Reunion

Part One

The door to Doyle's cell was pulled open, and the early morning light flooded in. 'C'mon, Paddy, up you get,' the police officer said to him. He sat up, rubbing his face and blinked in the light. 'Transport's been arranged,' the officer was saying. 'Time to go.'

The half demon got to his feet, slowly, and shuffled his way towards the door where he was immediately handcuffed. He was led through the precinct, the whole thing seemed unreal, as if everything was slowed down and muffled. He felt like he was moving underwater.

He was taken down the backstairs and outside to where a transport vehicle was waiting. As he stumbled his way towards it, he saw Kate walking in his direction, headed for the precinct. Her nose was buried in a file, as she walked. 'Kate,' he croaked out her name, and she looked up, frowning. Her frown only deepened when she saw the Irishman, handcuffed, and being forced into the back of a prison wagon. 'Doyle?' She approached the officer that accompanied him, 'what's happening, why is this man being arrested?'

'Bank robbery and grand theft auto,' the policeman said.

'There must be some mistake!' Kate protested. 'I know this man -' she turned to face Doyle. 'Don't worry, Doyle - I'll look into this, I'll fix it. Just go along with everything they say and don't resist.' He was stuffed into the van, and locked into place. She hurried into the precinct to start making enquiries.

There were some more men, already locked into place; and once Doyle was secured, the back doors were closed and the transport vehicle moved off. Through the small square windows, high above his head, he could see the blue of the sky and the sun shining down. It was going to be yet another beautiful day. And all over the city, people - Cordelia- would be getting up and starting on with their mornings, as if everything was normal, as if nothing had changed.

The journey was not a long one, and within half an hour, the van had pulled up outside the large, square, ominous looking building. The men were unchained from the van and then led outwards. It was with a sense of great trepidation that Doyle entered into the environs of the Men's County Jail, and left the sunshine behind...

That same sunshine was streaming through the windows into the lobby of the Hyperion Hotel. Cordelia and Wesley were still waiting for Angel to come home, the Host had told them that the vampire would need them when he returned; but so far he had not come home and now his employees were getting worried.

'This is bad,' Cordelia told her friend, drumming the tips of her steepled fingers together, as she worried. Her elbows rested on the desk and a cup of cold coffee sat just beside her, but she was too tense to stop her tapping and drink it. 'He should be home by now, something must have happened. He can't be out in the daylight like this.'

'Perhaps he went back to Darla's motel room?' Wesley suggested. He was trying to sound calm and reasonable, to try and soothe Cordelia's panic, but secretly he had to admit he was worried too. 'He might be inside.'

'All alone? All day? With Darla? That's even worse!'

'Well ...maybe they -'

The Englishman was cut off mid sentence by the front door being kicked open. Gunn entered, supporting a barely standing Angel.

'Oh my God, Angel!' Cordelia hurried out from behind the desk. 'What happened?'

'I don't know,' Gunn told her, 'he's been kinda in and out. I only got half a story, the half that don't make sense.'

The three associates gently walked their boss over to the sofa. Angel was shambolic and incoherent. He was all roughed up, cut and bruised and bleeding. He was limping and he was muttering - words that didn't make sense to his three friends. 'No time,' he gasped, as he was sat down on the round sofa, and Cordelia began to scrutinise his various wounds, 'it's no - no time.'

'Where did you find him?' Cordelia asked, looking at Gunn.

'Coming out of Darla's motel. I managed to get him into the truck before he burst into flames.'

'I should have heard them,' the vampire continued to mumble to himself. 'I was just so tired - so tired.'

'The place was a wreck,' Gunn informed the other two. 'Something went down there, and there was no sign of Darla.'

'I knew it - she did this to him,' Cordelia was indignant. 'I knew she couldn't be trusted.'

'She's dead.' Angel suddenly cut into the conversation. His three friends stopped their conversation and all stared at the wounded vampire in surprise. 'I should have stopped them,' he continued, 'they made her drink. She didn't want to, but they made her.'

'Someone made Darla drink?' Wesley asked sharply, his mind whirling with the possibilities of what might happen now, after this latest development, trying to make sense of where they would go from here.

'It was her,' Angel said, his voice full of significance. But Cordelia was lost, 'OK way too many pronouns. Who's 'her'?' Angel pushed himself up off the couch before he answered, just one word: 'Drusilla.'

'Drusilla's here?'

'Good lord!' Wesley exclaimed. Only Gunn was unaffected by this news, indeed he seemed rather nonplussed. 'Who's Drusilla?' he wanted to know, as the three of them tagged along behind Angel, who was limping his way into his office. Angel began to root through his desk, pulling things out and discarding them, dropping them on the floor, as he searched for something. Gunn looked at across at the other two. 'Am I right in thinking that this Drusilla has got a set of teeth on her?'

