Part One

A storm was coming. The wind kicked up and made the fall leaves dance around her as she walked through one of the many Sunnydale cemeteries. It smelled like rain and she wrapped her sweater more tightly around her shoulders. There was a full moon, which, despite six years having gone by, always reminded her of Oz. She wondered where he was now, what he was doing since he left the small California town. It still struck her as ironic that the one thing he loved in all the world was her best friend, Willow, and that was the one thing he couldn’t have. And that scenario was one all too familiar.  

Buffy stopped in front of a crypt to admire the intricate engraving that adorned the door. She sighed, “I can’t believe I can admire these things now, that I can find beauty in them.” She’d been a Slayer for a long time. At the age of 26 she was the oldest Slayer in history, something she was fiercely proud of. She planned to be around for many, many more years, Slayer or not. She ran a finger along a deep crack in the crypt’s door, a crack that lead to the face of a cherub angel. Things always seem to lead back to angels….  

Suddenly a stick cracked to her left and all other thoughts flew from her mind. Her ears perked up and her eyes quickly assessed her surroundings, even though she had stood in this spot dozens of times before, fighting or preparing to fight. Nothing came flying at her and nothing tried to hide. There seemed to be no one there, but she wasn’t convinced. When there seems to be nothing wrong, usually all hell breaks loose…literally, she thought. She walked towards the origin of the sound and paused, almost sniffing the air. If I put my mind to it, I probably could smell vampires. I can certainly sense them every other way.  

Finding nothing unusual she took a step back towards the crypt she had been admiring. A little jumpy these days, aren’t we? It’s probably a rabbit. But she knew better. In Sunnydale, it was never, ever just a rabbit.

She stepped onto the blacktop path that wound its way through the cemetery and continued on, patrolling as she had for over ten years. Things had changed since the first time she stepped foot in this cemetery, in this town. The important things had stayed the same, though, she decided. Xander and Anya were together, married, with children. Xander was the foreman for the construction company he had started out at as a laborer so many years ago. Anya still helped Giles run the Magic Box, the magic store he had taken over after the original owner had been killed in yet another Sunnydale tragedy. Giles was still officially Buffy’s Watcher, despite the fact that she really no longer needed one. They still trained together almost daily, and he was still the greatest source of demon knowledge in the country.  

Luckily, Giles had convinced his on-again, off-again girlfriend, Olivia, that his lifestyle wasn’t too dangerous for her and the two had been married several years back. At first Olivia had wanted to live in London, but Giles had refused, telling her his feelings for Buffy, the daughter he had never had. He had told her that he couldn’t leave her, they needed each other. It had touched Olivia enough to agree to a California address. And she, in some small ways, took over the mother-role that Buffy had lost at such an early age. The two had become very close over the last six years. Olivia was by no means a replacement for Joyce, but she had a very understanding nature, and often helped guide Buffy in making her choices in life. Choices of the heart, not of the mind. Giles had that department covered as far as advice went.

Losing Dawn had been the worst, almost as bad as losing her mother. Buffy still felt she failed, despite the fact that Dawn had willingly given up her own life to save Buffy, the Scoobies, and the rest of the world. Angel had been there, been there to help comfort Buffy as he had been just a few weeks earlier when she had lost her mother. But Dawn didn’t die as peacefully as their mother had. A brain tumor would have been a blessing. Dawn bled to death on an altar as Glorificus had tried to bring Hell on Earth. Tara had given her life so that Dawn could live, but it was too late. Dawn had lost too much blood.  

Willow….Willow had barely survived Oz’s departure, and the death of Tara had put in her such a state of shock that no one thought she would come out of it. It had taken months before her catatonia had broken, but when she “woke up” the change in her was amazing. She had been in a trance, one that she had put herself in to help with the healing. In this trance she had been able to communicate with Tara and to be assured that all would be okay. When she came back to her friends she had grieved and was prepared to move on. She would never forget and would never stop loving Tara, but she was at peace.  

