PART ONE

"Wesley!" Fred smiled as she saw the man enter the lobby of the hotel. "Good morning!  It's good to see you, well, not that I normally don't, but..." Fred smiled at him sheepishly and exhaled, "how are you feeling?"

Wesley cleared his throat and smiled at Fred before hastily looking away, "I'm fine, Fred, thank you for asking.  And you?"  He couldn't help feeling
a bit awkward around the girl, even after their many conversations about...the events with Billy.  He knew that she'd forgiven him, and that she was constantly trying her best to make him feel at ease, but he couldn't forgive himself for the way that he'd lost control.

"Oh, well I'm doing just great," Fred declared, taking Wesley by the hand and leading him to sit next to her at the receptionist's desk where Cordelia
and Gunn were already seated reading the morning paper.  "I had the most interesting dream last night.  Most of it is fading, really, but I remember
having a fascinating discussion with my physics professor from college--which is odd that I would dream of her, 'cause I haven't really thought much about her in the last, oh, seven years or so, but she was a real fine lady--and anyhow, we were talking about this research that she was doing in quantum mechanics regarding the theories that time isn't really a flowing entity but rather a sequence of discontinuous moments, and she had set up this..." Fred trailed off as she noticed the wide-eyed stares she was getting from her companions.  "And I don't really remember the rest," she
finished quietly, looking down at her hands.

"The rest of what?" Angel asked, coming into the room.

"Of one highly technical dream--and please don't ask about the details," Gunn pleaded, "I really don't like having that many words fly over my head
at one time."

"Well, as long as it didn't involve demons or prophecies or an upcoming apocalypse, we're good," Angel shrugged and moved to stand next to Gunn.

"What did you have to say that for?" Cordelia groaned.

"What?" Angel asked, perplexed.

"Now we're just going to end up finding some new prophecy about demons bringing about the end of the world and--"

"--and that's new how?" Gunn cut her off, "'Cause the way I see it, that's pretty much become our daily routine."

"Well, on the bright side, it does provide us with a never-ending array of..." Wesley feigned coughing after catching Cordelia's disbelieving glare, "I wasn't saying anything."

Cordelia sighed and rolled her eyes, "Well, at least the past couple of days have been fairly... ah!" she cried out as a new blinding vision struck her,
and she brought her hand up to cradle her throbbing head.

"Cordy?" Angel asked worriedly, coming to stand next to her.  He placed his hand on her shoulder as he waited for her to look up at him.  After a few moments, Cordelia drew in a shaky breath and turned to look at the concerned faces of her friends.  She knew that they were all gaining an increasingly apprehensive attitude about her visions and the pain that it was causing her, so she did her best to relieve some of their worry.  "Spoke too soon," she smiled warily.  "Uh, it wasn't as bad this time, really, but..." she trailed off, turning to look up at Angel.

"What?" Angel asked, growing more nervous at the look in her eyes.

"It was about Willow."

"What?!" Angel exclaimed, "is she in trouble?  Is something happening in Sunnydale?"

"I don't know," Cordelia shrugged helplessly.  "This vision was...different. I didn't get a sense of danger...it was more...I don't know...just *urgent.*"

"Urgent how?" Wesley inquired, his curiosity peaked.  "What did you see?"

"Willow, just lying there.  Shaking, sweating, crying.  I don't know.  I got this feeling of...emptiness.  Desperation?  It's hard to place."

"And you can't tell anything more?" Angel asked.  Cordelia shook her head apologetically, "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Angel reassured her.  "Maybe I'll just give Willow a call and see what's up."

"That sounds like a good idea," Cordelia stood, shaking slightly.  Angel reached out his arm to steady her, and she sent him a grateful smile.  "I'll be fine.  Just gonna get some water.  Willow's number is on the rolodex in Wesley's office.  You should probably call right away."

"Yeah," Angel nodded, sending Cordelia once last worried glance before heading into the office.  He was really starting to get concerned over
Cordelia's increasing trouble with the visions.  He knew she was playing it low-key for their benefit, and he made a silent vow to try and figure out
some way to help her.

Angel quickly found the card with Willow's information and noted that she was staying at Buffy's house.  After dialing the familiar number, he leaned
back into the chair and waited for an answer.

***

Willow groaned as she opened her eyes, the harsh sunlight burning into them. She had barely slept at all, what with the memories of the previous night playing themselves over and over in her head.  Willow shuddered involuntarily and pulled the covers tightly around her.  Not wanting to get
out of bed, Willow closed her eyes again and tried to will away the unwanted thoughts, but she knew she had to face them.  She had to face Buffy,
Tara...Dawn.

Taking a deep breath, Willow sat up and turned her head to the side to stare at the empty space next to her.  Her heart ached at the thought of Tara hearing all about her behavior last night, and she imagined the look of betrayal that would mar her pretty features, the pain that would flash in
her eyes.

Willow placed her head in her hands as she fought back the tears that threatened to overwhelm her.  Now was not the time to break down, she told
herself.  Now was the time to be strong, resolute.  She had to be, or she would lose the only people in this world that she cared about, assuming she hadn't lost them already.

After spending a few minutes calming herself down, Willow lifted her head up and moved off the bed to get ready.  As she set about her daily morning routine, Willow found that she had to forcefully keep herself from using her magick.  She hadn't realized how dependent she'd become on it, using it for everything from floating her hairbrush to her to automatically clothing herself.  When had it gotten to the point that the magick had ingrained itself into every minute action of her life?

Just as Willow was about to head out of the room and face whatever the day decided to throw at her, the phone rang, shrilly cutting into the silence. Willow waited for a couple of rings to pass, hoping someone else would answer it.  She really wasn't in the mood to speak with anyone right now. After the fourth ring, Willow sighed and reached for the phone.

"Hello?"

"Willow?"

"Angel?"  Willow's mind immediately went into panic mode.  She hadn't spoken with anyone in L.A. in weeks, and even then, it was normally Cordelia that she spoke with.  Angel's calling set off all sorts of alarm bells.  "Is everything alright?"

"Funny, that's what I was going to ask you," Angel replied, "is anything particularly odd happening there?"

