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~Part One~

The museum was silent and dim.  The only light came from the small spotlights illuminating the displays.  Most people would have found being alone at night with the mummified remains of ancient Egyptian pharaohs creepy, but Willow was right at home.  She hummed a soft tune while she sat cross legged underneath a display of pottery shards. She was using the light from the display to read the large book she was translating.  She flipped the page carefully, not wanting to damage the ancient, delicate paper and gasped.

A large, painted illustration in all its intricate detail graced the next page.  The hieroglyphics on the opposite page told her that it was an illustration of Anubis, the Egyptian God of the Dead.  The tall God had the head of a jackal on the body of a man standing in profile, its red eye glittered menacingly in the soft light.  It was looking right at Willow.

"It's real, you know."

The deep voice from the shadows over her shoulder made Willow jump. She didn't scream though, she was from Sunnydale.  The man leaned into
the light, revealing twinkling blue eyes and a rakish grin.

"Don't tell me that you believe in the revenge of the Gods and the curse of the Mummies, Rick O'Connell," Willow mocked with a touch of irony.  She knew very well that these things existed, but she wasn't sure how seriously her new friend took ancient myths and monsters.  She really liked Rick, he was an outrageous tease and she really needed to be around someone fun.  Life in Sunnydale had become oppressive after Buffy's return and Giles' departure and she had needed a break.  When the chance to spend the term in Los Angeles cataloging Egyptian artifacts and translating ancient papyrus at the Southern Californian Museum of Natural History had come up a month ago, Willow had jumped at it.

"The eye.  It's a real ruby sliver." Rick leaned over the book and his finger brushed the tiny gem that winked in the dim light.  "The Egyptians often used flaked gold and slivers of real gems to give their paintings life.  It was a way of honoring the gods they depicted."

"You know a lot about this, huh?  Are you studying it at UCLA?" Willow smiled as Rick settled down beside her on the floor.  She felt a little guilty because she hadn't said anything to Rick about Tara, but it's not like she was dating him and cheating on her girlfriend.  She was just enjoying his company as a friend, like she enjoyed Angel's.  That thought made her feel even more guilty, like she was cheating on Angel, which was totally ridiculous.  Angel was just her friend, no matter what Buffy and Tara thought about their living arrangements.  It was more convenient for her to stay with Angel at the hotel than with Cordelia at her apartment, the Hyperion was closer to the museum. Willow shook her head slightly and pushed all thoughts of Buffy and Tara to the back of her mind.  The time would come when she would have to dwell on them all too soon.  She concentrated on Rick instead.

"No, it kind of runs in the family.  My great great grandfather was an Egyptologist who helped discover Tutankhamen's tomb in 1922 and his
daughter, my great grandmother, Evelyn Carnahan O'Connell was the curator of the Cairo Museum in 1925 and later the British Museum.  And, of course, my grandfather, Dr. Alexander O'Connell was also the curator of the British Museum before he retired a few years ago.  My sister, Evy, and I are named after our great grandparents.  My great grandfather, the original Rick O'Connell was an adventurer.  I've kind of taken up the family trade.  My sister and I look for Egyptian artifacts for the museum."  As he spoke, Rick shifted closer to Willow. His thumb brushed over the illustration of Anubis and he wondered what it would feel like to run his fingers through Willow's hair.  It looked soft.  She was so beautiful and smart.

"Wow, that sounds interesting.  And your great grandmother must have been amazing, I mean to be a woman in the 1920's and given the position
of curator of the British Museum.  She must have been a strong, smart woman." Willow looked at Rick with awe.

"She was that and more if you can believe the stories my grandfather tells about her and my great grandfather.  Actually, you kind of remind me of the way Grandpa Alex describes her.  Smart, beautiful, courageous...." Rick trailed off as he met Willow's pretty green eyes. He loved making her blush and flirting was fun, but it was time to progress to the next level.

A lesbian. Willow added to herself, but didn't say it out loud.  She never had been sure of that label.  She loved Tara and their sexual experiences had been an extension of that love, but right now, Rick's closeness was making her stomach flutter and she was tingling in places she didn't think lesbians tingled when a male body was close to them.  And then there was Angel.  Living with him was a learning experience, one that had taught her that no matter how tired she was always knock before entering the bathroom because the vampire you are living with could be in the shower.  Naked and wet.  And she had also learned that you really shouldn't stare.  At naked, wet vampires. Willow gulped and dropped her gaze from Rick's.  She brought up the first thing she saw to break the sexual tension.  "Hey, why don't you tell me more about this Anubis guy.  Any inside info you can give me to impress my supervisor?"

"Well, Anubis had many roles as the God of the Dead.  He was the patron of embalming and the conductor of souls." Rick leaned against the display case.  He didn't let Willow's change in subject faze him.  He could charm her with his knowledge of ancient Egypt.  That was how you got the smart ones, with your brain.  "The Egyptians believed that people were made up of three main parts: the ka, the spirit; the ba, the soul; and the akh, supernatural abilities.  The process of mummification after death kept the ka and ba alive.  In this illustration, Anubis is performing the act of judgement, there were 42 different crimes.  You see, the heart of the dead is set on one of the pans of the scales and a feather is placed on the other.  Every time a person committed one of the 42 crimes, his or her heart would get heavier.  If the heart is heavier than the feather, than it would be devoured by Ammut."  Rick leaned into Willow again as he pointed out the short demoness with the head of a crocodile, the body of a lion,
and the hindquarters of a hippopotamus squatting beneath the pan holding the heart.  The fierce demoness' jaws were open wide, waiting for the heart of a sinner.  He felt Willow jump as his other hand skimmed the side of her outer thigh and the pen she had been using to transcribe her translations fell from her hand.  Willow turned away from him to pick it up and Rick took the opportunity to steal a glancing caress of her fiery hair.

"Are you ready to go home now, Willow?" Another male voice interrupted the intimate scene.  Angel stepped from the shadows.  He had arrived
when the guy Willow was with had been telling her about his family, but had waited to make his presence known.  He wanted to know what this
guy's intentions were toward the young witch.  Obviously more than friendship if his grabby hands were any indication.

"Yeah, sure, Angel.  I just have to put this away." Willow shut the book and stood up.  Rick stood up with her.  She started to leave for the back room, but changed her mind and turned back to the two men who were facing each other.  "Oh, Angel, this is Rick, he works at the museum.  Rick, this is Angel, my...uh...." Willow was at a loss for words.  How did she explain Angel?  As her best friend's ex-soulmate? The recipient of her first major and successful spell?  The vampire with a soul she was currently staying with much to the extreme displeasure of her girlfriend and said best friend?  None of them would work without a more lengthy explanation attached.  "Um, my Angel," Willow blurted out and immediately blushed.  She practically ran to the back room before she said anything even more embarrassing.

Her Angel.  Now Rick understood Willow's reluctance to move past flirting.  Rick  sized up the other man.  He was big.  And good looking, he guessed.  His sister would probably have had more to say on that subject.  Evy was into the dark and dangerous and this guy exuded a quiet menace.  He didn't seem to be Willow's type, she seemed like she would be more attracted to brains than brawn.  "So, you and Willow live together?"

"Yeah." Angel didn't elaborate.  He didn't offer Rick any assurances of mere friendship between he and Willow.  After all, he was her Angel. Angel smiled to himself.  The inadvertent and innocent way she had just laid claim to him was just another example of how Willow charmed him. Over the last month that she had been staying with him, the slight crush he had always had on her and the intense obsession his demon had carried, had transformed into a full blown attraction.  Angel wanted Willow and he was glad that she couldn't explain him away as a friend. It could mean that the attraction was mutual, as her Freudian slip had also indicated.  Not that he could do anything about it but dream.  He knew that he would find the happiness forbidden to him in Willow's arms.

"You've known each other long?" Rick continued with the small talk.  He wanted to see how serious Willow's relationship was with this Angel. She hadn't mentioned him before.  She had said something about staying with a friend, not living with a man.  It could be that this wasn't a romantic relationship.

"Around six years." Again Angel didn't add details.  It wasn't his fault that the guy didn't ask specific questions.

"Okay, I'm ready." Willow came out of the back room with her jacket. "See you tomorrow, Rick."

"We still on for lunch?" Rick glanced at Angel for his reaction.  If he was Willow's boyfriend than he would protest or something.  Nothing. The guy's face was stone, his jaw didn't even tighten with repressed jealousy.

The manners his mother had ingrained in him from boyhood gave Angel the advantage of automatically helping Willow with her jacket.  "Better make it a late lunch.  It's already eleven and you're going to be up for a while longer yet, Alainn."  A smile lurked on Angel's features as the boy's hands clenched into fists and he gritted his teeth.  It was nice to have someone perceive him as a threat for a woman's affections and not as merely some handsome statue made untouchable not because he was made of stone, but because of a stupid clause in a curse.

"Is two o'clock okay, Rick?" Willow frowned.  Angel didn't have that quiet urgency he usually did when Cordelia had a vision and an innocent life was on the line.  Researching a new nasty was the only thing she could think of that would keep her up most of the night.  There were things that would keep her and Angel up all night that she dreamed about sometimes, more often in the last month, but that was impossible. Even if Angel's soul was secure, he would hardly pick her to indulge in his happiness with or even to fool around a bit.