In the end, Glory had been defeated by a spell the Watcher’s Council had “suddenly come up with.” A grand battle had still been needed, but a binding spell had kept Glory/Ben and the third hellgod, Doc, from performing any sort of majic or ritual. Buffy performed a spell over Dawn’s lifeless body that trapped her energy, the Key’s energy, in a crystal that she now wore around her neck. It was in the shape of the sun, of dawn, a symbol of her sister. She had vowed to never take it off and to guard it forever. Glory/Ben and Doc were easy to kill once their powers, and more to the point, their strength, was bound. Spike took care of them in two quick swoops of a sword, surprising everyone.

And here they were…..Sunnydale, six years later. So little had changed, and yet so much had. Spike had left town after the death of Dawn, but returned a few years later. He had traveled and found a witch doctor who removed his chip and for awhile he had reverted to his old tricks, drinking from anything with a pulse. He was still a threat, but the Scoobies didn’t have the heart to kill him. Not that they let him know that, Buffy smirked. He had been so devastated when Dawn died, he had blamed Angel for distracting Buffy, then blamed Buffy herself for being too caught up in her own problems. Since his return he had actually been helpful, though Buffy was still wary of him and his unrequited feelings.

Riley had returned about a year after Dawn’s death and he and Buffy had tried to work things out. Sadly, it wasn’t meant to be. Angel had stayed in town for months after Dawn’s death, helping the Slayer who had lost so much in such a short time. Their relationship had stayed platonic, but barely. Riley’s return was ill timed. He had been watching Buffy for a few weeks before he made his presence known, and reentered her life as jealous of Angel as he had been when he left. Buffy sighed, and sat down on a park bench, remembering their last encounter.  

She and Angel had been patrolling the streets of Sunnydale when they were attacked by a group of vamps. They quickly went to work fighting them off, having easily fallen back into the flow of fighting side-by-side. It was one of many things they did well together, and Willow had once remarked that it was amazing to watch the teamwork the two possessed. Buffy was making quick work of one particular vampire when two more ambushed her. Angel came to her rescue and all three vamps were quickly dusted, but the event left her slightly shaken. 

“I thought I was back on my game…guess not,” she said, brushing the vamp dust off her pants.  

“You’re getting there. Those two came out of nowhere. You can’t be expected to handle three on one.”  

She smiled up at him ruefully, “I guess I’m just lucky you’re still around.”  

They held hands as they walked back onto the sidewalk, as they occasionally did. Buffy wasn’t sure what it meant, but it was nice and she didn’t push for it to stop. They reached the end of the street and rounded the corner, heading towards the Bronze when a figure came out of the shadows ahead of them. Angel instinctively moved in front of Buffy but stopped when he saw who it was.  

“Angel! Move!” Buffy exclaimed, pushing her way in front of him. “You’ve got to stop…..” she trailed off as Riley’s face came into her view.  

“So…taking a bite out of crime, you two?” Riley asked, sarcasm dripping.  

“Riley…you’re back!” Buffy said, stunned.  

“Just got in, more or less. In enough time to see you two…together…with the hand-holding.”  

Angel stepped up next to Buffy. “Riley…good to see you,” he said, unable to keep the mocking tone out of his voice. He had never had patience for the boy standing in front of him.  

“Not in the mood, Angel. I just came to talk to Buffy.”  

Buffy walked over to him and searched his face. “What are you doing here? I waited, all those months to hear from you. I tried to find you,” pain filling her throat.  

He leaned into her, taking her cheek in his hand. “I couldn’t get away. I tried, but the mission was too important. I had to see it through. Besides, you didn’t seem to want me to stay, if I recall correctly.” He looked up at Angel standing behind them. “Guess I know why.” Angel wiggled his eyebrows at him.  

She sighed. “I tried to get to you. I ran, but the helicopter took off and you couldn’t hear me. I tried. But I was too late.”  

His face softened slightly, then returned to stony. “I’m sorry.”  

She looked down, unable to meet his eyes. A moment passed, then another. “So what are you doing here now? Are you back?”  

“I can be. I just need you to say the word. But, it seems that you’ve taken up with Mr. Broody again, so I suppose you’re not needing me.”

“Riley, I’m not with Angel. He’s been here, these last few months, when you weren’t, I might add, helping me.”  