Willow paused for a moment at his question.  Odd?  Well, nothing was odd, but there were a few things that were horribly, terribly wrong.  "Not that
I'm aware of," Willow began, choosing her words carefully.  For the first time, she wondered if Buffy had told Angel about having been pulled out of
Heaven during their rendezvous.  A part of her hoped that she hadn't; she couldn't take it if Angel hated her, too.  "Unless you're referring to a
diamond-stealing ice demon."

"What?"

"Uh, nothing.  Angel, is there something in particular that we should be looking out for?"

Angel had caught Willow's momentary silence, and he considered the tone of her voice for a moment.  Something was different.  It was almost as if she was tired, defeated.  Her normally melodious voice was instead dull, hollow.

"I'm not really sure," Angel began.  For some reason, he didn't think he should tell Willow of Cordelia's vision.  On impulse, he asked her, "Do you
think you could swing by L.A. for a day or so?"

"Okay, you lost me.  Is this oddness happening here or in L.A?"

"Well, I'm not sure."

Willow groaned inwardly at his vagueness.  "You're going to have to be a bit more forthcoming than that, Angel.  You're starting to scare me."

Angel sighed as he considered what to say.  If he was intended to protect Willow from something, it would probably be easier for him to do it in L.A.
rather than traveling to Sunnydale.  He just had to think of a way to get her here without scaring her.  "Well, you see, we need some help with this
spell..."

Willow froze at Angel's words. Her mind blocked out the rest of what he was saying, instead focusing on the word 'spell.'  She could feel her palms
begin to sweat and her heart hammering away in her chest.  She struggled to control her suddenly ragged breathing as she fought the impulse to yell into the phone that she would be there right away.  The thought of going to L.A. to help Angel with this spell was tantalizing...she could return to using magick for good...she could help people.  Isn't that why she had started in the first place?  Yes, she would go to L.A. and help Angel by performing this spell...by using her magick...she would use her magick...

The vision of Dawn's terrified eyes suddenly flashed in Willow's mind as a fresh wave of memories hit her: Dawn's disappointment, fear, screams, the
look of revolt in Dawn's eyes, the sting of the slap across her cheek, Buffy's cold eyes staring at her, the steely voice telling her to stay away...

"Willow?  Willow, what's wrong?  What's happening?" Angel's worried questions bombarded against deaf ears.  It had been several minutes since
he'd stopped speaking, and Willow had yet to answer him.  He knew she was still there, he could hear her labored breathing.  "Willow!"

The sound of Angel's forceful voice brought her mind back into focus, and Willow shook her head emphatically as she spoke, "No!  I...I can't help you, Angel.  I'm sorry.  I just can't."  And with that, she slammed the phone down into the receiver and sank to the floor, shaking violently, sobs
wracking her body.

***

Angel sat in shock for several moments, listening to the sound of the dial tone buzzing in his ears.  What had just happened?  Something was terribly wrong with Willow, he was certain of it.  But what?  And what in the world was he supposed to do?

After gently hanging up the phone, Angel stood up and made his way back into the lobby.  The others looked up at him expectantly, but he had no idea what to say.

"Angel?" Fred inquired softly.

"She... I don't know," Angel shrugged.

Cordelia stood up walked over to Angel.  "What do you mean?  What happened?"

"I tried to think of some way to get her to L.A, I figured she would be safer here.  So I made some story about needing help with a spell and--"

"--that's good!" Cordelia broke in, "I mean, Willow's getting really good with magick, and I think she really enjoys it, and--"

"--she freaked," Angel finished.

"What?" Cordelia looked at him in confusion.

"Something came over her and she hung up on me."

"And she gave no indication of demon trouble?" Wesley asked.

"No," Angel shook his head, "I think it's something else altogether."

"And I didn't see any big uglies in my vision," Cordelia offered.

"But the Powers sent you that vision for a reason," Angel began a bit absent-mindedly.  "I know that something is wrong, and I intend to find out
what it is."
 

PART TWO

Willow took a deep breath as she slowly pushed herself into a sitting position.  The tears had stopped flowing an hour ago, and she had finally
managed to regain control of her motor functions twenty minutes later, but she still couldn't bring herself to make the effort to get up off the floor.
  Instead she had just laid there, her mind blissfully numb, as she struggled to overcome her catatonia.

Looking around the room, Willow noted once again how quiet and empty it all seemed.  Needing to escape that quiet, if even for a few minutes, Willow decided to try and find Buffy, to talk to her some more.  She needed to talk.  Willow got onto her hands and knees and pushed herself off the floor, wobbling slightly as she stood.  After taking another few moments to calm her nerves down, Willow left her room and headed downstairs to see if Buffy was there.

She found the Slayer in the kitchen, seated at the counter and eating a sandwich.  Willow noticed Buffy tense ever so slightly as she appeared in
the doorway, and her heart constricted.  Her best friend didn't even trust her anymore.

"Hey," Willow greeted.

"Hey," Buffy gave her a tight smile.

Willow could feel the tension in the air, like a palpable entity, and she struggled for something, anything to say.  "You're, uh, you're probably
wondering who called...over an hour ago."

Buffy lifted an eyebrow and responded, "Actually, I was out.  Walking Dawn to school.  She was still a bit wigged about..."

"Last night," Willow lowered her head in shame.

"Yeah," Buffy nodded slightly.  "So, who called?"

"Huh?" Willow looked up and caught Buffy's expectant gaze.  "Oh, um, it was a wrong number."

"Oh."  After a few moments of tense silence, Buffy finally spoke, "You, uh, you want something to eat?"

"That would be good," Willow nodded and walked hesitantly towards the counter, not quite sure if she was welcome.

"You can make yourself a sandwich," Buffy offered, "or there's probably other stuff in the fridge."

"A sandwich sounds good."

"And you can sit down, you know.  I promise to only bite the sandwich."

Willow felt a bit of the tension seep out of the room at Buffy's words, and she was grateful.  "Right, I know... I just..." Willow found herself
grasping for words.  "How is Dawn?"

