Story Name: Sulfur And Smoke

Author's Name: KF

K4man123@aol.com

Fandom: A:tS and Brimstone

Disclaimer: Joss and David own the Angel gang. Ethan Reiff and Cyrus Voris own the Brimstone crew. And Warner Brothers has their fangs in both.

Spoilers: First season of Angel through Sanctuary. Whole season of Brimstone

Short Summary: Two avengers search Los Angeles for their prey. But who is the prey and who is the hunter?

Rating: PG-13. Some violence, mostly a lot of jawing.

Note: I really liked the idea of the two men, with similar circumstances brought in conflict. Both shows have the mix of dark angst and sharp humor that seem in sync to a large degree.

Stone's thoughts are offset by //, his thoughts aren't used as narrative in the series, but what the heck.

Prologue

//It feels like I've been in this hotel forever. Some sort of Hotel California in the middle of Los Angeles, the City of Angels. I'd think this was a transfer to purgatory, but this hurts too much.//

//I was supposed to have a reprieve from hell. Instead every day I find myself at the bus stop, looking for the route to her neighborhood. I'm so close to Rosalind, this is killing me. Last night I stood outside her house for hours. I may as well be an eternity away.//

***********

Stone splashed water from the sink on his face. Standing up, he looked in the mirror. The face of another man stood behind him.

The other man had a cold smirk and an affected voice. "Washing again? Well, as they say, cleanliness is next to Godliness they say. Did I ever tell you that was mine? One of my lesser contributions, but an important one I feel."

Stone reached for a towel to wipe his face. "I'm surprised you have a reflection, y'know, not having a soul and all."

The other man feigned an injured air. "Mr. Stone, what do you take me for, a vampire? I'll have you know that I in fact do have a soul. A damned one." He smiled sardonically. "You could say I am THE damned one."

He followed Stone into the other room. "On the other hand, you're beginning to act like a contender. Still moping over the little woman? Can't quite get up the nerve to go up to her door, but not strong enough to walk away." He gave a patronizing chuckle. "I tell you, this anguished separation is pathetic but so amusing I may institute this as part of my regiment."

Stone pulled his sweatshirt over his head. "If I remember correctly, you already had a pretty good program."

The Devil walked in front of him. "Well, a wise man once said that you shouldn't be afraid of learning. What is the current lexicon? I want to be on the edge of emerging technology and procedures. I want you to 'feel the burn.'"

"Believe me, I did." Stone avoided his blazing eyes as he finished dressing. "I hate to interrupt this heart to heart, but I'm sure you're a busy man."

"That's what I like to hear, down to business." His visitor's voice took a conspiratorial tone. "Now don't tell everyone, but today I feel like playing the role of the redeemer." His smile was cold but his eyes blazed. "I'm giving you the chance to redeem yourself Ezekiel. You'll need a little bit of luck though. Perhaps a lucky rabbit's foot or a four leave clover. I know, how about a blue horseshoe?"

Stone felt in his pockets for a wad of bills. "What is this, life's a bowl of lucky charms? I've had all the luck I need, all bad."

The other shrugged. "Bad, good, it's all a matter of perspective." He pushed up Zeke's left sleeve, scanning the tattooed flesh. "Now where is that pesky symbol? Oh yes, here it is." With his fingertips, he touched a bare path of skin.

Pain rushed from Stone's arm. His reflexes tried to pull away, but the other's hands wouldn't release him. Gasping, Stone heard the sizzle of his skin and saw the smoke curling. The familiar scent of burning flesh filled the room. Flesh and sulfur.

Finally the Devil released his arm, Stone fell to his knees, fighting his nausea.

His face the picture of concern, the devil regarded him. "That's a nasty burn there Ezekiel. I'd put some ice on it." Looking up, Stone found himself alone in his room.

He looked at the throbbing scar on his forearm. What was that? A lobster?

Part 1

It was a regular night at the Blue Horseshoe bar. Gen-X'ers slumming and older working class. A young couple flirted, her teeth pulling on his earring. Finally, they stood and leaning against each other, they weaved their way to the door.

Silently a figure, draped in a long black coat detached from the shadows to follow the couple.

In the alley outside, both the man and woman were laughing loudly. He seemed to be murmuring a suggestion in her ear but she was shaking her head. "Come on baby. Right here, right now."

She giggled. "Ok. But around the corner, we don't want to be too obvious."

The silent figure followed them. A few minutes later, a feminine shriek ripped through the air. The young man with the earring ran out of the shadows. Running for anywhere but here. The man in the long coat calmly emerged under the street lights and turned to walk in the other direction. His eyes were golden, the brow prominent. When he sighed, emphasized canines flashed. He didn't realize that the hunter was now the prey.

//A vampire. Now I've seen everything. It's not enough I'm fighting escaped souls that can tap into hell's power. Now I got to chase down a tall leech in leather. Hopefully they're like snakes. After a big meal like that girl maybe he'll be sluggish. Maybe I can find a sunlamp and a portable battery. With my luck they'll cost thirty seven dollars plus tax.//

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Angel pushed open the door to Angel Investigations. His two associates were reading. Wesley was on the couch studying a large book titled "Demons, a Scatological Prespective." Cordelia was seated at her desk staring at the computer monitor.

She looked up at the sound of his entry. "Well? How'd it go? Did you find Dracula's daughter?"

He hung up his coat. "Yes, I took care of her. Good call on the vision." Despite her light tone, exhaustion and anxiety showed in their faces. "Wesley, why don't you walk Cordelia to her car. Both of you sleep in, we'll open the office after noon tomorrow."

