"Ok, Soulboy, cough it up," Xander said, flopping down on Wil's bed. He'd just gotten out of the shower, and Oz, and was hyper. "What exactly did you find?"

Wil looked over at the bed. He'd wanted to lie down, but it wasn't to be. The vampire had gotten done looking over the materials he'd picked up off the guy he'd rolled and had spent several minutes researching what he'd found on Wesley's computer while the faun was washing slaying grime off. Now Xander was here, which meant no bath for Wil. "Actually, not much."

"Not much?" Xander said hopefully. "As in 'you think this is a fluke vision and we can go home' not much?"

Wil shook his head. "No, more of a 'very small amount of very telling evidence' not much."

"Fuck," Xander said succinctly. "What, exactly, did you find?"

"Lawyers," Wil replied.

The utter silence that filled the room was broken by the sound of Xander thumping his head against the wall. "No."

"No?" Wil echoed.

Xander shook his head vigorously. "No. No, you did not find lawyers. No, you did not find a connection to Wolfram & Hart. No, we're not exchanging our return-trip tickets so that we can stay and investigate the connection to those goddamned lawyers that you just found!"

"They were one-way tickets anyway," Wesley murmured.

Xander's jaw dropped. "WHAT!?"

Wil cocked an eyebrow. "Didn't you pay attention to Cordelia? She got us one-way tickets, figuring that we'd get stuck over here and let them lapse and have to buy more. Two one-way tickets ended up being logical."

Xander slid down on the bed. Wil frowned when he saw the Raphe wipe snot on his bedspread. He was not going to sleep on some demon's snot rag! Xander jerked up when a damp bath towel landed on his face. "What is this for?"

"Wipe your bleedin' nose on that, not on my bed, git," Wil growled. "Look, I know you don't like this, but we can't just leave. There's a reason why we've been sent here."

Wesley nodded. "What, exactly, did you find?"

Wil sat down on Wesley's bed and threw down a small stack of cards and things. "Like I said, not much-but there were some business cards. The name matches the ID and the guy I rolled. Law firm-Easton, Ginnis and Ralls."

"And that's significant how?" Xander asked.

"They're part of Wolfram & Hart," Wil explained. "Significant enough for you?"

Xander paled. "No."

"I believe you've said that several times, Xander," Wesley said snidely.

"I'll say it again," Xander replied. "No."

Wil ignored the boy. "I'll call Angel and the others. Wesley, we're going to need somewhere else to stay in London. We can't live in this hotel for very long." Wesley nodded and stood up.

"I'll use the phone in Xander's room, if he will accompany me," Wesley said firmly, practically ordering the distraught Raphe to go with him. Once he was alone, Wil picked up the telephone and called Angel.

"Angel?" Wil murmured when the phone picked up.

"Wil?" Angel replied. "Is everything ok?"

Wil laughed harshly. "No one died, if that's what you're asking, and the demons have been taken care of."

"What is it?" Angel asked immediately. He could tell something was wrong.

"We can't come home yet."

"Why not?" Angel practically shouted. They'd saved the people and dispatched the demons. Why couldn't they just catch the next flight?

"Wolfram & Hart."

"Fuck."

Wil chuckled again. "Pretty much what we've been saying. Now you see why we can't just leave?"

A long silence answered him.

"Angel?"

"Yeah, I see," Angel whispered. A noise on Angel's end of the line caught their attention. "Cordy just had a vision. I've got to go. Look, call me soon, ok? We'll work this out."

Wil stared at the dead phone for a long time. He wanted to be in L.A. so badly he was almost in tears. Now he didn't even know how long it would be before he could get back there. If he even made it back.

���...�...�...�...���

"Ok, I was wrong."

Wil turned to Xander, who was staring at the kitchen of their new flat. "How so?"

"That hotel we were at? It was great, marvelous, perfect. Can we go back?" The Raphe took another fleeting glance around the tiny apartment. "Please?"

"It's not so bad," Oz murmured quietly. He'd lived in worse-including his van. Ever since Xander had come back into their room, accompanied by Wesley, the werewolf had been working overtime to calm down the excitable seer. He understood Xander's anxiety, and felt quite a bit of it himself. He simply didn't show it.

"I realize that it isn't up to your lofty standards," Wesley said. "However, it is all we can afford at the moment. Besides that, it is excellent camouflage."

"Huh?" Xander grunted, wondering if the dirt he'd just spotted on the counter was moving, or if he was simply hallucinating.

"The Watchers' Council knows I am here-and while they probably won't take any direct action now, if they discover Wil, they will probably try something. They think they know me and could never imagine that I would stay in this neighborhood."

"Why not?" Xander asked, trying to muster the courage to wipe the counter off.

"This slum's a bit below your family, isn't it?" Wil asked the Watcher. Wesley nodded.

"Quite a bit. It's not that bad, though," Wesley replied, looking around. "At least it's furnished."

"If you say so," Xander muttered. He wasn't sure he'd call the sagging, smelly mattresses and beat-up chairs furniture. He was slightly mollified to find that the water ran clear instead of brown, though. It wasn't much, but it was better than nothing.

"So, what exactly are we going to do about this law firm?" Wesley asked, leaning up against one wall.

"Good question," Wil replied, taking a seat at the rickety kitchen table. "Cordelia said that she and Fred were going to work on the connection to Wolfram & Hart as much as they could, but that there was much we would have to do ourselves-which means Wesley for the most part."

"Wesley?" Xander echoed. "Why him?"

"Because I have more connections here," Wesley replied. "And while most of them are now out of reach, a few are not."

"What does that mean?" Xander asked. "Besides the fact that your old Watcher buddies aren't going to help us?"

Wesley smiled slightly. "I was never quite as.staid as Giles would have had you believe," The Watcher replied.

"You bad man, you," Xander admonished, smiling. "What can these contacts get us?"

"I'm not completely sure; it has been several years since I've talked to most of them. If I can find them, and they'll still talk to me, they have good connections inside the nonhuman community here," Wesley said. "So they may be able to tell us if this law firm is a major player in town."

"Oz, will you go with Wesley when he meets his contacts?" Wil asked the werewolf.

"Sure," Oz said, shrugging.

"Why Oz?" Xander inquired.

"You and I are liabilities," Wil replied.

"Not understanding," Xander said sharply. "How are we liabilities?"

"You don't know the city and have a tendency to have visions without warning. I am a rather infamous master vampire that the Watchers' Council would adore to have on their wall, figuratively at least. If you and I stay here, we can take care of any visions you have, and Oz can go with Wesley to make sure nothing happens to him," Wil explained.

