"Greetings. I am Vivian, the Lady of the Lake."

Wesley rose and bowed slightly. "Hello. I am Wesley Whyndam-Price and these are my friends."

"Yes, I know. Please, come to my home. You are welcome to stay as long as you like, but I will warn you now that time moves differently here. One night is the same as one week in the rest of the world."

Angel stepped out onto the shore, gazing at the Lady intently.

She looked at him and grinned. "Hello, Angel. It is good to see you again."

"Have we met?"

"Once in this life, when you were a child. When I learned that Lancelot's soul had been reborn in Ireland, I had to go see you. You were, after all, my only son; the only child I have had in all my many years. That is why I was able to lead you here. There is still a connection, although a very faint one, between us." She glanced over at Xander. "Hello, Alexander."

"Hi. I go by Xander, actually."

"I am sorry."

Xander smiled and shrugged easily. "It's ok. For all I know in my past life I was Alexander the Great and that's why you keep calling me that."

Her eyes twinkled. "Actually, your most famous incarnation was Cleopatra. To Angel's Ceaser, of course."

"What?" the author said.

Lindsey cracked up and even Wesley, the butt of so many Cinderella jokes in the past weeks, had to smile.

Angel put his arm around his lover. "My queen, what happened? Once you were so beautiful and now . . .."

"At least I didn't get assassinated," he shot back.

Vivian smiled and began leading the group to a castle nearby. "I have often been fascinated by the way souls tend to stick together or find each other in their next lives. Certain souls cluster so they wind up in similar surroundings. Of course, the dynamics between the beings are different because the hosts of the souls are different in each life. Also, relationships between the souls do not follow through lives." She looked at Wesley. "It's not incest to sleep with your father from a previous life."

Wesley let out a sigh of relief. "I didn't think so, but wasn't certain. I've been flying blind through much of this."

"Yes, I know. Part of that is a deliberate part of the quest; the other part is the Power's that Be reluctance to get involved too much with mortal affairs."

Vivian led them into a receiving room. There were several comfortable couches, a thick rug on the floor, happily burning fire, and plenty of food and drink.

Coming to a rest on one couch, Vivian gestured for the others to sit. "Please, help yourself to any food and drink. Now, what can I do for you?"

Everyone looked at Wesley. He sat forward, a slight, nervous flush on his cheeks. "As you know, I am searching for the Grail. I think I've successfully placed it in several lifetimes and I have some questions."

"I will answer what I can."

"Did the Grail usually chose a form that it thought I would easily find?"

Vivian thought a moment. "Yes, that is a good way to put it. Remember, the Grail created you - your soul and energy signature. It is safest with you and that is where it wants to be. After your first quest, there was no need to prove yourself again, so it would chose a vessel close to the body you were placed in."

"Why does he have to prove himself now?" Lindsey asked, taking Wesley's hand.

"Well, he doesn't, not really. The Grail still wants you, Wesley. It's just that there are things blocking you from recognizing it."

"Like what?"

"Problems within you, insecurities. Issues you have not faced. You don't really grasp what that the Grail is or you would already have it." She looked critically at Wesley and Lindsey for a moment, then said, "How have you traced the Grail over the years?"

"Well, I've been meditating, exploring memories from my unconscious soul."

"Alone?"

"Yes."

"Why haven't you been using Lindsey?"

Wesley glanced over at his partner, then said, "I don't know how. I tried the first time, but I was unable to draw him in completely."

"I saw part of that vision," the Prophet said. "The one about Perceval; I was there. I just. . .I was kind of shadowy and indistinct. I kept fading in and out. It was confusing what was happening and odd."

Vivian sat forward. "You should try again. It's like anything, practice makes perfect. The more you use that ability, the better you will get at it. You know your bond could be stronger, deeper, right?"

The boys nodded.

"That could be one reason you are having trouble on your quest."

Wesley was silent for a moment, then took a deep breath. "When Azazel killed the solider who possessed the Grail last, was the bond severed?" Wesley asked.

"The solider?" Vivian repeated politely.

"Me. When he killed me." The Sorcerer's voice was stiff.

"No, it wasn't. Death did not sever the bond, although other actions served to strain it."

"Other actions?"

The Lady looked at him critically. "Have you searched that life? Do you know the events of what happened?"

"No. I . . .I've tried, but can't quite see. Something is blocking me. I keep getting hurled out every time I try." Wesley's eyes began glowing faintly.

