Hi, everyone! I'm so sorry that this took me this long and that it isn't longer. But I'm trying to set up later chapters and this one was difficult to write. So, I hope you enjoy it and please let me know what you think! Thanks…

Chapter 2

Two weeks later, Angel felt the bitterness in his bones even worse than before. He tried to ignore it, but it was fermenting into anger. He was depressed, pissed off, and had every intention of ignoring it.

He had gotten a vision that there were demons in the old fort. He was now there, standing in front of the stone wall. He leapt over it, his sword in hand. He heard gargling noises and ran towards the sounds. Inside the mission, he found four large demons in robes with a teenage girl lying strapped to a table.

Angel rolled his eyes and said, "What is it with you religious types? Can't you just light a candle or something? Why does it always have to be sacrificing a virgin?"

The demons ran towards him. With one swing, he decapitated one and then used the momentum to spin and kick another in the gut. One hit him in the face and a claw scraped his cheek. Grunting in pain, he ducked down and slid his leg to knock the demon off balance. He jumped back up and punched it in the gut and then head butted it. It fell to the ground. He stomped it hard in the face with his boot and then stabbed it in the stomach.

"Two more to go, boys," Angel said, sounding almost amused.

The demons looked at him, then at each other, and turned around and ran the other way. Angel sighed and went over to the crying girl. Without saying anything, he took a knife that was strapped to his leg and cut the ropes around her feet and hands.

"Thank you," she wept. Blood and sweat made her hair stick to her head.

He tried not to stare at the open cut on her forehead. "Just go home," he said, turning away from her. "Try not to get kidnapped again."

She ran from the mission still crying.

He stood in the room, trying to forget the smell of her blood. The demon he had stabbed in the stomach started to stir. Angel lifted his sword and smiled. As it struggled to sit up, he kicked it back down. He took a swing and sliced its chest. The demon's arms flailed as it tried to get up and away from him. He kept hacking at it as green blood spurted from its body. After the demon was dead for several minutes, Angel was still slicing and stabbing and kicking it.

"I think you killed him, mate."

House turned towards the voice. "Haven't you noticed that I get tired of you following me around for an eternity, Spike?"

Spike cocked his head to the side. "Trust me. I'm not here willingly."

Angel walked past him and out the door. "Then leave."

He followed him. "Can't do that, Captain Broods-A-Lot."

"Why the hell not?"

"The Powers That Be seem to think you need a guide."

Angel stopped, slightly jabbing the sword at the air and gritting his teeth. "Were they high?"

Spike thought about the question legitimately and inquisitively. "Dunno. Can higher powers get high?"

Rolling his eyes, he said, "I don't need a guide. And I sure as hell don't need you."

Spike shook his head. "The PTB don't see it that way, friend."

Angel put his hands out defensively. "I'm doing fine here. I'm saving people. I kill demons nightly."

He cracked a smile. "I saw that. You keep swinging after they're dead, too."

Angel looked down, mumbling, "I was just a little…tense."

He raised his eyebrows. "A little tense? Man, look at you. You're ready to pop. I've seen that crazed look, that itching under the surface. We've both been there and you're ready to fall off the edge."

"Just go away, Spike." He said and started walking towards his car.

"Would she be happy," Spike called out, "if she thought her death had been wasted?"

He kept walking. "Don't you ever get tired of throwing Buffy up in my face?"

"I'm not talking about Buffy, dumb ass. There's only one woman that made you a champion—as much as I hate to admit it."

"Cordelia," he whispered.

"That's why I'm here. I got a dream a couple nights back. Of Cordelia watching you die."

Angel got into his car. "That's it? That dream made you come all the way down to Florida to annoy me?"

Spike shook his head and jumped into the passenger side despite Angel's groans. "Nope. Then this Irish bloke with black hair and bad taste in clothes told me that you needed to see. That you weren't game anymore. Whatever the hell that means."

Doyle, he thought. "I'm the one that gets visions. Why wouldn't the Powers send me the message?"

Spike took a flask from his jacket pocket and took a swig. "Maybe you aren't listening anymore."

Angel rolled his eyes. "So what are we supposed to do?"

He winced. "I'm not really sure."

Angel blinked. "That's just great."

……………………………………

Cagney awoke with a start. It was the third nightmare she had had in five nights. Well, it wasn't really a nightmare. She was pretty sure it was another Slayer dream.

Just like any other Slayer, she sometimes dreamt of past Chosen Ones and every once in a while had a dream about the future. Considering the hairstyles and clothing, she figured these dreams were about the past.

In these dreams, she was always a woman that looked about her own age and could very easily be her sister—they looked so much alike. The woman had dark hair to her shoulders and a round, pretty face. She was fighting demons with two tall men. And she suffered through boils, burns, and scratches.

But this last dream was all together different. It was the reason why she had woken up.

"I want you to undress me."

The man was beautiful. And looked terrified. "You what?"

She slid her hands down her side and stomach, tilting her head, pleading. "It's only a costume. I want you to see who I really am. You're the only one who can."

The man came closer to her. "Is that what you really want?"

She couldn't breathe. "Yes."

His face was close to hers and she could see his dark brown eyes staring deep into hers. "Do you want me to make love to you now? Here?"

Her hands rose up to his shoulders. "Please."

He kissed her. Passionately. Recklessly. Lovingly.

Her lips brushed against his as she whispered, "I'm only alive when you're inside me."

That was when Cagney woke up. She looked over at the clock. It was 2:00 in the morning. "Damn." She blinked tiredly as she looked back up at the ceiling. She had an exam in the morning and she needed sleep.

After that dream, she also needed a cold shower.

TBC