The fighting in the damp dark alley was getting serious. Angel was dealing with three vamps, and Wesley was holding his own against two more. With a swift kick Wesley managed to down one of them. He brought his stake down hard, dead center, and a satisfying cloud of dust was all that remained of his opponent. With a back swing he planted it again, into the demon coming up behind him, with similar results. He quickly looked for Cordelia, who had been at his side when the fight broke out. She was managing to fend off one of the creatures but another one was coming up behind her, and she hadn't seen it yet. Quickly Wesley sprinted over to her and pushed her aside. Suddenly, there was a sharp pain at the back of his head, and everything went dark.

******

"Do you think he's gonna be alright?" Cordelia was bent over the unconscious Wesley, looking very concerned.

"He took a hard knock to the head, but it doesn't look too serious. We'd better move him outta here, in case there's more of those guys around." Angel looked nervously over his shoulder, for either more vampires or the police - neither of which would be welcome at the moment. He hefted the ex-watcher over his shoulder and made his way to the car, depositing Wesley in the back seat.

"He saved my life, you know. If he hadn't gone after that vamp..." Cordelia was still a bit shaken, as she kneeled on the front seat, peering anxiously at Wesley. "Shouldn't he be waking up by now?"

"Look, lets take him back to the office, and if he isn't awake in a few hours, you can take him to the hospital. It really doesn't look too bad, and I'd hate to arouse suspicion if its not necessary."

Fifteen minutes later, Angel had taken Wesley's inert form down to his apartment beneath Angel Investigations and deposited him on the bed. He started to leave, and then on second thought, returned to remove Wesley's glasses and shoes and lay a blanket over him. He turned around again to find Cordelia smiling at him.

"What?"

"Oh, nothing. Just not used to seeing your maternal side. It's kinda sweet."

Angel chose to ignore her. "Okay, you stay here with Wesley and I'm gonna go back to make sure we've cleaned out that Vamp nest. If he isn't better in a few hours, get him to a hospital." With that, he turned on his heels and was gone.

******

Twenty minutes of watching Wesley sleep and Cordelia's patience was already wearing thin. When she heard the office phone ringing she couldn't get upstairs fast enough. It was her agent, informing her of a last minute opening for a national commercial audition. The glitch - she had to be there in half an hour. In typical Cordelia fashion, she reasoned she could be there and back within 2 hours. If Wesley was still asleep it wouldn't have mattered that she left. If he was awake, then he was okay and didn't need her there. She peeked in on him one more time and, grabbing her purse, she was out the door.

******

(a half hour later)

Wesley awoke with a start and had no idea where he was. A quick look around didn't help, as nothing in the room looked familiar.

'Where on earth am I? And why am I lying in bed with these filthy clothes on?'

He stood up and the room started to spin. He quickly sat back down on the bed, and realized the booming noise he was hearing was coming from inside his head. He was in desperate need of an aspirin - or ten. He made his way to the bathroom to look in the medicine cabinet.

'Funny, no mirror. Ah, here's the aspirin.' He shook out three of them and chased them down with a glass of water. He then felt tenderly around the sizable lump on the back of his head. 'Perhaps this is why I can't remember where I am....or......WHO I am?????' His brow furrowed as he tried to remember something - anything - about himself. It was all a blank. He looked down at himself and was sure of one thing. He couldn't stand wearing these filthy clothes one minute more. He quickly stripped them off, leaving them in a heap on the floor, and jumped into the shower. It felt wonderful to let the water jet over his naked body. The lack of memory wasn't bothering him as much as he would have thought.

