Angel stared at the girl standing before him, his shock written all over his face. It wouldn't have been more apparent if she had suddenly taken out a huge red Sharpie and printed the word across his nose.

"Don't feel the need to stare or anything," she said drily, shoving her hands into her pockets. She was wearing a black hoody with the words NATIONAL SARCASM SOCIETY printed in big letters across the chest, then in smaller letters Like we need your support and a pair of faded and torn black jeans. Her shoes looked like they had seen better days, and were black as well. Her hair was (surprisingly) black, with several streaks of silver that reminded him a little of Illyria, excepit it was short and spiky. That part reminded him of a bush... Albeit a very pointy one. Her eyes were intelligent, and silver too.

"What? I. Er. That is," Angel stuttered.

"I take it that means the Guardian didn't mention me. Typical. Probably spouting all his glowing comments about Gordon," the girl grumbled. She rolled her eyes as she said the name, obviously scornful of this Gordon. "I swear, if I didn't know better I'd think he was in love with the idiot."

"H-He didn't mention anyone," Angel finally managed to say. "Gordon or otherwise."

The girl raised an eyebrow. "Well, that's all right, I suppose." She sounded a little surprised.

"So, why did you come here if you're Drogyn's... apprentice?" Angel asked, trying to sound all confident and in control. It didn't seem to work.

"Drogyn died, as you know," she began. "And he was... training, I suppose you could say, a couple of people to take his place, in case he was killed. He couldn't die, y'know, being immortal and all that. 'Course, we couldn't ask 'cause he'd just chop our head off or something. Anyhow. He started out with ten or so, but inevitably one would slip up, displease him or something, and BAM!" She drew a finger across her throat, the universal sign for death. "Then there was me. And Gordon." Her eyes narrowed as she said the name again, and Angel got the feeling that she really didn't like this guy, whoever he was.

"We saw you, and that blonde guy, Spike, right? He wouldn't let us talk to you though. Something about me scaring you off and whatnot. So he dies, and you know who the Powers make the new Guardian? Gordon! I'm not even kidding you, this guy's a complete idiot!" The girl's voice had grown steadily higher as she went on until she was practically yelling.

She took several breaths, calmed herself, then continued. "I'm pretty pissed off now, I mean I'm the one clearly more qualified to have this job, right!" Angel felt himself nod. He was too intimidated by the strange girl to do much else than agree with her. "So me, I go to one of the Oracles, guy named Wenzell. I ask him why the hell the Powers appointed that imbecile, and you know what he says? 'You have a higher purpose. We just needed you to be trained by Drogyn.' Can you believe that!" She took a couple more deep breaths. "So I'm like, 'Yeah? Train me how?' 'cause I already knew all the stuff he'd 'trained' us to do. And so Wenzell says, 'You will realise the truth when you are ready to.' So I say some choice words and ask him what my 'higher purpose' could possibly be. 'Helping one who killed Drogyn,' was his reply. That's you, so here I am." She paused, then studied him. "You need help with anything?"

Angel was a little overwhelmed. This girl was pretty forceful, and he wasn't quite sure how to respond to her question. Sure he needed help, but she couldn't give it to him! "Erm... What did you say your name was?" he asked instead.

"Oh right, it's--"

"Taywen." The two looked up to see Illyria and Spike, who had entered unheard a couple of seconds earlier.

Taywen frowned. "Illyria," she said coolly.

Spike looked from one to the other. He was getting seriously uncomfortable with this whole situation. First that incident back on the docks and now this... The stranger and Illyria seemed to be having a staring contest.

"You two know each other?" Angel asked, breaking the heavy silence that had descended on the four. "Are you... Uh... Friends?"

"Friends?" Illyria laughed coldly. "If you mean friends in the sense of the saying, 'Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer.'"

"Ah," Angel muttered. "Well, you seem to have a lot of catching up to do, so why don't I just..."

