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xtremeroswelliaTitle: Illusions 1/12 Story 1 in the "Who I Am, What I'll Become" series
Author: X_tremeroswellian
Email: faithboscorelli1@yahoo.com
Disclaimer: Not mine. Angel, Cordelia, Wesley, and any Scooby Gang cameos belong to Joss Whedon. Liz, Max, Michael, Maria, Alex, Isabel, Tess, Nasedo, and any other Roswellians belong to Melinda Metz and Jason Katims. Please don't sue.
Distribution: Just let me know the link.
Rating: PG-13 for now (for language, violence, adult content)
Author's Note: This is an Angel-Roswell crossover with possible cameos by the Scooby Gang from Buffy the Vampire Slayer.
Spoilers: For Angel, everything up through and including Shanshu in L.A. (1st season's finale), and for Roswell, everything up through and including Destiny (1st season's finale)...
Category: Story
Subcategory(ies): Action-Adventure, sci-fi-horror, angsty romance.
Keywords: Crossover/Series
Summary: Fleeing Roswell's painful memories, Liz takes off to L.A. and finds trouble, leaving Angel, Cordelia and Wesley to save her; little do they know they're in just as much trouble as she is.
Feedback: Would be appreciated. :)
Illusions (Part 1)
Angel surveyed the new office carefully. It was bigger than their old one, though it was still mainly an interior office, thus allowing little chance of sunlight to burn him alive.
"Do you like it?" David Nabitt asked him anxiously, looking hopefully.
Angel nodded, giving the man a half-smile. "It's great, Mr. Nabitt."
"We appreciate your financial assistance," Wesley told him as he sat down on one of the desks that Mr. Nabitt had had delivered that afternoon.
"Well, anything to help. After all, you guys saved my life, and it's not like money's a big issue for me."
Angel glanced over at Cordelia Chase, who was staring blankly at the coffee maker. She was wearing a yellow blouse and an ankle length black skirt, a tame outfit for her. Her long dark hair was swept up in one of those hair clips and fastened neatly on her head.
She was still pale, but other than that, she seemed to have recovered from Vocah's mind attack okay. Wesley, too, was mostly healed.
He and Wesley had stayed at Cordelia's apartment for a week after she'd been released from the hospital. Wesley, of course, had his own place, but after everything that had happened, the three of them weren't anxious to be apart again. They were, as Cordelia had pointed out, family.
One week for everyone to recover and then they had started the search for a new office. They hadn't searched long before David Nabitt had shown up on Cordy's doorstep, holding the deed to a building he'd bought--and given to them--free of charge.
Angel had been reluctant to accept the gift, but Cordelia had pointed out that unless they found a new building soon, they weren't going to be able to help a whole lot of people. Wesley had agreed, and Angel had given in and accepted the generous present.
"I'll get your sign up by tomorrow. The one outside the building and the one for your office door."
"Thank you, Mr. Nabitt, but really, we can take care of--"
"Oh, nonsense. The faster all the advertising hits the papers and the details are taken care of, the faster you guys can get back to the business of saving lives and fighting demons," David said cheerfully. "Besides, I like spending money on other people," he added, looking over at Cordelia hopefully.
But if she heard the comment, she didn't acknowledge it. Angel honestly didn't think she'd even heard it at all. He glanced over at Wesley, who had a concerned expression on his face, and the two of them exchanged a look.
The phone ring and Wesley quickly grabbed it. "Angel Investigations. We help the hopeless." He paused, and listened. "Uh, yes, hold on." He covered the receiver with his hand. "Mr. Nabitt, it's for you."
"Oh." David took the phone from him.
Angel took the opportunity to walk over to Cordelia. "Hey." When she didn't respond, he frowned and put a hand on her shoulder. "Cordelia? You okay?"
She blinked a couple of times and her eyes focused on his face. "What?"
"You were a million miles away. Is everything all right?"
"Yeah, I'm fine. Sorry," she answered vaguely.
"That was my office. They need my help, so I have to go. I'll come back tomorrow and make sure the signs are done and everything." He headed for the door. "Hang with you guys later."
Angel shook his head as David left the office. "So, what do you guys think?"
Wesley leaned back in the chair. "Well, it's nice. Close to Cordelia's apartment, and the carpet's clean."
