To Days Gone By
By Cynamin & NutMeg
Disclaimer: We own nothing having to do with Angel or Highlander. So just enjoy.
Part Two
Cordelia was late. She knew Angel wouldn't yell at her, or even be mad at her. He'd just give her this *look* and then give her something to do as if it was a usual day. She just hated that.
The door was locked, though, when she went to enter. Confused, she slipped the key from her purse and into the office door, opening it easily. the office was silent. "Hello?" she called, closing the door behind her.
No one answered.
"Guys, I know I'm late but that's no reason to lock me out!"
She sighed. Then she remembered that last she had seen Angel he was heading off after some sword fighter. *Probably got himself hurt and didn't tell anyone.* She worked her way across the office and to the stairs.
"If you went and got killed I'm going to stake you, I swear,' she muttered, not even hearing the absurdity of her statement.
A heady stench nearly knocked Cordelia off her feet as she entered the apartment. She didn't need to sniff to find out what it was, it was accosting her nostrils with all the strength of a months dirty trash. *Why would there be liquor down here?* She stepped further inside, covering her nose with her sleeve, and stopped short at the sight in front of her.
Angel was sprawled haphazardly across his couch, mouth open, snoring loudly. His normally neat appearance was non-existent, as his shirt was rumpled and obviously slept in. There were stains all over it from spilled liquid and it wasn't blood.
Nearly covering the table was a mountain of bottles; some standing, some laying on their sides. Not a one had anything in it. Taking a quick inventory Cordelia was shocked. *16 bottles?!* Could anyone *drink* that much and live? Of course, Angel wasn't exactly *alive* but still! *When did he take up intoxication as a hobby?*
What surprised her the most was what slept in the chair on the other side of the glass mountain. A man, also reeking of alcohol, but much less slovenly looking and not snoring, was looking quite comfortable. He was the man from the vision! One of the sword guys. And yet here he was, in her boss's apartment, and they both appeared to have been having a great time the night before.
Cordelia bent over to take a closer look at Angel.
"Don't move."
Cordelia's eyes opened wide and she turned slowly around. The man in the chair's eyes were dark, and amazingly clear. They seemed to hold her in place. "I...I just want to see if he's okay."
The dark-haired man with the accent that sounded a little like a cross between Wesley and Doyle chuckled. "With seven bottles of good Irish whisky in him he's probably dreaming of some heavenly nymph. He's fine. Let him sleep or if you don't kill him the hangover will."
Cordelia took one last look at Angel and stood to face the sword man. "And may I ask who you are to be drinking with my boss?"
He chuckled again. "An old friend of his youth."
"That's impossible, he-" she cut herself off from going further.
"I know," he said. "I'm not a demon, but I'm not your average Joe either. I'm quite a bit older than he, but in a different way. You may call me Adam. Or Methos if you prefer," He extended one hand politely. "That being my given name. Though most people prefer Adam."
"Cordelia," she replied, taking it. She was a little startled when he kissed it. "So how come *he's* passed out when you had more?"
Adam laughed. "Let's just say what makes me older than Angel is what allows me to drink like a fish."
"Oh," Cordelia said briefly, still confused as hell.
Angel took that moment to return to the land of the living...or whatever. The voices had awoken him, and he went to sit up. He flopped back down with a groan.
"Good morning," Cordelia said with false sweetness.
Angel looked at her, bleary eyed. "Not really," he muttered. His head was pounding, and it felt as if his stomach was trapped in a vice, which was twisting it in contortion-like, and what should have been physically impossible, positions. "Can you go talk somewhere else?" he croaked. "And let me die in peace."
"You're already dead," Cordelia reminded him in her usual bright voice.
"Shhhh," the sick vampire held one wavering finger to his lips. "Hell's starting to look good about now."
Adam stood and went into the bathroom, returning with water and about a dozen aspirin. "Here. You can't overdose when you're already dead."
Angel focused his eyes on his friend's face, grateful for the inherent darkness of his apartment. "Thanks. I'd forgotten this part." With that he practically inhaled the pills. They took effect quickly. With a moan, the vampire managed to get into a sitting position. "And you look bright as daisies in the morning."
