Hello people!

I know, this seemed to take a while, didn't it! But I'm here, with a new chapter and continuation of our very confusing story.

This here, is my favourite chapter that I've written so far! Enjoy!

Where do we go from here: ANDREW AND CONNER

Conner sat silently in the corner. He rested his chin in his hands and his elbows on his knees on a large wooden crate that had been abandoned in the warehouse. It was the next morning and the sun was just shifting through the dusty, murky windows up high. He remained silent but he stared at the boy that he had kidnapped the night before. He had been so pathetic, not particularly strong and there was nothing remarkably special about him…except for the fact that he had carried this old looking knife and Cordelia was very insistent that it should be him that he took.

Conner listened to the argument between Cordelia and the First. She had no idea who this person was, masquerading as a little Irish man but whatever it was, his Cordelia had important business with him.

"You see, it works both ways for us, darlin'," the Irish man was saying. "You get your sacrifice for yourself. The blood of one for your little self. And I get the one that I want dead. He needs to die. He could completely destroy our plans and then where would our partnership be."

Cordelia turned around and looked at the boy. "It doesn't matter what kind of person it is, but the blood has to be from someone innocent. And I smell sin and guilt all over him. He's not innocent."

"So he took part in a little murder and was temporarily a "super villain." He's reformed. He's still innocent in the eyes of this battle. He's weak, he's pathetic but his blood will make you strong."

Cordelia shook her head. "It's not good enough. It wouldn't work. I need to find the blood of someone innocent soon, if I wish to become strong. And what about you. How do you plan to make yourself useful."

The little Irish person smiled slightly and leaned back with his hands in his pockets. "Oh, my plans take a little longer than the bloodshed of one. I need the bloodshed of thousands, rituals that are taking place this instance. I thrive on its energy. When the time comes, I shall defeat the slayer before I reach peak strength and break into the world. It wouldn't matter who was innocent and who wasn't."

Cordelia looked away from Andrew. "I suppose not. Either way he's not good to me. You may as well kill him yourself."

The Irish man shook his head. He moved forward and put a hand towards Cordelia's face as if to touch her lightly. It took Conner ever ounce of strength not to jump out. But he watched as the hand passed right through Cordelia. She remained unnerved.

"If I could have killed him myself," he whispered, "I would have done it a long time ago, now, wouldn't I? You are my ally. I rely on you as much as you rely on me now. I shall find you the blood of the innocent and you can send your little boy over there to go and collect whoever it is. But I require you to dispose of that boy, Andrew, there. Then find that knife, and give it to me."

Cordelia smiled. "You know what, I think we might just about have an understanding here. Here's to the benefit of our partnership. Let's hope it continues."

"Never better spoke, darlin," the Irish man said, before disappearing.

Now that he had gone, Conner stood up. He walked up to Cordelia. "Who was that?" he asked, nodding to the wall where the Irish man was once standing.

"He was an old friend…he used to work for us. He changed a bit." Cordelia looked at Conner who was about to ask another question but she shushed him. "Shh. Now's not the time to answer questions. The baby will be coming soon and preparations must be made. This is not going to be any ordinary baby. I'm going into the other room." She looked at Andrew. "Will you do something about that?"

"Why?"

Cordelia held up her hands. "Blood splatter, eew." She walked off into the other room, smiling.

Conner was left alone. He looked down at the figure of Andrew, still lying on the ground where they had left him. Conner didn't have the heart to tie his hands or feet so he had just left him on the ground. Conner looked at the knife in his hands and put it into his own waistbands. He knelt down to Andrew.

He had barely touched his shoulder before Andrew stirred slightly and opened his eyes. He jumped away, backing up and breathing heavily. He looked straight at Conner. Conner could see that Andrew was afraid but that his fear was giving him a slight hysterical edge as well—enough to make him confident and defiant. "What's going on?" he demanded angrily. "Who—Who are you?"

"I'm Conner."

Andrew was silent for a moment. He took a deep breath. "I need to go. I—I can't stay here." Conner pushed him back down lightly. Andrew wrenched his hand away. "Don't touch me! You can't keep me here. It's here! And if it's here then I can't be here."

"I have to."

Andrew shook his head and took another deep breath. "I can't stay. You heard it. It wants to kill me. I can't stay. Please let me go."

"What wants to kill you?"

Andrew looked around. "That thing. It was talking to that woman. I pretended I was asleep. If it knew I heard, it would make her kill me then."

Conner frowned. "What, the little Irish guy. Cordelia's old friend?"

Andrew shook his head wearily and looked at the ground. "That friend, whoever he was, is dead. It's the First. It takes over the forms of dead people, masquerades them and manipulates you to do your work for them."

