•••

"So what was that all about?" Cordelia asked as Angel returned to the office. She and Fred had gotten more than a bit worried when Angel had left during his conversation with Wil. They'd known it was the blonde when they saw Angel's face light up when he answered the phone. Then he'd begun to scowl.

"Wil thinks that we should join him in London." Angel sat down heavily and closed his eyes. Maybe the girls would hold off on questioning him for just a minute.

As it happened, they did. Cordelia looked uncomfortably over at Fred, who was frowning. "Why?" The physicist asked after a long pause.

"He's got a plan to get the Watchers' Council out of the control of Easton, Ginnis & Ralls, but it's going to take more than just their abilities. They need us."

"This wouldn't have anything to do with Her Excellence the Slayer's appearance, would it?" Cordelia inquired. If their help was needed in London, that was fine, but she didn't want one of her bosses making a bad decision based on jealousy. She was sure that Wil wasn't pleased with Buffy's presence—and he shouldn't be! The Slayer had wasted no time in 'testing the waters,' flirting with Angel and making pointed references to their times together. Angel hadn't responded, but he wasn't comfortable.

Angel shook his head. "No, it's that the situation there is critical, while everything here is under control. If the Watchers' Council isn't fixed, things could get very bad very quickly."

"Who's going to take care of Los Angeles?" Cordelia asked. "The Powers might have changed Xander's channel to a London station, but I'm still getting Southern California."

"We can call them in to Buffy. Between her and Lorne, things should be ok," Angel said.

"OK?" Cordelia shouted. "You want to leave our job to her? She'll end the world."

"Actually, she probably won't," Fred inserted. "Granted, she's rough around the edges, but with Lorne's guidance, and taking care of Dawn and Willow to fill up her time, she should be fine. He can help her with the investigation business—she's going to need the income. And, he'll know how to keep her out of Lilah's sights. If all she does is mundane stuff and Cordelia's visions, she shouldn't get into trouble."

"What if Her Highness doesn't want to do this?" Cordelia asked.

Angel shrugged. "She won't have much choice. There's nowhere else for her to go, and I think that, in all honesty, she'd like to see the Watchers straightened out. They should be the ones guiding her—not us. She needs the structure; most of her problems stem from not having it."

"And Gunn?" Cordelia pressed.

"I'd prefer he come with us, but if he needs to stay here, it won't be an issue," Angel said. "But his help would be invaluable."

"I'll see what I can do," Cordelia replied. "But you need to discuss this with Buffy, Dawn, and Lorne. If they don't like it, we stay here."

•••

"What?"

Angel looked away from Buffy. "We need to go, Buffy. There isn't any other choice."

"And you want me, and whatever the green thing can come up with, to just take care of Los Angeles—alone?" She didn't like this, not one bit. How dare he use her as a substitute? He probably wasn’t even needed over there—he just wanted to be closer to 'Wil'. "I don't think so, Angel."

"Why not? You've been aching for something to do," He winced slightly at the double entendre, "And this is a perfect opportunity. Besides, you know as well as I do that we don’t work well together," Which was true; ever since she'd arrived they'd been like oil and water, "So it's best, don't you think? Willow is already improving, and you can't help but notice that Dawn actually likes school here."

Buffy scowled. All of that was true. "What about Wolfram & Hart, and Cordelia's visions?"

"We can call you with the details if she has one, and we've given you everything we know about Wolfram & Hart. Lorne can help you with the details—how to stay out of their sights, keep Dawn safe, and the like. Honestly, Buffy, if you don't try to take them on directly, they shouldn't bother you."

The Slayer stayed silent for several minutes. She still didn't like the situation; however, Angel made a convincing case. The girl and the Slayer warred briefly, but the Slayer won. It would be best for her to stay here and fight in Los Angeles while he left for London. "Leave me contact information and access to money. I'll try to run this investigation firm of yours, but it might not fly. I'm not the 'help the helpless' type."

Angel nodded. He hadn't exactly expected her to, although Lorne would probably try hard to change that. "I've got everything ready, so don't worry."

Buffy rolled her eyes. "I can take care of myself, you know."

Angel left her with that. He still had a lot to do, not the least of which was packing and getting everything organized here. Wil had promised to get everything ready on their end, so at least he didn't have to worry about that. He couldn't help but be excited about the relocation; he hadn't seen the blonde in many weeks and it was driving him crazy. He knew that Fred was feeling the same way about Wesley.

The dark vampire was sorting through his clothes, trying to remember just how miserable London weather was, when Lorne sauntered in. "Well, lover boy, you finally found a way to get over to London, hmm?"

"Shut up," Angel said laughingly. "Do you know how much I hate London?"

"Why? Isn't that where you found Wil—the first time?" Lorne inquired.

"It rains a lot, it's foggy and damp, and I murdered thousands of people there," Angel replied. "Not exactly my most fond memories."

Lorne waved him off. "You'll love it. Besides, it puts you several thousand miles from your favorite ex-girlfriend."