Adam just shrugged. "I told you, it takes an ungodly amount to get me drunk. It takes three solid *days* of drunk to give me a hangover of any kind. Though you have an impressive tolerance."
Cordelia looked at the two men. "Would someone like to tell me what this little Irish drinking festival was all about?"
"Women," Adam replied with a smirk.
"Oh no," Cordelia groaned. "You mean you put up with broody Buffy boy?"
"Put up with it? He *encouraged* it," Angel muttered as he finished downing the aspirin.
"And it took me a lot of good Irish hospitality to even get him to talk," Adam replied with a chuckle. "He's been keeping that friendly Irish spirit locked up. He was much more open the last time we met."
"When was this?" Cordelia asked.
"Drinking in a pub," Adam replied. "There were some lovely ladies there as I recall."
Angel could actually feel himself flush with embarrassment at Cordelia's wide eyed stare. "I was 26 years old," he muttered. "We all make mistakes."
"But...Angel!"
"It was the night...the night before I met Darla," Angel said finally. At the confused looks he received, he explained. "The night before I became a vampire."
That sentence was met with shocked silence.
"Oh, Angel," Cordelia whispered.
"If I'd known it was going to happen," Adam shook his head. "When I came too you were long gone. I headed in the other direction to keep anyone from associating the dead body with me and then back to you. I could have stopped you."
Angel shook his head. "No. It wasn't something you could have stopped. And besides," he smiled a little. "I never would have met Buffy."
Once again the apartment fell silent. Cordelia hadn't the slightest clue how to respond to that. Adam just looked at him for a moment. "Well, I suppose that's one less thing I have to feel guilty about, then," he said after a moment.
"I suppose so," Angel agreed. He was still smiling faintly. "You know, I've never really thought about it that way before? I guess last night *was* good for something."
"Besides a good drink," Adam chuckled. "Though I am hungry enough to eat a cow. I'm completely empty."
"Well, good," Cordelia grinned, coming back to the moment at hand. "I've got donuts upstairs. That is, if Angel can *make* it upstairs?" She looked at him with amused reproach.
Angel stood *very* slowly. "You go on ahead," he said wearily. "I'm going to take a shower...and then try and see if I can eat anything. I'll join you both in a few minutes."
"Okay," Cordelia shrugged. "Care to join me?" she asked Adam.
"I would be delighted," he replied grinning as he stood. "It's been a long time since I was in the company of such a lovely lady."
Cordelia flashed him her best smile. "So, you taught Angel how to drink. How come you couldn't teach him to be as charming as you are as well?"
Adam chuckled. "Some people just aren't the brightest students," he said, loud enough for Angel to hear as they went up the stairs. "And I can't really take credit for the drinking. He was doing just fine on his own before *I* met him. It's an Irish thing I think."
"Hey!" Angel called after them, only to hear their laughter as they disappeared. Slowly he made his way into the bathroom, leaving only the nightlight on so as not to bother his sensitive head. Stripping off his rumpled clothing, he stepped into the steaming water.
As the hot liquid coursed down his body, Angel slowly felt the last vestiges of pain leave his system. That is, his stomach stopped twisting, but his head still pounded incessantly. Slowly his thoughts returned to the night before. *I can't believe I was that drunk! What's wrong with me lately? Was I really in such a state that it was so simple to get me completely soaked?*
Angel had to concede that apparently he was. He sighed. Ever since they had managed to correctly translate the prophecy he'd stolen from Wolfram and Hart to discover that he was going to be human again someday, he'd been thinking about Buffy. It didn't help matters that he'd found this out six months to the day from the day that never happened. It had been hard from time to time to not call Buffy, or head back to Sunnydale for no reason than to see her. Now it was even worse.
*Oh Buffy, why do I keep doing this to myself? What would you say if I called you?* Methos was right. He had always been too afraid that she would turn him down permanently. Or that he'd find she had moved on so far that she wasn't even his Buffy anymore. *His* Buffy. It surprised him that he still thought of her that way. He had to admit that he probably always would.
He turned off the shower finally, exhausted and emotionally weary. Maybe...whenever this current crisis was over... But who was he kidding? There was always something more going on, something else to take care of. And how was he supposed to earn his humanity if he didn't fight?
