Megan stretched, kicking Anne in the leg. "Oh, sorry."

"That's ok. It's not like there's a lot of room in here." She shifted, uncomfortable. "I liked it better when they were keeping us in the room."

"Yeah, me too. I still can't believe they caught us so fast, though."

"It was Ethan who found us. Mather couldn't find a donut in a bakery."

The teen-ager giggled. "No kidding. I've always hated him." She glanced over at the next cage. "Spike? How are you doing?"

The vampire shrugged. "What I wouldn't give for a nice young girl. . .oh, wait." He grinned, but it didn't reach his sunken eyes. "Some blood would be nice, but I'll survive."

Anne scooted over to the far side of the cage. "How badly do you need to feed? I think I can reach you." She reached her arm out, offering her wrist.

"Delia would kill me," he replied. "I'm not going to do it. One of us needs to be strong, and I'd rather it be you. You be sure to take care of Kimmy."

"I will. I just wish I knew what they were going to do."

"We are going to transfer the baby's powers into the girl," Ethan Rayne said, entering the room. "When the sun has gone down, we're taking you out onto the back porch. When the spell is done, we'll barbecue a steak and have a pool party."

"I take it you are unused to doing spells from such a homey setting?" Spike sat up and clenched the bars of his cage, knuckles white.

"This was Mather's mother's house. She, unfortunately, was a vampire snack right after the main battle of the war." Ethan glanced around, his nose wrinkled in distaste at the furnishings. "It is a bit off for my tastes, but it's all we have."

"Pity. Was looking forward to being taken to some big room and sacrificed on an alter all proper like."

Ethan smiled. "Yes, well, your death will still be spectacular, I assure you."

The door bell rang. Mather walked through the living room, holding Kimmy, to answer it. He had hardly let the child out of his grasp since he and Ethan had stolen her.

"Ah, Induna, you're here."

"As promised." Induna and Mather came into the living room.

Anne gasped. "But, but you healed Lindsey."

"Yes, I did," the woman replied smoothly.

"Why are you doing this?"

"I am being paid well, just as I was to heal the Prophet."

"We didn't pay you," Spike told her.

She glanced over at him. "No, you didn't. The Sorcerer's charge did."

"The Sorcerer's charge? What . . ." Anne's eyes widened. "Azazel paid you?"

The woman nodded once, then turned to Mather and Ethan. "You have the Slayer. The blond is a little old, but I suppose she will do."

Mather shook his head. "No, not Anne. Megan, the other one. She is going to be the new vessel."

Induna glanced at her, concentrated for a moment, then shook her head. "You cannot use her."

Megan stiffened, her eyes pleading.

"Why not?"

"She does not meet the qualifications. The slayer's power will reject her. It must be the blond or you must find another vessel."

"You said that all I needed as a human female! I got one. She is the one I want." Mather said firmly. "I am paying you a lot of money, I want you to use that girl."

"He's planning on marrying her when she has become the slayer," Ethan said in a lethargic tone.

The healer smiled. "It seems a little antiquated. Watcher's have not married their slayers since the 1700s."

"He's technically not a Watcher," Ethan responded.

"Yeah, he's just a disgusting old pervert!" Megan fired, her eyes angry. "I am not marrying you, Mr. Mather!"

The English teacher glared at her. "You will. This world is overrun by demons and other beings that have fallen from the light of God. It is my duty to spread the truth and help save the world."

"If it really were you would be doing something constructive to help," Anne said, sitting up to back Megan up. "You would have been called by the Powers that Be to do something by magic, like Wesley and Lindsey and Cordelia. Or you would be fighting along side Angel and the rest, actually *helping* instead of randomly attacking people that you think are wrong."

"They are wrong. Sodomites and demons and perverts. I will transfer the powers to Megan, marry her and train her to fight evil. We will raise this child as our daughter, freeing her from the house of sin her mother lives in. You are wrong and I know the true way!" Mather was gripping the baby so tightly, she started to cry.

Induna seemed unimpressed by his speech. "You cannot use the girl. She does not fit the requirements."

"She's a girl, isn't she?" shouted Mather.

Ethan smirked. "My, he is dense."

Spike rolled his eyes. "She's a demon, you fucking moron."

There was stunned silence from Anne and Mather. They turned to look at the red-faced teen.

