*****
Part 1: Preperation, Anticipation, Trepidation

"Breath in, hold, now release. Good," Oz said, his voice soft and steady. He walked around Wesley in a slow circle, his pale grey eyes focused intently on the sorcerer. "Find a calm, quiet place within you and stay. Feel yourself relax and sink into that place. Nothing exists except the calm, the quiet, the peace. There is nothing outside, nothing around, nothing to distract you. Just breath and feel." The Oracle was silent, breathing in time with Wesley, chest rising and falling with slow, deep breaths. "Are you there?"

"Yes." Wesley nodded his head a fraction. His face was mostly lax, although there were creases around his eyes from concentrating, and his voice was steady, but strong.

"Feel any last remnant of tension, any worry, any thought slip from your body until you are empty. When you are perfectly at peace and centred, open your mind and body to the world around you. Feel its energy pulse through, filling you, passing through you, energizing you."

Wesley took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. The last touches of tension rolled off of his body and his consciousness moved further inward.

The Oracle felt the first stirring of power begin to swirl around the room. The energy moved from all around to a concentrated circle around Wesley; it lapped around Oz's senses, just barely, very lightly, like playing at the edge of the sun that enters through an open door in early spring. The air around you is cool and comfortable, but that one patch of sun is warm and full, it speaks of much more: of summer and happiness and contentment.

Oz wondered that if he weren't connected with The Powers That Be, would he be able to feel even the slight bit of power that he felt now. He'd never been able to feel anything when Willow did a spell, but this was different. She had to have a spell to do any type of magic; all Wesley needed was himself.

When they had realized that Wesley's inexplicable illness was due to his being able to sense demons, Oz took that as a sign that the sorcerer's powers had finally returned. Theoretically, a sorcerer was always powerful and could do magic at any time; unfortunately, Wesley had denied his power for years, allowing it to build up, but only using it rarely, and then only for conventional magic. When he finally was forced to draw on his inner power a few years before to destroy Wolfram and Hart, he had used all the power he'd ever stored and exhausted himself badly. Consequently, he had been unable to do even the most elementary spells since; now, however, his powers were returning.

Oz had argued to the Powers that he didn't know enough about magic to train Wesley, but had been told when the time came, he'd know what to say and what to do. Indeed, he could feel the PTB speaking into him and through him; he didn't like the sensation. In his past life, before becoming an Oracle, Oz had liked to know where his thoughts came from. Sometimes being linked into the eternal consciousness scared him. He felt used, as if he were only good for his corporal form, a vessel and nothing more. Still, they were at war, so he would do what he had to.

"Very good," Oz remarked. "Can you feel that?"

"Yes. It's filling me." Wesley's voice was slightly higher than normal.

"Deep breath, remain calm," soothed the Oracle. "As hokey as it sounds, Yoda was right; emotions will only disrupt your power."

"Are you suggesting I suppress my emotions? Lindsey will love that." His voice was sardonic, but the air around him calmer than a moment before.

Oz smiled. "Emotions as a rule are fine, it's when you are afraid of your own powers that trouble starts. Don't be afraid of yourself or your abilities."

"They're just so strong. I don't want them to overwhelm me."

"As long as you remain unafraid and in control, they won't."

"What if . . ."

"No what ifs. You will keep control of your powers because you must. There is no other way."

Wesley quirked a smile. "'Do or do not, there is no try,'" he quoted.

"I knew you were a closet "Star Wars" fan."

"The action figures on my dresser gave it away, I'm sure." Wesley took another deep breath; more power swirled around him, lightening the air noticeably.

"Can you feel anything or anyone?" Oz questioned.

Wesley's brow tensed slightly as he focused. "Angel's upstairs, in his room. He's moving around."

"Anything else?"

"I can tell there are people in the lobby or office, but I can't tell who or how many. They're like... like one warm clump, whereas Angel is a single, cool, solitary figure. He feels much different from the others." The sorcerer's face became a mask of wonder and concentration. "I can feel his soul."

"Really?" Oz was interested.

"Yes. It's like a small power source, warm and full, anchored inside his coolness. I would love to see what a normal vampire feels like." Wesley turned his head, his face looking at Oz, although his eyes were still closed. "You feel different, too. Not like Angel, but not like the others."

Oz didn't know how to respond. After being turned into and Oracle, he hadn't asked if he were human or something else. It hadn't seemed important at the time; he either was human or wasn't and nothing he did would change that. He had a duty and a calling.