'Yes', Wesley told him, 'she's a vampire.'

'I think I'm starting to get the picture.'

Angel slammed his desk drawer shut in frustration, making Cordelia wince. He moved over to the cabinet and yanked that open, beginning his desperate search once more. 'I need to find her.'

'Drusilla?' Cordelia was confused.

'She probably aint in there,' Gunn told his boss, eyeing the cabinet.

'I can save her,' Angel said, still searching. Cordelia shook her head. 'He's delirious,' she whispered.

'Angel? Save whom?' Wesley wanted to know.

'Darla.'

Wesley sighed, a little sadly, and went to crouch beside his friend. Angel continued to frantically search through the cupboard. The watcher made his voice gentle, but intense, trying to convey the truth of the situation so that Angel would understand it, but as kindly as possible. 'Angel, if what you've been saying is true, then there is no saving Darla. It's too late.'

'It's not.'

Wesley put his hand on Angel's shoulder and squeezed it comfortingly, 'it is! She's dead already and come nightfall she'll rise again.'

'She won't,' Angel straightened up, he spun the stake, which he had finally found, in his hand and then looked into all of his friends' faces. 'I can save her from that.'

Kate sighed deeply, as she looked through the file she had managed to get a hold of. Doyle seemed to be in deep trouble - the evidence was stacked against him, it seemed he really had done all the things he'd been arrested for. She didn't know what she could do for him, but she wanted to help. These crimes had been years ago, before he had met Angel - and Doyle was an integral part of the good fight. No one knew that better than Kate - he had saved her father's life! It was his visions that directed Angel to all the helpless he needed to save. Without the half demon, Angel would be fighting blind, which would mean innocent people would die. But Doyle was half human too. And he'd broken human laws. And it seemed like the human part of him was going to be made to pay. She couldn't argue with the evidence in front of her - or make it go away. But she knew someone who could. She reached out for the phone and dialled her boyfriend.

Doyle was going through the slow process of being booked into jail. It was taking hours. They took his name, date and place of birth, and social security number. This led to a hold up as they checked his immigration status, verifying his right to residency. Doyle held his breath over that one. He had come to the States to work - teaching in an international school which had supplied him with a work visa. Then he had met Harri, got married, and applied for a green card. Since then, he had left his job and got a divorce. Fortunately, he still had another 4 years left on his green card and so was still living in the country legally; though he began to realise that, if this went to trial and he ended up in prison, deportation was the only certainty waiting for him at the end of his sentence. A happy ending with Cordelia was looking less and less likely by the minute.

After all his details had been entered into the computer, he had yet more fingerprints and more mug shots taken. It was then that he realised this had been the easy bit; fear of winding up on a plane straight back to Ireland included. He was led through into another room, which was partitioned into separate cubicles, although they were open to the front. This was the search room, where they would check prisoners for any contraband before they entered the main part of the jail. He was shoved inside one of the cubicles and told to take his clothes off.

Wesley sat at the laptop, working away. He frowned, as he did so. He didn't know where Doyle was or what he was up to, but he was beginning to feel irritated with him. The Irishman was by far the best of them when it came to finding things on the computer, and had the most skill at accessing files and secure sites. They needed him right now - and he was nowhere to be found. Wesley had been relieved to know his friend was safe, when the Host had told them that, of course he had; but he still thought that Doyle had better have a good explanation for why he had been absent in the middle of one of the greatest crises the company had ever faced.

Gunn was pacing up and down the lobby. 'OK, I'm still trying to get this family tree straight. Darla sired Angel? And Angel sired this Drusilla? But that was before he got his soul back, right?'

'Certainly,' Wesley didn't look up from the computer screen.

'Now these lawyers go and bring Darla back as a human. And now this Drusilla vamp bites Darla, making her a vampire again?'

Wesley finally looked up and leaned backwards in his chair. He nodded his head, slowly. 'That's the cosmological upshot yes. Darla's human self has died and sometime before dawn, unless Angel can stop it, she will rise again, a soulless demon.'

'So that means…'

Wesley returned back to his typing, 'the clock is ticking.'

'No - no,' Gunn said, shaking his head. 'What I'm saying is: that the granddaughter remade the grandmother.'

'Oh - yes.'

Gunn shuddered. 'Man, that weirds me out even more than the bloodsucking thing.'

Angel strode into the office and went to the small fridge. 'Have you got anything?' he asked as he opened it, taking out a container of pig's blood. Wesley nodded. 'Sunset is at 5:47 pm - which was…' he checked his watch, 'six minutes ago. Sunrise is at 6:15 am.'

'And she could rise anytime between then,' Angel surmised. Wesley nodded once more, and the vampire turned to his secretary, who was working at her own desk. 'Cordelia, anything?'

