DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fanfiction produced for entertainment purposes only. Angel, Buffy the Vampire Slayer and all related characters are the creations of Joss Whedon and copyright of 20th Century Fox and Mutant Enemy, Inc. Nemesis is an original character from my Watchtower Gargoyles series. Briarley and Prophecy are original characters from my Witchhaven County series.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This chapter contains some spoilers from the final episode of Angel. There is also one instance of swearing. ::sighs and points to Spike:: Blame him. He insisted that it would be out of character for him to go through an entire story without a single swear word. I did manage to talk him into keeping it fairly mild though.

A Promise of Tomorrow
Chapter 10: Come the Dawn

By Shadow's Mirror

The darkness became light. Then colour. Then shapes. Familiar shapes.

"Either I'm not dead, or Hell looks an awful lot like the Hyperion."

A soft chuckle nearby made Gunn turn his head, instinctively seeking the source of the unfamiliar sound. He immediately realised his mistake and tensed in expectation of the pain he was certain he'd feel. He blinked when the pain did not come. "Huh?"

Gunn stared at the stranger sitting on the floor beside the couch that he was lying on. The familiar couch that he'd sat on many times back when the group had worked out of the old hotel. "Who are you? What happened? Where are the others? Am I dead or not?"

"Not quite, mate. You were close, but." Spike's familiar accent made Gunn sigh in relief.

"I never thought I'd actually be glad to hear your voice." He looked over, his grin fading as he got a good look at the blonde vampire leaning against the wall on the other side of the lobby. "Man, Spike… You look like something the cat dragged in! After it had chewed on it for a while." Gunn thought he heard someone mutter 'Oh please, I have more taste than that!' but he dismissed it as his imagination.

Spike shook his head and grinned. "You can talk!"

Gunn eyed the vampire's torn, wet, muddy and bloodstained clothes and winced. "Please don't tell me I look worse than you do."

"Compared to you, I look like I'm ready to attend a bloomin' ball," Spike cheerfully confirmed.

"Great." Gunn cautiously sat up and was again surprised by the absence of pain. He looked over at Spike. "What's going on? The last thing I remember, we were in the alley and the demons had just hightailed it after the dragon crashed the party." He paused to consider that for a moment. "And do I want to know how that happened?"

"It got fried in the overhead power lines. Just one of many reasons why you don't often see dragons flying around over cities."

The soft reply came from the stranger. Gunn blinked at him. "Okay. And you would be…?"

The stranger, a dark-haired, silver-eyed boy in his late teens, wearing black jeans and a black leather jacket over a dark blue T-shirt, smiled slightly. "My name is Briarley."

Gunn's memory of the rest of the night's events was becoming clear again. "That's right, you were one of the ones who appeared in the alley."

"He's also the one who saved your life." Gunn's head snapped around at the voice as Angel came in from the office area. Like Spike, he looked as though he'd just gone several dozen rounds with a demonic horde. Unlike Spike, he was carrying two mugs of something that smelled remarkably like…

"If that's coffee, there's a chance I might start worshipping you."

Angel grinned as he reached the couch and handed one of the mugs to Gunn. "If you want to worship someone, try Lorne. The coffee was his idea." That got Gunn's attention.

"Lorne? He's here? But I thought… Didn't he say…?" Gunn trailed off in confusion as several more people came out of the back room into the lobby area, including the green-skinned demon that he had been sure he'd never see again. "Lorne! What are you…? I mean… It's great to see you and all, but…"

Lorne shifted uncomfortably. "But you didn't think I'd come after what I'd said. Yeah. I can't say I blame you. I'm a bit surprised myself." He glanced at the black hooded figure beside him as he spoke.

Gunn looked around the group, trying to get his thoughts in order. He took a sip of his coffee and then said the first thing that came into his head. "Someone want to fill me in on what I've missed?" He glanced at the stranger, contentedly sipping his own mug of coffee, and then looked up at Angel, who had perched himself on the arm of the couch. "Did you say this guy saved my life?"

