March 5, 2005

9.18 pm

Hands clasped together tightly, Xander rested them in his lap as
he sat quietly in the backseat of Angel's large car, in between
Riley and Graham. Xander could hear Riley talking to him, but it
was too much effort to concentrate. He feigned interest,
occasionally nodding when Riley seemed to pause for breath.

He couldn't focus on what Riley was saying; he was too upset by
what was happening so he smiled.

Xander caught a few words here and there; Wesley, Cordelia,
roast beef and cotton as the four men drove from one of L.A.'s
outer suburbs and back into the heart of the bustling city.
Attention turned to the nightlife going on in the streets
surrounding the car; Xander let his mind drift as Riley
continued to talk to him.

It was almost like a dream. Only an hour ago, he had been in
the shower, washing the last remnants of his owner's cum from
his body. Just as Xander had started to rinse the conditioner
from his hair, he had heard a loud crash from within the
apartment closely followed by yelling and gunfire. Terrified,
he had huddled in the corner of the shower, the warm water
flowing over his shivering body. Even after the screaming and
snarling had died down, Xander had prayed for whoever would find
him to either kill him quickly or to be at least no worse than
his owner.

He rocked back and forth under the steadily cooling water, not
responding to the name that was called out. He knew Xander was
his real name, but his training held fast. Hearing 'Scott'
finally allowed him to rise unsteadily to his feet. Shower
turned off, Xander had walked out towards the voices, dripping
water with each step. As he had rounded a corner and stepped
into the main living area, Xander had encountered a black clad
figure coming towards him. In an instant reaction, Xander had
come to a halt, head bowed and hands clasped behind his back.
Patiently waiting for an order.

Only a few moments later, he had found himself looking up at
Angel's face and Xander had been filled with a little hope and
relief. Mostly, he had been instantly filled with almost
overwhelming disappointment that Spike hadn't been the first to
find him. Xander had been told to get dressed as fast as
possible, which he had done, all the while consoling himself
with the knowledge that Spike was obviously waiting in the car
for him.

At the light touch on his lower arm, Xander felt his mind pulled
back to the present. With a glance at Graham sitting on his
right side, Xander allowed his smile to widen just a little more
even as the bitter feeling of betrayal started to wash away
the disappointment.

Spike didn't love him anymore. If he did, then he would have
been the one to find Xander, not Angel or any of the others.

Stuttering a soft reply to Graham's question, Xander laughed as
he was told that Spike was waiting for him back at the Hyperion,
earning himself a startled look from the man next to him.

It didn't matter any more.

Spike had lied to him. He had promised to find him, not wait
while Angel and the others took however long they wanted to
eventually come and get him.

Xander didn't want to believe it but it was all too clear to for
everyone to see.

Spike had promised.

Most of all, Spike had lied.

=======================================================

"Bloody hell, what's taking the f'n ponce so long?" demanded
Spike, his voice echoing through the hotel's otherwise deserted
lobby. The floor space covered easily by the agitated vampire
as he paced backwards and forth, Spike couldn't for the unlife
of him work out why he was so anxious to see Xander again.

He knew that everyone was jittery about getting Xander back.
Mainly because no-one knew what condition he would be in once
found. Even after Robin had repeatedly assured them that Xander
was not in the least mentally affected like Leo, while he had
been at Sanity, there was just no guarantee of how much the
auction and resulting buyer had changed him.

Spike fully admitted that he included himself in the jittery
stakes but that still wasn't an explanation of why he had the
urge to just grab Xander and lock him in one of the rooms
upstairs as soon as Xander walked through the hotel doors again.

"Like that isn't gonna send the boy more around the twist" Spike
snorted to himself as he continued to pace, the lobby's carpet
cool and prickly underneath his bare feet. Although his foot
had grown back entirely, he still suffered from severe cramps
that caused his foot to seize up, the foot trying to curl almost
into a tight ball. The good doctor had ordered him to remain
barefoot for a few more weeks in order to get his new tendons
and muscles used to flexing and moving in a natural order.

Toes flexed a few times as one of his muscles threatened to
spasm, Spike sat on the floor, both hands massaging his right
foot gently. As the new muscles twitched and jumped underneath
his pale skin, the vampire twisted his head around to look at
the large clock hanging over the lobby desk.

9.31 pm

"Fuck! Hurry the sodding hell up... knew I should have just
gone myself," he muttered, still angry that Wesley and Joyce had
altered the wards protecting the Hyperion. As of the time W'nth
had found out who had bought Xander, Spike was unable to leave
the hotel, the wards on each exit having been altered so that
the bleached vampire was thrown backwards each time he attempted
to pass through a doorway or window and out into the fresh air.

Wes, he could understand doing it but Joyce... well, that was
different. The anger shoved deep back inside of him before he
found himself throwing another tantrum, Spike shuddered a little
as he recalled the last tantrum he had erupted into. Everyone
had been gathered around the kitchen table, telling him that
there was no way in hell that Spike was going to help Angel
collect Xander. Spike was to stay at the hotel. It was for his
own good... he was still in danger... he could be taken again...
what would it do to Xander if Spike was accidentally dusted
during the retrieval? All those points and many more had been
thrown at him but the more they had yelled at him, the more
worked up Spike had become.

It had resulted in him doing something that he had never done,
even as a fledgling and he still didn't know why he had even
done it. Spike had vamped out and begged his Sire to go,
whining like a puppy in order to get his own way. The growling
and hissing had welled up from deep within his chest, startling
not only himself but also everyone in the kitchen. Angel had
stood staring at him for a moment before he had flown across the
room to stand directly in front of him and had said no. As soon
as Spike had heard it, all the fight had gone out of him. His
bloody Sire had even reminded Spike of his official status, a
Childe to Angel, something that usually got Spike firing off the
worst insults he could think off and it was something that
hadn't even crossed his mind to do.

Spike paused in the middle of his massage for just a moment, his
right middle finger pushing down on a twitching nerve in an
effort to stop the annoying feeling. He had heard a car pull up
outside, the heavy rumbling sound of its engine reaching towards

the hotel lobby. A few more quick rubbing motions against his
slim ankle and Spike rose from the floor and onto his feet
again.

Facing the hotels main entrance, he unconsciously leaned forward
as he strained to count how many people were coming towards the
double doors. Unable and unwilling to stop it, Spike found
himself grinning from ear to ear as he caught Xander's scent as
the Hyperion's heavy front door was slowly opened by Angel. The
first sign that everything was going to be ok.

Of course it was going to be all right.

Spike had kept his promise to the boy.

Xander was home and to Spike that was all that mattered.

Part Thirty-Two  

March 7, 2005

8.43pm

On route to L.A.

Lindsey
==========

Oh God!

Oooohhhhh God!

Ohgodohgodohgodohgod.....

I'm in deep shit. Not just in deep shit but, never going to
come out of this alive type of deep shit. Maybe it won't be
that bad? Maybe Angel will turn me? If I get turned, I'm not
really that dead am I? I mean, I will be but I won't?

If I get turned, then I could still work for Wolfram and Hart.
That is, if they don't stake me or give me to Tomas. What if I
get turned and then get given to Tomas? Oh my god! What the
fuck am I going to do?

I can't believe this has all gone wrong. Fucking Randall, King
of fuck ups has yet again got my ass in trouble. Should have
fucking known that the shit would hit the fan sooner or later.
You can only work for the devil for so long before your ass gets
bitten. Riding the smooth, well-oiled elevator all the
way to the top I was, right to the top. I've done all that was
asked of me - Hell - even gone out of my way at every
opportunity to prove myself. Surely that's going to account for
something? Yeah, I've stuffed up but who the hell hasn't? I
haven't done it so bad that they aren't gonna come looking for
me, have I?

Surely Wolfram and Hart will notice that I'm missing before too
long and will send a scout party out for me? Maybe Tomas can
have a look in one of his bowls for me?

Fuck. Fuck. FUCK!

Everything was going so well.

Met with one of Randall's clients at his stable. Nothing hard;
just be on hand to transfer the deposit for one of the livestock

into an offshore account. Play nice towards the client and his
liaison person. 'Ohhhh' and 'ahhh' over the stock that Randall's
just broken in. Make sure that Randall doesn't sell the boys
off too cheaply. He's still got on hell of a debt to pay back
to Wolfram and Hart. Nothing hard at all. Didn't tell me that
the magic wards had been turned off, did he?

Nooooooo!

Had to fucking figure that one out for myself when jumping
around like a complete idiot. And chanting did nothing to
activate the sleep spell as we were jumped on from all sides.
Sure, I would have been out for the count as well but at least
Randall and that weird bastard Adam would have put me out of the
way until I was awake again. It would have been so simple.
Just a few words as soon as that cunt Riley barrelled into me
and we would have had a nice snooze while Randall and Adam got
Sire-Fucking-Lancelot, Robin Hood or whoever the hell he thinks
he is and his bunch of merry assholes into secure quarters.
Would have been so easy.

The promotion I would have received would have been
unbelievable. New car, new apartment. Hell, would have even
qualified for one of the firms ready-made trophy wives. Don't
want one but to be offered one, God, what a beautiful thing that
would have been.

Me. Lindsey McDonald. The one to bring Angel in, and not only
Angel but also an ex-watcher, an unknown and two ex-Initiative
soldiers. The bonus on those last two alone would be in the
tens of thousands. Tomas wants the soldiers, wants to have a
nice chat with them about his brother, research wants Mr
Wyndham-Pryce, maybe Tomas would've wanted the unknown as well?
Angel, I
don't have a fucking clue why he's always allowed to walk free
but it's the Original Partners choice. Not just the PTB that
wants him around a little longer. Still, the fact that I
managed to disrupt one of Angels little 'do gooder' missions
would have made the Senior Partners proud, may even have
mentioned it to the Original Partners.