"Sit," Buffy commanded.  Willow plopped herself down on the stool across from Buffy and waited, knowing that look in Buffy's eyes. She had something to say.

"Look, Will," Buffy began, catching on her name slightly.  "You know that there are a lot of things that still need to be worked out."

"Yeah, I know."  After a slight pause, Willow continued, "Buffy, I'm so sorry--"

"--I've heard it already," Buffy cut her off, "And you don't need to keep apologizing.  At least to me; Dawn, maybe.  At least until she tells you to
shut up, if she'll even listen to anything you have to say."

"Buffy..."

"I'm just trying to explain how she feels.  Willow, we all make mistakes. We all get caught up in things that we can't handle, get in over our heads,
do things we shouldn't do.  I can understand that.  But you have to understand that it's gonna take some time for Dawn to feel comfortable
around you again, and even more time for her to feel safe around you, and even then, she still won't trust you."

"And here I thought you were leading up to the 'everything's gonna be okay' speech," Willow joked nervously.

"It's not going to be okay," Buffy shook her head, those dead eyes staring into her own frightened ones.  Dead...

"I know," Willow looked away.

"At least not right away," Buffy continued softly.  "She does still love you, you know.  She's just hurt, frightened."

"Of me."

"Can you blame her?"

Willow shook her head.  "I can't.  But Buffy, you have to believe that I will try--am trying--my hardest to make up for this.  I, I've learned my
lesson; I understand now what Tara was trying to protect me from, and I promise you that I am putting magick behind me."

"Good," Buffy smiled.  Willow caught a hint of warmth behind the smile and returned one of her own, filled with as much love, gratefulness, and
repentance as she could muster.  She just hoped it was enough.

***

Angel stood across the street from the familiar house, gazing at the dim lights that were shining through various windows.  He had left L.A. right
after sunset and had driven immediately to the Summers' residence upon arriving in Sunnydale; well, technically, he had driven to about two blocks
down and had walked the rest of the way.

He hadn't originally intended to come back; a part of him felt as if he no longer had a place in this town, and the fewer visits the better.  But,
after his conversation with Willow and the second vision that Cordelia had received, he decided he had to return, he had to figure out what was so
important that the Powers would send Cordelia two consecutive visions.

He and the others had been discussing what could possibly be wrong with Willow, what they could do to help, when Cordelia had gotten her second
vision: that of Willow floating in place, here eyes completely void of color, a black aura surrounding her frame.  Cordelia had said that the sense
of urgency was even greater this time, but apart from that, no new information was given.  But now Angel was certain that magick played an
integral part of whatever it was that the Powers were trying to tell him about Willow.  He just hoped that Willow herself would be able to tell him
the rest.

Angel pondered whether or not he should just wait where he was to gather a better idea of who was in the house, or if he should just go and knock on the door and hope that Willow answered.  He really didn't feel like explaining his presence to anyone else, especially Buffy.  After their earlier meeting, he didn't think he was ready to face her again.

Fortunately, Angel didn't have to make a decision.  At that moment, he saw the redhead leave the house, and he followed her for a while as she walked down the street.  She didn't seem to have a particular destination in mind, or maybe she did and was simply hesitant about arriving there.

Willow didn't notice the shadow following her as she walked.  Instead, her mind was busy rehearsing what she would say to Tara.  She knew that going to visit Tara was the right thing to do; she had to hear about what happened last night, and she had to hear it from Willow.  But it didn't make the inevitable confrontation any less frightening.  How would Tara react?  What would she say?  Would she end up pitying her?  Hating her?  The last thought froze Willow in her tracks, and for a moment she considered turning back.

Angel watched as Willow suddenly stopped in the middle of her stride and wondered what she could possibly be thinking.  Deciding it was time to make his presence known, Angel called out to her, "Willow?"

Willow whirled around, frantic eyes searching out the source of the voice. Angel stepped out of the shadows and into her line of sight.  "It's just
me," he reassured her.

"Angel," Willow visibly relaxed only for a moment before tensing up again. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to see you," he moved towards her, "after our conversation... I couldn't just leave it like that."

Willow forced a laugh, "It was nothing, really.  I just...haven't been feeling well.  You shouldn't have come here.  If you're looking for help with that spell, I'm sure you can find some other--"

"There is no spell, Willow," Angel shook his head.  As he gazed at her, he noticed how pale she was, how tired.  Her eyes were red and puffy, as if she had just been crying recently, and the sparkle that he remembered so well was missing.

"What?" Willow demanded.

"I only said that to try and get you to come to L.A; I didn't want to mention this earlier, because I didn't want to scare you, but, if telling you is the only way to find out what's going on here, then--"

"Angel, what are you talking about?" Willow felt herself getting slightly annoyed.  The last thing she needed right now was Angel playing cryptic
games with her.

"Cordelia had a vision," Angel sighed, trying his best to explain something he himself didn't understand, "about you."

Willow lifted a curious eyebrow.  If Cordelia's vision was supposed to save her from something, it was already too late.  "And?"

"And, it wasn't very informative," Angel supplied.  "All she saw was you."

"Without any gruesome demons trying to eat me?"

"No.  No demons.  No danger to save you from.  Just you."

"Maybe I'm the danger," Willow whispered softly.

Angel heard her words and they chilled him.  "What is going on here, Willow? I want to help you, I'm here to help you, but I can't do that if you don't talk to me."

Willow looked up at him with such tortured eyes that Angel had to consciously restrain himself from gathering her in his arms and offering soft words of comfort.

Willow wondered why Cordelia would be getting a vision about her.  Was she so far gone that she needed Angel's help?  Could he help her?  Or was she a monster that Angel was supposed to destroy?  And why did the Powers even care?  Willow sighed audibly as she looked at Angel's silently pleading face.  In the last twenty-four hours, she had seen mainly distrust, loathing, pity, and fright on the faces of the people she loved.  Angel's
face held none of those.

"Will you promise not to hate me?" Willow finally spoke.

"I could never hate you," Angel told her, placing his arm across her shoulders and drawing her into an awkward hug.

"Stick around a few minutes, you might change your mind."  Her voice was laced with such self-loathing that Angel was struck with an odd sense of
deja vu.

