A vibrant, elegant dark poured itself out against the L.A. sky. It was a silent, calm night - the nights that he liked. The kind of night where you can just hear the faint footsteps echoing out in that near-by street. Where you manage to give that lonesome newspaper vendor a polite nod of acknowledgement. The kind of night where the tranquil, still light from the street-lamps served as a compliment to the over-riding sense of peace. Where beautiful, calm little rarities such as the undisturbed stillness of the empty streets could truly be appreciated. The kind of night where you could find one mysterious, tall, dark vampire with a soul peering out his office window in reflection.

"Quiet night", his voice spoke out towards his office window, his dark eyes not removing their focus from that which was before him.
"Ah - yes", Wesley responded, still - after all these years - a bit taken back at Angel's ability to notice someone's entrance into a room, even without the slightest bit of noise having been made. Not even he could be stealthy enough to sneak up on a vampire with a very distinct sense of smell.
Closing his eyes, as if to take in the sheer beauty of it all, Angel still did not turn for a good moment. He let the serenity of it all slip a few more seconds before turning his somewhat relaxed focus onto Wesley, "Something up? It's late - thinking you would have called it a day by now"
Wesley ran a hand along his unshaven face and shrugged, his own dark, matured eyes staring into Angel's. "Just decided to drop in and see how it's been…holding the bull by the horns, that is."
"Bull by the horns. You mean Wolfram & Hart…it's actually been less stressful and irritating than I would have imagined. Not to say that I don't sense the downfall coming a mile away but - hey - if the Senior Partners want to go on a rampage, I'm not letting go."
"Wouldn't expect any of us to, really", Wesley assured him, taking note that even Angel couldn't help but admit the eased flow of things ever since their deal with the Devil, so to speak.
"Been…looking at some things", Wesley spoke - shifting the subject elsewhere.
A smirk curled over Angel's lips and he slid into his chair in comfort, "You mean going around Wolfram & Hart's archives? Prophecies?"
Wesley nodded, "Well - yes. No point in having resources grander than the eye can take if we don't use them"
"Of course. So - do tell, what's stirring in the bowels of Wolfram & Hart?" Angel asked - his tone not coming off as dramatic or ominous as the words themselves were as he twirled a pencil in-between his index and middle finger.
"A library of Wolfram & Hart's deepest, darkest most well-kept secrets. Apparently, about a year ago they sacrificed a baby rabbit for some sort of demonic ritual. Looks like we let that one slip by…"
"Heh. Baby rabbit?" Angel asked after a moments pause.
"Yes", Wesley responded, slightly amused at the idea of it him self. "…And here we were stopping the end of mankind"
"That as dark as Wolfram & Hart's seedy past goes? Gotta' have more for me than that, Wes".
Wesley tilted his head slightly and opened his mouth to speak, "Nothing that needs to be known right now, just fascinating is all. After all, wouldn't want to ruin your good spirits by re-calling Wolfram & Hart's checked off list of sins."
Angel, a bit taken back that Wesley actually took note of his tranquil mood, slightly shifted his position. Giving him a solid look of thanks, of appreciation, he spoke, "Wouldn't say good spirits but…yeah. It's just a quiet night and there's part of me wondering - is this just a rarity or is it us?"
Wesley stayed silent, appreciating and following through with where Angel was going - he nodded. He realized then and there, in that brief moment of silence, that this had been a pretty elaborate conversation for the two of them. Considering what had past - considering the undeniable strain that had been flowing - the rather calm conversation itself was somewhat of a rarity.
"Are these quiet nights just some "once-in-a-blue-moon" occurance or…? Or are we changing things, Wes? I mean, with the firm and everything we're doing. We've saved a lot of people lately. So just thinking that we might be making things more peaceful, you know? Thoughts like that - they make me feel…all right."
Wesley nodded once more to Angel before speaking again, "Hope, you mean? For the ever changing future. Is that what you sense?"
Getting up from his chair, Angel eyed the tranquil night once more and after a calm, reflective moment's peace - where neither Angel nor Wesley spoke a word - he answered, "Something like that"

The darkness just dimming down as morning came up, that peace and tranquility seemed to be maintaining its grace. All continued to be well as - -

- - Swoosh - - A sudden violent, swift noise echoed out through the sky. Followed by a deafening snap, bringing uneasiness to the elegant rising morning. A flash of un-natural lightning struck the sky - no, not a flash, but a continual stream of flowing electricity. First one, then two, shooting out from the thick of the orange, dim sky. Four now, each shooting out side by side, racing towards a destination. All perfectly in-synch, their rapid electric power and violence emitting from their very being, the bolts of lightning shot themselves towards…something. Somewhere.

Wolfram & Hart's office tower stood looming and majestic, as if the building walls showed no care or worry to nature's oncoming rampage - for the moment. Soon enough the raging, continual streams of electricity expanded violently and rushed themselves directly into a single window of the building. Without warning, at least a dozen streams of this un-naturally un-tamed electricity slammed itself directly into a single window, as if following a pre-determined course of action. Necro-tempered glass shattered left and right as blast after blast of continual, thriving electricity forced its way into the gaping hole where a nice office window used to be.