“What’s the deal? Some big bad in town?”  

“No, nothing big, nothing bad.”  

“’Cept me,” Angel muttered under his breath, glaring at Riley. Buffy hushed him with a look.  

“Then why do you need him?” Riley asked impatiently.  

“I…my mom…Dawn…” Buffy couldn’t get the words out before the tears spilled over. Riley put his arms around to comfort her and for a moment she melted into him. Suddenly she pushed back. “No! No! You don’t get to be the one. You left. You weren’t there.” She turned and ran down the street. Angel threw a nasty glare at Riley before taking off after her. Riley swore and followed them up to Buffy’s house. The Slayer ran inside and Angel followed. Riley sat on the steps, knowing that he was unwanted, waiting.  

Moments later Angel returned. “Nice job. Very nice. Six sentences into your first conversation with her in almost a year and you manage to make her cry. I can see why you’re still single.”  

“Whatever, dead-boy. I can see why Xander liked that nickname so much. Is she okay? What the hell happened while I was gone?”  

“What happened!?” Angel paced impatiently. “Her mother is dead. Dawn is dead. Tara is dead. You weren’t here for any of it. You weren’t here to see her almost go over the edge and then come back again. That’s what happened.”  

Riley stood there, stunned. “I had no idea. I had no idea.” He sat on the porch step and Angel crouched a step above him.  

“You weren’t here,” Angel said into his ear.  

Riley looked up at him. “And you were, is that the point?”  

“No, it’s not the point, but it’s a point.”

“What happened? How did they all die?”  

Angel sighed and sat down. “Joyce died of a brain tumor, about a month after you left. Buffy tried to reach you but couldn’t. Her own father couldn’t be found. Thank God for Giles.” He paused, then continued. “Dawn died by the hands of Glory. Buffy tried to save her but she had already lost too much blood. She died swearing to Buffy that this was what she wanted, to save the world, to save her sister, and to be with her mother.”  

“And Tara?”  

“Tara tried to give her life for Dawn’s. She did it without Buffy’s knowing and of course Glory killed her after capturing Dawn.”  

“Everyone else? They’re okay?”  

“Yes.”  

Riley stared at his shoes, taking it all in. “I should have been here.”  

Angel said nothing.

“I thought it was best, for me to leave.”  

Angel said nothing.  

“Are you two….together?”  

Angel said nothing. He stared at the boy in front of him, still dressed in his military garb, then turned and walked to the front door of the house. “Riley, we’ve always been together,” he said, and went into the house, leaving Riley on the porch, alone.  

The wind smacked at her face and Buffy broke out of her memories. It had happened such a long time ago. Despite their efforts, they hadn’t been able to work it out. In their last big argument, weeks after Riley’s return to Sunnydale and Angel’s reluctant departure to LA, Riley had told her what happened on her front porch that night. Angel had said they’d always been together. And yet, she thought, here I am in a lonely, miserable cemetery, alone. She jumped up off the park bench and began her walk home. Angel had left for LA again and nothing had happened between them since, though she was sure he still felt as strongly for her as he always had. She didn't know how she felt about him. Glancing at the sky she grimaced. Where had these thoughts come from tonight? Better to leave that alone...no use in digging up the past.  

Rounding the corner to her house, where she and Willow now lived together, the vamp attacked. He came upon her from behind and she barely had time to turn around before she was thrown back against a tree. Crumpling to the ground she reached inside her sweater pocket and retrieved a stake. She leapt to her feet and dove at her attacker,  

“Getting brave now, huh? Attacking me right in front of my house?” she taunted. She knocked the vamp to the ground.  

“Were you looking for me? Decided the cemetery wasn’t public enough?” She straddled him and punched him first with her left fist, then her right, over and over.  

“Tell me! Why were you looking for me? Why were you stalking me?”  

The vamp grabbed her arms to prevent her fists from further pummeling him. “Angelus wants you,” he said.

Buffy stopped, stunned. “What?!”  

“Angelus…he ordered me to bring you to him.”  

“Angel. You mean, Angel,” she said, forgetting that the man underneath her was a vampire. 