"What's happened?" he asked again.

And so Willow proceeded to tell him the entire story.

***

"Alright, this better be good," Lilah fumed as she stormed into the office of Wolfram & Hart's ancient texts translator.  "I just got called out of a
very important meeting because you supposedly have some extremely urgent news to tell me."

The man nodded emphatically, "Yes, yes; very urgent."

"Well?"

"Right," the man continued to nod, "you remember those scrolls you, ahem, had, uh, photocopied about a year-and-a-half ago?  The Prophecies of
Aberjian?"

"Yes, those were the scrolls that Angel stole from us," Lilah stated, obviously annoyed, "so you better be glad that I photocopied them, otherwise
you wouldn't have them to study right now, would you?"

"No, of course not, you're right," the man apologized hastily.

"Of course.  Now what's so damn important?"

"Well, you see, I think I've finally made a breakthrough with one of the major passages."

"And?"

"Now, this passage has been extremely difficult to translate, mainly because it makes use of various metaphors that were common only to the--"

"Get to the point," Lilah cut him off harshly.

"Right.  Well, we've already established that the scrolls make multiple references to a vampire with a soul, one who will play a pivotal role in the
upcoming battles--"

"Angel.  We know that already.  What else?"

"You see, that's just it.  *One* who will play a pivotal role.  As in, there is another.  Now, I've cross-referenced the phrasing and double-checked it
at least half-a-dozen times, and there is no mistake.  This particular sentence is explicitly plural--"

"You mean to tell me that some other caped-crusader wanna-be is coming into the picture?" Lilah snarled angrily.

"Well, yes and no," the man shrank back.  "You see, the scrolls make references to light coming from darkness and darkness coming from light, and
it seems to be applying this to the, well, uh, warriors.  Now, if this is indeed the case, then one would naturally assume that the former is the
vampire with a soul."

"And the latter?"

The man shrugged his shoulders helplessly.  "It's all rather vague.  These prophecies make references to another set of scrolls that tell more about
this second warrior, but from what's written here, there is reason to hope that he may be what we're looking for."

"Meaning?" Lilah asked, becoming more intrigued.

"You see, the writers of these scrolls held that the universe is inherently dualistic, that there exists an ever-present struggle between Good and
Evil."

"So what else is new?"

"Well, they also believed that there must exist a balance in all things. Now, we've tried unsuccessfully to change Angel's...loyalties, but he's
always--"

"I know this story.  What are you getting at?"

"This: if Angel is coming down on one side of the scale, in order to maintain this balance, this second warrior must come down on the other.  On
our side."

"Wait a minute," Lilah spoke, running the many implications of this new revelation through her mind, "You're saying that so long as Angel is running
around bringing about light and hope, this second warrior will be the source of darkness and destruction?"

"Precisely," the man concluded.

"Oh, this is too good," Lilah chuckled.  "And it's exactly the type of news that the senior partners have been waiting for."
 

PART THREE

"So that's the whole tale," Willow concluded, having just finished telling Angel all about the events of the past couple of months, starting with
Buffy's resurrection and ending with her nearly getting Dawn killed.  Of course, she did leave out a few parts, namely having pulled Buffy out of
Heaven, but she just wasn't quite ready to let *that* cat out of the bag.

The two of them were seated on the street curb, side-by-side, Willow gazing out at the houses lined in front of them, and Angel mostly watching Willow as she spoke.  When Angel didn't respond, Willow turned to look at him. "Well, aren't you going to say anything?" she inquired.

"What do you expect me to say?" Angel shrugged his shoulders, "that I'm upset, or angry, or disappointed?  Because I'm not."

Willow sighed as she heard Angel's words.  "It's just... I've botched up so many times with magick, but it was always stuff I could fix, you know?
Stuff that didn't really cause any *serious* harm to anyone, stuff that was still plenty far from that line that you're not supposed to cross.

"But this, this was so much more serious, so far over the line... You'd think they could at least label that line a bit more clearly: put up a bunch
of signs or something, 'warning, this is the line you're not supposed to cross; yes, *the* line.  Turn back now.'  And you do know that last part was
a joke, right?" Willow finished hastily.

"Yeah, I got that," Angel gave her a reassuring smile.

"Good, 'cause I wouldn't want you thinking that I actually thought that... uh, nevermind," Willow looked away with a slightly puzzled look on her face.

Angel's smile spread at the brief reappearance of the Willow he remembered. While he realized that she was no longer the girl he knew from over two years ago, a part of him was saddened to see that the Hellmouth had finally taken its toll on her.

"Willow," he began, calling her attention back to him, "do you remember what you said to me when you came to L.A?"

"Vaguely.  I spent the first week after Buffy died in a complete daze.  I don't really remember much of anything, except the pain."

"Yeah, I felt that way, too," Angel nodded, "so I went to this spiritual retreat in Sri Lanka to try to find a way to cope with the pain."

"Did it help?"

"For a while, before some of the monks turned into demons."

Willow gave him a strange look, as if to say, 'Even on the other side of the planet.'

"Yeah," Angel chuckled.  "But the point is, while I was there, your words came back to me.  They played over and over in my head, and I remembered you sitting there, trying so hard to deal with your own grief, yet still doing your best to console me.  It didn't work right then, but eventually, the first bit of solace I did find was in your words."

"Oh, I hate to break it to you," Willow gently mocked him, "but those words were intended to console myself more than you.  Only it didn't work so well in my case; I mean, I found that I couldn't deal with losing Buffy, so I turned to magick and brought her back."

Angel groaned, "Will you stop sabotaging my efforts to comfort you?"

Willow shot him a disbelieving look.  "That's your idea of comfort?"

"Well, if you'd let me finish," Angel's eyes narrowed slightly.

"Sorry," Willow gestured for Angel to continue.

"I was going to say that you helped me through a dark time, and now I'd like to return the favor.  You're not a bad person, Willow, you just made some wrong choices.  But we've all done that, sometimes with even worse consequences.  I know that this is hard on you right now, and, if you'll let me, I'd like to help you."

