just fic
Title: LA’s Angels
Author: Gabs
Date: 9-03-2005
Email: Gabriella's Email
Rating: R for language, violence and sexual situations
Category: AU
Content: C/A, B/X, F/O, F/X, C/R, C/B/F friendship, K/W – I’m gonna play around with pairings.
Summary: LA’s newest breed of knockout - an elite supernatural-crime fighting syndicate consisting of three smart, strong and beautiful women.
Spoilers: None.
Disclaimer: The characters in the Angelverse were created by Joss Whedon & David Greenwalt. No infringement is intended, no profit is made.
Distribution: Just Fic. Anyone else, just ask.
Thanks: To the Fantastic Four - PushyDame (whose name should be on this story along with mine!), psychofilly, Daisy and DamnSkippy - for all their help as betas and their wonderful ideas. Sometimes I really wonder what I'd do without them...
A/N: Thanks to PushyDame for the gorgeous fic pic!


Part 1

She was in the seventh circle of hell.

Literally.

Cordelia Chase gritted her teeth as the man seated at the other end of the table raised his finger at the waiter for the umpteenth time, signalling him over. That meant he was planning on opening his mouth and allowing actual words to come out, and unfortunately for Cordelia, the stick that was stuck up her blind date’s ass seemed to be affecting his speech as well as everything else.

“I asked for bottled water.” He said in that horrible nasal drawl he called a voice. Cordy winced.

Grin and bear it Chase, you’ve faced far greater evils than this.

“Honestly,” he turned to Cordelia, rolling his eyes, “you can’t get the service these days.”

I am going to KILL Buffy.

She smiled, a little too wide. “Hmm…”

“So…” He grinned at her, teeth sharp like a shark. “What was I saying? Oh yes – I’d love for you to join me golfing this weekend.” His eyes twinkled. “I own a cabin quite close to the course.”

Her stomach turned. Honestly? She’d rather pick up her fork and jam it into her eye. “Uh…”

The sharp bleeping of her beeper interrupted her and Cordelia had to suppress a sigh of relief. She glanced at it for good measure, then removed the napkin from her lap and placed it on the table, getting out of her seat.

“I have to go.” She said, smiling apologetically. “I’m sorry.”

“But - ”

“It’s an emergency.” Cordelia came around the table, quickly kissing his cheek. She couldn’t quite hide the shudder. “It was nice to meet you, Cliff.”

Cliff blinked, mouth gaping open like a fish. “Uh…”

“Thanks for lunch!” Cordy said over her shoulder, hurrying away from the table. Quickly, she made her way through the restaurant and out of the main doors. She pulled out her sunglasses and slid them over her eyes, a small smile sliding onto her face as she stepped off the curb and into the street.

“Thank you, Wesley.”

---

Buffy Summers curled her legs up underneath her, sliding down into the sofa and wrapping the fluffy comforter around her. The warm afternoon sun shone through the large glass windows and she yawned, slowly sipping her glass of wine.

It was wonderful to have some time to herself, just some time alone with her thoughts, to relax if need be, drink some wine, catch up on her reading…

Buffy sighed. Who was she kidding? She desperately longed for someone special to share her time with, for those feelings of giddiness and overwhelming passion that she’d never really experienced with anyone before. But it seemed as though every time she met a man, the relationship was either short – lived, or he was better suited for someone else.

She frowned. If only Mr Right would just miraculously and conveniently show up…

She reached out for the book that Xander had loaned her, grabbing it from atop the table beside her and wiggling until she was entirely comfortable. She leaned her head back and slowly opened the book, balancing it between her forefinger and her thumb.

She didn’t even make it past the first line.

“BEEP!”

Buffy jumped, dropping the book, her hand flying to her chest.

“Oh, crap…”

She scrambled out from under the comforter and got off the couch, searching madly for her beeper. Rather than getting louder, the noise was getting further away. She was clearly going in the wrong direction.

She turned swiftly, walking over to the other side of the room and shuffling through the maze of magazines thrown haphazardly across her dining table. Finally, she found it, hidden underneath the pile.

Buffy looked at the beeper, then down at her sweats, then back at the beeper. A look of pure irritation crossed her face.

“Dammit.”

---

“GOD.” Faith choked out as the man beneath her bucked, his tongue leaving a liquid trail of fire down her throat. “Oh, Dan…”

“It’s Jason.” He corrected, not really sounding like he cared.

“Jason then.” Faith said, rocking her hips back and forth against his. “Oh, Jason…”

She wrapped her arms around his neck, throwing her head back as he slid his hands between her shoulder blades, down her back and settled them on her waist. His lips pressed against her breast, drawing a sigh from her.

Faith slid her hands through his hair, pulling his face away from her chest. She kissed him hard, all but devouring him as her hands slid to the base of his shirt, lifting it up and away from his body. Jason raised his arms willingly, allowing her to slide the garment off.

She raked her nails down his chest and he bucked again, sending a dizzying wave of pleasure through her. “Oh, baby…”

“Faith,” he said lowly, grabbing her hips like a lifeline. “I…want…to…fuck…you…”

Faith moaned, rolling her hips over his. She gasped as he pinched her nipple through the thin material of her shirt. “The feeling’s mutual.”

Jason peeled the shirt away from her body, tossing it to the side. He bit down lightly on her left breast, sliding his tongue over the edge of the lace. Faith slipped her hands over his shoulders, fingers trailing lightly over the strong muscles of his arms, lower, lower, lower until –

Jason hissed as she cupped him. “Fuck.”

A sense of urgency filled her and her movements became faster. Faith squeezed him through the boxers, enjoying the way his eyes widened and his lips parted, releasing a groan. His hands dug into the soft skin of her bottom, pulling her closer into the v of his thighs.

A shrill noise interrupted them, nearly making her lose her balance and fall off the bed. Faith glanced in the direction of the noise, hurling a pillow at her bag but the noise wouldn’t stop. Blinking furiously, she tried to clear the haze caused by passionate frenzy and think straight.

And it hit her.

“Shit!” Quick as a cat she rolled of Jason, picking up her discarded shirt and trousers and sliding them on. Ignoring his protests she flipped open her bag, searching for her beeper. When she found it she sighed, slinging the bag over her shoulder and throwing it back inside.

“Sorry babe.” Faith said casually, trying hard to ignore the ache between her legs. “Gotta run.”

“Wh…what?” Jason’s jaw dropped in shock and he seemed to be struggling to form a sentence. Given his aroused state, Faith wasn’t surprised. “Now? Where?”

She only raised a finger to her lips in a sign of secrecy, smiling winningly as she walked out. “Duty calls.”

The door slammed shut behind her.

---

It was a whole twenty-five minutes after Cordelia’s arrival (twenty minutes after Buffy’s) that Faith decided to show up. Both girls glared at her as she walked through the door, a sheepish grin on her face.

“Oh good.” Cordy drawled sarcastically. “You came.”

“No, I didn’t actually.” Faith said matter-of-factly, looking a little annoyed. She held up her beeper. “I was kindof interrupted.”