"Ok," Xander murmured, a bit mollified. He didn't like being seen as a burden, but he understood the logic. Besides, he of all of them knew the most about Cordelia's research, so he would be the one organizing anything she sent. "If we're gonna be here for very long, we need to get internet access and a few cell phones, though."

"Which you and I will do while Wesley and Oz are out," Wil replied. "Along with some other errands."

���...�...�...�...���

Xander looked around the now-improved apartment and shook his head. They had internet access, three laptops and four cell phones-and no television. Wil had absolutely refused to purchase one, although he had agreed to get a radio instead. The lack of Xander's favorite nonsexual entertainment just made their seedy little home all the stranger. Three layers of curtains hung from ceiling to floor over every window-white facing the street, then two layers of black. It wasn't just for Wil's sake either; no one wanted prying eyes looking into their space.

Sighing softly, the seer retreated into his and Oz's bedroom. It was the smaller of the two in the apartment; he and the werewolf had chosen it so that Wil and Wesley-who wouldn't be sleeping on top of each other-could have a little more space. They'd switched the twin-sized beds from this room with the larger one from the other as well.

Since he was bored to tears and Wil had retreated into his bedroom and closed the door, Xander set about exploring and putting his and Oz's stuff away. They hadn't gotten a chance to do so earlier, since they'd split up to run errands and meet contacts as soon as they'd settled in. He and Wil had been out all night dealing with the electronics stuff; it never ceased to amaze Xander what could be had with a bit of cash-or more than a bit of cash. Getting what they needed with a minimum of documentation had cost a lot-more than they'd wanted to spend. Contrary to what Buffy thought, Angel wasn't a never-ending font of money.

Xander couldn't help but blush when he emptied Oz's toiletry case and placed the ball gag and lube in a bedside drawer. He'd been rather violently opposed to the toy when they'd first gotten it, but in the end had conceded to trying it out. It didn't completely silence him, but if their hotel-mates were to be believed, it did cut down on the noise. Now he and Oz played around with the thing; the werewolf was 'voice training' him so that he could have sex without screaming all the time. It was difficult for the Raphe, however-apparently it was within his nature to sound like that during sex. The challenge was fun, though.

Eventually he ran out of things to do; their belongings were unpacked, he'd scrubbed down every available surface at least twice and he'd checked the computers, phones and radio *again.* With nothing to do and no one to talk to, Xander moved the radio into his bedroom and found a decent station. Then he curled up on the bed, pulled a blanket over his head, and went to sleep.

���...�...�...�...���

Wil stared up at the ceiling. It was what he usually did when he was lonely, tired and needed to think. London didn't bring back many fond memories for the vampire; it was the site of some of his most humiliating and gory moments. As a human he'd been a laughingstock and as a vampire he'd brutalized his way through the city. He wasn't sure if Angel's absence helped or hurt that. One the one hand, he missed his lover; Angel steadied him when the pain and tension of being became too much. On the other hand, though, this was where Angelus had turned him, where the fledgling Wil had received his first lessons in cruelty.

The loss of Angel, rather than the ghost of Angelus, won out, however. Wil glanced over at the phone sitting on his bedside table. He could call Angel now; the vampire would be awake, maybe even waiting to hear from them. He longed to hear that voice, with its almost inaudible but still present Irish lilt. He wondered sometimes why Angel repressed it so; perhaps it reminded him of being Angelus. Wil's own accent didn't bother him, but then again he'd adopted a different accent when he'd become a vampire, and then reverted back to the one he'd grown up using when he'd gotten his soul. Angel, however, hadn't done that.

After a few minutes of weighing the issue, Wil decided against calling Angel. They would have to do so when Wesley and Oz returned anyway. Until they got a good system for e-mail set up, the more expensive telephone calls would have to suffice. Wil hoped it took a long time; he wanted to be able to hear Angel's voice. Then again, he'd always appreciated the written word.

Wil's rationalizations didn't dull the ache, however. He still knew that it would be a long time before he felt Angel beside him again. That pain had been washing over him in thin sheets until it had soaked deep into his bones. Now it sat there, competing with his soul for supremacy. Which could make him hurt the worst? Unlike Angel, Wil didn't care which one came out the victor. His soul wasn't going anywhere and he'd rather bear the ache of being physically separated from Angel for a while than try to survive if Angel was taken away from him forever. Not that he would survive that-if Angel got himself dusted, Wil would walk into the next available sunrise.

All that aside, though, he was taking this trip to London very seriously. The idea of Wolfram & Hart having such a widespread influence bothered him a great deal, at least as much as finding out that he had been unwittingly helping them. Something about the entire situation made Wil think that it was exactly what The Powers That Be had in mind when they'd given him his soul. He wasn't sure exactly what it was yet; it was too early, too soon, to tell.

One thing he did know was that it wasn't going to be averting some sort of major good-evil battle. Despite the unusual occurrences on the Hellmouth, those things weren't very common. Actually, most of the apocalypses on the Hellmouth that Buffy averted never would have succeeded if she'd left them alone-but that really didn't matter. Saving the world was her job, and there wasn't any way for her to tell if one 'let's destroy the world' scheme was more likely than another. No, Old West-type showdowns weren't really Wolfram & Hart's style, despite a few instances in the past. As the group had discussed several times before, it didn't do them any good. To draw from overused clich�s and platitudes, you don't kill the goose that lays the golden eggs-and in this case the goose was the world. It's hard to keep raping and torturing something that you've killed.

Perhaps what The Powers wanted was to scale back Wolfram & Hart's activities-put them in their place, so to speak. Let them continue to control parts of the demonic world, particularly the darker ones. If now wasn't the time for major confrontations, that plan of action made sense. It would keep Wolfram & Hart, and whoever was supporting the firm, from gaining too much power but at the same time keep them from realizing the long-term goals of their enemy. It was risky, but if it worked it would give The Powers a distinct advantage in the final game.

*****
Part 47:

This isn't working. Angel pushed himself out of his chair and switched the monitor of his computer off. Nothing was distracting him from his worries-the nagging feeling that whatever was going on in London was going to be bad. It hadn't helped that Cordelia had expressed similar concerns. He also missed Wil, but there was nothing he could do about it. The blonde vampire had been quite adamant that they expend their energies solving their latest cases. Angel agreed with him and knew that it was the right thing to do, but it didn't make him miss Wil any less. At least they got to chat via e-mail occasionally, now that Cordelia had dragged him kicking and screaming into the twentieth century.

