A/N: Hello! Thanks for checking this story out. If you're a follower of this series, read on (and please drop a note or a kudos when you're done)! If you're new...this is not the best story to come in on. This deals with the consequences of a decision Angel made in the previous story (Enchanted Evenings), and builds on relationships and settings established there. Even though Enchanted Evenings is long, I recommend reading that first.

Chapter One

"Of course, you could just forget all this ever happened," Calder said in what was probably supposed to be a consoling tone to the 20-something woman between him and William. She was breathing shallowly, the exhales coming out in small wisps of cloud in the cold December air. Her gait was stiff and shaky as they headed out of the alley where she'd just been attacked by a small gang of vampires.

"But I mean...it's kind of cool, isn't it?" Calder went on.

"Cal," William chastised quietly as the woman gave Calder an incredulous look.

"Once you get over the nearly-getting-eaten thing," Calder said, like it was an obvious caveat. "I mean...vampires!"

"Oh god," the woman whispered.

"Ignore him," William advised. "He doesn't get it."

Calder asked, "Get what?" but William continued talking to the woman as they reached the sidewalk and turned left. "I was attacked when I was 9, actually. Yeah..." he said at her surprised look. "It took some time to get over. Actually, in some ways I'm probably still getting over it. Some things you just can't process as a kid, you know? But now I'm doing something about it."

"You help others," the woman said softly. "Others who are going through the same thing."

"Er, yeah, I guess," William nodded. "So, you know… Do that. Or something. Process and then...decide what to do."

Usually when Angel gave them advice based on his experiences, it didn't sound so stilted and lame. But then, he'd had a few centuries of practice talking about traumatic things in his life. If the woman thought it was either stilted or lame, though, she didn't indicate it. Instead, she gave William a small, hesitant smile.

"Thanks," she said. "Now this 'processing'... I know you were only 9, but you wouldn't know if it's helped by large quantities of alcohol, do you?"

William let out a quick laugh, but stopped when he realized she might be serious. "Not 'large' quantities," he said, hoping to prevent an alcohol poisoning. "But minor quantities, yeah. I think." That was how Angel seemed to handle things, anyway. William glanced around the woman at Calder, who shrugged and nodded.

"Whatever, cheap-o's," she said, rolling her eyes slightly.

William frowned in confusion. Cheap-o? What did their spending habits have to do with any of this?

"So where's your favorite place?" she asked. "I hope it's nearby, I'm freezing."

Comprehension started to dawn on William about the same time as it did on Calder. Calder, however, beat him to the response. Unfortunately.

"Hang on- You think we're going to buy you drinks? We just saved your life! Shouldn't you be buying us the drinks?"

Or no one buy anyone drinks, William wanted to respond, but the woman rolled her eyes again and spoke before William could. "That wasn't exactly what I was thinking your thanks would be…"

A stunned silence followed this implied proposal.

About a hundred thoughts ran through William's head all at once, including, Does she actually mean that? Like THAT that?

And, Both of us? Together?

And, Maybe she means money. Which sounds great. I hope she means money.

And, She probably doesn't mean money.

And, She might mean something like a car. I could go for a car. Or a new Palm, my screen's cracked.

With a twisting underlying, She can probably read it on your face right now that you're a virgin.

And piled on top of all that, She does know we're 18, right?

(Which, while technically of age, felt like children next to her mid-20-something. William couldn't decide if his pride would allow him to point this out, if it came to that.)

(It didn't.)

The woman laughed. "Sorry," she said, activating a ring on her right hand that brought up a holographic projection of her Palm onto her palm. "I just wanted to see your expressions. I'm allowed some awkward humor on account of nearly getting killed just now. But seriously, I'm heading to the bar." She lifted her hand toward her mouth slightly and said, "Call a cab," then she hung back and veered over toward the curb to wait for the driverless cab to come pick her up, tapping the ring again to turn the projection off.

