Wesley woke up with a feeling of surprise. He got out of bed and headed into the bathroom to stare at himself in the mirror. It was something he hadn't done in a while. "I'm alive." He marveled "That will have to be corrected." He got in the shower and thought about his first real sleep in a good while. He thought about his reflection. He hated that reflection. He got out of the shower, dried off, and then got dressed. It occurred to him that this was all pointless, a waste of water, and a waste of air. He was going to kill himself, why bother? But some habits die hard and he found himself sitting at his desk clean and well-groomed. The scotch was still there where he had poured it yesterday. He opened his drawer to remove the container of pills. His phone rang. He hesitated, then picked up the phone. "Hello," Who would be calling him?
"Is this Wesley Wyndam-Pryce, the paranormal guy?" A man asked
"Yes," Too late he considered lying and saying the man had the wrong number.
"I have a paranormal problem. I own a magic shop, mostly cater to tourists and wannabes, but sometimes the real deal shows up. A demon has moved in, wants payment or she'll eat my customers. I'm at the end of my rope. Can you help me?" Wesley wanted to say no, wanted to finish this. He was silent for so long the man thought he had hung up. "Hello,"
"Yes I'm here, yes I can help you."
"Great," The man's relief was audible. "Thank you."
…
Cordelia hurried through her morning preparations in order to be at the hotel as early as possible. She wanted to be there when Angel woke up, make sure he was okay. To be honest Cordelia wasn't sure if she was okay herself. The sting of Conner's betrayal after months of caring for him like a son was still fresh. But Angel needed her and that had to take priority. She looked around for her keys and they shot from the kitchen counter to the air in front of her where they levitated. "Thanks phantom Dennis, I couldn't live without you." She gave him a wave as she headed out the door. She was halfway to her car when she felt the vision coming on.
She could feel the sensations as though they were a part of a dimension parallel to her own, one she was allowed the occasional brief glimpse into. She was still aware of everything around her, but the vision realm was just as real. There was a dark room filled with boxes. One of the boxes had an urn in it. This urn was really important, life or death important. They had to get it. The sense of urgency Cordelia felt was unlike any she had felt before. She ran the last few steps to her car. She was going to have to run a few red lights this morning.
…
Wesley walked through the front door of the small magic shop. He looked around at the dim lighting and dust. This place looked like it had been closed for a while. He saw a man walk out from the back room. "Great," The man from the phone said "You're here."
"So where's this demon?" Wesley asked "I have an appointment to get to."
"Sure, sure," The man said "She said she was stopping by for the money at nine o'clock and that's in twenty minutes, so she should be here soon." The man looked nervous.
Wesley reached into his bag and pulled out a vial of powder and a sword. "From your description I believe I identified the sub-species. This powder will disorient her enough for me to sever its head. Decapitation should be final, but you should burn the body just in case."
"The whole body, or just the headless part?"
"Whatever you feel most comfortable with." Wesley said in a very dry voice
"Right, that was a stupid question." The man said
Wesley felt a pang of sympathy for the man, he seemed familiar somehow. "No, it wasn't." Wesley assured him "You're obviously very new to this."
"Yeah," The man was almost shaking. "How about you?"
"How about me what?"
"How long have you been doing this?" The man asked
"Too long," That seemed to kill the conversation, which was good because it allowed Wesley to hear the noises in the back when the demon entered through the back door. Wesley gestured for the man to step away from the door to the storage room. Wesley entered with caution and saw the large grotesque demon. It turned around and snarled at Wesley, yellow puss dripping from between its fangs. Wesley threw the vial and it shattered at the demon's feet. The demon took a step back, puzzled. Wesley swung his sword and neatly decapitated the demon. He was almost disappointed by how easy it was. Wesley stepped forward to examine where the body had fallen between a wooden crate and a stone sarcophagus. He paused in front of the sarcophagus. There was something about it, something important. He reached out to touch a crystal on the stone lid. A circular pattern in the sarcophagus unwound and released a puff of warm fetid air. Wesley inhaled the air and coughed. He waved the air away. The pattern had closed, as if it had never been open. Wesley grasped his throat, feeling his scar.
