Tom and Alex watched Lena disappear into the sky, still not sure what she was or where she was going, or for that matter how she was getting there. They saw her wings, but she slipped through the air and vanished so quickly that wings couldn't fully explain it. The two friends looked at each other questioningly, then turned at the sound of the television station's final collapse. The ground shook and the final cloud of dust billowed into the air as the last two exterior walls fell. In the midst of the rubble a lone conference room door stood upright. It would prove to be a challenge for the wrecking crew when cleanup began next month.

As the dust began to drift and settle, Tom pointed down the road in the direction they had come and said, "That way." He took off running and Alex picked up Mr. Creepy, as she was now calling Hal in her head, and rent-a-ghosted with him out of range of the dust storm. Tom trotted up to them and stopped.

"Where's the car?" Alex asked.

"Dunno, Hal had it. I ran over. I reckon I can run home." Tom shrugged.

"Or we could find a car. There's bound to be one around with keys in it. I'll get one and you can wait here with Mr. Creepy."

"Alex, you can't steal a car!" Tom was shocked by her suggestion.

"I'm not sure its stealing if the owner is dead, Tom. I'll just be a few minutes."

"You can't drive a car! Someone will see it and-"

"Tom, I don't think there's anyone left to see it," Alex pointed out sadly. She disappeared, leaving Tom and his tied-up, unconscious vampire mate.

Too bad we can't just leave Hal by the road, Alex thought. She was fed up with good Hal, bad Hal, even human Hal was getting on her nerves. He had every opportunity to shag me and he was too polite to make a move. I don't reckon I'll be giving him another chance.

She quickly found an abandoned Ford Focus and drove it back to where Tom was waiting. After loading Hal in the boot they headed for Honolulu Heights. Tom had started to argue when Alex popped the boot latch, but he was tired of Hal too, and decided it would be easiest all around to have him locked up for the trip home. The last thing he needed was a screaming vampire trying to chew his way through the upholstery while Tom was concentrating on the road.

The drive back to Barry was eerily quiet as they were quite literally the only thing moving within view. Tom had to work around abandoned vehicles here and there but they saw no living people or ghosts until they reached the roundabout where Gladstone Road meets with the Cardiff Road. There the way was blocked by two Men in Grey and a familiar Lexus. Apparently Mr. Rook had upgraded his mode of transportation and was allowing his car to be used by others.

"One moment," MiG One demanded of Tom as he carefully approached the driver's side window. He stopped, pulled a photo from his pocket, and studied it for a moment, then looked from the photo to Tom. "Tom McNair?"

"Yes sir."

"Are you travelling alone?"

"No sir, me mate Hal's in the boot and Alex is right here. You can't see her 'cause she's a ghost." Tom winced as Alex punched him in the ribs.

"Don't say anything you don't have to!" she whispered fiercely.

"And Hal is Hal Yorke, the vampire, correct?" The MiG continued calmly, as if this sort of conversation was normal for him.

"Yes sir."

"Mr. Rook has issued orders. You are to be seen safely home and guarded until he can reach you. He wishes to speak to you about certain…events that are occurring."

"There ain't no reason for that, it's all over now-OW!" Tom got another vicious jab in the ribs from Alex.

"Excuse me?" the MiG was curious.

But Tom had learned his lesson and wasn't saying any more. "Thank you for your kind offer of help. Tell Mr. Rook that we'll be happy to receive him when he calls."

The MiG's moved the Lexus aside, allowing Tom to pass in the Focus. "Good job, Tom. You sounded very proper," Alex said as she turned to watch the Lexus following them.

"Always be polite and helpful to the authorities when it ain't you they're after. McNair said. I guess they don't care about borrowed cars and aught." Tom breathed a sigh of relief as they reached Honolulu Heights. Alex discreetly took Hal inside while Tom checked briefly for signs of life. Although there was no traffic noise, Tom heard some children playing down the way, and a couple arguing about whether it was safe to leave their house. Maybe there were more people left than he thought.

He turned to look at the old B&B, knowing what was waiting for him inside. They would need to find a nice, sturdy chair. This could take a while, he thought as he unconsciously squared his shoulders and strode toward the house.

Alex was already at work getting the restraint area prepared for another round of Hal Wars. She had cleared away Hal's bloodstained work shirt and the ruined leather strap that Natasha had cut while under Hatch's spell. The blood on the carpet would have to be dealt with too, or Mr. Creepy would tear the house down to get to it. I'm so fucking tired of this, she thought. If it weren't for Tom, I'd be looking for Lady Mary right now. I could use a nice, safe, insanity-filled adventure.

