"Nineenine bodduls of beer onna wall…"
Bump.
"Nineenine bodduls of beeeer…"
Bump.
"Take a down an passit roun…"
Bump.
"Nineenine bodduls of beer onna wall."
Bump.
Angel didn't know it, but he'd been on the bottom of
the ocean for three months. He looked like hell. He
couldn't see his reflection in the glass; he could
only feel it when he slammed his head into it. Well,
it had started out as whamming. Now it was just sad,
tired bumping. It was something to do, though. When he sang, 
his voice was a squawk. He began again, using the same tune.
"Connor, Im gonna kick yer ass…"
Bump.
"Im gonna kick yer ass…"
Bump.
"But firss Im gonna get somthin to eat…"
Bump.
"Nineenine bodduls of beer onna wall."
Bump.
Angel leaned back and tried to stretch the chains
again. His limbs could barely move, but they were
looser, largely because Angel was skinnier. Much, much
skinner.
"Ohhh, nineenine bodduls of beer onna wall…"
Bump.
"Cordys gonna be really pissed…"
Bump.
"Cause Is sposed to meet her and talk an stuff…"
Bump.
"Nineneenine bodduls of beer onna wall."
When the light appeared outside, he hissed in pain.
During the day, there was a faint luminescence that
made its way down to him, not enough to burn…just
enough to show him the empty ocean floor before him.
Sometimes, at night, he saw glowing fish. But this was
different. This was proper light. And it was getting brighter.
He tried to focus. Something was moving out there. There was a 
loud hissing noise…
Then the trickling began. Angel gaped as the coffin began to 
fill with water. A moment later, the door was torn off, the 
hinges still glowing with heat. Outside, Angel could see a 
scuba diver holding an acetylene torch. He swam towards Angel and 
got to work on the chains.
Angel tried to speak and failed. It didn't matter, though. The 
water felt so good, so sweet and cool after three months in a 
steel box where the air had expired long ago.
The chains came loose from his legs, then his arms. Angel tried to 
swim, but it quickly became apparent that it wasn't going to happen. 
His rescuer put an arm around him and they swam up into the light of 
the full moon.



"Here," said the voice. "Drink this."
A hot mug was pressed into his hands. Angel inhaled the blood, 
desperately eager for sustenance. His game face appeared unbidden. 
"More."
"Of course." That voice sounded familiar. Another mug. Angel made it 
disappear. Another mug, and Angel took a mouthful and let it play over 
his tongue. Ohhhh. The very finest chimpanzee, it tasted close enough 
to human to make him feel guilty.
"Thank you," Angel said when he'd finished the third mug.
"Quite all right." The figure stepped into the light, and Angel recognized 
Wesley Wyndham-Price. He was still dressed in the scuba outfit, except for 
the mask, tanks and flippers.
Angel tried to squint. He remembered being very, very angry at Wesley. 
Then he tasted the blood and decided Wesley wasn't such a bad fellow 
after all.
"Howja find me?" Angel asked.
"It's a long story," Wesley said.
"Start."
"Rest first," Wesley said.
"Where's Cordy?" Angel demanded.
"Cordy's all right. She's safe."
"Where?"
"Later. When you've rested."
Angel put the mug down and tried to get up. His legs reminded him that 
they were a pair of withered husks that had no interest in such things. 
Angel fell back on the bunk.
"Connor."
"Connor's fine, too."
"Did this."
"We know. Trust me, Angel. Everything's fine."
Angel's eyes closed, quite by themselves. Before he knew it, he was 
dreamlessly sleeping.