He'd never even wondered until Graham had asked if he could die. Since then, Oz had been attacked, so he assumed he could be killed. But die... he wasn't sure. He didn't much like the idea of Graham growing old while Oz remained eternally young, but he didn't like the idea of letting Graham go and find someone else to spend his life with. His lover claimed it didn't matter; he would stay with Oz no matter what. But still, Oz wondered what he was.

And now, perhaps Wesley could tell him. But asking would lead to knowing and knowing might lead to complications. He didn't know what to do.

Instead of asking, he said, "Why don't you see if you can manipulate anything with your power. Lift something." In his sudden inner turmoil, Oz had lost his usual eloquence.

Wesley had opened his eyes and was gazing speculatively at Oz. His eyes were glowing with power. They looked more silver than blue now. For a moment, Oz thought the sorcerer had read his mind and was going to say something; instead, he turned away, concentrating his gaze on a ceremonial axe resting on the wall.

The air around the axe began to glow. It lifted slightly, then settled back onto the pegs. Wesley exhaled and raised his arm. He focused his power down through his extended arm, into his hand, and beyond.

Oz could just barely make out the thread of energy between Wesley and the axe. The axe twitched, then rose. For a moment it hung in the air, shaking. Oz held his breath. Wesley closed his eyes, took a deep breath and let it go, the power around him abruptly coming into sharp focus.

The axe moved across the room, Wesley manipulating it slowly in a pattern of moves, making it dance.

"Come in, Angel," the sorcerer suddenly said, eyes trained on the axe.

The vampire opened the door and stepped inside. "I didn't mean to interrupt; I was just..."

"Listening through the door?' Wesley finished for him.

"Something like that," answered Angel, eyes focused on the axe. "How's it going?"

Oz stepped closer to Angel. "It's going well. He's doing better than the Powers expected."

Wesley brought the axe closer to Angel. "I think this skill could be useful. A never-ending supply of weapons, floating to you during a fight."

Angel grinned and reached out to take the axe. His fingers curled around the my handle before he jerked back. "It's hot," he told Wesley, cradling his hand.

"Sorry." Wesley floated the axe away, back to its place. "I guess I didn't exactly regulate my power correctly."

"You'll learn," Oz told him.

Wesley's concentration turned inward suddenly. "Someone is coming towards the building."

"Can you tell who?" asked Angel.

Wesley shook his head. "No. They're human, though - well, most of them are. Perhaps the Sunnydale group has arrived."

Oz checked his watch. "We can stop for today, and pick up tomorrow."

"Very well. What do I do?" Wesley looked at his teacher expectantly.

"You need to keep yourself open, keep allowing new power to fill you while allowing the older to leave. You want to have energy constantly running through your body and source. Since you've always tended to store the power, it's going to take some time to get it perfect." He smiled. "Your eyes are probably going to glow on and off for awhile. You should be able to gauge how much energy you've go in you; if you build up too much, play your flute, manipulate things, do something magical to get rid of it; don't have sex."

"Why not?"

"If you've a lot of power saved and you have an orgasm, you could blow the roof. Any time you lose control, you have the potential to do something destructive with your power. You can have sex, just make sure you're at an equilibrium."

"Very well." Wesley closed his eyes. "They are here, Angel."

"Angel!" Cordelia shouted from the lobby. "Sunnydale is here!"

Angel closed his eyes, visibly trying not to shout back. "Because it's too hard for her just to walk the, what? fifty steps across the lobby to get me? Or send someone over? No, she *has* to shout."

Wesley smiled. "She wouldn't be Cordelia if she acted any other way."

"Trust me, sometimes I wish..." Angel opened his eyes and smiled ruefully. "I won't finish that though."

"Good."

The door opened and Xander stuck his head in. "Hey, Deadboy. Buffy and the rest are here."

"Yeah, I know; Cordelia just yelled it at me. Weren't you just out there with her? Or did you run away?" The vampire reached out, taking the author's hand in his.

"I did not run away," Xander protested with mock indignation. "I had gone upstairs to find you and when I was coming back down, I saw their car pull up outside. So I quickly snuck down the back way so no one would see me. There's a distinct difference."

"You'd think you were afraid of something, Xan. Like, oh, not telling Willow about you and Angel the last time you talked to her," said Oz.

Xander shot the Oracle a dirty look as Angel froze. "Thanks Oz. I'll have to repay you later."

"You didn't tell them?" said Angel softly.

Wesley looked at Oz. "Let's go." The two men quickly left.

Angel was glaring at Xander's head. The author was studying his shoes intently.

"I thought you said you were going to tell them."

"That's because I did say that, or something to that affect. But somehow, coming out to your best friend *and* telling her you're in love with someone that, in the past, you claimed to hate over the phone just seemed tacky."

