Part Two

Angel stood at the viewpoint, gazing down to where the waves broke against the bottom of the bluff - sending plumes of white spray up towards him. He turned back to his car - and there was Cordy, stood waiting for him. He smiled, 'I didn't think you were coming,' he said to her. She smiled back, 'you know me better than that … better than anyone.'

He shrugged and looked self conscious,'I don't know about that.'

'Yes. You do.' She walked towards him, joining him at the cliff's edge and looking out. 'It's so beautiful, here,' she said. But Angel was oblivious to the view, he couldn't take his eyes off her. 'Yes, yes it is,' he told her, 'just the way it should be.' Then he frowned, as he saw a quick flash of something else - Holtz - pushing him over the cliff face and snatching Connor from his arms. 'But, it's not,' he said, 'this isn't how it happened.'

'No,' Cordelia looked thoughtful, as she tore her eyes away from the ocean and looked back at him, 'but I like this version better.'

'It was Holtz, he was here…' he remembered the vampire hunter - and his cold voice - and the feeling of falling down the cliff face, knowing he had lost everything. But Cordelia stepped closer to him, she rested her hand against his cheek and stared deeply into his eyes - making everything better. 'I can't remember what it was like,' she said, 'not knowing you, not being close to you. I'm in love with you, Angel. Deep down, I think I have been for a long time. I was just fooling myself, before, with … refusing to see what was right in front of me. But I get it now. I see you - I see us. I just needed you to know that.'

He wrapped his arm around her, and pulled her in for a kiss - soft at first, but then deeper - more lingering. When he pulled back, he stared straight into her eyes. 'I need you, Cordy. I need you.'

She wore Jasmine scented perfume, and he nuzzled into the side of her neck - taking in the smell of her. He could feel her warmth and, as he kissed her neck, was aware of her heartbeat hammering in her chest, the pulse in her throat beating frantically in time - and the blood pumping through her veins; warm and delicious. He vamped out and bit down, hard. She gasped in pain and shock. 'I'm sorry,' he said pulling away for a moment, 'I'm so sorry,' and then he bit down harder, and drained her heart's blood, devouring all of her until there was no more.

...

He jerked awake - screaming. He was still trapped in his watery grave.

'Justine Cooper,' Wesley told Doyle, 'Holtz's second in command. She knows where Angel is, she knows where Connor is … at the moment I am simply - convincing - her to give up that information.'

'Wesley, bud…' Doyle stared at the chained woman, aghast. She was down on her knees, behind the bars; a shackle around her neck, a cloth tied into her mouth and her hands taped together. 'Wesley - we do not do stuff like ... this. We're meant to be the good guys!'

The watcher gave a dark chuckle, 'we gave up any rights to call ourselves the 'good guys' when we stole our best friend's son and lied to the people we love. But this … person has harmed Angel in some way, taken his child and now abandoned him. I cannot take back what we did, Doyle, but I can find Angel - and I can reunite him with Connor. Justine needs to pay for what she did to Angel - and she can do that by helping me find him.'

But Doyle was still looking horrified, '... no!'

Chained to the floor, Justine glared at the two men who stood above her, arguing her fate. She despised them both. And if Wesley thought he could break her - by locking her up, by forcing her to dive in the ocean searching for the casket she had sunk down there - then he had no idea. She was already broken, there was nothing left to break. Let the vampire's friends argue about right and wrong - she had nothing left to lose, she didn't care which one of them won.

...

They had driven all the way to Utah, the three of them, and set up in a little ranch. It had been so different from how it had been back in L.A. Even Daniel was different. They had been happy. They had their revenge, the vampire was trapped - forever - beneath the ocean's depth. No one knew where he was, no one would ever find him - maybe in a few decades he might get hauled out, but not before it was too late - before starvation had reduced him to a permanent vegetative state. Angelus had nothing to do but go quietly crazy, under the water, knowing that his oldest enemy was raising his son to manhood.

There had been tenderness, on the ranch, and laughter. She and Daniel had made love. They had made a home. They cared for the child. And whilst Stephen did not replace the son Angelus had killed, having someone to love - after all this time - had given the vampire hunter a new purpose, a different purpose. Justice had been done - and now he could move forward.

But it had lasted too short a time. It had barely been a month when, one night, as Justine lay Stephen down in his crib, they had heard the sound of an engine approach, grow louder - and then there had been the crunching of gravel, as the vehicle pulled up outside their little house.

