Wandering Back

[Wesley Wyndam-Pryce]

It's been months now...over a year, in fact...since returning for the beyond. I can still remember the feelings of shock and confusion when I awoke in that casket, and the rush from killing my aides. Amazing how intoned ones sense becomes when waking up to the world for the first time. Perhaps it's something similar to the way vampires are when they are reborn. I dare say the connecting between their rebirth and mine is not lost, nor sick irony of the 'first kill.' Still, as much as the rational side was functioning properly at the time, instinct was the dominate part at the time. It was instinct the pull the gun out and shot them, and it was instinct the told me to run, even after that girl tried to talk to me. No doubt another creature of the night, but one that didn't require my absolute attention. All that mattered then, and now, was running.

Now, I'm nowhere closer to being at any sort of destination. Well, philosophically I was lost, but physically I've found myself returning to London. Odd thing coming here; I believe the last time I ever set foot in the UK was before I left for the states to meet my newest charge Buffy and Faith. I left thinking that I had all the knowledge and discipline needed for the task ahead. I return minus the naivety and the stuffy tie. I return to the newly constructed building that houses the Watcher Council.

A long over due visit, I suppose. A visit that could have gone without the thorough examination process in the security area. Considering I was last considered a dead traitor, I can see where I would be distrusting of a former member suddenly popping up one afternoon. After several physical and metaphysical scans and probes, They allowed me through to a visitation wing.

Standing in the open space, I study the portraits hanging on the walls, the artifacts and anti quites on ledges and stands, the complete lack of dust on any square inch of surface in the room. If Americans thought that ordinary British citizens were anal, a Watcher's zeal for orderly behavior would blow their minds. Still, my mind keeps coming back to the question of why I'm here in the first place.

Several times I've tried to answer that. And the only thing I can think of, is that this place represents what I've worked my whole first life to accomplishing: to make a difference in this world. They may be stuck-up, pompous and arrogant, but one thing their good at is helping to protect the world for those that seek to corrupt, consume, obliterate and dominate it. A grandiose idea, I'll admit, yet none the less true. And it also seems like the only place that I can go and still consider it familiar. Los Angeles is out of the question, and Sunnydale would not be so welcoming.

So here I am, in a place that apparently I was not worthy to be apart of in one life, now seeking acceptance in another.

[Angelina Dailyn Croft]

I seemed to spend ghastly amounts of time going between Sunnydale, California and England. All in the name of the Council. I loved my duties, positively adored what I did. But it was beginning to cut into my personal life. I'd had less and less time to train Zoey, let alone spend any quality time with her that didn't focus on her being a Slayer.

I'd recently arrived from yet another over-seas trip from Sunnydale. I must say, the Council's jet made good time in regards to the lengthy trip. With the new headquarters, my office space was much larger, including a small loft for those stays that lasted an indeterminate amount of time. Just large enough for Zoey and I. It was all thanks to Rupert and his foresight in such instances. He too spend quite a bit of time between the two bases.

Having already taken care of the business issues and miscellaneous papers awaiting me on the desk, I had begun to finish unpacking, as I would be in England for at least a week.

The cell phone nestled in the pocket of my causal slacks vibrated. It was the phone that was for Council business only. "Lina." I answered quickly, the phone tucked between my shoulder and my ear as I pulled clothes out of my luggage. "No, no need for that. I'll be right down. And for the love of the Queen will you treat the man with some form of bloody respect!" I flipped the phone shut and tucked it back into my pocket before leaving my loft & office to greet Wesley Wyndam-Pryce.

I'd only ever met the man in passing. I was already an established Senior Watcher, mostly due to family ties, and hence didn't necessarily have the opportunity to work closely with him. We knew of each other. Not nearly well enough to even be thought of as acquaintances. Given his history within The Council, his loyalty, the good, the bad, some reinstated Council members were filled with trepidation when it came to Wesley. I'd been brought up to date on his activities since he and The Council had separated. His work with Angel Investigations, and prior when he was, as he liked to be called "a rogue demon hunter." As well as the Angel Investigations members moving their operations to none other than Wolfram & Hart.

All in all, what I knew of Wesley, over all, won out. I believed him to still be loyal to causes he, himself believed in. And since I did not know him personally more than a passing glance, I felt I was in no position to judge the man, let alone judge him harshly.

I made my way down the stairs to the quarter sectioned off for visitors, lest a guest make their way into our protected areas where access to restricted knowledge lay. Wesley, in my humble opinion, did not merit being regulated to the visitation wing. And I would make it a point that I thought as much.

"Wesley Wyndam-Pryce," I extended my hand as I reached him. "Angelina Dailyn Croft, for a formal introduction, as it's been ages since we've even been in the same room together. Let me first off apologize for the fact that you've been directed here as a guest, when you already possess such intimate knowledge of our operations." I grinned to him. "If you don't much mind, may I suggest that we go on up to my office? I'd simple adore a glass of sherry after my long flight and perhaps I can offer you something as well?" I lead the way back to the encircling stairs and gestured for him to accompany me. "Would it be quite daft of me to inquire as to the nature of your visit, Wesley? If I may call you such. Mr. Wyndam-Pryce seems as if I'm addressing your father." I smirked. "Please, call me Lina."

We'd both spend enough years in The Council, and with the new order in place, I preferred that we address one another by first name. It was all too formal otherwise. I held no ill will toward a man I'd never personally known, the concept itself was foreign to me.

[Wesley Wyndam-Pryce]

Within this room, time seemed to slow down. I know that the clock at the side of the room was working just fine, as the steady ticking is the only sound that resonated throughout the area. Yet it felt like I was waiting forever for something to happen. Funny thing was, I wasn't sure what I was waiting for. For all I knew, they could be setting me up to be some sort of experiment, trying to determine how it is I'm alive and how best to dispose of me. All kidding aside, I was anxious to see what their reply to my arrival would be. Strange then that their reply was a somewhat familiar face coming to greet me with a handshake. I admit this wasn't exactly what I was expecting to see, with all the tight nit security screening one moment and then casual greetings the next.

"A sensible precaution, I imagine. Seeing as how I was considered a traitor for a time, and then died for another. Though I will say that they may take things a tad...above and beyond what may be recommended."

Rather blunt for someone whose wanting to start off on good graces, but still good enough disarmament of Miss Croft's concern. She then suggested that we adjourn back to her office, to which I nodded and followed her accordingly. Along the way she asks me why I came here, which is quite silly considering I've asked myself that quite a number of times already. Yet before I could answer her, she makes a slight reference to my father. An unintentional remake on her part, but still a rather grim reminder of something I had tried to forget about. My father both being one of the major reasons why I first became a Watcher, and the person I thought I had murdered once. A thought quickly dashed by Miss Croft and her remark to address her more casually.

"Certainly, Lina, though I'd almost say that that would be a more existential question at best. Well, to be honest, the question of my being here is something that I've been asking myself recently. Since my resurrection, I've been moving around quite a bit, making sure that my "former employers" were not able to locate me. A rather ridiculous notion, I admit, because of their otherworldly status.

"Still, my only thought for a time was running, and to my surprise I found myself coming here. Partly because LA was out of the question, and partly because I didn't think I'd be welcomed in Sunnydale. The last time I was in-contact with anyone from that group, it was made fairly clear that they didn't want any business with me or my comrades since we took over Wolfram & Hart. So considering all of that, I was left with one choice; the only other place in this world that seemed remotely....familiar."

About as cut and dry as one could make it, but thats probably the best answer one could give. Especially since my being here period could very well be a huge mistake.