"And not too much sunlight," he added. "Cordy?"
"It's great," she said with forced cheerfulness.
Angel and Wesley exchanged another look. "You know, Cordelia--" Wesley began.
Cordelia suddenly grasped onto the side of the table she was leaning against, closing her eyes tightly and grimacing.
"Vision," Angel said grimly, as he quickly guided her into a chair, kneeled down in front of her and kept his hands on her shoulders, as though he could somehow pull her out of her own mind if need be.
She leaned forward, pressing her hands to her forehead as all the color drained from her face. Wesley moved to Angel's side, holding a glass of water and two pain killers in his hand. After a few seconds, Wesley shifted nervously. "Angel, is she all right?"
Angel's jaw tightened as he stared at his friend, willing her to come out of the vision. He moved one hand to her wrist, feeling for her pulse, which was much more rapid than normal. Come on, open your eyes, he thought.
"Angel?" Wesley repeated, fear creeping into his voice.
"Come on, Cordy," he whispered.
"Should I call 911?"
At that moment, her eyes opened, and she clutched Angel's arm for support. "Are you all right?" he asked immediately.
Cordelia swallowed hard and nodded. "There's a girl at the train station. Dark hair...she's in trouble. A man is after her."
Angel stared at her intently. "You're sure you're okay?"
"Yeah, go on. I'm fine." She accepted the pain killers Wesley held out to her as Angel stood up. Just as he reached the door, she called, "Angel! Be careful. I have a bad feeling about this."
He nodded. "I'll be back," he promised. Angel met her eyes for a moment, and then turned and hurried off into the night.
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Liz stepped off the train and onto the subway platform. Only a few other passengers got off at this stop in L.A. She glanced around, her stomach twinging with nervous anxiety.
Well, you're not in Roswell anymore, Dorothy, she thought wryly. Time to find a payphone and call a cab.
Liz veered to the left, where a row of payphones lined the wall. She dug some change out of her pocket and flipped through one of the chained down phone books. After she'd ordered a cab, she glanced around the darkened station.
She didn't see anyone around, but the hairs were standing up on the back of her neck. Every instinct she had was telling her she was in danger. She reached into her pocket again and pulled out her keys, prepared to use them as a weapon if she had to.
"Excuse me, Miss. Do you have any spare change?"
Liz whirled around to face the man who had spoken. He was an older man--probably in his late 40s or 50s, and was wearing raggedy, torn clothing and a pair of ratty tennis shoes. His face was almost completely covered by a wool scarf.
"Um, no, sorry," she answered, and moved away from him.
"You know, the problem with your generation is you're a bunch selfish, spoiled brats! Somebody oughtta teach you a lesson!"
Liz shuddered and backed away involuntarily, clutching her keys so tightly her knuckles turned white.
The man gave a low chuckle and pulled a sharp knife out of his coat and held it up for her to see. "You're very pretty," he told her as he moved closer.
Liz dropped her duffle bag and ran in the opposite direction as fast as she could. She could hear his footsteps behind her, coming closer...
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Angel glanced around the nearly-abandoned station. He heard footsteps--two sets--approaching and then a frightened scream.
He emerged from the shadows and stepped between the girl and the man chasing her with a knife, positioning himself so he was facing the man. Upon seeing Angel, the man stopped his chase abruptly and stared at him.
"Don't you know it's not safe to run with knives?" Angel asked, narrowing his eyes and glaring at the man.
The man stared back, but only for another moment. Then he dropped the knife to the ground with a clatter and turned around and ran in the opposite direction.
Angel frowned, stooped down, picked up the knife, and tossed it into the nearest trash can. The girl was staring at him in surprise. "Are you okay?" he asked.
"Yeah, thank you."
He nodded. "You shouldn't be out walking alone at night in this city. It's not safe."
"I know. I'm waiting. For a taxi."
"I'll wait with you."
He watched her brown eyes widen slightly and she brushed a strand of her dark hair behind her ear. He couldn't help but think the girl looked a little like Cordelia. "Okay. I...dropped my bag," she told him as she moved by him cautiously.
Angel paused, puzzled by the emotions he sensed from her. Not fear or even anxiety, but a wariness towards him. A wariness that was very uncommon from a girl her age. She couldn't be more than 17.
