Disclaimer: I own nothing but this story that won't leave my head.

Angel blinked as he removed his mug of blood from the desk and took a sip. It was a slow night for Angel Investigations. Doyle hadn't had a vision for a few days and things were looking to be almost, well, boring. Connor was doing well in school and his human parents believed that he was interning for Angel as a learning experience. Wesley was off in the kitchen locked in debate with Doyle about something or another. Fred and Gunn were returning from dispatching some demonic pest that an local amateur Wicca had accidentally conjured up. Lorne was in his room rehearsing for a lounge act at his club, Caritas. Cordelia was on a date with some producer from an audition she'd gone to the day before. That, Angel figured, was the reason Doyle was debating Wesley. In the close to five years the two men had worked together they had never exactly gotten along. From the groans coming from the kitchen Doyle must really not enjoy Wesley's company. The half-demon staggered into Angel's office carrying a bottle of aspirin in one hand and an empty scotch glass in the other.

"Girl," he gasped. "Alleyway. 'Bout three blocks from here."

About three blocks away at a rather expensive restaurant sat Cordelia Chase, and she was dead bored. It wasn't that Julian wasn't rich or handsome; he was both. And it wasn't that he was boring or lacked charm; he wasn't, he didn't. It was the fact that he had those qualities that bored her. All Cordelia could think about was what her friends would think if they saw her making nice with this rich ass. As these thoughts went through her head she was a flash of sweeping black leather followed by a nondescript sweep which was then followed by a sweep of brown leather. Cordelia looked up from her fois gras to the sight of Doyle standing on the sidewalk. He walked over out of breath and spoke.

"Cordy, we got a case. Angel needs all of us on board. Now." Cordelia nodded and turned to her date. "Gotta go," she said. "Duty calls." Thanking God for deciding to wear flats she rushed off after the half-demon. In truth she felt bad about leaving Julian there without an explanation, but saving people from demons didn't sound like a good enough excuse. She finally caught up to Doyle and Wesley in an alleyway separating two nice apartment complexes. Giving Doyle a questioning look he pointed around a corner where the unmistakable sounds of a fight were coming from. It soon became Cordelia's turn to point when a gang of vampires appeared behind Doyle and Wesley. They turned and the fight immediately grew in intensity. Doyle tossed Cordelia a crossbow and switched to his demon from giving him added strength. Wesley took on two with a couple of well-planned stakes to the heart while Cordelia dispatched one with the crossbow. By the time Angel had come out of his fight the party had really gotten started. Within minutes the gang of vampires was no more. Dole, still in demon form, sniffed the air.

"Smell that?" he asked Angel, reverting back to his human half. Angel nodded. Doyle walked toward a dumpster about twenty feet away and started to move it back. He was startled by a shove backward as the small figure darted like a bat out of Hell straight into Angel. Slowly she looked up into his face and a look of pure terror crossed her features.

"Angelus," she breathed before she collapsed backward into Cordelia.

Back at the Hyperion Angel Investigations surrounded the girl who was out cold on a sofa. They'd determined that she was in no real danger, she just had a few scrapes and bruises.

"Who is she?" Wesley wondered.

"Kiranna C. Osbourne, age eighteen. 5'2, 120 pounds, and she's an organ donor."

Everyone turned toward Cordelia who held up a driver's license. "What?" she said. "Her wallet fell out of her...oh God..." Angel walked over to see what had made Cordelia react. It was a photograph of a woman about twenty-seven with what looked like Kiranna at age ten.

"Aunt Jenny and Kira, December 1997," Angel read.

"So that's what the 'C' stands for, said Cordelia. "Calendar."

"She's a gypsy," Doyle added. "Or half, anyway." The half-gypsy on the couch suddenly began to stir. Slowly her eyes opened, then turned wide with fear at the people surrounding her. It didn't help that Lorne was Pylean or that Doyle chose that moment to sneeze and display his demon face. She sat up quickly and peered at them suspiciously.

"Angelus," she said coldly. "Happy now? Happy that you've almost stamped us all out? You killed her," she said. "Without mercy, without pity. Didn't even feed off her either. Just snapped her neck like she was garbage." The others just stood there not saying anything. Cordelia realized that someone had to say something and, being Cordelia, she spoke.

"Do you have anywhere to go?" Kiranna shook her head.

"Look Kiranna," Wesley began.

"Kira," said the girl. "No one calls me 'Kiranna.'"

"Kira," he began again. "Do you want somewhere to stay?" Kira looked at him incredulously.