It suddenly occurred to Angel that he didn't know what he was fighting this time. He highly doubted that last night's drinking binge had been what the Powers That Be had in mind when they sent Cordelia that vision. Though you could never be sure...
"Are you coming, slowpoke?" Cordelia's voice echoed down the stairs.
"Yeah, I'm coming!" he managed to yell back without splitting his head in two. He toweled off and went into the bedroom to get some clothes. His mind wandered back to it's previous train of thought. Why *had* Cordelia had a vision of Methos? Did they just have a sense of humor, or was there something else? A thought struck him so clearly that he was amazed he hadn't thought of it before. *I was too besotted," he thought, a little disgusted with himself. What if the vision had not been about Methos, but the *other* Immortal?
Quickly consuming his own breakfast, and managing not to have his stomach revolt, Angel was as ready as he was going to be to face his brighter-than-they-should-be friends waiting upstairs. It wasn't fair...All these years, and he was still the one of the two of them that ended up with a hangover.
Taking the elevator to conserve energy in his dilapidated state, Angel arrived upstairs to find Methos and Cordelia sitting on the couch in the office, chatting happily over donuts and coffee. "Do I want to know what you're talking about?" he asked, fearing the worst.
Cordelia and Methos looked at him, looked at each other again, and started laughing. "Probably not," Methos said.
Cordelia wouldn't leave it at that. "The talking stick," she said with a smirk.
Angel groaned. "Cordelia!"
"What?" she smiled innocently. "You were so *cute* as a big huggable teddy bear."
The vampire sighed and shook his head. This was really too much for one morning. In fact, everything from running into Methos to this point was more than enough weird things and soul searching for even *his* lifetime, and it was just too much to wrap his fog-filled mind around. "You're weird, Cordelia," he said, pouring himself a cup of coffee, black.
Cordelia couldn't help but laugh at that. "Look who's talking! Compared to everyone else here, I'm quite normal."
Angel took a sip of coffee and fought a grimace, then turned around to smile tolerantly at her. "Which, when you think about it, makes you weird in comparison."
"I'm from the Hellmouth, work for a Vampire, and I've carried evil demon babies. So I'd say I'm just as weird/normal or whatever as the rest of you!" Cordelia challenged, grinning.
"She has a point," Methos grinned, enjoying the show.
Angel grinned easily back. "Yeah, I guess she does," he agreed. "well, since you two seem to have settled in quite nicely, I guess it's time to get down to business."
"Business?" Cordelia asked with a whine.
Methos looked at Angel curiously. "What did you have in mind?"
"When I found you last night, it was because Cordelia had a vision," Angel tried to explain. "That typically means some sort of trouble - someone who needs my help, some demon that needs to be fought - something."
"And this vision showed me taking the other one's head," Methos nodded. "Which would explain why you were tracking me."
"Exactly," Angel replied. "But somehow I don't think you were what they were focusing on, unless they just wanted me to loosen up a bit last night."
"You think it might have been Gerard, the young upstart that tried to pick a fight with me."
Angel nodded. "That's the only thing that makes sense," he agreed. "But you said he was just a nobody. So that doesn't help much."
"Maybe he's trying to become somebody."
The two immortals looked at Cordelia in surprise.
"What?" she said, looking up at them both. "That's why everyone else comes to L.A."
Methos looked at Angel. "It makes sense," he said simply. "Cliché, but makes sense."
Angel shook his head. "Sometimes I'm just amazed by people's motives. But why would he be stupid enough to pick a fight with *you?*"
"Because I'm the oldest, and the strongest," Methos replied. "If he could take me it would save him thousands of years of work. He only needs one lucky blow."
Still Angel looked thoughtful. "Yes, but..." He paused, trying to figure out how to say what he wanted to. "In my experience," he said finally, "someone trying to take power fast still starts with the easier targets. If he was going to take you on, he had to be pretty sure of his chance of winning."
"Which could just mean he's arrogant and stupid," Methos pointed out.
"Or he could know something we don't," Angel added. "Cordelia had a vision," he pointed out. "That has yet to mean there's an easy answer."