It took her a second but Cordelia caught on. She wrinkled her nose in disgust. “A little too much information, Faith…”

Faith only grinned, collapsing on the sofa next to Buffy. “So? Who we killin’?”

“Mohiko demon.” Wesley Windham – Price, their watcher, mentor and, in theory, boss, appeared in the inner doorway of the room, carrying a large book. He barely looked up at them as he walked forward, sliding his glasses further up his nose. “Someone discovered it this morning, eating the remains of what I’m presuming was its first kill, and reported it to the police and Kate – uh, detective Lockley, who in turn, called me.”

Faith frowned. “No word from the PTB?”

Wesley shook his head.

“So this Mojito demon - ” Buffy started.

“Mohiko.” Wesley corrected.

“Whatever. If this is its first kill, does that mean…is it a baby?”

Wesley paused, then shrugged. “Perhaps. It may have jumped dimensions. In which case this is its first kill in Los Angeles anyway.”

Cordy stood, crossing the room. “Let’s make it its last.” She stopped adjacent to the largest wall of the room, fingers travelling rapidly over the books on the shelf. She reached for one, pulling it towards her.

Immediately the wall split open, coming slightly forward and then parting in the centre like the red sea. The two walls shifted as far apart to each side of the room as possible, then ceased movement.

The wall hidden behind them was revealed. Upon it hung a large, rectangular screen, beneath which were several weapons of various kinds – stakes, crossbows, swords, guns, knives, axes…

Cordelia grabbed a sword, sliding it neatly inside her coat. She flipped her chestnut, shoulder – length hair out of her eyes and raised an eyebrow at Wesley.

“How do we kill it?”

---

“I told you, you can kill anything by chopping its head off.” Faith blew the hair out of her eyes and stopped the car, turning in her seat to face Buffy. “Pay up.”

Buffy grimaced, pulling a ten-dollar note from her wallet and handing it over. She peered out from behind the windshield. “This it?”

“Yep.”

Buffy got out of the back seat, immediately heading for the trunk. She opened it, drawing out their weapons. She flipped Cordelia her sword and passed Faith her knives. She helped herself to an axe, slamming the trunk shut.

The trio walked towards the abandoned building site, weapons in hand. The sun was beginning to set over Los Angeles and a slight chill crept into the air. They walked in comfortable silence, until –

“I cannot believe you set me up with that slime-bag.” Cordelia shot a glare at Buffy, increasing her pace.

“You didn’t like him?” Buffy sounded genuinely disappointed. “But he seemed so nice.”

“Yeah, nice and BORING.” Cordelia retorted.

Buffy frowned. “Damn. I figured I’d at least have better luck with someone else’s love life if not my own.”

Faith sniggered. “So clearly B’s not one to trust with the matchmaking.”

Cordelia shook her head in agreement, even as Buffy yelped indignantly.

“Hey!”

Within moments, they stood before the building site, a tall and half –finished four - storey structure with what Buffy imagined, would have been a killer view.

Literally.

The device in Cordelia’s hand began to buzz and beep hysterically. “Yep. We have a jumper.”

Faith raised an eyebrow.

“Dimension jumper.” Cordy clarified.

Buffy raised her axe. “Good. Now I don’t feel so bad about slaughtering the lamb.”

Faith shrugged. “Doesn’t make much difference to me.” She squared her shoulders. “Ready?”

“Here we go.” Cordy said, leading them into the building.

---

They discovered the demon within seconds. It was hard to miss bright green skin in a background of grey cement. The demon stood about seven feet tall, spikes following its spine all the way down to the base of the short tail at its rear. Red eyes glowed bright in a green head with vicious teeth and large ears.

It leapt out at Faith as she took a step onto the second floor of the site, knocking her to the ground. Instantly, Cordelia sliced her sword across its back, catching a spike and a thin layer of skin. The demon growled and pulled back, lashing out with its claws and causing her to nearly stumble as she tried to catch her balance.

Buffy kicked it in the stomach, making it lose its balance and Faith was able to scramble out from underneath it, her knife imbedding itself deep in the demon’s stomach. It howled, glaring at her.

“Payback’s a bitch.” She said with a shrug, leaping out of the way when it lashed out again, nearly catching her in the face.

Cordelia impressively slashed an x into the air, stepping forward on one foot and stabbing the sword into the demon’s shoulder and pulling it out. It made a slick, popping noise and she winced, cutting it through the air again when the demon recovered and reached for her. This time, she cut off a hand.

The demon screeched in agony, thrashing crazily with its good arm. It knocked into Buffy, sending her sprawling across the floor. Faith kicked the demon in the leg, punching it when it swivelled towards her. She whipped her knife through the air, slicing a clean cut across its cheek. It howled once again, making a grab for her and only succeeding in ripping out a few strands of her hair.

Nonetheless, Faith growled. “You son of a bitch!” She threw her knife, watched in satisfaction as it spun and hurtled through the air, imbedding itself between the demon’s shoulder blades. “Do you have any idea how important a girl’s hair is to her sex life?”

Cordelia nearly snorted with laughter. “Cut it some slack, Faith.” She attacked the demon again with her sword, sliding it neatly in and out of its chest.

“Why?” Faith grumped.

“Because,” Cordy grinned at Buffy, who had gotten up and raced back over, “would you fuck a face like that?”

“No way, no how, nuh – uh.” Buffy said, kicking the demon and sending it stumbling backwards a few feet. She seemed to consider it for a second. “Although, considering how deficient my love life’s been recently - ”

“Do NOT finish that sentence.” Cordy yelped, her eyes widening.

Faith tilted her head curiously. “Am I getting paid for it?”

This time Cordelia did laugh.

The demon roared, interrupting her as it staggered a few feet away, severely injured and *very* angry. It dashed raggedly at them, arms wide open as it prepared to launch. Faith and Cordelia ducked as Buffy reared her axe back, carving it expertly through the air. She took a step to the side just as the demon approached, the weapon neatly slicing its head from its shoulders.

The head rolled between them while the body continued to run for a few seconds, eventually collapsing to the ground, still. Buffy dropped the axe, releasing a tired breath as Cordy and Faith straightened.

“Well,” she said, brushing her hands off, “so much for the Mojito demon.”

Cordelia grinned at Buffy’s mispronunciation, raising her arm in an imaginary toast. “Cheers.”

---

The wind blew through his hair as he watched over the city of angels, *his* city, still and silent with a heavy heart. Memories flooded him, memories of a wild, untamed creature of the night, a creature with no bounds, no fears or uncertainties.

He lowered his head, his heart filled with a sadness that had settled the very day he’d signed away his soul. A sadness that refused to leave.

Memories were all they were. And all they ever would be.

He was a prisoner now, a captive in his own city.

He knew praying was beyond him – God and he had abandoned each other centuries ago. But deep in his soundless heart, deep where the taint of blood and death and deals with the devil had no meaning to a feral beast born to the darkness - there was still hope.

He had always reserved the right to hope.

Beneath him, Los Angeles slept, peaceful and unaware of a single soul’s turmoil. A soul once innocent, a soul once on a mission to redemption – a soul that now discontentedly belonged to the devil.