The last batch of information from their London contingent had been troublesome. After more than two weeks on site, Wil and the others had found out that the Wolfram & Hart subsidiary operating there had at least as sophisticated a network as Wolfram & Hart, and more importantly a strong connection to the Watcher's Council. None of the investigators could think of a good reason for the law firm to have an interest in the organization that governed Slayers.

In fact, all that they could think of were very bad things-Wolfram & Hart using the Watcher's Council to direct the Slayer to fight their battles-much like the law firm used Angel and his crew to clean up their messes. If this theory was true, then the main reason why Buffy was in Sunnydale was to either fix something they did wrong or get the place prepared for another nefarious scheme they had in mind. The former was a little less nasty than the latter, but neither option pleased them.

From what Wil had said, Wesley was not taking the news well. Although the ex-Watcher had gotten over his separation from his former employer and even had a bit of dislike for them now, he was uncomfortable with the idea of them being associated with his sworn enemies-mostly, it seemed, because he was afraid that he had somehow benefited from Wolfram & Hart during his training and employment. And now that he wasn't human, Wesley was even more worried that he might have been responsible for the deaths of innocent nonhumans during his tenure as a Watcher.

"Still brooding?"

Angel looked up from where he'd been staring at the floor. Cordelia was leaning against the doorframe, smirking slightly. "I wasn't brooding," Angel lied.

Cordelia rolled her eyes. "Right, and I wear clothes from Wal-Mart." She crossed over to where Angel had stopped to think. "You need to get out, you know? Why don't you come with Fred and I? We're going-"

"Shopping?" Angel interrupted.

"Yes, and you're going with us," Cordelia insisted. "It will get your mind off this stuff." Angel began to shake his head, but she cut him off. "The sun's just set, you've got nothing to do right now, and Gunn's not here to rescue you. Face it, mister; you're at my tender mercies."

"Tender, my ass," Angel muttered as he followed the Seer out of the office.

"I heard that," Cordelia shot back.

This is going to be torture, Angel thought to himself as the trio went down to his car.

���...�...�...�...���

"No."

Fred grinned. "Please?"

Angel shook his head. "There is no way I'm going in there."

Cordelia smirked. "Fine, but you have to go into the next store we get to, and buy whatever I say."

"Deal," Angel said quickly, sure that whatever Cordelia chose wouldn't be as bad as Frederick's. There was no way in hell that he was going into a lingerie shop. The women left him on a bench with a bunch of bags and boxes as they went into the store. Angel looked around, noticing a rather large gathering of men in a similar situation.

"You got off light," One guy said to Angel.

"Yeah, she could have made you buy her a car," Another one said.

"Girlfriends can be a real pain in the ass," A third man added.

"She's not my girlfriend," Angel replied.

"Sure," The first guy said with a smirk.

"Secretary," Angel shot back. "With my research assistant. My boyfriend never gives me this kind of trouble." As he'd predicted, and wanted, the men around him took two steps back and shuffled around nervously. Los Angeles might be a progressive sort of town, but some things still got a reaction.

A few minutes later Cordelia and Fred returned with a pair of miniscule bags, which they stuffed into larger ones in Angel's hands. "Ok, boss. Time to pay the piper."

���...�...�...�...���

Gunn pointedly chose to not comment on Angel's new hair or the pair of steel rings in his ears. Even without being told, he knew that they were Cordelia's doing. "Any new business?"

"Nothing," Angel growled, running his hands through his hair for the thousandth time. He silently cursed himself once again for not just going into the damned lingerie shop. Cordelia had managed to find something worse-a salon. Granted, she'd not gotten much cut off, but the flaming ruby highlights and earrings were, well.not what Angel had been expecting. The Polaroid she'd taken of him hadn't reassured him in the least. He didn't look very professional. It was annoying and different and he wished that Wil was here to tell him it looked ok. Or to offer to fix it. She'd made him promise to leave the rings in for two weeks, and not color his hair for at least five days. As if he could find a color to match his natural shade. She was going to suffer for this.

"Demon spawn, high school, band practice," Cordelia spat out as she and Fred ran into the office. They threw an assortment of knives and swords at Angel and Gunn as they headed for the door.

"Vision, I take it?" Angel commented as they ran down the stairs. Fred waved at Lorne as they made for the stairs.

"Nice hair, Angel!" Lorne called out as they passed.

"Not a word, Lorne," Angel warned.

"Yes, a vision," Cordelia replied. "I know the school."

When they got to the high school, they found a hundred teenagers cowering in the auditorium as a pack of rodent-like demons advanced on them. Fred and Gunn convinced the marching band members to retreat outside while Cordelia and Angel took care of the hungry demons. By the time the werewolf and the vampire had disposed of the bodies, Fred and Gunn had convinced the kids that it had simply been a serious rat infestation. The drum major swore that he was going to sue the school, and most of the band followed his lead. To the kids' surprise, Fred and Gunn just nodded. Hey, they weren't in line to get sued, so who cared?

"Let me guess, rodent infestation?" Angel asked as they piled into the car. There wasn't any use in trying to get paid for that job. The school board wasn't about to shell out money for that kind of work.

"Worked like a charm," Gunn replied.

"And your new hair didn't affect your Batman routine one bit," Cordelia added. "See?"

"Don't start."

���...�...�...�...���

"Um, Angel?"

Angel looked up from his computer. Fred had poked her head into the office, distracting him from paying bills. The job was so much easier when Wesley was around to help him. "What?"

"You've got company. From Sunnydale."

That only meant one thing now. Buffy. Angel closed his eyes and took a deep, unnecessary breath. Why him? He stood up and moved toward the door. "Why?"

"She wouldn't talk to me-she's not very fond of me, you know," Fred replied. "Dawn and Willow are with her."

Angel walked down the stairs. Buffy was standing in the middle of the lobby, peering suspiciously at Caritas. Dawn had Willow in one corner, sitting on a bench. The redhead was still catatonic. "Angel!" Dawn exclaimed when she saw him. Buffy turned around to see the vampire descend the stairs.

"What did you do to your hair?" Buffy squeaked.

"Cordelia," Angel said, as though that one name answered all questions. "Why are you here, Buffy?"

Buffy bristled at the matter-of-fact tone. "I need help."

Angel cocked one eyebrow. "What kind of help?"