"Do you REALLY think I would want to stay in the lair of a VAMPIRE who is responsible for the destruction of my FAMILY!" Connor chose that moment to walk in.

"So what's going on?" Everyone turned and Lorne chose to answer.

"Well kiddo," he said, "this girl is one of the gypsies that got pissed off at Angelcakes back in the day. Doyle over there had a vision and we went to save her. She's kinda got the wrong idea of your dad..." He trailed off there at Kira's look.

"'Dad'?" she asked. "Angel has a SON?"

"Long story darlin'," Doyle said. "The kid's human and Angel here's on a path to redemption."

"Redemption?" Kira asked. "For a vampire?" Doyle nodded. "So you won't kill me?" Angel nodded.

"Where's your family?" Kira looked at the floor.

"I lived with my mom," she said. "My dad and stepmom died two years ago in a car accident. My brother due to reasons of his own left California four years ago and hasn't been seen since." Her eyes held a spark of fire as she continued. "The vamps at my building tonight killed every living thing they could. They fed off my mom. I ran out the fire escape and hid behind a dumpster. They were looking for me when you found me." Wesley repeated his previous question.

"Do you want to stay here?"

"Fight with us," Fred chimed in.

"We're Angel Investigations," Cordelia added. "We help the hopeless."

Kira nodded.

Three hours later Kira stared at the ceiling. She was comfortable enough in the room Connor had shown her to. Before anything, however, Lorne had asked her to sing so he could read her. She complied, delivering a rather nice rendition of Sarah McLachlan's "Adia". Lorne had given her an odd look.

"You're a witch," he said. "Aren't you honey?" She'd nodded and Lorne had turned to Angel. "She's clean." Clean. She didn't feel too clean. She felt guilty for running when her mother had been killed before her very eyes. Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. Unlocking it with telekinesis she called: "Come in." It was that guy...Connor. She sat up and turned her light on.

"Hey," he said. "Long day?" Kira nodded wearily. Connor gave Kira a searching look as if he knew what she was thinking. "You shouldn't feel guilty," he said. "It's not your fault your mother died. It's theirs." Kira gave a small smile.

"How'd you guess?" Connor grinned.

"I've felt my share of guilt," he said. "Besides I've learned from the master." Kira smiled a bit more.

"Why are you all being so nice to me?" she asked.

"You heard Cordelia," Connor replied. "We help people."

At this time Cordelia was sitting in the kitchen drinking tea. It'd been a long night. Doyle walked in and went over to the cabinet, taking out a bottle of scotch.

"Your date call?" he asked. Cordelia shook her head. "No matter," Doyle continued. "I don't think he was as good-looking as the last one. Producer, huh? He's certainly got money." Cordelia looked a bit mad.

"Five years of knowing me and that's all you think about me? That that's all I want?" she asked angrily. "Screw it. I'm going home." And with that she left, walking past a confused Angel. Doyle just sat there, calmly drinking his scotch.

"Cordy left in a hurry," Angel observed. Doyle nodded. "She looked a bit angry." Doyle nodded again. "What did you say to her?"

"Nothin'," Doyle answered innocently. Angel sighed.

"Doyle, It's obvious you're crazy about her and I happen to know for a fact that she loves you. Why doesn't one of you just do something?" Doyle ignored his friend, continuing to drink. When he swallowed the last drop he spoke.

"Angel, I don't think she's ready," he said. "Or that I'm ready. Angel man, I just can't." Angel nodded.

"At least you have a reason."

Doyle walked up to his room. He'd kept his apartment for at least two years after the business had moved to the Hyperion, but after the fifth fumigation he'd decided to move to the hotel. Cordelia had kept her place, however, and was happily keeping house with Phantom Dennis. Doyle took out his key and unlocked the door. He'd taken most of the furnishings from his old place and it wasn't much different with the exception of a distinct lack of roaches, a TV, and plumbing that actually worked.

Jesus, what was he doing here? He should be going after her. Telling her he's sorry. Something, anything to show her how he really felt. It had all gone downhill after the incident five years earlier that had almost claimed his life until Ki-

His eyes shot open and he looked down the hall where Kira slept. He thought of the pale, frightened girl; the same red hair and green-tinted dark eyes that had laughed and joked with him that brief period five years ago. He remembered the look in her eyes when she realized her fate. Doyle ran down the stairs like a bullet out of a gun toward Angel's office.

"It's her!" he gasped. "Kira's the girl from five years ago!" Angel nodded.

"I know."