Leap of Faith
Joanna C

Story by Joanna C, no linking or archiving without permission and 
acknowledgement. Angel characters belong to Fox, Joss Whedon etc. and 
Quantum Leap characters belong to Belissario et al. used without 
permission but for entertainment only (no profit). Feedback adored.

This is a cross-over fic set in the Angel-verse. The first paragraph is 
taken from the QL opening credits, and explains enough of the backstory 
that anyone should be able to follow...

---

Leap of Faith 

[Theorizing time travel within his own lifetime, Dr. Sam Beckett 
stepped into the quantum accelerator…and vanished. He awoke to find 
himself trapped in the past…facing mirror images that were not his 
own….and driven by an unknown force to change history for the better. 
His only guide on his journey is Al, an observer from his own time who 
appears in the form of a hologram that only Sam can see and hear. And 
so Dr. Beckett finds himself leaping from life to life, striving to put 
right what once went wrong, and hoping each time that the next 
leap…will be the leap home…] 

The disorientation of leaping could sometimes be a problem. Often, he 
jumped into the middle of a sensitive situation, and that made it hard 
to orient himself. When there were a few extra minutes to acclimatize, 
Sam was grateful, and this time, he seemed to have that…sort of. The 
person he had leaped into was seated innocuously at a table littered 
with old books: it could be worse. One time, he leaped into a rock star 
mid-concert, and compared to that reading a book was nothing. He had 
that extra second to get his bearings, noticing that except for a young 
and very attractive brunette, he seemed to be alone. But he saw that 
she didn't notice his bewildered disorientation because she seemed to 
be in the throes of her own: a strange sort of seizure that didn't look 
too comfortable. His situation suddenly didn't feel that pressing 
compared to the obvious (and immediate) pain she was in, so he quickly 
declared himself acclimatized and rushed to her side.

"Are you…ok?" he offered cautiously.

She grasped his outstretched arm and used it to heave herself upright.

"Yeah, wonderful," she quipped. "You'd better call Gunn, we'll need 
him."

"Uh…right. Gunn."

She narrowed her eyes as he stood there dumbly. "Number 3 on my speed-
dial? Charles Gunn, our fellow demon-fighter? Geez, Wes, you'd expect 
the vision to throw ME a little, but what's your excuse?"

He shrugged, silently wondering what was going on. Demons? Visions?

***

With the woman watching, he pressed the speed-dial button, and when the 
phone picked up, asked for Gunn.

"Yo, speaking. That you Wes?"

"Um, yes."

"Great, perfect timing, it's all quiet here. You have something for me 
to do?"

"I think so. There was…a vision?"

"Cool, on my way. You at Cordelia's place?"

Ah, he had a name for her now. "Yes," he said, confidence returning as 
he slowly picked up pieces of information.

"Great. On my way." 

He put down the phone with relief. He hoped Al would get here soon---he 
still needed the specs on why he was here. But he had his name figured
out---Wes. And the girl seemed to be Cordelia. And they had a 
colleague, Gunn, who was on his way over. He had no idea what he was on 
his way over to do, but there were no immediate signs of danger, and 
the girl seemed comfortable enough with the only other people he knew 
of: himself and this Gunn fellow. He still wished Al was here, but in 
the meantime he could manage with what he already had. No obvious 
danger: how complicated could it be? 

***

Cordelia tapped her foot impatiently as he hung up the phone. 

"So don't you want to hear what we're up against?" she said.

"Hmm?"

"The vision. You don't want to hear it?"

"Oh, of course. Sorry, go ahead."

She shrugged. "Gunn'll be here any minute," she said. "Maybe I should 
wait for him. You seem a bit out of it, Wes. I mean, more so than 
usual. You sure you're up for a night of demon killing?"

"Oh, of course."

Al suddenly materialized in front of him. "I wouldn't be too quick to 
agree to that, Sam," he warned. Behind him, the knickknacks on the 
bookcase rattled oddly. 

Cordelia shrugged. "All right. Well, I'm gonna go clean myself up 
before Gunn gets here. Still feeling a bit ick from the vision…"

He waited until she was out of earshot before he hissed at Al "What's 
going on? 

Al shrugged. "Not much info yet, Sam. Ziggy's having trouble pulling 
stuff on these folks. I can tell you that the lovely lady is named 
Cordelia Chase." He cast an appraising glance in her general direction. 
"Cutie, isn't she?"

Sam sighed. "Let's get on with it."

"Right." Al tapped some buttons on his hand-held computer. "And your 
name is Wesley Wyndam-Pryce. It's the year 2001 and you live in Los 
Angeles. You moved here after you…hmm, that sounds interesting."

"What? What sounds interesting?"

"Well, Ziggy says you moved here after you lost your job with the 
Watcher's Council---wonder what that is. This whole thing feels weird, 
Sam. I know we usually keep the people you leap into out of things, but 
we're going to need to bring the real Wesley in on this. Somehow I 
don't think he'll be too fazed by the leap thing."

"So what am I here to do?" said Sam.

Al shrugged. "Not sure yet. Says here that until very recently, you 
were working for a guy called Angel. So was she, by the way," he said, 
referring to Cordelia. "Then an old girlfriend came back to town, and 
he became obsessed with her. You guys tried to intervene and he fired 
you both."

"So what's this thing I'm supposed to do right now? Cordelia said 
something about a vision, and some demon killing?"

Al sighed. "Look, this leap is a bit complicated, Sam. We're still 
trying to figure things out. I'm gonna go back, see if Wesley can tell 
us anything. You just go with the flow."

***

Gunn arrived just as Cordelia returned to the kitchen, hair brushed, 
face washed.

"Great, you're here," she said. "Follow me, boys."

"The fair Cordelia," Gunn greeted. "What've we got?"

"An easy one this time. Tiny horny thing vs cute young couple."