Not wanting her coworker to argue, she pulled Wesley behind her towards the door.

Neither saw a blond man in the darkened hallway.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

//Angel Investigations. You've got to be kidding. I'm dealing with a vampire who's seen "The Hunger" too many times and can't draw. To boot he's got two Renfield's." I wonder which one eats bugs? More importantly, that comment about 'Dracula's daughter,' was the girl the predator? I think I need to backtrack to that bar.//

Chapter 2

"Wesley, just because a girl didn't give you her phone number doesn't mean she doesn't want you to call." Cordelia arched an eyebrow at her friend. "Lissa knew you we work together and knew you could get her number from me."

Wesley sat on the couch, confused by American women. "Somehow I misinterpreted no to mean no."

Cordelia grinned. "Sometimes it means try harder."

"And sometimes it means no." Angel added as he entered the office. "Anything happen up here?"

Cordelia waved her hand. "Besides a sad blow by blow of Wesley's love life, no. Some guy stopped by, wanted to talk about having his wife followed but wasn't sure. He took a card and said he'd think about it." She frowned. "Who'd ever thought your finely honed stalking skills would look good on a resume?"

Angel ignored her comment as he reached for the coffee pot. "Any more bodies in the newspaper?"

Wesley rose from the couch and reached for the paper. "No, just more details on the last victim. The eviscerated and drained body of Pastor Jim Marshall was found behind the First Methodist Church. It's the third of what the papers are calling the steeple killer."

Angel grimaced after he swallowed the coffee. "Cordelia, I think we can try some new grounds. Coffees not supposed to be green and fuzzy."

Flipping her hair, she smiled. "Gee Angel, those are new grounds, it's the filter that's old. Thought a switch would be nice."

Putting aside the mug, Angel continued. "I think our budget can afford new grounds and a new filter, just this once. Wesley, was there any deviation in m.o.?"

The tall Englishman shook his head. "The details in the paper are sparse. Perhaps Detective Lockley could be of assistance?"

Angel nodded. "You drive, I'll hide underneath the tarp."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kate Lockley had seen more violent homicides than she cared to count. Still, every now and then a case would take away her breath. She stared at the bloody and mutilated corpse of the reverend and tried to ignore the musty smell of dried blood. She used to wonder how mankind could be so depraved. After the revelations of the past few months she wondered what was worse, man's ability to destroy or the shadows that lurked.

"Kate." She jerked her head at the sound. Only one person would use that name at a crime scene, that is, if you considered him a person.

"Angel, Wesley." She greeted the two men in the shadow of the church. "I'm assuming by your presence that this falls under your particular realm of expertise."

"We want to find the killer, same as you." The vampire answered. It bothered him that despite their prior work together, the blonde detective still viewed him as another criminal. "Is it the same guy?"

She took a deep breath. Whatever her feelings, if the perp wasn't human then she was out of her league. Against her better judgement she nodded towards the bundled body. "So far it looks like the fourth victim of the steeple killer. Reverend Waters, a respected man of the cloth and a neighborhood advocate, found eviscerated and drained. The major organs have been removed. Can't say anything about the weapon but it was obviously sharp. The M.E. tentatively places the time of death at two p.m.which rules you out as a suspect."

Wesley didn't have to see Angel wince to know her insinuation had hurt. "Can you tell us anything that's not in the papers? Any markings or position of the body that could indicate anything?"

She looked around quickly. "Ok, you didn't hear this from me, but his hands were bound together, as if in prayer." Her voice was apprehensive. "We don't know what it means but given the savage nature of the murder and the obvious religious overtones, we're assuming the killer is mocking God."

Angel stared at the heavy object now being loaded into the truck. There was something familiar he just couldn't place. A faint burning odor. "Or they're reliving something. Something that happened to them." He looked at the woman he still considered an ally. "Thank you Kate, if I find anything that you can use, I'll call but I can't promise it'll be something to put in your reports."

She inclined her head. "You know me, I'm just a sucker for a good story."

************

//This is getting stranger and stranger. This vampire is acting like he's Batman. At least he's not IN the police force. That would too out there even for TV. This blonde detective that he's working with, I wonder if Ash had knows her. She'd get a kick out of this kid. No question that she's human, anyone sent to hell would have a better attitude and less of a chip on her shoulder. I don't think she's got a bead on these crimes, she doesn't have the perspective of staring at eternal flames to get a feel for these things.//

//I should get out of here before someone wants a closer look at my badge.//

//These crimes, in the daylight and the bound hands. If it wasn't a vampire, what happened to the blood?//

Part 3

Stone looked at the chalk outline on the concrete. A good cop developed a sixth sense that could smell a lie and single out a perp in a crowded bar. And that spidey sense was tingling like crazy.

"Hey you, this is a crime scene!" A low, rough voice rumbled through the now deserted alley.

Standing up, Stone sighed. The Devil stood in front of him, his smirk radiating. "Funny, one of these days we'll have to get you on stage at the Improv."

The ancient one looked up at the stained glass windows of the church. "No thank you, I'll leave the comedy routines for the professionals like the good reverend. I could never come up with forty minutes of routine and believe me," He began to chuckle. "those sermons were hysterical."

Stone ignored the sarcasm. "So tell me about this vampire, Angel. He's not quite what I expected. That girl he killed last night, she was another vampire, wasn't she? And working with the police investigating a killer? That's not what you expect from an escaped soul from hell."