"That's fine.  Good night, Willow." Rick sighed, noticing that Willow was already gone mentally if not physically.  He didn't have a chance, her bulldog boyfriend had made sure of that.  Rick was going to have to settle for friendship, which was too bad because Willow was one of the most beautiful women he had ever met.  Maybe she would change her mind.  He still had two months.

The skyline was beautiful at night.  The lights of the buildings glittered against the dark curtain of the sky.  Lilah didn't notice. The only beauty she saw was in the file sitting on her desk.  The Marxim file.  Eliot Marxim was a thief, someone typically beneath Lilah's notice, but she was in need of his particular talent.

Lately, Angel had become more of a pest than usual.  He had picked up a witch that had helped him foil many of Lilah's recent plans and she was
starting to look bad.  Looking bad was not good for your health at Wolfram and Hart.  Unfortunately, the senior partners hadn't given up on the idea of turning Angel into his evil counterpart Angelus, so simply eliminating him and his witch was out of the question.

Lilah removed a glossy photo from the file.  The invasive still showed Angel with his hand pressed intimately on the small of the girl's back as he guided her through the doorway of the hotel.  She was pretty, this Willow Rosenberg, in a fresh, innocent way.  Just what she needed. Unlike the males at Wolfram and Hart, Lilah knew what made Angel tick. They had thought that Darla would be able to seduce him back into her fold with her wicked ways, but it hadn't worked for the simple reason that Angel had a hard on for innocence.  It was in his past with Angelus' obsession with nuns and convents and it was in his present with Angel's penchant for rescuing damsels.  It wasn't a vampy siren that would be Angel's downfall, it would be this red haired ingenue. Angel was already playing with fire having her live with him.  With a little help from the Amulet of Sekhmet that Marxim was currently acquiring, he would get burned.  And Lilah would get promoted.

"Working late?" A soft feminine voice made Lilah look up.  A tall, caramel haired black woman a few years Lilah's junior stood in her doorway.  A shorter blonde man with a frosty Aryan look stood by her side.  Lilah recognized them both as law clerks.

"Excuse me?" Lilah shut the file on her desk, but didn't bother to stand up.

"I'm Angelique Dane.  This is my partner, Corwin Banes." Angelique stepped into Lilah's office.  "We're Dane, Banes and Mammon - Mammon is our silent partner."

The name of the demon of avarice made Lilah uneasy.  A silent partner indeed.  "What do you want?  I'm sure that if I contact our senior partners.... "

"You don't have to.  Your senior partners are also ours.  They've decided that Wolfram and Hart has become too conspicuous so they've formed our law firm as well.  We're taking over the Imhotep case.  It's too important for you to allow Angel to foul it up."

"I don't allow Angel to do anything.  I'm taking care of him," Lilah hissed.

"The senior partners have heard that before." Angelique walked to Lilah's desk.  She held out her hand displaying the small brand in the middle of her palm.  A reddened circle with the head of ram inside had charred black flesh still clinging to the raised ridges.  It was fresh. "Give me the Imhotep file."

The senior partners were serious.  Lilah rubbed her palm with her thumb, she herself had just been branded a few months ago.  It was easily hidden with a simple spell.  It was a symbol of loyalty and it wasn't something that the senior partners doled out to all of their employees.  Their fair-haired boy, Lindsey MacDonald, had never been branded and yet they marked this upstart.  Lilah stood up and got the file.  She handed it over, glad for her habit of making copies.  This didn't look good for her.  She was going to have turn Angel to their side and find Imhotep before Dane and Banes could usurpher position at Wolfram and Hart and she was sent to see the senior partners for the last time.

The bed was comfortable.  The pillows were soft and plump, the comforter wrapped around her in warm cocoon softness.  It was quiet. All the things conducive to a good night's rest.  Willow sighed and sat up.  She couldn't sleep.  She threw the covers aside and climbed from the bed.  She made her way downstairs to the kitchen without turning on any lights, she had lived here long enough to know the way.

That was one of the reasons why Willow couldn't sleep.  Tara had called and the main topic of their conversation had been how Willow had lived
with Angel long enough.  Eventually, Willow had hung up.  She felt guilty about just hanging up on Tara, but she was also tired of reassuring her.  Tara believed that Willow loved her or she didn't and there was nothing more Willow could say to convince her.  She was tired of the argument and Buffy's irrational jealousy wasn't helping matters.

"Yeah, Buffy, Angel and I have been having a torrid affair and this museum internship is just an elaborate ruse for us to hump like bunnies," Willow grumbled to herself as she opened the fridge to get some juice.

"Really?  It would probably work better then if you spent less time at the museum flirting with your friend Rick and more time here with me." Angel smiled at Willow's surprised shriek.  He had been sitting in the dark kitchen, nursing a mug of blood and contemplating - not brooding - his attraction to Willow and what to do about it when the object of his thoughts had walked downstairs.  He would have said something sooner, but he had wanted a few more moments to enjoy the sight of her in her dark red satin pajama jacket.  It barely reached her knees.

"Angel, why are you sitting in the dark?  Do I have to call Cordelia?" Willow scolded gently.  She sat down at the table, curious as to why her friend was in a brood.  It was actually unusual behavior for him these days.  She knew that their friends had to be okay, Angel would have been devastated if something had happened to Cordelia, Wesley, Gunn, or Fred, not just quietly depressed.  "Did you lose someone tonight?  Were you too late to save them?"

"No. Patrol went great."

"Speaking of that, why did you tell Rick that I would be up late and then take off as soon as you brought me back home?  I thought Cordelia had had a vision or something and you needed my help." Willow sipped her juice from the carton.  This was the second reason why she couldn't sleep.  Angel's behavior at the museum was puzzling.

"Sorry.  I thought you wanted him to back off from hitting on you." Angel was warmed by Willow's reference to the hotel as home.  Home was a place where you were safe and loved.  Willow felt safe and loved with him in his home.  Her home. "You spoke to Tara tonight?"

For a moment, Willow allowed herself the indulgence of imagining that Angel was jealous of Rick's interest in her, but had to finally admit to herself that it was more likely a big brother-like overprotectiveness.  "Yes." Willow sighed as she answered his question. She wanted to stop thinking about her girlfriend and their troubled relationship.  It didn't have to be this hard, that was what was so frustrating.  "Is this why you left Sunnydale, Angel?  Did the lack of trust get to you until you had to leave?"

"It was one reason." Angel's mind flashed briefly to the wary look in Buffy's eyes and the way her muscles would tense in defense, not sexual
pleasure, with every kiss they had shared after he had returned from Hell.  Buffy had never trusted him, not even when they had made love. She had allowed him to take her virginity, but she hadn't given in to the passion fully and allowed him to please her.  If he had realized that at the time, he wouldn't have found that moment of peace, of complete happiness, that had been his downfall.  Even on that stolen day when he had been human, Buffy had kept checking to make sure that he was alive, that it wasn't some trick and she would be laying next to Angelus.  Angel couldn't really blame her for that, he was a vampire and she was the slayer.  He did blame her for the murderous gleam in her eye when she had discovered him with Faith though.  He could only guess at the amount of jealousy she felt for her best friend at this moment.  "Tara doesn't really think we're sleeping together, does she?"

"I don't know.  It's not just you." Willow stood up and paced the kitchen.  "Every time a guy smiles at me or I talk to one, she thinks I'm going to have sex with him or at least she accuses me of wanting to have sex with him.  She's so insecure because she's the first woman I've loved, the only woman, but I can't take the distrust.  It's destroying my feelings.  I don't want to be around her right now.  I thought that some distance would help and it might have if Buffy hadn't freaked."

"Buffy is just being Buffy.  She doesn't want me to move on.  I can't believe that Tara is taking her seriously, doesn't she know about the clause in my curse?"

"Yes, but apparently she and Buffy have decided that we can still have sex.  I guess they aren't convinced of my ability to make you that happy," Willow said sourly.  It was a bitter pill to swallow.  Her best friend and girlfriend both thought that Angel wanted her enough to have sex with her, but that her performance is so abysmal his soul is jsut fine.

"They would be wrong."  Angel looked at Willow as she stopped at the counter.  She faced him, her mouth dropped open slightly in surprise. She blushed a rosy pink, but her eyes didn't drop his gaze.  Instead they lit up with her smile.

"Thank you, Angel." Willow walked over to the table.  She leaned down and kissed his cheek.  "You would make me very happy too," she whispered into his ear.  "Good night."

"Good night," Angel replied automatically, stunned and aroused by Willow's response.  She hadn't shied away in fear and embarrassment as she would have a few years ago.  God, he wished he could be the one to make her happy.

It was early morning when his plane landed in this foreign land of America.  Untouched by time, the Med-jai warrior, Ardeth Bay, walked out of the airport.  He shifted uncomfortably in the constricting western clothing, the button down shirt and jeans clinging to him in a way his robes never did.  He got into the nearest cab.  He felt strange without his horse and the hot desert sands blowing around them, but leaving his homeland had become necessary.  He Who Shall Not Be Named had been lost and the Med-jai had learned that he was in the New World. Ardeth Bay checked the address on the paper again.

Allah had blessed his journey thus far and would lead him to the descendants of his good friends, Rick and Evelyn, may their God rest their souls, and he would have allies in his quest.  He Who Shall Not Be Named must not rise again.  The evil must be defeated once and for all.
 