"Horny?" Echoed Gunn. "Sounds nasty."

Cordelia rolled her eyes, and Sam stifled a smile. "Well," he offered, 
"Tiny sounds even better."

She glared. "Yeah…tiny, with little spikey horns that shoot fireballs."

"Oh."

"Don't worry," she said bravely. "Gunn, you have your ax, I'll bring my 
mace…we'll let you have the cross-bow, Wes. Gunn's been giving me 
lessons but I'm not 100% yet. And I know how much you hate sharing your 
cross-bow!" Gunn and Cordelia laughed as Sam just stood there, 
wondering what he had gotten himself into. 

***

Wesley Wyndam-Pryce awoke to find that much to his relief, the bright 
blue light had faded. The last thing he remembered was sitting in 
Cordelia's living room, researching. Then there had been the bright, 
blue light, and now, here he was… somewhere. He lifted a hand to adjust 
his glasses, and found he wasn't wearing any. What on earth…

"Please don't panic," said a voice. "You are perfectly safe."

"What…where am I? What have you done to me?"

A small and flamboyantly dressed man came into his sight. "You are in 
the waiting room. And I will explain what happened in a minute. Your 
name is Wesley?"

He nodded.

"All right, I'm Al. Now, what I am going to tell you might seem a bit 
crazy, but something tells me you can deal with it." The man held out a 
mirror, and Wesley gasped: the face that gazed back at him was not his 
own.

"What have you done to me?" he repeated, more harshly.

"Well, you're not entirely you right now," explained Al slowly. "Know 
anything about quantum physics by any chance?"

"A smattering…"

"All right. I work for a scientist named Sam Beckett. He was working on 
a time travel project using a quantum accelerator, there was a 
malfunction, and he got stuck."

"Stuck…in time?"

"Pretty much. He's on a kind of a…mission. We're not exactly sure who 
controls it or how. But he leaps into someone, rights a wrong in their 
life, then leaps into someone else. We're hoping one of these days 
he'll leap back into himself, which is where you are right now because 
he's leaped into you."

In spite of his not entirely allayed panic, Wesley found himself 
relaxing. So this Sam person was an emissary from the powers, then. And 
he too was struggling toward the redemption that would restore his 
soul. Wesley could appreciate that.

"Sounds like my boss," said Wesley. "Well, former boss," he glumly 
corrected.

"Yeah," said Al carefully. "That's actually what I wanted to talk to 
you about." 

***

A second after he got there, he realized that the cross-bow would be 
useless. Cordelia claimed it was Wesley's weapon of choice, but Sam had 
never used one. And people were in danger: he had to help them. His 
army training was the only way to do that. He surveyed the scene 
carefully. The girl seemed the weakest fighter of the three of them, so 
he motioned to the young couple that was cowering against the wall. 
"Get them," he whispered to her. To Gunn, he whispered "take the rear" 
and on the count of three, he himself dove at the tiny horned creature, 
arms cocked in fighting stance. The creature hissed, fire trailing out 
of its horns. Ducking and keeping low, he distracted it as Gunn 
attacked from the back and knocked the creature down. In seconds, the 
fight was over. Cordelia had reassured the young couple, and seeing 
they were uninjured, sent them on their way. Now, she rushed to
Sam's side. 

"Are you ok? Geez, why didn't you just take him out with the cross-
bow?"

"I'm fine," he said. "Is everyone all right?" They nodded. 

"So are we done for now?" asked Cordelia. "Or did you guys have other 
plans?"

Gunn shrugged. "All quiet on the Gunn front," he said. "I'll walk you 
home, Cordelia. Left my truck at your place."

"I'll join you," said Sam. "You can give me a ride home." 

***

Once they saw Cordelia in safely, Gunn dropped Wesley off.

"That was some fighting back there, Wes."

Sam shrugged.

"No, seriously. You don't usually enjoy that kind of thing so much. 
What gives?"

"I've been practicing?" Sam offered.

Gunn shook his head. "Whatever. Well, here you go, bro. See you in the 
a.m."

He nodded. "Goodnight, Gunn."

Well, that wasn't so bad, Sam mused. He hoped that Al was waiting for 
him inside, as he had many questions about what he had just seen.

***

Al was indeed waiting, perched comfortably on the couch.

"Sorry I took so long," he told Sam. "But what this guy was saying…we 
had to check him out."

"What do you mean?"

"He's sane, Sam. Totally sane. But what he told us…it isn't."

"Go on…"

Al nodded. "Backstory first. The guy you used to work for---Angel? He's 
a vampire."

Sam shrugged. "Al, I just spent the evening fighting a demon with 
flame-throwing horns. I think I can handle vampire."

"Good, 'cause it gets better. Angel was cursed by some gypsies about a 
hundred years ago. He has a soul now, a human conscience which allows 
him to feel remorse for his crimes. And he was a bad one, Sam. One of 
the worst."

"Anyway," Al continued. Angel wound up in L.A. after his break up with 
Buffy, the vampire slayer. You were her watcher."

"Watcher…this have something to do with that Watcher's Council you 
mentioned?"

"Yes. You worked for them, as Buffy's supervisor. Her attachment to 
Angel is one of the reasons she fired you, but that's not important 
right now. What is important is his ex, this Darla girl."

"Am I here to save her?" he asked.

Al rolled his eyes. "She's a vampire, Sam. Of course you aren't here to 
save her."

He processed the story thoughtfully. "How does Cordelia fit in to all 
this?"

Al smiled. "Funny you should ask. She used to be friends with Buffy 
back in the hometown, Sunnydale. She moved to L.A. to become an 
actress, ran into Angel at some party and hooked up with him."

"You said she worked for him. What does she do?"

"Filing, book-keeping, stuff like that. And she gets psychic visions 
for him from the Powers-That-Be."

Sam narrowed his eye suspiciously at that last part, but allowed Al to 
continue.