William and Calder turned to face her, both still thrown from the turn in conversation.

"Thanks, by the way," she said, catching first William's eyes, then Calder's. "Really. Thanks."

"Of course," William replied. That, at least, being an automatic response he didn't have to think about.

"Yeah," Calder agreed. "It's what we do."

"Cool job," she replied. "I guess."

The cab pulled up. It was a short two-seater, and she opened the nearest door. "Small quantities of alcohol," she said, like repeating an instruction to remember later.

"Small," William nodded. "Take care."

She gave them an uncertain smile and then slid into the cab. Seconds later, it was driving away.

William turned and looked at Calder and things were very awkward for a few long seconds. Then, by unspoken agreement made from having been best friends since they were small children, agreed to never bring up that moment again and resume as if they hadn't just kind of considered a threesome with a rescue-ee.

"Angel's meeting us where?" Calder asked lightly.

"Genius in a Bottle," William replied just as lightly. "Had to ask Mr. Blu about something."

"Right," Calder agreed. He turned to face the way they'd been going, paused, turned the other way, paused again, then finally changed his mind and turned one last time. "That way," he said, pointing with both index fingers.

They talked about other things the rest of the walk there, which wasn't terribly far: recounting the fight, praising each other's better battle tactics, describing things that had happened while the other had been busy with his own vampires. They didn't bring up the woman at all.

When they reached the bookshop Genius in a Bottle, they found Angel at the counter talking with a tall, slender man with an inky-black goatee. They beelined for him, falling silent. Even though the shop was quite busy for that time of night, the patrons all had a reserved hush about them, like their purposes were of the highest importance and privacy.

Angel often rolled his eyes at this attitude when he noticed it and then would go and find his books with the exact same air.

Angel nodded at them as they approached, but didn't slow what he was saying to Mr. Blu. "-the registry. It's not like they really cared before now."

"Dan's always cared," Mr. Blu shrugged his bony shoulders.

"Yeah, but that's Dan," Angel replied, sounding a bit exasperated.

Mr. Blu shrugged again.

"Well," Angel sighed. "Thanks for the book, anyway, Reg."

"Anytime, Angel," Mr. Blu raised his hand in farewell, and then he nodded to William and Calder. "Evening, sirs, can I help you?"

"No thanks," William replied. "We're just meeting Angel."

"Then if you'll excuse me…" He bowed his lanky form with a willowy sort of bend and wandered off to find someone else to assist.

Taking his new book off the counter and tucking it under his arm, Angel turned to William and Calder. "Well?" he asked. "How'd it go?"

"Fine," William said at the same time as Calder said, "Good."

There was a moment of silence with Angel looking between the two of them until he said, "Good." Then all three of them turned and headed for the door by the same unspoken agreement as earlier.

They walked in silence for about a block before Angel said, "It's just- As your mentor and Seer, I feel like we should- I don't know, have grand rounds or something."

"What more do you want, Angel?" Calder asked. "You got a vision, passed it on to us, we completed the mission, case closed. Lives were saved. Unlives were lost. Go team."

When Angel glanced at William, he nodded in agreement.

Angel let out a short sigh. "Alright… It's just normally you two can't stop talking about it…"

"We talked about it on the way here," Calder replied. "Didn't we, Will?"

"Yup," William agreed. "There's nothing else we need to talk about."

Angel gave them both a skeptical glance, but said, "Alright…" After another long stretch of silence, he said, "Well, I'm going to see Connor." He slowed down as they approached a sheltered tram stop.

Calder looked over at him, watching as Angel reached for the call button. "Isn't it kind of late?"

"I'm not going to wake him," Angel replied, chuckling softly.

"So…" Calder stared at him, confused. "You're just going to...watch him sleep?"

Angel shrugged. "Yeah."

There was another long silence of a different sort while Calder puzzled this out. Finally, he said, "Well that's creepy."

