"I always have trouble saying their name," said Dawn. "Renraw. Feels like my mouth is full of peanut butter."

"I keep wanting to say 'Redrum' instead of the right word," Andrew agreed. "It sounds really similar. Renraw! Renraw!"

"Guys?" Angel shot them a look over his shoulder, then went back to the open file in front of him. Gunn was sitting at a table near the window with various papers spread out in front of him, the last of the afternoon sunlight making the paperwork glow a dingy orange.

"Sorry, " Dawn murmured, going back to her book, while Andrew re-buried his head in another.

Angel had his team (and Andrew) working on research duty since they had recovered from their celebrity experience. Andrew had already called Giles about the "Renraw" name, but the Council's few remaining records were just as unhelpful as he'd expected. Dawn had "googled" the term; Angel wasn't sure when a web site name had become a verb, but it was as good of a place to start as any. Both leads that site had generated - a race horse named Lord Renraw who was around in the late 1950s and some internet journal (Dawn called it a "blog") writer from Spain who did movie and music reviews - turned out to be dead ends. So much for modern technology.

Now, they were concentrating on two fronts: book research, which Dawn was actively coordinating, and pounding the pavement, which was all about him. Angel glanced outside at the disappearing sunlight. It was getting close to time for him to switch gears over to that.

"Yes!" Dawn yelled, throwing her arms into the air. "Finally!"

"Got something?" Angel closed the file he'd been reviewing and swiveled his chair around to face her.

"Here!" Dawn turned the book around to show Angel. "Found a Renraw mention. It's not much, but at this point, I'll take anything."

Angel read the sentence aloud. "'The room was believed to have been used by the Brotherhood of Renraw, as it was near their most sacred ground. Therefore, it had been soiled and no longer fit for our holy use.' Interesting. What book is that?"

"It's that one by the guy who ran a demon priest training center in Los Angeles. The book that talks about all those old buildings? That one."

"Their most sacred place was up in L.A.? That doesn't make sense if they're here. What would they be doing outside of the city?"

Dawn shrugged. "Doesn't say. But I was wondering, is there's any possibility that 'Brotherhood' equals 'monks-hood' somehow? They were messing with people's brains."

"It could. Technically, 'Brotherhood' could mean a lot of things. Could be religious, could be fraternal; just about any fellowship could qualify, really. Even unions use that term."

Gunn smirked. "Right. The big Hollywood celebrity-making machine union was just lookin' to make some extra bucks with that."

Angel ignored him. "But they talk about 'sacred ground' in that passage, so this is religious. We're dealing with some kind of cult here."

"The one that killed Julia." Dawn's face always changed a little when they talked about her first case.

"There has to be a connection other than the symbol we found, but it's not showing up. Not yet." Angel surveyed the table. "Do you have her case file?"

"It's in the other room. I was reading over it again yesterday. I'll go get it."

Angel stared into space as Dawn left the room. "Is it possible that the sacrifice was in some way a component of the spell that hit us?"

"I don't think so. That's not how it works usually," answered Andrew.

Gunn looked up sharply. "You got some experience with these fame spell deals?"

Andrew shrugged. "I don't know a lot. I used to be more into studying demons. But I had a friend who knew how to do a spell that was kinda like that. He cast it on himself once, but it didn't go too well. He told me about it, though."

"And was he into sacrificing people?"

"No. He wasn't like that." Andrew looked down at his book. "Besides, I've, um, learned that sacrifices are part of magicks that are a lot darker and more evil than his spell was."

Angel nodded, Drogyn's face flashing through his mind, but Gunn still looked unconvinced. "You sure you know what he had to do to make his hocus-pocus work?"

"My friend wasn't like that."

"They don't know about Jonathan, do they?" Dawn had returned and stood in the doorway, staring at Andrew.

Angel watched Andrew's face drain of color.

"So there I was, in a disgustingly good mood, Angel was humping Little Miss Evil, and Charlie Boy was taking a leak in every corner." Spike chuckled. "Now that was an interesting Halloween."

Finding the first of the season's Halloween candy at the store, Xander had picked up a bunch of candy goodness for Willow and swung by her apartment for some card-playing action. He didn't expect the bag of candy corn he'd kept for himself to cause Spike to launch into Halloween Story Time when he finally got home. The vampire had been sprawled in a chair when he'd walked in, waiting for sundown so he could clear out and do whatever he did out there. It was the pattern they'd established, and they hadn't had much resembling conversation since that complete disaster of a talk show attempt.

He wasn't sure if this was a roommate bygones thing or what, but whatever the cause was, Xander wasn't having any luck hiding the large piles of amusement Spike's story was causing. "And this demon you worked with, he had no clue that he was causing it all?"

"None. It was somewhat like what Red did to us all a few years back, but this was far more entertaining. With his sleep removed, his mind mojo exploded on us. Strange, really, because you wouldn't think party planning would be quite that stressful." Spike glanced out the window at the still-present sunshine. "I wonder what he's up to these days?"

"Mr. Mind Mojo Guy? What did you say his name was? Lorne?"

"Yeah. Nice fellow. Could pour a hell of a drink when he got the chance."

"And he was one of the guys that Angel brought with him into that law firm of nefariousness, right? One of the good guys?"

"More than some." At Xander's questioning glance, Spike shrugged. "Not important. He took off after his part of the plan to destroy that bloody Circle. We think he made it, but he's off doing his own thing now. Best of luck to 'im, I say."

"Why? If he was such a good guy, why didn't he stick around?"

Spike stared at him levelly and then shook his head. "Angel's plan, Angel's story to tell. 'Sides, I already went. Your turn."

"My turn?"