She shrugged and looked apologetically at Anne. "My father was the ruler of another dimension. We were exiled a hundred years ago and came here. I was just a toddler; in terms of my people's lifespan, I am a teen-ager now. We're peaceful." She seemed insecure.

The blond put her arms around Megan and hugged her tightly. "It's ok; don't be afraid. I'm still here for you."

Mather looked as if someone had struck him in the stomach with a two-by-four. Sputtering to find words, he said, "Demon?"

"That's right, asshole. You've been lusting after a demon," the girl replied.

"But you look human."

"I'm a shape shifter. I can assume whatever form I want."

"Then why haven't you escaped?" Spike asked, annoyance creeping into his tone.

She shrugged. "I'm still young and it takes a lot of energy to change shapes. As long as I stay in one form, I'm fine, but if I change, I can't do much for days."

Mather's face closed down. "Fine, we'll use Anne. Let's take her now; I'll figure out what to do with the demon spawn later."

"Very well. Ethan, we need to purify her."

The warlocks face lit up. "Oh good. This part will be fun."

Her eyes steady, Anne squeezed Megan's hand tightly. "Then let's get on with it," she said, her voice steady.

"We will." The cage was unlocked and Anne was led out by the two treacherous magic users.

Kimmy continued to wail.

*****
Part 31:

Lindsey looked from Azazel to Wesley, his chest heaving. He clenched his fists as his eyes began to burn. "What . . " he started, but he stopped, voice catching. Closing his eyes tightly, he asked in a surprisingly steady voice, "What's going on?"

Wesley shook his head, trying to clear it. Besides him, Azazel was leaning against a box, slumped and panting. He seemed wilted.

"I was so damn close," the demon said. He coughed and rubbed his chest. "I don't feel good."

"It serves you right," the sorcerer shot back. "Trying to overpower me. You should have known better."

"Oh come on. You wanted it. I can't enchant you without partial permission."

Lindsey opened his eyes, pinning the demon with his gaze. "Enchant him?"

Azazel looked at him. "Yes, Prophet, enchant him. But he has to be at least partially receptive. He let me get my hand down his pants; he may not have even stopped me. Obviously he finds me attractive. Doesn't that *hurt*? He finds another man - he finds me - attractive? Go ahead, ask him if you don't believe me. Ask him."

A thousand thoughts entered Lindsey's mind as Wesley stared at him helplessly. Everything he had ever feared, evey image that had ever been in his nightmares, in his mosst secret thoughts was here I this room.

Azazel was trying to steal his Wesley.

And Wesley had responded. The Prophet knew enough about enchantments from what he had read to know the demon had spoken the truth. The enchantee had to be at least partially attracted to the one doing the enchanting. Wesley was attracted to Azazel: the enemy.

Azazel, the beautiful demon.

You can't ignore reality.

Taking a deep breath, Lindsey tried to be honest with himself. Once he was, he was able to say, "Of course he finds you attractive, Azazel. You are gorgeous; not many people wouldn't. *I* think you are attractive." He glanced at Azazel.

The demon's mouth was hanging open. Flustered, he responded, "Well, ask him if he is attracted to me. There's a difference, right? One's about aesthetics and the other is about emotions? Ask him if he would like to sleep with me. Didn't he vow to be faithful? It would be pretty unfaithful to want to sleep with another person."

This was the test. That suddenly became very clear to Lindsey; he was being tested. Everything that Vivian had told him about Arthur and the dream back on Avalon rushed back to him. A test: It was here, right now, that his dream for a life with Wesley could end or really begin. It was here that he could make the choice that Arthur never had made, to really trust himself and trust his love. He could believe that no matter what, no matter where his attractions were, Wesley really wanted Lindsey most. Or, he could give into temptation and believe that Wesley's answer - because he knew it had to be affirmative - meant that it was over, that Lindsey didn't deserve Wesley any more, and that everything they had ever meant to each other never really mattered.

He needed to trust Wesley.

And suddenly Lindsey realized that he *did * trust Wesley. Time and time again the sorcerer had proven, through words and actions, that the only person in the entire world that he wanted to be with for the rest of his life was Lindsey. And that was what really mattered. Not Wesley's attraction to Angel or Azazel or who ever, or the physical response that each could provoke. The fact was it didn't matter if there was a small part of Wesley that wanted to sleep with either of them because Wesley *wouldn't * and that is what mattered.

