****
There is a design – hidden in the chaos as it may be. But it's there. And
you have your place in it.
–To Shanshu in L.A.
Chapter Two: "In With The New"
****
What were the odds of two slayers walking into a multi-national, million- dollar law company that was until recently fully charged by evil without being noticed?
Buffy figured they were soon to find out as the doors of the elevator opened swiftly, and they were faced with the bustling, inner sanctum of the new and in no way modestly improved W&H complex.
Lawyers in conservative, slick suits ranging from Armani to Versace bustled about as if in constant flight, many with cell-phones permanently attached to their ears, and briefcases melded to their palms. The entire enclosure was completely open, with bright light filtering in from above by a row of neatly spaced skylights she wondered at their appropriateness in a firm fully operated by a vampire.
She dropped back, allowing Faith to lead the way to the main desk. This was her idea after all. Let her deal with the technicalities.
Their only lucky break seemed to be that everyone was far too busy in his or her own business to concentrate on the newly entered pair of vampire slayers to their turf.
Buffy felt burly, tough fingers pinch into the flesh of her shoulder as a large hand closed over her.
Famous last words.
"Excuse me, m'am".
Buffy reluctantly turned; realising Faith had already disappeared into the crowd.
She was faced with an impressively built security guard, fitted with more than your standard armour wear, including a sharply wielded stake and a long, imposing tazer blaster. That maybe concerned her a little bit.
"I'm going to have to ask you to leave, miss."
Buffy's hand flew to rest on her hip. "Got a reason to go along with that, pal?" she asked sourly, pretty good idea in mind. "I don't like jumping through hoops".
"Your entry into this establishment is breaching several security codes", he said tightly, hand already flexing over his utility belt like he expected her to be trouble. He also held a radio that with the press of a button could bring along many more of his tazer-equipped buddies. "Its standard procedure. We don't allow vampire slayers access on the premises unless under special instruction. So if you would be as to so kind..."
"Right. I forgot, not currently evil", Buffy replied, crossing her arms stubbornly. She could see shapes flocking over in the corners of her eyes, but didn't twitch as she continued to speak. "Well, you'll excuse me for being so *rude*, but do you think you could explain to your little lackeys behind me that I happen to know your big boss upstairs?"
His gaze didn't flicker either; apparently he hadn't been clued in on this little factoid, and wasn't buying into her explanation. Hey, at least this time it was *true*.
"Like I said, we have no previous instructions to admit a slayer access. It would be best for everyone if you could leave without any trouble, don't you agree?"
Even as he said this, she could see the imperceptible movement of his eyes as he instructed guards behind her into position. Buffy really wanted to punch him. Maybe whacking on one of Angel's employees would convince Faith she *really* didn't want to be here.
"Hey, man, what's the problem here?" another, and much more lighter voice piped up at her elbow. Buffy turned just as a handsome young black man came to a stop beside them, obviously assessing a potentially dangerous situation when he saw one.
The security guard turned to him with a look of exasperation, and waved a hand in her direction. "This *woman*", he said distastefully, "Is breaching security code just by being here".
The black man cocked an eyebrow, eyeing her with newfound curiosity. He looked different to the many other stylishly dressed lawyers around him. Much more at ease, but the same time with an alertness that let her know he was not entirely in his element. For some odd reason it made her trust him. Or slightly more than this burly Captain America, anyway.
"That right? And how exactly has the lady done that?"
Buffy sighed, eyes scanning the perimeter for Faith. Where had the girl disappeared off to?
"Vampire slayer", she replied vaguely, pointing to herself. She smiled sweetly at the guard. "Though I think that's just a cover up because he doesn't like me".
The man seemed to straighten almost immediately. "You're a slayer?" He scratched his bald scalp. "You wouldn't happen to go by the name Buffy, would you?"
Buffy frowned, turning so she was fully facing him, and effectively blocking the guard at the same time. "Not that I'm surprised you know my name – everyone seems to — but something tells me this goes deeper than that".
Just as he opened his mouth to respond, Faith's familiar voice spoke loudly behind them. "Jesus B, what you doing talking with the help? I'm still trying to get Miss Prissy behind the counter to believe I'm who I say I am, and when I introduced her to my invisible buddy Buffy, she got the idea in her head security was necessary. Seeing Angel these days is like booking a ticket into Michael. I'm seriously considering hiring him a new staff or somethin'".
She stopped when she noticed both the black man and security guard staring at her. Then her features twisted into a brash, white-toothed grin. "Chucky. Long time, no fight. How goes the hand-to-hand?"
"Faith", he replied, easing into a smile himself. "Nice to see ya." He waved at the guard. "It's okay. These girls are with the boss".
Buffy smirked at the guard, who looked pissed at being so easily dismissed. "Told you".
Gunn turned to glance between both of them, smile switching to a frown. "Hope he didn't give you too much trouble?" he directed at Buffy, as the guard disappeared.
Buffy shrugged. "I don't know. I think he was itching for someone to hit him."
Gunn shook his head, looking amused. "I'm Gunn, by the way."
Buffy nodded, accepting his outstretched hand. "Angel told me about you".
"You too. Guess you're here to see him, huh? Only explanation I can think for you showing up in our neck of the woods."
"Would be nice."
He nodded, hesitating. "I'll show you the way."
