Disclaimer: I think we already covered this :)

Author’s Note: Ah, the burning question: as we’re crossing over a bit into A:tS here, where in that episode cycle are we? The Angel scenes should be considered as taking place between Epiphany and Disharmony. Just so you know.

**************************************

“Dammit, that is simply unacceptable! Find out what happened and who was involved and I want to know now!” Quentin slammed down the telephone and looked at a determined Lydia, who had entered just in time to catch this last bit of the man’s tirade.

“I realize this is a bad time, but I need you to hear me out about Aldric. I won’t leave until you do.” Quentin simply stared at her for a moment, then moved forward to take her elbow gently.

“Lydia, I have some news. Perhaps you’d best sit down.” Lydia shook him off, suddenly frightened out of her mind by his grave tone.

“No, I don’t want to sit, tell me, please! Did something happen to Aldric?”

“The Retrieval Team was set upon by unknown forces. Their van was found...burning. Everyone inside was dead.”

Lydia choked back a sob. *No, he’s not dead! My brother cannot be dead!* Quentin gave her another somber pat on the shoulder. He was uncertain if the next bit was actually good news.

“The team that was sent to capture your brother consisted of three men. There were only three bodies found inside the van, but they were burned beyond recognition. We have to wait for identification.”

“But someone got out. That’s what you’re saying! You think Aldric escaped!” Her happy relief at that thought was quickly dampened by anger. “But you believe that he’s responsible for this. That he killed them! Quentin, you have to know that’s impossible!”

“My dear, I don’t know what to believe at the moment. But even you have to admit, these circumstances do not look good for Aldric.” Lydia looked down, her fists clenched until the knuckles looked like parchment. Quentin cleared his throat reluctantly. “I hate to add to your worries now, Lydia, but I‘m afraid there is another matter. Have you heard from your father recently?” Lydia blinked at the unexpected question.

“No, I thought he was away on Council business. You haven’t heard from him?” Quentin sighed.

“Gillian spoke to him yesterday. We expected him back earlier today, and I was waiting to tell him about Aldric’s troubles face to face. I felt I owed Geoffrey that courtesy as his friend and because of the standing in the Watchers Council that your family shares. But now it seems we are unable to find him. We even tried a location spell to no avail. I was hoping you could shed some light on his whereabouts.”

“I’m sorry, Quentin. I have no idea where my father might be.” Lydia allowed herself to be led to a chair by Quentin and slowly sank into it, dazed. *My brother is at best missing, at worst dead, and now I find out my father is missing as well. This can’t be happening! It’s unreal.* Quentin buzzed his secretary and asked that she bring them in some tea. As he hung up the line, it rang again immediately. He picked up the receiver impatiently.

“Travers here. Philip, good, you have news?” Lydia strained, but could not make out what the voice on the phone was saying. Quentin merely nodded, grunted, or gave small affirmative comments in response during the fairly brief conversation. Finally he hung up the phone and gave her a troubled look.

“Was that about Father? Or Aldric?”

“Phillip located a witness to the van incident. A man reported that he saw the van held up by some kind of force field, a body was floated out the back of the van and then it burst into flames. The witness said there was another man standing by the road, and that both that man and the body from the van vanished into thin air. He believed it to be the work of alien invaders.” Quentin shook his head ruefully. “Your brother was in all likelihood the one who escaped, Lydia. It does not sound like he engineered his own rescue. Someone was either helping him...”

“Or he‘s been abducted. By someone completely unknown to us. Someone wielding very powerful magick.” Gillian entered and began setting up the tea tray.

“Indeed. Dark magick. We have no way of knowing if your brother is working with this someone, or if he is in peril. But there are definitely malevolent forces at work here.” Lydia stood, a new idea forming. She waved her hand in a shooing gesture at Gillian who was now trying to hand her a teacup.

“I want to see where it happened.” At her declaration, Quentin gaped at her, shocked.