And now, he needed to make his partner in life realize this.

"Wesley?"

"Yes?" Wesley answered faintly, his eyes glowing.

Lindsey walked up to him, gazing into his eyes. "Are you attracted to Azazel?"

Miserable, Wesley nodded.

"So, there is a part of you that wants to sleep with him."

Another nod.

"Could he tempt you to sleep with him while we are married? Barring being forced to sleep with him for magical purposes, or unforeseen circumstances in the future, if he were to come to you tomorrow or next week or whatever and ask you to sleep with him, without enchanting you, would you do it?"

"No!" The tears began falling. "I love you. I want * you* and no one else. I'm attracted to him, I can't help it. Beyond the fact that he does remind me of you in some ways, there are some qualities that draw me. But not enough to want to break my vow to you. And . . .and Angel too. I am still partially attracted to him, but all I want is you. It is you that makes me happy and you are all I want." The tears fell faster, although it was obvious the Sorcerer was attempting to check them.

In his mind, over the bond, Lindsey could hear the words. / "It was over. It's too soon, but my marriage is over. He can't want me anymore." /

The Prophet nodded gently. "That's what I thought. Oh, don't cry, baby. I still love you. You are human - well, mostly, at any rate." He smiled, his eyes beseeching for Wesley to understand. "It's not in the wanting, it's in the doing that breaks the vow. I'll admit, I'm a tad attracted to him too; same with Angel, but I'm not going to sleep with them. Do you want to leave me?"

"No." Wesley shook his head to add emphasis, still unsure.

"I love you, Wesley Whyndam-Price." Lindsey kissed Wesley, ^^opening^^ himself until they were joined and sending his feelings through the bond.

Wesley looked at him oddly suddenly, a feeling of self-disgust and exasperation taking over.

/ "What?"/ Lindsey asked, partly annoyed. He wanted his beautiful moment.

The sorcerer shook his head and kissed him deeply. / "Nothing, my love. I've only just realized something and I can't believe I missed it before." /

Lindsey was about to push him further when Azazel broke into their conversation by saying, "But what about me?"

Wesley pulled away. "I will deal with you later. Right now, I have some friends to save." He walked over to a box and opened it. "Here they are." Turning back, he walked to Lindsey and fastened a sword belt on him.

"But, Wes, I don't know how to use it."

"Trust me; at the very least you can hack and slash at anything that tries to attack you. Azazel leave."

"I don't feel good."

"Then find a fucking room and take a nap! Just get out of this room because I do not trust you with the gifts."

The demon, affecting an air of wounded dignity, stood straight and smoothed down the front of his shirt. "I wouldn't have taken anything. I'm not a thief."

"You tried to steal Wesley," Lindsey informed him.

"Yeah, but he's a *real* treasure. Not like this crap. I'm going to go lay down. Good luck." He left the room.

Taking Wesley's hand, Lindsey shook his head.

/ "What a child." / he said.

/"As long as he is around, don't tell me that you want children. He's more than a handful."/ Wesley answered, walking out of the room.

/ "Got it. Let's go save Kimmy." /

*****
Part 32:

Anne was led out of the bathroom, dripping wet, partially naked, and very woozy. Ethan, one hand firmly on her elbow, was demanding, "What did you see?"

"I am not telling you," she told him, head pounding.

"You ok, pet?" Spike sat up, moving closer to the bars.

"Yeah." She looked at the vampire, her eyes wide and pain filled.

Mather, who had sitting on the couch, trying to hush Kimmy while glaring daggers at Megan, rose. Since Anne had been led away, he had been busy tending to his followers, letting them in his his house, giving them refreshments, and sending them to the back. "Are we ready?"

"The vessel had a vision; I think we must hurry," Induna told him.

"What did you see?" Mather asked her.

Ethan and Anne looked at him in disbelief. "If she didn't tell me, a warlock who could kill her where she stands, what makes you think she is going to tell you?"

"Fine. Let's just get this over with," Mather growled. He stalked to the back porch.

Induna and Ethan took Anne outside and tied her to their alter: a wooden picnic table. Then, the healer placed Kimmy into a gutted barbecue, chanting over her and sprinkling her with holy water. The warlock brought a struggling Spike out, cross held at his back, and tied him to a pole by the table.