"Baby?" Lindsey put his hand on Wesley's arm.

"I'm fine."

"Wesley, do you know what is blocking you?" asked the Lady.

"No."

"Please do not lie to me," Vivian said.

The eyes were glowing brighter now, his hand gripping Lindsey's as he fought for control over his powers.

Angel leaned forward, his stance protective. "You're upsetting him."

Her face and voice were unrelenting. "Yes, Angel, I know. He needs to understand what happened, he has to face it. Azazel managed to strain the bond between Wesley and the Grail; Wesley probably won't be able to find it until he faces what happened."

"I can't. I've tried! I really have, I just can't see what happened."

"Yes you can," Lindsey said quietly, understanding dawning on his face. "And you do. You just don't realize what you are seeing."

"What?"

Lindsey shook his head. "I'll try and explore that memory with you, so you're not alone." He kissed Wesley's cheek gently, then turned to Vivian. "I don't understand why he can see and feel what happened so clearly if it was another life. I know what happened upsets him, even he can't really remember. You just said each life is independent of each other, so why is this so strong with him?"

"Well, Wesley is different." Vivian picked up a goblet of wine and sat back. "Most souls have a period of inactivity between lives. Some, like your friend Doyle, become messengers, some go to the afterlife, some are punished, and some rest peacefully in oblivion. In any case, there is usually a time in which the old life fades, giving chance for the new life to evolve when they are reincarnated. Wesley, you have never had that chance to rest. You go from one life to the next without pause, focused on your quest to protect the Grail. Because of that, you retain more memories and more traits from life to life. You are still your own unique person, but there is more effect. That is one way you've been able to find the Grail each life."

"I would leave myself a message in my unconscious," said Wesley.

She nodded. "Yes. And when it was taken from you, the message, so to speak, was disrupted. And that is one reason you are having a hard time recognizing it."

Lindsey glanced at Wesley searchingly for a moment, the asked Vivian, "You said that the Grail wants Wes, right?"

"He was created for it. The Grail naturally wants the one it made to protect it."

The Prophet opened his mouth to ask something else, but Wesley interrupted and said, "But she said it didn't want me any more because I wasn't worthy."

"Who said that?" Vivian asked, surprise written across her face.

"The woman at the Fisher King's castle."

"Oh, Nimue?" Vivian laughed slightly. "She's a bit angry still that you made knight at fourteen and Arthur made her wait until near the end to knight her, but I can't believe she was that rude. Did she really say that, or is that just your interpretation?"

Wesley blushed and looked down. "She said that I had to find out if I was still worthy of it."

"And you've decided that you are not."

Wesley shrugged.

Vivian sighed. "It is not really your decision. That is for the Grail to decide. It is your job to be the best person you can be and live life with your eyes open and free from unnecessary insecurity. That is your weakness, Wesley. Yours too, Lindsey, come to think of it. You both devalue yourselves and you musn't. The world looks to you both. The world needs you both. Neither one of you will reach your true potential and be what the world needs you to be until you stop believing that you don't deserve what you have and accept that, perhaps, you are as good as everyone thinks you are. That you are as wonderful as each of you thinks each other is. Until then, you will not find the Grail."

Lindsey, his cheeks hot, took Wesley's hand and asked, "Someone said the Grail is looking for Wesley. Is it in a living form?"

Vivian smiled. "Why do you think that?"

"It's just, if it were a living thing and not an object, it would be easier to find him right? And maybe the Grail would choose a form that it knew would be someone that wouldcome into contact with Wes, like one of those soul cluster things."

"You may be onto something. So, what are you going to do now?" She looked expectantly at Wesley.

He sighed. "Is there anywhere I can meditate? With Lindsey, of course. Maybe try and use him as you suggested."

Vivian rose. "Yes. There are plenty of rooms. Follow the torches as they light; they will guide you. As for Angel and Xander, this island is fairly isolated and very magical. Why don't you take some time to explore? I understand this is sort of a romantic getaway for the two of you. I promise I will keep your boys safe."

Angel and Xander stood. "Thanks."

"Well, off to your tasks. And good luck."

*****
Part 25:

"Cordy? Are you ready to go?" Anne called from the front room of the shelter.

Cordelia, bent over a report, called back, "If you want to take Kimmy and go ahead, that's fine. I need to finish this up."

"We'll wait. But I'm going to take her outside for some fresh air."

