Lex stared at her for a moment, and then turned on his heel. He left, silently, somehow managing to restrain himself from slamming the door shut.

"What did you say that for?" Xander asked when he was gone. "You could—we could… there are better ways, Anya!"

"He didn't even speak to me," Dawn said, whiny. "He was all Xander this, Xander that."

"Yeah," Anya said. "That's weird. Is he evil, do you think?"

"No!" Xander cried. "He's not evil. He's just… Lex! He spoke to me because I was the one who saved him from the vampire. What's weird about that?"

"You saved him from a vampire?" Dawn asked. "When was that?"

"A while back. It was nothing. We need to go and help Buffy."

• * *

Some weeks passed. A girl committed suicide and made the front page; Lex noted that she was about his own age, but didn't manage to remember her name. Mysterious helicopters flew over Sunnydale; Lex knew they weren't his, and couldn't prove that they belonged to his father, so he chalked them up to the army doing something odd. The building plans were stalled for a while by combined funding problems and wet weather; Lex put everything from his mind except the plant.

He sat in the castle, in the big study, trying to finish checking through the report he had to present to the board. It was boring, and that made it hard to concentrate on.

Once too often, he made some stupid slip.

He shut the laptop, picked up the keys for the Ferrari, and went out for a drive. Anything was better than report writing, even driving in the rain. Especially driving in the rain.

• * *

Frightened by the visions the demon had given him, Xander ran out into the pouring rain, heedless of his suit getting soaked through—images in his mind; Anya upset, hurt; her words… don't come near me… bitter old man… ugly, stupid, useless… he had to get away from that. He had to stop it.

• * *

Lex drove down the hill and through the edges of the town, avoiding busy places, trying to get to the open freeway.

The bend came up fast—too fast—and he braked late; the tires slipped on the wet road.

Xander was running still, feet pounding the road surface—no pavement here, it was just far enough out of town for that, into the land of big estates, turning into fields—round the corner he knew so well and… into a silver bonnet.

He barely saw the car before it hit him.

• * *

A body.

Lying, broken, soaked, on the tarmac, the body of Xander Harris.

Lex left the car where it had stopped—nose poked into the hedge of some huge garden, probably mangled in some other way—and dashed to the body, calling.

"Xander? Xander, are you alright? Can you hear me?"

No response.

• * *

Kneeling by his side, Lex checked Xander's vital signs. There was a pulse, but it was weak. His breathing was shallow and erratic. For the first time in ages, Lex realised that he was close to panic.

Cell phone. He had to have one in the car… but he didn't want to leave Xander.

He thought about screaming, but it would be lost in the wind and the rain. They were out of town, on a quiet road; they wouldn't be heard. The cell phone was his only hope.

Running again, almost before he had thought it through, and rooting round the car. Not in the glove box. Not in the pockets on the door. Not in the… there. On the back seat.

Lex heaved a sigh of relief, dropped to his knees by Xander, and dialled.

• * *

After about an hour, the guests had gone home—some sad, some puzzled, some drunk, some apparently only annoyed at the waste of time.

Anya had left with D'Hoffren and Halfrek, telling Willow that she needed the company of her friends rather than Xander's.

Five hours after the wedding had been supposed to take place, Buffy, Willow, Tara, Dawn, and Clem—the only people left—gathered for a conference. "It's not like Xander not to let anyone know," Willow fretted.

Buffy nodded. "Something must be really wrong. We need to find him. I'll go round the town, check vampire haunts and things; Clem, you see if anyone in the demon world's seen him—maybe Anya's got enemys that would do something? Tara, can you go back to my house—and take Dawnie with you. He might go there, and if he doesn't, you can be a base for operations. Willow, we need to make sure he isn't in hospital or something."

"Okay," they agreed. Dawn opened her mouth to protest, but one glare from Buffy shut her up. This was serious; no time for whining.

• * *

The emergency room was busy, and Willow was glad she knew the layout well. She looked round, trying to spot and nurse she could ask…

Sick children, crying; two homeless men with matching broken legs; people shouting at the nursing staff on duty… no one she recognised at first glace. A bald man, dressed in smart black clothing, not shouting but clearly arguing with a doctor… she knew him. A few weeks ago, he'd been in the Magic Box, asking for Xander.

Xander. He might know something. If he didn't, he might help.

She headed towards him.