Conner got up angrily. "Cordy wouldn't work for anything evil. It wasn't manipulating her. It sounds more like they were making a deal."

Andrew nodded. "I know." He looked away from Conner and where Cordelia had gone. "Don't hit me again…but who was she? She looks really scary. Doesn't she seem…almost creepy to you."

Conner just glared down at Andrew but he didn't sound confident. "No."

Andrew raised an eyebrow. Then he stood up. "I don't care what you say. I'm—I'm getting out of here and you won't stop me this time. I'm not going to be killed by the First. I came away from Sunnydale for that reason. Buffy can't find out where I am…"

Conner paused. "You come from Sunnydale?"

"Well…yeah." Andrew narrowed his eyes. "Why?"

"The Slayer…"

"Oh you know about her being the Slayer too, huh? Well, yeah, she's fighting the First and I can't stand it. It's constantly using me. I came here to get away from it. It came in not long ago pretending to be Angel, her former love."

"Angel?" Conner said and stood up. There was silence for a moment. Even though Andrew had said he was going to run he didn't know if he was up for it. His head was killing him from the knock Conner had given him and he was too worried that Conner would attempt something at him again. Conner seemed like an incredibly distant and confused person—like him.

"Angel's…"

"Your father," Andrew said and he immediately clamped his mouth closed.

Conner whirled round. "How did you know that?"

Andrew's mouth opened and then he closed again. He backed away towards the wall. "I—I didn't."

"You must have done."

"I swear, man, I didn't know. It just kind of came out. If I'd known you were Angel's son, I would have said it long ago." Andrew turned on the spot in a circle. "I have to go, I really have to go. The First is here. It's going to kill me, it wants to. Or it'll use me against Angel and Buffy. It said they were all going to die."

Conner frowned. "Die?" Andrew nodded. "They can't die. They have too many forces with them. I can smell it all over them. Vampires and the Powers all working for them and against me and Cordy. We're going to have a baby and if they find out, they'll kill it. I can't let them do that."

Andrew frowned. He looked around the warehouse. "You're not going to let me go, are you?"

Conner looked at the ground. "I can't," he said despairingly.

"You—you don't want to kill me…do you?"

Conner looked back at him. "I can't do that either."

Andrew let out a small sigh of relief. "So—erm—Angel's son. Heard about you. You're like big and all…" Conner was silent. "Well, if you're not going to kill and you don't want to let me go, how 'bout we just talk. I'm sure…we could find lots of stuff to talk about."

*  *  *  *  *

Gunn woke up first that morning. He turned around and looked at the ceiling and then beside him on the bed. Sighing in disappointment, he got up. Every day, he woke up, hoping that what had happened over the months had been just one long nightmare. He still had his Fred to wake up to every morning, there was no apocalypse and there will was one big happy family. Every morning he was disappointed and his heart sank but not enough to stop fighting for it.

He went downstairs in the hope for something new and interesting. The hotel was still standing. Most of the earthquakes remnants had been swept away by Willow and Lindsey.

No one seemed to be in the lobby. It was strangely quiet. He assumed that at six o'clock in the morning everyone was asleep. Each person occupied a room within the hotel. Faith had returned with Wesley to his apartment. But going downstairs, Gunn could hear the rustling of papers coming from within the office. He went in, looking at Angel, still seated behind a desk.

"You're not really going for the typical vampire stereotype, are you?" he said. "You know, coming out at night, sleeping in the day."

"No time for those kind of pleasantries," Angel murmured, busily shuffling papers aside. "Have you found out where Karl is?"

Gunn looked around and frowned in confusion. "Err, no. Last I knew, Lorne was checking on that. He hasn't been back since last night."

Angel slammed his hands down. "Damnit," he yelled.

"Whoa, Angel, chill out," Gunn said forcefully. "I know it's the end of the world. You're stressed but you ain't the only one. Everyone here is edging and on a thread. But you have to deal with it. We know something's coming but if Big Bad Evil wants a surprise it's not gonna come to LA flashing its neon lights."

Angel leaned down on his fists on the table. "I know. It's just, I have everyone here and in less than five days, my son is supposed to die—again. I have no idea where he is. I don't know about Cordy—" He paused and sat back down. "What else can we do till Lorne gets here?"

Gunn smiled. "Well, there's some good news. The Power's back on."

As soon as he said that, the phone line rang making both of them jump. Angel picked it up quickly from the lobby. "Angel Investigations," he said quickly. He wondered in the back of his mind why he still said that. They were hardly an investigation team anymore. He whirled round. "Buffy," he said in amazement. "Hi."

