A/N This is a full rewrite of Season 3 of Angel. It follows on from my Seasons 1 and 2 rewrites, which you can access through my profile by clicking on my username. Obviously this story will make much more sense if you have read the previous 2 seasons, however I think matters had tied themselves up by the end of season 2 so that if you haven't read them, this new season will still make sense - at least about 95% of it.

The fic is a 'Doyle lives' retelling of the story, HOWEVER this is not his story. He is the catalyst for change (and as such, does get a hefty amount of page time); but the story remains an ensemble piece, which follows the POV of all major characters (including baddies) and allows every character to develop fully. Doyle HAS NOT been allowed to steal anybody's lines/actions/ purpose or function - every character is still given their big moments so, hopefully, regardless of who your favourite Angel character is, there is something here for you to enjoy. The only exception, of course, is that - as Doyle never died - he retains the visions, and Cordelia does not have them. However, keeping Cordelia central, useful and important was one of my unbreakable rules when writing this - so hopefully you will still be able to recognise her growth and development from canon in this fic.

All 22 episodes are included, and each episode is split into 4 parts, following the four act structure of the show. I tend to post part one of an ep on a Friday - and then the subsequent three parts on the following three days. Obviously, season three is very serialised and, as with canon, it's important to follow the whole thing in order to understand everything that is going on.

The relationships in this season centre around two love triangles: Wesley/ Fred/ Gunn and Angel/ Cordelia/ Doyle ... and nobody loves Lorne : (

It will come as no surprise, when I tell you that I am not Joss Whedon and I don't own any of this. So that's about it. I'll always let you know which episode is coming next, at the end of each episode - and will let you know if the next chapter will be delayed for any reason. Hope you all enjoy : )

P.S - in this first chapter, there's a bit where we cut to Angel in Tibet - and then back to the hotel and then Tad-ah! Angel's in L.A... just read the cutaway as a flashback to 'this is what Angel got up to on his summer vacation' ... and don't let the timing of it irritate you too much. Thanks.

"Bottom line is, even if you see 'em coming, you're not ready for the big moments. No one asks for their life to change, not really. But it does. So what are we? Helpless? Puppets? No. The big moments are gonna come. You can't help that. It's what you do afterwards that counts. That's when you find out who you are.

-Whistler, Becoming Part 1

Heartthrob

Part One

The hotel seemed empty. She stayed very still and listened - yes she was sure of it - empty. She could hear the floorboards creak, and the curtains billow in the breeze - but not a single, solitary, living sound. It was probably safe to come out. Fred eased the door to her room open, peered up and down the hallway, and then crept out - down the landing.

'I can understand people who drink too much,' a female voice suddenly floated through the air. Fred jumped. It was the Chosen First Consort - 'Cordelia', the consort had told Fred to call her, she was somewhere nearby. And if she was close by then that meant the other one was, as well... the King. The squirrelly young woman backed away from the stairs and scuttled back to her room, as quick as she could. She slammed the door.

'I understand people who put a little note on the parking meter saying that it's broken, when it's not,' Cordelia continued, as she and the guys walked out of the courtyard and through the front doors leading to the lobby. 'What I don't understand is people who worship demons.' She sank down on the round sofa. Her skin was smudged with ash and dirt, and her short hair was dishevelled. She breathed a huge sigh of relief, as she finally took the weight off her feet. Doyle, equally dishevelled, dropped down next to her. 'I guess a guy's gotta do somethin' when there's nothin' on the tube.' He dropped his axe to the floor, it clanged loudly - the echoes reverberating around the wide open space.

...

Up in her room, Fred jumped at the disturbance… and then carried on scribbling on her walls with a feverish determination.

...

'Yeah but - Lu rite demons?' Gunn asked, wrinkling his nose in disgust. 'The stink on those things! If you're prince of the underworld, bro, take a jacuzzi once in a while.' Doyle nodded along in agreement. 'I was always April fresh back when I was prince of an underworld.'