Now that Tomas has everything ready for whatever he's going to
do next, it means that the ceasefire on Angel and his friends is
about to be lifted. That means they are free game, the firm's
put a bounty on each of their heads. A little reward system
for the men and women in line for promotion to Junior Partner.
Find out just which ones have the 'killer' attitude, not to
mention how much stress relief it would provide for the Senior
and Original Partners. Would have meant that I brought them in
early but surely that wouldn't have mattered?

Maybe I would have been told to let them go until the ceasefire
is officially lifted in a few weeks, if that was what was
decided then I would have been more than happy to do it.

Fuck, I am *so* fucked. I don't know what I was thinking! No
way in the world would Angel turn me. He *is* going to
beat the shit out of me, that much I know. Shit...*shit*, what
if he drinks off me? Would it be that bad? Supposed to be
good, addictive actually. The fact that all those disgusting
blood houses are cropping up tells me that. Fucking junkies.
No wonder all the vampires are taking over the city, everybody
just keeps fawning over them.

Wow, I think my balls just shrunk another inch or two. What
fucking balls? I so seriously don't have any. Mr 'I got a set
bigger than yours' Tough Guy. That's me... every fucking
time... as long as I'm on the other end of a phone. Safely
tucked away behind my desk. God, I can't quite pin-point the
exact date that I lost my nuts but they're gone and if they
aren't physically, then Angel or one of his lovely cohorts is
going to make sure I *really* lose them.

I hope its not going to hurt too much. Jesus, just when did I
lose my manhood? Used to be a lot tougher than this. Didn't
feel anywhere as scared as this when that nutter Drusilla and
that bitch, Darla, snacked their way through a whole platoon of
up and coming 'soon to be' Junior Partners. I sure as hell
wasn't scared when I was going head to head with Angel during
the whole resurrection of his Sire deal, even if the prick did
cut off my hand. Didn't feel scared because I knew that it
wasn't my time to go then.

I'm scared now though. Everything has this overwhelming final
tone about it.

I'm tied up in the trunk of Angel's fucking car. There's barely
enough room for me let alone Randall as well. At least he's
still out for the moment. I think that English guy cracked
Randall's skull when he hit him with the rifle. Gonna have one
hell of a headache when he wakes up, that is if he ever does.
Will Angel let Randall live long enough for him to wake up?
God, will Angel let *me* live long enough to pass out?

Where the hell is my spine? Probably still shaking on the floor
along with my balls. Been living too soft, used to be smarter
than this. Should have insisted that Randall take the client to
another part of the house and show him video evidence instead of
up close and personal. Should have asked if everything was
secure. Should have just fucking left after the money was
deposited, not hung about just because I'm a frigging pervert
and wanted to take one of the boys for a test run.

Fuck, I'm a complete dickhead. Wonder how long it's going to
take for me to die? No way is Angel going to let me go quick.
Hell, I wouldn't either. Not after what I've done to people.
No! No fucking way? The car's stopped. Oh shit! The engine's
off...

Is it too late to start praying?

=================================================

10.18pm
==========

Sighing, Kate Lockley turned back to the young detective that
was insisting on talking to her, the bubbling activity around
her ignored for the moment.

"Yes, Johnson, what is it *now*?"

"Ahhhhh, um. The um, er, boys keep saying that they want to be
taken somewhere without demons if possible. Should I get a
counsellor ready down at the station?" enquired the nervous
young man. Trying not to shuffle his feet too much under the
direct glare of his superior officer, Keith Johnson could feel
that he was about to break into a blush at any minute.

"Well, what do *you* think? Are they traumatised enough to
warrant one? Really? So your answer would be? Yes. Good, the
fact that they are seeing 'demons' really says it all doesn't
it?" said Kate snidely. What the hell had she done to be
lumbered with Keith the 'wonder boy'? Oh, that's right, she had
an opinion and had dared to use it back in Sunnydale. The fact
that she had one of the best arrest records at her new precinct
didn't deter her superior from lumping her with all the burnouts
and dim-witted youngsters she could. She knew why she had been
transferred to child pornography, she was wanted gone and people
didn't last more than two to three years in that area. It was
one of the hardest and ugliest sections to be assigned to,
almost everyone quit after they found the constant horror had
got to them too much.

"Well go on. Go. To. The. Car. And. Make. The. Call. Go!" she
snapped at the nervy detective, resisting the urge to smack him
across the back of the head in an effort to help him think
clearer. Thank God everything had gone like it had been
planned. Wesley and Joyce had gone through with the meeting
with Randall and the lawyer, the money transferred without a
problem, something that David was going to track down as
soon as they got the lawyer's laptop back to the hotel. They
had waited until they had seen each of the boys, surveyed the
layout of the farmhouse and the number of Randall's helpers.
Surprisingly enough, there hadn't been too many people close to
Randall's operation. Adam and Fletcher, both whom had been in on
it from the first operation, and two more men, Leonard and
Casey. All of whom were on their way to jail for kidnapping and
holding people against their will. As soon as Kate had talked
to the six boys, she would also be able to charge the men with
rape, torture, blackmail and assault.

Once Joyce and Wesley had seen the boys, they had made
arrangements for one of them to be given the finishing touches
before they picked him up a few days later. As Randall and
Lindsey had walked their 'guests' back to their car, Riley and
the other one, was it Graham, had come up from behind and
managed to restrain them with only a few punches thrown. The
biggest surprise had been when she had been told that Joyce had
taken out Randall herself, hitting him across the back of the
head with a rifle butt. Too hard apparently, Angel was sure
that she had given him concussion at least, if not cracked his
skull. Joyce had made the excuse that she really didn't realise
how strong she was in her temporary form, not that she had shown
the slightest bit of remorse about it.

Made for quite the cute guy actually. If she wasn't already
with David, and Joyce was going to stay that way permanently,
Kate wouldn't mind giving it a try. With a groan, Kate came to
the realisation that she had known Angel for too long if she was

thinking like that, nothing was surprising her these days.
Rubbing at her throbbing temple, she wondered if anyone had an
aspirin handy. She had a very long night ahead of her; it had
already been a few hours. While Angel and his friends had dealt
with Randall and the lawyer, Kate had waited in her car next to
Angel's, just a little way down the road from Randall's new
place.

Once Angel had come back to the car with Joyce in tow, the
vampire had quickly told her what had happened while Joyce
stayed to fill her in on a few more details of the general
set-up before being picked up by Wesley on the way out, followed
by
Angel and the other two. Once they were a few metres down the
road, she had contacted her superior and told her that she had
just gotten a tip off that Randall was in the process of a
business deal involving a small boy and was close by. Not that
the numerous letters in the mail and 'anonymous' phone calls
hadn't paved the way for her case already, something that she
had done since it had been established that Randall was alive.
The best idea she had come up with was getting a few of
Randall's old videos from Angel and had gotten a contact to
'doctor' them so that the demon in them looked like some sort of
subliminal image placed on top of a real person. These she had
posted every two weeks to the precinct, addressed to her, so
that Randall's case would be kept open and at the top of the
local wanted list. Hearing footsteps behind her, she hoped that
it wouldn't be who she thought it would be, only to be bitterly
disappointed.

"Detective? Detective Lockley? Er, Ma'am?"

"What?"

"Um, all the boys are ready to go. I've finally convinced them
to come out of their rooms....Bit shy they are. I'm going to
ride with them, make them feel a bit safer. I mean, if that's
ok. Umm, all right with you?" Keith asked, unable to refrain
himself from shifting foot to foot.

Looking at the man in front of her, Kate wondered if he would
last long in her charge and if maybe she could one day be able
to show him another side to L.A.'s assorted nightlife. Just with
that one statement, Keith had shown that he was more concerned
with the victims and not the perpetrators that almost every
single one of his fellow officers would be more worried about.
Maybe Keith was in the right field, mused Kate as she continued
to observe the now openly nervous detective.

"Yeah, go with them. That's good, getting them to come out so
quickly. How did you do it? I thought that they would be in
their rooms for ages and that we were going to have to call
Psych. Services." Keith beamed with pride at the compliment from
his superior officer.

"Oh...er. Ummm, just told them the truth. Told them what was
going to happen down at the station and that I believed them
when they said that there were demons"

"You did what? Why the hell did you say that?" demanded Kate,
suddenly angry that he had contributed to the boys' paranoia.

"But..um, but it's true. I mean, maybe not in you know, real
demon form, but there are people out there that can be classed
as being so evil, they are well, 'Demons'" ventured Keith,
unsure of what he said wrong.

Kate paused, realising that she had most certainly found someone
that she could share her knowledge and experiences with. Just a
few more months of close work, build up a steady work
relationship and then maybe she could start putting the
youngster in some odd situations and let him come to her with
any questions. If he never did come to her, then it would just
prove that she was wrong and never had she felt that she was so
right about someone. Releasing a heavy sigh, she eyed the
embarrassed man before her.

"Yeah. Yeah, you're right. People like Adam and Fletcher and
the other two. People like Randall Hargraves, you remember
reading about him in the paper about a year ago? Good. Well,
the first two guys, they were involved with Randall and the
Eternal the first time around."

"Oh God. We got them? That's so great but what about Randall
Hargraves? He hasn't gotten away again has he?"