He swallowed, looking heavenward to the sky.

Just before the crack of dawn, an Angel hoped for an angel to save him.


Part 2

Wesley glanced at the papers in his hands, reading his own typed-out words over and over. He’d condensed and summarized their latest case on a single sheet of paper for the benefit of Faith, Buffy and Cordelia, who, in his past experience, preferred to avoid long, complicated explanations. It still baffled him a little – three smart, independent women refusing to take on a little heavy reading.

He’d called them the previous evening, notifying them of an important meeting he was holding today, regarding their latest cases. Their latest, biggest and most unthinkable cases, he should have added, at least for the one.

He scanned the sheets concerning the case in question, shaking his head.

They weren’t going to believe their ears.

---

Xander Harris stared at his best friend as she sat at the table opposite him, slowly sipping her morning iced-coffee. His eyes were drawn to the pucker of her lips as they held the straw between them, the gentle curve of her cheekbone, the soft tendril of blonde hair that fell into her sparkling green eyes –

Xander swallowed.

Buffy was looking at him, grinning widely. “What?”

He cleared his throat. “What?”

“You were staring at me.”

“You have a coffee moustache.” Xander sighed with relief when Buffy immediately frowned, dabbing at her face with her napkin.

“Gone?”

“Yep.”

The universe was against him. He just knew it. Eight years he’d felt this way about her, eight years he’d been head over heels in love and she didn’t have a clue…

She never would.

Xander ignored the pang in his heart, instead choosing to do what he always did. Hide it all away and pretend it didn’t exist. “So how’s Cordelia?”

Buffy raised an eyebrow at him. “She’s fine. Why?”

Xander feigned innocence. “No reason.”

“Come on, Xan.” Buffy chuckled, winking teasingly at him. “She’s a little outta your league, dontchya think? The girl’s practically nobility…”

“So she’s classy.” Xander shrugged, his eyes twinkling. “Maybe she’s an uptown girl looking for a back street guy…”

“Nah.” Buffy shook her head. “She only ever dates upmarket guys. It’s not like she looks down on guys who aren’t.” She hurriedly added at his look. “She just has expensive taste. Ya know, designer suits, shoes, car – the works. They gotta be clean but kinda rough around the edges, kinda intense and broody.” She looked him over, smiling. “And you’re not exactly a Donald Trump wannabe.”

Xander pouted. “So that’s a no?”

Buffy laughed, laying her hand over his. “Aw Xander, I still love you.” She glanced at her watch, unaware of the way his heart quickened, the way his hand clenched beneath her palm, the way his face fell and then rebuilt its previous expression by the time she’d looked up. “I guess we’re all searching for love, huh?”

Xander snorted. “Right. Like you actually have to search.”

Buffy pouted slightly, and her eyes appeared strangely sad. “I do.” She stared at him forlornly and Xander felt his throat close up. “I still am. I’m beginning to think I’ll never find it.”

Xander opened his mouth to say something but paused when she glanced at her watch again.

“Shoot, I gotta go, Wesley has some big new project from the Powers under his belt he wants to fill us in on and I can’t be late.”

She got out of her seat and Xander stood too, watching her as she swung her jacket around and slid it over her shoulders. She wrapped her arms around him, kissing his cheek. A quick “bye” was whispered in his ear and then she was gone, her back to him as she jogged out of the café and across the road to her car.

Xander let out a breath and sat down, leaning back in his seat.

Yup, the universe was *definitely* against him.

---

“Bagels?”

“Yep, that’s me.” Faith hopped out of her seat in the tiny café, grabbing the bagels and handing over the money to the girl behind the counter. “Thanks.”

She folded the brown paper bag at the top, putting her sunglasses on and stepping out into the brilliant sunshine. A grin broke across her face as warm rays of sunshine kissed her face. She licked her lips and glanced at her watch. Wes needed them at the office soon. She’d have to make a move if she wanted to get there on time, or at least earlier than -

“HEY!”

A loud shout interrupted her train of thought and Faith swiftly looked up, her eyes narrowing when she saw a young man, possibly in his mid twenties, viciously trying to yank an older woman’s bag away from her arm. The woman was putting up a fair fight but the guy suddenly shoved her, and she released the bag, nearly falling over backwards. The robber broke into a sprint, rounding the corner.

“No peace for the wicked. “ Faith muttered, breaking into a sprint after him, her feet moving supernaturally fast across the pavement. She expertly dodged passers by, aware that she must have looked like nothing more than blur to them, but her mind was on the task at hand. She was just a few feet away from the thief now. She sped up, the bagels swinging at her side.

The man turned, glancing at her in fear.

BIG mistake.

The action slowed him down and Faith ploughed into him, sending them both tumbling over. He dropped the bag and scrambled for it but Faith was there first. She threw the bag a few feet away, out of reach, and stood staring down at him, her breathing heavy.

When he looked up at her, she grinned. “Hiya.”

The man spat blood out of his mouth, probably from his collision with the pavement. “Bitch!” He lunged at her but Faith stepped neatly out of the way and he stumbled slightly, catching himself before he fell face forward. He spun around and ran at her again, throwing a punch. Faith ducked, elbowing him in the stomach.

The thief coughed and took a step back, grabbing his abdomen. “Who are you?” He bellowed angrily, glaring at her.

Faith only shrugged, hands on her hips. “Just think of me as retribution.”

The man scrunched his face up. “Who?”

Faith rolled her eyes, looking over his shoulder as the sound of sirens rang through the air. She calmly pointed behind him. “Cavalry’s here.”

The robber spun around. One look at the police car and he gasped, making a run for it. Faith caught his shirt, causing his entire body to jerk and swivel. He lashed out at her once again and this time Faith took no chances, swiftly raising her knee and slamming it into his groin. He groaned, a small squeak escaping him as he sank to the floor, both hands clutching his crotch.

“I didn’t wanna have to go and do that.” Faith said, feigning regret. “But you left me little choice.” She walked over and retrieved the bag, turning as the police car stopped, and a familiar face with blonde hair and a suave pantsuit emerged.

“Faith!” The blonde said, smiling warmly.

“Katie!” Faith grinned, her tongue between her teeth. “How you been?”

“Good, not too shabby.” Kate responded, staring at the man curled in a foetal position on the floor. “I see you’re doing my rounds for me.” She looked up, smiling.

“Hey, it’s a dirty job but someone’s gotta do it.” Faith quipped, shrugging. “Plus, you know me. I can never resist a bad boy.”

“Hmm.” Kate glanced over her shoulder. “Demon where it should have been?”

Faith joined her thumb and index finger in a circle, raising the three remaining fingers in the universal sign of perfect. “Building site. Just like you said.”

Kate nodded, looking once again at the thief as the two policemen who’d arrived at the scene with her took him into custody. She grimaced. “What is it with you and *that* area?”

Faith laughed. “Nobody likes change.”

Kate nodded. “Sure. At least you’re consistent.”

“I try.”

The police car honked once and Kate smiled apologetically. “I should go. It was good seeing you. How are the girls?”

“They’re great.”