"Is that the pot calling the kettle black Mr. Stone?" The unearthly grin seemed to glow. "You have the opportunity to dispatch of the cruelest creatures it's been my fortune to know. My boy Angel, also known under his nomme de guerre as Angelus, is very special. A 'fallen Angel,' I'd like to think I've been a role model for him. Brought over two hundred years ago he was the scourge of Europe. Even in recent years, he's cut a trail through California Bundy would be proud of. Of course he's not as crude as Theodore, but he's renowned for his refined hunting and the ingenious torturing of his victims. Not to mention his legendary mementos. A romantic at heart very much like myself."

He considered the policeman. "He's legendary even among my flock. I'm surprised that you never met him in your time with me but then again, you never did come to the freshman mixers."

Stone stared at him. "How long was he in hell? Are all vampires down there at one time or another?"

The Devil began to walk away. "Oh no, like I said, Angel is very special. Did I tell you he tried to end the world? You gotta love the initiative! Despite his best efforts this teeny bopper that he had seduced and then tormented sent him to hell. Effectively saving the world, and yada, yada, yada. Anyway, he recently left my loving arms and has returned to Earth under the mistaken belief that he is now as heavenly as his namesake. Trying to atone for his sins if you can believe it. All for naught though. His soul is still damned."

Stone followed a few steps. "How do I kill him? From the Saturday morning movies from my childhood, I should use a wooden stake to his heart, but what about his eyes?"

The other didn't alter his stride. "Now now, what would be the fun if I told you. If I might make a suggestion, I'd go get a pizza, with lots of garlic."

The figure vanished.

Zeke contemplated the chalk outline again. "Dad always like you better."

Part 4

Kate Lockley was having a bad day. Another serial killer on the loose and little or no cooperation from her fellow cops. She tried to ignore the digs and snickers, it had been bad enough making detective at her age. Now every time she arrived at a crime scene she was greeted with "So what do you think, Agent Scully?"

Life wasn't fair but at least there was happy hour.

"Can I buy the next round?" She turned to the blond, attractive man sliding onto the stool next to her. Since this was a cop bar, she assumed it was another officer but not one she could place.

He offered a hand. "Detective Zeke Stone. Saw you behind the Episcopalian church this afternoon. You landed the ugly dog."

Kate shook his hand. "I guess that's one word for it. Fourth victim and no closer to pinpointing a suspect." She peered into his face. "I think I've been looking too long at this. What did you see today?"

The man shrugged. "Someone with a grudge against God or at least the clergy. Interesting though, from what I've read all of the victims wore clerical collars. That's kind of unusual in this day and time isn't it? I mean, even the nuns stopped looking like penguins. Is it part of the killer's pattern or is he targeting strangers with the proper markings?"

She nodded. "We think he sees them as emissaries of God. What we don't know though is how it's done or what they do with the blood and organs. We haven't been able to find a trail or any indication of what they do with it." She silently considered several possibilities not in the Homicide Primer.

"The occult, you mean." Stone picked up the unspoken thread of conversation. "Do they consume everything right there or wrap it up for a midnight mass. Either way, I don't see how they do it without leaving a bigger mess." He took a long draught from his beer. "Kind of begs the question."

When he didn't continue Kate pushed. "What question?"

Stone turned and smiled sadly. "Not one I'm sure you want to hear. Could this be something unknown, something not human? "

Kate laughed nervously. "You mean like the boogeyman? I'm not sure I want to put out an APB on that."

He smiled indulgently. "Come one, you bang on enough trash cans, you're going find something more than rats. Like that dark fellow you were talking to at the crime scene. He didn't look like he went to the police academy and I didn't hear about any witnesses."

Kate nearly choked on her drink. "Angel? No, definitely not police material. He's a private dick and believe me the description kind of fits." She looked away. "I've worked with him on a couple of cases and he's got great instincts. A bit of vigilante, but he knows when to step back."

Stone pressed. "Do you believe in them, vigilantes?"

"I guess there's a time and place when we can only do so much." She pushed her hands through her hair, she'd found a grey yesterday and wondered how many more she'd get from this case. "You're right, there's stuff out there the police don't even want to know about. Someone's got to be there for the fringe. I guess people like Angel have their purpose but I don't have to like them."

"But do you trust him not to cross the line?"

She shrugged. "If you go out too far, the lines disappear." She looked at him again. "Tell me detective, this isn't your beat and I've never seen you before. Is this interest personal or professional?"

He smiled. "C'mon, detective. You know the lines disappear for cops too. We all want to bring the killer to justice."

She stared, something about him reminded her of Angel. "But I want him held accountable by the law, not some personal judgement of guilt." She drained her glass. "Thanks for the drink. I think I'll go be morose at home."

Stone watched her leave the bar. A good kid for the most part and probably a good cop. Despite her hesitancy, she trusted Angel. Stone wondered if he could trust the vampire as well.

Part 5

The brunette entered the coffee shop. She smiled at the upscale clientele before turning to pull a tall man through the doorway. "Angel, come on! You complain about my coffee so let's get a couple of mocha's and pretend we're like, normal people for a few minutes."

Her companion surveyed the people arguing over steaming cups and sighed. "Cordelia, believe me, we will never be normal."

She whacked his arm. "That's because I'm a dark goddess and seer extraordinaire! By the way, you're buying."

Angel stared at the slackers and professionals around him. People worried over their senior projects and their 401(k) enrollment. Young people like Buffy.

