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Wes drove back to the office in a state of growing fury. Angel had let Spike into his life only to let him destroy it. He remembered all the times that he and Cordelia had complained at the fact that Angel felt he always felt that he had to act alone. Now he realised that it was the only way that Angel could do what he had to. The demon inside him may not be afraid of much, but the soul was that of a 27 year old Irish man that had been bullied and broken by his father. Wes knew the damage that a disparaging father could do. Since then Angel had only let four people into his heart that fully that they knew his past " Spike, Cordelia, Gabriel and himself. One of those had done that which Angel had feared forever. They had broken him with it. Not by using the knowledge against him, but by merely letting him go. Angel loved with everything that he had and he didn't, he couldn't just let go. He gave himself entirely to that other person and trusted them. Spike had thrown away something more precious than most people ever got to have.

The place was busy for a Sunday afternoon, paralegals shuffled around and various demons moved between floors, obviously performing some kind of job. Wes was relieved to find that none of his friends were in. It meant that he had time to sit and think through what he wanted to do and what the best solution to this heart-breaking mess was. He knew that either way they would lose a part of Angel, be it his physical presence or his friendship. He moved to his office to grab the templates that he needed. He had already decided that he wasn't going to be working in his office but in Angel's. He needed to be away from everyone and in a place that he could access everything that he needed and defend Angel's absence. He paused at Harmony's desk and left a note telling her that Angel wouldn't be in and that he was working in Angel's office and would deal with any urgent business.

Feeling unworthy of sitting at Angel's desk he went to sit at the large conference table and spread out all of the work that he had with him. On one side he had the templates that he was going to use to find out everything that he could about this vampire, on the other he had his own and Wolfram and Hart's files on Angel alongside Angel's sketchbook. It felt wrong to be dissecting Angel's life like this but he knew that it was the only way that he could come up with any kind of decision. He opened the template first.

The page sprung to life and within seconds was covered in a small, neat print that told the story of the Order of Dagon. This was more information than he had every received on the Order at the Watcher's Council. The history of the Order was fascinating and Wes became totally absorbed in his reading.

The most elusive and prestigious of all vampiric Orders is that of the Order of Dagon. Known to be the oldest surviving vampire line, the Order can be traced back to at least 196BC and the Rosetta Stone, upon which there is a brief and often overlooked or misread set of symbols that refer to the 'night people'. Cave art from localities surrounding Egypt, Palestine and Lebanon depict scenes of blood sacrifice and one symbol continually occurs " an inverted three pointed star. Archaeologists have attributed this symbol to gods or spirits but students of the occult know it to symbolise the Vampire Order we now know as Dagon.

Where the origins of their name come from is unknown but as their status as the Keepers of the Blessed One is well documented it is believed that Dagon could very well be the name of the First Vampire and not Lilith or the Sleeper as has been suggested. They are his lieutenants, his guardians against the world that would destroy him should he be found. Others have speculated that their name originates from their migration from the Middle East to Romania or the area once known as Dacia sometime before Roman occupation in 89AD, settling south of the Carthapian Mountains. The people of this area became known as the Dagae by the Romans and it isn't entirely unfeesible that they derived their name from that.

Whatever the origin of their name, the only truths that are known about this Order are the accounts from the few Watchers that survived their attacks. Demonic society has never documented their existance for fear of retribution and so we are reduced to heresay and legend when it comes to dealing with these creatures. One ancient and popular legend tells of a time when the First Vampire walked the Earth, followed by a plague which consumed man kind, leaving rivers of blood for the demon to gourge himself upon. In that time he created himself a vanguard of creatures like unto himself and endowed them with traces of his power. His vanguard went forth and created more until the vampire race spread over the face of the world, blyting humanity with its evil. When the First Vampire grew weary of the world he dropped into a deep slumber and his vanguard kept watch over the millenia ensuring that none disturbed his slumber.

There is a second part to the Legend that tells of the First Vampire drifting into the Dark Realms as he slept and should he awaken he will bring with him the beginnings of a new demonic age, the obliteration of earth and mankind. It is believed that all that will stand in his way when this day comes are the true children that he created " the vanguard or Order of Dagon as they are now known. As such they possess powers that seemed illusive to other vampires. The Blessed One is thought to have been born a vampire, already possessing the knowledge and abilities that he would pass on to his progeny. Althoguh there is little evidence as to any of his attributes it is doubtful that he is an Old One, more probable is the fact that he is a result of demons and mankind inhabiting the same place " the missing link if you will. what is known is that he and his kin are formidible as foes or as comrades.

In fact, they are the deadliest of all demon orders. Accounts state that they are proficient in Magicks both of the Light and Dark, have untapped psychic potential and are fundamentally stronger, faster and harder than normal vampires. Crypto-zoologists have suggested that their demon physiology is perhaps different from that of the traditional vampire. There are numerous reports of swords shattering on impact with the skin of an identified Dagonian, of them taking to the air in mockery of flight and of phenomenal displays of strength and speed. They are flawless fighters " all Childer are trained intensively and it is believed that they destroy those who are thought to be weak or unhealthy specimens. There is no record of a member ever falling to a Slayer but there are countless accounts of Slayers falling to them. When the first Slayer was created she and her watchers " the Shadow Men " went after the Order intent on stopping the spread of its evil. They were destroyed.

Wes was beginning to worry. As he read on everything told him that the vampires within this order were more than the average bloodsucker. The list of powers that they had was scary. They were unlike anything he had ever contemplated before. They were perfect killers, strong, smart and fast. They were the elite and Wes wasn't sure that any of them were ready to face the premiers of demonic destruction. He continued to read, pausing when he came to a section from a Watcher's Diary. He couldn't recall ever having read of Julian LeClerq or Alexandre Gustav whilst at the Academy.

Julian LeClerq and his Slayer Marianne encountered the Vampyr Maximillian on their journey from Rome to Ravenna. Both were slain in the line of duty. LeClerq's clerk was the only one to escape the attack and has been severely traumatised by what he witnessed. We are unable to gather much information from him as his ramblings resemble that of a mad man but he has said that Maximillian displayed strength enough to break through the heavy oak gates to the manor they resided in. He appeared to fly and was wielding magic enough to destroy the spell casters that Marianne was protecting. Three powerful mages taken down by an individual vampyr " the Order of Dagon is becoming more powerful with every passing year. The clerk " a young man by the name of James Tanner " says that Marianne barely fought him. He killed her within seconds. Sirs, she was one of the most experienced Slayers to date and had faced at least five Masters in her time. My advice is that we continue our surveillance of the Order and if possible find some way to gain more information. With Maximillian, they now have at least eight magic wielding Masters and this is the third account to comment on their abnormal strength. Today, a devastating blow has been delivered to those in the service of Good.

James Tanner was found dead this morning, having slashed his own throat at some point during the night. Ever since he arrived he has been talking of a whisper that only he can hear. A whisper that repeats how each of his companions fell to the vampyr. There is no doubt in my mind that somehow Maximillian has forced this man to take his own life in an effort to prevent him telling us anything useful. If that is the case, then hypnosis is another trait that we should be aware of when dealing with these creatures. I am returning tomorrow and hope to be with you in two weeks time. I must show you the drawings that Tanner did before his death; they are too disturbing and valuable for anyone else to deliver.

Alexandre Gustav never made it to the Watcher's Council. He was found, broken in half a few days later. All materials that pertained to the Order of Dagon were missing.

Wes read on, all the while noting down the powers that this order possessed. So far it covered an entire side of his A5 spiral notebook. He had nothing concrete though " only eye witness accounts of men scared out of their wits by the devils that have come to play with them. He turned the page. More neat writing, snippets of eye-witness accounts and general observation. One paragraph caught his eye though and sent a spark of fear coursing down his spine.

No member of the Order of Dagon is allowed to sire a Childe without the permission of the rest of the Order. If a suitable human cannot be found for each member then they are known to take strong vampires and re-Sire them. Famous cases of this include...

If Wes was reading this right that meant that Gabriel had the full backing of his order to be here after Angel. The rest of the paragraph indicated that if they wanted a Childe then they got it. Nothing survived this Order once it set its mind on something.

As Wes read more he discovered that these vampires were very unusual in the fact that they were very much like humans. They were a close knit family and although they hunted and were savage killers when under attack they were for the main part very fair. They only killed to feed " there were no reports of killing for pleasure. There were also reports of them actually being of service to the Watcher's Council at times, taking down rogue vampire clans or demons that the Slayer was unable to deal with. They were approachable as long as they weren't under attack. Wes wondered whether he would be able to reason with Gabriel. If he could meet the vampire and talk to him there may be another solution. From what he had read of Gabriel he already knew that he loved Angel very much. There was an entire passage devoted to the fact that Gabriel had found his perfect Childe but it had been stolen from him. For the following year Gabriel mourned the loss of his Childe, until it became necessary for his Sire to take him in hand. The details were sketchy but it seemed as if the loss of Angel almost killed Gabriel. He also never sired any other Childer. He was still waiting for Angel.

Wes had come to one conclusion through his study; to take on the Order in any way would be downright madness. They were far too powerful and they were spread across the globe. Gabriel was one of the youngest of the Order and he had taken out fourteen slayers in the past three months, single-handedly. He was also the Childe of one of the Elders of the Order. If they killed him there would be hell to pay. They were well and truly backed into a corner and Wes couldn't see any real way out. Well he could, but he didn't want to think about giving Angel over to them. He knew that Angel would go if there was no other solution and with every article that Wes read it was becoming more and more apparent that he might actually have to leave them. He really was all that stood in the way of the Slayers and a war that they were not ready for. Dagon could call on every vampire sect in the world to help them and they wouldn't hesitate to wipe out every single Slayer if the need arose.

They protected their own with a vehemence that made nuclear war seem like a small tiff. If Gabriel died or Angel was forcibly kept from him they wouldn't get the chance to defend themselves.

He picked up the book and flicked to Gabriel's biography. He was one of the mysteries of the Order. He was over five hundred years old, had never claimed any Childer and was well known as a formidable fighter. There were rumours of him having psychic abilities that strong that he had wiped the minds of those that ever met him. Watchers had never managed to observe him without his knowledge and he was known for leaving them gifts of fine diaries and beautiful pens to observe their findings in. He was also one of the Guards of the Order. Wes knew that this meant that he was trained to defend 'Dagon' " the Blessed One - at all costs and fight him if need be. Nothing he read made him believe that they could stop him by force should he come after Angel, after all not even magic would work on a psychic that strong.

The book contained a daguerreotype of Gabriel and although Angel's drawing of him had been stunning, the real thing was much more beautiful. There was no way that anyone would be able to resist his charms should he desire them. He was so exotic looking that it was easy to understand how people could fall under his spell. He could very clearly see Angel with someone like that. He was the exact picture of eroticism and protection " he was what Angel needed. His picture exuded a sensuality that was just begging to be defied; it was as if he reached out to Wes from the paper.

He sighed and slammed the book close. It didn't matter how much he read, it all said the same thing. The Order was made of vampires stronger than your average and Gabriel had the backing of the Order to come after Angel. It was a mess and there was no easy answer as far as Wes could see. He buzzed Harmony and asked her to fetch him another template " his spell one and some sort of refreshment. He needed to find a way to contact the PTB. He gazed out of the window and wondered how his life had become so complex. Hearing the door open he turned to relieve Harmony of the books or the coffee but was surprised to see the Scoobies, Gunn, Fred, Lorne and Spike filing in. He knew that they had had the day off " he had intended to do the same but, well nothing ever went to plan in his life. He looked at the clock on the wall " it was later than he had imagined. The sun had set over an hour ago. He felt a swarm of butterflies settle in his stomach. He had the ominous feeling that tonight was going to be the end of their world.

"Hey Wes! These guys wanna know where the boss is. We're goin' huntin for our mystery vamp." It was strange to see Gunn in his street clothes rather than Hugo Boss suits. The baggy hoodie and dark jeans seemed both sit on him like a second skin but at the same time looked... wrong. He carried himself as a professional lawyer and not a street kid. He wondered how much Gunn had really changed since they had come here. He looked like he was trying to recapture someone that he could never be again and it made Wes wonder how much they had all changed. Had they really made a deal with the devil?

"Yes, whilst we may not trust Angel anymore we are not so conceited that we don't see that he knows this city better than us. We stand a better chance looking for the vampire with him rather than without him." Giles' analytic outlook on the situation merely enflamed Wesley's anger. He couldn't believe that he had looked up to this man once. His attitude completely validated Wes' belief in Angel and their mission. Not wanting to deal with where Angel was and feeling the need to keep Gabriel from them " if only for Angel's sake " he asked them the question he had been dying to ask since they had arrived.

