A/N: A short chapter, but still entertaining.

Traitor or Friend?

Chapter 2: The Ever Changing Course of Fate and Prophecies

Plans don't always turn out the way you want. They're always changing, for better or for worse. For Holtz, he found this out the hard way on the night his family was slaughtered. Angelus and Darla taught him that sometimes, even though you know your enemy and their habits, they will find a way to change and surprise you. Never allow yourself to believe that victory was close at hand. When you do, people get hurt... And die.

Justine still needed to learn that. Though she had the potential to be one of the best vampire hunters he's ever come across, she still was young and foolish. But not so much when it came to keeping secrets. She has yet told anyone of the other plan of his, one that none of the others expect. Of course, why would she? She told him herself that she would follow him to hell and back.

Holtz watched as the red head taught the new fighters some techniques. Sometimes, he felt pity for her, knowing that she was falling deeper and deeper into the abyss with him. Bitterness truly knew no bounds as its tentacles clung to those around you. Maybe, if his new plan was carried out as he hoped it would, the both of them could find some peace. Despite of her rugged exterior, she had an inner strength that only a woman who's seen and experience difficulties could have. She would make a good mother.

Clutching the picture of Connor, Holtz sighed. The child was part of the key to his future. To get to Angelus and deliver justice in such a way that it would allow this demon to at least feel what he felt when losing his wife, daughter, and only son. The other interesting detail was this Cordelia character. Like he thought earlier, plans change. And she was becoming a part of that plan.

Despite of his personal lessons in life, the hope that this would soon be over thawed his icy heart somewhat. To finally be able to have justice served was something he was denied several times, in which it became the only thing he so desperately wanted in this cruel life. Only then, would he find some measure of peace.

"Soon," Holtz murmured, looking at the picture of Cordy and the baby. "May God have more mercy on your soul then he will with mine."

A

Wesley ignored the invitation to play a round of darts as he continued to brood. He didn't lie to his friends and colleagues about where he was going... Not exactly. If memory served him correctly, he might have mentioned that he needed to go for a walk, and that he might stop somewhere for a drink. Though it wasn't for fun. No. He came here to get drunk. Really smashed. So wasted, that maybe he'll have a spiritual vision quest that would give him the directions on whom to believe and what he should do... Or just black out for awhile. He hasn't slept for nearly over thirty hours now.

The bartender gave him a compassionate look as he ordered for a bottle of whiskey, deciding that his two beers wasn't enough.

"You must have had a bad day, Wesley."

Wes chuckled darkly before grabbing the bottle from the bartender's hesitant hands.

"It's been more like bad days. Plural."

The young man sighed as he cleaned one of the shot glasses. "Well, if you need a good listener, that's why I'm here. Other than being the enabler to you getting smashed plan."

"Thanks, but no manner of talking will make my problem go away."

"Okay. But at least give me your keys. I can't let you drive home drunk. Or I could call your-"

"No!" Wesley snarled. He squeezed his eyes shut and laid his head on the counter as he pulled out his keys. "Sorry, Henry. Thanks for your concern. It's just... I really don't feel like talking."

The young man shook his head. Mr. Wyndham-Pryce as far as he knew never got drunk when he was feeling blue. The Englishman had become less of a stick in the mud and more fun as of late, playing darts or hanging out with his buddy, Gunn. It must be something really bad for him to be here unknowingly to his close friends. But, what did he know? He was just a guy bartending for a living. Not a Psychiatrist.

Grateful that Henry took his keys but left the bottle, Wesley resumed with his plan. He tilted his head back and drank each burning shot of whiskey like a pro. His finger tips began to feel tingly, the buzz from the strong beverage starting to deliver its desired effects. Except for his brain. Alcohol was supposed to fog your mind and slow the thinking process, not enhance it!

"Bloody whiskey! Not like the ale from home."

