It is barely 6 a.m. when he enters the office carrying a handful of books. Dumping them on the desk, Angel sits down and takes the first one. He opens it at the bookmark and starts reading the passage he already translated back at the Hyperion. It was written by someone who actually studied the Thlekarians over a century ago, and has a description of a ritual in it, which, according to the writer, is the only way of killing them. Funnily enough most of it is in Irish Gaelic, so translating that was no problem, but the part that he really needs, the ritual itself, is not. So he came here, on a hunch. Rummaging through the books Wesley left on the desk, Angel grabs the one with the Thlekarian dictionary in it. He sighs when he finds the right pages. Just what he suspected; the ritual is in Thlekarian. He tears a piece of paper from the notepad and begins to translate it word for word, hoping it will make sense once he is finished.

"I meant what I said, Wes," Angel whispers to an empty office as he muddles his way through it, "You really do make it seem so easy when it's not."

When Gunn arrives roughly two hours later Angel still can't make much sense of the ritual. He understands the part about blood, herbs, and a fire being part of it, and it mentions a spell. But Angel has no idea what kind of herbs these are supposed to be, nor can he make out whether the blood is supposed to be Thlekarian or not.

"So, you find out something about the demon we're looking for?"

"And a good morning to you too, Charles."

"Yeah, yeah, good morning," Gunn says as he looks at a picture of a Thlekarian, "Scary looking guys."

Recalling the sleepy grunts Gunn uttered when he called to warn him not to go to the warehouse again, Angel is surprised that when he brings him up to date on the research, Gunn remembers most of what he told him then.

"And this part that you're trying to translate is what we need to get rid of those Tek ... Thlek ... those demons?"

"I'm not getting any further though. We'll have to wait for Wesley to get here."

"Did you call him?"

Angel shakes his head. He thought about it a couple of times, but decided Wesley could do with the rest.

"No, I didn't want to wake him up, he looked really exhausted when I took him home."

"I'm worried about him," Gunn says and Angel can see the concern in his eyes, "I know his wound needs time to heal, but ... I can't explain it, but I can't help wondering that there is something going on with him. I just wish he'd tell me."

"So you've noticed it too."

Gunn nods and opens his mouth to say something when the door opens and Wesley walks in.

"Wesley!" both men exclaim in unison.

"I thought you'd be sleeping in today," Angel says while exchanging a worried look with Gunn. Wesley still looks exhausted, like he didn't sleep at all and Angel wonders why he won't tell them what is wrong. Picking up one of the books Angel was working with, Wesley mutters something about Thlekarians and Ocvaziou, and about them needing him. And he's right, as always Wesley is right, but Angel wouldn't have minded waiting a couple of hours to let Wesley sleep in. When Wesley asks him what they have been up to, Angel mentions the ritual, explaining the trouble he's having translating it and Wesley perks up at once. He barely seems to hear what Angel is saying, but sits down immediately as Angel offers him his seat and starts reading the ritual. Shrugging his shoulders, Angel sits down next to Gunn, and they both watch how Wesley mumbles comments now and then and makes notes while leafing fervently through the books. And Angel can't help but grin when Gunn finally just shakes his head and whispers: "Give him a book or two, preferably in an unreadable language, and he's the happiest man on earth. Crazy Brit."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Wesley yawns, gratefully accepting the cup of tea Cordelia hands him. He finally managed to finish the translation, the herbs being most difficult to find, but he did it. Leaning back in his chair, he slowly sips his tea, absentmindedly listening to Cordelia telling him how her day went. When she doesn't seem to notice that he isn't really listening to her, Wesley lets his eyes drift to where Angel is sleeping in a chair, his feet resting on another chair. He watches how Angel's chest doesn't rise with every breath he doesn't need, and is mesmerized by the perfect pale colour of his skin and the peaceful expression on his face. Peaceful. He shakes his head as it dawns on him that it seems so strange for the always broody vampire to look so peaceful when he sleeps, and he wonders if Angel realises how innocent he looks right now.