When he opened his eyes, he was in the dark. For a horrible panicked instant, 
he thought he was back underwater, back in that horrible box…but then he heard 
the street humming underneath him and realized that he was in the trunk of a car. 
His eyes focused-they were doing that again now-and a quick scan of the contents 
told him that it was his car.
There was an IV bag full of blood next to him. He bit it open eagerly and 
drank it down, but he still felt hungry. Starving, in fact. He began to 
wonder what was happening here. Maybe this wasn't a rescue. Maybe Wesley 
wanted revenge…and now that he was thinking clearly again, Angel would be 
hard-pressed to blame him.
No, that was ridiculous. Rescue him from a watery…well, not a grave, but a 
non-existence, certainly-to kill him on land? It made no sense.
The car went into a dip. Ba-bump, ba-bump. Speed bumps. A garage? A moment 
later, the car stopped and the trunk came open.
Wesley stood there, his eyes tired, his face unshaven, a turtleneck starting 
below his chin.
"There's something you have to understand before we go upstairs." Angel looked 
around; it was the Hyperion's garage. Not underground, but out of the sun, 
anyway. "Cordelia is safe, Angel. Perfectly, completely safe. But she's not here."
"What? Why not? Where is she?"
"She's…ascended."
Angel blinked.
"Ascended."
"Basically, she's been drafted by The Powers That Be. When Skip made her 
half-demon, he mentioned a price to be paid. Angel, this was the price…giving 
up her earthly life for a pursuit of true justice."
"Cordy's gone," Angel said.
"She's in contact with us…she appears when she has a vision. But yes, Angel, 
for all intents and purposes, Cordelia is gone."
Angel walked sluggishly as Wesley led him to the elevator.
"What about Gunn? And Fred?"
"They're fine. When you and Cordy disappeared, they came to me to help find 
you. And…well, this would be best told with everyone in the room."
The elevator doors shut. Wesley hit L. They were quiet for a moment.
"Connor?" Angel finally asked.
"You'll see."
"Wesley, don't play games."
Wesley gave him a mild glare. "Considering that I rescued you from that box, 
Angel, and considering what you did to me the last time we met, you might 
show a little more gratitude and a little less impatience."
"…Sorry."
"Bloody well hope so."
The elevator stopped again. The doors opened.
"Fine. We're upstairs. Now will you please tell me, where's…"
"Lorne! Can we get a bottle over here?"
Angel stared. Fred was standing in the middle of the lobby, holding…something…
in her arms. No. It isn't. It can't.
"Comin' right up, snookums." Lorne appeared from the office, a fresh bottle of 
milk in his hands. "Here we go. That oughtta keep the little anklebiter quiet 
for a while."
"Stop that," Fred said. "He's adorable. Yes he is! Yes he is!"
"Well, there's one way he doesn't take after the old…man…" Lorne saw Angel and 
Wesley walking toward them. "My God, Angel…"
Fred turned around. Angel barely noticed she was there. His attention was 
riveted on the child Fred held in her arms.
"Is…that isn't…"
"Angel…" Wesley gently took the child from Fred and gave him to Angel. 
"This is Connor."
Angel looked at him. He held the child to his heart, breathed him in. 
Oh God, that smell… Before he knew what was happening, he was weeping. 
He kissed Connor on the forehead.
"How?" he finally asked.
"Well…like I said, it's a long story."
"We went back in time and grabbed him!" Fred blurted out.
Wesley glared at her. "My mistake. Apparently it's a very short story."
"You went back in…how?"
"After I was attacked by Holtz and Justine, and we…dissolved our 
partnership, I decided to try and find a way to right things. I studied 
several ancient texts to try and find a way back into the hell dimension 
where Holtz took Connor. Finally, I found a way."
"How?"
"Through Connor."



"What?"
"Essentially," Wesley said, pacing back and forth, "Connor was a living 
portal into that dimension. The years he spent there, almost from his birth, 
irrevocably changed him. He first got here through force of will, not by any 
external means. If one could find a spell to…well, open him…one could reenter 
that dimension at any point in time or space one wished." Wesley bowed his 
head. "There was, however, a risk."
"A risk."
"You've gotta understand, Angel," Fred said. "After you and Cordy disappeared, 
Connor came after the rest of us. Said he wanted to destroy and trace of his 
'demon father.' He even went to Sunnydale and messed around with Buffy and her 
friends for a while."
"He nearly killed Spike and fractured one of Xander's legs," Wesley added.
Angel tried not to smirk. It wouldn't do to take fatherly pride in that.
"The risk was that in using Connor as the portal, it might destroy him. Use up 
his life-force." Lorne scratched his head. "We almost didn't do it."
"But thank God we did," Fred said, reaching out and touching Connor's 
wispy hair.
"Thank God," Angel murmured. "What happened to the other Connor?"
"He's back in the hell dimension with Justine. He made the usual vow of 
vengeance," Wesley said. "But I don't think we'll be seeing him again. 
After all, he still thinks you're at the bottom of the ocean."
"But how did you find me?"
The room filled with light. Connor squalled for a moment, but quieted as the 
light faded and took shape.
Cordelia hovered above them, still clad in the white dress she'd worn when 
she'd ascended. She slowly sank into the half-circle they'd unconsciously 
formed.
"Hello, Angel," she said.



