The Thin Dead Line

Part One

Angel's convertible pulled up outside the hotel. He got out and entered the lobby. He'd been hunting - but his search had borne no fruit. He was ready to be done with this. He wanted it over. He wanted Darla dead - and bloody vengeance wreaked on Wolfram and Hart and then - and then … he wasn't sure. Maybe he could go back to being a champion of the people - a warrior for the higher powers...But the longer this went on, the less sure he was that there was a way back. Thomas Wolfe had said you can't go home again and maybe that was true. Whatever was waiting for Angel, after he killed Darla - maybe it wasn't what he had left behind - maybe it was something else entirely. Another new beginning.

But before he got there - he needed to find and kill Darla… and he was having no luck. She had vanished. Injured - scorched - burned half to death, she had simply melted into oblivion - along with Drusilla. And if he couldn't find her … then he could never move on.

He looked at the front desk. It was piled high with books and papers- left over from before Darla was turned ...from before he'd pushed his friends out into the cold. In almost three months he hadn't bothered to clear them away - they just sat there - Cordelia's files, Wesley's papers, Wesley's books - even a newspaper Doyle had left lying around at the beginning of December. It hurt him to see these sundry objects there. It hurt his focus- dented his determination...and it hurt him deeper than that. Made him feel alone - as he hadn't felt for a long time, now.

He didn't have time for loneliness. And he didn't have time to worry about his friends… he had a mission. And that was all he cared about. All he could afford to care about. He reached out and, with one fluid movement of his arm, pushed all the books and papers off the counter. They crashed to the floor in an untidy heap, and he left them there - returning to his apartment to brood about Darla.


Doyle was sat in the corner of their new office, on one of the crappy chairs, pretending to read a book. In reality, he was keeping very still - and his mind blank - in order to fight the panic and desperation that was always just under the surface - threatening to break out and overwhelm him. His eyes began to blur as he stared intently at the image he was not really looking at. He had stared at the same picture for over ten minutes now, and - if asked - he couldn't have even have said how many heads the demon depicted had got.

He blinked, and became aware of someone stood directly in front of him. He looked up. Cordelia. She was holding a cup of coffee, which she handed to him once she had his attention. 'Thanks, Princess,' he mumbled, taking the mug from her. Once her hands were free, she sat down - balancing on the arm of his chair. She had to lean against him, slightly, to stay perched there. He glanced upwards at her, she was also pretending to study his book. 'Did you want something else?' he asked.

She shifted a bit - but very carefully, to prevent falling off. 'I was just..wondering - have you ...have you -spoken - to your lawyer ...recently?'

He sighed, and shook his head. He didn't want to talk about this - didn't want to think about this ...although in truth it was all he did think about. But he owed her answers. He was putting her through enough as it was - without giving her the silent and angry treatment, as well… perhaps he had learned something from the disastrous end of his marriage, after all. 'Nope… I - uh - I haven't heard anythin' about ... yet. Lindsey said I wasn't top priority so …'

Her face lit up in a brilliant smile. 'So there's at least another week - until ...you know …?'

He twisted his mouth into a wry smile … 'yeah, princess, there's still at least another week.'

She moved herself around, so she was sidewards on - facing him, and wrapped her arm around him - her hand caressing the back of his neck. 'well...I was wondering...as work is being so slow at the moment, if you might like to do ...something - rather than sit around here all day. We could go to the beach - or Disneyland - or Vegas!'

'I don't think I'm supposed to leave the state, darlin.'

'Oh -OK - not Vegas… but there's still loads we could do. I just think there could be better uses of your time than sitting round here pretending to read Wesley's stupid old books.'

'So I wasn't foolin' y' with my reading act?'

She shook her head, her smile was warm and sympathetic. 'We could go anywhere you like,' she murmured, 'make the most of our last few days together...for now - not forever! Last few days together for now. Make some memories.'

'You're still determined to be waiting for me when I get out?' he asked. She nodded, 'you don't get rid of me that easy, buddy!'

'Ah -no! Y' saw through my cunning plan! Get myself sent to jail for three years just to avoid having to date you!'

They both laughed. It felt good to laugh like that - together - the way they had used to. Maybe Cordelia was right, maybe he should make the most of the last of his freedom. He nodded slowly, 'OK, Princess, you're on. If nothin' comes up - we'll do something ni…'

The door opened, cutting him off mid sentence, and a woman and a young girl walked in. Doyle and Cordelia exchanged a rueful glance, and then Cordelia got down from the arm of the chair and approached the new arrival. 'Can we help you?'

'I'm looking for Wesley Wyndham Price?' The woman said, glancing around the small office.

'I'm Wesley,' the British man said, appearing at her side.

'I'm Francine Sharp,' she indicated the girl, 'my daughter, Stephanie...I'm a friend of Virginia's from the club.'