Cordelia laughed, 'King,' she corrected him, 'don't downgrade yourself Francisdoyle of the brachen clan - it cheapens everything for me!'

'And I'd hate to do that, Chosen First Consort of He who is Exalted,' Doyle smiled, and then kissed her.

'Hey - did you see you got some mail?' she asked him, pulling away from the kiss and changing the subject. He shook his head and she pointed over to the counter. 'Well you did - it's over there.'

With a deep sigh, Doyle pushed himself back up from the sofa and headed over to the front desk. Sure enough, there was an envelope with his name on it. He looked at the postmark, and swallowed, nervously. It was from the demon clinic. He ripped it open and began to scan the letter.

Over by the sofa, Wesley had taken his place, and was still thinking about their recent encounter with the malodorant demon prince and his loyal worshippers. 'It's sad - if the only way some people can find a purpose in life is by becoming obsessed with demons.' He leaned his head back against the sofa, and looked up at Gunn. 'By the way, Gunn, technically that wasn't a Lu rite it was a Mu rite. A subspecies of the Lu rite. The male sports a small telltale fin just behind the right shoulder.'

'So glad to know we're not the sad people obsessed with demons,' the street fighter cracked.

Wesley looked abashed. 'We have to be a little bit obsessed. We're detectives that specialise in these things,' he defended himself.

'And we're not sad!' Cordelia said. She had her compact out and was using the mirror to forlornly try and put her hair right. She pulled at a strand that was stuck out near the front, tried to work out where it should go - and then gave up. She'd be better off just going in the shower in Doyle's room and actually making herself look presentable. She was just fighting a losing battle, right now.

'No no, we're a happy and rambunctious lot if ever I saw one,' Wesley agreed. Gunn just stared at him. 'You're not even going to humour me just a little, are you?' the watcher asked him. The younger man shook his head, and Wesley sighed. 'I know we sacrifice a great deal of our - social lives,' he did know it - his girlfriend had left him because he was married to the cause. 'But we have to. Our work demands it.' The mission was what mattered - rule of the slaying game, numero uno.

'True,' Gunn nodded, 'and who has time for love when you're out there doing it with the demons?' It was Wesley's turn to give him a look, and the street fighter looked sheepish, 'well didn't that come out sad and wrong?'

'Some of us have time for love,' Cordelia pointed out. 'And really like doing it with demons - or you know - one of 'em.' Both men gave her a pointed glare. She just shrugged and laughed a little.

'Thanks for rubbing in our utter patheticness,' Gunn said to her.

'No problem.' Then she frowned and looked over at the counter where the demon in question was still stood, immobile. He hadn't said anything in minutes now. 'Hey, what's up with you?' she asked him. He looked up from his letter, and hurriedly stuffed it in his pocket. 'Nothin'.'

'Yeah? What was your letter?'

'Nothin'.' He'd tell her when the guys weren't around. This was personal - and he didn't want his whole family knowing. 'So - um - what were you guys sayin'?'

'The guys were just bewailing their utter lack of love or social life,' Cordelia told him.

'Yeah? You need to find yourself a couple o' nice girls who are already in the demon huntin' business - otherwise you got no chance - the hours we keep… and the secrets.'

'Nice advice, sensei,' Gunn said to him, 'so where exactly do you suggest we find these demon hunter chicks?'

'Y'got me there, bud, I've already got the only one I know of… and the best one at that.' He sat back down on the sofa and kissed Cordy again. Gunn and Wesley looked sickened. The watcher got off the sofa, as the couple showed no signs of coming up for air, and went to peer up the staircase.

'You lookin' for Fred?' Gunn asked him, he glanced around to include the other two in his next question: 'anybody talked to her lately?'

'Not talked,' Cordelia said, pulling herself away from Doyle - but only from kissing him, she remained wrapped in his arms. 'Glimpsed. She comes out of her room every once in a while.'