A sudden cough jerks him out of his haze, and he looks up to find Cordelia giving him an annoyed look.

"Sorry?"

Missing something Cordelia asks is never a good idea and he braces himself for an outburst.

"I asked what you think about ordering Chinese? It doesn't look like we're going home soon."

"I would like that, yes," Wesley says relieved, "but don't you want to wait for Gunn to return before you order?"

"If you'd been paying more attention you would have noticed that I just called him on his mobile." Cordelia says, her voice sounding both impatient and a bit irritated.

Not off entirely scot free after all then. Wesley mumbles another apology, but as soon as Cordelia picks up the phone to place the order, his eyes start drifting again. "No!" he chides himself and rips his eyes away from Angel. The nightmares are bad enough, there is no need to make it worse with wishful thinking. He hopes Gunn will come back with the ingredients soon, so he can start the preparations for the ritual and they can go to the warehouse and wait for the Thlekarians. Suddenly a thought hits him and he goes through the passage Angel translated again, hoping there is something in it about how and where the Thlekarians live. There isn't anything substantial in it, but somehow the warehouse seems wrong.

"Cordy? Do you have the address of that warehouse you checked out yesterday?"

"It's around here somewhere. Why?"

"I need to check something. Are you still on speaking terms with that young man from the Building Society?"

Cordelia hands him a piece of paper, a confused expression on her face.

"Yeah, but I'm not dating him."

Shaking his head, Wesley explains to her that he needs the blue-prints of the warehouse to check if there is a basement underneath the building.

"You think that my vision was about those Elves, and not the Thlekarians?"

"Yes. You see, the Thlekarian that attacked Gunn's gang must have been in L.A. for a while to know its way around. If that warehouse really was their lair, then either you would have found something there or you would have been attacked. I just cannot believe that they would wittingly let you snoop around. Not after what Angel told me about them."

"They're ruthless, I know. I'll give him a call and see what I can find out."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Together with Gunn's gang, Angel, Gunn and Cordelia are roaming Gunn's neighbourhood.

"I don't like it."

"Angel, Wesley was right. He isn't fit enough to fight, and the Ocvaziou are peaceful, he should be safe with them. If he finds them there."

Angel sighs. He didn't really want to hear that.

"I know that, Cordelia."

While Wesley was preparing everything for the ritual, they tried to figure out where the Thlekarians would be staying. After finding out that there was a basement under the warehouse, complete with connections to some old maintenance tunnels, Wesley's hunch about the Ocvaziou staying there seemed very plausible. The plan sounded simple enough: go to the warehouse first and warn the Ocvaziou, if that is where they are staying, search the Thlekarians' lair after that and perform the ritual. But they realise only too well that it could also be very dangerous. At least the search for the Thlekarians was partly solved when Cordelia had another vision in which she saw them in the empty apartment building where Gunn's gang was attacked. Knowing that they would need all the manpower they could get, Gunn called the gang, who were more than willing to join in, and all was set. But then all of a sudden Wesley told them that he wasn't going with them, that he would go to the warehouse on his own. Angel fiercely tried to convince him not to do it, but all his arguments were simply overruled by Wesley's reasoning, and like Cordelia said; he was right. His efforts were rewarded with some strange looks from Gunn and Cordelia, but he wasn't about to tell them why he was so set against the idea of Wesley going there alone, so he just ignored them. But the expression Wesley gave him was something completely different. Angel doesn't know how to describe what he saw in Wesley's eyes, but they seemed to beam, to sparkle, sending shivers down his spine that felt so good. It was the closest thing to a smile that Wesley could have given him, and he knows he will remember it for a long time.

"Angel? We're getting close."

Gunn's voice pulls him out of his thoughts and back to the task at hand.