~Part Two~

It was with a lighter heart that Willow woke up the next morning.  Her conversation with Angel had done wonders for her mood - not to mention her self esteem.  Angel thought he would lose his soul if they made love!  She had fallen asleep quickly with dreams of them doing exactly that and had woken up restless.  Not being able to cure herself by  acting on her dreams, Willow had decided to go for a run.  Now back at the Hyperion, she had just enough time to shower, change, chat with Cordelia and change again into the clothes that the Seer approved of before she met Rick for lunch.  Angel was probably still sleeping.

A brown FedEx van pulled up as Willow ran up the steps to the front door and she stopped and waited for him.  She began stretching to cool down.  "Hello," she greeted the uniformed delivery man cheerfully.

"I have a package for a Miss Willow Rosenberg." The man held out a clipboard.

"That's me." Willow took the board and signed the papers on it where indicated while the man went back to his truck to load a rather large box onto a trolley.  "Thank you.  I'll get someone to help me bring it in."  Willow handed the guy his clipboard once he had finished sliding the box from his trolley.  "You have a nice day too!" she yelled after the retreating figure.

An envelope was taped to the box.  It was lavender with a black cat sitting in the bottom corner.  It was Tara's stationary and her handwriting on the address.  Willow sat down on the step beside the box and pulled the envelope off.  Maybe it was an apology gift.  Maybe Tara had finally realized how silly she was being.  It was an awfully big box though.  Willow opened the envelope and took out the letter.

On some level, the words made sense.  They must have had meaning to some part of her brain or else she wouldn't be so numb.  Or cold.  Willow wrapped her arms around herself and dropped her head to her knees, curling herself into a ball.  She wanted to cry, but her tears were lost.  This was shock.  Funny, she had never felt it like this before.  Not when Buffy died or when Oz had left her.

"Willow, I thought I heard you out here, but when you didn't come in..." Cordelia's voice penetrated the paralysis of Willow's brain. "Willow?"  A tentative hand touched her shoulder.  She felt the letter being tugged from her fingers.  After a few moments she heard Cordelia yell, "Wesley, Gunn, go wake up Angel!"  Again Willow felt Cordelia's hands on her arm as she tried to get her to stand up.  "Willow, please, you have to come inside.  Angel can't come out here.  Oh, Willow, I'm so sorry."  This time Willow helped Cordelia when she tried to get her to stand up.

Fred hovered in the doorway.  "Angel's on his way down."  Fred moved aside as Cordelia guided Willow inside.  Her eyes widened as Angel came
rushing down the stairs, his shirt still in his hands.  His chest was so broad and...and...Fred's mind scattered into a million different thoughts so she couldn't focus on one.  She noticed the big box on the step.  Angel was pulling on his shirt.  His muscles rippled with his movement.  An involuntary strangled squeak found its way out of her mouth.  Fred hated when that happened.  Something to do, she needed something to do.  She tugged at the box to drag it inside.  Willow would probably want it inside.  Unless it was what upset her.  Fred hesitated.  But it was just a box.  A closed box, not open.  How could a closed box upset someone?  Willow was a witch, maybe she could see inside without opening it.  Fred's eyes widened.  Now what was she supposed to do?  The box was sitting halfway in the doorway, she couldn't leave it there.  It was with a relieved sigh and grateful
smile that Fred greeted Gunn when he walked over and helped her pull the box the rest of the way into the room.  Angel had his shirt on finally.

"Willow?" Angel sat down beside the still girl sitting on the couch. Wesley had woken him up from a very pleasant dream involving the huddled figure at his side.  He looked to Cordelia for an answer to why Willow was so shell-shocked, worry shining in his dark brown eyes. She just handed him a light purple piece of paper.  "Willow, since you're enjoying living with him so much, stay there.  Don't bother coming back.  I've packed up the rest of your clothes and books and sent them to you.  The rest of your stuff is with Spike at his crypt. Buffy didn't want it.  I doubt Xander will either when he and Anya get back from their honeymoon."

"She didn't sign it.  Or make the flower garden around her signature that she always doodles when she writes me a note."  Willow leaned into Angel's comforting embrace.  She didn't have a home.  Or a girlfriend. Or best friends.  She just had her stuff in boxes in Spike's crypt. How was she going to fix this?  What was she supposed to do now?  She knew what Buffy and Tara wanted her to do.  Crawl back to Sunnydale on her hands and knees begging for forgiveness.  They wanted her to tell them that she was wrong, that she would never do anything they didn't like again.  She wouldn't look or talk to guys.  She wouldn't do any spells that weren't approved by them first.  She would go back to being a quiet follower.  Well, they could stuff it!  Willow sat up straight. "I have to go shower.  I promised to meet Rick for lunch."

"Willow?" Angel watched Willow stand up.  She had pulled herself together amazingly quickly.  "Maybe you should cancel.  We can talk instead."  It wasn't a completely selfish suggestion, he was concerned for her welfare.  Willow was repressing her feelings and he didn't want her to break down later and cry on Rick's shoulder.  She needed a friend who understood her, not a stranger.

"I'm fine, Angel." Willow smiled.  She wasn't lying, she was over her initial shock and now she was just angry.  She had dealt with Buffy and Tara's expectations for long enough.  It was time they tried to see things her way.  "I really am. If this is what Tara wants, then I can't change her mind and I don't want to.  I'm here because this is where I want to be right now and if Tara and Buffy don't like it, that's their problem."

The angry glint in Willow's eye was heartening.  Angel doubted that she would break down just yet, her indignation would carry her through the
next few days at least.  "You can stay here as long as you like, Willow."  She could stay with him forever as far as he was concerned, no matter how tempting it was having her around.  Tara was an idiot for throwing her away because of Buffy's paranoid and jealous ranting.

"Thanks, Angel." Willow reached down and squeezed his hand.  She had Angel.  She noticed the concerned faces of Cordelia, Wesley, Gunn, and
Fred.  She had friends.  She had a home.  She hadn't lost everything. "Do you mind if I call Spike and ask him to bring the rest of my stuff here?"

"As long as he doesn't plan on staying." Angel absently rubbed his ribs.  It took a while to forget the feeling of red hot pokers shoved through your side, but he would suffer the bleached idiot's presence as long as he was bringing Willow's stuff.

"Who is Spike?" Fred asked eagerly.  She liked meeting new people now, as long as they were Angel's friends.  She liked Willow.  She was really nice and Fred didn't even mind that Angel looked at her with that hungry look, like Willow was a rare blood type.  She didn't expect Angel to ever look at her like that - she wasn't beautiful like Willow and Cordelia.  Fred was content to adore him and be his friend.

"You don't want to know." Cordelia rolled her eyes.  "He's evil and a vampire and he used to be in love with this other vampire that Angel turned all looney back in his evil days, but now he has the hots for Buffy.  Spike is sick and twisted and obviously suffers from chronic bad taste.  Stay away from him, Fred."

"He's not that bad anymore.  You should see him with Dawn, it's down right cute."  With that last defense of Spike, Willow left them to debate the issue among themselves.  She actually felt a pang as she thought of the former Big Bad Vampire and the Slayer's little sister. They were the only two people who hadn't driven her out of Sunnydale and she was going to miss them.

As she walked upstairs to her room, Willow wondered at how easily she accepted her move from Sunnydale to Los Angeles.  There had been a time
when she couldn't have possibly conceived of a life without the Scooby Gang, but things had changed since she had brought Buffy back from the
dead.  Buffy had pulled away from her.  And everyone else, with the exception of Spike and Dawn, pretended that they weren't afraid of her. The internship and staying with Angel in L. A. was supposed to have been a break from her friends, her girlfriend, and her powers.  When she had helped out at Angel Investigations, it had strictly been in a computer hacker capacity and some minor spells to kill demons.  Now that it was looking like her vacation was permanent, maybe she should let Angel and the others know the full extent of her powers.  Maybe she should tell them exactly how Buffy came back from the dead and hope that they didn't react in the same way her other friends had.

Damn!  He was going to be late.  Rick stepped out of the shower, hastily rubbing a towel over his wet hair.  He bet Angel was never late.  He was probably always early.  Rick slapped on some cologne and gazed critically at his reflection in the foggy mirror.  Could his hair get any flatter?

A brief knock warned him two seconds before the bathroom door swung open.  "God, Rick, anyone would think you were the girl in this family," Evy O'Connell declared as she walked into the small room.  She reached across her brother and opened the medicine cabinet.  Her image swung by - dark honey blond hair gathered in a bouncy ponytail, dark brown eyes and lightly bronzed olive skin.  She looked nothing like her namesake even though Grandpa Alex seemed to think she was Dr. Evelyn Carnahan O'Connell reincarnated.  "Get the hell out, Rick.  I don't care how hot this chick is, your bathroom time is up."

His sister's impatience was nothing new to Rick, so he let her push him out into the hallway.  He had to get dressed anyway.  "Gee, Evy, what's
the rush?  Don't you usually save your action for late night rendezvous with your overgrown gorillas you call dates?"  He grinned when his only
answer was a door shut in his face.  Sometimes he thought his sister purposefully set out to pick up the wrong kind of guy, someone she couldn't love, but he didn't have time to contemplate his sister's love life.  Rick rushed to his room and got dressed.  He had gone for casual/normal - blue button down shirt which he left open at the neck and dark pants.  "Hey, Grandpa Alex, I'm going out for lunch now," Rick called as he walked downstairs.  The bottom floor was a jungle clutter of Egyptian relics collected by various members of his family in the last eighty years or so.  His grandfather could usually be found buried deep among his treasures reliving his youth and remembering his beloved parents.  "Grandpa?" Rick made his way into the library.

