Gabriel inquired, a slight line forming between his
brows.

"Yeah," he shrugged, "a detective, I think."

"Damn." The auburn-haired young man sighed, sinking down on the end
of the loveseat, "I didn't learn a thing while I was out. You two
didn't find anything useful, did you?"

Doyle suppressed a small surge of jealousy as Cordelia slid across
the seat and sidled up to the young man.

"We found a ton." She grinned proudly, holding up a page covered in
scrawling pen marks, "I don't know how much of it will be worth
anything, but this is the best of it."

"There are seven major archangels in heaven." She recited from the
page, "Michael, Raphael, Urial, Raguel, Sarial, Jarahmeel and, tah-
da . . . Gabriel."

Doyle inclined his head toward the auburn-haired young man, "Friends
of yours?"

"They're my brothers, actually." He nodded softly, "My father
apparently planned on having seven of us right from the beginning."

"Six brothers?" Cordelia cooed with interest, "Are they all as
handsome as you?"

Doyle fixed her with a tedious expression, "Hey Princess, you ever
think about trying ta be a little more obvious, once in a while. I'm
sure you might be able to pull off if you put your mind to it."

Cordy rolled her eyes and gave a short, exasperated sigh, "Beating
around the bush is for losers and those who do without. The Chase
family motto says if you see something you want, you go get it."

"Isn't that how your Dad ended up in jail?" he chuckled.

"Just shut up and show him what you've got." She scowled at him and
jabbed a finely manicured finger in his direction.

Doyle favored her with a half-forced smile and leaned across the
desktop. He couldn't help but needle her. Seeing the fire in her eyes
was just too enticing. Yet another one of his guilty pleasures.

"I found a little on everyone's favorite, the seven deadly sins." He
tapped the computer screen with a hard fingernail, "Greed, Gluttony,
Pride, Lust, Sloth, Wrath and Envy. I think I know a few a these
fellas personally."

"No doubt." Cordelia added with a roll of her eyes, "We also have the
seven saving graces."

"Mercy," she said, beginning a list.

"Got it." Doyle held up the index finger on his right hand.

"Grace,"

"Nope." Doyle smirked.

"Faith,"

"Comes and goes." He held up another finger.

"Prudence,"

"Not around this crazy place." He shook his head with a snicker.

"Chastity," she eyed him dubiously,

"Not on yer life, honey." He winked broadly at her and she shook her
head in exasperation.

"Hope"

"Ever and always." He added a third finger to his tally.

"and Charity." She waited for Doyle's comment and he just stared at
her silently.

"Oh, come on." He laughed out loud, "Do you even have to ask?"

"You SO have no class." She groaned and rolled her eyes again.

Gabriel leaned forward and smiled at the two of them.

"Nothing solid, huh? Maybe we should keep looking." he cocked his
head and spread his hands, "At least until Angel gets back?"

Cordy snuggled up against his arm and laid her book across both their
laps.

"Here, we can share." She smiled, holding his green eyes with her
dark brown ones with calculated demureness.

"Um, sure." He answered uncertainly, "I guess."

Doyle raised his eyebrows and sighed, shaking his head and slipping
back behind the computer monitor.

* * *

Angel entered the lobby of the Seventh Street Tower and pushed
through a throng of onlookers. Yellow police tape cordoned off the
elevators and stairs and the hotel staff was busy doing their best to
move along the curious bystanders. A heavily made-up woman with
short, reddish hair squared off fearlessly with a broad-shouldered
cop. She was dressed in an unbelievably short leather skirt and a
filmy, see-through halter, leaving little doubt about her occupation.
The cop continued to block her from reaching the stairway and she
shook her small fist in his face threateningly. Angel couldn't hear
what she was saying, but he doubted it was anything friendly. She
finally surrendered and turned sharply on a five-inch heel, stalking
toward the exit.

Angel watched her steadily as she stalked past and she flipped an
obscene gesture in his face, glaring at him with hard, green eyes.

He ignored the insult and turned away, hanging close to the entrance,
in shadows, until he spotted Kate across the room. She noticed him
too and quickly made her way through to meet him.

"I was wondering when you'd show up." She smiled a bit uneasily.

"I came as soon as I got your call." He answered, his hands pushed
tightly into the pockets of his long, black coat, "What happened?"

"Place is a circus. It's probably better if I just show you." She
inhaled a deep breath and released it slowly, "We can take the
service stairs. Hope the sight of blood doesn't turn your stomach."

"No." he said, ducking under a line of police tape and following her
up a narrow stairwell, "That's never been a problem for me."

They went up seven flights of stairs and came out into a long,
carpeted corridor. The scent of blood was overpowering, filling the
entire floor like a thick blanket. Fortunately, Angel had fed well
from his supply of animal blood recently, so the craving it awakened
in him was manageable.

As Kate walked slowly down the hallway, Angel trailed behind her.

"You're not supposed to be up here, so we'll have to make this
quick." She explained, coming to a wide, open doorway where the blood
smell was strongest.

Angel poked his head inside and his face fell slack with shock.

Police officers and photographers milled about, carefully documenting
the scene in a subdued and practiced manner. Two lab technicians
wearing long white coats stood on either side of the bed in the
center of the room, collecting bits of evidence with tweezers and
sealing them in individual plastic bags. A woman's corpse was lain
neatly atop the bed, pale and cold looking, the sheets underneath her
drenched with an enormous amount of blood. The body had been
brutalized with surgical precision and arranged like some gruesome
offering. Angel had seen, even committed, worse, but not by much. He
turned his eyes away in revulsion.

Kate nodded sympathetically, "There are seven wounds on the body, all
exacting and targeting different body parts. Whoever it was stabbed
her in the heart, the stomach, the head and the throat then cut out
her eyes, removed her hands and mutilated her genitals. Guys at the
morgue are gonna just love this one. We're dealing with one sick
puppy here."

"Seven wounds?" Angel repeated softly.

"Yeah." Kate nodded, "Looks like it might be cult work. Or else
someone who wants to make it look that way. There are indications of
sevens all over the place. Seventh floor, room seven-o-seven, hell,
the TV was even left on channel seven. But there's something else I
want you to take a look at."

Directing him to the bathroom, she indicated the inside wall of the
shower. Words were scrawled in thick blood on the tile, smeared, but
still readable.

"Embrace the Seventh, Angel." He read aloud, aghast, and stumbled
back into the main room. Faced with the sight of the dead girl again,
he drew up short and shuddered.

Angel stared, mesmerized, at the dead girl's eyeless face. He hadn't
realized it at first, but he recognized her. It was the prostitute he
had seen Gabriel with earlier. Dread turned in his stomach as his
suspicion deepened.

"I had a feeling this might be too much for you. I'm sorry." Kate
apologized, following him out, "But you're the only Angel I know, so
I figured I'd take a shot and see if you might know something.
Angel?" she nudged his shoulder gently, "Are you alright?"

"Clean." He muttered, tearing his eyes away from the corpse.

"Excuse me?" Kate raised her eyebrows and smiled in confusion.

"Clean." He repeated, "All the wounds have been cleaned, but the bed
is a mess. The killer wanted to make sure we didn't miss the
significance of the wounds."

"So it's a message." Her lips tightened, considering the
implications, "Just like the one in the bathroom. Who do you think
this Seventh could be?"

"I can't be sure, but I might have an idea." He frowned, stroking his
chin in agitated thought as a fat policeman squeezed past him.

"Care to share it with me?" she smirked crookedly.

Something small caught his eye, a rectangular card positioned
squarely on the corner of a writing desk and emblazoned with a bright
yellow logo. He could have sworn it hadn't been there a few seconds
ago. Leaning with his hand against the top of the desk for a moment,
he palmed the card and secretly slipped it into his pocket.

"Not yet. It's just a hunch." Angel walked past Kate and headed
swiftly for the door, "I'll call you when I know for sure."

"Hey, Angel, wait." She tried to stop him, but he was already at the
stairs by the time she turned, "Bye."

The overweight officer paused in his note taking and looked up, his
eyes narrowed and an evil smirk bending his pudgy lips.

* * *

Cordelia leaned on the back of the loveseat, peering over Gabriel's
shoulder and adding another photo to the pile on the book in his lap.

"This is me at cheerleading practice, and this is me at the mall,
don't you just love the way that sundress picks up the highlights in
my hair?"

"Um, sure." He commented uneasily.

"Oh, look, here's me at the prom." She laid down another picture
excitedly, "Don't mind the geek in the tux. Just some English guy who
had this MAJOR crush on me. But considering that dress, I guess you
can't blame him, right? Aren't you English or something, too?"

"Sort of." Gabriel shrugged, gathering up her photos and handing them
back to her, "Don't you think we should get back to researching?"