"Is Xander here? We could use him in Sunnydale," Buffy non-replied, looking around.

"No, he's working elsewhere right now," Angel answered. Had something occurred in Sunnydale that he'd not been told about? Before he could ask, his cell phone rang. He kept his eyes on Buffy as he answered it. The caller turned out to be one of his Sunnydale contacts. At least now he knew what was going on and why Buffy was standing in his hotel.

"The Initiative's back," Angel said flatly, hanging up the cell phone.

Buffy looked shocked, but quickly recovered. "Not exactly-it's just the soldiers. They've started patrolling and all. No scientists."

"No place for a Slayer?" Angel questioned.

Buffy fidgeted. "Not really. There must be fifty of them-they've got more training now. Riley's leading them."

The fact that Riley was there and Buffy wasn't surprised Angel. He'd have thought that she'd stay where he was. "Did they make you leave?"

It took a long minute for Buffy to respond. "It would have been.difficult to stay."

And now you're here because.Angel thought to himself. It was fairly clear to him why she was in LA. She'd disconnected herself from the Watcher's Council, who would have under normal circumstances directed her. Not that he disagreed-the Watcher's Council was a corrupt organization-but he wasn't prepared to start guiding a Slayer. "Can they protect the Hellmouth?" That was his first concern. If they couldn't, Buffy was going back immediately.

"Yeah," Buffy replied forlornly. Angel winced. It must be hard to be the Slayer and know that someone else can do your job.

"How's Willow?" Angel asked, changing the subject.

"No change," Buffy said. "Still a zombie."

"She's better," Dawn countered angrily. "She responds more now, and she's stopped drooling."

"Ah," Angel murmured. "Why don't you take her upstairs? Fred can show you a spare room." He looked around the lobby. Cordelia and Gunn weren't going to like this one bit.

���...�...�...�...���

"I don't like this one bit," Cordelia growled. She didn't want the Slayer or the witch in her home. Dawn she could stand-the kid had character to spare. But Buffy and Willow? She didn't buy the drooling, brain-dead bit, and the Slayer needed a swift kick in the rear.

"We don't have a choice," Angel countered. "She's good, and we need everything we can get right now. That bad feeling isn't going away."

"I know, believe me I do," Cordelia said. All of them had started getting feelings of impending doom lately-as though they just knew that something big was going to happen, and they were going to get caught up in it. "But does she have to stay here? I mean, with the others gone."

"It will be fine," Angel ground out. "Fred and you can get her up-to-speed on Wolfram & Hart. Despite some of her traditional techniques, she does understand subtlety."

Cordelia looked skeptical, but nodded and walked out. If Angel was that confident that Buffy could do it, fine. It had become apparent to the investigators that the Slayer and her sidekicks, such as they were, weren't going anywhere-with the Hellmouth protected, it wasn't as if they had pressing engagements in Sunnydale. Besides, it would be easier to get Willow treatment in the city.

Once Cordelia was gone, Angel sat back and sighed. He wasn't nearly as confident as Cordelia thought he was. While he knew that Buffy was capable of working in the type of conditions that LA, and Wolfram & Hart, required, that style wasn't her preference. Also, she had other worries-Social Services would watch Dawn much more carefully here, and Willow still needed a keeper. Then again, Angel could use the help and fresh perspective on the Wolfram & Hart angle. And, it might take a little pressure off him-he hadn't realized how much Wil and the others had helped diffuse the stresses of this job until they were gone. Well, since Wil had gone. The extra physical labor didn't bother him; it was the emotional burden that was wearing him down. It was odd, but the same heavy load was almost unbearable now. Before Wil had come along, he'd just shouldered it without comment. Now it was something he hated doing alone. If it was a weakness, so be it. Angel wasn't willing to give up what he had with Wil.

According to the blonde, it wasn't really a weakness at all. Wil had said once that the ability to love was a strength to be fostered and nourished. There were many capable of obsession and lust, but relatively few capable of love-which was what the two vampires felt for each other. Angel still worried occasionally that his involvement with Wil was a distraction, keeping him from his duties, but he couldn't bring himself to stop. Being with Wil made him a better warrior.

Of course, it was a real distraction now. He was supposed to be focusing on Buffy's appearance and Wolfram & Hart, and what was he ruminating about? Wil. With a wry shake of his head, Angel got up to check on the others. It was going to be a long night of arguing with the Slayer and preparing another report for Wil's crew in London. They were delving deeper into the Watcher-Wolfram & Hart connection, using some of Wesley's old snitches for information.

*****
Part 48:

"Bloody hell!"

Xander winced as something fragile shattered against Wil and Wesley's bedroom door. Oz simply raised an eyebrow and backed away from that end of the flat. "Um.who's on the phone?" Xander asked as he joined the werewolf on the far side of the front room.

"Angel," Oz replied. "Bad news, I guess." They both turned as Wesley crept into the flat.

"What on earth was that noise?" Wesley asked as he stepped inside.

"Wil's on the phone with Angel," Xander whispered. "It doesn't sound good."

"No, it certainly doesn't." The three investigators whirled around to see Rupert Giles leaning against the doorframe.

"You followed me!" Wesley hissed at his one-time colleague.

Giles shrugged. "I was in the neighborhood." He stepped into the flat and closed the door. "You've not exactly been invisible."

Wesley winced. "It's difficult to stay out of sight and find out what needs to be known."

"Perhaps," Giles replied. "Why is Spi-er, Wil, breaking objects against his bedroom door?"

"Search me," Xander snorted. "Angel called, Wil closed the door, and then stuff started flying."

Wil chose that moment to throw the phone against the door. Oz knew it was the phone because the low, indecipherable buzzing he knew to be Angel's voice stopped abruptly after the last crash. "He's off the phone now," The werewolf announced. Xander looked over at Oz for a moment before approaching the door.

"Waiting may be a prudent approach at this juncture," Giles remarked. "Your fearless leader doesn't appear to be in a very.positive state of mind."

Xander stopped. "Ok." He turned his attention to Giles. "So, any particular reason why you followed Wesley?"

Giles frowned. "It struck me as unusual to find him in London, when he was formerly a resident of Los Angeles. Rumors that he had been accompanied by American demons piqued my interest."

"That's all?" Wesley murmured. "You got curious?"

"Wouldn't you have been curious if I had just appeared in Los Angeles, asking difficult questions?" Giles shot back.

Xander grinned. "Point. You know, he might know something."

Wesley shook his head. "He's too close to the fold."