Blaming where the brand of whiskey was from didn't do anything of use to make him feel better. Despite what people may think of him, he's always been able to hold his liquor well. Even the night when Cordy, Gunn, and he had gotten drunk over their unemployment status, he was able to fight that demon in Cordy's vision... Well, not very well, but he and the other two survived the night while being quite intoxicated. That at least counted for something.

He lifted the shot glass up, studying the dark brown liquid. Funny how once he lectured an old school chum of his (who had a tendency to be depressed all the time) on the sheer foolishness of drowning your sorrows in a beverage that has physiological damaging effects. It's basically a depressant. Combine that with a person severely depressed, well, the consequences were not pretty. Yet there he was, trying to absorb as much alcohol as possible. Hypocrite could be added to the name category that he started for himself.

"How grand is this? My only son, drinking away the last of his brain cells rather than facing the problem."

Wesley snorted, draining his shot glass in rebellion.

"You know, you shouldn't talk. I know where you keep your special scotch hidden away from mother's eyes."

"That my boy is for leisure; not to forget all about pressing matters."

Wesley chuckled. "You always ran from personal problems. Dropping me off at the Watcher academy at the tender age of five. Letting the professors to teach me what it was to be a man. Though even they couldn't prepare me for life outside of the Mother land."

Some patrons in the pub looked at the mumbling Englishman, apparently talking to himself. In that city, all learned to stay away from those who speak to themselves.

"Don't be so dramatic, Wesley. You always had a tendency to blow things out of proportion. And, if my memory is correct, it was you who went against the Watcher's council and sided with the vampire and that psychotic slayer, which I may add was your fault in the first place - considering her mental health."

"Shut up," Wesley whispered.

"And now, instead of leaning on what you have learned, you still side with the vampire. The prophecy is true; you have already seen the signs of the monsters return. And yet you do nothing but drink. And you call yourself a leader!"

"I said-"

"Loa, the Truth Keeper, told you that the vampire will devour his child! Angelus is just around the corner. Yes, he has a soul, but that doesn't change what he is. Or rather, who. Angel is Angelus. Just with a soul. Sooner or later, he will be released from his conscious. By some prophecy or because of the seer who opens her thighs-"

"I SAID SHUT-UP!"

Now everyone was staring at him. But he didn't care. His father's voice has taunted him for too long. Though now, it was only a figment of his imagination. Maybe getting drunk wasn't such a good idea.

"Holtz will come. He will not care if there is a child or humans in the way. As long as the child is in Angel's possession, lives will be in danger."

Growing fed up with his conscious form of his father, he paid for the whiskey, with tip, and left.

"Yes, Angel is technically Angelus with a soul," Wesley said aloud as he attempted to hail a cab. "But he is also completely different and separate then the demon within... Makes no sense, and yet Angel has never made any sense."

"Connor and everyone you hold dear will die."

"Maybe... And Maybe not," Wesley replied, a cab now pulling up. "But I at least have a choice to warn him. Cordelia's right. Secrets in our line of work are never good."

"Whatever you say, man," said a hobo sitting on a bench nearby. He shook his head, nudging the empty air beside him as the young man left in his yellow taxi. "And people call me crazy."

A

Angel knew that his unusual happy humming was freaking out Cordy, but sometimes, you just have to hum. At least he wasn't singing that had to count for something. Besides, Connor liked the way his daddy hummed and sings, unlike some people he knew.

No, he was going to hum as much as he wanted too. For life was perfect! Well, great. Perfect would be when his soul is finally anchored and all evil decides to give up. And when his friends would stop poking him whenever he grinned. That was getting old. Kind of a damper when everyone poked or pinched him when he was attempting to be less broody and more... optimistic. Just because he was humming didn't mean he was blissful!

"Ow! Cor, stop that!"

"Then stop humming! You and humming don't fit in the same sentence, let alone you actually doing it."

"For the last time, I'm just in a good mood. Besides, you told me once to make a sound when sneaking up on you."

"Yeah, when I wasn't aware of your manly presence. But all the smiling and humming while folding clothes is just... wrong."

