"So what's the game plan, oh fearless leader?" Xander asked as he flopped down on the bed next to Oz. The eight investigators-in-exile were gathered in one of their hotel rooms, at the request of Angel. He'd waited until he was sure all of the werewolves were recovered from the full moon before trying to organize the group.

"We can't stay here forever," Angel started slowly. At Wil's reassuring nod, he continued. "It's too close to Los Angeles. People will eventually recognize us."

"We've been lucky, haven't we?" Fred asked quietly.

"Very," Angel agreed. "But just moving won't work-not forever."

"We aren't running," Gunn said flatly. "At least, I'm not."

"I'm not saying we should," Angel shot back. "We just need to go somewhere else."

"And do what?" Cordelia asked. "Wait for me and Xander to have more visions to e-mail to Buffy?"

Angel sighed. "For now? Yes, that's exactly what we should do." He closed his eyes briefly, trying to muster some strength. "Disappearing is the best thing we can do now-it will give us an opportunity to go up against Wolfram & Hart."

Gunn cocked an eyebrow speculatively. "You know you're gonna have to explain that, because I really don't follow."

"See, the last approach we took didn't work," Angel explained. "We tried to be low-key, to not attack directly. What did it get us?"

"So this is better?" Gunn snapped. Cordelia frowned at him and shook her head warningly.

"They think we're dead," Angel reminded the new werewolf. "Now we can go after all the other parts of the firm-those scholarships, partnerships, and subsidiaries that Cordelia dug up."

"While we're on the run?" Xander asked. "How?"

"We settle down somewhere for a while, don't play the superhero, and attack," Wil replied. "Not every city has the concentration of supernatural crap that Sunnydale, Los Angeles and London have. We move into some nowhere town and start to dismantle their network, piece by piece."

"It would take a long time. Not days, or weeks. We're looking at years," Angel warned. "But it would work-think about it. If we undermine their recruiting procedures, they're going to have problems filling their ranks. Considering how many of their lawyers they let die off."

"Why didn't we just do this the first time?" Cordelia asked. "When we found this stuff out?"

"Because back then we had lives," Fred snapped. "We thought that just instigating the rift between the Watchers' Council and Wolfram & Hart would keep us out of the line of fire."

"But it didn't," Angel added. "Now there's nothing to protect. Even now the last ties between us and Buffy-and Dawn and Willow-are being severed. They're changing the name of the office, and Lorne's taken over the hotel. We don't exist any more."

"And if they do track us down, we just move," Xander murmured. "It sounds far-fetched, if you ask me. I mean, we don't have that many resources. Money will be tight."

"We'll have to get jobs," Wil agreed. "But then again, we'll be living frugally."

"And still sending all our visions to Buffy?" Cordelia inquired.

"Unless The Powers see fit to shift their focus," Angel said.

"They didn't bother when we were in London," Xander muttered. "Probably make us keep seeing UCLA students running around like idiots."

"Well?" Angel asked the group. "If there are other ideas, speak them now. We have to do something."

"I'm not sure it's a good idea," Gunn began slowly. "But I also don't see any other options. We're dead-legally dead. well, those of us who were alive to begin with. Cordy, Fred, Xander, Oz, Wes and I have had funerals. We don't exist anymore."

"We can take care of that," Angel replied.

"Do you really think we can take them down?" Fred asked Angel.

"Eventually, yes," Angel said. "It might be a long time down the road. But if we get them weak enough, Buffy won't have to deal with as much of their power plays."

"And one day we can come back and finish them off?" Xander inquired. "What if someone else tries to fill the void?"

"We can't worry about that," Wil said sharply. "We're not trying to bleach out all the evil in the world. As Wolfram & Hart crumble, other groups *will* come in to take their place. What we're hoping is that those groups will be smaller, more specialized."

"What they should be in the first place," Angel continued. "It's unreasonable to think that there will never be organized groups out there. But it's one thing to fight against a Master vampire, or a well-established clan of demons. They aren't the same as Wolfram & Hart."

"And those other groups help us, in a way," Wil added. "No, they're not good, but they do a great job of internal control."

"Which is what is needed anyway," Angel finished. "In a lot of ways, what Wolfram & Hart is doing is like the Hellmouth. In any other city, in any other time, the Slayer would be focused on the few vampires and demons that were uncontrolled."

"Like you and Spike were way back when," Fred interjected.

"Yes. But on the Hellmouth, she's had to fight nonstop, all the time, because there was too much evil concentrated there," Angel explained.

"So getting rid of Wolfram & Hart is like closing up the Hellmouth?" Xander asked. "I can get behind that."

"But the gradual way is better-it will let those other groups build up their own presence, keeping all hell from breaking loose," Wil said.

"It's worth a try," Oz murmured.

"I agree," Xander said. "We should give it a shot."

"I'm in," Cordelia added.

