Part 5

"Any body else thinking this is something that would be more at home in Sunnydale?"

It took a moment before anybody spoke. Gunn was the first, and in a return to previous form, he couldn't resist a playful jibe in Angel's direction.

"You'll be surprised what feels at home in LA, ain't that right man?"

"Hey!" Angel grumbled back good-naturedly.

"You know as much as I hate to say this, this could be the work of plain old human evil." Buffy put in, although it was clear that the concept of a human doing something like this left a sour taste in her mouth. To tell the truth, the thought of anything doing this made her feel queasy, let alone someone with a soul.

"Seen more than enough of that." Gunn muttered under his breath, but Angel caught it and the pair of world-weary warriors shared a look filled with deep knowledge. Their time in the bowels of Wolfram and Hart had made a lasting impression. The firm's human clients, appeared, from the outside to be people who had been led astray by the lure of power provided by demonic evil. But when seen from the inside, the last delusions about the infallibility of the human soul had been shattered. These people may have had demonic connections, but they were evil in their own right.

"Uhh, you guys did catch the part where the corpses were hollow, right?" Willow squeaked in protest.

"OK," Every one turned in Angel's direction as he spoke, "Willow, think you can get in into the coroner's office files?"

"Sure" Willow replied, heading over to her laptop and booting it up.

"OK, find out everything you can about the three girls, where they were found, cause of death, anything."

"On it" Willow called back already focused on the task. Nodding, Angel scribbled something on a note pad, tore off the sheet and passed it to Faith.

"Go to this address, it's a lock up. You'll need to get the key from my apartment first; it's in my desk. Take Buffy with you," He stopped for a moment and took a breath. "There're about 12 crates, near the front, I need you to get them back here."

"Sure,"

"Gunn, they're going to need to get into my apartment, you still have key?" Gunn nodded "Good, go with them, and while you're in the area, track down some of your people, the girls are going to need help with the crates, and your truck,"

"Could see if there's any word on the street about these kids too," Gunn replied

"Good, get on it." Angel said he went into he hall to grab his coat.

"And where do you think your going?" Buffy demanded catching his arms as walked past her.

"I'm going to see an old friend," he returned critically, unable to shake off her grip. By this time Faith and Willow had come up to stand beside Buffy.

"The only place you're going is back to bed."

Buffy had watched as Angel came to life before her eyes. The last month she had borne witness to his determination, driven had barely described his attitude when it came to fighting for his health, but there was always something missing. Some-thing she had only ever seen the last time she had seen him in Sunnydale. Purpose, he had had that kind of confidence that only came from having found a place, a vocation. Since his operation Angel had drifted, it had only been 10 days, yet since leaving hospital he seemed so lost. Now as he spoke, he took control of the group with a confident efficiency that was awe-inspiring. This was a side to Angel that Gunn was obviously used to, but those who had only known him as Buffy's taciturn shadow, did double takes to make sure it was the same man standing with them. But regardless of how awe-inspiring it was, the fact remained that it was still only 10 days since he'd been released from hospital, he'd worn himself out by going for an hour long walk, he was hardly in any condition to traipse around the city, looking up old friends. Buffy was loathed to burst his so recently inflated Bubble, but he needed to rest and heal, her focus was his health, the world be damned, and she was renowned for having the stubbornness of bull terrier when she set her mind on something.

"Excuse me?" Angel started at her, who was she to tell him what to do? Their friendship was new and on incredibly shaky ground, now was not the time for her to throw her metaphorical weight around.

"What part didn't I say in English? You've been out of hospital a week, there is no way in hell you're gonna be doing any more than resting, buddy."

"Buffy..." Angel growled in a low voice.

"No need to get growly, big guy. B's right, you should be in bed and if not in bed, you definitely don't need to be running round. The way I see it, whatever errand you have you can send Xander, now if it's too dangerous for Xander then its too dangerous for you too. Coz of that little thing with you being human." Faith said pointedly. She completely agreed with Buffy on this matter, Angel's health first, crazy psycho, maybe demons second.

Angel scanned the room hoping to find an ally. Much to his annoyance he found none; Gunn merely shrugged as if to say 'don't involve me in this', Xander looked indifferent, and Angel thought he would rather not go anywhere other than back to his seat in front of the TV. Willow's resolve face was clearly in place and Faith and Buffy had already voiced their opinions. Looking at the two slayers he saw there wasn't even any point pleading, he wasn't facing two young women in their early twenties, no, he was facing two of the toughest slayers in history and both looked as if there would be serious repercussions if he didn't back down. His jaw set in annoyance, he scowled at the three women.