"I don't think you can help me, Angel," Willow shook her head.  "I mean, I've decided to give up magick, and I know it'll be hard, but it's something
I have to deal with on my own."

Angel studied the young woman for a few moments, having caught the tinge of sadness in her voice.  "But you don't want to give up your magick?"

Willow's gaze suddenly swung to his, frantic.  "How can you ask me that?" she exclaimed.  "I mean, after what happened, I have to..."

"That's not what I'm asking," Angel shook his head, his voice stern, "I asked if you *wanted* to give up your magick."

A slight pause.  "Yes."

Angel gave Willow a sad smile, "You betray yourself."

"Look, I answered your question," Willow snapped, getting to her feet. "Just leave it at that."

"No, I won't," Angel stood as well and turned Willow to face him, "If you don't want to give up your magick, if it's hurting you this much...you can't
atone for anything by making yourself suffer."

"Isn't that what you're doing?"

Angel's jaw snapped shut audibly as her words, spoken so calmly, struck him like a blow across the face.  Despite everything that they had been through together in Sunnydale, she didn't know him anymore.  She had never gotten the chance to know who he had become in Los Angeles.  When had he become so estranged from the people who had made up such a large part of his life?  Or is it that he had changed so much?

"I'm sorry, Angel," Willow sighed, her demeanor softening.  "I didn't mean to...it's just that...I feel like magick is a part of who I am now, but I
can't control it," she unconsciously began to reiterate her conversation with Buffy from the previous night, "it's hurting the people that I love,
pushing them away from me..."  Looking back up at Angel, she continued, "I can't lose them, Angel.  They're the only things I have in this world."

Angel reached out and took Willow's hand in his own.  "You have me, and I'm still here."

"No," Willow shook her head sadly, "your place is in L.A. now, not here."

Angel knew that what she said was true, but that didn't mean that he could just abandon her.  She didn't know the man he had become, but she could get to know him.  "My place is with the people I care about.  It's true that I don't have a place in Sunnydale, but I hope that I'll always have a place in your life."

"You do, but I can't use my magick again, I won't."

"Okay," Angel held his hands up in surrender.  "I can respect that.  If you have the resolve to turn your back on that part of yourself, I won't
interfere.  But I still don't understand what message the Powers were trying to give Cordy."

Willow shrugged her shoulders helplessly, "I've told you everything there is to know."

"Why don't you come back to L.A. with me?" Angel asked, "we can figure this out there, and in the meantime, you can take a break from everything that's happened here."

"You want me to leave here...just like that?"

"Why not?  I think a change of scenery would do you some good.  Plus, I'd like the chance to spend some time with you."

"Really?" Willow raised an eyebrow, her mood lightening a bit.

"Really.  It just hit me how much I've distanced myself from everyone here. I don't want there to be such a large rift between us."

"Me, neither," Willow smiled at him.  "Okay, I'll come to L.A. for a while. We can catch up...and, figure out why Cordelia's having those visions, of
course."

"Now you're seeing things my way.  Why don't we head back to Buffy's and you can pack some stuff--"

"--Wait, I can't!" Willow suddenly exclaimed, "Tara.  I was on my way to see her, to explain to her.  I have to try and make things better."  Willow
began walking again, hurrying to get to Tara's new place.

"Willow, wait!" Angel rushed to catch up with her, easily matching her strides.  "You're still coming to L.A., right?"

"I'm not sure," Willow stopped suddenly and turned to face him, "It would be nice, but...I need to get my life back together.  I can't just duck and run now that things have gotten rough."

"But Willow--"

"I know!  I know what you're going to say.  You're going to remind me about Cordelia's visions and tell me that I'm in danger.  I know that.  But I love Tara.  I can't just leave things like this.  I can't.  Please just let me talk with her first.  Please."

"All right," Angel conceded, recognizing that this was something she needed, "just let me come with you?"

"I think it would be a little odd with you there, don't you think?"

"I'll wait outside," Angel gave her a warm smile.

"Okay, but I'm not making any promises."

"Too bad," Angel shrugged, "because I am."

***

"Willow," Tara exclaimed, slightly surprised as she opened the door to reveal the redhead, "what are you doing here?"

"Uh, can I come in?" Willow attempted to reign in her nervousness.

"Oh, sure," Tara opened the door wider and stepped aside to let Willow in. "Sorry about the mess.  I'm still unpacking."

"It's alright.  You know, you still have a few things left at the house.  I can bring them by later, if you'd like."

"That's okay, I'll just ask Dawn to get them."

Willow froze at the mention of Dawn.  "Have you spoken with Dawn?"

"She stopped by earlier today.  She told me everything."

"Oh," Willow whispered, looking down.

"Is that why you're here?" Tara asked gently.

"I wanted to tell you myself...and I just needed to see you."

Tara considered her words before she spoke.  Looking at Willow, her heart ached to comfort her, but she knew that she couldn't do it.  She had warned her love of what could happen if she continued on her path, but it hadn't been enough.  And so Willow had learned the hard way.  And yet, after everything that happened, Tara knew that it wasn't over.  It could never be over that quickly, not after having tasted magick so powerful.

"I d-don't think that it would be s-such a good idea for us to s-see each other that much r-right now."

Willow felt like all the breath had been knocked out of her.  "Tara...what are you saying?"

"I'm s-saying that you need to work th-through this without me."

"You hate me, don't you?" Willow whispered, taking a step back as tears sprang to her eyes.

"No!  I could never hate you--"

"I'm going to Los Angeles," Willow cut her off, trying desperately to keep her emotions in check.

"What?" Tara gave her a startled look.

"Just for a little while...um, Angel called today...he needs some help with a computer thing."

"I see.  Well, you should g-go."

"You wouldn't mind?" Willow prodded, part of her hoping that Tara would beg her not to go.

"N-no.  I think the ch-change would be good."

"Oh.  Well, I'd be leaving tonight, after I speak with Buffy..."

"Okay," Tara turned her back to Willow and began to walk towards a stack of boxes.  "Let me know w-when you get back."