He watched as she picked up her bag and glanced at him. "Are you...a cop?" she asked hesitantly.
He shook his head and wondered if she was a runaway. Then he realized her wariness hadn't subsided or grown by his admission. "No, actually, I was just out for a walk."
"It's not safe to walk alone after dark in this city," she told him, and he couldn't stifle the urge to smile a bit.
"No, it's not. But I'm not a target."
The girl raised an eyebrow. "Women aren't the only ones who can get mugged, you know."
Angel agreed. "However, there are circumstances that supercede my situation."
"So if you're not a cop, then--?" Her voice held a slight touch of suspicion.
It was Angel's turn to hesitate. He wasn't very good at making conversation or telling people about his work. He remembered his vow to Cordelia a few weeks ago. 'I'll try harder,' he'd said.
"I help people that are in trouble," he told her.
She frowned. "But you're not a cop."
"No." He fumbled for the words. "I'm sort of--an investigator." He pulled out one of the business cards from his pocket and handed it to her.
She looked down at it and then back up at him, an unreadable expression on her face.
"People come to us for help when they don't feel like they can go to the police." She nodded and started to hand the card back, but he shook his head. "Why don't you keep it?" he said quietly as his eyes met hers.
She held his gaze for a moment and then slipped the card into her jean's pocket. "Who are you?" she asked as the taxi pulled up.
"Angel."
"Hey, Miss, you order a cab?" the driver asked, leaning over and peering out the open window.
She blinked. "Yeah." She opened the door, tossed her bag inside and looked at Angel. "Thank you for your help."
Angel nodded and watched as she slipped inside the cab and was driven away. "Who are *you*?" he wondered aloud, staring at the tail lights as they disappeared around the corner.
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Nasedo watched him from across the street, his eyes flashing from the intensity of his glare. Liz Parker should have been eliminated by now, but because of him she wasn't.
Yet.
Nasedo wasn't sure who the man was exactly, but he knew he wasn't human. He wasn't an alien, either.
It didn't really matter. If he had to, he'd kill him along with the Parker girl. He just had to make the deaths look like random acts of violence. No sense in alerting other aliens--especially Max Evans--by using his powers to kill them. He didn't want anyone to suspect him when he was supposed to assist in the upcoming battles.
But with the Parker girl out of the way, Max would have no reason not to accept his destiny and lead the revolution.
And then Nasedo could finally return home.
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"You were *what*?"
Liz winced and held the phone away from her ear for a second before returning it. "I'm okay, Maria. Really. I promise."
"God, Liz. Did you go to the police?" Alex asked in concern.
She shifted so her legs were propped up beside her on the hotel room bed. "No. I sort of didn't have to."
"But I thought you said you got mugged," Maria protested.
"I said almost mugged."
"Liz, how did you get away?" Alex questioned.
She pulled the business card out of her pocket and looked at it. "There was a guy there. He...saved me."
"What guy?" Maria asked immediately.
"I don't know exactly." She hesitated. No need in making everyone paranoid about a P.I. saving her. Besides, in the past year she'd developed this odd ability to sense danger, and while the guy hadn't seemed normal exactly, he didn't seem dangerous, either. At least, not dangerous to her. "He just said he was out walking."
"A likely story," Maria snorted.
Liz could imagine her sitting lotus-style on Alex's bed, brows furrowed in worry, probably convinced that the man was an alien hunter of some sort. "He was okay, Maria."
"How did he save you?" Alex asked.
"He stepped in between me and the mugger. And when the mugger saw him, he dropped the knife and took off."
"Knife? There was a knife?" Maria shrieked.
"Oh, my God, Liz," Alex muttered.
Liz cringed. She hadn't meant to tell them that part.
"Where's my cedar oil?" Maria demanded and Liz could hear her dumping out the contents of her purse.
"Guys, it's okay. I'm fine."
"Liz, you should come home," Maria argued.
"I can't," Liz said softly, an image of Max kissing Tess flashing into her mind, and bringing involuntary tears to her eyes. Get over it, they were destined to be together, she told herself.
"But it's so much safter here, Lizzie. I mean, people don't run around town chasing other people with knives!"
"No, they just shoot innocent bystanders in crowded cafes when they argue," Liz replied wryly, remembering the day that she had been shot, the day that had changed everything...