"You're doing it again." A tart voice broke his concentration. "Can't you go anywhere without your portable angst portfolio?"

He smiled an apology to his friend. "I'm sorry. This isn't a normal situation for me."

"What, no demons or no dark corners to brood in?"

Cordelia noticed Angel staring at a young blonde talking animatedly at a nearby table. Buffy angst. Sighing, she pulled him to a table. "I'll tell you what, for exactly one hour you can whine, bitch and rattle on about Buffy. Then that's the last I want to hear of her for six months. And no brooding in the office either!"

Chuckling, Angel smiled at her. If there was ever an opportunity to do undercover work at Starbuck's, he'd definitely send Cordelia. Maybe then they could drink the coffee in the office. "Did I ever tell you about the first time I saw her? I was still tormenting myself because of my past and struggling with the implications of having a soul-"

"And that's changed how?"

"Cordelia, every time you interrupt I'll start over again. Now at the time I was still trying to understand..."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I know she's moved on, I know she's happy, but I'm not sure I really believe it." Emotionally fatigued, Angel ran his hand through his dark hair. "Maybe she is, but I doubt it could match what we have, I mean had."

Cordelia stifled a yawn. "Look Angel, a girl never forgets her first and believe me, she won't. The point is she has to move on. She can't spend the rest of her life jonesing for you. She's played the widow before, like when you went all fangy on us and when she sent you to hell. I don't know if she can handle the whole farewell scene again. And by the way, your hour was officially up fifteen minutes ago, the overtime's cause you bought the biscotti."

Angel failed to grin. "I knew it wasn't going to be fair. She gets to move on with her life and fall in love again. I can't, and it's harder than I thought it would be." Sighing he met her concerned hazel eyes. "Saying goodbye that weekend, knowing that I was refusing my chance to be human and spend my life with her, it was the most difficult thing I've ever done."

She reached across the table to take his hand before speaking in a soft voice. "Angel, you know it was the right thing to do. You've done so much, helped so many people since then, and they'll be so many more. You have to know it was the right thing for both of you. As much as you hate it, the world needs a bloodsucker with a soul, not another Buffy boy accessory."

Angel pulled his hands away and stared at the table. "It may have been the right thing to do, but it doesn't make it hurt any less."

"Like Doyle."

Angel looked at his companion. Although she rarely mentioned the half demon, he knew his death had cut her deeply.

Now it was Cordelia who stared at the tabletop. "He was all brave and interesting and noble. And dead."

He breathed deeply, steeling himself for the next comment. "It was his choice Cordelia, he wanted to make a difference."

She continued to avoid his gaze. "I know it was the right thing to do, I mean, he played the martyr and saved all of us, but it doesn't make it any easier."

The wound had not healed for either of them. "It was for himself too. He died knowing who and what he was capable of. Doyle discovered that he had in him the strength to be more than he realized."

"Yeah, well unfortunately we saw everything he had in him." Her flippant reply belied the bitterness.

Angel stood. "He talked about 'the good fight.' Well Doyle fought and won. If nothing else we should honor his memory and his choice. Now let's get you home."

After they left the man at the next table lowered his copy of Sports Illustrated and stood up.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

//Four dollars for a cup of coffee. Things up here really have gone to hell in a handbasket. Not only that, but the service is more attentive and less snippy down there. Not to mention a lot more enthusiastic.//

//A vampire in love with a vampire slayer. Ironic isn't the word. I'm sure our mutual acquaintance laughed his horns off.//

//I can't say I don't know what he's feeling. Rosalind. I love her and I truly do hope that she's moving on with her life. But it will never make it any easier for me. She's mourned and buried me. She got to say goodbye. I don't have that luxury. Like Angel, I'm standing here on the sidewalk looking at the store window. Everything I could ever want is behind the glass, but I can never touch it.//

Part 6

Stone walked back to his hotel, lost in the events of the past few days.

"Hey buddy, spare some change?" Seated on the curb, a mound of rags stood up with an outstretched hand. The hand swept up and shook off the blanket, revealing a familiar face.

"Down and out in Los Angeles. Hope you didn't overextend yourself in the stock market." Stone commented dryly.

His companion smiled maliciously. "Don't worry about me, I have excellent retirement plans, I don't plan on retiring. You on the other hand, may be moving on to a new career. And there will be no golden parachute when you fall."

Zeke ignored the threat. "Angel. There's something different about him isn't there. He's genuinely trying to atone. He feels remorse."

The Devil lost his smirk as he stepped closer. "He should feel remorse, he's done some terrible things. Your 'Big Brother' project hasn't quite earned his halo. He was offered the chance to regain his soul, his conscience. Loose that wonderful murderous drive he has but he refused. Snapped the neck of the Good Samaritan trying to reach out to him and left her in her lover's bed. That hardly sounds like someone looking for redemption."

The soul hunter hesitated, remembering Brian, a young boy abused by life. "But it wasn't him. He talks about that half in the third person, Angelus. You're judging one personality for the actions of another."

The other snorted. "There you go again. Haven't you learned already that you can't separate multiple personalities?" He spoke slowly, as if to a child. "Regardless of the cause, the identities are always aware of each other. The personalities are integrated. Even the vampire admits this."

Stone looked at the ancient one. "Is that was he is, a bad case of m.p.d? You take no responsibility for the demon?"

The Devil laughed. "No more than I take credit for Dauber or Pol Pot. Believe me, I'd like to but the patron can not take credit for the work of the artiste."