All around the yard were the members of the Anti-Vampire League of Humans. They were all dressed in somber business clothes, hair neat, a badge reading AVLH pinned to the lapels of their suits. When Spike was led out, a general mummer of disgust was raised.

"What did you see?" Spike whispered after Ethan had tied him and gone to Induna.

The blue eyes filled with tears. "Lindsey was hurt. He was dying and he was here. I don't have any way to tell them. I should never have asked for the visions. If it wasn't for me, they would know not to come."

Spike snorted. "They would still come. That's what good guys do."

"But Lindsey. . ."

"Can take care of himself. Don't worry, Anne; it's going to be fine."

She took a deep breath, shivering. A wind had picked up, sending goose bumps across her pale flesh.

Kimmy started wailing.

Ethan stepped forward, holding a glowing ball in front of him. "It is time to being."

"What do we do?" Mather asked.

Induna walked over and took his hand. "Join hands in the circle and repeat 'the power must be moved; the vessel must be chosen' over and over. It is a chant."

Mather and his followers did so. Induna looked at Ethan, who nodded. He pulled out a knife.

"We beseech the powers, the gods, and the spirits to hear us. The vessel chosen is unworthy. By Kali's law, goddess of vampires, goddess of chaos, goddess of war, we chose a worthy vessel to fight the battles. Take the life-blood of the sacrifice, of great ones, and be well fed." Ethan walked over to Spike, his knife gleaming in the moonlight. Chanting slowly in an ancient language, he made an incision in the vampire's jugular vein.

Dark blood began spurting out.

"The vampire with a soul, the demon with a heart, feed on his blood, take his spirit," Induna said, breaking the chant of the followers.

Spike sagged as his blood fell on the orb. His eyes began clouding over.

"Spike! No!" Anne cried, struggling against her bonds.

Once the ball was coated, Ethan walked steadily over to the baby. He lifted the ball over his head. "Take the power, seek the higher vessel. I command . . ."

The orb abruptly burst as an immense wave of power hit it.

Ethan spun.

Wesley was striding through the yard, glowing blue light. "Let them go."

"No!" shouted Mather. He ran over to the AVLH's weapon pile and lifted an ax. "You're ruining everything!"

Wesley easily disarmed Mather, but by then the Followers, inspired by their leader, decided to join the fray. They grabbed the weapons they had brought, collected over the months, and attacked the rest of the gang as they entered the back yard.

"Oh God," Cordelia moaned.

Lindsey, one hand on the sword Wesley had given him, put his other hand on her shoulder. "Just go get the baby then get to safety. Go!" He shoved her away as one of the Followers rushed him with a weapon.

The frantic mother fought her way through the crowd, toward the sound of her child's wails.

"Stop, sinner!" One man with a sword blocked her way.

"You have my baby!" she shouted angrily.

"She is the child of the light. She does not belong to you anymore."

Rage exploding in her chest, she kicked him in the groin, causing him to fall. While he was down, she ran to her child. "Shhh, Kimmy, Mommy's got you," Cordelia soothed, lifting the infant into her arms. "Anne?" She turned to the picnic table where her love laid, wet and shivering.

The blond was still struggling, trying to escape the ropes. "Help Spike; he needs blood. He's dying."

"I've got him," Megan said grimly, fumbling with the knots binding him. "Spike, can you hear me?"

"Yes," he said weakly, head lolling. " Where's Riley?"

"I don't know; he told me to come get you. Here, drink. You need blood." She offered her wrist.

"Megan," Anne started, but the demon girl interrupted, "It won't hurt me; I can lose blood and it doesn't matter as much as it does for a human. It'll make him stronger faster than human blood."

Cordelia untied Anne then pulled her into a passionate kiss. "Don't do that to me again!" she told Anne, tears rising to her eyes, baby wedged between them. "I've been so worried."

Anne hugged Cordelia, closing her eyes. " Don't worry, Cordy. I promise I won't."

* * *

In Mather's back yard, Riley was trying to get through the yard to Spike. Followers, most of them trying to escape, kept bumping into him, some trying to attack him. It was beginning to become too much. He couldn't breath and his heart was pounding. He had promised to wait for Megan to tell him if his lover was alive, but he couldn't. He had to get to him.