****
Gunn led the two vampire slayers through a labyrinth of corridors and up a few floors, furtively studying them as they followed in contemplative silence. He got the vibe that Buffy was less than happy to be there, but didn't comment on it.
Faith and Buffy were about as opposite as night and day, and he could barely see how they had something so ancient in common as their lineage. Faith was brazen, sultry, and tough, a fighter by no stretch of the imagination. Buffy, on the other hand, looked more suited to the delicate than slaying vampires. She had a tiny, fragile build, but when he looked into her eyes saw they held an undoubtable durability. She was beautiful, but not in the open, smouldering way Faith could claim.
There was something in her that screamed Angel's type.
They reached the floor of Angel's office, and Gunn nodded to his secretary, a smartly dressed young woman called Anita, who reminded him all too uncannily of Lilah Morgan – or maybe Lilah ten years younger, and still alive. Way he saw it; lawyer types were all the same. After his intense, insightful experience in the White Room, he had little contact with them, and that was fine by him.
It was probably lucky for Buffy and Faith he had come by on his way to an early lunch, the day he had changed from the third floor cafeteria to the second floor one, since they refused on serving burritos.
Still, he hesitated before he knocked on the wood grain door. Angel's mood had become more morose since they joined up with the evil law firm, though he wasn't entirely sure that was the reason for the vampire's attitude. They didn't see much of each other barring their fortnightly excursions, so he rarely had the opportunity to ask.
He peered inside, opening the door a few inches. The office was in gloom, which probably matched the vampire's mood, despite the special plated glass that allowed complete sunlight to filter in without it being an issue.
Angel sat behind the desk, going through some files, expression focused.
"Angel, man".
His voice was the first Angel realised he wasn't alone, and it worried Gunn that it had been so easy to sneak up on him. He'd seemed switched on the night they took out those prowlers, but something seemed to be hedging at him.
"Gunn, what is it?"
Gunn gestured to the girls to wait for a moment, and went further into the room.
"You got some uninvited company".
Angel's face scrunched up, and he frowned. "Can't you tell them they need an appointment? I'm kind of in the middle of..."
He never finished his sentence. The door opened the rest of the way, and he was confronted with the sight of two of the most significant women of his past, though each for different reasons obviously.
Faith smirked at him, arms folding casually across her chest.
"Love the way you prioritise, big guy".
Angel stared at them a moment, anxiously clearing his throat. "Faith", he murmured, not without a certain level of affection. A longer, more pregnant pause filled the room before he added, "Buffy."
"Hey Angel", she said softly, already cursing herself for allowing her eyes to meet his own. If she was a sucker for a cause, she was lost to those deep chocolate depths.
Baking, she reminded herself sternly. Part of the reason she was so against coming here. Spike was gone, and she was still cookie dough. Accent on the dough.
Faith's approach was much more blasé. "Hey man", she greeted, lobbying into the room as if completely missing the tension building between the ex- lovers. Gunn doubted anyone could be that blind.
"What's the what? I gotta tell you, you need to improve the welcoming committee downstairs, we had a whole mess of trouble getting in to see you. And seriously, what's with the appointment thing? What, are we running a reservation service?"
Angel looked slightly taken-aback. "You had trouble?"
"Security have a thing against slayers", Gunn filled in, moving toward the door. "Must be a standing policy. And unless you need me, I gotta jam. Late for an important line-up in the company cafeteria".
He gave them a wide, encompassing wave, and closed the door behind him, not anxious in the least to discover what news the slayers brought along with them.
Faith stretched, taking in the office appreciatively. "Like the leather interior you got going, Ange", she commented flippantly, circling slowly around the room. "Oh cool, is that an entertainment system?"
"Is something wrong?" Angel asked in concern, rising to his feet to stand on the opposite side of his desk.
"Nothing's wrong", Buffy assured him; since Faith was too busy surveying the television to be of much assistance. She noticed how much more at ease her sister slayer seemed around the soulful vampire, and found it annoyed her slightly.
Angel folded his arms, levelling her with an even gaze. "Well, there must be something, because you don't often drop by for social visits."
Oh, was there a point in there? Faith thought.
The brunette slayer smirked. "Can be arranged, honey. And since Buffy don't seem to be in any hurry, I'll cut us to the why. There's a whole mess of watchers headed Cali way, and we had a short little meeting with one of their reps flown over from mother England earlier. No matter how much effort Buffy put into her 'Get the Hell out of my country' speech which I think would have been much more effective with those simple seven words, Princess Margaret wouldn't budge. I think he actually expected us to put up his hotel fee before I set him straight."
"Watchers?" Angel repeated dubiously. He was surprised there was still any left willing to revive the council. Hadn't they learnt anything from the debacle with the First?
"Mmm-hmm. Apparently The First wasn't as thorough as we thought", she replied. "Or wanted", she added under her breath.
Angel frowned. "They want to help you with the girls?"
Buffy shrugged. "The girls have gone home, but I guess that's what they're looking for. We already explained we don't need their interference."
"Funny how they won't listen", Faith commented.
"So you want them out of the country", Angel guessed. "In a more... official capacity."
"What I thought", Faith said. "Which is why I reminded my friend Buffy here we had an old buddy to look up, more an' willing to help a good cause." She seemed much more at ease with him, which he understood. Their relationship was straightforward and uncomplicated. She was like his younger sister. For Buffy? He could never say the same on all accounts.