He clapped the policeman's shoulder. "My advice? Stop projecting your personal issues onto Angel. You don't hear him asking for forgiveness, do you? He's not born again or logging time in the confessional unlike some I could mention. He has a conscience, but it doesn't change his standing. He belongs to me."

Stone stepped away, shaking his head. "He has a soul, he's being directed by something other than his guilt. What's really going on? He wasn't part of our original bargain."

His adversary sauntered down the street. "Our bargain Mr. Stone, is set at my discretion. I can add or take off anyone I wish."

Stone followed him. "But you can't, can you? Anymore than you can tell me that this steeple killer is just window dressing."

The other stopped and walked back, applauding. "Good boy Ezekiel, I knew you'd pick that up. You know, every time I have my doubts about your abilities you astound me with your deductions."

Stone stepped to the curb, staring away. "That's my real job here, isn't it, the clergy deaths? You're trying to sneak in a two-for-one deal."

Glaring, the fallen angel stood with his face inches away from Stone. "Your job, Mr. Stone is to dispatch all wayward souls back to my loving embrace. Fail me and I will make the fifteen years with me seem like a schoolboy wet dream." Moving away he wandered into the sudden fog. "Good hunting Van Helsing!"

Zeke stared at the empty street. "Killjoy."

Part 7

Wesley looked up at the sound of the elevator.

Scanning the office the vampire took in Wesley's slumped form on the couch. "Any luck connecting the victims?"

Wesley straightened his long form before answering. "So far nothing. The police have run down every lead. I've been unable to find anything resembling the killer in any of our sources."

The vampire sat on the corner of the unoccupied desk. "Where's Cordelia?"

The Englishman smiled. "Procuring your weekly nourishment."

Angel matched his expression. "Lost the coin toss again, huh. One of these days she's going to pick up on that palmed quarter."

Wesley cleared his throat. "Well until that day I'm assuming that I can depend on your discretion. I must confess that Cordelia handles the handi-pack cooler with more grace than I can manage." The former watcher did not hesitate to follow Angel into battle, but the cold sloshing of purchased blood still made him blanche.

His companion chuckled. "I'm not very happy about either, but I don't manage starvation with grace. At least this way we can all sleep knowing my dietary source."

Wesley looked up. "Do you miss it? Drinking from your victims?" He flushed under Angel's piercing glance. "I only mention it because you've talked before about the hunt. I apologize if my comment was inappropriate."

The other sighed and looked off at a distant point. "It was never the prize, it was the chase. And I was good at it. Every one was unique, it added to the thrill. I could get drunk off of their emotions, the fear, the panic. Sometimes I craved the tangy flavor of their surrender, other times, I wanted the sweetness of terror." He shook himself. "Never again." The firmness of his voice resonated through the shadowed office.

Wesley stared at the vampire. "I've said it before Angel, I don't envy you. To live daily with that hunger must be a torment."

Angel smiled sadly. "Not so tough. I just remember their faces. Guilt is a pretty strong inhibitor." He slid off the desk to stare at the drawn blinds behind Cordelia's chair. Beyond thin metal and glass was a world he could never touch. "I don't know sometimes, Wesley. Something brought me back from hell with my soul intact and guides me. I just wish I knew who's behind the curtain and what they expect of me."

The former watcher stood and walked behind him. "What of these Oracles that you've spoken of, do they give any indication who is ultimately pulling the strings?"

Angel shook his head. "They've referred to the Auguries, but I don't think they could give me the correct time of day. It's all abstract and vague for them. Someone or something else directs me to specific people in trouble at specific times, but it's so elusive."

Wesley gripped his shoulder, a rare show of affection between the men. "Then you must trust that force, Angel. Something or someone has a plan for you. Just like us mere mortals, you don't have all the answers to your life, but you do have a purpose, a calling."

His comrade-at-arms smiled at the blinds. He could feel the warmth of the life-giving sun. "Thank you Wesley."

Outside, someone dropped the mail they had been sorting and walked down the empty hall.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

//Something's seriously wrong in the state of Denmark. Either this guy lost his marbles with his preference for garlic bread or he's been shanghaied like me.//

//Maybe I am projecting too much but it does sound like we're in the same boat. He's trying to atone for his past in the weirdest work release program I've ever heard of outside mine. He's got a chance, and no matter how thin that chance, he's going to take it.//

Part 8

Walking down the street Zeke considered spending the last of his "per diem" on another outrageously expensive cup of coffee. Then again, nothing had the smoky flavor of police coffee, preferably days old and as thick as a girlfriend's alibi.

He whirled around at the rustle of fabric behind him. There with the manic gleam in his eyes of a trick-or- treater was the Devil. Tied around his neck w/ strings was a black cape, lined with red satin. "Hetho Ethekiel!" His voice lisped around a set of dime store vampire fangs.

Chuckling, Stone lifted the corner of the cape. "You know, you shouldn't be out alone. Where's your mommy and daddy? Did the big kids steal your candy?"

Pretending insult, the other removed his gag teeth. "At least you could appreciate my efforts, do you know long I've waited to pull this out of my wardrobe?"

Stone continued to tease. "I don't know. Something tells me you were out last Halloween in this get-up. Complete with your Unicef box."

Piercing eyes bored into Zeke's face.

"Seems like you're the one out for charity tonight Ezekiel. Having second thoughts about our friend with the liquid diet?"