“Lydia, it’s quite horrific, I really see no point...” Quentin motioned for Gillian to leave. She did so with a sympathetic glance towards Lydia.

“He’s my brother, Quentin. I know him better than anyone. We can sense things about each other sometimes. Maybe, if I see where he last was seen, I can get some kind of clue, some glimmer of where he might be, who might have taken him. I know he would have left some message behind if he was at all able, but I may be the only one who would be able to find or comprehend it.” She looked at him, a glint of a tear the only sign of her great distress. “Please, I must do this.”

“Very well. I’ll have someone drive you out there. And I hope you’re successful, Lydia, I truly do. I must admit, I have a very uneasy feeling about all of this.” Lydia allowed him to escort her out. She wasn’t going to admit it to Quentin, but she had more than just an uneasy feeling about what was happening. She felt a true sense of doom.

**************************************

It wasn’t until he got to Los Angeles that Spike realized he might have a problem locating Angel. Where the office of his company had once been was now a construction sight with a sign that said a new Starbucks would be opening soon. *Because we so desperately needed another one of those!* Spike thought sarcastically, staring at it through the blacked out windows of his car. Spike could sense when his sire was near, and he knew he would be able to locate him eventually. *But I can’t exactly go around like a bloodhound sniffing the air, now can I, not to mention the flames shooting out of my head might be something of a bother. Besides, time’s running out.* Spike had begun having this overwhelming sense of urgency about an hour ago. He didn’t know where it was coming from, but he knew he had to find the last friend, his sire, and perform the ritual soon. The sooner the better. Spike closed his eyes, the image of Lydia once again flashing across his eyelids. She was looking a bit pissy to him.

“Well, if you have any ideas, luv, now’s the time. I’m fresh out,” he said. The image of phone book flashed into his head, along with a smug Lydia. “Fine, well, I guess you’re a bloody genius, but that‘s not good enough. Might tell us where his office is, but no way of knowing if he’s actually in there, is there? We need something a bit more definite.” The words of a spell suddenly popped into his head, and he rushed to scribble them down on the side of the box of Weetabix he had brought along to liven up his lunch.

“Wait, luv, I’ll never remember...oh!” He stopped protesting and writing when he realized that not only did he remember all the words to the spell, he knew exactly what it would do. “Lost and found spell, eh? Should do the trick. I’m gettin’ to not mind so much that you’re rattling around in my head, pet.” Spike felt a sudden sense of the Watcher’s sadness, followed by a renewed sense of urgency. *Must do the spell. There’s not much time.* Spike prepared himself for a moment, then spoke the words of the spell as he traced a mystical symbol in the air with his hands, reciting the spell:

“Aradia, Goddess of the lost,

the path is murky, the woods are dense,

darkness pervades, my friend is lost,

I beseech thee, bring the light

Shine the way to him.”

Spike opened his eyes and saw a small light like a firefly appear in front of him. “Hello there, did I conjure you?” It made a kind of buzzing sound. The light got slightly brighter, then moved towards the windshield. Spike instinctively knew he should follow its directions. Spike shifted the car into drive and headed off. “Well, then, lead on, Tink!”

Spike had decided that taking directions from a small buzzing light while driving in Los Angeles was not the smartest or safest thing he had done in his undead life. He got confirmation for that when the conjured guiding light suddenly flew out of his car window and up through the door of a hotel on the other side of the street. Spike slammed on the brakes, causing a cacophony of horns and swear words to erupt around him, including the choice selection coming from his own mouth. He looked up at the Hyperion Hotel. *Swank. So the sire’s gone all Hollywood. Suits him somehow.* He pulled roughly off the road, parking in a place that no sane person would ever construe as having been intended for parking a car. Making sure he had the last talisman and the Stone of Mnemosyne secure in his pocket, he grabbed a new blanket he had brought for this occasion and hurled himself out of the car, running across all the lanes of traffic, ignoring the horns and screaming brakes that accompanied this mad dash. He didn’t stop until he’d reached the relative safety of the shaded overhang in front of the hotel. Pausing to take the blanket from his head, he barged in through the doors and almost immediately found himself up against a wall, Angel’s arm against his throat. While it wouldn’t matter that he couldn’t breathe, it was awfully painful, and Spike struggled against him.