Angel smiled wanly. "I could probably arrange something. You do realise even with Wolfram and Hart this could take a few days. You might still have them on your backs until then".
Buffy shrugged. "A few days are better than a lifetime. Or, my lifetime, anyway. You're sure its not too much trouble..."
"It's fine", he assured her, expression strangely neutral.
Faith clasped her hands together awkwardly; sensing the heat in the room fly up a few notches at the same time the tension thickened the air to dangerous levels. "Well, great", she said unconvincingly. Was it her, or was there something off with Angel? If Buffy was sensing anything, she wasn't making like it was any big deal, but Faith knew the other slayer a little better than that. They were both acting oddly stilted, and she wondered what exactly had been said the last time they saw each other.
She realised she had been shifted into the role of go-between, which in itself would have given her a warm glowy feeling inside, but with these two it just gave her the creeps. She was almost tempted to reintroduce them, just to remind them who they were speaking to.
"It might be easier if you contact me when the rest arrive in the city", he added, reaching behind his desk to retrieve a small square card. He handed it to Faith, who was closest. "I'll tell my secretary to expect your call".
Hello to Mr. Impersonal Big City Guy, Faith thought, feeling off-balanced. She spared the card a brief glance, seeing the emblem no longer represented an angel, or what was supposed to be an angel, but the icon of Wolfram and Hart.
"Okay, we'll, uh, see you soon I guess", she said, feeling as though he couldn't rush them to the door fast enough.
"Yeah. It was good to see you."
Their goodbyes were polite and concise, and then she and Buffy were back out in the hall, where Angel's secretary stole them a quick, curious glance, before returning to her typing.
Faith squared Buffy with a long look, curiosity fairly peaked.
*What the hell was that in there? More to the point, *who* was that in there?*
****
Funny how the sight of two of the world's most powerful guardians could ruin a man's appetite.
Instead of heading to the cafeteria like he said, Gunn cut a sharp turn, and went down the hall towards the library that held the entire extent of Wolfram and Hart's prophetic collection.
The glass door opened with a swish against the carpet, and it came to his attention that Wesley, though in the exact position Gunn had envisioned him hunched over a thick red volume at the far desk, was not alone.
Fred sat at a safe distance away on the foot of the sofa, thin-rimmed stylish red glasses perched on top of her head, eyes scanning through various papers spread across her lap.
Sure, he and Wesley seemed to have surpassed their differences over the summer. They both cared for Fred, and maybe with a little help from Jasmine, realised that should bring them together, not apart. But it didn't mean seeing them there together, even doing something as innocent as research, didn't cut deep.
She and Wesley had so much more in common than they ever had, and the fact had always been at the back of his mind, slowly destroying the last vestiges of their already shaky relationship.
Wesley and Fred glanced up, both obviously very absorbed in their work. Fred was usually in the Science Division by this time of the day, so he figured there must be a good reason for her to be over here. Never mind maybe she just wanted Wesley's company.
"Hey", he greeted, slumping on the vacant sofa across the room. He eyed them both curiously. "What are you guys doing?"
"We wanted to look further into these prowlers from the other night", Fred spoke up in her strong Texan twang. "See if we could find if there have been any previous references to them. Finding a new species of demon this side of the new millennium is pretty rare. And some research we did the other day backs up my theory that prowlers aren't well accustomed to enclosed spaces. So we thought maybe –"
"Okay, okay", Gunn interrupted irritably, rubbing his forehead. "I get y'all are doin' research."
Fred looked slightly sheepish. "Sorry." She glanced at her watch. "What are you doing up here?" she asked with a slight frown. "Isn't it lunch time?"
Gunn felt slightly affronted. Way to insult a guy's intellectual capability. And it just proved how well Fred knew him. "Was going that way", he explained defensively. "Least I was until I got distracted by Angel's two surprise, and excuse me when I saw *hot* visitors. Mean Darla was a honey, but dead ain't much of a turn on. I'm starting to get this Buffy thing now".
"Buffy was here?" Fred said, straightening curiously. The slayer was somewhat infamous, at least to the two of them, who had heard so much about her but never actually met her.
Gunn nodded, suddenly pleased with his superior knowledge. "Yep."
"Buffy and Angel's attraction is hardly physical based, you know", Wesley reminded him seriously.
Gunn rolled his eyes. "Way I seen 'em, it musta been part of it."
"Who's the other?" Fred spoke up. "You said two".
Gunn leant back. "Oh, yeah. Faith's here too. Official slayer business or something. Hey, as long as the world ain't ending, I don't care."
"It must be something", Wesley mused thoughtfully. "It's not exactly commonplace for them to stop by for a visit."
"If it is, won't be long before we're hearing about it", Gunn remarked. He hesitated. "Angel didn't seem that pleased to see them though", he admitted. "Way you talk it up, he and the slayer were pretty tight, right? Seems like the man's in a permanent funk these days, and we all know where that can lead us."
Wesley frowned, closing the book on the desk. "I doubt we can assume things will get that drastic. Though I must admit Angel does seem to be a bit out of sorts. And Buffy's presence can hardly improve that mood."
"Cordelia", Fred said softly. "She meant a lot to him. He's got to still be getting over that."
