"Not much. Feeling restless. Thought I'd get up and clean."

Wes shook his head. Gunn's eyebrows drew together. "Tell her to drink some tea," Gunn said. "Chamomile."

"Gunn says you should drink some chamomile tea," Wes offered.

"Tell him thanks, but I'd rather get on with the maniacal cleaning."

Wes shot Gunn a look. "Maniacal cleaning," he said.

Gunn nodded. "Works, too."

Wes hung up. "Dan pumped Cordy full of information right before she was attacked."

"Coincidence?" Gunn asked. He waved the Porky Pig head at Wes. "I might have thought so till we found out Porky was a spy."

"Something bigger than Kevin Wating is going on here," Wes said. "And I'd bet money Dan was in on it."

"And Genesys," Gunn said. "And don't forget Benny." He stared down at the Pez container. "Wonder who planted the bug?"

Wes shrugged. Then he got up, grabbed his jacket, and moved to the door. "No idea. But I'll bet our sources can pull up something on Dan." He patted his pocket for the checkbook. "Why don't we go find out?"

Gunn scooped the broken pieces of plastic and metal into the desk drawer and followed Wes out. The sun rolled over in the sky and pulled twilight's blanket over its shoulders. "Wonder if Angel found that vamp," Gunn said.

Wes rounded the hood and climbed into Gunn's truck. "Let's give him half an hour or so. Then we'll call him. Let him know what's going on."

Gunn hopped in and started the engine. It sputtered once, then growled. "Sounds like a plan to me."

***

VAST blasted out the speakers at top volume and Cordy scrubbed the inside of the toilet with vicious jabs.

The vision lingered around the edges of her consciousness like a pissed-off gang-banger, ready to blow her away for one, false move. She'd tried to sleep but ended up feeling restless and itchy. It left her just edgy enough *not* to roll over and play dead: thus the maniacal cleaning.

As she swished the toilet brush, the light glanced off the porcelain of the toilet and the bright surface faded into the shiny, white teeth of a grinning vamp. The lurking vision opened its jaws and swallowed her whole.

In her head the tall, undead Hispanic man danced around her, and she stood, screaming and alone, as he grabbed her by the hair and yanked her close enough to ram those gleaming fangs deep in her shoulder.

Then she flipped out of the vision and came back to herself. She paused to catch her breath and tried to relax, like her doctor had taught her. One breath, two, three, and her pounding heart started to slow. She rested her arm across the toilet seat and let her head drop against it.

Good thing there was no one here to see these little synaptic breaks. Except Dennis. Over her shoulder she could feel him hovering so she swatted her toilet brush at him then went back to scrubbing.

Then the first beats of Pretty When You Cry started up and her heart raced again. "You're made of my rib, or baby, you're made of my sin." Every time she heard it now she thought of Angel and she didn't sing it so much as rage it.

"I didn't want to hurt you baby. I didn't want to hurt you. I didn't want to hurt you but you're pretty when you cry--" She dropped the brush back in its holder and spun on her knees to reach for her rag on the floor behind her.

Out of the corner of her eye, a shadow moved. A tingle shot up her spine and she screamed instinctively and scrambled back, rubber- gloved hands in the air.

"Whoa, Cordy, it's me." Angel stepped across the threshold and squatted next to her, his black coat draping around him on the water- spattered floor.

She slapped his reaching hands away. "Don't touch me."

He scooted back but didn't mask the look of pure hurt on his face.

Cordy scrambled to her feet and over the harsh smell of Comet she could pick up the cinnamon-sweet scent of fight-warm vamp. "What do you want, Angel?"

He rose, towering over her. "I--" He stared at her for several, long beats, then dropped his gaze to his big, black boots. "I just wanted to tell you that the vamps were taken of. So you wouldn't, you know, worry."

Sure enough, the vision-trails dissipated like fog in the sun. And the headache drained out from behind her eyes so fast she stumbled.

Angel caught her, then, at her look, carefully let go of her arm. "I was just worried," he said quietly. "I'll go now." He spun and started for the door.

Cordy stepped out of the bathroom and watched him walk down the hall. "Dennis," she whispered. "Music." The silence was so sudden it rang in her ears.

Angel put his hand flat on the door. "You never locked me out," he said.

Even from fifteen feet away she could hear the wisps of hope and wonder in his voice. "More fool, me."

His shoulders stiffened and he turned the knob.

Her conscience gave her a good, hard poke. "Angel, wait."

He stilled, half-in and half-out of the entryway.