“No, Angelus. He’s back, and he wants you,” the vampire said before throwing her off him and jumping to his feet. Buffy snapped back into Slayer-mode and performed a spin-kick that flattened the vamp. She tossed her stake down at his heart and watched as he disappeared.  

Angelus?  

 

Part Two

Buffy bolted upright in her bed. Just a dream, just a dream, she thought. She reached over to her night-stand and looked at the clock. 9:30 in the morning…my alarm didn’t go off. She shrugged, trying to shake off the dream and reached for the glass at her bedside. Taking a drink of water she suddenly froze. Something’s wrong, Buffy thought. Something’s wrong with Angel. The vampire in my dream said he changed. He couldn’t…he knows the risks. He’s okay. He has to be. Cordy would have called, Wesley, someone. The Fang Gang was still together after all these years and they and the Scoobies kept each other informed of any little problem that might affect the others.

Cordy’s acting career had taken off for a while and she had been getting the attention she had always felt she deserved. But Cordy wasn’t high-school Cordy anymore. She had grown up; become an actual caring, compassionate human being, much to Buffy’s disbelief. After a bad experience on a set, along with the ending of a relationship with a co-star, Cordy had returned to the detective agency, which had long since reassumed the name of Angel Investigations, and was again under the order of said vampire. Cordelia had decided that acting wasn’t for her. With all the attention she received, she never felt a connection with the people around her. So Angel Investigations lived on, Angel, Cordy, Wesley and Gunn with it.  

Wesley was married to a young woman named Chelsea, whom Buffy had only met a few times, but who had seemed nice enough. Cordy and Gunn had finally admitted to each other the feelings they had kept buried for so many years and were now married as well. Buffy liked Gunn immensely, especially after he saved Willow from a Gohra demon a few years back and, in the process, had both his arms broken.  

Only Angel remained alone. And me.  

Angel couldn’t have changed. How could he have? Her next thought sent her reeling…he had found perfect happiness with another. That was the only explanation.  

The phone on her nightstand rang and she jumped four feet in the air. She leapt off the mattress and snatched it up.  

“Hello?” she said to a dial tone.  

“Stupid prank callers,” she mumbled out loud, but something about the call struck a nerve. She returned the phone to the receiver and then picked it up again. Dialing quickly she muttered, “Come on, come on, answer.”  

“Hello, Angel Investigations,” a female voice answered on the other end.  

“Cordelia? It’s Buffy. I was just wondering…is everything okay up there?”  

Cordelia paused, taking in Buffy’s words. “Buffy! You have excellent timing…we were just getting ready to call you.”  

Buffy ignored her. “Something’s wrong. I feel it. It’s Angel, isn’t it? He’s changed.”

In LA, Cordelia stared at Wesley and Gunn, surprised at the Slayer’s words. “Wow…you’re so close…that’s amazing…hey! Are you getting visions now too?”  

“No, Buffy said weakly. “No visions. Just dreams,” she said, her voice trailing off as she leaned against a wall and slid to the floor. Slowly, she filled Cordelia in on her dream.  

There was a beat before Cordelia’s voice came through on the other end, slowly, confused. “Buffy, Angel hasn’t changed. But I think he’s going to. For now he’s sleeping in his apartment, and you can trust me on this—no perfect happiness has been found.” There was a small degree of comfort in Cordy’s words but it was lost on Buffy in her state of shock. What was going on?  

“Wh-what happened in your vision?” Buffy asked. Cordelia's visions had helped the Scoobies many times over the past years. The Powers That Be granted the LA gang the courtesy of alerting their Sunnydale friends of impending danger, but only if Angel or Cordy themselves were directly involved.  

“It just happened, maybe an hour ago…,” Cordy began, “…my recovery time isn’t so good anymore. Sometimes it takes days before I can see clearly again, before I can talk to anyone. This one was different. It came to me, more clearly than any other vision before, and longer. And no pain afterwards. Man, I hope this keeps up.”  

Buffy sighed. “Cordy….”  