Willow stood rooted to the ground as she stared at Tara's retreating form. How had she let things go this far?  How could she have destroyed the most precious thing in the world to her?

"Sure," Willow finally managed to choke out, her heart constricting painfully.  "I guess I'll go now..."

When Tara didn't respond, Willow turned and reached for the door, sobbing silently as she let herself out.  Tara heard the door swing shut after
Willow left and sank to the ground, letting her own tears fall.

***

"Willow..." Angel trailed off as he spotted the sobbing redhead approaching him.

She shook her head, simply asking, "How soon can we leave?"
 

PART FOUR

"Well, what have you come up with?" Lilah asked, entering her office and taking a seat at her desk.  She was speaking to the man seated comfortably in the chair across from her, staring at her with steely, uncaring eyes.

"This," he casually tossed a file on the desk and lapsed back into silence.

Lilah eyed him warily as she reached for the file.  Opening it, she spent a few moments flipping through the pages inside, then cursed suddenly as she read a name she had hoped would not be involved in this in any way.

Wesley Wyndam-Pryce.

"Are you sure this information is correct?" she snapped suddenly.  The man, un-phased, simply raised an indifferent eyebrow at the brunette.  "Would you be paying me if you expected it not to be?"

Lilah was silent as she considered her next move.  This was a most unfortunate turn of events.  If the scrolls she was looking for were in
Angel's possession, then there was a distinct possibility that he would already be aware of the existence of this second warrior.  And even if he
wasn't, there was still no way she would be able to gather more information for herself without tipping her hand to her enemies.

Either way, she was screwed.  If she let this whole topic drop, someone else would eventually pick it up, and the Senior Partners would have her killed for having possessed such potent information and not following up on it.  If she pursued this and ended up tipping Angel off about the contents of the scrolls--which was inevitable--the Seniors Partners would have her killed for incompetence.

Making her decision, Lilah turned her gaze back to the man seated before her.  Kiren.  Only the Senior Partners knew his full name, and even then, it
wasn't certain if that was his real name.  He was the person in charge of several of Wolfram & Hart's...trickier operations.  And he never failed.
That was part of the reason Lilah had requested his assistance with this particular operation.  This time, she couldn't afford to fail.

"I assume you're familiar with the subject our division has been focusing on this past year," she began.  "He's strong, intelligent enough to have
thwarted the majority of our--"

"If you have an assignment for me, get to it already," Kiren cut her off, his face a mask of boredom, but his voice laced with slight irritation.

Lilah's jaw clenched ever so slightly, in equal parts anger and fear.  "Of course," she gave him her most charming smile.  "Since you are the one that
retrieved this information," she indicated the file in her hands, "then you already know that the scrolls I'm looking for are in this subject's
possession.  I want them."

"How soon?"

"Yesterday."

Kiren nodded his head ever so slightly, not once breaking eye contact, and stood.  He had his orders, and that was all he needed.

Lilah let out a sigh of relief when he left her office, her mind only briefly dwelling on the fact that she had no idea how to handle this man. But it didn't matter.  Soon, she would learn the identity of the new player, and all her plans would fall into place.

***

"So, when do you think Angel'll get back?" Gunn asked, leaning casually against the desk Cordelia was seated at.

"Who knows?" Cordelia shrugged, "we have no idea what's been going on in Sunnydale recently; Angel could be walking into anything."

"You don't think there'd be trouble, do ya?" Fred asked.

"In Sunnydale?" Cordelia scoffed, "there's always trouble."

"Oh.  Well, I just meant that, I hope Angel doesn't get hurt or anything. From what you've said about his past there, well, I...I'm worrying for no
reason, aren't I?"

Gunn snorted slightly, "I think Angel can handle himself just fine."

"Well, whatever happens in Sunnydale, I just hope Angel is able to find out what's going on," Wesley chimed in, "I for one find myself quite intrigued
by what Cordelia's visions may indicate."

"You so need to get laid," Gunn shook his head at the ex-Watcher in disbelief.

Wesley's irritated stammering was cut short by a sudden loud crash that startled the group gathered in the lobby of the Hyperion.

"What was that?" Fred asked nervously.

"Sounded like it was coming from the storage room," Gunn mused.

Wesley and Cordelia exchanged a sudden panicked look as they seemed to simultaneously remember what, exactly, was kept in the storage room.

Running to the weapons cabinet, Wesley quickly retrieved the first objects that came into his hands -- two swords, an axe, and a mace -- and handed them off to his friends.  The sounds of someone ransacking their way through the storage room continued to reach their ears as the group ran quickly, prepared for battle.

Gunn was the first to reach the door.  Banging it open, he cursed at the sight before him.  There were at least five intruders, dressed in commando
suits and black ski masks, and they were apparently human.  Gunn grumbled as he noted the guns they toted -- some stun, some real -- as well as his own mace.  It wasn't like he could bash their heads in, but...

"Gunn, move!" Wesley yelled, charging in and shoving Gunn aside as a commando charged at him, taking Wesley down instead.  Wesley grunted as he felt the searing pain caused by the stun gun spread through his body.  He turned his head to the side and spotted his fallen sword just a few feet away.  If he could just reach it...

"Wes!" Gunn regained his balance and saw his comrade convulsing under the electric charges inflicted onto him.  Gripping his mace, Gunn moved to help Wesley, but noticed a flash of movement out of the corner of his eye. Turning his head, he saw another attacker coming towards him.  Gunn quickly dodged the advance and raised his mace, brining the handle of it down to strike the man across the back of the head.

Cordelia and Fred appeared in the doorway at that moment, taking in the scene.  Wesley and Gunn were struggling with two of the men, while two
others were advancing upon them.

Fred ran to the side and used the side of the axe to strike Wesley's attacker across the back of the head, rendering him immobile for a few
moments.   Seeing Wesley struggling to regain control of his limbs, Fred rushed to his side and helped him to his feet.  Wesley gave her a quick
thankful glance before staggering away and grabbing his sword, using it to swing at the new oncoming attacker.

Cordelia, meanwhile, rushed forward with her sword, intent on stopping the man that was pillaging through the contents of the shelves and tables that were lined against the far wall.

