Part 5


"Do Not Touch Her." Angel snarled.

Hamilton laughed and shoved back.

"Then stop me."

Angel picked him up and threw him against the side of a building.

"Okay." He said.

"Angel! Look out!" Darla yelled as a vampire flung himself at her. She hit him with her umbrella, driving the wooden handle through his heart. The demons rushed them, there had to be about six in all.

"This just goes to show-" Punch, kick, stab. "That you can't go home again." panted Angel.

"No kidding." said Darla as she beat a vampire about the head with her umbrella.

"Probably wouldn't be a good idea to hang around anymore." said Angel. "I don't think we're welcome here."

Sirens blared in the distance.

"Cops!" Someone shouted.

The demons started running, Angel and Darla shook their human faces back into place as a policeman approached.

"What's going on here? " The officer demanded.

"We - we - Those guys tried to rob us!" Darla wept, it was an amazing performance. The cop didn't look like he quite believed her, but there was something about Darla that made you want to believe she was telling the truth, even when you were sure she wasn't. And she was a beautiful, blonde, american tourist out for a romantic stroll with her boyfriend. So it had to be just a trick of the eyes that he had seen her a moment ago, vigarously whacking someone with an umbrella.

"We're alright, Constable." said Angel. "We'll be going back to our hotel now."

******

A figure waited for them in their hotel room. A shortish, stout man in a leather jacket, who brandished a crossbow.

"I've finally found you - Angleus. " He said.

"Smith. " said Angel. "Darla, get the bags. I think I left the car unlocked."

"Who is this jerk?"

"He's a Special Ops Watcher, who is under the impression that I'm evil."

"Ooooh, So he's come here to kill you?"

"Yup."

"Well, he's pretty dumb then, isn't he?"

"I think you might be right, Honey."

"On three?" Darla asked. Smith looked confused, and lowered his crossbow briefly.

"On three. One. Two."

"Three." Angel and Darla both leaped for the window at the same time, and crashed through it. They sailed through the air and landed amongst piles of broken glass on the sidewalk. It was still pouring rain, so they had a chance of getting to the car without bursting into flames. Angel dove inside and slid his keys into the ignition. Hamilton's vamps were gathering at the end of the street - blocking the path of the convertible.

"I don't think they're going to move." Darla worried.

Angel smiled coldly.

"Well, then. We'll just have to run them down."

"Are you serious?" Darla asked, incredulous and pleasantly suprised.

"You bet."

"That's my boy!" She laughed as Angel slowly put his foot to the gas pedal. The expressions on the other vampires' faces said that they didn't believe he'd actually do it. Darla knew better, and so did Hamilton - who turned pale.

Angel accelerated. 20, 30, 40, 50, 60, 70, 80, 85, 90. To their credit, the demons didn't run. Even as the small red car plowed into them and kept going, leaving a wake of bodies behind it. Darla climbed up on her seat to get a better look at the carnage.

"The more things change, the more they stay the same. " She remarked.

"How do you mean?"

"The last time we were here - we left a pile of bloody bodies in our wake - only they were human and we galloped away in a cart."

"I see your point."

******

Wesley turned down the long, tree lined driveway of his family's country home. Cordelia watched as the flowering trees zipped past the window of their rented car. She thought she saw a horse grazing in a field, on the other side of a fence. Horses. She used to have a horse - Keanu the palamino. She remembered what it was like to summer in Europe, in houses like this one. A small, grey haired man met the car as Wesley pulled it into the circular driveway.

"Good to see you home, Sir."

"Good to see you again, Rogers."

"I'll bring the car in, Sir."

"Thank you." Wesley removed his and Cordy's suitcases from the trunk. Or the "boot" Cordy thought proudly, pleased with her ever expanding British vocabulary. She followed Wesley inside the house, as another servant, this time a maid - took their bags upstairs.

"If you don't mind my asking, Sir -" Said Rogers, who had returned from parking the car. "Didn't your father ask that you not -"

"I have urgent matters to discuss with my father -" Gravel crunched in the driveway, a car had arrived. Wesley turned a little paler.

"Then you're just in time." said Rogers. He hurried to open the door. A tall, dark haired, solidly built man entered, followed by a willowy woman in a sharp traveling suit. She swept over to Wes and planted emotionless kisses on both cheeks.

"Dear."

"Lauren."

Wesley's dad walked past him. Dissapointment showed clearly on Wesley's face.

"I told you not to return home unless I gave permission." said Mr. Wyndham-Pryce.

"I have something I-I need to discuss with you."

"After dinner." Lauren said in a falsely cheerful voice. "And why haven't you introduced us to your lady friend?"

"I don't approve of you bringing guests home without informing us first." Wesley's father grumbled.

"Dad, Lauren - This is Cordelia Chase, we work together."

Lauren gave her a fake smile.

"She's lovely. And such an interesting ensemble - Wherever did you find it?"

******

"I was practicing spells in my room at school-When I first thought about it." Emma explained to Gunn.

"Practicing Spells." He repeated.

"Daddy wanted me to be ahead, when I entered the academy next year. Anyway, I started to think, Why am I sitting in my room learning how to levitate a pencil when I could be out playing field hockey or swimming or god forbid - shopping. And of course, I'm not allowed to tell anyone why I spend so much time in my room - or why the hell I'm on the fencing team."

"Fencing team."

"The Fencing Team. How uncool can you get?"

"I'd say that's pretty dorky." said a loud, strident voice. They both turned around. A shortish, thin girl with curly brown hair stood in the doorway of the lobby.

"Faith." Emma gave a ladylike snarl. Faith saunterd in, tossing her duffle bag onto one of the couches.

"Who's Faith?" Gunn asked, getting more and more confused every minute./P>

"You hurt my brother." Emma stared at her with a mixture of anger and terror and awe.

"Who the hell are you?"

"Shouldn't you be in jail?" Emma countered. "I'm Wesley's sister, Emma."

"Oh. Gee. Um." Faith looked a tiny bit freaked out. "Out on good behavior."

"But who are you?" Gunn still wanted to know.

"Faith. The Slayer."

"What's a Slayer?"

******

Cordelia thought Mrs. Wyndham-Pryce was the phoniest woman she'd met outside of Hollywood. Dinner conversation was stilted-and evryone seemed relieved when the last plate was cleared from the table.

"I'll see you in my study now." Mr. Wyndham-Pryce said stiffly. Wesley followed him out of the room.

"You've dissapointed your family, broken your vows, and now you are disobeying direct orders?"

"I-"

His father closed the study door and moved to sit behind his desk.

"This is far from like you."

"I-I came b-because I have s-something to give you, Sir."

"Well. Where is it then?"

"Um - A-As you know, Colin was killed in Los Angeles - some very k-kind people, friends of mine - gathered up his ashes f-for us." He handed the small urn to his father.

"Thank you. " His father said quietly. Then he was back to business. "Now there is the matter of your sister to consider. Have you seen or spoken with her?"

"No, Sir." Wesley lied.


Go to Part 6