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Plans
 
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Disclaimer: Someone else’s characters.
 
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Angel and Wesley finally decided they needed to pull the others into their confidence. They met at Wesley’s apartment, in the interest of security. You never knew quite who was listening at the office, given the number of supernatural staff members. Fred and Lorne were the last to arrive. Gunn moved over to make room for them on Wesley’s couch.
 
“Just like old times,” said Gunn. Regarding his suit and tie he ruefully added, “Except for the corporate duds, that is.”
 
Fred smiled a little at that, and then asked, “What’s this about, Angel? Why couldn’t we meet at the office?”
 
Angel ran his hand through his hair as he sat down. Taking a deep breath, he told them about the visit from Whistler, the prophesy, and the experience with the medium. They all listened in rapt silence as he described how Buffy’s spirit had manifested and begged for help. When he finished, he looked up. “We need to bring them back.”
 
“Whoa there, cupcake,” said Lorne. “This is going to take some serious mojo. How are we going to pull this off without alerting the Senior Partners?”
 
“I don’t know,” said Angel. “That’s why I called you here. I need your help. We need a plan.”
 
Fred spoke up, “How did they bring Darla back? It was some big spell, wasn’t it?”
 
“I was looking into that,” said Wesley. “It appears that they used several of their most powerful staff witches and warlocks to pull her soul from the afterlife. It required concentrated effort over a couple of months.”
 
“We don’t have that sort of time,” said Angel, getting up to pace once more. “They are being tortured. We have no idea how time moves there. The longer they are in that place, the more damaged they are going to be. What good will it be to bring them back and have them be irrevocably insane? I remember coming back from a hell dimension – it was… “ Angel shuddered. He couldn’t put into words how it felt, to be so out of control, to have to fight that feral madness.
 
“So, we’re not going to be able to use the staff witches if we want to keep this quiet,” Gunn reasoned. “And it’s going to take a lot of power. We’ve got two people to bring back at the same time.”
 
“The White Room.” Everyone stopped, and looked at Wesley. “The conduit. We need to find a way to access the conduit. There is enough power there to do whatever spell is needed. We just need to figure out a way to use that power for our purposes.”
 
Gunn whistled. “The conduit? That’s not gonna be easy. It’s not like you can just walk up there and plug in an extension cord.”
 
“Perhaps some sort of portal,” Fred surmised. Portals to other dimensions were something Fred was far too familiar with. “If we could figure out a way to latch on to where they were exactly, we could produce some sort of focused interdimensional disturbance that we could pull them through.”
 
“That could work,” agreed Wesley. “We’re going to need to do some research on how that can be done.”
 
“Hang on a minute, folks,” Lorne interrupted. “We’re going to be drawing a big target on all our backs doing this. We’re using company resources to do something the Senior Partners are going to have some serious issues with. Are we prepared to take the consequences?”
 
No one spoke for a while. Then Angel said quietly, “If anyone wants to stay out of this, I understand. I’m not going to force you to put yourself at risk to fix something I broke. But lately I feel like I’ve lost my way, lost the mission. I need to make this right.”
 
Another long silence fell on the group as they weighed the decision. Then Wesley stood up and faced Angel. “I’ll help you. I fear the consequences of not bringing them back will be worse than whatever we will face from the Senior Partners.”
 
Gunn stood up as well. “I’ve got your back. You’re right – we’ve lost our way lately. We used to know we were on the right side. Some days, I’m not sure we’re doing the right thing. This feels right somehow.”
 
“I couldn’t leave them there,” added Fred. “I know what hell dimensions are like. If where they are is even worse than Pylea… “ She shuddered at the memory.
 
Lorne sighed, staring at his polished shoes for a moment. “I guess I’m in too," he said, resigned. “But I’ve got a bad feeling about this. There are going to be repercussions.”
 
Angel looked around at all of them, grateful for their support. “Ok then. Let’s get to work.”
 
****
 
The five of them worked on the problem every spare moment. On the surface, they were throwing themselves into the day to day workings of Wolfram and Hart with renewed zeal. Gunn was in court every other day it seemed, helping the human and human-looking clients. Fred was hard at work in the lab, although the true nature of her work would have given the Senior Partners pause. Wesley hit the books for hours at a time, until he was sure the crick in his neck was permanent.
 