"Ok." The social worker made some notes on the file she was reading. One of the 'permaent' residents of the shelter, a half breed demon whose parents had been killed by Azazel's army, was having a rough time adjusting. Unfortunately, their demon expert, Harry, was in Washington at the moment lobbying for demon rights. That left Cordelia, used to dealing with half breeds, but far from expert, to take care of the trouble.

The shelter, once a temporary home for kids on the street, had expanded into a group home for children as well. The 'strays' as Anne called them, were always welcome, but the state now funded a staff of trained social workers and psychologists as well a staff to take care of the kids. Since the war, the shelter's population had been in flux. On the one hand, there were many orphaned children, both demon and human, to take care of. Right after the war ended and the smaller battles began to dwindle, there had been a lot of children that had come in. Most of the homes and shelter's around the country had been filled to capacity and there had been even more children living in the abandoned homes and apartments of the dead.

Then parents who had lost their children or even some concerned people who had never had children began to respond to the crisis. Wesley and Lindsey, pressured by Cordelia and Anne, had encouraged those who wanted to help and spread their love to adoppt or at least foster childre and half-breed demons. The governments of the different countries pumped more money into training people who wanted to adopt on the difficulties surrounding the process. It became easier to adopt or foster and there was a wider network of support.

That caused the population of the shelters, as well as homes all over the world to go down, but the need for people who understood children - especially those who had lost their families, to go up. These days, the shelter was both a shelter and a counseling center for parents and their new children.

Cordelia's affiliation with Wesley, Lindsey, and Angel Investigations caused her services to be in high demand. After being allowed to bring her daughter into work with her at least a few days a week, she had agreed to come back full time.

Sighing, she closed the file. "Becca, make sure you keep and eye on him tonight," she said to one of the staff as she left her office. "He had a really rough day. If anything happens, call right away."

"Of course. Go home, get some sleep. You look exhausted."

"I will, thanks." Cordelia picked up her baby bag and briefcase. "By everyone. See you tomorrow," she called as she walked through the front room.

"Bye," the kids called back.

She stepped outside. "Anne?"

There was no one there. "Anne?" Cordelia walked a bit down the block. The car was still there. Where was she? "Anne!"

"Cordelia," a weak voice said from the bushes.

"Ryan? Oh my God, what happened?" she asked, horror rising in her.

The teenager, bleeding from his nose, a large bruise on his head, eyes cloudy, looked up at her. "This man. . .he was in a car and he got out. They hit her on the head and pulled her and Kimmy into the car. They drove away real fast. I tried to stop them, but they hit me and they threw me over here. I don't feel good."

"Stay there," Cordelia said numbly, suddenly very cold. "I'll go call the police." She walked back into the shelter.

"Cordelia?" Becca said. "Are you ok? What happened?"

Without answering, Cordelia walked over to the phone and dialed 911. "Hello? Someone took my little girl. Please. . someone took her." Then the tears came.

*****
Part 26:

"Good-morning."

"Vivian, hi." He walked over and sat next to the Lady.

She smiled at him gently. "So, did he see?"

"Yeah, he did. He's upset. He thought that those dreams he was having were just dreams. I mean, they were, but they were repressed memories too. The funny thing is, in the dreams, Azazel is much more rough when he rapes Wesley, but the real vision, it was more, I don't know, not as brutal, but more of a betrayal."

"When Wesley had found Azazel in the desert, they had become friends. Two brilliant, handsome, charming, sophisticated individuals meeting in an unlikely place; they really hit it off. Wesley had been the only survivor of a battle and, ashamed of himself, decided to stay where he was. Azazel didn't realize who Wesley was until he sensed the grail power. Even then, no one expected him to do what he did. It was one of the only occasions of Azazel not acting under his own power."

"What do you mean?"

"The Powers that Be found out later that the Leviathan managed to get a message up to Azazel, telling him to separate the grail and its keeper. There was a prophecy saying something to the effect that a powerful sorcerer would arise and, with the help of the Grail, would thwart the fallen angel. So, he wrested the Grail away, and strained the bond by raping Wesley. It was more a betrayal because they had been friends." She sighed. "Then there is what Wesley did to Azazel."

Lindsey nodded. "He really hasn't faced that. I know he feels guilty because he raped Azazel, kind of, but he hasn't faced any of it. Before he showed up at the wedding, Wesley wouldn't even really talk about Azazel. They don't know each other that well; they've only talked maybe five times face to face, in this life. I've tried to get Wes to talk about it with me, but he just won't."