"Anyway, this Darla shows up, brought in by some evil lawyers to send 
Angel around the bend. Angel is on a mission to even the score with 
them, and he's forgotten all about his holy redemption, fired all of 
you and cut himself off."

"So it's him I need to help," concluded Sam.

"Not quite. Ziggy says there's a good chance this Darla is going to 
come after Cordelia because she's Angel's link to the Powers. She's 
your mission, Sam."

"I need to protect her from Darla," Sam finished.

Al frowned, consulting his handlink. "Slow down, cowboy: not quite. 
This Darla is tough: if she wants Cordelia, you can't stop her any 
better than the real Wesley can. No, you're not here to stop the girl 
from getting snatched, Sam."

"So why I am here?" he asked.

"To make sure she's not alone when it happens," said Al soberly. "Angel 
won't come after her in his present state, but he will come after 
Darla. This attack is the only way to get them back together so they 
can fulfill their destinies."

"But she could…"

Al nodded. "I know, and I'm not happy about it either. But Ziggy is 
almost certain. You are here because you have combat and medical 
training, which the real Wesley doesn't have. She has to get snatched, 
you can't do anything about that. But once it's happened….you can keep 
her alive until Angel gets there for the final showdown."

***

Sam was subdued when Al departed. This leap was unlike any other. He 
was used to saving people from all sorts of danger. But this…he was 
supposed to LET the girl be captured? Let her be tortured? Let her 
endure who knew what sort of pain…in the name of some higher purpose? 
If what Al had said was true, Darla would not just capture and kill 
them. No, she would want Angel to witness it. She would want to draw it 
out---messily and painfully. And she would do so at the expense of the 
body he was in---and at the expense of that lovely girl. Al was trying 
to extrapolate dates and times from Ziggy, but in the meanwhile he'd 
have to find some pretense to stay with Cordelia. If something happened 
to her, he had to be there.

He was lost in thought when the phone rang. "Wesley?" It was Cordelia, 
and she sounded upset. "Can you come over? I know it's late, but I need 
too talk to you…"

He grabbed a coat. 

***

When he arrived at her apartment, the door blew open effortlessly.

"Cordelia, are you alright?" he called anxiously. "The door was open,
and I…"

"It's ok," said a quiet voice. "It's just Dennis, he unlocked it for 
you."

She was slumped on the couch, wearing only a robe and a blanket. Her 
eyes were red and teary, and she looked like she had been sick.

"What happened?" he asked.

She took a deep breath. "Vision, what else? But it was…it was so long, 
Wes. It must have been…I don't know, it just went on and on and I 
didn't just see but I felt it, I smelled it…blood and vomit and 
violence, all over…"

She trailed off. "Wes, I was in it," she concluded softly. "I was…I'm 
not sure where exactly, but somewhere in that mess of yuck..."

He was sorry she was in such distress, but he mumbled a silent thank-
you to the powers, whoever they may be, for making it easier by giving 
him his in.

"It's ok…" he soothed. "We'll figure it out, and I'll stay with you 
until we do." 

***

Wesley Wyndam-Pryce paced the floor of the waiting room anxiously.

"Come on," he called. "I need to talk to you…"

Al had promised he would be back to update him. As Wesley had tried to 
explain, his job was an unusual one. No one else had the knowledge, the
experience he had. As long as he was in this curious limbo, demons 
would walk the streets unchallenged. Cordelia and Gunn would be in 
danger…well, clearly he had to get back there as soon as possible. At 
the very least, he told Al, he would need regular updates. He could 
help them, but he would need information and so would they.

Al appeared at last, in different but equally loud clothing. 

"Hey, Wes. How are things?"

"Not much change since the last time I saw you," said Wesley irritably. 
"As you can see, I am confined to this room…"

Al shrugged. "Sorry. Most of the time the people Sam leaps into are not 
as accommodating as you are. Some of them don't take the news very 
well."

"I am a difficult person to surprise. But enough small talk: what's 
going on?"

"Well," said Al cheerfully. "We figured out the mission. 90% 
probability he's there to help your friend Cordelia."

"Help her with what?"

Al shrugged. "He's supposed to reunite her with Angel."

"Angel? But he's…he fired us. He's turned his back on the Powers-That-
Be!"

"Only for now. Look, don't get all upset with me, I don't decide these 
things."

"But…why would they send HIM in to help her? I'm her friend! I can help 
her."

"Not with this."

"And you think he can? I used to be a watcher. I know more about Angel 
and Darla than almost anyone. What can HE do that I can't?"

Al sighed. This is why they usually didn't get the people in the 
waiting room involved, he realized. He certainly didn't want to 
interrupt this fit of insecurity to tell Wesley that Sam had been sent 
in to keep Cordelia alive during capture and possible torture. An 
obliviously mid-rant Wesley didn't notice Al tiptoe out of the room. 
Wesley, finally exhausted, headed into the bathroom and gazed at the 
strange face in the mirror.

"What do YOU know?" he asked it scornfully. "You'll never be able to 
help her!" 

***

She shrugged off his suggestion that they call Gunn. He was relieved 
that she seemed comfortable enough with Wesley, but Gunn knew more 
about these visions, and Angel, than Sam did. Until Al returned, at any 
rate. Still, he did have medical training, and some background in 
psychology. He was confident he could take care of her.

"It's late," he said. "Why don't you try and get some sleep?"

"I don't think I CAN sleep. Too rattled."

"Well, I'll be right here," he said gently. "Why don't you try?"

She nodded and leaned back into the pillows, closing her eyes, as Al 
zapped in. A glass of water on the kitchen table tipped over abruptly.

"It's not looking good, Sam," said Al, typically melodramatic.

"I know that. She called me over to calm her down after another of 
those vision things. She's terrified, Al."