He felt the childish urge to stick his tongue out at his seer and lover. But he wasn't that care free. "Wasn't it you who said I should smile more?"

"Don't stray from the point, Broody."

"Great, you ruined my gay mood."

Cordelia arched an eyebrow as she helped him fold some of Connor's clothes on Angel's bed. "What did you say?"

"Here I was, actually taking your advice and not brooding over my past, and then you and the others poke and pinch me. Even Fred grabbed a stake and joined in."

"Did you say you were in a gay mood?"

Angel shrugged. He didn't know what was so shocking about him being a little happy. "Yeah, so? So I'm a little happy; it's not like I'm going to go all homicidal and torture, maim, and kill our family."

"Oh." She grinned sheepishly. "That gay. I was just starting to wander if you preferred to use the potion on Wesley or Gunn."

Angel continued to fold, that is, until the realization dawned on him. His eyes widened and his head snapped up. He looked at his girlfriend with surprise.

"What? No! Not that... I mean, gay in my time meant happy. I love women! I mean, sure, there was that time when Spike and I kissed, but that was because we got covered in a Labriel demon's blood, which causes small spurts of uncontrollable sexual urges. But that was as far as we went-"

"Whoa! Too much information!" Cordy laughed, placing her hand over his mouth. "I was just teasing, Angel... Oh my God, you and Spike actually kissed! No wander you two act like you hate each other. Hey!"

Cordy tore her hand away when he licked it.

"It was that demon's fault. And what part of only kissing did you not unders-"

Cordy's laughter stopped his sulking immediately as the beauty of that laugh and smile played the strings of his heart like a professional violinist. He reached up and cupped her cheek, which slowly halted her laughter. Her eyes turned to a sinful toffee color as she leaned into his touch.

"I love it when you laugh."

"And I love it when you smile."

"And I'm going to be sick if you two start up all that mushy stuff," retorted a loud, obnoxious voice.

"Charles! You get just as mushy when we complement each other."

Angel watched as the couple entered his suite and settled Connor back in Cordy's eager arms.

"Babe, you know that I can't let these people know that I have a soft side," Gunn half admonished and joked. Fred rolled her eyes.

"Well, we're going out," Fred announced. "So, we probably won't be available for any babysitting."

"Yeah, so if y'all get with the big nasty, please get it over with before my girl gets home. These walls ain't thick enough to keep that kind of noise out."

"Charles!" Fred said with a blush of embarrassment.

Cordy grinned despite of her own blush. "I guess we can call it a day. Wesley hasn't called, so leave the doors unlocked. He'll probably stop by later. He always does."

"We probably won't be back by then," Gunn replied while wiggling his eyebrows up and down, leering at Fred. The Texan slapped his arm while giggling as they left to go on their date.

"And they say we're bad," Cordy snorted, turning her attention on the sweet, baby. "Hello, baby-face."

Connor gave a small, fussy, cry; kicking his legs while tiny hands reached out and latched around one breast. His little mouth open and closed, looking for food.

"Awww. Sorry, little man. No food for ya there."

"It's about time for his next feeding. Speaking of which, I could go for something myself," Angel replied, getting up to get the formula ready, along with another glass of blood.

A knock at the door didn't detour him from his mission as he lit the gas stove.

"Come on in."

The smell of liquor was very much in the air for certain vampy senses to detect before Wes even opened the door. "Guess I should put on a pot of coffee as well. Sit down, relax. Then tell me why your walk ended with a visit to a bar."

"Wesley's drunk?" Cordy asked, surprised.

"No, just a bit tipsy," Wesley replied, his words clear and a bit disappointed. "I'm sorry. I know that this is not the way a leader should behave-"

"Don't sweat it. Angel has out done ya there with his beige period."

Angel growled low, ignoring her grin.

"How are you doing? Really?"

"I've had better days," Wesley replied, sitting down on Angel's bed as Cordy went to set the baby back in his cradle.