"Me too," Fred stated.

"As am I," Wesley murmured.

"Yeah, fine," Gunn muttered.

"Then we leave in the morning," Angel said.

"Where are we going?" Xander asked. "For our first stop on the road trip of redemption?"

"Very funny," Angel growled. "And we're leaving tomorrow for." He looked down at the paper Wil handed him. "You've got to be kidding."

Wil looked up earnestly. "No, I'm not kidding. It's the perfect place to start off. Compared to where we've been lately, it's downright serene."

Angel shook his head sadly. There was no way he was going to be able to sell this. "Xander, you and Gunn have the first shifts driving."

"Where?" Xander demanded. "Tell me, Angel."

The dark vampire cringed. "Indianapolis."

Wil swore he heard water trickling down a drain in western China. "As in the middle of nowhere, Indiana?" Cordelia hissed. "You want us to fight the world's greatest evil from bumfuck nowhere?"

"It's not nowhere," Wil defended. "Quite a nice-sized town, all things considered. Actually, it's perfect."

"Perfect?" Gunn repeated slowly. "Perfect?"

"There's nothing the least bit.well, look-it's just that there's nothing to draw anyone's attention to Indianapolis," Wil tried to explain. "Other than that car race."

"And some museums," Oz added helpfully. "It's not that bad."

"You've been there?" Xander asked incredulously.

"Briefly. I've been to worse."

"Where?" The Raphe pressed.

"Lodi."

"Point," Xander replied. "There is worse."

"Please, please tell me that we do get to go somewhere at least marginally cool-eventually?" Cordelia pleaded.

Angel smiled slightly. "After we see how things go in Indianapolis, we'll decide where to go from there. But yeah, it can be somewhere more."

"Palatable?" Wil tried.

"Good enough," Angel answered.

���...�...�...�...���

"Hey, gorgeous! Guess what?" Lorne said as he waltzed into her office. "The new signs just arrived!" He brandished a stack of signage for the investigative firm. "Out with the old, in with 'Eos Investigative Services'!"

"They're gone," Buffy murmured, staring at the computer screen. Lorne saw her distress and set the signs aside. He walked around the desk and read over her shoulder.

"So they started. whatever it is they're doing," Lorne said, mostly to himself. "No clue about where they're going?"

"No," Buffy replied. "And Cordy's set the e-mails to self-destruct. Right about now, actually." As if on cue, the e-mail disappeared. "They'll keep sending visions, but not much else."

"That's it?" Lorne said sharply. "No other help?"

"I gathered that whatever they're planning is best left to them," Buffy replied. "I slay, they. . . do whatever."

Lorne huffed. "If you say so. I just hope they know what they're doing."

Buffy looked up with worried eyes. "They do. I just don't know that I'm ready to have all this for so long."

"So long?" Lorne echoed.

"They're not coming back for a long time. A very long time. Years," Buffy explained. "Long enough that Angel told me how to access some money for Dawn's college education. And graduate school."

"Oh." Lorne fell silent. That was a long time. "I'm sure it'll-"

"Work out?" Buffy said harshly. "It will. I just hope I'm around to see it. I mean, by that time, Faith will be out of prison and I should be dead. Slayers don't live this long."

"You won't be alone," Lorne reassured her. "Dawn, Willow and I are here." He thought for a minute. "And if that Council of yours really is cleaning itself up, they may be able to lend a hand."

"Maybe, but I'm not putting any money on it," Buffy said. "Could you do something for me, Lorne?"

"Anything, sugar," He said quickly.

"Could you keep those lookouts on the Hellmouth for a while?" Buffy asked. Yeah, Riley and his wife and that troop of muscle-bound idiots had kept things in line for now, but that meant nothing over the long haul.

"Of course," He promised. "Now, may I interest you in a drink, and perhaps an evening's entertainment?"

Buffy grinned. "Sure. Nothing like watching demons make fools of themselves to cheer you up."

"Very true. If you'll fetch Willow and that sister of yours, I shall arrange a table near the front," Lorne said as he rushed out to open the club.

���...�...�...�...���

"Oz, you got the directions?" Xander murmured sleepily as he poured himself into the driver's seat. He and the werewolf were in the front of the two-car caravan, packed and ready to head off for parts unknown. In the back of the exceedingly anonymous Ford Taurus were two groggy vampires, piled under a bunch of blankets. Some wrinkled clothes had been piled on top to make the seat look more like the work of a couple of lazy college students and less like two corpses hiding under a tarp.

"Yup. I-8, east, for a damned long time," The green-haired wolf said.

"Does Gunn have the directions too?" Xander asked.

"Yeah, he does," Gunn said from just outside the window. "We'll be right behind you, but we need to stop for coffee."

"No problem," Xander replied. "Will stop for food and coffee on the way out of town."