'Oh right,' Wesley nodded, 'the country club.'

Cordelia inhaled, and - disappointed as she was that she might not be getting her day at Disneyland with Doyle - she couldn't help but smile when she worked out what Mrs. Sharp's words signified. 'One of Virginia's rich friends?' All the sets of eyes in the office turned to look at her. Only Doyle and Gunn looked amused. 'Well you certainly came to the right place - ha ha!' she tried to cover for her moment of naked greed.

'Virginia said you specialise in -uh - strange phenomenon?' Mrs. Sharp told them, choosing to ignore Cordelia's outburst. The team agreed that that was their area of expertise and ushered the woman and her daughter further into the office. Over in his corner, Doyle gave a start as he realised what the Sharp's problem was. The problem was the back of Stephanie's head - it was blinking at him. The others had yet to notice. 'Uh guys-' he began to say.

'Trust me we specialise in strange', Cordelia was saying, 'there is nothing we haven't see-' she trailed off as she, too, noticed the trouble. She exchanged an astonished glance with her Irish coworker, before grabbing the attention of the other two. 'There's an eye in the back of her head!' she hissed - surreptitiously pointing to Stephanie. Wesley and Gunn came round to take a look for themselves. The British man raised his index finger and moved it back and forth in front of Stephanie's third eye. The eye tracked it.

Wesley crouched down and addressed the girl. 'Did you see what did this to you?' Stephanie glanced at her mother, and it was Mrs. Sharp that answered. 'It was dark - she doesn't remember much - she was on her way home from swimming, and something grabbed her and bit her. She's been in a state of shock ever since. I'll pay you whatever it takes - can you make it go away?'

'Certainly,' Wesley said, 'but it may take some time.' Mrs. Sharp looked distressed. Doyle got out of his seat and went over to the group. He leaned on the front of the desk, so he was facing the girl, and smiled at her - it was his teacher's smile. 'Hey Stephanie,' he said, 'You wanna see a card trick?' Wesley and Mrs. Sharp stopped their hushed conversation to turn and watch what the half demon was up to.

Stephanie nodded and Doyle got his playing cards out of his pocket, he spread the deck so she could see them and looked away whilst she picked a card, then he shuffled them. He picked one card at random, 'was it this one?' She shook her head. 'Oh - well - was it this one?' he tried another - she shook her head again, smiling a little bit now. 'Man!' Doyle exclaimed - 'well, I'm all outta ideas...unless…' he reached out and pulled a card from behind her ear, 'it was this one?'

'Man! That was cool! How'd you do that?' Gunn wanted to know.

'Ah - a magician never betrays his secrets!' he winked at Stephanie and the young girl giggled. Even Mrs. Sharp smiled, relieved to see a bit of life come back into her daughter.

'So, y' like swimming, do you, Stephanie?' Doyle asked, shuffling his cards again and holding them out for her to choose another. The girl nodded, as she selected a card. 'And y' normally walk home all by y'self?' she nodded again. Doyle whistled, 'That's brave! It can get scary after dark - you mustn't be scared o' much, am I right?' The girl nodded again, and Doyle shuffled the deck once more. This time he handed the deck to Cordelia, 'cut these for me, would ya, princess?' Cordy took them off him, cut them and handed them back.

'So I'm thinkin',' Doyle said to Stephanie, as he took back the cards, 'that a young woman like yourself, used to being out alone in the dark - probably got a good look at the thing that grabbed y' - am I right?' The girl hesitated and then nodded. Doyle smiled at her even more widely, 'excellent! I knew you wouldn't let us down… was it this one?' He showed her a card, she nodded once more. 'Well - I gotta thank Cordy this time - she's the one that split the deck for me. So, Stephanie - alongside being an excellent magician's assistant, my friend, Cordelia, here, is quite the talented artist. You think you could describe that thing for us - and she can draw it? That way my friend, Wesley,' he nodded towards Wesley, 'will be able to find it in his books quicker than I can pull a jack outta this deck.' He pulled a jack out, demonstrating just how quickly he could do that. 'So you think you could do that for us then, darlin'?'

'Ye - yes,' Stephanie stammered, Doyle beamed. 'Good girl! Cordy, y' got some paper?'

Cordelia grabbed a sketch pad and a pencil, and pulled a chair over so she was sat next to Stephanie. Between the two of them, her and Doyle gently spoke to the traumatised girl, helping her remember all the details of the demon that she could - and Cordelia sketched what she heard.

'Thank you for doing this,' Mrs. Sharp said to Wesley and Gunn, as they watched the little group work on identifying the demon. 'I just can't understand who would do a thing like this.'

'You'd be surprised how many nasty things are out on the streets these days,' Wesley told her.