Angel looked a bit taken aback. He glanced at William, as if for confirmation. William, however, got it, sort of. Connor was Angel's son. Sometimes it was just nice to breathe the same air; but that was a concept that Calder wouldn't have understood, when it came to family.

"I guess…" William said slowly, "when you're just being together, it's not creepy. And if Connor's okay with it."

Calder looked back at Angel, like he was a puzzle. "It's not boring?"

"No," Angel chuckled. "It's peaceful. Until it gets boring, and then you leave. Come with me sometime, if you want."

William knew Calder well enough to know that there were about a million things he'd rather do than sit and watch an old man sleep. He seemed to be deliberating on something - perhaps how to say it politely.

"Or not," Angel held up his hand in surrender as the tram pulled up to the stop. "You wait until it's your kid."

"Assuming I have any," Calder replied.

"Assuming you do," Angel agreed. "Oh- Can you guys swing by the piers for me? Just recon; don't engage unless there are humans involved. Thanks." He waved as he stepped onto the tram. The door closed behind him and started moving a second later.

Calder turned and looked at William. "Kind of a weird night, isn't it?" he asked, and without waiting for an answer, headed off down the street again.

Angel felt a little guilty as he sat in Connor's dark room, watching his chest rise and fall rhythmically, listening to the air rattle through his lungs, his blood thrum through his veins. He hadn't had as much time as usual to come visit Connor since becoming a Seer for William and Calder (and the Powers That Be) a few months before. At least, not while he was awake.

The visions came in waves; something which Angel had noticed in L.A., too. There would be several a week for a few weeks, and then nothing at all for a long stretch. They were in the middle of a flood, now, and Angel hadn't seen Connor (awake) for five days, between visions (which he would help with if the mission was something the boys hadn't handled before) and his duties as a Demon of Influence in town. There was a territory dispute in the sewers just south of Angel's building, there were payments to collect for keeping quiet about the smuggling routes from the piers, several newcomers that Angel had wanted to meet, that sort of thing. And, of course, kitten poker.

Overall, Angel enjoyed the business of his life, and was finding that he was actually enjoying the addition of Seeing for the boys. They were getting exposed to a much wider variety of challenges than they had been when Angel had had to find demons to practice killing, and occasionally the mystery of the vision forced Angel to reconnect with old acquaintances around town who could potentially be helpful further down the road. His reputation had been tarnished a bit, signing on with the Powers That Be, but as Angel forcefully reminded everyone who brought it up, it wasn't exactly new for him; just revisited.

But it did mean that Angel was spending less waking time with Connor, and he already regretted it. When Connor finally died (and who knew when that would be?), Angel knew he would look back and tear himself up for not spending as much time as possible with the person who mattered most to him. He wasn't sure if Connor noticed at all. He was used to almost-daily visits from Angel, but Connor's short term memory didn't go beyond a minute or so. Still, when established routines are broken, shouldn't some part of him notice?

Angel's Palm buzzed, making him jump a little. He rose and went outside to read the message so the light from the hologram wouldn't wake Connor. He tapped the ring on his left middle finger when he reached the hall and a message from Emily Slipp, owner of the vampire nightclub Decade, beamed across the skin of his palm. It read simply,

Job for you.

Angel glanced back toward Connor's dark room and gave it a moment's hesitation. Well, he had visited, and it wasn't like Connor would miss him.

Angel tapped the ring to turn off the projection, whispered an I love you into the room, and went to see what kind of job Emily had for him.

Angel went in the back entrance at Decade. The front had a long line waiting to get in, but even so, Angel preferred the back. It was quieter, and as a patron, the more-bar-less-club back room much better suited his taste. Also, Emily's office was more easily accessible from the back.

Angel asked the bouncer at the back (a short, fat, rather ugly fairy) if Emily was in her office as he passed, and the bouncer grunted grumpily. It was nothing new: Phil was always grumpy.