"Oh no. I've got a hunch that we'll catch up to him real soon.
Don't you worry, a person's luck can only last for so long and I
think our Mr. Hargraves' has almost run out." smiled Kate,
pleased to see that Keith was quick on the uptake. Kate stood
looking at the younger man for a moment before he gave her a
quick nod before making his way towards the car holding one of
the more fragile boys.

"Yep, no difference between Randall and a fucking demon. Both
pure and utter evil" Kate muttered to herself as she thought
about the days to come.

Everything was planned down to the last little bit. In a
decision between herself, Angel and everyone at the Hyperion
including David, it had been decided to let Angel get as much
information out of Randall as he possibly could. Kate had given
him two days, after that, Randall was to be left somewhere
deserted and the location called in to her precinct. Randall
would then be arrested and charged with the relevant crimes.
David had looked up the local Judge roster to see which Judges
would be on duty for the next few weeks and when so that Kate
could time the bail hearings for the most unsympathetic judges.
If failing to get a good one, David was prepared to make
certain errors appear in a few choice pieces of filed work and
make them work for Kate's advantage.

God, she was tired already and if she was, then those poor boys
were already at the end of their tethers. Thank God they were
nowhere near as traumatised as Angel had said the boys from
Eternal had been upon being rescued. Then again, he had said it

had been a delayed reaction. Maybe the shit would hit the fan
later. Kate decided to go straight to the precinct and help
Johnson with the boys as soon as the bomb squad had finished its
sweep of Randall's place. This time, they were not taking any
chances.

Nope, this time, nothing was going to be left to chance. What
Angel was going to do with the lawyer, she really didn't want to
know. It was out of her hands entirely and she really couldn't
bring herself to care.

====================================================

10.31pm

Xander
=========

He's always around me. Fluttering, hovering, just... there and
tonight, he's closer than ever to me. Everyone is either
nervous or angry about something and I don't know what. At
least they aren't talking to me. Always asking me stuff. Am I
all right, what do I want to do? Stupid things like that. Why
do I have to do anything? Why can't I just sit and do nothing?
No reading, no TV, no talking to anyone, just sitting?

I don't want to talk to anyone. Doesn't matter anyway, I've
hardly seen anyone. I suppose that they think they are doing
the right thing, giving me space. Time to adjust and breathe.
Give Xander room to breathe, let him get used to things at his
own pace, that sort of thing. I suppose I should be grateful
that they haven't all pounced on me yet. It makes me happy that
they are staying away, doing as Spike's asking them to do. He's
telling them to back off from me, tells them not to use raised
voices and sudden movements like I'm a wounded animal. Suppose
I am in a way, an animal. He doesn't know that most of the time
I can hear him, thinks he's whispering softly enough. Not his
fault though, I had to get used to listening for any signs
that Master was coming to my room, be ready for him before he
walked through the door. Could probably hear a pin drop in the
middle of rush hour traffic.

Every time that I turn around, he's there and it hurts to see
him. I'm a little surprised that I feel this way but I do. I
trusted him for so long. Trusted and believed that he would
come and get me and it hurts that I was wrong. I'm surprised
that I can actually feel surprise. Didn't think that I could
feel that anymore. Thought that Master had 'surprised' me in so
many ways and so often that the feeling was gone, never to
return.

I don't want to talk to him but he's going to ask why I'm not
talking to him soon. I can feel it. The way he almost leaps at
me each time it looks like I'm going to say something to him and
the tiny sinking of his shoulders when he realises that I was
only taking a breath or shifting in my seat. I don't want him
near me, but I don't know how to tell him to go away. I don't
know how to tell anybody anything anymore.

I don't want Wesley talking to me. I can't understand it but he
scares me. He's different, not the same safe Wesley anymore. I
haven't seen Doyle yet but Spike told me that he's had an
accident and that there's something wrong with him as well. I
could hear his voice lose all the smugness when he talked about
Doyle and that scares me too. What could make Spike talk about
someone with respect? How much has changed since last time I
saw them all? Why can't they all be the same?

Angel hasn't changed, why have the others? I'm not sure if I
want to be back. I don't want to go back to Master either but
being here is scary and it wasn't before and I don't know why.
One of Master's friends would take me in. I would get hurt
and tired and hungry or thirsty, depending on the mood of
Master's friend but it would be the same, not scary any more.
I'm confused. I don't know what to think anymore. I don't know
what to do. I'm so tired, I just want to sleep and never wake
up again. No one will talk to me then and they'll leave me
alone. I can be by myself for as long as I want then. When I
was asleep, Master never touched me; he said I kept him awake
each time he tried to share the bed with me. He said that I
would do strange things in my sleep. Spike said that I had
nightmares, maybe I still have them. Maybe Spike really was
telling me the truth when he said that. I thought that he was
just coming up with an excuse to hold me at night. He had to
use an excuse because Angel would hit him otherwise. I thought
he held me because he loved me.

I cried a lot at night when I first starting living at Sanity.
I missed Spike terribly. I kept telling myself that everything
would be okay and that tomorrow Spike would come and get me.
Everyday I told myself that it would be tomorrow and tomorrow
never came only Angel did.

He doesn't love me but I still love him even though he lied to
me and I don't know why. I don't know why I love him and I
don't why he lied to me. When did he stop loving me? Did he
finally decide I'm too dirty to be worth his while? Too used
up, no longer fresh and pretty like Drusilla always would be?
Can he smell too many other demons on me, the smell that I can
never get rid of? Is it the jewellery that forever marks me as
a whore? I don't know when I fell in love with him but he
always made me feel safe. Even now, when I don't want him
around me, I can't help but feel that if he left, I...I don't
know what I would do.

He makes me feel safe but I don't want him near me and that's
scary. I want to be alone but I don't want to be. Everything
has changed so much.

If Spike asks why I'm not talking to him, I'll tell him but only
if he asks.

What hurts me is that he hasn't told me why he didn't come and
get me like he promised.

Part Thirty-Three  

March 8, 2005

10.23 a.m.

Hyperion Hotel


"Everything ready?" asked a grim faced Angel.

"Not a problem, we're ready right now actually" answered Wesley
icily, gesturing at Joyce.

"Sure that the room's secure?"

"For God's sake Angel, do stop harping on about it," snapped
Wesley irritably. Both he and Joyce had worked on securing the
training room for two solid days after Joyce's first meeting
with Randall. They had strengthened the wards that prevented
anyone bar Joyce and Wesley performing magic in the room. In
addition to that, Wesley had implemented a spell that would make
the room untraceable to any magic user, Joyce and himself not
included. Even though the two magic users had done all they
could to make the room secure, there was still the possibility
that someone could tear down the wards and spells encircling the
room provided the witch or warlock was strong enough.

It was a possibility that continued to play on everyone's
nerves, Angel's most of all. The vampire was paranoid that
either Randall or Lindsey would slip through their fingers
again.

The gag that had been forced between Lindsay's teeth prevented
him from screaming at Angel to just get it over with. He had
waited long enough. Once the car had stopped, both he and
Randall had been hauled none too gently through the Hyperion's
front doors. There had been people standing around the huge
lobby. Lindsey had recognised each and every one of them. Of
course he had, he had fucked them all over once, if not twice.
Angel had led him through the middle of everyone, Lindsey
feeling the ice-cold finger of fear tracing along his spine.

He had done a double take when he fully took in just who was
included in the group of people. The half demon that Tomas was
having such trouble finding and Miss Chase who should still have
been trapped in a winter wonderland on the other side of the
earth. He had known that Doyle was back at the Hyperion but
seeing him again in the flesh was another matter entirely. As
Angel had dragged him passed the eerily quiet gathering,
Cordelia had started to screech about how angry she was and how
Lindsey was going to get what was coming to him, the whole room
erupting into similar threats and promises. With an ear
splitting snarl, she had told her blind fiancee just where to
aim his fist. The resulting black eye that Lindsey had copped
was still throbbing with a vengeance.

Both he and a still unconscious Randall had been taken up to the
top floor and into a cool, sterile room. There, they had been
tied to the chairs that were waiting for them and left with only
the presence of Riley. The smaller soldier, Graham, had taken
over for his friend sometime during the early morning. All
night, Lindsey had gone over the numerous possible fates that
were in store for him, each one worse than the previous. Now,
after being left in the chilly room for hours on end, Lindsey
desperately wanted to go to the bathroom. Just a small thing he
wanted to experience once again before he left the mortal world.

Snapping back to the present, Lindsey gulped nervously as Angel,
Wesley and Joyce started to walk towards him. As the trio
approached, Lindsey tried to slow down his breathing in an
attempt to appear calm and unaffected. A futile attempt as he
saw Angel smirk at him. With a muffled curse, Lindsey realised
that no matter how he might appear outwardly, the vampire would
have no problem detecting just how scared he truly was.

"You know Wes, I think Mr McDonald is feeling a little nervous
about the 'talk' we're about to have with him"

"But Angel, it's just a friendly little chat. Nothing to be
petrified over. I mean, really, what does he think we're going
to do? Beat him? Torture him? Scoop his eyes out?"

"Stop it you two. Angel, Wesley, let's just get on with it. I
don't want to anywhere near him if it's possible," whispered
Joyce, her eyes misting over as she looked down at man in front
of her. This was the man who was responsible for her daughter's
untimely death. She had known that Buffy would have a shorter
than normal lifespan and that was cruel, but to have it taken
with such violence was unforgivable. She wanted to be gone from
the room as soon as possible. It wasn't that she didn't want to
see Angel and Wesley 'question' Lindsey, it was that she was
unsure of what she would do to the lawyer if she remained in the
room for much longer.

