Back again. Appreciate the reviews. This story is really taking alot so far, I'm glad you guys have enjoyed it thus far. This my first real fan fiction, so it has indeed been a treat.

Angel stood staring out his window of special glass, watching as the sunset slowly faded away. He couldn't shake the feeling that he had just sent every one he knew and loved, marching blindly to their own deaths. As the lights of Los Angeles began to shine brighter against the expanding darkness, no doubt everyone was well on their way. No doubt Spike had taken off with the Viper. Spike and Buffy. Seeing her had been perhaps the biggest shock of the day. And it had indeed been a shocking day. He had never really believed Buffy had felt for Spike. He was still waiting on her to simmer or bake or whatever the hell she had told him that night in Sunnydale. He had flown halfway across the world to find her, only she had found him. But it wasn't him she was after. The makeout session on the floor of his office had proven that. In that moment, Angel had conceded. He would never again know her touch. Funny, as much as it hurt, he had expected alot worse. Maybe he truly was in love with Cordelia. Maybe it was Nina. For the life, or rather unlife, of him he could not piece together a rational thought.

"Been awful quiet over there," came the drawl from behind him.

Angel turned to see the figure sitting on the corner of his desk, carelessly eyeing the pistol in his hand. Angel had seen alot in over two centuries of walking this world, but he had never met someone who was from the future. He still had a hard time believing the man's claim. But the man said he was sent by Cordelia. He had gained the trust of Buffy's friends, something even Angel hadn't accomplished while the two were on 'good terms'.

"So... you're really from the future, huh?"

"Sure 'nough," Jake replied, holstering the pistol and finally locking eyes with the vampire. "And yeah, she's still watchin' you."

"I didn't ask."

"Didn't have to. It's written all over yer face."

Angel took a few steps closer to the man sitting on the desk, coming with striking distance.

"What's going to happen... tonight?"

Jake straightened up, pulled himself to his feet, and let an overdue breath.

"Tonight... tonight is where the hammer finally comes down. The Powers pulled one helluva a big string to set this stage. It's the ultimate good against the ultimate evil, winner takes the whole enchilada."

"And Illyria?"

"She's gonna turn the tide. She'll take down both sides."

"You know I can't let you kill her... she's... she's..."

"There is no 'she' anymore Angel. There's only 'it'. And this isn't yer call Champ... it's theirs." Jake replied, pointing to the ceiling. Angel simply stared back at the man. He didn't trust Illyria. He couldn't. But he couldn't sit back and watch her executed either. No matter who wanted it done.

"If you kill her, you'll be the next," Angel growled, taking another step towards the man. Jake responded by taking a step towards Angel, leaving the two merely inches apart.

"Don't worry, when I kill her, I'm stampin' myself out."

Suddenly, the face to face confrontation was interrupted when Angel's office door was kicked open. Abused for most of the day, the door finally snapped at its hinges and crashed a few feet from the doorway.

"Now this is truly a disappointment. I was certain that the cowboy would be dead."

"Hamilton" came the clenched reply of both men.

The ride to Vail's mansion had been one of silence. Willow could feel the contempt directed towards her as Wesley pulled the 4 Runner to a stop about a block away from their destination. The man at the wheel was not the same Wesley she had known in Sunnydale. He wasn't even the same man she had met a little over a year ago in Los Angeles. This man was ragged, rough around the edges, and very dangerous.

"W-Wesley... I never really got a chance to a-apolo..."

"There's no need," came the biting reply.

"But there is... i-if I had o-only..."

"What Willow! What would you have done! Go against the all-knowing Rupert Giles' judgment that we were evil and help us? I think not."

"But Wesley, J-Jake... your son... he..."

Wesley slammed his fist across the hood of the vehicle, leaving behind a good sized dent. He turned to face Willow. What she saw terrified her. There was nothing in his eyes but hatred. Even the air he exhaled seemed to be laced with venom.

"Do NOT call him that again! I have no son... and I will not allow you or Lorne or Christ himself to convince me otherwise."

"B-but..."

"Enough! We're here to do a job Willow, that's all. I'd prefer it if we simply do that job and meet the others in the alley. I have no need for petty conversation..."

With that, Wesley turned and began to make his way up the grassy embankment to Vail's front door. Illyria, surprisingly silent, followed suit. Willow, shocked to her very core at the man's outburst, grudgingly brought up the rear.

"Nice car," Buffy remarked dryly as Spike continued to speed along the streets of Los Angeles in Angel's Viper.