"Rook's men are parked across the street," Tom said as he came in. He looked at Hal, still unconscious. "I musta really clonked him a good one."

"I wonder if it has anything to do with the magic rope," Alex said. "Whatever, I'm glad for the quiet. We'll get plenty of noise from Mr. Creepy before this is over."

Tom winced at her use of the name. "Alex…"

"Oi! He didn't kiss you while he was all blooded up, allright! I can call him whatever I want. D'you have another strap? We're short one here."

"I'll check the basement," Tom headed toward the stairs.

"Got it," Alex said as she reappeared with a leather strap left over from the Crumb Experiment. She had rent-a-ghosted to the basement and back before he had taken three steps. At Tom's startled look, she smiled sheepishly. "What? I missed my superpowers, okay?"

"Yeah, I missed the wolf some too, you know? I felt kinda empty and weak like." Tom was relieved to tell Alex now that he knew she felt the same. He had been afraid to mention it while they were 'human.'

Tom began the process of unwinding Hal from the bola so they could get him secured in the chair. It was a short process, as the bola refused to budge, no matter how hard Tom tugged on it. Alex came to help and got the same response.

"Shite! I guess it really is a magic rope! Looks like he's stuck with it until the demon hunter comes back for it." Alex was smiling a bit too much at the thought of Hal's discomfiture when he woke up. Tom frowned at her.

"How are we to strap him into the chair when we can't move his arms and legs?" he said.

"I dunno, let's just set him in it and see what works."

They maneuvered Hal into a sitting position in the chair and found that his chest could still be strapped down in the usual manner. When Alex took hold of Hal's right hand and tried to tug it toward a strap the bola loosened and shifted just enough to allow it. Tom had no luck with the other hand, but when Alex came around the chair the bola shifted again, allowing her to strap both of Hal's wrists to the arms of the chair. She moved to his legs and was able to strap each of them individually as well. Tom watched, shaking his head.

"Maybe it only does what a lady wants," he said, "or maybe it just don't like me."

Alex joined him and they stood together in front of the vampire, watching as he slowly began to awaken. Alex looked at Tom. "I don't know how that 'bola' works, but I'll bet if he makes it out of the chair he won't make it two steps more."

"Reckon it's a good job we've got it then," Tom said.

Hal, apparently fully awake at last, opened his eyes and addressed them. "Tom. Alex. I assume that things ended well, as we are all still here. I'd worry it was another dream, but of course, this" he shook his bound arms "tells me that I am firmly entrenched in reality."

"Back home safe and sound, mate," Tom said with a touch of false cheerfulness. "Hatch is gone for good. Now we just need to get you sobered up and back to your old self, right?"

"Actually, Tom, my old self is right here, and isn't going away. Tying me to a chair won't change me back into your Hal. It's too late."

"Excuse me for sayin' this, but I'm not sure I believe you, mate," Tom replied. "You aren't known for truth-tellin'. I reckon we'll give it a go and see for ourselves." He looked at Alex, who nodded her agreement.

"Must you persist in this delusion? As I've already explained, your friend is dead." Hal was beginning to get annoyed at their persistence. "Oh, don't get me wrong, your Hal tried very hard to hang on, for your sakes as much as his own. Your belief in him was quite touching, really. And when it ended, so did he."

Alex and Tom exchanged guilty looks as they remembered the last time they were all three in the house. Neither one of them had believed that Hal had tried to save Natasha and had chosen instead to accuse him of killing her and drinking her blood. Hatch had played them all flawlessly.

Hal read their expressions and continued with a touch of condescension in his tone. "No reason to feel badly, chaps. It was only a matter of time, you just moved things along. I would be thanking you both for the help actually, if it weren't for your inconvenient insistence on tying me to a fucking chair!"

He fought violently against the straps, only to have Lena's bola tighten around him, squeezing the breath from his lungs. He stopped struggling and the bola loosened. Shit! This is new. I may be in serious trouble with this thing, he thought. Although fear snaked its way through the rage and thirst that consumed him, Hal continued to present a confident front.

"How long will it take, Tom, for you to realize that I'm telling the truth? Six months? Six years? Six decades? How long are you willing to continue this charade of friendship? Get it through your thick head! I'm back. There's nothing you can do, nothing anybody can do to change it now." Hal paused to control his rising temper. "So what say you release me, we have a hearty handshake for old time's sake, and I take my leave of you both."

