Disclaimer: None of the Buffy/Angel characters belong to me, but I wish they did!
Author's note: My friend and I wrote this story together because of the disappointing series finale of Angel. I hope the show's fans will read and enjoy this!
If you have any comments or criticism, please write me a review!
Chapter 1 Taken Away
"Okay, let's do this."
There they were, the remaining four, standing in a dark L.A. ally, in the pouring rain. They watched calmly as the legions of hell spread out around them, dark horrors in the moonlight.
Angel, the vampire with a soul, their leader, faced them, a long sword in his hand. "We've come this far, let's finish it." He turned around and raised his weapon.
"We'll last about 5 minutes," said the ex-hell Goddess, Illyria. And with that vote of confidence they charged towards the demon army, who's first wave turned out to be...vampires. The fanged undead, Angel's own kind. Another of his kind was fighting along side him.
"Bit sad really," the blond vampire drawled in a London accent, "I thought the senior partners were supposed to be a bunch of mythical bad- asses. This is their advance guard?" He smashed a piece of plywood that had been lying around against the wall, and threw the resulting sharp stakes to his comrades.
"I wouldn't complain, Spike. It's gonna get a lot worse than this," said Angel, decapitating a vamp with a single swing of his sword.
The fourth member of their team, Gunn the demon hunter/lawyer, was fighting to the best of his ability, considering the gaping chest wound. "Hey, the pain's leaving," he sang out happily, "I think I'm going numb!" Spike caught him as he staggered a bit and said, "Numb's bad, Charlie-boy. It's a step up from dead."
Illyria killed two vampires with two quick stake thrusts. "Yes," she agreed, "you will be dead shortly." Gunn killed the final vamp and fell against the brick wall. "Is that it?" he asked.
The figures that materialized from the rain at the end of the ally answered his question for him. Cloaked and hooded, these beings were undoubtedly demons, and carried long, Scythe-like weapons. "Great," Spike said," really terrific. They've even sent the bloody Grim Reaper after us."
Following the reapers, it was possible to make out more demons, including an indigo dragon. The beast took to the air and let out a spurt of crimson flame. The situation looked close to hopeless. Still, it was what they had signed up for.
The remaining members of Angel Investigations, now the managers of the Los Angeles branch of Wolfram and Hart, had banded together for an incredible battle, against the Circle of the Black Thorn, a group of incredible evil. There were not many "good guys" left however. The seer, Cordelia, had died in a coma a few months back, Fred the physicist had had her body taken over by Illyria. Wesley the ex-watcher had died that night, fighting the Circle, and Lorne the demon had left town. This was indeed the end.
Or maybe not.
Even though the companions knew they had no chance, they were prepared to fight to the end. All of them were prepared to die here, for they had nothing to live for, did they?
I do, thought Spike. There's still her.
Even as he thought this, something changed. The ally and the demons began to grow fuzzy, as though Spike were looking at them through a misted window. From the startled looks on the other's faces, it was clear the same thing was happening to them. Suddenly, the world became utterly silent, and Spike felt his feet leave the ground.
The dingy rain-washed and bloodstained ally slipped away, and they were flying, flying the hell out of there.
Thump! The sound of four pairs of feet hitting the ground rent the silent world they had been traveling in. For they had traveled. They were now standing in a large, bright room. It appeared to be some sort of lobby; there was a reception desk a few feet away and a moldy-looking couch sitting in the room's center. The strangest part however, was the sunlight streaming through the one window that was not shaded. It had been night in that ally only a few moments ago.
"It's my old hotel," Angel answered, "we used it as headquarters before Wolfram and Hart." Spike ran a finger over the reception desk, "bit dusty, isn't it?"
"We never got a chance to sell it," Gunn said, "I guess nobody ever cleaned it." As he spoke, Gunn took off his jacket and threw it on the old couch sitting in the lobby. "Your wound is gone," Illyria observed.
And so it was. Gunn's clothing was covered in blood, but the knife slash was gone. He felt all around his chest and side. "Cool," he said.
Angel didn't seem to think it was that cool. "What happened?" he asked, "Who brought us here, and where is here?" Spike's eyes scanned the huge room, "I thought you said this was your old place of business." Angel was looking very uncomfortable. It even seemed as if he were disappointed. "Yeah, it looks like the hotel, but last time I checked none of us can teleport."
Illyria raised an arm and said, "When I ruled this earth, I had only to wish that I were in a different dimension and-." Spike cut her off angrily with, "would you just shut it for one minute with the former glory? We have more important things to worry about." Angel however, shook his head, "she's got a point though. A lot of beings have that kind of power. And, are we in a different dimension?"
Before anyone could offer their opinion, there was a sudden commotion behind them and a trip of sunlight hit Angel square in the back. He yelled and jumped forward, but the light had no effect. All it did was illuminate up his confused and slightly frightened face, for he had seen what had caused the light.
"Does that answer your question?"
Angel, Spike, and Gunn gave out a collective gasp of, "Cordelia?" There she was, one hand around a shade cord, an amused smile on her face, yet another impossible thing to happen that day. The dead attacking, then the dead popping up unexpectedly.
"Well, I have to say guys," Cordelia said, walking to up to Angel, "you don't look too happy to see me." Angel seemed to snap out of his momentary shock. With a strangled noise, he threw his arms around his friend. "God, Cordy," he stammered, "you gotta stop dying on me." Cordelia giggled into Angel's chest. "Look who's talking!"
Gunn pulled Cordelia away from Angel and hugged her himself. "Damn girl, we've missed you." Cordelia giggled. "Well, we all go at some point, I guess. But I am glad that the Powers gave this little assignment to me."