A/N: yeah, random note: reading "Queen of the Slayers" & watching Angel will help you understand this better.

Also, PLEASE Review & let me know if there are major continuity errors, things that don't make sense, or other stuff that just seems wrong.

Thanks, bye!
-PJ

Cleveland.

Since the end of the world, the latest one, things had gotten considerably better. It hadn't been but days after the Sunnydale Hellmouth was closed, that the Cleveland one blew open. Literally. A backwave of demons, and even a few ubervamps who weren't killed in Sunnydale, came flooding out. Panic ensued, townspeople fled, but in the end Faith and her gang of Slayers took out the demons. By now, the giant whole in the middle of town had been filled in with a ridiculous amount of concrete and steel beams. Then it was repaved, as was the rest of the town. Soon everything was pretty much back to normal.

Home, sweet Hellmouth.

Faith opened the door to their new headquarters. It was an old, Victorian house that had been abandoned. They'd taken up residence here, after the resettlement of Cleveland led to the demolition of their old place. It was fine with Faith though, considering the structural damage the place had taken.

And it didn't have a big screen TV.

By now, Faith had made her way into the considerably large living room. Plopping down on one of three overly stuffed, floral patterned couches, she clicked the power button on the remote. The TV buzzed to life, and Faith immediately began to click through the channels. The ringing of a phone is what finally interrupted her steady stream of channel surfing.

Who is it at this time? Shouldn't people be off having sex or hell, even sleeping?

Faith reached over and pulled the phone off of the cradle. She clicked the 'Talk' button and put the receiver to her ear.

"Talk," Faith said bluntly to the person on the other end.

"Good evening Faith," came Giles' voice.

That explains it.

"What's up Giles? How's… Where are you?"

"Still in London, Faith."

"Right. How's it there?"

"To be quite honest, cold."

Faith laughed a little. Then she remembered that her and Giles didn't really have phone time. Something had to be up.

"So, Giles. What's the what?"

"Excuse me?"

"What's going on?"

"Ah… It's serious, Faith. A group of seers at the council… they've noticed something."

"I'm guessing it wasn't lotto numbers, eh?"

"Nothing of the sort, I'm afraid."

"Damn! Just when that jackpot was looking good."

"No, if only… But, actually Faith, it's something rather… large."

"Large?"

"Something has gathered in LA. An extremely powerful force of evil."

"How powerful?"

"Some of us at the council believe it to be an Old One."

"Old one? That's like… What is that?"

"One of the original demons."

"Guess I have some work to do, then. Does Buffy know?"

"I assume the Immortals own seers have picked up on this by now… Nevertheless, I'll be contacting her as soon as we're done."

"Ok. Well, send her my best. Tell her we've got this under control."

"Faith… Before you go, I just want you to know. Don't be afraid to ask for help. The last thing you need to do is go at this blindly. As unfathomable as it may seem, we've really no idea what we're dealing with."

"Ya know, Giles… There's something about the thought of a bunch of clueless Watchers that just doesn't surprise me."

"Very well. I'll let you know more as soon as we do. Have a good night, Faith."

"You too."

Faith hung up the phone. She looked around the room for a moment, before she stood up and headed into the kitchen. As she had expected, a group of girls were there, gossiping over a carton of ice cream.

You can put the Slayer in the girl, but you can't take the girl out of the Slayer.

"Guys. Listen up," Faith said as she approached the group. Her face was serious, and the girls could tell. They immediately stopped laughing, and put their spoons down.

"Is there something wrong, Faith," asked a Slayer. She had black hair, with a yellow strip down the front. Faith knew her as Taylor.

"I'm not sure. Giles just called though, and he said there's something going on, some kind of power. I'm leading a team, we'll be gone two—three days tops. Who's up for it?"

"Where is it," asked another Slayer. Anita?

"LA."

"LA?"

The voice that reiterated her words didn't belong to any of the Slayers before Faith. In fact, it didn't even belong to a girl. Faith spun to see Robin standing behind her. She grinned.

"Yea, Giles wants us to check it out. But I'm gonna need you to stay here and keep tabs on things while I'm gone."

"Trust me when I say, I don't mind."

"What?"

"Faith, I never thought I'd say this, but you need to watch more televison. Come with me."

Robin turned out of the kitchen and started back in the direction of the living room. Without any further interaction with the Slayers, Faith followed him. She had rounded the corner and entered the other room, just as Robin was putting down the remote. Faith took to his side and watched the television.

"What the hell is that?" Faith wondered out loud, in response to the helicopter footage being shown on the nightly news.

"That, Faith. That's LA."

Faith couldn't help but let her mouth drop open a little bit. Before her, LA was a complete scene of chaos. The city was a monster, bloody viscera spilling out and consuming it all. Fires roared through buildings, the street was cracked, and lava, actual molten lava was bubbling between the sections of asphalt.