"Yeah." Angel frowned slightly. "Although I have no idea how. I didn't know vampires could heal."

Gunn almost choked on his coffee. "Vampire?" He glanced at the boy in shock. "Okay, hold up a minute. Can we please start from the beginning? 'Cause I am completely lost here."

Angel smiled slightly and nodded. "You passed out in the alley. Apparently you were running on pure adrenaline by then and when the excitement was over…"

"Yeah, I get that bit. Then I woke up here… This is the Hyperion, right?" Gunn frowned as he looked at his surroundings more closely. "It looks… newer."

"That's because it's been completely restored." Angel shrugged at the look Gunn gave him. "I always knew we wouldn't be at Wolfram and Hart forever so, while we were there, I took the opportunity to set a few things in motion. One of them was the restoration of this place. It turns out that the CEO of Wolfram and Hart's Los Angeles' branch makes a surprising amount of money over a year. I had to use it on something, so I figured property would be a pretty good investment."

Gunn blinked. "So, let me get this straight, you own this place now?"

Angel smiled. "Actually, a trust fund owns it now, but Angel Investigations is their permanent tenant."

It was Gunn's turn to smile at that. "Cool. All right, so I passed out, you guys brought me here and…" he glanced at the boy Angel had identified as a vampire, "you healed me?" At Briarley's silent nod, Gunn nodded back. "Thanks. I guess I owe you one," he added, a slight hint of wariness in his voice.

Briarley smiled. "No thanks necessary, and there's no debt. We came here tonight for one reason, to help you and your friends to survive Wolfram and Hart's retaliation. I was merely doing my part."

Gunn thought about that for a few moments before nodding slowly. "Okay. But I still don't get that bit. I mean, why would four strangers help out like that?"

The hooded woman sounded amused when she replied. "I thought I had explained that in the alley."

"He means we want the truth. None of that good and evil stuff."

Angel winced as Spike was his usual less-than-tactful self. "And what Spike means is that we believe you didn't tell those demons the full story. There has to be more to it."

"Such as?" Again, amusement laced the cloaked female's voice.

"Such as the reason why Lorne suddenly appeared in the alley as soon as the music ended."

"He did?" Gunn blinked and eyed Lorne curiously. "You had something to do with that spell?"

The hooded woman responded before Lorne could. "He was the key. Without him, the spell would not have been possible."

Lorne shifted, still looking very uncomfortable. "Hey, you guys provided all the power. All I did was link the spell to the right moment in time."

"I'm still not clear about that whole 'spell' business. What sort of spell was it, exactly?" Although Gunn asked the question, the way Angel, Spike and Illyria immediately directed their full attention towards Lorne showed that he asked it for all of them.

Lorne frowned slightly, as if searching for the right words to explain. "The spell's based on the concept that there's one moment when a person's Fate hangs in the balance. If the spell is activated at that exact point in time, it's possible to influence that person's destiny. But it only works in certain cases."

The woman nodded and took up the explanation. "There are two kinds of Fate. For some, their destiny is set in stone. It cannot be changed, no matter how much a heart may wish it to be, or how strongly the power flows into the song. But there are others whose destinies are not so certain. Sometimes the possible futures of a life are balanced, so destiny remains undetermined until something happens that causes the balance to tip. The catalyst can be anything. A chain of events, or even a single word, choice, thought or action may be all that is needed. But there is always something that causes Fate to be decided. The actions taken at that time decide the course of history. The spell works only in the moment when the balance begins to tip. It allows the spell-singers one chance to determine which direction the balance tips in favour of."

She paused for a moment, making sure that everyone understood what she was saying before she continued. "Until tonight, all of your destinies were balanced, awaiting the catalyst that would decide your Fates. Tonight, that catalyst was revealed. The decision to destroy the Circle of the Black Thorn began a chain of events that ended in that alleyway, with all of you fighting for your lives."