“Spike, what are you doing here? Looking for Dru?” Spike ogled him in total surprise. This was the last question he’d expected.

“Hello to you, too, granddad!” Spike managed to gasp out. “And since when are you and Dru chummy again? She’s been to Sunnydale, you know.” Angel released his chokehold but kept a firm grip on the younger vampire.

“Dru’s in Sunnydale? Does Buffy know?” Angel asked urgently.

“Well, she didn’t, but when our girl took a cattle prod to her and nearly killed her, I think she got an inkling that she might be around.” Angel leaned in closer, an alarmed look on his face. Spike smirked back at him. “Good thing old Spike was around to save the day, the Slayer’s fighting fit no thanks to you. Dru’s gone away now. But if you knew she was about, a little heads up for your friends might have been nice. But maybe you don‘t really care about Buffy that way anymore, is that it?” Spike got a great deal of satisfaction out of taking this self-righteous tone, feeling absolutely no need to explain to Angel about his actual involvement in what happened with Buffy and Drusilla. He was rewarded with an guilt-ridden look and a relaxing of his grip from the souled vampire. He chose the opportunity to shake his sire off, walking away.

“Of course I care about Buffy. Things have just been...there’s been a lot going on, with Dru and Darla-” Spike whirled around, flabbergasted.

“Darla? As in my previously very dusty great-grandmother Darla?” At Angel’s curt nod, he rolled his eyes. “What is it with you two? Some sort of get-out-of-Hell-free card you‘re not sharing with the rest of us? Makes me feel left out.”

“That’s not what...wait a minute, did I just hear you say you rescued Buffy? Am I actually supposed to believe that?” Spike puffed up a little, defiantly lighting a cigarette.

“You really should check in with the Slayer more, mate. I’m part of the team now. An integral part, especially as far as Buffy’s concerned.” He drew deeply from the cigarette, watching his grandsire’s reaction. The innuendo in this lie did not escape Angel, and his eyes narrowed angrily.

“You’re lying to me Spike, and I have to ask myself: Why? What’s really going on here?” Spike knew that now was the time to trick Angel into looking at the memory crystal and perform the ritual, but his intense desire to have one up on the man who had bettered him far too often and in the things that were most important to him was overwhelming his reason. He crushed the cigarette under his foot and smiled dangerously at the other vampire.

“You’re so certain that I’m lying, mate? After all, I’m a bad boy, and we know the Slayer likes her men a bit nasty...that commando fella was too pure for her, she sent him packing right quick,” he added, enjoying the surprise flash over the growing anger in Angel’s eyes. *He’s definitely out of the loop, I can tell him anything* “It’s a rough job, but the Slayer has needs that need tending, and with me there’s no risk of pesky soul-loss problems to break the mood. Can’t lose what I don’t already have, can I?”

His gameface now on, Angel charged at Spike, who was ready for him, also wearing his vampire visage. They began exchanging blows, each landing a few good hits while ducking most of them. Spike managed to land a hard kick to Angel’s midsection, knocking him off of his feet. He immediately jumped on top of him and began landing more blows. Angel grabbed his arms and the two vampires wrestled back and forth, rolling along the floor of the hotel.

“Why...are...you...here?” Angel asked again through gritted teeth as he temporarily got the upper hand. Spike quickly turned the tables on him, dragging him to his feet and wrapping him in a bear hug.