'Not when I'm around,' Doyle said, twisting so that he too could peer in the direction of the staircase. 'I've tried to talk to her when you guys are all gone - and it's just the two of us in the hotel but… either she can't hear me knockin' or she just doesn't want to answer. After a while I just give up - I don't want her thinkin' I'm stalkin' her or nothin'. But I also don't want her thinkin' I don't care and that's she's all alone since…'

'Since Angel left,' Wesley finished up. Doyle nodded. 'It is a fine balance to strike,' the watcher said, thoughtfully. 'Not leaving her in complete solitude...but not crowding her. It's difficult.'

'And whilst we're difficultly striking a balance… Fred isn't exactly making giant strides towards mental health,' Cordelia pointed out. She nodded up the stairs, 'she's been hibernating up there for three months.'

'It's because Angel is gone,' the watcher told her, 'Fred became quite attached to him.'

'Angel groupie,' Gunn nodded, 'I get that.'

'Yeah, he's tall and dark and the way his coat billows out behind him in that mysterious and attractive way...'

The street fighter gave his Irish friend an odd look, 'uh - I meant because he rescued her from Pylea.'

'Oh right - me too - that's what I meant, as well.'

Cordelia laughed, and patted her boyfriend on the leg. 'He's always had a weakness for the coat,' she told her two friends, 'we try not to talk about it.' Then she sighed and looked wistful. 'I miss Pylea.'

'I would think you might,' Wesley said to her. 'You were there less than a week, you lived in a palace and were given a whole host of fancy titles and a diamond necklace…'

'Courtesy of His Majesty, the King,' Cordelia interrupted, and kissed Doyle to show her appreciation.

'Yes...well. Fred was there for five years. She was a slave, a runaway, they nearly chopped her head off. All those years she spent hiding out alone in that cave…'

'She survived,' Gunn said, 'girl's strong.'

But Cordelia snorted, she had a different take on the matter. 'The girl's trading one cave for another, how strong is that?'

'Now that's not fair, princess,' her boyfriend argued. ''S only natural that she's gonna need a period of readjustment… reacclimatise herself, like. You don't just bounce back from the kinda trauma she's been through…' he wrinkled his forehead, 'well OK - you do. But normal people? Not so much.'

Wesley was still staring off up the stairs, as if hoping to see some sign of the young woman in question. 'When Angel comes back…' he started to say.

'When is Angel coming back?' Gunn interrupted. And Wesley turned back to look at him… he didn't have the answer to that. But Cordelia did - sort of. 'Just as soon as he works through his grief a little,' she told the men. But Gunn looked sceptical. 'A little? Buff….'

'Don't say the B word!'

'Remember… we have to get used to not sayin' the B word so that we don't uh - inadvertently - say her name in front of the big fella once he gets back - send him into an even deeper pit o' despair than normal.'

Cordelia nodded her head along, agreeing with her boyfriend. This was a rule that she had laid down in the hotel as soon as Angel had left. Not that they talked about Buff...the B word often - and less and less as time went on. She and Wesley had spoken a bit about her at first, and Doyle had checked that Cordy was OK, whenever they were alone, in the beginning. But now their life had moved on - it had had to - holding down the fort whilst Angel was out of town. They couldn't afford to dwell on dead slayers. But still, she was adamant there could be no slip ups when Angel returned… so, as infrequently as the slayer's name might come up, the rule still held.

But Gunn was still dubious. 'The B word was the love of his life. And he's what? 250? That aint no short life. That grief work is gonna take more than a vacation in Sri Lanka.'

'Tibet. And it's not a vacation, it's a spiritual retreat at a monastery.' Wesley corrected.

'Getting chanty with the boys,' Doyle agreed. 'Findin' inner peace and enlightenment through candles and prayer beads. Good times.'

'Angel and a bunch of monks in the middle of nowhere?' Gunn said, 'yeah - that's a party! He should have got hammered and went to Vegas just like I told him.'

'Angel doesn't need a lap dance!' Wesley shook his head in disbelief. 'He needs some peace and quiet to work through this...'