"Well not the answer we were looking for but... as soon as we catch the vampire. Why?" Buffy was rather taken aback by the sudden rudeness of the normally prudish watcher.

"Well it may be better if you left sooner. Say tomorrow. The vampire situation will be taken care of. I can have a private jet, complete with necro-tempered glass, prepped and ready to leave for wherever you want at dawn."

Harmony entered before he could say more and handed him a large book. "There's the template and here's your coffee " there was no tea left. I cancelled all of Angel's appointments for tomorrow as well. Is there anything else Wes?"

Harmony nodded and turned to leave, but paused before she got to the door. "Is Angel gonna be ok? Cos he hasn't been looking so good recently and Cordy would've wanted me to watch out for him."

"He should be fine Harmony. I am sure that he and Cordy would appreciate your concern. Why don't you take the morning off tomorrow? Come in after lunch."

"Ok thanks, Wes!" He offered her a smile as she left. How was it that an evil creature noticed suffering and enquired about it when the soulful ones amongst them couldn't? Sometimes he had to question the fight he was in. He turned his back to the group that he had been dealing with, laying the book with the others on the conference table and took a sip of his coffee. At least she could make a better cup of coffee than Cordelia had been able to. He let himself wander whimsically into the past when it had just been the three of them. They had been happy then...

He shook off the thoughts; he really couldn't dwell on them now and turned back to the others.

"Watcher, what the hell is wrong with Angel?" Spike had been ignoring Harmony until that point and now he was very focused on the conversation.

"Nothing for you to worry about Spike. I am sure that we'll have him back on his feet in a few days. Now if there is nothing else, I have some research that is quite pressing."

Fred's quiet and soothing voice made Wes feel extremely tired and worn out. He glanced at the clock. The sedative should have worn off Angel by now and hopefully he was feeling stronger than he had earlier in the day.

He saw the uneasy looks that were thrown his way but chose to ignore them. Had it just been his team, his friends, then he would have told them everything, but he didn't trust the Scoobies not to race in there and ruin everything. Half of him wanted to tell them just who they were messing with and the other half wanted to let them fall to their own arrogance. He had never known he could possess such vengeance, but there it was bubbling away under the surface. He knew that he couldn't act on it but the temptation to do so was so sweet that he craved it more than anything. He took a deep breath and steadied himself on the desk, desperate to get his mutinous feelings under control. He turned back to them.

In retrospect Wes should have expected the fist that flew at him, but to be honest he was too angry at the others to be watching them carefully. Spike had him by the throat and pinned to the desk, demanding to know what was wrong with Angel and where he was. Wes wasn't in the mood to be threatened and the spring loaded stake that he was pressing into Spike's chest made that point rather effectively. Spike backed away but his eyes, flickering between blue and gold, told a thousand tales. He wasn't letting this go and Wes was quite happy to give it to him. He was going to give Spike everything.

"You want to know what's wrong with Angel. Where should I start? Should I start with last night when the vampire that you're tracking found him? Should I start with three days ago when I picked his battered body up off the penthouse floor? Should I start a week ago when this lot turned up and started to give him hell about the choices that we've made? Maybe I should start a month ago when you claimed him and promised that you'd love him. Or perhaps I should go back a hundred years to when you raped him! Where do you want me to start Spike!"

By the time that he had finished everyone was wearing an expression that was somewhere between horror and disbelief.

"He told you?" Spike's voice was soft and calm not showing any hint of the worry that had suddenly flooded his system. When he had asked Angel why he hadn't told them all that night what he had done as William, Angel had told him that it was the past and that it was none of their business. That he was tired of dwelling on the past and wanted to move to the future, their future. If he was thinking about it again then something was very wrong.

For a second Wes actually felt sorry for Spike, he had been young and overcome by bloodlust, but he couldn't shake the image of Angel curled up on his bed; blankets pulled as high as they could go, tears still staining his cheeks and mumbling in his sleep. He had seemed so lost and alone and Spike held a lot of the blame.

That confession was all it took for the tears that he had been holding back on his friend's behalf to begin to well and roll down his cheeks. He didn't care anymore. He knew in his heart that they had lost Angel and none of it seemed worth it anymore. Hysterical laughter overcame his tears and he sank into the chair he had been sat in before they had arrived. How had Angel coped with this knowledge? Wes was hardly keeping it together and it wasn't even about him. Angel hadn't though had he? He hadn't slept for almost a week and was currently sedated in the hotel.

The seductive face of Gabriel watched him from its place in the template and he couldn't resist tracing a finger over the face that had come to damn them all. Those sharp cat eyes stared at him, mocking his efforts to keep him from Angel.

Dawn's voice snapped him from his mini-breakdown a slight smile curved on his face. He didn't have to tell them, because they didn't want to use the resources of Wolfram and Hart. He would tell them though " he was a bigger person than that, but he could have some fun first.

"Should I know?" Her elfin features crinkled in her concentration and he laughed out loud, his anger so consuming that he couldn't control his faculties anymore.

"Come on " Andrew, you're the new Watcher on the block, I'm sure that you're vast experience will be able to tell you who this is!" He watched with a perverse sense of delight as the boy began to stutter his way through an answer. He took the book from Andrew and thrust it in Giles' direction. "Come, come now Mr Giles, I expect more from the Head of the prestigious International Council of Slayers and Watchers."

Buffy, all five foot three of her was stood there glaring at him, hands on her hips, mouth pulled into an impatient and unimpressed pout. She tried to glare him into submission but he wasn't going to back down. He was fed up of their attitudes and he wanted to, no he needed to bring them all back to the reality. He smiled down at her and straightened his shirt. Graciously he took the book back from Giles and turned to them with a polite smile on his face.

"Why don't you all take a seat? Please." He gestured to the empty seats around the table and watched as they took one, all of them eying him warily as if he was about to pull a Carrie on them or " given their location " a Lizzie Borden. Either wasn't that unimaginable in Wolfram and Hart.

Spike was still struggling between his shock that Wes knew everything, his desire to know where Angel was and his utter confusion at the new Wes to make any snarky comments. The LA crew were very worried and the Scoobies were annoyed at the mockery that they had just been subject to. Nevertheless they all took a seat as he directed.

There was a unanimous refusal and Wes sorted his books into neat piles, keeping Angel's sketchbook out of the way for the time, as he tried to gather his thoughts. He retook his seat and steepled his hands in front of him, taking them all in. He had watched Angel in action too many times and knew how uncomfortable his rapid changing of mannerisms was making everyone. Deciding that he had put them through enough torment, and knowing that what was coming was going to torment them all the more he began to speak.

"I'm going to tell you a little tale, please don't interrupt because I'd consider it rather rude."

He watched as the all nodded and gave Fred a small smile " he didn't want her to be hurt by all of this.

"Six days ago, people that we assumed to be our friends, or if not friends then at least comrades, arrived on our doorstep with a dual purpose. Firstly, they came to reclaim a member of their team, a member that by all accounts wasn't really appreciated until he died for them and secondly they came to enlist our help. People who ask for aid on anything usually have the decency to show a little respect to those that are going to go out of their way to help them. Now we accepted that they didn't trust Wolfram and Hart and to be honest we don't. We are under no illusions that this company is in vassalage to undoubtedly evil demons, three very powerful demons, and that as a consequence they attract a certain clientele. However, we had hoped that said people would have had the wisdom to at least trust us.

"Perhaps their opinions of us reflect their own subconscious. I am sure that anyone offered a motor pool of vintage cars; a luxury penthouse and six figure salaries would undoubtedly jump at the chance but let's get one thing clear... Angel isn't anyone. Angel is working to earn his redemption and as he already is a very wealthy individual, material possessions don't tend to mean that much to him. What matters to him are his family and his mission. He is a champion no matter what you might think and he has proved it time and time again. Perhaps you need to witness it to believe it but I know that he has saved everyone in this room at least once " either directly or indirectly.

"Now coming here gave him the real chance to protect his loved ones. He gained the amulet that you used to shut the Hellmouth, he gained the best medical and mystical care possible for Cordelia, and he even gained enough money to put into the Watcher's Council accounts so that you all had something to live on. Each and every one of you has a minimum five figure trust fund should anything happen to Angel. Angel never took this place for his own gain.

He received looks of shock at his revelations so far and he knew that some of them could already sense his intent. Willow was already blushing, but his attack wasn't aimed at her but at Giles and Buffy and eventually Spike. But he had to get there first.

"Now, these individuals refused to even ponder the possibility that being in charge of a turn-key, state-of-the-art, multitasking operation might actually have benefits for the fight against evil. We have access to every text ever written, money to buy whatever weaponry or magical paraphernalia we require, the ability to trace anyone, anywhere... oh and we know who the biggest players in the demonic underworld of LA and California are. We can keep them on as short a leash as we need to. But you just saw the material wealth and have spent as much time as possible belittling and attacking us rather than consider the bigger picture. We are in a war and you take any advantage that you can to fight that war."

Small looks of contrition had spread on to the faces of Dawn and Andrew, but Buffy and Giles still seemed stoically unmoved.

"Now perhaps, should you want anymore help you will think about treating us with a little more respect? Especially if you want me to tell you who the mystery 'hottie' is."

All of the information that the book had contained vanished before anyone could read anything. Shock turned to outrage. Inside Wes was crowing at his victory over them but outwardly his face was the perfect mask of neutrality. He saw Giles reach across to take the book.

"I may have shown you how to work the templates Giles, but you don't know who you are looking for."

"Well, if you stopped bloody grand-standing and told us what we needed to know we could get out of here and stop him before somebody else gets killed!"

"Grand-standing?" Wes laughed, a light little chuckle at the audacity of Giles to suggest that to him. "Funny. Actually, Gabe, isn't going to kill anyone."

"Really, cos I thought that was what vampires did. How can you be sure that he won't kill? He sign a contract?"

From the patented expression on her face Wes knew that Kennedy was a rich little princess who was used to being right about things. He chanced a look at everyone else. All of the Scoobies but Willow seemed to be agreeing with her, Spike looked suspicious and his own team seemed conflicted. They were obviously enjoying his 'grand-standing' but they were worried about the reason behind it. He knew that they had realised that Angel was the reason and that Wes wanted to get the Scoobies under control but none of them could possibly guess what the motivation was.

"No, but if he kills whilst in LA he stands to lose something very dear to him."

"You have his Childe in captivity?" Giles couldn't help the fact that Wes' knowledge had peaked his interest. If he were honest, he was jealous at the growth that Wes had undergone. He wasn't the bumbling idiot that he had been, he was confident and deadly... and in total control.

"No. And if I am honest, his Childe is only holding him at bay. If we make the smallest error in this he will destroy us."

"Umm " Watcher Wes? Case you hadn't noticed we have two slayers, a wicked powerful Wicca and two vampires on our team. How's he gonna stop that?" Xander's mocking tones glanced off him, barely touching his steely veneer.

There it was the cowed expression that he had wanted to see on Giles' face. Those three little words had been all it took to break that self serving façade.

"They're a myth." The words were softly spoken as Giles couldn't be sure that he actually believed that at this minute.

"They're the premier of demonic high society Freddikins, and not to be taken lightly." Lorne's red eyes showed the faintest hints of fear and his voice held none of its usual joviality.

"They're more than that Green. They're the bollocks when it comes to vampires. Nothing is as powerful as they are " even the Master didn't dare to cross them and he was the most egotistical bastard that I know."

"Spike's right. They are powerful." Wes reached for the book and with a sibilant whisper commanded the text. "Gabriel, Order of Dagon. This is your vampire. He is over five hundred years old and is proficient in the use of all forms of magic, an unparalleled psychic and a first class killer. He has killed thirty slayers in his life and his Sire killed his first slayer when he was a year old fledge. The Order of Dagon are the direct descendants of the first vampire and as such they are a force to be reckoned with. They are there to protect him from those who would kill him and stop him should he try to walk the earth again. Do you really think that we stand a chance against them?"

An uncomfortable silence settled over the group. The Order of Dagon didn't sound like a walk in the park, but they had faced worse " right? Willow gave Kennedy's hand an affectionate squeeze and cleared her throat.

Wes smiled faintly. He had already accepted that Gabriel was going to take their friend and but his heart still rebelled at the idea, even though there was very little he could do.

"His Childe " or prospective Childe is already doing everything that he can. Gabriel can only be swayed so far though."

"Perhaps we should get him and Angel here and come up with a better strategy then English."

Gunn made for the phone to dial Angel's mobile but he dropped the handset when Wes' hesitant confession reached his ears. He knew that he had promised Angel he wouldn't say anything but he needed to keep Angel out of this for the time being and stop the Light Brigade blundering in again. So Wes did the one thing that he could and defied God to strike him down...