"She's waiting for you," he said.

"Oh...good," Angel replied as he went in.

The back door led into a tastefully-decorated foyer. Not to Angel's taste, specifically, but care had gone into the distinctly 1980's goth vibe, and that, at least, he could appreciate. In front of him were a set of lifts leading to the upper floors and down into the dungeon. Just to the left was a door that led into the human bar (that is, the bar where humans were served as drinks) and on the other side of the lifts to the right was Emily's office.

Angel went straight over there, passing a vampire couple stepping off the lift, marred with fresh cuts.

"-I ever had; too bad he's booked for the next three months," one was saying to her companion.

"I hear he takes bribes," she replied.

"I'd lose all respect if he didn't."

Their voices faded as they left out the back door, and Angel paused at Emily's office.

"You don't have to lurk out there," Emily said through the door. "Assuming that's Angel."

The door wasn't latched, so Angel pushed it open and stepped in.

Emily sat behind a large ebony desk, bent over the screen of a computer and prodding the screen aggressively with her finger. "Why. Don't. You. Work?" she asked the screen as she poked at it. Letting out a heavy sigh, she looked up at Angel, her bracelets clinking together as her arm lowered to the desk. "Remind me in 30 years not to update the software. No matter what the IT guy says. Next time an IT guy comes in here, I'm just going to eat him and have done with it."

Angel smiled knowingly as he sat down in the chair across from her. Angelus agreed wholeheartedly with the sentiment. "Your job for me better not be IT work," he told her.

"Hell no. I know better than to hire a vampire for that," Emily said, shoving the screen aside. "I have something a little more fun. You're killing demons these days, right?"

Well, he was helping vigilante humans kill demons. Which, in this circle counted. Still, Angel replied, "When they annoy me."

"How about when they annoy me and I'm offering a...generous reward." Emily sat back in her chair, watching Angel's reaction. "I don't need you to personally do it. If you want to send your little...champions to do it I'll pay you just as well. Or do it yourself. Whichever."

Angel kept his expression neutral as he asked, "How generous are we talking?"

Emily nodded and reached into a drawer to pull out a pen and paper. She wrote out a number and passed it to Angel. "Half on delivery," she said. "Pretty standard for this kind of work."

She was right, and the number was generous enough that Angel had to keep himself from showing that he was impressed. "Who's the target?"

Emily picked up the computer screen, noted that it was still frozen and dropped it back onto the desk with another sigh. She flipped her wrist over, activating her Palm. "Remember when people had pictures?" she said, scrolling through a selection of security photos. "Here." She reached out her wrist in Angel's direction, the image directly moving to Angel's Palm. "There are two Trog demons there that I'd like to have removed existence. They're named Yurrg and Yun and they recently beheaded one of my girls. You know the rules. They certainly didn't pay for that shit." She sat forward, her eyes meeting Angel's. "But they will."

Angel quickly ran through what he knew about Trog demons: generally evil. Aggressive. Not technically soulless but close enough. A thorn in his side more than once.

"No problem," he said. "You have a deadline on this?"

Emily grinned. Her teeth tended to look sharp even in her human face. "Within the week. While the incident is fresh on everyone's mind. I'll pay you a bonus for anyone else in their nest. And if you could bring back at least one head to hang on the wall, I'd appreciate it. You know, it's about the spectacle more than anything."

"Of course," Angel nodded. "Address? I charge extra for sleuthing."

"I like that you're still greedy," Emily said. "I'll message you their address."

Angel had seen the boys pass locations of parties and meetups between their Palms seemingly with psychic powers, but since he had no idea how they did it, he nodded agreeably.

"Thanks," he said. "There's something else, then."

Emily arched her eyebrow at him, both prompting and curious.

"I know you're still trafficking out of my piers," Angel told her in a low voice.

"Everyone trafficks out of your piers," Emily replied coolly. "We pay you ridiculous amounts to pretend like you don't know."