"Warrior Knight," Alex O'Connell greeted his only grandson.  He looked so much like the father he had worshiped as a boy and a man, right down to the pyramid-shaped tattoo with the eye of Horus on the side of his right hand.  The tattoo proclaimed his grandson a Knight of Templar - a warrior of God and protector of man - although the boy had no idea of his destiny yet.  "Did I ever tell you about The Scorpion King?" It was important that his grandson listen to his stories, it was the only way he would be prepared for his duty.

"Yes, Grandpa, you have." Rick shook his head at his grandfather's nickname for him.  He refused to tell him why he called him that, he would just say that he would know in time and then launch into another story.  Rick loved his grandfather, he really did, but he told his stories about Egyptian gods, mummies, and med-jai warriors like they were real and he always had so they couldn't even blame it on senile dementia.  "I've got to go.  I'm meeting a lady for lunch and I'm already late."

"Well, we can't have that. 'Love that lasts longer than the temples of the gods.'  It's a rare and wonderful thing and once you've found it, you don't let it go." Alex sighed.  He had spent his life searching for what his parents had shared, but had only caught it in fleeting glimpses.  He had loved Grace, Rick and Evy's grandmother, but that love had faded as he had chased the mysteries of Egypt that his parents had opened up for him and Grace had gotten tired of following.  She had settled down here in Los Angeles with their son, Rick Junior, who had become a bank manager, and they had built a life without him. Luckily, his grandchildren had caught the family Egypt bug and they had traveled to London to find him and brought him back here once he had retired.  He loved his grandchildren and he wanted them to find what had eluded him his whole life - enduring love.

"I don't plan on it.  She's special, Grandpa." Rick winked at his grandfather and got a chuckle in return as he left the library.  He opened the front door just as a strange looking man was about to ring the bell.  His long dark hair was pulled back in a low ponytail and intricate designs were tattooed across his cheekbones.  There was something about him that made him seem out of place - like he didn't belong in this time.  "Can I help you?"

"Rick O'Connell, can it be you, my old friend?" The man looked at him in wonder.

"We've never met.  I'm Rick O'Connell the third."  It was silly, but the thought actually entered his head that this man had known his great grandfather.  Stupid.  The man was only a few years older than he was.

"Of course.  You greatly resemble...pictures of your great grandfather. Is Alexander O'Connell still living?"

"Yeah." Rick turned and yelled, "Grandpa, there's someone at the door for you.  Look, I have to go, I'm late." Rick moved past the stranger and ran down the front steps.

Alex heard his grandson's jeep start up and he knew that the boy had left their guest standing on the front steps.  This girl must be special if she made him forget the manners his grandmother had instilled in him.  "One moment, please," Alex called out as he made his way to the front door.  Navigating the clutter was not his only problem, mentally he cursed the arthritis in his joints that slowed him down and made him feel ancient.  "I apologize...." the rest of Alex's words were lost as he looked up and saw a face from his past. It was the face that he almost thought was part of a dream or fantasy he had had as a boy.  It certainly wasn't possible that it was looking at him now.  But then most people would think that it wasn't possible for mummies to live and for the dead to be brought back to life. "Ardeth Bay...you look exactly...how?"

"It's a long story, my young friend, and we have other concerns." Ardeth Bay looked at the old man before him, but in his mind's eye he saw a blond haired moppet of eight. "He Who Shall Not Be Named is in  danger of being woken."

"Imhotep."

It was all right there.  Everything Angelique Dane had ever wanted and dared to dream about was within her grasp.  Once she had proven herself
to the senior partners, her life would be golden.  Her first step was to find the mummy, Imhotep, and the next would be to give him life again.  The people Lilah Morgan had hired to track down the mummy had been very thorough and methodical - they had checked every tomb in Egypt and every museum in the world.  They had found nothing.  Ever since she had been hired by Wolfram and Hart last year, Angelique had watched Lilah Morgan.  She knew Lilah's weaknesses and her strengths. Lilah's biggest weakness was that she always approached things as a lawyer.  She made plans and looked at things logically.  Thinking would not get them Imhotep, acting would.  Angelique was content to let Lilah plot and plan and play her games with Angel.  It would keep her occupied while Angelique went after her job.  Then it would be her turn to play games with Angel.

"Everything is in place, Angelique." Corwin Banes stood in the doorway of his half-sister's office.  Their offices were located in an office building next to the Wolfram and Hart Tower, it was hardly prestigious and it was not Angelique's ultimate goal.  Corwin was well aware that he didn't have the balls to make it at Wolfram and Hart on his own, but Angelique did.  His sister had a driving ambition that should have been scary except that it got them what they both wanted.  He was content to be her shadow and let her take the risks while he shared in the rewards.  "When we have his grandson, he'll have no choice but to give us the location of Imhotep."

"Good.  I hope the basement is ready for our guest?"  At Corwin's nod, Angelique allowed herself a brief satisfied smile.  This wasn't the time to get smug, she couldn't afford it yet.

"A guest?  Are you sure?  This office is rather small."  Lilah pushed past the annoying iceman.  Eavesdropping on them had told her very little and neither had having their backgrounds picked over with a fine-toothed comb.  As far as Lilah could tell, Angelique and Corwin had pasts like most of the high-ranking junior partners at Wolfram and Hart - dirt poor with a yen for the grass on the other side of the fence.  The only intriguing part was the fact that they shared a father.  The old man had had his fun with Angelique's mother before leaving her pregnant and marrying Corwin's mother.  "I believe that your brother intercepted a package for me this morning.  I want it."

"The Imhotep case is mine.  I was instructed to gather all the evidence you had at your disposal.  The Amulet of Sekhmet is Egyptian, so I assumed...."

"That would be your first mistake.  The Amulet has nothing to do with a rotting mummy.  Hand it over." Lilah tilted her chin up and let her eyes go dangerously frosty.  This bitch wasn't going to get her knock off Gucci-clad feet  over the threshold of Wolfram and Hart again if she had anything to do with it.  This small hole on the side was as far as Angelique Dane was going to get in life.

"Certainly.  It must be important if you want it so badly." Angelique took a rectangular box wrapped in navy crepe paper and tied with a pink bow out of her desk drawer and held it out.  She had known all along that this 'present' had nothing to do with Imhotep, she had just wanted to gage its importance to the other lawyer and to see how threatened Lilah felt.  If she had been unconcerned by Angelique then she would have sent her assistant.  "A present for Angel?"

"No, it's for a friend of his."  Lilah snatched the box from her rival's hands and stalked out of the offices of Dane, Banes, and Mammon.

"Sekhmet was the Egyptian goddess that protected the good and annihilated the wicked.  Whoever wears the amulet will be possessed by the goddess," Corwin informed Angelique as soon as Lilah was well out of earshot.  "Why would Lilah Morgan want to give such power to one of Angel's friends?"

"Since everything is in place on our only other case, why don't you occupy yourself with finding that out, little brother." Angelique waved Corwin out of her office.  She was looking forward to meeting their guest and getting to know him better.

"Mommy!  Mommy, look!" Chocolate covered hands pounded on the glass of the passenger-side window as the seven year-old boy gestured
frantically to garish banners fluttering in the breezy mall parking lot.

"Todd, stop that.  You're smudging the window."  Cheryl Elliott parked her car and brushed her bangs out of her eyes.  She needed a haircut.

"But, Mommy, I wanna go there!"  More fingerprints marred the surface as Todd pointed at the object of his desire.  A red banner flapped persistently in exclamation of its announcement in gold lettering 'Egyptian Mystery Carnival.'

"We'll look around, but only for a minute."  Cheryl sighed and got out of the car.  She followed her son as he excitedly ran toward the main entrance of the cheesy traveling carnival that had set up in her small town's mall parking lot.  It had a few small rides - a train with sphinx cars and a merry- go-round of mummy cases, she thought they were called sarcophagus, thrones, and pyramids - and a mini-museum in a long trailer.  She paid the five dollar entrance fee and almost groaned as Todd headed straight for the hokey museum.  She wondered what 'treasures' the hucksters who ran this place had managed to fake.

"Cool!" Todd exclaimed as he disappeared behind a curtain into the dark trailer.

"Todd, wait!" Cheryl called anxiously as her excited son left her sight.  She handed the attendant two dollars and rushed in after him. Who knew who was lurking around in there?

The light was dim to enhance the realness of the exhibits in the display cases.  Todd passed by broken pottery, crumbling parchment, and fake jewelry without pausing and headed to the back of the trailer.  For once, her son's chocolatey fingers marked up someone else's glass as he pressed against a large window, his interest captured by the grotesqueness on the other side.  Two crumbling, rotting corpses clutched each other in a macabre embrace.  The one seemed to be gripping the other by the throat.

"King Anotep and his bride Princess Anck-Nu," Cheryl read from the placard.  "That's one hell of a paper-mache job."  She shook her head and reached down to pull her son away from the glass.  She nudged him out into the glaring daylight.  "That's enough, Todd, Mommy has shopping to do."