"Mr McDonald, Lindsey. Lindsey, I can call you that can't I?
Oh good. I just have to tell you something," said Joyce, her
tears breaking free. She unconsciously wiped the tears from her
cheeks as she continued. "I hate you. I hate your firm, I hate
what you stand for but most of all...I hate *you*. You are the
one that murdered my daughter. The men who terrorised us in The
Magic Box may have done the actual work but *you* are the one
who pulled the trigger, and even though I'm supposed to be the
forgiving type... you won't ever get my forgiveness. I can't.
I hate you and I *know* that you will suffer for all that you
have done"

"Joyce?"

"Don't, Angel. Just, just don't. I want this over and done
with now"

Wide eyed, Lindsey felt his heart rate accelerate as he watched
Joyce and Wesley start chanting, all the while they traced
patterns in the air in front of them. He didn't want to watch.
Lindsey knew that this was the beginning of the end for him and
he was pretty sure that he wouldn't be leaving the room alive.
He didn't want to watch the two magic users but he couldn't help
his morbid fascination, the dance of their fingers was really
quite beautiful in an odd way. The thing which captured his
attention was the way Joyce was speaking with the same voice of
the Englishman whom he had only met the previous evening.

As the full implications hit him, Lindsey couldn't help but
snigger through his gag. It was just too funny. As he listened
to Wesley's strangled mutterings, Lindsey wondered at the
workings of the PTB. They were slippery, no doubt about it. If
there was a way to do something, they did it or got someone to
do it for them and if there wasn't, then they invented one. An
unexpected moan from Randall drew his attention away from the
magic casters. Turning his head to the man beside him, Lindsay
noted the dried blood decorating Randall's head and shirt.

No one had even bothered to clean Randall up or even check if he
was all right after being smacked across the head by... well, it
looked like Joyce actually. As Randall continued to whimper and
moan as he came to, Lindsey emitted his own groan as he realised
that Joyce and Wesley had finished their spell casting for the
time being. With batedbreath, the nervous man waited for
something to happen. Was he going to burst into flames? Was he
going to be transported to another reality?

Joyce shook her hands, trying to warm them up a little as she
contemplated giving the lawyer another black eye to match the
one Doyle had already given him.

"Joyce, can you go and get the others? Thanks" asked Angel as
he cracked his knuckles, the joints popping loudly. It was such
a tacky thing to do but Angel felt a grim satisfaction of seeing
Lindsey flinch at the sound.

With a curt nod, Joyce strode out of the chilly room and down
the corridor towards Xander's room. Joyce wanted to ensure that
he hadn't accidentally caught sight of Randall as both the
lawyer and brothel owner had been taken to the fourth floor
training room. As she got closer to the last room to her left,
she heard low guttural noises coming from within the room.

Steeling herself and taking a deep breath, Joyce stepped slowly
into the room and felt her tears well up again as she took in
the scene before her. Not saying a word, she watched as Spike
sat upon the bed behind Xander, the vampire holding a thrashing
and grunting Xander as gently but firmly as possible.

"Is he... asleep?" Joyce asked softly when Spike took a moment
to acknowledge her presence. Unable to help herself, she
sniffled a little as Spike smoothed his hand over Xander's
unruly hair, his fingers twisting the dark locks gently as
Xander's jerking slowed down.

"Yeah. Out like a light. Boy won't be awake for while,"
whispered Spike just as softly only to grunt in surprise as one
of Xander's elbows caught him in the side. He hesitated for a
few moments before releasing his hold on the sleeping boy's
wrists. As he let go, Xander rolled onto his side, curling into
a tight ball, the harsh grunting becoming softer until Xander's
breathing indicated that he was once again in the grips of a
deep sleep.

Spike missed the warmth of Xander's body against his chest
almost immediately and wondered just how many times he would
have to place himself in between Xander and the wall in the
months to come. Sighing, he checked that his charge was truly
asleep before gently moving off the soft bed. Clothes pulled
straight again, Spike made his way over to Joyce.

"Is he always like that? So... troubled?"

"The grunting's new, he's never done that before. What's
happening with those fucking cunts you got stashed in the
practice room?" snarled Spike, his gameface flickering swiftly
across his features as he felt months of resentment and anger
reach new heights. To have both the lawyer and the pimp under
the same roof as him and not being allowed to join in on the
questioning was something that he was feeling more and more
bitter about as each minute went by.

Spike acknowledged that the reason for not being seen by either
men was a good one and one that he heartily agreed with. No one
was going to give either Randall or Lindsay the slightest hint
that Spike was in the same hotel as them. If by some remote
chance that one of them managed to escape; then it would be
disaster all round if Wolfram and Hart both knew who and where
the soulless one was.

The reasoning did nothing to change the fact that Spike wanted
to be present in the room, wanted to goad his Sire and each of
the other men into physically attacking the two captives.
Getting them to do what he was unable to. A soft touch on his
shoulder and he turned his attention back to the woman standing
beside him.

"On second thoughts, don't bloody well tell me. If I'm not
*allowed* to join in on the fun then I don't want to fucking
know about it," snarled Spike, his hands clenching in rage.
With all nerves tingling from the unfairness of it all, the
blond wondered just how much his Sire would complain if Spike
punched a hole in the wall opposite him. Spike could feel his
canines start to elongate at the thought of destroying
something. Running his tongue over the sharp tip of one of his
fangs, he made the decision to venture down to the gym while
Xander was still asleep. Maybe he could take his frustrations
out on a helpless rowing machine, shape it into some modern art.


A low rumble sounded through the hotel hallway, startling both
Spike and Joyce. With a glance at Joyce, the blond mock-growled
at the smiling woman even as he patted at his noisy stomach.

"Had breakfast?"

"Nah. Went down to get some before the Whelp fell asleep again
but that prick Leo has smashed the microwave. Didn't fancy a
cold brekkie. The cow's gone to buy a new one"

"I honestly don't know what we are going to do with him? Is it
me or is he getting worse with each day that goes by?"

"Who the fuck gives a shit? Not our bloody problem. Ship him to
the closest loony bin for all I care" retorted Spike, his sneer
growing into a wide smile as Joyce sighed at his attitude.

"What on earth am I going to do with *you*?" said Joyce with a
laugh. Her spirits lifting a little at the vampire's trademark
acidity, she gave one last sniffle before she steered Spike from
the bedroom doorway and towards the stairs.

======================================================

12.01 p.m.

"We need a bigger car...maybe one of those mini-vans?" stated
Cordelia to her fiance. Sitting on top of her old desk, she
watched as Doyle entertained a giggling Aiesha. She smiled
softly as the toddler squealed with delight, Aiesha clutching at
Doyle's much larger hands as he pretended to grab at her nose,
the Irishman only missing the mark every now and again.

"Hello? Hey...Mr 'I've got your nose'...are you listening to
me?"

"Of course Princess"

"Yeah...then what did I just say? Hmmmm?"

"Ahhhhh.... you were saying something about changing this one's
diaper. Thanks beautiful, you're just too good to me"

"Well that's for sure and I was saying we need a bigger
car...actually a mini-van. Maybe Angel can trade in his car for
a good deal on a new one?" huffed the woman as she hefted the
heavy toddler off Doyle's lap and into her arms. With a sniff
at the girl's bottom, she knew without a doubt that it was time
for a new diaper.

"Oh yeah...can just see it now. Angel and Co. to the rescue in
the trusty kiddie taming mini-van. It's gonna do wonders for
his reputation, the evil will be dying of laughter," snickered
Doyle, listening as Cordelia rummaged around in the bottom of
the ever present baby bag. A soft poofing sound reached his
ears only seconds before he smelt the baby powder scent the
office side of the hotel lobby.

"We could always get him one of those 'Baby on board' stickers
for it. Hang on, evil will still be laughing won't it?" said
Cordelia, laughing along with Doyle. Plastic tabs on each side
of the new diaper fastened firmly, she pulled up Aiesha's
leggings and handed the clean toddler back to Doyle.

"Not likely, evil will be staking itself rather than suffer the
embarrassment of being offed by a vampire who has 'Sesame
Street's Greatest Hits' blaring from his ride's stereo"

"God, I can't believe that show is *still* going. You know,
they've actually given the Count a girlfriend now?"

"Cordy...I was jokin'. No such thing as the 'Street's Greatest
Hits'."

"Well duh! Would be good for when our own are old enough to
listen to it though," said Cordelia, a large grin plastered
across her face as she teased him. After waiting for Doyle to
pick up on the words, she realised that her attempt at being
subtle was taking a serious nosedive. Stupid idea really, she
had never been subtle so it wasn't as if she should continue
trying something that obviously wasn't working. Taking a deep
breath, Cordelia forged ahead, "I'm pregnant."

Her words freezing him in shock, Doyle sat with a squirming
Aiesha on his lap. At the little girl's howl of protest, he
quickly lowered her to the floor before leaning back heavily in
his chair. Turning his face towards where he had last heard
Cordelia's voice, he tried to think of something to say but all
he could think was that he was going to be a father. Not a
favoured Uncle or someone who had gotten the job of raising
twins by default, but a Daddy to a child all of his own. A slow
smile trekked across his face as let the news sink in.

"Cordy... Princess. I, I... Holy Shit... I'm gonna be a Da!"

"Got that right Mister. I'm late by almost a month now and I'm
*never* late. Like clockwork," agreed Cordelia, happily nodding
her head.

