Author's Note:Italics signify thought, emphasis or vision. One row of Xs means change of POV, two mean change of scene, and three signify the beginning of a chapter (or end when there is a final note).

I have more of an idea of what the timeline is now, so there should not be that long a gap between postings again. But, as Real Life has taught me (especially lately), never say never. I do intend to someday finish this story, however, because there are several sequels planned that I'd like to actually write. ;)

Magic Box
Sunnydale, CA
Tuesday, July 24, 2001
afternoon

Mara was halfway through the Italian spell book before things slowed down in the store enough for her to ask Giles for a Los Angeles phone book. She knew from Willow and Giles' memories that Los Angeles was the closest big city; that it was in fact one of the largest cities on the western coast of the United States. Flipping to the "D" section of the business pages, Mara trailed a fingernail down the page looking for her father's name.

Dagan had, of course, left this earth millennia ago, but centuries after his death when his descendants had begun to move apart and further away from their original home, those of his children who were still alive, Immortal, decided to keep track of the family as much as possible, and so the Dagan Group began. A few centuries ago, when businesses became more prominent in society, the name was changed to The Dagan Corporation, with many business ventures under its control, including banks where the family funds and individual accounts could be protected from snooping officials and record keepers who allowed the Immortal members of the family to change identities when necessary to avoid detection. The service was also available to mortal family members who might need it for various reasons.

The last time Mara had been actively involved in the world, she knew there had been a branch office of the Corporation in at least one major city in every country in the world, though some of them were no more than a single room with one person who could connect inquirers with a larger branch. It stood to reason that with the advances made since that time that the company would be even more widespread now, which is why she was starting her search with Los Angeles. If that failed, she could try New York next. Luckily, there was indeed a listing for The Dagan Corporation in the book.

Mara dialed the phone in the back room, needing to keep her conversation as private as possible. Her call was answered on the second ring by a friendly male voice.

"The Dagan Corporation, how may I direct your call?"

"This is Mara Dagan, I need to speak with whoever is in charge of my account."

"Let me put you on hold just a moment, Miss Dagan," the voice responded, a touch of excitement now in his tone. "I'll connect you with Mrs. Selton, our branch president."

"Thank you."

Mara waited for a few moments, listening to lively flute music, before the phone was again answered by a friendly tone, this one female and a bit more firm.

"Miss Dagan, this is Mrs. Selton. I will need to verify your identity before I can give you any information."

"Of course," Mara answered immediately, having known this was coming.

It would take more than just questions to completely verify her identity and give her access to her fortune, especially after so long spent in the Realms. But in order to even find out where she would have to go for the final verification, she'd have to pass the preliminary screening. For nearly half an hour she was asked question after question about her own personal history, including where she was born and when, as well as questions about her family and historical events she had been present during.

"Alright, Lady Mara," Mrs. Selton said when Mara had answered all her questions correctly. "Unfortunately the Verifications Department of the western hemisphere is in New York City, but I can send you temporary identification and some money to tide you over until you can travel there. I take it from your current location that it may be some time until you can do so?"

"It might be. I take it from your form of address that at least one of my titles is still active?"

"Yes. Since you became the Guardian this last time, the Records Department has set up a system where you are the current holder of each title in succession, with older members of the family taking over the former title when 'you' reach an age you wouldn't be able to convincingly pull off were you to come back. The current title is that of Lady Raven."

"I see." Mara continued, "Well, if you could send those things to me here as well as the contact information for the New York branch, I'd really appreciate it."

"Of course, Lady Mara," Mrs. Selton responded. After getting the Magic Box's address from Mara, she said, "It has been an honor being able to assist you, Lady Mara. It is so rare to hear from one of the children of Dagan and Malia."

"Thank you for your help, I'll be sure to tell the New York branch how well you're doing your job."

They said their good-byes, Mrs. Selton promising the delivery of Mara's package the next day, and Mara hung up the phone. She spent the rest of the day getting to know Anya better… learning more of Anya's time as a human than she'd really cared to because of the former demon's tendency to talk both quickly and a lot… and going through the knowledge she'd gained from Giles and Willow the day before to better acclimate herself to the current time period. Things in the Realms remained pretty much the same since the time they had been created, and a lot had happened in the world during the two hundred years she'd been gone. It was quite an adjustment.

That night she returned with Willow to the apartment the young woman shared with her boyfriend. Oz would not be back until the next day, his band performing that night and staying in a hotel before returning. Willow was tired from a long day at work, so she made an early night of it. Mara was not yet ready to sleep and went outside for a while to exercise in the small park across the street from the apartment building. Amazingly, considering everything she knew about the town situated on a hellmouth, she was not interrupted by any of the less savory citizens of the night.

When she was pleasantly worn down, Mara went back inside and once more made her bed on the couch. That night she once more dreamt of the vampire with a soul, getting to know more about Angel's formative years, proving beyond a doubt that what she was seeing was more information than could possibly have been gleaned from the life flash she had shared with Willow and Giles. Something strange was going on… and Mara was forced to admit to herself that she had no wish to stop it.

Former Hyperion Hotel
Los Angeles, CA
Wednesday, July 25, 2001
very early morning, hours before sunrise

"Is it dead?" Cordelia asked as soon as Angel, Wesley and Faith walked into the lobby.

The three had just gotten back. Gunn had already left for the day several hours before and Fred, Angel was sure, was up in room she had adopted as her new "cave" since returning with them from Pylea. Lorne was sitting beside Cordy on the round couch that resided in the middle of the lobby floor, probably there so that he was in easy reach in case the headache she had gotten from her earlier vision got worse. That very vision was what Cordy was referring to, having seen the rising of a new vampire who, if they didn't get there in time, would kill his young, pregnant widow.