The skeletal fingers tightened imperceptibly on the neck of his 'bride.'  The gawking slaves were leaving.  When first he had been unearthed, Imhotep had thought that his time of glory was once again upon him.  Instead he was stuck in here with she who had betrayed him. The consciousness of Imhotep roared in impendent rage.  Twice he had almost ruled this world with an iron fist.  Someone, someone would recognize who he was and release him.  He would not be stopped a third time.
 

~Part Three~

The sun fell on the flames of her red hair like a beacon, so Rick spotted Willow immediately.  She was partially shaded by the umbrella she was seated under in the outdoor area of the museum's café.  He and Willow had met here often for lunch since she had started her internship at the museum.  As usual, she was reading a book while she waited and drinking an iced tea.

"Sorry, I'm late." Rick glanced at his watch.  He was very late - twenty minutes.  "I'm really sorry."

"It's okay." Willow smiled at Rick as he sat down.  Being alone had given her time to sit in the sun and relax and put Tara's harshly worded letter behind her.  Talking to Spike had helped too.  She had given him a call on her cell while she waited and he had promised to be on his way to L. A. with her stuff as soon as the sun set, even though he had grumbled about her choice in room-mate.

"No, it's rude and I have no excuse."  Well, he did, but Rick wasn't about to tell Willow that it had taken him an hour to decide what to wear, a half hour to choose a cologne, and then another hour to shower and change when that choice had proven to be disastrously wrong.  Evy had asked him when he had gotten a pet skunk which had prompted him to turn around and head back upstairs.  "I insist on buying lunch."  This was the brainchild he had come up with in the Jeep on the way over here.  It was a great way to apologize and if he paid, it was like a date.

"If you insist," Willow graciously conceded without argument.  It was nice that someone wanted to be with her enough to buy her lunch.  She
glanced over as she sensed someone approach and paled visibly when she realized it wasn't the waitress.

"Willow, are you okay?"  Rick reached across the table and took  Willow's hand.  It was ice cold and all the color had left her face. Rick turned to see what had caught Willow's wide-eyed stare and  frowned.  He had never seen a FedEx man inspire such alarm before.

"I have a package for a Miss Rosenberg.  Your supervisor said you would be here for lunch and the waitress pointed you out." The man held out his clipboard.  Tucked under his arm was a wrapped package.

Willow stared at the exact same delivery guy who had shattered her world earlier that morning and he didn't even remember her. Wordlessly, she took the clipboard and signed it.  He handed her a rectangular box wrapped in navy crepe paper and tied with a pink bow. A small card was attached.  Willow opened the card and relaxed.  "It's from Angel."  Warmth inundated her heart as she thought about Angel buying her a gift, having it wrapped so beautifully, and then sending it to her - it wasn't his fault it was the same rude FedEx guy - all to cheer her up.  He really did care.  'Willow, a token of my affection, Angel.'  Willow read the card to herself.  She fingered the smooth satin pink bow and debated whether or not to open it right away. Especially in front of Rick, it might be a 'personal' present - something witchy or affectionate like the note said.

It was with a sinking heart that Rick watched Willow tuck the present into her purse.  She didn't want to open it in front of him which meant she expected the present to be of the intimate variety.  So much for this being a date.  He had to hand it to Angel, he really knew how to protect his interests.  He knew that Willow wouldn't appreciate any jealous demands that she cancel their lunch, so instead he interrupted it subtly by sending her a present.  The guy was good and he obviously cared a lot for Willow.  And judging by the way her face lit up when she saw who the present was from, Willow felt the same way.

"Are you ready to order?" Rick decided not to pursue the matter of the present and ignore it instead.  Angel might have ruined the date atmosphere, but he could still score points.  He wasn't so bad at this himself.  "Let me guess...grilled chicken salad and a side order of cheese fries."

"How did you know?" Willow put down her menu and laughed softly.  "I'm not that predictable am I?"

"Nah, that's what you ordered the first time we had lunch.  You had just been here at museum for a week and you were nervous.  I figured it was your comfort food."

"The cheese fries are comfort food, because they're a favorite of my best friend, Xander's, and the salad is so I don't feel guilty about the comfort, a habit I inherited from my other best friend, Buffy." Willow looked up as a man in a dark suit approached their table and for a reason she wasn't quite sure of, he creeped her out.

"Mr. O'Connell."  The man spoke quietly and politely.  "I have a gun and if you don't want your pretty friend or anyone else dead than I suggest that you stand up and come with me." The man looked at Willow. "You'll be coming with us, to ensure his co-operation.  Same rules. If either of you tries to run or call for help, I will kill the first innocent bystander I see - whether it's a five year old girl or a fifty year old man.  Do you understand?"

"You think you can intimidate me with groundless threats?" Rick's fists clenched.  One good swing and this would all be over.  Asshole thought he could threaten Willow!  Rick started to rise, but Willow's hand on his arm stopped him.

"Rick, he's serious."  Willow stood up, glancing warily around them. Grandparents, mothers, fathers, children, lovers, and friends - they surrounded them - and Willow couldn't stop the image of their blood spattered bodies littering the patio from entering her mind.  She knew what creeped her out about this guy, he was a demon, she could feel it. "Let's just go with him."  She sent her trepidation to Rick.

A quicksilver flash of the potential carnage that could happen imprinted itself in Rick's brain and he calmed down.  He couldn't jeopardize these people's lives.  He would have to figure out how to get Willow out of this once they were away from the crowd.  Rick took Willow's arm as they preceded the man out of the café.

*****

The museum was dark and empty when Angel entered it from the employees entrance that the night guard had opened for him like he had the night
before.  But unlike the other night, it was truly deserted.  Willow wasn't there.  Her sweet, fluttering heartbeat didn't beckon him and the scent that was uniquely hers didn't linger in the air.  She hadn't been here in a long time.

Angel moved toward the back rooms where the offices were located. Willow had given him a tour when she had first started her internship and he had met her supervisor that night too.  The guy's office was back here.  Angel rapped lightly on the door even though he knew that the guy hadn't stayed late since that first night.  The door wasn't locked so Angel entered the office easily.  The red message light was flashing on his answering machine, drawing Angel's attention.  He pushed the play button.

"Hanson, Morty here, I need to speak with you about some recent acquisitions O'Connell brought in.  You have my number, use it when you get in."  The machine beeped loudly and moved to the next message. "Mr. Hanson, it's Rick O'Connell.  Willow isn't feeling well so I'm going to take her home.  Then I'll be out researching that urn we talked about yesterday.  It should take a few days, if you have to contact me you can leave messages on my voice mail and I'll get back to you."  The machine beeped again and shut off.

So, Mr. I-Know-How-To-Use-My-Voicemail had kidnaped Willow.  Why else would he lie about Willow being sick?  Because he certainly hadn't
taken her home.  If he had, Angel would be there now taking care of her - bringing her hot soup and making sure she was tucked into bed. Angel flipped through Mr. Hanson's Rolodex until he found Rick O'Connell's address.  As he stalked out of the office, he didn't let himself think the thought that was twisting in his gut.  Maybe where ever Rick had taken her, Willow had wanted to go.

*****

The steamy, spicy aroma of the tea Ardeth Bay had brought him mingled with the odor of the old books and relics in Alexander O'Connell's library.  He and his father's friend had wiled away the afternoon talking about past adventures instead of addressing Ardeth's reason for being in Los Angeles and his apparent youth.  Alex sat behind his desk and let the raw wonder and awe he had felt the first time he had seen the Med-jai warrior wash over him as he indulged in the memory one last time.  It had been in his home in London and he had been eight years old.  He, his mother, and his father had just returned from Egypt where they had recovered The Scorpion King's chest.  Red-turbaned desert warriors had shown up to take it from them and Ardeth Bay had appeared in the nick of time - as heros often do.  The bad guys had taken the  chest and his mother, but the bracelet they had coveted inside the  chest had been on young Alex's wrist instead.  The much older Alex sighed and sipped his tea.  He missed his parents and their adventures.

"You wish to know why I am unchanged," Ardeth Bay said in his calm, even tone.  At first it had frightened him - to watch his friends and fellow warriors grow old and die while he remained young and strong - but it was what Allah wished and he accepted his fate.  Though it still saddened him to see someone such as Alex, whom he remembered as an energetic young lad, old and tired.  "I was chosen to become the Immortal Guardian of He Who Shall Not Be Named to ensure that he would not rise again.  It is prophesied that if he lives for a third time, it will bring darkness and death to this earth.  While I was away enduring the rites of Immortality, the remains were lost and I have been searching for him ever since."

"He's here.  In Los Angeles." Alex nodded.  It made sense now.  He had been contacted by a law firm a few weeks ago that had wanted to know
more about his parents' past.  The lawyer he had talked to - Lilah Morgan - had said she had a client interested in funding an archaeology scholarship in his parents' names as well as a few Egyptian digs.  She had been digging all right.  For Imhotep.  Alex was relieved that he had gone with his suspicious nature and had told her that he was retired and uninterested in reliving the past.

"He is near and I have failed my sacred duty.  I am afraid He shall rise and this time he will not be stopped." Ardeth Bay felt the weight of his defeat press against his heart.  In the presence of his great friend, Rick O'Connell's son, he was ashamed.  After the battles they had fought together against the Evil One, he had let his friends and the world down.