Zeke walked with him. "I'm having a lot of thoughts. Like he's working for the other side, isn't he? He didn't escape from hell, he was paroled, the same as me."

The other concurred. "Oh yes, the worst case of interoffice poaching I've seen in ages. I tried to file a complaint but you would not believe the forms." His voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. "Between you and me, bureaucracy is the true hell."

Stone ignored the joke. "He's running around here playing Batman, and you want me to do an end run around some paperwork. How's that going to play with upper management?"

The fallen angel shrugged. "Like any board, they're more concerned with the bottom line. My concern is the productivity of my division."

Stone snorted. "You'll excuse me if I don't get excited over your bonus plan, office politics always bored me."

The ancient one stopped walking. "I'm getting very tired of your attitude Mr. Stone. Must I continually remind you that there are thousands, millions, who would love another bite at the apple, so to speak? You are very replaceable."

"Then tell me about the steeple killer. The neat, compact crime screen, the folded hands, it's a woman, isn't it? Someone who suffered at the hands of the church and is looking for their pound of flesh."

Smiling, the Devil bowed with a flourish of his hand. "Brilliant intuition as usual detective. Sarah Good was a very misunderstood girl in her time, well, what teenage girls aren't? But her natural curiosity and affections for an elder man, namely myself, was not very popular in her time. Then again anything that wasn't Godly or 'goodly' and wearing a ridiculous pilgrim hat wasn't."

Zeke stared at a cat scurrying across the sidewalk. "Pilgrim. The Salem Witch Trials. Executed as a witch by the church witch hunters with their black robes and white collars."

"Yes, she despised those hypocritical, pompous men always preaching a higher moral standard but rarely practicing." He folded his hands together, the fingers pointing heavenward. "Praying for her immortal soul but secretly damning her. Said she's sup with a long spoon. Well she's shown then now, she hasn't even had to use a fork." Now he whirled in a circle, the cape held up to the blazing eyes. "Do you think if I run by the blood banks, ask for a withdrawal they'll appreciate my costume?"

Stone stared at the empty sidewalk. "Some people never grow up."

Part 9

Angel's dark expression matched the night outside as he entered the office. "Where's Wesley?"

Cordelia waved a hand vaguely. "Who cares? I think he's out doing more research on our little communicant. Said there may be a tie between the order of victims and the churches. By the way, those invoices didn't go out today, out of stamps."

Angel shook his head. "You know Cordelia, if you would think about getting stamps before we run out, it would make it easier to mail things."

"Yeah, well. Life is tough and then you die. And in the I'm-Angel- please-torture-me director's edition, your girlfriend sends you to hell." Cordelia seemed to be focusing on a distant point. "Gotta be a fun place. Lots of folks you never thought you'd see again and always someone to, oh!" Doubling over, she clutched at her head.

Angel barely caught her as she tipped forward out of the chair. Easing to the floor, he waited for the tremors ceased through her slight form. This time, her anxiety seemed to grow rather than subside after the vision faded.

Still holding her, Angel gently asked. "What did you see?" When she didn't answer he became concerned. Angel had seen Cordelia scared, confused, desperate, even in the throes of raw grief. Nothing had reduced her to silence. He tried to gather her close but now she was pushing away, scuttling across the floor to sit huddled against the wall.

Maintaining his distance, Angel persisted. "Cordelia, whatever it was, we can handle it. What was it? What did you see?"

Pushing the locks of hair out of her face, she slowly faced him. "Hell. I was in hell."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Angel refilled the mug with whiskey for the shuddering girl. Cordelia didn't reach for the bottle after a vision like Doyle, but then she had never had such an intense experience. She sat, dazed, on the couch. He had brought up a blanket fearing shock, but she rejected the warm fabric.

He sat crouched in front of her, willing to wait till dawn when Cordelia finally met his stare. Her eyes are so haunted, he thought. Someone her age shouldn't know what she's seen. No one should. Realizing nothing could soften the next question he gently asked, "What did you see?"

Focusing on her mug, she spoke hesitantly. "I'm didn't really 'see' anything. I felt it. I was somewhere, on fire, but I wasn't burning. Not like when you burn yourself on the stove or furnace. It kept hurting. And it didn't stop. I mean, if you get burned bad enough, you're not supposed to feel anything, but this wouldn't stop. I felt it on my skin, through me, all the way to my bones. I could almost feel them crack from the heat. My skin, it was peeling-" Her voice had risen, a note of hysteria ringing in the tone.

"Cordelia!" Angel gripped her shoulders, hoping to bring her back from the after images of the vision. He sat next to her and forced her face up to his own. "You're not burning. You're ok. You're here in the office. You're safe."

She sighed and leaned against him. He could feel the rapid beat of her heart. "I was burning Angel, I can still feel it." She looked at her open palm. "My blood still feels like it's bubbling." Setting her cup aside she laid her head on his chest. Angel began to stroke her back in soothing circles. "But that's not what's going to keep me up for the next month."

In a monotone she continued. "I saw people, dead, alive, it didn't matter. And every one of them told me what I'd done to them. Why I was there. I don't even know what they were saying or who they were, but they were judging me."

Angel felt his already cold body temperature drop as he recognized the image. He completed her narrative from a dark memory. "And the worst was, you knew that this was justice. No matter what you said or whatever you could do, it would never be enough. You belonged here. You deserved this. You were damned." As the memories flashed in his mind he could almost smell the sulfur and brimstone. He sniffed. It must be a subconscious suggestion.