"Are you okay?"
Wesley turned around and saw the shop owner enter from the front of the store. "Yes I'm fine." Wesley said "The demon is dead." Wesley gestured to the body. "Problem solved,"
The man reached into his pocket and pulled out a wallet. Wesley was tempted to tell the man to keep his money, it wasn't like Wesley was going to need it. But the man might ask questions and Wesley just wanted to get home and finish this. He had delayed enough. "I can't thank you enough." The man said "If you ever need magic supplies you have a discount here."
"Thanks," Wesley's throat felt sore, maybe his old wound had gotten infected.
"No, I really appreciate this. That thing would have driven me out of business."
"Right," Wesley massaged his throat. For no reason he felt the need to ask the man something. "What is that?" Wesley pointed to the stone sarcophagus, it must have weighed a ton.
The man shrugged. "I got it really cheap, and it looks spooky. I figured someone would want it. Why, do you? I can cut you a great deal, like I said I didn't pay much for it."
Wesley shook his head. He felt his blood pounding through his arteries. The pressure against his temple was painful. "I was just curious about the markings, they are peculiar."
"I have no idea what they mean." The man said "I know surprisingly little about magic for a magic shop owner." The man chuckled; it was a nervous chuckle, like he feared judgment.
Wesley rubbed the side of his head. "Well I have to go." He started for the exit.
"Thanks again!" The man called after him "Remember that discount!" The shop owner approached the sarcophagus and stared at the crystals embedded in the lid. It had been strange the way the man who had sold him the sarcophagus had just showed up and said he would sell it at any price. The seller had seemed almost desperate to get rid of the thing. The shop owner shrugged and set to pulling the demon's body over to the furnace.
…
"Is this it?" Gunn held up a book opened to a picture of a vase.
"No Gunn, an urn, not a vase." Cordelia said after a brief glance
They were all sitting behind the front counter flipping through books Wesley had left behind at the hotel. The four of them were looking for Cordelia's urn. "What's the difference?"
"Urns are… urnier." Fred told her boyfriend
"Thank you Fred." Gunn said with an almost convincing sincerity "That was helpful."
"Guys focus." Angel said "Cordy said this is important."
"It is." Cordelia said "When I had my vision I had this sense of-" She put her hands up, trying to capture what she had felt. "Something powerful, something coming," She paused. "It's a bad thing, whatever is coming." She looked down at her book. "This urn will help us fight whatever it is." She closed the book. "No that's not it. The urn doesn't help us fight." She sighed and rubbed her temples. "I don't know." She confessed "I just know it matters, a lot."
"We'll find it." Fred said "Won't we?"
"Sure," Gunn said "One urny urn, coming up." Fred gave him a good-natured shove.
"Here!" Angel handed his book to Cordelia.
"Yes this is it!" Cordelia almost jumped out of her chair with excitement. "The Urn of Possession, it traps souls. Why would we need that?" She looked at her friends.
"I don't know, it was your vision." Gunn said
"Well when we find the urn, we can figure out what it's for." Angel said
"So where is it?" Gunn asked
Cordelia looked at Angel's book. "Forged in the eternal flame, blah, blah, blah; buried for a hundred centuries, blah, blah, blah, foretold to be the final resting place of powerful old one, blah, blah, blah, it doesn't say." Cordelia closed the book. "Luckily our friend Google is here."
…
Wesley staggered into his apartment. His headache had gotten progressively worse on the drive back. It kind of sucked that he was going to die with a headache, but oh well. He had helped the shop owner, done one last good deed, and now he was ready to go. No hesitations this time, no interruptions. He would do what he had been planning to for months. He headed straight for the bottle of pills and the still poured glass of scotch. He poured the handful of pills into his palm and put them in his mouth. He forced himself to swallow the hard dry pills. He put the glass of scotch against his lips and downed the harsh liquid. Wesley felt it burn as it chased the pills down his throat. He sat down heavily is his desk chair. Wesley reached for his pounding head. His vision blurred. He felt a moment of panic. This was the end, but what if he'd forgotten something? He fell out of his chair onto the ground. The room spun, then everything went dark.