After a thorough scrubbing, the tall thin man finally emerged from the shower, and wrapped himself in a towel. Water still dripped from his dark brown hair and ran down his back and legs, but he couldn't find another towel nearby. He was about to go in search of something to wear when his stomach growled. 'Right. Food first, then clothes.' He located the refrigerator and opened it up. "Good Lord!" His mouth hung wide open. The refrigerator contained nothing but containers of what could only be blood. Quickly, he shut the door and then opened it again. Nothing had changed, so he shut it again. Cautiously, he turned around and began to survey his surroundings more closely. There were no windows or mirrors anywhere in the apartment. Nothing to eat; only blood to drink. No crosses or religious icons of any kind. He began to search through the closets and cabinets. What he found disturbed him even more. Lots of dark clothing and many weapons, of all shape and size. A realization hit him suddenly.

'There's no other explanation. I must be a vampire!'

Wesley's hand flew up to check his teeth. They seemed normal. "Maybe I just don't remember how to bring the fangs down." He looked down and realized he was still wearing nothing but a towel. He took that off and examined his body closely. "I'm certainly pale enough to be a vampire. Who else would be living in LA and not have some kind of tan? Funny, I don't feel....dead. Still, it does seem to be the most logical explanation." The now naked man decided it would be a good idea to find some clothes and investigate further. Memory loss not withstanding, his instincts for researching and questioning were still intact. He put on black pants and a black long sleeved shirt, and the pair of shoes sitting by the side of the bed. He also ran a comb through his hair. 'No reason not to keep up a tidy appearance, although these trousers do seem to be a tad short. Ah well, they'll do for now' He was still hungry, but decided he wasn't quite ready yet to try drinking the blood he'd found. Instead, he wandered over to the elevator and decided to see what was upstairs.

******

"Hmmm, it seems I run some kind of business out of here." He'd found that speaking out loud helped him think things out better. Besides, he didn't feel quite as alone, even if it was his own voice he was listening to. He learned one thing right away. He was apparently British, which surprised him a bit. He took a quick look around the office, and noticed three desks. "So, I must also have employees. Very strange, all of this. I wonder if they're vampires too?" Of course, there were no mirrors upstairs either, but he did come across a photo sitting on one of the desks. It was of three people: a tall dark haired man, a beautiful woman with long brown hair, and a rather short young man, also with dark hair. They seemed to be at a restaurant, and were all holding up wine glasses, in a toast. Wesley turned the photo over and on the back it read 'Angel Investigations: Angel, me and Doyle; celebrating our first paying customer'

"Well, I seem to be too tall to be this Doyle fellow, so I must be Angel." 'Angel' The name was stirring up foggy memories in Wesley's mind. 'Angel...Angelus' "Of course! Angel...the vampire with a soul!" It was as if the final piece to the puzzle had fallen into place. "That's the reason for the blood supply downstairs. The soul undoubtedly keeps me from wanting to kill people. My memory must be coming back, as I'm remembering quite a bit about it all now. Once evil, then cursed by gypsies. Oh dear, no wonder I didn't want to remember it all...I wonder what kind of investigating I do..." As if on cue, there was a *knock* on the outer office door and a young blonde woman shyly stuck her head in the door.

"Excuse me, please. Is this Angel Investigations?"

"Yes it is." Wesley ushered her inside. "Come right on in. I'm Angel. How may I help you?"

The woman hesitated a beat, then came in. "I can't tell you how grateful I am that you agreed to meet with me at this late hour. Your assistant, Cordelia I think her name was, said you actually preferred later office hours, because of the nature of your business."

'Cordelia. Must be the woman in the picture' "Please have a seat... what seems to be the problem?"

"Well, as I told your assistant, I've been having trouble with an ex-boyfriend of mine. He just won't stay away from me, and I'm afraid he's going to hurt me. He can be pretty violent, especially when he's been drinking. A co-worker had heard of your agency and said if anyone could stop him, it would be you."

"And the police have been no help in this matter?"

The woman looked confused, and blushed slightly. "I really didn't think they could help me...I mean, because of what he is. Not that I knew he was half-demon when I met him. He saved that little surprise for me until after I moved in with him, or I never would have gotten involved!"