Angel gripped his sword and slashed at the red robed monks - life sucking shur-hod demons in disguise. He beheaded one, stabbed another and then did a back somersault twenty feet up onto the balcony, where he pushed another demon monk to its death.

...

Eventually, the great, bronze double doors of the monastery were pushed open, and a sweaty and blood stained Angel limped out. His guide was waiting for him outside. 'What happened?' the man asked, in Tibetan.

'Demon monks,' the vampire replied in the man's native language, 'should have gone to Vegas.' He walked off down the mountain. His guide cocked his head, and then peered through the open doorway - seeing the dead bodies of at least ten demon monks littering the temple floor.

The warm water cascaded over her head, and Cordelia luxuriated underneath it, cleansing away the dirt and grime and stink of the demon she had just helped to kill. She worked the shower gel into a lather and watched as the soap suds slid down her skin and swirled in the water at her feet, before disappearing down the plug hole. Once she'd lather, rinse, repeated several times; she shut the water off and wrapped a towel around herself.

Out in the bedroom, Doyle was waiting for her. He'd taken the letter back out of his jacket pocket and was stood by the bed, twisting the paper, nervously, in his hands. 'Um - Cordy - can we talk?' he asked her, swallowing deeply so that his prominent Adam's apple bobbed up and down in his throat.

She sat on the bed and began to towel her hair, 'sure - what's up?'

'It's… it's my letter...that I got.'

'I thought you said it was nothing?' she continued to rub her hair.

'It's from that demon clinic that I went to...about …' he trailed off - and noticed that Cordelia had stopped her rubbing. There was a long silence. And then, 'oh,' she said. More silence followed.

'They...they've got my res-results. I just need to go get 'em.'

'When?'

'Tomorrow.'

Another long silence. And then another 'oh.' Doyle looked at his feet, he frowned. Cordelia got up, and returned the towel she'd been drying her hair with back to the bathroom. Then she went back out to where Doyle still stood by the bed, staring at his shoes. 'Hey,' she said to him, her voice gentle. 'Whatever they tell you tomorrow - at least we'll know.'

The half demon nodded, slowly, but he still didn't look up. He didn't want to know - not really. Cordelia placed her hand against his cheek, cupping his face and softly lifting his head so he was looking at her. 'I've already told you,' her eyes were still gentle, and her voice matched, 'it doesn't make any difference to me - either way - I still only love you.' She brushed her lips against his in a tender kiss, and then her voice became brusque and business like, 'now get in the shower - you're all filthy and you stink of Lu rite demon.'

Washed, dressed and feeling halfway human once more, Cordelia was back at work. She was worrying about Doyle, who was still upstairs showering, and how he was feeling now he had an appointment to get his results… but there was nothing she could do about that right now, so she kept busy.

She crossed the lobby, rat traps in hand, and asked the guys whose turn it was to go and lay them in the basement. Both Wes and Gunn pointed at each other, 'his,' they said in unison. Cordelia rolled her eyes - they could fight hell beasts but they were afraid of rats!

'Man I hate rats,' Gunn grumbled, 'with their little beady eyes…'

'And their beady teeth,' Wesley added.

'And their little tails all woosh woosh,' the street fighter wiggled his bottom, where he sat, to try and convey the creepy movements of the vermin. Cordelia laughed and made her way over to the basement. 'Well aren't you two just the biggest scaredies I ever saw…' she dropped the traps and screamed, as the door swung open just as she reached it. There was a still, startled moment and then…'You're back!' she flung her arms around the neck of the smiling vampire, who stood in front of her.

'Hey guys he's back!' she began to pull Angel into the lobby, and Wesley and Gunn got to their feet. 'Welcome home!' the watcher beamed, as Angel pulled him into a hug.

'What's up man?' the street fighter was also grinning, and greeted his former boss with a bear hug. He clapped him on the back. Cordelia sat down on the sofa and smiled up at Angel. 'So did you have a good retreat? All peaceful and meditate-y?'