"You must have all sorts of African misadventures to tell."

"Not like you'd think. It was a lot of time on the road, staying unlost and hoping to not get arrested or occasionally shot at. Not the stuff of wacky anecdotes." Xander paused, thinking. "The crocodile pond kinda qualifies, I guess."

"Don't tell me you did some kind of Croc Hunter act, or I might have to finally kill you. Bugs the hell out of me, he does."

"Please. That guy's got a death-wish. No, here's what happened. I'd been sent to Ghana, but the report from the Council turned out to be a big dead end. I had a little down time, so I wandered around. Found this place called Kaga, and I met a couple of guys there. Brothers. Nice enough guys. Anyway, they owned this pond that was full of crocodiles, and I mean huge ones. They'd turned into a tourism sort of thing, taking tourists out to their pond and then letting them feed chickens to the crocodiles."

"Hold on. You mean the chickens were alive and flapping?"

"Nope, the dead and plucked kind."

"Damn. It was sounding interesting enough to check out myself."

"Wait. It gets better. I met these guys when I was trying the master the whole drink-in-a-bag thing they do in West Africa, and it's not easy like the Capri Sun thing is. No pointy-ended straws. They probably decided that giving me the grand tour was some kind of act of mercy so I wouldn't die of thirst or something. So I hung out with them for a few days while I waited for new Council orders. Fed the crocodiles, wandered around their property, and just generally hung out. So, this one night, we were drinking this stuff they called 'akpeteshie' and getting close to plastered, and they told me about this new idea they had for the pond: Crocodile Rides."

Spike blinked. "Going for the truly stupid tourists, weren't they?"

"Is there any other kind?"

"Point."

"So their plan was to give the tourist a chicken, bring them out to the crocodile area, and give the chicken to the croc while the tourist got on. Their bright idea was that the crocodile would paddle off as it chowed down, and the tourist would get off the crocodile before it finished chomping."

"Were they completely daft? What if the croc was far from land when it finished its snack?"

"That's what I asked. So they got real quiet for a minute, then one of them - completely serious - said, 'Perhaps we give them two chickens.'"

Spike barked out a laugh. "He must have been joking!"

"No, swear to god, he was completely serious. Drunk, but serious. They even offered to let me take the test drive."

"And did you?"

"Do I look that stupid?" As Spike opened his mouth, Xander cut him off. "Don't answer that."

"Barely worth the effort when you make it that easy."

"Try to get over your disappointment." Xander shrugged. "There's another story from Ghana, this place called Ankasa Forest, but I think Andrew's the only one who'll appreciate that one. Whole place looked like the Ewok village.

Spike grimaced. "Idiotic walking teddy bears. Made no sense, that."

"No argument here."

Angel turned to Dawn. "Jonathan who?"

"He went to school with Buffy, Willow, and Xander," Dawn answered. "My fake memories include a part where he did a spell to make him super-special, but that part's fuzzy."

"Was he some kind of sorcerer?" asked Gunn.

"Not like Willow-strong, but he was the magicks person of your team, right?" Dawn addressed Andrew with the question.

"Yeah. He was actually pretty good." Andrew squirmed in his chair. "He could do stuff with manipulating time and everything.

Gunn looked between Andrew and Dawn. "Wait. Team? What kind of team? Messing with time? You feeling like backing up here?"

"I used to be evil," Andrew said. "Me and my friends became like the Legion of Doom. But I've turned away from that and work for the Watcher's Council. I am an arm of the Force of Good now."

"And your buddies?" Gunn pressed. "Are they walking the straight and narrow like you these days?"

"One of them killed Tara. Willow killed him." Dawn's expression turned hard. "The guy had it coming."

Angel nodded. "I heard about that. But that was somebody with a different name."

"Warren. He did that." Andrew glanced at Dawn. "Do we have to talk about this? Giles doesn't even bring it up any more. I'm not that person. I've changed. I'm reformed. I know that what I did was wrong and evil, but I'm redeemed now. The Council trusts me."

"Redemption doesn't get handed to you on a platter, Andrew." Angel crossed his arms. "Trust me on that one."

Gunn looked down. "He's right about that. Some things you keep paying for."

The room went quiet. Angel cleared his throat. "You were about to tell us what happened to this sorcerer friend of yours."

"He's not alive anymore either." Andrew stood up. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have Council business to attend to."

Angel turned to Dawn as the door shut. "What the hell just happened?"

"Better you find out from me before somebody else brings it up." Dawn sighed. "Andrew sacrificed that friend of his, Jonathan, to The First Evil."

"Andrew?" Gunn looked incredulous. "That kid killed a guy?"

"His best friend. He didn't know it was The First asking him to do it, but he still did what he did."

Angel nodded. "It can be extremely convincing. Almost got me once."

"He doesn't seem like the type to go all cold-blooded." Gunn still looked like he was processing this.

"He sorta got tricked into it, but it still was murder," Dawn explained. "I forget sometimes myself. I shouldn't, but I do. He's just been around us for a while, I guess, and he's been working really hard to help Giles. And I think he means it with the good-side thing."

"But he knew what he was doing when he killed that guy?" asked Gunn. "He had full knowledge that he was about kill his friend?"

"I'm pretty sure that he knew, but he doesn't talk about it much. He thought it was Warren's ghost telling him to do it, and that's really all I know as far as details. But he really is on our side now! He's been working hard for the Watcher's Council and everything."

"Wait. So then why does he act like he's holier-than-us all the time if he's got that kind of history?" Gunn asked.

"Overcompensation, I'm guessing." Angel turned to Dawn for her input.