Wesley unconsciously ran a hand over his stubble. "Perhaps". He sounded unconvinced. "I think all of this started after that." He gestured around. "This place. What it means. It has to be affecting him on some level. Ever since he arrived in Los Angeles, he has held this firm belief that he would make a difference. The Shanshu prophecy may have distracted him for a while, but in the end his intentions were still for the greater good. Wolfram and Hart represents all he is set against. He would feel corrupted, tainted from his mission in their ranks."
"But we are doing good here", Fred protested. "Angel knows we can change things."
Wesley sighed. "Then maybe everything is just getting to him. We have been rather distant these past few months. His control over us is slipping, and so is his certainty we're still on his side."
"So in other words, you're sayin' he's lonely?" Gunn surmised frankly.
A flash of guilt washed over Fred's expression. "We sort of... aren't around as much as we could be. It's just so easy to—"
"—Get caught up?" Wesley finished grimly. "Yes, I suppose it is."
"We'll speaking of seeing, anyone seen Lorne much lately?" Gunn piped up, changing the topic. They were starting to depress him.
Fred shrugged, shaking her hair and tumbling around her curly brown locks. Over the summer she had cut her hair, and it now fell in a neat, curly bob to her shoulders. It made her look more like a genius than before, Gunn thought.
"Not really", she admitted. "I think he's getting about as much caught up in it all as the rest of us. It's not like he's keeping distant on purpose or anything."
Gunn sighed. "Right." He rubbed his hands together, a little too eagerly. "So. Which one of us gets to go over and see what that visit was all about? We gonna rock, paper, scissor it, or what?"
"Considering Angel's current mood, I think we should just leave them be", Wesley said evenly. "He'll tell us when he's ready – if there's even anything to tell at all".
****
Lorne strode down the main corridor towards the big boss's office, whistling show tunes to himself as he did.
Most employees didn't give him the slightest bit of attention; they had all become accustomed fairly quickly to the Angel Investigation's crew and their foreign ways. And hey, it wasn't like they hadn't dealt with weirder.
Lorne couldn't help a feeling of guilt as he made the trek down the now familiar hallway however, knowing all too well he hadn't been giving old Angel much in the way of visitin' the past few months.
It was all just so overwhelming. That very morning he had helped Wolfram and Hart sign *The* Sir Elton to a long and binding contract, and the singer was every bit as classy as he looked on the screen and stage.
As Lorne rounded the corner, he bumped shoulders with a young woman walking in the opposite direction, and he opened his mouth to offer apologies. The contact, however brief, sparked something in him before he could muster up anything remotely intelligible.
When he did his aura reading, the visions were rarely seen in visual representation, more an ambience, strong or week depending on the person's mental capability. This was something completely off the charts.
A mystical backlash caused him to stagger into the opposite wall, and blinding flashes assaulted his eyes, until he was completely unaware of the mostly curious gazes of lawyers around him.
Sharp pains cut into his skull, which in itself was a strange thing, because the readings were never associated with pain, more a pleasant dulling sensation in the back of his mind. This was something mind-blowing, and he sure hoped that wasn't literal.
He had never planted eyes on the woman, but he could see her as clearly as he could a French Viscose among last season's spring range in his mind. Her beauty, her vulnerability through undoubtable strength, and something big, something vital. He had never felt such a strong connection with someone, and certainly not even before they had opened their mouth, and he knew this was not of his own intervention. This was from something on high, a warning, a sign, he didn't know. If it was the Powers, it didn't surprise, because they weren't essentially known for their clarity.
He blinked, and his vision was cleared. He realised he was on the floor against the railing, and he flinched backwards when someone leant over him.
It was her face, and he knew who she was.
"Are you... all right?" she asked haltingly, seeing his reaction and hesitantly removing her hand.
Lorne shook the feeling off, quickly regaining his composure and picking himself up, even as he was filled with a fear-inspiring dread.
"Hey Lorne, you cool buddy?"
He turned his head, realising he hadn't answered, and noticed Faith's presence for the first time. He nodded his head hastily, backing until he hit the rails. He drew in a breath, forcing himself to sound calm.
"Just a chunk of fine, sweet pea, bit of dizziness, that's all. Must be the lighting, I've told Angel to get it adjusted." He chuckled unconvincingly. "And though I'd love to stay around for a while in the company of you two fine young ladies, and find out the reason for your little visit to our inner sanctum, I've got to scoot."
"Er, okay", Faith said haltingly.
"Are you sure you're all right?" the other asked him uncertainly.
Lorne's eyes darted back to her face, before moving away again quickly. The pain was still pretty darn clear, even if the message wasn't. "Fine, fine. Really, have to watch my eyesight. Lighting, I suspect, like I said. I've got some business to see to with Angel".
"Of course. But I mean, I can always just go back in there and tell him—"
He didn't know why, but the idea of her back in the vampire's presence vaguely unsettled him. "Uh, no, completely unnecessary", his tone was much more smoother than before. He bowed a gracious goodbye, which he knew Faith at least would see was in no way out of character. "Faith. Buffy. If you would excuse me".
He moved off, careful not to make it look like he was in a hurry, while Faith and Buffy exchanged a startled glance.
Buffy stared after him. "Um, how did he know my name?"