“Actually, I came to do this, but this isn‘t exactly the way I planned it.” Spike gave Angel a head butt, causing him to fall back onto the counter, slightly stunned. “It’s alright. I like this way better,” Spike declared gleefully, moving in to cause more damage. Angel grabbed the phone from the counter and hit Spike across the face with it, causing him to bend over in pain. He then picked up the blonde vampire and hurled him across the room. Spike landed hard and was dazed for a moment, long enough for Angel to leap on top of him, holding a stake in killing position.

“Now, let’s try this one more time, Spike. Why are you here, and remember, if you lie to me again, this will be your final answer.”

**************************************

Xander looked around him and smiled. This was one of his favorite dreams. He gazed first at an angelic looking Anya, curled up against him on his left side, then down at Buffy, her head on his right shoulder. Looking down a little further, he frowned, slightly puzzled. *That’s very strange, usually in this dream there isn’t quite so much clothing...and usually we’re not on the floor. There’s something weird here.* At that moment, Buffy’s eyes fluttered open, she looked up at him and smiled sleepily.

“G’morning, Xander.” Her eyes drifted closed once more for a second, then she leapt to her feet with a horrified shriek. “Xander!” Buffy’s scream both awoke Anya and caused Xander to jump up as well.

“Buffy! I can explain!” Xander said without thinking, his mind in overload. *Not a dream, not a dream, not a dream, not a dream.* Anya had climbed to her feet slowly, and both she and Buffy were looking at him in anticipation. He thought hard for a moment, then shrugged. “Nope, I have absolutely no idea what’s going on here.” All three then looked around them, taking in their surroundings. “Hey, we’re in the Commons, and...here’s my window.” Xander walked up to the window, puzzled. He turned back to the girls. “The last thing I remember, Buffy went to patrol and I was finishing up the repair. But I don’t remember actually being done. I must have done this, though, unless it was the work of clever window gnomes.” Buffy nodded, her brow furrowed as she tried to jog her own memory.

“I went out on patrol, and I ran into a few vampires...”

“More like a half dozen,” Anya interjected matter-of-factly. “I was coming to take you home, honey, and I saw Buffy fighting some vampires, so I yelled, ‘Hey, Buffy!’”

“Which startled the hell out of me, which in turn allowed a vamp to get the better of me for a second.” Buffy glared at Anya, who nodded enthusiastically, oblivious to Buffy’s aggravation.

“Yes, he had you pinned before you managed to kick him off and stake him. It made the battle much more exciting, like those wrestling shows that Xander likes to watch.” Xander gave Buffy a sheepish shrug as Anya continued. “And then I came over to help, and dusted a vampire on my own! Buffy got the rest.” Anya smiled at Xander. “I enjoyed the killing. Reminded me of my vengeance days.” Xander shuddered.

“Ahn, there’s major weirdness going on. Please don’t be scary now.”

“Anyway,” Buffy emphasized the word, giving the couple an annoyed look, “after the vamps were all dusted, we were heading over here...but I don’t remember ever getting here. It all gets fuzzy after that.” Anya nodded in agreement.

“But we obviously got here, because here we are. Together. Waking up on the floor.” Anya’s eyes lit up, an idea forming. “Oh! Maybe we all got drunk together, and we don’t remember, because we all got drunk! Together.”

“Sure, because that’s something that we do, like, every other never.” Buffy’s peppy sarcasm mirrored the look in Xander’s eyes. Anya crossed her arms across her chest in a pout. Buffy looked at the mysteriously finished window, lost in thought, then her eyes widened as she realized just how bright it was outside. “Oh my God! What time is it?” She grabbed Xander’s wrist, looked at his watch, and let out a little yelp. “My mom must be freaking! She knew I was patrolling last night - and Giles! I didn’t check in with Giles!”

“I think you just said the magic word, Buff. We need Giles. Maybe this is hooked into that other wacky stuff that’s been happening.” Xander instantly realized he had put his foot in his mouth.

“Other wacky stuff? Giles said there was nothing going on other than Glory. Why do I get the feeling I‘m over here and the loop is to my right?” Buffy’s eyes narrowed as both Anya and Xander avoided her gaze. Xander shuffled his feet nervously.