Cordy put the phone down and turned to her boss. 'Lilah Morgan's secretary says she is in the office, but she has been in a meeting all day.'

'Right.' Angel put the container of blood, unfinished, down on the counter top and picked up his coat. Gunn stared down at the blood in horrified fascination. Wesley watched his boss preparing to leave. 'Angel, you know you can't get into those offices undetected,' he reminded the vampire.

'And I'm not going to. That's what they want me to do. But I was at the only meeting Lilah has had all day.'

'You don't think she's at the office?' Wesley asked. 'So where are you going?'

'To her home.'

'I'll go with you,' Gunn offered. Wesley got to his feet. 'Yes, we all will.' But Angel shook his head. 'Not this time, I'm going alone.'

'But you can't get in uninvited!' Cordelia protested. 'What are you planning to do? Stand outside her door and make remarks? You need us'

Angel sighed in defeat, 'Fine, come with me.' He suddenly glanced around the lobby, looking at them all, a confused expression on his face. 'Where's Doyle?'

Dressed once more, in a blue jumpsuit that separated him out from the orange wearing already convicted inhabitants of the jail, Doyle was taken through into the main containment facility. He shuffled along in a line, following the person in front of him, carrying his bundle of blankets, plastic plate and cup, a toothbrush and a toilet roll. The inmates were locked in their cells, so the hallway was empty but for the new arrivals, but Doyle could hear the prisoners; locked behind their doors, banging on the walls, whooping and hollering and trying to intimidate the newcomers. It was working. They were led up a flight of stairs and onto a gangway, every few cells the line would stop and one or two prisoners would be locked inside. Then the rest would continue onward until they reached their own.

It was just as Doyle had reached the front of the line and had stopped outside of a cell, which was being unlocked, that he felt the twinge in his head that always preceded a vision. BAM. The vision pain slammed into his cranium and his whole body went stiff, before he dropped to the floor - twitching. His little bundle of belongings crashed down and spilled out.

'Oh man,' the guard said, looking down at him, and then up at the other guard. 'Does this one have epilepsy or something? Was it on his file?'

'Maybe he's faking?' the other guard suggested.

Even in amidst the blinding agony of the vision, Doyle still felt the sharp pain of a swift boot to his gut. 'You faking?' the guard barked at him. Another kick. Doyle continued to twitch, as the images streamed into his mind. 'I guess we better take him to the hospital wing.'

Angel kicked open the door to Lilah's flat. A middle aged woman, running a vacuum cleaner over the floor looked up at him in annoyance and switched off her hoover. 'What did you do that for?' the cleaner asked.

'Where's Lilah?' Angel demanded.

'Miss Morgan has been out all day, she doesn't tell me where she's going.'

Angel looked at his associates. 'Go in,' he told them, 'check it's empty.'

'Hey!' the cleaner protested, as Wesley, Gunn and Cordelia all streamed through the door and then spread out to search the apartment. 'I'll call the police.'

'Call them,' Angel told her. 'This is an emergency.'

'Oh - is this about her cousin?'

'Cousin?' Angel was nonplussed.

'Yes,' the cleaner said to him, 'the sweet little English girl, a bit odd though.' The three team members of Angel investigations stopped their search, and came back into the main living space of the apartment, to listen to what the woman had to say. The cleaner shook her head. 'I knew that pregnancy was in trouble the moment I saw her.'

'Pregnancy?' Cordelia asked, confused.

'She said she was going to have a baby?' Angel said. The cleaner nodded. 'A daughter, She was so excited about it but ...I knew that it couldn't be right. That thin - thin as a rake - and that far along. I mean it can't be healthy for the baby.' She sighed. 'It seems such a shame, she was so excited about getting the nursery ready.'

The three living associates all exchanged mystified glances, but Angel nodded to himself. 'Of course,' he whispered, 'Dru would want the ritual.'

'Did she say where she was staying?' Wesley asked the cleaner, 'if she wasn't staying here with Miss Morgan?'

'Um - somewhere on the Westside I think, she said she wanted her daughter to be born near the stars.' She chuckled, ruefully. 'Of course - she's foreign - she doesn't understand that you can live your whole life in L.A and never see the stars.'

Drusilla pushed open the skylight and looked out into the blackness. 'I can hear them singing to me.'

'So this place works for you then?' asked Lilah, covering her irritation. This one was even worse than the first woman had been - she was completely sack of hammers. The lawyer couldn't wait until her days of babysitting Angel's women were through. Just go evil already!

Dru drifted over to the table where Darla, clad in a white dress, was laid out. She caressed the dead woman's cheek. 'Grandmother is very pleased with this place - I can tell.'

'Can she hear you?'

Drusilla stared straight into Lilah's eyes. 'She's dead.' she managed to make it sound like it was Lilah that was the crazy one.

'Oh - of course.'