"It won't stop him from finding the Grail; at least it shouldn't. But you are right; he does need to examine what happened. It would be healthier for him."

"I know." The Prophet sighed and laid back on the grass. "Can I ask you a stupid question?"

"Of course."

"Weley said that Camelot didn't fall because Lancelot had an affair with Guienever. So how did it fall?"

She was silent for a moment, before answering, "Lack of trust. Arthur and Lancelot didn't trust themselves or each other enough. Both secretly believed that they weren't good enough for the other. To Arthur, Lancelot was the epitome of a man and knight and person. And he was, in some ways. He was a good man, thoughtful, caring, powerful, charming, charismatic. But so was Arthur. Arthur could never see past his birth, even after he was king. For six years of his life he was raised in a small hut in the forest by Merlin, then, later, in the hall of a lesser knight, Sir Ector. Ector treated him with little affection, favoring his son, Kay. Granted, Kay and Arthur got along well, but the king still always felt second best. Even after he had proven himself, there was a part of him that always felt as if he were a fraud and that someday everyone would find out and reject him. As for Lancelot, well, he thought Arthur was nothing less than a god. Unfortunately for us all, in ways, Arthur was."

"Unfortunately?"

"Yes." She smiled gently. "Arthur was a sun god. He rose, shone brightly and magnificently for a brief moment, and then died in a glorious haze. Lancelot didn't think he was worthy of such a brightly shining star so he held back, which hurt Arthur more. Arthur needed love."

"Like me."

"Yes," Vivian agreed, reaching out to brush Lindsey's hair gently. "Like you." Her face was soft, eyes distant as she continued. "Not trusting oneself has the unfortunate reaction of not being able to trust anyone else. Both Arthur and Lance always believed that the other would leave them, attracted to another person. Each feared abandonment above all. As king, Arthur was separate from most of the kingdom. He needed an equal. Lancelot was the closet thing, besides Galahad, actually. But the insecurity got in the way. Too much of a romantic, the moment that Lancelot displayed any interest in another being, Arthur would fly into a jealous rage. It finally proved to be too much and Lancelot left. Mordred took the opportunity to gather his army and attack Arthur. Mordred managed to gather enough support to match the kings and they killed each other on the battle field. And thus endeth the dream."

"So he died alone?"

Vivian shook her head. "Lancelot came back. Arthur died in his arms, and his lover brought him here for burial. Not alone exactly. But the end could have been averted."

"How?"

"That is for you to realize, Lindsey. I can't give you all the answers."

Lindsey rolled onto his stomach. "I wish it were that simple." He began playing with a blade of grass. "I've always wondered why the dream ended. Arthur seemed like a good man and yet, he lost."

"He was a good man, and when he comes back, he still will be." Her fingers were playing in the waves of his hair again.

"Comes back?"

"There is the prophecy of when the world needs him most, the king wil return to help guide the world. Most interpret it to mean that he will come back exactly as before and single handedly lead the world, but I don't believe that. Leading alone is what he tried the last time; I think this time, he will find that deep connection he was lacking in the last life and, with that someone, save the world."

Picking the grass, Lindsey remarked, "We could have used him against Azazel."

Vivian sighed. "You did fine."

The Prophet was silent for a moment, before a thought occurred to him. "Do you have Excalibur?" He looked up, strangely excited at the idea.

She shook her head. "No, I don't. It was sent to where it would be most useful."

He nodded as if he understood, then asked, "We're not going to find the Grail in England, are we?"

"Most likely not. You are very close. At this point, location is not a factor. Belief is." She rose. "I must go attend to my morning ceremony."

"Thank you for all your help."

"It was the least I could do, Lindsey." She crouched next to him, kissed him on the forehead, then, rising once again, left.

Lindsey stood as well, walking further into the garden he was in. Avalon was really beautiful. There were fruit trees and flowers, a few fountains and some natural running streams through the grounds. He could see hills in the distance and knew from a conversation with Angel and Xander as they came in this morning there were hot springs nearby.

He began imagining taking Wesley into one and what they could do as he walked. Kiss him here, touch him there, listen to him sigh Lindsey's name in that half pleading, half desperate tone. Around them would be birds and trees and flowers and . . .

"Azazel."