'AH, so I specialize in otherworldly problems. Makes sense' "I would be happy to assist you in this matter. Perhaps if I went and had a 'little chat' with him, I could make him see reason. Why don't you write down his address and other known haunts and I'll see what I can do."

The woman eyed him a bit skeptically. This guy didn't seem to be tough enough to make anyone 'see reason' but then again, experience had taught her that looks could be deceiving. Roy had seemed quiet and gentle enough at first. She wrote out all the information she could, including the phone number of the friend she was staying with. Wesley reassured her he would get right on it and sent her home. The sun had just set, so he went back downstairs to arm himself and started to head out the door.

"Damn, do I have a car? If I do, I don't seem to have the keys...and I wouldn't even recognize it. Oh well, guess I'll just have to take a cab."

Cordelia slipped back into the office. No sign of Angel or Wesley upstairs. She quickly took the elevator down to Angel's apartment to check on Wesley. She really hadn't planned on being gone so long and was a bit worried about him. She stopped suddenly at the sight of the empty bed.

"Wesley? Where are you? Are you in the bathroom. Speak now, cause I'm coming in there." No answer. She looked inside and saw the pile of dirty laundry on the floor, but no Wesley. "Damn, now where could he have gone?" Going back to the bedroom she noticed that his shoes were gone, but his glasses remained on the bedside table. "Now that's weird. Where would Mr. Myopic go without his glasses?...or his CLOTHES for that matter?" Just then, a voice spoke up behind her. Of course she practically jumped out of her shoes.

"Cordelia, I just got back. Where's Wesley? Is he okay? I didn't see him upstairs."

Cordelia turned slowly around, to face her employer. Guilt was written all over her face. "Oops!"

Angel, recognizing that look, frowned at Cordelia. "Oops? What does 'oops' mean exactly? Just where IS Wesley?"

"Uhm, well...I guess I kinda...lost him."

"Excuse me?! You were sitting right here with him the whole time. Just how did you.....you WERE sitting here with him the whole time, weren't you?"

"Well, yeah...er, for a while...look, how was I supposed to know he was gonna get up and LEAVE while I was gone. I wasn't gone that long, and it was a NATIONAL after all."

Angel was quick at putting two and two together - he was beginning to understand how Cordelia's mind worked, which frightened him. He tried to remain calm. "So, you left Wesley here to go to an audition, is that what you're trying not to tell me?"

Cordelia hung her head sheepishly, and Angel could tell she was sorry, even if she didn't say it. She surprised him though.

"Angel, I'm sorry. You were so sure he was going to be fine, and when they called me I just...I didn't think. Maybe he is okay. He obviously got up and walked out of here. Maybe he's just gone home to sleep in his own bed."

"Yeah, you could be right. Give him a call."

There was no answer at Wesley's place, even though Cordelia let the phone right 20 times. She kept hoping he'd walk in the door any second and pick up. She was feeling very guilty and worried. After all, Wesley had gotten hurt while protecting her. 'Mental note: when we find him, be nicer to Wesley for a while' She sat down, defeated, on the couch and noticed a piece of paper on the table in front of her.

"Angel c'mere. This is weird."

Angel joined her on the couch and eyed the paper. He looked at her quizzingly. "I don't recognize the name. Who is she?"

"Kristen Moss. She called here this morning. You were supposed to have a meeting with her tonight. Oops. by the way, you had an appointment with a client about half an hour ago. Sorry again. But, I didn't write this note. She must have come here. Do you suppose she talked to Wesley? Maybe he went to help her?"

Angel took the paper and phoned the number written on it. After several minutes of hearing "I see" and "Uh huh", etc. Cordelia was ready to grab the phone out of his hand. Finally, Angel hung up, looking more confused than ever.

"Well? What did she say? Did she meet with Wesley? Does she know where he is?"