"Is he?" Oz inquired. "Are you sure?"

"Too close to the fold?" Giles echoed. "The Watchers' Council? What do they have to do with this?"

Wesley closed his eyes and leaned against the wall. His shoes were killing him, so he kicked them off. Giles' eyes widened briefly at the sight of hooves, before he regained his composure. "Our former employer has everything to do with why we're here."

"How so?" Giles inquired. "They have no real contact with Angel. Actually, they'd much like to see."

"They're being controlled by our enemy number one," Xander explained. "The Slayer might fight big, apocalyptic evil on the Hellmouth, but in Los Angeles we fight the demonic lawyer mafia-who's expanded to London."

"Actually, the Slayer isn't in Sunnydale anymore," Wil said from the doorway.

"WHAT!" Xander, Wesley and Giles shouted in unison. The blonde vampire slumped against the doorframe, looking haggard and drawn.

"Buffy is in Los Angeles, at the Hyperion."

Suddenly, Wil's tantrum made sense-to everyone. "Um.why?" Xander asked tentatively.

Wil grinned ruefully. "It seems that Mr. Finn and his associates have chosen to return to Sunnydale, to resume patrolling the Hellmouth. No mad scientists, just a hundred or so trained soldiers. They didn't want the Slayer's interference, so she packed up Dawn and Willow and showed up on Angel's doorstep."

"Oh shit," Xander whispered. "So."

"So now she's learning all about Wolfram & Hart," Wil replied.

"Is that a good idea? I mean, she's not really good at." Xander began.

"What else are they going to do with her?" Wil asked. "She needs something to fight, and the Watchers aren't watching out for her anymore."

"All she has to do is ask, and they'll help her again," Giles said.

Wil snorted. "Right over a cliff. If the Watchers knew that she was going to be fighting Wolfram & Hart, they'd either recall her or kill her."

"Why?" Giles asked.

"Remember the big evil that is controlling The Council? That's Wolfram & Hart, and their London branch," Xander supplied.

Giles shook his head. "I understand that you don't have the best relationship with The Council, but this idea of it being infiltrated by evil is simply-" Giles was cut off by Wesley.

"I don't like it either, but it's the truth. We have proof-a lot of it. It goes all the way to the top. Wolfram & Hart were responsible for placing Buffy at the Hellmouth," Wesley replied.

"But her family simply moved there. We had nothing to do with it," Giles protested.

"Actually, the law firm manipulated Joyce to get her to move to Sunnydale. The Hellmouth was causing them problems, since it was uncontained. The Mayor was a thorn in their sides," Wesley replied calmly.

"I want to see this proof," Giles insisted. Wesley nodded and gestured to Xander to boot up a computer. Meanwhile, Oz went to the kitchen to warm up some blood for Wil. Once it was ready, he waited for the vampire next to Wil's door. The blonde sighed and followed him inside.

"Thanks," Wil said as he sat down on the bed and sipped his meal. Oz nodded and began to pick up the debris on the floor. "He says that nothing's happened."

"You doubt him?" Oz asked as he cleaned.

"Not him, but her? She's." Wil murmured over his blood. It's just too convenient. We're at half-strength, weak, and all of a sudden the love of his life shows up on his doorstep."

"Did it?" Oz inquired. Wil looked sharply at him, but said nothing. The werewolf remained silent as he finished up cleaning. Wil stared at the floor, grumbling quietly. He knew he was overreacting, but what else could he do? Buffy was there, with Angel. It didn't matter what they'd said to each other in the past; she was there now, available, willing.and she knew that they could get together without any soul-endangering consequences. It sent chills down his spine and made his unbeating heart quiver in fear. He couldn't lose Angel. He just couldn't.

"Remember what you told Angel." Wil frowned at Oz.

"What?"

Oz sighed. "About distractions, trust, and quests for redemption?" He didn't like talking this much to Wil about such things. Actually, the only people he'd ever talked to much were Willow, Devon and Xander. Devon and Xander were the only ones he had ever really opened up to.

Wil nodded. He'd been the one to tell Angel that what they had wasn't a temptation to wander from their quests, but instead a way to make sure they didn't-both of them wanted the same thing, both out of life and out of each other. He had to have a little more faith in his Sire. "What about Giles?" He asked, changing the subject.

Oz shrugged. "Ask Wesley." He wasn't sure about the ex-Watcher. Gunn and Fred had informed them when they'd returned to LA that Giles had gone back to England, again, hopefully for a permanent stay. The older man felt that his presence wasn't good for the Slayer-after all, she'd expressed repeatedly that she wanted to grow up and be treated like an adult. How was that possible when someone was always around to be the responsible one? Now Giles was, if the situation was as Oz saw it, thick into their problems. Maybe that was a good thing-he was the best of his kind, and reliable help was always appreciated.

���...�...�...�...���

When Wil returned to the main room, he found Giles staring at a computer screen, which had a scrolling marquee screensaver proclaiming the sexual prowess of Raphe demons. "Well?" He asked Wesley and Xander.

"He took it rather well, all things considered," Wesley replied quietly, sipping a cup of tea. It had only taken the better part of eight hours to run through all the information that Cordelia and her small army of researchers had compiled, along with the new information that the London gang had acquired. He and Xander had also filled Giles in on the general climate of the LA situation and group dynamics-it seemed like a good thing to do if Giles was going to be working with them very much. After they'd finished, the older Watcher had fallen silent, sitting in a chair facing the computer as though pondering all the ills of the universe.

"How long has he been sitting like that?" Wil asked. Giles really didn't look that good; he was a bit pale and a deep worry line had appeared on his forehead.

"Oh, about an hour now. He did start breathing fairly quickly, and we've only had to provide him with one spiked cup of tea," Xander answered. "I'd have thought he'd would have wanted more than that."

"You have execrable taste in whisky," Giles murmured. "Else I would have just taken the bottle."

"Ah," Wil murmured. Well, Xander did have bad taste in whisky, and the Raphe'd been the one to purchase it. "So."

"How did this go so long unnoticed?" Giles whispered. "My god, this could span decades, generations. All those Slayers."

Xander looked confused. "Lost me there, G-man."

"Don't call me that," Giles said absently. "If this law firm has a significant influence on the Council, then they could have been the ones to place several Slayers in.difficult situations. Ones that cost them their lives. Each Slayer that is called must be trained-the more frequently that occurs, the less effective the Slayers are, since they never reach proficiency."