****
TBC
There is a design – hidden in the chaos as it may be. But it's there. And
you have your place in it.
–To Shanshu in L.A.
Chapter Two: "In With The New"
****
What were the odds of two slayers walking into a multi-national, million- dollar law company that was until recently fully charged by evil without being noticed?
Buffy figured they were soon to find out as the doors of the elevator opened swiftly, and they were faced with the bustling, inner sanctum of the new and in no way modestly improved W&H complex.
Lawyers in conservative, slick suits ranging from Armani to Versace bustled about as if in constant flight, many with cell-phones permanently attached to their ears, and briefcases melded to their palms. The entire enclosure was completely open, with bright light filtering in from above by a row of neatly spaced skylights she wondered at their appropriateness in a firm fully operated by a vampire.
She dropped back, allowing Faith to lead the way to the main desk. This was her idea after all. Let her deal with the technicalities.
Their only lucky break seemed to be that everyone was far too busy in his or her own business to concentrate on the newly entered pair of vampire slayers to their turf.
Buffy felt burly, tough fingers pinch into the flesh of her shoulder as a large hand closed over her.
Famous last words.
"Excuse me, m'am".
Buffy reluctantly turned; realising Faith had already disappeared into the crowd.
She was faced with an impressively built security guard, fitted with more than your standard armour wear, including a sharply wielded stake and a long, imposing tazer blaster. That maybe concerned her a little bit.
"I'm going to have to ask you to leave, miss."
Buffy's hand flew to rest on her hip. "Got a reason to go along with that, pal?" she asked sourly, pretty good idea in mind. "I don't like jumping through hoops".
"Your entry into this establishment is breaching several security codes", he said tightly, hand already flexing over his utility belt like he expected her to be trouble. He also held a radio that with the press of a button could bring along many more of his tazer-equipped buddies. "Its standard procedure. We don't allow vampire slayers access on the premises unless under special instruction. So if you would be as to so kind..."
"Right. I forgot, not currently evil", Buffy replied, crossing her arms stubbornly. She could see shapes flocking over in the corners of her eyes, but didn't twitch as she continued to speak. "Well, you'll excuse me for being so *rude*, but do you think you could explain to your little lackeys behind me that I happen to know your big boss upstairs?"
His gaze didn't flicker either; apparently he hadn't been clued in on this little factoid, and wasn't buying into her explanation. Hey, at least this time it was *true*.
"Like I said, we have no previous instructions to admit a slayer access. It would be best for everyone if you could leave without any trouble, don't you agree?"
Even as he said this, she could see the imperceptible movement of his eyes as he instructed guards behind her into position. Buffy really wanted to punch him. Maybe whacking on one of Angel's employees would convince Faith she *really* didn't want to be here.
"Hey, man, what's the problem here?" another, and much more lighter voice piped up at her elbow. Buffy turned just as a handsome young black man came to a stop beside them, obviously assessing a potentially dangerous situation when he saw one.
The security guard turned to him with a look of exasperation, and waved a hand in her direction. "This *woman*", he said distastefully, "Is breaching security code just by being here".
The black man cocked an eyebrow, eyeing her with newfound curiosity. He looked different to the many other stylishly dressed lawyers around him. Much more at ease, but the same time with an alertness that let her know he was not entirely in his element. For some odd reason it made her trust him. Or slightly more than this burly Captain America, anyway.
"That right? And how exactly has the lady done that?"
Buffy sighed, eyes scanning the perimeter for Faith. Where had the girl disappeared off to?
"Vampire slayer", she replied vaguely, pointing to herself. She smiled sweetly at the guard. "Though I think that's just a cover up because he doesn't like me".
The man seemed to straighten almost immediately. "You're a slayer?" He scratched his bald scalp. "You wouldn't happen to go by the name Buffy, would you?"
Buffy frowned, turning so she was fully facing him, and effectively blocking the guard at the same time. "Not that I'm surprised you know my name – everyone seems to — but something tells me this goes deeper than that".
Just as he opened his mouth to respond, Faith's familiar voice spoke loudly behind them. "Jesus B, what you doing talking with the help? I'm still trying to get Miss Prissy behind the counter to believe I'm who I say I am, and when I introduced her to my invisible buddy Buffy, she got the idea in her head security was necessary. Seeing Angel these days is like booking a ticket into Michael. I'm seriously considering hiring him a new staff or somethin'".
She stopped when she noticed both the black man and security guard staring at her. Then her features twisted into a brash, white-toothed grin. "Chucky. Long time, no fight. How goes the hand-to-hand?"
"Faith", he replied, easing into a smile himself. "Nice to see ya." He waved at the guard. "It's okay. These girls are with the boss".
Buffy smirked at the guard, who looked pissed at being so easily dismissed. "Told you".
Gunn turned to glance between both of them, smile switching to a frown. "Hope he didn't give you too much trouble?" he directed at Buffy, as the guard disappeared.
Buffy shrugged. "I don't know. I think he was itching for someone to hit him."
Gunn shook his head, looking amused. "I'm Gunn, by the way."
Buffy nodded, accepting his outstretched hand. "Angel told me about you".
"You too. Guess you're here to see him, huh? Only explanation I can think for you showing up in our neck of the woods."
"Would be nice."
He nodded, hesitating. "I'll show you the way."