Kate nodded, her eyes twinkling. “And Wes?”

Faith smirked. “Oh, he’s just fine.” She licked her lips. “You two should just shag already.”

Kate gave her an odd look. “I don’t know what you’re talking about Faith.” The police car honked again and Kate glanced over her shoulder. “Okay, I really have to go. You’ll return the bag?”

“After I’ve ransacked it for spare cash, sure.” Faith smiled at her, waving as Kate got into the car.

“Don’t even joke about that.” Kate warned teasingly. “Oh, and Faith? Thanks.” She rolled up the window and Faith watched as the car gained speed and drove off into the distance.

She turned and headed back around the corner, back to the street where the robbed woman stood, now in the midst of a small, concerned crowd. Her eyes widened as Faith walked over, pulling the bag out from under her arm.

“Oh, you angel!” She exclaimed and Faith had to grin at that as the woman clutched her bag tightly to her. “Thank you so much. Is there anything I can do? I’m so grateful - ”

“Oh no.” Faith shook her head, smiling. “This is pretty standard for me.”

The woman nodded, a smile lighting her face. “Well, God bless people like you.”

Faith chuckled. “Sure, why not? I practically work for the guy.”

---

Something warm and wet against her hand dragged her out of blissful slumber. Cordy blinked sleepily, shielding her eyes against the sunlight streaming through the balcony doors. She glanced over and grinned at Jack, the love of her life – her beloved Golden Retriever, who was still lapping at her hand.

“Morning gorgeous…” She said between yawning, ruffling the hair on his head. He barked and wagged his tail, resting his front paws on the bed. The phone rang beside her bed, startling both of them. Cordy rolled over, grabbing it and yawning into the receiver.

“Hello?”

“Chase?” Riley Finn, her closest friend’s voice filtered through the phone. He sounded confused. “What the hell are you still doing in bed? Catching up on beauty sleep?”

“Hey!” Cordy frowned. “Like I need it.”

“Well, get up.” He ordered. “Don’t make me come over there.”

Cordelia closed her eyes, laying a hand over her forehead. “Ri, it’s too early for me to play along to your ‘I am scary, dammit’ routine.”

“Early?” Riley squeaked, and she could picture his eyebrows shooting up. “Chase, it’s 11 o’clock.”

Cordy jerked up in bed, her eyes widening.

“WHAT?”

“What, what?”

She glanced at the clock on her bedside table. “Shit!”

Wesley was going to KILL her.

---

She was over half an hour late.

“So kind of you to join us, Cordelia.” Wes shot her a disapproving glare as she strolled into the room.

“Keep your panties on.” Cordy hung her coat up and walked over to the sofa, taking a seat. She grinned at Faith and Buffy. “Ladies.”

“Who you callin’ a lady?” Faith said, winking. “I chased after a public offender for twenty minutes this morning and I am *still* earlier than you are.”

“I overslept.” Cordy shrugged coolly. “And you being on time, let alone earlier than anyone else is a rare occurrence, so hush.”

“If you’re quite finished arguing about each other’s punctuality…” Wesley shot them a stern look and both girls immediately shut up, though they covered their mouths to keep from laughing. “Right. I require your full attention on this matter – it’s one of our bigger cases, if not our biggest yet.”

He returned to his desk and picked up a remote control, aiming it at the wall opposite him. The girls turned in their seats just as the wall split open and spread apart, revealing the large, rectangular screen. Immediately, a picture of a grand, stylish and unpleasantly familiar building appeared on the screen.

“I got word from the Powers That Be yesterday evening,” Wesley began, “regarding their latest assignment. They wish for us to help - ”

“Is that Wolfram and Hart?” Buffy asked, staring at the image of the structure.

“ - the CEO of Wolfram and Hart.” Wesley finished, an annoyed expression on his face. He appeared quite pleased when three pairs of eyes swivelled around to stare at him.

“What???”

Wesley ignored them completely. “Of course, I was as surprised as you when I was told. However, the Powers made it perfectly clear that this is what they want.”

“They cannot be serious…” Faith shook her head.

Buffy opened her mouth, then closed it again, then seemed to find her tongue and opened it once more. “But they’re evil! They’re totally malicious and corrupt! We’ve spent half our time fighting their clients and their employees – why would the Powers want us to help them?”

“She’s right.” Cordy added. “It doesn’t make any sense.”

Wesley frowned. “Perhaps you should all take a lesson in allowing one to finish their explanation.”

“Perhaps you should take one in speeding it up…” Cordy muttered.

“I heard that.” Wesley snipped. “The Powers don’t want us to help Wolfram and Hart per sae.” He clicked on the remote control again and the picture on the screen changed. The image of an extremely handsome man with dark hair and deep, dark eyes materialized. “They only want us to help one person in particular.”

For a few seconds there was silence. Then –

“Whoa.” Faith said in awe, glancing at Wesley. “Did you switch to cable or something?”

Wes almost smiled. He pointed to the screen. “This is the CEO of Wolfram and Hart.”

Buffy’s jaw dropped. “HIM???”

Cordy grinned. “You know what they say about evil wearing a pretty face.”

This time, Wesley did smile. “Funny you say that, Cordy.” He picked up a few sheets of paper from his desk and handed each girl a sheet. “His name is Angel, or Angelus, meaning ‘angelic one’ or ‘the one with the angelic face’. The name was delegated to him by his sire.”

“He’s a vampire?” Buffy yelped.

Cordy rolled her eyes. “Told you he was evil…”

“No.” Wesley cleared his throat. “He’s a vampire with a soul.”

Once again, the girls were stunned into silence. And once again, it was Faith who broke it.

“Say what?”

“If you look at the sheets I’ve given you, they provide all the information you’ll need.” Wesley said, adjusting his glasses. “Angel was turned during the 18th Century. He was in his late twenties when it happened.” Wes paced the room, the piece of paper held firmly in his hand. “For over a hundred years he wreaked havoc, took and destroyed lives, left towns burned and broken – he was known as the Scourge of Europe.”

Buffy winced. “And we’re gonna help him why?”

Wesley stopped and watched her very solemnly. “Because around eighty years ago he was cursed with a soul. He killed a gypsy girl and her family placed a curse on him so that he would remember all the pain and death he caused, every victim, every face…” Wes’s expression was stone serious. “Every last detail.”

Faith frowned, her brow creasing. “Okay, not to sound insensitive but – so what? He was ruthless and he killed so many people without blinking an eye. Surely he deserves to suffer.”

“Of course.” Wesley nodded. “But for the past several decades he has dedicated his life to helping the helpless, much like us. Perhaps it is his way of giving back some of the life he took away. The soul allows him to feel regret and compassion, and that is the true source of his desire to assist those in need.”

“But he works for Wolfram and Hart.” Buffy looked incredibly puzzled. “It just doesn’t make sense.”

“He used to be a champion for the Powers.” Wesley said, smiling at the shocked looks he received. “He was on the road to redemption, atoning with a soul for all the sins he committed without one. The Powers were going to make him human someday as a reward for all his hard work and integrity.”

“So what happened?”