Realization hit Xander. "So they're trying to keep the Slayers on the amateur level, and when Buffy messed up that plan, they kept her isolated on the Hellmouth."

"Habitrail," Oz summarized.

Wesley frowned. "Habitrail?"

"Yeah-the hamster tube and box system. Keep the Slayer entertained on the Hellmouth while you watch and laugh at her. Like a fishbowl or a cage at the zoo," Xander said disgustedly.

"So what do we do about it?" Wil inquired.

"I have no idea," Giles said softly. "None at all."

The five men sat in the main room, staring at the walls, for another hour or so. Each of them could think of several alternatives, none of them the least bit pleasant. They could try an all-out assault, but that wouldn't do much but get them killed. They could just drop the whole thing, but then they wouldn't be able to live with themselves. The options continued on and on.

"Perhaps that whisky wasn't so bad after all," Giles commented eventually. He poured himself a teacup full and swallowed it in two gulps, not even bothering to grimace.

"We need the others," Wil said firmly. He had the beginnings of an idea that might work, but it was going to take more than the five of them to carry out.

Wil dialed Angel's cell phone and hoped that he had the blasted thing turned on. After a few rings, he heard the curt tones of his lover. "Angel?" He waited for the dark vampire to respond. "We need to talk."

���...�...�...�...���

"They're going to see what they can do," Wil said as he hung up the phone. "There are some logistical things to work out."

"Like who's going to take care of any LA-based visions Cordelia has while she's over here?" Xander inquired.

"Buffy could do that," Wesley murmured. "Although it would be difficult for her."

"Angel said that Lorne was quite taken with the Slayer," Wil said in reply. "He's organizing Willow's treatment, and is watching Dawn when she's not in school."

"I suppose he could find her some backup muscle," Xander stated. "And he's not bad in a fight himself. When are they going to get back to us?"

"Whenever Angel's discussed it with Cordelia, Gunn, Fred, Buffy and the others," Wil answered. "It will probably be a few days."

"So, what's your idea?" Xander asked. "I know you have one."

Wil smirked. "Coup."

Giles' eyebrows rose into his hairline. "Care to explain?"

"We can't fight this battle-a bunch of demons and an ex-Watcher? The Council would have a field day. What we need to do is 'foment a rebellion.' Specifically, we need to cause an upheaval in the Council, so that the loyalists run out the established, but morally weaker, leaders," Wil explained.

"Ah. And how are we supposed to accomplish that?" Wesley inquired.

"Information," Wil snapped lightly. "Which is, if the media can be believed, power. Feed the young bucks information-good, solid information. Niggling doubts, if you will. Things that expose their superiors as compromised. Things that show how Easton, Ginnis & Ralls are manipulating them. Stuff that causes revolution."

"That's going to take some serious work," Xander commented.

"Thus the need for reinforcements," Giles said. "Actually, I may have a colleague or two who would be willing to help," He added quietly.

"Didn't Ethan Rayne escape from that military prison?" Xander asked with a shudder. "That guy is seriously.well, you weren't talking about him, were you?"

Giles just smirked. Oz shuddered.

"Are you sure getting him involved is a good idea?" Wesley inquired. "He's dangerous and can't be trusted."

"I'm well aware of that," Giles replied smoothly. "And I do not recall mentioning any newfound trust in Mr. Rayne."

"Ah," Wil murmured. "We will need to find a larger flat. Either that or start sharing beds."

"I'll go get a paper," Xander responded, running for the door. There was no way he was sharing his bed with anyone but Oz. Ever.

"Do you think this plan could really work?" Wesley asked Wil once the door had closed behind Xander.

"It's going to take a lot of work," Wil replied seriously, looking over at Giles and Oz. "Giles, you and Wesley are going to have to work on your contacts. No one can know that it's us feeding the information. Oz, you'll be working with the others at gathering info and moving it around."

"What about you and Angel?" Wesley asked.

Wil grimaced. "We won't be out much at all-we're too easily recognized. Don't worry, though, we'll stay busy with this project too-Xander will probably start having visions again, and who knows? Cordelia may begin to see things in London instead of LA."

"That would be far too simple," Giles replied softly. "Besides, that would leave Buffy with nothing to do in Los Angeles, and nothing is more dangerous than a bored Slayer."

The very thought of a bored Buffy made everyone quiver in fear. She could destroy all they'd managed to accomplish with a few well-placed kicks. "Actually, I think that Angel has managed to impress upon her the importance of staying out of Wolfram & Hart's way-he told her about how they could take away Dawn, frame her for murder, and commit Willow, all in one afternoon."

"That would certainly keep her in line," Giles said.

"I hope so," Wil whispered.

*****
Part 49:

"So what was that all about?" Cordelia asked as Angel returned to the office. She and Fred had gotten more than a bit worried when Angel had left during his conversation with Wil. They'd known it was the blonde when they saw Angel's face light up when he answered the phone. Then he'd begun to scowl.

"Wil thinks that we should join him in London." Angel sat down heavily and closed his eyes. Maybe the girls would hold off on questioning him for just a minute.

As it happened, they did. Cordelia looked uncomfortably over at Fred, who was frowning. "Why?" The physicist asked after a long pause.

"He's got a plan to get the Watchers' Council out of the control of Easton, Ginnis & Ralls, but it's going to take more than just their abilities. They need us."

"This wouldn't have anything to do with Her Excellence the Slayer's appearance, would it?" Cordelia inquired. If their help was needed in London, that was fine, but she didn't want one of her bosses making a bad decision based on jealousy. She was sure that Wil wasn't pleased with Buffy's presence-and he shouldn't be! The Slayer had wasted no time in 'testing the waters,' flirting with Angel and making pointed references to their times together. Angel hadn't responded, but he wasn't comfortable.

Angel shook his head. "No, it's that the situation there is critical, while everything here is under control. If the Watchers' Council isn't fixed, things could get very bad very quickly."

"Who's going to take care of Los Angeles?" Cordelia asked. "The Powers might have changed Xander's channel to a London station, but I'm still getting Southern California."

"We can call them in to Buffy. Between her and Lorne, things should be ok," Angel said.

"OK?" Cordelia shouted. "You want to leave our job to her? She'll end the world."

"Actually, she probably won't," Fred inserted. "Granted, she's rough around the edges, but with Lorne's guidance, and taking care of Dawn and Willow to fill up her time, she should be fine. He can help her with the investigation business-she's going to need the income. And, he'll know how to keep her out of Lilah's sights. If all she does is mundane stuff and Cordelia's visions, she shouldn't get into trouble."