"All right, fine, whatever you say." She smiled cheerily, slipping
the bundle of photos back into her purse and leaning forward over the
back of the loveseat again. With seeming innocence, she reached out
for the book in his lap to turn a page, brushing the backs of her
fingers across his cheek. Gabriel's eyes flicked to her uncertainly.

"I, uh, I really think I can handle this myself." He smiled weakly.

"Sure." She shrugged unconcerned, reaching out to turn another
page, "But where's the fun in that?"

Doyle groaned loudly and slumped back in his chair, staring angrily
at the computer screen.

"Ugh, this is gettin' us nowhere." He sighed, rubbing at his
eyes, "The only seven I'm findin' now is those little fellas from
Disneyland."

"Oh, I know these!" Cordy exclaimed, "Sleepy, Dopey, um, Bashful,
Happy, Sneezy . . . Doc, and . . . what's the last one?"

"Grumpy." Angel supplied, popping up through the hatch in the floor.

"Why am I not surprised that you knew that?" she watched as he
entered the room.

"Hey, you're back." Doyle stood up and stretched, "How did your
meeting with the lady cop go?"

"Not good." Angel's forehead was knotted in tense thought, "There's
been a murder. At the Seventh Street Tower."

"Seventh Street Tower?" Gabriel looked up from his book in
surprise, "That's where I've been staying."

Angel looked at the boy and his lips tightened. The revelation was
unsurprising, but not comforting at all.

"I also found this." The vampire held out the small card he had
discovered to Doyle.

"Lifting evidence from the scene of a crime? Pretty risky." he
observed, accepting the card and scrutinizing it. The yellow logo
advertised a dance club that was popular with the early twenties set,
a place called the Seventh Heaven, "What's so important about this?
The Seventh Heaven is right in the same building. There's probably
half a dozen of these cards in every room."

"The killer's trying to send a message." Angel informed
him, "Specifically directed at me."

Angel's eyes flicked furtively to the Seventh Son as he related what
he had seen at the murder scene. He purposely left out the fact that
he had recognized the victim. Throughout the explanation, Gabriel
seemed impassive and calm.

"Wow, this sounds like one gruesome customer." Doyle blew out a long
breath, "But at least we have more to go on now."

"Yeah, we've got a psycho with a thing for lucky number seven and
some major woman issues." Cordelia folded her arms across her chest
and sat on the edge of Angel's desk.

"How do you know it's a man?" Gabriel asked quickly, "It might be a
woman behind this."

"No way." Cordelia asserted, "Only someone of the male species could
get that medieval on a person. When a woman gets that angry, she goes
shopping or cries or tears up all her husband's clothes. My mom once
lit my Dad's Mercedes on fire because she caught him staring at the
maid."

"That's very reassuring." Doyle looked at her and shuddered, "And is
it any wonder why you're still single?"

He ignored the sour face Cordelia shot at him and tapped the eraser
end of an unsharpened pencil against his lip thoughtfully.

"Besides, it doesn't sound like this crime was committed out of
anger." he noted, "I'd have to agree with Angel on the message
theory, especially considering what they found in the bathroom." He
regarded Angel seriously, "You don't know anyone who would be tryin'
ta send you a message, do ya?"

Angel shook his head, "No, but I know where we'll probably find out."

"The Seventh Heaven?" Doyle deduced with a smirk.

"Right."

"Oooh, we're going clubbing!" Cordelia sauntered over to Gabriel with
a bright smile, "I've got a party dress that will knock your eyes
out."

"Sorry, Cordy." Angel shook his head again, "You'll have to sit this
one out. We need you here to man the office."

"Man the office?! Something tells me this has more to do with my
being a girl." she griped, dropping onto the loveseat next to Gabriel
and taking hold of his arm sulkily, "This is SO not fair."

Gabriel shifted uneasily, pulling away from her and rising to his
feet.

"So when do we go?" he asked, looking first to Angel and then to
Doyle.

Angel watched the Seventh Son tensely.

"Doyle." The vampire signaled the young man with his hand, "Can I
talk to you outside for a minute?"

"Sure thing." He followed the vampire to the door and out into the
hall.

Angel closed the door behind them and leaned against the wall. He was
in one of his moods again, Doyle knew. Pensive-face, Cordy always
called it. To Doyle, it reminded him of the expression his mother
used to put on when she caught him with his hand in the cookie jar.
Or in other places.

"If this is about that twenty bucks I owe you, that investment is
just about ready to pay off. I'll be able to get you back in a week,
honest." He blurted defensively, then ducked his head
slightly, "Well . . . maybe two."

Angel held up a flat palm, silencing him, "It's not." He held the
young man with his dark eyes, the furrow between his brows
deepening, "How much do you know about Gabriel?"

"Hey, we go way back, ever since -" Doyle began with his salesman's
smile.

"Honestly." Angel's more-serious-than-usual expression meant
business.

"Honest?" Doyle shrank a little, "Not very much. From what I can
remember, he can fight like a tiger and drink like a fish." He leaned
backwards a little and peered at Cordelia through the crack in the
door, "He does okay with the ladies, too."

"Do you think he could kill someone?" the vampire asked carefully.

"What?" Doyle's jaw sagged, "Angel, he's just a kid."

"Doyle, just answer the question." Angel insisted, "I need to know
for sure."

Doyle's gaze shifted from side to side and he swallowed nervously,
ducking his head and staring down at his shoes.

"Doyle?" the vampire pressed relentlessly.

"There was this one time . . .back in Edinburgh." Doyle sighed
sadly, "There was this bruiser, just some guy lookin' to start
trouble, you know the type."

Angel nodded, less than reassured by the tone of Doyle's voice and
the sick look on his face.

"Anyways, this fella started on Gabriel's girl, just makin' an ass of
himself to get the kid to bite, you know? Gabriel had quite a few
brews in him at the time so he took up the gauntlet and met the
meathead outside."

Doyle swallowed again and wiped the back of his hand across his
forehead, "You know, I really don't see how this has to do with
anything. The kid's on our side."

"Doyle." Angel tried to keep his worry from affecting his
voice, "What happened?"

"Gabriel beat him." Doyle shrugged and quelled a shudder, "Beat him
bad. The guy was askin' for it, sure, but he didn't deserve this. But
that's not even the thing that got to me. The kid looked like he
really got over on hurtin' the guy. Gabriel wasn't protecting his
girl, he wasn't protecting himself or his pride. He just wanted to
punish him. Took him apart like it was nothing and the whole time,
his eyes were dead and cold, like he wasn't even there."

"Damn. I was afraid of that." Angel grimaced, balling his hand into a
fist and leaning his back against the wall, "When he was in
Sunnydale, he found out that his father was using chemicals and some
kind of hypnosis to program him."

"Program?" Doyle was stunned, "For what?"

"To be a killer." Angel regarded him gravely, "I saw him with the
girl who was murdered this afternoon."

"Ah, Angel, you don't think . . .?" Doyle let the sentence trail off,
too horrified to continue.

"I hope not." The vampire pushed off the wall and headed for the
stairs, "But he might not even know he's doing it. Who knows what
sort of junk is all tangled up in his head?"

Doyle tapped a finger to his lips, "Then why all the messages? What
could he possibly want with you?"

Angel sighed heavily and stopped, folding his arms across his chest.
His brow was furrowed and tight over his eyes and his jaw became hard
as steel. Doyle waited patiently. Getting personal information out of
Angel was like squeezing blood from a stone. He had learned to wait.

"It's her." The vampire said at last, "When he was in Sunnydale, he
wanted her. He knew about my history with Buffy. Deep down, he might
resent that."

Doyle regarded him with keen interest.

"You speakin' from experience here?" he asked, "I saw the way you
looked at him when he showed up this afternoon. You could've cut the
tension with a knife. You don't suppose you might resent him a
little, too, do you?"

Doyle winced inwardly as he saw the sharp flinch travel across
Angel's face. He had gone too far. Doyle knew it the instant the
words left his mouth. Angel's fleeting moment of openness was
shattered and the vampire stalked swiftly for the stairs.

"We'll find out at the club tonight, one way or the other." He
grumbled bitterly.

Doyle rubbed his hands together tensely and jammed them in his
pockets as he listened to Angel's receding footsteps. Gabriel, a
killer? How could that be? His eyes snapped up and he swiftly walked
back into the office where the young man was alone with Cordelia.

"What happened to you?" she frowned, looking him over
skeptically, "You look like someone died."

"No, Princess." He covered his uneasiness with a carefully practiced
smile, "Not yet, at least." He gestured to Gabriel, "You want to stop
by your place and get anything before we hit the club?"

Any excuse to keep the young man from being alone with Cordy. At
least until they could determine the extent of his involvement with
the murder.

"Sure." The young man agreed.

"Good." Doyle shot one last worried glance in Cordy's direction
before grabbing Gabriel by the arm and leading him hurriedly out the
door, "Let's go."