Angel awoke a good few hours after Wesley had left him feeling more refreshed than he had done in days. He knew that Wes had drugged him, he could smell the tranquiliser in the air, but he was more than grateful. Had he not Angel knew that he wouldn't have slept - he'd have either dreamed and woken up scared out of his mind or he'd have laid there refusing to sleep for fear of dreams or vision flashbacks. He lay in his bed and felt the tickle of the evening air play over his chest. He had no desire to go anywhere for the time being. He just wanted to stay here and escape the world. He revelled in listening to the sounds of the hotel settling. There was no heartbeat, so Wes wasn't here, but the creaks and groans of the old wood gave the hotel a heartbeat of its own. He focused on them, blocking out all the noise from the outside world.

As he drifted off into a boneless slumber, lulled by the soothingly familiar noise of his hotel, he was suddenly aware of the presence of another in his room. He bolted up in bed, the sheets slipping to pool at his waist.

He was sat in an easy chair in the corner of the room facing the bed, illuminated by the soft light that entered through the window. He looked so majestic as he sat there bathed in the glow of the street lights and Angel couldn't help but shiver at the look he was receiving.

"You shouldn't be in here." Angel wrapped his arms around his torso as if to ward off that gaze. Those green eyes were flaying him alive. He could feel them tracking over his skin leaving burning pathways in their wake.

"Shouldn't? Mon Cher, if you are referring to those little spells that have been set up around the place, I merely bent them to my will. Nothing stands in my way when I want something." He got up from his seat and moved to sit on the bed so close to Angel that their faces were practically touching.

"What about what I want?" Angel could do little more than whisper the question. He shifted further away on the bed as if to deny the magnetism that was pulling and screaming at him to move towards Gabriel.

"You want love Petit; you want someone to hold you and love you and keep you safe from the outside world. I promised to do that once. Does it surprise you that I should want to do it again?" Gabriel moved closer to his desire. He lightly brushed his fingers over Angel's cheek and lips.

"I have a soul..." Angel felt himself falling towards the dark figure that had once been his entire world. He clutched frantically for reasons to hold Gabriel off when all he wanted to do was pull him closer.

"I don't care, I just want you." Gabriel was now whispering across Angel's lips, an imitation of a kiss but all the more intimate.

"But the claim..." Angel tried to pull back but Gabriel followed, pushing him down into the pillows, covering Angel's lips with his own rather than answer.

Angel had forgotten how Gabriel had kissed him; he thought that he had made it up during those nights that the Master ripped him apart, made it too perfect so that it became his only escape. He thought that Gabriel and everything that his kisses had evoked were merely dreams, fantasies he'd created to ward off the demons. He hadn't. It was fireworks and bones melting. It was coming home and going away all at once. It was everything that he had ever wanted. He moaned when the lips left him as Gabriel removed his silk shirt. They were then back with a forceful passion that threatened to undo Angel completely. He was revelling in sensations that he had been unwittingly craving for nearly a quarter of a millennium.

Gabriel had heard everything that his love had told to the Watcher. He was ready to rip the other vampire apart, and the Powers that sent the visions to such a troubled mind. Right now though, he was more concerned in bringing Angel back to him, he would deal with the claim later. After all, he now had permission to Sire Angel and he wasn't going to let a simple claim stand in the way of that. Theoretically he knew that he'd either have to kill the other vampire or wait for the other to walk away, which was the most likely thing to happen... but he wasn't going to let his Angel go...

"What!" That was the general reaction that met Wesley's confession, although a few choice expletives fell from Spike's mouth.

Buffy couldn't help the sense of anger and betrayal that was coursing round her system. Slayers had been killed and Angel had known who the culprit was the whole time. She was going to seriously hurt him when he got back.

Soft lips, soft as feathers, air kissed the sculptured torso that arched to meet every pass those lips made. Gentle fingers traced lazy circles up and down, up and down; never stopping their movement for a second, not even letting silken fabric interrupt their process.

"He knew nothing until Giles confirmed the murder locations yesterday and Gabriel met him last night."

"He met him! Is the vampire a nice big pile of dust now?" There was no humour in Xander's question, just a sheer contempt for all things nocturnal.

"No, Gabriel left but he isn't going away. The only thing standing between you and Gabriel right now is Angel. And I am not sure how long he can keep it up."

Buffy moved from her seat at the table and slung her weapons kit over her shoulder. Xander, Kennedy, Andrew and Giles followed suit. No one else moved - they kept their eyes trained on Wes who was desperately trying to avoid their gaze. He'd backed himself into a corner though. They had all heard the worry in his voice. Moreover, they had all heard his last comment for what it was. A huge slip meant more for Wes' ears than for theirs.

Spike didn't waver. His baby blues darkening to a deep unforgiving beryl as gut wrenching fear flooded his system. The vampire that they didn't stand a chance against was here for his Claim, his Angel. If he thought that he could take Spike's property then he had never heard of William the Bloody! What they needed to do was come up with a plan, bring Angel here and then...

Cool skin against cool skin, friction steadily causing an increase in temperature. Sweat coating both deific figures with a golden dew that made their immortality glow, easing the slow undulating movements of their bodies. Strong nails teasing the velvety flesh leaving quivering furrows in their wake. Teeth nipped all the protuberant muscle that they could reach. Some bites harder than the others eliciting low whines of penury.

Fred moved to take the hand of her man. She could see that he was hurting so much and wanted nothing more that to reach out and hold him. Rock him gently like you would a child and banish the demons that were troubling his mind. Unfortunately though, the only demon troubling Wes was one that she would never banish - he was their demon, their Angel, her handsome man. He squeezed her hand lightly and shook himself from his stupor.

"Angel's safe. I thought it best to keep him away from this until I decide what to do." Wes sighed, a slow, heavy sigh that only began to tell the tale of his apprehension.

"What's to decide? We go, we slay, we party! Isn't that what we usually do when facing creatures of the night?"

"Haven't you heard a single thing that I have said! My God! Are you stupid or just being purposefully obstructive? Gabriel isn't an ordinary vampire! If we did face him the best that we can hope for is that he kills us. If somehow we manage to kill him then his Order will rain down fire and brimstone on every slayer they can get their hands on. Your girls haven't had their powers for even a year, how do you think that they will cope against an Order whose youngest member is 200 years old? How are they going to fight magic?"

Wes stared at each and every one of them in turn - the time for nicety was over. They needed to have their butts kicked into realising that there was too much at stake to go rushing in... stakes raised. He needed them to realise it now.

"Sit down. No one is leaving this office until they understand what is at risk. Your actions here may very well cost hundreds of girls their lives. You gave them that power; it is therefore your bloody responsibility to keep them alive because you are the ones who damned them."

"That's what I am trying to do!" Buffy slammed her fists down on the table, splintering the wood in her anger.

"I said sit down Buffy. You never thought of the consequences of your actions and now they are going to cost you something. But I will be damned if I let any girls die because you rush out of here half-cocked. I took an oath as a Watcher to protect the Slayer line at all costs and I intend to uphold that oath with every breath still left in my body. But know this - I will walk through hell before I let your actions bring any harm to Angel. He has suffered enough."

Despite the force of Wes' words, the honour in their meaning and the deadly calm way in which they were delivered, something in Giles still rebelled at the idea of this competent Watcher before him. A watcher that he knew the Council would be lucky to have.

Angel moaned deep in his throat as he welcomed Gabriel back into his body, his heart, his mind... into his soul. He felt so complete for the first time in so long that tears escaped his eyes to make room for all of the new and old feelings that were flooding back.

He arched up into the protection of Gabriel's chest, matching each deep, gentle thrust with his own twist of his hips. He wrapped his arms around his salvation and held it tight.

Angel screamed in ecstasy as he came, a splash of cool liquid coating their chests and filling him inside - the total antithesis of the heat of their passion.

White hot tips of iridescent fangs pushed through corded muscle and he was sucked into the swell of blood loss...

"He's loved him for 240 years. What makes you think that he won't protect Gabriel with everything he is?"

Wine and roses and anise and cardamom and paprika danced together, joining and mixing and flowing from the lacerated wrist in a stream of scarlet and into Angel's mouth.

Both figures, weakened and strengthened by the exchange collapsed into one another, arms holding tight, legs mingling, dark head resting upon a pale milky chest as brown eyes drifted into a safe slumber.

There was a spectrum of emotion laid out before Wes like an appetising buffet ranging from Buffy's disbelief to Fred's wide eyed heartbreak. All the emotions that humanity was capable of flickered over their faces within the few moments of silence Wes allowed them. He didn't dare look at Spike; the fact that the vampire had said nothing immediately chilled him to the bone. He was dangerous when silent.

"Do you see what I am saying? This isn't your ordinary vampire and he has us by the balls. This may destroy what's left of Angel."

...To die: to sleep:
No more; and by a sleep to say we end
The heartache and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to,--'t is a consummation
Devoutly to be wish'd.

He slumped further down in his chair and dropped his head into his hands. There was nothing that he could do. Hearing it from Angel had been bad enough but saying it himself... saying it himself meant that he had to truly realise the reality of the situation. Steady, slow tears began to fall when Fred turned to him, hope and disbelief alive in her innocent eyes.

"But, he's a Champion... he's my handsome man. He's not going to just walk away. Wes? Why would he just walk away?"

"Because Honeypie there isn't that much of Angel left anymore. He's been drowning not waving and we've all missed it." He glanced at Wesley's bereft face. "Well maybe not all of us, but we should have seen more than we did."

"English? Is he right?" Wes had never heard that choked sound in Gunn's voice before. Chocolate eyes sparkled, wetter than they were usually.

He moved to look out at the city that they had all done so much for. Why was it that they had to sacrifice so much for the good of people they didn't know?

"No I mean when Angel quit." He turned back to everyone. The backdrop of the city lights wasn't cheery, despite their gaudy colours, it was oppressive... it reminded them all that there were all those people out there that needed Angel.

"He was ready to give up then. He hates it here; he hates the fact that he has had to compromise his ideals to try to help people. Before all of this he didn't doubt anything. He knew that he was redeeming himself. He never thought that he would ever balance out the cosmic scales but he realised that it wasn't about that, it was about doing what you can do because you have that power. It wasn't about destiny or a mission; it was a choice that he made freely. He'd been given the chance to try to show the world that there were still heroes out there. He knew that the Powers had his back, even though they enjoyed putting it in a lot of danger, he knew they had faith in him.

"Then we lost Cordy and came here and a tiny voice of doubt started to gnaw at him. Then Spike arrived and Lindsey started his little game up, made Angel doubt that he was a Champion. He doubted it so much that he no longer believed he could do any good here and he was ready to quit. Angel doesn't quit. So Cordy was sent back to put her guy back track - that's what she told him. She said that the Powers owed her one and that she called it in to pull Angel out of his funk and set him on the path again. He made her proud. He threw himself back into it with a vengeance; he was a force to be reckoned with.

"But things change. Dreams can destroy our souls if we let them. Angel got a temporary reprieve from his nightmares and for a whole month he found a peace and safety that he had never known before. He felt so safe and loved and he felt as though he could do anything. But his dreams are back and he is terrified of sleeping because he can feel himself being pulled back into hell, he can feel it on the back of his neck and it is killing him."

He saw Spike shudder as the realisations of what Wes was saying got through to him - he was beginning to understand...

"Do you know that he hasn't slept for the past five nights? That every morning I have picked him up off the floor of his living room because he has been too afraid to try to sleep and that he is waiting until he has the courage to walk into the sun? Have any of you seen that he has been walking funny because he has broken ribs and bruises all over him? Have any of you paid any attention to the fact that he has barely spoken since you got here? Or were you all too caught up in your own goddam lives!"

With every statement he made Wes' ire grew. It was infectious. It spread into every pore of his body and festered. It began to boil, making his skin glow with a pink tinge and his body quake at the power of his emotions. He wasn't sure who he was yelling at any more - Spike, the Scoobies, them, Gabriel, the Powers... Angel? No he wasn't mad at Angel. How could he be? Angel was hanging on by a thread and that thread was Wes. He wished to god that he had some kind of power; that he was as strong as Buffy so he could batter some sense into her and Spike or that he was as talented a practioner as Willow so he could make them all feel the despair he had seen in Angel's eyes. All he had was his voice and he wasn't sure that was enough.

"None of you have the right to call yourselves heroes or friends! He is dying from this - it will kill him unless he finds a way to get out!"

"I think that you're being a bit melodramatic now Wesley. Dreams can be intense yes but..."