“Last year he made a bad decision.” Wes said. “Several bad decisions actually – and they cost him. He lost almost everything and he made a deal with Wolfram and Hart. In exchange for his soul, his son - ”

“He has a son?” Faith’s eyes were wide.

“Yes, a miracle child born of two vampires, human but physically very much like a vampire. It is a rather complicated tale. And perhaps not surprisingly, not a terribly happy one. To make a long story short—”

Cordy shook her head, trying to clear the fuzz induced by the onslaught of information. “Too late.”

“This really isn’t the point, children,” Wesley said impatiently. “Look, the son, Connor I believe it was, went absolutely out of his mind and tried to destroy everything Angel held dear, as well as Angel himself. It ultimately resulted in hostages and an explosive situation—of the literal and figurative kind. So, to save those involved, Angel made this deal.”

“Save them how?” Cordy asked in an almost-whisper, still staring intently at the screen.

“He traded the only thing he had left to give—his soul,” Wesley answered solemnly, then frowned. “As I was saying before I was interrupted, in exchange for Angel’s soul, he was given the Los Angeles branch of Wolfram and Hart and all its resources to run how he saw fit.”

“Of course he chose to further help the helpless and benefit the forces of good. But no longer with the assistance of the Powers That Be. As for his son… there’s no record human or mystical that the child ever existed. It’s only because of the Powers that I don’t feel the fool for even suggesting what should be an impossibility. I can only speculate that Wolfram and Hart altered reality and all memory of the boy was erased.”

“So vamp-child is dead?” Faith wondered aloud.

““Wow.” Buffy said. “My mom always says the hardest thing in the world would be to lose her children before they lose her.”

“Yes, so all loving parents say,” Wesley qualified, before clearing his throat again and continuing. “Which is why I doubt that he sacrificed his soul so his son could die. But for all intents and purposes, the boy is gone and regardless of what happened to Connor, the situation as it stands now has prompted the Powers to intervene. Various and copious past mistakes aside, Angel has a valuable role to play. And not to put a fine point on it, the man—um, vampire’s unhappy and he doesn’t want to be there. Unfortunately this is one bad decision he can’t get himself out of.”

“Damn. I never thought I’d come across a depressed vampire.” Faith said with a hint of a smile.

“Aah, that reminds me.” Wes said, clicking on the remote control once again. The screen switched off and the walls slowly slid back into place. “Angel may have a soul but it was the result of a curse. And curses come with clauses.”

He paused dramatically and Cordy rolled her eyes.

“It’s not an exact science, but the gypsies wanted him to suffer an eternity of guilt and anguish. Therefore, if Angel experiences a single moment of perfect happiness, he will lose his soul and become Angelus again.”

“Bummer.” Faith said and Cordy knew immediately that she was thinking about sex.

“Yes.” Wes agreed, clearly unaware of what he’d just agreed to. “That being said, it doesn’t mean he cannot experience any happiness whatsoever. As long as it’s not too much all at once, and as long as he doesn’t forget all the terrible things he did and why the curse was put on him.” He leaned against his desk. “Though I hardly doubt he’s come across any happiness, what with losing his son and thinking the Powers have abandoned him. Not to mention taking on the responsibility of an evil law firm.”

“What do you want us to do?” Cordy asked, surprised at how sorry she felt for the vampire. Everyone deserved a little happiness in their lives, especially in cases like this.

Though to be honest, she noted with a smile, there were no cases like this.

Wesley glanced at her. “Go to Wolfram and Hart. He’s not aware of your coming or this scenario but the Powers know he wants out so just be honest with him. Through my study of vampires I can certainly tell you this – they don’t like being lied to.” He sighed. “Mention the Powers, talk a little bit about yourselves perhaps, what it is you do and why you want to help him.”

“So we have to act like he’s doing us a favour?” Faith asked indignantly.

“No,” Wes sighed. “It’s just that he might take a while to warm to you. Look, all I’m saying is, the Powers want Angel back in their corner. He’s a champion but he’s lost – we just need to guide him back to the path and get him out of there before he loses it completely.” He grinned. “And hey, with three beautiful women like yourselves strolling into his office and asking to be of service, how’s a man of any age or status to refuse you anything?”

“I don’t think we’d be thinking about the same services, Wes.” Cordy said dryly. “Ya know, gender – wise.”

“So how old is he now?” Buffy asked, cutting off Wesley before he had a chance to defend male integrity.

“250.”

Faith whistled. “Grandpa.”

“Vegetable.” Cordy agreed.

“None of the above.” Wesley said sternly, shaking his head. “As you know, vampires don’t age, and Angel is rather different to your standard vampire. Obviously, there’s the soul, but he is also faster, stronger and cleverer. Essentially, he’s immortal.”

He turned then, and retrieved a folder from his desk, seemingly done with his explanation. Silence filled the room as the girls considered the vast amount of information they’d been given. Cordy leaned back against the couch. Helping the CEO of Wolfram & Hart seemed an inexcusable act – and yet, something about the idea attracted her. She felt unexpected sympathy for the vampire -

“I bet he’s great in bed.” Faith suddenly wondered aloud and Cordy snickered at Wesley’s dismayed look. “All that stamina… “ She trailed off, tapping her chin. “Too bad about the big happy clause.”

“Do you want us to go tonight?” Buffy asked.

“No, it will have to keep until tomorrow,” Wesley demurred without looking up, apparently drawn deep into thought by something in the now open file balanced in his hand.

Then he just as quickly snapped the folder shut, reached for a thin stack of typed sheets of paper on his desk, and faced them with a familiar sparkle in his eye. That glimmer usually preceded a long, animated lecture on whatever archaic mumbo-jumbo was at the heart of their latest case. More times than not, the lecture itself resembled an awkward tango wherein Wes alternated between bubbling over with excitement and adopting the attitude of a beleaguered Oxford don.

The girls, on the other hand, gave their best imitation of paying attention or, at the very least, not noticeably falling asleep mid-lesson.

When he didn’t immediately elaborate, Cordelia and Buffy exchanged glances.

“So we’re having this urgent meeting because—?” Faith made a ‘hurry up already’ motion with her hand in Wesley’s general direction

Refusing to be rushed, Wesley cleared his throated quietly and handed the papers to Buffy before circling slowly back to his desk. “We have a priority case to deal with first.”

His back was turned when Cordelia made a half-dive for the other brunette’s moving hand before it became a gesture of an entirely different nature.

“Can you be a little less Agatha Christie and move on to the useful details please?” Cordy took a page from the stack Buffy passed her, handing the single remaining sheet to Faith.

“Yeah, this oughta be good” Faith chimed in. “What exactly trumps bringing down the law firm from hell and saving Tall, Dark and Broodelicious?”

“Well I wouldn’t say trumps but - ” If Wesley looked any more pleased with what he was about to say next, the buttons of his shirt would start popping off. “This case involves a serial-killing vampire to be exact. He’s practically royalty—a Count in fact.”

Faith’s face screwed up as she watched him and muttered to the women seated on either side of her. “If the word ‘Dracula’ comes outta his mouth, we’re switching him to decaffeinated tea.”