"It's not stress is it? I heard that too much stress can make a
woman a bit... you know, funny? Face it; you got stress. We
all got stress at the moment, what with those two up on the top
floor," said Doyle, suddenly anxious about how he would cope
with an infant in his life. The smile on his face dropped away
only to be replaced by a look of sadness as he thought of how he
would never be able to see if his child had inherited his green
eyes or Cordelia's Hollywood style smile. In twenty years time,
would he even remember what the colour green looked like? With
that thought, he couldn't help but reach a hand up to touch
hesitantly at the thick scarring that marred his face.

"What? No way are you dragging *those two* pricks into this
conversation. I refuse to think about them until Angel and the
others are done with them, and I'm telling you right now that
with all the home tests I bought, I'm probably the major
shareholder in the company," Cordelia snapped, her own smile
disappearing as she felt her heart wrench at the sad look upon
her fiancee's face. A flicker of anger flared up in her as she
watched Doyle's fingers lightly trace over the scarred areas of
where his eyes used to be.

She knew that it was going to take a lot longer for the scarred
Irishman to be comfortable with how he looked to his friends,
let alone outsiders. A grimace settled upon Cordelia's face as
she remembered how upsetting it had been to watch as Doyle had
flinched whenever Aiesha and Gonturan had managed to touch his
face when they played with him.

True, he didn't do it much now but the fact remained that he
would start to jerk away before forcing himself to relax when
she touched his face. It was something that they hadn't yet
talked about. Breaking the silence that had settled over the
lobby office, Cordelia ventured to ask a question.

"You're worried about what the baby will think of your face
aren't you?"

"Of course I bloody well am! Look at me? I'm a fucking freak.
I'll give the kid nightmares not to bloody well mention all the
stirring it's gonna get when I turn up at parent-teacher nights"

"Don't you give me your self pitying crap and if other parents
point fingers at you, they can deal with me and anyway, that
sort of thing is years away. We can deal with all that later.
We don't have to now"

"What the fuck do I have to offer a kid? I sit behind a bloody
desk every day, answering phones? In between doing that and
typing out useless bits of shit just to relieve the boredom, I
spend the rest of my time rolling on the friggin' floor with a
blinding headache. Yeah, fucking great 'father' material,"
snapped the half-demon, his fears obliterating any joy he was
feeling about becoming a father. Steeling himself mentally, he
waited for what was sure to be a vicious backlash from the
younger woman, only to be surprised when there was none
forthcoming. After what seemed like a lengthy silence, Doyle
couldn't keep quiet much longer.

"Cordy?"

"Are the twins scared of your face? Is Christopher? Are any of
us? What you look like won't matter to our child. I'm not going
to let you throw in the towel over something like that, you
haven't yet so you sure as hell aren't going to use *that* as an
excuse to do it"

"I'm not giving up... throwing in the fucking towel or doin'
whatever. Cordy, this is so not the right time for a baby or
for you to be pregnant. If, if something happens... I *can't*
protect you... help you?"

"Yeah, 'if'. That's an appropriate word, 'if'" snorted Cordelia
as she tried not to let Doyle's concerns start to worry her.
Slowly, she walked over towards the desk that he was still
sitting at. Cordelia pushed numerous bills out of her way before
sitting down on top of it.

"Fuck! I couldn't even help you before. Even with me eyes, you
know?" said Doyle, his words tapering off to a whisper as he let
Cordelia remove his hands from his face. With a sigh, he joined
his fingers with her slightly longer ones and felt his fears
lessen as he took comfort in Cordelia's close presence.

"No one could have helped before. *God.* I know it... Joyce
knows it. Everyone including you knows it. It happened and
there's nothing we can do about that apart from beating the crap
out of the guys who did it when we find them."

"I know. I know," he murmured as Cordelia slid from the desk
top onto his lap. Shifting in his seat so that they were both
comfortable, Doyle asked where Aiesha was, his solemn statement
lifting into a soft smile when he was told that the toddler had
ventured towards the kitchen and Spike.

"What's a bet her every second word will start with 'F' in
another five minutes?"

"Pfffft! Not as if she isn't going to learn it from school when
she's older anyway? This way, our girls are going to be the
stars of the school. Setting the trend with each step"

Both Doyle and Cordelia felt the tension between them drift away
with their laughter over Spike's influence when it came to the
twins. As they felt themselves relax into each other, a
comfortable silence drifted down upon the lobby office, the two
of them making the most of a few quiet minutes together. The
time drifted by slowly, only interrupted now and again by
muffled shrieks of laughter coming from the direction of the
kitchen. With each laugh, the engaged couple couldn't help but
giggle a little themselves, both wondering just how Spike was
entertaining the toddler.

"Hey Princess, we better get the kid back before Spike
encourages her to seek out the dark side."

"Yeah right and let's look at how well a career in evil has
worked out for that bleached idiot shall we? Please, he's more
harmless than a geriatric hamster"

"Remember what happened the last time Ginny was left alone with
him for more tha... Ahhhhhh... Jesus!"

Clutching both hands tightly to the sides of his head, Doyle
barely registered the fact that Cordelia had leapt from his lap
and was now awkwardly rubbing his shoulders. His face scrunched
into a tight grimace as wave after wave of agony flowed around
his mind; Doyle tried to makes sense of what his latest vision
was showing him.

"White walls.... Ugh... Bed, one bed... Someone in the
room... Holy fuck this hurts... Ummmmm, nothing but white...
It's so *bright* like all the lights are on... Ooooohhh...
It's a guy, never seen him before... What the fuck?"

"What? What do you mean 'what the fuck'?" demanded Cordelia,
rubbing the back of Doyle's neck in attempt to stop the usual
after vision stiffness from taking a secure hold. With long
firm strokes, she ran her fingers up and down his nape, only
just touching on his shoulders.

"This is too fucking weird!"

"God Doyle, just tell me?"

"It's raining. It's raining *in* the desert. Thunder,
lightening and rain, the whole show but nothing is getting wet.
Its like it's not real. It's not right. Cordy?"

"Yeah?"

"The white room. It's raining in there as well but everything
looks bone dry. Everything but that guy, he's soaking wet."

==================================================

Wolfram and Hart

Secure Room 5

Clearance level - Alpha Prime

2.57 p.m.


Soon.

Only days to go.

Everything was prepared and the only thing left to do was to
wait until the locating spell had finalised a destination point
for the numerous souls that had been procured.

They were feeling odd, unusual. There was an emotion flowing
through their bodies, one that had been felt only on a mere
handful of times previously, each of the Original Senior
Partners were at a loss as to how to describe just which emotion
it was they were currently experiencing.

A dull roar echoed through the pitch black chamber as the
'youngest' of them, instead of being able to identify the
emotion, it allowed itself to grow frustrated at its confusion.
As the booming sound echoed around the otherwise empty room, the
'eldest' Original Senior Partner merely sneered and curled one
of its many lips into a gesture of superiority, a gesture that
was unknowingly copied by it's favourite companion.

"Yes, I know. It must be so exciting to see your many years of
waiting finally coming to a close," beamed Holland as he rubbed
his hands together in an effort to hide how they were shaking.
Standing to the one side of the huge room, Wolfram and Hart's
public face wanted nothing more than to seek comfort and
reassurance in the arms of his wife. As much as he appreciated
just how much the Originals had done for both his personal life
and career, nothing would ever make just a single second in
their presence palatable. Gone were the times in which he had
been bedridden for days after just five minutes in their
presence, shaking and delirious from the shock of being exposed
to the Originals' odour. Now, Zachary Holland was well used to
the after effects of a visit to the top floors of Wolfram and
Hart but try as he might, he could never get comfortable being
in their presence.

In all the years he had served them, he had never once seen
them. Smelt them, touched them, tasted them but never seen
them.

That particular gift was reserved for the one who would host the
'Soul of Blood'. Someone whom each hour was a step closer to
being identified.

A solid crash to his left signalled that it was time for Holland
to take a step forward and as he did, Holland wondered just what
he would have to do this time. As the bile rose in the back of
his throat, he reminded himself to start getting Lindsey
McDonald prepared for his first meeting with the Original Senior
Partners. Arms open wide, Holland felt his shoe brush against
something soft on the ground in front of him. His shudder
hidden as best as possible, he felt a flash of compassion for
Lilah Morgan. Too bad she hadn't continued to show the same
promise she had when she had first been hired. Another step
forward, Holland promptly forgot about what was left of the
woman as he opened his mouth and tilted his head back, waiting
for the inevitable.

Its huge head raised from its comfortable position on the wool
carpet, the 'middle aged' Original Partner ran the human's words
through its mind a few more times. Excited. It knew that it
had felt such an emotion before. Was this what it was feeling?
It had been hundreds of years since it had been able to identify
such simple things like a single emotion.

Excitement.

The word rolled off its tongue in an uncomplicated pattern, the
snarl smothering the cries of ecstasy from the lone human. It
liked the word. It would keep the identity of the emotion to
itself, ignoring the glances of the other two Originals as its
scent mellowed from confused to calm.

Not long now.

Just a few more days and then all three would be free from
having to mingle with the 'insects' that had overrun what had
once been such a promising plane of existence.

Part Thirty-Four  

March 8, 2005

6.21 pm

Dock Six, L.A. Piers

"Jesus Christ, how the hell does that man live with himself?"
muttered Riley, glancing behind him one last time as he strode
back towards where he had parked Joyce's car. Door unlocked and
opened, he sat himself in behind of the steering wheel and
leaned over and unlocked the passenger door. As Graham slid into
the car beside him, Riley voiced his question again.