"Well, it hasn't happened yet, so all we have to do is find him first." Alex smiled, looking a lot like his father, but the determined tilt of his chin was more reminiscent of his mother.  The front door bell rang as Alex slowly stood up to start sifting through his books.

"I'll get it," Evy's yell forestalled Alex's halting progress out of the library.  She smiled at her grandfather and noticed the dark mysterious looking man with him in library.  She would have to come back and introduce herself.  "Hel-lo, I'm Evy O'Connell.  Who are you?" Thoughts of the mysterious stranger in the library were soon replaced with ones about the gorgeous creature standing at her front door.  This was her lucky day.

"I'm looking for Rick O'Connell."

The man was pissed about something and Evy felt a sliver of worry for her brother.  "He's not here.  He had a date and I guess it's going well." Evy smiled flirtatiously, maybe she could help her brother out and turn this guy's attention to other things.  All she got for her efforts was a darker scowl.  "They probably ended up at her place if I know my brother."

"You don't know Willow.  She lives with me," Angel growled.  Rage burned through his clenched muscles, but underneath the anger was a cold fear.  He was afraid that when he did find Rick and Willow, he would kill the slick young pup.  He was afraid that Willow was in trouble.  Most of all, Angel was afraid that he had lost the one woman who could truly be his soul/demon mate before he had a chance to love her.

So, this was Angel, Willow's maybe boyfriend.  He was certainly acting like one.  Evy dropped the charm, she wouldn't get through to this guy anyway and unlike her brother, she knew when to cut her loses and move onto the next fish.  "Look, buddy, if you have a problem keeping your girlfriend at home...." Evy trailed off as a FedEx van pulled up and a delivery man jumped out.  There was something about this seemingly normal event that gave her chill.

"I have a letter for an Alexander O'Connell." The man held out the clipboard, not caring if he had the right person or not.  Evy signed it and accepted the letter.  The delivery guy turned on his heel and left without waiting for a tip.

Evy ripped open the letter and read it, her face paling.  "Rick's been kidnaped."

"They have Willow."  It was with a strange relief that Angel snatched the letter from Evy and ran down the sidewalk to catch the FedEx guy by the scruff of his neck.  Willow wasn't with Rick in some hotel room, exorcizing her grief over her break up with Tara the old fashioned way. She was in trouble, but it was regular trouble, not demon trouble. Angel slammed the delivery guy against the van.  "Who sent this letter?"

"If the client wanted to be known, the letter would have been signed."

Angel smashed the guy's head into the side of the van.  "After I beat the shit out of you, I'm going to call your supervisor and let him know that you're taking in business after hours and off the books. Trust me, your client isn't paying you enough to cover the hospital bills and unemployment."

"Some fancy law firm downtown.  I don't remember which one."  Angel went colder inside at the struggling delivery man's answer.  It wasn't regular, non-demon trouble.  It was his worst nightmare coming true. Wolfram and Hart had Willow.

*****

The basement wasn't cold or damp, it was comfortable.  A double bed with a fluffy cream colored down comforter sat in the far corner with a
television, VCR, and a selection of movies.  A large mahogany bookcase stood against the wall, classics and pulp fiction novels lined up on its shelves.  A refrigerator hummed quietly in the other corner, a quick perusal had shown it contained fruit, juices, water, milk, and soft drinks.  The cupboards held glasses, plates, and junk food.  It was very homey, except that there were no windows and the door locked from the other side.  Instead of taking comfort in the obvious attempt to make the place cozy, Willow was worried.  Whoever had arranged for her and Rick to be kidnaped was planning on keeping them for a long time.  She glanced at the door, wishing that Angel would come busting through and wrap her in his arms, but knowing that he was just discovering that she was missing.

"Rick." Willow sat on the edge of the bed.  She brushed the hair from her unconscious friend's forehead and checked the bandage she had applied.  Once they had gotten away from the crowd and had reached their destination, Rick had tried to overpower the demon who had kidnaped them only to be hit in the head by another man with the butt of his gun.  It was him, the cold blond who had introduced himself as Corwin Banes, who had brought them down here.  That didn't sit well with Willow either, Corwin Banes obviously didn't care that they could identify him.  Willow quickly dampened her fear with the knowledge that Angel would be looking for her.  "Angel will find us."

"You have a lot of confidence in him." Rick opened his eyes slowly to meet Willow's concerned gaze.  His head thudded and he hoped Angel was a better hero than he had tried to be.  He didn't care if Angel got to save the day.  Willow's safety was more important then his competition with Angel for her affections.

"Yes, I do.  How's your head?" Willow helped Rick sit up.  The bolt on the door clicked and it opened.  Willow felt Rick's arm slide around her and pull her back against him protectively.

"Hello, Mr. O'Connell, I'm glad you're finally conscious.  I was worried you would ruin my plans." Angelique walked into the room.  She noted with interest Rick O'Connell's shielding of the girl.  "I'm Angelique Dane.  Who is your friend?"

"Let her go." Rick shoved himself off the bed and stood up, keeping Willow behind him.

"I'm afraid that's not an option, but don't worry, she won't be hurt. I need your grandfather's co-operation on a project and you are my  incentive.  Once he's done his part, I'll let you and your friend leave unharmed." Angelique gestured for a large guard to enter the room.  He looked like a normal man, as had the guy who had kidnaped them, but he gave Willow the same creepy feeling.  Another demon, her Hellmouth senses screamed at her.  "I promised your grandfather he would get a phone call from you about now.  Please, come with me."

"If you think I'm going to go along with this..." Rick shook his head. He tensed as the burly guard approached him.

"When I said that your friend wouldn't be hurt, it wasn't a promise. Any resistance you show us will be taken out on her." Angelique smiled when Rick relaxed and walked toward her with the guard.  She had been angry with Jacques when he had brought the girlfriend as well, but now she had seen the wisdom in his actions.  Rick O'Connell was a defiant stubborn, and thoroughly attractive young man who wouldn't think twice about endangering his own life.  But he was too much the hero to risk the girl's.

"Be careful, Rick," Willow warned.  Despite the demon minions, she was reasonably certain that Angelique Dane had no idea who or what she was and Willow planned to keep it that way.  Once they were gone, then it would be time to pull our her magic tricks and contact Angel telepathically.  Rick gave her a reassuring smile as he left with their captors.  Angelique Dane didn't even give Willow a second glance as she shut the door and locked it, which bolstered her theory that her identity was safe.

Left alone in the empty room, Willow stood up and walked to her purse which sat on the table.  She glanced covertly around as she rummaged
through it and took out her make-up mirror.  She didn't see any cameras, but that didn't mean they weren't there.  They had walked in as soon as Rick had regained consciousness - way too coincidental - so the room had to be monitored.  She couldn't do anything too showy. Willow stared at her eyes in the mirror.  She turned her focus inward, found her inner voice, and thought about Angel.  His handsome face came to her easily.  His dark eyes, his nose, his lips... In her mind, Willow reached out and brushed her fingertips along his cheek and down his jaw.  'Angel,' she called out with her mind. 'Angel, I'm fine. Look for Angelique Dane and Corwin Banes.' Willow pictured the man and the woman and sent those images with the message. 'Angel, I...' Abruptly, Willow felt her connection with Angel's mind break and she was snapped back to reality.  She stared into the mirror.

It was gone.  Willow frantically searched her mind, her soul, her whole being, for her power source.  It wasn't gone, it was bound.  Her magic had been bound.  Tara.  Tara was the only one who would do this to her. Tara and Buffy, but they would have needed Giles' help.  Anger made Willow's mouth go dry and she wanted to scream and break things, but couldn't indulge in a temper tantrum yet.  She had to get out of here with Rick safely first.  At least she had been able to send Angel something to help him find them.  Willow put her mirror away and noticed the gift.  She took it out and smiled.  Now was as good a time as any to open it.  Besides, it would cheer her up and remind her of Angel.  Maybe Angel had had a remonition and it was a charm to get her powers back.  Willow untied the ribbon and opened the box.
 

~Part Four~

This guy was crazy.  Evy O'Connell watched as Angel slammed the delivery guy against the van once more even though he had his answers. When they finally got her brother back, she was going to tell him to stay the hell away from this Willow.  It was obvious that Angel would kill for her.

"What's going on, Evy?" Evy could hear her Grandpa Alex shuffling slowly towards her.  She turned to help him, but his friend was behind him, lending his arm.

"Rick's been kidnaped," Evy answered her grandfather.  "Along with his friend, the girl he was meeting for lunch.  That's her other 'friend.'"  Evy nodded toward Angel who had let the Fed-Ex man go and was currently staring blindly at the sidewalk.  "We're supposed to get a phone call from the kidnappers soon."

When the Soulled One, who called himself Angel, turned to face them, Ardeth Bay saw the recognition flash in his eyes.  Neither of them had
changed very much over the years, which was to be expected considering what they were.  "Old friend."  Ardeth Bay inclined his head in respect at the vampire.

"You know him?" Evy's eyebrows raised suspiciously.  It was bad enough that her brother was in trouble again, she didn't want this mysterious
friend of her grandfather's putting him in danger too.  And if he was in any way connected to this jealous lunatic who went around beating delivery men, then he was trouble.