Giles never got to finish his patronising statement as Wes' fist collided with his jaw, snapping his head back. Not giving the older man chance to recover he wound a hand round his throat, slamming him into the hard table top. Before he could do more a furious Buffy threw him off Giles, tossing him effortlessly across the room. Fred hurried to his side as did Gunn and Lorne; all worried that Buffy might have seriously hurt him. The Scoobies were at Giles' side in a second, all staring in horror at Wes - unsure of what was wrong with Wes but knowing that he was seriously unhinged.

In the middle of both groups was a devastated Spike, unsure of where he belonged or what he was going to do. No, he knew where he belonged, he belonged with Angel, but would admitting that cost him his friends? Would he have to choose between Buffy and Angel - because if that was the case then he wasn't sure that he could choose. He was so in love with Angel that it hurt, he had always loved the dark vampire but he had loved Buffy too. She had been his world at one point and he wasn't sure that he could cut that part out of himself. It would be the same with Dru... He ignored the traitorous voice that told him he had threatened to stake her for Buffy.

"What the hell is wrong with you Wesley!" Buffy, satisfied that her Watcher was going to be ok wheeled on the man that had threatened him in the first place.

Wesley had had the time to get a grip on his emotions during his reprieve on the floor. He needed to stay strong so that he could work all of this out for Angel. He pulled all of the anger back into himself and honed it, shaped it into a small flame that burned brightly in his despair. He turned icy blue eyes on Buffy, tears frozen in place and not even daring to fall.

"I'm sorry? Did you just ask me what was wrong? I have just told you that the ex love of your life is in the middle of a breakdown that may cost him, if not his sanity, then his life; then your Watcher has the gall to claim that I'm being melodramatic and you want to know what's wrong with me? When did you all lose your humanity?

"Cordelia and I always used to wonder why it was that Angel would never let us in, why he always felt that he had to do everything alone, why he kept everyone at a distance. He did it because it was the only way he could cope. It has taken him a hundred years to build up a strong enough coat of armour that allows him to deal with his past and all the other crap in his life and still stay strong. Now that armour is gone. Worn down and eroded into nothingness. He has nothing left to keep the demons away and his soul, the soul of a twenty seven year old Irish boy who feared his father, is being ripped to shreds. Good God! I've had to sedate my best friend to get him to go to sleep! He is currently, lying in the Hyperion, drugged and surrounded by countless protective wards and barrier spells because that is the only way he feels safe!"

He paused to take a breath - willing his feelings to calm down to more manageable levels before he continued.

"We're losing him. Angel is on the verge of utter collapse... and we all have Spike to thank for that."

All eyes turned to Spike. The Scoobies were shocked to see him stagger as if those words had dealt him a physical blow. He hung his head in shame at the truth of Wes' words, pulling his duster tight around his hurting form as if to ward off the truth of these words.

"Congratulations Spike - you've managed to break Angel. Not even Hell did that. Guess you are the Big Bad after all. How's the soul? Still there?"

The viciousness bit into his flesh like thousands of tiny needles, pushing in through his skin and leaving poisonous venom in its wake. He could feel it, thick and black and oppressive, moving through his body to the one place that he never wanted it to go - his heart. It oozed through him like bitumen, swallowing every good feeling it came across and leaving a trail of contempt behind it, like the iridescent paths left by snails in the morning sun. This trail wasn't bright and shimmering though, it was dark and abhorrent and he doubted that it would fade. He could feel it clawing up his throat and he felt sick. How could he have done this to Angel?

"Spike, what's he talking about?" Buffy moved towards the blonde vampire, unsure of why he looked so guilty... no... ill. Before she could say anymore, before she could get him to open up to her, Dawn interrupted.

Over the past few days she and Spike had renewed their friendship and her loyalty to him was perhaps stronger than ever before. Wes said nothing to her barely acknowledging the fact that she had spoken at all. He just kept a level arctic blue stare on Spike, his eyes boring blazing holes through his flesh, but Fred acted. They say that the quiet ones are the ones that you have to watch out for and it was definitely the case as Fred delivered a spiteful, stinging slap to Spike's cheek, utter betrayal blazing in her wide eyes. He couldn't meet those eyes.

"Fred, leave him - it's not worth it. We need to help Angel." Lorne's uncharacteristic lack of pet names indicated the state of his feelings. He was so angry at Spike, he had warned the blonde against this very thing and he had been promised that Spike would do nothing to harm Angel. Well he'd got the nothing part right at least...

The Scoobies still looked unconvinced that they should help. Wes could see the thoughts ticking over in their minds, especially in light of Spike's involvement. He could almost hear their arguments and in light of the vivid way that they were dancing around his imagination he knew that he couldn't bear to hear them out loud. If appealing to their humanity wasn't going to work then he had only one more card to play...

"Look, I realise that we are not friends, that you don't trust us and probably never will. I also get that some of you don't like Angel." He avoided glancing directly at Giles and Xander and to a lesser extent Andrew and Kennedy but everyone knew to whom he referred. "But you don't know Angel. He has the biggest heart of anyone I know. He is a true hero and the world is seriously lacking in them nowadays. You haven't ever truly gotten to know him but if you did I think that you would find out how wrong you are. But that's not the point. We need your help to try to sort this mess out. None of us want people to die and somewhere inside I don't think that you want Angel to get hurt. But if that isn't enough motivation for you then I can only hope that this will change your mind."

He looked around and focused in on his group for his next revelation - after all, it affected them the most.

Angel lurched up in his bed, wide eyed and panting. It couldn't have happened... there was no way that he had... Desperately he ran his hands over his throat, his breath gradually calming as he realised that it had just been a dream. Just another dream. He lifted himself from the sleep warmed bed and padded to the window. A cool breeze was blowing through the small crack he'd left open causing the gauzy curtain to billow out towards him. Lazily he stroked it back into place watching the silent street below. It was so strange to see LA quiet, even just a little part of it.

Despite the drain that his dream had on him, he felt strong; stronger than he had done in a very long time. It was amazing what a little sleep could do for a body, he'd have to let Wes drug him again some time if he was going to wake feeling like this. He'd have to let Wes know that he was ok with what he had done, he knew that Wes would be tearing strips off of himself over it, but Angel had needed him to take control and he had done.

He stretched, allowing his muscles to ease themselves out and shake off the lingering sluggishness. He felt peaceful, it was a nice change. He really didn't want to leave the room because he knew that the moment he did so he would have to let the real world back in and he wasn't ready to do that just yet. Prolonging the return to reality he tiredly moved towards the bathroom and flicked the shower on. He was so relieved that he had thought to keep the hotel in working order even though he no longer lived there. He still came here to think when things really got to him. It was his sanctuary.

He had come here after Cordelia died and just sat in his room, drawing countless images of her face pulled in every expression he could imagine. Well that was what he had intended on doing but all he had been able to draw was that smile. There was no one in the world with a smile that brilliant. No matter how bad he felt, just the simple memory of how that smile had lit up her face and the entire room always lifted his spirits. She, the memory of her, was his guardian angel. As he stood under the warm spray feeling the counterfeit rain batter down on him, heat spreading into every fibre of his being and washing away reality (for the time being), he tried to imagine what Cordy would have had to say about Gabriel. He imagined that it would have started with 'hello', ended with 'goodness' and there would have been a 'salty' thrown in there for good measure. She would have given him good advice. She always did. Wes was the one that solved the problems and Cordy was the one that handed out the tips that meant he functioned normally. After all, she was Cordelia Chase, she didn't think, she knew!

He knew that the only problem she would have had with Gabriel was that he was a vampire and therefore 'evil' but he thought that given how he had always treated Angel she would have been more tolerant of him than she would be of Spike at the minute. Yet he couldn't help his feelings. He loved Spike so deeply that it was dangerous. He'd given Spike everything that he had to give, given him more than he had ever given anyone but it hadn't been enough. He wasn't Buffy and that was obviously who Spike wanted. On the other hand Gabriel was here for him after 240 years of separation claiming that he wasn't going to let Angel go again and that he was not going to do anything that would make things difficult for Angel. Even though him being here was difficult for Angel.

On one side was the 'good choice', stick with Spike; he had a soul, was a champion, didn't kill, was destroying him from the inside, and on the other was Gabriel the 'bad choice'. Did he have the courage to take what he wanted for once? He had never really had anything that had been truly his. The humans that had infected his heart were all part of a world that he couldn't enter. They had sunshine and families and happiness and he constantly lost them to that daylight world. Connor had only been his for a few short months yet he had been stolen and he could never have him back. Had he been selfish, Angel would have erased the Quor'toth and given him a happy childhood in the Hyperion; but in the end he loved his son, more than that and had given up the child that would never love him and who he would never force to. Spike had obviously never been his, he had still devoted a huge part of his heart to Buffy and Dru and Angel knew that there was no way that he could compete with them. Spike had been with Dru for almost 120 years and he had gotten a soul for Buffy...

Gabriel though... Gabriel was his. Gabriel had made him, shaped him and driven him despite the fact that Angel had refused to remember him. At first he had been so hurt that Gabriel abandoned him and just vanished, leaving him, a young fledge, sireless and alone in a foreign country. Then the hurt had vanished only to be replaced by blood searing anger. Angelus was forged in the heat of that inferno. He hated Gabriel. Hated him for leaving him to the Order that he had promised to save him from. Hated him for making the Master want him. Hated him for loving him, for really and truly loving him. Then as the Master became more brutal and he became more rebellious he cursed Gabriel for the position he was in. Gabriel had made him too human, he felt for Penn when he had seen that haunted look in his grey eyes that reminded him of his own childhood, and he broke himself over and over building himself back up as a creature that couldn't love anything so as to deny the fact that he was so desperate to feel it himself. He refused to fall into that trap again. He stormed his way through Europe making the world shudder at his feet so that no one would want to love him. He broke those he turned so that they only craved his blood and his cruelty. He never wanted to hear them demand his love or spill out sweet nothings in sibilant whispers over his skin.

Then he got his soul. The horror at what he had done because of love made him banish Gabriel to the deepest darkest depths of his psyche. He refused to believe that he and Gabriel had ever been lovers because if they had then what did that say about his ability to love? After a hundred years of denial and god knows how long in Hell, Gabriel was nothing more than a name in a book he couldn't touch and the faintest echo of green eyes in the darkness. Gabriel couldn't have been in his Hell because that wouldn't of hurt him, Buffy was deemed a better torment... how wrong they were.

The hot water continued to pound down on the creamy skin but the heat couldn't penetrate the icy cold that had spread from within. Angel was scared of the choices that he might make, what would his darkest desires cost the world this time? The last time he had acted on them Angelus, utterly devoid of any trace of Liam, had been unleashed to terrorise Sunnydale and pull the world that much closer to Hell. He couldn't afford to have what he wanted and he would never have what he needed... but that didn't stop his heart from shattering as he realised what he must do.

Shivering from his own cold, he stepped from the shower and towelled himself off. He dressed hurriedly and left the hotel on foot carrying with him a spare sketchbook safely tucked under one arm. He had one thing that he needed to do, one thing he wanted to do and then he would what he had to do. He would be the champion; even if it destroyed his soul... there wouldn't be anything of him left for vengeance to claim by the end of this night.

It was amazing what money could buy. People say that money can't buy true beauty, but they were wrong. If you are the CEO of Wolfram and Hart and throw enough money at people you can buy anything... except what you really want. But this place was beautiful. There was a small frothing brook that tumbled down through jagged rocks and was framed perfectly by the lush green grass that was a little longer here than elsewhere in the manicured park. This area was totally natural. Wild flowers grew in scattered clumps, their pretty coloured faces peaking out from the sea of green. It was sheltered by gnarled trees that were probably older than he was. Their roots had clawed their way out of the ground at points, making little hollows to sit in and wallow in the simplistic peace of the place. What was truly beautiful though, the thing that had made him say that he desperately wanted this spot was the moon. Its positioning meant that moonlight illuminated the little dell throughout the night, bathing it in silver and turning it into nothing short of a fairyland. The only thing he had altered was to plant a patch of Queen of the Night Cactus, a small bed of little white flowers that opened at night. He loved to sit and watch as the flower slowly opened revealing the golden stamens and releasing its exquisite perfume. It was magical.

When they had all become members of AI they all had one request, should they die they wanted to be cremated, not buried. None of them wanted their bodies resurrected to play host to a demon or a means of tormenting those left behind. When she had died, they had followed that request to the letter. The only thing was that none of them wanted to let go. They wanted a grave, a place to go and mourn, their own Mecca of grief - but nothing had seemed suitable. Until one night a demon hunt led them all to this shaded glen.