“I saw Angel, with his regular face, standing in front of you. You were talking, very emotionally, very seriously. Everyone was there. We were in Sunnydale, and Willow and Xander and Anya, Giles, even me and Wesley and Gunn. All standing around, watching you two talk. In a circle, maybe for a spell? In my vision, I kind of floated around you two, watching you from all sides. You were crying. Angel said something like, ‘He’s coming…I can’t…’ and suddenly his whole body doubled over and when he stood up again, his game face was on and you backed up, to get away.”

She paused, wearily, before continuing, as Buffy sat on the floor in shock, listening intently but hardly aware of herself or her surroundings. “Angelus reached for you, tried to grab you, and you tried to back out of the circle we formed around you two, but you couldn’t. None of us tried to stop you, but it was like some kind of force kept you inside. Angelus grabbed you and you tried to fight him, but he held your arms and leaned in to bite you.”  

Buffy stared at the wall ahead of her, barely aware that Cordelia had stopped talking. Finally she moved the phone back up to her mouth. “What happened?”  

“I don’t know. That’s all I saw. I’ve even been channeling, chanting, trying to see if I can get any more out of it, but it’s not working and I’ve got a huge cramp in my hand from shaking this stupid magical gourd Wesley gave me.”  

“You’ve got to come to Sunnydale. We have to know what this means. I mean, if Angel is going to somehow become Angelus…at least we have some warning,” Buffy said, trying to focus on the conversation.

“Sure…we--me, Wesley and Gunn--kinda already decided that, but we haven’t told Angel yet. We don’t know what this means.”  

“You said…he hasn’t…I mean, Angel hasn’t been with…anyone…?”  

Cordy’s voice turned warm, sympathetic. “No. Not that we know of. And I think we’d know if he had. Angelus isn’t exactly subtle.”  

Buffy paused, thinking. “I guess you need to tell him. Try and convince him to come here. If he won’t listen to you, or refuses to come here, I’ll try to talk to him. And I’ll talk to Giles and Willow, see if they can help figure this out.”  

“Okay. We’ll go wake him up and someone will let you know when we’ve left.”  

“You can stay here, at my house, if you want.”  

Pause. “Sure, okay. Thanks.”  

“It’s just me and Willow here, now, you know.”  

“Yeah...” Cordy said, softly. They all knew that the pain of losing both her mother and her sister so closely together, even though it was six years ago, still pierced Buffy through and through.  

Cordy cleared her throat. “Okay. Well, stay by the phone. I’ll call you soon.”  

“Okay. If I’m not here, try the Magic Box. I’ll round everyone up for this.”  

Buffy hung up the phone and sat against the wall, confused and scared, trying to make sense of the situation, of

Cordelia’s vision. I can’t face Angelus again. I can’t kill him again. I can’t lose him again.  

*LA…shortly after the phone conversation*  

Cordy faced Wesley and Gunn. “Well, she’s, needless to say, freaked. She agrees that we should bring Angel back to Sunnydale. Oh, joy! Reunion time! Why can’t we ever all just get together for a Saturday afternoon BBQ? You know, without the sun part, but…without all the drama and evil too?” She relayed Buffy’s dream to the two men standing before her.  

Wesley frowned. “I can only imagine. Facing Angelus has never been easy, but I’m sure it’s worse for her.” He sighed, resigning himself to the situation. “I guess we should go wake Angel.”  

Gunn looked from Wesley to Cordelia then clapped his hands together. “I’ll get the weapons, just in case.”  

The three walked downstairs to Angel’s apartment and Wesley stepped into his room, a stake behind his back. “Angel?”  

After a moment Angel stirred awake. “Wesley? What is it?”  

“We need to talk to you. Can you come out here for a moment? It’s serious.”  

Angel sat up, still sleepy and slightly confused. “Sure…give me a second.” He swung his legs over the side of the bed and grabbed the pants crumpled on the floor next to him. He pulled them on, took a black dress shirt off a chair and shrugged into it. Buttoning it, it walked into the outer hallway where Cordelia and Gunn stood, both armed to the teeth.  

“What’s going on?” Angel asked, bewildered, fingering through his mussed hair.  

“You tell us, Angel-boy,” Cordelia said, with as much menace as she could muster.  

Angel shook his head, “I’m sorry? Did I miss something?”  