"Fine."

"What about your old friend? You wonna send Xan?" Buffy inquired giving Angel a smile that was part apologetic, part relieved and part smug.

"We have a spare computer, I'll email her." He said with a glare, putting slight extra emphasis on the 'her'. It was petty and unnecessary and he knew it. The role of leader, of warrior had come so easily to him. He'd slipped back into the familiar role without even realizing; only he wasn't The Power's champion any more, if he ever was. He was ordinary Joe, with a really screwed personal history and a barely mended heart. He couldn't be that person any more. The melancholy that had been drowning him since being released from hospital returned full force and as irrational as it was, he wanted something to fight back against.

With Xander looking somewhat relived to be left alone, Buffy nodded stiffly to Angel. Angel grumpily made his way into Buffy's father's study, not once acknowledging the others, it was very clear from his posture that he was less than happy to be left behind.

Buffy waited until he had disappeared from sight before letting out a long breath. Willow gave her a sympathetic smile, it wasn't easy to be firm with Angel, it was easy to forget how frail he really was, he seemed to do it all the time.

"Hey Will?"

"Yeah?"

"Makes sure he eats?"

Willow nodded with a smile, which Buffy returned. Faith caught Buffy's eye and with a sigh she, Faith and Gunn left the house.

In the end it took the combined effort of both the slayers and 6 of Gunn's kids to haul the crates from the lockup into the truck and then from the truck into the sitting room of the old summers house. Karl sat in the cab of Gunn's truck; well it was his truck now. When Gunn had come back to the neighborhood and knocked some sense into his old crew, he had put Karl in as leader. He'd only been in his lower teens back in Gunn's day; he'd witnessed the elder man's leaving and the chaos that followed. He'd been one of the ones who'd crashed Lorne's club, he'd witnessed a lot over the last few years and Gunn had seen how it had matured the once head strong youth into a fine leader and one of the perks of being the leader was the truck. It wasn't like Gunn could drive it anymore.

Now he nodded to his friend and mentor from the cab, a gesture that was returned by the wheelchair-bound warrior. One of the things he'd learned over the last few years was that Gunn hadn't really abandoned them, he'd simply been called to bigger things; he was working not just for his neighborhood but also for the city at large and even the world. Gunn's stories of his adventures with the souled vampire, were considered better entertainment then a trip to the movies, the kids in his crew eager for Gunn to regale them with more. So it was pretty much common knowledge that should Gunn call on someone for help, odds were it was more important than they had the ability to grasp. Now Gunn had asked him, and his people to be on guard, to listen and watch and tell him anything they could about these murders and that's exactly what they'd do.

Gunn watched Karl drive off, years ago that had been him, offering the help of his people to the larger cause, to a vampire with a soul. Now the next generation was protecting the streets of less known parts of LA, and they too were being pulled into a fight hat was so much bigger than them. He wasn't sure how he knew, but there was something about this that set his teeth on edge, what ever was going on with these murders, it wasn't just something small.

Wheeling himself into the sitting room, he saw the girls trying to pry open the crates with crowbars and Angel hovering at the back of the room, probably because the girls had refused to let him do anything. When they had returned, they entered the house to find Willow still sat at the computer, Xander nowhere in sight and Angel sacked out on the couch. No matter how much he protested to the contrary, Angel had the stamina of a two year old at the moment.

Gunn contented himself to watch as the girls laid into the heavy wooden boxes, and was mildly surprised when Willow got hers open first and pulled a large book out of the packing straw, a large and familiar book.

"Hey didn't Wes have that book?" He asked Angel as he wheeled himself closer.

Angel took the book from willow and ran his hands carefully over the cover, a wistful and sad expression covering his face.

"This is Wes'," he said with a sad nod, still almost caressing the leather bound tome. Gunn ducked his head slightly, the mention of their fallen comrades still so raw and painful to the both of them. After he a moment her peered over the side of the crate at the rest of its contents, more books.

"This all his stuff then?"

"Wes', Fred's, Lorne's, Spike's..." '... Connor's' He thought, then reminded himself that Connor's belongings, what he had left of them, were tucked away in the farthest corner of the lock up, protected by spells and glamours, a closely hidden secret.