Dawn nodded. "Maybe. Look, I know he can act a little, um, snooty and pompous sometimes, but he was being taught by a bunch of old-school, unretired Watchers for a year. Watchers who told him that you were evil. Well, we all thought you were, honestly, because of that law firm job. Anyway, he sort of soaked up their attitudes like a sponge."

"I'll keep that in mind." Angel stood up and reached for his coat. "Sun's down. I've got a couple sources to check in on. You two got this covered?"

"Got it, boss!" Dawn said cheerily.

"Good. I'll be back in a few hours."

Buffy kicked the door shut behind her, her arms full of shopping bags. "Did Xander already leave?"

"Yeah, he left about a half-hour ago. But look! Candy!"

"Ooh! Chocolate!" Buffy set the bags down and ran over to the bowl. "Yum! But I'd really hoped to talk to him."

"Something up?"

"No, it's just that I keep missing him when he comes by. I've developed this horrible sense of timing lately."

"S'okay. The one good thing that came out of this sickness problem is that he's actually here to hang out sometimes instead of with Illyria every minute. Heck, stick around tomorrow afternoon, and you'll get in on our big Uno plans."

"Uno, huh? Well, that fits me perfectly, doesn't it?" She flopped down on the couch next to Willow.

"Buffy, um, about that. What happened with the letter? Why didn't you tell us about The Immortal?"

"I was still processing it. Plus, you were sick, and Dawn's always at work with Angel, and I couldn't go over the Xander's because of, well, Spike... I was just waiting for a good time, I guess."

"The 'good time' was when you needed us. I wasn't too sick to listen... Well, okay, there was a little touch-and-go with the consciousness for a while. But you could have called Xander or Dawn and gotten them away from their respective vampires... Not that the vampires are theirs... You know what I mean."

Buffy grinned. "I sure hope I do."

"Anyway, you've got us all here. We're good at the listening and the being leaned on for support thing. Okay?"

"Yes, ma'am." Buffy stole a glance at Willow's laptop. "Whatcha working on?"

"Dawn just called. They found a mention of Renraw as some kind of cult thing with ties to Los Angeles."

"More evil from L.A.? There's a huge shock."

"I'm working on it, seeing if I can scare up more details. But I still feel weird, having Dawn play double agent for us and feed us information. Why do we still have to be all split up? They're researching Renraw, we're researching Renraw, so what can't we have a big research party with pizza?"

"Maybe. Let me think about it."

"Okay, well, while you're thinking, I'm close to getting into Los Angeles city records to search for anything Renraw-related. But if I find anything, do I have to be sneaky about it?"

"If we find something, I think all of us will want to give them a good pounding for what happened last week. I can be share-y."

"Until then, are you going to keep up the shopping therapy?" Willow waved at the bags that still sat by the door.

"Probably. I don't know what the status is of all my stuff I left in Rome. I kinda need more stuff. Besides, shopping? Fun!"

"At the rate you're going, you'll have a whole wardrobe here! Wait, is that the plan? Are you staying?"

Buffy sighed. "I've been thinking about that a lot. Dawn's here, and that's huge. The Immortal isn't a factor in my life anymore. And those were my reasons to be in Rome. Okay, that and the fabulous shoes. Now? I don't really have a reason to head back there."

"Ooh, that's sounding like a 'Yes indeedy, I'm staying!'"

"Sorta. I was thinking about getting my own place, though. If that's okay, I mean. I love you guys, but Dawn's about to start her classes, and I think I'm already crowding her."

"You might be. Just a little. So yeah, that's probably a good idea. But I'll miss having you here!"

"I'll still be around all the time. Unless some other god-king comes along to distract me like how Xander's been distracted by playing tour guide for Her Blueness, you're stuck with constant visitation. Besides, you need to play double agent for me."

"Why? Oh, wait, Dawn?" Willow shook her head. "Nope, you're out of luck there. I'm not going to rat out my roommate. That leads to badness."

"Please?"

"No way, no how. Unless something goes super bad. Then, maybe."

"That's a doable plan."

"Are you prepared, Lord Prefect?"

"I think I am." Nivel took a deep breath. "Thank you for coming by for this."

"Please. It's the least I could do."

"You've done so much already. I have you to thank for everything. You know that I would not be standing here now, readying myself to approach The Reborn One if it weren't for you. You gave me hope. Our organization would have fallen apart after my son's death were it not for you."

"My actions are all rooted in my desire to serve The Reborn One. If I can be of any assistance during this momentous time, do not hesitate to call me. Nothing is more important to me at this moment than your success."

"You are the truest of the servants, my friend." Nivel clasped the man's hand. "Although I will be stepping into my son's rightful place, there are times I feel that the honor should be yours."

"Nonsense! I am content in my role, and I rejoice in your ascendancy. Besides, I wouldn't dream of interfering with what is now a family tradition."

"Nevertheless, we all have you to thank for what is about to take place." Nivel took a deep breath. "I must begin my meditation in preparation for the dawn. By sunrise, The Reborn One will know that servants await that glorious destiny to finally be fulfilled."

They shook hands again before Nivel exited the room.

"Yes," Ethan murmured to the closed door, "You will indeed have me to thank for what is about to happen."

Monitoring the sky for the appropriate celestial pattern that coincided with what humans called 10:00 p.m., Illyria gazed at the harbor before her. Vessels both large and small traversed the waters, their minuscule lights vainly twinkling to announce their paltry presence.