She shucked off the rubber gloves and threw them on the bathroom floor. Then she went to the door and put her hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry," she said.

He looked at her, and for one moment, she saw the winter reflected on his face. The isolation, the loneliness. The brutal, overpowering rage that left him helpless to do anything but shut them out and fight his fight alone. Her soul *felt* it.

"God, I'm *so* sorry," she repeated.

There was a long beat as they stared at each other. Then Angel smiled, one of those bright, wonderful grins that were as rare as her mother's Bali Queen orchids and probably more beautiful.

Angel's phone rang once, twice, and still he stared at her, smiling.

"You gonna answer that?" she asked breathlessly.

He reached into his pocket without looking and flipped the phone open. "Yeah. Hey, Merl." He broke Cordy's gaze to nod at something Merl said. "Really? So the guy who met with Benny wasn't Kevin? Do you know his name?" He shook his head and mouthed the word, 'Dumbass' at Cordy.

She smiled, still buzzing on the aftereffects of Angel's grin. She'd forgotten what it was like; how it melted every bit of resolve in her system. It occurred to her then that the problem had never been about letting Angel in—it was keeping him from taking over her life from the inside out.

Angel's eyes narrowed. "Blond hair and glasses?" He glanced at Cordy.

"Dan?" she asked, surprise rippling through her. "That can't be right."

"Cordy says no way." A line appeared between Angel's eyebrows. "You're sure? Okay. We'll meet you at Caritas." He closed the phone and dropped it in his pocket. "Merl says it was Dan. He recognized him from the description. Which fits in with what Wes told me about your experience this afternoon." His forehead wrinkled. "Dammit."

"What?" Cordy was still trying to connect the dots between the guy she'd met and whoever had had Kevin killed.

"We need to find Benny. If Dan set Kevin up, then who's to say he wouldn't have set you up, too?" He narrowed his eyes, obviously thinking.

"Just because he told me everything? I'm a detective and I was trying to help his friend. Couldn't he have been trying to help us catch Kevin's killer?"

Angel nodded. "But if you knew too much, then you'd become a threat to both Genesys and the potential buyers." He looked at Cordy. "Either he was trying to help us find Kevin's killer, or he was very neatly tying off his loose ends."

Cordy shook her head. "Dan wouldn't do it. He was too nice, too normal."

"It's the normal ones you have to watch out for."

She shook her head. "Can I just say that sometimes my job totally sucks?"

"I'm sorry about that." Angel looked at his feet. "If you hadn't inherited the visions--" His voice sounded gruff.

"Not your fault," she said. "Besides, I like the visions. In a they're-ripping-my-head-in-half sort of way."

He glanced at her from under his lashes. "I don't deserve your forgiveness--"

"Hey, that wasn't total forgiveness, pal." She crossed her arms over her chest. "You're still scoring pretty high on Cordy's list of doom."

"As long as I've dropped somewhere below--I don't know--Charles Manson." He brushed her arm with his fingertips. "You do a good job of taking care of yourself." He smiled ruefully. "Sometimes too good."

She tensed, wondering just how long he'd been watching her earlier. But when she searched his face she found no deeper meaning.

Besides, she thought. What would have seen? Her terrible singing, maniacal cleaning and the fact that she was tired? Like anyone with eyes and ears couldn't figure that out, anyway. She realized he was still looking at her, expecting a response. "Hey, kinda my job, you know?"

He shook his head. "It should be mine, though." He stepped into the hall. "I'm gonna go track down Merl." He stuck his hands in his pants pockets, flaring his duster around his forearms in such a typical Angel gesture that it actually hurt to look at him. "Stay here, where it's safe."

She shook her head. "No way. I'm going with you."

"Cordy--"

She held up a hand. "Nope. Not sitting around by myself waiting for Benny to find me. Besides, we just concluded that I can take pretty good care of myself." She shot him her best, steely glare. "So I'm going. Got it?"

He sighed. "Fine. Just stick close."

She grabbed her bag and her jacket. "Like glue."

***

"Till April in Paris," Lorne sang. The spotlight cocooned him in that other world, the one he went to when he got lost in a song. "Who can I run to?" He shifted, letting his arms lift, feeling the music surge through him. "What have you done to my heart?"

The last notes died away, leaving the bar in near silence. Then the warm, golden tide of applause flowed toward the stage. He stood up from the tall stool he'd been sitting on and laid the mike down, turning to let the applause wash over him. It built on the surge the song had started and crested somewhere in his soul—and he laughed and bowed, taking in the energy and the love from the group before him.