"She should be. She's seen Angel when he was bad, and it ain't pretty. 
Once Wesley pointed us in the right direction, Ziggy was able to do 
some digging. Darla's cohort Drusilla---you know how she became a 
vampire?"

Sam shrugged. "This is all new to me, Al."

"Well, I'll tell you. Darla and Angel killed her entire family, made 
her insane, then turned her into a vampire so she'd stay that way."

Sam winced.

"Oh, it gets better," said Al. "Angel killed Darla when she went after 
Buffy. Some psycho lawyers raised her from hell in a ritual that almost 
left your girl here dead."

"Poor thing," said Sam softly.

"Yeah. And unlike Angel, she isn't in this to atone for her sins. She 
hasn't DONE any sins, beyond the petty acting-out of a spoiled little 
rich girl, and Wesley tells me she's already paid for that. Ziggy was a 
bit fuzzy on this next part---going on some not very reliable anecdotal 
reports---but it seems she was drafted into this "good fight" of theirs 
when a friend heroically sacrificed his life to save her. His dying act 
was to pass on the visions to her."

Al caught the Sam's heartfelt gaze at the sleeping girl. "Don't feel 
too badly. That little thing is tougher than she looks. With equal 
training, she would equal even you."

Sam sighed. "She just seems so young…"

Al nodded. "She is. But she's a survivor, Sam---and not just as far as 
demons are concerned. She's had a life, she's had interests…but she's 
also very important to these powers. Important enough that they've gone 
to some lengths for her."

"Al, are you getting philosophical on me?" he teased.

"Hey, I don't do philosophy. I don't know if these powers are the same 
as the ones that control your leaping, Sam. But I do know that if you 
leave the demons and weirdness out, she's just like all your other 
leaps: a person who needs your help."

***

On the couch beside him, Cordelia stirred. He gently brushed a lock of 
hair out of her eyes, and she fidgeted awake.

"How are you feeling?" he asked softly.

"A little edgy, but a little better. Can you make me some tea?"

He nodded, rising and heading for the kitchen.

"And Wes? Maybe we should call Gunn. Something is gonna happen, I can 
feel it. We need a plan."

On the table, a book lurched to the floor, unnoticed, as Al zapped 
himself out. Sam reached for the phone.

***

Gunn strolled in just as the tea was ready.

"Hey, Wes, what's up? Must be big to call me out again."

"I think so. Cordelia's had another vision---of herself, this time."

Gunn winced. "So what're we up against?"

Sam hesitated. He knew exactly what they were up against, thanks to the 
real Wesley and the dirt he helped Ziggy uncover. But these people---
they didn't know all of it. He had shared his true nature with people 
before, but these guys seemed to have enough problems without having to 
wrap their heads around the Quantum Leap project.

"Wes?"

"I don't know," he said carefully. "She's still a bit rattled, hasn't 
said much."

He went back to the living room with her tea, silently muttering "Al, 
where are you?" He was starting to get the first stirrings of an 
idea---of a plan---but it was a delicate one. He needed to talk to Al.

***

Cordelia was sitting up again, and had thrown off the blanket---the 
doctor in Sam noting that this was a good sign. Rejecting a talisman of 
comfort meant she was coping again. She hadn't filled Gunn in on the 
vision yet---waiting for her tea---and Al zapped in just in time to 
catch the tale of blood and pain.

"Ouch," said Al as she explained the vision.

"Ouch," said Gunn.

Cordelia placed her mug on the table, and it wobbled as Al sat down 
nearby.

"Are you sure these vision things are accurate?" Al asked Sam.

"Let's hope it's not accurate," said Gunn. "Have they been wrong 
before?"

"Oh sure," groaned Cordelia. "Just 'cause the visions are the only part 
you can't do also, figures that's the part you would doubt."

"Hey, I'm not doubting you," said Gunn. "Just wanting you to be ok. 
You're saving my life, you know. I need you." He grinned, and she shyly 
smiled back at him: some kind of inside joke, Sam guessed.

"Sam, we need to talk," said Al. "Make an excuse, get out of here for a 
bit."

Sam rose, stretching. "Well, I sure am tired. What I wouldn't give for 
a shower…"

Cordelia shrugged. "I've washed your spare clothes. They're in a bag on 
the floor of my closet, just where you left them. Knock yourself out." 

***

He headed into the bathroom, and as soon as the water was running, 
faced Al.

"What've you got?"

"Not much, but something. Confirmation, for one thing. You're up in two 
days, Sam. She has an audition, and will get snatched on the way out."

"Audition?"

Al shrugged. "Isn't every pretty girl in L.A. an actress? She isn't a 
very good one, unfortunately. But Ziggy says if she lives through the 
next week..."

"Well, I have something to ask you," he said. "I was thinking about 
telling them."

"Telling them what? Who you really are?"

He nodded. "The information they have is so sketchy, Al. All she knows 
is that something is coming."

"Maybe that's all she's supposed to know. Right now we're sure she gets 
snatched at that audition. Tell her not to go, and you lose your 
ability to predict where she'll be taken. And you NEED to be with her 
when that happens."

Sam sighed. "I understand that. But…don't you think it would comfort 
her to know that I am a soldier, a fighter? That I can take care of 
her?"

"Maybe. But she strikes me as the type who can take care of herself."

"I know, but Al, I have to warn them. I have to tell them what they're 
up against."

Al sighed. "Not her, Sam. I know you want to save her, but you have to 
let them take her. You HAVE to."

"How about Gunn? What've we got on him?"

Al pressed some buttons. "Not much. Name Charles Gunn, age unknown, and 
the only one of our group that's an L.A. native. Lives in a rough part 
of town and has appointed himself unofficial neighborhood watch. Used 
to freelance for Angel---scut work for hire kinda thing. Now he works 
with you."

"Can I trust him?"

Al shrugged. "She does. All right, Sam, you can tell Gunn the basics, 
but no whens or hows. We can't have him getting in the way. You save 
the girl AFTER she's snatched, not before, we clear?"

