This chapter is going to be a little short too. It was either that, or turn the next few chapters into one long chapter, and I just didn't feel the need. Enjoy.

"Wh-what is going on?" Angel stammered quietly.

Buffy looked lost. She was staring at Spike, torn between joy and heartbreak. She hadn't even heard Angel.

"We need to talk," Jake replied. "Somewhere alot less public than this..."

"How bout you put away your little knife, mate. Then we'll have nice little sitdown."

Jake grinned that same half-crazed grin he wore before unloading on the security force.

"You must be Spike. Sorry hoss, I'll drop the blade when you're buddy holsters them pistols."

Jake's eyes traveled from the platinum blonde back to the figure that had two Desert Eagles leveled at him.

"You don't seem to be in the position to do any sort of bargaining," was the Brit's clipped reply.

Jake cursed himself quietly. Was this the only way? He stared back into the man's eyes. Metallic blue meeting metallic blue. 'Let's see what the ol' man's got', he thought. With a simple movement of his arm, Jake launched the dagger across the room. Even with his heightened senses, Angel barely caught a glimpse of the blade before it landed home... wedged two inches deep into the barrel of one of Wesley's guns. The force ripped the pistol from the man's hand before he had time to react. Wesley and Angel looked stunned. They turned back to the figure that had somehow managed to wedge a steel knife through a gun barrel. They saw two more pistols staring back them.

"I reckon I just upped the ante boys."

"Everybody! Drop your weapons! We're not here for a fight, dammit!" Buffy railed.

Angel slowly brought his sword to his side, but neither Wesley nor Jake budged. Father and son eyed one another closely. Wesley didn't know what to make of this man. He certainly wasn't human. No human could move that fast or throw an object with that much force. He wasn't a vampire. He could not have simply walked off sunlit street. That meant he was a demon. And bullets could kill demons easily enough.

"Looks like we've got a bit of a Mexican stand-off here," Jake rasped.

"Shall we?" Wesley quipped, finger resting on the trigger.

"No time, Pop."

Slowly, Jake lowered his pistols to the side. He noticed the look of surprise in Wesley's eyes. Had he just called him Pop? 'Dammit', he thought. He didn't need to reveal that much to the man. They needed to get the hell out of this lobby.

"C'mon English. Now ain't the time for shoot first, ask later."

Jake's focus shifted to the black man with the big axe. It was still raised, in a defensive position. Charles Gunn. The streetfighter was now trying to mediate. As if on cue, Wesley lowered his pistol. However, his stare never left the man before him.

"We can talk upstairs," Angel replied. He was speaking directly to Buffy, trying to mask the swirling pool of emotion that was rippling through his body.

The atmosphere in Angel's office was tense. The Rome faction stood pensively together, a good twenty feet away from Angel and his co-workers. Giles, the voice of reason, hadn't spoken a single word. He didn't think he could. He had caught Wesley staring menacingly at him from across the room. Who was this man? The Wesley he had known had been stiff and proper. A bumbling school boy forced into the real world. This man was different. He looked... broken. He had heard Jake's story, but he still hadn't fully believed it. Now he did. The man staring across the room was dangerous... deadly. And he would no doubt kill Giles, if the notion possessed him to do so.

In the middle of the room, Buffy and Jake stood side by side. Buffy continued to steal glances toward Spike, whose eyes were trying to burrow down into her soul. Jake's eyes were locked with Angel's. He wanted so bad to speak with his father, to tell him how brave he was... how much he loved him. But he couldn't. This Wesley Wyndam-Price was not a father. And after tonight, would probably never be one.

"You say you're here to help stop an apocalypse, huh," Angel broke the silence.

"That's right. We figured you boys might need a little hand takin' on somethin' this big," Jake replied. Angel's brow furrowed a bit.

"Well, who the hell are you?"

"He a friend Angel," Buffy cut in. She didn't know how far Jake wanted to get into the story. Besides, Angel knew Buffy. He knew she wouldn't bring someone here that she didn't fully trust herself. But the look in Angel's eyes betrayed that thought.

"Look, the name's Jake. I'm here to tell you a story. A story about the end of this world. The end of this world. And I've got a message too. From someone you know pretty well. Says she's been watchin', and you still can't plan worth a damn."

Angel's jaw dropped. He searched for the words, but they wouldn't come. He knew who this man was talking about. And it sounded like something she would say. But how? How did this... guy know her. How did he know where or even who she was? Finally, he let out a short, shocked reply.

"Cordelia."

"Bingo. I'm here to straighten this whole matter out. It's gonna be a whole helluva lot worse than you thought it would."

Suddenly, the conversation was interrupted when the door to Angel's office flew open.

"What in the name of Neil Diamond is going on around here!"

Jake turned to see the brightly dressed green demon bursting into the office in pure diva style. Krevlorneswath. The Empath.

"I mean, first the alarm sounds, then there's gun fire. Are we under attack..."

Lorne cut his shrill remark off when he noticed the group of people to his far left against the window. He then noticed the slender blonde and the man beside her standing in the middle of the office. His eyes went wide with shock. This guy's aura was off the charts! He knew the blonde had to be the Slayer of Angelcakes' heart. This did not bode well. Suddenly, there was a sharp intake of breath from the group by the window. Puzzled, Lorne turned to the door as Illyria limped in. She was still badly bruised from the beating she had taken from Hamilton. Even in a limp, she seemed to stride majestically into the center of the room.

Jake was frozen in his boots for a split second. Everything seemed to slow down as he watched... it enter the office. He could suddenly feel his heart pick up pace. Most people he knew said there blood would turn cold if they ever came face to face with Illyria. Not Jake. He could feel the fire burning inside him. Hatred and rage began to well in the back of his throat, and it was all he could do to swallow their metallic taste. Illyria made her way to the center of the room. She stopped right in front of him, merely feet away from the man.

"Your body warms. This one is lusting after me."

Angel had to fight back a laugh. Jake didn't even crack a smile.

"Oh believe me," Jake rasped through gritted teeth. "It ain't lust."

Before anyone could move, Jake's hand was beneath his duster. He whipped out a single pistol and leveled it right at Illyria and pulled the trigger.