Before long they were leaving San Diego behind, making good time on the interstate. Oz kept Xander awake with his unique form of sort-of conversation, done in a quiet enough voice that Wil and Angel could get some sleep. The two vampires were going to be doing all the night driving, which meant they needed all the rest they could get.

���...�...�...�...���

"Where the hell are we?" Cordelia grumbled as she staggered out of the car.

"Tucumcari," Xander replied. "Home of toilets and caffeine."

"And road kill," Oz added. "But mostly coffee."

"How long have we been on the road?" Gunn asked, rubbing his eyes.

"Fifteen hours, give or take a few," Xander said. "Time to hand the keys over to Deadboy and Blondie."

"You're going inside, right?" Wil muttered as he stretched. The back seats of cars weren't very comfortable. "Heat us up something to eat?"

Xander grimaced but nodded. He and Fred poured several pints of blood into big thermal coffee mugs and went into the truck stop, hoping that the smell of warm blood didn't arouse any suspicions. For that matter, they hoped that no one asked why they had so many mugs. The truckers scared him. A lot. They were hairy in ways he didn't want to think about, not in the way that Oz was and wasn't hairy. Smooth most places, most of the time, all over hairy with a vengeance some of the time, no in between. These things were stringy-greasy hairy, like they wanted to be werewolves (or maybe even a faun) but didn't have the knackers to get bit.

"Xander, can we leave? I don't think they like you staring like that," Fred whispered to the Raphe. "Please?"

Xander shook himself out of his daze and nodded. Had he been thinking about truckers? "I need to lay off the coffee. Big time," He said, even as he carried several mugs to the counter. Once he got there he decided that it was better to just pay for the blood as though it was coffee than try to convince 'Tolene' that it wasn't the truck stop's coffee.

When he and Fred got back outside, they found the others rested and ready to go. He and Oz took one back seat, while Cordelia and Fred got the other. Wesley and Fred split up to ride with Angel and Wil, respectively, since they hadn't driven or kept a driver awake during the first leg of the trip.

"We'll take over again when you guys reach I-44," Gunn said as they got ready to leave. "That should be somewhere around sunrise."

"Fine," Angel murmured as he started the engine.

"Fred, could you hand me that mug?" Wil asked a few minutes later. He was following Angel down the interstate, doing about sixty, being passed right and left. As soon as the tractor-trailer beside him went on ahead, he was passing his bloody Sire and taking the lead.

"Here. Why is Angel driving so slow?" Fred inquired as she handed Wil the blood. "He's usually better than this."

"Wesley must be telling him a story. He's probably asleep," Wil replied, sipping his blood.

"That's mean," Fred shot back, frowning. "I'm going to call them." She dialed Wesley's cell phone. "Wes? Um. Why is Angel driving so slowly?"

Wil watched with a grin as Fred began to grimace and blush. After a moment, she ended the call, just as Angel began to speed up."

"What was it?" Wil asked evilly.

"Nothing," Fred replied shortly. "Nothing at all."

"He was telling a story, wasn't he?" Wil pressed. "An excruciatingly boring one-the one about his Latin teacher maybe?"

"You've heard that one too?" Fred mumbled. "Actually, he was explaining the Matrix Murinus to Angel."

"Bloody hell, we're lucky he hasn't wrecked the car," Wil spat. "That thing could kill, it's so damned boring."

"I'm fairly sure it's marketed as a torture device," Fred conceded. "But then again, you haven't listened to Wesley drool and pant over the thing for days on end."

"Sounds kinky," Wil replied.

"Could you two not talk about Wesley's kinks?" Xander whined from the back seat.

"What? It's keeping me awake!" Wil returned indignantly.

"The fact that Xander's ball gag is in the trunk would keep you awake too," Fred offered, wanting to turn the topic away from Wesley.

"You know, that's not a bad idea," Xander muttered happily.

"No," Wil ordered. "Absolutely not."

"But-"

"Xander, I may have a soul, but I do not have a chip anymore, and I will hurt you. Badly. In ways that will render the ball gag unnecessary for a very long time," Wil threatened.

Xander gulped audibly and settled back down for a night's sleep. "Spoil sport."

*****
Part 63:

"Where's Angel?" Cordelia asked sleepily. The last thing she remembered was listening to Wil, Wesley and Gunn argue about where to live in Indianapolis. That had been early in the day, and now it was well past sundown. and Angel was nowhere to be found.

"He went out with a realtor," Xander replied. "To look at a house."

"Who went with him?" She inquired. "Wil?" Other than the two vampires, the rest of the group was still in the single hotel room they were sharing.

"Nah, Angel went by himself. Wil's getting dinner," Xander murmured.

Cordelia sat bolt upright. "What?" She screeched. "You let Angel out to rent us a house-alone?"

Wesley, Oz and Gunn perked up at her indignant squawking. "Yeah, why?" Gunn asked.