The three women in the room didn't speak; this was an intensely private moment for the two men. Angel swallowed thickly and laid the book carefully on the table before moving to dig another out of the crate. The others took their cue to continue unpacking the boxes. Soon the sitting room was home to piles of Books, weapons, strange looking mechanical devices that could only have been designed by Fred, and a long leather duster. Angel wasn't sure how the duster had survived the battle, but when he had come back to the alley to find Gunn, he had seen it on the floor; Spike must have shed it at some point during the fight. It wasn't the original one, that had been lost in Italy, but it was nearly the same, a pack of Luckies in the pocket and an antique Zippo lighter. Angel sat down heavily on the couch, simply running the soft leather between his fingers. He and his grand-childe may have never really been close, but Spike was family. During that last battle they had recaptured a bond thought lost for over 100 years, so now the tangible evidence of Spike's demise left the bitter tang of grief as much as Wesley's books or Fred's inventions did.

A tentative hand on his shoulder and the feeling of the couch dipping as someone took a seat beside him shook Angel from his brooding. Clearing his throat in a futile attempt to clear the mist of grief, Angel looked over to who had sat beside him; it was Buffy.

"You ok?"

"Didn't think this would be so hard."

Buffy nodded in understanding, her eyes darting to the leather coat in Angel's grasp. Angel followed her gaze and let out a bitter chuckle before handing the garment to Buffy.

"I think... I know he would have wanted you to have this."

Buffy pulled the duster into her lap and studied it.

"Its not Spike's... his... it umm... there was a tear and this one..." Buffy trailed off realizing what she was saying. She wanted the earth to swallow her right then and there, 'that was brilliant thinking Buffy! Yes just tell Angel how well you know spikes duster, he won't get any inferences from that... no... course not. Can I be more stupid?'

Angel let out another humorless laugh. "His... got destroyed when we were in Italy, the Rome branch of Wolfram and Heart got him a new one."

"Thank you,"

Angel nodded. "He missed you. He would say things to wind me up, but I knew him, he missed you. But I don't think he knew how to face you."

"Face me?"

"He went out with a bang, would ruin his image he said, if he suddenly turned up not fried."

"Typical Spike." Buffy said with a sad laugh.

"Yeah, typical Spike." Angel searched his feelings trying to work out what he truly felt about Spike since his death. He couldn't muster any anger towards him for sleeping with Buffy, he didn't know the details of the relationship but they didn't really matter. He couldn't begrudge a man in love following his heart and Buffy was so dammed easy to love. His and Spike's issues had stemmed back much farther than one tiny blonde slayer, but 124 years, a dozen or more countries, numerous adventures and battles, two souls and one love later, Angel found himself unable to say with honesty, that he hated Spike. On the contrary, he would admit, if only to himself, that he admired Spike, and some dark part of him still believed that he was only human because Spike hadn't been around to receive it. Spike had been a thorn in his side, a nuisance and a headache for most of the time he'd known him, especially this last year. But while Spikes death on the hellmouth hadn't really seemed all that real, his turning to dust in front Angel in the midst of the most intense battle he'd ever fought was more than real enough. Spike was dead and Angel grieved for him as much as he grieved for all his fallen friends. And as he grieved their issues dissipated to dust much like his grand-childe had done.

His issues with Buffy however, were as real and as painful as ever and the reminder of her affair with his blonde grand-childe was a slap in the face. But he held is tongue, he didn't know all the facts and for now he was happy in his ignorance, knowing the truth would probably break him.

The whole room had watched the exchange with interest, even Xander who had been at the store and had only returned minutes earlier, was hooked in on the two ex-lovers. It was much to their relief to see the tension that had surrounded the pair, even if not gone, was less. It was going to make for much easier living conditions.

Angel looked up and realized they were center of attention, every one quickly got back to sorting out the piles of belongings, all except one. Gunn hadn't been concentrating on the pair; he had something clasped in his hands, a rabbit soft toy. Angel stood from the couch and walked over to his friend and sat on the rim of one of the crates opposite the other remaining member of Angel investigations.

"Figganbaum"

"Yeah. Fred never slept without it. Where'd you get it?"

"Wes's apartment, he had a lot of Fred's stuff moved there, after... I'm sorry, We needed the books and weapons, I just... when I packed everything up I just threw it all in boxes... I didn't think..."

Gunn nodded, "s'ok man... Thanks... for keeping it."

Angel sighed; this was hard for both of them, old memories, past ghosts, brought to life through tattered remains.

"You should keep it, I know how much Fred meant to you."

"I don't deserve it."

