Lorne brushed the heavy curtains aside and peered through the window into the oppressive evening. The rain sheeted so heavily that he had difficulty seeing the sidewalk that bordered the front yard, much less the street beyond. Yes, ominous undertones rang loud and clear despite the clamorous thunder that rumbled loudly enough to rattle the windowpanes.
"My goodness, I don't believe I've seen such a violent storm before."
He turned toward the elderly lady who sat perched on the edge of lush overstuffed chair, her eyes bright and locked on him in anticipation of their appointed reading. Mrs. Harding was, by far, his most frequent client as well as his most eccentric.
"Janice is bringing us a spot of tea to warm us up a bit. Nasty weather out there tonight, isn't it?"
"You said it, sugar cake. I hope my friends don't go and forget all their good sense and try to go out into it." He shook the thoughts from his head and flashed a bright smile at the elderly lady. "Now what did you have in mind for today's reading, honey? Another glimpse into that torrid affair you've been thinking of having with Mr. Carney at the bridge club?"
Distracted by her twittering blush, Mrs. Harding never noticed the heavy worry that settled in Lorne's eyes.
** *** **
Fred grinned across the table as Gunn spun spaghetti on his fork. Her rapt attention paused his fork half way to his mouth.
"What?"
She blushed and lifted her own fork. "Oh, it's nothing, it's silly."
"Come on now," he urged. "What's goin' on in that brain o' yours?" He chewed slowly, waiting for Fred to speak.
"Well, when I was a little girl, I used to love Lady and the Tramp…"
Gunn smiled. "Spaghetti dinner by candle light." He eyed his nearly empty plate and speared the last meatball, making a beeline for Fred's mouth.
** *** **
The truck navigated the waterlogged streets with little problem and rolled to a soggy stop in front of the Hyperion. Dashing out the door and toward the hotel's front entrance, Fred's eye was drawn to a familiar vehicle parked further along the street. She tugged at the sleeve of Gunn's jacket and slowed to a stop despite the stinging rain.
"If Wesley's still here, why didn't he answer the phone?" she asked, raising her voice to be heard above the pitch of the storm.
Gunn shrugged, ready to write off their unanswered calls to the distraction of the storm when another frighteningly close flash of lightning blinded them both.
Fred stood in the pouring rain, rushing water tugging at her ankles as she tried to rid her eyes of the aftereffects of the bright flash of light when she realized she was suddenly alone on the sidewalk.
"Charles?" She spun her head around, forcing her eyes to stay open despite the biting raindrops.
He was gone. With sheer panic egging her on, Fred dashed up the steps of the Hyperion and threw open the door. The floor was dry. No tell-tale footprints marred the gleaming tiles.
"Charles!" Her voice echoed in the cavernous room but no reply was forthcoming. "Wesley!"
Returning to the sidewalk, she jumped as another deafening crack of thunder crashed overhead. It had been a long time since she had been afraid of storms but she could feel the old emotion returning with a vengeance.
Wesley's car appeared to be empty and as she neared it she saw a set of keys laying in the street among the leaves and debris the rain water sent rushing along the pavement. She clutched them in her hand, her tight grip causing the metal to dig into the soft flesh of her palm.
She was alone again, just like she had been in Pylea.
** *** **
"I'm sure they're fine."
Cordelia cut her eyes at Angel and flicked wet hair out of her face. He had put up a valiant fight against returning to the hotel, but as always, she had won in the end.
When they did finally makle it back, they had found Gunn's truck and Wesley's SUV parked nearby but Cordelia's nerves wouldn't be calmed down until she could see her friends with her own two eyes.
The lobby was dark when they entered and Cordelia wondered if the building's old wiring was to blame more so than the storm until she spied her computer monitor glowing dimly on her desk. Sweeping her eyes across the room, she tried vainly to see into the dusky shadows for some sign of life.
"See?"
Cordelia jumped at the sound of Angel's voice. Her eyes followed his hand to the soggy footprints that led from the front door across the lobby and to the stairwell.
"I told you they were fine."
She glowered. "Three missing people, two empty cars, and a single set of footprints does not make for a happy ending, Angel."
"Maybe Gunn carried Fred inside," he offered feebly.
"Not unless he's started borrowing Fred's shoes." She pointed to a clear print with her toe. "Heels."
"Fred!"
Angel took the stairs two at a time in his haste to locate the young woman, leaving Cordelia to slowly maneuver the steps in his wake. He slowed his steps as he neared the door to her room and forced his hand to open the door slowly.
"Oh my god…"
He hadn't heard Cordelia join him as he stood transfixed in the doorway to Fred's bedroom.
The walls, recently painted, were covered with more mathematical equations and highly complex formulas. In the midst of it all stood Fred, a magic marker clutched in her fist as she struggled to complete what she had begun.
"Fred? Fred, where are Gunn and Wes?"
Angel glanced at Cordelia, noting the same worry that lay in the depths of her eyes.
"Gone… gone… all gone…"
The hushed words filled the room, their repetition grating against the senses as Fred moved the tip of the marker back to the cream colored wall.
to be continued at a later date…