"Have you seen the types of places he likes to live in?" Cordelia questioned the group. "With our luck, he'll rent some putrid shack in a rundown neighborhood. We'll be lucky to have indoor plumbing."

Wesley rolled his eyes. "Cordelia, I doubt very much that Angel would procure us anything less than adequate housing."

The seer was winding up for another verbal assault on Angel when Wil returned with food in tow. "Something wrong?" He asked seriously, having heard raised voices from outside.

"Cordy's just bitching that Angel will pick some rat hole for us to live in," Xander responded, grabbing at the carryout the vampire was holding. Wil relinquished the food and propped himself on the air conditioning unit, one of the few surfaces left to sit upon in the room.

Wil didn't say anything about Cordelia's accusations; mostly because he had a feeling she was right. Oh, Angel would make sure they had the required amenities-walls, a roof, electricity and phone service. Unfortunately for the living members of their group, the dark vampire didn't consider climate control, water, and bathrooms to be necessities. He just hoped Angel splurged when he found a place to rent. He watched idly as the others slurped and munched on the finest cheap Chinese cuisine he could find nearby, wondering when Angel would return. He hoped it was soon; the hotel room was tiny-four of them would have crowded it, and seven was almost unbearable.

Angel returned less than an hour later. "Well?" Cordelia asked impatiently as the vampire closed the door.

"We have a place," Angel replied. "Plenty of room, near several useful businesses."

"Ah. What's it like? When can we move in?" Xander asked excitedly.

"It's charming, and I've got the keys," Angel said.

"Charming," Wil murmured. He knew his Sire well enough to know just what that meant. Instead of commenting, however, Wil simply grabbed a few bags and went out to the cars.

���...�...�...�...���

"It's." Xander began quietly.

"It has character," Fred stated tentatively. "Lots of character."

Cordelia just stared. Gunn stepped around her and began to carry their personal belongings into the house. "Come on, Delia. Pick up something and help us move in."

"We're living in that?" She whispered. "It's falling down!"

"Cordy, it's a fine house," Angel said shortly. "You'll love it." He pushed a bag into her hands and went back to the car for another load. Eventually she regained the ability to move and helped carry stuff inside.

"What about beds and stuff like that?" She asked Angel once they'd moved most of the stuff in.

Angel sighed and stared at one cracked and peeling wall. "We have money, and it's not that difficult to get furniture. In fact, I was going to suggest we fix the place up a bit-paint, plaster."

"Dynamite?" Cordelia offered hopefully. Angel glared harder at the wall.

Gunn chose that moment to rescue his girlfriend. "Cordelia, we don't have a lot of choices here. The rent's cheap and there's room for all of us, ok? It won't take much work to make the place livable."

"Ok," She said quietly, knowing that she really didn't have many options. "But I want the master bedroom!"

No one argued with her; Wil and Angel had already laid claim to the basement, and the other couples wanted the upper floor bedrooms anyway. Gunn led Cordelia to the back of the house, hoping she wouldn't decide to go on a tirade.

���...�...�...�...���

"Did I ever mention how much I hate moving?" Xander complained as he scrubbed paint off his skin. He and the others had spent the last three days scrubbing, patching, painting and cleaning their way into better living conditions. Well, most of them had. Cordelia had co-opted Fred and gone off on a furnishings-buying spree, funded by a substantial stack of cash from Angel. Much to everyone's surprise, the ex-cheerleader had done well in sticking to their budget. No one could figure out how she'd found every thrift store in town, but she had, and with a judicious bit of flirting and begging, had gotten everything delivered. With eight pairs of hands doing the work, the house changed almost overnight.

"It could be worse," Gunn replied. "You could be in the basement."

Xander winced. "Never mind." Angel and Wil had spent most of the last few days in the lowest level of the house, mucking out junk and dust and unmentionable things. Now it looked good-patched and painted walls, rugs and furniture. Before, though, it had resembled something from a horror movie set.

"What's for dinner?" Fred asked as she carried a paint tray into the kitchen. "Tell me it's not eggplant paint. Please."

"Angel went out for something," Xander answered. "I think we're having another family meeting later on."

"Oh. I guess it really was too good to last," Fred murmured.

"Huh?" Gunn grunted from the ladder he was standing on. He was almost done painting the kitchen ceiling.

Fred shrugged. "Since we've been doing this, we've not talked about the other stuff, you know," She said. "I knew it would change, but the break was nice."

Xander leaned over the sink, staring out the window at the house next door. "It was, but we need to do something. We'll go nuts, all of us in this house with nothing to do."

���...�...�...�...���

"I take it our home improvement vacation is over?" Xander asked as he polished off the last piece of pepperoni pizza. The entire gang was lounging around their new dining room table, the remains of several pizzas scattered around amongst sodas and blood.