* * *

Angel was to be the first to enter the club followed by Gabriel and
then Doyle. The two older men had decided to do it that way so that
they could keep an eye on the Seventh Son. Both hoped he would be
exonerated, but were cautious nonetheless.

A towering, brutish looking thug hovered near the mouth of a nearby
alley, tilting his head down and lighting a cigarette. The man
flicked dark hair out of his face and flexed his bare muscled arms,
watching the three young men disdainfully as they passed.

"Nice night." He commented without a trace of sincerity. Holding open
his hand down next to his thigh, he covertly showed them a small
plastic bag filled with an unidentified substance, "You guys up for a
party?"

Doyle eyed the man dubiously and shook his head in negation.

"Forget it. Deal your junk elsewhere, huh?"

The man leered, undaunted, and fixed his hungry gaze on Gabriel.

"What about you, Red?" he smirked darkly, displaying a small
cylindrical bottle in his other hand, "You look like you've popped a
pill or two in your day."

The Seventh Son frowned and held the thug's dark, green eyes as Doyle
veered and positioned himself between them.

"That's quite all right, pal." He assured him with a snort, "We've
got more than enough trouble without you to deal with."

Urging his two companions on, Doyle steered them away from the alley,
shaking his head sadly in disbelief,

"I don't know what's with people like that. It's like they can't have
a good time without poisonin' their bodies." He slowed as they
approached the entrance and clapped his hands, rubbing them together
excitedly, "Now, let's get inside and grab us some beers."

Just as Doyle had expected, the bouncer accepted a ten dollar bill in
lieu of Gabriel's ID without question. Inside, the place was a
panorama of flashing lights and pounding sound. The heat was stifling
and the air was thick and heady with faint incense and the scent of
perfume. Lithe dancers, both male and female, lined the walls inside
glitzy, imitation cages, thrashing relentlessly to the frenetic beat.
Young women dressed in flashy costumes and carrying drink-laden trays
over their heads wove skillfully amongst the patrons.

Most everyone, staff included, was dressed with the heatwave in mind.
Skimpy halter tops and miniskirts were common amongst the women while
the men wore fashionable shorts and tight tank tops. The three of
them stood out like sore thumbs, Angel in his usual black overcoat
and pants, Doyle in a gaudy, buttoned up shirt and Gabriel still
wearing his navy blue V-neck shirt and charcoal pants. Beads of sweat
were already forming on the brows of Doyle and Gabriel while Angel
remained unaffected by the heat.

A slender, tanned blonde girl dressed in an outfit that was little
more than a tasseled bikini bumped up against Angel's chest, grinning
and peering longingly up into his eyes. He ignored her as she
squeezed past, his intense gaze scanning the tight crowd. His eyes
wandered to the dazzling, light jammed stage as the curtains parted
and a tall, brightly garbed man walked through.

The man was naked to the waist and lean to the point of being
leathery, with long, multicolored hair and a round, protruding
potbelly. Lavish make-up decorated his face, forming a green-eyed
demonic mask, complete with a huge painted mouth and teeth. A bright
red cape hung down his back, its corners fastened to bands of gold
encircling his wrists. The man spread his arms wide and threw his
head back with a high-pitched cackle as a starburst of crimson
pyrotechnics exploded around him.

The bizarre performer seemed to single Angel out of the crowd of
hundreds and leered challengingly as the music quickened and he began
to spin and dance around wildly. A slight shudder crawled up the
vampire's spine and he was overrun with a feeling of intense
foreboding.

"I'm going to check out the stage." He called over his shoulder
before pressing into the crowd.

Doyle reached out to hold him back for a moment, but lost sight of
him in the swarm of dancers. He turned back with a helpless smirk, as
Gabriel stared around, grinning and gawking at the sheer sensory
overload. Doyle clapped a hand to the young man's shoulder and smiled
broadly.

"It's a lot to take in, isn't it?" he shouted over the thunderous
music.

"Too much." Gabriel agreed, squinting as a bright flash of light
assaulted his eyes, "How are we supposed to find the killer in all
this?"

Doyle's smile fell a little. After what Angel had suggested in the
hallway outside the office, he wasn't sure what to expect. He hoped
the vampire's theory was wrong.

"Why don't we head up to the bar, toss back a few." He
suggested, "For old times sake."

Gabriel shook his head and leaned closer to his companion, pressing
his fingers into his ears, "I don't drink anymore, Doyle!"

"What!?" Doyle cupped his hand behind his ear.

Gabriel drew in a deep breath and attempted to be heard again over
the blasting music, "I said I don't -!"

A thick column of club-goers wedged between them and pushed them
apart as it cut a swath through the sea of people. Gabriel was drawn
deeper into the crowd and pulled along with the flow toward the
stage. He started to panic a little as he was borne farther away from
one of the only familiar faces he knew in the club. He had to find
Angel, get back to Doyle somehow.

Pulsing music flowed from the direction of the stage, wrapping itself
around him in waves of insinuating energy and the panic inside him
eased. He suddenly didn't care that he was alone in the club, nor was
he concerned about where his companions had gone. He smiled
contentedly and followed the flow of the crowd until he found himself
near the stage amid a group of energetic dancers, all facing the same
direction. There was apparently some kind of show happening on stage,
but he couldn't see what was capturing the attention of the crowd.

The music continued to enfold him, seeping through his skin and into
his bones. He closed his eyes and forgot about Angel, about Doyle,
too, allowing the frantic beat to vibrate pleasantly through him. A
warm, soft body pressed against him and he opened his eyes to find a
slender, dark-haired girl dancing temptingly close with her back
turned to him. She was shapely and attractive, he noted as she
continued to dance, brushing against him occasionally and completely
unaware of the effect the teasing contact was having on him. The
pounding music seemed to recede and his breathing became heavier. A
wave of disorientation washed over him and his heart started beating
like a bass drum in his ears. He wanted her. He had no idea who the
girl was or what she was like, but he wanted her. Badly.

Wiping sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand, he leaned
forward a quarter step and let her bump against the solidity of his
chest. The girl turned around with a quick apology and froze, looking
up at him and caught by his vibrant green eyes.

"Hi." She murmured in a faint voice, a look of wonder softening her
delicate features.

He said nothing, instead taking her by the hand and leading her
deeper onto the dance floor and away from her friends.

Angel lurched forward as a surge of people pushed past him from
behind. Rebounding off a thick-necked bouncer, he stumbled back
again. The crowd was frustrating in its closeness, walls of human
flesh closing in on him from all sides. It offended him, overloading
his senses with blatant humanity. It was all around him, everywhere
he looked, everything he touched, everything he smelled. The
smell . . . Angel gasped desperately, trying to control the sudden
craving inside him. The salt and sweat and blood were so close, so
much, he wasn't sure he could handle it. He pressed his fingers
against the sides of his skull, fighting for control, the relentless
beat of the music thumping like a phantom heart within his empty
lungs.

Through squinted eyes, he saw a familiar face on the dancefloor and
his throat constricted. Graceful and svelte, the blonde danced
rhythmically with her back to him, close to the front of the stage.
Although he could not see her face, her identity was unmistakable.
Buffy.

He shoved desperately through the crowd, regardless of the other club-
goers, heading straight for her. As he approached her, an auburn-
haired young man wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her
deeply, sliding his fingers down over her firm back. She responded
with equal ardor, reaching up and hooking her hands together behind
his neck.

Outrage fired within the vampire's soul, screaming at him to lash out
and protect what was his. Gabriel was doing it again, touching her,
seducing her. His Buffy. His property. Enraged, Angel seized the
young man's wrist.

Gabriel was strong enough to match the vampire's power and resisted
him, a look of irritation on his face.

"Go away, Angel." Gabriel muttered in annoyance, burying his face
into the girl's soft blonde hair, "I'm busy."

"Leave her alone!" the vampire snarled, deep and threatening, "Buffy
is mine!"

Angel grabbed the Seventh Son by the throat and pulled him away from
the girl, a low, lion-like growl rumbling in his throat. She turned
and screamed when she saw his demonic face and fled into the crowd.

Upon viewing the girl from the front, Angel realized that it wasn't
Buffy the boy had been with. For that matter, she wasn't even blonde,
but that wasn't an issue anymore. Gabriel had challenged his claim
and he had no choice but to respond.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" Gabriel grunted through gritted
teeth, straining against the vampire's grip.

"No one touches what's mine!" Angel growled, squeezing against the
boy's windpipe, "No one looks at her and no one touches her but me!"

Gabriel jabbed rigid fingertips into Angel's throat and spun out of
his grip, raising his hands into fighting position.

"You want to fight me, old man?" He snarled, beckoning with an open
hand, rage burning in his gold-on-green eyes, "Come find out how much
I've changed."

Instantly, he lunged forward with a sharp kick aimed at the vampire's
mid-section. Angel slapped the attack aside and smashed a fist into
his opponent's nose. Gabriel shrugged of the blow and landed a short
chop to Angel's chest following with a heavy side kick to his knee.
The vampire staggered and fell, slamming a hard first into the young
man's stomach.