“It might not be anything, we aren’t really sure...I think we need to talk to Giles. Right away.” Buffy gave him a look that told him that he was not out of trouble with her in the least, then sighed.

“As soon as I call my Mom, she must be scared to death,” she called back. Xander and Anya went to pack up Xander’s tools and restore order to the room as Buffy dialed her home number. Joyce picked up breathlessly on the second ring.

“Buffy?”

“Mom, it’s me, I’m fine.” Buffy could hear her mother’s sigh of relief.

“You didn’t call, I checked the hospitals...you’re sure you’re alright?”

“Yes, I’m fine...it’s a long story, and I’m not really sure how to explain it to you right now, but I’m okay, not a scratch on me. I’m with Xander and Anya.”

“Are you coming home?” Buffy could tell her mother would only really be assured when she saw her daughter for herself. She smiled.

“In a while. I need to go see Giles and go over some things, but then I’ll be back.”

“Okay, honey. I’ll be here. Love you.”

“You too, Mom.” Buffy nodded at Xander as she hung up the receiver, and the three headed to Xander’s car.

“Did anyone else have any weird dreams? I dreamt about Spike,” Anya remarked. A shocked look of recognition passed over Xander’s face before he hastily disclaimed.

“No dreams here, totally dreamless, say, is anyone else hungry? I’m hungry.” Buffy smirked into her hand, vague memories of a dream about Spike almost coming into focus in her own mind, then vanishing like ghosts.

**************************************

Lydia smiled reassuringly at the young trainee who had been assigned to chauffeur her back to her flat. The young woman had been shocked when Lydia had given her an address in this particular part of the city. Now she looked back at her charge doubtfully.

“You live here, Miss Stokes-Martin?” Lydia smiled at the girl and shook her head reassuringly.

“Indeed no, Dinah. I need to visit an acquaintance who may have some information of value to the Council.”

“I’d best come with you, then,” Dinah replied, every fiber of her being screaming reluctance to do so. Despite the stress and worry she was suffering, Lydia had to hold in a burst of laughter at the girl’s obvious discomfort.

“You needn’t bother, I’m afraid this might take a while. I’ll find my own way back to my flat, not to worry.” Lydia exited the car before the girl could muster up another half-hearted protest, and with a wave that was much more cheery then she felt. Her trip to the countryside had been not what one might call fruitful. She had been unable to turn up any real clues about her brother’s disappearance, although she had gotten a strong sense that he was still alive. She had also gotten a sense of who might be responsible, but she was unwilling to allow herself to contemplate that quite yet. The ramifications of the idea that was now nagging at the back of her mind were more than she could bear. To top it off, Spike’s visit to Angelus had all gone horribly wrong. She had let out a squeal of frustration at one point that had made poor, skittish Dinah nearly drive the car off the road, then weakly claimed that she had seen a cat almost run in front of the car. She could tell by the look Dinah gave her in response that she hadn’t been entirely convincing. Too many things were starting to unravel, and that Janice might have some clue or piece of knowledge of which she was still unaware was her last bit of hope.

Lydia strode up to the seedy looking door and knocked firmly. After several knocks with no response, she began to call out the woman’s name. Dread formed a knot in her stomach as she tried the doorknob, and intensified as she found the door unlocked. The door swung open, and she stepped inside.

She blinked into the dimly lit room, unsurprised to find that items had been strewn about carelessly. Someone else had obviously already been here, and they had searched the place. Lydia began to move with caution through the disarray, searching for a lamp that might at least illuminate the chaos. Something caught her heel and she stumbled a bit, reflexively looking down to see what made her trip. Janice’s unseeing eyes peered back at her, her brassy lips pulled back in a frozen scream of horror. Lydia screamed and reeled back. She found that while she was sickened at finding her brother’s friend dead, a part of her had expected it.

Just as part of her was unsurprised to look up now into the eyes of the murderer.