“I am not discussing a classic novel that has been bastardized and distorted to the point of absurdity for the gratification of the cinematic public!” Wesley glowered from across the desk.

“Hey, some of us are visual learners,” Buffy retorted. “Give me a movie over some stuffy English lit class any day.”

Wesley was beginning to look apoplectic. “Oh, and I suppose equating an actor whose greatest character portrayal includes playing air guitar and travelling through time and space in a phone booth to a *real* vampire hunter seems perfectly acceptable to you?”

Cordelia suddenly stuck out her index finger at him as a warning. “Don’t start with the Keanu comments.”

He shut his eyes and appeared to be silently praying for patience. “Perhaps we should return to the matter at hand before this conversation gets completely out of control.” His eyes were still closed when Faith muttered ‘too late for that’ not-so-under her breath. Blue eyes flashed open at her but Wesley pretended to ignore her. “As I was saying… we have a count to deal with—one who is obsessed on a count of a different kind entirely.”

At their collective blank stares he groaned. “A body count?”

“Aah.”

“Right.”

“Gotchya.”

Wesley rolled his eyes, rather put out. “As I was saying, he’s an important noble figure in Los Angeles. No one can touch him.”

Cordy smiled. “Except for us.”

Wesley grinned. “Right you are.”

“Do we get to dress up?”

“Of course.”

“Yay.” Buffy grinned. “I’m in.”

“Might I add?” Wesley asked, glancing at her. “He appears to have a brunette fetish.”

“Oh.” Buffy huffed, looking a little disappointed.

Faith smirked, putting an arm around Cordelia. “Guess that leaves us to the dirty work.”


Part 3

The bar was on the 50th floor of LA’s glitziest, most glamorous hotel, complete with the breathtaking view and enough beautiful people to fill a hundred glossy magazines. Men and women wined, dined and danced in exquisite attire – dashing tuxedos, long, lavish gowns and glittering diamond jewellery. Champagne was served like it were going out of style and an exclusive and brilliant jazz band played in the corner.

Faith surveyed the large room from her position behind the bar. She glanced in the mirror, quickly adjusting her bowtie and waistcoat. She’d drawn the short straw – being the waitress while Buffy and Cordy dressed up in luxurious ball gowns, but in all honestly she couldn’t be happier. At least she was comfortable.

“Do you think you could stop checking yourself out in the mirror long enough for someone to get a drink around here?”

Faith spun around, grinning at her latest customer. “Evening ma’am. What can I get you?”

Buffy raised an eyebrow from her bar stool, her long blonde hair slickly combed back and tied up in a bun. She wore an elegant strapless red gown and elbow length gloves to match. “Ma’am?”

Faith shrugged. “It’s all part of the costume.”

“Right.” Buffy said. “I’ll have a martini.”

“Coming right up.” Faith turned and grabbed a martini glass from the shelf. She poured the clear liquid into the glass and speared an olive, dropping it in. She placed the glass in front of Buffy.

“Thank you.” Buffy sipped her drink, looking up in surprise. “Nice.”

“Thank *you*.” Faith grinned. She looked over at the elevator from which several people were now pouring out. “Any luck with the Count?”

“Haven’t seen him yet.” Buffy said, without looking up. She spun on her bar stool, her gaze scrutinizing as it travelled over the room. Tuxedos were visible everywhere but clearly, she hadn’t yet recognized the man Wesley had shown them a photograph of earlier that evening.

“Pardon me mademoiselle.” Someone bumped lightly against her shoulder and she turned around, staring at the handsome man in a tailcoat. He smiled politely at her, then turned to Faith. Something about him was familiar. He spoke with an accent and his entire demeanour was suave, sophisticated. “I’d like a whisky on the rocks, s'il vous plaît.”

Faith nodded and set about the task. She piled ice into the small glass, glancing up into the mirror lining the back of the bar. The man was looking elsewhere but Buffy was looking right at her, her eyes wide. Faith raised an eyebrow.

‘That’s him.’ Buffy mouthed, subtly pointing her finger in the direction of the man. ‘That’s the Count.’

Faith’s eyes widened. She quickly poured the whisky into the glass and placed it on the counter top. “There you go, sir.”

The Count reached for his wallet but Faith raised a hand, stopping him. “It’s on the house.”

He seemed surprised, but smiled slowly as he looked her up and down. “Merci. Perhaps I can return the favour a little later during the evening?” Faith smiled and the Count picked his drink off the counter, raising it to her and then turning, stepping away from the bar.

At Buffy’s look, Faith shrugged. “What? Might as well buy the guy the drink if we’re gonna make it his last.”

Buffy rolled her eyes, twisting in her seat so she could follow the Count’s movements as he made his way across the room. He stopped to grab a flute of champagne from a passing waiter, placing it in the hand of a woman on his right. He smiled winningly, striking up a conversation.

“Smooth.” Faith said, impressed.

Buffy pressed her middle finger just inside her ear, activating the communication device there. Faith could just about make out Cordelia’s irritated, “It’s about time.”

“Got him.” Buffy said. “You’re good to go.”

She removed her finger, her eyes never leaving the Count. He was still with the same woman, clearly his next target. They needed to move fast.

Faith released a breath. “Come on, Cordy.”

On cue, the elevator dinged and the doors parted slowly to reveal Cordelia. She stood in the doorway, one arm leaning against the side of the lift. Her shoulder length hair hung in loose curls and she wore an off-shoulder, midnight blue gown with a thigh high slit. Diamond jewellery decorated her ears, neck and wrists.

Harry Winston, eat your heart out.

Several heads turned towards the elevator, observing the newest arrival. A small smirk slid onto Cordelia’s face as she stepped confidently away from the door and into the room, never looking directly at anyone. A waiter offered her a flute of champagne and she took it with a smile, bringing the glass to her lips.

She paused then, her eyes locking with Buffy’s. She raised an eyebrow inquiringly. Buffy’s glanced at the Count, then back at Cordelia, then repeated the movement. Cordelia began moving across the room and towards the Count, her expression cold as ice as she weaved through the crowd.

Within a few moments she stood in front of him, her lips stretching into a beautiful smile. Faith grinned as the Count abandoned the indignant woman he’d been talking to and turned to Cordy with a smirk. He bowed slightly, probably introducing himself. Cordelia extended her hand and he took it between his, pressing a kiss to it.

“Why is it that all the hot guys we see or meet lately are dead?” Faith made a face, glancing at Buffy. “So what do we do now?”

Buffy smirked. “Sit back and watch the show.”

---

Cordy successfully managed to hide the grimace as the Count’s lips brushed her hand. She noticed his lack of body temperature at the contact. He straightened, his hold on her still firm as he took a step closer.

“Mademoiselle,” His gaze was piercing as he held her eyes. “Would you do me the honour of a dance?”

Cordelia nodded, allowing her lips to curl into a smile. The Count led her through the crowd and to the dance floor, turning to face her and pulling her close. She stretched out her arms, her right hand curling around his shoulder, elbow bent sharply, her left sitting lightly in his right as he led her in the tango.