"She would have gotten over it."

Xander looked up. "I didn't know how to say it. Besides, you talked to Giles; I doubt you said anything to him." His eyes were both accusing and fearful.

Angel sighed. "No, I didn't; it just didn't come up."

"Well, it didn't with me and Will either. I just... I- I was afraid."

"Of what?"

Xander looked down and tried to pull away. "Buffy," he mumbled.

The vampire tightened his grip. "You're afraid of Buffy? Or� are you afraid that you're going to lose me now that she's in town?"

The young author refused to look at his lover.

"Xander." Angel put his finger under Xander's chin, forcing him to look up. "I'm not going to leave you. I love you."

"But you and Buffy... you're, I don't know, soul mates. And with this war and death coming, I thought maybe� maybe you'd want to be with her, you know, while you still can."

"I want to be with you while I still can. Don't you get that? Everyone else does, that's why they tried so hard to get us together." Angel pulled Xander to him, cradling him against his chest. The vampire rested his cheek in the mortal's soft hair. "I will always love Buffy, but our time is over. It was never... We thought it was more than it was. The pain and the situation, the whole tragedy of it all made our love seem so very important. I hadn't been with anyone for almost a hundred years then and I had never been in love, not like that. So I thought... and she thought the same thing because she was so young. But it wasn't real, not like this is." He ran his hand down Xander's back, trailing kisses down his head, over his cheek towards his lips. "This is real. This is where I want to be, you are who I want to be with. What did you write? 'All I've ever wanted'? You know me so well and you wrote what was in my heart even when you didn't know it was there."

Xander turned his head and brushed Angel's lips with his. "I was writing what I felt. That was my heart talking."

Angel deepened this kiss, probing Xander's familiar mouth, exploring it as if it were the first time. Every time with Xander was a new experience, exciting yet comfortable at the same time. "You're aren't going to lose me," he said softly, hugging the mortal tightly. "I won't let her do or say anything to hurt you. I won't forget you, I won't hurt you, I won't leave you. I love you."

The mortal's skin was flushed pink, his mouth hungry and needy, searching. "I love you too," he whispered into Angel's neck. His lips travelled back up, finding Angel's mouth. Kissing him passionately, he whispered again into his lover's lips, "I love you too."

*****
Part 2: Sunnydale in L.A.

"Oz!" Willow shrieked. She dropped her suitcase and Tara's hand, sprinting across the lobby. When she got to Oz, she didn't stop, just flung her arms around him, almost knocking him over. "It's so good to see you, Oz."

"Hey, Willow," he said softly, wrapping his arms around her.

Wesley stepped away, letting them have their moment. He looked across the lobby to where Graham was; the ex-solider was looking at the two, but didn't seem worried. Not that he should; Willow was happily married to Tara and Oz was completely in love with Graham. Still, it couldn't be the easiest thing to watch, knowing what Oz and Willow had meant to each other.

"Hello, Wesley," Rupert Giles greeted, entering the lobby with two duffel bags.

"Hello, um, Mr. Giles." Wesley walked over to help him with one of the bags.

"Please, call me either Giles or Rupert. No need for formality." His blue eyes searched Wesley's face as if he were expecting Wesley to be upset or angry.

The sorcerer smiled, feeling relieved. "Thank you, Rupert. How have you been?"

"Good, thank you. The magic shop's been keeping me busy; business has been thriving recently. Have you noticed how much demonic activity has risen lately?"

"No, it's slipped our notice," Cordelia said wryly, passing him. She was carrying another suitcase. "How many of these things did you guys bring, anyway?"

"I believe Buffy brought five," was Giles's flat answer.

"Jeez, how long is she planning to stay?"

"She said she needed to be prepared."

Wesley glanced around nervously. Oz, Tara, and Willow were all talking animatedly, or as animatedly as Oz ever got. Graham was taking the suitcase people were dropping and pulling them off to one side. There was a sort of energy floating around that was making Wesley feel odd.

"Where's Buffy?" he asked.

"She pulled the car around to the garage so Spike could get out. It's still a bit light out."

"Ah, Spike. I forgot he would be coming."

Giles rolled his eyes. "It's hard to get them apart. All they do is bicker with each other, well that and..." he trailed off meaningfully.

"I understand."

"Right. But they're inseparable. They fight, they flirt."

"They fuck," Cordelia put in.

"Thank you, Cordelia. I was hoping to get through this without using that word, but... never mind." He glanced around. "Where's Angel?"

"He's coming. He and Xander are talking," answered Wesley.

"Wesley, you haven't met Tara yet, have you?" Willow asked, walking up with the blond witch.

