Xander

A Scooby meeting.

At 2 in the morning.

Have I mentioned yet that sometimes it sucks to be me?

"Okay, we're all here," I announced with my usual gusto. "Everyone's present and accounted for, even the undead bastard in the bathtub."

Spike's voice floated in from down the hallway. "Hey, I heard that, you know!"

When I said everyone, I meant everyone. We were sitting in Giles' living room as a fire crackled in the fireplace, casting a warm, orange glow about the place. Anya and I were on the couch, Willow and Tara were standing near the kitchen, Giles was in his favorite chair and Spike, as usual, was tied up in the bathroom. The only person missing from this little soirée was Riley. And judging from the way the dark haired man standing next to Buffy kept looking at her, I had a good idea why.

"So, what's the big deal, Buff? And who's the new guy?"

Hey, somebody had to get the ball rolling!

Buffy didn't say anything right away, so the man in question answered for her. "My name's Alan Francis Doyle. And I've come to warn you that you're all in danger."

"So, what else is new?" Spike yelled from down the hall. "With this crew, there's always a bit of danger involved!"

"Ignore Spike," I told Doyle with a friendly smile. "Everyone else does."

Spike was indignant. "I heard *that* as well! And you'd bloody well better hurry it up with your little meeting! I've got today's episode of Passions on tape and I want to watch it before I die of old age! Oh, wait… I'm immortal. Silly me."

I rolled my eyes.

Then Willow interrupted us. "Doyle… where have I heard that name before?"

Finally Buffy spoke up. "He used to work for Angel."

Well, that ended all the festivities right on the spot. Saying Dead Boy's name in a room full of Scoobies seemed to have that effect. They probably have his picture next to the word "downer" in the dictionary. Or at least, they would if vampires could be in photographs.

"So, why is he here?" Anya asked, not one to beat around the bush. "Didn't Angel want him around anymore?"

Buffy frowned. "Actually, I don't think you ever told me that part of the story, Alan."

I waited for Doyle's reply, just as curious as everyone else in the room.

"Well," the man in question replied softly, his gaze fixed firmly on his scuffed up boots, "I died."

That sure wasn't the answer I'd been expecting.

"Hey, is that Peaches' mick in there with you?" Spike yelled into the silence, a definite whining note entering his voice now. "Why do I always miss out on all the good stuff?"

Seven voices answered him in unison. "Shut up, Spike!"

Willow gave Doyle an odd look. "Aren't you a little too… um…. alive to be dead? I mean, usually we can spot the dead ones pretty quickly. That whole pale skin, no breathing thing tends to give it away."

"I'm not a vampire, if that's what you're thinking, lass. And I'm very much alive."

Giles looked puzzled. "I hope you don't mind my asking, but, if you died… how did you manage to… er… unshed your mortal coil, so to speak?"

Doyle shrugged. "That question, even I don't know the answer to. All I can figure is that the Powers that Be decided to keep me around for a bit longer. So they must've pulled a few strings here and there."

"Gee, do you think you can vague that up for us a bit?" I quipped, rolling my eyes.

Tara frowned, skipping over my comment and getting back to the issue at hand. "But, to bring someone back from the dead… they must've had a really good reason… that's not something to be done frivolously." She fixed Doyle with a slightly fearful gaze. "What could be so important that they'd go to the trouble to raise the dead?"

Almost as if on cue, Doyle screamed and grabbed his head in both hands as a particularly powerful vision started to flash through his brain. In the midst of his thrashing, his foot got tangled in a throw rug and he fell backwards. Buffy's quick reflexes were the only thing that saved him from crashing into the fireplace and being engulfed in flames. She caught him and carefully lowered him to the ground, her slayer strength only barely able to control his violent movements.

My eyes grew wide. I'd never seen anyone in that much pain before in my life. And, since being a Slayerette involved witnessing plenty of pain and violence, that was saying a lot.

"What the bloody hell is going on in there? Did someone have a heart attack? And if they're dead, can I eat them?" Spike called from the bathroom, but no one even thought to answer. Everyone in the room was focused on Doyle, who had started to quiet down.

As his spasms finally stopped, Buffy placed a cool hand over his forehead and began to murmur soothing words into his ear. "Shh…. it's okay. I'm here. Everything is going to be all right. I promise."

I raised an eyebrow at this show of affection but didn't comment.

"D… does that h… happen often?" Tara asked worriedly, her eyes as big as saucers. Her stutter was always worse when her emotions were really unstable. "It must be h… horrible for h… him."

Willow reached out and took hold of her girlfriend's hand, giving it a comforting squeeze. Tara smiled at the redheaded witch gratefully.