"Are you sure you don't mind this?" Angel asked, referring to the substantial role that Lorne would play once he was gone.

"Oh, I'm going to enjoy every minute of it," Lorne said. "Don't you worry one bit."

"What? Me worry?" Angel shot back. "Never."

"Pull the other one. Actually, I came up here for a reason." Lorne reached into one pocket, retrieving a floppy disk. "Your investigators might find that handy."

Angel took the diskette. "What is this?"

Lorne shrugged. "Some old, and not so old, contacts I've got in London. I would've given them sooner, but I'm not sure they'll help."

"Thanks," Angel murmured. It was more than he'd expected. After all, Lorne wasn't beholden to help them. "Are you sure—"

"Yes, and stop asking," Lorne said, cutting him off. "I've got to go back to the club—business, business, business. Stop by before your flight, though."

"Of course."

•••

"Could you please remove your shoes?"

Angel stared at the elderly lady, who was brandishing a plastic wand with a round, flat head. "Excuse me?"

"Have a seat over there and take off your shoes." The security guard spoke slowly, in case Angel was a bit slow. Angel looked over at the folding chair and grimaced. How did this happen? Fred's spell was supposed to whisk them through this kind of hassle. Now he was supposed to remove his shoes in an airport so that some old lady could sniff around them? He hurried to comply when he saw her look over at a largish man with a gun, ignoring Cordelia's stifled laughter.

By the time the foursome finally reached their seats, no one was in a good mood anymore. Angel eased into the center seat, letting Fred have the window. He hoped that no one had purchased the aisle seat—with the luck he was having, it would be someone very talkative.

"Hi!"

Angel looked up. A short, portly gentleman with a wispy comb-over was stashing a huge bag in the overhead compartment. Angel winced at the sweat stains that covered the guy's old, ratty dress shirt, which was open at the neck, displaying quite a few gold chains and a plethora of chest hair. Cheap polyester pants and vinyl deck shoes finished the outfit. "Hi," He replied shortly, hoping the guy was maybe, just maybe, sitting on the other side of the plane.

No such luck. The passenger sat down right next to Angel, letting the vampire get his first whiff of strong, musty cologne—was that patchouli? Angel barely restrained the urge to sneeze as the man reached around, looking for his seatbelt. The vampire jumped when he felt the guy's hand on his ass, probing with curious fingers.

"Heh, sorry. Looking for the lap belt," The man joked as Angel glared at him. This was going to be torture—a cross-country flight with this guy?

Fred looked across Angel at the man and paled. "Angel?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm so sorry," She said quietly. "Do you want something to drink?" Angel knew what she was talking about—they'd packed two pints of blood for him to drink while traveling.

"In New York," He replied. It would be easier to feed there, when he didn't have a…neighbor looking over his shoulder. The man managed to feel him up again while trying to figure out how to use his radio. Only a menacing growl from Angel stopped him.

"I'm Gene," the guy said as he finally settled down. "You fly much?"

"No," Angel said.

"First time?" Gene inquired with a leer.

"No," Angel replied shortly.

"Oh. I do this all the time. It's a great way to meet people. Where are you going?"

"Siberia," Angel replied. "We're on our honeymoon." Fred looked up quickly and smiled. She didn't care if Angel used her as an excuse to end conversation with the odious little man. His cologne was giving her a headache.

"Really? I've never been to Siberia. My first wife and I got married in Vegas. We went to Cancun for the um…consummation," Gene said.

"How nice," Angel said absently. The flight attendant began the safety briefing and he gave her all of his attention, as though she was the most enthralling thing he'd ever seen. It did keep Gene quiet; the first time he tried to interrupt Angel sent him a death-glare.

By the time they were in the air, though, Gene was back to regaling Angel with stories of his sexual escapades, both in the air and on the ground. The dark vampire didn't care who Gene had done, how and where. He just wanted the guy to shut up. It didn't help any that the flight attendants kept giving him more alcohol, although Angel was sure that he'd more than reached his limit. It wasn’t until after the sixth drink that he realized that they were doing it to keep the guy's hands off them. He was a real perv.

When they landed in New York, Angel pulled Fred along with him as they ran through the terminal and toward a bathroom. He could hear Gene yelling for him—well, for the guy in 14b, since Angel had never given the guy his name. He pushed Fred into the men's room and down to the handicapped stall. Once inside, he propped her on top of the toilet and leaned against the wall. "We'll find Cordelia and Gunn in a minute, ok?"

Fred just nodded silently and began to rummage through her carry-on luggage. She extracted two bags of blood and handed them to Angel. The vampire drank them cold, grimacing at the taste. A few minutes later, Angel dragged the girl back out of the restroom and went off in search of their friends. It wasn’t difficult to track them, since they were heading for the same place that Angel and Fred were.

"Where did you guys go?" Cordelia asked as they sat down in the terminal.

"Bathroom," Angel said.

"He had an emergency," Fred added.