"No, I haven't. Nice to meet you, Tara."

"You too. Willow's told me a bit about you."

"Ah, well-"

"Oh, no. It's good. Really." Blushing, she stuck her hand out.

Wesley took it. Something passed between them, sharp and powerful, like a current. They both gasped, eyes wide, staring at each other.

"What is it?" Willow said, concern etched on her face.

Both shook their heads, dropping hands. "Nothing," Tara assured, slipping her arm around her wife. "It was... it was nothing."

"Right." Wesley wasn't quite sure what had happened, nor was her sure why Tara was denying something had happened, but he was willing to go with it for the moment. He was feeling quite unsettled now.

"Wesley, why are your eyes glowing?" questioned Willow.

He looked at her, feeling as if here were seeing her for the first time. "Well..."

"Hi everyone," Xander's voice suddenly called out.

Willow spun. "Xander!" She ran over to see him, Giles following at a more sedate pace.

Xander pulled his hand away from Angel's so he could hug his best friend. "Hey, Wills, how ya doing? God, it's been what, almost two years?"

"Something like that," she replied hugging him tightly.

"Xander. It's good to see you again. We've missed you."

"Thanks, Giles." Xander pulled away. "I'm glad you all came."

"Yes, well, Angel was quite insistent, although he wouldn't give details." He looked up at the vampire. "Will you tell us now?"

"I'd prefer everyone was here first. I'm not trying to be difficult, it's just... My prophet is missing and I don't see Buffy either."

"Prophet?"

"Oh, well, Lindsey. He's... he's Wesley's."

"God, who'd want Wesley?" a voice suddenly said from the door leading up from the garage.

Everyone turned. Wesley felt a sick lump develop in his stomach as he gazed at Buffy Summers for the first time in years.

Her arm was around Spikes waist, a smug smile on her lips. Hazel eyes were locked on Angel. She still was petite and small; her tight, body hugging shirt and jeans emphasized her small frame, but no one, least of all Wesley, would mistake the power she held. It flowed off her in waves.

"Hey Angel," she said softly.

"Buffy," he answered, his voice guarded.

Wesley saw Xander stiffened slightly next to the vampire. Angel put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it gently.

Buffy and Spike walked further into the room. She barely glanced at Wesley. "Hey; I see he still keeps you around. And you've got an Initiative guy here; good for battle. Oz, good to see you. And Xander. Wow. Long time no see. How've you been?"

"Good, thanks Buffy."

"Angel rescue you or something? I thought you were giving up demon hunting."

"Not exactly. We bumped into each other and... we're friends."

Buffy laughed. "You two are friends? Wow, I didn't know hell froze over."

"Buffy," Willow said. "I think it's great. Xander's grown up enough to see Angel's a good person." Her tone indicated that she felt others hadn't grown up at all.

The slayer glanced over at Willow. "Of course I think it's great, I'm just surprised, that's all. After all, he was always to anti-Angel and here he is, friends. I never thought it would happen."

"Peaches if full of surprises, isn't he?" muttered Spike, eyeing Angel and Xander. Wesley could tell he'd figured it out.

"What's that mean?" asked Buffy.

"Look at them, ducks; they ain't just friends, if you catch my drift."

The energy level in the room shot up as the Sunnydale crew caught on. Wesley gasped slightly as it flowed over him; he concentrated on trying to control it as the commotion began.

"What!" Buffy shrieked. "What does he mean, Angel?"

"We're lovers, Buffy. I love Xander."

"But� but... What about your curse? I mean, when I heard you were with Wesley, I could at least understand that. I mean, he doesn't exactly have perfect happiness written all over him."

"Buffy!" Giles exclaimed.

"What? It's true?" Waves of anger and derision rolled off her crashing into Wesley as, for a moment, she directed her attention at him. "Look at him. But Xander; you can really love him. Angel, what if you lose your soul?"

"I won't lose my soul. It's been taken care of."

"Then why didn't you come back to me?"

"Hey," Spike protested.

She turned angry eyes at him. "Shut up. I want to know."

"Buffy-" Willow started.

"What? Just because..."

Wesley lost train of the argument as, it seemed, the entire room started yelling. It was too much; he had been too open from his exercises with Oz and now the power in the room kept growing until it was overwhelming. He backed into a wall, breathing deeply, trying to expel as much energy out as was going in, trying to cut off the flow in the first place, but he couldn't. All he could hear was Buffy's contempt aimed at him. Who'd love him? Who could he make happy? What could he do? He was never able to make her listen to him, get any kind of control. And now he wasn't powerful enough to keep from getting overwhelmed. He was useless.