"Whoa, slow down! I'm still trying to figure this out....Apparently, Ms Moss came here and met someone who introduced himself as me..er, as Angel. She described Wesley perfectly. She gave him information about her ex-boyfriend and he said he'd take care of it for her and sent her home. That's the last she heard from him, and that was an hour ago....This doesn't make sense. Why would Wesley pretend to be me and go out on a case alone? Has he said anything to you, or seemed - I don't know - restless or anything?"

"Nope, same old reliable Wesley. It would be just like him to pull a stunt like this, just to get me...uhm...us worried about him. It would serve him right if he got his ass kicked by that demon boyfriend of hers."

"Demon? She didn't mention that to me. I think we'd better find Wesley, and fast, before this gets way out of hand. Grab that address while I get the weapons."

"Oh all right," Cordelia muttered to herself. "Another fun-filled Saturday night, in the company of the broody and undead. I just gotta get a social life."

Wesley paused outside the seedy looking bar. Above him a neon sign reading "Stubbs" flickered on and off, sporadically. This was the last address the client had given him, and with any luck he would find Mr. Roy Ames inside. He checked his pockets and was reassured by the bulk of the small crossbow, knife and, of course, wooden stake. He wasn't sure what kind of demon Roy was, but felt confident that he was no match for as skilled a warrior as he, Angelus, was. After all, he hadn't survived over 240 years on luck. He pushed open the door, and tried not to cringe as it squeaked loudly and all eyes in the bar turned towards him. To his left, several burly men in grungy tank tops were playing pool. Several others, similarly attired, sat at various tables and at the bar. The bartender was the biggest of them all - a frighteningly huge bald man, with tattoos down both arms. All conversation had halted, and it seemed like they were all waiting to hear what Wesley had to say. He cleared his throat and tried to be as menacing as possible.

"All right. I'm looking for Roy Ames. If you know what's good for you, you'll tell me where he is."

One of the men at the pool table stepped forward, brandishing a cue stick menacingly. "Who wants to know?"

"If you are Mr. Ames, perhaps we could step outside. It is a rather personal matter."

Laughter erupted throughout the bar. Roy sneered at Wesley. "Mr. Ames? Only the bill collectors call me that. I sure hope you're not one of them."

"My name is Angel, of Angel Investigations, and I've been hired by Ms. Moss. She wants you to leave her alone. She doesn't want to see you anymore."

"And just who'd gonna stop me? YOU?" More laughter. He made a move towards Wesley with the cue stick and Wesley pulled out the crossbow. Roy stopped dead in his tracks. "Hey, we're all men here. Let's settle this like men. We don't need to resort to weapons."

Wesley hesitated, then set down the crossbow. 'He doesn't know what I am, so I should be able to take him by surprise.' "This is your last chance to back off. Don't say I didn't warn you." Suddenly, Wesley made his move, running at Roy, full speed. Just as suddenly he felt the room spinning, as he was flipped up over Roy's head, landing on his back on the pool table. He managed to scramble to his feet, and stood on the table, looking down at the large group of men, ready to tear him apart.

'What went wrong? I've obviously overlooked some key element here.' He was still pondering what to do, when his thoughts were interrupted by a loud *crash* and the flying glass and splinters of wood of a door being smashed off its hinges. A vampire in full game face came charging through the wreckage. 'Ah, no doubt one of my associates, alerted by my predicament.'

Most of the crowd at the bar took one look at Angel and fled. The rest formed a group, with Roy at the center. Angel growled.

"Now, you can let my friend go, and we can end this peacefully...." One of the thugs made a sudden lunge at Angel, only to be lifted over his head and smashed into the bar. "...or we can do it the hard way." All hell broke loose. Fists - and bodies - were flying as Angel easily began to dispatch his human attackers. Even Cordelia, hovering in the doorway, got into the act, smashing anyone coming close to her with a large section of what was once the door. Wesley was all but forgotten, still standing on the pool table, and Cordelia was trying, unsuccessfully, to get his attention.