There was a moment of silence.
"So this guy who saved you. Did he have a name?"
"Angel," she answered, glancing down at the card in her hand and staring at the angel design on it.
"That was his name? Or do you mean, like, guardian?" Maria asked.
Liz blinked, considered it, then answered softly, "You know, I'm really not sure."
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Wesley handed Cordelia a cup of coffee.
"Thanks," she mumbled. She was lying on the 2-seat sofa in the new Angel Investigations office, and staring at the clock, which now read 11:21.
Wesley was pretty sure she hadn't blinked in a half hour.
"He'll be okay, Cordelia," he told her quietly as he sat down on the edge of his desk.
She shifted her gaze to his face. "Of course he will be. He's Angel," she said, her words harsher than the expression in her eyes.
Wesley took no offense by her tone. Angel had been gone for nearly three hours, and he was getting a bit worried, too. He sipped his own coffee and studied her from the corner of his eye. The color had returned to her face and she was no longer holding her head. Apparently the pain killers had finally kicked in and helped lessen her headache from the vision.
He and Angel had discussed the possible reprecussions of Vocah's mental attack on Cordelia. The demon, in an attempt to cut off Angel's connections to the Powers That Be, had left a mark on her than forced her mind open to receive visions of all the people who were hurt or in trouble in the world. She had collapsed, screaming from the pain of the endless visions, and had been sent to the neuro-psych ward of the local hospital. The only way the visions could be stopped was to read the words of Anatole from the Sacred Scroll. Unfortunately, after marking Cordelia, Vocah had stolen the scroll from Angel and blown up the original Angel Investigations office--with Wesley in it.
Angel, of course, had saved him from a fiery death, and had battled Vocah for the scroll. In the process, it had been grabbed by Lindsey McDonald, a lawyer who worked for Wolfram and Hart, a demon defending agency that they'd had several encounters with. After killing Vocah, Angel had tried to convince Lindsey to give him the scroll, but the man had held it over an open flame instead, forcing Angel to cut off Lindsey's hand to keep him from burning the the only thing that could save Cordelia's life.
He and Angel had worried about what possible lingering effects the demon's mind attack could have on her. They weren't even sure if she would continue to get the visions, or if she did, if they would be harsher than they previously had been.
Wesley knew that when the vision had come to Cordelia tonight, the first one she'd had since the attack, he and Angel had both been frightened. Especially since there wasn't really anything they could do had something gone wrong.
At that moment, the door opened and Angel walked inside, covered in dirt, dust and blood. He and Cordelia both jumped to their feet.
Angel shook his head quickly. "It's not my blood," he told them.
"I know that," Cordelia said, rolling her eyes. Wesley noticed that her stance relaxed slightly and most of the worry left her face. "What *did* happen?"
"Pack of vampires. Not happy ones."
"Don't know many that are," she muttered.
"How many's a pack?" Wesley asked.
"Eight."
He frowned. "All travelling together?"
"Apparently."
Cordelia sighed. "Which means--?"
Angel looked at her. "That they're up to no good."
"Well, at least we're back in business," she said, trying to sound cheerful.
"What about the girl at the train station?" Wesley asked.
"Safe. Although..."
"What?"
"Something was off about the whole situation."
"Off how, exactly?" Wesley grabbed a pen and notepad, ready to take notes.
"The guy that was chasing her, for one."
"Vampire?"
"No."
"Demon?" Cordelia suggested.
"I don't know. Maybe. But he definitely wasn't human."
"Why is that strange? Most of the people in this city *aren't* human," she pointed out.
"Yeah, but this was different. He was chasing her with a knife. Demons and vampires don't tend to use weapons to kill their victims."
"What do you think we're dealing with?" Wesley asked him, frowning.
"I don't know," Angel admitted. "But I'm pretty sure this is something different. Something none of us has ever dealt with before."
Cordelia edged away from the door a bit. "And whatever it is, it's still out there somewhere."
Wesley recognized a touch of fear in her voice. Not a lot, and not noticable to anyone who didn't really know her, but it was there all the same, no matter how minute it was.
Angel noticed it, too. "Research at Cordy's apartment?" he suggested nonchalantly.
Wesley nodded in agreement and noticed that she seemed relieved to have company.