He nodded.

"And Sam? Don't tell them you're a time traveler or anything…put it in 
their terms, ok? These people have already got enough to worry about."

***

Al zapped himself out as the bar of soap fell out of its tray and 
knocked him in the head. Sam smiled. If he didn't know any better, he'd 
say the place was haunted by a poltergeist that didn't like Al very 
much. 

He emerged from the bathroom dressed in the spare clothes and feeling 
renewed. There was a mission. He had a plan. He smiled at Cordelia.

"Hey. You all right?"

She nodded. "Are you? That was a long shower."

"I know, I was just thinking. You know, if you're feeling ok I wouldn't 
mind going home and picking up a few things."

She shrugged. Al zapped in again, and her mug wobbled ominously.

"Great, I won't be gone long. Gunn, can you give me a lift?"

"Smooth, Sam," said Al.

Gunn gave him a funny look. "Sure, I guess. If it's ok with her?"

Cordelia pouted. "You're going to talk about me."

He smiled. "What makes you say that?"

"You don't need to protect me. Whatever you have to say about this 
whole thing, you can say in front of me."

"Cordelia…"

The mug rattled violently as Al took a step toward the couch. "Geez 
Phantom Dennis, calm down!" snapped Cordelia. "As for you, thinking I 
need you to protect me because I'm not as good with a cross-bow? I'm 
tough. I can deal!"

Al chuckled approvingly. "You tell 'em, sweetie!" The mug teetered on 
the brink of the table as Cordelia snatched it, hissing "Dennis, 
behave…"

"Cordelia, I just want to pick up some things. I'll be back soon."

Before she could get in another word, he grabbed Gunn by the arm and 
hauled him outside. Al zapped out, thoughtful. 

***

Gunn waited until they were back at Wesley's apartment before he 
finally spoke.

"What was that all about?"

Sam motioned to the couch. "Sit down for a minute, Gunn. We need to 
talk."

"I figured. You've been acting weird, Wes. Something's up."

He tried to think of a way to phrase it so Gunn would understand. 
"Well, it's like this: the Powers-That-Be have a regular thing with 
Cordelia. But sometimes…well, they have ways of getting messages to 
other people."

"You getting visions now too?" asked Gunn incredulously.

He shook his head. "More like a one-shot thing. A premonition."

Gunn nodded, seeming to accept this. "What'd it say?"

"Well, not much. You know how those Powers are…just that something is 
coming, and Darla is involved."

"Coming for her?"

Sam nodded. "Soon, I think. But…the Powers gave me the impression that 
I could protect her, that she'll be ok."

"You have a plan?" Gunn asked.

Al zapped in. "You do, Sam. You do."

"Only that I plan to stay with her every minute I can. And I have ways 
to…I can find out what Darla is up to. I didn't want to worry Cordelia, 
but I wanted you to know."

Gunn nodded. "So what do we tell her?"

"Nothing," said Sam firmly. "I don't want to scare her."

"I don't know, man," said Gunn. "Keeping secrets…"

"I need you," said Sam. "If anything happens…you'll have to get Angel. 
He'll follow you to find her."

"And how will I know where she is?"

"Sam," said Al. "I don't mean to interrupt, but you have an ace that 
could help here. This Dennis she mentioned… Wesley says he's a ghost, 
and I think he can see me."

"The powers…have their ways," said Sam, giving Al a slight nod of 
understanding. "If anything happens, go to Cordelia's and I'll leave 
instructions there."

"Because the Powers are helping you."

Sam nodded. "It might seem hard to believe, but the…premonition…I had 
was very clear. Something will happen. Angel will follow you to find 
her."

Gunn's eyes radiated doubt. "He fired us, man. I'm not sure if he cares 
about Cordelia right now."

"He'll care. He'll care because it's Darla who will have her. You have 
to trust me on this, Gunn. I know what I'm talking about."

"I still think we should tell her."

"Maybe. But I'm the one who got the premonition, so I'm deciding how we 
use it. This conversation never happened. And it will continue to never 
have happened unless something happens to Cordelia and I. You wait for 
a sign from me, then you bring Angel when you come after us."

Gunn shrugged. "All right, we'll do it your way. But I still think we 
should tell."

***

Gunn dropped him off at Cordelia's, and he was relieved to find that 
she had moved herself to the bedroom, where she was sleeping 
comfortably. She had left him a blanket and pillow, and as he settled 
in, Al popped by to say goodnight.

"Hey, Sam. You guys ok?"

He nodded. "She's sleeping."

"And you? This leap is a bit different for you."

He shrugged. "Like you said, I should just think of it as a girl who 
needs my help, same as any other. And we have two days, right?"

Al pressed some buttons on his handlink. "Well, day and a bit by now, 
it's almost midnight. You're in the clear until Friday at 2, when she 
comes out of her audition."

"All right. In the meantime, see if you can track down this Darla, keep 
an eye on her. We'll need to know what her weaknesses are, where she's 
hiding…"

Al nodded. "I'll need to update Wesley too. That guy is pretty high-
maintenance."

Sam climbed onto the couch. "I'm going shopping tomorrow. There are 
some supplies I'll need. Keep me posted, Al."

Al zapped out. The bookcase rattled precariously. 

***

He had adjusted to the discomfort of being in someone else's body, but 
something was up, and Wesley Wyndham-Pryce hated being out of the loop. 
He had tried to find out what Sam was doing with his friends, but the 
answers were vague and non-committal: helping Cordelia. Reuniting her 
with Angel. But what was he DOING? 

Al ambled in with breakfast. "Wesley. How are you doing?"

He sighed. "All right. I don't suppose you have anything new to tell 
me?"