"Maybe he has help," Cordelia suggested. "Other new Immortals or something. Would he work with demons?"
"He might," Methos nodded. "I doubt it's another Immortal though. This one won't live very long, and he's not the type to allow someone to have power over him. I'd go with the demon option. Something weak and easier to kill."
"Demons," Angel agreed easily. "With me it's always demons."
"Not always!" Cordelia said helpfully. "One time...I mean, there was that doctor who was sending pieces of himself after that girl he was stalking."
"Cordelia," Angel said firmly.
"What? I was just saying that it's not always demons."
Angel and Methos just looked at each other. "So, demons?" Methos asked.
"That would be my guess," Angel replied blandly, ignoring Cordelia's indignant glare. "Which means there has to be a place in town where he can recruit these guys. Not to mention someplace for them to lay low, and meet."
"Ugh," Cordelia said under her breath. "Does that mean we're trolling for demons again?"
Angel thought about it for a second. "There are...several places I know of that demons gather. I can't get to any of them right now because of...sunlight," Angel said, gesturing to the window.
"But we can," Methos said, meaning himself and Cordelia.
"Right," Angel agreed. "I'll see what I can find out from the underground."
"The underground?"
"From...the things that live underground."
"Oh," Methos nodded. "Then where should we start?"
Cordelia sighed, sounding disgusted with the whole concept. "Come on," she muttered. "I've done this with him before. You want to see some demons? I can show you some demons. Really gross and disgusting ones too."
"Cordelia!"
"What? I'm going!"
Part Three
"This is it," Cordelia whispered to Angel and Methos in their cramped hiding place behind the old building. She and the Immortal had searched the bars and demon hangouts of LA for three days before having the luck to run into this Gerard during one of his recruiting nights. It seemed he was using demons to kill new or less experienced Immortals, and making sure he was the closest Immortal so that he would get the quickening. A clever, if cowardly, plan. Methos had been able to leave the bar before Gerard could sense him, and Cordelia had tailed the younger Immortal back to his "lair," a rundown old building with sewer access. "So what's our plan?" she asked.
"We're supposed to have a plan?" Methos asked amused.
Angel ignored the joke. "Is Gerard any match for you in a fair fight?"
"I can take him," Methos said with certainty.
Angel nodded. "Then we'll just have to make it a fair fight," he said. "I'll concentrate on the demons."
Cordelia looked at him aghast. "But...you don't even know how many demons there are!"
"Have you ever been in a tavern brawl Cordelia?" Angel grinned at her.
"Of course not!" She glared at him indignantly.
The vampire's face took on a feral grin. "Then just trust me. In a brawl, ten on one can be a fair fight. Just make sure you're accurate with that crossbow. This will be a close quarters battle."
As Angel stood, his face determined, Cordelia grabbed his arm urgently. "Just...don't get killed, all right? How are you supposed to 'shanshu' or whatever if you get killed?" She smiled slightly to soften her statement. "Plus, you owe me my paycheck."
"Don't worry," he smiled kindly. "I have no intention of dying."
"Besides," Methos grinned. "He's already dead. They can't exactly do much to him."
"Besides stake me," Angel replied glibly. "All right. On my mark, Cordelia and I will take the front door. Methos take the back."
Cordelia held her crossbow tightly. The fact that she'd done this before didn't make her feel much better. "I'm ready," she whispered.
Angel nodded, and the three of them began their approach. "Now!" he signaled them. Methos darted around the side of the building, and Angel kicked in the door, axe swinging, while Cordelia let loose with the crossbow.
The room was full of demons, though mostly vampires. It was a stroke of luck for the invading force, since that meant that most of their foe would go *poof* if killed properly. Angel had a stake at his belt just in case, and now he was glad he had brought it.
The assembled demons turned in surprise as soon as Angel entered. Their shock was only momentary, however, and soon they were faced with a furious crowd, all turning on them at once. From Angel's point of view, Gerard was no where to be seen. He wasn't Angel's concern though. He was more worried about the first of his opponents who would be more than happy to take him down. Not really looking at what exactly he was hitting, Angel just kept himself and his axe moving.