"Yes.  The Soulled One is a friend to the Med-jai.  He has helped us greatly in our quest."

"I think we best discuss this and Rick in my study."  Alex and Evy started to walk down the hall, but stopped when they noticed they weren't being followed.

"The Soulled One must be invited into your home," Ardeth Bay explained at their questioning looks.

"Fine, but I think this is taking Miss Manners a bit too far."  Evy frowned at Angel.  "Why don't you come in and join us, Soulled One? I'm Evy O'Connell and this is my Grandfather, Dr. Alexander O'Connell. Do you go by Soulled or One?"

"Angel."  Angel walked over the threshold into the house.  He followed the O'Connells and Ardeth Bay into a cramped and cluttered library. He suddenly wished that Wesley and Fred were with him.  These were obviously people that they would get along with.

"So." Alex settled himself into his chair behind his desk.  Evy perched herself on his desk.  It was a shielding gesture, his granddaughter was bristling with fury, worry, and fear.  She was fiercely protective of her family and it didn't help that her brother had a propensity for getting himself into trouble.  Luckily, he could also usually get himself out of it.  Alex wasn't that concerned about his grandson and he couldn't do anything until he got the phone call anyway.  "How did you become such a great friend to the Med-jai?  I know from personal experience that they don't make friends easily."

Angel and Ardeth Bay exchanged a look.  They weren't men of many words, but their story had to be told.

*****

It was 1949.  Most of the world was still preoccupied with rebuilding after World War II, but the Med-jai were dealing with another concern. One that would make the war a minor skirmish in history - the rise of He Who Shall Not Be Named.  A prophecy had been uncovered by the Nazis, although they had no idea what they had found, and it had eventually come to the attention of a museum curator who knew what the tattered diary was and who to contact about it.

The prophecy told of how He Who Shall Not Be Named would rise from the dead three times.  The third time, the world would be much changed
from what He knew.  He would search for his Beloved Princess and together they would rule in darkness.  The prophecy spoke of plagues, wars, feminine, and death for those who rebelled against the duo.  There had been only one solution - to elect an Immortal Guardian for He Who Shall Not Be Named to ensure that He would not rise.  And if the Immortal Guardian failed at that task, he was to ensure that He would never find his Princess.  The Med-jai had decided that since he had twice joined in the defeat of He Who Shall Not Be Named, Ardeth Bay was chosen as the Immortal Guardian.  The ritual that needed to be performed to transform him into the Immortal Guardian was simple, only made complex by the main ingredient - the blood of an immortal being.

As the Med-jai were pondering their dilemma, Angel woke up in the cargo hold of a ship.  It was pitch black, even with his demon night vision he had difficulty penetrating the darkness.  It also smelled of brine and the rotten fruit and fish of past shipments.  At least this cargo was furniture, material, and other personal belongings.  The first  thing he noticed upon waking was that the ship had finally stopped moving.  Angel had no idea where the ship had been going or for how long he had been in the cargo hold.  A gang of fledgling vampires had found him in a warehouse in London.  Instead of staking him, they had thought it incredibly funny to beat the once Scourge of Europe senseless and then dump him in the cargo hold of a ship.  He was a laughingstock among the vampires of Europe thanks to his damn soul and bitch of a sire.  Darla had spread the word about how pathetic and weak he was and, for some reason, she had also declared that she would torture and maim any vampire that dared stake him.
Even almost fifty years later, the threat had held up.  He wasn't dust.  He wondered how long Darla would let him wallow in guilt and filth before she finally sought him out to stake him herself.

The grinding sound of the cargo doors opening and the accompanying faint ray of light brought Angel out of his morose thoughts.  He scuttled back into a large crate that held an antique chest that he fit into if he curled up in a fetal position.  Being inside the chest reminded him uncomfortably of being in a coffin, but he had no choice. He couldn't take the chance of being caught as a stow-away.  They would try to make him work for his fare and push him out onto the deck where he would explode into a pile of dust.  Angel wanted his misery to end, but he didn't want it to end that way.  He didn't deserve an easy death.  He deserved the pain and humiliation a death at Darla's hands would bring.  He would wait for her.

Luckily, he hadn't spent much time in the chest.  The cargo hold hadn't been visited very often during the voyage so Angel had been free to roam the darkness and feed on the rats that inhabited the ship.  The cargo was unloaded quickly, the sailors anxious for some time on land.  Angel felt the crate he was in lifted and moved onto a truck.  The tight seal of the chest kept any light from touching him. He would be safe until sun set.  He let the gentle swaying of vehicle under him lull him into a restless sleep.

As Angel slept, time was running out for the Med-jai.  The ritual to transform Ardeth Bay into an Immortal Guardian had to be done before sunrise and the blood of an immortal being had yet to be found.  Ardeth Bay sat in a leather wing-back chair in the office of Zamir Nadair.  Zamir Nadair was a greatly respected elder of the Med-jai and a good friend.  It was he who had chosen Ardeth Bay as the Immortal Guardian and it was he who would perform the ritual.

"Sir, the ship has arrived and the truck is on the way."  Zamir Nadair's manservant bowed and left after delivering the message.

"Ah, yes, you must see this chest my friend, it belonged to an English general stationed here.  At the start of the war, he had it sent home to London.  He remembered that I had admired it and when he found himself in need of money to return to England, he offered to sell it to me."  Zamir Nadair stood up.  "But first we must prepare you for the ritual."

"We do not have the blood of an immortal being," Ardeth Bay pointed out, although he stood up as well.

"Have faith, my noble friend.  Allah will provide us with what we require."  Zamir Nadair led the way to another room.  This room was rarely used and sparsely furnished.  It held only a brazier in the middle of the floor that was decorated in intricate Med-jai designs reminiscent of their tattoos.  ON either side of the small fire was a dark red carpet.  Ardeth Bay settled himself on one while Zamir Nadair did the same on the other.  The elder Med-jai sprinkled some incense he had gotten from the pouch at his side onto the flames.  The thick scent of sandalwood permeated the air.  Both men closed their eyes and breathed deeply.

After a few moments, Zamir Nadair began the first part of the ritual - preparing the Guardian.  "Ardeth Bay, noble chieftain of the Med-jai, do you understand your duty?

"It is my duty as a Med-jai chieftain to protect the world from He Who Shall Not Be Named."

"Do you understand the duty of the Immortal Guardian?"

"The Immortal Guardian remains with He Who Shall Not Be Named.  As long as He is a menace to this world, the Immortal Guardian shall not age
nor die.  He will carry with him the knowledge of the evil that is He Who Shall Not Be Named and the curse of the Hom-Dai.  It is his sacred duty to ensure that the Age of Darkness does not come to pass."

"Ardeth Bay, noble chieftain and great warrior of the Med-jai, do you fully accept the duties of the Immortal Guardian?"

"As Allah wishes, I do."

"Do you accept the burden of immortality that must be born with such a duty?"

"As Allah, wishes, I do."  Ardeth Bay bowed his head.

"As Allah wishes, it shall be done."  Zamir Nadair bowed his head.  After a moment, the serious solemnity of his features was broken by a smile.  "Let us go back to my study.  I wish to see my new chest and it should have arrived by now."

The chest had indeed arrived and a very worried Angel was in it.  He had woken up when the truck had stopped and had felt the crate being
lifted and moved.  He hadn't been asleep that long and his vampire senses told him that the sun had not set yet.  He could hear voices speaking a strange language as the crate was broken open.  The chest itself would be opened soon and his presence discovered.  The element of surprise was on his side.  Maybe he could use it to escape into the sewers.  With a loud growl, Angel burst from the chest.

The chest was beautiful, but before Ardeth Bay could compliment his friend on his purchase, the top slammed open.  A snarling, yellow-eyed
demon stood before them.  The servants screamed and ran from the room. Zamir Nadair only nodded sagely.  "Vampire.  Allah has provided us with the blood of an immortal being."

"But it is a demon, Zamir Nadair.  Why would it assist us in the ritual?"

"It is no ordinary demon.  Look closely, can you not sense the soul within it, Ardeth Bay?"

The Med-jai chieftain considered the creature.  He had heard many tales of vampires.  Their cruelty and debauchery.  This unfortunate wraith was hardly the suave, insidious evil he would have expected of a vampire.  It's clothes were rags that hung on its gaunt body and its hair was a dirty, greasy tangle about its face.  Its expression was fierce, but Ardeth Bay could see the fear and desperation beneath the growling, golden demon.  Zamir Nadair was correct this demon had a soul.  Without one, he and his old friend would both be dead.  "The Soulled One was sent by Allah."

"Speak English," Angel growled.  He didn't understand a word of the gibberish they were speaking.  He knew it was Arabic, he just didn't happen to speak that particular language.  Angel's gaze darted around the study.  The windows were covered with thick, heavy curtains to keep out the heat of the day.  He was in the desert, not the best place for a vampire.  The heat was nice, but the unrelenting sun was deadly. There wasn't enough cover in the desert for a vampire.  Angel also wasn't too sure about there being a dark, dank sewer for him to escape into either.  "Where am I?"

"Forgive us, Soulled One," Zamir Nadair spoke in English.  He stepped forward and inclined his head in greeting.  "By the grace of Allah, you are in Cairo, Egypt.  We are in great need of your assistance."