'Sure,' Angel replied, nodding, 'until the monks turned out to be life sucking shur-hod demons.'

'Vegas.' Gunn said, sounding wise. That made the vampire laugh. 'Yeah.'

'But still - the point is you worked on things,' Cordelia told him, 'it's not like a holiday, where you come back home to your friends, you know, with some small mementoes of your trip.' Her expression and voice had become hopeful - wheedling almost.

'Are you fishing for gifts?' Angel asked her.

'Yes!' she clapped her hands. You could always count on Cordy to be upfront. The newly returned vampire reached in his bag and handed her a shrunken skull with a tuft of black hair on top. She looked at it, askance, 'oh - a small human head.' But Angel chuckled and took it back out of her hand and tossed it to Gunn - who was much more appreciative.

The next item out of his bag was a necklace. 'Not as fancy as the one Doyle gave you,' he told her, referencing the ten carat ruby and diamond necklace she had acquired when she acted as consort to Doyle's King back in Pylea, 'but it's more suited to everyday wear.'

'It's gorgeous!' Cordy exclaimed, enthusiastically, tying it around her neck. She glanced down at the nestling pendant, 'and just look how it brings out my breasts!' The men didn't say anything. 'Oh, you were all thinking it!' she grinned. 'Thanks!'

Angel then handed Wesley his gift - a sixteenth century Murshan dynasty dagger. The watcher's face lit up, and he whipped it through the air experimentally. 'I've always wanted one of these! I can't wait to kill something with it!'

'Where's Doyle?' Angel asked.

'Upstairs - washing demon stink out of his hair...so you can give his present to me.' Cordelia reached out, eager for another gift. The vampire gave her a look. 'I'll pass it along!' she protested. He shrugged, and handed her the final present. It was a small, leather pouch. She shook it and something rattled inside. 'What's this?'

'Enchanted dice,' Angel told her, 'only lets their owner win - rolls snake eyes for anyone else.'

'I swear - you're actively trying to get Doyle's legs broken,' Cordelia grumbled.

'Just as long he's careful…' he glanced around the hotel lobby, 'the place looks good - how's Fred?' He could guess the truth from the way the three others all looked at each other. 'Hasn't come out of her room yet, huh? Well I'll settle back in and go and talk to her.'

Before he headed up to his own suite of rooms, he stopped off on a lower floor and knocked on Doyle's door.

'Yeah?' the familiar Irish voice called out.

'It's me.'

'Hey! - Angel, man...wait a minute…' there was the sound of someone moving hurriedly, a stumble, brief cursing, and then the door swung open. The two demons beamed at each other. 'You're back!' Doyle stated the obvious.

'Uh - yeah - just got in… Cordelia has your present…'

'You brought us back gifts? Man! You should go on retreats more oft…' Doyle suddenly remembered why it was that Angel had left them and gone away to meditate for three months. He choked himself off, cleared his throat and looked uncomfortable. 'Uh.. I mean.. Thanks. How was it?'

'The monks were evil.'

'Oh, so you weren't bored then?'

Angel laughed, 'actually… it kind of came as a relief… all that chanting…'

'Yeah? Did you speak to Fred yet?' He stepped out of the doorway and into the landing, 'she - she hasn't been doin' so well since you left us. I don't think she really trusts us. We sent up a lot of tacos but...'

'I'm just on my way now.'

'I'll come with - say 'hi' to her, if she opens the door. And you can tell me all about the evil monks. Now when you say 'evil' …' the two men walked down the corridor together, headed for the room that Fred had turned into her cave of solitude.

Fred was scribbling on the walls, muttering to herself. Her eyes were squinting, and she stuck her tongue between her teeth as she concentrated. She pulled back and glanced around the room at the one word she kept writing - listen. She repeated it to herself. And then there was a knock on the door, which made her jump. 'Fred?'...it was a male voice - though usually it was the consort, Cordelia, who came up during the day. 'Fred can you hear me?' the lilt in the accent told her that it was him...the King.