"We could have been goners. You lot stepped in and made sure we got through it. Yeah, we get that." Spike moved away from the wall he'd been leaning against and strode up to the hooded woman until he was standing only a few feet from her. "But you still haven't answered the big question. Why? Why save us? What makes us so special that we're worth that sort of trouble?"

"Because I find all of you to be extremely entertaining." The room was suddenly so silent that a pin dropping would have made everyone jump in alarm.

Spike blinked. "Right. Fair enough." He shrugged and relaxed, apparently satisfied with that answer.

The woman chuckled softly and turned towards the vampire perched on the arm of the couch a few feet away. "Angel, you were correct in what you said earlier. I did not tell the whole truth in the alley. But I did not lie. There are quite a few who have been watching you and your companions. Indeed, ever since your arrival in Los Angeles five years ago, no major event in your life has gone unrecorded. The actions of you and your friends have touched more hearts than you will ever know. Including mine."

She slowly turned her hooded head towards Gunn, then Illyria. "I was watching when all of you went against the Circle. I knew that Wolfram and Hart's retaliation would be brutal, and I could not find it within myself to simply watch as it came to pass. I am not often moved in such a way. Normally, I do not interfere with Fate. Yet tonight, as each of you made your way to that alley, I found myself at a dingy little bar taking the first steps towards this very moment." She shrugged. "Perhaps it was my Fate for me to do so."

"Well it was mine, judging from what I saw back when I visited Sunnydale." Spike whirled around to eye Sweet warily and the demon grinned and winked at him. "Let's just say that there was a connection made that night. It drew me here. Now my job is done. Time for me to head back home." He grinned around at everyone and raised a hand. "It's been fun." Before anyone could do more than blink, the demon lord had vanished in a puff of red smoke.

Gunn coughed and waved his hand, fanning away the smoke. "Man… I hate it when they do that!"

Angel sniffed at the air and winced. "Sulphur and brimstone. Why is it that demon smoke always smells of sulphur and brimstone?"

Ignoring the muttering vampire, Nemesis strode forward from her position at the back of the room. "The demon had a point. It is time that we were going also. There is little of the night remaining and we promised to return before dawn." She held out her hand to Briarley and pulled him to his feet.

Spike snapped to attention. "Hang on! We never found out who you two…" Briarley raised his hand, there was a flash of light and a silver portal was suddenly hovering in the middle of the lobby. Spike blinked. "… are. Bloody hell. Where'd that thing come from?"

Briarley's silver eyes sparkled mischievously as he smiled at the blonde vampire. "I'm Briarley Haven. Some people call me the Thrice-Souled. I have an annoying tendency to show up whenever a songspell is needed without explaining how I knew it was needed or anything else about myself."

Nemesis sighed. "He does. He really does. He also has a bad habit of dragging me along with him on these trips. As if I don't have enough to do." She scowled and prodded him towards the portal. "Will you get a move on? You've already made me miss apprehending a whole night's worth of criminals. If I don't get to use my handcuffs on someone soon, I'm going to become very unhappy!"

"Which is definitely not a good thing." The softly lilting female voice came from somewhere near the couch. Gunn blinked as a small mist-grey cat padded across the floor to the portal. Just before she jumped through, he could have sworn that she turned and winked at him.

Briarley and Nemesis followed the cat through the portal. As the silver oval shimmered and vanished, an uneasy silence fell over those left behind. As usual, Spike was the first to break it.

"Well, that was fun. We survived. So… What now? We wait for Wolfram and Hart to attack us again?" He looked around the room. Angel, Gunn and Lorne shrugged in response. Illyria ignored the question.

The hooded woman slowly closed the few feet between her and the blonde vampire. She stopped directly in front of him, her hand rising to lightly brush against his pale cheek. He blinked at her in surprise but remained still. Her hand dropped to rest on his shoulder. "Wolfram and Hart will not attack again. At least, not in revenge for the events of this night. There are rules. Remember what the cat foretold?"