He felt her arms tighten around his torso, comforting them both. "Yes. Always and forever. Amen." As she lifted a tear-stricken face she gently raised a hand to wipe away her friend's tears. "Angel, is that what it's like?"

Angel bent his head but couldn't meet her eyes. Of all his memories, these were the ones he dreaded most. The ones he had never meant to share. Hearing the slowing heartbeat of the young mortal in arms, Angel felt a fresh wave of guilt. One more thing to atone for. His presence had brought this on Cordelia, a pure soul.

Feeling her body relax Angel spoke. "Cordelia, I'm sorry. This shouldn't have happened. I don't know how, but you've had one of my nightmares. I don't know why the Powers that Be would do this to you, but I'm sorry."

Small hands pushed against his chest. Looking down he caught her hazel eyes. "Hey, look Lord of the Angst, I've dealt with enough hellish things in my life, I may as well know the source. Besides, you didn't give me this stupid vision, that credits goes to the Powers That Be." Shoving her hair out of her face, she huffed. "Besides, if that's as close to hell as I get, I'm not going to complain. Almost enough to make you go to church."

Angel admired her regained composure. "Still, though. Even unconsciously I'm haunting the innocent-"

"Hey!" She interrupted. "I may be a lot of things, but I've never claimed to be that! I don't think anyone in show business can."

A smile tugging at his mouth, he rose from the couch. "Believe me Cordelia, you are. Why don't I take you home? After that third drink you shouldn't be driving."

Groaning at the effort of standing up, she rose and gathered her things.

"Cordelia?" She looked up at him. "Take the rest of the week off. Go live the non eternal flame life."

"And next week." She prompted.

Angel was now grinning broadly. "And next week." He confirmed. Maybe with Cordelia around he would atone for his sins.

As she turned off the lights, a figure on the other side of the wall moved deeper into the shadows.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

//I wasn't expecting this. The girl must have ESP or something. If she wants to get into show business she should try the Psychic Friends Network or whatever that was on TV last night. She's flaky enough. //

//Poor girl, she works for a guy who's just as likely to drink her blood than coffee. From what I had the other day, I'm guessing her blood would be less caustic. So would battery acid.//

//Still, she seems like she's a good enough kid. Wonder how she ended up with him. He must care for her if he puts up with her. Tactful she's not. Did like the 'Lord of the Angst' comment though.//

Part 10

Zeke entered the elevator in his hotel. Suddenly, there was another passenger in the empty car. "I wish I could put some bells around your neck, maybe a little cat collar." Stone remarked.

The other smirked, his eyes lighting the dim car. "I'm where I need to be Ezekiel. And right now I need you to confirm that you will destroy the vampire."

Punching the lobby button, Zeke shook his head. "I'm not sure I can. He's doing the same thing I am, working for a second chance."

The Devil stepped behind him. His low voice hissed in Zeke's ear. "Who do you think you are? Neither you or that fanged pinup model have any right to declare who is and who is not worthy of mercy. You are both damned souls found guilty of unforgivable crimes. It doesn't matter how many brownie points you score with my brothers or stoned Oracles, you are still MINE."

Stone turned and looked at him. "But he's not, is he? Call it the Powers that Be or free agency, but he's not under your thumb anymore and it's driving you mad."

The fallen angel stared. No power on heaven or earth could have eyes that blazed that coldly. Suddenly the Devil shrugged "Well, you're right about one thing, free agency has ruined the game, just ask the NFL."

The elevator stopped but the door remained closed.

Solemnly, the other continued. "As far as Angel goes, it's a 'damned if you do, damned if you don't' situation. Whether you do or don't kill him, he will still be damned."

Zeke sighed. "Shouldn't you be in Hollywood, trying to convince someone to sell you their soul? From what I've seen on TV lately, you seem to have a bumper crop."

His companion laughed. "Another legend in popular culture. Four hundred years ago someone feels guilty about the choices they made and I get the blame. Their lives are a house of cards and yet they construct this mythology where I barter the unconceivable for the intangible. Typical human hubris, 'the devil made me do it.'"

He leered in Stone's face. "Let me let you in on a personal secret my boy." He spoke slowly for emphasis. "I never, ever pay for it."

The former cop chuckled. "Of course, nobody does, yet the vice squad never has a slow night."

The Devil stopped smiling. "Think of it Ezekiel, if I were bargaining for all of the soul's in this town alone, I'd never have a moment for these chats. And I do so value our time together. No, Mr. Stone, I don't stoop to any vulgar peddling of fame or fortune. No juggling of presidential campaigns or A's on the math test. No need. God's greatest gift to you, and subsequently to me, was free will. Every soul that's crossed my threshold has done so by their choice. They've chosen to hold up a liquor store, kill their own family or even shoot their wife's rapist. The truth is Mr. Stone, I don't even have to give it away, I've got more new souls every day than I know what to do with."

Stone stabbed at the 'door open' button. "In that case don't let me keep you from inventory. If you finish early I've got some tweezers and know a really big beach. Now if you excuse me, I have a date with a witch." Stepping out of the elevator, he walked towards the hotel door, aware of the eyes burning into his back.

Part 11

"Angel? I'm leaving for the night. I've left a map upstairs outlining the churches if you'd like to look at it!" Wesley stood at the top of the stairs but didn't hear a response. Sighing, he walked towards the door. Despite the long hours they were no closer to finding the steeple killer and the stress was showing on both men.