She backed away from the door. 'There's someone here who really wants to see you, darlin'... and I think you might wanna see him too.'

'Um no..no,' she gabbled, backing away even further, hitting up against the wall. 'I'm I'm fine… How are you? I don't need to see anyone. I'm doing real good here, no need to worry about me… thanks for checking.'

Outside the door, Doyle gave Angel an 'I told you so' look and shrugged. 'It's like this all the time. Won't open the door, won't come out. We leave takeout at the door and then just leave her to it most days.'

Angel frowned, and knocked on the door himself. Fred jumped again. 'It's me, Fred,' the vampire said.

'Oh, Angel.' The young woman hurriedly snatched her glasses from her face and then ran to open the door. And there he stood. The handsome man. The one who had saved her from the monsters. The one who had brought her home after all these years. Her only friend… it was just a shame her saviour was stood beside the King of the monsters, himself, now that he had returned to her.

The big smile that she wore for Angel faded when she looked at Doyle. 'Well - oh - hi there.' She frowned at the half demon, and he got the message that he wasn't welcome. 'Well, it's nice to see you Fred - finally - I'll just leave you two to it, shall I?' He gave the woman a short wave, and then backed away, heading back to Cordelia. Fred watched him until he was out of sight, and then she turned back to Angel, her face alight with happiness, once more. 'Hi!'

She stepped forward, as if to give him a hug. But he stayed where he was, unmoving, and she quickly fell back, pretending that the awkwardness hadn't happened. 'Let me make some room,' she garbled, scurrying back inside and beginning to clear a space.

'Fred, I can't come in.'

Her face fell slightly, 'oh - of course not - you're worn from your trip. You go rest up, we'll catch up later,' she went to shut the door - keeping her face averted from Angel, as she did.

'Fred I wanna talk to you, I just can't come in unless…'

'I invite you!' she realised, 'instead of being rude; come in, come in,' and she opened the door wider, and let the vampire cross the threshold. He stuck his hands in his back pockets and looked around the room, staring at the writing she had scribbled on the walls.

'It's just a smidge of vampire in you as far as I'm concerned,' Fred was babbling, as he stood there and took it all in, 'but the universe has rules. I'm a great believer in rules and theorems, formulas…'

'I get that.'

'Aphorisms leave me a little dry.'

Angel tore his eyes from the walls, and raked his eyes over her, scrutinising her. She was still far too thin, and her actions were still nervous and squirrelly. She obviously hadn't made much in the way of progress whilst he had been gone. 'How are you?' he asked her, keeping his voice gentle.

She shrugged her shoulders, and didn't make eye contact. She was OK, she told him. Everything was pretty much the same as it was before he went away. Angel apologised for leaving so suddenly but Fred tried to assure him it was fine. However she cut herself off mid sentence to check that he was sticking around for good this time - belying her true feelings all too obviously. The vampire smiled at her, and promised he would be staying around this time.

He glanced around the room again, noting that one word scribbled over and over - listen. 'What are you listening for?' he asked her. The click, she said. When everything would come together and make sense. There would be a click in her brain and then everything would be clear again. Angel frowned. 'What happens if you run out of wall space before you hear the click?'

But she didn't know.

'Fred, I know you spent five years in a world where humans could only be slaves or runaways. I get that that was no picnic. But you're home now. You're safe - you can come out of your room. I know it's gonna take some time.'

The woman began to write on the walls again, and Angel crossed over to her and gently took the marker from her hand. 'You don't have to write everything down.'

'I know - God -' she laughed a high pitched, nervous laugh, 'I should write that down!'

'Why not take some small steps huh?' he asked her, beginning to lead her towards the door, 'like coming downstairs and hanging with us for a while.' He opened the door and ushered Fred towards it. 'There's nothing to be afraid of I swear…'

There was a sudden loud clattering and clanging; the sound of weapons tumbling to the ground, the thump of a body hitting the floor, a sudden burst of scream from Cordelia as she was taken by surprise, and a loud swearing from Doyle as the vision pain exploded into his skull.