The demon, stretched out on a marble bench, dressed in a blood red shirt, and black slacks, his hat next to him, the morning sun highlighting the gold in his hair, looked up from the book he was reading.

"Ah, it's the Prophet. And how are you this morning?" he asked pleasantly.

"Can you be here?" he demanded, wishing he had a weapon so he could run the demon through.

"Obviously yes. Oh, I'm sure Vivian won't be happy, but she won't kick me out. So, yes."

"What are you doing here?"

"Dreaming of Wesley prancing through the garden wearing nothing but a blue bow. And yourself?"

The Prophet just glared, clenching his fists.

"Oh, come on. You can't tell me that it's not an enticing image."

"He. Is. Mine." He walked slowly towards the demon, his chest pounding, blood rushing through him.

"Yes, I know. And that's why I wanted to talk to you." Azazel rose and walked up to Lindsey until they were face to face. "I need Wesley. He's linked to me, I need him. I want visitation rights. Like, I get him every other weekend plus a month in the summer, just me and him."

Lindsey laughed. "You've got to be joking."

"I'm serious. You don't understand; you've never been long without him. Even when you were in Jerusalem, you guys compensated by strengthening your bond. I've got nothing and it's not fucking fair." Desperation entered his eyes.

Surprised, Lindsey blinked. "My God, you're really serious."

"Yes. He's the only one in this whole world that I really want and I'm not used to it. I never even really cared about sex before, and now it's like if I don't sleep with him, I'm going to go crazy. You thought I smoked a lot before, well now I'm going through like five hundred cigarettes a day. I'm bored and lonely and I want Wesley."

"You threatened me and now you want me to share him?"

"When did I threaten you?"

"The flowers, you asshole. Remember?"

Clearly, it had slipped the demon's mind. He winced slightly. "Oh, right. The funeral flowers. I don't suppose you'll believe I'm sorry about that."

"No."

Azazel cocked his head. "What did you do when you got them?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Oh. I hit a nerve there. What did you do?" He touched Lindsey's shoulder gently. "You did something you're ashamed of, I can tell. You didn't hurt our boy, did you?"

"He is NOT YOURS!" Lindsey shouted.

The demon didn't even blink. "You did. You hurt him. Did you bruise him? Hit him, or just fuck him so hard that he cried out in pain and not pleasure? Did you stop? You're linked; his pain is yours. You could probably feel what you were doing. You defiled him with your actions."

"Like you are any different," hissed the Prophet. "You raped him."

Azazel stepped back, paling a touch. "Does he know that?"

"He just found out."

Azazel closed his eyes and swore. "Well, fuck." He stepped back and lit a cigarette. After taking a long drag, he said, " So, he's upset about it, but it was another life. You know he has to talk to me eventually, right?"

Lindsey sighed, some of the anger draining out of him. "Yeah. He needs to."

"Right. But I'll wait a bit. He'd probably hurt me right now." He took another puff. "So, how's the Grail search coming? Have you figured it out yet?" Azazel asked, switching subjects.

"Figured what out?"

"What it is? Where it is?"

"No, not yet."

The demon pulled a crystal pyramid out of his pocket. "Well, here."

"What's this?"

"It's a power holder, a much cruder one than what I used to use, but this is designed specifically for the type of energy signature the Grail gives off. You know, in case you hate whoever is hosting the Grail, or Wesley does, or the host rejects him. You can transfer to power into this and viola, Grail in box. Sort of."

Lindsey looked at the demon skeptically. "Why are you giving this to me?"

"Because it's not mine. I stole it from Rupert and Willow. So, I figure, I might as well give it to you. You know, just in case anything happens." He took another puff, then said, "I'm willing to compromise, share him with you even though I think my claim over him is as strong as yours. Just remember that." With one last smile, he disappeared.

Shaking his head, Lindsey took the orb and headed back to the castle. That demon was trouble.

*****
Part 27:

Spike prowled through the back alley street, searching desperately for Kimmy. There had been no leads, no ransom notice, no nothing since she had been kidnapped. Cordelia was going crazy, convinced that if she had just kept the visions they would have the baby back. The vampire had Raoul and his gang searching during the day, although at this point, they were searching blind.

Riley's student had disappeared as well, as had the teacher, Mather. Suspicious minds, all of them, they began to wonder if he had something to do with Kimmy and Anne's abduction as well. They had no proof, but if Mather was really as anti-vampires as he came off, maybe had had taken the tiny Slayer.