“You are,” He murmured, “the most exquisite woman I have ever laid eyes on.”

Cordy barely suppressed the rolling of her eyes. Instead, she smirked. “And *you* are living up to your licentious reputation.”

The Count laughed, apparently delighted with her. They spun around and Cordy wrapped her calf around his leg as he bent her over his elbow. He pulled her up, bridging the gap between them and she found her nose pressed against his shoulder. Her eyes scanned the crowd. Jealous women looked on as she danced with the most wanted man in the room and for a moment, Cordy was tempted to let the vacuous idiots discover the truth for themselves.

She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. She used to be one of them not so long ago. And they certainly didn’t deserve to die.

The hand she’d curled around the Count’s elbow tensed in anger. He glanced at her but she didn’t spare him a look as they continued to dance, her body moving rhythmically with his, her chin held high.

Slowly, the dance came to an end and Cordelia loosened her hold on him, expecting him to do the same. The Count however, held her close, his lips moving against her ear in a whisper.

“I would like to show you something.”

Cordelia raised an eyebrow but was careful to keep the sexy half-smile she’d glued on upon arrival. “I’ve heard that before.”

The Count smiled but his grip tightened, conveying the message that he wasn’t giving her a choice. “Please. Come with me.”

Cordelia relented, sighing. “Oh, alright.”

The Count grinned wickedly, pressing another kiss to her hand before he wrapped an arm around her waist, leading her through the crowd and out onto the large, magnificent balcony, away from the party, the music and the people.

Where, Cordelia realized, no one would hear her scream.

She allowed the Count to lead her all the way to the edge of the balcony, her side pressed snugly against his. She had to admire the view from where they stood – it was breathtaking, the lights of Los Angeles glimmering brilliantly beneath them.

“Isn’t it magnificent?” The Count asked her, his arm still around her waist.

“Yes.” Cordelia turned to face him. “Is this what you wanted to show me?”

The Count smiled slowly. “In part. The truth is I just wanted to get you away from that crowd – all to myself.”

He ran his hand over her bare shoulder and cupped the side of her neck, stroking it. Cordy fought the urge to shudder, all her senses on high alert at the way his nostrils flared and his eyes darted to the pulse in her neck.

She smoothed both palms over his chest and up his arms, holding his gaze. “I’m flattered.”

He pressed against her lower back, bringing her flush against him as he tilted her chin up, pressing his lips to hers. He was a good kisser, she’d give him that. Evidently the man had had some practice. This was probably his ‘routine’ with his victims.

She cupped his face, her thumbs pressed cautiously against his jaw line as she guided him. That mouth of his wasn’t going anywhere near her neck.

He cupped the back of her knee, pulling it over and around his thigh. Cordy whimpered for effect, pulling away briefly to breathe. The Count searched her lips out again, sliding his palm up the side of her leg, over smooth, flawless –

“Ow!” The Count ripped himself away from her, staring in shock at his bleeding hand. He looked at Cordelia’s leg, just visible through the thin thigh high slit. Cordy pulled the material back, revealing the stake hidden in her garter, pointy side down.

The Count’s jaw dropped.

Cordy smirked. “Surprise.”

Without a moment’s wait, she punched him square in the jaw, sending him reeling back. His head snapped forward, the face of a vampire, eyes an angry yellow. He lunged for her, shoving her hard against the balcony railing. She stumbled and he grabbed her by the shoulders, curling his fist and throwing it forward. But Cordy was faster. She brought her knee up, slamming it into his groin and stopping him mid – punch. The Count’s face constricted in pain and he growled, bending over.

Cordelia used the momentarily weakness to her advantage, slamming her elbow into his jaw. He fell sideways onto the railing, his hands grabbing it for balance. Cordy whipped the stake out of her garter, flipping it in her hand.

In two steps she curled her hand in the Count’s hair, jerking it back and exposing his chest. She brought her lips close to his ear.

“Considering I’m a woman an’ all? This whole killing us thing you’ve got going on is a real turn – off for me.”

She plunged the stake into his chest, wincing when he screeched in agony. In seconds, there was an explosion of dust and Cordy coughed, waving it away. She pressed a finger against her ear, activating her communication device.

“All clear.”

---

Buffy removed the finger from her ear. She downed the last of her martini, turning to Faith. “That’s our cue.”

Faith cleared the empty drinks that had been placed on the counter, putting them away. She straightened and gestured towards the elevator, smirking at Buffy. “Ladies first.”

---

Music still blared from the party and Cordy stopped short of making her way back inside, glancing through the balcony doors and observing the dancing couples, waiters and suspicious, jealous women that obstructed her path to the elevator.

More importantly, the woman she’d lured the Count away from had her eyes locked on the door leading to the balcony and was making a beeline this way, along with a couple of men who looked like they could very well be the Count’s minions.

The odds were that the woman had kept a steady watch on the door from the second the Count had left with Cordy on his arm. Which would make it impossible to explain how he’d conveniently disappeared without going into the whole vampire thing. Plus, the woman was a card-carrying member of the unsuspecting public and would most likely prefer to think Cordelia under the influence of drugs or garden-variety insanity if she went with the truth. Then there was the fact that she was outnumbered. And there was no way to get from the balcony back into the bar except the doors in question.

Well, that exit was out.

Hastily, Cordelia snapped the stake in half, throwing it over the railing. She pulled her dress over her left leg, removing the lengthy garter wrapped around her thigh. It was in fact a transportation device, one that would get her off the balcony with no one the wiser.

She ripped the blue material halfway off the top, revealing the several hundred feet of gossamer thin cable inside that Wesley swore on everything holy and his future progeny was as strong as steel. She wrapped one end of the thick, blue material twice around the railing, tying it in a square knot for security. The torn end that was attached to the steel cable went in and around her palm and she held it tight, glancing over the edge of the balcony.

“Fifty stories.” Cordy breathed out. If Wes said it would work, it would work, right? “No biggie.”

With that, she leapt off the edge, the steel cable unwinding speedily and sending her gliding down the side of the building. Her dress flew out and upwards from underneath her as the ground rushed towards her at a rapid pace. The breath rushed out of her lungs and her head spun as the ground approached her, closer and closer and – she squeezed the built in brake device, wincing as the cable jerked and halted. She felt her heels hit the pavement, her hand immediately releasing the material in her palm. It sliced though the air above her, reeling back into place at the top of the building.

Oddly calm, she ran a hand through her hair, massaging her shoulder and inner elbow as she took in her surroundings. Her eyes quickly landed on the car parked right in front of her, as well as the two figures seated inside, both looking a little impatient and a LOT bored.

“What took ya?” Buffy asked, yawning as she reclined in the back seat.

“Quit whining.” Cordy said, getting into the passenger seat and slamming the door shut. “At least your dress is dust free.”

Faith grinned and turned on the ignition. “Job well done, ladies.” She pulled the car out of park and onto the street. The radio clicked on and the girls laughed, nodding their heads rhythmically to the tune that blared out. Triumphant, they drove off, disappearing into the night.