Xander had brought her this viewing location almost a full lunar cycle prior. Illyria was still becoming accustomed to calling him by this term instead of his full name. There was a time in which she referred to all lesser creatures solely according to their function, such as the Qwa'ha Xahn. Wesley had taught her that in the millennial between her existences, lesser creatures had taken upon themselves an honor once reserved for those with power: names. He had begun that explanation with the name of the shell. Winifred Burkle. In the time since, Alexander - Xander - had expanded upon this topic, explaining that many people used alternate terms called "Nick Names" in order to refer to creatures with whom they were familiar. Some of the "Nick Names" he used were longer than the appropriate names. Illyria found this to be confusing and highly inefficient.

Much of the questionable logic of this world continued to confound, although the lessons of Wesley rang true repeatedly. One phrase Wesley had told to her remained especially so. There were indeed truths that she could not bear.

It was only in these moments between actions that truth reasserted itself in her consciousness. She was condemned to live out existence in a vessel incapable of sustaining her true glory. She was superior, and yet she remained tied to this community of bickering humans and half-breeds. She did so because she did not perceive a viable alternative option, and this dismayed her.

Illyria felt sickened when she realized that she had indeed been referring to herself according to the gender of the shell. She. Her. Female. Illyria transcended this concept. Using terms such as these lowered her closer to their level. She was their better. Wesley had affection for that aspect of the shell. She suspected other males had a positive reaction to her form as well.

This topic required further illumination. Despite the fact that the specified hour had not yet arrived for her next arranged meeting with Xander, she would travel to the domicile that he and Spike shared. Illyria found it convenient that two of the lesser creatures that she found least annoying shared the same living space. Perhaps she could get a corroborative opinion from the vampire.

This plan of action, she realized, was only a diversion for her. Many of her questions to Xander were regarding insignificant topics that were beneath her notice, although the insights into the psyches of lesser creatures were often more interesting than she cared to admit. However, they served to distract her from the primary concern.

She remained unsure of her place in this world.

Angel found Andrew around the corner looking at the new release posters at the video store. He walked up and stood next to Andrew, staring in the same window and at his lack of reflection.

"Dawn told you what I did." Andrew said it like he already knew.

"Yeah."

Andrew wouldn't look at him. "I'm not evil anymore."

"Didn't say you were."

"I'm redeemed." Andrew sounded mostly convinced, like he'd been saying that to himself repeatedly.

Angel knew better. "Nice try."

"What?"

"You think feeling remorse about something and doing some good deeds gives you a clean slate? It doesn't work that way."

"But--"

Let me finish. You took a human life, and you did so with free will. That stays on your soul. You can't clean it off, but you can keep trying to balance it out. Thing is, no matter how much good you do, that weight won't go away."

Andrew kept staring through the window, so Angel kept going. "I heard it was The First Evil."

"Yeah."

"I don't know if you heard, but it tried to make me do things, too. Long time ago. When I was still in Sunnydale, it almost convinced me to kill Buffy. I was close to killing myself. It's a powerful force. You should be glad that you survived."

"I guess."

"Look, I'm not any good at the sharing experiences concept," Angel said, "but here's the deal. I've done a lot of evil things. I've even done some of them when I've had my soul. I tried to kill a friend. I'm not proud of any of it. But I try to do good work. Save people. Keep striving for redemption. And I do it because it's the right thing to do. I'll keep doing it for the same reason. But that doesn't mean that I've been redeemed or that I ever will be. The redemption process doesn't have an end point and a diploma."

"But the Council said--"

"The Council has never had a decent grasp of reality. They are too mired in how they think the world should be in their narrow viewpoint, and the world never fits our expectations. We're the ones out here dealing with it. By the way, for the record? I'm not evil anymore. Really."

"Giles said you were."

"He didn't have the whole story." Angel turned to Andrew. "Seriously, do I seem evil to you?"

"Giles said you were," he repeated.

"That wasn't my question. I'm asking your opinion here."

Andrew didn't respond.

Angel paused. "Ask yourself a question: why are you working for the Council? Because you honestly want to make the world a better place, or are you atoning?"

Andrew hesitated for a moment. "Both, I guess, but..." He chewed on his lip.

"But what?" prompted Angel.

"I know if I'm working for them, I'm doing good, and if I'm doing good, I'm not doing evil." Andrew sighed. "I really don't want to do evil anymore, but I'm afraid I'll make the wrong choice. I know that won't happen if I'm working for the Council."

Angel shook his head. "You have to follow your own conscience, Andrew, not someone else's."

"What if mine's defective?"

"Then you find a way to fix it." Angel studied Andrew, who still wouldn't look him in the face. "I'll be honest. I don't trust the Watcher's Council. Haven't for a few years now. But I'll respect you as the Council's non-evil representative if you respect the non-evil work I'm trying to do here. Besides, we could use your help. Dawn's working too many hours for me already. It's not good for her."

"I can't officially help you. That would never be sanctioned by the Council."

"But you've been helping us out anyway?"

"I like to call it active observation."

"Semantics. Right." Angel almost laughed. "I can work with that."

"Work with what how?"

"Interested in actively observing me while I'm out tonight? Could use some back-up that you wouldn't actually be providing in any way."

"I think that the Council would be very interested in a first-hand observation of your methods." Andrew stuck out his hand. "Deal."

"Good." They shook on it.

"So..." began Andrew as he followed Angel down the sidewalk, "what are we - I mean you - doing tonight?"

"Evil," Angel answered, not breaking stride.

Andrew stopped.

Angel turned around. "I was kidding. I have a meeting with an informant about a possible Renraw lead."

"Cool." Andrew grinned. "Need me to get any weapons for this particular non-evil?"

"No."

Dawn kept glancing over at Gunn. He hadn't said much since Angel had left. He'd been pretty up since he'd conquered and smashed the evil computers that made them all famous, but he seemed to have a lot on his mind, too. They were in heavy research mode, but the quiet was almost more distracting than a little noise would be.