And somewhere beneath the Queen of the Night lay a black onyx box, wrapped up in a velvet bag. The top of the box was etched with one word, Cordy. A little way away from there, wrapped in another velvet bag was a video tape, a copy of Doyle's advert, all Angel had left of him. There were no grave markers, nothing that would tell people about the treasure beneath their feet, nothing to mar the beauty of the place. Angel had bought the entire acre, all of them expressing the same wish to lie here when their job was done as a family and that is what they were going to do.

Tonight though he hadn't come here to sit and talk or listen. Tonight he had come for a very different reason. Beside him sat two velvet bags, one an emerald green, like Doyle's, and the other was a deep red. Angel, settled between the roots of an old sycamore tree, inhaling the sweet aroma of the Queen of the Night and listening to the nocturnal noise, began to draw.

The first was a boy, shaggy hair that came to his chin and seemed wild and untameable. Laughing eyes that crinkled at the edges and a wide smile that lifted his entire face. His body was wrapped in old fashioned clothes; breeches, a linen shirt that wasn't fastened properly and was untucked in places and hung over the waistband of the breeches, his waistcoat was a fine one and obviously expensive but hung off his body as if it were a poor rag. His buckled shoes were scuffed and his cravat was hanging round his neck. There was nothing refined about this boy except for the obvious joy he held for life.

On the second piece of paper he drew a man dressed in elegant clothing, fine silk waistcoat, impeccable breeches and perfectly starched shirt. A ruffed cravat tucked neatly under his chin. His hair, smooth and glossy hung neatly to his shoulders and framed his finely sculptured face. The smooth cheekbones emphasised the hypnotic cat eyes that stared enticingly out at the artist, tempting him to kiss the slightly smirking lips.

Angel glanced critically over both pictures, making sure that they were perfect, nothing else would suffice. He traced a finger over the thick pencil line on the gentleman's picture, slightly smudging the graphite lines but all in all adding something to the piece. He closed his eyes, branding both images onto his brain and a small crystalline tear dropped to land on the man's lips. Unable to do anymore Angel rolled both pictures up and tied them both with a piece of ribbon before slipping them into their bags. He dug a shallow grave and placed both bags in it, their black drawstrings entwining as lovers were wont to do. He pushed the earth over the bags and pulled himself up. He left the glen with a whispered "Goodbye."

The streets were quiet despite the hour, eleven o'clock and alls well. Angel passed a lamppost that had a tattered and wind torn missing poster taped to it. Something about it drew his attention and he stared at the face of a boy Connor's age. Sandy blonde hair and hazel eyes and a pouting mouth stared back at him. White light exploded behind Angel's eyes and he took off running as fast as he could towards the boy's hideaway in the subway tunnels.

For the past half hour Wes had explained the nature of Cordelia's visions to the uneducated amongst them and in doing so had revealed to them both a very different Cordelia Chase, a girl that they had never known, and a new Angel. Two heroes that did everything they could to save one another time and time again. He told of how Doyle had died and passed the visions to Cordelia, how she had kissed everyone that crossed her path to get rid of them, how Vocah had unleashed the world's pain onto her through them, how the Pyleans' worshipped her as a Princess because of them, how Wolfram and Hart used them against Angel and finally how they led her to become a demon. 'Wow' had really been the only way to respond to the tale.

Willow had listened with rapt fascination as Wes described how the Powers had communicated to the group and how pure the gift was. She knew many witches in the Coven who had the gift of foresight but none of them actually had true visions from the Powers. To her, a student of the magicks, this was mind-blowing. Giles was fascinated by the topic too, but for a slightly more impure reason. Angel could be of great use to the Council if this was true. His visions would give them a great advantage. The rest of the Scoobies were in awe and a little confused by what it meant but were taking it as proof that Angel was considered good.

Everyone else was worried. Spike had seen visions take their toll on Dru for over a hundred years and these sounded worse than hers. Plus with all the other bollocks in Angel's head he was worried that these may drive him insane. A thought that was being shared by the others of the group.

"But Wes man, what about what Skip showed Cordy?" Gunn tried not to arouse suspicion with that comment and was quite successful.

"Given the fact that Skip had his own agenda at the time I am going to take his recommendations with a fairly hefty pinch of salt. However, Angel's visions are different from Cordelia's."

"Well, actually Lorne I was going to ask your advice on this. He says that the visions are painful but only when the occurrence is urgent. He also told me that he has other visions, premonitions. Yesterday, before he came into the conference room I noticed him by the door. He then turned to glance into the foyer and seconds later the two clerks collided and began screaming at one another. He didn't seem surprised. At the time I thought that he was just out of sorts so I ignored it. Now though I think he saw it happen before it actually did. What do you think?"

He turned hopeful and inquisitive blue eyes to the green demon, who had a thoughtful look on his face.

"Not sure Crumpet... but they sound like the real deal to me. I know some demons that may be able to tell me more though."

"Poor Angel, he's really suffering isn't he?" Fred's empathetic voice resonated in all of them, twanging on the strings of their consciences making them vibrate with worry and guilt. No one had anything to say. Except Andrew...

For a while they were all silent, each contemplating the revelations of the evening and their potential ramifications. It was Willow who broke the silence, commanding a great deal of respect with her gentle and well thought out words.

"So what do we do now? We don't know that Gabriel isn't a threat to Angel, or us, and we do need to find him. But what we really need is a plan, something that covers all the bases and leaves Angel with an out."

Everyone nodded their agreement and Wes breathed a huge sigh of relief. His final gambit had paid off. He knew that, for Giles at least, the prospect of harming a declared warrior for good would be very hypocritical and it had swung the sympathies of Buffy and Xander. He sunk into the comfy leather chair and passed the books to everyone. He didn't notice Spike pick up the sketch book and flip through it, casting venomous glares at his 'rival' and being heartbroken by the images of himself. He'd never forgive himself if he'd fucked this up for good.

They hadn't been researching long when the office door opened to admit a bloodied and bedraggled Angel. He was covered in demon gore, a deep blue gunky fluid that was presumably blood. His shirt was ripped to sheds and the furrows of claws were visible through the scraps of material. There was also a nasty looking scratch on his face and arm. Despite his appearance, Spike knew he wasn't hurt, he couldn't smell that intoxicating aroma that was Angel's blood. He looked exhausted. Angel stopped dead when he saw the congregation gathered around his conference table. He saw a flash of guilt on Wes' face and suddenly understood.

"So they know?" His voice was low and husky with fatigue. His shoulders slumped a little more and he leant on the door frame for support.

"Yes, Angel I know I..." Wes was cut off mid apology by a nodding Angel. He gave a forced smile.

The LA group gave a light laugh at Angel's dry humour and the combination of embarrassment, amusement and guilt that danced across Wes' expression all at once making him look a little odd.

So focused on Wes, Angel had failed to notice Spike move towards him. Those were the first direct words that he had spoken to Angel in almost a week and Angel found himself tongue tied. A part of him felt like a hormonal teenager whose major crush was finally noticing them and the other part felt wary. He didn't trust that Spike wasn't acting concerned because of what Wes had said. He didn't want Spike's pity, he wanted his love. He saw genuine concern in the blue eyes that he believed more beautiful than any sapphire and desperately wanted to believe them but he couldn't. He had to stay strong, this was going to be a hard enough night as it was.

He shifted nervously under everyone's scrutiny, unable to look them in the eyes. He felt as if he'd been caught sneaking in late.

He motioned to the elevator indicating that he was going to go and take a shower and change. Everyone nodded in agreement. And he moved towards the only route to the penthouse. Spike desperately wanted to follow him, to talk to him on his own but realised that now wouldn't be the best time. Angel was too worn out and he didn't want to add any more pressure to that.

"Yes, you do that Angel and when you come back we can discuss what we have to do."

Angel came to an abrupt halt and moved back towards Giles. Fear and anger clenched at his gut and he hoped that that comment didn't mean what he thought it did.

"Sorry Giles, what did you mean by that?" His voice was perfectly neutral and his features were schooled into a practised poker mask.

Angel hung his head and summoned all of his courage. Overcoming his sudden nausea and his fatigue he looked the Watcher dead in the eye.

"There is no we here Giles. You lot aren't involved. I'll deal with Gabriel, alone."

Cries of outrage met his declaration and he stood strong, weathering the storm. Eventually, fed up of being treated as nothing one minute and the centre of the universe the next, Angel's infinite patience found its limits.

"Enough! None of you are coming with me on this! I am going alone because that is what I have to do! This is nothing to do with any of you and I am not going to turn up like a coward with you lot to hold my hand! I owe him more than that! I don't care if you do or don't believe that I'll go through with it but I am going on my own and I will have you all locked up here if that's what it takes!"

Angel was surprised that they had all shrunk back from him during his little explosion. He guessed that they weren't used to him losing his cool.

Gone were the deep chocolate eyes and in their place were deep golden ones. Not the yellow of vampire eyes but a reddish gold , like burnt gold. They were flashing with anger and power, both of which were rolling off him in waves so strong that even the 'normal' humans amongst them could taste it. His canines had lengthened too. They weren't the usual ugly jagged fangs but elegant points just lengthened enough to stand out from his other teeth. He looked like the romanticised vampire of Hollywood but that wasn't what worried them... they could all tell that he didn't know he'd changed. He was unaware of his body's reaction to his anger , 250 year old Master Vampires didn't lose control like that. Nor did they look like he did.

Spike moved towards him, very worried about this new development, and grabbed Angel's arm so as to turn him away from Giles. As soon as his hand clamped down on Angel's wrist, Angel screamed...

He'd been here before , it was familiar but he couldn't tell why... There were voices, shouting and screaming... A voice was yelling, louder than the rest, crying and begging for them to stop. He moved through the... apartment... as if in a dream. The edges of his vision were blurred and the features of the rooms were distorted... He could see an open door , white light spilling out of it but the white was edged in shadow and the shadow grew as he got closer. It was as if he were underwater... everything was sluggish and muted and he couldn't move as fast as he wanted to...

After what felt like an eternity he reached the door. He saw three figures in the room and there were other shapes lingering on the edges of his vision but the three were clear... it was as though they were in a spotlight. Two of the figures were fighting and the third , the one that was begging, was on the floor... on their knees... trying to stop them...

One figure was wrapped in what looked like green velvet... it cloaked every inch of him... except for the black wings that broke free of his back and were held high and proud , bristling with their own anger. The second fighter was swathed in black but a brilliant gold light was exploding from within him... a blue halo surrounded his body. His posture was as aggressive as the other figure's...but there was a ferocious passion there too, an awesome force of passion...

The kneeling figure had wings too, but these were white with blackened edges... as if they had been charred... His wings weren't proud... they fell behind him... touching the floor and showing the figure's despair as well as any facial expression could. This one was a mix though... he was cloaked in red but the same golden light broke through the thick fabric...

Suddenly an arrow whistled past his head... he couldn't see who had fired it but it triggered something in the fighters... they launched themselves at each other...

He felt someone try to touch him but he threw them off. He was shaking and screaming and seeing the same thing over and over. The thing was, he didn't know who died; just that one of the people he loved more than anything was going to kill the other...

When he came too he pulled himself back so that he was huddled against his desk. How did he stop this? If he told, then they would have Gabriel killed because Spike deserved to live more. If he didn't tell then it might happen by accident. He couldn't stop this! There was no way to save one without the other dying... He had lost...

He felt Spike's arms wrap around him, panic flooded his system and he bolted from them and from the room. He could hear them following him as he fled from the building. He knew LA better than all of them and he was faster, he knew where he was going as well. He just had to stay ahead of them all. If they weren't with him then he could get to Gabriel first...

He had been so wrong. He had thought that he would be able to kill Gabriel if he couldn't get him to leave... but that vision... oh he had been so very wrong. He loved Gabriel as much as he had ever done in his life , he couldn't lose him. Not now, not ever...

He didn't stop running the whole time that it took to get to Cordelia's apartment. They had stopped following him after ten blocks, Spike after twenty odd but they wouldn't find him here. None of them even knew that he owned the place. He'd bought it after Dennis had forced the new occupants out. Cordy had loved Dennis and he'd wait until Dennis was ready to accept another tenant.

Spike was now edging past furious and towards terrified. He had never thought about how Angel would view Buffy coming to town. He had been convinced that she would come between them because of their feelings for her. He had totally forgotten that Angel only ever committed to one love at a time. He would still care for Buffy but he wouldn't love her. He wasn't an adulterer. He may have slept with many men and women but he would never cheat. Spike had been so flattered by the attention that he had received from the Scoobies, people he had died to help, delighted to finally be part of the group that he had been blinded. All he had ever wanted was to be accepted for who he was, to be treated like a man and the Scoobies had been treating him as a dear friend. He had never stopped to consider that he hadn't had to die for Angel to prove his worth. He had just loved him and Angel had given himself over so completely that Spike had had him mind body and soul. He held all that Angel was.