• * *

"I know I'm not his next of kin, doctor! Just… let me see him, okay?"

The doctor started to shake his head again when Willow walked up. "Hi, Lex," she said, sizing up the situation quickly. "Doctor—I'm here to see Xander Harris—I'm his sister. Can you tell me…"

"He's in ward three, up the stairs, second door on the left," the doctor replied, warmly, and then added, "err, this gentleman…"

"Can come up with me," Willow said. "I'm sure Xander will be pleased to see him."

She took Lex by the arm and they swept past the doctor, and into the stairwell.

• * *

"Miss Rosenburg, forgive me for asking, but where did you learn to lie like that?"

"Life," Willow said, simply. "Why are you here? What happened to Xander?"

"I… he was running, I guess. On the road. I came round the corner—maybe a little too fast…"

"You hit him?" Willow looked incredulous. "You were… in the car?"

Lex nodded. "The Ferrari."

That got him another hard stare. "My best friend since kindergarten is lying injured—by *you*—in a hospital bed, and you're telling me what sort of car you were driving? Okay, now I know why the world hates Luthors." She saw the sting of that in his eyes, and ignored it. "Let's go and see him."

. . .

TBC, as they say.

Wow.

That's just so much fun. I can't wait for more! (I really want to see Lex singing and dancing with his secretary. . .)

Thanks, sumi. (I tried to write something that might to justice to the musical scene, but... I can't. Between not being musical and being in a text-only medium, I decided the brief mention and people's imaginations would have to do it.)

There will be more, soon... I have to work through what the consequences of the accident are going to be; I need to know how things will develop in relation to canon s6's story arcs (particually, obviously, Willow's story), and how Xander and Anya will go in this AU (they'll break up, because part of the challenge is to write Lex/Xander slash, but it needs to be taken slow), and I need to decide how much Buffy and Spike's arcs will be affected by the changes. And when Lex gets let in on the secrets, and stuff.

Hum. Lots of thinking to do, though typing that seems to helped straighten it out some.

Would Lex perhaps wish to blackmail the Slayer if he caught her with Spike?

(Wouldn't a father - son duet between Lex and Lionel have been wonderful?)

{First round of edits (changing tense, quote tags, punctuation, some tightening) done. Still needs more.}

Enjoined, Chapter 1

Las Vegas, Nevada
An office supply warehouse
Saturday afternoon, June 7, 2003

The Nevada sun beat down on an ugly warehouse. It was nearly empty, save some detritus from a prior tenant. Florescent lighting never improves atmosphere. Two men led, and argued, as two women trailed about 20 feet behind, toward a 12'x12', dimly lit office. In it was a battered pine desk, stained a dark and depressing walnut hue, a similar chair, with a torn green vinyl seat cushion. On the desk was an old, heavy, black, rotary phone, and a coffee mug with something growing in it. Underneath the desk was a metal waste paper basket.

Xander turned, rolled his eyes in an exaggerated fashion, and in a stage whisper asked, "What are they going to do Giles, spy on our empty crates and wooden pallets?"

"Xander, we can't have cleaning people poking their noses around our facility."

As Xander opened the door, flicking on the light, roaches scattered to the shadows. "We have nothing to hide, but dirt itself. C'mon. Sunnydale had cleaner crypts."

Once the women caught up, Giles shut the office door behind them. The air in the office was stuffy--close. "Xander, if you don't mind, there is a certain protocol to establishing a cover, and I dare say it is an exercise in which I have years of experience. Given what we've just faced and hopefully defeated, but know we couldn't have completely defeated, we must take every precaution."

"Man--just a cleaning crew. Have a heart. Wil, what's that saying about mad dogs and Englishmen?"

Willow smiled in that tight way she used to, when talking to Cordelia in high school. "That's the spirit, boys. There's nothing as fun as listening to you two bicker in the heat of the day. Oh wait--the Hellmouth! That used to be just exactly this much fun, but we were able to close that gaping hole."

"Not again," said Buffy. "Willow, are they going to continue with these encores of Bitchy Boys Do Vegas until we applaud? What do ya say? Should we give them a hand? Oooh, how about a backhand? Guys, your severe case of cranky pants is harshing my mellow."

As Buffy spoke, Giles began to sit on the desk top. With a thud, four books appeared on the desk, to his right, seemingly out of nowhere. Giles missed the desk, landing on the floor.

Xander jumped. "Wait a whoa! That'll marsh your mallow."

