A/N- Thanks majorly for the immediate responses to chapter 10! Have I mentioned that I love you guys? Well, I do! Umm…there are a lot of you I'd love to thank for the continuing reviews (ie- you pretty much give one for every chapter) and/or the emails you've sent with really cool suggestions or even criticism (not that I've actually had much criticism yet, but I know it's coming). You know who you are and this chapter is sooo dedicated to you. Ummm… I'm also gonna say that its dedicated to every other person that posts a review (good or bad) 'cos it really does keep me going. I'm sure that I'm not the only author that needs the feedback and it's *never* too late to post a review. Anyhows, with the new boost of inspiration you've given me I'm posting the next chapter. 3…2…1…BLAST OFF! (Sorry…I always wanted to do that ^_^)

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"So there you have it, Wes. Angel's theory-slash-idea-slash-grasping at straws." I chirp from my seat on the corner of his desk. (Note to self: Wesley is a neat freak and doesn't seem to like it when you sit in the middle of his paperwork.) "Any ideas on where we go from here? 'cos that's kinda all we got."

Still glaring at me from behind his glasses for knocking a *few* sheets of paper onto the floor, he clears his throat. "Unfortunately," He manages, "There's not a whole lot to go on. Basically, all you two have worked out is you are here for a reason and the Powers sent you. There are a multitude of possibilities that can stem from that and, until we narrow the field a tad, I don't believe there's a lot we can do."

"But it's a start, right?" Angel prompts, walking past his boss and nudging him pointedly as he does.

I hide a smile. Its so sweet of him to try to get Wesley to be less blunt and try to not upset me, but he doesn't know how relieved I am to hear that I'm *not* going home yet. I know I'm being selfish, but this is so surreal and unbelievable…not to mention ultimately cool…I can't help but think of myself right now.

Wesley takes off his glasses and fidgets with them, passing it off as cleaning them with his shirt. "Uh…Of course. I was just saying that there's not a lot to start on. We might just need a little more information before- "

I cut him off. "Look, Wesley, it's fine. To tell you the truth I sorta don't want to leave." At the puzzled and concerned look he gives me, I rush out an explanation. "Don't get me wrong or anything…I can't wait to see my mum and friends and all…but I like it here. I really do. And I like these power thingies that I've got goin' on now. What's the bet that when you guys send me home, they'll disappear?"

Placing his glasses back on to rest on the bridge of his nose, a half-smile settles on his face and he nods. "I understand."

"Good." I slide off his desk and start to head out the door with the others, when he calls out again.

"Angel." Two of us spin to reply. From his seat, he points at the vampire. "No…not you." Then he points back at me. "You." Angel keeps walking out with a chuckle as Wesley holds a hand to his forehead. "Damn this is confusing. Why you couldn't have an ordinary nickname like everyone else-"

"Wesley." I interrupt, regaining his actual attention. "Is there a reason for calling me back…or are you babbling on about my name for nothing?"

"Sorry…" He replies. "I *was* calling you back to ask whether or not you intend on cleaning up the mess you made of my desk." I smirk sheepishly and he arches his brows. "Well?"

"Umm…I was going to…I just forgot…" I take in the glare of disbelief and drop the act. "Fine." I admit, tossing my hands into the air in mock defeat. "You got me. I wasn't gonna. But I will 'cos I love you sooo much. You are like sooo respectable and-"

Leaning back casually into his chair he rolls his eyes. "Would you please refrain from your ill-fated attempted at (air quotes) sucking up (close air quotes) because it's just humiliating for both of us and-"

Rolling my eyes and interrupt. "Wes…Lighten up. I was just playing is all…*Angel* even knows when I'm joking…and we're talking about *Angel* here…You know: He who is usually oblivious to all things remotely humorous." Wesley breaks into a huge grin and I laugh. "Much better."

"Speaking of Angel…" He says as I start to pick up the papers that I *might* have accidentally pushed off his desk and position them neatly back into place. "You seem to have really…uh…made some type of connection with our resident vampire."