Shutting the door, Wesley left. A few minutes later a tall figure picked the lock and entered the office. Seeing the map on the desk he picked up a marker and drew a series of crude lines before exiting.

The elevator rumbled as Angel emerged from his apartment. Wesley meant well, but they were getting nowhere. Picking up the map he stared, hoping an answer would emerge.

A few minutes later he dropped the map. Suddenly the pattern was obvious. The lines between the four churches formed a figure, a downward pentagram. And the missing point was a Catholic Church, the next target.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Father Carlos waved hello at a couple of parishioners closing up their stores as he neared the rectory. Life could be difficult, but that was no excuse not to be pleasant.

"Father? Can you help me?" A young girl in ragged clothes called out from the alley. "I've got little brother. He sprained his ankle getting away from this guy yesterday and I don't think he can walk. Can you carry him? He's just back here."

The priest was already nodding as he followed her.

The alley was empty. Father Carlos turned to the young girl. "Where is your brother my daughter?"

Smiling, she came closer. "In a graveyard, where he died centuries ago. Long after your kind condemned me to hell." She extended her hand, the nails suddenly long.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The smell of fresh human blood was the clarion call that drew Angel into the darkness behind the rectory.

He saw the figure of a girl, crouched over a man, his eyes staring at the stars and hands tied together, as if in prayer against this violation.

Disgusted by the sounds of her mouth he approached the killer. "I'm not sure what's worse, being a messy eater or being careless."

Seeing the intruder, Sarah hissed and rose from her victim. Suddenly she was gone.

Angel fell backward at the impact of her body. How did that happen? She had been right in front of him.

Unseen, She laughed. "Typical. See a girl capable of making decisions and you judge me. How do you know anything about me?"

Angel struggled to his feet. "I know that you're about to die."

Sara emerged from his left, her hands raised. Angel saw the long nails glitter. "I don't understand, why are you fighting me brother? There's enough for both of us here."

Pulling the sword from the scabbard he lunged.

Sarah leapt to the side but not in time to avoid the blade slicing into her arm. Staring at the smoking wound she panted. "I knew we would meet one day avenger. But why? We're both free. We can do what we want with these helpless mortals. The world is ours, we can eat all we want."

He stared at the apparent teenager. "You should be careful, I've been known to eat what I catch." He pressed his attack towards the girl.

She sidestepped him this time and grasped his waist. "If you won't share, then you can't have any!"

Angel felt himself being lifted. What was this being with this deceptive strength? He felt a dip as her arms bent. Realizing that he was about to be thrown, he twisted his body. As he felt himself being thrown he plunged the sword at her head.

The metal of the trash bin echoed his crash. Head ringing from the echoes, Angel looked up at the shrill scream.

Sarah was holding her hands to her face. Orange smoke streamed between her fingers.

Transfixed by the sight, Angel struggled to his feet as the girl seemed to vaporize in a rush of light and smoke. As if in benediction, the world erupted in rain.

He shook his head. Perhaps it was Cordelia's recent vision, but the after image of her destruction evoked memories of hell. His flesh smoking from the licking flames. The writhing souls screaming beside him.

Angel retrieved the sword. He had no idea what that was, but he really hoped she didn't have any sisters. Pulling his long coat around his length he limped down the alleyway. One more predator destroyed, one more innocent lost.

Carrying the weight of his two hundred years he sighed as the sheets of water fell over him. Tilting his head up, Angel felt the drops on his face. The rain had washed away the smell of smoke and blood. Feeling suddenly refreshed he looked at the lighted cross on top of the church as he remembered the snow one morning in Sunnydale. Holding Buffy's hand, Angel had been swept up in the grace of something beyond his understanding. Tonight he felt that blessing again, almost a baptism.

Out of the shadows another figure walked in the opposite direction, holding a gun. Stone stopped, groaning at the stinging on his forearm. Pulling up the sleeve of his trenchcoat, he grunted as a cryptic symbol faded from his skin.

Almost in afterthought, he looked at the newer scar towards his palm. The raindrops blurred the abstract figure. Dark rivets trailed over his arm until the water ran clear. Stone stared at the unblemished skin before continuing his way down the rain washed alley.

The two warriors, sprung from hell, walked away from each other. Perhaps one day they would fight side by side. It was enough that they had both emerged victorious.

~~~~~~~~~~~

//Of everything I've seen over the years, I never thought I'd make an ally in a vampire. I'm sorry we met this way but I'm not sorry that we're on the same side. //

//Love your Buffy, hold her close in her heart. I know your pain. The one thing that matters most is right in front of you, but you can't touch it. You can lie to everyone around you but you can't lie to yourself. You will never stop loving her. You will never stop hurting.//

//I envy you your strength. If I had Rosalind in my arms for a day I don't know if I could let go forever. I don't have much faith in anything anymore, but I do have faith in my love of Rosalind. One day I'll be with her and you will be with your Buffy.//

//Tell your friend Cordelia that I'm sorry. She didn't have a vision of your memories in hell, they were mine. I hope one day we can all forget.//

//As your friend Doyle told you, fight the good fight. You're not alone. Maybe one day we'll sit in a bar somewhere and shoot a game of pool. Talk about the good ole days down below and how much we don't miss it. Whine about the halfway house programs we're in and complain about the work. Of course we'll both be lying. Every day brings us closer to redemption, and that's worth every damned soul, every slimy demon we face.//

//Take care Angel, even if we never meet face to face, I consider you my friend. //

//May the angels, the ones above, watch over us both.//

FIN