'Justine,' Daniel's voice had been wary, alarmed, 'someone has found us - take Stephen and run.' She didn't want to leave him, but she would always do as he told her. They served Justice, not their own wants and needs. If he was afraid of discovery, by Angelus' people - then hiding Stephen was what mattered. She picked up the baby and headed for the back door.

But, as she had run through the house, she had caught sight of him through the windows. It was Wyndam-Pryce. On a motorbike and clad all in black leather. She fled through the back door and tumbled into the van, stashing Stephen into his car seat. But, as she switched on the engine, she heard the sound of a single gunshot. She had cried out, in grief, in pain … fearing what that sound signified. But, if it was as she feared, then she had to do what Daniel had asked of her, his last request. She pressed the pedal to the metal - and roared away from the scene of her contentment.

She drove through the mountains, constantly checking her mirrors for the motorbike gaining on her. She glanced to the side, she had to dump the kid. Wyndam-Pryce would catch up with her - he could travel faster than she could - she had to make sure that Stephen was not with her when the British man found her.

She wound her way through the twisting roads. Eventually she found what she was looking for. A church. Not a Mormon one - Daniel would not have wanted that - a Catholic one. He had been a recusant Catholic in England at a time when popery was deeply frowned upon, when the Pope had deemed that all good Catholics should be in a state of open rebellion against the King. It was impossible to be a good Englishman and a good Catholic back in Daniel's day - but still he had tried. His faith had mattered a great deal to him. So she would leave the vampire's child - their child - in the arms of Daniel's church.

She pulled up and got out of the van. She took Stephen down, keeping him wrapped in his blanket and strapped in his car seat, and took him to the church doorstep. She kissed him on the forehead, 'be safe, Stephen, remember your father - Daniel - loves you - and you are better off here than with the vampire.' Then she got back into the van and drove away - heading back the way she had come; then taking another fork in the road, putting as much distance between herself and the church as she could.

He had caught her in the end, she knew he would. And he had been angry that she had abandoned the baby. He had hit her - over and over, until she was bloody and bruised - but she had refused to tell him where Stephen was. Daniel was dead - as she feared. Wyndam-Pryce had gunned him down on the doorstep and then walked over his body into the house, trying to find the vampire's child. That she had managed to keep Stephen away from Angelus' people was the only thing she had left, all she had to hold on to - she would not give away the secret of his whereabouts in this lifetime. No matter what the watcher did to her.

He kept her alive - of course - she was the one that knew the information he so desperately sought - and kept her chained in the closet during the day. At night, he took her out on a boat - seeking Angel. She had had to tell him what she had done with the vampire. He had threatened to take away the bucket he had provided her with if she didn't give him that much. But nothing would induce her to tell him where the baby was. They would never find Angel - one casket in the entire ocean - he was lost forever. And as long as she kept quiet, so was Stephen.

Daniel would be proud of her. And that was all she had left. So she didn't care if Wesley kept her as a slave, or if the Irish guy convinced him to free her. Nothing mattered anymore. Nothing would ever matter again. She was broken.

...

'Wesley, man, you gotta let her go. I can't let y' keep her here like this.' Doyle had never been more shocked by anything in his life. Even the discovery that he was, himself, a demon rated only second to finding that Wesley - his only friend, his brother - was keeping a slave girl bound and gagged in his bedroom closet. 'This isn't what we're about!'

'How else do you suggest we find Angel?' the watcher asked him. The Irishman stared at Justine - who glared back at him, silent because of her gag. There was a bucket in the corner, and the stale smell of urine was drifting from it. With mounting horror, Doyle began to understand just what sort of conditions - the degradation - Wesley was keeping this woman in. As if the chains and bars were not enough. 'Look,' he said, tearing his eyes away from the woman and looking back at his friend, 'you said you're keepin' her to help find Angel. But you must know roughly whereabouts she dropped him - if you've already been out. You don't need her anymore. She can't give exact coordinates, what else can she do?'

'Hmm - and who exactly do you suggest goes diving to look for him - if I no longer have Justine?'

Doyle stared at him, then he looked back at the bound woman - and made up his mind, 'I'll do it,' he offered. 'I'll go diving for Angel - anythin', please - just don't do this, Wesley.'

'She knows where Connor is.' He hid his pain, when he spoke of Connor. His voice not giving any hint of the grief he felt for the loss of the boy he had grown to love as a son.

'Has she told you, yet?'

'No.'