****
Gunn led the two vampire slayers through a labyrinth of corridors and up a few floors, furtively studying them as they followed in contemplative silence. He got the vibe that Buffy was less than happy to be there, but didn't comment on it.
Faith and Buffy were about as opposite as night and day, and he could barely see how they had something so ancient in common as their lineage. Faith was brazen, sultry, and tough, a fighter by no stretch of the imagination. Buffy, on the other hand, looked more suited to the delicate than slaying vampires. She had a tiny, fragile build, but when he looked into her eyes saw they held an undoubtable durability. She was beautiful, but not in the open, smouldering way Faith could claim.
There was something in her that screamed Angel's type.
They reached the floor of Angel's office, and Gunn nodded to his secretary, a smartly dressed young woman called Anita, who reminded him all too uncannily of Lilah Morgan – or maybe Lilah ten years younger, and still alive. Way he saw it; lawyer types were all the same. After his intense, insightful experience in the White Room, he had little contact with them, and that was fine by him.
It was probably lucky for Buffy and Faith he had come by on his way to an early lunch, the day he had changed from the third floor cafeteria to the second floor one, since they refused on serving burritos.
Still, he hesitated before he knocked on the wood grain door. Angel's mood had become more morose since they joined up with the evil law firm, though he wasn't entirely sure that was the reason for the vampire's attitude. They didn't see much of each other barring their fortnightly excursions, so he rarely had the opportunity to ask.
He peered inside, opening the door a few inches. The office was in gloom, which probably matched the vampire's mood, despite the special plated glass that allowed complete sunlight to filter in without it being an issue.
Angel sat behind the desk, going through some files, expression focused.
"Angel, man".
His voice was the first Angel realised he wasn't alone, and it worried Gunn that it had been so easy to sneak up on him. He'd seemed switched on the night they took out those prowlers, but something seemed to be hedging at him.
"Gunn, what is it?"
Gunn gestured to the girls to wait for a moment, and went further into the room.
"You got some uninvited company".
Angel's face scrunched up, and he frowned. "Can't you tell them they need an appointment? I'm kind of in the middle of..."
He never finished his sentence. The door opened the rest of the way, and he was confronted with the sight of two of the most significant women of his past, though each for different reasons obviously.
Faith smirked at him, arms folding casually across her chest.
"Love the way you prioritise, big guy".
Angel stared at them a moment, anxiously clearing his throat. "Faith", he murmured, not without a certain level of affection. A longer, more pregnant pause filled the room before he added, "Buffy."
"Hey Angel", she said softly, already cursing herself for allowing her eyes to meet his own. If she was a sucker for a cause, she was lost to those deep chocolate depths.
Baking, she reminded herself sternly. Part of the reason she was so against coming here. Spike was gone, and she was still cookie dough. Accent on the dough.
Faith's approach was much more blasé. "Hey man", she greeted, lobbying into the room as if completely missing the tension building between the ex- lovers. Gunn doubted anyone could be that blind.
"What's the what? I gotta tell you, you need to improve the welcoming committee downstairs, we had a whole mess of trouble getting in to see you. And seriously, what's with the appointment thing? What, are we running a reservation service?"
Angel looked slightly taken-aback. "You had trouble?"
"Security have a thing against slayers", Gunn filled in, moving toward the door. "Must be a standing policy. And unless you need me, I gotta jam. Late for an important line-up in the company cafeteria".
He gave them a wide, encompassing wave, and closed the door behind him, not anxious in the least to discover what news the slayers brought along with them.
Faith stretched, taking in the office appreciatively. "Like the leather interior you got going, Ange", she commented flippantly, circling slowly around the room. "Oh cool, is that an entertainment system?"
"Is something wrong?" Angel asked in concern, rising to his feet to stand on the opposite side of his desk.
"Nothing's wrong", Buffy assured him; since Faith was too busy surveying the television to be of much assistance. She noticed how much more at ease her sister slayer seemed around the soulful vampire, and found it annoyed her slightly.
Angel folded his arms, levelling her with an even gaze. "Well, there must be something, because you don't often drop by for social visits."
Oh, was there a point in there? Faith thought.
The brunette slayer smirked. "Can be arranged, honey. And since Buffy don't seem to be in any hurry, I'll cut us to the why. There's a whole mess of watchers headed Cali way, and we had a short little meeting with one of their reps flown over from mother England earlier. No matter how much effort Buffy put into her 'Get the Hell out of my country' speech which I think would have been much more effective with those simple seven words, Princess Margaret wouldn't budge. I think he actually expected us to put up his hotel fee before I set him straight."
"Watchers?" Angel repeated dubiously. He was surprised there was still any left willing to revive the council. Hadn't they learnt anything from the debacle with the First?
"Mmm-hmm. Apparently The First wasn't as thorough as we thought", she replied. "Or wanted", she added under her breath.
Angel frowned. "They want to help you with the girls?"
Buffy shrugged. "The girls have gone home, but I guess that's what they're looking for. We already explained we don't need their interference."
"Funny how they won't listen", Faith commented.
"So you want them out of the country", Angel guessed. "In a more... official capacity."
"What I thought", Faith said. "Which is why I reminded my friend Buffy here we had an old buddy to look up, more an' willing to help a good cause." She seemed much more at ease with him, which he understood. Their relationship was straightforward and uncomplicated. She was like his younger sister. For Buffy? He could never say the same on all accounts.