"What if Her Highness doesn't want to do this?" Cordelia asked.

Angel shrugged. "She won't have much choice. There's nowhere else for her to go, and I think that, in all honesty, she'd like to see the Watchers straightened out. They should be the ones guiding her-not us. She needs the structure; most of her problems stem from not having it."

"And Gunn?" Cordelia pressed.

"I'd prefer he come with us, but if he needs to stay here, it won't be an issue," Angel said. "But his help would be invaluable."

"I'll see what I can do," Cordelia replied. "But you need to discuss this with Buffy, Dawn, and Lorne. If they don't like it, we stay here."

���...�...�...�...���

"What?"

Angel looked away from Buffy. "We need to go, Buffy. There isn't any other choice."

"And you want me, and whatever the green thing can come up with, to just take care of Los Angeles-alone?" She didn't like this, not one bit. How dare he use her as a substitute? He probably wasn't even needed over there-he just wanted to be closer to 'Wil'. "I don't think so, Angel."

"Why not? You've been aching for something to do," He winced slightly at the double entendre, "And this is a perfect opportunity. Besides, you know as well as I do that we don't work well together," Which was true; ever since she'd arrived they'd been like oil and water, "So it's best, don't you think? Willow is already improving, and you can't help but notice that Dawn actually likes school here."

Buffy scowled. All of that was true. "What about Wolfram & Hart, and Cordelia's visions?"

"We can call you with the details if she has one, and we've given you everything we know about Wolfram & Hart. Lorne can help you with the details-how to stay out of their sights, keep Dawn safe, and the like. Honestly, Buffy, if you don't try to take them on directly, they shouldn't bother you."

The Slayer stayed silent for several minutes. She still didn't like the situation; however, Angel made a convincing case. The girl and the Slayer warred briefly, but the Slayer won. It would be best for her to stay here and fight in Los Angeles while he left for London. "Leave me contact information and access to money. I'll try to run this investigation firm of yours, but it might not fly. I'm not the 'help the helpless' type."

Angel nodded. He hadn't exactly expected her to, although Lorne would probably try hard to change that. "I've got everything ready, so don't worry."

Buffy rolled her eyes. "I can take care of myself, you know."

Angel left her with that. He still had a lot to do, not the least of which was packing and getting everything organized here. Wil had promised to get everything ready on their end, so at least he didn't have to worry about that. He couldn't help but be excited about the relocation; he hadn't seen the blonde in many weeks and it was driving him crazy. He knew that Fred was feeling the same way about Wesley.

The dark vampire was sorting through his clothes, trying to remember just how miserable London weather was, when Lorne sauntered in. "Well, lover boy, you finally found a way to get over to London, hmm?"

"Shut up," Angel said laughingly. "Do you know how much I hate London?"

"Why? Isn't that where you found Wil-the first time?" Lorne inquired.

"It rains a lot, it's foggy and damp, and I murdered thousands of people there," Angel replied. "Not exactly my most fond memories."

Lorne waved him off. "You'll love it. Besides, it puts you several thousand miles from your favorite ex-girlfriend."

"Are you sure you don't mind this?" Angel asked, referring to the substantial role that Lorne would play once he was gone.

"Oh, I'm going to enjoy every minute of it," Lorne said. "Don't you worry one bit."

"What? Me worry?" Angel shot back. "Never."

"Pull the other one. Actually, I came up here for a reason." Lorne reached into one pocket, retrieving a floppy disk. "Your investigators might find that handy."

Angel took the diskette. "What is this?"

Lorne shrugged. "Some old, and not so old, contacts I've got in London. I would've given them sooner, but I'm not sure they'll help."

"Thanks," Angel murmured. It was more than he'd expected. After all, Lorne wasn't beholden to help them. "Are you sure-"

"Yes, and stop asking," Lorne said, cutting him off. "I've got to go back to the club-business, business, business. Stop by before your flight, though."

"Of course."

���...�...�...�...���

"Could you please remove your shoes?"

Angel stared at the elderly lady, who was brandishing a plastic wand with a round, flat head. "Excuse me?"

"Have a seat over there and take off your shoes." The security guard spoke slowly, in case Angel was a bit slow. Angel looked over at the folding chair and grimaced. How did this happen? Fred's spell was supposed to whisk them through this kind of hassle. Now he was supposed to remove his shoes in an airport so that some old lady could sniff around them? He hurried to comply when he saw her look over at a largish man with a gun, ignoring Cordelia's stifled laughter.

By the time the foursome finally reached their seats, no one was in a good mood anymore. Angel eased into the center seat, letting Fred have the window. He hoped that no one had purchased the aisle seat-with the luck he was having, it would be someone very talkative.

"Hi!"

Angel looked up. A short, portly gentleman with a wispy comb-over was stashing a huge bag in the overhead compartment. Angel winced at the sweat stains that covered the guy's old, ratty dress shirt, which was open at the neck, displaying quite a few gold chains and a plethora of chest hair. Cheap polyester pants and vinyl deck shoes finished the outfit. "Hi," He replied shortly, hoping the guy was maybe, just maybe, sitting on the other side of the plane.

No such luck. The passenger sat down right next to Angel, letting the vampire get his first whiff of strong, musty cologne-was that patchouli? Angel barely restrained the urge to sneeze as the man reached around, looking for his seatbelt. The vampire jumped when he felt the guy's hand on his ass, probing with curious fingers.

"Heh, sorry. Looking for the lap belt," The man joked as Angel glared at him. This was going to be torture-a cross-country flight with this guy?

Fred looked across Angel at the man and paled. "Angel?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm so sorry," She said quietly. "Do you want something to drink?" Angel knew what she was talking about-they'd packed two pints of blood for him to drink while traveling.

"In New York," He replied. It would be easier to feed there, when he didn't have a.neighbor looking over his shoulder. The man managed to feel him up again while trying to figure out how to use his radio. Only a menacing growl from Angel stopped him.

"I'm Gene," the guy said as he finally settled down. "You fly much?"

"No," Angel said.

"First time?" Gene inquired with a leer.

"No," Angel replied shortly.

"Oh. I do this all the time. It's a great way to meet people. Where are you going?"

"Siberia," Angel replied. "We're on our honeymoon." Fred looked up quickly and smiled. She didn't care if Angel used her as an excuse to end conversation with the odious little man. His cologne was giving her a headache.

"Really? I've never been to Siberia. My first wife and I got married in Vegas. We went to Cancun for the um.consummation," Gene said.

