"Giles?"
"This is he. Who's calling, please?"
"Giles, it's Angel."
"Ah." There was a sound on the other end of the line that sounded like he'd hung up. "I thought I'd made it clear we wanted nothing to do with your law firm," Giles said finally.
"It isn't about that. That's... that's over. This is something more... personal in nature."
"I'm not telling you where Buffy is."
"I know where Buffy is," Angel said. "That's not what I need your help with. Giles, I screwed up."
"Perish the thought."
"It's Wes."
Giles was silent for a moment. "Is he... did he make it?"
"Yes... and no. I just couldn't lose him! See, Giles, that's where I screwed up," Angel admitted sheepishly. "He's not right."
"Angel, are you telling me you turned him?" Giles took Angel's silence as a yes. "What's the body count?"
"What?"
"How bad is it? How many people has he slaughtered?"
"None. Giles... he's not right. Normally I'd have him hitting the books to figure out what was wrong, but... he's just so... he'll barely eat. I'm worried about him."
Giles sighed. "Angel, I don't know what to tell you. I'm not flying out there to give your new pet a physical."
"I think it's my soul. I think he's tainted somehow. Giles, I need you and Willow to fix him."
"There's only one way to 'fix' him," Giles said coldly. "And you know what that is. A stake through the heart will do nicely."
"Come on, Giles, don't ya think it's kinda romantic?" Willow gave him a goofy grin.
"Oh, yes, Willow. Certainly, turning a dying man out of complete selfishness is the epitomy of romance." Giles sighed. "Andrew, tell her."
"I don't know, Mr. Giles, I kinda have to agree with Willow," Andrew said, shrugging. "They weren't lovey-dovey or anything, when I was there, but there were vibes."
"Aww, they were vibey?" Willow's goofy grin started to get goofier. "Giles, come on. Angel's done a lot to help us."
Giles took one look into Willow's puppy-dog eyes and knew he'd been outvoted. "Very well," he conceded. "But I'm not going with you. Andrew and Kennedy will accompany you."
"Yay!" Andrew squealed. "Er, I mean, very well." The last two words were said with a deeper, more English sounding voice, and Giles was forced to roll his eyes.
"Andrew, do bugger off."
"Nothing?"
Connor shook his head. "Sorry, Dad. He'll only eat for you, and okay, how gross is it that you're asking your son to feed your boyfriend blood, really?"
"It's in a bag, Connor."
"Not the point. I might need therapy." Connor felt bad for Angel. "Are your friends gonna help?"
Angel looked at him glumly. "What friends?"
"I was kinda thinking Willow and the two people who just popped into the room with her."
Angel turned, surprised. "That was fast," he said, rushing to hug Willow. "Giles said -"
"Giles is a fuddy duddy," Willow smiled. "Me, I'm a sap. We can chat later. For now, lead me to your boy toy."
"He's not my -"
"Shut up, Dad, he so is," Connor smirked.
"We'll just make ourselves comfortable," Kennedy said, kissing Willow on the cheek. "You go do your goddessy magic thing."
Andrew brightened. "Oh! I brought Yahtzee!"