"Wesley?! What are you doing up there? Get your boney butt down here and help!"

Roy had wisely backed away from the fray and was looking for a way out. As he neared the pool table, Wesley saw his chance and leaped onto the half-demon's back, promptly trying - ineffectually - to bite Roy's neck. 'Damn! Still no fangs' He was in danger of getting thrown off, when he remembered the knife on his belt. He pulled it out and sank it up to its hilt into his opponent's back. Roy's face wore an expression of stunned surprise, moments before he collapsed to the floor, taking Wesley with him. The one remaining fighter, seeing this, fled to the door, only to be knocked unconscious by Cordelia. Angel went over to help Wesley stand up and he and Cordelia just stared with surprise at the ex-watcher, turned rogue demon hunter. Cordelia, naturally, was the first to find her voice again.

"What do you think you were doing...running off like that on your own. Were you trying to get yourself killed?...and what in the world are you wearing?"

Wesley frowned thoughtfully. "You must be Cordelia. And you sir?" He turned to Angel, who morphed out of game face and exchanged puzzled looks with the girl next to him.

"Er, Wes, are you alright? I mean, I suppose its okay if you needed to borrow some clothes, but...what do you mean 'you must be Cordelia'? Don't you know who we are?" An idea was brewing in his mind. "Who are you?"

"Why, I'm Angel. Head of Angel Investigations, and I assume you two work for me." Cordelia quickly covered her mouth, and tried to change her laugh into a cough. Angel himself could barely contain his grin.

To Cordelia: "That bump on the head must have affected him more than we thought."

"Gee, I dunno. Ya think?" was Cordelia's sarcastic whisper back.

"Uhm, Wesley. I don't know how to tell you this...but, I'M Angel, and YOU work for ME."

"But, I don't understand. My apartment...the blood in the refrigerator...no mirrors..Angel Investigations...."

"You got knocked on the head earlier today, and you were resting at my place. SOMEONE was supposed to be watching you...."

"How do I know you're telling me the truth? Maybe you're one of them, trying to trick me."

Cordelia looked around and saw what she needed. "Wesley come here. If you were a vampire, you wouldn't have a reflection, right?" When he nodded she took him by the shoulders and faced him towards the mirror covering the wall behind the bar. "Well, guess what. One of the three of us isn't reflected here, and its not you."

Wesley stared at his reflection in the mirror, and was somewhat disappointed. 'THAT'S what I look like? No wonder no one was afraid of me' "You mean...I'm not even a vampire...and I came here to fight that demon...and all those men...and I could have been killed at any time...." All this information was too much for Wesley's already sensitive mind to handle and he did the only thing his body would allow - he fainted.

Angel sighed and shrugged, as he picked Wesley up and slung him over his shoulder. "This is getting old."

Cordelia was chuckling. "Imagine Wesley thinking he was you! This is gonna be fun!"

Angel tried to look sternly at his employee. "Now Cordelia, none of this would have happened if you had stayed with him in the first place. We're lucky he didn't get hurt, or killed. I suggest you remember that before you start giving Wesley a hard time tomorrow."

Cordelia put on her most innocent face, behind her still twinkling eyes. "Oh, sure boss. I will." She smothered another giggle, as they headed back to the car.

******

Epilogue: The Next Morning/P>

Wesley awoke with a start, and was surprised to find himself in Angel's bedroom. He tried to get up, but seemed to be stuck on something.

"Excuse me! What's going on here? Why am I chained to Angel's bed....and what am I doing wearing these ridiculous clothes?? Hello! Is there anyone around? Hello?!

Cordelia appeared out of the elevator, holding a tray with coffee and donuts on it. "Good morning....Angel." Her sudden burst of laughter startled Wesley. 'Angel??' His look of combined indignation and confusion only sent Cordelia into another fit of hysterics and she had to set down the tray, before she dropped it.

Wesley frowned. "Something tells me, this ISN'T going to be my day."