Angel nodded. "Yes. We need to decide what we're going to do, and how."

"You haven't thought that up too?" Cordelia snapped.

"No," Angel said softly. "You, after all, are the expert on Wolfram & Hart."

"Oh," She murmured. "So."

"I guess we need to decide what to do first then?" Fred asked.

"What would be the least obvious thing?" Oz inquired.

"I thought we established that less-obvious kicked our asses last time," Gunn snarled.

"Not that kind of not-obvious. The 'it's happening to everybody' not-obvious," Oz explained.

"Is there anything like that?" Wesley asked Cordelia.

"Hmm." She thought for a moment before getting up to retrieve a computer. Once it was booted up, she scrolled through a few files. "The main things they've got are business partnerships with major corporations, stock market investments, shady connections with elected officials, and those scholarships."

"Their stock holdings should have suffered along with everyone else's," Angel remarked when she was finished.

"You'd think," Cordelia muttered. "But they avoided stock in the really corrupt companies. I mean, they helped those companies rip people off; they aren't going to put their money in them."

"You're right," Angel said. "So."

"I'd say we aim for those officials," Gunn stated.

"Why?" Xander asked curiously.

"Well, if they lose those people, then when some of their other stuff comes out, there won't be anyone to cover it up," Gunn explained. "If we try to break up the partnerships, or prove some sort of illegal stock trading, who's going to care? Their pet judges will just sweep it under the rug."

"How many judges and attorneys are we talking about?" Angel asked.

"A disgustingly large number," Cordelia replied darkly. "I can believe it'll take years to get through them all. They're everywhere, at every level. Even the Supreme Court."

"I guess that's our goal then?" Xander asked the group in general. "How are we going to do it?"

"Dig up some proof of the connection, send it to some watchdog group and a few papers, see what happens?" Wil suggested. "Start low, work up to the top."

"Hmm." Cordelia hummed, flipping through more files. "It'll be research-heavy, which means lots of work for those of us who like that sort of thing."

"We all like research," Fred replied. "But I'm thinking that some of us are going to have to work. Really work."

"Yeah," Gunn murmured. "That cushion Angel's got laid back won't last forever."

"There's plenty of money," Angel defended. "But it would be better if some of us worked-for more than one reason. The extra income would be helpful, and we won't stand out as much if we act like the rest of the population does."

"Because we blend in so well already," Xander muttered. "So those of us who aren't spending every waking moment researching need to get jobs?"

"Do you want to spend every day for the next decade on this project, without a break?" Wil inquired. "I certainly don't. Actually, the idea of living a semi-normal life sounds rather nice-it's not like we've had a lot of that lately."

"What do you propose we do?" Wesley asked.

"Haven't any of you had regular jobs? Ever?" Angel replied.

"Watcher," Wesley shot back.

"Rich girl. Cheerleader. Failed actress. Receptionist. Seer," Cordelia added.

"Musician. Werewolf," Oz murmured.

"Physicist. Cave dweller," Fred said.

"Vampire hunter," Gunn stated.

"Doughnut boy. Punching bag. Delivery boy. Distraction. Short order cook. Vampire bait. Waiter. Fall guy. Bartender. Zeppo. Construction worker. Seer," Xander spat.

"Lawyer. Poet. Ravening lunatic mass-murdering vampire. Science experiment. Full-time employee of The Powers That Be. Without benefits," Wil finished.

"Ah," Angel said. "Have you tried the classifieds?" He successfully ducked the Dr. Pepper Xander threw at him, only to get beaned by Cordelia's Diet Coke.

���...�...�...�...���

"I must say, Wil, Wal-Mart blue is really flattering on you," Xander commented as he opened the Cavalier's passenger door for the vampire. "It really sets off your eyes."

"Xander, you're wearing a yellow and brown striped shirt. I don't think you can comment on what I've got on," The blonde snapped as he got in the car. "Besides, I got ho-hos. Be nice to me."

"Ho-hos? Really?" The Raphe echoed as he pulled out of the Supercenter's parking lot. "You're right, I shouldn't make snide comments about the shirt."

"If only the others would follow your lead," Wil grumbled. He could put up with the humiliation of being a stock boy for Wal-Mart, but he'd prefer it if the others wouldn't poke such fun at him because of it. After all, it wasn't like their jobs were any better. Xander was a short order cook-again. Gunn had taken a position at a convenience store, and Oz was wiping down tables at a bar. Cordelia, Wesley and Fred devoted all their time to uncovering crooked politicians and Angel split his time between that pursuit, keeping house, and running errands-and protecting everyone else.

"Ah, think of it as a character building exercise," Xander replied. He didn't really mind his new job. Yeah, he'd rather not be a part of the high school dropout workforce, but he'd done worse. Besides, he got plenty to eat at work, and the environment was fast-paced enough to keep him entertained.