…
Angel looked over Cordelia's shoulder at the picture that was identical to the one in their book, except this one was in color. It was also on an auction house website with a thirty million dollar price tag under it. "Are you sure we need this specific urn?" Angel asked
"There are other soul-holding urns, Sahjhan is in one." Fred said
"We need this one." Cordelia said "It's very important."
"You mentioned that." Gunn said
"Well where are we going to get thirty million dollars?" Fred asked
"We aren't." Angel said "We're going to steal it."
Fred sighed. "My daddy told me I would fall in with a bad crowd if I moved to L.A."
"Isn't that sort of the opposite of what we do here?" Gunn asked
"Cordy how important is this thing?" Angel asked
"Life or death important," She told him "Maybe world ending important,"
Gunn sighed. "Sometimes I hate my job."
"Come on Gunn," Angel clapped the man on the back. "Haven't you ever fantasized about living out one of those heist movies?"
"Sure, I've imagined, but if I get caught in my imagination I get sent to imaginary jail."
Angel waved away Gunn's concerns. "We won't get caught."
"We won't?" Gunn asked
"Fred will use her super genius skills to come up with an infallible plan." Angel said
"I will?" Fred looked nervous.
"I have every confidence in you." Angel said
"Gee, thanks," She did look kind of excited through the sarcasm, despite herself.
…
Lilah sat at her desk, staring at her computer screen. Now that she was in charge she had a lot more work on her plate. But she still found time for the simple pleasures in life. One of them was knocking on her office door right now. "Come in Gavin." She said in a sing-song voice
Gavin came in, shaking with fear. He held out a file for her to take. She took the file and began to flip through the papers. Wolfram & Hart had put twenty-four hour surveillance on Conner after he had been evicted from the Hyperion. Lilah looked over Conner's movements. A vampire staked here, a demon hacked to bits there, but there was no rhyme or reason to it. "Why isn't there a report on the target's location from two hundred hours to two hundred forty five?"
Lilah looked up at the trembling Gavin. She didn't even try to pretend she wasn't enjoying herself. "The surveillance team briefly lost him, but they picked him right back up."
"Huh," Lilah seemed to consider this. "See I put you in charge of this project, which means any failures by the surveillance team are your failures. Why did you fail me Gavin?"
"I'm sorry," He said "It won't happen again."
"That's okay Gavin." She stood up and put a comforting hand on his shoulder. He flinched. "If it does I'll just set you on fire and cut your head off. The order I'm not sure of yet."
Gavin swallowed. "There will be no more failures."
"Good," Lilah patted his shoulder. She sat back down at her desk and didn't give him a second look. "Now get out." Gavin was happy to oblige. Lilah leaned back in her chair. Life was good. She picked up the file and began to lend it closer scrutiny.
…
Angel stared at the high gate they would have to scale. "No problem,"
"Says the superhuman freak," Gunn muttered
"Come on," Cordelia said "We have a time limit."
Angel pointed his grappling hook gun at the top of the gate. He fired and the hook caught the top of the gate. He tugged at the cord. "Feels safe,"
"Says the guy who won't die if it breaks." Gunn muttered again
"Charles," Fred said
"Okay, okay," Gunn grabbed the cord. "I'll go first." Gunn started to scale the wall.
The four of them scaled the gate and ended up in front of the side door. Angel pried off the lid to the fuse box. He ripped out the wires. Fred plugged the gadget she had thrown together in a few hours into the electronic keypad. In a few moments it blinked green and the door opened. "We all know our jobs right?" She asked to a collection of nods
"You and I go to the security station and I knock out the guards while you hack into the system. Cordy and Angel head over to the vault and grab the urn. Easy as pie." Gunn said
"Except pie doesn't carry a twenty year sentence." Fred said nervously
"Don't worry," Cordelia said "We can do this."