I finish my minor chore and look down at the ex-watcher. "Yeah…I guess I have. But I'm not myself when I'm around him…I mean I *am*, but he makes me laugh and stammer and do all sorts of things that I'm not usually able to do around people that I'm not close to…like ramble. See…I'm doing that now, and all you did was *mention* him." I drop into the seat in front of his desk and he comes forward to lean against it, providing a more casual/personal opportunity for interaction, but at the same time disrupting the neat pile of papers that I *just* fixed. I look up at him and chuckle. "Don't misunderstand me here...Its not like I have this massive crush on him and think that I might actually have a chance…'cos I know otherwise…but he's just soo…"

"Compatible and Matched to your personality?" He raises an eyebrow at me. I nod uncertainly, so he continues. "The two of you are so alike in the ways you act, think and position yourselves around others that you've really hit it off, so to speak."

"Yeah…its strange, huh?" I stand up and start to pace. "I mean, I know his character soo well, but over the past season…I mean… from what I haven't seen, and what I don't know…It's like he's gone through a complete character reconstruction. Sure, there's still brooding and general stuff like that, but he's changed soo much from the last time I saw an episode of Angel that I feel like I don't know anything about him…But at the same time, it's like I know him really well…like a best friend, which is weird 'cos I've only really known him for a couple of days and… I'm babbling again aren't I?"

Wesley nods, unmoving from his position on the corner of his desk. "That you are…but I understand what you're trying to say. I don't believe that your ability to bond with Angel has anything to do with your knowledge of his past. It's more spiritual. I'm not trying to say that you're soul-mates or anything like that, but certainly the fact that you can sense his emotions and pretty much read him like an open book, which the rest of us find virtually impossible, and so forth is not anything to disregard."

And now the damn Brit has me questioning everything. I don't even wait to form my own thoughts, instead I opt to think out loud with Wesley listening. (Its funny…I almost pity him for it.) "Its not a lovey-dovey thing, though, y'know? It's very soul-bondish…as I think you just suggested. But I don't know why. You'd think that out of all the 'ANGEL' characters, a 17 year old would most easily bond with Cordy or Gunn, right? So why do I have such a connection with a 240-something year old vampire? Isn't the fact that our personalities are alike supposed to make us even less compatible? Opposites are supposed to attract…not alikes. Don't get me wrong…I like, no, *love* being able to connect with him, but if its only taken me 2 days and it took you guys 2 years…there's something strange going on, right?"

The ex-watcher shakes his head. "No. I don't think so. I believe that you've been what his soul needs. He's uncomfortable talking with Gunn because, lets face it, the two are not exactly the best of friends. Fred, as sweet and kind and bubbly and smart as she is-" (Uhoh… Wesley's got the big puppy love for Fred and it's getting even more obvious in the way he stares off into space when he thinks about her.) "-Is not able to understand his problems the way he'd like. I'm also probably a tad hard for him to talk to…for obvious reasons…our cultures clashing, the fact I'm now his boss even though he still seems to believe he runs the place at times, often with better judgement, but still…where was I?"

"Uh…Cordelia and Lorne, I think." (I also think that someone, not mentioning any names or certain ex-watchers, has some issues of his own to work out.)

"Right. Cordelia is his closest friend and family…but he can't talk to her, as she plays a main role in his brooding schedule. He loves her, yet cannot tell her for fear of destroying any bonds they may have between them. And Lorne…well…I doubt Angel would want to voluntarily relay all his woes on the demon…and I'm certain that he's not planning on singing anytime soon."

By now, we've walked into the adjoining room and he's pouring us each a cup of tea. I nod to the two sugars and he hands the cup to me. I stir it gently as we move to the little sofa setting in the lobby. I sit down and sip at my drink, then place it onto the small coffee table in front of me, deciding that its still a tad too hot for my liking. "So…where do I come in?" I ask.

Wesley places his cup on the table also and leans back contentedly in his seat. "You are knowledgeable, don't judge him on his demonic visage and are an extremely delightful young woman to talk with. Actually, it is hard to believe that you really are as young as 17 sometimes."

"Thanks…" I smile. "I get that a lot…But it still doesn't explain why we hit it off so easily and got so close so fast."