"Cordy…Cordy, you're beautiful," Angel stammered.
Cordelia smiled shyly and bent towards Connor.
"Hi, Connor! Hi! It's Aunt Cordy!" She took a deep sniff of the child. "Ahhh. 
You know, they've got a lot of interesting stuff up there, but they don't 
have any baby smell…"
"Cordy, what happened?" Angel asked.
Cordelia sighed and looked at him.
"I had to make a choice," Cordelia said. "You know? I mean, either I could 
give up…this, all of you, the fight…or I could give up us." She touched his 
cheek. "And there wasn't really an us, Angel."
"There could have been."
"There could have been," Cordelia agreed. "But…I don't think so, somehow." 
She gently took Connor from his arms and handed him to Wesley. "Could you? 
Just for a second?"
"Of course," Wesley said, taking Connor. "But wh-oh." He said this because 
Cordy had her arms wrapped around Angel and was kissing him furiously. 
The others tried not to watch, but when it became apparent this was going to 
go on for a while, they gave up. Finally, Cordy broke away.
"So that's what that would have been like!" she said.
"Muh," Angel replied.
"Well," Cordelia said, hugging him. "I'm glad you're back."
"Thanks," Angel said, looking into her eyes. She held his gaze for a moment 
before stepping back. With a flash of light, she was gone.
"Are you all right?" Wesley asked, handing Connor back to him.
"Yeah," Angel said after a moment. "I am. I've got my son back…and I'm not in 
Davy Jones' locker anymore…" He looked at the spot where Cordelia had been 
standing. "Things are almost perfect…"
The outer door opened, and Gunn walked in. "Hey! Y'all right?" he asked Angel.
"I'm okay."
"Cool." He cast a look over his shoulder. "Because I found someone on patrol 
who wants to talk to you."
Angel looked, then started in shock as Buffy Summers walked through the door.



"Buffy?! Uh…hi…" His head was swimming at this point.
"Angel! You won't believe it, you really won't!" Buffy walked up to him and 
took his arm. "Something incredible's happened!"
"It has?"
"We found somebody…this demon, he's in Africa, and he can get rid of the curse! 
He can bring you back to life, with all of your strength! Spike went to him to 
get his soul back, but…I mean, it solves all of your problems, Angel!"
"Yeah," Angel said. He took a step back from her and looked down at Connor.
"Angel, aren't you excited? Don't you want to come with me?"
Angel closed his eyes.
"Stop it," he said.
"What? What do you mean?" Buffy came closer to him. "I'm Buffy, Angel, remember? 
I'm your one true love."
"Just stop it."
"We can be together, you and I. Always together. Forever."
"STOP IT!" Angel roared. He looked around; the others were frozen into place. 
Only Buffy was moving, smirking, sneering at him. "I know what you are. Take 
her face off. NOW!"
Buffy shrugged. "If you like." Her form waved like heat rising off the road. 
When she coalesced, she looked as she had the last time Angel had seen him. 
She looked like Jenny Calendar.



"Is this better?" The First Evil cooed.
Angel looked at the unmoving form in his arms.
"None of this is real," he said.
"It can be," the First said.
"Lies."
"Me? Lie to you? I've only ever told you the truth, Angelus." The First grinned. 
"I told you you would bring Buffy nothing but pain. Did I lie? I told you I 
freed you from Hell to bring destruction and chaos. Did I lie? And did you 
disappoint me?"
"You've left me alone since that Christmas eve…"
"You were doing so well on your own," the First said. "That bit with the 
lawyers in the wine cellar? I liked that. And smothering poor, dear Wesley? 
I couldn't come up with that on my own."
"What do you want?"
"I want you. To work for me." The First Evil spread her arms wide. "After all, 
you've had a few months to think about it, yes? What it would be like to break 
free of that box?" She stepped closer to him. "I can make it happen, Angelus. 
I can give you your Slayer back…and let's face it, Cordelia's just a substitute 
for the real thing, isn't she?"
"You sick, twisted-"
"I can even give you your son back," the First continued. "Would you like that? 
A sweet baby instead of a sullen teen?"
"You leave my son ALONE!"
The First shook her head.
"Pathetic. It really is. The little freak locked you up in here-oh, wait." 
She snapped her fingers-



--and Angel was back in the box. He gasped at the sudden change from rested and 
fed to the wreck he'd been before.
Outside, the First peered through the glass at him.
"-in here, and you still defend him. So sad."
"Lemme 'lone," Angel moaned.
"You're sure?"
"You won' breakme."
"I already did, Angelus. Remember? 'Am I a righteous man? Am I a thing worth 
saving? Boo hoo, poor me!'"
"Kill you," Angel tried to growl.
"Last chance, Angelus…vampires can starve for a long, long time…"
"Get bent."
The First shrugged. "Don't say I never tried to do you a favor." She grinned. 
"But when your bones star to show through your skin…remember me, won't you?"
The First turned and walked away along the ocean floor, whistling a happy tune 
as she went.
Angel waited until she was out of sight to lose consciousness.



"Nineenine bodduls of beer onna wall…"
Bump.
Three months and one day now.
"Nineenine bodduls of beeeer…"
Bump.
Something happened to him yesterday. He couldn't remember it now, though.
Just something about a girl...and a baby. It was hard to hold on to things
when you were trapped like this.
"Take a down an passit roun…"
Bump.
Just as well, really.
"Nineenine bodduls of beer onna wall."
Bump.

All of this is copyright Joss Whedon, except the stuff that isn't.