"How nice," Angel said absently. The flight attendant began the safety briefing and he gave her all of his attention, as though she was the most enthralling thing he'd ever seen. It did keep Gene quiet; the first time he tried to interrupt Angel sent him a death-glare.

By the time they were in the air, though, Gene was back to regaling Angel with stories of his sexual escapades, both in the air and on the ground. The dark vampire didn't care who Gene had done, how and where. He just wanted the guy to shut up. It didn't help any that the flight attendants kept giving him more alcohol, although Angel was sure that he'd more than reached his limit. It wasn't until after the sixth drink that he realized that they were doing it to keep the guy's hands off them. He was a real perv.

When they landed in New York, Angel pulled Fred along with him as they ran through the terminal and toward a bathroom. He could hear Gene yelling for him-well, for the guy in 14b, since Angel had never given the guy his name. He pushed Fred into the men's room and down to the handicapped stall. Once inside, he propped her on top of the toilet and leaned against the wall. "We'll find Cordelia and Gunn in a minute, ok?"

Fred just nodded silently and began to rummage through her carry-on luggage. She extracted two bags of blood and handed them to Angel. The vampire drank them cold, grimacing at the taste. A few minutes later, Angel dragged the girl back out of the restroom and went off in search of their friends. It wasn't difficult to track them, since they were heading for the same place that Angel and Fred were.

"Where did you guys go?" Cordelia asked as they sat down in the terminal.

"Bathroom," Angel said.

"He had an emergency," Fred added.

Gunn frowned. "But I thought that you guys didn't have to."

"Don't ask," Angel said. "Just don't ask."

���...�...�...�...���

"Fruits? Vegetables?"

"No and no," Angel replied tiredly. They'd done this in LA, but apparently, they had to answer the same damned questions again in London.

"Controlled substances? Illegal information?"

"No and no," Angel continued, wondering idly how many people actually said yes to those questions.

"Has anyone that you do not know been in contact with or possession of your luggage prior to check-in?"

"No," Angel replied.

"What do you plan to do during your visit to London?"

Kill things. "Sightseeing."

"How long do you plan to stay?"

"Two weeks." There wasn't any reason to tell the guy that he'd be staying indefinitely.

Angel gathered his luggage and met up with the others. At least this time he hadn't gotten the short end of the stick; he'd kind of figured he'd get strip searched, considering his past luck. They pulled themselves together and made for the exit, hoping that their friends would still be there to pick them up. They'd been delayed for three hours in New York. That had caused a few problems, but nothing drastic-they hoped.

Wesley was the only one waiting for them when they made it to the main entrance to the airport. The sun was up-nothing that Angel didn't know already, but it did explain why Wil wasn't with them. Fred kept her greeting to a quick hug as the four travelers piled their luggage into the car and squeezed themselves inside. It wasn't built for five adults and a lot of baggage, but they managed. Angel was given a a spot across the back seat, over both Cordelia and Gunn's laps, so that he could be covered with a blanket.

Even with that covering him, Angel could tell that Wesley was racing through the streets; well, racing as best as he could in London traffic. Cordelia was grilling the ex-Watcher about the goings-on in London; to Angel's surprise the conversation was focused on work and not fashion. Then again, Delia wasn't really as shallow as she made herself appear to be.

"Welcome home," Wesley said as he pulled into an underground garage. Angel was grateful for the cover and maneuvered himself out of the car, trying not to hurt anyone in the process.

"We need two of those," Angel muttered as he started to unload luggage.

"Yes," Wesley replied. "That takes a bit of time."

"So, where is this 'flat?'" Cordelia asked as they went for the elevator.

"Four," Wesley replied as the elevator door closed. Cordelia pushed the button and the thing lurched to life. "And yes, it's safe."

The hallway on the fourth floor was dim and windowless. They followed Wesley to the very last door, which was painted a singularly unattractive pea green. "Well, I'll never forget which one's ours," Cordelia muttered as Wesley struggled with the lock.

As soon as the door opened, Angel knew that Wil was there. He could smell the vampire-a soft, familiar scent in the air. He followed the others inside, looking around desperately. He'd been told by Wesley that this was the 'new' flat-a larger one they'd procured in anticipation of their arrival. His perusal turned up a great many things-blackout curtains over the windows, old but usable furniture scattered about, and no Wil.

"Angel."

The dark vampire turned his head to the left. Wil was lounged against a doorframe, looking sleep-tousled and drowsy. "Wil."

Cordelia rolled her eyes and set down her luggage. She went into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator, knowing that there would be a good supply of blood there. Once she'd found it, she searched for a couple of mugs. When she returned with the warm blood, Angel and Wil were still staring at each other. "Hello, bloodsuckers. Fresh, hot food. Take or I throw away."

Both vampires were familiar with the threat and took the proffered mugs. Wil reached for one of Angel's bags and the dark vampire picked up the others, following Wil down the hallway. "Bad as this sounds, they've got the right idea. I'm ready for some sleep," Gunn declared. The others nodded their agreement. Wesley helped Fred carry her bags and pointed out Gunn and Cordelia's room as they passed.

"That one is Xander and Oz's room," Wesley warned. "But they're not here right now."

"Where are they?" Fred inquired.

"Collecting information. They should be back for supper," Wesley replied.

���...�...�...�...���

"How was your flight?" Wil asked as he stored Angel's baggage out of the way. After that was done he sat on the edge of the bed to sip his meal-it was hot now, but would be disgustingly cold later.

"Bad," Angel replied, still staring at Wil. "How are you?"

"Better."

Angel finished off his blood and set the mug aside. "I missed you."

"Missed you too," Wil whispered. "It's lonely here."

"Still?" Angel asked, toeing his shoes off.

Wil stood up and set his mug on the dresser. "No." Before he could turn back around, Angel grabbed him, pulling him close.

"Good." Angel buried his face in Wil's neck, relishing the feel of having the blonde so close, in the flesh. Wil moaned softly and melted against him.

"You're tired," Wil stated. It was obvious that Angel hadn't slept during any of his flights. While he would like nothing more than to crawl over Angel and sink inside him, he knew that sleep was more important.

Angel nodded reluctantly. "Yeah. I should sleep." Wil pushed himself away and turned around to help Angel undress. Angel pulled Wil into the bed with him as the pair laid down to sleep the day away. The last thing Angel head was the now-traditional 'Sire' whispered against his shoulder as Wil drifted off.

*****