Gunn and Angel nodded, then started off in opposite direction. Cordelia and Fred shared a look of exasperation. "Guys," Said Fred
Gunn and Angel switched directions. Cordy followed Angel and Fred followed Gunn, the women sharing a final look of commiseration. Angel and Cordy made their way to the vault. The urn was in a satin bag on a pedestal surrounded by green lasers. "I don't think my cheerleading skills are sufficient to get through that." Cordelia said
"Fred will fix it." Angel said confidently
At that moment a gate came down from the ceiling, blocking the entrance. "Good job Fred." Cordelia said "That helps." Angel got to his knees and tried to lift the gate.
A woman in a black skin-tight body suit came down from the ceiling holding onto a black cord. She was upside down, suspended above the urn. She smiled at Cordelia and Angel. "I put that down for a reason." She informed them as she reached down to touch the green lasers
"Who are you?" Angel gaped at the lasers that instead of triggering an alarm bent upwards, giving her a clear shot at the urn. She grabbed the urn, smiling at Angel and Cordelia.
"We need that!" Cordelia protested "Why don't you take something else?"
"Because I want this." The cat burglar said "Duh,"
"Please," Angel said "The fate of the world depends on us getting that urn."
Cordelia sighed and shook her head. "She's never going to believe that Angel."
"She's right." The cat burglar said
"But it's true." Angel said
"Doesn't mean she'll believe it." Cordelia said, exasperated "Sometimes you kill me."
"Well you two look like you have some issues to resolve." The cat burglar said "I'll just be going now." Before she had a chance to rise through the ceiling an alarm went off and the gate went up. Angel smiled and rushed the cat burglar. She dropped the bag and landed a kick against Angel's face. She hit the ground, landing in a crouched position. She stood in time to block a punch from Angel and still managed to get thrown. Cordelia ran to collect the bag and the cat burglar kicked her in the gut. Cordelia fell as Gunn rushed into the room.
"I see you guys already know about our party crasher." He said
Angel continued to fight the thief. "Grab the urn!" He shouted
"Right," Gunn headed for the bag.
The burglar turned and shoved Gunn away. Where her black gloves connected with his shirt a blue spark erupted. Gunn dropped to the ground. Angel ran over to his friend and felt for a pulse just as Fred entered the room. Angel tried to process what he felt under the skin of Gunn's neck, but it didn't make sense to him. "He's dead." Angel said, but couldn't believe
The burglar paused, then made a decision. She ran up to Angel and Gunn, shoving Angel aside. She reached down and touched Gunn's shirt. She pushed against the fabric a couple times, releasing blue sparks each time until Gunn gasped and opened his eyes. The thief was already on her way over to where the bag rested. Cordelia was trying to collect the bag, but the cat burglar punched her in the face. Cordelia reeled back. The thief grabbed the bag in one hand and the cord in the other. She disappeared through the ceiling in moments. The four members of AI stared at each other and then at where the thief had been moments before. Angel helped Gunn to his feet.
…
Wesley opened his eyes to get a good look at hell. It looked a lot like his apartment. He pushed himself off the ground and staggered to the bathroom. He looked in the mirror at a pale sweaty imitation of himself. He touched his face and pulled his hand away. His skin burned, it was so hot touching it was painful. Wesley started to fill the sink basin with cold water. His head still hurt, but other than that he felt fine. This wasn't hell, not unless they had downsized due to budget cuts. He splashed some cold water on his face and heard it sizzle. That wasn't normal.
Wesley felt a sick feeling in his gut. He barely had time to lean over the toilet before the bile came up his throat, burning his tender esophagus. Among the acidic contents of his stomach were a handful of undigested pills. Wesley cupped his hands under the sink faucet and brought the cold water to his lips. He sipped the cool liquid. "That's impossible." He spoke to no one. No one replied. "I should be dead." Wesley told the silence "I took more than twice what I needed to. I should be a rotting corpse. Why am I still alive?" He slammed his hand against the sink basin. His hand slid into the water. He felt the temperature of the water go up as it suffered from prolonged contact with his burning skin. He pulled out his hand. "What's happening to me?"