Buffy was just as surprised, but less unnerved. "Do that again, Giles."

"I didn't do it the first time."

The three considered an oblivious Willow, as she stared out the dirty window. "What? Why are you staring? Do I have something in my teeth? I knew I shouldn't have had broccoli. Giles, get off of that floor! It's filthy. Xander's right; we need a cleaning service."

Giles rose and dusted himself off. "Willow, did you...erm...make those books appear on the desk?"

"Me? Huh? Where? Books? Oh! No. I wasn't even listening to you. You and Xander have been bickering since we left the motel. I've used my powers to the greater good and tuned you out. I was thinking toad, but in this dry heat...ewww."

"Well, something did it," said Xander. "Still, um... I'm not afraid of books."

"Not since you learned to light them afire with the spoken word."

"Buff, you're on a roll today. Share your power; up your humor. I like. Wise-ass."

"Takes one... And Giles, far be it from me to promote risky behavior, but shouldn't we dust them off and see what they are?"

"Oh dear, this can't be good."

"Giles, unless it's the latest Jennifer Cruise, that's my default reaction to books that show up outta nowhere. What are they?" Buffy opened the office door.

"They are...hmmm... The Tiberius Manifesto, The Pergamum Codex, The Devandiré Sibylline Codex--fantastic--it's an annotated Sanskrit to English Translation, and also, some old erm... compilation of sorts." Giles sat--successfully, this time--right on the compilation. "The Tiberius Manifesto, and The Pergamum Codex were lost ages ago, although Angel gave us Pergamum a few years back. These editions were previously housed in the Council's Headquarters--if I'm not mistaken."

Willow approached, eyes shining with interest, mouth pinched with skepticism. "Gee. Since Council HQ went splodey, Giles, don't ya think ya might be mistaken?"

"Well one would think that, if one merely found them on a desk. However, these seemed to have popped into being. Besides, the Council's Library insignia is stamped on the inside covers. Have a look."

(Chapter 1 continues in next post.)

(Enjoined, Chapter 1, cont'd)

As Willow examined three of the books, Buffy, clenching her fists--knuckles white--looked toward the book peeking out from under Giles' thigh. All trace of expression vanished from her face, but trickles of sweat streamed from her temples. "Okay. Look. We haven't even found our feet yet. I'm going to make some command decisions. And please, if I'm being too bossy, feel free to vote me off of this island, too."

Willow winced. "Sheesh. Kick a slayer out of her own house, just once..."

"I'm serious. Especially about the getting me outta here--I mean especially about making a command decision. It's hot. The A.C. isn't working. We're in the desert. We don't know what we're doing. Scary books are suddenly appearing. Giles hasn't yet located the necessary CoW Accounts..."

Giles squinted and cocked his head to the right. "Cow? How now?"

"C: Council, o: of, W: Watchers. That CoW, not the MOO!"

Willow smiled at that. "Aw. That reminds me of your mom. Remember--when Amy ratted herself?"

"Yeah. No. AAAaaaah! Stop. Listen. It's hot, have I mentioned that? Anyhow, Giles, you still have to get your hands on the Council's funds, to bankroll our new slayer location project. But Xander's right, there's nothing here. We get a cleaning crew. We let them do the work. Our cover, and hopefully rent-paying project, is going to be this office supply warehouse, right? That means we're going to actually have to open and run one, if it's going to work as a cover. Who wouldn't hire a cleaning crew? We'll call the realtor and get one from her, so that people know we're doing so. In the meantime, let's take these books and go back to the hotel."

"Motel." Xander leered, in a playful way. "I only mention it because I always wanted to take you to a motel. Always used to want to..."

Buffy rolled her eyes at him. "Let's go. Giles, I can carry those books for you. You've got some hefty volumes there."

"Uh...no thank you, Buffy. That's quite all right. I'm getting a bit slack. I've got it."

...

Chapter 2

Las Vegas, Nevada--outskirts The Twilight Time Motel Saturday afternoon, June 7, 2003

Her back to Dawn, Kennedy watched the sunset. "I just don't understand it at all. Demons, vamps, and thieves--fine, I get them. But magic gives me the willies."

"Wiggins."

"Pardon me?" Kennedy turned, eyebrows raised.

Dawn brightened. "Wiggins. The. Wiggins. A major wiggins. The wig. Just not 'willies' 'cause they give me a…wiggins."