He shrugs and leans forward for his tea. "I *would* say that God works in mysterious ways…but that's always said too soon in our line of work." He raises the drink to his lips and takes a tender sip before placing it back onto the saucer and producing the tiny tinkling sound that china-on-china always makes. "For whatever reason…your presence here has really made him less edgy." He tells me, staring down at the cup in his hands. "You've given him sessions of counselling, so to speak, that release a lot of the current stresses imposed on him and for that I am truly grateful." I move to object, but he meets my gaze with a determined glare. "Don't say that it was nothing. Don't try to be modest or what have you, because you and I both know that when Angel keeps his feelings pent up inside…there are disastrous consequences." He pauses. "I hate to admit it, but I don't really want to help you leave us, for the second you do, he's going to start locking his feelings back up and I fear that he may turn again and-"

"No." I state bluntly. "*You* are going to have to talk to him. Sure, it's gonna be awkward at first…but, like you said, he *needs* to vent He needs someone to just listen, maybe offer some encouragement or stable and sensible advice from time to time. I know you can do that…But you need to make the first step, 'cos Angel's not going to. I kinda pushed him to talk it out with me, not the other way around. I'm like him when it comes to personal problems and brooding. I don't like to talk about my own. I keep it all hidden inside. But my friends keep pushing…and I'm grateful for it. That's why they're my friends and that's what real friends are for. Cordy's on the right track…but because it's her…you see where I'm going, right?"

"Yes. I do understand but-"

I hold up my hand to stop him from speaking but inadvertently flick his glasses from his face and onto the seat beside him. (At least he stopped speaking.) "Sorry…" I wince in embarrassment. "Didn't mean to do that."

"No harm done." He replies, reaching for the glasses and placing them back onto their original position. "Better they went flying than the cup of tea, right?"

"Oh…God Yeah…" I chuckle, still grinning sheepishly.

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The bed looks so welcoming. I want to flop down onto it and go to sleep. I've just returned to my room from a draining training session with Angel and all I can think of is how relaxing a nap or warm bath will be.

I take in the sight of the beautiful burgundy sheets that now cover my bed. Fred must have been in here sometime today to fix my room. I'd told her that it wasn't necessary, but she obviously decided otherwise. They look so clean and crisp that it seems almost a waste to crash down onto them. But I can't fight the urge any longer.

I'm about to collapse into a sleeping heap when I look into the mirror. Big mistake. I'm an absolute mess. (Once upon a time I would have suggested that I look like death warmed up, but in this reality…it's a bit more believable.) I have dust and dirt all over myself and my hair looks like it hasn't been brushed in…well…ever. I've lost my hair-tie somewhere along the way, so the chocolate tresses of my hair fall messily over my shoulders and surround my face, giving off the classic 'primitive' look that I'm sure is *not* in this season…or any season to tell the truth. I have dark circles under my eyes and my clothes are in need of some serious washing and ironing. The sweat pants are probably the neatest/cleanest thing I'm wearing at the moment and they are *covered* in dirt. No joke.

Well…It looks like I'm gonna have that nice, relaxing bath after all.

I tug my sneakers and socks off and toss them to the side as I enter the bathroom. Next, I yank off the shirt and adjust the taps to a nice hot temperature. I let the bath fill as I walk back into the bedroom in my sweat pants and bra to gather my change of clothes. I'm halfway across the room on my way back that I notice that something's wrong.

The hairs on the back of my neck rise on instinct and I turn back to face the bed. Nothing there. I'm telling myself that I'm just edgy and that I'm overreacting when I notice the proof that says otherwise. I freeze. There is a definite ditch in the covers of the bed. A human-shaped ditch. (Not that the human shape means anything in this reality.) One that definitely wasn't there when I was in this room a few minutes ago.

I start to back away slowly and find myself backing straight into the owner of said ditch. I start to squeal in surprise, but find that their hand is clamped tightly over my mouth. I look into the mirror to see my attacker but (surprise-surprise) she has no reflection.

But, the second she opens her mouth I know who she is, and it fills me with a feeling of helplessness. If it were any other vampire I might have a chance…but this…This isn't good.

"Naughty li'l girl doesn't belong here." She drawls in her insane singsong cockney accent. "Mummy doesn't like naughty li'l girls that don't belong. Isn't that right Miss Edith?"

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A/N (again)- okay. Pretty pathetic ending to this one, I know. See…this is what happens when I run out of inspiration…I pull a character (one that I can't write, no less) out of a hat and try to work them into the fic. Actually…that's really what I did. I put every single character I could think of from either show onto paper and threw them into a hat, then drew out a name. I know… I use weird tactics… and somehow, I think this fic is starting to go down hill a little. I mean…I really don't think I got anywhere in this chapter, and I'm sorry for that. Explanation- I guess I just needed to set up the Wes/Angel(ita) relationship a bit more…hence the fluffy talk. Umm…there were a few other things I wanted to do with this chapter that I think I got through okay…so all in all I'm just waiting for your reviews. Ta.