Gunn watched from the doorway of the office to the conversation or as much as he could. Angel seemed almost thrilled that Buffy called, especially since the Spike incident. They didn't talk for very long though and from Angel's expression, it seemed that it wasn't much of a social call. When was it ever? Angel smiled slightly at the end. "I do too." He put the phone down quietly and stood in deep thought. "We have someone else to look for."

*  *  *  *  *

"No sign of him?" Giles said, putting his glasses on to look at a book.

Dawn shook her head. "No. Buffy and I looked everywhere. He's in no particular place of Sunnydale. He's literally vanished. Buffy thinks he ran away—for real. As in, he left Sunnydale to go somewhere else." She sat quietly for a moment. "Buffy called Angel in Los Angeles."

Giles raised his eyebrows. "Oh? And?"

"I don't think they have him. But Angel says he's going to keep looking apparently."

Giles let out a low hum. "Well, if Angel is dealing with things that need Willow and Spike there I doubt they'll have the time to…" he paused and cleared his throat. "He will be found, Dawn. He can't hide forever. He doesn't possess enough knowledge or skill."

"It's just that stuff that'll get him killed."

Giles turned round to look at her. "You care for his well being all of a sudden."

Dawn folded her arms. "I care. I have a right to care," she said indignantly. But then she looked worried again. "It's just…you didn't see him, Giles. He looked so scared and frightened. He'd really almost—you know—lost his mind. He wasn't scared about the First or dying because of it. He was scared about himself and how the First controlled him to get to everyone else. He was hurting."

Giles lowered his eyes. "I guess none of us really knew how much," he said quietly. "They'll find him, Willow. I have every faith in Angel and Buffy."

Dawn looked out of the window. "I hope so."

*  *  *  *  *

Andrew sat back on his heels and rocked back and forth a few times. He smiled faintly. "No, I wasn't very good with weapons. I can't sword fight. Can't do hand to hand. All I tried from Jet Li movies always meant I broke my arm or leg or something. I couldn't even use the freeze gun properly. I can do the joystick!"

Conner raised his eyebrows. He was practising his sword fighting in the warehouse. Andrew watched as he expertly manoeuvred it in his hands. He didn't even attempt to ask anything. "Freeze Gun?" Conner asked, laughing slightly.

Andrew laughed back. "Yeah, it was cool. We froze this security guard. It was all Warren's…" he stopped for a moment.

Conner noticed how he stopped in mid-sentence. His hesitated on his sword thrust and then put his sword down. He noticed how every time Andrew mentioned Jonathan or Warren, he felt distinctly depressed again. Andrew had told him what had happened—briefly—but Conner sensed there was more to it. "Does it always hurt to mention their name? Or see them?"

Andrew poked a stick into the ground. He didn't say anything for a moment. "Sometimes. It depends what I'm thinking about."

Conner frowned, puzzled.

"Well…it was fun. I wasn't really much of a super villain. In fact, I was a bit useless. Warren was the real genius. And Jonathan…Jonathan was just the cutest little thing. He couldn't hurt anybody. We really were a pathetic team but it was fun. We kicked ass on the slayer—" he looked down. "Then she kicked ass back on us."

"Do you miss them?" Conner asked sincerely.

Andrew shrugged. "I dunno. I miss Jonathan. He was my best friend. And I was so blind and stupid. I let the First trick me into killing him." He sniffed slightly. "I knew it couldn't be Warren but I was so sure and he made me do it. I still have nightmares of watching him dying. And all I did was stand around just watching."

Conner shivered slightly inside himself. He'd never had to kill anyone he loved before. So he would kill his father but there was no bond between them. Could he kill Cordelia? Would he in order to save mankind? He didn't know if he could do it. Obviously, Andrew had been so twisted by the First, enough to make him kill his best friend.

"When Warren and Jonathan come to me now—or when the First comes to me—I get scared. I don't want to kill people now. I'm—I'm a reformed super villain. I use my powers for good. Not that I actually own any powers, or brains…"

"There must be something. A quality."

Andrew shrugged. "I can translate a few languages. Like on that…" Andrew paused. "Hey, where is my knife?" There was a pause. "Where is it? You stole it from me!"

Conner held up the sword. "I can't give it back to you."

"You have to! It's mine. I'm like—the guardian, or the keeper. Of the knife. It belongs to me!"

"What's so special about it? There are better weapons than this." Conner held up the knife.