Gabriel skidded backward and crouched over, pressing a hand to his
abdomen. Barreling forward, he tackled Angel, driving him up against
the stage. With the hard wooden edge digging into his back, the
vampire cracked his fist repeatedly into Gabriel's ribs and flipped
them over, baring his fangs. The young man struggled desperately to
hold the vampire's sharp canines at bay as Angel pinned him to the
stage and reached for his throat.

Too much time had passed since Angel had tasted human blood. The need
for it burned like a white-hot flame inside him. He longed to feel
the hot rush of it coursing down his throat, thrumming through his
veins and filling him with life, if only for a while. He crushed the
Seventh Son against him, just one more inch and the sweet elixir
would be his.

Gabriel worked himself partly out of Angel's grip and jammed his
forearm into the vampire's open mouth, crying out in agony as teeth
sliced into his skin and blood flowed. Angel dug his fangs deep into
the flesh, sucking greedily, mindlessly. The Seventh Son shoved his
forearm hard against the vampire's jaw and jerked it free, throwing
Angel back into a nearby table and snapping a kick into the upper
part of his chest.

As the vampire fell to his knees, leaning heavily on the overturned
table, Gabriel picked up a chair and held it high overhead, "I'll
never let you control me again, Father."

Angel had no time to react as the boy brought the chair down, full-
force, shattering it over his head. The blow hurt terribly, setting
off a burst of blinding light before his eyes and setting his head
spinning. But he wouldn't dare let Gabriel get the better of him. He
could never live with the shame.

"You can't take what's mine!" he roared, swinging his fist into
Gabriel's jaw and tackling him to the floor.

Across the club, Doyle relaxed with his back against the bar and his
hand on a pitcher of beer, smiling congenially at the two young women
on either side of him.

"Oh, yeah, honest." He grinned, "In fact, my people and I are here on
an important case right now."

The girls looked to each other and rolled their eyes skeptically, but
made no move to leave.

"So where are your 'people' right now?" one of the two asked with a
smirk as the bartender brought her a fresh pitcher of beer.

Doyle's eyes flicked to a knot of chaos in the thick crowd and worry
creased his forehead.

"Ah, damn. Funny you should ask. Sorry ladies, duty calls." he
reached around the girl on his left and grabbed her pitcher while
clasping his own with his right hand, "I gotta go settle an
argument."

"Hey!" the girl complained loudly as he took off toward the dance
floor with the two pitchers in hand.

"'Scuse me, pardon me, comin' through!" He squeezed through the
throng that had gathered, holding the brimming pitchers overhead.

He found them wrestling on the floor in a violent struggle, cursing
and clawing at one another, their eyes distant and unfocused. Angel
held Gabriel down by the throat, digging his sharp nails into the
young man's flesh. The Seventh Son twisted out of his grip and rolled
onto his side, pinning the vampire's arm under him.

"She's mine!" Angel snarled, gnashing his fangs, "Mine!"

Gabriel shifted his weight and drove his shoulder into the vampire's
chest, "You don't own me! You'll never control me again!"

Doyle raised his eyebrows and shook his head.

"I apologize for this fellas." He smirked, "But you've both got it
coming to ya."

Upending the two pitchers, he doused the pair in a cascade of cold,
frothing beer. The men cried out in shock, releasing one another and
scrabbling back, crab-like, on the floor, jolted back to reality by
the chill downpour. Gabriel shook his head and blinked repeatedly,
breathing heavily and squinting as golden rivulets ran freely down
his brow. Angel stared across at him with beer dripping off the end
of his nose, his yellow eyes wide and stunned, fixed on the seeping
wound on the young man's forearm.

"Angel." Doyle murmured, tapping the length of one finger discreetly
along his own cheek, "Yer showing."

Angel immediately relaxed his vampiric face and staggered to his
feet. He reached out to offer Gabriel a hand but hesitated when he
saw the blood on the young man's arm again.

"What happened, Doyle?" he asked quickly as Gabriel pushed himself to
his feet.

The dark-haired man stared fearfully up at the stage and took both
his companions by the arm, "We'll talk about it later. Right now, we
gotta make tracks."

Angel followed his eyes and found the painted man standing center
stage, grinning impossibly wide with his arms spread triumphantly and
his brightly colored cape flowing all around him.

"And so ends our evening show, ladies and gentlemen!" he announced,
his voice echoing from the rafters without the aid of a microphone
and his fiery green eyes flaring as they held Doyle and his two
companions, "The main performance is scheduled for a later date. I
hope you've enjoyed yourselves. Good night everyone!"

As Doyle urged his friends toward the exit, Angel held the painted
man's gaze steadily with his own. He had known something was wrong
from the first moment he had seen him. Looking at the man's mad grin
one more time before allowing Doyle to pull him out the door, he had
no doubt in his mind. The pigments on the man's face weren't
stagepaint anymore. They were real.

* * *

Doyle rummaged around in the bottom drawer of Angel's desk in search
of another book. Angel stood still as a statue, pensively gazing out
the window while Cordelia tended to Gabriel's wounds in the reception
room.

"It's good that the kid's not the one to blame for all this, huh?"
Doyle mentioned conversationally, and then quickly reconsidered, "I
mean good in the sense that it's not him, not in the sense that now
we have something entirely different to deal with."

"No, you're right." Angel agreed quietly, staring between the blinds
and out the window, "It's good. And we'll take care of the demon.
Tomorrow night, if all goes well."

Doyle started absently rearranging the pens on Angel's desk, trying
to use the time to gauge his friend's mood.

"After everything that happened at his hotel, I told Gabriel he could
crash out on the couch here. I hope that's not a problem." He watched
the vampire for some sort of reaction, anything at all.

"Fine by me." He stated flatly, still staring out the window.

"Cordy's sticking around, too." Doyle smirked a little sadly, "Says
she feels safer here. Like anyone with half a brain's gonna believe
that."

Angel turned and put his back to the window, folding his arms over
his chest and sitting on the windowsill.

"You don't have anything to worry about, Doyle." He said, shaking his
head.

"What are you talkin' about?" Doyle sighed heavily, "She practically
jumps into his lap every chance she gets."

"You don't know Cordelia." Angel snorted, "The way Buffy told it,
back in Sunnydale, she got like this whenever she met a football
player from another district. He's just a new thing for her, kind of
a taste of her glory days in high school. Give it a while for the
novelty to wear off, she'll lose interest in no time."

"I dunno Angel. She's playin' hardball." He dropped into Angel's
chair and looked longingly through the glass into the next room where
the dark-haired girl hung attentively at the Seventh Son's side, "How
can a man resist THAT for long?"

"Trust me." The vampire's eyes narrowed and his mouth
tightened, "Gabriel's got his mind set on other things."

"You mean Buffy." Doyle nodded softly, "You ever going to tell me
what happened there, man?"

"Nothing." Angel answered quickly, "And everything."

Angel paced across the room and leaned against the wall.

"He had some problems when he came to Sunnydale." He began, "Almost
got us all killed. But he's strong and brave, too. And he was in a
lot of pain. I think that spoke to her on some level."

"I never would have figured her as going for the tormented type."
Doyle smirked, tilting the chair back and turning to face Angel
pointedly, "So there were sparks flyin' between the two of them?"

"You could say that." Angel muttered, staring down at the floor and
remembering, "He had feelings for her. He still does, I can see it on
his face. I hated it, but I knew I was going to be leaving soon, so I
stepped back to let her have a chance at a normal life."

"And then what happened?" Doyle discovered an pile of books under the
desk and reached under to pull them out, shuffling through them
quietly in his lap.

"He just disappeared. She was taking the first steps to moving on
with her life and he just left. She never said anything to me, but I
knew it hurt her." Angel clenched his fist unintentionally, "I wanted
her to be happy and I knew he was a decent person underneath it all.
But I hated it. I even hated him a little. I thought that might have
had something to do with why he left, because of all the history
Buffy and I have."

"Hah, found it! I knew it was around here somewhere." Doyle crowed
excitedly brandishing one of the books proudly. He stopped short and
cringed slightly in apology, "I'm sorry, you were saying?"

"No. I'm done." Angel answered shortly, covering his unintentional
moment of vulnerability and walking into the reception area.

Doyle scampered out after him and seated himself prominently on the
back of Cordelia's desk. As he passed, Cordelia scowled at him.

"You better not leave a butt mark on that." She warned crossly, "I
just polished."

"Thanks for the warning, Princess." Doyle flipped briskly through the
large book, his eyes scanning the pages, "I know it's in here. It has
to be."