'Shh,' the vampire raised her fingers to her lips and smiled. 'Just for now,' she whispered.

'Right.' Lilah checked the watch that she wore on her right wrist. 'Is there anything else you need? I'd love to stay for the birth - but I have a prior engagement I need to prepare for.'

'I've got preparations to make myself.'

'I'll leave you too it then.' As the lawyer left the room, she heard the crazed vampire begin to sing to Darla. 'Run and catch,' she crooned, 'run and catch, the lamb is caught in the blackberry patch.'

The team had gone back to the hotel and Cordelia was researching cemeteries. Angel was adamant that Drusilla would want to bury Darla, observe all the rituals and niceties of becoming a vampire. As she scrolled through the information, Cordelia felt her first twinge of worry, in a long time, for Doyle. She trusted the Host when he said that her boyfriend was safe, but he had been missing for a long time now. She couldn't understand why he wouldn't have contacted her by now, unless he wasn't able to. And they really needed him right now - she really needed him.

'OK here's a list of local cemeteries, funeral homes and mausoleums', she said to Angel putting it down on his desk.

'Forget mausoleums, she wants a view of the night sky.'

'So that's just the outside cemeteries then?' Cordelia said. 'Well that narrows it down.' Gunn looked at the list and raised his eyebrows. 'You telling me we need to visit all these places and dig up every fresh grave?'

'Drusilla would want to put her in the ground - she's a classicist.' Angel informed them. Cordelia shook her head. 'She's a loony,' she corrected.

'Angel? Are you sure about this? If it's just a burial she's after then she doesn't need a cemetery, I'm afraid, just dirt.' They all looked defeated at Wesley words. Cordelia snorted. 'Still not narrowing. The whole world? Pretty much dirt.'

'You know maybe I'm going about this wrong,' Angel mused. 'Dru doesn't see this as death. It's a birth - she talked about getting the nursery ready.' But Wesley was unconvinced. 'I think maybe you're looking for logic in the rantings of someone who doesn't think logically', he cautioned. But Angel felt that he was on the right path now. 'A nursery near the stars?' he thought out loud. 'Dru loves the stars. She used to spend hours in our garden, back in Sunnydale, talking to them.'

'Does it have to be a baby nursery?' Gunn asked. 'You said she liked the garden. What about a plant nursery? You got the soil, the view - and it's more of a birthplace than a death place. Find one high up - and it might be what we're looking for.'

Cordelia scurried back to the computer. 'I'll look for one with a link to Wolfram and Hart,' she called over her shoulders. But as she began to type, she sighed again. 'Doyle, where are you?' she whispered to herself.

He had been taken to the hospital wing and checked over by the doctor. 'I'm fine,' he kept saying. 'I just have these - seizures - sometimes...it's nothin' to worry about, but I need to make a phone call.' But they didn't listen to him. Having been given a physical once over, and declared healthy, the doctor then insisted on taking blood and urine samples to check for drugs. His word that he hadn't taken anything was no longer enough - he was a criminal now, not to be trusted or listened to.

'I really need to make a phone call,' he kept saying. Still neither the guard nor the doctor answered, or even looked at him straight.

'There doesn't seem any reason to keep him here, take him back to his cell,' the doctor said to the guard, as if Doyle wasn't even in the room or couldn't understand.

It was a full hour after his vision that he was discharged from the hospital wing and taken back to the main part of the prison. And still no one was listening to his request to make a phone call.

Angel entered the plant nursery via the rooftops. He dropped down through the skylight, he appeared to be alone. On the table was a seedbed filled with dirt. He crossed over to it, and pushed some of the dirt away, revealing a shroud covered face. He pulled the thin shroud away and looked into the peaceful face of Darla. He took a moment, and then pushed more dirt away, revealing her chest. Then he raised his stake. Just as his arm plunged downwards, Drusilla hit him over the back of his head with a shovel, sending him flying across the seedbed.

Angel righted himself and Drusilla hit him again. 'That's not a fitting gift for grandmother,' she told him. 'I saw you coming… the moon whispered it to me, told me to come into the twentieth century.'

'It's the twenty first century, Dru.'

'Mmm, I'm still lagging.' she hit him again, throwing him against the wall.

Unnoticed by them both; Darla woke up with a gasp. She stared around at the room, watching the two vampires fighting, mere feet away from her. Drusilla and Angel traded blows, until Angel was able to grab the shovel away from her. He snapped the handle off and turned back to the seedbed, makeshift stake in hand, ready to plunge it into Darla's heart. But he was pulled up short. The seedbed was empty, and all that was left of Darla was the indentation where her body had lain. He stood there, feeling grief and defeat crash into him. He glanced around the room, and was suddenly seized by the throat and lifted into the air. Darla stood beneath him, holding him up with her newfound vampire strength. Drusilla looked on in delight: 'now everybody's home.'