At the other end of the building, Methos was stalking through an empty hallway following the sense he had of another Immortal. He was sure the young fool could feel *him* and that it would be only a matter of time before they came face to face. He came around a corner, and smiled. "Weren't expecting to see me again soon, were you?"
Gerard held his sword in front of him, flanked by demons on either side. "I never like to wait too long for a battle," he replied.
The demons were practically drooling at the sight of the older Immortal. Or maybe that was just slime...
"You know the rules. This is between you and me," Methos stated.
"Yeah, well my friends aren't exactly covered by our rules."
Methos shrugged. "So it'll be a little more of a workout. I've yet to meet anything that couldn't be killed with a good decapitation." He crouched in a fighting stance and faced his opponent.
Gerard pushed his shaggy brown hair out of his eyes and motioned for the demons to encircle them both. If Methos did win, he might not get out of this alive.
The older Immortal didn't let the other see his shudder.
At the front of the building, Angel wasn't faring too well. Fortunately Cordelia had managed to find a safe place from which to fire her crossbow, but she couldn't fire too close to Angel for fear of hitting him as well. To say the least, it was getting messy.
Angel was sincerely wishing he'd taken the time to find out how many demons Gerard had at his call before doing this. Sure, they were mostly weaker demons and vampires, but that didn't mean they couldn't overwhelm him. There were a number of dead demon bodies and a lot of dust around where Angel fought, but still they kept on coming.
He hacked off a demon's leg, sending it crashing to the ground and tripping the two behind it. With a downward stroke he caught the other two in their heads. He thanked the Powers that Be that the axe had a large head. A sharp wooden crossbow bolt whizzed by his ear and staked a vampire coming at him from his right. *That was close,* he thought, spinning in the other direction. He hoped Methos was faring better.
Methos had decided he *really* didn't like dealing with demons. All this slime and dust and supernatural strength...give him a normal Immortal any day. He was tired from fighting the demons, but uninjured. With the couple of demons he had killed and the commotion going on in the front of the building, most of the creepies had backed off.
Taking a moment to catch his breath, Methos shifted his grip on his sword. "It's down to you and me, Gerard," he said strongly.
The younger Immortal's smile was cocky. "You might want to give up now, old man. No use in breaking a sweat before you die."
Methos didn't answer, but instead took a testing swing, which was easily blocked. He swung again. Several times he made moves that were fast, but by no means his fastest, and the other Immortal blocked most of them without horribly over exerting himself. Without changing his expression one bit, Methos began to step up the pace slowly, so the other Immortal wouldn't notice how hard he was really being pressed.
That wouldn't make up for the fact that he was already tiring, however. He tried not to show it, but the skirmish with the demons had winded him. This battle was going to be closer than he would have liked.
Gerard swung around him, feinting in and jumping back again, tiring himself out much more thoroughly than Methos could ever have done. If he kept that up, the fight wouldn't be much of a challenge, even if he *was* exhausted.
Still Methos kept the fight going. The longer it went, it seemed, the better a chance he'd have at winning. With the adreniline, he was feeling better by the second, while Gerard was looking decidedly weary. *No wonder he stuck with the demons. I'm amazed he won anything like this.*
His opening came. Gerard faltered half a step. It only took an eighth of a second, but Methos saw the opening and stabbed, running the young Immortal through at the shoulder.
Gerard collapsed to the ground, groaning. "You haven't...won yet," he managed, breathing laborously.
Methos stood over him, sword raised. "Give up, boy. You've made a very bad choice in opponents."
The sword dropped.
Angel stabbed again, ducked, and rolled to avoid a demon with a very nasty left hook. Cordelia had run out of crossbow bolts -and out of vampires to shoot them with- and was in among them now, stake in hand.
He felt it coming before it hit, like the feeling before a storm. It hung heavy in the air, prickling along his skin. The demons he was fighting felt it to and faltered in their advance. Some of them backed off quickly, disappearing out the building. Others looked around in confusion as the lights began to flicker. Then true chaos began.
If Angel hadn't known what hell was really like, he might have imagined it like what happened next. Lightning bolts coming from the ground and walls, crackling and sizzling in the air. The few weak light bulbs exploded, setting off the old cloth that covered what was left of the few pieces of furniture in the old warehouse. The flames reached upward, licking and eating at everything they could reach, bathing everything in a reddish glow that was punctuated by searing flashes of white light.