"Cordy, behind you!" Gunn yelled, but his warning came too late as another commando approached Cordelia from behind and zapped her with his stun ray. Cordelia sank to her knees with a cry as the numbing pain shot through her.

Gunn turned back to his opponent and elbowed him in the nose, followed by a sidekick to the gut, which sent him sprawling backwards onto the floor. Grabbing his mace off the floor, Gunn ran towards Cordelia's assailant, intent on knocking the weapon from his hands, when a loud shot rang through the room, followed by an agonized scream.

Both Gunn and Cordelia immediately turned their heads to where Wesley and Fred were standing and noted that the two of them were unharmed.  Then they saw the blood.

One of the commandos that the pair was struggling with was lying face down on the floor, a pool of blood forming around his body.  It proved to be
enough of a distraction.

Wesley finally tore his gaze away from the dying man to see the other commandos escaping -- one of them with a particular set of scrolls in his
hands.

"The Aiterion Scrolls!" Wesley gasped as he realized what they had been searching for.  Grabbing his sword, he rushed forward, intent on stopping
them from getting away.  Gunn ran to help his friend, noticing too late the weapon aimed at him.

"Shit!" he cursed as he dove to the side, but not before a bullet passed completely through his shoulder.  Wesley continued to speed forward,
attempting to tackle the man with the scroll, but he evaded, and Wesley found himself about to crash into the table before him.  Striking out with
his sword, he heard the unmistakable rip of parchment as he landed hard against the wood, the side of his head banging against the floor.

Grunting as he pushed himself to his knees, Gunn saw the last of the intruders escaping.  His gaze wandered over to where Fred was assisting
Cordelia to her feet, then moved to Wesley, who was also struggling to sit upright.

"What the hell just happened?" Cordelia muttered as she continued to lean slightly against Fred for support.

"Apparently they were here for the Aiterion Scrolls," Wesley murmured as he gathered the few scattered pieces of the scroll that his sword had cut
apart.

"The what?" Gunn asked, his hand clutched over his shoulder in an attempt to stop the bleeding.

"A set of scrolls that I purchased from a--" Wesley cut himself off as he noted Gunn's bleeding shoulder.  "You've been shot."

"Yeah, well, at least I ain't dead, which is more than I can say for that fool over there."

Four pairs of eyes turned to the dead body of the commando.

"Oh, god," Fred breathed as she gazed at the body, "they killed him."

"Who killed who?" a new voice asked from the doorway.

"Angel!" Fred exclaimed as she turned to see him entering the room with a pretty redhead at his side.

"Oh my god," Angel exclaimed as he took in the sight before him.  "Is everyone alright?"

Wesley, Gunn, Cordelia, and Fred all exchanged glances as they wondered how they were going to explain this to the vampire.

***

"What the hell do you mean you didn't get the entire scroll?!" Lilah snarled as she stared Kiren down.

"We were interrupted," Kiren's jaw was clenched tightly in anger, though his expression was as blank as ever.

"Obviously," Lilah hissed.  "How could you let this happen?"

"Apparently one of the men assigned to my team was never trained in the stealthier aspects of breaking and entering."

"Well that's just great.  Even when I go outside of the division, all I get is a bunch of incompetents."

"The matter has been dealt with," Kiren stated coolly.

Lilah turned an inquiring eye on the man, then realized exactly what he meant.  "I see.  Can he be traced back to us?"

"As I understand the situation, the vampire traces everything back to you."

Lilah sighed as she realized he was right.  It was only a matter of time before Angel came barging into her office, or home, or car, or wherever the
hell else he felt like cornering her, to start threatening her to return the scrolls.  And before that happened, she fully intended to decipher as much
as possible of the scrolls currently in her possession.
 

PART FIVE

"You know, you really should get yourself checked out by a professional," Cordelia pointed out as she finished bandaging Gunn's shoulder.  "I mean,
cuts, bruises, scratches -- these are things I can deal with.  Bullet wounds?  That's a little out of my league."

"You seem to be doing just fine," Gunn replied as he slowly flexed out his arm.  "Besides, the bullet went clean through."

"Yeah, but it could still get infected, which always leads to the possibility of amputation..."

"I think I'll be checking myself into a hospital," Gunn stood, nodding his head.

"Works every time," Cordelia smiled to herself.

"Wesley, how are those translations coming along?" Angel reappeared in the room and walked over to Wesley, who was frantically working at translating what he could of the pieces of the scroll that were left behind.

"I'm not really sure..." Wesley trailed off as he turned his attention to yet another old reference book, apparently searching for something.

"We're still working on it," Fred supplied, seeing that Wesley had quickly become engrossed in whatever passage he was reading.

"Where's Willow?" Cordelia asked, coming to stand next to Angel.

"I just showed her to her room; she's unpacking a few things.  She'll be right down."

"Did you find anything out?" Gunn joined the conversation.

Angel considered his words for a moment.  He was still unsure how, or even if, Willow's recent experiences with magick abuse had any relation to
Cordelia's visions, and he felt a bit awkward discussing the matter without her consent.

"Not really.  Things in Sunnydale have been a bit rough recently, but I don't really think there's any direct connection to the visions."

"So then what do we do now?" Cordelia asked softly, worried for the redhead. Since Willow was the only person she had really kept in contact with in Sunnydale over the past couple of years, she found herself even more driven to help get to the bottom of things.

Willow watched from the top of the staircase as Angel and his friends engaged in a discussion about something.  Most likely her.  She couldn't
help but note how at ease Angel seemed around everybody.  He really had built something special here...

Sighing, Willow shook her head as she finally descended the steps.  "Hey," she greeted a bit nervously.  For the first time in a long time, she felt
like an outsider.

"All settled in?" Angel asked.

"Yeah.  This place is, well, wow," Willow waved her hands around, trying to express the grandeur of the building.  "So, what's...going on?"

"Well, Wesley and Fred are working on those scrolls, trying to get some clue as to what information they hold--"

"--to try and find out why someone would want to steal them," Willow finished, nodding in understanding.

"Exactly."