Two teenagers ran through the streets, glancing back over their shoulders from time to time. The thing that chased them was gaining on them. They arrived at the teen shelter and hammered on the door. Anne opened it, a slight frown on her face. 'You know the rules, guys - it's after ten - I can't let you in.'

'You can't leave us out here!' the boy told her, he glanced around again, 'there's something ...we gotta come in!'

'We're packed to ceiling as it is,' Anne protested.

'We'll sleep on the floor,' the teenage girl promised, 'please don't make us go back out there.'

Anne sighed, and stepped aside, allowing the two teens to hurry inside. She looked out of the door, peering up and down the street - but it seemed deserted. She shut and locked the door and returned to her office.

...

A human figure moved out of the shadows, watching the centre. The silver badge on its chest reflected the light from the lamp post, making it gleam in the darkness.


Merl was in his lair, hastily throwing all his belongings into boxes. He turned to leave, and ran straight into Angel who was standing in the doorway - silent, arms folded.

'Jesus man!' the stool pigeon protested, 'can't you, you know, knock?'

'You don't make that funny expression when I knock, or if you do - I don't see it.'

The demon just wanted to get rid of the vampire as quickly as he could - so he gave up the information he had without any delay. 'Big meeting tomorrow night - some top level Wolfram and Hart brass. 9:30 Diaghilev. This concludes my career as a snitch, alright?'

'Why the rush to relocate?' Angel wanted to know, eyeing up the hasty packing.

'Uhm -let's see - there's you. Plus every other crook and monster in this town thinks he can waltz right in here and pound me until they get information - without paying for it either. At least the British guy understood how a professional relationship worked. How is old Wesley anyway? And the other kids you fired? They OK? Even Doyle? - word is it's looking bad for him - you checking he's coping alright?..let me guess...you haven't even bothered to speak to any of em?'

Angel just stood there - stony faced. 'This had better pan out', he said, meaning the tip.

'Nine thirty at Diaghilev,' Merl reiterated, 'pleasure doing business with you.'


The next day, Anne was working her way around the shelter, trying to record as many of the teenagers names as possible. The shelter was packed - and there were a lot of new faces - she didn't want anyone slipping through the cracks. But she didn't understand why the shelter was so busy. As she worked, she found herself by the teenage boy who had arrived late last night - maybe he could shed some light on their overcrowding situation.

'Hey Kenny,' she said to him, 'long time no see- what made you come here last night?'

'It was real cold out', the boy shrugged, 'I was getting frost bit.'

'It was 65 degrees,' she pointed out. 'Why'd you come in? For real - this time?'

He looked at her for a long moment, and then sighed. 'Cops,' he answered.

'Cops?' she didn't understand. But, reluctantly, Kenny told her his tale. The cops had been harassing everyone recently - but last night he and his friend had been down on 39th when the police officer had appeared and BAM slugged him on the jaw, out of nowhere. The hit had been so hard, Kenny had thought he might lose some teeth. The cop had then assaulted the teenage girl, before going for his nightstick. Kenny had grabbed the girl and the pair of them had fled to the centre - the cop chasing them the whole way.

Anne frowned, 'we got a problem,' she said.

'Yeah a big problem. Good luck solving it - who you gonna call - the cops?'

But Anne thought she might know someone who could help...


The door to the new Angel investigations opened and Anne walked in. Gunn looked up and smiled when he saw her 'Annie! Haven't seen you in forever - what brings you to this neck of the woods?' The pair of them hugged. 'Oh,' she smiled, 'I just thought I'd see how the other half live,' she glanced around the room, 'and funnily enough it's not that different.'

'We like to think of it as early American dilapidated,' Cordelia said, shaking Anne's hand, 'I'm Cordelia.'

'Anne, this is Cordy, Wesley and Doyle - my coworkers. Anne runs a teen runaway shelter on Crenshaw - not far from my old neighbourhood.'

Anne smiled at Cordelia and Wesley, and then frowned when she saw Doyle. 'Have we met?' she asked. The others all turned to look at him - equally questioning in their expressions.

'Ah - ' Doyle cleared his throat, uncomfortably, 'I handed y' that video tape back at the fundraiser - I was a waiter back then.'

'Angel investigations,' Anne said, realising the link. 'You guys work for that tall guy in the trench coat?'

'We did,' Gunn agreed, 'now it's just a name - he left.'

'Too busy trying to bring down Wolfram and Hart to bother with you guys, huh?' she asked.

'That sounds about right,' Cordelia agreed.

'So why were you there at the fundraiser?' Anne questioned Doyle.

'I - uh - I was tryin' to keep the lines o' communication between us open ...it didn't pan out, if it isn't about his vendetta - Angel doesn't wanna know.' Doyle shrugged, looking casual - but he was stung by his own words. It hurt to say it out loud. Angel didn't care about them - didn't care about him. Everyone looked downcast, for a moment, but then Gunn shook himself, 'so what brings you here?' he asked Anne.