Doyle sighed, deeply. 'Then she isn't gonna.' He was pleading, almost yelling - as he tried to make Wesley see reason. 'Look, bud - you've taken her freedom, locked her up, forced her to go deep sea divin' and made her go to the bathroom in a bucket. And she's still resisting y'. Y' can't break her, Wes … but y' can lose yourself, forever - if you keep on doin' this. I know we've been to a dark place - both of us - done stuff we regret, can't change. But it's time to move on - redeem ourselves. And y' can't fight evil by doin' evil. I'll help y' get Angel, I will - and then we'll think of another way to find Connor but, please, bud, let the lady go.'

Wesley looked back at the half demon, appraising his arguments. 'It will be dangerous, under the water. Cold, dark.'

'I accept that.'

'It may take many nights searching - we can't give up until we find him.'

'I accept that,' Doyle repeated himself. 'Look - all the dangers, all the difficulties. I'm willin' to take it all. But what I'm not willin' to do is let you lose your soul to this darkness.'

'How touching - funny you weren't thinking about that when you stabbed me in the back, sold me down the river to protect yourself.'

Doyle sighed again, 'and I'm sorry for that, I really am - but now I'm tryin' to make it up to y'. Please - let me go searchin' for Angel in this woman's place. Let her go.'

'It matters that much to you?' Wesley's voice remained calm, in direct contrast with the impassioned pleading coming from Doyle.

'It really does.'

It was Wesley's turn to sigh. He pulled a shirt over his bare chest and then looked at Doyle, 'we'll go to the harbour, then - you can look for Angel, if it means that much to you.'

'It's not about Angel - I'm doin' this for you.'

'I think I might be past saving,' the British man said, sounding resigned. 'But thank you for trying.' He then walked over to the closet and looked Justine in the eyes. 'You have always been a slave, Justine,' he told her, 'you just couldn't see the chains. This is your opportunity to be free. Your opportunity to give up vengeance. You can continue to be a slave - or you can live your life. Your choice.' He dropped the keys in front of her. 'I expect you to be gone when I return,' he told her, 'if you're not - I will kill you.'

He turned and left the room. Doyle gave the woman one last, horrified look, and then followed the watcher out.

The door burst open and Cordy rushed in, sword in hand. 'Knock knock,' Gunn said, following her in, 'you know, we could've done that the quiet way.'

'It doesn't matter,' Fred told him - looking around the squat they found themselves in. 'Looks like she's out.' The room was cluttered with the pickings the female vampire had stolen from her victims. There was a mattress in one corner, the stuffing spilling out of it, the dirty sheets screwed up. The air was stale and old - and there was no sign of Marissa.

'Man this is nasty,' Gunn said, wrinkling his nose in disgust and staring around, 'how can people live like this?'

'Helps to be dead,' Fred replied.

'Just one more reason to stay pink and rosy.'

Fred smiled at him, and then looked across at Cordelia, 'it smells like she still lives here,' she said, trying to sound optimistic, 'should we wait and see if she comes back?'

'No need,' their boss pulled the blankets back and picked up a set of headphones that were lying on the mattress. They were blaring out music. 'She's still here.' The three of them all looked upwards, and Marissa dropped down from the ceiling - knocking Fred and Gunn to the floor. Then she dove towards Cordy - but the woman expertly ducked her blows and then backed her into the corner. Once she had the vampire up against the wall, she lay the blade of her sword against her throat. 'We just wanna talk, Marissa, that's all,' she said, 'you answer our questions - we leave you alone.'

'I don't know anything,' the vampire protested defensively.

'You psychic?' Gunn asked her.

'No.'

'Then shut up and let us ask the questions first.'

'You know the bluffs down by the beach?' Fred asked her.

'No.'

'You used to feed there,' Gunn pointed out.

'Oh - those bluffs.'

Gunn then told her their interest in the area - three months ago, they had lost a friend around there.

'Tall. Good looking, weird hair?' Marissa asked.

'And probably carrying a baby,' Cordelia added, her sword still at the vampire's throat. 'Did you see them?'

'I see lots of things - what do you care?'

'I care. So let's try again, did you see them?'

'Bite me!'

Fred and Gunn exchanged an exasperated look. Cordelia was out of patience, though - she pulled a cross out and held it up at Marissa, who shrank back. 'Wrong answer. Now I'm gonna ask my question again, and if you don't give me the information I'm looking for - I'm gonna press this cross against your face and hold it there 'til it burns through to your skull - understand?' Her eyes were furious. Marissa cowered, and nodded. 'Good - did you see them?'