She finally gave up, closed her book, and went over to him. "What's up?"

"What's up where?"

"Funny. Seriously, you're all distracted. Do your vocal cords still work okay? I mean, you;re here, but you're not, y'know?"

Gunn looked up at her. "Truth? That's 'cause I'm not gonna be."

Dawn blinked. "What? You're leaving?"

"Not completely gone. I need my own place. It's long past time. Can take care of myself now. I'll still work here, because I'm wouldn't be leaving in the middle of something like this cult deal, but I'm movin' out of this place. Besides, me and Angel have never exactly been best buds, and even less so now. Guy doesn't think I can be of much help, even though I proved him wrong last week, and we're getting on each other's nerves all the time. I need to get out of his hair."

"Where would you go?"

"Already found a place. Nearer to the doctor's for my physical therapy sessions, not so far from here that I can't get to the office in an emergency, and no stairs, just in case. I get the keys next week."

"Does Angel know?"

"Not yet. And don't you be telling him. Not before I get a chance to."

"I won't. But, you're sure?"

"Sure as ever. I need to do this."

"Wow. This is huge."

"Just changing living space. Not all that huge. Good for me. Good all-around."

"No, it really is huge. Or it's just weird. I mean, you're the last one left from his old team. I've studied what I could find about the business you guys had in L.A., even though there isn't much paperwork about it. Still, all the stories I hear about and reports I've read talk about you, Cordelia, Wesley, Lorne, and Fred. Oh, and his old friend Doyle, too. Anyway, out of all of them, you're the only one still around."

"You forgot Illyria. She still comes by sometimes."

"She doesn't count." Dawn shuddered. "She still kinda creeps me out, especially after hearing so much about Fred. She's just a walking corpse. I don't know how Xander can stand hanging around her so much."

"She came through. When it counted. Have to give her props for that."

"Yeah, I guess."

"But you're right, I guess that I am the last of the old guard. Last guy standing, except for me not doing much standing these days. But things change. Good old days don't ever come back. We see things as they are and deal. I'm dealing by getting my own place and a little independence. It's right for the situation." Gunn looked around the room. "It's just time."

Dawn nodded. "I get that. Let me know if I can help at all. Plus, I'm a mean packer."

"Thanks."

Xander emerged from his room, buttoning up a shirt over his T-shirt, to find Spike intently focused on the television. "Still here?"

"Yeah. Nice to see your keen observation skilled haven't faltered."

"What's so fascinating on T.V. tonight?"

"Poker. Card-playing on television. Have you seen this? Far more fascinating than you'd think, even without kittens involved. Most reality television is complete rot, but I like this one. Even the celebrity version is passable."

"You like watching people play cards on television. How bored are you, exactly?"

"There's serious amounts of cash on the line here!"

"You can't just, I dunno, go and actually play cards yourself somewhere? I hear there's card rooms in town. Plus, there's the whole Indian casino gaming fun if you head out east a ways."

"Trying to get rid of me? What, you've got some sort of a hot date and I'd intrude?"

Xander glared at him.

"Sorry. Just pokin' fun."

"Uh-huh." Xander went back to buttoning up his shirt. "No, not trying to get rid of you. Stay, go, do whatever the hell you want. My only plan that's happening tonight is Illyria coming over. Last I saw her, she was asking about 'commerce' in general, so I figured that I'd take her down to the mall after it closed and show her how we shop for everything we really don't need."

"So it's a Blue Night."

"Pretty much."

"Strange that you've stayed so undamaged through all this chatting you do with her. Crazy bird went and caused a riot just so she could berate me and then all she does is stare me down and say, 'Never disregard me again, Spike.'"

"That's all she did?" asked Xander.

"Well, there was also the implication that the next incident would involve spinal rearrangement. That head tilt of hers speaks volumes."

"No joke. Weird how much gets said without a word or even anything resembling a facial expression with her.”

"Yeah." Spike turned the television to "mute" and turned to Xander. "Can I make an observation?"

"Could I stop you?"

"Not likely."

"Fine. Shoot."

"You spend an inordinate time around the overgrown bluebird. You're in the same town with your buddies, one of whom is still all sickly-like, and I'd say you spend easily twice the time with Illyria than you do with your friends combined. Honestly, I don't get it."

"What don't you get?"

"Why do you do it?"

Xander shrugged. "Because she asks."

"She asks you. And that's it?"

"That's it. She wants to know something and asks. I help. That's about the size of it."

"You know what I have to say about that? Bollocks."

"And why exactly are you throwing over-Englished words at me this time?"

"Because you're full of it. I see what you're doing. You're using her."

"Excuse me? How the hell did you come up with that one?"

"Somehow, you've gone from not shutting your yap back in the day to full-on avoidance. Don't pretend that it's not obvious, even to somebody like me who doesn't care in the least. First, you go off to deepest Africa instead of sticking around your buddies. And now that you're around them again, you conveniently get attached to the hip of the closest not-quite-human female instead of one of your friends."

"You're insane. More than usual."

"Am I? Fine. Convince me that I'm wrong. How is this absolutely nothing like using Illyria to hide behind? This I want to hear."

Neither noticed the god-king in question intently watching the exchange from outside the living room window.

"This is interesting." Willow peered into her laptop screen.

Buffy stuck her head out of the bathroom, toothbrush in hand. "Got something?"