Angel smiled wanly. "I could probably arrange something. You do realise even with Wolfram and Hart this could take a few days. You might still have them on your backs until then".
Buffy shrugged. "A few days are better than a lifetime. Or, my lifetime, anyway. You're sure its not too much trouble..."
"It's fine", he assured her, expression strangely neutral.
Faith clasped her hands together awkwardly; sensing the heat in the room fly up a few notches at the same time the tension thickened the air to dangerous levels. "Well, great", she said unconvincingly. Was it her, or was there something off with Angel? If Buffy was sensing anything, she wasn't making like it was any big deal, but Faith knew the other slayer a little better than that. They were both acting oddly stilted, and she wondered what exactly had been said the last time they saw each other.
She realised she had been shifted into the role of go-between, which in itself would have given her a warm glowy feeling inside, but with these two it just gave her the creeps. She was almost tempted to reintroduce them, just to remind them who they were speaking to.
"It might be easier if you contact me when the rest arrive in the city", he added, reaching behind his desk to retrieve a small square card. He handed it to Faith, who was closest. "I'll tell my secretary to expect your call".
Hello to Mr. Impersonal Big City Guy, Faith thought, feeling off-balanced. She spared the card a brief glance, seeing the emblem no longer represented an angel, or what was supposed to be an angel, but the icon of Wolfram and Hart.
"Okay, we'll, uh, see you soon I guess", she said, feeling as though he couldn't rush them to the door fast enough.
"Yeah. It was good to see you."
Their goodbyes were polite and concise, and then she and Buffy were back out in the hall, where Angel's secretary stole them a quick, curious glance, before returning to her typing.
Faith squared Buffy with a long look, curiosity fairly peaked.
*What the hell was that in there? More to the point, *who* was that in there?*
****
Funny how the sight of two of the world's most powerful guardians could ruin a man's appetite.
Instead of heading to the cafeteria like he said, Gunn cut a sharp turn, and went down the hall towards the library that held the entire extent of Wolfram and Hart's prophetic collection.
The glass door opened with a swish against the carpet, and it came to his attention that Wesley, though in the exact position Gunn had envisioned him hunched over a thick red volume at the far desk, was not alone.
Fred sat at a safe distance away on the foot of the sofa, thin-rimmed stylish red glasses perched on top of her head, eyes scanning through various papers spread across her lap.
Sure, he and Wesley seemed to have surpassed their differences over the summer. They both cared for Fred, and maybe with a little help from Jasmine, realised that should bring them together, not apart. But it didn't mean seeing them there together, even doing something as innocent as research, didn't cut deep.
She and Wesley had so much more in common than they ever had, and the fact had always been at the back of his mind, slowly destroying the last vestiges of their already shaky relationship.
Wesley and Fred glanced up, both obviously very absorbed in their work. Fred was usually in the Science Division by this time of the day, so he figured there must be a good reason for her to be over here. Never mind maybe she just wanted Wesley's company.
"Hey", he greeted, slumping on the vacant sofa across the room. He eyed them both curiously. "What are you guys doing?"
"We wanted to look further into these prowlers from the other night", Fred spoke up in her strong Texan twang. "See if we could find if there have been any previous references to them. Finding a new species of demon this side of the new millennium is pretty rare. And some research we did the other day backs up my theory that prowlers aren't well accustomed to enclosed spaces. So we thought maybe –"
"Okay, okay", Gunn interrupted irritably, rubbing his forehead. "I get y'all are doin' research."
Fred looked slightly sheepish. "Sorry." She glanced at her watch. "What are you doing up here?" she asked with a slight frown. "Isn't it lunch time?"
Gunn felt slightly affronted. Way to insult a guy's intellectual capability. And it just proved how well Fred knew him. "Was going that way", he explained defensively. "Least I was until I got distracted by Angel's two surprise, and excuse me when I saw *hot* visitors. Mean Darla was a honey, but dead ain't much of a turn on. I'm starting to get this Buffy thing now".
"Buffy was here?" Fred said, straightening curiously. The slayer was somewhat infamous, at least to the two of them, who had heard so much about her but never actually met her.
Gunn nodded, suddenly pleased with his superior knowledge. "Yep."
"Buffy and Angel's attraction is hardly physical based, you know", Wesley reminded him seriously.
Gunn rolled his eyes. "Way I seen 'em, it musta been part of it."
"Who's the other?" Fred spoke up. "You said two".
Gunn leant back. "Oh, yeah. Faith's here too. Official slayer business or something. Hey, as long as the world ain't ending, I don't care."
"It must be something", Wesley mused thoughtfully. "It's not exactly commonplace for them to stop by for a visit."
"If it is, won't be long before we're hearing about it", Gunn remarked. He hesitated. "Angel didn't seem that pleased to see them though", he admitted. "Way you talk it up, he and the slayer were pretty tight, right? Seems like the man's in a permanent funk these days, and we all know where that can lead us."
Wesley frowned, closing the book on the desk. "I doubt we can assume things will get that drastic. Though I must admit Angel does seem to be a bit out of sorts. And Buffy's presence can hardly improve that mood."
"Cordelia", Fred said softly. "She meant a lot to him. He's got to still be getting over that."