"I'll drive," Angel volunteered.
Author: X_tremeroswellian
Email: faithboscorelli1@yahoo.com
Disclaimer: Not mine. Angel, Cordelia, Wesley, and any Scooby Gang cameos belong to Joss Whedon. Liz, Max, Michael, Maria, Alex, Isabel, Tess, Nasedo, and any other Roswellians belong to Melinda Metz and Jason Katims. Please don't sue.
Distribution: Just let me know the link.
Rating: PG-13 for now (for language, violence, adult content)
Author's Note: This is an Angel-Roswell crossover with possible cameos by the Scooby Gang from Buffy the Vampire Slayer.
Spoilers: For Angel, everything up through and including Shanshu in L.A. (1st season's finale), and for Roswell, everything up through and including Destiny (1st season's finale)...
Category: Story
Subcategory(ies): Action-Adventure, sci-fi-horror, angsty romance.
Keywords: Crossover/Series
Summary: Fleeing Roswell's painful memories, Liz takes off to L.A. and finds trouble, leaving Angel, Cordelia and Wesley to save her; little do they know they're in just as much trouble as she is.
Feedback: Would be appreciated. :)
Illusions (Part 1)
Angel surveyed the new office carefully. It was bigger than their old one, though it was still mainly an interior office, thus allowing little chance of sunlight to burn him alive.
"Do you like it?" David Nabitt asked him anxiously, looking hopefully.
Angel nodded, giving the man a half-smile. "It's great, Mr. Nabitt."
"We appreciate your financial assistance," Wesley told him as he sat down on one of the desks that Mr. Nabitt had had delivered that afternoon.
"Well, anything to help. After all, you guys saved my life, and it's not like money's a big issue for me."
Angel glanced over at Cordelia Chase, who was staring blankly at the coffee maker. She was wearing a yellow blouse and an ankle length black skirt, a tame outfit for her. Her long dark hair was swept up in one of those hair clips and fastened neatly on her head.
She was still pale, but other than that, she seemed to have recovered from Vocah's mind attack okay. Wesley, too, was mostly healed.
He and Wesley had stayed at Cordelia's apartment for a week after she'd been released from the hospital. Wesley, of course, had his own place, but after everything that had happened, the three of them weren't anxious to be apart again. They were, as Cordelia had pointed out, family.
One week for everyone to recover and then they had started the search for a new office. They hadn't searched long before David Nabitt had shown up on Cordy's doorstep, holding the deed to a building he'd bought--and given to them--free of charge.
Angel had been reluctant to accept the gift, but Cordelia had pointed out that unless they found a new building soon, they weren't going to be able to help a whole lot of people. Wesley had agreed, and Angel had given in and accepted the generous present.
"I'll get your sign up by tomorrow. The one outside the building and the one for your office door."
"Thank you, Mr. Nabitt, but really, we can take care of--"
"Oh, nonsense. The faster all the advertising hits the papers and the details are taken care of, the faster you guys can get back to the business of saving lives and fighting demons," David said cheerfully. "Besides, I like spending money on other people," he added, looking over at Cordelia hopefully.
But if she heard the comment, she didn't acknowledge it. Angel honestly didn't think she'd even heard it at all. He glanced over at Wesley, who had a concerned expression on his face, and the two of them exchanged a look.
The phone ring and Wesley quickly grabbed it. "Angel Investigations. We help the hopeless." He paused, and listened. "Uh, yes, hold on." He covered the receiver with his hand. "Mr. Nabitt, it's for you."
"Oh." David took the phone from him.
Angel took the opportunity to walk over to Cordelia. "Hey." When she didn't respond, he frowned and put a hand on her shoulder. "Cordelia? You okay?"
She blinked a couple of times and her eyes focused on his face. "What?"
"You were a million miles away. Is everything all right?"
"Yeah, I'm fine. Sorry," she answered vaguely.
"That was my office. They need my help, so I have to go. I'll come back tomorrow and make sure the signs are done and everything." He headed for the door. "Hang with you guys later."
Angel shook his head as David left the office. "So, what do you guys think?"
Wesley leaned back in the chair. "Well, it's nice. Close to Cordelia's apartment, and the carpet's clean."
"And not too much sunlight," he added. "Cordy?"
