Interstate Five
On the Bus

I'm getting closer, it's getting stronger. I can feel it, deep within me. It's so strange, this new power of mine. I wonder when I acquired it? How long have I had it, and not realized it? Before I went bad? After? There's no way of knowing now.

Willow pulled out her laptop, to pass the time, she played Solitaire, FreeCell, Hearts, and Minesweeper. She couldn't go online, because there was no jack. She also went through the many files on her computer.

So much information, too bad none of it will help us, with this mission, or with the First.

She looked at all the pictures she had scanned in. They were all from happier times. Many of her and Tara, Buffy and Riley, her and Oz, Xander and Cordelia, and he and Anya, Yet none of Buffy and Spike or Angel, camera's couldn't pick them up, just like mirrors.

San Francisco

Once the bus stopped in San Francisco only about a half an hour after she got on, she got off, to look for a city bus. She instinctively knew that her search was almost over; the source of the power was here, in this city, somewhere. She chose a seat in the very back corner of the bus, put her stuff on the seat next to her, trying to discourage people from sitting there. She pulled out Her crystal, and got to work. Here was the tricky part, she needed to concentrate her hardest or it wouldn't work. The crystal was spelled to sense magical power. Tara had helped her cast the spell; Giles had found it. Every once in awhile, after great use, she needed to recast it, but that was easy for her, now. If she hadn't been concentrating, she would have noticed how packed the bus became; it was rush hour, and people were rushing home to put fod on the table.

"Excuse me, could I sit here?" Willow was shaken out of her concentration. The crystal glowed a bright, bright blue, brighter than Willow had ever seen it, then it winked out, her lost concentration the cause. She looked up at the woman looking expectantly down at her.

"Huh? What? Oh, yeah sure!" She quickly moved her bag from the seat into her lap, covering her crystal.

"What were you doing?" the woman asked.

Willow frowned inwardly, "What do you mean?" Willow asked, trying to distract the woman.

"You were doing magic. I saw your crystal glow, then fizzle out. What were you doing?"

"Yeah...I was doing magick," she stalled.

"Were you searching for something?" she asked, then laughed at herself, her eagerness. "Sorry, I'm Paige Matthews."

"You promise you won't laugh when I tell you? People are so close minded about the supernatural," she muttered, more to herself than to Paige Matthews.

"Oh! I know! It's really annoying!"

"Oh, are you a witch, or are you a lesser demon/human cross?" Willow asked.

"A demon! Me? Oh God no! We fight demons! Oh, Shit! I wasn't supposed to tell you that," she sounded embarrassed.

"Don't worry, I won't tell anyone, well, only my friends, they won't tell. I promise."

"Oh, don't tell them, then everyone would be in danger, mostly from exposure."

"De ja vu, all over again," she laughed, "Sorry, my friend has one of those secret identities."

Paige nodded, "It makes life really hard. My boss is starting to think my family is the most accident prone, with all of the 'family emergencies' we have."

"Oh, I've never really had to worry. I don't work, Xander does, but he's not really big help. Buffy's worked, but she almost got fired because of her calling."

"Yeah, I'm lucky I still have a job! So, what were you doing with the crystal?"

"Well, I was scrying, of sorts. It's a long story."

"That's alright, this bus ride is normally so boring."

"Ok, if you insist!" So Willow gave the woman the shortened version of why she was in town, minus the slayer and her recent time being evil.

"Wow, you've had quite a time!" Paige was impressed, "You followed a feeling of power all the way from home?"

"That isn't even half of it!"

"Oh, this is my stop," she said, standing. Then she turned back to Willow, "Come meet my sisters."

"Uh, ok." They were walking down the street, when Willow stopped dead in her tracks.

"What's wrong?" Paige asked, worried by the look on the woman's face.

"T…Th…That… that car!" she said, pointing to a car parked on the opposite side of the street, across form the Halliwell house.

"It's a nice car," Paige said, wonder what her deal was.

"I'll be right in, Ok?"

"Yeah, sure," she looked at the woman a moment, before heading up the walk.

Willow walked towards the car, not totally sure what she was seeing, if it was really there or not. Well, Paige noticed it, so it must be real, but its it his? She checked out the license plate, she couldn't remember if it matched or not, but she was pretty sure it did.

Cole's Apartment
Earlier That Day

"He's not here, he hasn't been here in quite some time," Angel stated. He was most of the time right about these things.

"Angel, look at this picture. Who are these people?"

"Cole, and… Phoebe. Phoebe Halliwell."

Cordelia searched his desk, and quickly found an address book. She thumbed through, until she found what she was looking for, "Here she is. Phoebe Halliwell," she pointed out the information to Angel, including the woman's home and work addresses.

"Ok, let's go," Angel said, as she copied down the address.

"Angel, its day. You can't go out."

"Damn!" He hated to be caged when he was so close to what he was looking for.

"We'll just wait until the sun goes down. Unless you want to chance it?"

"No, because once we get there, I won't be able to get out. I'll scare the hell out of her and her sister."

"So we'll wait here, until afternoon. Then we can go. That's good, I'm exhuasted!"

"You slept in the car on the way here."

"Do you know how uncomfortable those seats are to sleep on? I didn't think so. Do you want the couch, or the bed? Is it wrong for us to stay here?"

"I don't think anyone's been here in a while. I don't care."

"Well, you know this guy, on the off chance he comes home while we're here, you take bed, I get couch."

"Suit yourself."

Later

"Cordy, I can't wait any longer. I'll just chance it, and I'll stay in the car until dusk."

"Ok, Mr. Smoking Sneakers."

"Stop calling me mister, it makes me feel old."

"Excuse me! You are old! About 300 years old, right!"

"247."