Coincidence?

Disclaimer: Well, what can I say that I haven't already said? Makes no difference, I still don't own anything.

Summary: Searching for answers.

Reviews: Again, what can I say? You guys have all been so awesome. The response to this fic has been overwhelming. So yes, please. Keep feeding the muse. Readers rock but Reviewers RULE!!

Ms. Selly: You silver-tongued sweet-talker you. No one as said anything so nice to me in ages. You made my day. Thank you. (And I worked so hard to hide my true identity.) ;-) Snickerdoodle Pox? Okay, hope you realize that now I really, really want to know.

A/N: There aren't really any notes for this one. So just read it and let me know what you think. Thanks.

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Angel woke with a start as Cordelia's patented shriek echoed throughout the hotel.

"Angel! Get your undead ass down here!" Her shrill voice sliced through the vampire's aching brain. Lying quietly for a moment, Angel tried to summon enough energy leave the comfortable mattress and face his friends. His enhanced senses told him without a doubt that everyone was in attendance. Gunn, Fred, Wesley and, of course, Cordelia were all downstairs in the lobby. With a weary groan, he tried to recall the last time he got a full night's (or day's for that matter) sleep. Rolling off the bed, he grabbed for his pants. Sliding a shirt on, he ran a careless hand through his hair. He knew his appearance did not come close to the standard everyone knew he liked to keep but at this point he really didn't care.

Downstairs, he ignored the shocked expressions at his appearance. Lumbering to a stop in front of Cordy, he scrubbed a hand down his haggard face.

"What is the problem?" He asked, too tired to even glare.

The Seer waved a well-manicured hand toward the paintings. "What are these portraits of Spike doing here? I thought he was gone. Don't even tell me that homicidal maniac is back. Jeeze, doesn't anyone stay dead when you kill them?" She still held a grudge from several years ago when Spike had paid a bloody visit searching for a ring.

"We bought them yesterday. Dawn saw them in a gallery. We have to find out who painted them and why. It's important to Dawn and Buffy." Angel explained. He moved into the kitchen and fixed himself a mug of blood for breakfast. He sighed as he noticed the coffee maker was empty. While his blood heated in the microwave, he started another pot of coffee. It was the one human beverage he felt the need to consume.

Cordy started to follow, her mouth open to ask more questions but Wesley put a hand on her arm. She glared at him but he just shook his head.

"Leave it." He requested quietly. "You know how much Spike's death affected Angel. The possibility that his Childe could be back is proving difficult for him to process." The former Watcher's blue eyes held Cordy's brown ones, silently asking her to leave their friend alone.

Cordelia looked over at her vampire and noticed again how tired he looked. She sighed. "Okay, what say you and me start the research? I'll hit the computer and you get the books. I guess we're looking for resurrections and any information we can find on that ugly necklace."

The coffee had barely finished brewing when the Summers sisters barreled through the double doors of the old hotel. They were anxious for another look at the portraits that had ruined their sleep. Dawn made a beeline for the profile portrait. It bothered her that it was unnamed. She couldn't bring herself to look at the one with the guitar. That word haunted her, reminding her of the nightmare. 'I've been abandoned.' How? She wondered. He had been gone. Dust. Hadn't he? A shiver ran through her thin body at the thought that maybe they'd left the crater a little too soon.

Buffy went into the office where Angel was sipping his steaming cup of coffee. He glanced up from his book as she entered. "Morning, Buffy." He greeted her morosely.

She plopped down into the chair in front of his desk and studied him with steady green eyes. "You too, huh?"

"Me too what?" The dark vampire asked.

"You didn't sleep much either. I kept thinking about Spike. He was gone. I'd almost gotten used to it and now…" The blonde trailed off with a feeble wave of her hand.

"No, I didn't sleep well either." It was all he was going to admit to. He'd never told anyone about the voice he'd heard whisper in his ear as he'd been doubled over with pain. The same pain his Childe had been suffering as he'd died. No one knew about the nightmares and the echo of the whisper that he heard nightly. The thought sent a shudder through his large frame. Gathering the shreds of his composure around him, he stood up. Taking his coffee cup with him, he motioned toward the door. "Let's take another look at them."

Buffy and Angel joined Dawn, Gunn and Fred in front of the trio of canvases prominently displayed in the lobby.

Gunn studied the portraits curiously. "So, that's Spike? Looks like a smart ass. He died saving the world? I guess that makes him okay then." He wandered into the kitchen for a cup of coffee.

Fred looped her arm around Dawn's waist. "How are you, Sweetie?" She asked the teenager with concern. She liked the teenager and they had become friends in the past two and a half months.

Dawn shrugged her shoulders. "Okay I guess. I mean, he was my best friend and he died. He thought I was still mad at him. I miss him so much. If he's back why didn't he find us?" A tear slid down her cheek as she gazed at the profile of her departed friend.

"We'll figure it out, just you see. You have the best here. They won't stop til they find him." Fred tried to comfort Dawn with a little pep talk.

Buffy planted herself in front of the larger canvas. She inspected it closely, hoping for something, anything that would give them a clue to Spike's whereabouts. She noticed a detail that had escaped her attention yesterday. The amulet wasn't on the bedside table. She stepped nearer to the painting, searching for the trinket. It wasn't there.

Angel saw her perusal of the painting. "Buffy? It there something?" His voice was deliberately bland, devoid of any shred of hope.

She stepped back, moving over to give the smaller bedroom scene the same inspection. The amulet was the only major difference. "I don't know what it means. But the amulet isn't in the big painting."

The dark vampire moved over to see for himself. "You're right." They took a few steps back so they could look at the portraits together. There were indeed subtle differences in the scenes. The most obvious was the amulet. Spike's hair was different in the smaller portrait, the roots longer and the platinum tips a little shorter than in the larger scene. There was more platinum than medium brown in the larger portrait although his curls were already running rampant over his head. It reminded Buffy forcefully of the day she'd discovered a not-quite-sane Spike in the high school basement. Obviously the larger portrait was the first of the series. The profile seemed to be the second one and the smaller bedroom scene, the third.

Dawn checked the bottom of the canvases to try and find an artist's signature. She gave a little gasp of triumph. There it was. 'Jake W.' She groaned as she realized there wasn't a last name only an initial.

"What is it, Dawnie?" Buffy asked, frowning with concern.

"He didn't put his last name. What kind of artist doesn't put his full name on his work? I mean, doesn't he want to be recognized for his talent? How are we supposed to find him if he doesn't sigh his full name?" She huffed in frustration.

Wesley glanced up from the ancient book he was studying. He'd found a text entitled 'Amulets and Other Magical Talismans'. He held a hope that he'd find the amulet listed in its many pages.

"I am planning on paying the gallery manager a visit this afternoon. I'm going to find out what the artist's name is." He spoke as if the manager would just hand over the information. One look into Wes's icy blue eyes convinced everyone that he would succeed.

Cordelia sat at the computer. The screen glowing softly as she searched the Internet for clues to the amulet, the paintings, anything that would make their investigation easier.

"Hey, Guys?" She waited until she had their attention. "Did you know that they sent an investigative team to the crater?"

"Who did, Cordy?" Buffy looked puzzled.

"Why, the U.S. Geological Survey, of course. They sent a team down to investigate the 'earthquake'." She chuckled. "They didn't find anything. It was put down as a freak of nature." She shrugged and moved on to the next search. Blithely missing the list of surveyors' names. The top of which listed Jason A. Wilson as the lead investigator.