"Maybe. Could be something big. Found something about Renraw on a mystical-medical newsgroup of all things. It's talking about a doctor. Here, I'll read it." She scrolled up and read from the top. "'Despite his considerable medical skills regarding physical and mental upgrades, replacements, and modifications, and despite the high recommendation by the Los Angeles branch of Wolfram & Hart, we declined his services in this matter. Our investigators discovered possible financial ties to the Brotherhood of Renraw, an overzealous group that follows an impossible prophecy. We feel that anyone associated with this organization in any way is not to be trusted.' Weird."

"Does it really say 'Los Angeles branch of Wolfram & Hart' in there? So Angel and Gunn knew this doctor guy?"

"I don't think so. Well, maybe they did, but this post is dated almost two years ago."

Buffy read over the entry. "I don't like the sound of 'impossible prophecy.' Ever. Those are usually the way-too-possible kind."

"It's like they jinxed it and made it happen. No fair."

"So we have a doctor with some kind of financial ties to a cult and to Angel's former company, and this cult then comes down here to make our lives generally miserable. If I could come up with a combo doctor and lawyer joke right now, I'd use it."

"I wonder what they mean by 'physical and mental upgrades, replacements, and modifications,'" Willow mused. "We really should talk to Angel and Gunn about this. They might know this doctor guy. Or about the prophecy they're talking about. Or they might have heard some tidbit at Wolfram & Hart that could lead us to the fame-makers and the box-and-bomb-placers and the clean-up people and all that stuff."

"I know, I know." Buffy sighed. "And you're right. Dividing our forces like this is pretty silly. At least we're all talking again, right? And I know that I've had to work with them both Angel and Spike as exes before. It's just that much more non-fun having two exes around, especially when another one's just been added to the list."

"But the talking is good."

"It is good. I've had actual mini-conversations that almost went past the exchanged greeting stage this week with both of them. And I want to get these brotherhood bad guys and have a chat with the people who've been screwing with us."

"So we meet?"

"We meet. Maybe get everybody there if we can, all eight of us. Nine if you count She Who Wears Nothing But Leather. I can set it up with Dawn when she gets home. We'll head down there some time tomorrow."

Nivel sat on a stone bench staring at the sky, surrounded by hundreds of rose bushes. He breathed in their scent as he spoke to a person that no longer existed.

"You spent years planning. You arranged for her return. You first introduced me to this worship, long after you had set events in motion. I was so proud of you. I wish that your mother had understood your dedication. This was your calling. But I've done it. I can now complete what you began. I've gathered followers. I've gone through the rituals. I've taken her sacraments and placed them close to my heart according to the ancient ways as you did. I've just completed the final rituals. The one we serve must feel my presence nearby.

"I do this in your memory. Your life should have been filled with glory. My largest regret is that your murderer was killed before I had the chance to kill him myself.

"It is time to fulfill your vision. Be with me at sunrise, son."

Angel and Andrew walked through the unlocked door of the small Italian restaurant. The lights were off, but the place still smelled like food. Too much like food, because Andrew was really hungry.

Andrew sniffed the air. "Doesn't the smell of garlic bother you, vampire-wise?"

"A little. Not as much as advertised. But it's not my favorite."

"So a wreath of garlic won't actually drive a vampire away from me?"

"Actually, it would. Because you'd stink."

"Oh. Got it." Andrew looked around the tiny restaurant. "Who are we meeting here?"

"Informant. Says he has a line on a new player, or group of players, in town. Indicated that it has a religious bent. Has to be Renraw."

"That's really cool. How do you get these secret informants, exactly? Do you put out ads in the paper or something?"

"You just start asking around in the right places. Eventually, they find you. It's a business transaction. One side wants information, and the other side wants money or favors or something in exchange."

"Bet these guys make a lot of cash."

"Only if they have information that's worth anything." Angel looked around. "He should be here by now."

"Maybe he's in the back?"

"Worth checking out."

Andrew followed Angel into the darkened kitchen. "Hello? Anybody here? Wow, it's warm. I think somebody left the oven on."

"Look at this." Angel pointed over towards the sink.

Andrew could just barely make out the shape of a body. "Is that your informant?"

"He fits the description."

"That's not good. One sec, I'll find a light." Andrew fumbled along the walls for a light switch.

A large shape jumped out at Angel the moment Andrew snapped the light on.

"Where is this 'using her' crap coming from, Spike?" Xander demanded. "Did you throw a dart at a board full of random topics to try and throw something my face? Because, to me, this is kinda out of nowhere. She wants to know about how things work. I'm helping her out. What's the big deal?"

"I think your blindness is spreading. This isn't all altruistic, and you damn well know that it's not."

"Ulterior motives are your big thing, remember? Not mine. Wrong roommate"

"Bollocks. Know something about being used. I can recognize it for what it is."

"And what exactly is your seriously faulty brain telling you it is?"

"You're helping out a demon who now has a good portion of human going on about her, so you're thinking that you can train her. Sounds a bit like how I heard you and your bird got together, doesn't it?"

Xander froze. "We are not having this conversation."

"Yeah, we are. Known Illyria longer than you. Knew the girl who should be in the body before that. So I'm paying attention. Owe Fred that much. And it's all plain as the nose on your clueless face, it is. You're just covering old territory that's all nice and comfortable for you. And you're not doing much else."

"How would you know?"

"Because people have asked ME of all people about what you're up to, you nit. Something wrong there, wouldn't you say? I say you're hiding behind Miss Blue and Mighty. Hence, use. Of her. By you."

"She's not human."

"Your point?"

"What you're stupidly suggesting? Not a factor."

"Not saying it is. But your little human-training obsession has far more to do with you than her, doesn't it?"

"Maybe. Just 'cause it's rewarding. But I'm not--"

The front window suddenly collapsed around a maroon-clad fist. Illyria's face wore the same expression it always did, but Xander could see a different and very unpleasant look in her eyes. Fury. Ice cold fury.