* * *
- -- Snnap! - - Loud, ear-piercing noise and disturbance rocked the ears of every last employee within the Wolfram & Hart walls. Something large had just charged its way into something on one of the upper-floors…something extremely powerful. Everyone had felt and was still feeling the shake of it all, regardless of the fact that the uproar of booming violence had started only seconds earlier.
"It's your office we should be looking into. Whatever's making with the big boom isn't spreading from there, its just sort of staying put. Rest of the building seems to be okay.", Fred assured Angel as she rapidly typed away at a computer in the Main Lobby.
Wesley's eyes began to fill with slight intensity as he brought in a deep breath. Gunn, sword in hand, looked up towards the second-floor railing and nodded to Fred. "Whatever the Hell is making that much noise is going to need…" he began before Wesley cut him off, following his gaze towards the second floor.
"- - A serious ass-kicking? I'd assume so", he spoke, loading the handgun that he gripped tightly in his right palm.
The loud, violently, booming noise and quake hadn't ceased since it began approximately a good five minutes earlier. Lorne, who was over-looking Fred's shoulders as she scanned for the right security-camera visuals, let out a sigh and shrugged, "Hey - can't have sunshine and dandelions everyday, folks. You guys do remember that bad stuff usually happens in this world? I mean, multi-million dollar law firm aside…"
Angel, speaking up for the first time, nodded to Lorne - his expression grim, "Right". Annoyed that some force loud as an earthquake was making itself at home in his office, he gripped the sword in his right hand tightly.
"…How could I forget", he added - almost cursing the fact that he eased himself into slight tranquility the past few days, nearly setting him self up for a fall.
"Fred", he called to her, shooting his dark eyes towards her direction, "Call a Code Red. Make sure all the employees are safe and sound - can't be sure about who's throwing the party up there but it doesn't good"
"On it", Fred responded - continuing to rapidly slam her fingers into the keyboard as fast as she could.

There they were - Team Angel, sans Lorne and Fred - striding up towards Angel's office. The Code Red alarm had just gone off and rushing employees scattered left and right, desperately trying to make their way to a place of security. The sound of explosions evoked the very hallways themselves to rock with uneasiness as they proceeded onward.
The thrill of it all rising, the anticipation, the drive - suddenly it all stopped. No more noise, no more rocking, no more disturbance whatsoever. Just as they skidded to a stop at the double-doors of Angel's office, looks of confusion playing over Gunn and Wesley's face - all the noise just seemed to come to an abrupt halt. Angel, however, remained grim and irritated as ever - opening the doors wide without the tiniest bit of hesitation.

Shards of glass still skidded across the room, pushed by the force of wind itself. Some of the window still remained in an un-attractive, cracked and broken manner - but much of what was left of his view was a gaping hole into the sky. His desk was in pieces…two, three…maybe four. Flames had become to engulf the room with rapid speed, spreading up against the far walls. The luxuries of his office were all brought down to a complete and utter mess - but that wasn't what was on Angel's mind.

Wasn't what was on Gunn or Wesley's mind either. Not even Lorne and Fred, who had hurried to meet up with the trio, curious as to why the violent noise and uproar had suddenly ceased. "Hey, that was fast. What happ - -", Lorne began before following their gaze into the office. His eyes were filled with elements of confusion and surprise mixed into one, his sentence stopping short.
Wesley relaxed his grip on his handgun and ran a hand along his face; intensely eyeing what was inside the room. Fred's eyes - filled with curiosity and anticipation - peeked over Gunn's shoulder, as they both stared onward. Angel - whose seemingly permanent grim facial expression actually gave in to a tiny bit of inquisitiveness - took a cautious step forward.

In the middle of the office, among the mess and disorder, was a crouching, naked, scorched and quivering man. Wesley looked to the others as Angel continued to approach this crouched figure, matching his puzzled expression with theirs. The calm rush of the wind and the soft crackling of fire made it's way into the ears of all within the office, serving as one of the few sounds present. That and soft, deep, panting - coming from this quivering, mysterious man who still sat crouched and trembling.

Just as Angel reached out a hand to grasp the shoulder of this unknown figure - to figure out exactly who he was and why he was there, he moved. He stood up, rose to his feet and turned to Angel and the others. Clearly naked all except for a worn, scorched amulet that hung from his neck - which was nearly embedded right into his skin. It was actually as if it had been burned right into his chest - making him, and the amulet look like they'd both come back from the depths of Hell. While loosening his neck he patted his leg, instinctively looking for a cigarette. When his scorched hand hit skin, he looked down at himself in astonishment. His dark, emotionally drained eyes stared up to the others and he swallowed hard.

A long awkward pause filled the room, looks of bewilderment still plastered on everyone's face except Angel's. His expression was that of thriving tension put alongside undeniable surprise. His mouth opened and he readied himself to say something but no - instead he closed it and looked at this figure directly in the eyes.

Sliding his hands over his personal area, he shrugged as he gave the ruined office a quick look. "Well then", he spoke - his voice carrying certain clarity, which seemed odd given his rather rugged state, "This the big welcome home party? Now - I don't see a cake. Now what's a party without a bloody cake, people?"
A pause as he gave another glance to the extreme disorder that had over taken the office before looking up and pointing towards Angel, "What about the noise-makers? Or some pointed hats. Hey, now you'd look fancy in one of those!"

An awkward moment of uneasiness passed as the wind eased its way into the disaster that was Angel's office. The others stared on, each trying to make sense of the situation on their own. Angel closed his eyes in silent strain before opening them and acknowledging the figure with a name: "Spike"

- TO BE CONTINUED -