Seeing the misery on Tom's face was too much for Alex. "I say we stake him now and be done with it. C'mon Tom, you've done enough for this bastard. He doesn't deserve your loyalty or your friendship. We can do better without him, just the two of us."

"Alex! How can you say that? It's Hal! Look, it's Hal." Tom waved his hand at the watchful vampire. Alex's comments had caught both men off guard.

"This isn't Hal, this is a monster living in a dead body. Tom, he lied to us, he drank blood, for god's sake Tom! He suckled on Natasha's thigh like some twisted evil child clinging to his mum! The blood will always win, Tom. And more people will die, if we don't accept the truth and end it, now." Alex reached for a stake tucked into the bookcase across the room, and it flew into her hand. "I'll do it. He can't hurt me any more."

Tom was about to speak when the trio heard a screech of tires and slamming of car doors out front. As Tom ran to the window, Hal took a deep breath. "Our acquaintance Mr. Rook is here," he said, smelling the Man in Grey before Tom could see him. Alex retreated to the fireplace, stake in hand, waiting. The resolute look on her face told Hal that he had received a delay, not a permanent stay of execution.

Tom met Dominic Rook at the door. Rook's usually spotless grey suit was disheveled, his already-slender features were wan and drawn, his piercing blue eyes were dull and exhausted.

"Tom. I can't tell you how relieved I am to see you. And the others are here? Safe? No longer under the devil's control?"

"Yes, Mr. Rook, we are all here. Do come in, you look knackered." Tom noticed three MiG's watching them, prepared to move in at a word from their commander-in-chief. From the looks of them, their grey business suits had become uniforms worn in battle with a formidable enemy.

Tom continued in a voice loud enough for them all to hear. "Hatch is dead. The apocalypse is over. You can relax now."

"Oh thank god!" Rook swayed on his feet and caught himself, the relief almost too much for him. He really didn't appreciate all of these emotions running around in his head. "Are you sure? We saw the creature flying in the direction of Cardiff. I have a team en route to the television station now."

"You won't find much left," Tom said. "It got kind of blown up. Not by us this time," he added hastily. He didn't want the Men in Grey to get the wrong idea and suspect him of having a dangerous new habit.

"Tom. Mr. McNair, would you be willing to tell me what happened? We need to document his destruction and how it came about; the information will be an invaluable addition to the archive." Rook was trying to regain his professional demeanor.

"Sure, if you'll tell us what we missed. We slept through most of it, I reckon. Only woke up in time to see the ending." Tom was oblivious to Rook's puzzled look. He got that a lot from people.

Hal's voice called out from the interior of the house. "Do come in, Rook. Don't you know it is rude to keep your host standing on the doorstep indefinitely?" As Rook entered the house, Hal continued speaking with the air of a man who was used to being in charge. "You are relatively safe here; I assure you that I won't bite. Well, I would, but I am currently not in a position to do so. I cannot vouch for Alex, however. She may still have a dead fish or some superglue lying about." Hal nodded his head in the direction of the fireplace where Alex was standing.

Rook threw a startled look that way, unable to stop the reflex although he knew that he would see nobody there. He nodded slightly in Alex's direction as he acknowledged the identity of the poltergeist who had plagued the archive. "We've dealt with worse," he said reservedly.

"So you'd like to know what happened to good Captain Hatch." The vampire maintained control of the room in spite of his undignified position. "Tell me, Rook, have you ever heard the term Seraphin Nepos?"

Rook sank clumsily into a stool at the bar and stared at the vampire, looking for any sign of deceit. Rook decided that Hal was telling the truth; he reached into the inner pocket of his coat, pulled out a walkie-talkie, and snapped, "I need a scribe with a recorder in here. Now!"

Footsteps thudded up the walk and a man and woman burst through the front door of Honolulu Heights, looking as ready to fight as to write.

"We have a type double-zero sighting. Prepare to record." Dominic Rook couldn't control the excitement in his voice, although he did his best to keep his professionalism intact for the sake of his subordinates. Each MiG got out a mini-recorder as well as a small notepad and pen. They looked awkwardly around the room with their hands full, not sure where to go or what to expect.

"Here, we'll set you up," Tom said as he went to move a small two-person table and chair set from across the room. "C'mon Alex." Tom looked toward the fireplace where she was still standing and the MiG's gazes followed, seeing nobody there.

The ghost rolled her eyes, pocketed the stake, and rent-a-ghosted to the table. Grabbing it with a clearly insincere smile she moved it to a position where it was a safe distance from Hal but centrally located for the pending conversation. The MiGs couldn't help jumping as the table disappeared from across the room and reappeared a few feet away from them.