When they got home, they were greeted by no one. The house was eerily quiet in the wee hours of the morning, when everyone but Angel was asleep. The dark vampire was probably holed up in the basement, trying to be as silent as possible. "You gonna grab a shower?" Wil asked Xander as they crept down the hall.

Xander sniffed. "I'd better, or Oz'll mistake me for breakfast." Wil nodded and went to the kitchen to heat up some blood. When he was done, he rinsed his mug and headed for the cellar door. Angel was waiting for him at the foot of the stairs.

"How was work?" Angel asked as Wil stumbled downward.

"Mind numbing. I can't believe I agreed to do this," Wil muttered as Angel caught him.

"One of us has to stay here," Angel reminded him. "I'll work next time. I promise."

"But will you wear one of these bloody shirts?" Wil asked, plucking at his stock boy uniform.

Angel grinned. "I'll find something appropriately ugly."

Wil nodded. "So, how was."

"Not bad," Angel replied. He tried to spend a few hours each night out on the streets, doing some semblance of a patrol. It wasn't easy for him; unlike Los Angeles and Sunnydale most of the evil here was purely human, which meant he could do little about it. He didn't want to jeopardize their safety by calling attention to his presence. Still, he did occasionally run into a vampire or demon up to no good. The rest of the time he tried to find a way to make things not happen-by distracting potential victims and criminals before they met up. It was almost a game.

"What about Cordelia?" Wil inquired softly, pulling off his clothes. The odor of the discount store, while not as obnoxious as that of a diner, was still enough to warrant action.

Angel sighed. "It's not moving quickly enough for her, of course. Fred found some promising leads, as did Wesley, so I suppose they're getting somewhere."

"If they've gotten anywhere, it's a victory," Wil retorted. "The eight of us, working against something the size and power of Wolfram & Hart?"

"I know," Angel said. "But try telling that to her. She's driven."

"She's angry," Wil countered. "Because of what happened to her, and to Fred. Because of a lot of things, really. I just hope she doesn't let it eat her alive."

"She's not the one I worry about," Angel murmured. "Fred's getting better, but."

"Wesley told me this morning that she had actually talked to him about it, a little," Wil said quietly. "Maybe she just needs time."

"Maybe," Angel echoed.

Wil climbed into bed, beckoning for Angel to join him. "We can worry about that later, hmm?"

*****
Part 64:

Dawn rubbed her eyes and yawned. Why wouldn't Buffy let her learn magic-just a little? The teenager only wanted enough knowledge to make fresh, hot coffee appear on demand. Was that too much to ask? She was pretty sure Buffy was being unreasonable. After all, the Slayer was the one making Dawn get up at three in the morning.

As sure as sunrises, the Slayer appeared a few minutes later. "What's the scoop?" Buffy asked as she jogged into the office. Willow was a few steps behind her, groggy but conscious.

"Yagnih demons, five unidentifiable victims, at an after-party east of campus," Dawn read from the computer screen. "Time estimate gives us about an hour to get there."

Willow immediately went to the library to look up Yagnih demons. Buffy, in the meantime, gathered up their standard supplies. "Hey, we got lucky," Willow announced as she walked back to the others, book in hand. "Not that strong, and susceptible to a stake through the heart."

"Let's roll, then," Buffy announced, urging the others towards the door. She may have appeared peppy, but getting woken up at three in the morning by the shrill e-mail notification system they'd set up wasn't her favorite thing. Lorne had had made his displeasure clear before she'd come downstairs. Her response had been the same as the last time it had happened; if you don't like it, move back into the club. The green demon never did, so she figured he just liked to complain.

"Can I drive?" Dawn asked as they reached the car. Willow slid into the back seat, not wanting to get into this conversation again.

Buffy snorted. "No, you cannot drive."

"But there's nobody on the streets! Besides, I'm never going to get any better if I don't practice," Dawn whined, already taking position in the passenger seat. She knew each time she asked what the answer would be, but that didn't stop her. Hey, she was an optimist. Life on the Hellmouth, and later in Los Angeles, had taught her to always hope for the best.

Buffy didn't bother with a retort as she drove towards campus. As they got closer, Dawn gave more precise directions to the location in Cordelia's visions. Over the past year, the three young women had gotten into a rhythm-Dawn retrieved the vision-mail when it arrived, Willow researched whatever needed to be researched, and Buffy directed the team. When they did happen to need muscled backup, Lorne would call up a few friends, who would do whatever needed to be done. That didn't happen nearly as often anymore, since both Dawn and Willow had become very proficient hands-on investigators.

"Um, turn here," Dawn said. "It should be that house-the one with the square pillars."

"Ok," Buffy started as they piled out of the car. "Remember the rules-no taking on multiple bad guys, try to get the vics out of the way, and ask for compensation."