The remaining demons forgot all about the battle they'd just been fighting and ducked for cover, every demon for itself. Angel spared a glance to see that Cordelia was still safe, cowering in the spot where she had hidden from the beginning. Angel was pretty much out in the open, but he dropped to the floor to avoid being hit by anything and kept an eye on the flames.
Completely without warning or apparent cause, the lightning stopped as quickly as it had begun, and the room went nearly black, except for the ruddy glow of fire light. Angel uncovered his eyes in time to see a shape coming out of the fire, carrying a sword. Was it Methos...or Gerard? He heaved a sigh of relief as he caught sight of the elder Immortal's distinct facial features, even through the smoke.
Seeing the victor of the battle, the remaining demons scattered, running for the exits. Beyond exhausted, Angel let them go.
Cordelia emerged from her hiding place to join him. "Does that mean we won?" she asked, looking at the destruction within the warehouse.
"Yeah, we won," Methos replied, out of breath but smiling slightly.
"Come on," Angel said after a moment. "Let's get out of here before the whole building falls apart."
Running quickly, the three demon hunters exited the building, and didn't stop moving until they were safely back at Angel Investigations, where they collapsed in exhausted heaps onto Angel's furniture.
"What was that?" Angel finally asked Methos.
The Immortal sighed. "A Quickening. Not a very strong one, but more than I expected from such an unskilled opponent."
"If that was a weak one, I'm glad I don't work for you," Cordelia commented. "Demons are better any day."
"Though they sure ran from that inferno," Angel chuckled.
"That they did," Methos agreed.
Methos awoke the next morning with the sun, quietly rising from Angel's couch. He was surprised to see Angel watching him, standing in the bedroom doorway. "Aren't vampires supposed to be nocturnal?" he asked.
"I don't need much sleep," Angel replied, coming into the room. "What about you? Why are you up so early?"
"I should be going," the Immortal said. "I'm sure the police are still looking for the man who's been causing the sudden rash of beheadings. Even if I'm not the only Immortal in the city."
"Good luck then," Angel stood and shook his hand.
"Thanks," Methos smiled. "By the way, something I've been thinking about. What was that "shanshu" thing Cordelia mentioned last night. Right before the fight?"
Angel's eyes widened. "You have a good memory," he muttered.
"Lot's of practice," Methos replied. "And I think you're trying to avoid answering. It won't work."
"It's part of a prophecy I found recently. My prophecy, I guess you could say. In Wesley's words, there is an 'entire passage dedicated to a vampire with a soul.' Not much chance of it being anyone else."
"And what did this prophesy say?"
"It said, that someday I'll be human again," the Vampire said slowly.
Methos grinned. "And you're still in LA instead of running off to find your woman? That's more self restraint than I've got. Foolish too."
Angel looked at him sharply. "You know, I didn't tell you all of this for you to judge my actions," he said.
"Consider it wisdom from your elders," the Immortal replied. "She has a right to know."
Angel walked into the kitchen, talking at the same time. "I know," he said slowly. "I've almost called her every night. I just can't do it, though. I always stop. The one time I actually managed to dial I couldn't say a word when she picked up."
Methos nodded, smiling. "You'd have to say something if you were face to face."
Angel was silent for a moment. "Yeah, I would," he said slowly.
"So when are you leaving?" Methos asked.
Angel couldn't help but laugh slightly at that. "You win," he agreed. "I don't know when, exactly, but I'll go."
"You're not doing anything right now," the other man pointed out.
"You're not going to give up until I'm heading for Sunnydale, are you?" Angel asked with a grin. Methos just looked at him pointedly. Angel raised his hands in surrender. "Alright! I'll go. I just have a couple of minor things to do first, a couple of people to tell that I'm leaving, and I'll go." He stopped and laughed to himself. "I can't believe I'm doing this."
Methos laughed. "Give her a kiss for me," he said as he pulled on his coat and belted on his sword.
Angel smiled. "Methos?"
"Yes?"
"Thank you."
The End! For more on Angel's return to Sunnydale, read "Coming Home"