"I don't know Spike; it is something that I would have expected his lover to know!"

Wes was scared. Actually he was hurtling past scared and towards terrified. He knew how horrific visions were from what Cordelia had told him and how painful. He also knew that they were even more painful for Angel, especially right now. Angel had to be terrified. He would be remembering what Cordy had said about him being driven mad by the visions. So at the moment he wasn't concerned about Spike's pettiness.

"Look, leave Spike alone, it isn't his fault that Angel had a fit and ran off!" Buffy didn't know what was going on but she was tired of him getting the blame for Angel acting like a crazy person.

"Actually Buffy I would say that most of this is Spike's fault. You don't claim someone and then spend a week with an old lover! Not when it's Angel and he has given so much! Been through so much!"

"And we don't know that? We know what Angel has been through Wesley, we know him."

"No Buffy, you all just got to know a pretty façade that Angel put up to hide who he was! I am sure that he told you that he was raped when he was a child or that he only got by on the streets as a prostitute? Do you know what happened to him in Hell? Or perhaps you are aware of the fact that he was in love with Cordelia and lost her to something he trusted and could never hope to fight! I am sure that you know all of that!"

Wes couldn't believe what he had just said. He had just told every one of Angel's most valued secrets in a fit of temper. He had betrayed Angel just as surely as Spike had.

"He was in love with Cordelia?" Buffy was shocked. Somehow she had known that Angel had a life outside of Sunnydale but the fact that he actually had a life she wasn't part of shocked her to the core. She looked around and saw that her friends were just as shocked as she and that Spike looked ready to kill Wesley along with all of Angel's other friends.

"Don't... I know... I... kill me later. We need to find him now! That vision showed him something, well if I had to guess he either saw Gabriel's death or Gabriel coming after us! Don't be fooled, he is in love with Gabriel; Angel will try to keep him safe. Especially now. He... I dread to think what he'll do for this. We have brought Angel lower than ever before, he has had a mask to hide behind before, he doesn't now. He is scared and alone and he will do something stupid."

"Wes is right you guys. You don't know this Angel. You don't know how far he'll go. He'd end the world to save a loved one, he opened a portal to Pylea to find Cordy, and he killed Jasmine. He'll fight for this." Fred knew that this was dangerous. She had seen Angel angry and sad and dangerous but never terrified. She was scared for him and scared that she may lose a friend tonight.

"He loves him?" Spike deflated at the idea of that. He had never thought that he might have competition for Angel's affections. For the life of him he couldn't work out why he had thought out that. Who wouldn't want Angel? Why wouldn't there be an old lover? Angel had 250 years of lovers, why wouldn't any of them still want him as much as Spike did?

"I think that he does Spike. I think he may still love you, but you have hurt him so much and not even noticed it. For God's sake, Harmony saw more than you did! But that isn't the problem at the moment; you can try to get him back once we get him back!"

"Wes man, I think I know where he is... well at least it's where I'd go if I were Angel."

Chapter Nine

Gunn didn't want Wolfram and Hart to know about Angel's prospective bolt hole just in case he was actually using it. He also didn't want the Scoobies to know because judging by the way Angel had reacted to them and to the vision they were a source of Angel's fear and pain, so he spoke in friend only code. Luckily Fred and Wes were smart...

"Of course... Where else would he feel safe after the hotel?" Wes went to his office and grabbed his coat. "Gunn, Fred and Lorne, you guys come with me the rest of you stay here."

"No bloody way! I want to find Angel and I need to go! I don't care what you say Percy! I have to make this right."

Spike was storming towards the doors, willing the tears that were marring his blue eyes away. A strong hand clamped on his arm and he turned expecting a small blonde slayer to be on the end of it. Instead there was a stone faced ex-Watcher.

"You might be what he is running from."

Spike felt as if a stake had been pushed through his chest at that very moment. Could that really be the truth of the situation? Had it come so far that Angel would run from him? He knew deep down in his heart, in the places so dark that he refused to visit them that it was. He had abused Angel more thoroughly than the Master could have ever managed. He had ripped Angel to shreds but he hadn't been there to pick up the pieces. He had broken every single promise that he had ever made to Angel just because of Buffy.

He looked up at Wes with hopeless blue eyes and willed him to understand his need to go, but it didn't look as though he was going to be swayed. For once, Gunn was the practical member of the group.

"As much as I agree with English on this and as much as I don't want to hurt Angel more I think that we could use a bit of muscle on this... just in case."

High above the City of Angels carried on invisible wings, pain, fear and desperation moved towards their target... they hit with the precision and force of an inter-continental ballistic missile.

Angel was curled up in a ball on the sofa in Cordy's apartment, shaking with fear. He didn't want either of them to die and yet he didn't know how to save them. The vision showed that his desperate pleas had fallen on deaf ears, that they had ignored him and faced off against one another. What else could he do? If he left LA he doubted that would stop them , it would only stop him having to witness. Then again it may draw Gabriel away... but he'd have to leave Spike...

Every so often a small gust of air blew over him in a gentle caress and he knew that Dennis was trying to offer some support but there was nothing that he could do. He wondered if it was easier to be a ghost , you can't be hurt physically but there was still the emotional pain that came with existing. Was it worth it? Was all the heartache really worth it just to be able to walk the earth? Wouldn't he rather have oblivion? Oblivion couldn't hurt him; oblivion couldn't break him into thousands of tiny pieces and refuse to put them back together at the end. Oblivion seemed peaceful. It seemed the best option. He had tried to imagine his life without Spike, his life without the possibility of Gabriel... it was the blackest despair that he could conjure. He knew that he couldn't allow one of them to kill the other because if they did he'd lose them both. He'd never forgive either of them for such an act. He was the only criminal here, he should have dealt with Gabriel last night on the roof or he should have made Spike acknowledge him. He had let them walk all over him and the result was that he might lose them both forever.

Or he'd lose himself. Not for the first time did Angel consider running , really running. Not to a high roof top or an old apartment but away... far away... somewhere they wouldn't look for him. He doubted that would work though. Gabriel would follow him if he had to and he couldn't see Spike letting him... no he could. Could he release Spike that way? Would they all just move on if Angel wasn't there to cause problems? He had destroyed all of them at some point or other. The cruelty that he had unleashed as Angelus or signing that damned contract... surely they'd be better without him to hurt them further? He wasn't worth all of the pain that they were forced to suffer. Cordy and Doyle had both lost their lives because of him... then there was Darla, Holtz, Jenny Calendar, Daniel, Penn, Drusilla, Spike... then Buffy whose first love was two and a half centuries older than her and had hurt her more than anyone should be hurt in their lives... there were thousands of graves that had been dug because of his hands. Was he really worth this?

Tears rolled down his cheeks as he remembered everything that he had done in his life. The disappointment that he had seen in his father's face when he had been caught stealing or seducing the maid. The pride and awe on Darla's when he had wanted to kill the entire village. The horror on Dru's as he had turned her below a crucifix, seducing her into his bed as he went. The screams as he'd beaten William until there was only the smallest amount of blood left in his veins. He started to gasp for air that he didn't need, hyperventilating through the horror of his actions. He knew that he had to calm down so that he could help Gabriel avoid death. He knew that he shouldn't be considering it but he was going to help him escape and if he broke down now he would hurt the only person in the world that he had never harmed. He couldn't do that to Gabriel.

He pulled himself out of his tight ball and started to breath as he would if doing tai chi. In and out. In and out. Deep, slow, steady breaths to bring his sanity back to him. In and out. He felt the peace begin to wash over him and he closed his eyes focusing on his breathing. He had to do this for Gabriel...

A black marble plinth rose from the floor of the room. On it sat a glowing golden ball. It was small and looked as fragile as glass yet he didn't think that it was made of glass... Directly behind the plinth was a large throne made of the same black marble. They looked so stark against the relief of the rest of the room. White marble floors and walls and twelve other chairs...Except... the wall behind the black throne...

At the very top of it was a white inverted three point star, a crowning glory on the black wall. From the bottom point extended what could almost be a family tree , except their were no names just strange symbols, glyphs... he didn't know what they meant... The first layer had twelve glyphs on it... twelve chairs... He continued to stare at the wall hoping to be able to decipher something from it but there was nothing. He watched as a deep red , almost black , globule formed in the centre of the star. It ran down the bottom point and like a stream of water, ran along each line of the tree and into each of the fifty or so glyphs. Once it reached them, they glowed, first red then gold building to a searing white light. The fluid still flowed until it reached the bottom of each line. Then something... more strange... happened... the fluid drained out of each glyph except two , the star and a strange looking H entwined with a K curving out of one of the uprights and wrapping itself around the H. It was like an H within a giant three surrounding it. He didn't understand it but all of the liquid was flowing to that very symbol. It built in light and then the fluid burst out creating another pathway... an inverted V with a flaming sun at its apex appeared and seared itself into the wall. He wasn't sure what it meant or how he was meant to understand it but he was trying - he really was.

He turned round in a small circle to view the rest of the room. It was a great hall with just the twelve chairs and the black throne and the strange orb. He looked back to the wall and started in shock. Stood before the throne was a man watching the wall, his back to Angel. He bent his head as if in prayer and then he straightened. Angel tried to speak, to ask him what was going on when the man turned to him and his breath was snatched away...

He was indescribable... All Angel was aware of was a honey colour skin, titian hair with strands as red as blood and golden as the sun... and burnt golden eyes gazing at him with... pride...

"Angel."

"Angel! Petit you have to wake up, come on Mon Ange, come back to me."

Gabriel had never moved as fast in his life as he had when the smell of Angel's fear hit him. He had flown through the streets following the screaming scent and ended up in a set of stylish Spanish apartments. He followed his senses to an apartment door and although there was no one living in the flat there was actually someone 'living' there , besides Angel. A ghost couldn't stop him from entering the apartment but could make it difficult for him once he was in there. Especially if it was an established spirit. He was pleasantly shocked when the door opened for him and he was pushed in by a forceful air. His heart was in his mouth when he reached the sparsely furnished living area and saw Angel unconscious on the couch. Unable to smell blood , Angel's blood , in amounts that would suggest a normal reason for his state he started to worry. When Angel failed to stir even slightly in response he became very worried.

Dennis was also worried but as no vampire could hurt him , there was the occasional benefit to being dead , and as this one didn't seem to want to hurt Angel he allowed him in, despite Angel's request that no one got in , not even Wesley , because Angel needed help. Dennis understood fear and despair , he'd seen it on Cordelia's face after Doyle's death, after the visions, after a hard night helping people , but this was beyond him. Angel seemed distraught and if this vampire could help him Dennis wasn't going to stop him. So Dennis left Gabriel to help Angel and went to lurk in the hallway.

Gabriel kept talking to Angel, unsure as what to do. He could sense no physical malady and had a horrible feeling that this was caused by those visions. So he sat down on the sofa and pulled Angel into his body and held him, whispering in his ear and stroking his hair, willing Angel to come back to him.

Gunn produced the keys to two of the seven seater people carriers that Wolfram and Hart owned and they all piled in to the sleek black vehicles, Wes and Gunn behind the wheels. They pulled out of the basement garage and into the LA night, slipping into the traffic like sharks, moving silently and swiftly towards their target, gliding in and out of the other cars like shadows.

Bleary brown eyes blinked and focused on worried green ones. Slowly Angel realised that he was lying on top of Gabriel, cradled gently in strong arms. He hadn't been truly held for a week, he hadn't woken in arms that were loving and protective and so real. He didn't think. For once Angel didn't analyse his actions before he acted. He burrowed further into the strong chest below him, revelling in the feel of someone holding him. He didn't resist when Gabriel brushed a kiss across his forehead, rather he leant up and pressed a soft kiss to Gabriel's lips. He meant it as a thank you but something in him snapped with that gentle touch and he melted into Gabriel's embrace.

Wes pulled the car into the curb and killed the engine. The motor had barely stopped turning and they were all out of the car, Gunn pulling in behind them. Wes turned to the group.

"Let me talk to him. If he wants you to leave you do so , don't make it any harder for him than it has to be." He glanced up at the building they were stood in front of, he felt as though he was in a horror movie and standing before the haunted house, his fear was that great. "I have an awful feeling that nothing will be the same after tonight."

It was only a whisper but everyone heard it as loud as a fog horn. They each felt that thick fear in the base of their gut and desperately tried to ignore it. It caused a ripple of terror to flow through Spike turning into a shudder that crept up his spine and ran over every nerve. He would be damned before he lost Angel.

Fred, wide eyed and ashen, slipped a shaky hand into Wesley's as they turned and went into the building.