"Not this time," Angel said firmly. "I look the other way on a lot that goes on around here." He gestured toward the wall, on the other side of which was the human bar he himself occasionally patronized. "You know I do. Humans that want to get paid to sell their blood: that's their prerogative. Black market drug trade: we all benefit. Fae targeting humans to make unfair deals with: they're never going to stop, so as long as they don't target people in my neighborhood, I wash my hands of it." He raised his finger and pointed it at her. "But you're saturating the market with your imports, and that's bad for everyone. Your Russians are everywhere. Stop it."

Emily took a deep inhale through her nose, perhaps smelling Angel. She could probably pick up the scents of the boys. "Not only do I pay, Angel, but I have been doing you significant favors as well. Are you not welcomed into my bar? Just like a vampire. And you aren't above drinking a blonde or two: you can't try to take the high road, even if I cared about the high road. You've purchased my imports before. You do benefit, saturation or not."

Just like a vampire made Angel bristle a little bit, but he tried not to let it show. He was a vampire, dammit, if...unconventional. "Like I said," he repeated coolly, "Market saturation hurts everyone in the end. I don't care if you want to deal; I care about the quantities of your shipment you got in tonight. I have human contacts who could hear the crying a quarter of a kilometer away. I'm cutting off your docking rights next time it happens."

Emily narrowed her eyes angrily, "There's only so much trade that goes through the Dragon's Crown. We have our own tables here to keep fresh, and our patrons are..." she tapped a long, black nail on the desk, "thirsty."

Angel stared at her unrelentingly. "Not. Through. My. Piers," he repeated.

Emily stared back. "Are the little creatures so important to you?" she said, a little smile appearing and then dropping away again.

"My rules being followed are important to me," Angel replied.

"The I'm-a-soft-marshmallow-inside-and-don't-want-any-humans-to-be-hurt rules?" Emily said, sneering.

"The very same," Angel said, temper rising at the off-topic jibe. "The soul has changed some of my priorities, but you'd do well not to forget that I don't have the same rules about demons, Emily. Find another way to import your exotics, if you must."

Emily leaned back in her chair. "If you killed me, Angel, your territory would crumble in the ensuing turf war. You think Seth Aisner isn't angling for a bit of the pier?" She held up a hand, the bracelets shifting on her arm. "But I do like you, Angel. And I'm not the person I want you trying to kill, ill advised or not. Moving the operation will cost me, but I'll let you buy me off. Give the check back. Kill the brothers. I'll use the cash to relocate my supply line."

Angel considered this, unhappily. He hadn't realized her operation there had worn a rut so deep. He was losing the piers faster than he thought. As such prime real estate, it was fought over on a good year, but this year had been particularly bad for Angel and his grip on his territory. Signing on with the Powers That Be had been a clear declaration to the demon underworld that he was softening. The piers had been the hardest to hold onto, and with William and Calder's report to him on his way over to Decade that the dealings were happening openly now (they were the ones who had heard the screeching cries in the crates as they were transferred onto the truck), that meant his grip was actively slipping. As they spoke.

Taking a cut in pay in exchange for the operation moving was still a slip, but at least he would get what he wanted, for now.

Angel swallowed. "For the record," he said, "I like you too. And I like Decade. You'd never be my target. I'd go for your henchman." He smiled pseudo-pleasantly as he handed the check back. "I know good help is hard to find. And expensive to train."

Emily smiled again as she took the check. "You're welcome back any time," she said. "I'll have a nice, local girl ready for you."

Angel made himself smile at her. "Thank you. I'm glad we could work this out civilly."

"You know what they say: You want a demon dead, hire a hero." Emily stood up. "But I feel like you might make it...suitably messy. Let yourself go a bit."

Angel smiled. He felt like he could use a bit of letting go. After all, he was a vampire, too. He let the smile linger, then turned and left.

He had barely made it outside when the vision hit.