Part Two

Much against his will, Angel had returned to the hotel. Once Cordelia had her coffee, she had insisted that he leave her be; give her some peace to try and work things through. He had protested, of course, she needed him there - for if she had any questions and to check she was alright after her head injury. But the woman had insisted and all but shoved him out of the door. Considering she had no recollection of who she was, Cordelia was still remarkably … Cordelia like.

He arrived in the lobby and found Gunn there - combing through the weapons cabinet. Fred was on the phone, 'right,' she was saying, 'we'll be right over - bye.' She put the phone down and turned to Angel, 'hey - did Cordy get settled in OK? - Does she need anything?'

'She just said she needed space,' he looked between the two young people, 'you guys are off out - you got a case?'

'Yeah - Murray from down at the spa just called. That pregnant demon we thought we got rid of came back. Looks like it's gonna spawn any minute - we need to get down there and … terminate the situation.'

Gunn took his hubcap axe down from its place in the weapons cabinet and grinned, 'man - sometimes I love my job. Slice and dice before bed time - you know what I'm saying?'

'Right … where's Lorne?'

'Got himself a client already - took him up to his room. Connor's asleep upstairs.' With a nod of goodbye, Gunn left the hotel - alongside Fred - and Angel went into his office. He opened up his fridge - there were bags of plasma in there. He needed to get rid of these before Cordelia came back to the hotel and opened the office fridge looking for milk to put in her coffee. He took a whole load out and carried them to the front counter, placing them down, he then went back for the rest. Scooping them all up, he headed for the stairs - planning to stash them in the fridge in his suite of rooms. It should be easier to keep Cordy out of that fridge. Unless she went snooping … which wouldn't be completely unlike her...

As he walked down the corridor, laden with his armloads of blood packets, he heard an off key singing come from Lorne's room. 'Sugar ba duh duh duh duh de oh honey honey,' a male voice droned. 'OK,' the vampire heard Lorne said, 'that's enough - I'll make this simple. You have an addiction. If you don't stop snacking on you know whos then you're gonna end up on the wrong end of you know…'

Angel continued down the hallway and the anagogic demon's voice faded. He continued up the stairs to his own room - where he found Connor in his crib. 'Hey, little guy!' he greeted his son, his face lighting up in a smile. He crossed to the fridge and began to stash the bags of blood. 'This is gonna be our little secret, OK?' he said to Connor, 'Aunty Cordy doesn't have to know about this just yet - we don't wanna freak her out and scare her away.'

Cordelia - back at her place - had got changed into some black sweatpants and a comfy shirt. She studied herself in the mirror. 'Hi, I'm Cordy,' she said to her reflection - making her voice sound upbeat. 'I'm Cordelia Chase,' she repeated … but nothing clicked, nothing connected or seemed to fit.

Leaving the mirror behind, she went to scrutinise her photos instead - peering into all the frames she had on the walls and shelves. 'Well - at least intense sticky up hair guy isn't lying,' she said, as she looked at a framed photo of the two of them, 'I do seem to know him.' She looked at a picture of Fred and Gunn and then found one of Lorne. She frowned, 'boy, this guy really does love that green makeup,' she muttered. She found a picture of herself standing with a tall, dark haired guy wearing glasses - he looked stuffy, but kinda cute. She didn't recognise him, though, hadn't met him or heard him mentioned since her blunt force trauma. This picture had been shoved right to the back of the shelf - so it was practically out of sight. Obviously she didn't like this picture, for some reason - which seemed strange, because she looked cute in it.

She wandered into the bedroom and sat on the bed. There was another framed photo sitting on the bedside cabinet. It was her and intense guy - but it didn't fit the frame properly. It was too small. Her brow creased, as she thought about that, and then she turned the frame over and took the back off - sliding the picture from the frame. It was folded over, she found out. One third of the photo had been bent back so it was out of view. She unfolded it - and stared at the newly revealed person. It was a short man, again with dark hair - but with very green eyes. And lots of chest hair. Picture Cordelia was sitting very close to him. 'I wonder why I decided to hide you?' she said to the man in the picture. He just smiled up at her, revealing nothing.