Wesley stepped forward. “Cordelia had a vision. We were all in it, back in Sunnydale. You and Buffy were talking, and you reverted to Angelus in front of us all, with what seems like no provocation.”  

Angel stared at them. “When?”  

“When did I have the vision? About an hour and a half ago, but if you're asking when does Mr. Unpleasant arrive? I'm not sure,” Cordelia said, her tone lighter, but at the same time she leveled the crossbow she held in front of her, aiming directly at Angel’s heart.  

“Why are you just now waking me?”  

“We got a phone call before we could come down here,” Gunn answered.  

“A phone call? Couldn’t you have taken a message?”  

The three exchanged glances. “It was Buffy,” Wesley said.  

Angel’s statement changed, softened, then hardened from concern. “Buffy? Why? What’s wrong?”  

“It seems that the Slayer still has her prophetic dreams. She dreamt that she was out patrolling and you sent a vampire after her, as a messenger. A messenger from Angelus, actually, to tell her that you, he, wanted to see her,” Wesley explained. “She called us to find out if you had…changed. She’s insisting that we all come to Sunnydale to figure this out. We tend to agree with her.”  

Angel sat down on his couch, taking it all in. “But I haven’t…you know…known perfect happiness. And I don’t intend to! Maybe the vision is telling you that if I go to Sunnydale that Buffy and I will…”  

“Get groiny?” Cordelia supplied.  

Angel winced at her choice of words, "...be together."  

“I doubt it. You know you can’t, bro. I mean, plus, we’ll all be there making sure that things stay vertical between you and the mighty Buff,” Gunn said.  

“Angel,” Wesley started, “We have to go. Cordelia’s vision this time was different. No pain. No suffering during or afterwards. In fact, she says that it was the clearest image she’s ever had, she could see everything like it was really happening. Her visions are never wrong. If the Powers say you should be in Sunnydale, I think it’s best to adhere to their wishes.”

Angel sat on the arm of the couch, thinking over what his employees were telling him. Finally he nodded, slowly.  

“You’re right. We’ll leave as soon as I run an errand. We’ll take my car, the windows are already painted anyway, so we don’t have to wait for night.”  

“What errand? Where are you going? You’re not going anywhere alone, mister!” Cordelia cried.  

Angel looked at his three friends, the only real friends he had in his years in LA. “If I'm going to change, and it seems like I will according to both Cordelia's vision and Buffy's dream, then I need to know more. I’m going to Caritas. If you’re coming, we leave in five minutes.”  

*Caritas*  

The four of them walked into the Karaoke Bar together, dreading what was coming up. Singing, for any of them, was painful without quite a bit of alcohol. Or what Gunn liked to refer to as “liquid courage.”  

“Well…aren’t we all just buckets of sunshine tonight,” a voice from behind them said. The turned to find the Host, the owner and resident psychic power of the club. “I’d ask what brings you here but I’m sure I already know.” His face suddenly turned serious, “Hmm…you kiddies better get up there and do-wop it up and I mean pronto. From the vibes I’m getting off you four, I don’t want you in here too long. Bad for the karma. And I mean mine, not yours.”  

Angel turned to their green-skinned companion. “All of us? We all four have to sing?”  

The Host smiled knowingly. “Trust me. It’s as much to my regret as to yours, mis amigos. But I’m pulling some mighty strong waves off you four. Can’t you ever stay out of trouble?” He sipped on a cocktail, then waved to someone standing across the room. “Manny! Love ya! Get yourself a drink and I’ll be with you in just a second, okay babe?”

Turning back to Angel and the rest he motioned towards the stage. “Well? Get up there! I’m dying to know what’s in store for you, for a change. Just make it quick and as on-key as possible, okay?”  

Cordelia, whose face had gone ashen at the thought of signing, again, on the stage, turned to her friends. “This is a nightmare! Why do we all have to sing? My vision was about Angel!”  

The Host smiled at her and pat her on the cheek. “My lovely, but tone-deaf child. I don’t know. I’m merely a vessel. Get up there, let me hear anything but Barbra, ‘cause you’d murder anything she ever did, and we’ll see what I can do.”  