The sooner they vanquish the Thlekarians, the sooner he can go looking for Wesley.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Something inside Wesley snapped when Angel started to protest. He has no idea how he was able to stand his ground against Angel's arguments, but he did somehow and it made him feel strong and confident ... and protected. Angel's behaviour made him feel protected, made him feel like he cared and it made him forget his nightmares, even if just for a minute.

Now that he is actually entering the warehouse, Wesley doesn't feel all that strong and confident anymore. While his eyes roam around in the empty warehouse, he straightens his shoulders and takes a deep breath before unfolding the blue-prints. Standing in the middle of the building, he studies the walls intensely, comparing them with the drawing, looking for the entrance to the basement. That's strange, the door still seems to be there. Wesley walks towards the door and tries to open it, it's unlocked.

No stairs! There are no stairs leading down. Turning around he checks the other side of the small hallway, making sure he isn't reading the map upside down. Nothing there either. They couldn't have moved the entire staircase, could they?

As he turns around again he suddenly senses a slight tingle at the back of his neck. Magic! The staircase didn't disappear, they hid it with magic. He scuffles forward, carefully, bracing his hands in front of him to catch himself in case he misses a step. A feeling of victory passes over him when he finds the first step down, and his confidence returns as he descends. An odd pinkish mist surrounds him as he reaches the end of the stairs. He can't see through it, but he doesn't know whether it's because of the mist or the darkness.

A strange high-pitched whistling sound makes him turn around and he starts as he finds himself face to face with an Ocvaziou.

"Good evening. My name is Wesley Wyndham-Pryce and I would like to speak to ... err ... the head of your tribe, if that is possible."

He holds out his hand to the small, frail looking Elf, letting it fall when the Elf doesn't react.

"I came to warn your people about some dangerous demons called Thlekarians, they ..."

Suddenly the Elf's glowing eyes become brighter while his hands make a circular movement, and Wesley feels himself falling, and falling ... falling ... falling ...

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Something's wrong!

Wesley opens his eyes and tries to sit up, but something is wrong.

Why can't he move?

"Good, you're awake. I was getting a bit bored watching you sleep."

The voice sounds harsh and cold and Wesley shuts his eyes again, tight. He doesn't want to see.

"Oh, come on, Wesley. It was fun while it lasted, but now it's time for some real fun."

Something cold is scraping his thigh, but Wesley still keeps his eyes shut.

"Open your eyes, Wesley, look at him, he will set you free," a soft voice echoes through his head.

"No, no, no, no," he chants to himself, "this isn't real, this can't be real."

"Tsk, tsk, tsk, Wesley. You didn't really think nothing would happen, did you? Were you really so in heat that you simply forgot about that pesky little curse? You did, you forgot, didn't you?"

"No, he ... I ... he doesn't ..."

"Doesn't what, Wesley? Doesn't love you? Of course he does."

Wesley's heart skips a beat, and he fights to keep his eyes closed. He can't bear to look at him, can't bear to see what he did. Tears well up as thoughts and images of Angel kissing him, undressing him, touching him, whispering sweet words to him, surface and linger in his mind. Desperately he tries to hold on to them, tries to block out everything else, and all through this he keeps repeating the same thing: "I'm sorry, Angel. I'm so sorry."

"Open your eyes, Wesley, face your fears, it will set you free, " the voice echoes again.

All of a sudden a sharp pain rips through his body and he cries out, Angelus' raucous laughter ringing in his ears.

"Open your eyes, Wesley."

As soon as the pain seems to ebb away, it is followed by another, and another, and another, and Wesley bites his lip, trying not to cry out again.

"Face your fear, Wesley."

The smell of his own blood fills the room. He feels bile rising in his throat, and he wonders how long he will be able to take this before passing out.

"It will set you free."

When the pain finally stops, his whole body tenses up, waiting in terror for what might be next.

"He thought you were sweet. And ... mmm ... you are ... so sweet."