Then Ethan Rayne was in town. Giles had suggested that perhaps he had stolen the baby.

So many suspects. . .

So caught up in his thoughts, the vampire didn't see the board swinging at his head until it was too late. And then, when it hit him again, he had enough time to wonder where the hell the person was that was holding the damn board before he passed out.

* * *

"Hey, baby," Lindsey said, sliding across the bed to the newly wakened Wesley. "How are you feeling?"

Wesley, hair rumpled and eyes still vague with the last vestiges of sleep, reached out and pulled Lindsey to him. "I'm all right." He smiled slightly as Lindsey kissed him gently. "How about you? I know trances can be hard."

The Prophet settled his weight onto his life partner's, tracing his collar bone lovingly. "I'm feeling better. Nothing like a nice morning walk to get the queasiness away." He kissed Wesley more deeply. "You know, Angel was telling me that there are these hot springs here that are like natural hot tubs. I was thinking that maybe we could steal away there for a few hours, have some fun?"

"That would be heavenly." He closed his eyes, stretching under Lindsey, his body moving in a very erotic manner.

Lindsey groaned slightly, and leaned down to begin placing a string of wet kisses on Wesley's sleep warmed skin.

"Wes! Lin! Get up, we need to go home!" Angel called through the door, banging on it.

The door flew open.

"Nice of you to give us warning," Lindsey shot at the vampire angrily, rolling off Wesley and pulling the blankets around him.

Angel didn't even make any obvious cracks. "Kimmy and Spike have disappeared. Vivian saw it on her magic portal thing. We've got to get back."

Lindsey rose and fastened his pants, Wesley quickly rose, also reaching for his clothes.

"Christ, we've got to get to the house, get the plane ready . .."

Vivian stepped into the room. "No, I can transport you directly there. It will save time. I think your baby's life might be in danger."

"She's just a baby," Lindsey said, feeling frustration rise in him. "Who would take a baby?"

"A zealot. I think this man, Mather I believe his name is, is going to try and transfer the baby's power into another host. That is where your childe comes in, Angel. You see, he never lost his soul when he was made."

"What?" Wesley said.

"I've always known something was different and special about him, but it wasn't until the war that I found out,"Angel said. "Oz was telling me a bit about it, back when Spike was spying against Azazel. Because Dru was touched by the Powers that Be with her visions, that changed her blood. I was born to be a Warrior, but I got changed before I got my calling, so I've been touched by them too. Both she and I sired him jointly in because I knew she wouldn't be able to properly care for him. Because of all that, he kept his soul. He's still a demon, so he doesn't have problems killing and all that, he's just different. He loves and cares."

Vivian nodded. "Yes. And now his death will be used to be the force that transfer's the power. You can stop them, Wesley, but I can't find where they are. Someone is blocking my view."

"Azazel?" asked Angel.

She shook her head. "No, I don't believe so. Chaos is blocking my view, but it's weaker than what Azazel can manage. Come, I'll send you home."

"Up for the fight, baby?" Lindsey asked, taking Wesley's hand and following the Lady.

"I hope so. I hope we find them in time."

"Yeah, me too."

*****
Part 28:

Willow knocked gently on the door to Giles's room, then entered. The Watcher was laying on the bed, blind eyes open and pointed towards the ceiling. Frustration and despair was etched on his features.

"Willow?" he guessed.

"Yeah. How are you doing?" the witch asked, walking over to the bed and sitting down.

"Oh, wonderful." He sighed. "I am, of course, useless, you know."

"You are *not* useless."

Giles took her hand. "Yes, I am. I'm blind, so I'm not much good as a Watcher any more. I can't read Braille so I can't help with any research, I can barely run my shop, I'm angry and I hate being blind. I feel like an old fool because I am useless and I'm so desperately in love with you and I shouldn't be."

"Why not?"

"You are so young and have so much to offer the world. And now I'm old and dried up and I just. . ."

Willow silenced him with her mouth. After kissing him until they were breathless, she pulled back and said, "I love you, I told you that. You are the one I want to be with. And you are not useless; you just need to adjust to everything. It's hard, I know that, but it's how things are now. And I am not going to let you lock yourself away." She caressed his hair, petting him. "This is about Ethan, isn't it."

He nodded. "I just have this feeling that he is somehow involved. And I don't know what to do about it."

There was a sudden knock at the door.

"Willow," Xander called through it. "We're back. Come downstairs; you too Giles."

