Knox, as he was known to everyone in the science lab of Wolfram and Hart, which he'd run since Winifred Burkle had left, stared at the sarcophagus that had just been delivered to his lab. "Finally." He muttered. "The damn thing's been stuck in customs for months." No one, aside from him and a few others, knew what was in that sarcophagus. Now he just needed a host. At one time he'd thought perhaps the beautiful Winifred Burkle, but she'd been fired after Angel had been destroyed by someone. Oh well, Illyria would keep and he'd find a new host for his god to be reborn into the world eventually. With a sigh, he returned to his work.
In her office, Eve, who had ceased to be the Liaison to the Senior Partners the same day Angel was destroyed and her and the company's connection to the Senior Partners had been cut off, stared at the latest reports. She'd succeeded to taking over as CEO of the multinational company in the wake of that episode, partly because she'd killed the competition and partly because the survivors hadn't wanted the position. The reports she was currently going over were deeply upsetting as they detailed the shrinking of Wolfram and Hart assets. The Global War was striking hard at their interests and a number of countries had somehow succeeded in destroying powerful demons associated with Wolfram and Hart, ones the company had guaranteed the protection of, but without the Senior Partners, they found it increasingly difficult to do. Some clients were jumping dimensions to escape the onslaught. And Senator Helen Brucker, a very corrupt human and member of the Black Thorne, had been unable to use her influence to gain any useful intell. And she was losing her bid for re-election and Wolfram and Hart was trying to manufacture a smear campaign against her opponent. It didn't seem to be working very well, without the magical influence of the Senior Partners, they could only work the old fashioned way, making it up and trying to falsify evidence that was believable. Modern forensics and technology seemed to be one step ahead of them in regards to that. They'd have to upgrade the labs and that was going to be expensive and their financial assets were shrinking as well. Frustrated, she slammed the latest report down on her desk and tried to calm down. How much worse could this get?
Wesley Wyndham-Price was bored out of his skull. Not quite literally, but he'd almost welcome it if he was. Once, six, nearly seven years ago, he'd been the star graduate of the Watchers Council, then Watcher to a Slayer on the Hellmouth. Then Faith had gone rogue and he'd been fired. He'd tried to reinvent himself as a demon hunter and had failed miserably and then he'd run into Angel and found a purpose in helping the Champion of the Powers. Then they stopped Jasmine from going global with her bid of world peace through enslavement to her and Wolfram and Hart had surrendered their Los Angeles branch to them to thank them for stopping her. Angel had become the CEO and they'd set out to revamp the company, no pun intended, from the inside out. Which had included firing corrupt human employees, but in hindsight, hadn't really affected the demons. Then Angel had been destroyed and he, Gunn, Fred and Lorne had been fired. He hadn't heard from any of them since.
Which is where his current level of boredom came in. The only job he'd been able to find was working at the public library. He didn't actually have a resume, just his education, which while stellar, didn't leave him many options and a museum would have been even more boring. He was currently in the break room on his break watching the little tv the Head Librarian kept back here and it being eleven a.m. meant only game shows and soap operas were on. Neither held any interest for him.
The screen playing showed a beautiful brunette walking into the barroom on the television screen and ordering a drink from the bar. The bartender hit on her and she snarled something at him. Wesley missed what she said as he stared at a face he'd thought he'd never see again. The face of a dead woman or so he'd been told. Cordelia Chase. If she was dead, how was she on a soap opera?
"Oh wait, it's probably just someone who looks like her." He tried to assure himself. "Didn't I once hear that everyone has a twin in the world?" He kept watching and finally the episode ended and the credits began. He kept trying to assure himself it wasn't her, after all if it was Cordelia wouldn't she contact him and let him know she was alive? He'd thought they were friends, as well as colleagues. Then he saw the name. Cordelia Chase-Harris. Hyphenated, a married name perhaps? Unlike his own which had been hyphenated for generations. It was too much to be a coincidence, he needed to find her, he needed answers.