"It's great," she said with forced cheerfulness.
Angel and Wesley exchanged another look. "You know, Cordelia--" Wesley began.
Cordelia suddenly grasped onto the side of the table she was leaning against, closing her eyes tightly and grimacing.
"Vision," Angel said grimly, as he quickly guided her into a chair, kneeled down in front of her and kept his hands on her shoulders, as though he could somehow pull her out of her own mind if need be.
She leaned forward, pressing her hands to her forehead as all the color drained from her face. Wesley moved to Angel's side, holding a glass of water and two pain killers in his hand. After a few seconds, Wesley shifted nervously. "Angel, is she all right?"
Angel's jaw tightened as he stared at his friend, willing her to come out of the vision. He moved one hand to her wrist, feeling for her pulse, which was much more rapid than normal. Come on, open your eyes, he thought.
"Angel?" Wesley repeated, fear creeping into his voice.
"Come on, Cordy," he whispered.
"Should I call 911?"
At that moment, her eyes opened, and she clutched Angel's arm for support. "Are you all right?" he asked immediately.
Cordelia swallowed hard and nodded. "There's a girl at the train station. Dark hair...she's in trouble. A man is after her."
Angel stared at her intently. "You're sure you're okay?"
"Yeah, go on. I'm fine." She accepted the pain killers Wesley held out to her as Angel stood up. Just as he reached the door, she called, "Angel! Be careful. I have a bad feeling about this."
He nodded. "I'll be back," he promised. Angel met her eyes for a moment, and then turned and hurried off into the night.
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Liz stepped off the train and onto the subway platform. Only a few other passengers got off at this stop in L.A. She glanced around, her stomach twinging with nervous anxiety.
Well, you're not in Roswell anymore, Dorothy, she thought wryly. Time to find a payphone and call a cab.
Liz veered to the left, where a row of payphones lined the wall. She dug some change out of her pocket and flipped through one of the chained down phone books. After she'd ordered a cab, she glanced around the darkened station.
She didn't see anyone around, but the hairs were standing up on the back of her neck. Every instinct she had was telling her she was in danger. She reached into her pocket again and pulled out her keys, prepared to use them as a weapon if she had to.
"Excuse me, Miss. Do you have any spare change?"
Liz whirled around to face the man who had spoken. He was an older man--probably in his late 40s or 50s, and was wearing raggedy, torn clothing and a pair of ratty tennis shoes. His face was almost completely covered by a wool scarf.
"Um, no, sorry," she answered, and moved away from him.
"You know, the problem with your generation is you're a bunch selfish, spoiled brats! Somebody oughtta teach you a lesson!"
Liz shuddered and backed away involuntarily, clutching her keys so tightly her knuckles turned white.
The man gave a low chuckle and pulled a sharp knife out of his coat and held it up for her to see. "You're very pretty," he told her as he moved closer.
Liz dropped her duffle bag and ran in the opposite direction as fast as she could. She could hear his footsteps behind her, coming closer...
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Angel glanced around the nearly-abandoned station. He heard footsteps--two sets--approaching and then a frightened scream.
He emerged from the shadows and stepped between the girl and the man chasing her with a knife, positioning himself so he was facing the man. Upon seeing Angel, the man stopped his chase abruptly and stared at him.
"Don't you know it's not safe to run with knives?" Angel asked, narrowing his eyes and glaring at the man.
The man stared back, but only for another moment. Then he dropped the knife to the ground with a clatter and turned around and ran in the opposite direction.
Angel frowned, stooped down, picked up the knife, and tossed it into the nearest trash can. The girl was staring at him in surprise. "Are you okay?" he asked.
"Yeah, thank you."
He nodded. "You shouldn't be out walking alone at night in this city. It's not safe."
"I know. I'm waiting. For a taxi."
"I'll wait with you."
He watched her brown eyes widen slightly and she brushed a strand of her dark hair behind her ear. He couldn't help but think the girl looked a little like Cordelia. "Okay. I...dropped my bag," she told him as she moved by him cautiously.
Angel paused, puzzled by the emotions he sensed from her. Not fear or even anxiety, but a wariness towards him. A wariness that was very uncommon from a girl her age. She couldn't be more than 17.
He watched as she picked up her bag and glanced at him. "Are you...a cop?" she asked hesitantly.