"Giles didn't say anything about… that."

"He's in a building full of books with a bunch of old, stuffy Englishmen. Something tells me he didn't get the memo."

"Right. Well, looks like I'll need a bigger team."

Faith started out of the living room again, but Robin was quick to stop her. He shook his head and looked at her, as he would a student who'd unknowingly just done something dumb.

"What?"

"Faith. You can't go to LA—Regardless of how many girls you take with you."

"Why not?"

"For starters, the city's going to hell. Literally."

"Nothing we can't handle, Robin. We saved the world, remember? We did this."

Faith motioned in the air and Robin new what she meant. She was referring to the Slayers, and the spell Willow had done to give them their powers.

"I know. But you have no idea what's out there."

"All I need to know is how to kill it."

"You don't even have that."

"Then we'll try things the old-fashioned way." Faith curled one hand into a fist, placing it in the palm of the other.

"Faith—"

"No!" Faith cut him off harshly. Her eyes were on fire. "This is something you'll never understand. For you, it's all about planning and recon, and always knowing what you're going to do five moves before it happens. But for a Slayer, it's all about acting on your feet. Making your move as it comes to mind. It's about living and fighting in the moment—"

"And dying in it."

Faith put her hands at her side. Her eyes traced Robins features, and came to rest on his eyes. They're gazes met, and in his eyes there was a sadness, as well as anger.

"You know that better than anyone… But I'm not her. You won't lose me."

"How do I know that?"

"You'll have to take my word for it."

Robin stared away from her. He stared down at the floor, eyes tracing the grain of the wood. Then he was looking at the coffee table, and the reflection the glass top made. Then the edge of the sofa, and the strings that had been pulled lose, probably by a cat. He didn't look back at Faith until she had reached out and grabbed his hand.

"Robin. Don't worry about me. This is what I do. It's who I am"

"That's what worries me."

The Immortal was sitting a wrought iron table at the center of a massive solarium. Above him, numerous balconies and catwalks filled the air, surrounded by walls of glass. As he sat here, amongst various greenery and the song of hidden mockingbirds, he drank from a cup of steaming tea. Laid out on the table was a leather bound journal, which he was scribbling notes in. He stopped when he felt Buffy enter the room, behind him.

"Back so soon," he said, turning to face her. Behind him, the notebook rippled mystically and then disappeared.

"Why the hell didn't you tell me," Buffy said quickly. She was pissed and the last thing she wanted was to be polite. When she was a few feet from the Immortal, she stopped and crossed her arms. He merely smiled at her and stood up. His hands were out, as if to embrace her. "Stop right there. I want an answer."

The Immortal put his hands down and said, "I didn't want you to get hurt."

"I can handle myself. It's my job."

"No, you don't understand. I didn't want you to know what he'd done. I was hoping it could be dealt with, without you knowing."

"I'm missing something here, aren't I?"

"Buffy, don't you see? Angel and his team appear here, only moments after some sort of hellish creature is unleashed in the very city he used to inhabit. It's obvious that he's behind this."

"What? No… Angel wouldn't do that."

"Perhaps then, we are not dealing with Angel."

"…Angelus? No."

"You could be right. Maybe it is indeed Angel. And if so, then your fears are confirmed. He's changed, he's become corrupted by the evil that he's allied himself with."

Buffy couldn't stand the thought of it. But at the same time, it would make perfect sense. Angel was working for some very powerful evil. She took a seat at the table, and put her head in her hands.

But he's still Angel. She told herself. He wouldn't – couldn't do this.

But even so, Buffy felt as though it might be possible. A small part of her believed that it could be Angel. It made her head hurt, as thoughts rushed about her brain.

He's tried it before. What makes this different?

Buffy knew the thought wasn't hers. She knew that it couldn't be. But yet, it felt familiar. It belonged. It was right.

He's evil.

"I can't believe…" Buffy brought her head up, shaking it in disbelief. He did it. Her mind told her. And she believed it. "Why didn't I see this?"

"You can not blame yourself." The Immortal said as he sat opposite Buffy. He put a hand over hers.

"I should've known, though."

"He was your friend. Your lover. He was so much to you, Buffy. You can't be expected to loose all faith in him overnight."

I didn't.

Yes. You did.

I did? …I did.

Buffy's head hurt again. She rubbed her temple with her free hand, allowing her other one to stay beneath the Immortals. His touch was warm, and she welcomed it. A hummingbird was singing nearby.

"I'll have to fight it off. The demons."

"Don't you worry about that. I'll make sure the demons are taken care of… I think the only thing you should be worrying about is Angel."

"Angel?"