"M'kay. Ya lost me."

"Guess you had to be there." Dawn sighed, and plopped on the bed.

"Well I wasn't. I am here, however. Asking."

"We have Willy issues. There have been too many 'Will' types. Billy Fordham, Willie the Snitch. Angel…"

"Angel?"

"Buffy's ex-boyfriend--vampire. You probably had to be there for that, too."

Kennedy raised her eyes, heavenward. "I was. Okay, I wasn't there, but I know that. Vamp with a soul, cursed by gypsies to walk the earth atoning for his evil deeds. Really, I've done my homework. But what does that have to do with whatever this is you're not explaining well?"

"His human name was Liam. Spike is also a William. Billy Fordham from L.A.--I said him already, didn't I? There were others there too, but I've tried to block them out. Oooh! Willow, but that might be stretching it."

"Dawn, I now know less than when I knew nothing."

"We just don't say 'willies', we say 'wiggins'. It's a thing. Willies give us a wig."

Kennedy smirked. "Well kid, I hear ya there."

"What were you talking about before anyhow, witchcraft ... wiggins?"

"Yeah--witchcraft. Look, I don't want to cross-examine you for information on my girlfriend, unless you take 'cross-examine' to mean I totally want drag a lot of stuff out of you--stuff I can't ask her."

"Don't you think you should? Ask Willow, I mean."

"Well, you know Willow's at a really good place now where her power is concerned. I might seem as though I doubt her, when really, I'm confused. All this magic stuff is too out there for me."

"Well, if your questions don't require me to break Willow's confidence, I might be able to help, as long as there's no math involved."

"No math. I wouldn't dream of it. I don't understand the power jump, Dawn. One day, she can't make teeny tiny Tinkerbell lights heed her will, or she's accidentally blinding Giles--or so the stories go. Next, she's flying, flaying people, poofing in and out, all because she went to some crack--excuse me--magic dealer. Yet, he was sucking power from her? I don't get it."

"You have done your homework. I've got a theory, but nobody's ever bought into it. It's the little sister gig--cursed by gypsies, or possibly the monks that made me, to walk the earth knowing everything, but never being believed."

"I can't guarantee I'll buy your theory, but I am willing to take it for a test drive."

Dawn wandered to the window. "Kennedy, it's long, and takes a lot of explaining and you sort of..."

"If you tell me one more time, that I 'had to be there', I'm going to start honing my newly acquired slayer skills."

"Eeek! Okay, but it looks like the gang is back. Want to table this 'til the next time they leave us out?"

...

(chapter 2 cont'd in next post)

(Enjoined, Chapter 2, cont'd)

Xander opened the door for Buffy, Willow, and Giles. Looking hot and tired, Buffy threw herself down on one bed, Willow did the same on the other. Dawn, seeing Giles' arms full of books said, "Neat. Did you pack them in the school bus before the battle?"

"Um...yes. Dawn, I...what you..." Giles walked directly to the closet, stuck the books on the upper shelf, and almost slammed the door.

Kennedy lied down next to Willow, who quickly sat up. Xander looked around uncertainly, and ended up leaning against the dresser.

"Giles," said Buffy, "Why are you lying? Knowledge is power. Share the power. Share the...um...knowledge."

"I don't..."

Dawn joined her sister on the bed. "S'okay Giles, I'm used to it, and Kennedy had better get used to it."

"Dawn. It's not okay. We want to...Giles...I...are you okay? You look pale."

"Buffy, I mean it. I have no idea why I...We...in the car... Dawn and Kennedy about... And yet I... Even now, I..."

Willow stood. "Giles, it was hot in that warehouse. Have some water, and take off your shirt."

"I will not take off my shirt in a room full of...young wom...well, that's not entirely true, but I refuse to take off my shirt in front of you people. Water sounds like an excellent idea, until Xander goes out to the car and gets some brandy out of the boot."

"Giles, if you're hiding liquor in footwear, I'm fast approaching the solution of the mystery of your weirdness."

Buffy bolted off the bed, gesturing wildly. "Boot. Trunk. He means it's in the trunk of the car. Get the brandy out of the car trunk, please Xander, and no puns."

Willow placed her hand to Giles forehead. "Wait. Giles, water you can have. If this was the heat, alcohol is no-no. Xander, go to the office and ask the desk clerk where to buy some fresh fruit. Oranges would be great because of the potassium. And bananas! And get some pretzels or something else salty, and some Gatorade, too."