Angel sat down quietly across from Gabriel. Each avoided the other's
gaze, shamed by their behavior at the club earlier. While the vampire
appeared to have healed during the short trip back to the office,
Gabriel's face was bruised and his forearm still slowly oozed blood
into a newly applied gauze wrapping. Cordelia curled up on the
loveseat next to him, dabbing attentively at a small cut along his
jaw with a cool, damp cloth. He sucked air wetly through his teeth,
wincing slightly, and her brow creased with concern.

"I can't believe you bit him." She glanced accusingly in Angel's
direction, "Talk about a case for employee mistreatment."

"I didn't mean to do it." Angel hung his head, the memory filling him
with guilt, "It was an accident."

"So what, Gabriel just, like, fell on your teeth?" she pressed
pointedly.

"It's not his fault." Gabriel shook his head, "Something weird
happened. I felt it too. It was like something got inside me and
started pushing all my buttons."

"Sin." Doyle stated, turning the book around and holding it out to
Angel, "I knew I recognized that creepy fella on stage from
somewhere."

Angel accepted the tome with intense interest. The sketched portrait
on the page fit the painted man perfectly, just as Angel had seen him
before they had retreated from the club.

"The demon Sin was originally seven separate entities who were fused
into one being." He read aloud, "The creature must embrace every
seventy-seven years or perish from the earth forever."

"Embrace?" Gabriel scratched his temple, "I've never heard that term
before."

Cordelia stroked a long finger down the length of his arm, from
shoulder to wrist and smiled warmly, "That might explain why you're
so slow on the uptake."

The young man swallowed uneasily and inched slightly away from her as
Angel continued reading, "It is thought that the creature is the root
of man's belief in the seven deadly sins, one for each of the
original demons."

Doyle retrieved the book from Angel and raised his eyebrows, blowing
out a long, stressful breath, "That explains the murder, at least."

Gabriel winced again as Cordelia touched another tender spot on his
face and he stopped her, taking the cloth from her hand.

"I don't understand." He frowned, leaning forward and touching the
cloth gingerly to his jaw.

"The girl's body had seven wounds." Doyle explained, "The heart for
greed, the stomach for gluttony, she got it in the goods for lust,
the brain is the root of pride and the hands and eyes are related to
wrath and envy."

"What about her throat?" Gabriel pointed out, "Angel said she had
been stabbed in the throat."

"Sloth." The vampire added, "The thyroid gland controls energy levels
in a human. The demon must need to pay homage to the seven deadly
sins."

"You think that's how he got the two of you to flip your wigs at the
club?" Doyle questioned, circling a finger around his temple in
demonstration.

"I'm willing to bet on it." The vampire nodded softly, chagrined at
the memory.

"That makes sense." Gabriel stroked his bruised chin in thought, "It
started out as almost like an animal attraction to every woman around
me, like I had no control. I'm guessing that was Lust. Then it
changed. When Angel came up to me, I saw my father instead and I felt
threatened, like he was trying to control me again."

"Pride." Angel observed grimly, "When you saw your father, your pride
was threatened. It's a classic dynamic."

"Well, my father and I have had some pretty serious extenuating
circumstances." The auburn-haired young man remarked ruefully.

"What did YOU see?" Cordelia narrowed her eyes shrewdly and tilted
her head at Angel.

"That's not important." he avoided the question, "I know the demon
was definitely after me. We just have to figure out why."

"What if it wasn't looking for you, Angel?" Doyle continued absently
looking through the old book, "The message on the wall said 'Embrace
the Seventh, Angel', right?"

Angel nodded.

"What if you read it wrong? Gabriel and all his brothers are named
after archangels and he's the youngest one. The seventh angel." He
looked seriously in Gabriel's direction, "Suppose 'embrace' is just a
fancy way of sayin' 'eat'?"

Angel nodded agreeably, "It's already shown a strong interest in
sevens and he certainly fits the bill."

Gabriel leaned back in his seat and stared at the ceiling.

"Wonderful. A demon as old as creation wants to devour me just
because I have six older brothers and six uncles." He sighed
sharply, "So how do we kill it?"

"That was going to be my next topic of discussion." Doyle looked less
than confident, "Sin is unique, so no one's ever found a way to kill
him, but it says here that each of the seven demons that he's made up
of had to be killed in a particular way. Pride needed to be crushed,
Lust impaled, Wrath burned, Greed electrocuted, Gluttony drowned,
Sloth decapitated, and Envy poisoned. The theory is that he could be
taken down piece by piece provided it's all done in the same twenty-
four hours before he can regenerate."

As Doyle closed the book, the four looked to each other uneasily.
Angel rose to his feet and stroked his chin thoughtfully, his mind
working at a furious pace.

"This is going to take some maneuvering." He said, turning to
Gabriel, "Can your Second Sight identify the demon's different
parts?"

"I think so." The young man frowned in thought, "I noticed a change
in it tonight when it switched from Lust to Pride. I should be able
to recognize which one we're facing."

Cordelia raised her eyebrows in confusion.

"Second Sight?" she questioned, slipping her hands around Gabriel's
arm, "You mean like Doyle has?"

"Not likely." Doyle snorted and smirked, "He's got the real thing.
I'd trade up what I got in a second."

"If you need me with you, there could be another problem." Gabriel
pointed out, facing Angel, "Unless Doyle's friend at the door is
there again tonight, I'm going to have some trouble getting in. I
understand that these places frown on the presence of minors."

Cordelia wrinkled her nose and narrowed her eyes at him, her hands
loosening around his arm, "Excuse me?"

"I'm only seventeen." He shrugged apologetically.

"Ew!" Cordy recoiled instantly with a look of disgust on her face,
shrinking away from him as if he were on fire, "What were you
thinking by coming onto me all this time!? A Chase woman, me in
particular, would NEVER date a younger man. Ever. Get a clue boy-
child."

Bouncing to her feet, she stalked sourly across the room and leaned
her back against the opposite wall, rolling her eyes skyward. Doyle
observed the exchange with a wry smirk.

"Easy come, easy go." He raised his eyebrows at Gabriel.

"Don't worry about the club." Angel told him, "The plan I've got in
mind requires you to wait outside. All we need are some supplies."

* * *

Later, while Gabriel and Cordelia were out collecting the supplies
that Angel had asked for, Doyle and the vampire were alone in the
office.

"Okay, SOMETHING'S bothering you, Angel." Doyle leaned against
Angel's desk and folded his arms resolutely over his chest, "You been
all twisted up since we got back from the club and I'm tired of
waitin' for you to volunteer."

"Do you know how long it's been since I've tasted human blood,
Doyle?" the strain in his voice was almost painful to listen to.

"I'm not sure, " Doyle answered uneasily, "but I'm guessing it's been
a while."

"Not long." Angel shook his head softly, "I was poisoned and the only
cure was the blood of a Slayer. She gave it to me."

"That's tragic." The dark-haired young man frowned, "But why is it
just startin' to bother you now?"

"I didn't want to do it, Doyle. I would have rather died than risk
killing her." He clenched his fists in front of him and paused,
seeming to need to regain his composure, "But she kept hitting me,
until my instincts took over. Even then, I still had a measure of
restraint. I stopped myself from going all the way."

"That's what Sin tapped into at the club tonight, wasn't it?" Doyle
guessed wisely, "He started with bloodlust and then zeroed in on your
pride. So you attacked Gabriel."

Angel's brow furrowed and his eyes darkened, "I didn't just want to
hurt him tonight, Doyle. I wanted to kill him. There was nothing
inside me that told me it was wrong. I tasted his blood and I wanted
to drain it all. And all because I imagined that Buffy was my
possession."

"Look, that wasn't your fault." Doyle reassured him, "Sin got his
hooks in ya. You weren't in control of yerself."

Angel lifted his gaze and looked at Doyle with pain and uneasiness in
his dark eyes, "I felt like I was in control when I was draining him.
That's the problem. What if Sin had nothing to do with that? What if
I can't let go of this?"

"Angel." Doyle rose and smiled, "You moved all the way out here so
Buffy could have a better life. You put your life on the line every
night to help people you don't even know. If there's anything in this
world I'm sure of, it's that you'll do the right thing."

"Umm, hellooo!" Cordelia's voice called from the reception area, "A
little help here?"

She staggered through the door with a large cardboard box in her
arms, nearly tripping. Doyle watched her with interest for a moment,
then turned back to Angel.

"I better go give her a hand." He said, "You going to be alright?"

"Yeah." Angel nodded, "I just need a little time to think."

"Good. 'Cause the last thing we need is for you to be off your game
during the big show tomorrow night."

Angel watched as Doyle went into the next room and took the box from
Cordelia, who dumped it in his arms without so much as a word of
thanks. Behind her, Gabriel carefully inched in through the door, his
face hidden behind two more boxes.

"Don't you worry, Doyle." The vampire murmured, clenching his
fist, "I'm more than ready."

* * *

The next night, Cordelia observed skeptically as Angel and Gabriel
got suited up. The pair looked like commandos, dressed all in black
and outfitted with a dozen or more contraptions of Angel's own
design.