'There's something I wanted to run by you,' she told him.

The others got back to researching Stephanie Sharp's third eye, whilst Anne told Gunn the story of the overzealous cops. 'It wasn't just Kenny,' she said, 'I spoke to lots of the kids and they all said the same thing. No provocation. No reason. The police are just terrorising them.'

'Renegade cops,' Gunn said thoughtfully, 'not my usual'

'Oh that's right you used to hunt-' she cut herself off, glancing up at the other three. The young street fighter followed her gaze. 'It's OK,' he told her, 'they know what's what. Hell - Doyle, here, aint even fully human - every time he sneezes he turns into this weird, scary ass demony hedgehog thing.'

'And we're just tellin' everyone that incredibly personal bit of information are we now?' Doyle asked without even looking up from his book.

Gunn grinned, 'Sorry man! But you see - you don't have to worry about these guys.'

'We used to work for a vampire, hello!' Cordelia pointed out.

'Trench coat guy's a vampire?' Anne asked. Gunn nodded. 'It's a long story. We still hunt vampires, but if there's one thing I've learned there's a lot of stuff out there that's worse than a set of teeth.'

'Like cops beating on my kids? Speaking of which I better get back over there.'

'I'll come with you,' Gunn said, getting up, 'you guys OK without me for a while?' he asked the others.

They all nodded their agreement, again without looking up. 'A client got bit by a demon,' Gunn told Anne as they headed out, 'she grew a third eye in the back of her head - we're trying to get rid of it.'

'That sounds ...handy,' Anne said as she stepped through the door and onto the street.

'So tell me more about this situation,' Gunn said to her, as they walked away.

...

Up on the rooftops, unnoticed by the pair of them, Angel stood watching the office. They were OK in there, he thought. They looked busy. They looked like they were coping. Doyle seemed fine. People - Merl, the Host, - even Lilah, kept mentioning Doyle, as if there was something wrong with him - but there he was, in the office - doing research with the rest of them. It was good - he decided - that they were doing well. It was good that they didn't need him. That was a good thing. It was.

Staying at roof level, he trailed Anne and Gunn through the streets. He stayed at a distance the whole time - and followed them all the way back to Crenshaw.


Inside the shelter, Gunn spoke with the kids - getting them to tell him what was going on. They told him what they had told Anne - that the cops were out for blood, that they were attacking without provocation, that the kids were getting hurt. 'It's outrageous,' Anne said, 'these cops are gonna kill someone. We have to do something.'

Gunn looked from the kids towards Anne, and then back again. She always saw the best in everyone, would always side with the teens - and maybe they were playing her. 'Hey, Anne, you think you could give us a minute?' he asked her. She frowned, but she agreed to it, getting up and going to her office to get on with some paperwork. He waited until she was gone and then fixed the kids with a stern stare. 'You playin' her?' he demanded. But the teens were adamant that this wasn't the case. This wasn't a normal sweep by the police, done to shut the concerned Moms up. This was war, and every teen was a target.


Angel stepped away from the window. He had heard enough - there was a problem, he would try to fix it. If these cops were half as dangerous as the kids made out then he didn't want Gunn - or any of his people - getting mixed up in this. He began to walk away.

'Keep your hands where I can see them.'

The vampire stopped, raised his hands, and turned around to face the policeman who had accosted him. 'I'm sorry, officer, have I done something wrong?'

'Turn around, face the fence, place your hands on your head.'

'This is a mistake.'

The cop swung his nightstick straight into Angel's jaw and slammed him into the fence. 'You're under arrest.'

'Believe me - you don't wanna do this.' Angel pushed the cop away from himself, but the cop rebounded off a parked car and came right back at him, swinging his stick. 'You have the right to remain silent', he said, calmly, as if there had been no interruption. Angel pushed him again, this time the cop hit the fence but continued to speak, headed once more for the vampire.

Angel tried punching him and kicking him, but nothing seemed to stop or even slow the police officer. He just kept getting back up, reading the Miranda rights as he did so. Eventually, Angel managed to fell the cop. The police officer crumpled to the floor and the vampire began to walk away. But he had only gone a few more steps when the cop's voice cut through the air once more, 'you have the right to an attorney...'

Angel spun round and kicked out, the momentum and force took the cops' head off - clean off. The decapitated head bounced off the windshield of the parked car. Angel stared. He shouldn't have been able to kick a head off like that - no way did he have that kind of power. But, as he looked, the head became decayed and rotten. 'Do you understand these rights as I have...' The decapitated head droned - sounding slow - like a machine winding down.

The words stopped. Angel glanced at the headless body lying in the road. It was also now decayed. A silver police badge gleamed on the chest of it's rotting uniform...