It was curious, a puzzle. Wesley loved puzzles. But like all of the other pleasures he managed to find in life puzzles had lost their allure. Whatever it was, it would die with him. He headed for the closet to get his pistol. He had vetoed the idea on the grounds that the noise would disturb his neighbors and the land lady would have to clean up the mess. He didn't want to bother anyone. But the pills hadn't worked and if he hadn't been able to drink himself to death in three months he wouldn't be able to in a day. Desperate times called for desperate measures. He made sure the gun was loaded and looked at it. It was such a beautiful machine, deadly, efficient.
Wesley heard the absolute silence of his apartment. The silence was heavy, cold. It calmed his fever. The weight of the gun in his hand was power, the power over life and death. He could choose to live, or to die. He could point the barrel at himself or put it down. The noise, it would disturb the neighbors. Some of the people who lived in this building had kids. If the kids heard the gunshot and asked their parents what had happened, the parents might have to explain that a neighbor had shot himself. He didn't want to be responsible for an innocent kid finding out early about the hard cruel world. Wesley unloaded the gun and put it back in the closet. He walked into the kitchen and picked up a butcher knife. He held his arm over the sink. This wasn't as certain, but it wasn't as though anyone would find him before he bled out. Wesley put the point of the knife against his wrist and in a single quick movement he drew the blade along the vein. The skin parted and released a flow of blood. But the flow lasted only for a moment.
Wesley stared in shock and horror as the blood coagulated with an impossible speed. The blood caked up at the site of the slit. He stopped bleeding in seconds. Wesley dropped the bloody knife on the kitchen floor. He stared at his arm. "This is impossible." Wesley backed out of the kitchen. He entered his study and picked up the bottle of very expensive scotch. He downed half the bottle. He stared at his arm. He clawed at the dried blood and the flow resumed, only to stop in less time than before. Wesley's own body was revolting against him. "This is impossible."
…
Gunn stared at the printed readout from the heart monitor. "Doesn't look like much."
Fred entered the room. "Hey," She looked nervous, like she was afraid he would collapse into dust and float away. "How do you feel?" She walked up to his bedside and sat down.
He reached up and touched her hair. "I feel great." He said "You're here."
"Stop it." She said quietly, no playfulness in her voice "I'm serious."
"Well don't be." He said "You're too serious."
"I can't lose you too." She said "I keep losing people, not you, okay?"
He leaned forward and kissed her. "Okay," He said "I promise."
…
Conner felt exhaustion weigh on his eyelids. He needed to sleep, but he didn't want to stop walking. He wasn't safe, it was never safe. Holtz had told him, he could never rest, he could never sleep. He had felt safe at the Hyperion, but that had been a lie. Nowhere was safe. He continued to walk down the street, looking for somewhere, anywhere, where he could rest. But there was no such place. A woman approached him, a threat? She spoke. "Are you okay?"
Conner looked at her. Petite, blond, but there was a strength to her. She looked tough, like she was capable of weathering awful storms. He stared. "Who are you?" He growled
She looked like she wanted to retreat, but she didn't take as much as a step back. "I'm Anne, I run a teen homeless shelter a few blocks down. You look really tired."
"I am." Conner said "I'm very tired."
"Well you can sleep there if you want." She said "We have room."
He shook his head. "Not safe,"
"Maybe not," She agreed "But it's probably safer than just wandering around at night."
"I can't rest."
She nodded. "Well maybe you can just eat a hot meal and then lie down for a few hours."
He stared at her. "That sounds nice."
"What's your name?"
He hesitated. As a part of the ruse he had been using for the last three months he had been going by Conner. He had even come to think of himself as Conner. But he had been raised as Stephen. Who was he? Was he anybody? Anything? "I don't know."
She reached out and touched his shoulder. He stiffened, then relaxed. "It's okay."
"No," He shook his head. "It's not."
"Maybe you're right." She said "But I'm here to help you make it be. Come on."