"Are you all right?" a soft voice asked next to him.

Wesley opened his eyes. Tara had left the group and was staring at him, concerned.

He shook his head. "It's too much," he gasped.

She nodded. "I know. Let's get you away from them. Outside, okay?" She reached out.

He was about to take her hand when Lindsey walked in.

"Guys!" he said, trying to project his voice over the din. No one listened. Wesley could tell his lover had something urgent to tell them.

Lindsey suddenly let out a piercing whistle. The noise stopped as everyone turned to look at him.

"Thank you. I have something to say," the Prophet said.

"What is it, Lin?" said Angel.

"Faith's up for parole."

A strong burst of power exploded from Wesley as he lost control. It knocked Tara and Lindsey off their feet, staggering everyone else.

Suddenly all eyes were on Wesley.

Mortified, his face hot, tears threatening, Wesley managed to say, "Sorry," before fleeing the room.

There was a long silence as everyone glanced around, making sure they were all right. They adjusted their clothes and felt their footing, making sure the world around them was once again stable.

Lindsey rose and helped Tara to her feet.

"What just happened?"

"The energy in the room," the blond witch answered, standing beside him. "It was too much for him. Everyone was so excited... he couldn't block it all out. And he was upset."

"About what?" Lindsey asked, although he knew what the catalyst had been.

"Faith," Angel answered. Then he glanced over at Buffy. "Buffy."

The Slayer gave a nervous laugh. "What did I do?"

"You didn't even put up a pretence of politeness," Giles told her sternly. "You were barely in the room before you started attacking him."

"They were jokes, not attacks. I was kidding."

"No you weren't, Buffy," said Xander. His voice indicated that he was unhappy with her.

Buffy glanced over at Spike; her vampire lover shrugged, not giving her any help.

Her face turned red. "God, I say, what, two things meant to be amusing, and he attacks us? And I'm the bad guy here? Give me a break. He's uptight and stuffy, and arrogant as all hell. You're all defending him. He just knocked Tara and what's his name over, and you're angry at me?"

"He didn't mean to. He lost control," said Tara.

"Whatever. He needs to lighten up. I was making jokes."

"Well, your jokes were in very poor taste," Giles shot at her. "He is our ally and Angel's friend-"

"Family," the vampire interrupted. "He's my family."

"Yes, of course, I'm sorry. He's Angel's family and your jokes were of such a nature they could be considered malicious attacks. No matter what your personal feelings are, I expect you to be adult enough to be able to work with him."

"Work with him doing what? We don't even know why we're here; Angel called us down, and here were are, like good little servants, taking time out of our lives. I want to know what's going on, but here I am, getting yelled at for hurting the feelings of poor wittle Wesley." Her voice was bitingly sarcastic.

Lindsey walked very slowly up to Buffy, his eyes dark and fists clenched. "Hi. I'm Lindsey, Wesley's fianc�e; I don't believe we've met. Let me tell you a few things about my family here. I am a Prophet for the Powers that Be; I am also deeply, madly, and truly in love with Wesley. He is a very powerful sorcerer; two years ago, he saved not only my life, but Angel's and probably a whole hell of a lot of other peoples' lives as well. Doing so, he exhausted himself so badly, he hasn't been able to do any magic for almost two years. Now he can. If you, in any way, hurt him so he stops doing magic, I swear I will-"

"Lindsey," Angel said warningly. He came up behind the lawyer, clearly showing his support was with Lindsey. "No threats, not like that. But he's right, Buffy. You will be nothing but unfailingly polite and respectful to him the entire time you are here."

Her hazel eyes were angry and hard. "Are you threatening me?"

"Maybe."

She stepped forward, her fists clenched, ready to attack.

Oz slipped in between Buffy and her antagonists. "That's enough. Angel, get out and cool off. Lindsey, go find Wesley, make sure he's okay. Now!"

With one last glare, the vampire and the lawyer followed Oz's directions.

As Lindsey ran up the main stairs, he heard Oz directing everyone to find a room. Graham volunteered the information that dinner would be ready for everyone in about an hour, plenty of time to get settled and cool off, before meeting and planning their war.

The voices faded as Lindsey continued up the stairs. He ran through his home with single minded determination, concern for his lover over riding everything else.

"Wesley?" Lindsey called, emerging on the roof.

As he expected, Wesley there. The roof was the Watcher's favorite place, his place of comfort. He claimed it was easier to think up there, nearer the sky, away from the eternal presence of the people and demons down below. On the roof, he could just be.