"Yagnih demons usually only surface to harvest organs," Willow murmured as they walked up the street. "Mostly spleens."

"That's nasty. Why can't demons come up in hordes to harvest Twinkies and Zingers?" Dawn asked petulantly.

"I'm with you on that one," Buffy muttered. Hells, if there was such a thing as a Twinkie-eating demon, she'd hire him in a heartbeat. Then again, she already knew one of those-Xander. Unfortunately he was off in the great unknown, sending her his visions via e-mail.

The slaying went pretty much by the books-Buffy took down the majority of the squat, baby-faced demons, while Willow and Dawn ran damage control. Most of the partygoers were either drunk, stoned or both, so it wasn't difficult to convince them that they'd been in the midst of a swarm of sewer rats that had been attracted to the premises by the presence of garbage, alcohol, and numerous health code violations. The rodent ploy worked in their favor; most people were willing to pay exterminators handsomely to get rid of the problem, without reporting the incident to the health department.

Unfortunately for Buffy and the others, the job was typical enough that they received their normal dose of slime and goo. This time the stench was a cross between rotten eggs and spoilt milk-not a combination made in heaven. "Did they pay up?" Buffy snarled as she helped Dawn spread tarps over the front seat.

"Yeah, really well," Dawn replied. "Almost made up for the last time." The last vision had been a disaster-oh, the innocents had been saved, but they'd been snotty rich people who'd threatened to call the cops on Buffy-after she'd saved their ungrateful hides.

"I guess that makes the slime ok," Buffy mumbled.

"Unless this stuff.clings," Willow remarked. "Then, I'm not so sure. Maybe baking soda?"

"Gods, if I smell like this all day." Buffy started.

"If it doesn't come out, I'm so skipping school," Dawn swore. "Buffy, you cannot make me go to class smelling like a garbage can."

Buffy grimaced. She hated letting the vision and investigative work interfere with Dawn's education, but then again she'd missed a day or ten because of slaying. and she didn't want to torture any other students with this stench. "If it doesn't come out, yeah. But if it does, you have to go-and take that history test you've been dreading."

"Fine," Dawn replied quickly. She wasn't going to press her luck. "Did Lorne complain again?"

"Lorne always complains," Willow said laughingly. "This time, I heard him all the way down the hall-Slayer, if you don't turn that blasted thing off, I'm going to take a sledgehammer to it!"

"He says that every time," Buffy remarked. "But he never does anything about it."

Dawn grinned. Lorne knew a good thing when he saw it, and he wasn't about to risk pissing off Buffy now that he'd finally gotten his hands on her. It had taken the green demon nearly eight months after Angel and the others had left to get Buffy to go out with him-and that had been with Dawn and Willow's help. The two girls thought they made a cute couple-and now Buffy had someone who really liked to talk about fashion.

The teenager's next goal was Willow. The redhead was pretty much back to normal, in terms of functionality. She no longer cried herself to sleep, or fazed out at odd times. Buffy had officially hired her on at Eos, giving her a position somewhere in between Cordelia's and Wes's old jobs-sort of a receptionist/researcher person of all trades. She stayed as far away from magic as she could, but that was to be expected. Lorne had once again stepped in to fill the gap there, either doing the spells they needed or finding someone who could. Dawn helped him when she could, within the confines that Buffy put on her.

Now that Willow was better, Dawn wanted her to have a life beyond work. They hung around in Caritas a lot, chatting with the regulars and trying not to laugh at the really bad karaoke. Dawn had thought that maybe Willow would take an interest in someone there, but so far she hadn't. Maybe she wasn't as into demons as Buffy was.

Dawn felt sure she'd find someone for Willow, though. The young woman had a lot going for her-brains, beauty, a personality most people fell in love with instantly. and she seemed to like both boys and girls. It couldn't be that hard, no harder than finding Dawn herself a date for the prom. Well, she hoped it would actually be easier than that. She hadn't met anyone at school she wanted to go to the dance with-the guys were mostly so immature she couldn't stand them, and most of the girls who were open to that sort of thing weren't her type.

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"Well?" Wil asked impatiently, pacing behind Cordelia with a mug of blood and chocolate in one hand.

"Jeez, impatient much?" Cordelia muttered. "Dawn says they got rid of the demons, and managed to get paid too. See, everything's fine," She said. "Stop worrying."

"I'll worry as I wish to," Wil snapped. "She's a kid, Cordelia."

Cordelia rolled her eyes. "Yeah, a kid with a Slayer for a big sister, and an ex-witch besides. Both of them were facing worse than Yagnih demons at her age. Besides, they aren't going to let anything happen to her. You know that."

Wil sighed. "I know. I just wish we were there!"

"As opposed to here?" Cordelia remarked.

"You like it here?" Wil asked skeptically.