"Yeah, I'll, um, go with him," Spike agreed, and the two started to edge away.

"Stop," Illyria commanded. "You must stay, my guide." 'My guide' seemed to be turning into some kind of pet name, like 'my love'... but in a guide-y way.

"Guide?" Taywen looked over at Spike, who shifted under her intense scrutiny. "What happened to the first one? Oh that's right, he was killed by your second guide. But what happened to your second one?"

"He was killed by the sorceror Vale," Illyria replied. "And now he is my guide."

Taywen nodded. "Never liked Vale. Of course, Gordon is so much worse than Vale."

"Gordon?" Illyria repeated. "That traitor is still around?"

"And kicking, sad to say," Taywen said in a voice of long suffering. "He's the new Guardian of the Deeper Well."

"That would make sense. He wouldn't want any of the ones like us who are stuck in the Deeper Well to escape. Most want to kill him," Illyria remarked.

"Even more than would want to kill me," Taywen agreed in a depressed voice. "Do you know how morally degrading this is! Admittedly, he has more reason not to want any Old Ones getting out, but come on! He's such an imbecile!"

"On that, we are agreed."

"Uh, not to interrupt or anything, but is there a reason you're here... Taywen, is it?" Spike asked, fast becoming impatient with their small talk... If that's what you wanted to call it.

"Oh, right. Sorry." He also noticed that depending on who she was talking to, her tone changed noticeably – cool, almost impolite, to Illyria, pleasant and at ease with him and Angel. "After I was 'let go' in favour of Gordon, the Powers approached me in the form of a seer, a shapeshifter whose name I don't know. This seer told me that I had a higher purpose, that I was supposed to help the hapless... Or was it the hopeless...? Anyway, this shapeshifter told me that I had to tell the vampire with a soul that the first Slayer needed help..." She paused. "I pointed out to the guy that the first Slayer was in fact dead, but he said the first of this generation. Something about her dying twice and whatnot."

Spike was listening now – this was about Buffy! "Yeah? Did this seer fellow say anything about a handsome ex-vamp?" Angel had reappeared as well, although he remained silent. He had a hopeful look on his face, but that could be attributed to the fact that he was hoping Spike wasn't included.

"Mm... Nope. Nothing about the handsome, anyway. He said that the being called Illyria, the vampire with a soul and the former vampire who accompanied them had to-"

"Whoa, whoa. Hold on jus' a sec!" Spike protested. "Accompanied! They said I accompanied Illyria and that grand poof!"

"I am not a poof!" Angel snapped.

"Or something to that effect," Taywen said with a shrug, quickly diffusing the situation. "Back to my story... Oh wait, it's done. And here I am." She smiled that lazy, laid-back smile and gave a little bow.

There was a moment of silence, then, "Let's go. If Buffy needs our help then-"

"Ah, not so fast, Angel," Taywen cut him off. "For one thing... Daylight. Two, you don't even know why she needs help. Maybe she needs something that's only located here in Los Angeles, and if you rush off you won't get it to her."

Spike stifled the urge to laugh; he wasn't sure if making fun of Angel was a good sport at the moment, what with him being all weak and human.

Angel nodded slowly. "So what does she need from here?"

Taywen blinked. "Er... Need...?"

"You said she needed something from Los Angeles," Spike said impatiently.

"Oh... Well, that was hypothetical."

"You never ask me what I need," Illyria muttered.

Spike laughed, but it sounded a little fake. He pretended not to have heard Illyria's comment. "What's the girl need help with this time, then? 'Cause I'm not in the mood to burn up closing a Hellmouth again."

"Really? That's too bad. Guess you'll have to stay behind then. That's exactly what you'd be doing."

"Burning up!" Spike asked incredulously. "She needs me to burn up! Again!"

Taywen shook her head. "Well, not that part," she said, as if it were obvious. "But the Hellmouth-closing part? Yeah, you'd be doing that."