He was sitting on one of the lounges Angel had bought years ago, staring out at the sunset. His body was stiff, arms wrapped around himself, and he was rocking slightly. A breeze was ruffling his hair. He didn't turn when Lindsey called his name.

Lindsey sat next to his lover. "Hey baby. You okay?"

Wesley shook his head. "I'm so embarrassed. Is everyone all right?"

"Yeah, yeah. That blond girl was impressed, I think. Everyone else is fine." He put his arm tentatively around him. "Don't be embarrassed."

"How can I not? What can they possibly be thinking about me? Can they understand that I didn't... I didn't mean it? And that's the worse thing: I can't even control myself. God, she must think I'm a fool." He leaned into Lindsey, resting his head on Lindsey's shoulder.

"Are you talking about Buffy?"

"Yes."

"Fuck her. God damn stupid bitch, fuck her. What the hell did she say to upset you in the first place?"

"That I couldn't make anyone happy and no one would want me."

Lindsey felt anger and disbelief well up in him. "That upset you? God, Wes, you know how much I love you; you know how happy you make me. Why should her saying that make you doubt it?"

"I don't know! I don't know." He took a deep breath, trying to regain control. "I was overwhelmed and... and she was saying these things and it wasn't what she said, it was the energy she was throwing at me. I don't doubt you, it's just... I was supposed to be her Watcher, be in charge of her, and she never listened to me. She hated and resented me from the first moment. And-"

"And all you've ever really wanted was to be respected," Lindsey finished for him.

Wesley nodded mutely, pulling away.

Lindsey was silent for a moment, before reaching out and caressing his lover's back. "I've always respected you, even when you were my enemy. Wes, you are so powerful. We need you more than we need her."

"What about Faith?" His voice was very small.

"I'm sorry about that; I should have waited until a better time to break the news. I could tell there was something wrong with you." Lindsey traced Wesley's neck with his index finger. "I can feel you, sometimes, you know. Inside, I feel you."

Wesley turned and faced Lindsey. "Yes, I know. I can feel you too." He took a deep breath. "Faith tortured me; I don't know if I'm strong enough to be able to work with her."

Lindsey chose his words carefully. "If she gets out, we are going to need her. There are a lot of Warriors, but if she truly is reformed, we could use her."

The sorcerer sighed. "I know. I'm just afraid she won't..." He shook his head, not finishing his thought. Instead, he captured Lindsey's lips with his own, kissing him with a heady desire. His fingers flew down the buttons of Lindsey's shirt with nimble grace, throwing it open and running his hands across the lawyer's skin. Lips traveled down to his neck, biting and licking as Wesley pushed his lover's shirt off and laid back, pulling Lindsey on top of him.

"Wes," Lindsey groaned, shifting so he could meet Wesley's mouth with his own. He could feel himself growing hard as Wesley moved beneath him.

The sorcerer's mouth was hot and demanding under his, fierce with need. His graceful fingers were tugging at Lindsey's clothes; Lindsey began to strip his lover, even as his mind began to question whether fucking right now was the right thing to do.

He began to pull away. "Baby...God!" he exclaimed as Wesley's hand slipped down his pants, closing around his cock. "This isn't... really... You're upset," he panted as he continued to undress his lover, his body having a mind of it's own.

"I need you. Please," Wesley whispered, arching his body up. There was a strong edge of longing to his voice, and a need that had nothing to do with desire.

The Prophet gazed down into his love's bright eyes. "I love you," he said seriously. He traced Wesley's lips, eyes, and jaw gently, lovingly.

"I love you too," the sorcerer replied. Their lips met again, softly this time, tongues dancing as they slowly explored familiar territory.

The last of Lindsey's misgivings flew away as his body took over. His Wesley needed him and he couldn't deny that call.

*****
Part 3: About This War

Angel walked back towards the hotel, feeling calmer. The first meeting between the two teams had been a disaster. He'd been concerned about Buffy's reaction to him and Xander. He never even considered how she would behave to Wesley. He'd forgotten, in his pre-occupation with both the war ahead and the near bliss he'd been walking in since Xander had come to stay, of Buffy's contempt with her former Watcher. That had been a big oversight on the vampire's part.

He'd basically kept the two apart as much as possible over the years. The few times she'd come to L.A. since Wesley joining him, she'd been too distracted by whatever had brought her to notice. Wesley had been invited to Tara and Willow's wedding, out of politeness, but had declined to attend. He had told Angel that it was because he wanted to remain in L.A. to help Cordelia and Gunn. The vampire had, naively, believed him.

Now, however, he realized the truth: Wesley was afraid of Buffy.