Marissa nodded again - and then allowed her vampiric features to melt from her face, in hope of appearing more sympathetic to the furious woman who held her life in the balance with her sword. 'Yeah - I saw them. He was by himself - and then the baby began to fuss and he took him over to look at the ocean.'

'So what happened to them?' Cordelia never relaxed her grasp on her blade, and she maintained eye contact the whole time - keeping up the challenge until the undead demon gave her everything she wanted to know.

'Then - then there was this other guy,' Marissa stammered. 'He had your friend on the cliff edge - he hit him, and your friend lost his balance...'

For a moment, Cordelia closed her eyes in despair. She remembered all too clearly what Angel had said to her, in training, just that day: you lose your balance - you lose. But then she snapped her eyes back open, remembering the creature she was dealing with now - and knowing that she mustn't lower her guard. 'What did this other man do?'

'He - he grabbed the baby - and pushed your friend over the cliff edge.'

Gunn looked confused. 'That don't make sense - Angel's a vampire. Falling off a cliff would barely slow him down.'

'There must be more to it,' Fred agreed.

'Are they right?' Cordelia asked, her eyes exuding menace, 'is there more?'

Marissa nodded, carefully, trying to maintain distance between her neck - and the blade that Cordy pressed against it. 'Yeah - I didn't see exactly what happened next but … the man went down to the beach, still carrying the baby. And a while later a boat sailed out into the ocean. They came back - the man, the baby and a woman - but your friend wasn't with them. They got in a van and drove off.' Marissa squinted at Cordelia, 'and that's round about when you showed up.'

Cordelia lowered her sword, and backed away. She had missed the people who had attacked Angel - and stolen Connor - by mere moments. And if Angel had been taken out to the ocean - and then never returned… if he wasn't dust in the wind, then there was only one place he could be.

She felt sick. Her stomach was churning and the gorge was rising in her throat. Her eyes burned with unshed tears. 'Angel,' she whispered to herself. She turned to leave - and Marissa saw her chance.

'Watch out,' Gunn yelled, as the vampire dove at Cordelia's retreating back. But Cordy spun on her heel and slashed her sword through the air. In one, fluid movement, she severed Marissa's head from her body - and the vampire crumbled to dust. She stared down at the pile of ashes on the floor. 'Come on,' she said to the others, 'we found out everything she knew.'

Once they were back at the hotel, Cordelia stalked straight into her office and slammed the door behind her - shutting Gunn and Fred out. The pair of them stared at the forbidding barrier of the closed door. 'What do we do now?' Fred asked.

'Maybe try Lorne again?' her boyfriend suggested. Fred sighed, and nodded and went over to the phone. For what seemed like the hundredth time, she dialled the number in Vegas - though she doubted she would have any more luck this time.

Lorne sat in his dressing room, his face was being powdered ready for the show. 'Now go easy on me,' he said to the make up girl, 'remember they're paying to see the green.'

A big guy came into the room - holding out a cell phone, which looked ridiculously small in his beefy hands. He handed the cell over to the anagogic demon. 'Two minutes,' he said.

'Thanks sweetie,' Lorne took the phone, 'A bonsoir,' he said into it.

...

'Lorne? Lorne!' Fred signalled Gunn to come over and join her, when she realised she had finally got hold of her erstwhile friend. 'It's Fred, I've been trying to get hold of you.'

'Oh, I'm sorry, hon. I've been booked out the wha and past the zoo. If I get any hotter they'll have to stamp me out.'

'Lorne, I know you're busy - but we need your help. We found a lead - they saw what happened to Angel. Someone attacked him and stole Connor, it must have been Holtz. But we have no way of tracking them. Did you speak to your connections. Did you find anything out?'

'Not a peep,' the Host told her, 'but if I miracle ear anything I'll send up a smoke signal.' Inside his dressing room, the beefy guy pointed to his watch - Lorne's time was up. 'Ah - that's my cue. Take care of yourself - and make sure fluffy's getting enough love.'

'Lorne!' Fred yelled - but it was no good. Down the other end, the line went dead; she hung up the phone in frustration.

'Did he have anything?' Gunn asked.

'No. And who's fluffy? Are you fluffy?'

'He called me fluffy?'

'He said make sure…' she wrinkled her nose up, 'wait - you don't think he was referring to anything of mine that's fluffy, do you?' she looked uncomfortable, 'because that would just be inappropriate.'