This fury was currently focused on Xander. "I will say this once more, and you will remember. I am Illyria, god-king of the primordium, shaper of things, and the immaculate embodiment of rule."

Illyria narrowed her eyes and her gaze got even colder. "Know this, Alexander. I will not be used for any purpose." She turned and stalked away.

Xander climbed through the former window, trying to chase after her. "Illyria! I didn't mean... I wasn't trying to use anybody!"

Spike stopped him. "Leave her be, mate. She's steamed. Best to stay out of her path for the time being. Don't want to be on the receiving end of her when she's all wrathful."

"Just what I needed, an overreacting demon-god royalty type." Xander slammed his hand against the trunk of an unsuspecting eucalyptus tree as he watched her stream down the street. "Damn it!"

"She'll be back in a few days. Pick up some petrie dishes for her and all will be forgiven. Or she'll tear your lungs out and twist them into balloon animals. Hard to say."

Xander watched Illyria's retreating shape helplessly. He didn't like admitting Spike was right. Illyria was in some ways a distraction, something to do so he didn't have to do other things or talk about other things. He'd traded one all-encompassing job - his Africa assignment - for another. And, yeah, there was a little bit of familiarity to this. Almost comforting.

But he honestly did want to help her. When she got a concept, he felt this surge of accomplishment, just like he did when he talked to a new Slayer who got what it was he was trying to explain.

So Spike was both right and wrong. What he didn't know was how to explain that.

It was big, it was kind of lavender in color, it'd knocked Angel to the ground three times now, and Andrew knew exactly what kind of demon it was. Nasty one, too. But it was one he didn't like to summon (back when he summoned things) because of its mega-weakness. He looked around for something that might help; cold water, ice cubes, anything. Then he noticed the big gray metal door in the corner. He ran over and tugged the door open, to be rewarded by the sight of a nice big walk-in freezer. "Angel!" he yelled, waving his arm. "In here!"

Angel glanced at him as he dodged the demon's lunge. "Not looking to hide in an icebox, Andrew."

"No! Listen! That's a Lokhouzukin. They can't handle cold!"

"You're kidding, right?"

"I swear! Just trust me on this."

Angel nodded back to him and tried to draw the demon closer to the freezer. Andrew moved as much of himself as he could behind the metal door while still seeing what was going on.

The demon seemed to be able to feel the waves of cold air coming out of the freezer, and Angel was having trouble luring it in. He finally went with the direct approach of a flying tackle into the small space, making them just about fly through the clear plastic strips that hung inside the door. "Close it!"

"Right!" Andrew did as ordered, latching it and leaning against the door with every bit of strength he had. The demon would try to get out. It wouldn't concentrate on the fight. Then Angel could kill it. He could hear the bangs and crashes, muffled inside the thick walls.

The noises came to an abrupt end. Andrew waited, just in case this was a trick. Then he heard a knock on the inside of the door. Lokhouzukins were pretty dumb. He didn't think they knew about knocking.

He unlatched the door, allowing Angel to stumble out of the freezer, his left side splattered in purple ooze. Andrew grinned at him. "Holy freezer burn, Batman!"

Angel turned to look at him. "What?"

"That was just like Batman and Robin... Never mind. Um, you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." Angel gestured at the human body by the sink. "But our source isn't."

Andrew looked over at the informant's corpse. "Poor guy."

"Information isn't a safe business to be in." Angel leaned against the counter. "Thanks, by the way. Nice going."

"The Lokhouzukin? That was no big deal. Like I said, demonology used to be my hobby."

"Handy hobby you've got there."

"I got it from my brother. I just study Council texts now, but I used to have some really cool books about summoning and control and other stuff, all of which I stopped doing when I stopped being evil."

"Still. Knowing about demons and their weaknesses could be a huge advantage when we're in the field."

Andrew shifted uncomfortably. "Can I tell you something? I think that's the main reason why they let me into Watcher training. Just because I already knew some stuff about demons and other stuff."

"Knowledge is a good and powerful thing to have. That's why we're here tonight. True?" Angel grabbed the bag next the body. "Good. He brought something with him. Just have to hope that this guy didn't die over useless information."

"Dawnie? Is that you?" Buffy's voice was thick with sleepiness.

"It's me. Sorry, I was working late." Dawn dropped her purse off on the table and sat down right where she was on the floor.

"S'okay." Buffy yawned and sat up, stretching her arms over her head. "Anything new?"

"Nope. Just the Los Angeles connection that I told Willow about. Did that help you guys at all?"

"I think so. We found a connection to some doctor who did work for Angel's lawyer people. We're hoping what we found about that guy might ring a bell with Angel or Gunn. It's probably time to compare notes, anyway."

"Cool. About time, by the way. Want me to set something up with Angel?"

"Would you mind?"

"Nah. I'll talk to him when I go in tomorrow."

"Thanks a bunch." Buffy took a breath. "Um, there's something else."

"Everything okay?"

"Oh, absolutely, but um, guess what? I've decided that I'm not going back to Rome, considering the circumstances and everything."

"Stupid Immortal guy. I'm tempted to buy a plane ticket to Italy just to kick him really hard."

"It's okay. I mean, yes, he's stupid, and I'd cheer on the kicking, but I'm glad that I'm staying. Anyway, I'll be looking for my own place pretty soon, but that has nothing to do with me wanting to get away from you or anything. So don't be mad."

Dawn giggled. "Mad? No way. I think that'll be neat for you, having your own place. Besides, this means that I'll be getting my room all to myself again."

"Sorry. I've been Invasion Girl for a while now, huh?"