---

Wesley pulled out his keys as he performed a balancing act on the stairs, his files precariously placed under his left arm. He locked the office, carefully sliding the key into his pocket, lunging for a folder when it nearly slipped out of his hold.

“Need some help with that?”

Wes froze, his heart suddenly beating a little faster in his chest. Slowly, he turned around.

Kate Lockley watched him with amusement, her eyebrows raised.

“Detective Lockley.”

“I told you to call me Kate.”

“Yes, Kate. Sorry.” Wesley muttered, wondering why he sounded like a teenage boy suffering the early stages of puberty. “I’ll manage, thank you.” He gestured to the stack of folders under his arm, inwardly groaning when the movement caused a couple to slip out. They clattered noisily against the pavement.

Kate chuckled, coming forward and lifting them off the ground. She held them against her chest, smiling smugly at him.

Wesley adjusted his glasses, looking sheepish. “Alright, I suppose that could have been avoided.”

“I bet you don’t ask for directions either.”

“Yes, well I’m only human.”

“You mean only male.”

“That too.” Kate and Wesley grinned at each other in a moment of comfortable silence, neither entirely sure what to say or do next.

Eventually, Kate cleared her throat. “So, I was just in the neighbourhood and I thought I’d stop by and say hi.”

“Oh, well that’s nice…” Wesley said, nodding his head vigorously. “That’s uh, very nice…very thoughtful of you…to stop by - ”

“You wanna buy me a cup of coffee?”

“Would love to.”

Kate grinned at the quick answer, cocking her head. “Great. Lead the way.”

“Well,” Wesley began, “Seeing as you’re carrying my folders, it’s only fair you choose the place.”

“A gentleman!” Kate teased. “I didn’t think they were any left.”

“Yes, well I’m English.” He held out his free arm and she took it, laughing as they walked down the street.

---

The girls had arrived at Buffy’s house a little after their disposal of the Count, hoping to unwind and stay there till morning, when duty would call, and case files about evil law firms and vampires who’d signed away their souls would need to be opened.

“I hate this movie.” Faith grumped, curling the big duvet snugly around her. She wiggled around in her position on the rug, settling once she was comfortable.

“Quit whining.” Cordy stepped over her and took a seat on the sofa, a bowl of popcorn in one hand, the remote control in the other. “Hold on, where’s the – Buffy!”

“Relax, I got it.” Buffy wandered out of the kitchen with a bottle of wine clasped in her hand. She balanced three glasses under her right arm, bending down so Faith could take them from her. “What are we watching?”

“Stepmom.” Faith said, rolling her eyes. Cordy smacked her with a pillow.

“Cordelia!” Buffy pouted. “You know that movie makes me cry.” She jumped off the sofa, heading back towards the kitchen. “We’re gonna need ice-cream…”

“What’s wrong with the movie, Faith?” Cordy asked, crossing her arms.

Faith turned to look at her. “It’s all schmaltzy AND there’s no sex.” She flicked her hair, staring at the television. “Does nothing for me.”

“Yeah right!” Cordy looked disbelieving. “You just don’t like to admit you cry every time you watch it.”

Faith’s eyes narrowed. “I do NOT cry.”

“Course not.” Cordy grinned, winking at Buffy as she returned to the living room with a tub of ice-cream that practically matched the size of her torso. “You’re a cold, heartless bitch.”

“Damn straight.”

“You forgot vicious.” Buffy took a seat. She began pulling down the sleeves of her jumper and restlessly picking at the material. Cordy glanced over at her, poking her in the shin.

“You okay?”

“Yeah.” Buffy smiled. “Just…thinking about work.”

Cordy frowned. “What about work?”

“Aah, I see.” Faith said, resting her arm on Cordy’s leg. “I mentioned sex and the CEO of Wolfram & Hart popped into your head.”

Buffy laughed. “Uh, no. Well…kindof.”

Faith shrugged. “I’d jump him.”

“So, what’s new?”

“Fair point.”

Cordy raised an eyebrow. “Uh, forgetting something? He’ll lose his soul if he ever experiences a moment of perfect happiness.” She contemplated that for a moment. “That’s gotta suck.”

“Hmm,” Buffy shrugged, “About the same as searching vainly for someone to make you perfectly happy.” Her expression seemed to crumble momentarily but then she shook her head, trying to recall her train of thought. “I still find it weird that we’re gonna help Wolfram & Hart.”

“But we’re not.” Cordy reminded her. “Just their CEO.”

“Who wants out.” Faith added.

Buffy shrugged. “Yeah, I guess. I mean, I know. It’s just…what if he doesn’t come easy?”

“Oh, you have no idea how wrong that sounded…” Faith smirked.

Cordelia ignored her. “Maybe he won’t to start with. But that’s why it’s a good thing we’re so persuasive. Look, Angel’s unhappy, the Powers want him back on their side, Wes told us what to say, and the way *I* see it - we have a job to do and we’re gonna get it done, whether he trusts us or not.”

When Buffy shot her a look, she shrugged. “Oh, come on, he’ll warm eventually. How could anyone find us less than lovable?”

Buffy smiled. Cordy patted her thigh and sat back, grabbing the remote control. “Now can we get back to our priorities, please?”

Faith groaned. Buffy chuckled. “Sure.”

The DVD player was switched on and the opening credits began playing across the screen.

“Here.” Buffy addressed Faith with amusement, dropping something into her lap. “Just in case.”

Cordy didn’t see what it was but seconds later the box of tissues came flying through the air and smacked Buffy in the face.

---

He slipped his shirt off his shoulders, throwing it into the laundry basket on his way to the king sized bed. The mattress was soft, the cushions goose feather and the blankets the most luxurious silk. It was like lying on heaven’s finest cloud.

Except that this was hell.

He growled, rubbing a hand over his face, his head pounding and his stomach swirling with nausea. Witnessing twelve dead nuns would do that to a guy. What was it one of his employees had said?

At least it wasn’t thirteen.

He’d barely resisted smashing the guy’s face in but he’d settled for firing his ass instead.

People were dying and being harmed and he could do nothing to stop it. It wasn’t like before. He had money now, yes, but wealth didn’t liberate you from limitations. He was a man who knew a great deal about limitations – knew this one would be impossible. Allowing innocent lives to be destroyed was not as easy as avoiding sunlight or restraining from too much physical contact.

Though God knows those were hard.

But there was nothing he could do – he was bound by contract, restricted by his own foolish decision. And he could do nothing but watch from the wings as everything he’d worked for fell apart around him.

Maybe it was his bad day, maybe it was his foul mood but deep inside he know this chronic melancholy was bigger than that. It was this place and this deal and the reason for it that consistently swam through his mind, never allowing him peace.

He sat on the bed, pulling open the top drawer in the table beside it and retrieving a photograph of a young teenage boy. The boy was smiling, an expression he’d seen on him far too rarely in the time they’d spent together. The boy was happy now, loved and safe, from others and from himself.

He released a heavy sigh, running his fingers over the photograph. Quietly, he slipped it back into the drawer, shutting it. He leaned back on his bed, closing his eyes against the tears that stung behind them.

He was running out of hope.


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