TITLE: Friends Lovers and Enemies

AUTHOR: Jennie Exell

EMAIL:

DISCLAIMER: All stuff BtVS and A:ts belong to joss and co. I'm not making any money from this so don't bother suing me.

RATING: PG for now, I think...

SPOILERS: Every thing up to the end of both shows, especially 'Not Fade Away' and 'the Girl in Question'

SUMMARY: Post Not Fade Away, anything more would spoil it.

AN 1: This could be a prequel to 17 Multi-Coloured Plastic Bangles, which can be found at neither story requires the other to make sense but some of the things that happen in this one explain the past of the other, if that makes sense.

Part 1

He comes every morning to the same spot to watch the sun rise. He isn't wishing it could burn him away to nothing any more; he doesn't care enough to want death.

That last battle stripped him, it took him a while to notice but it had hollowed him out until there was nothing left. He could still remember every detail with crystal clarity, watching as the demonic dog like creature downed Gunn and started to tear at his legs. Killing it and throwing his friend in the dumpster, he still isn't sure why he did it. He remembers that as the sun began to rise they took the fight underground. He remembers he and Spike fighting side by side for the first time ever truly united in battle. He remembers watching Spike's ashes disappear into the blood stained sewer sludge. He doesn't know how or when Ilyria was felled, only remembers finding her body, scattered in many pieces, the face that was still Fred's in many ways mutilated and frozen in pain. He remembers fighting for 12 hours straight until finally no more monsters came and as the sun disappeared below the horizon, returning to the alley and finding Gunn unconscious but alive in the dumpster. He took him to the nearest hospital and waited. He remembers knowing the sun was about to rise and knowing he was safe from it in the waiting room where he sat, needing to know at least one person had made it through, that he hadn't failed them all.

He remembers that as the dawn of a new day spilled across the city of Los Angeles, feeling the most intense pain through out his body, a feeling akin to the time he lost his soul. He remembers thinking how it was ironic that the senior partners had the power to lift his soul all along. He remembers people calling for doctors to help him as he rolled on the floor in agony unable to control his response to the pain. He remembers hoping that the powers could dust him from on high and would spare the innocents of the hospital his demon's wrath.

He remembers waking up on a bed, with a regular beeping becoming a real annoyance within seconds. He remembers the doctors telling him they didn't know why but he'd suffered a heart attack, three in fact and had died once in the ER. He remembers not really caring even then. He remembers laughing to himself when they said he was lucky to be alive. He remembers indifference to his newfound humanity, humanity he was supposed to have signed away. He is still indifferent.

Its been nearly six months since then, nearly six months and no sign of a second wave from the senior partners. The only reminder that anything happened at all is the remains of Wolfram and Hart's offices, offices that were condemned by the authorities a week after the fight. Oh and Gunn's legs, or lack of them. They had to be amputated, but apart from now being wheel chair bound Gunn seemed to have bounced back better than he had. Gunn had found some of his family, an aunt and some cousins and moved in with them. It appeared neighbourhood heroes get looked after if they get wounded in battle. Gunn still looked in on him from time to time, but mostly he was alone. He didn't really care though, he may be alive but he didn't live.

As the sun turned the sky from inky blue to a myriad of colours; pinks, blues, oranges and yellows, he leant against the railing on Santa Monica pier staring but not seeing the dawn he had watched from this spot every morning for six months. Nature's early morning spectacular was almost at an end when one silvery tear slid down his pale cheek. After a few more minutes he turned and wrapping his arms around himself, Angel walked slowly away.


It had been six months since anyone had heard from Angel or his team. Stories were running rampant around the world's demonic community. Stories of how Angel had, while in possession of his soul, switched sides and Wolfram and heart had been destroyed in a battle between him and his former friends. Stories of raising demon gods, loosing souls and all out demonic war fair being fought in the city of angels. The stories were being spread like an enormous game of Chinese whispers. The trouble was no one knew the truth to start with. Whatever the stories that she heard though, Buffy didn't believe. Giles tried to be sympathetic saying that that although it was shock, it was what they had seen coming since Angel had taken over Wolfram and Hart. Buffy just shrugged him off saying he could believe what he wanted but she would knew Angel and he wouldn't have switched sides. And if he had lost his soul? Well she wasn't ready to think about Angel finding perfect happiness with someone else, but if the senior partners had removed it by magic 'and lets face it, if there was enough magic out there to make Angel have feelings for Cordelia there was enough magic to do anything.' then Angel was not to blame.

Even though Buffy did not believe, when the news reached Giles he had called the Scoobies together in London wanting them together to face the possible threat of this new, maybe still souled, evil Angel they were hearing about. Buffy hadn't cared at first, and this had concerned her friends. Regardless of what was going on, Buffy always cared about Angel. It didn't take long to get the root of the problem, The Immortal. Giles was furious that Buffy had let herself become involved with such a character; he had thought Angel and Spike had been bad enough. It was Willow that figured it out, it seemed the Immortal had greater thrall powers than Dracula and was more adept at winning over his target's friends and family than Ted had any hope of ever being.

So armed with a new de-thralled and embarrassed Buffy the Scoobies set out to discover the truth, to unravel fact from fiction. They still hadn't made much progress. Buffy had wanted to go to Los Angeles and face Angel; she had sworn that if he was evil she would kill him. Her friends didn't have that kind of faith in her conviction and had vetoed the plan, so they were still here, in London meticulously picking through the varied accounts that filtered through from the city that had been Angels home for the last five years.

Giles' study in the new watcher's council was filled with raised voices as new information was trawled through. Despite the din, when the phone rang Giles heard it and answered. Buffy didn't much care, she was sat in an over stuffed chair; her input was largely ignored anyway because she was adamant that the whole thing was baloney. Then again she was the only one who had trusted Angel's judgement to take over Wolfram and Hart in the first place.

"Buffy." It was Giles voice that broke through her reverie, he was holding out the phone to her, the room had gone eerily quiet. Taking the phone she raised it to her ear.

"Hello?"

"Is that Buffy? Buffy Summers?"

"Yes, who is this?"

"My name's Charles Gunn, I'm a friend of Angel's"

tbc