"You go out like that in this heat and you'll both die of cardiac
arrest." she warned them, fanning herself with a magazine, "Well, at
least one of you will."

"I'll be fine." Gabriel assured her, slipping a short, wide bladed
sword that was almost a cleaver, into his boot, "As far as the heat
is concerned, that is."

"Who said I was worried?" she eyed him distastefully.

"This demon is finished." Doyle smiled confidently as he helped Angel
on with a tightly bound backpack, "With the two of you working
together on this, I'm betting seven lives will end up being a few too
short."

"Let's hope you're right, Doyle." Angel slipped a metal-tipped stake
into his retractable wrist sheath and pushed it up into his sleeve
with a click, "If we mess this up, we're not going to get another
chance."

With all of their equipment in place, Angel and Gabriel pulled on
coat and jacket respectively. Angel's was long enough to cover
everything he carried and loose enough even to conceal the backpack
while Gabriel's waist-length gray leather jacket did a serviceable
job of camouflaging his own arsenal.

"We're in the middle of a killer heatwave and you're wearing
leather." Cordelia sighed, shaking her head, "I'm telling
you, 'cardiac arrest'. . . "

"You know the plan, just like we discussed." Angel nodded to
Gabriel, "Ready?"

"Any time you are." the boy answered eagerly, sweat already gathering
uncomfortably on his forehead.

* * *

Angel entered the Seventh Heaven alone, the way they had planned it.
Gabriel would certainly have passed out from the oppressive heat if
he had gone inside dressed as he was. Angel, on the other hand, had
no such worry. The vampire migrated to a secluded corner, near the
fire exit and watched the tightly packed crowd. There was a
performance already underway onstage, but Sin was nowhere to be seen.

Scanning the room with dark, intense eyes, Angel creased his forehead
in confusion. He had been sure that Sin would be expecting a
challenge. The previous night, it seemed that the demon had invited
it. But now, the creature seemed to have disappeared.

A young woman slipped into the space in front of him and smiled
lasciviously up at him. He barely remembered her, but it was the
bikini-clad girl who had bumped into him the night before. Her pale
blonde hair was pulled back from her face, exposing an attractive
length of tanned neck and a delicately featured face atop a slender,
supple body. Her attire was about as modest as it had been last
night, consisting of a skirt that was barely enough to cover her and
a laced-up top that was so tight it appeared ready to burst. She was
beautiful, but her face held a constant tinge of dissatisfaction.

"Hi." She grinned, displaying a mouthful of straight, white teeth and
holding his eyes with manufactured innocence, "I wish I had eyes as
beautiful as yours."

"What?" he frowned down at her, having only caught the last part of
what she had said.

"I was just wishing I had the kind of presence you do." She
reiterated, sour irritation peeking through her carefully constructed
mask of sensual interest, "Remember me?"

"No." he stated quickly, lifting his head uncomfortably and looking
past her into the crowd, toward the stage.

"What about me?" she grabbed him sharply by the arm, her voice
changing, becoming intimately familiar.

Angel looked at her and was stunned speechless. He had imagined this,
dreamed it countless times since he had come to Los Angeles. Buffy,
standing close to him and touching him with loving interest.

Stroking her fingertips over his arm and across his chest, she leaned
in close. Angel's heart constricted with desire and he wrapped his
hands around her waist. She was just like he remembered, warm and
sleek and sweet smelling. He didn't question where she had come from
or why she was there. He only knew that she was in his arms again,
filling his blood with fire.

"Bring me the Seventh." She whispered, nuzzling her face into his
neck.

"What?" he gasped dizzily, battling the overpowering need to kiss
her.

"I'll give you anything you want, Angel." She offered, tugging open
the top of her blouse and leering suggestively, "Even me."

Something snapped alarmingly inside him, a memory of incredible
passion and the year-long nightmare that had followed. A nightmare he
had sworn never to risk repeating again. Buffy would never put him in
that position so selfishly. Realization cut through his haze of
desire and he was able to clearly see what was before him for the
first time.

"Sin." His eyes narrowed dangerously and he shoved her away.

"I knew you'd recognize me sooner or later, demon." She breathed with
a slight giggle. In an instant, her form shimmered and changed,
shifting into the image of the red-haired prostitute he had briefly
seen at the murder scene yesterday. She cocked her head and regarded
him with cruel, green eyes.

"After what you did to that girl upstairs you must have known I'd
find you." he folded his arms over his chest and turned to face the
creature. Inwardly, he was relieved that it no longer wore Buffy's
shape.

"That message wasn't meant for you." The prostitute shrugged, holding
his eyes with an ageless stare, "But I think you already know that.
Where are you hiding him?"

"Where you won't have a chance to get him." He responded
convincingly.

"Really?" She chuckled patronizingly, flicking her short hair
carelessly over her shoulder, "I've never lost a Seventh Son, Angel.
Ever. The boy is doomed. It's only a matter of time."

Angel ducked his head, as if considering and then grabbed hold of her
arm and jerked her into him in one smooth motion.

"Come and get him." With a flick of his wrist, he brought the metal-
tipped stake out of his sleeve and rammed it into her chest, shoving
on it until the sharp end popped out of her back.

Sin gaped and fell to her knees, eyes wide with shock, as Angel
bolted for the fire exit. Bursting outside, the vampire slammed the
door behind him and pressed his back against it. Gabriel was waiting
in the alley, as they had discussed, his hands hanging in nervous
readiness at his sides. Angel nodded uneasily to the young man.

If his calculations were wrong, even by a little, the entire plan
would fail. Gabriel would be left to face the demon alone and he
would most likely die, just like the hundred Seventh Sons who had
gone before him. Just a small miscalculation . . .the vampire shook
his head. No. Doubt was a luxury that would have to wait until later,
after this was all over, when he was safe again in the darkness of
his office. Right now was a time for recklessness.

From an overhead fire escape, Doyle smiled and waved, a rifle ready
in his other hand.

"Are we on?" Doyle raised his eyebrows.

"What are you doing here, Doyle?" the vampire demanded. Doyle's
presence could seriously jeopardize the plan.

"Poison darts. For when Envy shows its ugly kisser." Doyle shrugged,
indicating the gun, "Figured I could help out a couple of my friends.
You don't think I was about to let the two of you play hero all by
yerselves, did you?"

A massive impact struck the inside of the door and Angel flew
forward, stumbling along the paved street.

"I took out Lust. I think we have Sin's attention." He climbed to his
feet and looked to his companions.

The door shuddered again and flew open and a small figure stood
framed in the doorway. It was the bikini girl, surrounded by a halo
of steam and her eyes glowing with green fire. The demon stepped
casually into the alley, grinning broadly and watching Gabriel
hungrily.

"There you are, lunchmeat." The creature's voice emanated from
between its teeth, rich and melodious, like a miniature
choir, "You're going to be my new beginning."

The Seventh Son drew the short, wide-bladed sword from his boot, and
advanced on Sin, "How about your final ending."

Sin's slim, female hand snapped out and smashed into Gabriel's chest,
throwing him back against the alley wall like a sack of grain. The
boy bounced hard and the blade flew from his hand as he sank to his
knees. Doyle lined up a shot and then hesitated, knowing that the
dart would only be wasted if he used it on the wrong aspect. Angel
dove at the demon and cracked his fist across her delicate jaw with
no effect. He continued to strike her, smashing his foot into her
stomach and pounding his fists into her throat, all with no apparent
impact. Sin's slight body possessed incredible strength and
resilience, seeming to root itself to the ground whenever he hit it,
becoming as solid as stone.

"I feed off chaos!" Sin bellowed in a voice that was beyond what her
delicate throat should have been able to produce and straight-armed
an open hand into his chest, stopping him cold, "I live for discord!
I crave strife!"

"Gabriel!" Angel shouted, "Get up! You have to tell us which sin
we're facing!"

Gabriel groggily pushed himself up and focused his eyes on Sin as she
laughed triumphantly.

"It's Envy!" he cried suddenly, "I'm sure of it. Doyle, shoot!"

"Just what I was waitin' to hear." The half-demon raised the rifle to
his shoulder and pulled the trigger.

Sin's laughter was cut abruptly short as a thumb-sized dart embedded
itself in her neck and released a strong dose of venom. She looked up
at Doyle confusedly and stumbled, falling face-first to the ground.
The three men watched in horrified fascination as the corpse of the
bikini girl split lengthwise with a bloodless gash.

Thick, obscuring mist poured from the split, swirling into a column
around the lifeless form. A tall man with a thickly muscled physique
and wearing ragged gang clothes arose from the pile of dust that had
once been Sin's former body.

Angel recognized him as the drug-dealer who had approached them
outside the club. Apparently, Sin had been making a point of keeping
an eye on his prey.

Turning, the man glared at the three and spread his hands with a
cocky smile.