A hand grabs his chin, moving his head sideways, baring his neck, and Wesley struggles to get free from this invisible bond holding him still, but his body doesn't seem to understand what he wants.

"Don't worry, Wesley, I'm not turning you ... or maybe I will, but not before I've had some fun first."

Wesley feels the fangs scrape his neck, break the skin, sinking deeper and deeper into him, and when the pain finally becomes too much ... he screams.

"NOOOOOOO!"

His eyes fly open and at the same time he succeeds in breaking the bonds that hold him. Even though his body is still not completely reacting as normal, he manages to grab Angelus' head and tear him away from his neck, pushing him off the bed.

"This is not happening. You are not real!" he screams as he struggles to get up.

When he finally manages to get off the bed, he stumbles over to Angelus who is standing in front of the window, watching him with an evil grin on his face. He puts one hand against Angelus' chest, shaking with fear, but feeling strangely free, wondering if this is what it means to stare Death in the face. Just as he moves to push Angelus the images around him dissolve into a pinkish mist, and his whole body convulses as he falls backwards into the dark ...

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

While Gunn's gang quietly sneak around the apartment building to seal all exits, Gunn, Cordelia and Angel take out the ingredients for the ritual. Angel watches as Gunn places a bowl in the middle of the pentagram Cordelia has drawn and intonates the words Wesley taught him. Cordelia carefully unwraps the herbs and cuts them up above the bowl while chanting the accompanying lines. Both Angel and Gunn's voices mix with hers as all three of them squat down around the bowl, inside the pentagram. Angel takes a small knife, cuts his wrist and allows a few drops of his blood to mix with the herbs, repeating it with Gunn and Cordelia who hold out their wrists. He wipes the knife clean with a cloth and places it outside the pentagram. With this done his hands reach out for the other two to form a closed circle, and their voices become louder and louder as they finish the rest of the spell, repeating the last 2 lines over and over again in a very steady rhythm. Out of the corner of his eyes Angel spots some movement behind one of the windows. His senses tell him that it isn't a human, but he can't see the figure clearly enough to tell whether it is a Thlekarian or not. A huge claw that comes crashing through the window answers his question, it definitely is a Thlekarian. Angel feels how Cordelia reacts to the sound of the breaking glass, and he looks at her, relieved to see that she is till chanting and trying not to let it break her concentration. While he keeps his eyes on the claw that wildly tugs at the bars in front of the window, he softly squeezes Cordelia's hand to let her know she's doing fine.

Suddenly a bright white ball forms in the bowl and slowly rises above them. Angel's eyes follow the energy ball as it grows and moves towards the broken window, no ... through the window and straight through the Thlekarian, vanishing further inside. He sees the Thlekarian stumble backwards from the sheer force of the ball and disappearing from his view as the body sags down in slow motion, without even a single sound. Shaking his head to lose the image, he keeps on chanting, wondering how long this will take, when out of the blue an agonizing screeching sound reaches his ears. It takes all of his willpower to keep chanting and try and ignore the pain in his ears. When he notices the blank expressions on Gunn and Cordelia's faces he realises that he is the only one hearing it, compliments of his vampiric hearing, no doubt. But he is glad that at least their ears are protected from this. When the sounds finally die down, Angel somehow immediately knows that this is the end of it and he stops chanting. Still one more thing to do. He grabs the bowl and pushes himself to his feet, and helps Cordelia, while Gunn gets up on his own. All three of them grab a bit of the herb mixture and smear it on either side of the wall next to the entrance. When they are finished they step back, holding out their dirty hands, fingers spread and once again they start chanting, but softly this time. Angel flinches when only inches from his hand a small fire starts to crawl up the sides of the building, eating it's way inside. He quickly steps back as soon as the spell is finished, and he motions Cordelia and Gunn to follow him. He really doesn't want to be around when the building starts to collapse. Hearing Gunn calling out to the gang he turns around, and when Gunn lets him know they are all accounted for he puts his arm around Cordelia, who is shaking on her legs, and starts walking away from the burning building. He too feels a little unstable, but it doesn't bother him.