"So, if it isn't Neanderthal psyche teacher of the year."

"Mather. Good to see you again." He blocked a blow from Mather's ax.

"I killed your lover, you know."

"I don't think you did anything. I think you hid behind Ethan Rayne and let him do all the dirty work. And I think your plan has failed."

"It has not. I will rid the earth of scum such as yourself. And I will start with you!" He swung the ax again, hard and fast.

Riley tried to duck, but he was off balance and the world was spinning. With sudden dread, he realized that this was it.

"Back off!" A sword intersected with the ax. Lindsey, his faced twisted with anger, inserted himself between the two men.

"Oh," Mather sneered, "So, it's the great and wise Prophet. How nice of you to grace us with your unholy presence."

Lindsey pushed him away, glancing at Riley. "You ok?"

Riley gasped, falling back against the wall. "I think so."

"You are what is wrong with this world, you know. A sinner,an aberration against God and yet thousands worship you. They think that you are the savior, and you are not. You are nothing! Scum."

"Christ, what are you? Xavier incarnate? You are fighting a losing battle, Mather, because you have picked the wrong side. This is not a war between you and the rest of the world. You are *not* God's chosen. You are one of the community of people on this earth just as I am."

"But I do not set myself up as a god."

"Nor do I. I am a leader, yes, but not a god. I can only try and get people to listen and to stop spreading their hate for one second. We, as humans, need to come together, accept our differences and . . ."

Lindsey, filled with the fire of his calling, never got to finish what he was saying. Behind him, he vaguely heard Riley shout out in warning, saw Mather's eyes gleam with fanatical fire, and feel the movement beside him, but he didn't turn in time. He was knocked to the ground, air flying from his lungs. He dropped his sword.

"The pretender. The man who claims to be the mouth of God," the man attacking Lindsey said, his voice filled with rage. "You dropped something, jerkoff." The man picked up Lindsey's sword.

Suddenly, filled with dread, Lindsey rolled over just in time for the sword to slide into his stomach to the hilt. He gasped, hands automatically grasping the hilt as the zealot stepped back, a smile curling his lips.

"Death to the pretender, enemy of heaven."

*****
Part 33:

A few minutes eariler . . .

"Induna?"

The healer, who was making her way towards the gate, turned. "Sorcerer. It is not unpleasant to see you again."

"What are you doing here?" Wesley demanded, stepping closer.

She shrugged. "I was hired to help Mather. It was nothing personal."

The Sorcerer snorted. "And who hired you to heal Lindsey?"

"Azazel."

"What?" The world seemed to spin around him at this revelation. "Did he hire you to hurt or heal him? Did he set up the attack in the first place?"

"I do not know. Nor do I care. He only asked me to heal him, send strength to you through the bond, and look into the true nature of the Prophet."

"The true nature? Then he knew what Lindsey was?"

"He suspected."

"Did you tell him?"

Induna smiled mysteriously. "I do not reveal everything to even the highest paying client."

"Get out of here," Wesley said suddenly, eyes blazing. "Get out now, don't come near my family again. Do you understand? You too, Ethan," he added to the warlock who was sneaking up behind him. Wesley ^^grabbed^^ him, flipped him over his head, and slammed Ethan into Induna. "Out, now."

Ethan, winded, blinked. "I think it is time for us to go, Induna."

She smiled faintly. "I believe you are correct. Sorcerer." She bowed slightly, then she and Ethan Rayne left the yard.

Wesley turned. There were few Followers left, most having fled when they realized they were out matched. The sorcerer took a deep breath and sent a shock wave around the yard, halting the rest. As he did, he felt the sudden drain of power that told him that Lindsey had been injured. Badly.

He stumbled from the sudden loss of both his partner's energy and his own.

"Wesley!" Riley called weakly.

Rising into the air, Wesley flew to him. Riley, gasping for air, was kneeling by the fallen Prophet, his hand covering Lindsey's. Lindsey, his face twisted in pain, had his eyes closed. Wesley could see that under his eyelids, his love's eyes were moving rapidly.

He kneeled.

"Wesley!" Angel called, running up beside him.

Glowing bright blue, Wesley placed his hands on Lindsey's forehead and over the wound. "It's all right, Angel. He will be all right."