Al shrugged. "Not really. If all goes well, you'll be out of here in 
two or three days. And when you leap, you won't remember a thing. It'll 
be as if you were there all along. Anyway Wes, I thought of a wonderful 
way for us to pass the time: a little game of word association. Let's 
see, I say 'Darla' and you say…" 

***

Cordelia woke up on Thursday in a brilliant mood. "Morning, Wes. 
Coffee, tea…what can I get ya?"

He smiled. "You seem happy."

"Why shouldn't I be? Powers won't give me a new vision until we deal 
with the one I had, and I got the feeling that might not be for a day 
or two. Which means that I have today to be normal. A whole day without 
demons or slime or vampires…who wouldn't be happy about that?"

She had a point there. "All right," he said. "What do you want to do 
today?"

She frowned. "Well, we'll have to do SOME work, I suppose. Gunn'll be …."

At that moment, the phone rang, and it was Gunn. One of his boys was 
having some trouble, and he didn't think he'd be in today. Sam grinned. 
"Guess we're not that busy after all. How about you and me ditch work 
today and do some shopping?"

She gave him a delighted smile. "Ohhh, you're so much fun when you drop 
your stuffy-Brit act. I could kiss you…but I won't…"

He smiled back and grabbed a jacket. 

***

Just before lunch, he left her alone in a shoe store and went to run 
his errand. He met her at the food court ten minutes later, the small 
bag tucked neatly under his arm. She arrived loaded down with two large 
bags of her own.

"Two for one sale," she explained. "How could I not?" She glanced at 
his bag curiously. "What did you get?"

"Office supplies. Two for one."

The afternoon passed by in a blur of browsing and lounging, and by mid-
afternoon they were ready to go home. She flew happily into the 
apartment, shedding the bags and boxes at the door.

"Look, Dennis," she gushed. Then, to Sam, she said "I'm gonna go put 
this stuff away and have a shower. You ok by yourself for a bit?"

He nodded, bending over and picking up her discarded shoebox.

"Great," she called from the bedroom. "Start thinking about what you 
want for dinner…"

As soon as he heard the water running, confirming that she was 
occupied, he pulled out his shopping bag. Carefully, he emptied the 
contents into the shoebox, pausing only to scribble a note that he 
carefully placed on top of the contents. He closed the box and affixed 
a label to the lid with Gunn's name on it. Then, he held the package 
aloft and spoke quietly to the empty apartment:

"Dennis, is it? I may not be the Wesley you know, but I am here to help 
her. Friday afternoon, Gunn is going to come looking for us. Make sure 
he gets this."

He tucked the box into the front hall closet and sat on the couch, 
waiting for Al. 

***

"It worked," he told him.

The kitchen chairs trembled as Al zapped in. "I'm glad," said Al. He 
surveyed the remains of their shopping, their video binge and their 
Chinese take-out. "Looks like you two had a nice day."

"We did. And I got what I needed."

"How's Cordelia?" he asked.

Sam smiled. "Wonderful. Still wired from a day of shopping and goofing 
off. Just got her to bed about five minutes ago." His face darkened. 
"She has no idea…"

"Don't go there, Sam."

"I know, I just…she was so happy today, Al. She's a young kid, she 
should be happy. And tomorrow….well, anyway, I found what I needed. 
Everything's set up."

Al pressed some buttons on his handlink. "Well, it looks like it still 
happens as predicted. Guess there's nothing left to do but wait."

Sam shook his head. "There is one more thing we have to do," he said, 
pointing at Al with one hand and the wall with the other. "Al, meet 
Dennis. Dennis, meet Al." 

***

Friday morning, Sam began to tense. She was still on cloud nine from 
her day off, and while it was nice that she was so relaxed and happy, 
he had to start preparing her.

"So, Cordelia," he said over breakfast. "I think we should talk some 
more about that vision you had."

Her eyes darkened. "Oh, sure, Wes. That's a wonderful way to prepare 
for my audition. I don't want to talk about it, and I don't remember 
anything and anyway I have to get ready."

He knew she did. And he was trying to get her ready…for what she really 
was destined to do today. "But the vision…"

"Could be way off. I know, they haven't been before. But they could be, 
right? And it was so vague and fuzzy, it's hard to really know what it 
was about…"

She was talking fast: he had rattled her. But he had accomplished what 
he needed to and brought her back to the more serious world. She would 
be ready. And he would be too: he had already made a point of telling 
Gunn he would check in as soon as her audition was over. Hopefully, it 
wouldn't take more than an hour after that for Gunn to worry enough to 
come looking. 

***

At one, he took her to her audition and waited in the wings while she 
did her thing. She was not a very good actress, but she had such a 
strong personality: she'd do just fine, he knew. If she lived through 
the day…

He walked her out, scanning the area carefully.

"Geez Wes, you're a little jumpy today," she said.

He shrugged. "Never hurts to be on guard…"

He wasn't sure what happened next, but at some point, he blacked out.

***

When Sam came to, he was loosely bound and sprawled face-down on a 
filthy and splintery floor. He was unbelievably dizzy: he tried to 
shake his arms to test the bonds, but the nausea overcame him.

"You'll make it worse if you squirm," said a breathy voice. "Lie still, 
and you'll be fine soon enough."

He raised his head painfully and finally his eyes focused on an icy 
blond woman.

"Darla?"

"Who else? Now look, the party hasn't started yet so don't go 
aspirating on your own vomit or anything. Just lie still for now."

"Cordelia…" he choked.

Darla nodded. "She's here too, but she hasn't come out of it yet. 
Little wildcat, she put up a fight and we had to give her an extra dose 
of the sedative."

Darla laughed. "Just lie still, Watcher. We'll be ready for you soon." 

***

Al zapped in a few minutes later. Sam had, after laborious effort, 
managed to flip himself onto his back. He was staring at the ceiling, 
breathing deeply and trying to still the dizzying waves of nausea.

"Show-time, Sam," said Al carefully. "You missed your check-in, and 
Gunn's on his way to her place."

