Disclaimer: I don't own the show Angel or any of the characters. So don't sue, I'm not making anything money from this.

Author's Note: This fic takes place after Soul Purpose, I guess. Please read and review, I don't care if you don't have anything to say, just say that you took the time to read it. It would mean a lot; this is my first Angel fic! On with the story.

London. My hometown, I was born and raised here, but it didn't feel like home that much. I suppose I just associate this city with pain, my childhood, the Council. That time around though, I was with friends.

It felt odd driving on the left side of the road, again, isn't that ironic? When I first arrived in Sunnydale, California I couldn't figured out why the Americans didn't do the same.

Besides Angel, I was the hardest to convince to come here. I didn't know why the London branch of Wolfram & Hart want us to come to their annual gala, and didn't want to find out. We only won LA and once we stepped out of that domain we were fair game. However, Jonathan Webster, the CEO of the London branch of Wolfram & Hart told us up front this was only tradition. That every year CEOs and at least some of the senior staffs from the American and British branches came, through Revolution, the War of 1812, WWII and any other major war or disaster. He said that "policy differences" should stop that.

Angel still wasn't going to agree. Jonathan was getting frustrated, and said that if it made us feel any better we could bring a security team and do all protection spells we wanted.

"Mr. Angel do you think I'm some twit to go against the Senior Partners' wishes? It's not very often when they give their word but when they do it's not to be taken lightly. You have the LA branch and we aren't trying to take it back," the British man yelled over the phone a few days earlier.

Angel finally caved in and said to pack our bags for three days. There were meetings for department heads and CEOs for two days and the actual gala was on the evening of the second day. Lorne, since there were not meeting for entertainment department (evidentially that is some unique to LA), agreed to stay behind and make sure that totally chaos didn't break out.

That evening we all went into Wolfram and Hart's private jet. In New York, while refueling, a stowaway was discovered—Spike. Angel, to say the least, wasn't very pleased. Spike had also, accidentally ruined Fred's hanger bag, which contained her red, formal dress. However she was optimistic, as usual.

"I was meaning to buy a new one anyway," she told a tied up Spike (like I said, Angel wasn't happy).

After day one of meetings, Fred when shopping and called me on her cell phone and asked if I could pick her up, since she didn't have enough money left after buying the dress for a taxi.

"So, did you find something?" I asked her.

"Yeah," she said as she showed me the black dress she brought.

"Classy," I commented as she climbed into the car and shut the door.

"And on top of that I got a great dinner at this Indian restaurant,"

"No wonder you didn't have enough more for a cab," I joked.

"Hey, I haven't been here so I figured I might as well take it all in. I bet this place is sort of boring to you, since you grew up here."

"A little but it's also changed. Please tell me if I start acting like an old man saying, 'that wasn't there' or 'that use to be a shop',"

She laughed, "Okay."

I glanced over and smiled at her. It was the last thing I did.

Next time: What happens to Wesley? How will it affect the rest of the gang, especially Fred?