Author's note: Joss Whedon owns the rights to the Angel and Buffy universe. I don't own anything other than the characters created for this story. That said, enjoy.

Prologue: They Are Coming

In a dark alleyway a lone figure was trying to outrun his pursuers. Though no one appeared to be behind him, he ran at a sprint's pace. Occasionally he would turn his head to look back to see if he there was anyone behind him, and though he saw nobody in pursuit he kept up his pace. When finally he could go no further he stopped and gasped in a great lungful of air. Suddenly, the sound of a bottle being kicked could be heard and he spun around to see what was there. A very tall man wearing a long gentleman's coat and wide-brimmed hat was walking towards him with a large knife in his hand. "Oh, God!" the man said as he turned away to continue running. However, he came face-to-face with cloaked figure wearing a mask. "NO! Not you!" As he turned to run in yet another direction, a third figure dressed like some sort of demented gentleman clown dropped down in front of him.

"Boo," said the clown. "Where ya off to in such a hurry? You wouldn't be trying to escape from us now would you? You should know better than that. There is no escaping us. Now, where is it?"

"I-I-I don't have it anymore," said the panicked man. "I got rid of it."

"That's not good," said a fourth figure behind the individual with the mask. As the figure came into view, the man could see that the owner of the voice was a man dressed like an Old West preacher. "Stealing is a sin, God says so."

"Please," begged the man. "I am telling you the truth, I don't have the box."

"I never said we didn't believe you," said the preacher. "I said that it wasn't good. However, if you tell me what you did with it I won't kill you."

"I sent it to an old hotel in Los Angeles," said the man. "A vampire named Angel, he lives there."

"You don't mean the legendary Angelus, you do?" asked the clown.

"I don't know," said the man. "I never met him."

"I've heard enough," said the preacher as he turned to leave. "Crypt, kill him."

"You said you wouldn't kill me!" whined the man.

"That's right," agreed the preacher. "I said 'I' wouldn't kill you. I never said I wouldn't have Crypt do it."

The man tried to run but Crypt just grabbed him by the back of his shirt and lifted him off the ground with one hand. Then with the other hand, Crypt drew forth an elaborate long sword and ran the man through the chest with it. Though the man struggled, Crypt just held him fast and never moved until the man was dead. Once he was gone, Crypt withdrew the sword and dropped the man in a bloody heap. The blood of the man seemed to withdraw into the blade of the sword as it was put back into its scabbard. Then Crypt turned to face the others. The clown was smiling while the other two just stood there.

"We must get back," said the preacher. "Hunter will want to know what we got out of him."

"Aside from his entrails?" asked the clown.

"Yes," said the preacher rather annoyed. "Aside from his entrails."

In Los Angeles:

A deliveryman opened the front door of the hotel and looked about. "Anyone here?" he called out. Fred popped her head up from behind the front desk and stared at him for an instant.

"Can I help you?" she asked a little unsure.

"Yeah," said the deliveryman. "I got a package that needs to be signed for."

"Oh," said Fred before coming out from behind the desk. "I can sign for it."

"Terrific," said the deliveryman as he turned to go outside to get the package.

While he was out, Wesley and Gunn came down the steps.

"We got a delivery," Fred said to them.

"What is it?" asked Wesley.

"I don't know yet," replied Fred. "The guy went out to get it."

A few minutes later, the deliveryman came back with a large square package on his cart. Once he offloaded it, Fred came up to him and signed for the package. "Have a nice day," the deliveryman said on his way out. Fred gave him a smile and a casual wave goodbye.

"What do you think it is?" asked Gunn.

To be continued…