"Why don't you just open the door, Xan?" Willow called back, rising and pulling Giles up with her.

There was a moment of hesitation, then, "I don't want to know if you guys are naked, that's all. Besides the "ewe" factor, it means I lost the bet and owe Spike about a hundred dollars."

Giles began laughing. He made his way confidently to the door and opened it. "We're not naked, Xander, but as Willow has told me that she is in love with me, I have a feeling you did lose the bet. However, I owe you fifty because I was wrong about Cordelia and Anne."

Xander's visage brightened. "Great! I told you they would get together."

"I was a fool do doubt you," the Watcher responded dryly.

Willow slipped her hand into his, and said, "Come on. To the war room."

* * *

Giles sat after telling Wesley everything about Ethan's visit to the Magic Box.

Wesley looked thoughtful. "Vivian said she couldn't see where they were keeping Kimmy and Anne. I agree that it's probably not Azazel, although something powerful enough to disrupt a dimensional window must be related to chaos. I think Ethan is a wise suspect. Did you ever sleep with him?"

"Wesley. . ." Willow started, but Giles interrupted.

"Yes, when we were younger."

The sorcerer rose, his eyes glowing. "I'm going to try and see if he created any sort of link to you. I believe I can do it." Wesley walked over to Giles and put his hand on the older man's head. Breathing deeply, he began to ^^explore.^^

Giles felt himself melting into nothing, expanding out into the unconscious power of the world like liquid. After awhile, there was a familiar presence. Wesley helped him ^^grab^^ onto that presence and follow the path until he could see through Ethan's eyes. After taking a long look, the Watcher ^^pulled^^ back.

"Well?" Wesley gasped, slightly winded.

"It looks like someone's house. A normal, residential house, except for the cages in the living room. Anne and another woman are in one cage, Spike in another. I couldn't see the baby, but I know she was there."

Riley stirred, tearing a piece of paper to shreds restlessly. "Did the other woman have blue eyes and brownish hair? Some freckles on her nose? Young?"

"Yes."

"That's Megan. I'll bet they're at Mather's house. He really hates vampires."

"But how did he find out?" Lindsey wondered.

Angel rose. "When we get them back, we'll ask them. Riley, do you know where Mather lives?"

"No, but it's in the school data base."

Willow stood. "I'm on it."

"You still know how to use a computer, Will?" Xander asked.

"I think I can manage it," she responded.

"I want to go in with weapons, just in case," Angel said. "I'm going to the weapons room. Stay on the property; I want to leave soon as we find out."

Riley stood and took Cordelia's hand. "Don't worry; we'll get her back."

"I hope so."

*****
Part 29:

Wesley was rummaging through the wedding gifts, searching for the swords he and Lindsey had been given. They still had never gotten the chance to really go through their presents; circumstance had conspired against them. Riley swore that Spike had somehow managed to restrain himself from stealing anything, and, indeed, most of the gifts seemed to be there. The swords, however, were hiding. Wesley was beginning to suspect that they had simply disappeared.

"Wow; this is beautiful."

Wesley turned. "Give me that," he snapped, taking a crystal vase from Azazel's hand.

The demon blinked and pouted. "That was really rude. Didn't your mommy ever teach you how to share?"

"Go away, Azazel. I don't have time for you."

"You *never * have time for me."

Wesley flinched from Azazel's suddenly heated tone.

"I spent five months waiting for you to for call me, waiting for you to demand my presence and tell me the rules. To tell me how this was going to work," the demon continued, his cheeks growing pink from anger, eyes burning. "And what did you do? You ignored me. You never did anything but pretend I didn't exist. Pretend that I didn't matter and that we weren't linked. Instead, you flitted around the whole world, playing nice, telling everyone that the big bad demon was gone and everything was going to be fine. You made love to the whole world and ignored me! I was stuck in the fucking heavenly court waiting for you! Do you know how boring it is up there? I thought that if I just waited patiently, eventually you would call for me and tell me what was going on and you didn't. That wasn't fair."

"Oh, and anything you've *ever* done to me has been fair?" Wesley fired back, his own eyes glowing brightly. "You try to destroy the world. You killed Buffy, seduced Spike, kidnapped my lover, and handed me over to some obsessive maniac to fuck as if I were a toy! I am not happy that I am linked to you; in fact, I am furious. Had anyone told me that fucking you would mean I was your keeper for eternity I ..."