"You heard him Ri. Just business."

"But... humans, demons... Christ, that's disgusting," Riley shot
back at his best friend. For once, Riley was somewhat annoyed at
how calmly Graham was taking what Randall had revealed of his
illegal operations. Even though Graham tended to take
everything calmly, Riley couldn't really understand how the
other man wasn't as angry as everyone else had been at what
Randall had disclosed. Swearing under his breath as Graham
shrugged his shoulders, Riley pulled out his mobile phone and
set about informing Kate of Randall Hargrave's location. Once
done, he started the engine and drove away from the Dock Six and

the numerous shipping containers. All empty but the very last
one.

Driving back into the heart of L.A., Graham wondered how Angel
and Wesley were going with questioning the lawyer from Wolfram
and Hart. He was quite interested in finding out what the firm
was up to this time and just what the consequences would be if
they weren't stopped. Head twisted to one side, Graham massaged
a tense nerve in the hope of receiving a little relief. Although
he knew he wasn't showing it, Graham was relieved that Randall
was out of the hotel at last. What the older man had eventually
revealed about his business dealings had been horrifying. Not
just how he had trained Xander and the rest of the kidnapped
boys but how many other non-Hellmouth youths had been used and
eventually murdered in the pursuit of pleasure. When came
down to the crunch, Xander was actually quite lucky to have been
born on the Hellmouth... sort of.

The most worrying revelation had been the names and contact
numbers of the people and demons who ran some of the now known
twenty two slavery rings throughout the United States. To know
that there was one being run specifically in Hollywood, one that

specialised in procuring wannbe actresses and actors for an
overseas human market, was quite a startling thought indeed.

Made sense thought Graham, the one in Hollywood. No-one was
going to bother reporting another up and coming starlet who had
suddenly skipped out without paying the rent. With that
thought in mind, he wondered out of the numerous missing persons
reported each year, how many were actually still alive and
living out a life of slavery. He honestly hoped that the ones
who had been sold to demons had been lucky and found themselves
with an owner like W'nth. Shuddering slightly, Graham suddenly
found himself trying not to drop the ringing cell phone that had
been thrust at him. Depressing the 'talk' button, he was about
to speak only to be cut off by Cordelia's loud demands.

"Uh-huh, ri-"

"Yep, but th-"

"Right, how is..."

"Mmmm."

Taking his eyes off the road for just a moment, Riley looked
towards his best friend as Graham struggled to talk over whoever
was on the other end of the line. As Graham finished the call,
Riley asked who it was.

"Cordelia. Forget about the groceries, we gotta go back now."

"Why?"

"Shit's hit the fan," said a stern faced Graham, giving Riley a
serious glance as he handed the phone back.

"Crap!"

"Yeah Ri, pretty much."

"Well, tell me?" asked an impatient Riley as he felt chills go
down his spine. "Just what the hell else could go wrong?" he
thought. As he clicked on the indicator to turn left, Riley
gave a shudder as he felt someone walk over his grave.

"Didn't say much, we just got the orders to get back?"

"What's Cordelia doing manning the phones? Where's Doyle?"
Riley enquired. Since Doyle had taken over the office from
Joyce, the half-demon was the one to tell everyone what was
happening and where. As odd as it was, whenever anyone had to
call someone who was away from the Hyperion, Doyle was always
the one to make the official call. To have someone else call
the mobile phone apart from Doyle, or even Angel, made Riley
feel a little on edge.

"Uhhh... Doyle's part of the problem. Been having a vision
since the moment we left apparently. Still having it but he's
seeing something to do with a military base"

"Shit! That was over an hour ago!" exclaimed Riley, appalled
that Doyle had been suffering the intense vision pain for so
long. Foot planted hard against the accelerator, he refused to
acknowledge that he was well on the way to earning Joyce a
speeding ticket in his effort to get back quickly.

======================================================

Tomas' Inner Workrooms

6.35 pm

Yawning, Tomas rubbed at his eyes as he continued to attempt to
work out what was happening with the location spell for 'Soul of
Blood' host. It had been while now since he had cast the spell
and according to Holland, the Original Senior Partners were
starting to get a bit testy at how long the spell was taking.

Can't blame them really, thought Tomas, squinting into the bowl
of blood once again. Not only was he feeling rather homesick,
he was also missing his brother. Where Ethan was, was a question
that constantly nagged at him. Even though his brother was a
complete rogue, Ethan had always give Tomas a weekly phone call,

no matter where he had been in the world. When Tomas hadn't
heard from Ethan for three weeks running, he decided to try a
location spell in an attempt to determine what type of trouble
Ethan had landed in. Again.

No matter how many times Tomas had tried the location spell for
Ethan, nothing ever came to fruition. After the spell had
failed a few times, he had tried another tack. This time he had
contacted the spirit world in an effort to find out if his
brother was dead. When his spirit guide had told him that Ethan
was still alive, Tomas had been greatly relieved.

After two months of Ethan's unexplained absence, Tomas had been
forced to look through his brothers personal belongings and
thanks to a 'black hole' created in Ethan's private mail box, he
had gotten a stepping stone to his first lead as to his brothers
whereabouts. Mostly it had been just junk mail advertising and
discount coupons for Ethan's favourite store, the only other
mail had been from a law firm in America, each one identical.
Politely handwritten requests for a meeting to be set up between
Ethan and a Mr Gerald Winter and Ms. Caroline Finzern.

It hadn't been until Tomas had collected eight of the letters
that he had decided to try and find out if Wolfram and Hart knew
anything about where his brother might be. After a lengthy
phone call to Ms. Finzern, Tomas had found himself on the next
plane to L.A. and a new job. Wolfram and Hart had promised to
do what it could to find out where his brother might be, the
only information as to where Ethan might have been was a rumour
of a now defunct military operation that had been based in
Sunnydale.

With a sigh, Tomas rubbed once again at his weary eyes as he
watched the silver web dance across the bowl of blood. The image
twisted and contracted continuously as the occasional flare of
colour was flashed across the thin strands that made up the
spider like web. Every now and then, the delicate glimmering
pattern was coloured for an instant by a solid colour, only to
have the colour disappear again underneath a myriad of others.
Tomas looked on as the webbing displayed colours like green,
gold and blue. In an effort to distract himself from the almost
overwhelming boredom, Tomas had found himself playing a guessing
game as to which colour would be displayed next. Red?

Black?

Maroon?

Blue?

Still blue mused Tomas. Blue. Blueblueblueblue...Hang on,
blue?

With a triumphant cry that echoed through the almost
claustrophobic room, Tomas realised that the webbing had finally
settled upon a single colour. At last! The first sign that the
spell was narrowing down the possible candidates for the 'Soul
of Blood'. As more individual colours were chosen and displayed
in a separate part of the silver webbing, the better the photo
like image of the person or demon would become. As it was, Tomas
still wasn't too sure whether the host would be a human or even
a demon and according to Holland, not even the Original Senior
Partners had an inkling of who it would be.

As gently as he could, Tomas encouraged the solid colour to
crawl over the fine silver threads until it had reached one
corner of the web. His hands shaking, he reached to the one
side of him and carefully took up an empty bowl, placing it a
few inches away from the huge bowl of blood that hosted the
location spell. Ever so slowly, Tomas got to his feet, all the
while trying to ignore the cramps in his legs that were
threatening to force him back onto the floor again.

On stiff legs, Tomas shuffled awkwardly to the little bar fridge
that was sitting in one corner of the tiny room. Fridge door
opened, he got out one of the bags of fresh blood that lay on
the middle shelf. Pausing for moment just to stretch his legs a

little more, Tomas then proceeded back towards the thin yellow
plastic that was spread out upon the floor. With a heavy sigh
and a wince from the ache in his legs, he sat himself back down
on the floor, in front of the two bowls.

Glancing into the enormous bowl, Tomas barely missed knocking
into the side of the three foot wide holding container as he
painfully crossed his legs again. Drawing a sharp breath over
the near accident, he felt his heart skip a beat as he wondered
just what the consequences would be if he was indeed, forced to
start over again. Taking several deep breaths to calm his
nerves, Tomas took up a small pair of scissors from beside the
much smaller bowl and cut a tiny opening in one end of the blood
packet.

Tomas filled the second bowl to just below the brim with blood
before dribbling a thick trail of the liquid down one side of
the bowls clay side and allowing it to form a small puddle at
its base. From there, he continued to pour the blood in a
straight line to the larger bowl. Holding the cool package just
above the silver webbing, Tomas very carefully let a few drops
from the bagged blood fall into the area coloured solely by an
icy blue. Once done, he again dribbled a trail of blood down
one side of the bowl and onto the yellow tarp until both trails
of blood met.

With only a few butterflies in his stomach, the Warlock fought
to concentrate on the delicate task ahead even as his excitement
threatened to overflow. Ever so softly, Tomas whispered the
words that would encourage the solid ice blue colour in the one
corner of the silver webbing to move itself along the trail of
blood and into the new smaller bowl. When that had been
achieved, Tomas would then place the newly hosted colour along
side one wall of the tiny room.

As this was being finished, Tomas turned back to watch as the
silver webbing dulled to a dark grey colour, the myriad of other
colours that had been flickering across it only a few minutes
before, fading into non existence. A weary but satisfied smile
trekked its way across his face just before Tomas found himself
yawning with all his might. At a glance of his watch, he
realised that he had been holed up in the old utility closet for
over eight hours. No wonder he was tired. Tomas was hoping that

it wouldn't take as long each time that the webbing came a step
closer to identifying the host for the 'Soul of Blood'.
Unfortunately, at this slow rate, it was going to take weeks for
the host to be identified let alone found.