"Buffy. He has to be stopped…"

Talk about your spidey senses tingling.

The second Willow had stepped through the doors of Wolfram and Hart, she could feel the magick around her. It was more powerful than almost anything she'd come in contact with. Most of it was defensive too, the kinds of things that would prevent other, outside magicks from affecting the buldings inhabitants.

Well isn't that nifty. All of their clients are safe from any curse, hex or enchantment sent their way. Not to mention they can do your taxes…

As Willow grew nearer to the elevators, the doors opened up. Slightly amazed, Willow stepped into the elevator, the doors shutting behind her. She turned, but before she had the chance to press any sort of button, the elevator doors had opened again.

Ok. This is a little too weird.

Willow stepped out onto the hardwood floors of an enormous lobby. Across the room, stairs led to a second floor, and to her right sat a reception desk. After taking a second to take in the lobby, Willow headed over to the reception desk. The women sitting there put her headset down and smiled at Willow.

"Hi," Willow said with a little wave. "I'm looking for Angel?"

"Right behind you," the receptionist told her.

Willow looked up at a mirror behind the reception desk. No one was in it.

Vampire.

She turned around quickly, and nearly fell backwards, as Angel was really right behind her. He stood but two feet away.

"Angel. I got your message."

"I figured," he said with a smirk. They stood there and looked at each other for a second. Finally, Angel put his arms out. "Hug?"

Willow smiled and stepped forward, returning the gesture. When they separated, she inhaled deeply, then titled her head.

"How've you been?"

"You know, the usual…"

"Saving the world?"

"Gotta stay in shape."

Willow smiled at his joke. Angel gave a grin of his own, before he remembered that there were more pressing matters at hand.

Plenty of time to mingle after we stop the Apocalypse, he thought to himself.

"Willow, everyone's in the main office, so…"

"Let's go."

Angel led the way over to the doors of the office. He slid them open, leading the way for Willow to follow. Inside, Gunn sat across from Ilona, who was at her desk.

"Willow's here," Angel announced to the room.

"Ah, Miss Rosenberg!" Ilona was on her feet and quickly closing in on Willow. She gave Willow a kiss on each cheek, before taking a step back. "What a pleasure."

"Hi." Willow said, forcing a smile over her discomfort. "Um. You are?"

"Oh, forgive me… I'm Ilona Costa Bianchi, CEO of the Rome branch of Wolfram and Hart."

"Ah… Well, hi. You can just call me Willow."

"Certainly."

"Ok," Angel interrupted. "Willow, there's a lot I need to tell—"

"You know, Willow," Ilona cut Angel off quickly. "I here you are quite the witch."

"Well… I dabble," Willow said, trying to avoid being the center of attention.

"Dabble? I here you once tried to end the world."

Willow looked away from Ilona, as the painful memory of Tara's death came into her mind. That same day, she'd lost all control and hurt—almost killed everyone who loved her. And, yes, she had also attempted to end the world. Her eyes were moist.

Angel could sense Willow's unease.

"Willow," Angel said, touching her arm. She turned to face him. "There's something I need to tell you… It's about Fred—"

"Speaking of Fred," Willow interrupted him, nothing Illyria for the first time. Illyria was making her way closer to them, staring at Willow inquisitively. Willow walked up to her.

"Hey... You're, um, bluer then when we last met."

"I do not know you," Illyria informed her.

"What?"

"Willow…" Angel called behind her. Willow looked to him. "Fred… there was an…" Angel trailed off, unable to say it.

"Not Fred, huh?" Willow said solemnly.

"No."

Willow faced Illyria again. "Sorry…"

"Don't be," Ilyria said coldly. Willow could feel her eyes growing more moist.

Then came a voice, "Hello, Red."

Willow turned to see Spike standing in the doorway. He pulled a cigarette away from his lips, blowing out a puff of smoke. His leather duster flapped around him.

Willow let loose a tear. "Spike?"

"The one and only." Spike tossed his cigarette absentmindedly onto the floor and walked up to Willow. He stopped a foot away from her, looking her straight in the eye. "Surprised to see me?"

"I… I knew… But. Are you…"

"Alive? In a sense."

"So.. you're not…"

"Human? Well… technically." Spike shrugged. "Let's just say I like to refer to myself as being allergic to the sun."

Willow wiped her tear from her cheek. She smiled at Spike.

"I'm happy for you," Willow told him, patting his arm. Spike grinned.

"Yea. It's ok…"

"Well." Willow took in a deep breath, and let out a sort of chuckle. She turned towards Angel, who stood there, arms crossed. "Any other surprises for me?"

"There is one more thing," Angel said, his gaze dropping.

For the first time, Willow looked around the room and noticed that Wesley was nowhere to be found.

Oh, god.

She cried.