Ollen70: I'd like to give an enormous thank-you' to Christina Brown for her e-mail, and lonely Brit and littlesoprano for their reviews. I wasn't really expecting anybody to read this at all, because I didn't think I did a very good job with it, but I'm really glad that you guys like it thus far. Your comments help me beyond belief.

Disclaimer: The premise of Angel and the characters contained therein are the property of their respective owners. No money is being made from this story.

Chapter 2

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Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will
To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.

Alfred, Lord Tennyson

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The small building she entered was relatively empty. It was a dim place, decorated with hangings and rustic mementos of human history that Wesley had once called nostalgic.' On a stool, surrounded by many oddly shaped vessels for liquid sat the woman Illyria sought.

So, he sent you to get me too. Eve's speech was untidy, laced with a great deal of the poison Wesley had been so fond of. She listed irregularly on the stool, exhibiting the unlikely and often amazing human propensity for balance. Go way. Wouldn' matter if you kill me, an'way.

Illyria surveyed the woman for a long moment. Humans were so sickening, with their petty weaknesses and far-too-frequent descents into utter shame. In this, Wesley had not been an exception, but she had deemed him worthy of forgiveness for it. That was a privilege she had no intention of extending to anyone else; least of all this pitiful creature, this thing that had once been in league with the very evil who had robbed her of her guide.

You and I have business with one another.

Angel really doesn't do his own dirty work any more, does he? These words were clearer, and Illyria questioned at once how much of Eve's stupor was feigned. Or self-induced. If he wanted me dead, he had the opportunity once already. He must be getting soft.

Angel is gone; the others with him. I have not yet seen the green daemon, but if he is not living, then you and I are but the last who still live.

What, you think that makes me sad or something? You come here to reminisce? Well, guess what? She leaned close and Illyria discovered that her taste in the liquid poison made her breath a good deal less agreeable than Wesley's, You and I aren't buddies. You don't even have any powers now, so I suggest you get lost. Understand?

There are a great many things in this world that are now unclear to me. This situation is not one of them. I have business with you, and you will come with me to see it fulfilled.

Eve sneered, And just how do you plan to pull that off?

Catching the woman by the wrist was simple, as the liquid had slowed her reflexes to an even more deplorable rate. She was no match for Illyria. Pulling her bodily from the stool was easier still. Since the establishment was not meant for all types of mortals - elitist, Wesley would have called it - many of them cast her disapproving glances as she dragged the staggering Eve in her wake, but it mattered little. It was very likely they cared more about her unique appearance than about Eve's fate. Human opinions were less than irrelevant.

Getting Eve from her sanctum out into the streets and through the rain was not a difficult feat. Though Illyria's power was faded, a shadow of what it once was, she had more than enough left - even after the battle- to be more formidable than any other creature living. Eve could not refuse her anything.

She could - and did - talk a great deal, reminding Illyria of the beginning of her reign, all those eons ago, when the human race had risen. She had found it peculiar, the ceaseless noise they seemed so intent on creating. Eve apparently had not risen above that inclination. She blubbered from their departure until they reached the hotel.

Why did you bring me here? The red-haired woman sputtered. We're not safe anywhere. The senior partners will find us...

You are mistaken, Illyria told her calmly, watching annoyance taint Eve's proud features.

What would you know? I was their liaison. I know the senior partners better than anyone else on earth. I know what they'll do to us. What they'll do to that bastard, Angel.

You are wrong. Eve's face mottled at this. The senior partners have risen in power greatly, but they are by no means omniscient. Time was my sky, my earth, the warp and weft on my loom, but I did not create it any more than I set the pattern. Neither do the senior partners. Angel believed that they did, and he took that belief with him into eternity. In speaking, Illyria found that the overpowering sense of incompleteness only grew. What she had lost was never becoming less of a burden. Eve only snorted derisively.

So Angel's dead. Good.

You take joy in death?

Eve stiffened at this, then appeared to notice the forms of Wesley and Gunn for the first time. Before leaving, Illyria had covered Wesley up to his face in a soft blanket, granting herself the illusion of his comfort.

What are you doing? Why are you keeping it here? Eve pulled away and covered her mouth in what Illyria recognized as disgust. It was an emotion better reserved for more important things, and certainly had no business being used in reference to her guide.

You insult him in my presence?

No, no... The woman held up her hands and backed away. It's just that... well, it's gonna start to stink... Again her brow creased and her nose wrinkled.

Illyria didn't understand. She breathed in deeply over Wesley's still form. No more than the rest of you mortals do already.

He'll start to rot. When Illyria only cocked her head, Eve sighed. Small creatures will start to eat his body, until he decays.

They would not dare.

No, see, you don't understand...

I understand that you did not appreciate his worth, and now he is dead. I understand that you had no love for any of them, and yet you are the only one left. You will stay with me, fallen servant of my enemies, though it is more than you rightly deserve. If you do not do so, or speak ill of him again, you will have much to fear.

Just don't ask me to do the same for Angel. Eve looked at her hands and again Illyria watched the expression shift. This time, it was sorrow and confusion that clouded the face before her, mixed with more than a little rage. That bastard got Lindsay killed.

Each took their own chance. None can live forever - Lindsay knew this.

Well, either way, he's dead.

And do you not wish that his killers suffer for what they have done? For what they have taken from you? Illyria studied the woman before her more carefully now. Everything in this creature's next few actions would tell her what she needed to know.

I have every reason to believe that Angel killed Lindsay. There was a note of disbelief in her tone, and Illyria clung to it.

And yet you do not. You blame Them for his death, as well you should. They have robbed you because of your love for the long-haired belligerent one. Should they not be made to pay?

Even you can't fight them. They'd destroy you. The sneering callousness was back, but Illyria only smiled coldly in reply. How little this woman knew.

I will, just the same. And you will fight with me.

You're crazy. You're absolutely crazy. Eve sat down on the couch and crossed her arms over her chest in the human portrayal of defiance. If it was meant to be threatening, it was a feeble gesture. One smooth movement, and the woman was off the velvet cushions and in Illyria's arms, being carried forcefully from the room.

Wait! Wait...

Illyria paused for a moment, and Eve caught her breath.

We really should do something about the bodies.

What suggestion do you offer?

Ollen70: I'm thinking this might end up being longer than three chapters, but I'm not sure. When I started, I'd meant for it to be a one-shot, but that apparently isn't gonna happen. Anyway, thanks to everyone who took the time to read it. Hopefully, more will be coming soon.