'I sure do change my hair a lot,' she noted, thinking back over all the photos she had looked at. She went back into the living room and looked at her bookshelf. 'Little Women, Emma,' she read - running her finger along the titles, 'Wuthering Heights, The Scarlet Letter, the Other Boleyn Girl… and I sure do like romantic books about historical women,' she mused to herself.

At the end of the shelf was a thick, leather bound red book with 'Sunnydale class of '99' printed on the spine. 'OK - yearbook - the story of my life. Neato.' She took it down - some loose photos fell out, but she ignored them for now and instead flipped open the yearbook. It landed on a page that depicted a picture of herself in her cheerleader's uniform. 'OK - cheerleader - popular - no real surprise there,' she said to herself, and flipped back to the cover to see what messages her many friends had written. These might give her some more clues as to who she was - or spark a memory …

'Cordelia, home room was fun,' she read, 'too bad it … burned to the ground?' She looked alarmed and read the next message. 'Hey, how 'bout that giant snake… Dear Cordelia, thanks for the flaming arrows… flaming arrows?' She closed up the yearbook and replaced it on the shelf. She caught sight of a photo of herself, with long, dark hair, sitting on the shelf, and touched the tips of her short, blonde bob. 'Am I a spy?' she wondered. There was a rosary beside the photograph. She picked it up and stared at it. 'A religious spy?'

As she stepped away from the shelf, she caught sight of the loose photographs that had fallen from her yearbook. She stooped to pick them up. One was of a baby. 'Intense guy's baby?' she wondered. She looked at the next one. It was her and intense guy - and the baby was cradled in her arms, as she gazed lovingly down at it. 'Wait…'

She needed answers. Not the half clues and guesses that she was getting from looking at her stuff. She wanted the truth. What was going on? What was her life? She pulled out the phone book and looked up the address for the business they said she worked for. The Hyperion Hotel. It was in North Hollywood. She would have to get herself there and start asking some serious questions.

She grabbed her purse and left the apartment - thinking she would hail a cab. In the quiet that followed, Dennis picked up the fallen photographs and the phone book and put them away. Then he remembered … and took them back out and put them right where Cordy had left them.

The men had made their plan - and Wes and Doyle had spent the afternoon drinking scotch, as they finalised the details. But this was not unusual for them, and they were still clear headed and steady footed when it was time to leave.

Just before they headed out, Wes went back into his bedroom to fetch the weapons he wanted. He sat on the bed and strapped on his wrist halters. He noticed something lying on the floor. He bent down to pick it up - though he already knew what it was. It was the dollar bill he had signed for Lilah. She had left it behind. And he was surprised at how much that knowledge gnawed away at him.

Cordelia arrived at the Hyperion - she paid the cab driver and got out, staring up at the imposing art deco building. 'Wow,' she said to herself, 'classy! We actually own this place?' She headed for the front doors and stepped inside - and glanced around the lobby, taking in the high ceilings and the sweeping staircase. 'Fancy,' she said, 'but a little bit Twilight Zone … hello?' she called out. There was no reply - so she took some more, tentative steps inside. 'Intense guy? Fred? Gunn? Green dude? Hello?'

She had walked the length of the counter, now - finding nobody. Her hand trailed along the top of the front desk, her fingers touched something wet. She immediately stopped and raised her fingers to see what it was. The wetness was red - she sniffed - and it smelled metallic. She looked around, frightened, realising what it was. 'Hello?' she cried out again, 'is everyone OK? Is anyone injured?... what's going on?'

As she was looking around, unsure as to if she wanted to see anyone - unsure as to whether or not she wanted to know the source of the blood, she spotted the weapons cabinet. She swallowed heavily. 'This place just gets weirder and weirder,' she said - staring at the axes and the broadswords. 'We are spies!'

She found that the cabinet was unlocked and she opened it up - reaching for a sword, which was sharp and shiny and just seemed to speak to her. But, as her fingers closed around the hilt, she heard a noise behind her and whirled around. 'Hello?'

'You smell good.' A guy stepped out of the shadows. He was short and sweaty - and everything about him made Cordy's skin crawl. Without realising it, her hand clamped more firmly around the sword.

'What do you want?' she asked him warily. There were dark circles under his eyes- and, she wasn't sure, but he seemed to be drooling.