Next stop ... Wesley.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Gasping for breath, Wesley opens his eyes and finds himself lying on a bed of some kind with an Ocvaziou, probably the same one, standing at the end of it.

"What happened?" he asks, still trembling from the nightmare, "Was it you who spoke to me? What does it mean?"

Wesley is desperate for answers but the Elf just shakes his head and motions him to follow. Feeling a bit shaky, Wesley gets off the bed, muttering a curse when a familiar sharp pain hits him and he can't find his cane. Struggling to keep up with the Elf, he follows it from one dark room to another, until they end up in a small damp cave. The only things Wesley can see are the green glowing eyes of the Elf, and the pinkish mist that seems to be everywhere around him.

"Why am I here? I need to ..." he asks, but a stern gesture from the Elf stops him.

The Ocvaziou motions him to sit down. Shrugging his shoulders Wesley does as he is told, wondering about the Ocvaziou's so-called peaceful nature.

Suddenly the pinkish mist in front of him fades, and an almost empty beach appears on the wall, while the sounds of rolling waves fill the cave. Wesley watches in awe as the image becomes clearer and clearer, if he didn't know better he'd swear he was on that beach. The sounds of barking surrounds Wesley as two dogs run into the water, splashing around until a sharp whistle causes the dogs to look up and get out of the water again. A man approaches them from the right and pets them before showing them a ball he had hidden behind his back and then throwing it. As the dogs run off after the ball the man turns and Wesley's mouth drops open, stunned, as he looks into his own face. Dressed in shorts and a white T-shirt he looks older, about five to ten years older maybe, but it is definitely him and he can barely believe it. His future! They are showing him his future. Turning around he wants to ask the Ocvaziou something, but the Elf holds a finger to hislips while pointing at the image with his other hand and Wesley could swear that he is smiling. He looks at the image again, watching the dogs coming back with the ball and dropping it in front of him.

"Good boys," his older self says as he pets the dogs again.

Suddenly another whistle sounds and both the dogs and his older self look up, apparently recognizing it. A second man walks towards them, coming from the left, but Wesley can't see who it is, or can he? The way the man walks seems familiar, but at the same time it doesn't. The same thing goes for the man's appearance as he gets closer, but Wesley just can't figure out who it is. The dogs run towards the second man, who crouches down and takes his time petting and cuddling the zealous dogs.

"Hello, boys," the man greets them.

The voice sends tiny electrical pulses down his spine, and slowly, very slowly something dawns on Wesley.

No. No, it couldn't be. It ... it is impossible.

His eyes are glued to the man, who is still cuddling the dogs and softly talking to them. He sees his older self whistle and throw the ball again, as far away as he can, as if to make sure the dogs will stay away for a bit. The dogs immediately abandon the men, running after the ball, barking happily. Grinning, his older self helps the other man up.

"They missed you," he says as he wraps his arms around him, "almost as much as I did."

"Oh my God!" Wesley whispers as his hands clutch at the rocks next to him and his eyes widen in surprise.

He can barely believe what he's hearing. Years from now he will be standing on the beach hugging another man. A man? His lover? Him! But it can't be him, can it?

A moan escapes him as he witnesses the passionate kiss enfolding before him. His mind must be playing tricks on him. This is his future? Can this really be his future?

He pinches himself, hard, needing to make sure he isn't just dreaming again.

"Ouch!"

No, not dreaming.

He scrambles to his feet and steps closer to the image, glancing sideways to the Ocvaziou to check if he is allowed to. The Elf grins at him, but doesn't move, and Wesley takes another step.

As if on cue both men turn slightly, offering Wesley a chance to take a closer look at ... him!