"I'll be back before you miss me, and before Willow finishes dictating the shopping list."

Giles jerked his head away from Willow's hand. "Xander wait. Considering what... I don't... not the heat. We've been in an air-conditioned car. Give me a few moments, please, if you don't mind."

"Giles, I don't know what's wrong with you, but you're giving me a heart attack; drink the water, and I'll go get the brandy."

Willow donned her resolve face. "A big 'yes' to the water. A big 'no' to the spirits, not until we're sure, at least. Besides, the brandy must be too warm." said Willow.

Buffy paced. "I am getting a wiggins, a major wiggins. Kennedy, hand me those books."

Giles rose from the tacky orange chair, as if it were burning. "NO!"

Buffy raised her eyebrows at him. Kennedy, who had bristled under Buffy's command in Sunnydale, had already gotten the books. All eyes were on Giles, who had backed away from the girls, and as if he were expecting fraternal support, stood near Xander.

With a metallic tinkle, jewelry landed on the dresser, between the men.

The third book slid out of Kennedy's hand. "Whoa! Those weren't there before, were they?"

"I didn't do that, either," said Willow. "Dawn, are your fingers still sticky?"

Dawn took in the collection of jewelry, mouth agape. "No. Hey! No. I didn't take anything. At least a couple of those things should be..."

"Gone..." Buffy's voice was barely audible. "They should be gone."

Xander was ashen. "At the warehouse, the books just appeared. We were talking about nothing one minute, and the next minute, it was raining books."

"Books that should be gone, but now are back," said Buffy, still whispering.

"It's not the heat that's got me, unless it's got us all. With this jewelry appearing or reappearing, as it were, and the..."

"Books..." Xander shouted.

Buffy narrowed her eyes. "Books... Talk about the books Giles. Tell us the titles again."

Giles, looking helpless, stared at Buffy, but only said, "Willow, warm brandy is nice." The six looked at one another, then the jewelry, then the books, over and over, as if they were watching a three-way Ping Pong game.

"Okay, I can't take the silence. Giles, can you talk about the jewelry?"

"Amulet, amulet, ring, necklace! I can talk about the jewelry. I can talk about the bloody jewelry. Oh. Intriguing jewelry."

Kennedy shuddered. "I'm freaked. What's the story on the jewelry? What is it?"

"Well," said Giles, reveling in ability to participate, "this amulet belonged to Sweet. Almost two years ago, Dawn summoned Sweet to Sunnydale."

"I. DID. NOT! It was Xander."

"Oh, right. You stole the amulet after Xander summoned Sweet to Sunnydale. Sweet enchanted the entire town. Everywhere, people were singing out their innermost feelings."

"His name was Sweet?" asked Buffy.

"Yes, I did some research after you di...when I brought Willow to Bath."

Kennedy probed no further. The groaning of the cheap, rattling motel air conditioner overtook the room.

Dawn finally spoke. "Well, Sweet wasn't so very. Eventually, people ran out of reasons to sing, and would dance until they burned. We almost lost Buffy, 'til Spike…"

"...gave me something to sing about." Buffy seemed intent on studying her sandals.

Dawn looked sadly at her sister. "Anyhow, in addition to Sweet's amulet, that piece with the center stone is Anya's amulet, from when she was a Vengeance Demon. Angel gave Buffy a Claddagh ring; I'm assuming that one, right before he lost his soul. I don't know what the other... Hey! Weren't there four pieces?"

Willow and Kennedy answered, "Yes," simultaneously.

(chapter two cont'd in next post)

Blackmail... there's an idea.

Actually, that's a good idea. Lex meets Spike-- finds out that he knows Buffy (and oh, boy, how he knows Buffy, in that good old Biblical sense)-- and puts it together. She's the Slayer; she's hiding something from her friends; she can be blackmailed. Blackmailed into doing what, though? Helping Lex somehow... helping him-- with the business? with Xander?

(Yes, it would. Oh, Goddess, I think I may die laughing at that image. starts filking to the tune of 'I'll Never Tell'

He's bald.

He's evil.

duct tapes own mouth shut

It would make an interesting counterpoint to Giles' words to Buffy, too: "wish I could play the father...")

(Enjoined, Chapter 2, cont'd)

Buffy finally met the eyes of her friends. "Giles, cough it up."