"Well, do you have any idea who would want to steal the scrolls?" Willow questioned, trying to find some way to help.  If she could find some way to be useful, maybe she wouldn't feel so out of place.

"Oh we know *exactly* who was behind this," Cordelia replied.  She exchanged glances with Angel and Gunn, who seemed to agree with her.

"I don't see why we can't just corner that lawyer chic and take the scrolls back," Gunn offered, "she's gotta be the one who set this up."

"You're probably right," Angel nodded, "I'd just like to know what they're up to first."

"Well, only the scrolls are going to tell us that," Cordelia said.

"The scrolls..." Angel mused, "how, exactly, did they know where the scrolls were being kept?"

Both Wesley and Fred looked up at this statement, which seemed to have the entire group pondering.

"You know, I never considered that," Wesley stated.

"Well, it ain't like anyone from Wolfram and Hart was ever given an all access tour of the building," Gunn offered.

"No one that we know of," Wesley's face lit with realization.

"How else would they know exactly where to look?" Angel's expression indicated that he had come to the same conclusion as Wesley.

"So, what?  You're saying someone snuck in here and mapped out the entire hotel?" Cordelia questioned.  "That seems a bit time consuming if you ask me."

"Well, there were those few days where everyone was trapped in Pylea," Fred reminded them.

"Damn!" Gunn summed up the thoughts going through everyone's head.

"Well, there isn't anything that we can do about that situation right now," Wesley quickly took charge.  "I think the thing for us to concentrate on at the moment is getting back the scrolls that were stolen."

"I'll get them back," Angel promised menacingly.

"Good.  In the meantime, Fred and I will work on deciphering what we can here.  Gunn, I think Cordelia was right.  You should get your shoulder
checked out.  And Cordelia..." he trailed off as she saw Cordelia and Willow standing together.  "There is still the issue of your vision."

"Willow and I are on it," Cordelia replied cheerily, draping an arm over Willow's shoulders.

Willow stiffened slightly at the contact, not used to being so friendly, at least in person, with the ex-cheerleader.  Her mind was spinning with all
the unfamiliar information that she had just been bombarded with.  Lawyers? Wolfram and Hart?  Pylea?

Her musings were cut short as Gunn announced that he was off to go see a doctor.  Once he had left, Willow turned her attention to Cordelia, giving her a questioning look, as if asking what she was supposed to do now.

Cordelia, in turn, looked at Angel.  Understanding the look, Angel shrugged as he spoke, "There really isn't much that we can do right now on that
front."

"Well, I could help Wesley with the translations," Willow offered. "Research is at least *something* I know I can get right, and it seems more
important at the moment."

"And I guess I'll go assess the damage to the storage room," Cordelia sighed resolutely, obviously getting tired of always having to clean up after the hotel was trashed.

Willow smiled slightly as she watched Cordelia stomp off.  Looking up, she saw Angel gazing at her intently.

"What?" she asked, a bit unnerved.

"Nothing," Angel just shook his head.

Willow considered pressing the issue, but decided against it.  A moment of silence lapsed before Willow finally spoke, "You're really happy here, huh?
Well, obviously not like 'true happiness' happy, but, well, you guys are just so...like a family."

"We are a family."

"That's nice, that you have that here.  Everything in Sunnydale has been really strained recently, you know?  It feels like everyone's been drifting
apart."

"I can imagine," Angel nodded.

"It feels a bit odd, being here."

Angel paused for a moment, studying Willow, before softly reminding her, "You know you never have to feel out of place with me."

"I'll keep that in mind," Willow smiled at him.  A thoughtful look crossed her face as she suddenly asked, "Um, Angel?  Who are Wolfram and Hart?"

Angel simply groaned at the question.

***

"Well?" Lilah huffed impatiently, towering over a quivering man who was practically steeped in scrolls, papers, and books.

Eugene Peters, Wolfram & Hart's Ancient Texts Translator, gulped audibly as he looked the fearsome woman in the eyes.  "Um, you see, the thing is, the passages are worded in a very tricky manner--"

"I don't give a damn how tricky it is; you're paid to clear it up!  Now I want you to give me something I can use in the next hour, or I'll have you
eviscerated."

When put that way, "Well, there is one section that I've been particularly concentrating on, but I have to warn you that this is more of an
interpretation that a strict translation."

"What does it say?"

"Essentially, it would be something along the lines of 'The Mouth of Hell shall lie in flames, and the Gate of Heaven will heed her call.'  Though I
can't be sure of the actual expression--"

"Did you just say 'her'?" Lilah asked, latching onto the only part of the statement that made any sense to her at the moment.

"Yes.  The word here is in its feminine form, so it would be safe to assume that this warrior is female."

"Well, that narrows the search down," Lilah mused, "but what does the rest of it mean?"

"Some sort of fire, perhaps?" Eugene shrugged.

Lilah didn't respond as she reread the notes Eugene had written down so far. After a few minutes, she spoke again.  "I need something more to work with here.  Have you got anything else?"

"Not yet."

Too lost in her thoughts to make a scathing retort, Lilah merely nodded as she turned to leave his office.  "When you have something more, let me
know."

***

Wesley exhaled as he leaned back in his chair to escape from his task for a moment.  The pieces of the Aiterion Scrolls that had been left behind were mostly fragments of larger passages, and most of those fragments seemed to have no connection to any of the present events.  Sure, he had skimmed over some writings about a few more apocalypses scheduled to occur in the next century or so, but he doubted that that was the information Wolfram & Hart was so eager to obtain.

Moving on to the next set of text, Wesley froze as he recognized the first line.  'The Souled One.'  Finally, he was getting somewhere!

With renewed vigor, Wesley skimmed over the writings, jotting down what he recognized and looking up what he didn't.  After some minutes, he looked down at his rather broken translation.  'The Two shall meet... balance shall be restored... Darkness and Light upon the battlefield... the Paths of the Warriors determined...'

"Oh my," Wesley breathed aloud.

"Wesley?" Fred asked, still seated beside him, "did you find something?"

Her question caught the attention of the others in the room, as they gathered to hear Wesley reply, "Yes, I think I have."

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