"I know the feeling," Angel replied, setting the bottle in the pot. Feeling a bit impatient for the blood to heat up in the microwave, he took it out earlier than usual and licked his lips.

"And that's why I'm here," Cordy said as she turned and looked at her friend. "Now that I have done the impossible and chased away Mr. Broody and let Mr. Humming-Dark-Avenger in, I can focus on you."

Her teasing smile turned into a frown as Wesley crossed his arms to hide trembling hands.

"Actually, that would be nice. I... I have had a lot on my mind... Things have been... difficult. Holtz, Aubrey-"

"Yeah, I figured it out."

Angel's sensitive hearing heard the way Wes's heart beat increased. He drank some of his blood eagerly due to that simple thing. He walked over and sat down in the chair beside his bed. Setting the drink down on a nearby beside table, he resumed folding laundry. Wesley just stared at the vampire as Cordelia watched conflicting emotions display themselves across his face.

"Oh?"

"How something about Aubrey didn't seem right with me. All that pain, rage, hatred. Just below the surface... the only way she could deal with all of that was to join Holtz. To have her revenge... You know how I knew that?"

"Because you would do the same thing." Wesley replied.

Angel sighed, almost smiling as he looked up at his friend. "It scares me. You know? If anything like that ever happened to Connor, I'd... I love my son."

Angel peeked at Cordelia as she leaned against one of the open french glass doors. There was no judging or fear, only acceptance and something akin to what he felt on the matter. A mother's love and protectiveness over the safety of her child.

"Love's a terrible thing."

Cordy snorted at Wes's reply.

"Please! Love may bring hurt when that certain person is the cause, but it's not terrible. Things done in the name of love is bad, but the right kind of love itself isn't wrong or selfish. Getting hurt is a risk you take. Cut out the obsessive and forbidden Romeo and Juliet part, and you just might make it through."

Both men looked at her with astonishment. Cordy shrugged. "Hey, you two may have had tragic love encounters, but from what I've learned from it; when it's given and in turn given back without all the bull crap that's usually tagging along with it, it can be a beautiful thing."

Angel felt himself going soft and hard at the same time. "You really feel that way about me?"

"Well, duh!" She replied with her trade mark mega watt grin. "Don't you feel that way about me?"

Angel nodded truthfully. "Yeah. No burning my bones to ash and ripping me apart... Well, only a little with you and Groo all over each other."

"I thought we got passed all of that?" Cordy grumbled. "You know that I feel bad for letting it get that far with my denial sickness."

"Just nice to hear it," Angel replied, satisfied with her answer. He turned his attention back to Wesley. "The point is that with Connor, it's a different kind of love. With him, it's... No matter what I do or what he does, that love is going to be there. No putting my heart on the line. It's instinctual, almost. I can't really explain it. It's something you have to experience to really know, you know?"

Wes smiled, looking down. His chest rumbled as he began to chuckle, and then laugh. His laughter surprised both Cordelia and Angel, but in a pleasant way. There was no bitterness there, only relief and a genuine happiness. It was contagious, causing the other two to join in.

"What's so funny?" Angel laughs as he gets up to go check on the bottle and coffee.

"Life. Life is funny. Listening to stupid people talking to hamburgers and hearing their father's voice in their head is funny. Worrying about things that will never... It's all incredibly funny and - and beautiful."

Cordy arched her perfect eyebrow. "When you mention talking to hamburgers and hearing voices; that isn't you, is it?'Cause that is definitely the first signs of being drunk, not tipsy. Or insane."

Wesley grinned as Angel wiped the hot water off of the bottle. "No, for the first time this week, my mind is actually free-"

As if sensing the direction Wesley was leaning toward, fate stepped in and demolished the moment of peace and serenity. The ground rumbling and the building quaking was the first of the signs foretold to begin.

A/N: I just had to do it and leave you there. I'm just mean that way. Seriously, I am. I'm sitting here laughing at your outrage… Not really. But I do like writing cliff hangers.