Wesley unconsciously ran a hand over his stubble. "Perhaps". He sounded unconvinced. "I think all of this started after that." He gestured around. "This place. What it means. It has to be affecting him on some level. Ever since he arrived in Los Angeles, he has held this firm belief that he would make a difference. The Shanshu prophecy may have distracted him for a while, but in the end his intentions were still for the greater good. Wolfram and Hart represents all he is set against. He would feel corrupted, tainted from his mission in their ranks."
"But we are doing good here", Fred protested. "Angel knows we can change things."
Wesley sighed. "Then maybe everything is just getting to him. We have been rather distant these past few months. His control over us is slipping, and so is his certainty we're still on his side."
"So in other words, you're sayin' he's lonely?" Gunn surmised frankly.
A flash of guilt washed over Fred's expression. "We sort of... aren't around as much as we could be. It's just so easy to—"
"—Get caught up?" Wesley finished grimly. "Yes, I suppose it is."
"We'll speaking of seeing, anyone seen Lorne much lately?" Gunn piped up, changing the topic. They were starting to depress him.
Fred shrugged, shaking her hair and tumbling around her curly brown locks. Over the summer she had cut her hair, and it now fell in a neat, curly bob to her shoulders. It made her look more like a genius than before, Gunn thought.
"Not really", she admitted. "I think he's getting about as much caught up in it all as the rest of us. It's not like he's keeping distant on purpose or anything."
Gunn sighed. "Right." He rubbed his hands together, a little too eagerly. "So. Which one of us gets to go over and see what that visit was all about? We gonna rock, paper, scissor it, or what?"
"Considering Angel's current mood, I think we should just leave them be", Wesley said evenly. "He'll tell us when he's ready – if there's even anything to tell at all".
****
Lorne strode down the main corridor towards the big boss's office, whistling show tunes to himself as he did.
Most employees didn't give him the slightest bit of attention; they had all become accustomed fairly quickly to the Angel Investigation's crew and their foreign ways. And hey, it wasn't like they hadn't dealt with weirder.
Lorne couldn't help a feeling of guilt as he made the trek down the now familiar hallway however, knowing all too well he hadn't been giving old Angel much in the way of visitin' the past few months.
It was all just so overwhelming. That very morning he had helped Wolfram and Hart sign *The* Sir Elton to a long and binding contract, and the singer was every bit as classy as he looked on the screen and stage.
As Lorne rounded the corner, he bumped shoulders with a young woman walking in the opposite direction, and he opened his mouth to offer apologies. The contact, however brief, sparked something in him before he could muster up anything remotely intelligible.
When he did his aura reading, the visions were rarely seen in visual representation, more an ambience, strong or week depending on the person's mental capability. This was something completely off the charts.
A mystical backlash caused him to stagger into the opposite wall, and blinding flashes assaulted his eyes, until he was completely unaware of the mostly curious gazes of lawyers around him.
Sharp pains cut into his skull, which in itself was a strange thing, because the readings were never associated with pain, more a pleasant dulling sensation in the back of his mind. This was something mind-blowing, and he sure hoped that wasn't literal.
He had never planted eyes on the woman, but he could see her as clearly as he could a French Viscose among last season's spring range in his mind. Her beauty, her vulnerability through undoubtable strength, and something big, something vital. He had never felt such a strong connection with someone, and certainly not even before they had opened their mouth, and he knew this was not of his own intervention. This was from something on high, a warning, a sign, he didn't know. If it was the Powers, it didn't surprise, because they weren't essentially known for their clarity.
He blinked, and his vision was cleared. He realised he was on the floor against the railing, and he flinched backwards when someone leant over him.
It was her face, and he knew who she was.
"Are you... all right?" she asked haltingly, seeing his reaction and hesitantly removing her hand.
Lorne shook the feeling off, quickly regaining his composure and picking himself up, even as he was filled with a fear-inspiring dread.
"Hey Lorne, you cool buddy?"
He turned his head, realising he hadn't answered, and noticed Faith's presence for the first time. He nodded his head hastily, backing until he hit the rails. He drew in a breath, forcing himself to sound calm.
"Just a chunk of fine, sweet pea, bit of dizziness, that's all. Must be the lighting, I've told Angel to get it adjusted." He chuckled unconvincingly. "And though I'd love to stay around for a while in the company of you two fine young ladies, and find out the reason for your little visit to our inner sanctum, I've got to scoot."
"Er, okay", Faith said haltingly.
"Are you sure you're all right?" the other asked him uncertainly.
Lorne's eyes darted back to her face, before moving away again quickly. The pain was still pretty darn clear, even if the message wasn't. "Fine, fine. Really, have to watch my eyesight. Lighting, I suspect, like I said. I've got some business to see to with Angel".
"Of course. But I mean, I can always just go back in there and tell him—"
He didn't know why, but the idea of her back in the vampire's presence vaguely unsettled him. "Uh, no, completely unnecessary", his tone was much more smoother than before. He bowed a gracious goodbye, which he knew Faith at least would see was in no way out of character. "Faith. Buffy. If you would excuse me".
He moved off, careful not to make it look like he was in a hurry, while Faith and Buffy exchanged a startled glance.
Buffy stared after him. "Um, how did he know my name?"
****
TBC