A/N-Hey, thanks for all who read and reviewed and those who just read. I've just fixed it so our fanfic account-less friends that are just as loved may review, so please do! I hope you all enjoy!

I don't own the Buffy or Angel verses, sadly. If I did, a certain ex-demon would not have been left at the alter!

"Lorne?" asked a shocked and confused Angel. The vampire wondered whether his eyes were playing tricks on him in the stormy night, as he stared at the figure in the doorway. "Is that you?"

The man stepped down the lobby's front entrance steps into the light. "Yeah, it's me," he said, his usually cheery and charming tone now gone, replaced by the sound of someone much too tired and worn out to be standing there.

Lorne, a demon able to read minds and auras through song, had long been apart of Angel's gang as the fun and lovable entertainment guru. But before the last battle, Lorne had said that once he finished his part of the mission, he was leaving. For good.

"But I thought…" Gunn began, also thrown by the demon's sudden appearance back into their lives.

"So did I," finished Lorne with a snap. "But I've got a message for you."

"Now, wait, slow down here. Lorne, how…how are you?," Angel stepped toward his old friend. "Where have you been? What's going…"

"Breathe, Angel cakes. I don't, well actually, you don't have a lot of time. A mission."

"Okay. What is it?" said Spike, sounding slightly bored with the demon's increasingly cryptic tone. Hoping for this dance to finish soon, Spike raised an eyebrow as he folded his arms over his chest, now leaning against the back of the couch.

"I saw something, when I was reading someone. But it went all wonky and off topic. I saw something bad coming."

"Not another apocalypse," moaned Spike. "They usually leave off till at least May."

"No, not an apocalypse. But it's gonna' be hell on Earth for a lot of people."

"Well…?" prompted Gunn, quickly tiring of the demon's theatrics.

"A hurricane."

Angel laughed, eyebrows arched, "How do you expect us to stop a…"

"Not stop, just help." Lorne looked around at the odd group, their eyes grasping for some understanding. "It may or may not be demon related, but things are gonna' get bad," he paused, "Thousands will die. They need your help."

"Yeah, but as you see," Gunn pointed to his wheelchair. "I'm pretty useless and Spike and Angel are pretty, well, flammable."

"You'll find a way," Lorne said angrily in a tone they still were unfamiliar with from their lighthearted friend. "It may not seem like it, but there are people who are gonna' need you. People are gonna' get desperate. People do crazy things when they're afraid. Things are gonna' get bad. Madonna movies bad."

"Evita or Swept Away?" asked Gunn, his broad smile filling his face.

"Swept Away," Lorne sighed, though the faintest of smiles crossed his red lips. In the most desperate of times, Angel's gang always kept the jokes flowing, and this brought back some much pleasanter memories for Lorne. Some.

"That's serious," Spike mumbled.

Lorne turned to leave and walked to the door. As he looked back he said, "You have three days. It's gonna hit Western Europe, for some odd reason. England, France, and Spain the most."

He turned his head. As he was about to leave, he paused, "You'll do good."

He walked through the doorway, without looking back, and out of sight.

A/N- I'm sorry if you're a Madonna fan. I actually LOVE Evita and hate to dis it, but it's a throw back to Angel. Can you guess it? Try and if you're right, I'll give you a virtual hug! Please review and I promise to reply back!