'A snack,' he said to her. He opened his mouth - wide - and a second mouth emerged from it. But this second one was full of sharp teeth and was dripping saliva like a waterfall. He made a growling, roaring sort of noise and sprang towards the startled woman.

Without making a conscious decision to do it - without thinking or even realising she was acting - Cordelia gripped the hilt of the sword in her hand and pulled it down from the cabinet. She swirled it round and slashed out at the man - the thing - that was attacking her. He fell back and she moved the line. He fell back again and she pushed forwards until he was pinned up against the front desk.

Realising he was trapped, the drooling guy tried to jump her again - and she pulled her sword back and plunged it deep into his gut. He screamed and she pulled the sword back out - her eyes wide and frightened - her breath coming in heavy, ragged gasps. Wounded, but not killed, he made another lunge for her. She screamed and swung the sword as hard as she could. His head was cleaved from his shoulders and it bounced along the floor. His decapitated body stood for a moment - swaying - and then it fell forwards. Cordelia screamed, again, and jumped backwards. She stared at the headless corpse for one terrified moment - and then she dropped the sword, with a clatter, and ran out of the door - into the courtyard garden.

Just as she got outside, however, she heard the sound of the gate opening - and Fred and Gunn returning. She ducked behind a pillar so that she wouldn't be seen.

'How much do I hate those little babies?' Gunn was saying. Cordelia wrinkled her face in confusion.

'Tell me about it,' Fred agreed, 'I couldn't squish squash fast enough.'

'I know we get paid to do it - but that's the kind of mayhem I'd do for free.'

'I'm gonna be washing their teeny brains out of my hair for a week.'

Behind her pillar, Cordelia was tensed and frozen - unable to believe what she was hearing, and terrified of being discovered. 'Spies that kill babies,' she breathed, 'oh my god!'

'Hang on. Turn around,' she heard Gunn say to Fred.

'What is it?'

'You don't even wanna know - just hold still.'

'I wonder how Cordelia's doing?' Fred said, as she stood still and waited for Gunn to remove … whatever was clinging to the back of her. She didn't want to think about it. 'I'm thinking it might be best if we just came clean. How can we keep that we do this sort of exterminating a secret for any length of time?'

'I guess that's for Angel to decide.' Gunn replied, 'he's the boss - there - got it, we're done.' They began to move towards the hotel again. 'But I can't see fang boy wantin' to tell her the whole truth any time soon.'

Cordelia peered at them from behind her pillar. They were through the courtyard and nearly on the veranda now. She could not remain hidden for long and, not wanting to be seen by these baby killing maniacs, she made the decision to turn and flee. Maybe she could get through the lobby and out of the front door before they caught her.

She took her first step - and ran straight into intense guy. She yelped. 'Hey,' he said - catching hold of her, 'what's wrong?'

'Cordelia?' Fred was walking towards her now, too - and Cordy could see that the woman and her boyfriend both carried sharp blades, probably from that cabinet she had found, and they were dripping with blood.

Panicked, she took a step back from Angel - went onto the balls of her feet, balled her fist and slung her right hook straight into the middle of his face. She heard a crunch, as her knuckles collided with his nose.

The men arrived back in Bel Air for the second night in a row. But this time, instead of walking through the front doors of the opulent brothel, they went to lurk around in the dark alley, behind it. They did not have to wait long - a few minutes after their arrival, a van pulled up and switched off the ignition. Two men got out of the driver's cab and went around to open the back doors.

Hidden in the shadows, Doyle, Wes and Groo watched as the men opened up the back and then bundled out a struggling figure. It was a woman - small - and with a sack over her head. Between the two of them, they shoved her over to the building. She stumbled and tripped as she went, unable to see where she was going - and fighting every inch of the way. A back door opened and - just for a moment - the three hidden men saw the outline of Madam Dorion, as she welcomed the small group into the brothel. Then the door was shut, and the alley was thrown into darkness once more.

The three of them looked at each other. 'Right,' Wesley said, 'It's time - I'll go in. Doyle - wait for my signal. Groosalug - you stay out here and wait for those men to return.'

'I shall not fail you,' the undefeated warrior said, brandishing his sword, 'they shall pay.'

...