Shrugging to himself as he yawned again, Tomas felt himself go
weak at the knees as a wave of blackness descended swiftly upon
his mind, one of his last thoughts was of why he was dreaming of
his still missing brother giving him directions to the Hyperion
Hotel. His body hitting the floor heavily, the unconscious
Warlock missed seeing the location spell's webbing start glowing
a bright silver as an explosion of colour commenced to flicker
over it again.

=======================================

March 8, 2005

Hyperion Hotel

6.45 pm

"What do you mean you don't know what's up at Wolfram and Hart?"
demanded an ever increasingly angry Angel.

"It's true! I *don't* know what the latest issue is at the
firm. Look, I've told you all I know, things that I shouldn't
be telling you anyway. Things that are going to get me killed.
By you. By Wolfram and Hart. By fucking Fate. I don't know
but one way or the other, I'm dead," spat Lindsay as he tried in
vain to convince Angel and his friends that he had no idea of
what was happening on the upper levels of Wolfram and Hart.

"Like I'm caring!" shot back the game-faced vampire. After
staring down the shivering lawyer for a moment more, Angel
grabbed Wesley by the upper arm and led him into the far corner
of the room as W'nth went to stand next to Lindsay, a shotgun
cradled in his hand.

With a glance towards W'nth doing his best to appear
intimidating, Angel proceeded to turn his back on the lawyer and
ask Wesley if the truth spell had in fact worked.

"Ahngul, Um gowing tho punth you onth day," Wesley calmly stated
as he sighed at Angel's question. "Yeth, Um thore thath ith
worktheth." As Wesley watched Angel's game-face melt back into
his human features, the ex-watcher told Angel that the truth
spell lasted for a full twenty four hours once cast and just
because they weren't getting far with the questions asked so
far, it didn't mean that it wasn't working.

Both men jumped as the rooms intercom buzzed, Cordelia's voice
filling the room for all to hear.

"Hey guys, vision's over. Doyle's out of it though so me and
the others are going to try and figure out who this 'rain guy'
is and just where he is, okay?"

Slightly puzzled as to why he had just smelt an increase in the
scent of fear that was surrounding Lindsay, Angel turned so he
could look directly at the lawyer as he answered Cordelia's
question. As he made eye contact with the other man, the
vampire was slightly disturbed to see Lindsey had started to
sweat. With a finger pressing down on the intercom button,
Angel continued to talk to Cordelia even as he gestured at
Wesley to go back over to Lindsay and W'nth.

"That's great Cordelia. Is he all right? I mean, it was a long
one this time. Just buzz me when you figure out
something...anyway, Wes and I won't be long up here," said
Angel, resisting the urge to smirk as he watched Lindsay take a
deep swallow.

"No problem and no, he's not okay. He's out cold. At least the
pain is gone, I hope. Anyway, just Joyce and me at the moment
but I'm gonna get the others to put their thinking caps on. Can
you just like, hurry up with that asshole? Oh, and Wes? With
Joyce helping, that means you're shutting up for now."

With that, Cordelia informed them that they had her permission
to beat Lindsay as much as they liked, although she wasn't about
to clean blood from the carpet. Without responding to her last
comment, Angel stalked back over to Lindsay and the others,
determined to find out all he could before he lost control and
killed the lawyer.

"Alright, what's got you all in a sweat now?" demanded Angel,
full game-face only a few inches away from the shivering man's
own.

"Fuck off! You think you can scare me with that sorry display?
You truly are insane. No wonder all your kids are nutters"
sneered Lindsay in an act of false bravado.

"If you know what's good for you, you'll start providing answers
to questions," replied Angel with a matching sneer.

At the end of his tether, Lindsay roared that he couldn't answer
questions that he didn't know the answers for, not paying any
attention as W'nth took a few steps back from him.

"You want answers? Well, how about asking me fucking questions
that I can answer? Huh? Ever thought about that?"

"Right. Wes, you write them, I'll punch them out of this
bastard," Angel snarled. At Wesley's brief shake of a head,
Angel toned down his snarl into a low growl and finally into a
disappointed grimace as Wes continued to shake his head in a
firm 'no' gesture. With a sigh, Angel continued. "Fine. Okay,
let's see? You organised everything to do with Randall and
Sanity. You organised everything that happened at the Magic
Box, right? And you have no idea of what's going down with the
Senior Partners at Wolfram and Hart? Am I right?"

"Yes, fuck you very much! Jesus. We've been through all this,"
stated Lindsey, his calm façade belying his racing heart. He
knew any minute that Angel was going to ask a question that
would earn him a punch as he responded to it.

"Obviously you're too far down the scale not to know such
things. Not quite as important as you like to think you are
Lindsay. Mmm, not so mouthy now, are you. Magic Box, explain."

"Not much to say. You saw what was planned and how it panned
out. Get rid of the strongest links first. Get what was needed
and make sure that no one could follow. Use whatever means
necessary to get what was required," said Lindsey, a little
smile on his face as he watched Wesley's face flush with anger.
"Above all, don't let the stock get damaged."

"Woo pwick! Thoths boyths aww noth *Stokth* bwudy humanth
beingths" shouted an outraged Wesley, barely able to restrain
himself from lashing out at the smug lawyer.

"I'm sorry. Are you able to speak a little clearer? I'm not
sure I understood that. You seem to be having a little trouble
with your tongue." Having sneered his taunt with all the
courage he could muster, Lindsay wasn't too surprised to
suddenly find himself unable to breathe as Wesley's hard fist
met with his stomach.

"Wes..." warned Angel, taking a crumpled note pad from Wesley's
hand and throwing to the ground. Pressing his face into
Lindsay's coughing and wheezing one, Angel laid it out straight.
"Lindsay, you're not going back to Wolfram and Hart. As much as
I really want to do an old-fashioned fox and hound hunt with
you, I can't risk you getting out of this room. Tell me what I
want to know and it'll be quick."

"Yeah, right. Promises, promises. What are you gonna do?
Swear a Scouts honour?" Lindsay said with a slight wheeze as his
breath returned to him slowly. Looking into Angel's eyes, he
was struck with the realisation that he might as well just sell
everyone out now because there was no way in hell that he was
ever going home again.

"Why did you sell the twins and Cordelia? What happened with
Doyle and where the fuck is Willow?"

"Not sure if the twins would turn out special or not, you know,
their mother being an ex-vengeance demon and all, so I was
ordered to place them out of the way but within easy reach
should we need to get them. Ms Chase was going to a demon
brothel, same as the boys, but stocked with females until the
twins' buyer decided that she liked Cordelia's spunk and bought
her as well. Got more money for her than what the whorehouse
offered. Holland was pleased with that"

"Wes, remind me to thank Holland on Cordelia's behalf would
you?" replied a grim faced Angel as he gestured for Lindsay to
continue.

"Mr. Doyle had his eyes removed for sale to a private client.
Needed to use the eyes in some sort of ritual."

"Name, address and phone number."

"Can't remember, not sure and back at the office... Ahhh.
Owwww!" howled the bound lawyer as Angel ripped a fistful of
hair from his head with one almighty tug. "Holy shit, you
fucker! You are such a goddamn girl. You're the big bad
Angelus. Aren't you supposed to be torturing me wi-unnnngh"

Ignoring the small droplets of blood that decorated his right
fist, Angel found himself smiling with a grim satisfaction at
watching Lindsey trying to recover from an punch to the mouth
that was backed by sheer demon strength. Even though Angel knew

that Lindsay was telling the truth to his previous question
because of the truth spell, he felt justified in punching the
smartass. God, he was just aching to get to work on Lindsay with
a good assortment of blunt and sharp objects. Hell, he was even

thinking of getting Spike in the room for his input once the
questioning was over.

"With this attitude Lindsey, you're on the way to earning
yourself a *really* painful death, like Jonathan's for example.
So, cut the shit and keep talking," snarled Angel, his smile
growing a little larger as Lindsay's heart skipped a beat at the

mention of the Jonathan's gruesome death. At W'nths quiet snort
of derision, Angel realised that he still had a hunk of hair
clenched tightly in one fist. Wes held out a small plastic
container to Angel, silently asking for the hair. As Wes
returned the container to the nearby bookcase, Angel wondered
what Wes would do with the hair.

"Fuck! Kept telling Holland that we should have leaned on Darla
enough so that she would stake you. None of this have sex and
lose his soul bullshit," moaned Lindsay as the pain from his
abused scalp radiated down towards his shoulders, even as his
mouth started to regain some feeling. With a quick swipe of his
tongue around his mouth, he realised that Angel had chipped a
tooth. God only knew if he had swallowed chipped piece or not.
"Should've just set fire to this place but no, no-one gets rid
of Angel until the orders come down from the top. What fucking
bullshit"

"Yeah, yeah Lindsay. We've already heard this. The amnesty on
us is going to be lifted in a few weeks and then it's a free for
all with our heads being the big prize. Come on, Willow; why,
where and how do we get her back?"

"Ms. Rosenberg was a special case, being a witch. Couldn't risk
her causing havoc so Tomas and Holland placed her somewhere
special. Don't ask me where because I don't know. I *can* tell
you that she's not here. Not here on this dimension. I swear
that's all I know about Ms. Rosenberg."

