Angel's office:

After a brief explanation of his recent actions and his plan to take out the Circle of The Black Thorn, he concluded with: "We can't bring down the Senior Partners, but for one bright, shining moment, we can show them that they don't own us. I can't order you to do this. I can't do it without you."

After he was finished, he stood in the center of the room as the others stared at him, dumbfounded.

Angel waited patiently for several moments, clearly expecting a rousing chorus of "yes, Angel, we're with you 110". As the minutes ticked by, Angel looked around the room hopefully, puzzled by the lack of response. Wes shuffled his feet awkwardly, Illyria fidgeted. Spike snorted, Gunn muttered something under his breath, and Lorne surreptitiously checked his PDA in hopes that he'd have an 'urgent – must respond immediately' message.

"Well guys, what do you think of my plan?" Angel said, a note of anxiety creeping into his voice.

Finally Spike broke the silence, "What do I think? Bloody Hell! This is your great plan, you send us on suicide missions? Have you gone barking mad, you stupid berk?" he said. The others quickly voiced similar sentiments.

"Okay, maybe it needs some work," Angel said defensively.

"Needs some work? It needs more than that, you nancy poof," Spike said.

"But, you're all still with me, right?" Angel said his mind still reeling from the reception his 'great plan' had received.

Lorne patted Angel's shoulder. "I was waiting for the right moment to spring this on you, Cinnamon Buns and I guess now is the right time. I've been doing some soul-searching lately, and I realized something. I don't belong here. It's time for me to get on my right path," he said.

Angel felt as if he'd been sucker punched. "What do you mean, your right path?" he said.

"I'm reviving my Vegas act. We're booked for three weeks at the Montecito. Isn't it fantabulous?" Lorne said.

"Congrats mate," said Spike. "Whose 'we'?"

"I took the liberty of borrowing the typing pool along with Eve and Harmony for my Lornettes," Lorne said cheerily. "Oh, by the way, I'm taking Lindsey with me."

"Lindsey's a Lornette?" Angel said.

"No, you big goofball. Lindsey's going to be my opening act," Lorne said.

"But he's evil, and you hate him," Angel protested.

Lorne smiled pityingly at Angel. "Angelcakes, this is show business. I don't care if the boy's evil, he can sing. As for the hate part, it's the one field where that won't be a problem."

"But Lorne, you can't do this to me," Angel pleaded. "I need you."

Lorne gave Angel an insincere smile. "Sorry, Cupcake, no can do. I'm an entertainer, not a fighter. But if you need someone to entertain the troops, just give me a jingle. Toodles." Exiting the office, he called out to Harmony, "Pack your duds, Harmonica, time to get this show on the road."

Angel could hear Harmony squealing "I'm going to be a star. The Cordettes are going to be so jealous of me at our next high-school reunion."

Angel's shoulders slumped. Damn, he thought, I was counting on him to help take out that nest of demons, then whack Lindsey. Who am I gonna sucker into doing my dirty work now? Realizing he still had Illyria, Spike, Gunn and Wes on his side, his mood brightened.

"Wes, Wesley, my old friend. You're still with me, aren't you? You and Illyria?," Angel said, confident of Wes's loyalty.

Illyria spoke. "I have grown tired of this world, its people and their petty concerns. I will leave this place and its insignificant lower beings. I shall open up a portal, travel the dimensions, experience things that no petty human can understand. And I'm leaving right now."

"Okay, we don't need you anyway," Angel snapped. "I still have Gunn, Spike and Wesley."

Wesley cleared his throat. "Um, Angel? I have something to tell you," he said nervously. "Actually, I'm going with her," Wes admitted sheepishly.

"Wes!" Angel cried, cut to the quick that his long-time companion was abandoning him.

"Come, my pet. There are many worlds I wish to show you," Illyria said, grabbing Wes's arm.

"Sorry, Angel. Glaciers rippling with insensate lust are something far too good to pass up. Ta," Wesley said as Illyria led him from the room.

Angel desperately tried to salvage the situation. Turning to Gunn, he said, "So, it's you, me and Spike. We can do it. We can take out the Circle by ourselves."

"Uh, Angel," Gunn said. "I really don't see that happening."

Angel's heart sank. "No, I'm not hearing this," Angel moaned.

"I decided to join the Greater Los Angeles 'Gilbert and Sullivan Society'. We're staging 'The Pirates of Penzance'. I'm playing a pirate. Pretty good for a boy from Compton," he said smugly.

Stunned into incoherence, all Angel could say was "Huh?"

"Good on you, mate," Spike said enthusiastically. "I remember seeing that show when it first ran in London."

Gunn left the office humming "The Flowers That Bloom in the Spring, Tra La".

Angel sighed. His day had most definitely not turned out as expected. However, at least he still had Spike. If there was one thing he could count on, it was that Spike would never leave him, not for any reason. No, Spike was impossible to shake off. God knows he'd tried. Angel broke out of his reverie; Spike was saying something about travel plans.

"Anyway, I'm off to Rome to see the Slayer. Maybe she'll have me back, maybe she won't, but at least I'll have tried," Spike said.

Angel jumped. This couldn't be right. "Buffy's with the Immortal, or have you forgotten that?"

"Buffy dumped Mort the minute she found out he shagged both Darla and Drusilla back in the day," Spike said cheerfully.

"How do you know that?" Angel said. "And how did she find out about Darla and Drusilla?"

"Ah, it seems that a certain person, whose name rhymes with Shandrew, may have let slip a wee bit of information about good ol' Mort's past escapades with the Slayer's favorite vampiresses," Spike said. "Time for me to go to Rome and catch her on the rebound."

"But Spike, what about your chance at Shanshu?" Angel said.

"Shanshu, smanshu. Did you know that the blood of a Mohra demon can regenerate dead tissue? Just scratch myself, mix in a drop or two of demonic blood, and bob's your uncle, I'm human again," Spike said happily. "I'm going straight to the lab and getting it done."

Angel made a croaking sound.

Spike grinned. "Don't stand there with your mouth open all day, Peaches, or else you'll start catching flies." As he left the room, he couldn't resist one final jab. "I'll consider the Lamborghini your wedding present to us. Ciao Baby."

"No, I'm not hearing this," Angel moaned as he collapsed. Lying on the floor he could hear Lorne leading the new Lornettes and Lindsey in a rousing chorus of 'Lady Marmalade'. He thought he saw the shimmer of a portal being opened. Finally able to move, he staggered over to the window just in time to see Spike walk out into the brilliant sunshine, get into the Lamborghini and roar out of the company parking lot.

The office door opened. Hamilton, well-dressed as always, entered the room. "Angel, we have to talk. It seems The Senior Partners are very unhappy with this quarter's financial reports," he said.

"Not now, Hamilton," Angel said dejectedly.

Hamilton barely restrained from gloating. "Nonsense, no time like the present. I see your so-called friends have all left Wolfram and Hart. Good riddance. Now it's just you and me." A thought struck him. "Hey, we're both immortal. We'll be together forever."

Angel began to sob.

The End.