Well, he had reason, Angel admitted to himself. Buffy had never been the kindest to Wesley when he was her Watcher. Angel had pretty much ignored him then, too, and silently agreed with her feelings about him. It wasn't until he'd come to L.A. that Angel had really looked and seen the man beneath the surface; he'd been impressed at the inner strength, although he rarely if ever had said anything.

It had been very easy to love Wesley. He'd never actually been in love with the former Watcher, but he quickly had come to care deeply for the man. Their affair had been pleasant. The only reason they'd broken up was that Angel could sense that Wesley not only was not in love with him, but his heart was somewhere else. He hadn't realized until much later that Lindsey possessed Wesley's heart, but he knew it before Wesley himself had.

Wesley was family - Buffy was his past. She had held a special place in his heart and his life, but if she forced him to chose between his family and her, she would lose And she would just have to accept that.

"Hey, Angel. What you doing out here?" Gunn asked, walking up the street towards the hotel.

"I was sent out by Oz. There was... trouble when the Sunnydale crew showed up."

Gunn grinned. "Cordy called me. She said you threatened your ex-girlfriend? And Lindsey said he was going to kill her?"

"Well, he didn't say it, but he implied it. She went a little hard on Wesley." Angel turned and began walking to the Hyperion, Gunn beside him.

The young warrior shook his head. "Bad idea. What'd she say?"

The vampire gave him the brief version of what had happened. By the time he was through, Gunn was clenching and unclenching his fists, trying to control his anger. "And she's supposed to be one of the good guys?"

"Well, they have a history."

"Still, that ain't right. You don't go attacking people when you're supposed to be on the same side."

"You used to," Angel pointed out.

Gunn shrugged. "That was a long time ago. And it was different; he's told me about her. She was supposed to listen to him. I was never under his control, so to speak. Besides, Wes knows I'd never say anything like that and really mean it. He's my friend."

Angel smiled. "I know. He knows too." They walked into the hotel. The lobby was empty, but the vampire could hear Graham speaking in the dining/war room.

The two men entered the room. Oz was sitting on the table, facing Graham, who was in a chair. They were holding hands talking casually.

Oz looked up when they walked in. "Hey. Feeling better?"

"A bit. Thanks for taking control back there. I didn't mean for anything to get that out of hand," answered Angel.

"I don't blame you," Graham said. "She was way out of line."

"Maybe so," replied Oz, "But we need to work with her. Although, she does need to get used to the fact that Wes is important to us all in more than one way."

"I fooled myself into thinking that because she was older, she would react with more maturity than she used to," Angel remarked, sitting down.

"But, if she did, she wouldn't be the Buffy we all know and love," said Xander, entering the room. He walked over to Angel, putting his hands on the vampire's shoulders.

"You mean she always was a brat?" asked Gunn.

Xander shrugged. "She's gotten a lot better, really. I think she was thrown. Most likely she was nervous about coming out to LA to see Angel, especially since she doesn't know what's going on. All I really said was that big badness is coming and we need to all talk together. Then she finds out about Angel and me, got totally thrown, and began attacking what she perceived as an easy target."

"Oh, are we talking about me?" said Wesley, entering the room. He looked relaxed and happy, his eyes shining and their normal color, rather than the otherworldly silver, hand clasped firmly in Lindsey's.

"Are you okay?" Angel asked his friend.

Wesley smiled. "No permanent damage done. I suppose I'll survive."

"No thanks to-"

"Yes, Lindsey, we all know that you are distinctly unimpressed with her," Wesley cut him off.

"How's the power sich?" questioned Oz.

"Fine, I think. I can still feel it; it's not as overwhelming as before."

Cordelia walked in. "The gangs coming. Willow's great, you know? I can't believe I spent so much time hating her in high school. Of course, back then she was a geek and it would have ruined my reputation. Except when I was with you, Xan, I suppose I could have been nicer. But, no, I didn't like her. Now I do." She took a breath and glanced at Wesley. "Are you okay?"

The sorcerer scowled. "I'm fine. Does anyone else want to ask me, or has everyone all ready done so? I'm not a child or some china doll that's easily breakable." He was blushing, obviously embarrassed by the attention.

"Touchy, touchy. 'I'm not a child!'" she mocked in a high voice with a good attempt at a British accent. She looked at him pointedly.

Wesley had grace to smile. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay. I was just wondering. I mean, you knocked us quite a punch earlier. It was neat. Gunn, did you hear what Wesley did? It was so cool."

"Yeah, babe, I heard." He put his arm around her, the looked over at Angel.

Everyone followed his lead, looking expectantly at their leader.