"Thank you Ms. Millar," Rook spoke in the direction of the table as if he were quite used to carrying on conversations with invisible beings.

Tom followed with the two chairs, setting them down. "Would you like tea, or maybe coffee?" Tom was doing his best to be a good host.

Alex found the whole scenario ridiculous beyond comprehension. "I'll just go make some tea for us all then, shall I? Maybe find some biscuits that aren't too stale?" she asked sarcastically as she headed for the kitchen. Not that I can talk to these blokes anyway, she though. She was, frankly, glad for a few minutes alone to get herself together after the chaos of the few couple of hours. Or was it days? Surely not weeks? Alex had no idea when in time she was anymore.

"Alex is just going to get some tea and maybe biscuits," Tom said as the swinging door to the kitchen opened and closed. "We aren't sure how long we've been gone, but there's probably somethin' good to eat, still." He looked at Rook hopefully.

"It has only been two days since we saw each other in Cardiff." Rook, preferring understatement whenever possible, made no mention of the volatile nature of their last encounter.

"Well that's alright then," Tom said, relieved. "Not much damage done in just two days, I reckon."

"Our latest estimates are that approximately 5 million people committed suicide and another quarter-million were killed by the devil and an apparent horde of spirits that joined him." Rook paused to give Tom and Hal a chance to accept the staggering number of deaths before continuing.

"It would have been worse if you hadn't delayed the devil long enough for us to sever the satellite feed. Fortunately he was only able to broadcast part of his message, so only the weak-minded were lured to their deaths. Makes me question the validity of the emergency broadcast system as a whole," Rook mused, "but that is another day's problem."

Rook's mobile phone hummed from within a pocket. He answered the call, apparently from his team on the ground at the television station. Rook stepped into the front hallway as he listened to the report, murmuring an occasional response. Suddenly he swung around, looking at Tom and Hal while repeating what he was hearing on the phone.

"A door? An interior door, standing upright in the middle of the wreckage. You're certain it isn't supported by something?"

"That's the room we were in," Tom said. "Me and Alex saw it when we was leaving."

"Apparently the Seraphin Nepos put some sort of seal on the door to prevent demon-possessed equipment from breaking it down," Hal added.

"I see," Rook said. "That explains why one side is embedded with bits of metal and glass and the other side completely clean." Rook turned back to his phone. "The door has been affected by a type double-zero. Document its appearance but do not attempt to disturb it."

Rook's call ended as the kitchen doors swung open and a disembodied tea tray floated over to the bar and set itself down. The aroma of strong, freshly brewed tea made as much of an impact on the weary warriors in the room as did the nature of its arrival. The tray was packed full: teapot, sugar, milk, four mugs, hobnobs, and chocolate digestives.

"You want the usual, Tom?" Alex asked as she reached for the teapot.

"I reckon we can fix our own, thanks Alex," Tom replied, picking it up for himself. "You don't have to play hostess. Unless you want to see to Hal."

"I didn't think Mr. Creepy was interested in drinking tea," Alex huffed as she moved out of the way of Rook, who was reaching carefully for a mug. She looked at Hal, who arched an eyebrow and responded with a wicked half-smile.

"How could I resist being served tea and hobnobs by a lady of your incomparable charm?"

"Bugger!" Alex disappeared into the kitchen to make his tea.

Tom and his guests fell to, thankful for the simple camaraderie of tea after the horrors of the last few days. Alex watched them from the pass-through window as Hal's tea brewed and considered the courage and sacrifice these grey-suited soldiers must have displayed in defense of humanity. How many of their fellows died along the way? I'll bet they haven't eaten lately, she thought. Living with a houseful of men had taught Alex the priorities. She rooted through the kitchen and put together a platter of ham, cheese, and boiled eggs, threw most of a loaf of bread on for good measure, and took it to the bar.

Rook couldn't help jumping a bit when the platter appeared next to the tea tray, but he recovered almost immediately. "Ms. Millar, you are an angel," he said sincerely. He and his troops were just beginning to realize how hungry they were.

"Tell 'em to eat up, Tom," Alex said. "They needn't be shy on my account." She popped back into the kitchen for Hal's tea, black with a splash of water. Normality had suddenly become very important to her, even the weird normality of a tied-up vampire in need of tea.

"Alex says to help yourselves," Tom spoke for her as he slapped together a sandwich for himself. They ate while watching Hal drink tea through a straw coming out of a floating tea cup. Alex served him silently, kept her charms to herself, and listened intently when Rook began his narrative.