"Darla…"

Al nodded. "Some of her goons snatched you both. You're in some kind of 
warehouse. The girl hasn't woken up yet."

He stopped talking when Darla breezed into the room.

"Well, looks like you've recovered enough for phase 2," she said 
cheerfully. 

She grabbed him by the neck and hoisted him upright. As he struggled 
under her grasp, she led him to the far corner of the room, attached 
clamps to his ankles and wrists and secured the clamps to a series of 
chains. They were long enough to allow some mobility, and he was 
finally able to take in the whole of the room, unadorned save the two 
couches piled together in the epicenter. One of them was empty, 
presumably as Darla had vacated it to chain him. On the other, a slight 
brunette with long and wild hair was comfortably sprawled, watching 
Darla with interest. Drusilla, he guessed. Cordelia was lying facedown, 
bound loosely as he had been. She was not yet stirring.

"Well Watcher, I don't know if you've met Drusilla yet. Dru honey, say 
hello to the watcher."

"Hello." She had an odd tone, and not just from the accent. She 
was…off. And that made Sam more afraid. He slumped against the wall for 
support, breathing deeply. He had to recover. He had to recover before 
Cordelia woke up, because she needed him. 

***

Gunn pushed open the door of Cordelia's apartment nervously. Wesley had 
said the audition would be over by 2. He had promised to check in by 
2:30, and he had told Gunn to come looking for them if he hadn't called 
by 3. It was now 3:42: he had wasted half an hour begging Angel to come 
with him, and the vampire had only reluctantly acquiesced when the 
begging was interrupted by a taunting visit from one of Darla's ghouls, 
inviting him to find her if he dared. Now, Angel reluctantly skulked in 
the hallway as Gunn went inside.

"Cordelia?" he called

There was no answer, but he felt a chill as a closet door opened and a 
shoebox flew out and landed gently at his feet. He opened it to find a 
small ear-piece, a walkie-talkie and a terse letter, scrawled in an 
almost-familiar hand:

[Angel--- take the ear-piece and wait for instructions from Gunn. 
Gunn--- set up the laptop and wait for instructions from Dennis. Trust 
me.]

Dennis was the plan? With a shrug, he turned the laptop on, barely 
noticing the bookcase rattle as Al zapped in.

"Hey, Dennis," said Al. "Start typing." 

***

Darla and Drusilla seemed to come in and out. As far as he could tell, 
they occupied two adjoining rooms, which seemed to be the only 
habitable parts of the old warehouse. There seemed to be others in on 
this little project: he heard voices from the other room, and mention 
of someone being sent to fetch Angel. He seemed recovered enough, and 
if he stretched, he could barely touch the still-unconscious Cordelia. 
By now, even Darla was starting to worry about her.

"I hope she doesn't die on me," Darla complained. "What fun would that 
be with Angel not here to see it? Dru, how much of the drug did you 
give her?"

"Enough to make her stop kicking," said Dru.

"Well, she's better start kicking again soon. It's no fun to torture 
someone too drugged to scream."

Sam shivered, and Al popped in again.

"Hey, Sam. They're at her place now. Gunn's set up with Dennis and 
Angel's on his way. I'll pop back and forth to keep you both posted."

From the floor, they heard a soft groan. Drusilla clapped her hands 
gleefully.

"It's alive," she whispered. "Grandmum, it's moving."

Cordelia seemed to be discovering, as he had, that being drugged was 
not a fun experience. She barely twitched a finger before she moaned 
audibly and seemed to shrink into herself. Sam reached out a hand. "May 
I?" he asked.

Darla kicked Cordelia swiftly, sending her flying into Sam's arms. 
"Knock yourself out. I think my boy will be here soon, and I want to 
have a chance to play with her first. Get her alert, Watcher."

The movement hadn't done her any good. When he touched her skin, it was 
clammy and bathed in sweat. He turned her over, and she retched 
miserably.

"It's ok, Cordelia," he whispered. They used some sort of drug to take 
us…"

"And you, little cat, had to give you extra. Scratch!" hissed Drusilla.

"Dru, leave them alone," snapped Darla impatiently. "My boy is on his 
way and we have to get ready."

"Get ready how?" asked Sam.

Darla smiled. "My boy can smell me, love. It's too easy for him to find 
this little hideaway. But getting HERE and getting IN…that's not the 
same thing." She tugged on Dru's sleeve and led her away. 

***

Al popped in to the apartment. "Hey, Dennis. Darla knows he's on the 
way and she's gonna have the whole place booby-trapped."

Gunn was pacing, but he sat down again when the computer started 
typing.

[she knows you're coming. warehouse. booby-trap]

He picked up the walkie-talkie. "Angel, she's waiting for you. Place is 
rigged."

Somewhere else, Angel nodded, fingering the ear-piece idly. He had no 
idea how Gunn was getting the blow-by-blow on Darla's movements. 
Unless…unless the powers really were helping them. If that were true…if 
the powers were intervening so directly…that changed everything. 

***

Al popped back to the warehouse, alarmed to find that Cordelia did not 
seem to be recovering. Their captors breezed in a moment after Al had.

"Well, how is she?" Darla asked solicitously.

Sam glared at her. "Burning up. She was sick earlier, but we're down to 
just dry heaves. Thankfully, she's breathing…"

Drusilla stepped foreword and peered at her carefully. "I'm not happy 
about this at all, Grandmum," she pouted. "She'll get my chains all 
sweaty and sick."

"Well, it wasn't me who drugged her twice," said Darla. "Although my 
spies tell me Angel is making his way up to us faster than we expected. 
Nice to know he'll still see suffering even if we don't have time to 
torture her."

Darla leaned over and gazed firmly into Cordelia's eyes, holding up her 
index finger. "Can you see me, Hon? How many fingers am I holding up?"