Dressed in a suit, his hair combed neatly and having taken the time to shave, Wesley went round the the front of the building and walked inside. Just as last night, there were groups of demon girls - waiting for clients - in the luxurious foyer. The women made eyes at him, called to him - and he pretended to blush. He stood there, looking awkward - like he wasn't sure what to do, until Madam Dorion, herself, came down the stairs and greeted him.

'Mr. Wyndham - Pryce - back so soon?'

'Yes - I uh…' he cleared his throat, uncomfortably, 'yes.'

'Not for more business I hope?'

'No - that case is resolved I was … I was… uh … hoping that .. maybe … well … in point of fact…'

Madam Dorion smiled, broadly, 'I see - it is pleasure that brings you here tonight.' She looked around. 'Mr. Doyle decided not to join you?'

Wesley blushed again, 'he - uh … I mean… I didn't mention...'

'Well - maybe he'll find his own way here. So - what exactly is it you're looking for, tonight, Mr. Wyndham - Pryce?'

Wesley blushed even deeper and began to make incoherent stuttering noises. The Madam's smile grew even broader, 'we'll start you out gently,' she suggested, 'Calina!' she called over a demon with smooth, green skin and bright red hair. 'I'd like you to take Mr. Wyndham - Pryce up to the purple boudoir. Show him a good time.'

Calina looked Wesley up and down, 'he's pretty,' she said. Wesley flamed even deeper and began to stutter all over again. The demon woman took his hand and began to lead him up the stairs; the watcher fell over his feet, as he followed her. Madam Dorion watched him go - almost pityingly. 'Calina,' she called after the demon woman, 'go easy on him.'

...

Wesley was taken up to the second storey landing. Calina unlocked a door and ushered him inside. 'It's right in here,' she said - her voice was a husky whisper. Inside, there was a large round bed with satin sheets laid across it. There were candles lit - and their flickering flames gave out the heavy heady scent of jasmine. The carpets were thick, there was a mirror on the ceiling and a display of furry and feathery toys on the dresser. Not surprisingly, given the name of the room, all the soft furnishings in there were purple. Even the light had a magenta glow to it.

Calina shut the door and led Wesley to the bed. She sat him down and sat beside him, then she caressed his face with her hand. 'Now - what would you like me to do to you?'

He pulled a dagger out and held it to her throat. She smiled, 'we don't normally go in for that straight away.' He pushed it closer to her skin. 'I'm afraid there's been a change of plan,' he told her - his voice no longer stuttering and unsure. 'All I want from you is answers - tell me what I want to know and I shan't harm you.'

Her eyes had widened - as she began to realise that this wasn't role play. She tried to move further away from the watcher. But Wesley, his movements sure and expert, followed along - keeping the pressure of the knife on her at all times. 'Do we have an agreement?' he asked her. She nodded.

'Good - Madam Dorion does not come across all the workers in her brothel legally, does she?' he asked. At first, Calina didn't answer, so he pressed harder with the knife and asked again. She shook her head. 'She traffics them? From across the world?' he checked. This time Calina nodded her head. 'Were you one such girl?' There was a pause - and then she nodded again. 'I'm sorry,' Wesley told her, 'I really am. Now. One girl was brought here tonight - do you know anything about that?'

She shook her head, 'girls arrive all the time. We're discouraged from talking to each other about how we got here. We're not allowed to spend time together when we're not working. Dorion does not want a workers' revolt on her hands. She tries to make us believe that everyone else is here, willingly. That there is no one to help us.'

'Do you wish to escape?'

'How?'

'Just tell me where they would take this new girl...'

...

Down in the alley, Doyle waited - his hands shoved in his pockets. 'Shouldn't be long now,' he said to the Groosalug, 'will you be OK takin' care of those guys by yourself?'

'Surely they will offer no challenge to the blade of the Groosalug.'

'That's good - 'cause look,' he pointed upward to a second storey window, where the beam of a flashlight was winking on and off. 'That's my signal. Good luck, man.'

'And you - Noble Majesty.'