Angel broke the kiss and scrambled off Gabriel and the sofa, retreating until his back touched the wall. Gabriel looked at the frightened boy that was shuddering in the corner. Something was very wrong with his boy.

"Angel? Tell me Petit, what is haunting you?"

Wide eyes stared at him in a silent plea , Angel didn't want to tell him. He wasn't going to accept that. He moved towards Angel, slowly and calmly and squatted down in front of him. He stroked Angel's face, trying to get him to calm down and Angel lent into the touch, tears rolling down his cheeks.

"I saw it."

"Saw what Angel?"

Hopeless brown eyes stared up at him, so full of fear and love that Gabriel withdrew his hand for a moment. Before brushing his thumb over the quivering lips. He moved closer.

"Mon Ange?"

"I saw them kill..." his eyes widened and darted around the room. It was here. His vision had taken place here. "No!"

Angel spun on Gabriel and lightening fast got to his feet and holding Gabriel in a vice like grip began to drag him to the door.

"We've got to get out of here!"

His voice was strained and his hold on Gabriel was relentless. His nails bit into Gabriel's flesh drawing blood despite the fact that he was quivering like a leaf. He reached the door and gripped the handle.

Wes led them down the corridor towards Cordy's old home, his sense of dread building with every step. Once they reach the door they silently they all looked at one another and agreed that Wes would be the first in. He reached out and turned the handle.

The door opened a crack...

The door slammed shut with a resounding bang that ricocheted up both Wes and Angel's arms. Wes tried pushing the door as Angel, so scared for Gabriel's safety that he failed to sense his friends' presence, frantically started pulling at it.

"What the bloody hell are you playin' at Percy?" Spike's hissed comment was joined by a low growl and a flash of amber eyes.

Angel froze when he heard that voice... This couldn't be happening! They couldn't have found him so quickly.

"I'm not doing anything Spike! The door... Dennis? It's Wesley... could you let me in?"

He tried the handle again and Angel watched as Dennis slammed the door for him again. It was as if he realised how dire the situation was but Angel didn't have anytime to be grateful. He whirled on Gabriel with wide eyes and shock white skin to find Gabriel looking like the devil himself, glaring at the door.

"Don't..."

"Angel? Is that you? Look, just let me in and we can talk , the others will stay out here just..."

"No! Go away Wesley! Please!"

"Angel, just..."

"Go away Watcher."

The new, slightly accented voice caused Wes to stagger back from the door in shock and the others to stare at the door intently unable to decide whether they believed that Angel had betrayed them and they were shocked at it or that they were shocked at themselves for bothering to trusting Angel. Spike growled deep and low. There was no mistaking the meaning of the growl, it was purely territorial. It was the bone rattling growl of an Alpha Male who's found someone else marking in his territory. It was about dominance, aggression and possession and there was no mistaking that. In Spike's eyes Angel was his. He'd accepted the claim that Spike had placed on him and had lived as his pet for a month , despite the act that they had put on for everyone around them. To all vampires such acts meant that Angel was Spike's unquestionable property and no other Master Vampire was allowed to go near to him in such away , they needed his permission.

"Angel. Open this door. Now."

Spike's voice was unnaturally calm and the tone was one that no one had every heard him use before. It was still , there was no other way to describe it. Each word fell like a weight and carried the maleficent tone of a funeral knell. Instinctively a part of Angel heeded his Master's voice, but another part, a smaller but powerful part of him was pulling away from that voice. He didn't get a choice in what happened though as Gabriel caught him by the arm and pulled him back from the door. He looked up into those green, green eyes and he knew that he couldn't open the door. He couldn't allow that prophecy to come true...

"Please... please go away."

Spike growled again at Angel's refusal to do as he was commanded, he knew that if Angel began to pull against the Claim he would be irreversibly damaged.

"Angel, I am not asking you, I am telling you to open this door. Right now."

Again there was the tone of voice that had all the cheer of a graveyard in winter. It was terrifying for all to hear but for Angel it was anguish. He heard it in every cell of his body; a small echo of what Spike said constantly repeating and commanding and it was becoming harder to fight. Before he could answer though, he heard another growl. Low and deep and powerful.

They all did. Spike did. Gabriel was challenging him and he wasn't going to back down. When it came to Claims there was a protocol involved. There were only three ways that a Claim could be released from its master , the death of the Master, the death of the Claim or the Claim's jesses being handed over to another. The last hardly ever happened though. For a vampire to take a Claim was a serious affair and one that was only undertaken with eternity in mind. They 'cared' for the creature that they owned, whether it is about sex, a power that they held or bloodline tradition, there was a want for the Claim, a want that went beyond average desire and hurtled towards obsession. Another Master wasn't even allowed to touch a Claim without the Master's permission. There were many reasons for this, but there were three that stood out more than the others, three that meant more than the others. The first was scent. A Claim had very little of its own scent left on its skin although it's still there in the blood. Instead, they smell like their Master. It can take years for the process to be completed fully, entirely dependant upon the relationship between the Claimer and Claimed and in the early stages of Claiming this can be disrupted. The second was simple , possession. They owned the Claim and it was theirs to do with what they wanted. The third was about power. Having a Claim, having the ability to claim another vampire indicated that you were a powerful vampire; it elevated you in vampire society.

A growl like that meant only one thing , Gabriel was challenging Spike over Angel. Spike had two options fight or surrender and he had never backed down from anything in his life... He growled back.

"No... please don't do this..."

He was tired. He was so very tired. His head was hurting and his heart was breaking and he was tired of it all. He didn't have the energy to stand anymore. Gabriel caught him as he slid boneless to the floor. He could hear yelling outside and Gabriel murmuring in his ear but nothing made sense...

Black wings... White wings marked with black...

He could hear Wes yelling through the door telling him to open it so that they could talk. He heard Spike's commanding tones telling him to get out of the room and away from Gabriel, threatening Gabriel with everything that he had. He could hear Willow and Fred trying to calm the situation down. He could hear Gabriel telling them to leave now , that Angel didn't need them here at the moment. He heard his own voice begging them to leave, begging Dennis not to let them in. But everything was muted, fuzzy.

A blue halo and a golden core... a broken angel with a golden core...

It was as though he knew it was happening but he felt like it was happening to someone else. Someone who wasn't him. He was just a detached spectator moving through the scene saying the lines that he was expected to say but he heard nothing really, he felt nothing. He just wanted to escape, to get Gabriel out of there... he wanted everything to go back to how it was before any of this. Go back a month... go back 240 years. Then he heard the words that broke him from his mind spin...

"Move!" It was Buffy's voice commanding total obedience.

There was a fierce bang on the door and he just knew that she was going to break it down. He scooted over to the door and braced it with his weight.

"Gabriel, please go! I saw them kill you! Get out of here!"

"Angel move from the door now!"

"No! Please, just let me sort this out!"

The door rattled again, giving him the only answer that he was likely to receive. He was forced forward slightly by the force of the impact. He moved back to his position. He looked at Gabriel and tried to put everything he was feeling into that look.

"Gabriel... please..."

Gabriel shook his head and fell into a defensive posture. He knew exactly what was behind that door and he wasn't going to back down. He had come for Angel and he wasn't going anywhere without him.

"Please, just get out of here!"

The pounding on the door was becoming fiercer and fiercer and he knew that he and Dennis could only hold them off for so long. Behind that cherry wood door were two slayers, a powerful witch and an angry vampire, and Dennis was only one ghost and he wasn't in good shape. He needed Gabriel to leave and leave now , if he didn't then someone was going to become ash and he was going to lose a part of himself along with them or his own life in an attempt to stop it. He would die for both of them , he loved them that much... he just wasn't sure that they really felt the same for him but he was prepared to risk it.

"Not leaving you to face them alone Mon Ange , you mean too much for me to do that."

"They'll kill you."

There was no hope in Angel's voice anymore. His entire body had closed in on itself and he could see no other future than death. The death of someone that he loved more than his own life. Gabriel refused to leave the shell of his love like this. He steeled himself and his green eyes turned an umbered gold and small fangs made themselves known.

"They are going to try."

Weak from all the heightened emotion racing round his system, Angel didn't have the energy to do anymore than crawl over to Gabriel and kneel at his feet. He stared into the green eyes that had watched over him so long ago and willed him to understand.

The cherry wood door exploded as Buffy's foot slammed through it.

All that greeted them was an empty apartment and an open window.

Angel had gone...

Chapter 10

Four days. Angel had been gone for four days and no one had heard anything from him at all. He had just vanished... with Gabriel. He hadn't even gone back to Wolfram and Hart to get his things. For four days Spike had waited alone in the penthouse, hoping desperately that Angel would come back to him, but knowing in his heart that he really had no reason to. Spike hadn't dared to leave though. He needed to be here. It still smelled like Angel. He could still taste him on the mugs in the kitchen and the dark blue toothbrush in the bathroom.

When he had realised that Angel had gone, fled Cordelia's old apartment in order to protect Gabriel from them he wished that he could have just turned to dust. Instead he sank to his knees and stared out of the window, icy tears filled with hate and self recrimination eased themselves down over his cheeks and teased the corners of his lips, making him taste the misery that he had caused. His mind had stopped there and then. He had lost the most important thing in his life and he would have gladly greeted the dawn but Buffy had dragged his pliant form out of there.

He had spent the first day without Angel trapped in a cotton wool world of self-hatred. He looked at everything that he had done over the past few days trying to understand how he had let it all go so wrong. He found no answers there. He only found shame and heartache. He recalled the few times that he had looked at Angel and he had seemed withdrawn but he had been quickly distracted by the antics of a Scooby and thought nothing of it. He knew that he had betrayed Angel the moment he had seen them all in the office but he had been shocked. That was no excuse though and he knew that he would give his very soul to undo all the hurt that he had caused.

Wes, Gunn and Lorne still weren't talking to him although they acknowledged his feelings, he knew though he would never be able to make this up to them. He had cost them their dearest friend. Only Fred had come to him; tried to speak to him, tried to get him to feed, tried to stop him cutting himself. He hadn't been able to do anymore than cry and bury himself in her embrace, all the while aware of the fact that he deserved none of her comfort. When the Scoobies had come into Wolfram and Hart to say goodbye Buffy had asked him to come to Rome with her saying that she didn't understand what had happened between him and Angel, but that they could work something out. He had hit her. Hard. Then he had broken down again when Wes said that he might as well go, he'd already paid for it. Willow had promised to try to find Angel for them and in the end she was the only one that left on good terms with any of them.

The only hope that they had was that Willow had been able to confirm that Angel was still alive, she just didn't know where.

They had searched the entire city, Special Ops did sweeps every hour, as did the mystics, but Angel had vanished. So all Spike had left of him was the physical echoes that lingered in the room. He held a shirt when he tried to sleep, unable to believe that he would ever be able to sleep without the aroma of warm honey and ginger that was Angel. More tears made their way down his face as he realised that the scents were fading. In a week or so he wouldn't even have that.

"This is what I did when Gabriel left me all those years ago. I almost destroyed myself waiting for him to return."

The soft whiskied voice stroked over his entire body, charging it with life and Spike shot off the bed. There, bathed in moonlight, but melting in and out of the shadows as he was dressed all in black, was Angel.

He looked tired and calm, but Spike could smell the anguish that was pouring off him. He couldn't help the flare of jealousy that sprung to life as he wondered if the only reason Angel was here was because Gabriel had left him again. He stamped it out as he realised that it didn't matter why he was here, he was here! He now had the chance to try to apologise, to make things right again, to undo all the hurt that he had caused. He stepped to Angel and ran a trembling hand over his cheek, only this physical contact would guarantee to him that Angel was real and not a hallucination born of a tortured mind. Soft skin met his and he felt the tears build anew.

"You're really here."

A soft whisper in the darkness echoed by the gentle caress that he lay upon the cream skin. He moved in closer so that he was almost touching Angel top to toe.

"I needed to get something."

Spike recoiled at the implications behind that statement. Angel wasn't staying. Angel was leaving. He had lost him. Bugger that!

He moved his body back to Angel's and snagged the silky brown hair in a strong hold dragging him down and claiming those soft pink lips in a bruising kiss. Spike poured out all his passion in that kiss, all of the anguish he had felt over the past few days, all the love and need that he had for the gorgeous soul he was fiercely clinging to. He felt Angel's lips begin to bleed under the intensity of his kiss but he couldn't stop, he wasn't able to let go. Strong hands slid up his arms and pushed him away, holding him at a distance and preventing him trying to kiss his way back into that heart.

"No Spike. I can't, please..."