Body quivering, Cordelia laboriously matched the rude gesture. Darla 
clapped.

"Wonderful, she's getting lucid. Dru honey, go get the surprise."

***

Dru hopped out and returned a moment later wheeling a cart with a 
television set. "See," said Darla, "We have cameras. Now, we can watch 
him coming."

Al had to stop himself from jumping up and down; there were more 
constructive ways to convey his excitement. Darla didn't know it, but 
she had just handed him her downfall on a silver platter. Finally, he 
understood why Sam had been brought here: it wasn't about his skills: 
it was about Al's. Too bad all of the people Sam leaped into didn't 
have ghost roommates. Without Al, and Dennis' ability to see him…

"Sam, we've hit a lull until Angel gets here. Keep her talking," he 
said.

Sam tried to organize his thoughts, which was not an easy thing to do 
with Cordelia writhing feverishly in his arms.

"So Darla, what exactly do you have planned for him?"

She smiled. "Well, no harm in sharing, I guess. See, what we're trying 
to do is get him away from the Powers-That-Be. And I'm afraid killing 
you two is not enough, because he'll just find another conduit. So we 
have to make him think that the Powers have abandoned him."

"And how do you plan to do that?"

Her grin widened. "How do you think? We've got this whole warehouse 
rigged, Watcher. WE are not going to kill you. HE is. The route to get 
him in here will lead him through a ceiling vent. It's rigged with a 
trap that'll fill the room with a poison that's deadly but only for 
humans. When he realizes that your deaths are HIS fault, even 
accidentally…it'll drive him over the edge, don't you think?"

"What if he finds your trap and disarms it?"

"He can't." Darla grinned evilly. "It's all rigged, Watcher. By the 
time he sees it, it'll be too late."

Beside her, Drusilla licked her lips. "It was my idea," she cooed. "I 
saw it in a movie. All he has to do to stop the trap is press a little 
lever. But the lever…that's where he comes IN. And the switch---that's 
where he comes OUT! A little shiny lever right under the window…"

Of course, they wouldn't make it easy. They had rigged the trap so that 
Angel wouldn't see it until he had already passed the switch that would
deactivate it…and with the whole building rigged with who knew what, 
and Darla's lackeys following him, he wouldn't be able to backtrack…

***

Al zapped out and re-materialized at Cordelia's. "We've struck it rich, 
Dennis…"

Far away, Angel massaged his ear-piece. Someone was watching over him. 
He had been swayed. Wolfram and Hart had brought in Darla and they had
swayed him. But someone was swaying him back. 

***

Angel approached the warehouse and looked around carefully. There was a 
door. There was a window. And he could go in either way. He had to find 
the deactivation switch that Gunn mentioned, but he knew Darla was 
watching. If he acted like he was on to her, she would take Wesley and 
Cordelia and bolt. He had to play it cool. He walked the perimeter of 
the building, inspecting each window, each door carefully. Darla 
watched him on the monitor.

"Isn't he a cautious one today?" she asked Drusilla.

"It isn't Daddy," Dru pouted.

Darla rolled her eyes. "Oh, look," she told Sam. "Here's the first 
obstacle."

One of her minions had appeared in front of him, and they began 
tussling. The minion was to make sure that Angel stayed away from the 
window and went in through the door. Angel obliged him, and the cameras 
were not sharp enough to pick up the spring-loaded stake he shot from 
his sleeve. His vampire aim was right on target: he missed the minion, 
but hit the tiny lever he had aimed for. The camera never noticed. 

***

Al briefly zapped back to the apartment and gave Dennis an update. He 
would warn Sam at the split second before Angel broke through the 
ceiling vent: a critical moment, because in all the excitement, Darla 
had made a crucial mistake. Cordelia had remained so out of it that 
Darla has completely forgotten to chain her. If the girl could rally 
herself to pull a crucial stunt, he could make sure that Darla and 
Drusilla had their backs turned when Angel descended. 

Most of Darla's traps were pedestrian: ghoul appears at last moment, 
leads Angel into confined area, he kills ghoul and goes through only 
exit. He wasn't positive he had disabled the final trap, but he had 
aimed and fired. He resolved that the result, whatever it was, would be 
the sign he needed. The eerily supernatural instructions from who-knew-
who were saying that he was heading into the final trap, the one that 
would lead him to Darla and Drusilla. He raised his hand, poised to 
release the latch. 

Al zapped into the room. "Now!" he commanded.

Sam whispered into Cordelia's ear, then tossed her gently at Darla. 
Instantly, she began convulsing. Darla and Drusilla hurried over, and 
in their distraction, they didn't notice Angel swoop in. He appeared 
briefly torn when he saw Cordelia, but when Wesley caught his eye with 
a deviously knowing smile, he fired the spring-loaded stakes at the 
vampires from behind. Cordelia, a better actress than he thought, 
quieted instantly.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered. "I was swayed, but never again. The 
powers…"

Sam rattled his chains, and Angel hurried over. "Wes, I'm so sorry, you 
won't believe this but the powers literally brought me here, and…"

He raised a hand. "You'll tell us later, Angel. Let's get Cordelia out 
of here."

Angel helped him to his feet, as Al zapped happily in.

"You did it, Sam. Cordelia's acting and modeling career is a dismal 
failure, thanks in part to the bruises she picks up on her night job 
with him. But her agent doesn't give up on her, and in a few months she 
breaks into radio and winds up with a wildly successful talk show. She 
dies at a ripe old age and bequeaths her entire fortune to her long-
time friend Angel. Wesley and Gunn are a bit harder to track down, but 
Ziggy has death records that show them around for quite some time."

Angel had one arm around Cordelia as he leaned over and whispered 
"Thanks for taking such good care of her" into Sam's ear. She seemed to 
be recovering, and as they departed, she gave him a brave smile, which 
was still ringing in his head when he leaped.

***

END