Buffy looked up and met Giles' eyes, knowing without asking that he'd be intensely interested in the research aspect of all of this. "He has visions. They're like memos from God or something and they always warn him of dangerous stuff that's about to go down." Turning her attention back to Doyle, she added softly, "He never said anything about them being this painful…" She looked really worried.

My memories from when I was soldier boy included training as a field medic, so I decided to put them to good use. I walked over and knelt beside them, quickly checking Doyle's vitals. Everything seemed okay, or about as okay as one could be after having a mild seizure.

"I think he'll be all right," I told Buffy softly, giving her a small smile of encouragement.

She nodded once, silently thanking me, before turning her attention back to the unconscious man before her. She smoothed his dark hair back from his forehead, watching intently for any sign of movement on his part. When his eyes began to flutter open, she relaxed visibly and plastered an overly bright smile on her face, presumably for Doyle's benefit. "Hey, welcome back," she whispered, continuing to run her fingers through his hair soothingly.

Doyle looked up at her and his whole face lit up. It was a pretty dramatic transformation, especially from his previous "I've just suffered a mild heart attack" expression. "Is that concern I see, lass?" he replied with a crooked grin.

"Of course it is, you big doofus!" Buffy replied with an exasperated sigh, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

"Well, well," Doyle replied softly, his grin growing wider in response to hers. "Will wonders never cease?"

Buffy mock-frowned at him. "Hey, if you're not careful, these wonders will start ceasing, buddy. So you'd just better watch it!"

He smirked, allowing the Slayer to take his hand and help him to his feet. "I'll try to remember that in the future."

I noticed that once they were both standing, Buffy still didn't let go of Doyle's hand. But I thought it wise not to comment. Anya, however, didn't have that level of tact. "Okay, can you two stop with the lovey-dovey eyes and focus here? We have way more important issues at stake than your sex lives."

I rolled my eyes. "My girlfriend, she certainly has a way with words, doesn't she?"

Buffy ignored us and focused on Doyle. And she continued to hold his hand. I didn't know if it was because she just wanted to or because she was trying to prove something and I didn't ask, either.

"What did you see?" she asked him, anxiety coloring her voice.

Doyle sighed with the look of a man who hates being the bearer of bad news. Something he probably had a lot of experience with. "There's a girl, brunette, strong, goes by the name of Faith."

Buffy's expression hardened, her lips thinning into a tight line. "We know her."

Doyle nodded. "I figured as much." He ran his free hand through his hair, a nervous habit from the looks of it. "Well, she's in LA making trouble. And Angel's in the middle of it."

"So what else is new?" I spoke up with a shrug. "After all, trouble and Angel, pretty much synonyms."

Buffy dropped Doyle's hand as she got into Slayer mode. "We'll have to go help him. A rogue slayer roaming around loose in LA might be too much for even Angel to handle alone."

Giles nodded. "That seems like the prudent course of action, Buffy. And perhaps you'd best take Mr. Doyle along with you. He already knows the area and I'm sure that Angel will want to know that his friend is alive and well."

Buffy nodded decisively. "Sounds like a plan."

"What about the rest of us?" I asked. I didn't really want to go to LA and watch some more of the Buffy/Angel angst parade, but I had to at least offer. As slayerette and best friend, it was my job. "Should we tag along for moral support and research duty?"

Giles shook his head. "No, Faith is not an unknown quantity. I'm sure Buffy and Angel will be able to handle her, with Mr. Doyle's assistance, of course. And since we still have Adam and the Initiative to worry about, we'll have our hands full here in their absence."

Willow nodded, an excited look crossing her features. She leaned forward in her seat eagerly, almost bouncing in place with pent up energy. "Tara and I actually have a spell that we've been working on that might help us stop Adam…"

As Buffy, Giles and the others moved in closer to listen to what Willow had to say, I noticed Doyle looking extremely uncomfortable. He shifted back and forth from foot to foot for a while before finally speaking up. "I think I'm gonna go feor a walk; clear my head a bit." That said, he slipped out the door.

"What's his problem?" Anya wondered aloud, frowning after him.

I had a pretty good idea, but I kept my mouth shut. After all, I'd done the "living in Angel's shadow" thing for almost two years and I knew exactly how much it sucked. (No pun intended.) Sometimes you just needed to be alone to think things over.

"I'll be right back," Buffy said suddenly, turning and following Doyle outside. That, in and of itself, floored me. Here we were, faced with a situation that could be potentially deadly to the almighty Angel, and Buffy was more concerned with the new guy's well being? That was a level of emotion that both Riley and myself had tried to get out of her, but we'd both failed time and again.

Looking over at Willow, I saw that she was watching Buffy's retreating figure with a similar thoughtful expression on her face. She saw it, too. "Well," I said aloud, when I was sure that Buffy was out of earshot. "Looks like the third time really was the charm."

Willow only smiled in agreement.