"You mean the bit about the dragon?"

"No, the last part."

Spike thought for a moment. "Something about vengeance turning, wasn't it?"

The woman nodded. "'Vengeance can be sought but once, before it turns back on itself.' It is an ancient rule. It means that for every act of good against evil, there can be only one retaliation of evil against good. Wolfram and Hart will continue to fight against you. However, each attack they make must be for a new reason or else it will fail. And if it fails, it will do so in such a way that whatever harm it was intended to cause, Wolfram and Hart will incur that harm themselves. Three-fold."

Angel smiled at that and Gunn couldn't resist a chuckle at the evil law firm's expense. Spike grinned. "You mean, they only had one chance to get us and because they stuffed up with the paperwork we're… What? Untouchable? No more demonic hordes? No more sticking us with pointy things?"

The hooded woman shook her head. "Not exactly. They will be after you and they will, no doubt, be even more diligent about it than before, but they will not try something of this scale again. At least, not for a while. They have suffered a great defeat this night. They will require time to recover."

Angel was only partly paying attention to her. He was more interested in Spike's original question. He raised an eyebrow. "'Sticking us with pointy things'? Is that the best you can do?"

"Hey, it's been a long night. I don't see you coming up with any snappy dialogue."

Angel squirmed. "I… could. If I wanted to."

Spike smirked. "Sure, mate. You just keep believing that."

As the two vampires began to argue, the hooded woman chuckled softly. She started to move towards the door and, strangely, neither the two vampires nor the human paid her any attention. But her movement did not go entirely unnoticed. When she reached the front door, she was not alone.

The only sign that Illyria was not completely calm was the expression in her eyes. Grief, pain and confusion mixed with other emotions that were all equally as unfamiliar to the former old one. Those eyes regarded the hooded woman steadily though as she spoke.

"Wesley's fate was decided before tonight. It could not be changed. For him, the catalyst was the death of the one he… loved. From that moment, his own death was certain." Illyria paused and then added, her voice oddly soft, "What is done cannot be undone."

The hooded woman nodded in silent confirmation. That appeared to be all that Illyria had required because she simply turned and walked away again, leaving the woman and Lorne alone.

They shared a long moment of silence. Finally, Lorne spoke softly. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For saving my life. For saving their lives. For reminding me."

"Reminding you of what?"

Lorne smiled slightly. "I said that I wouldn't see them again. At the time, I really thought I meant it. I'm not a fighter. I never have been and I never will be. But… hey, everyone needs friends. Family. For me…" He looked over his shoulder and chuckled softly as Angel and Spike squared off against each other. "For me, these are my friends and as close to family as I have in this dimension. Which is a good thing, believe me. If my real family were in this dimension..." Lorne shuddered just thinking about it.

"I can't believe I actually forgot… well… this. I guess I wasn't immune to Wolfram and Hart after all. They got to me. They made me doubt my friends. There were even times when I actually found myself enjoying my work there!" Lorne shifted uneasily as he admitted it.

"Believe it or not Lorne, not every aspect of Wolfram and Hart is evil. Among their clients are some perfectly ordinary humans. You did some wonderful work there. Which reminds me…" She pulled a business card out of her pocket and handed it to the green demon. "We have a job opening in our music division at the moment. If you're interested, be there tomorrow at eleven."

As Lorne stared down at the card in shock, the hooded woman opened the door. She hesitated on the top step and tilted her head up towards the sky, her sudden movement causing her hood to fall. Lorne caught his breath, as stunned by her beauty as he had been the first time he'd seen her, the night she had first visited his club. He somehow managed to resist his sudden urge to start singing a love song.

She turned to him, her expression serious. "Come the dawn, all those of the light will know what has happened tonight. Then, the war will begin in earnest. You and the others will not be fighting alone, but I cannot promise that the battle will be an easy one. All I can really promise you is… tomorrow."

Lorne smiled. "Sounds good. We'll take it."

Epilogue to follow…