But it was Lorne who actually came up with one of the most brilliant parts of the plan. He started to arrange an offsite team building retreat for the entire staff. It would be held at a big hotel and conference center, with lots of free food, trust building exercises, and all the other corporate rah-rah activities that Lorne could think of. Attendance would be mandatory, and it was implied that those who chose not to attend would be under additional scrutiny when it came time for the review by the Senior Partners. The building would be essentially empty, giving them free rein to perform their rescue mission. The retreat was scheduled to occur in two weeks. Angel hoped that would be enough time to plan their rescue.
 
The plan, as it was shaping up, involved locking on to Buffy and Spike’s souls by mystical means. Then Angel’s team would open a portal between this world and hell, pulling them out and into an energy field to recorporealize them. It was risky, and had a low likelihood of actually working. But it was all they had. Without tame witches purely magical solutions were out. Fred had reconfigured a version of the rig that they had used to capture the Reaper, with some variations that could handle two souls. Wesley was working on a sort of interdimensional locater spell in order to lock on to them. They started building Fred’s energy field generator in a little used storeroom in the subbasement, and Angel had managed to find a book that gave them the correct spell to open a portal between the worlds.
 
The biggest problem now was power. They needed mystical energy in large amounts. The White Room was a source of this energy, but they were at a loss as to how to access it without alerting the Senior Partners to their plot. Days went by as Fred tinkered, Wesley read, and Lorne planned appetizers. Angel was getting more and more agitated.
 
With five days to go, Angel was getting pretty desperate. He stalked out of the office after dark, and went back to the bar where he had seen Whistler. He sat down and ordered a whiskey as before. This time, he barely got half way through it when he heard the voice at his elbow. “Back again, I see.”
 
Angel turned. “Whistler, just the man I was looking for.”
 
The demon slid into the next barstool and ordered a beer. “How are things going with you, Angel?”
 
Angel looked around, and lowered his voice. “We have a plan to get them back. It might work, but we’re at a brick wall. We need power, and we don’t know how to get it.”
 
“Interesting,” mused Whistler, taking a drink. “Tell me about the plan.”
 
Whistler listened while Angel outlined the rescue. After the description was finished, Whistler took another long drink and said, “As I said before, how much are you willing to give?”
 
“What do you mean?” Angel asked, warily.
 
“I know a way for you to access that conduit. But you have to know that the consequences to you could potentially be fatal.”
 
Angel stared hard at Whistler. “Explain.”
 
“Do you still have that amulet of Spike’s?”
 
“Yes, but it seems to be dead. Why?” Angel was not sure he wanted to know where this was leading.
 
“That amulet is the key. It can harness the power of the conduit and allow you to channel it where you need it,” explained Whistler. “But you saw the effect it had on Spike. I am not sure what it would do to you under these circumstances. The power in the White Room is a different beast altogether. So I ask you again – are you willing to risk everything?”
 
Angel stared long and hard into his drink. That was the $20,000 question, wasn’t it? He wanted to do the right thing. But was he willing to risk his life for Buffy and Spike? At one point, he would have thrown himself into a vat of holy water for her. Hell, he had practically done exactly that for Darla. The thought of doing something like that for Spike was a new concept. Spike had been an annoying thorn in his side for years. However, Angel had to admit that Spike had changed for the better. If Angel was absolutely honest with himself, two-thirds of his problem with Spike was that he was with Buffy, and Angel couldn’t be. And was it really fair to judge Spike only by his past deeds as a vampire? Hadn’t Angel been fighting the same way to overcome his past as Angelus? But then, if Angel died, what would happen to the others? To Connor? Would Connor’s new life evaporate, leaving him lost again? “I’m… not sure what to say, Whistler,” he finally responded.
 
Whistler looked at Angel for a while. Then he spoke quietly, “I understand you want to protect those you love. But the truth is the ones you love will suffer anyway if those destined to thwart Satan in this world are prevented from fulfilling that destiny.”
 
The truth of those words finally hit home. He had made mistakes. He needed to clean up the mess he had made, or more would suffer and more would die. He made up his mind. “Tell me what to do.”
 
TBC
 
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