Lindsey asked him the question on everyone's mind. "What are you going to tell them?"

"Everything. Azazel, Xavier, Lilith, Dever, you, Wesley, the war. Everything."

The Prophet nodded. "Sounds good."

Giles entered, followed by Tara and Willow. "Are we in the right place?"

"Yes, please, grab a seat. Welcome to the war room," Cordelia said.

Tara looked worried. "War room?"

"Yeah, we needed a big room to hold everyone and write out our plans and stuff when we had a big case. It was a nickname that stuck," she explained.

"It is particularly appropriate now that we are, in fact, at war," elaborated Wesley. He sat down. Lindsey stood protectively behind him.

Giles cleared his throat. "I want to apologize for earlier, Wesley."

Wesley shrugged uncomfortably. "It wasn't your fault."

"I feel as if it is. She's my slayer."

Buffy chose that moment to walk in. "She is also an independent human being, and an adult; as such, she should apologize for her own mistakes. Wesley, I may not like you, and I don't really trust you, but Angel does. I shouldn't have said what I did."

Shock was evident on Wesley's face. Angel watched as he struggled to find words, before mumbling, "Thank you," and turning to him, confused.

"Let's get started," Angel said, bringing his hands together and rubbing them briskly.

Everyone took a seat around the table. On one side was the L.A. team: Angel, standing at the head of the table, Xander, Cordelia, Gunn, Wesley, Lindsey, Graham, and Oz. Facing them was Buffy, Spike, Giles, Willow, and Tara.

The table was in the middle of the room. Along the walls were maps, cork boards filled with notes that read : "Over 10,000 dead in New York due to Disease," "Lilith's preferred method of killing," "Call Cataris tomorrow, see what the MC knows," and more. Behind Angel was a large dry erase board; one name was written on it: Azazel.

Angel pointed to the name. "That is our enemy," he began, "and he's going to be hard to kill."

"So, when can we expect this Azazel to attack?" asked Buffy after Angel had finished talking. She was playing with the barely touched plate of food in front of her.

"We don't. He won't attack us, at least not directly," Oz answered. "He's interested in weakening humanity as a whole. Once he does that, he might have enough power to release the Leviathan and over throw The Powers That Be."

"Where is he getting his power from?" Willow inquired.

There was a long silence, before Wesley replied, "We don't exactly know. Before he had Wolfram and Hart, but we destroyed that. Now... Power is a tricky thing. No one, not even the most powerful of beings, can create energy out of nothing. It must come from somewhere. It is possible that he is using Lilith and Dever somehow, but I'm not sure of the logistics of that. About a month ago, Dever passed through the area; about a quarter of the city fell ill and about half of that number died. The same thing happened in London, Moscow, and New York, only in New York the numbers were much arger. I think that Dever may feed off the energy released when a human dies, but I can't be sure."

"How do we fight something like that?" Buffy wondered aloud.

Angel rose and began pacing. "We have to study our enemies. This is not something that will happen all at once; they're bringing the war to the forefront, but they aren't powerful enough to win yet. So, we track them."

"How do you mean?" asked Giles.

Oz answered this time. "We keep track of where the demons are by events. Right now, we can tell if they're in the area right away because Wesley can sense them; not even the PTB know their exact location anymore. But we can assume that their presence will always have effects. So, we look for the effects: unexplained illness, mass death, mass suicide, that sort of thing."

"And in the meantime, we train," the vampire cut in. "All of us train to not only defend ourselves, but also to be able to mount an offensive attack if necessary. The house rule here is that everyone learns to fight and keep themselves in fighting shape. Willow, can you defend yourself without magic?"

The red haired witch shook her head. "Well, a bit, but probably not enough."

"Learn. I'm serious about this. They're going to be recruiting demons and these demons will know how to fight. We need to be able to do our best to match that. We also need to recruit as well."

"Recruit? What do you mean?" Spike wanted to know.

Angel leaned on the table. "There are demons out there that live relatively peaceful lives. Some might be persuaded to fight for us. There are people out there with powers: pyrokinetic, telekinesis, Wicca, shape shifters, and more. We recruit them to fight with us. We can't do this alone. For every human that dies, they are closer to their goal. For every demon they have, we need at least two. I may be being optimistic, but we need to pull our contacts, get people from all around the world to help us. This isn't a group of demons attempting to open the Hellmouth in our town. This is three very powerful demons attempting to destroy our world, demons that we have no way of knowing where they are or when they may attack. We need to be ready, we need to be a team." He locked gazes with Buffy. "Are you with us?"

She looked at him seriously. "Where's the dotted line? We're ready to sign up."

*****