Conner followed her. He didn't know who she was, didn't trust her. But he liked her. He liked her kind voice and her gentle touch. She led him to the shelter she had spoken of. There she made him a bowl of soup and then led him to a room with four beds. Three of them were occupied, but the forth was made up and empty. She told him he didn't have to sleep if he didn't want to, but he did have to be quiet and leave the lights off. He laid down for a moment to gather his strength. He promised himself he wouldn't sleep, and that he would leave in a couple of hours. It took seconds for him to fall asleep, and he slept until dawn when pale light filtered in through the curtains. Conner snuck out of the room and ran from the building.
…
Angel approached the woman from behind. She was approaching a reflective elevator door, but of course his reflection was absent. "Hey," He said
She glanced behind her and then back at the elevator door. "Huh," She dropped the bag and in an instant was in full combat mode. She swung at Angel and he caught her punch.
"Who are you?" He asked "Really,"
"I might ask you the same question invisa-boy."
"I really do need that urn."
"I really need twelve million dollars." She said
"The urn is worth thirty."
"If my employer wanted to pay thirty million dollars, he would have just bought the thing legally." She said "What's so important about it anyway?"
"It holds souls." Angel explained before the thief's foot connected with his face
"And you need to hold a soul?"
"It's complicated." Angel said "My friend gets these visions from higher powers that tell us about people who need help or monsters that need to be killed. This urn will help us defeat one." Angel threw the cat burglar into the elevator. She kicked him when he approached, making him stumble onto the floor. She reached for the satin bag. "I'm telling the truth."
"Because liars never lie about whether or not they're lying." The thief put her hands on Angel's chest and he felt a surge of electricity flow into him. His heart beat for a moment. He stared at Gwen and felt his mind be hit with an assault of sensations, her smell, appearance, and the feeling of the electricity. He was alive for a moment and that feeling overcame him. He leaned forward and kissed her. She reciprocated, tounging him with a fury.
Before Angel could react further metal cylinders shot out of the wall, trapping them in the elevator. "What did you do?!" The thief asked
"I didn't do that." Angel said
"No, I did." A man in a suit appeared in the room.
"What is this?" The thief asked
"A double-cross," Angel's voice was heavy with loathing.
"I know it's a- shut up, nobody asked you." The burglar said
"Well Gwen, it was nice knowing you." Angel observed the man's affluence and arrogance. He was the kind of person who couldn't just kill a person, he had to tell them about it first. He had to brag about how he did it. Angel hated people like that.
"Is he one of yours?" Gwen gestured to Angel.
"I assumed he was one of yours, what with the make-out session." The wealthy man said
"You don't have to do this." Gwen said "The job is done, you can take your urn and I'll go." She picked up the bag and held it up in front of the bars. "You don't have to kill me."
"No, but I really want to."
"You really rub people the wrong way you know." Angel said
"And you're mister charming." She shot back
"This elevator is insulated." The wealthy man said "There is nothing for you to use your light show on. When I shut the doors and turn on the gas you'll be a dead woman."
Gwen hit the heavy bars, to no avail. "You'll pay for this."
"I rather think not." The elevator doors shut, cutting off their view of the wealthy murderer. Gas began to come in through the vents. Angel looked around for something to use.
"That son of a bitch," Gwen said
"Get down." Angel said "Stay close to the floor."
Gwen slid to the floor. "Why don't you?"
"I don't need to breath, stop talking or you'll use up your air."
"No reflection and doesn't breath, what the hell are you?"
Angel had an idea. "Do you know where the wiring is?"
"I can't blow this thing through the insulated walls."
"Just tell me where it is." Angel snapped
Gwen pointed and started to tip over. She was losing consciousness. Angel began to hit the wall where she had pointed. The plastic began to crack and bend inwards. Angel got through the wall to the wiring beneath and then grabbed Gwen's hand, using his body as a conduit for her electrical power. The doors shot open, revealing the wealthy man and his goons.
"Crap," The wealthy man said
Angel stormed out of the elevator and proceeded to take down the wealthy man's goons in short order. The wealthy man started to run for the exit, but Gwen had recovered and she blocked his way. He backed up, terrified of her touch. "I'm not so happy with you." She said
"Gwen please," He begged
"You want me to spare you?" She asked
"I'm sorry," He said "I'll pay you double."