"Oh yeah, I'm so in love with this place, spending my days digging up dirt on senators from Connecticut circuit court judges in Arkansas!" Cordelia shot back.

"At least you aren't a checkout boy at Wal-Mart," He lobbed her way.

"Hey, that's right, you got a promotion," Cordelia said. "Like the smock?"

"'S not a promotion," He argued. "And no, I don't like it. Stock boys don't have to talk to the customers all the time. 'Did you find everything alright?' 'May I see a driver's license? You can't purchase acrylic paints unless you're 18, you know!'. Bloody hell."

Cordelia giggled. Had she not seen it herself, she wouldn't have believed Wil worked at Wal-Mart. But one night she and Angel had gone out on a doughnut run and stopped by to see for themselves. and found Wil working the cigarette lane, looking miserable. "But you could be Xander, you know."

"Yeah, I guess," Wil murmured. "Fuck! Did Gunn remember to bring the car by for him?"

The seer frowned. "The car. no, I think he's still got it out. Why?"

"Because Fred's got the Taurus, over at the library. Xander will have to walk to work," Wil commented. "And he's not going to like it."

Cordelia shrugged. "No, but it won't hurt him. It's only five miles."

"Hmm. Maybe I should pick him up after, though," Wil said, mostly to himself. He and Xander had gotten the most demeaning jobs of the lot of them, so the two men often banded together for mutual self-defense. Xander was still a short-order cook, and still normally worked nights, although today he had a day shift. Oz was now tending bar instead of mopping up afterwards, and Gunn had taken on a full-time position at the convenience store.

"If you want. It might be a good idea, actually," Cordelia said. "It'll be dark when he gets off work."

"Better than making Oz push it to get to work on time, and you know he won't let Xander walk home after dark," Wil replied.

"Damned alpha," Cordelia muttered. The four werewolves had coalesced into a tight-knit pack, more than just Oz and Cordelia had ever been alone. The rainbow-haired musician was still alpha, although he didn't boss the others around much. Still, they grumbled about him like they were supposed to.

"Well, I'd better finish that research you wanted," Wil said, taking a seat in front of his computer. Cordelia had assigned him the thankless task of cross-referencing bank statements to figure out where several politicians were funneling their Wolfram & Hart bribes. There were moments when he seriously considered staking the damned computer, it was so frustrating.

���...�...�...�...���

"One more time," Wesley murmured, scratching his head. "How exactly is sending an inflammatory letter to an abortion clinic going to unmask Senator McLedon's illegally earned income?"

Cordelia and Fred stared at each other. They'd only explained it six times already. "Look, the good Senator is an 'unofficial' supporter of this anti-abortion group, Infant's Militia. They're suspected of bombing six family-planning clinics in the northwest," Cordelia began again. "The letter is going to provide a tie between him and the organization."

"And that helps how?" Wesley asked.

"They're being investigated by the government, for fraud and tax evasion," Fred explained. "If the government gets their hands on viable proof that the Senator is financially supporting the group, they'll look into his finances."

"And they may start their own investigation of him, even though they might not find any actual connection between him and this organization?" Wesley inquired.

"There's a good chance of it, yes," Cordelia stated. "Particularly since we've already raised government awareness of a few dummy corporations that are simply Wolfram & Hart's fronts. He's got money in them, and that should make the government look twice."

"Why haven't they done so already?" Wesley asked. "If these other corporations are under watch, wouldn't they have tracked him down by now?"

"Not necessarily," Fred replied. "Right now, they're only watching new transactions and business, and his money is established and not moving. He's probably waiting until the government drops their investigation of the dummy corporations before moving it."

"Ah. Well, if you think it will work," Wesley murmured. "Oh, and I did submit the anonymous letter you requested," He told Cordelia.

"Great! Now, just make sure to keep up with it online. We'll see what happens," She replied. They had drafted a letter detailing the bribes taken in by a certain district attorney, planning to mail it to a couple of watchdog groups. With any luck, he'd be booted out of office.

"Where's the car?" Oz asked from the doorway.

Cordelia looked up. "Wil took it to pick up Xander," She replied.

"K. See you in the morning," He said as he left for work.

"Where's the car?" Angel inquired as he walked into the room.

"The Taurus or the Cavalier?" Cordelia asked. "Because Gunn has the Taurus, and Wil and Xander have the Cavalier."

"Oh," Angel murmured. "Are any of them coming back?" He needed to go pick up fresh blood.

"Xander's bringing the car back once he drops Wil off," Cordelia answered. "Give him half an hour, ok?"

"Thanks," Angel murmured, walking back out of the room before she could assign him any new work.

"He could've hitched a ride with Wil," Cordelia grumbled. "But no, he had to have that extra half-hour of sleep."

Fred and Wesley wisely remained silent. They knew better than to tangle with a short-fused Cordelia. Perhaps Gunn could get her to relax a little once he got home.

*****