This was why he performed. It wasn't about ego; it was about connection. And he was getting it in spades tonight. He stepped off the stage and started working his way to the bar.

Speaking of connections, he thought, catching a glimpse of Angel as he shouldered his way through the crowd. Behind him Lorne could just see the crown of Cordelia's head. Neither of them hummed a tune but even without the aural clue he sensed that something had shifted. Much of the haunted look had disappeared from Angel's eyes, and he could see that Angel held Cordelia's hand so they didn't get separated in the crowd. Lorne smiled.

"Angelcakes!" he yelled over the crowd noise. Angel caught his eye and nodded. Lorne pointed to the office door and motioned them in that direction. They slipped behind the bar and shortcutted to the back room. Lorne closed the door and the noise dropped radically.

"Hey, there, you April fools," he said.

Cordy arched an eyebrow. "Guess that explains yours SRO crowd." She had dark circles under her eyes and her hair looked flat on one side— like she'd been trying to sleep and hadn't had much luck.

Lorne frowned at her. "You look zonked, kiddo," he said. Now that he was closer, he could feel the tension radiating off of her like the sun off hot sand.

"Hey, thanks." She smoothed her hair. "Always like to know I'm looking my best."

Angel cut his eyes at her. "She had a vision."

"Oh, sweetie." He glanced at Angel. "You take care of it?"

Angel nodded. "His dust is getting sucked up by street sweepers even as we speak."

Lorne nodded. "Glad to hear you're back in the saddle." He knew how hard the winter had been for Cordy and the rest of the crew; he also knew just how deep and dark Angel's abyss had been. It wasn't a lie or an understatement to say he was glad they were walking side-by- side again. "Any word on Kevin?"

Cordy nodded. "Someone from Genesys was trying to sell a biotech thingy called PEZ on the black market. We're pretty sure whoever it was had Kevin killed."

Lorne leaned against the desk. "Who did it, then?" The phone buzzed but he ignored it; Julio would pick it up.

"We think it was Dan," Angel said. He glanced at Cordy. "Well, Merl thinks it was Dan. Cordy doesn't, though."

"What's the hold-up, pup?"

Angel shrugged. "Word from Merl is that a blond-haired guy with glasses met with the potential buyers."

Lorne raised his eyebrows. "Sounds like Dan. But there are lots of blond haired guys with glasses in the world." Dan always seemed just as laid-back and normal as Kevin. But then, Dan never sang for him, either. Lorne could get a pretty good bead on most people even without a tune, but intuition only stretched so far.

"I still think we're jumping to conclusions," Cordy said. "Dan seemed genuinely upset by what happened to Kevin. I can't imagine—"

"We're not jumping to conclusions—" Angel cut in.

"Yes, we are," Cordy said. "We're jumping to Dan-told-Benny-and-now-there's-a-hit-on-Cordy conclusions." She crossed her arms and glared at him.

"Look, I'm just trying to keep you safe—"

"Which isn't your job, Angel."

"Kids," Lorne said. "I'm just gonna step on the brakes here before we skid out of control." He shook his head. "I thought you'd put all your dark days behind you."

"Partly cloudy, chance of rain," Cordy said, shooting Angel a look. Then she sighed and pressed a hand to her head. "I'm sorry. I'm tired, I'm stressed. My head is killing me. I just want to get this case solved so I can go home and get some sleep."

"Understood," Lorne said. The phone buzzed again. This time he looked down at it and realized it was the intercom. He punched the speaker phone button. "Yeah, bubbe, what can I do for you?"

The ambient crowd from the bar muffled Julio's voice. "Uh, boss? Thought you might want to know we have some gangland activity in the building." Julio sounded spooked, and it took a lot to spook that six- foot-five piece of man-meat.

Lorne pursed his lips. "Demon or human?"

"Demon. Koreatown Benny's boys. Snooping around, asking questions."

"I'll be right out."

Angel moved toward the door. "I'll go with you. Cordy, you stay here till we know what they want."

She looked like she wanted to argue on principle, but then she nodded. "Okay. But only because there's a chance you're right, and I'm too tired to cross the line from courage to stupidity right now." She arched a brow. "But if I don't hear from you in five minutes, I'm coming out."

Angel nodded and he and Lorne slipped out the door.

"Goons, three o'clock," Lorne said, spotting them across the room. One of them leaned over a table, deep in conversation with the Bentback seated there. The other scoped the crowd, obviously looking for someone.