"Pardon, cough up what? How should I know where the fourth piece got to?"

"Well, can you tell me where the fourth book got to?"

"I don't know where the fourth piece of jewelry is, Buffy."

"I didn't ask you that, Giles."

Willow gestured for them to calm down. "Buffy, I don't think Giles can tell you anything about the books. But there were four books, and now there are three."

"I'll check the car, and get the brandy out of the trunk." Before his words registered, Xander was gone, door slamming behind him.

Buffy had been on her hands and knees searching the floor around the dresser. Rising, she looked first to the door, and then to the group. "The person nearest the jewelry was Xander. Willow, go outside now. Make sure he's not losing it somewhere."

"Buffy, Xander would never... Scratch that. Giles would never, either."

Willow rushed out into the twilight, and the Twilight Time Motel parking lot. Xander didn't seem to notice her. He shut the little door that covered the opening to the gas tank, retrieved a book from the roof of the car, and opened the trunk. Approaching silently, Willow opened the door Xander had just shut. Hanging from a little wire tied to a hinge, was the missing necklace. Seeing Willow, necklace in hand, Xander started to cry. His left eye now gone, tears only ran down his right cheek. Willow's face crumbled as she took this in.

"Xander, why did you take it?"

"I don't know, Willow. I had to get that necklace out of there."

"Xander, you can talk about the necklace. Let's bring it, and the book inside. Dry your ey...your cheek...tears. We're going to take care of this. Leave the brandy in the boo...trunk."

...

Chapter 3

Los Angeles, California Wolfram and Hart Head Quarters Angel Investigation Suite, Occult Library Saturday, June 7, 2003

Wesley sat in the fantastical Library.

"I'll never take this for granted. I'll never trust it, but I'll never take it for granted."

A grinning Angel, who had been lurking in the doorway, entered. "Talking to yourself, Wes?"

"Quite. Angel, I'm almost as concerned that we took this opportunity as I would be if we hadn't."

"That's how I feel. I think it was."

Wesley's wrinked his nose at that last comment. Angel opened his mouth as if to say more--as if to explain--but then shut it.

Wesley generously broke the awkward pause. "Damned if we do, damned if we don't."

"Something like that. Anyhow, how do you like this set-up?"

"Oh dear, it's... I lack the adjectives, and other modifiers, for that matter. Pick a text, any text."

"Hmmm, let's see The Pergamum Codex."

"Angel, I'm impressed. I've always known you were well read, but The Pergamum Codex disappeared ages ago. I can only hope it's available through this device. Let's check. It is a fascinating text."

"I had it."

"You had Pergamum? Dear Lord, what a risk--that Codex so close to Angelus."

"I got it from a friend, or enemy, ages ago. We saved Buffy's life with it once. Well, that's not true. Actually, it got her killed. Xander revived her. She then slayed the Master, and um..." Angel smiled a far-away smile. "Then, we partied."

"You've quite a connection there, the two of you. How was she when you were in Sunnydale?"

"Well other than fighting the most recent of a long line of apocalypse attempts, she was... Apparently, Buffy--she's half-baked."

Wesley, who had been attempting to swallow a mouthful of single malt Scotch, choked, snorted and ended up expelling it through his nose, right onto the W&H book template.

"Now, now Angel... She's a bright girl, truly. She's more intuitive than academic, but it works for her."

"Those were her words, not mine. She described herself as 'cookie dough'. And if all goes well, someday she'll be cookies and I can..."

Wesley choked again. "Angel, are you trying to make me take the temperance pledge? That's the second mouthful of Scotch I've wasted, and it's 12 year old single malt. If you finish that sentence... I can't. Sorry. I still see a school girl."

"She's 22 now, and has been sleeping with Spike."

"Spike? Spike--Spike? William the Bloody, paramour of Drusilla, protégé of… Oh. Protégé of you. And this is what brought about her latest apocalypse?"

"Heh. Oddly enough, it isn't. Or... I don't know. He's got a soul now, too. Wannabe."

"A soul. The thot plickens."

"Wes, considering Darla and I..." Angel paused, as if to choose his words carefully. "I... She was sweet. She was honest. And man, she was kicking evil ass. She was Buffy. And I...I can't do this right now. I've had enough--enough loss, enough navel gazing--enough."

"Right," said Wesley, intrigued, but patient.

They forgot about Pergamum.

...