"Don't you dare say you wouldn't have done it, Wesley, because you would have," Azazel cut him off coldly. "Let's face it: you are the only one who can do the job. The Powers that Be don't want to look after me, they never have. They stuck me in the desert for years and they forgot about me. Oh, every few years they'd send down someone to check and see if I were still there, but other than that, nothing. That's why they need you; you won't get bored. You were made for long term stuff like protecting the Grail and keeping me in line. And, let's face it: you kind of get off on it. Sure, you're pure and sweet and loving, but you need to have some sacred duty to survive with any confidence. So don't say you would have turned the job down, because you never would have. You're just being immature." Azazel stared Wesley down for a moment before turning away, lighting a cigarette and taking a puff. "You should have called for me. You should have given me rules because I don't know what to do here. I thought by someone agreeing to be bound to me, keeping me in check, that it would mean I wouldn't be alone all the time. But you won't even see me. I want you, Wesley; they've made me practically dependant upon you. It's like, suddenly, I'm Spike and need that attention."

"Suddenly? Please. You've always needed the attention. That's what the whole war was about, wasn't it? A child crying out for his boundaries to be set."

"I wanted to rule. And now I want you."

"You raped me." Wesley's voice was shaking.

Azazel shook his head and crushed the cigarette out. "I raped Lt. Garrison Smith, not you. I didn't want to do it, either, but I had to. The Leviathan said that you would return on the Great Day, full of power and with the help of the Grail destroy our vision. I had to take the Grail, I had to strain the bond, I had to separate the two of you." He stepped closer, touching Wesley's shoulder almost tentatively. "You were the only friend I had had out there in thousands of years. If I had a choice, I wouldn't have done it because after you were gone, I was alone again."

Wesley crossed his arms tightly across his chest. "And look what happened. I still managed to defeat you, even without the Grail."

"But you had his help. The fucking king," Azazel shouted at the ceiling. "Jesus Christ, I was doomed from the start."

"What?"

Azazel slid his hand up Wesley other arm, stepping closer. "Nothing." His expression abruptly changed, eyes glowing as he took in power. He was more dangerous and more seductive all at once. "What are these?" One finger gently brushed a fading bruise on the Sorcerer's neck.

"Nothing."

"They're from Lindsey, aren't they? He got a little rough with you. He hurt you, didn't he?" His voice was very soft and gentle. A red haze began to fill the room, pressing in on them, clouding Wesley's senses. "Lindsey raped you. Admit it. And you forgave him."

"It wasn't rape."

Slowly undoing the buttons on Wesley shirt, Azazel kissed him gently. "It was brutal. It hurt. You were scared."

"I . . .I was overwhelmed. But it was fun," he answered vaguely, becoming confused. He didn't understand what was going on; everything was like a dream. His powers, the world, Lindsey, everything seemed so very far away. All that existed was Azazel and Azazel's hands and Azazel's lips finding all the most sensitive places on his body. Wesley knew that he shouldn't want Azazel to touch him, that it was a betrayal to Lindsey, and yet there was a part of him that didn't want the demon to stop. Every tiny touch sent shivers through his body, directly to his groin.

"Fun," Azazel scoffed, his lips exploring the skin behind Wesley's ear. "I could show you fun. I have power; I am more like you than he will ever be. You think making love to Lindsey is an experience, try me. We could be so deep inside each other, there would be no way to tell who's pleasure was whose." His hands were creeping down Wesley's stomach, gentle and enticing. " Lindsey can't understand beings like us. He is stronger than you, more confident. You need to be needed; he doesn't need you. In a few years he'll grow tired of you. Me? Never. We are linked together for eternity, forever. Your soul could stop searching, be with me, stop me from what I do. You have that power, Wesley. Take me."

"But. . ." Wesley began before Azazel kissed him.

The demon's lips were insistent, but still gentle. His tongue began tracing Wesley's lips, seeking entrance. Wesley didn't want to allow him in, but Azazel was so persuasive. It was as if he was directly stimulating every nerve in Wesley's body, overriding his sense, playing on his insecurities and washing them away with a tide of pleasure.

Azazel's hand slipped down Wesley's pants to caress his cock. The Sorcerer whimpered, part of him screaming to get away, but unable to move, trapped in Azazel's thrall.

"Wesley?"

"No!" Azazel hissed as Wesley violently pushed him away, flushed and breathless, eyes wide with horror.

"Lindsey."

*****