Lorne strolled up to them. "Welcome to Caritas," he said, holding out his hand in his best host-ly fashion. "Don't believe we've met."

The goon with the Bentback stood…and stood and stood. By the time he got up to his full height, he was nearly three feet taller than Lorne. "Gosh, I'm gonna need a chiropractor just to serve you a beer," Lorne said. He felt Angel's cool weight behind him and was glad for it.

"Don't need a beer. Looking for a girl."

Lorne's eyebrows rose. "If I had a quarter for every time I heard that...."

The guy didn't even crack a smile. "Name's Cordelia Chase. Hear she comes in with her friends occasionally."

Lorne put his hand behind him and grabbed Angel's arm. Information- before-bloodshed was a rule he liked to live by.

"I know Cordelia." He glanced around the room, pretending to scan the crowd. "Haven't seen her tonight, though. Can I give her a message?"

The shorter guy pulled a card out of his pocket and handed it to Lorne. "Tell her Benny wants to have a word with her. If she don't call him, he'll call her." He smiled, showing a gap where his front incisor should have been.

Lorne took the card and slipped it surreptitiously to Angel. "Sure thing," he said. Just then, his office door opened and Cordy stuck her head out.

Angel must have noticed, too, because he cleared his throat and stepped out from behind Lorne. "So, how is Benny?"

"Hey," the shorter one said. "Ain't you that vampire?" He snapped his fingers. "Albert? Andrew?" Then a light went off behind his dim eyes. "Angel! That's it!" He looked up at his cohort and grinned. "The vampire with a soul."

The tall goon stared down at Angel. "Not the one Cordelia works for?"

Just then, Cordy spotted them. "Excuse me," Lorne said. "I just have to go take care of, uh, thing." He scooted through the crowd and aimed for the door, where Cordy stood, silhouetted by the light. He made shooing motions at her. "Get back inside," he hissed. He looked over his shoulder and saw the big guy grab Angel by the lapels and hoist him into the air.

"Hey, that guy's hurting Angel!" Cordy surged out and pushed past Lorne toward Benny's boys.

Lorne grabbed her arm. "They're looking for you! It's Benny's goons!"

She paled. "Oh, crap."

He shoved her toward the office. "Get back in there before they—"

"Too late," she said breathlessly.

Lorne glanced back just in time to see Angel hit the floor and the mobsters start toward Cordy. "Oy vey," he said.

Just then, Angel popped up on the stage and picked up the mike. "Sorry," he mouthed.

"What for?" Lorne watched in horror as Angel did the one thing you never wanted to do in a crowded bar.

"Next round of drinks is on the house," Angel called into the mike.

The crowd paused, as if absorbing the information, then rushed the bar. Benny's men got swept up in the flow, even as Cordy sprinted behind the bar and toward the stairs. Angel, whose path from the stage had cleared, too, followed her.

Lorne squeaked and grabbed the mike off the floor. "April Fool's!" he yelled. "Hey, April Fool's!" He waved his arms, but the lure of free drinks was too great. He dropped the mike to his side. "You owe me!" he yelled at Angel's back. Then he stepped off the stage and went to help tend bar.

***

"He must not be home," Gunn whispered. He had his hands cupped around his eyes and was peering into the downstairs windows of Dan's house.

"It's well after eight. You'd think he'd be back by now," Wes said.

"Let's see what we can find." Gunn broke out the gloves and the lock picking tools. Then he stopped, thinking. "Seems like the type of guy who has an alarm," he said.

Wes nodded. "Maybe we should check his mail, first. See if there's anything interesting."

The street was dark and quiet. The flickering light of TVs filled the windows and Gunn could smell food cooking on a grill somewhere in the neighborhood. He snuck down to the mailbox, slipped the mail out, and met Wes in the truck.

Wes pulled a small flashlight from his pocket, turned it on, and held it in his mouth. They flipped quickly through the mail. "Ah ha," Wes said. He took a letter from the stack, slid his pocket knife under the edge of the flap and pulled out a piece of paper. "'ank shtatemnt," he said.

"Huh?" Gunn leaned over, trying to get a closer look.

Wes pulled the flashlight out of his mouth. "Bank statement." He showed it to Gunn.

Gunn whistled. "Someone's got a little side business going." He took the paper and looked at the logo. "Not a local bank, either. He's trying to hide his deposits."

Wes nodded and slipped the statement back in the envelope. Then he licked the flap, sealed the letter, and returned the mail to the box. "That's enough for me," he said, getting back in the truck.

"Pretty circumstantial, though," Gunn commented.