Doyle nodded and then crossed the alleyway. He put his foot on the first rung of the fire escape ladder and then began to scale the building. When he reached the second floor, it was to find the window open and Wesley waiting for him. He scrambled inside and the watcher helped him right himself. 'This is Calina,' Wesley said without preamble, indicating the demon woman, 'she was trafficked here, as well - she says new girls are taken up to the very top floor of the building. She'll be chained up.'

'I've got my axe.'

'It's the end room,' Calina told him, 'and it's kept very dark. We're kept there, in the dark, not given any food or water until we agree to work for Dorion.'

'That all ends tonight,' Wesley said, 'you think you can find her?' Doyle nodded. 'Then go - quickly.' The half demon left the room. Wesley took out his hip flask. 'What are you going to do?' Calina asked him. Instead of taking a drink, he threw the contents of the flask all over the curtains and the bedspread and the carpet. 'Bourbon,' he told her. He led her back over to the door and then he lit a match...

Angel winced, his nose hurt and he brought his hand up to it, reflexively. But he didn't let Cordelia run past him. 'Ow!' he said. 'Cordy - what's wrong?'

'What's wrong?' she repeated in disbelief, 'a guy with two mouths tried to kill me - I cut his head off, they -' she waved at Fred and Gunn 'are out killing babies and you keep lethal weapons in the lobby of your creepy hotel. What the hell is going on, Angie?'

'Angel.'

'Whatever … you're spies - aren't you?

'Spies?'

'Probably Russian.'

'I look Russian to you?' Gunn asked, confused.

'Black Russian.'

'That's a cocktail,' Angel told her.

'Said the chief spy!' she retorted. 'I can fight with weapons. I can punch really hard. I change my hair, like, all the time… I'm a spy and you're enemy spies and you've brainwashed me into thinking we're friends so I'll spill the beans on some nano-techno-thingy that you want.'

'Nobody here is a spy, Cordelia,' Angel sought to reassure her. He turned to his other friends, 'maybe give us some space?' he asked. Fred and Gunn nodded - and left them to it.

'We're not spies?' Cordelia said - still distrustful, once they we're alone, 'and we're really friends?'

'We really are.'

'Then what is going on?'

He sighed - and sat down on the bench by the fountain. He patted it and she came to sit beside him. 'I maybe haven't been a hundred percent honest with you,' he admitted,'I wanted to protect you because … the truth is, Cordelia, she - you - knows some pretty scary and amazing things. About the world. And - I didn't want to have to tell you about these things until you were ready to know it - or believe it. Some of it is pretty unbelievable.'

She wrinkled her forehead as she thought about his words. 'What do I know, that you don't want me to know?' she asked.

'You know about … evil,' he told her, heavily. 'You know there are more things in this world than most people recognise - you know about what preys on people in the dark. And you help fight it. That's why you know how to use a weapon.'

'I'm an evil fighter?' she sounded disbelieving, 'and so are you?' Angel nodded. She laughed out loud - but it was a mirthless laugh, 'and what? Fred and Gunn were just out massacring evil babies?'

'Well - yeah.'

'This is nuts. I think I preferred it when we were spies.'

'You love your work, Cordelia - it's important to you. You love helping people. You're a champion… though your filing system leaves a little something to be desired.'

'Am I …' she hesitated.

'What?'

'Am I a mother?' she asked him. She took out the photo of her and Angel and Connor, 'I found this. Is your baby my baby? Are we together? Are we a family?'

He sighed. 'We're a family,' he told her, 'but you're not Connor's mother. His mother is dead.'

'Oh,' she leaned in closer to him, 'so - we're not … together?'

'That's complicated,' he whispered - also leaning in, as if they were about to kiss. She pulled back. 'Is that because I'm a nun?'

'what?'

'Is it complicated because I'm a nun? We love each other - but we can't be together because I've taken holy orders?'

'Why would you think that?' He sounded genuinely confused.

'I also found a whole load of these at my apartment,' she explained. She handed him the rosaries, and he took them without looking what they were. But, the moment the crosses touched his flesh, his skin began to steam - and his face vamped out with the sudden pain. Cordelia stared at the bumps and the fangs and the yellow eyes. She screamed - and then jumped to her feet and pelted through the courtyard, running out of the gate and slamming it behind her.

'Cordelia!' Angel raced after her - but by the time he got the gate open, the street was empty. Cordy had vanished.