* * *

"Arthur! You forgot my sword, dammit!"

Lindsey started, staring at the man - Kay - yelling at him. For a moment, he didn't answer, trying to figure out what Kay had meant, when, abruptly, it came back to him. Face warming, Lindsey ducked his head, waiting for the blow, and answered, "I'm sorry; I'll go get it."

"Hurry!" the other man snapped.

Lindsey took off, running as fast as he could. A part of his mind awoke, telling him where to go and what to do. The other part was confused.

/"Where the hell am I?" / he asked Wesley, whom he could feel but not see.

/ "Don't you know?"/

The answer floated to him as he passed a building. "I'm in London," he said aloud. "The tournament's today and I forgot to bring Kay's sword."

This was home, but not home. Home was miles away, in another part of England. But Lindsey knew that wasn't right; he wasn't English.

/ "But I grew up in the South." /

/ "Yes, my love, you did."/

/ "Then what's going on?"/

Lindsey suddenly stopped, spying a sword wedged into a stone standing in the middle of a church yard. Deciding it would be faster to take that one, he went inside.

Once he saw the sword up close, he stopped, eyes wide.

/ "Wesley, you gave this sword to me" /

/ "Yes, because it is yours. Take it, my love." / was the soft answer.

Lindsey reached for the sword. He tugged; nothing happened.

"Are you sure you deserve that, Prophet?" Azazel asked, suddenly appearing. He was leaning on the side of the church, smoking a cigarette.

"I . . .I don't know."

/ "Where the hell did you come from?" / Wesley demanded.

Azazel winced. "Stop shouting at me, Wes. When Arthur pulled the sword the first time, I came to see it. When you're in exile, you need all the entertainment you can get. So, I saved up enough energy to escape for the day and witness the birth of a great leader."

/ " Great leader? Him or me?" /

"Him." Azazel turned his attention back to Lindsey. "So, you going to pull it, Arthur? Sure you're ready? It's a big responsibility."

"I know you, don't I?" Lindsey asked, suddenly confused. Everything seemed so strange; he was young, wasn't he? A nobody, and yet . . .yet he remembered his life *now * too, the one with Wesley.

/ "Dammit, Azazel! You're confusing him. Get out of his head!" / said Wesley angrily

The demon opened his mouth to retort, when he disappeared just as suddenly as he had arrive.

/ "Take the sword, Lindsey."/

"How?"

"Don't you remember?" Oz asked, appearing beside him.

"Remember what?"

"How to pull it? It should be simple: steady does it."

Lindsey took a deep breath. " 'Fold your powers together, with the spirit of your mind, and it will come out like butter.'" He shook his head. "I don't have powers. I'm just a boy. No, a man. A prophet. I'm . . . What am I?"

"A man. Your powers are the powers of man. You linked to the greatest sorcerer of your age," Oz replied patiently. "He fell in love with you, he linked with you, he chose you to be with him for all time."

"Wesley?"

"Yes."

Lindsey shook his head. "But you are the greatest sorcerer ever, Merlin."

"Not really; I was a wizard, which is different. I died and when I was reborn, I was no longer the same. In this life, I was a human boy who later became an Oracle. Wesley is the sorcerer. He fell in love with you, which started after he was drawn to you by your power. The power of the king. Take your sword."

Taking a deep breath, Lindsey reached out, took hold of the sword and pulled. It slid out easily.

Suddenly, the scene changed. Lindsey, holding tightly to Excalibur, was jerked off his feet into the whirlwind.

"Wesley!" he screamed, but he had no voice. He had no form; he was nothing.

"Push!" he heard.

Lindsey, enveloped within an intense energy, looked down. His mother was laying on a hospital bed, sweating and panting. A baby was emerging. The energy quivered in excitement around Lindsey, recognizing the child's soul.

It was the King.

The form floated down to look closer. The baby stopped crying and opened his eyes, gazing at the energy field. Safe within the haze, Lindsey gazed down at the child.

/"But that's me"/ he whispered.

/ "I know. Just go with it." / answered Wesley.

The energy floated closer, spreading out. The baby looked at the form above him and opened his mouth wide, answering the question the shapeless form had been asking.