'Hold that thought,' Angel told the young woman and he ran out of the room, along the landing, and down the stairs to see what the Powers that Be had in store for him this time.

By the time he got downstairs, Doyle's vision was over and Cordelia was helping him across to the sofa. Wesley and Gunn appeared from different parts of the hotel to see what the hubbub was. 'What did you see?' the vampire asked his sidekick.

'Vampires, man,' Doyle groaned, still clutching at his head. 'There's a party - they're crashin' it - they're killin' everyone…'

'Where?'

'Wilson College - Bonner hall.' Wesley and Gunn began to head for the doors but the half demon had more information. 'Room 918… there's a blonde vampire - a girl. You gotta watch out for her, man, she's the worst.'

'Is that it?' Angel asked.

Doyle nodded. He still looked a bit rough. 'Y' want me to come with?' he asked, his hand still pressed to his head.

'No - I got it. Wes and Gunn can sidekick. You stay here… with Cordelia.'

The half demon nodded gratefully, and Angel went to retrieve his duster. When he came back out into the lobby, he saw the young couple sat together on the couch. Doyle had his head rested on Cordy's shoulder and she was stroking his hair, soothingly. Seeing their closeness, and tenderness, made Angel's insides lurch with his own loneliness; so he turned his face away and strode out of the door.

'Man, I wish I'd left these things back in Pylea with the gruesome slug,' he heard Doyle groan, 'they're not gettin' any easier.'

'Believe me, sweetie, you really wouldn't have liked the ritual for getting rid of them,' Cordelia told him.

'How can anythin' be worse than this?'

'It was worse…'

By the time the guys reached the dorm room - they were already too late. The vampires had been and seen and partied - and left. Some muffled moanings on the floor told the men that not every casualty was a lost cause, though. Wesley rang for an ambulance. Angel looked out of the window, and saw the car filled with vamps headed east on sixth street. He gave his own keys to Gunn, and then vamped out. He jumped out of the window and ran along the rooftops.

The vampires had taken two humans with them: a young man who was sat in the front with the blonde female vampire that Doyle had warned about, and a young woman, who was squashed in the back between two other vamps. 'Please,' the man whimpered, 'don't hurt her.'

The blonde vampire smiled a dangerous smile at him. 'Do you love her?' she asked. The man nodded his head. 'You'd do anything for her?' He nodded again. The vampire's expression became wicked. 'What if we let you go? Hmmm?' The man stared at her. 'Come on now, life's about making choices - what's it gonna be? You - or her?'

After a long moment, the man began to cry. 'Her - oh God - take her.'

'Gee, you call that love?' the vampire asked sarcastically. She patted the side of his head, 'when we get home, I'll show you love.'

...

Angel dropped down from the rooftops, landing on the hood. The human girl screamed. He grabbed the steering wheel and swung it, causing the car to swerve off the road and hit a building. The Plymouth Convertible came squealing to a halt behind it and Wes and Gunn jumped out, grabbing their weapons from the backseat.

Angel jumped down from the hood and slugged the vampire sat beside the girl. Then he pulled the two humans out and told them to run. They ran, and the family of demon hunters set to work...

Gunn was the first to stake a vampire, and he threw his stake over to Wesley once he was done, so that the watcher could dispatch his own. The third vampire, realising the trouble, began to run away. Angel and the blonde vampire exchanged blows. She was strong and formidable. She made to leave, but Angel grabbed her by the throat, ripping a locket from around her neck; and forced her back facing him, before managing to plunge a stake into her heart. Her vampiric features melted from her face and she gazed up at the man who had killed her, in confusion. 'Angelus?' she asked.

The man, himself, looked down at her, equally confused; and then she exploded in a cloud of dust. Angel stared down at the heart shaped locket that dangled from his fist...