Sunnydale, California
Emma clutched at the shoulder belt in terror. This man was the worst driver she had ever had the displeasure of riding with. He never signaled, or stopped at stop signs, or obeyed any traffic laws at all.
"What are you doing in the States?" He asked casually.
"I could ask you the same question." She retorted primly.
"You don't want to know the answer."
"Neither do you."
"Alright then. Do you have a name, Little Miss Sticks Out Like A Sore Thumb?"
"Emma."
He swerved to avoid a cat. Not altogether successfully. Emma winced at the angry squeal she heard from under the tires.
"They call me Spike. I know the bloke you're look'n for, I can take ya right to'm."
"Much appreciated."
"Least I can do for a countrywoman. This town's not safe after dark."
He parked in front of a complex of Spainish style apartment buildings.
"Sorry, I can't walk you to the door." Spike said. "I'll wait til' you get inside, in case he's not home."
"Thank you very much for the ride." Said Emma, for some reason feeling herself starting to blush. He was very handsome, but with a hint of danger and excitment. Just the sort of boy she had always been ordered to stay away from. There was probably something horribly wrong with him.
******
"Mr. Rupert Giles?"
Giles peered at the small person addressing him. He'd just been woken up from a sound sleep.
"Don't tell me. You're Buffy's new watcher."
She blinked at him, then straightened her mouth into a serious, no nonsense frown.
"I hardly think so, Mr. Giles." Her speech was bizzarely formal for someone who looked about 17. She was willowy, dark haired and wearing a public school uniform. Quite beautiful, with huge blue eyes.
*Um - Miss, You're about 25 years too late.* He almost said. But by the way she was glaring at him, it was obviously not the erotic fantasy fairy coming to call.
"May I help you, Miss -?"
"Emma Wyndham-Pryce. And I need your assistance." She marched past him, into the flat and sat down on his couch. He closed the door and followed her.
"Mr. Giles, I'm running for my life and I need you to tell me where I can locate my brother."
Giles blinked.
"Well - er - Wesley left Sunnydale a year and a half ago. I believe he lives in Los Angeles now."
"Would you allow me to use your phone to book a seat on the bus?"
"Y-Yes, of course, go ahead."
******
15 miles outside of Galway, Ireland
"I am not lost!" Angel snapped.
"You are such a man! Why can't you admit that you have no idea where you're going?" said Darla, waving the map at him. "It says we go left at the fork!"
"Why can't you trust me for once? I did live in Ireland for 26 years."
"Yes, 247 years ago. Things change."
"This is Ireland, things never change."
"Angel, sweetheart, you're speeding."
Angel slowed the car down. It was a pretty red convertible, rented in a town about 100 miles away from their destination. That was the good thing about having a private plane, it could drop you anywhere you wanted it to.
"Happy now?"
"Now that we're not going to get a traffic ticket, yeah." She pointed excitedly. "Oooh - I see the sign! - No - wrong sign. You're gonna have to turn around and go back the other way."
"Fine." Angel grumbled. It was nightime, and they had the top down on the car. Darla leaned her head against the seat and looked up at the stars. The cool breeze gentley caressed the hair that hung loose around her shoulders.
"Dru would love this view." She murmured.
"Yeah." said Angel.
"Do you ever wish we could all be a family again? I mean, a not evil family?"
"It would be nice to have them sitting in the back seat." Angel agreed almost wistfully. "Arguing with William over what music to play on the stereo."
"Trying to ignore Dru's incessant rambling."
"Remember the time you threatened to 'turn this coach around and go back home if we all didn't stop yelling at each other'?"
"We were never good at long trips." said Darla.
******
London, England
"He's not here." Wesley said in dismay. "They must've gone to the country house for the week-end."
"You have a country house too?" Cordy tried to keep the awe out of her voice. They were standing in a spacious foyer, it was filled with antique furniture and old photographs of long dead family members.
"My father started using it more after Mum and Collin died. He grew to hate the city."
Cordelia guessed that there were other things Wesley's dad had started using more often - namely his fists and his paddle.
"My sister might be here. You'll like her." Wesley said absently.
"You have a sister?"
"Emma, age seveteen. Half sister. Dad remarried."
"Do they want her to be a Watcher too?"
"Yes, but I don't think it's something she wants. Not as if she has a choice, at least in Dad's eyes."
Go to Part 4