"We need to catch him in the act." Wes buckled his seat belt.

"Let's go find him, then," Gunn said, starting the engine and pulling out onto the street.

"Caritas?"

"Good a place as any."

***

Angel and Cordy burst out the door and bolted down the sidewalk. Angel tugged her hand, guiding her toward the car. "Come on!" He had to slow his pace so she could keep up and was considering picking her up and carrying her when they rounded the corner. And ran right into a hard wall of flesh.

Cordy and Angel went tumbling. Angel instinctively tucked Cordy's head in his hand and rolled so she landed on top of him. They hit the concrete with a skull-rattling thud.

"Ow! Son of a *bitch*!"

The voice sounded familiar. Angel looked over and found himself face- to-face with someone's tennis shoe. "Merl?"

Merl rolled over onto his back and stared at the sky. "I should have known," he whined. Next to him, Andy flopped and gasped like a beached whale.

Angel pushed Cordy onto the sidewalk and leapt to his feet. Cordy rubbed her head. "Well, that took care of my headache." She glared at Merl. "In exactly the way that it *didn't*!"

"Hey, wasn't my fault! If the bloodsucker had watched where he was going—"

"Sorry, guys," Angel broke in. "No time to recriminate." He grabbed Cordy's hand and pulled her up. "Come on, we have to get you out of here." The breeze brought him the scent of the tall mobster's cologne. "They're coming."

"Wait! Wait!" Merl squawked and climbed to his feet. "I have info!"

"You'll have to tell me on the fly," Angel said, and took off at a dead run, dragging Cordy behind him.

About half a block later he heard Merl panting behind him. "In here," he said, ducking into a corner store. The Korean shopkeeper stared at them open-mouthed. "We need to borrow your stock room," Angel said.

He ran through the aisle and down the short hall. The door to the stockroom was locked, so he broke the knob and shoved Cordy inside. Merl jumped in behind them, Andy hot on his heels.

The shopkeeper ran down the aisle waving his hands. "What are you doing? Stop!"

Angel pulled out a handful of money and handed it to the man. "Give us a minute. That should cover the lock. We won't steal anything, okay?"

The shopkeeper's eyes glazed over at the sight of the money. "No problem," he said. "Take all the time you need."

Angel stepped into the stockroom and looked around. There was another door to what was probably the back alley, but no windows. They weren't trapped, but their exit possibilities were limited. He pinned Merl with his gaze. "Talk fast," he said.

"Saw--" Merl put his hands on his knees, bending over to pant. "Saw that guy--" Another deep breath. "You were looking for. Kevin's friend."

Angel's skin prickled. "We gotta get out of here. They're close."

"Angel," Cordy said. "If they saw Dan, we need to go track him down."

Angel took about two seconds to think it over. "You're right." He grabbed the car keys from his coat pocket and pitched them to her. "You take Merl and Andy. Find Dan. Don't try to talk to him. Just lay low and keep him in your sight." He eyeballed Merl and Andy. "Anything happens to her and you're dead."

Merl tugged his collar. "I'm not sure I want—"

"Don't really care," Angel said, shoving him toward the door. "Go," he said to Cordy. "NOW!"

"What are you gonna do?" she asked, heading for the exit.

"Take care of Benny's boys."

"Benny's boys?" Andy said. "No one ever said anything about—"

"Now!" Angel yelled. "I'll find you!"

They bolted.

***

The car was parked three blocks over. They skimmed through the dark alleys and side streets, avoiding any place well-lit, and finally made it to the Plymouth.

"Get in," Cordy said. She unlocked the driver's door, then slid over and popped the locks on the passenger doors. Merl hopped in next to her and Andy climbed in the back. Cordy started the car and gunned the gas. They took off, fishtailing, into light traffic.

Merl grabbed the door handle. "Who taught you to drive? Jeez!"

She looked over her shoulder, but couldn't see any sign of Angel or the goons anywhere. "Okay, where was Dan?"

"We passed him on the way to Caritas. Turn right!"

Cordy whipped across two lanes, barely missing a motorcycle. The guy swerved and yelled. Even though his helmet muffled the sound, she figured he wasn't saying `thanks.'

"Why the rush?" She straightened the car's nose and held the growling horses between the lines.

"Sorry," Merl said. "Like I was saying, we were on our way to Caritas—"

"For dinner," Andy said.

"Right," Merl agreed. "You made us miss dinner."

Cordy huffed and pressed down on the accelerator. "You can make Angel buy you dinner. But now you're gonna tell me where you saw Dan."