Without hesitation, it plunged inside baby Lindsey, taking refuge in it, burrowing inside and finding a safe place to hide and wait for Galahad to find it.

Lindsey jerked awake. He gasped as the pain from the sword wound took over. Wesley was leaning over him, hands red from blood, was gazing into Lindsey's eyes.

"Do you understand?" he asked.

"No. I don't. . .I'm. . .."

Wesley leaned down. "Shhh. Trust me." He pressed his lips to Lindsey's. "Do you accept me? Am I worthy?" he whispered.

"You are worthy," answered Lindsey automatically.

"Good." He kissed his love again.

A profound peace settled over the Prophet. Warmth, starting from the inside, washed through him. The wound knitted and healed, the pain drifted away, and everything felt good.

Around him, he saw the glow. Dimly, through it, Lindsey could see Azazel, trying to get into them.

"Wesley!" the demon called, trying to step though the glow.

/ "Baby." /

/ "I know, I see him. He's not welcome here."/

/ "I think we need him; I think he's supposed to be part of us now."/

Wesley shook his head, cutting the demon off by erecting a protective barrier. / "I don't care. He hired someone to heal you that almost brought about your death. I don't want to see him for the next hundred years."/

The Prophet pulled back, shocked at Wesley's vindictive tone.

Azazel, hands pressed against the bubble, eyes wide, was staring at them with a stricken and lost expression.

"But, but Wesley . . ." Azazel started.

"I don't want to hear it." Wesley lifted his head from Lindsey, turning around, keeping his arms around his partner. "I don't care why you hired Induna, you could have gotten us all killed. You hired that woman to come in and meddle with our personal affairs, put Cordelia's child, Anne, and Spike in jeopardy, and almost got Lindsey killed. Again!"

"I didn't do it the first time."

"I would have lost the Grail and never would have known," the sorcerer continued as if he hadn't heard. "You are nothing but a nuisance and a bother; I know now why you were exiled in the first place. It wasn't because you sided with the Leviathan, it's because you are annoying. I've got eternity to deal with you; I'm not going to do it now. I want to have time for just me and Lindsey. You are not welcome in that, thanks to your actions. You might have had a chance, but you pushed too hard. Unless it is a dire emergency, do not come near me, do not contact me for the next hundred years unless I call you. Do you understand?"

"Lindsey, please, help me out here," Azazel said pleadingly. "Make him understand, please."

"Wesley. . " Lindsey started, but the Sorcerer squeezed his shoulder warningly.

"Get away, Azazel, away from me and my family before I am forced to take drastic measures to contain you."

The demon when white. " You can't do that. You don't have the power."

Wesley rose, his eyes gleaming brightly, the silver crashing in torrents. "Can't I? You don't think that the Powers gave me the ability to contain you forcefully if I saw fit?" He stretched his arm towards Azazel. "If you like, I can show you, but I warn you, you won't be happy."

Azazel pulled back from the barrier. "No, I believe you. Fine, you don't want me around? No problem." With trembling hands, he pulled out a cigarette and lit it. "I never really wanted you anyway, not as badly as I made out. You and the Prophet just seemed like fun guys; I thought it might be interesting to hang out with you for awhile. Plus, it would have given me a chance to study you further, you know, for future reference. Guess I may have rushed it a tad." He took a puff. "You can have your hundred fucking years. I hope you enjoy them You've gotten everything you've wanted: the Grail, the king, your precious marriage, all in one neat package. Congratulations."

"Get out of here."

Lindsey glanced at Wesley. Beneath the anger, there was hurt, which surprised him; Wesley was shaking a bit as well, but he hid it.

" 'I go, I go - look how I go'," Azazel sneered, once again quoting Shakespear. "Oh, wait. Tell me, Wesley, how do you think your Prophet is going to react when he finds out that he isn't really what he thinks he is? Just a thought. See ya." The demon disappeared.

Wesley sighed and glanced down at Lindsey. "Thank God."

Lindsey was looked back up at him, trying to make sense of Azazel's final words when Angel stepped forward. "Ok, goood. Now, will someone pleas explain to me what the hell is going on?"

"Baby?" the Prophet asked faintly.

Wesley sighed, removed his glasses, and rubbed his eyes wearily. "It's quite simple, really; obvious too, now that I know. You see, Lindsey is the vessel for the Grail."

*****