Chapter 4.

SOMEWHERE BETWEEN LOS ANGELES AND SUNNYDALE
(JUNE 23, 1999)

It had been an eventful two years. But, not always pleasant.

For starters; while preventing the Harvest had definitely been a good thing, it had nonetheless resulted in a gang war for succession. A gang war between the Master's remaining loyalists. . .and a group of anarchs led by Angel's own childer; Spike and Drusilla. The fighting got so bad, Angel had seen no other way to stop it (before innocent by-standers started getting killed) than to allow Riley Finn's recondos to capture Spike for neuro-surgical implantation of a behavior-modifying microchip!

Then, there had been the relatively small street gang possessed by African hyena spirits. While Alison had narrowly averted Prinicpal Flutie's death at their hands (and jaws), she had failed to keep Xander from being seduced into their ranks. Nor had she and Giles been able to exorcise them before Xander had escaped into the local sewer system. The hyena spirit still controlling him.

It was down there that he eventually crossed paths with Drusilla; becoming her ally of convenience (among other things). And, it had therefore broken both Angel's heart and Willow's when those two had had to be sacrificed to shut Acathla's big mouth!

Fortunately, for Willow, Jesse McNally was still alive to console her. Yet, Angel had no such luxury! At least; not under the terms of his re-ensoulment curse. He had said as much to Cordelia Chase, after she had tried to prove just how grateful she really was to be rescued by him from a pair of Dr. Frankenstein "wanna-be's."

One display of his "game face" (as Xander had been the first to dub it) was all it took to permanently discourage Cordelia from ever seeking his affections, again.

The proverbial last straw had come this past month, when Mayor Wilkins had turned himself into a giant snake-demon during graduation ceremonies at Sunnydale High. Only to be destroyed by mystical lightning from something called the Glove of Myneghon, worn by Wilkins' latest political rival; Ted Buchanan!

Jenny Calendar had been a good person. A self-professed "techno-pagan" who had worked at Sunnydale as a computer science teacher. Yet, in spite of her love for cybernetics, she had still managed to pique a romantic interest in the bookwormish Giles. He had proven too shy for his own good, however, and lost her to the much more out-going "telemarketer." Especially, after she began helping him to campaign for mayor opposite the incumbent Wilkins! It was when she had discovered "Ted's" true origin, however, and had threatened to 'out' him to the press if he did not withdraw from the mayoral race voluntarily, that he had snapped her neck.

And, it was in the aftermath of that decisive battle that Whistler reappeared to Angel (who was hiding out in the sewers now that Wilkins' mystically induced eclipse had faded away).

"You did good, here, Angel-baby. Real good! But, now, it's time to move back home."

Angel shook his head: "I beg your pardon?"

"You're needed back in L.A. Somethin' really big is startin' to stir, there! And, it's got the PTB's a little anxious."

"But, what about my work here?"

"All finished! You helped everybody over the roughest spots. Now, the rest is up to them. If it helps you to know? Acting Mayor Finch will recruit your buddy, Giles, as _his_ deputy mayor! Cordelia heads for Hollywood and becomes a big movie star. And Jesse and Willow become engaged the moment they graduate from college. . .out of state!"

Angel half-smiled with relief: "So, what's my _new_ job going to entail?"

"I'll tell you when you get there."

* * * * *

At that same moment, in Beverly Hills, nightclub owner Esteban Reyes was being introduced to the new magic act that would head-line in his main room.

"Senor Reyes?" the Newcomer with the false goatee rhetorically asked: "I'm Duncan Shane. And this is my lovely assistant, Sylvia."

"My friends call me 'Syl,' for short," the statuesque blonde added.

Reyes ogled her from head to foot, and back again, with complete shamelessness.

"Could I be one of those friends?" he asked her with a slightly exaggerated pseudo-Cuban accent.

Syl reached toward the left cheek of his face, as if to caress it with her right hand. Only for a playing card to appear in it at the last second!

"Does this give you a hint?" she replied (with delightful coyness), as she showed him the Two of Hearts.

* * * * *

UCLA MEDICAL CENTER
(JULY 4, 1999)

Dr. Warren Michaels clicked on his digital audio recorder and began to speak.

"As happened last year, around this same time, Patient Summers has regained some lucidity. Prior to that, she has frequently ranted and raved about the Master and certain other. . .malevolent entities. . .trying to end the world from Sunnydale, California. A place she has obviously never been to and, yet, has given uncannily accurate descriptions of! This raises the question: is her condition making her subconsciously sensitive to the goings-on in a parallel universe?"

"I'll contact the Council, tomorrow, and see if they have any records, or have done any research, about similar psychic links."

* * * * *

ANGEL INVESTIGATIONS
(AUGUST 1, 1999)

"Yes, Miss?" said the thin, dark-haired man (in an undeniably Irish brogue): "What I can do for ya?"

"Is this the place that was advertising for an administrative assistant?" asked the young girl with shoulder-length, wavy black hair.

"That it is. I'm Allen Doyle. And, this here is m' partner. . ."

"Just call me 'Angel,' " said Angel: "And, you are. . .?"

"Jill. Jill Molaskey."

The disparate trio shook hands with each other.

"So, what do you want to know about me?" Jill asked.

Angel smiled (which Doyle privately regarded as a minor miracle).

"Well, your resume pretty much speaks for itself. Between that and the fact you were the _only_ person to answer our ad, I'd say you're pretty much hired!"

"Really?" Jill exclaimed, just barely restraining herself from outright squealing in glee.

Angel nodded, adding: "The pay will initially be a little unpredictable. And the precise nature of our investigations will be. . .somewhat unconventional."

Jill could not resist grinning: "My mom and I used to live across the street from a Newcomer police detective. I'm pretty much used to unconventional!"

Angel looked at Doyle before looking back at her and replying: "We'll see about that."

* * * * *

KING O' CLUBS,

BEVERLY HILLS, CAL.

(SEPT. 24, 1999)

Duncan Shane beamed at the audience as he locked Sylvia into a red-and-black box sitting atop a table with a glass surface. Upon showing off all sides to the night club's audience, he smiled at them and said:

"Behold! The debut of the illusion I call. . .'Chainsawing In Thirds!' "

Whereupon, he pulled on the start cord of a gasoline-powered chainsaw he had bought in a hardware store that very afternoon. And, even over the din of it, his Tenctonese ear holes could pick up the nervous "ooh's" and "ah's" from the audience as he worked the blade of the chainsaw through the section where his assistant's neck should be. Followed by the section where her waist should be!

While all that was going on, Esteban Reyes was in his sound-proofed private office, working on the accounts.

"Hola, Estevanico."

Reyes looked up with a start. Only one person had ever called him that. . .and she was dead.

"Hey!" he exclaimed when he saw who it was: "Who let you in here? And, how'd you learn that nickname?"

Meanwhile, back on stage, Duncan Shane was about to freak out the audience.

"BEHOLD!"

He picked up all three sections of the box, en masse. Then, he dropped them to the floor of the stage! This naturally prompted a few of the women in the audience to scream in pure reflex. Just before noticing that nothing was inside any of them! Then, the house lights went off for a moment, so that a spotlight could shine. . .

. . .on Sylvia. Standing at the doors to the kitchen, in her semi-tuxedo and tails, perfectly unharmed.

The audience stood and applauded. So loudly, that only the kitchen staff initially heard the scream.

"Someone call the police! Mr. Reyes has been murdered!"

tbc