"I'm a vampire.  I don't assist people, I eat them."  Angel bared his fangs to make his point.  He might not be able to follow through on his implied threat but they didn't know that.

Zamir Nadair smiled, not at all afraid.  "You will not harm us, Soulled One."  He gestured for Angel to follow them out of the room.  "Come with us and you will find what you seek."

There was no other choice.  Angel could have stayed standing in the wooden chest snarling at the empty doorway, but he followed the Egyptian men instead.  Somehow even they had known about his soul and weren't afraid of him.  He had reached a new low, he couldn't even scare humans.  Angel mollified his dejection with the fact that these were no ordinary men.  They hadn't gaped in disbelief at having a vampire in their presence.  "What do you want from me?"

"There is a great evil that threatens the world, Soulled One."  Zamir Nadair led them into the ritual room.  He gestured for Ardeth Bay to sit at his previous place.  "My good friend Ardeth Bay, noble chieftain of the Med-jai, has accepted the duty of the Immortal Guardian.  He will protect the innocent so that they will never know the Age of Darkness."

Angel stood in the doorway.  The man was speaking gibberish again, only this time it was in English.  It was just his luck to run into two apocalypse prophets with delusions of saving the world.  No wonder they had welcomed the appearance of a vampire.  "And I'm supposed to help how?"

"The Immortal Guardian must be immortal.  We need your blood."  Zamir Nadair offered Angel a seat on the carpet across from Ardeth Bay.  "The ritual is simple."

"Will it kill me?"  A sudden flash of hope flickered within Angel.  For all the things he had done, Angel may have felt that he deserved a long and torturous death, but maybe if he endured a painful ritual to save the world, he could make up for his past deeds.  Maybe he could have the peace he so desperately wanted.

"You will find what you seek," Zamir Nadair repeated his earlier promise.  He pitied the poor creature.  A vampire was an evil demon that reveled in death and destruction.  The soul in this one obviously carried the burden of the demon's atrocities and would not allow it to continue on that path.  It wanted the peace of death and Zamir Nadair did not blame it.  The Demon With A Soul sat on the carpet across from Ardeth Bay.  From his robe, the elder Med-jai took out a small dagger.

The ceremonial dagger glowed red as Zamir Nadair held it over the hot coals.  "Bless this blade, Allah, as I use it to anoint the Immortal Guardian," Zamir Nadair spoke in his native tongue.  Ardeth Bay held out his arm and Zamir Nadair used the dagger to slice in the symbols that the Immortal Guardian would carry with him until such time as his duty was fulfilled.  First, side by side just below the inner elbow, he carved an Ankh and Tiet.  Both symbols of eternal life, the Ankh looked like a Celtic cross with the loop at the top and the Tiet resembled the Ankh, except that its arms were curved downward.  Under these he carved the Udjat or sound eye of Horus to symbolize healing and protection.  Lastly, Zamir Nadair carved the Shen, a loop with no beginning and no end, to symbolize eternity.  Within the Shen, he placed the Ka symbol for the soul and the Ieb for the heart so that both would endure for eternity.  Throughout the ritual, Ardeth Bay's face remained stoic, as if he did not feel the bite of the blade in his flesh.

"You going to carve pretty pictures into my arm too?" Angel swallowed as he fought for control with the demon.  He couldn't tear his eyes from the blood dripping from the Med-jai warrior's arm.  The tangy copper scent consumed him and became even sharper when Zamir Nadair returned the blade to the flames.  The blood sizzled from the heat. It had been so long since Angel had smelled human blood that fresh that even the odor of it burning was intoxicating.  His eyes turned golden and the ridges reappeared on his face.

"Immortal Being, Vampire With A Soul, do you offer your blood and its essence of immortality freely, with no coercion?"  Zamir Nadair addressed Angel in English, not at all uncomfortable with his demonic visage.

"Yes, I do."  Angel held out his arm as Ardeth Bay had done and waited for the knife to flay his skin.  With a quick slice, the dagger cut deeply into Angel's flesh.  There were no intricate symbols, just a large wound welling with blood.  Ardeth Bay reached across the brazier and clasped Angel's arm at his elbow and Angel did the same.  The heat from the coals seared their skin as their blood mingled.

"The essence of immortality is passed to the Immortal Guardian through the symbols that shall protect him.  The Shen will hold his Ka and Ieb for eternity.  The Udjat will heal all wounds and the Ankh and Tiet will keep him without age.  He will not know death until his task is complete and the Age of Darkness is no more.  As Allah wishes it, it is done."

The vampire and the Immortal Guardian let go, drawing their injured limbs away from the heat.  "Now," Angel panted.  "Now, you will kill me."

"That is not as Allah wishes."  Zamir Nadair remained calm even when the demon shot to its feet and clutched at his neck.

"I participated in your little ritual."  Angel's grip tightened on the elder Med-jai's neck.  "Now give me what I want."

If Angel hadn't spent all that time in the cargo hold of a ship feeding only off rats, he might have heard Ardeth Bay behind him.  But he didn't and when the hilt of the Med-jai's sword hit im in the back of his head, Angel went down.  "Should we not have mercy and give the demon what it wants, Zamir Nadair?"  Ardeth Bay regarded the unconscious demon on the floor.

"What it wants and what it seeks are very different things.  He has a duty as do you and it would not be mercy to aid him in failure."

*****

"When I woke up, it was to the familiar darkness and rocking of the cargo hold of a ship," Angel ended the story for the O'Connells.  "I was in an armoire and with my night vision I managed to read the note they so graciously left with me.  They sent me to the New World where I was delivered to a warehouse."

"And you expect us to believe this fairytale?" Evy snorted.  "You're a vampire with a soul and he's an immortal guardian to a bunch of old bones?"

"Believe it." Alexander couldn't help but feel a thrill race through his old bones.  He was about to have another adventure.  A sparkle lit his tired eyes, but before he could explain things further to his granddaughter about Imhotep and her great grandparents, the phone rang.

As Dr. O'Connell conversed with Rick and Willow's kidnappers, Angel met Evy's suspicious gaze evenly.  He wanted to rush over and snatch the phone from the old man's hands.  He wanted to demand that Willow be returned to him immediately.

"Did you find what you sought, Soulled One?" Ardeth Bay asked with calm curiosity.  The Soulled One was anxious and he wished to distract him.

"Not yet, but I'm on the right path."  Angel remembered how bitter he had been after waking up.  All he had wanted was to be dust, but instead his misery had continued.  He had vowed at that moment that he had done enough, that the human race could go to hell for all he cared.  His debt was paid, so he withdrew and had eventually ended up at the Hyperion.  He had reached out for redemption there too, only to be slapped down.  The he had tried once more with Buffy, only to royally screw that up and almost lose everything.  Finally, Angel felt that he was on the right path.  He would get what he sought, but it still wasn't what he wanted.  He wanted Willow.  He wanted her to be his redemption.  Angel sighed.  He should tell them that he had friends that could help them rescue Willow and Rick, but before he could a strange sensation washed over him.  Warm phantom fingertips glided across his cheek and down his jaw.  Willow's voice, as clear as if she had been in the room with him, called his name.  She told him she was fine and then she told him to look for two people: Angelique Dane and Corwin Banes.  She tried to say something else, but her voice was cut off.

"Stay safe, Rick." Dr. O'Connell hung up the phone.  "They want me to find Imhotep.  They'll contact me again in two days.  Rick and your friend are safe and unharmed."  But Angel already knew that.

*****

It was an arm band.  A beautiful arm band, but not exactly her style. Willow reached into the box and took out the piece of jewelry.  So, this was what a token of Angel's affection looked like.  It was gold, coiled into rings that would hug her bicep.  In the middle of the coils was a large amber stone with a funny looking cross embedded within it.  Willow knew from her research that this was an Ankh, the symbol of eternal life, and it instantly reminded her of Angel.  An arm bracelet may have been more Faith's style than hers, but Willow understood why he had bought it.  It was an Egyptian amulet that signified eternal life and he had given it to her.  Angel wanted her to wear something that would remind her of him.  Willow smiled.  As if he was ever very far from her thoughts these days.

The door to the basement cell opened and Rick walked in.  It slammed shut behind him and the clank of locks echoed through the room.  "Hey,"
Rick greeted her wearily.  "I'm sorry, Willow, but it looks like we are going to be here for a while."

"I kind of guessed that."  Willow sat down at the table.  "What do they want?"

"They want my grandfather and sister to find some old mummy - Imhotep." Rick sat down across from Willow.  He noticed the open gift box and the
arm bracelet in Willow's hand.  "You opened the gift from Angel." Willow nodded and held out the jewelry so he could get a better look, but she didn't let go of it.  "The Amulet of Sekhmet.  He's probably worried, huh."

"Frantic."  Willow's brow creased with worry of her own.  She hoped Angel wasn't doing anything crazy to find her.  Goddess, she hoped he didn't call Buffy for help.  Her best friend's reproachful face was the last thing she wanted to see.  "But he will find us."  Willow fingered the bracelet.  She went to slip it over her left wrist.

"Do you think you should do that?"  A sudden feeling of unease invaded Rick.  His grandfather's stories about cursed objects and mummies rising from the dead filled his head.

Willow laughed.  She slipped the arm band up her arm until it fit snugly on her bicep.  "Don't be silly, Rick.  What harm ever came from putting on a bracelet?"

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