"Yeah well... company perks and all," was the reply.

"Listen Spike, about..."

"No need, luv. No need to tap dance across my undead heart again."

Buffy was taken aback. After everything that happened, he still did not believe her. Of course, she hadn't really given him a reason to either.

"Spike... I wanted to tell you... that... I... I never stopped thinking about you..."

"Funny, I seem to recall in Rome you bein' wobbly in the knees for a certain wanker by the name of Immortal."

"It was just a... phase..."

"Ah, a phase. And I suppose I was just a bloody fad?"

"No! Geez... what's with vampires and the guilt trip! I'm trying to tell you that you're still in my heart Spike, but you just rattle on and on..."

She was cut off as the car came to a screeching halt. Before she could protest, she found herself locked into a deep kiss with the driver of said car.

Lindsey thrust the broadsword home, impaling the demon that had stood before him. Pulling his sword free, he watched as the demon fell limp to the floor. Looking around, the floor was littered with demons. Lindsey had never felt so alive. He wasn't caught up in the joy of the kill. It was the idea that he may have finally found his niche in life. He and Angel would never see eye to eye, but he owed the Senior Partners some major payback. If he had to play the white hat to get it, well, that was just part of the game.

"One helluva a mess. Glad I'm not on clean up duty."

"Yeah... funny thing about blood. You can always wash it off," came the reply of the green demon behind him. The whole display had left Lorne feeling sick to his stomach. He had seen enough bloodshed for his time. He longed for the days of his bar, his Sea Breeze, and a good Aretha Franklin tune.

"So I take it you guys trust me?"

"Nobody trusts you Lindsey."

"Well... I could sing for you?"

Lorne stared back at the man with hard eyes.

"Waste of time."

Without warning, Lorne pulled the small automatic pistol that had been concealed inside his jacket. He leveled it at Lindsey's shocked face and pulled the trigger. The demon behind the ex-lawyer took the bullet right between the eyes, slumped backwards, and fell to the floor. Lindsey did a double take, turned back to Lorne, and flashed a smile.

"Nice shot."

"Let's go," was the reply.

Cyvus Vail did not know what to make of the three figures before him. He had figured Wesley Wyndam-Pryce to be a man who would betray Angel. Vail was responsible for Wesley regaining his memories. Those memories had driven the man down a path of self-destruction and alcohol. Beaten and broken, Wesley Wyndam-Pryce was a man with nothing to lose. Men like that were easy to sway when power was involved. And Cyvus Vail wielded an ungodly amount of power. But it seemed Mr. Pryce had been a disappointment. Instead, he was suspended motionless across the room, finger gripping a trigger that he had been too slow to pull.

Vail paid little attention to the Old One. He had no need to fear her anymore. Mr. Pryce had conveniently drained her power. She was of no consequence to him, but he enjoyed the thought that he could boast of killing an Old One. The red head that was suspended next to her was who he was truly intrigued with. He had heard of this one, through circles and rumors. She was a very powerful Wicca. Perhaps the most powerful in quite sometime. She could be quite a match for the old warlock. But she was fighting an inner battle as well as an outer battle. Vail could sense the darkness that still ran through her veins. She couldn't fully control her own powers, and Vail exploited the weakness to its full extent. Even now, he could see the veins around her eyes begin to darken, her eyes slowly begin to fill up with pools of deep black. He would let his dark magic soak into her. She would kill the two she had come with, and then she would make for a formidable protégé. Cyvus Vail would soon be an even greater force to reckon with.

"Well Mr. Pryce... I have enjoyed the company. But as you can tell, your friend is beginning to feel the strain of darkness tugging at her very soul. Soon, she'll kill you with her own hands."

Willow heard the cackling wizard across the room and it made her stomach turn. She couldn't speak, but in her mind she wanted to scream. She could feel it coming on. The unbridled power that dark magic unleashed inside of her. She tried to ground herself. Tried to fight the tide of darkness coming over her. But it was too much. Suddenly, she fell to the ground with a thud. Panicked, she looked around. Wesley and Illyria had both fallen as well. Willow felt the darkness rush out of her body, replaced by calm. Bewildered, she looked across the room. The decrepit wizard who had once stood before her was now slumping to his knees. He pitched forward face first, tubes ripping from his machine and splattering beside him lifeless body. She looked behind the body and saw a figure walking towards her, a sword in hand.

"What's the deal Red? Nobody can give me a call to let me know the apocalypse is on its way?"

Faith.