Angel's voice was a hoarse whisper, strained from the hurt at seeing Spike again and at being kissed like that. Arousal and anguish, an uncomfortable combination. He pulled away, unable to remain so close to that lithe form that he loved and feared so much. He couldn't ever hate Spike but he would always fear the hold the blonde had over his heart. Fear the day that Spike would set out to hurt him and utterly destroy him in the effort.

"Angel, I'm so sorry, please just stay, hear me out! Please, that's all I want... let me explain!"

Spike had never begged for anything in his life, but he was begging now. He was choking on his tears and begging to be allowed to speak, because he couldn't bear to lose what he had finally found. He moved towards Angel and choked back a bitter cry as Angel retreated from him. In those sable eyes he saw enough hurt to weigh down the world. He could see Angel breaking before his eyes and it was his entire fault. He could have stopped this had he only looked up from the pedestal that the Scoobies had placed him on and seen the real hero.

"Please, Angel... I love you so much..."

"Not enough to keep me though. You promised you'd never hurt me... you destroyed me Spike. Not even Hell managed that... I love you with everything I am, I gave you everything I was... but it wasn't enough..."

"It was, it is! Angel, I am so in love with you... I can't lose you... I won't..."

He caught Angel's arm in a firm grip and tugged, pulling Angel towards him. Overcome by his tears, Angel was pliant in his arms and he wrapped himself around the shuddering figure. For a moment the world just stopped for Spike as he held Angel, revelling in how right it felt. He couldn't help the happy sigh into Angel's skin as he realised that Angel didn't smell like Gabriel, well not like he'd had sex with him in the past four days. A small frisson of hope began at the base of his spine. He could see a small light at the end of the very dark tunnel he was in...

He placed a small kiss on Angel's neck. When that wasn't rejected he placed another, working his way higher and higher until he reached Angel's mouth. The kiss was like their first one only a month ago, tender and loving and heartbreakingly soft. Spike gentle mapped his away around the familiar mouth that he knew he would never be able to do without. Angel tasted sweet like his honeyed skin but there was the spicy flavour of hurt lying underneath. He wanted to lick that hurt away so bad that he deepened the kiss. Inwardly he was crowing as Angel tentatively returned his caress.

They broke apart with soft lingering kisses. One of Spike's hand's had drifted to the small of Angel's back and the other was cupping his cheek. Angel had one on Spike's chest and the other on his hip, small, but to Spike immense, displays of trust.

"I love you Angel. I promise Pet, nothing like this will ever happen again. I love you too much."

Angel smiled faintly and pressed a truly loving kiss to Spike's lips and then another on his forehead before he pulled away. Tears gathering in his eyes.

"I can't stay Spike, no listen please... just listen. I love you more than anything. I love you more than I have ever loved anyone, even Gabriel but I can't stay. This? What we have? Its not a relationship Spike... it's an obsession. I am in so deep and it terrifies me because I know that you have the power to destroy me. You almost managed to this time and you weren't even trying. What happens when you try?"

"But I won't Angel. I promise that I won't ever hurt you... not gonna hurt you. Promise. Love ya too damn much to do that."

Spike was speaking quickly, slipping between his natural, upper middle class accent and his affected cockney one, his entire façade was crumbling at Angel's words. Angel wasn't rejecting him, he was fleeing him. He had hurt Angel more that he imagined. Suddenly a white hot flame of jealousy ripped through him.

"What 'bout your precious Gabriel?" The sneer wasn't even put on. It was there in every word and facial expression.

Angel shook his head wearily. "This has nothing to do with him. This is about me."

"Yeah, like he's not gonna come sniffing after you're arse... like you didn't just risk everythin in savin him. He a good fuck Angel?"

Spike was growling and his eyes were bleeding from blue to yellow and Angel stepped back, not wanting to get into a fight about this as well. He hadn't wanted to see Spike for this very reason... If he had just left then he wouldn't have to leave on a wave hate... he didn't want Spike to hate him and he knew that he would at the end of this.

"Spike! Please just listen to me... I was ready to kill Gabriel that night because it was the right thing to do. I spent the entire evening drawing, a way to say goodbye to him... but then, that vision... I saw the pair of you dust and I knew that I could let either of you die."

"Because you love us so much?" The sneer was stronger than ever.

"Yes and because you are both such a huge part of me. I realised through that vision that... if I killed Gabriel I'd kill a huge part of myself. Gabriel was the first person to ever love me. he was the first person in my life that didn't want anything from me... that didn't want to hurt me... he was my first love Spike. He repaired all the damage that Donal and my father did and he made me whole again , just like you did after the Master and Hell and... If I killed him Spike, that part of me, Liam, would die too. I thought that I could cope with that so I said goodbye to Liam too.

But that vision... that changed anything. The Power's were telling me that I couldn't afford to lose that part of me... I could let you kill him either because then I'd lose Gabriel, Liam and the part of me that is you. I would never have forgiven either of you for killing the other because you'd have killed me too. So I ran... and I had no other way out, you gave me no other way out. If you'd have let me talk to him, or listened to me at any point then... I don't know..."

"But you're still leavin' so you can't love me that much." It was back. That voice, the dead tone was back and it chilled Angel to the bone.

"Aren't you listening to me? You are the biggest part of my life... but it's more than that. You are my life. There is this piece of me that you made and I am terrified of that part because all you have to do is leave me and I'll curl up and die. And it's not your fault. It's mine. I've let you and Gabriel and the Master and my father dictate who I am. I have never tried to find out who Angel actually is, there was always been someone in the background; someone whose expectation I had to live up to. I can't do that anymore, it'll destroy me. I need to work out who I am and I can't do it here."

Spike seemed to consider this for a moment and then he shook his head.

"No Angel... Ya know, I've had a few rejections in the past but that is the biggest load of bollocks that I've ever heard! You're a coward Angel! You're runnin from what everyone'll think of you. You're runnin back to your Daddy so..."

He was cut off when Angel's fist collided with his jaw hard enough to push him to the floor. That was it, Spike snapped. He lashed out at Angel catching him in an upper cut that was quickly followed by a side kick that sent Angel crashing into the wall. He quickly sprung to his feet but he didn't try to retaliate.

"If that's what you believe Spike then I guess we really are over."

The distressed waver to Angel's voice smashed through Spike's defences and he flew across the room, pinning Angel to the wall before he could blink. One arm was pressed across Angel's torso and the other was in his hair, roughly yanking it back, baring the side of his throat to Spike's lengthening fangs.

"You forgot one thing Pet, I claimed you... You're mine."

He sank his fangs into Angel's flesh, hard and deep. He ignored the fists that were banging on the wall and the body which was frantically trying to push away from him. Angel's struggles reminded his demon of all the kills that it missed and he bit down harder. This wasn't about passion this was about property. He ignored everything in favour of making Angel his property again.

Under the pull of the blood loss Angel began to sag in Spike's arms, nearing unconciousness. Spike moved the hand from his hair and wrapped it around Angel's waist and pulled him towards the bed.

"You're mine Angel. You gave yourself to me, willingly and 'm not lettin you go!"

As Spike pushed Angel down onto the bed, tearing at his trousers with desperate hands his frame of mind changed. He went from needing to own Angel to needing to love him, needing to bring Angel back to him. He ignored the hands pushing him away and the desperate voice that was begging him to stop. He needed to show Angel how much he loved him, how much he needed him, how much he wanted him. He tore at the poncy silk boxers and at the shirt that was hiding that perfect pale skin from his eyes and hands. The tearing of material and the harsh panting of an overly aroused vampire were the only sounds that could be heard in the penthouse.

Angel stopped fighting when Spike ripped his boxers from his body, somehow sensing that this was one of those inevitable parts of life. He couldn't help the chill that settled on him when he realised what was happening. Spike was raping him, not because he was consumed by blood lust but because he wanted him. And that was what changed everything for him. That was what stopped his fight. For the first time, he realised that Spike truly wanted him. Desperately wanted him. That didn't stop him from screaming when Spike brutally thrust into his unprepared hole and began to saw in and out as hard and fast and deep as he could.

Angel's scream pierced his consciousness and Spike realised with a wave of utter horror what he had done. He'd raped Angel. Again. He started to pull back but two strong arms wrapped round him and held him in place, deeply embedded inside Angel the strong hands cupped his face and he stared into the chocolate eyes that had trusted him not to do this very thing only a month ago.

"I love you."

Angel said the words with no pretence or force behind them. He simply stated what he knew to be the truth, he did love Spike.

Angel leant up and captured the cupid-bow lips with his own hoping that he could convey to Spike that he truly meant it. He didn't want this to destroy Spike because he knew that it wouldn't destroy him. Spike began to kiss back, slowly and gently and his tears mixed with their saliva making the kiss salty and sorrowful. Angel ran his hands into Spike's hair, down the t-shirted back until he reached the hem. He started tugging at the material until Spike obligingly pulled the offending item of clothing from his body. He kicked his jeans further down his legs, his buried cock jolting as he moved sending pleasurable shockwaves up Angel's body. Angel's hands never stopped their exploration, they ran over every muscle, every bone, every piece of flesh. They mapped every available piece of Spike's flesh and when they couldn't reach his legs, he lifted his own and ran them down the side's of Spike's legs. He touched every single part of Spike that he could, wrapping himself in Spike's flesh.

Spike didn't let up on Angel either. He kissed Angel everywhere he could, leaving a searing trail of saliva across Angel's lips, jaw, eyes, forehead, neck and shoulders. He laved at the bite mark until Angel was writhing under him due to its sensitivity. He bit down on a pebbled nipple rolling the other between his fingers. At no point did he stop his gentle and shallow thrusts, thrusts that purposefully missed Angel's prostate forcing Angel to push back against him in order to get what he wanted. Combined with the nipping, the touching, the kissing and the general feeling of Spike, Angel was going mad with need. He was babbling and grabbing at Spike trying to get relief from the tension that was coiling in his belly.

Suddenly, everything changed. Neither of them was sure what had happened to spark the change but something did... The pace changed and along with it did the actions. Spike stopped his teasing thrusts and began to glide in and out, slowly and smoothly, exerting pressure on Angel prostate with every move. His hands ran up and down Angel's sides as Angel wound one into his hair and used the other to trace feather light fingers over Spike's cheek bones, nose, lips and eyes. They didn't kiss. They needed to watch each other. Blue eyes gazed down into liquid chocolate ones, and apart from the colour, there was no difference between the two. Both glowed with love.

Love so deep that it came from their very souls.

Across lips, as intimate and private as any kiss and infinitely more precious, was whispered three little words, words that wars had been waged over, words that people die to hear, "I love you." And when they came, it wasn't with harsh screams of names or 'Yes!' it was with a silence , because words are often inadequate.

Spike pulled out of Angel and rolled off of him, pulling Angel with him and wrapping him up in bands of steel. He wasn't letting Angel go ever again. Even if that meant that they never left the bed. He felt tears roll down his cheeks and matching ones land on his chest. He pressed a tender kiss into the sweat slicked sable hair.

"I really do love you Angel."

"I love you too. More than anything. Please never forget that."

"I won't Angel, I won't ever forget you again."

Wrapped together, they fell into a weightless sleep, the type that can only be produced by peace.

He felt the morning sunshine break through the slats of the blinds that ineffectually tried to cover the windows. He revelled in the warmth that the light brought with it. Happily he inhaled deeply and smelt the night before. It had really happened, Angel had come back to him. Spike rolled over to look at Angel and wake him up in a very popular way.

He felt his heart jump into his throat. Angel wasn't in the bed.

He was alone, not just in the bed, but in the apartment.

On the coffee table were two objects. A piece of paper and Angel's Claddagh ring glinting in the morning sun. He picked up the piece of paper and recognised the words immediately. Donne. The name said more than the poem's words really.

Angel had left for good.

A pair of green eyes surveyed the city. He wasn't here anymore. He couldn't sense him... but he would. He'd waited over 240 years; he could wait a bit longer. Turning Gabriel walked into the LA night, not sure that he would ever be coming back here again. It all depended on where his hunt led him. He closed his eyes and let his mind drift.

There.

He smiled.

Blood always calls to blood.

He had his Childe to find.

From:

A VALEDICTION FORBIDDEN MOURNING

By John Donne

Our two souls therefore, which are one,
Though I must go, endure not yet
A breach, but an expansion,
Like gold to aery thinness beat.

If they be two, they are two so
As stiff twin compasses are two ;
Thy soul, the fix'd foot, makes no show
To move, but doth, if th' other do.

And though it in the centre sit,
Yet, when the other far doth roam,
It leans, and hearkens after it,
And grows erect, as that comes home.

Such wilt thou be to me, who must,
Like th' other foot, obliquely run;
Thy firmness makes my circle just,

And makes me end where I begun.

The End

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Gabriel

Author: ebonyflames