"Just a little."

"Okay, well, cool." Buffy looked relieved in the dim light. "Okay then, tomorrow we'll talk to Gunn and Angel about this doctor guy we found out about. Maybe it'll help us find the actual Renraw-ers or who the Reborn One is."

"That'd be nice. Okay, tomorrow we mix the info together and see what we can figure out."

Andrew leaned his elbows on the table. They had returned to Angel's office an hour ago, but Dawn had gone home for the night. Gunn was already asleep in his room. The place was super quiet. Andrew was barely awake himself, but he didn't want to tell Angel that. If he was going to be spending more time around this office, Andrew thought, he should stock it with Red Bull or Rockstar or something for these all-nighters.

They both had a few sheets of paper from the informant's file, but the letters were swimming around and not making much sense. He thought he saw the word Xof on one of them, but Xof wasn't a word, so he must be sleepy.

So far, every single one of the sheets referred to cult-like evil-doings, but it all was vague, like all of the cult members were tiptoeing around in their robes or whatever they wear trying not to make too much noise. But they'd killed a girl, and they'd made them all scarily famous, and they'd maybe even made Willow too sick to use her magic. Those were all big actions for a sneaky group. It all wasn't making a lot of sense.

"That can't be right." Angel was staring at a piece of paper like it was lying to him.

Andrew yawned. "What's not right?"

"Here's some notes about somebody who was seen with spell ingredients that are often used in conjunction with technical-related spells, so it could be that this somebody were a part of what happened to us last week."

"Ooh, good lead!"

"Not really. The thing is, this mentions by name the group that the buyer represented, but Renraw isn't mentioned anywhere on this."

"Who is it?"

Angel re-read the notes. "It says here... Xof? Never heard of them, either."

"Xof? Wait a micron, I have something about them." Andrew searched through his papers and read aloud. "'The true reality is the one championed by Xof. All else are insignificant stories that shall be eradicated, and we shall do so rapidly and without mercy. Our god is supreme and will walk among us again, and our brotherhood shall not cause offense by presenting less than perfection as we know it to be.' Who are these guys?"

"I have no idea who they are. But they're in town, and they're making waves. Big ones."

"Wait a minute. So instead of one evil cult that's up to something bad, we might have two evil cults that are both up to something bad, and either one and maybe both are trying to frell us?"

"Hard to say. But it seems that way."

Andrew slumped back in his chair. "Oh boy."

"Uh, wait. What exactly does 'frell' mean?"

The heady smell of florals bordered on intoxicating. Illyria wished to call out to them, converse, share their experiences. She could not. The song of the green remained silent to her ears. It was maddening. She continued to despise the fact that her link to the world of plants had been severed.

One song rang out to her this night. She still seethed with anger at Alexander - he dared to use her for his own purposes! - but the call had inexorably drawn her to this place. The call was familiar and yet subtly different. She recognized for what it was, but she had not thought to hear such a song again.

She approached the center of the song, an unimpressive human of advancing years. "You are Qwa'ha Xahn."

"Illyria." The man stood and bowed before her. "I am your priest. I am your servant. I am your guide in this world. It is my honor to greet you."

Illyria stared at the man, challenging him. "I do not understand. This is not possible. My Qwa'ha Xahn was destroyed. He who summoned me is no more. His destroyer became my guide until he too was destroyed."

"Blasphemy," Nivel murmured.

Illyria stared coldly at him. "Do not presume to determine what is blasphemous and what is not."

"Apologies, O Reborn One."

"I then chose yet another guide who has provided much information to me about this world. Why should I discard him for another?"

Nivel opened his shirt to revel the stitched-together incisions in his chest. "We are bound. Also, I share the blood of your last true Qwa'ha Xahn. These others were mere impostors. I will work for your glory above all else. Your followers await."

"You are mistaken. I have no followers."

"You do indeed have followers. We are small in number, but mighty in resources. When you joined forces with the infidels who drained your power, we learned that your ancient army was no more. When your Qwa'ha Zahn was killed, we almost gave up hope. That was our folly. But we have learned from out errors. We will serve you as you and your army reclaim your kingdom."

"I have no army. It exists no longer."

"We have solved that problem. We will summon forces into this dimension that will be loyal to you. You will have your kingdom again. Your name will once again be supreme. Just allow us to serve you, and we will conquer all that would stand in your way."

"Who would dare oppose me?"

"Forgive me for stating a fact that I'm certain you are already aware, but I believe those with whom you have been associating would be foremost of those who would stand in your way. According to our research, they would oppose your ascendancy. We have already taken steps to reduce their abilities."

"You would destroy them."

"They are lesser creatures. After all, I'm only referring to two vampires and a haphazard collection of humans. Surely this is not an issue to a great being when compared to the return of your kingdom. All must live to serve you. You were god-king to gods. You will be so again."

Ethan watched the scene in the rose garden from a safe distance as Nivel addressed his god-king. This moment was the pinnacle of the man's existence. Sad, really. Nivel had no idea that gods were a dime a dozen these days, there for the picking if one knew how to go about it. Ad why not? A god would be fascinating to have handy. Multiple gods would be even better.

He raised his hand to his chest and felt the half-healed incisions under his shirt. Nivel had undergone this procedure for his ridiculous so-called religion and because of his dead son. Ethan had gone under the knife for far more interesting reasons. The pain was only a minor inconvenience, as pulling two sets of strings was ever so much fun. Nivel was terribly easy to control, but the other side of the equation required more active supervision. However, when an glorious opportunity such as this becomes available for the taking, a little extra effort is always well worth the trouble.

Whoever had left the Deeper Well unguarded was exceedingly stupid.

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