He shook his head and wondered if she was a runaway. Then he realized her wariness hadn't subsided or grown by his admission. "No, actually, I was just out for a walk."
"It's not safe to walk alone after dark in this city," she told him, and he couldn't stifle the urge to smile a bit.
"No, it's not. But I'm not a target."
The girl raised an eyebrow. "Women aren't the only ones who can get mugged, you know."
Angel agreed. "However, there are circumstances that supercede my situation."
"So if you're not a cop, then--?" Her voice held a slight touch of suspicion.
It was Angel's turn to hesitate. He wasn't very good at making conversation or telling people about his work. He remembered his vow to Cordelia a few weeks ago. 'I'll try harder,' he'd said.
"I help people that are in trouble," he told her.
She frowned. "But you're not a cop."
"No." He fumbled for the words. "I'm sort of--an investigator." He pulled out one of the business cards from his pocket and handed it to her.
She looked down at it and then back up at him, an unreadable expression on her face.
"People come to us for help when they don't feel like they can go to the police." She nodded and started to hand the card back, but he shook his head. "Why don't you keep it?" he said quietly as his eyes met hers.
She held his gaze for a moment and then slipped the card into her jean's pocket. "Who are you?" she asked as the taxi pulled up.
"Angel."
"Hey, Miss, you order a cab?" the driver asked, leaning over and peering out the open window.
She blinked. "Yeah." She opened the door, tossed her bag inside and looked at Angel. "Thank you for your help."
Angel nodded and watched as she slipped inside the cab and was driven away. "Who are *you*?" he wondered aloud, staring at the tail lights as they disappeared around the corner.
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Nasedo watched him from across the street, his eyes flashing from the intensity of his glare. Liz Parker should have been eliminated by now, but because of him she wasn't.
Yet.
Nasedo wasn't sure who the man was exactly, but he knew he wasn't human. He wasn't an alien, either.
It didn't really matter. If he had to, he'd kill him along with the Parker girl. He just had to make the deaths look like random acts of violence. No sense in alerting other aliens--especially Max Evans--by using his powers to kill them. He didn't want anyone to suspect him when he was supposed to assist in the upcoming battles.
But with the Parker girl out of the way, Max would have no reason not to accept his destiny and lead the revolution.
And then Nasedo could finally return home.
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"You were *what*?"
Liz winced and held the phone away from her ear for a second before returning it. "I'm okay, Maria. Really. I promise."
"God, Liz. Did you go to the police?" Alex asked in concern.
She shifted so her legs were propped up beside her on the hotel room bed. "No. I sort of didn't have to."
"But I thought you said you got mugged," Maria protested.
"I said almost mugged."
"Liz, how did you get away?" Alex questioned.
She pulled the business card out of her pocket and looked at it. "There was a guy there. He...saved me."
"What guy?" Maria asked immediately.
"I don't know exactly." She hesitated. No need in making everyone paranoid about a P.I. saving her. Besides, in the past year she'd developed this odd ability to sense danger, and while the guy hadn't seemed normal exactly, he didn't seem dangerous, either. At least, not dangerous to her. "He just said he was out walking."
"A likely story," Maria snorted.
Liz could imagine her sitting lotus-style on Alex's bed, brows furrowed in worry, probably convinced that the man was an alien hunter of some sort. "He was okay, Maria."
"How did he save you?" Alex asked.
"He stepped in between me and the mugger. And when the mugger saw him, he dropped the knife and took off."
"Knife? There was a knife?" Maria shrieked.
"Oh, my God, Liz," Alex muttered.
Liz cringed. She hadn't meant to tell them that part.
"Where's my cedar oil?" Maria demanded and Liz could hear her dumping out the contents of her purse.
"Guys, it's okay. I'm fine."
"Liz, you should come home," Maria argued.
"I can't," Liz said softly, an image of Max kissing Tess flashing into her mind, and bringing involuntary tears to her eyes. Get over it, they were destined to be together, she told herself.
"But it's so much safter here, Lizzie. I mean, people don't run around town chasing other people with knives!"
"No, they just shoot innocent bystanders in crowded cafes when they argue," Liz replied wryly, remembering the day that she had been shot, the day that had changed everything...
There was a moment of silence.