Gunn frowned. "But I thought that you guys didn't have to…"

"Don't ask," Angel said. "Just don't ask."

•••

"Fruits? Vegetables?"

"No and no," Angel replied tiredly. They'd done this in LA, but apparently, they had to answer the same damned questions again in London.

"Controlled substances? Illegal information?"

"No and no," Angel continued, wondering idly how many people actually said yes to those questions.

"Has anyone that you do not know been in contact with or possession of your luggage prior to check-in?"

"No," Angel replied.

"What do you plan to do during your visit to London?"

/Kill things./ "Sightseeing."

"How long do you plan to stay?"

"Two weeks." There wasn't any reason to tell the guy that he'd be staying indefinitely.

Angel gathered his luggage and met up with the others. At least this time he hadn't gotten the short end of the stick; he'd kind of figured he'd get strip searched, considering his past luck. They pulled themselves together and made for the exit, hoping that their friends would still be there to pick them up. They'd been delayed for three hours in New York. That had caused a few problems, but nothing drastic—they hoped.

Wesley was the only one waiting for them when they made it to the main entrance to the airport. The sun was up—nothing that Angel didn't know already, but it did explain why Wil wasn’t with them. Fred kept her greeting to a quick hug as the four travelers piled their luggage into the car and squeezed themselves inside. It wasn't built for five adults and a lot of baggage, but they managed. Angel was given a spot across the back seat, over both Cordelia and Gunn's laps, so that he could be covered with a blanket.

Even with that covering him, Angel could tell that Wesley was racing through the streets; well, racing as best as he could in London traffic. Cordelia was grilling the ex-Watcher about the goings-on in London; to Angel's surprise the conversation was focused on work and not fashion. Then again, Delia wasn't really as shallow as she made herself appear to be.

"Welcome home," Wesley said as he pulled into an underground garage. Angel was grateful for the cover and maneuvered himself out of the car, trying not to hurt anyone in the process.

"We need two of those," Angel muttered as he started to unload luggage.

"Yes," Wesley replied. "That takes a bit of time."

"So, where is this 'flat?'" Cordelia asked as they went for the elevator.

"Four," Wesley replied as the elevator door closed. Cordelia pushed the button and the thing lurched to life. "And yes, it's safe."

The hallway on the fourth floor was dim and windowless. They followed Wesley to the very last door, which was painted a singularly unattractive pea green. "Well, I'll never forget which one's ours," Cordelia muttered as Wesley struggled with the lock.

As soon as the door opened, Angel knew that Wil was there. He could smell the vampire—a soft, familiar scent in the air. He followed the others inside, looking around desperately. He'd been told by Wesley that this was the 'new' flat—a larger one they'd procured in anticipation of their arrival. His perusal turned up a great many things—blackout curtains over the windows, old but usable furniture scattered about, and no Wil.

"Angel."

The dark vampire turned his head to the left. Wil was lounged against a doorframe, looking sleep-tousled and drowsy. "Wil."

Cordelia rolled her eyes and set down her luggage. She went into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator, knowing that there would be a good supply of blood there. Once she'd found it, she searched for a couple of mugs. When she returned with the warm blood, Angel and Wil were still staring at each other. "Hello, bloodsuckers. Fresh, hot food. Take or I throw away."

Both vampires were familiar with the threat and took the proffered mugs. Wil reached for one of Angel's bags and the dark vampire picked up the others, following Wil down the hallway. "Bad as this sounds, they've got the right idea. I'm ready for some sleep," Gunn declared. The others nodded their agreement. Wesley helped Fred carry her bags and pointed out Gunn and Cordelia's room as they passed.

"That one is Xander and Oz's room," Wesley warned. "But they're not here right now."

"Where are they?" Fred inquired.

"Collecting information. They should be back for supper," Wesley replied.

•••

"How was your flight?" Wil asked as he stored Angel's baggage out of the way. After that was done he sat on the edge of the bed to sip his meal—it was hot now, but would be disgustingly cold later.

"Bad," Angel replied, still staring at Wil. "How are you?"

"Better."

Angel finished off his blood and set the mug aside. "I missed you."

"Missed you too," Wil whispered. "It's lonely here."

"Still?" Angel asked, toeing his shoes off.

Wil stood up and set his mug on the dresser. "No." Before he could turn back around, Angel grabbed him, pulling him close.

"Good." Angel buried his face in Wil's neck, relishing the feel of having the blonde so close, in the flesh. Wil moaned softly and melted against him.

"You're tired," Wil stated. It was obvious that Angel hadn't slept during any of his flights. While he would like nothing more than to crawl over Angel and sink inside him, he knew that sleep was more important.

Angel nodded reluctantly. "Yeah. I should sleep." Wil pushed himself away and turned around to help Angel undress. Angel pulled Wil into the bed with him as the pair lay down to sleep the day away. The last thing Angel head was the now-traditional 'Sire' whispered against his shoulder as Wil drifted off.