His heart stops a beat as he takes in the beauty before him. The sparkling brown eyes, the sunlit spiky hair, also brown, and the beautiful tanned skin ... Tanned skin?

Everything all of a sudden seems so clear, and he takes another step closer, and another, until he can touch him. But the image immediately dissolves as his hand reaches out.

"No!" he shouts turning towards the Ocvaziou, "Don't ... please ... just let me have one more look, just one."

But the Elf shakes his head and motions him to leave the cave.

Reluctantly Wesley follows the Elf again, the meaning of what he just saw slowly sinking in, and by the time they reach the stairs Wesley is smiling. No ... not just smiling, he is absolutely, completely and utterly radiating. He starts climbing the stairs, but freezes as the Ocvaziou lays a hand on his shoulder.

"Open your eyes, Wesley Wyndham-Pryce, and face your fears. It will set you free, and the Powers that Be will reward you."

When he doesn't see the Elf's lips moving, he realises the voice comes from within him, and he now knows that it indeed was the Elf who was talking to him in his dream. He puts his hand on top of the Elf's, mumbling: "Thank you. Thank you so much. I will be eternally indebted to you for showing me this. Thank you."

Again the Elf shakes his head, the voice echoing clearly in his head.

"You have earned this glimpse into your future by defeating your worst nightmare. But beware! You still have a long hard road before you. And you can never tell anyone what you saw, we cannot insure your future if you do."

Wesley nods, it seems like only a small price to pay for what they have given him. He continues to climb the stairs, but stops halfway, suddenly remembering why he was here in the first place. He opens his mouth as the Ocvaziou holds his hand out to silence him.

"We know, and we are grateful. You and your friends have saved our kind, and we will reward that."

"We don't expect something ..."

"Yes, we know."

The Elf smiles and snaps his fingers, causing a tingling feeling to run up his right hand, a small box appearing as Wesley opens it.

"Give this to your Angel, he will understand what it means when he opens the box. Now go! Someone is waiting for you outside."

And with this the Elf turns around and disappears into the pinkish mist, leaving Wesley standing on the stairs in a haze. When he finally snaps out of it, he turns, holding the box as if it was his most prized possession, and without looking back even once, he climbs the rest of the stairs, practically runs through the warehouse, and goes outside into the night. Leaning back against the wall, he tries to catch his breath, ignoring his pain, as his mind replays everything that has just happened to him in slow motion. He notices a slight movement out of the corner of his eyes, and smiling he turns his head, not surprised to find Angel standing there. He is stunned however by the expression in Angel's eyes; the normally "so good at masking my feelings" vampire is not even trying to hide the worry in his eyes.

"Are you alright?" they ask each other simultaneously.

Wesley is relieved to see a flicker of a smile appear across Angel's lips and he holds his hand out, displaying the little box.

"Yes, I am alright, thank you. They gave me this to give to you for saving their kind from the Thlekarians, which I presume went well, seeing as you are standing here unscathed. Where are Charles and Cordelia?"

"It went well. The building went up in flames, no one but the Thlekarians got hurt, and Gunn is taking Cordelia home," Angel replies, a stunned look on his face as he accepts the box. But instead of opening it, he puts it in his coat pocket, "I think there is something going on with those two."

Wesley's smile broadens at that remark, but he is curious as to why Angel doesn't open the box.

"Yes, well, it was only a matter of time ... Angel? Aren't you going to open it?"

"No," Angel says as he takes Wesley's hand in his, "I've got more important things to do right now, plenty of time to look at it later."

As his hand relaxes into the touch, Wesley can't help wondering how a gesture that only a few hours ago would have sent him running feels like it is supposed to be this way.

Silently they walk down the street to where Angel parked his car, hands firmly wrapped together, a smile showing on both their faces.

"So, did you find out what it is they hunt?"

"No, err, I guess I got a little distracted," Wesley says as an image of two men kissing each other on the beach unfolds in his mind.

THE END