"Twice now, you've killed me." The man nodded with a measure of
grudging respect, "That's only happened a handful of times throughout
history. I commend you, vampire. You and your companions may prove to
be a worthwhile challenge yet."

Gabriel raised his hands and focused his special vision on the demon.

"Bring it on, Wrath." The boy hopped forward and snapped a sharp side-
kick up under the man's chin. The impact hurt his foot, but the demon
fell back a step.

"It's getting weaker." Angel noted, joining the Seventh Son's attack
and slamming his fists into the demon's torso.

Sin growled in frustration, backhanding the vampire and knocking him
to his knees. As the demon raised his arm to cave Angel's skull in,
Gabriel clamped onto the thick limb and held on with all his might.
The boy gasped in surprise as he was hoisted effortlessly into the
air and slammed down painfully onto the street. Sin gripped his
throat with steely fingers and started to squeeze.

"I will embrace you, Seventh Son!" He snarled.

"Comin' down!" Doyle called, riding the rapidly descending fire
escape ladder down into Sin's face.

The creature's entire body shook with the blow and it lost its hold
on Gabriel, stumbling dazedly into the wall, and fell onto its back.
Doyle bounced off the end of the ladder and skipped over the dark
asphalt, skidding to a stop between the rising forms of Angel and
Gabriel.

"Wrath." He clutched the spent rifle tensely in his hands as Sin sat
up slowly and grinned evilly, glaring at them with baleful green
glowing eyes, "How do we kill Wrath? Fire, right?"

Angel slipped a clear, glass bottle out of his backpack, tossed it to
Gabriel and then backed away. The Seventh Son quickly sparked a
wooden match and lit the bottle's gas-soaked fuse.

Hefting the flaming weapon, he made sure to give Angel a wide
berth, "I got it covered."

As Sin advanced, Gabriel hurled the firebomb into the demon's chest,
engulfing it in a tower of roaring flame. For the first time, they
heard Sin scream in pain.

"You cannot destroy me! I am eternal!" he roared as the inferno
seared through his body, "Come here, vampire! You fear the flames.
Burn with me."

Angel backed away warily as Doyle and Gabriel looked to one another
briefly before linking hands and charging the demon, hooking it
around the neck and slamming its burning body to the ground. Sin
toppled like a mighty oak and writhed slowly until his body caved in
on itself.

Angel raised his arm protectively before his face and squinted into
the dying flames.

"What happened?" he frowned, "Why isn't it getting up?"

Doyle hung back, briskly patting down the scorched hairs on the back
of his forearm, "I wouldn't do that, Angel, you -"

A thin, skeletal figure shot forth out of the fire, tackling the
vampire with tenacious strength and bearing him to the ground. Sin's
new body was female again, a plain, curveless shape with a thin nose
and lusterless, straight brown hair. Her fingertips were like talons,
digging into the undead flesh of Angel's throat with enough strength
to make lights dance before his eyes and his head swim.

A powerful wave of lethargy washed over Gabriel and Doyle and they
each stumbled weakly to their knees.

"Sloth, Doyle," Gabriel demanded tensely, battling the enervating
force and watching Angel's struggles helplessly, "How . . .How do we
kill Sloth?"

"Uh, uh, decapitation, I think." Doyle touched his fingertips to the
sides of his head, attempting to concentrate, "Yeah, that's gotta be
it."

Gabriel found his fallen sword and wrapped his hand tightly around
the hilt. The weakness was debilitating, but he wouldn't surrender.
Steeling himself, he planted the toes of his boots against the
pavement.

"I hope you're right." He summoned what little remaining energy he
had left and dove onto Sin's back, hooking the sharp edge of the
weapon around her throat.

The demon released her hold on Angel and reared back, slamming
Gabriel's body repeatedly against the alley wall. The boy gritted his
teeth against the pain and held on tightly, working the edge of the
blade in his hands against her bony neck. The girl snarled and
whirled trying to throw him off, but he continued to hold on and
sawed the weapon deeper into her throat.

Doyle jumped forth and smashed the butt of his rifle against Sin's
jaw, hoping to stun the creature long enough for Gabriel to finish
his job. The blow had little effect and she reacted swiftly, slapping
a powerful open hand against the side of Doyle's head and spinning
him to the ground. Wailing angrily, the demon stomped down on his leg
and ground her small foot maliciously. Doyle screamed and grasped his
wounded limb in agony. Angel charged and rammed his shoulder into
Sin's chest, knocking her away from his friend.

Gabriel braced himself and leaned back, jerking hard on the blade.
Steel grated on bone and Sin's voice was cut short as the creature's
severed head tumbled to the street.

As the demon's headless corpse collapsed, the Seventh Son released
his hold and fell to his knees. Breathing hard, he dropped his sword
and clutched his bloody shoulder where it had been dragged across the
rough brick. Sin's body continued to move, flopping around on the
pavement near an open sewer grate.

"Come on, we've got to go after it." Angel urged, his dark eyes
locked on the creature as it slipped over the edge down into the
sewer.

Doyle sat up weakly and looked to Gabriel as the Seventh Son rose
unsteadily to his feet and offered out his hand.

"Give me a minute." Doyle accepted Gabriel's hand and pulled himself
up, "Not everyone has a vampire's resilience. The kid looks like he
could use a little breather."

It was obvious by the way he was holding his leg that he was more in
need of a rest than Gabriel was.

"I'm good, Doyle." Gabriel straightened quickly and winced, "There's
still three more to go."

Angel turned to Doyle, "Get yourself to a hospital. We'll take it
from here."

"You sure you two'll be alright without me?" Doyle asked half
jokingly, and sank back against the wall.

"We'll have to manage." Gabriel observed, "With that leg, you're not
going anywhere."

Doyle nodded in agreement to the young man as Angel dropped through
the manhole with his arms held close to his sides. Gabriel smiled and
waved before following the vampire down into the sewer.

Angel landed easily on the damp concrete just in time to catch a
glimpse of a shadowy figure rounding the corner into another tunnel.
Gabriel touched down carefully next to him and Angel pointed to the
dark tunnel where he had seen Sin go. Together, the pair took after
the demon with determined energy, splashing through the shallow,
dirty water along the sides of the passage. Gabriel's eyes were far
less accustomed to the inky darkness, but he was still able to manage
with his other senses.

They chased it down a second tunnel and into a junction. The shape it
wore now was that of an enormously fat man, the cop that Angel had
briefly come across at the staged murder scene. The obese man paused,
bending over to pick up a fallen length of pipe and then turned on
them.

"I'm guessing you're Gluttony." Angel smirked, "And I know you don't
like the water much. Time to take a jump in the pool."

Sin's eyes bulged in panic and he dropped his weapon, diving for a
metal ladder which lead up to the street. Angel grabbed two handfuls
of pudgy flesh and hauled the demon into a deep part of the tunnel.
Wrapping his arms tightly around Sin's incredibly fat chest, he
locked his hands together and jerked him into the water with a
massive splash. The creature thrashed wildly as Angel rolled with him
in the way of a fighting alligator and began to squeeze the air from
his lungs.

Gabriel stood on the shallow ledge tensely, watching as Sin slammed
Angel's head off the concrete and they both sank under the murky
surface. He knelt down and peered hopefully into the sloshing, cloudy
depths.

"Come on, Angel." He muttered softly.

Unseen, a small figure hoisted Sin's forgotten pipe and swiped it
overhand at The Seventh Son's head. Gabriel sensed the attack at the
last instant and dove into a roll, catching the end of the pipe
across his already wounded shoulder. He yelped and turned his back to
the wall, his head swimming from the pain.

Less than five feet away stood a small boy holding the pipe in both
hands. His face was lined and leathery with a mad grin and dark,
avaricious eyes. He clanged the metal pipe off the floor and sneered.

"Being made up of seven different beings has its advantages." The
creature lunged and jabbed at Gabriel with the pipe, dipping under
his defenses and slamming it into his stomach.

Gabriel doubled over and fell dizzily to his hands and knees. He had
pushed himself too fast, too far. The agony in his shoulder was
sickening. The child demon hefted its pipe and stood over him
triumphantly in the near total darkness.

"Prepare to be embraced, Seventh Son." The boy leered with a mouthful
of pointed teeth.

Angel's vision blurred and a wave of sickness overtook him as he sank
to the bottom with Sin locked in his grasp. The sensation was similar
to what he remembered from the last time Angelus had gorged himself
to illness. His insides roiled and his abdomen cramped painfully,
robbing his limbs of strength. He had not expected Gluttony's power
to be able to affect him so easily. Sin tried again to break for the
surface, but Angel hooked an arm around his neck and dragged him
deeper.

They fought in dark, near-silent weightlessness, Sin reaching for
surface and Angel pulling for the bottom. The fat man struggled and
fought to get free, weakening as the oxygen in his lungs was
depleted. Angel crammed his elbow into the creature's gut, forcing
the last breath out of its lungs.