Andrew shook his head. "It's connected to the First. It can't have it. I have to keep the knife away from the seal that opens to the Hellmouth. If I don't—I don't even know what damage it would do." Andrew stood up and glared at Conner as much as he could. He didn't know how threatening he was being. Conner didn't look like the type of person to be unnerved easily. "Besides," he continued. "I killed Jonathan with that knife."

Conner stared down at it but keeping his sword pointed towards Andrew. "You killed your best friend with this." Andrew nodded. There was another tense moment of silence. Andrew thought he should say something. The atmosphere was getting unbearable and his desperation made his breath harder. Finally, though, Conner threw it onto the floor in front of his feet. "I don't have anything to do with saving the world. You can if you want to."

Andrew picked up his knife but didn't stop looking at Conner. The other boy had turned and was now walking to you. "What happened to you? You like, have no humour—no, nothing about you. It's all so…tortured and depressing."

Conner put his sword back. "It's a long and complicated story."

Andrew shrugged. "I'm not going anywhere—unless you decide to let me go."

Conner turned around. "I grew up in a hell dimension. Apparently, I was taken away at birth by someone who I thought was my father. I grew up around the worst looking creatures, in the most horrible environment but I got used to it. It makes you stronger, more of the hunter and the catcher. Here…it's just as bad. Only other conflicts get in the way."

"Like?"

"Angel."

Andrew nodded slowly. "Oh. So I'm guessing you don't like Angel. It's just, you kind of said it in a weird way."

"They don't like me. None of them like me. They look at me and think of a teenager who knows nothing. I know more than them put together. They don't know what a hell life is like!" He kicked out at a wooden box, sending it crashing into a wall where it smashed into pieces. Andrew flinched. "My only love in this world is Cordelia. And they don't even want me to have her."

"Family's a pain," Andrew said. "I had a brother—Tucker—don't know where he is now. He summoned demons."

Conner turned towards him. "I think this is a bit different. Cordelia is what I love. She has our baby. That means something now. And I'll do anything to give Cordy and the baby what they need. Even if it means killing."

Andrew swallowed. "Cordelia's evil."

Conner just narrowed his eyes. "And how would you know?"

Andrew shrugged. "I—I don't know how. It's just that same feeling I get when I knew that Angel was your father. It's strange. But Cordelia is evil. She's working for the First."

"I don't even understand what this First is!" Conner shouted.

The door to the warehouse suddenly opened and Cordelia walked through. Andrew instinctually took a step back. This time, getting out his knife didn't even register to his brain. He didn't know how—it was like a sixth sense was telling him that something about her was wrong. Conner, though, just smiled as she walked through. "Are you all right?" he asked.

Cordelia looked at Andrew. "I thought I told you to kill him?"

Conner looked at Andrew this time. "I…I tried, Cordy. I did. And you'd know I'd do anything that the baby needed. But I can't do it. Something's holding me back."

Cordelia narrowed her eyes. Her fists clenched behind her back and Andrew stepped back again. "I agreed that he had to die. He needs to Conner. It's the only way that this will work. A brand new partnership. All this is needed to make our life perfect."

Conner turned to looked at Andrew, as though he had a new sensation. The look that Andrew saw in Conner's eyes made him think that he would actually kill him this time. He then drew back his sword but it never came down. It hovered in mid-air and his eyes dropped down. "I can't."

Cordelia sighed. "Cold. Feet," she said sharply. "Fine, then, I'll just have to do it." She grabbed Conner's sword and grabbed Andrew by his shirt bringing him forward. Andrew cried out and struggled but then became too scared to move. Cordelia had her had round his throat now, preparing to drive the sword right through his heart.

Then she stopped as well. The hand around his neck unclenched and moved to his face, grabbing his face and moving forwards. Andrew opened his eyes. Conner could see the terror imbedded in them. Frightened whimpers came from him and his body trembled all over.

He was so frightened, he could not even offer a plea.

All he could do was look at Cordelia and pray that his eyes could do all the talking. He waited for the sword to come through. He couldn't believe he had run all this way from Sunnydale to be killed. The knife would be lost and the First, in partnership with Cordelia, an evil, would wreak havoc. He couldn't tell anyone. Only Conner had an inkling about his theory and he wouldn't turn his back on Cordelia.

Cordy's mouth dropped open for a second and she let go of Andrew. He fell to the floor and didn't move. Cordelia knelt down beside him and her voice, although a whisper, seemed to echo around the warehouse. "You're a seer."

Ooo, Tariq, you read my mind with the whole Andrew thing, did you! Well done :-)

More coming soon. I'm on holiday so I'll be updating from internet cafes and hotels (if they have internet, lolol)

Thanks to all the review, keep them up, I appreciate it. Keeps me through the writers block!