"Are you for real? So, I have to ask Holland and Tomas where
she is really nicely?" asked Angel as he felt yet another
problem grow in size. He had honestly hoped that by questioning
Lindsay, he would know exactly what was going on at Wolfram and
Hart and where to find Willow. Unfortunately, it looked like
Lindsay was too far down the totem pole to be much help although
the news about the amnesty being lifted had certainly come in
handy. At least they could prepare for it in some way.

"Yeah, pretty much. You've seen the results of Tomas'
handiwork; he's a total sweetheart. A real nutter, crazier than
his brother and as for Holland, I wish you luck in even trying
to get into the same building as him."

"Save your wishes for later. Tomas, tell me more about him.
Everything."

"Not much to tell. Not Wolfram and Hart's original choice.
He's apparently a fully-fledged Dark Arts practitioner. Scary
shit and I'm sure you know what sort of stuff they deal with.
They wanted his brother, Ethan Raine, but the older brother got
kidnapped by some now defunct US military thing a few years
back. Got taken out to the desert somewhere. Never seen or
heard of again. Even with the firm's influence, nothings come
of the numerous questions and bribes thrown around. It's
assumed that he's dead so that just left his younger brother.
He came over to work for the firm while continuing to search for
his brother."

Butting in, Angel took up the thread of the conversation. "Yeah,
and I'm assuming that Wolfram and Hart haven't informed Tomas
about his brothers last whereabouts, have they? Let me guess,
they're just stringing him along and getting him to do what
they want while they keep throwing him little hints as to where
his brother may be just so that it keeps him in the country. Am
I right and speaking of his 'handiwork', where is Spike?"

"You're right. The big talk is that Tomas won't be needed for
much longer anyway; he's lost that fucked up Childe of yours.
Can't find him no matter how hard he tries, Tomas is casting
location spells for him everyday but the general opinion is that

Spike is gone for good and let me tell you now, Holland is not
happy with that. He's to be relieved of his duties about the
same time that the ceasefire on you is lifted, providing he's
completed whatever Holland has him doing now. I do know that he
and Holland are working on something big for the Original Senior
Partners. Jesus Angel, I need to pee, now!"

"I'm sure you've pissed on the floor before, so this time will
be just a trip down memory lane and as for that Childe of mine,
that's just another problem that's been solved hopefully. Keep
talking, I'm not interested in providing you with luxuries,"
snapped Angel, choosing to ignore the growing distress that
showed on Lindsay's face and feeling relieved that the firm had
no clue as to where Spike currently was. Hopefully, the bluff
would pay off later on, how though was just another question.
"Come on Lindsay, how do we get to Holland?"

"Asshole! And you can't just *get* to Holland, I'm not sure if
anyone can. No-one knows where he lives, hell, there's rumours
that he lives one of the upper levels of the building itself,"
snarled back Lindsey, desperately trying to hold on to the
stream of urine that was threatening to gush at any moment.

"Really? How interesting and which floor would that be? Times
marching on boy."

"I don't know but the four top floors are only for people with
an Alpha Prime clearance. I've only heard of Tomas, Holland and
the Senior Partners having that clearance. No one knows what's
up there. I mean, its been said that there are three *things*
up there. Huge dragon like creatures that just sit all day and
night but no-one I know has ever seen them and if Holland and
Tomas know what is up there, they aren't telling anyone else."

Sharing a curious look with Wesley, Angel glanced at W'nth for a
moment to see if he had heard of the 'creatures' but at the
other demons slight head shake, he gestured for Lindsay to
continue his story.

"Do these 'creatures' have a name, species, description other
than the shit that you just told us?" asked Angel, leaning
against a solid aluminium bookshelf, his arms crossed firmly
against his chest as he eyed off the shivering lawyer.

With his teeth chattering, Lindsay demanded once again to be
allowed to relieve his protesting bladder only to be ignored by
all others in the chilly room. Adjusting himself slightly so
that he had a better chance of holding onto the urine, Lindsay
tried another demand, this time for one of the thick sweaters
that Wesley was currently wearing. As he was ignored a second
time, Lindsay answered Angel's question.


"Assholes! Nothing. I know absolutely nothing except for what
I've just told you. Look, from the time that I started at
Wolfram and Hart there have been these stories about the
'haunted' upper four floors of the building. You know, the
usual ones. People who go to the top only rarely come back down,
people on the floors directly underneath saying that from time
to time they can hear banging and crashing right above their
heads. Sometimes they say they can hear screaming but we all
just shrug them off as stories being told to scare the shit out
of newcomers to the firm. Anyway, it's just the Senior Partners
and the Original Senior Partners that are up on those floors.
Shit, each one has almost half a floor to himself. But I can
tell you that each Friday afternoon, the floor directly
underneath the Alpha Prime floors is closed early and Tomas is
the only one allowed up there until the building closes for the
night."

"And? Well, keep going. I'm sure that you have a *lot* more to
tell us Lindsay."

"What the hell do you want to know now? Look, I'm sure that I
can tell you more after I've taken a leak. Come on. Please,
for Christ's sake Angel, I'm gonna burst right now!" pleaded
Lindsay, his stomach cramping from a combination of the cold,
Wesley's punch and the effort of trying not to piss on the
floor. Never in a million years had he ever thought that he
would one day be begging his most hated enemy to use a bathroom
but that was what he was doing and he hated himself for having
to do it.

"Senior Partners and Original Senior Partners. Tell me."

"Angel, fine, whatever, you're the one that cleans it up I
suppose. Senior Partners are Lockerby, Southam and Fitzgerald.
They always travel together; you can never find one without the
others. How to find them? Ask Holland if you can get close to
him. No one knows how to contact them. We just get told to beep
them if they are needed or leave a message with their
secretaries. The Senior Partners really only look after the
legal side of the firm, you know, the *legal* business," said
Lindsay with a deep sigh as his legs started to go numb from the
long hours of just sitting on a hard chair in a cold room.
Thankfully, with his legs numb, that meant that he was no longer
feeling the dull ache in his knees, hopefully his arms would be
next, his aching shoulders were getting hard to cope with. With
that thought, Lindsay tried to rotate his stiff shoulders a
little but that action just proved that the ropes binding his
arms behind his back had been tied too securely to allow much
movement.

"Gee, what a suprise Wes, fancy Wolfram and Hart actually having
a legit side to it? Right, Original Senior Partners, what or
who are they, and where does Holland fit into all this?"

"I have no idea of who they are, like the Senior Partners, the
Originals are always spoken of as a collective. There are three
of them as well. I haven't met with them myself but Holland and
Tomas talk with them on a weekly basis. Us 'little people'
don't get to meet with the big bosses until we've reached Junior
Partner status. You know, that's where your friends' heads are
going to come in handy. Anyone who brings back a head gets
automatically promoted to Junior Partner," snickered Lindsay, a
little aghast at how he was tempting Angel to punch him again.
At both Angel's and Wesley's growls of anger, the lawyer
hurriedly continued.

"Okay, okay. Holland. Well, he's a bit different. He's the
man that knows everything and I mean *everything* that goes on
in the building and your own personal life. He could tell me
what colour jocks I had on for the whole of last March. You
think about him and just when you're drawing a breath, he's
there, right at your side. It's fucking scary shit at times.
Hell, I don't even know *what* he does at the firm but the
Senior Partners always run things through him if they are unsure
about something. Don't ask me where his office is, I don't
know. If he ever needs to talk to you, he just comes to see
you. Like the Senior Partners, if you need to talk to him, you
just beep him or leave a message with his secretary on the floor
underneath the Alpha Prime floors."

"Christ Lindsay, you don't know much do you? Just what the fuck
do you *know*? Hmmm, how about you continue to enlighten us?"
snapped Angel, the frustration of getting nowhere with the
questioning starting to get to him. Just as he shifted himself
from his increasingly uncomfortable position against the hard
bookcase, Angel was startled to hear an alarm ring through the
room.

MMMMMMEEEEP...MMMMMMEEEEP...MMMMMMEEEEP...

"Wes, tell me that's not what I think it is?"

"What the hell is that? Shit, if that's a fire alarm, untie me
now!"

With an order for an equally startled W'nth to keep an eye on
Lindsay, Angel and Wesley quickly ran over to the intercom on
the other side of the large room. As the alarm continued to
sound through the room, Angel's heart sank as Wesley informed
him that the alarm only sounded when someone was using magic
with the intent on getting past the numerous wards that both he
and Joyce had placed on the Hyperion.

MMMMMMMMEEEEEP...MMMMMMEEEEEP...MMMMMMMEEEEP...

"Jesus Wes, just when will that thing shut off?" Angel asked, as
both he and Wesley covered their ears from the piercing alarm.

"Onwy whunth thuy sthopth tethting thu wardth" replied an
exasperated Wesley. When he had read about the spell, there had
been no mention of just how loud it actually was. With grimace,
he looked towards W'nth and took in how the furred demon had
both of his usually upright ears flattened close to its
skull in an obvious sign of annoyance at the continuing sound.
A mouthed apology later, Wes found himself trying to reassure
Angel that the wards were strong and that it would take someone
hours to tear them down if it ever came down to that.

MMMMMMMMEEEEEP...MMMMMMMEEEEEP...MMMMMMMMMEEEEP...

"Can you and Joyce try and find out who is testing the wards? I
really hope its not Tomas, as much as I want to rip his limbs
off for what he did to Spike, I just don't want to deal with him
at the moment...actually, not at all if it can be helped"

Nodding at what Angel had asked, Wesley gave Angel a reassuring
pat on his lower arm, letting his much warmer hand linger on the
black clad limb for a few moments before leaving Angel and W'nth
to keep guard over Lindsay until Graham and Riley could take
over for them.

TBC