As Sin's limbs went slack and his eyes glazed over, the vampire
planted his feet into the demon's chest and shot for the surface,
bursting up and latching onto the ledge. A metal pipe clanged into
the concrete, scattering sharp chips in all directions and narrowly
missing his skull. Angel lurched back and hoisted himself up onto the
opposite ledge.

A young boy glared at him with luminescent green eyes, holding the
pipe in both his small hands and standing over Gabriel's limp body.
Seven shiny, red tentacles extended from the child's chest and were
attached to strategic points on the Seventh Son's face.

"Angel," the young man gasped in agony, "It's Greed."

Reacting swiftly, Angel leaped across the water and grasped an
insulated electrical wire on the wall, ripping one end free and
jamming it into the base of Sin's neck.

The boy screamed and the tentacles released their hold on Gabriel as
hundreds of volts of electricity coursed through his small frame.
Spasming crazily, Sin flopped over and shook as the end of the
exposed wire popped and shorted out the circuit. Angel waited until
the boy layed still and released the wire, kneeling down by the
Seventh Son's side.

"Bet you're glad I made you wear that insulating suit, now aren't
you?" he smirked as the auburn-haired young man pushed himself up
into a sitting position against the wall. There were seven pucker
marks arranged on his face where the tentacles had attached
themselves, "You okay?"

Gabriel's green and gold eyes went wide and he pointed over Angel's
shoulder, struggling to rise.

"Pride." He gasped.

Angel whirled as Sin, now wearing the form of the demonic dancer,
fled to the far end of the tunnel and started climbing for the
surface. Unconcerned, the vampire smirked and turned back to Gabriel
to help him up.

"Forget about me!" Gabriel shouted, pushing Angel toward the far end
of the tunnel, "You have to go after it!"

Angel ignored him and slung the young man's arm over his shoulder,
supporting his weight and starting slowly back the way they had come.

"What are you doing?" Gabriel demanded, "Sin's getting away!"

"Sin doesn't know these tunnels like I do. Trust me, Gabriel, we're
done here." The vampire assured him without explanation, "Are you
alright to walk?"

The auburn-haired young man pushed away in frustration, limping
heavily, "That THING is going to come back!" he turned in the
direction that Sin had gone, "It'll regenerate. We only killed it six
times."

"Right," Angel placed his hand on Gabriel's shoulder and held him
back, "Impaled, poisoned, burned, decapitated, drowned,
electrocuted . . ."

He turned his gaze to the ladder that Sin had retreated
to, " . . .and crushed."

* * *

Sin nimbly scaled the metal rungs of the ladder, desperate to escape.
Once he reached the open again, there would be no way for the vampire
and Seventh Son to catch him. In a mere twenty-four hours, he would
be completely recovered, ready to hunt down his prey again.

This time, there would be no games. He would seek out the Seventh Son
directly instead of trying to lure him in. And during the daytime,
too, when the boy's vampire ally would be next to useless. No one had
ever come so close to destroying Sin before. This Seventh Son would
pay for that.

Reaching the top of the ladder, the painted man pushed the heavy
manhole cover up, sliding it to the side and boosting himself up to
sit on the edge of the street. Yes, he would ensure that this
embracement would be the most excruciating ever.

A truck horn blared deafeningly and a set of blinding headlights bore
down on the demon. He turned too late and opened his fanged mouth in
a silent scream as the speeding truck collided full force with his
torso, sending his lifeless body hurtling into the ditch where
dissolved into a wisp of black smoke.

* * *

Angel stared out the window at the violet horizon. There had been a
note from Doyle pinned to the inside of the office door informing him
that he had gotten his leg tended to and then gone home. Angel would
call him later and let him and Cordelia know the outcome of the
battle, but right now, he wanted some time for quiet contemplation.
It would be dawn soon, and this was the time when he liked to watch
the sky the most. Already, the temperature was beginning to rise
slightly. It promised to be another hot day.

"You don't have to leave, you know." He said, still looking out the
window, "You've earned a place here if you want it."

Gabriel stood next to him, watching the horizon also, with a sling
binding one of his shoulders and a large, tightly-packed travel bag
slung over the other. They had made a stop at an outpatient clinic to
get his more serious wounds patched up and his strength appeared to
already be returning.

"I appreciate it, but LA will be fine without me." He answered, tiny
reflections of the approaching dawn shining in his green
eyes, "Besides, I have places to go."

"And people to see." Angel observed without feeling a twinge of
jealousy for the first time since the Seventh Son had arrived in his
city.

The young man was struck dumb for an instant, surprised at Angel's
astute deduction and even more by the acceptance he detected in the
man's voice.

"All my life, I've always had someone else telling me what to do.
After my father died, I didn't have that anymore. Maybe that's why I
came to you." He smirked bittersweetly, "But I guess it's time I
started looking out for myself, huh?"

"You're stronger than you think, Gabriel." The vampire told
him, "I've seen it. And so has she."

"Thank you." The boy seemed very much his age for the first time in
Angel's experience, innocent and a little vulnerable, "You don't know
what it means for me to hear you say that."

The two continued to stare at the gradually lightening sky in silence
for long minutes until Gabriel spoke again.

"Three months ago, I was lying on the floor of your mansion and
dying." The young man's jaw muscles twitched a little in shame at the
memory, "I thought my life was over."

"I remember." The vampire inclined his head slightly, continuing to
observe the approaching sunrise.

"Do you also remember what you asked me that day? You wanted to know
if I loved her and I couldn't answer you." He reached out and turned
the vampire to face him, meeting his gaze with stalwart
conviction, "But I can now."

Gabriel remained perfectly still, anxiously watching the vampire for
some sort of reaction.

Angel cleared his throat uneasily and pulled the curtains closed,
heading slowly toward his apartment, "It's getting close to sunrise."

"Angel . . ." Gabriel followed him out into the reception room.

Angel stopped with his back turned and his head bowed.

"Be good to her Gabriel." He whispered, his voice stained with
emotion, "Nothing will ever change what she and I have, but you were
right when you said she doesn't need anyone to watch over her
anymore. Maybe it's time I realized that."

"I'll never forget what you did for me back then." Gabriel whispered
softly, standing by the open door, "Or now. So how do you think we
should leave this?"

Gabriel raised his arm slowly and offered out his hand.

"As friends?" he suggested.

Angel accepted the young man's hand and nodded very
slightly, "Friends."

***Author's Note ***
For those of you who may be interested in the rest of the series
and/or may have missed a piece or two of it, below is a list of the
stories with short descriptions.



DIVERGENT PATHS - Coinciding with the discovery of an artifact with
the power to close the Hellmouth, a mysterious stranger arrives in
Sunnydale with abilities that rival the Slayer's. Will he be a
powerful ally for her, or bring about her downfall? (Faith/Buffy/Willow/Xander/Giles Sec),

TO HELL WITH TOMORROW - Thirty-five years into the future and Slaying
has taken on a whole new scope. Gabriel Giles attempts to cheat
death and learns that things happen for a reason. (Giles/Oz/Willow/Angel(us) Sec)

BAD BLOOD - A familiar face comes to LA, forcing Angel to confront
both a violent killer and his lingering feelings for Buffy. (Angel(us)/Cordelia Sec)

RETURNS - Spike and Drusilla return to Sunnydale over the summer, but
they aren't the only familiar faces turning up. Planning to steal
the powers of the Slayer and Seventh Son, they cast a dark shadow
over the reuniting Chosen Ones. (Spike/Dru/Buffy/Willow/Xander/Giles Sec)

POOR MISS EDITH - Before coming to Sunnydale, Spike and Drusilla
lived in Prague, Czechoslovakia and battled with a young Gabriel
Giles. (Spike/Dru/Giles Sec),

REDEEMED - Five months after 'The Wish', a new Slayer arrives in
Sunnydale to aid the Whitehats and faces off with a very different
Seventh Son. (Giles/Oz/Faith/Willow/Xander Sec)

BOY'S NIGHT OUT - While the girls have a night to themselves, the
boys go looking for fun and run afoul of a demon with a taste for
young men. (Buffy/Oz/Willow/Xander Sec)

HISTORY - Threatened by the possible return of the Master, Buffy is
forced into a hard choice between love and duty. (Buffy/Willow Sec)

FACING FEARS - Buffy's been dumped and three different men plan to
take advantage, Riley, Parker and the newly-reborn Master.
Meanwhile, Gabriel is targeted by the Initiative. (Buffy/Willow/Giles/Spike/Xander Sec),

A DAY IN THE LIFE - When Buffy and Gabriel get turned into children,
Willow and Xander must assume the roles of Slayer and Seventh Son.
But which is the greater problem, Sunnydale's vampire population or
two rambunctious toddlers on the loose? (Buffy/Willow/Giles/Xander Sec)