"Not for you to decide." Angel said knowingly and Gunn grinned. 'Never argue with the king of guilt about guilt... hey maybe that should be another saying from uncle Theo...'

"So... "Gunn said eventually, after pocketing the rabbit. "We get this stuff for a reason or did you just feel like an extra dose of angst today?"

"Uh, yeah, my books, Wes's books, all the stuff from the Hyperion. I figured we could try and find something that sounds like these murders."

"So... research... damn Wes'd be bummed to miss this, I think he was really starting to miss old school researching."

Angel laughed.

It took hours but they eventually had all the boxes sorted through and all the stuff that wasn't being kept at the house re-boxed up and ready to go back to the lock up. Cordelia's laptop, all of the books and all of the weapons were now the only things in the sitting room. Angel had taken some personal things, paintings, sculptures and photographs up to his room, Buffy had found a cardboard box, which Gunn had filled and left in the hallway. Willow had found three orbs of thesula and hadn't been able to hold back her mirth when Angel had explained that Wesley had, on occasion, been known to be paranoid. She'd kept them saying it was for old times sake, although she hoped she'd never have to use one again, ever, a sentiment that was shared by all the rooms occupants. Out of Cordelia's belongings Willow, Buffy and Xander found things to link them back to their childhoods. A Sunnydale High yearbook, photographs from the prom and other group outings, things they thought they'd never see the likes of again, since the destruction of Sunnydale.

With the room clear, the group settled down to serious research; every one grabbing books, except willow who returned to the computer and Gunn who booted up Cordelia's in the hope of finding some of her more useful links. That was how Robin found them, when he walked in through the door, close to 8 o'clock that evening.

"OK, I think I would have noticed if the world was ending."

Faith jumped up from her chair and caught Robin's hand. Dragging him to the couch she shoved a book in his hand and pushed him down on the sofa.

"Not the end of the world, but three murdered girls,"

"We know it's a demon?"

"Pretty sure. We couldn't find out a lot, but the bodies were hollowed out, have to wait till tomorrow for the Autopsy reports." Willow replied, looking up from the book that was laid out in front of her. When she'd found that the autopsies hadn't been done yet, she had moved away from the computer to more traditional research.

Things progressed in silence after that, each person concentrating on their own text. Occasionally the silence was broken by someone thinking they found something of relevance, but after a couple of hours it was clear that although there was a lot of information that could be related to the murders, they hadn't enough detail to narrow it down.

It was well past midnight when a not so usual sound broke the rooms concentrating silence. Some one was snoring, loudly. It started with a snort, then became the low nasal sound that could only be made by someone asleep in a not too comfortable position. Looking up from her book Buffy glanced over at the source of the sound, Angel.

"Guess someone's up past his bedtime" Faith commented with a yawn, from her place snuggled up to Robin.

"Not the only one, obviously." Gunn retorted, Angel's abrupt snorting had woken him from a more inaudible slumber.

"I think its time we called it a night, guys. We're not getting any where fast with this." Buffy put in as she uncurled herself from the couch. Stretching she tried to un-crick her stiff back.

"Think we should wake him?" Willow asked as she too stood and stretched.

"He'll have one hell of a bad back tomorrow if we don't, Red."

Buffy being closest, she lent over and shook Angel gently. It took a few attempts but Angel eventually came awake with a start.

"Wha...?"

"Hey sleepy head, time for you to get your ass to bed." Faith called over Buffy's shoulder.

Angel staggered to his feet and slowly followed the others up the stairs leaving the couch to Gunn.

After they had all said their goodnights Angel collapsed into his bed and was asleep before his head hit the pillow. His last conscious thought was that it had been a really long day.

The world had changed so much since the last time it was needed. Now the humans were more numerous, and they were more curious. Before they had feared the shadows, now they explored them. It didn't like having its work disturbed.

It knew from past experience that it had to stay away from humans unless it was doing the task for IT. So now that its dumping ground for the waste left over from the task had been discovered, it had to find a new one. This would take time, but time was of the essence.

IT was angry, IT needed feeding, but it couldn't feed IT because it was looking for a new dumping ground.

It wasn't used to being frustrated, but that's what it was.

From the shadows, it watched as the humans in strange white clothes, crawled all over its dumping ground. Had it had a voice, it would have huffed at the inconvenience, had it had a face it would be scowling. It had neither, but had a passer by been looking and had the ability to see shadows within shadows, they would have sworn the Shadows at the mouth of that alley looked indignant.