She took a moment to consider this. "Triple,"
"That's more than the thing is-" He saw the look on her face and shut up.
"And he gets to keep the urn." She pointed to Angel. Angel was surprised by this turn of events, and just stood back watching. She stared at the wealthy man, he was shaking.
"Deal," He said
"So where's my money?"
"Right," He looked around for a conscious mook. One was starting to rise and the wealthy man ordered him to go get thirty-six million dollars from the safe.
Gwen took her money. "Always a pleasure to do business with you. Never call me again." She started for the exit. Angel ran into the elevator to grab his urn and then hurried after Gwen. "Sorry," She said when he caught up to her "I'm busy tonight."
"What?" He asked
"You wanted some more hot electric loving right?"
Angel was stunned. "Actually I was wondering why you let me keep the urn."
"Oh," This took her by surprise, but she recovered. "I didn't want that jerk to have it, and what am I going to do with some ancient flower-holder?" She said
"Actually it's- never mind." Angel smiled at her. "Thanks,"
She stopped in her tracks and turned to face him. They stood on the dimly lit sidewalk, examining each other. "Who are you?" She asked "Really."
"My name is Angel." He said
"And the invisible, heart usually doesn't beat thing…"
"I'm a vampire." He admitted
"Right," She rolled her eyes. "Fine, don't tell me."
"Is it really that much stranger than your ability to produce electricity?" He asked
She shrugged. "I guess not." She admitted. "Do you drink blood?"
"Animal blood," He said "Well I had human blood a few days ago, but that was a special case." Angel wondered why he felt the need to bring that up. It could have gone unsaid.
She raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment. "Okay Angel, maybe I'll look you up sometime." She winked at him and then took off. She was gone in seconds, leaving him alone on the sidewalk with the satin bag. Angel wanted to say something, but she was gone, and what would he say? Would he say he had a girlfriend? He didn't, not really. Angel sighed and headed back for the Hyperion. Part of him hoped he never saw Gwen again, part of him hoped he did.
…
Wesley sat down on the side of his bed holding the gun. This would work. He felt deep in his bones that this would work. He could just put the barrel in his mouth and pull the trigger. It would be so easy. He stared at the ground. The carpet was kind of dirty, he should vacuum, but soon it would be stained red. Did people always have weird thoughts like this before they killed themselves? For obvious reasons it would be hard to know for sure. Maybe he should write down what he was thinking. What was he thinking? He was thinking that his head hurt and that his skin burned. He was thinking that he wanted to rest. All he wanted was to rest. He put the gun on the nightstand and lay down on his bed. It would just be a quick rest. When he woke up he would feel better, and he could finish this. It would be over, all he wanted was for it to be over.
…
Cordelia watched Angel enter the hotel lobby with a black satin bag. "You're okay,"
"Did you think I wouldn't be?" He said with a smile
She walked up to him and put her arms around him. "I almost got Gunn killed."
Angel put the bag down and held her at arm's length. "What?"
"I insisted we have this stupid urn, and it almost got Gunn killed."
"The powers sent you a vision." Angel reminded her
"Yeah, me and my wonderful visions." Cordelia let out a bitter laugh. "Not good for a whole lot if you ask me. They never clue me in to the important stuff." She let the implication go unsaid. "We don't even know what the powers want us to do with this stupid thing."
"They'll let us know one way or another." Angel assured her
"Yeah," She sighed "So no trouble getting this thing from electro?"
Angel shook his head. "Nope, no problem." He let go of her. "I'm really tired though, think I'll go take a nap." He gave her an odd smile. "You need me?"
"No, go rest." She moved her hand down his arm.
Another odd smile bloomed on his lips. "See you later."
Cordelia watched him go. When he was up the stairs and out of sight she picked up the bag and carried it into the main office. She placed the bag on Wesley's old desk. She opened it and pulled out the urn. She examined the relic. "What do you want this for?"
The powers didn't answer of course. She opened the safe and put the urn inside. It was a question for another day. For now she wanted some rest too. She headed for her car.