"So this guy who saved you. Did he have a name?"
"Angel," she answered, glancing down at the card in her hand and staring at the angel design on it.
"That was his name? Or do you mean, like, guardian?" Maria asked.
Liz blinked, considered it, then answered softly, "You know, I'm really not sure."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Wesley handed Cordelia a cup of coffee.
"Thanks," she mumbled. She was lying on the 2-seat sofa in the new Angel Investigations office, and staring at the clock, which now read 11:21.
Wesley was pretty sure she hadn't blinked in a half hour.
"He'll be okay, Cordelia," he told her quietly as he sat down on the edge of his desk.
She shifted her gaze to his face. "Of course he will be. He's Angel," she said, her words harsher than the expression in her eyes.
Wesley took no offense by her tone. Angel had been gone for nearly three hours, and he was getting a bit worried, too. He sipped his own coffee and studied her from the corner of his eye. The color had returned to her face and she was no longer holding her head. Apparently the pain killers had finally kicked in and helped lessen her headache from the vision.
He and Angel had discussed the possible reprecussions of Vocah's mental attack on Cordelia. The demon, in an attempt to cut off Angel's connections to the Powers That Be, had left a mark on her than forced her mind open to receive visions of all the people who were hurt or in trouble in the world. She had collapsed, screaming from the pain of the endless visions, and had been sent to the neuro-psych ward of the local hospital. The only way the visions could be stopped was to read the words of Anatole from the Sacred Scroll. Unfortunately, after marking Cordelia, Vocah had stolen the scroll from Angel and blown up the original Angel Investigations office--with Wesley in it.
Angel, of course, had saved him from a fiery death, and had battled Vocah for the scroll. In the process, it had been grabbed by Lindsey McDonald, a lawyer who worked for Wolfram and Hart, a demon defending agency that they'd had several encounters with. After killing Vocah, Angel had tried to convince Lindsey to give him the scroll, but the man had held it over an open flame instead, forcing Angel to cut off Lindsey's hand to keep him from burning the the only thing that could save Cordelia's life.
He and Angel had worried about what possible lingering effects the demon's mind attack could have on her. They weren't even sure if she would continue to get the visions, or if she did, if they would be harsher than they previously had been.
Wesley knew that when the vision had come to Cordelia tonight, the first one she'd had since the attack, he and Angel had both been frightened. Especially since there wasn't really anything they could do had something gone wrong.
At that moment, the door opened and Angel walked inside, covered in dirt, dust and blood. He and Cordelia both jumped to their feet.
Angel shook his head quickly. "It's not my blood," he told them.
"I know that," Cordelia said, rolling her eyes. Wesley noticed that her stance relaxed slightly and most of the worry left her face. "What *did* happen?"
"Pack of vampires. Not happy ones."
"Don't know many that are," she muttered.
"How many's a pack?" Wesley asked.
"Eight."
He frowned. "All travelling together?"
"Apparently."
Cordelia sighed. "Which means--?"
Angel looked at her. "That they're up to no good."
"Well, at least we're back in business," she said, trying to sound cheerful.
"What about the girl at the train station?" Wesley asked.
"Safe. Although..."
"What?"
"Something was off about the whole situation."
"Off how, exactly?" Wesley grabbed a pen and notepad, ready to take notes.
"The guy that was chasing her, for one."
"Vampire?"
"No."
"Demon?" Cordelia suggested.
"I don't know. Maybe. But he definitely wasn't human."
"Why is that strange? Most of the people in this city *aren't* human," she pointed out.
"Yeah, but this was different. He was chasing her with a knife. Demons and vampires don't tend to use weapons to kill their victims."
"What do you think we're dealing with?" Wesley asked him, frowning.
"I don't know," Angel admitted. "But I'm pretty sure this is something different. Something none of us has ever dealt with before."
Cordelia edged away from the door a bit. "And whatever it is, it's still out there somewhere."
Wesley recognized a touch of fear in her voice. Not a lot, and not noticable to anyone who didn't really know her, but it was there all the same, no matter how minute it was.
Angel noticed it, too. "Research at Cordy's apartment?" he suggested nonchalantly.
Wesley nodded in agreement and noticed that she seemed relieved to have company.
"I'll drive," Angel volunteered.