Gunn, not particularly loving the idea of singing, but having already resigned himself to doing it, was flipping through the song playbook. “Hey! They’ve got Barry White in here!”  

Cordelia rolled her eyes and grabbed the book out of his hands. “We’re so not letting you pick.”  

Two verses and a few choruses of “Walk Like an Egyptian” later, the Host sat down with them, looking shaken. “I don’t know what you did, kid, but the Powers are coming through loud and clear,” he said to Angel. “You’ve got to get out of here, out of LA and I mean like yesterday. Back to where it all began, but not for you, for her.”  

Angel stared at him. “For her?” he said, pointing to Cordy. “Where are you from?”  

The Host sighed impatiently. “Not for her, her. For the Slayer. For your Slayer. You need to locomote in a bad way and get down there before it’s too late for you.”  

“What are you talking about?” Angel asked. “Too late for what? Cordelia’s vision said that I change, but how? Why?”  

“That’s for you to find out, but let me tell you. If you’re strong enough, if you can reach through him, you’ll have everything you've ever wanted. If you can’t…you will truly have failed,” the Host said, cryptically.  

“Strong enough for what? Reach through him? Who’s him? And what about us? Why did we have to sing just to hear about Angel?” Gunn asked.  

The Host tapped his glass with a long green finger. “So impatient, grasshopper! You all are a part of the Master Plan, capital M, capital P. What you will get from this experience, from this journey you’re about to go on will make you better, will change you. All I can tell you is that you have to go alone…just the four of you, and meet with the six. Eight to form, two to fight.”  

“What?! What kind of advice is this?” Cordy snapped.  

Wesley sat silent, thinking. Suddenly he smiled. “Thanks…we’d better be going now. Come on!” he said when Cordy began to protest. “We’ve got to get on the road. If Angel’s going to turn, I’d really rather it wasn’t when I’m in a car with him.”  

They stood up and began to walk out. When they reached the car Angel jumped inside and threw off the black blanket he had wrapped around him for sun-protection. He turned to Wesley. “What did you get out of that? You were awfully quiet.”  

“I don’t know just yet. But the part about us going to Sunnydale, the ten…the four of us and…well, I can only come up with five in Sunnydale, but the circle is of the eight, like the one Cordelia saw in her vision. The two surrounded by the eight are you and Buffy, I’m sure of that.”  

“Buffy, Willow, Giles, Xander, Anya…and?” Angel asked.  

“I’m not sure yet. That doesn’t leave anyone, does it? I guess we’ll find out when we get there.”  

“Maybe it’s Olivia?” Cordy asked.  

“Maybe,” Wesley said, unconvinced. "And the part about 'back to the beginning...' you said you saw Buffy called to her duty as a Slayer, Angel. Maybe it refers to Buffy and when she was first called."  

Angel shook his head. "No, Buffy was called in LA. Right before her parents divorced. Joyce moved her to Sunnydale shortly after."  

Gunn popped up from the back seat. "But you actually met Buffy in Sunnydale, so maybe it's talking about you two...your relationship...but why?"  

"Maybe 'cause it will never be resolved?" Cordelia chimed in sarcastically. Gunn shot her a look that said, "Not Now," but Cordy ignored him. "What?! Oh, please. We all know it's not over between them. I mean, really, all that stands between them getting back together, besides a two-hour road trip, is Angel's lack of human-ness."  

Gunn rolled his eyes. "That's not what I meant...if you'd shut your trap for a minute I could explain..."  

Wesley cut them off, “Everyone collect a bag for our trip. I don’t know how long this will last. I’ll have to tell Chelsea that she can’t come. She won’t much care for that, but I won’t have her in danger. Besides, the Host said only the four of us are to go to Sunnydale.”  

“We leave immediately. We can be in Sunnydale by dark, which I’d really prefer,” Angel said, throwing the blanket into the backseat.  

“I keep trying to tell you, buy better blankets!” Cordelia commented from the back seat. “This one’s all itchy! You need a nice cotton blend…”  

Bags were packed, good-byes were said. They were on the road for Sunnydale within an hour.  

 
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