"Dusted," Faith answered Cordy's question simply.

"We were able to get there before he could feed on the woman," Angel expanded when Cordy looked dissatisfied with Faith's reply.

"Yes, well," Wesley spoke when a full minute of silence followed Angel's words. "I don't know about anyone else, but I'm exhausted. We had a long day, and this last minute mission didn't help matters. Angel, unless you need me for anything else, I'll be headed home."

"Night, Wes," Angel said in response.

"I'll help Cordy get to bed."

"Thanks, Lorne," Angel replied.

The red-horned green demon wrapped a supportive arm around the brunette before they walked at a moderate pace to and up the main staircase.

"Did I ever thank you?" Faith asked Angel when they were alone.

He turned to stare at her with his eyebrows raised. "For what?"

"For giving me a chance," she answered quietly. "For even bothering to come and get me at the prison when I got out two months ago."

XxX Flashback XxX

"Faith," the guard greeted when he stepped into view through the door of her cell.

"George," she responded in the same tone.

Faith had been a model prisoner, keeping to herself whenever possible and never giving the guards a hard time. And because of her various run-ins with other inmates trying to "put her in her place," they all knew she was more than capable of doing them serious physical harm. George was one of the guards who'd struck up a sort of friendship with her, appreciating her dry wit and sarcastic, street-wise intelligence, and the fact that if you looked out for her, Faith looked out for you.

George himself had been spared what he was sure would have been at the very least a nasty shank wound when Faith had yelled a warning two days after he had slipped her a newspaper she'd asked for. Faith had been jumped by a group of the would-be attacker's friends a few days later, but she'd held her own against them, George eventually pulling her away in protection of her attackers' lives as opposed to any danger to Faith.

George took a glance around her solitary cell, noting the bare walls and cleared shelf surface before asking, "Got everything?"

Faith slightly hoisted the cardboard box in her hands in answer. There wasn't much in it, just a few odd little things she'd found out in the yard… an unusual rock, an old bird's nest… along with magazine and news articles she'd kept taped to her walls and a few origami cranes and frogs she'd learned to make with a book from the prison library. But despite the meagerness of her possessions, they were hers and she was loathe to part with them.

With a nod, George stepped to one side to let Faith precede him out of the cell. Mitch, George's more stoic partner, led the three-person procession out of the solitary cell hallway, past the general population block, and to the Administrator's office.

The woman behind the counter opened the large manila envelope with her name– simply "Faith" – and prisoner number on it and read off the list of items she'd had in her possession when she was brought to the prison. Wallet, chapstick, twenty three dollars and seventy four cents in cash, and a butane lighter. Faith was already wearing the clothes she'd had on that eventful day what felt like a lifetime ago. She'd tossed her stake, knives and other weapons before turning herself in; they'd have to be replaced once she was on the outside again. After signing the necessary release form and distributing the items into her pockets, Faith picked up the box she had set down and followed Mitch toward the prison's exit.

"Good luck, Faith," George told her when they reached the point that she would continue on her own. "Don't do anything that'll get you back in here."

Faith smiled sardonically at him. "Watch your back, George. I won't be here to do it for you."

George laughed, then asked, "You gonna tell me how it is you're getting out at all?"

The whole prison had been abuzz when the word had gotten out that the President himself had pardoned her. Faith was sure there were many rumors out there on why he would have done so, none of them anywhere near the truth. Of course, only she, the President and one other person knew the truth, and Faith wasn't sure just how much the President actually knew and how much of it was just a favor for that other person.

What none of them knew was that she'd actually been out on a little "field trip" for what, to her perspective at least, had been the last six months. But when her guide had sent her back to her cell, Faith had been relieved to find that less than a minute had passed in the middle of the night. Lord only knew how she would have explained it if anyone had noticed her absence or what trouble it would have caused.

She studied George for a moment before answering cryptically, "It never hurts to have friends in high places."

"Someone picking you up?" Mitch finally added to the conversation. "This is a lot later than the usual release time. A bus won't be coming out here until tomorrow morning."

Faith glanced at the dark sky above them, the sun having set half an hour before, and frowned thoughtfully.

She shrugged, "Well, if anyone was coming, now would be the time."

The two guards looked somewhat confused, but waved her off when she said goodbye. Faith walked to the last gate alone, the man stationed there letting her through without comment. Her heart sank momentarily when she didn't see anyone waiting, but then the tail end of a black car caught her eye on the other side of the bus stop. Walking slowly, her heart in her throat, Faith felt relief wash over her the further she moved, seeing more of the car and recognizing it.

The only person… and she used the term loosely… to come visit her (at least the old fashioned way) during her incarceration was leaning against the trunk of the vehicle. When he saw her, he gave her a tight smile before turning around to unlock the trunk. When Faith reached his side and set the box inside the trunk, she turned and gave him a real smile.

"Hey, Boss."

XxX End Flashback XxX

"Faith," Angel responded gently. "I told you when you first came to me before you went to jail that I would help you in any way I could. You don't have to…"

"Yes, Angel, I do." Angel was somewhat startled by Faith's passionate rebuttal, and he fell silent, letting her finish. "After everything I did, everyone I hurt, you're still willing to give me more than nearly anyone else ever has. So, thank you, Angel. Thank you from the bottom of my heart."

"You're welcome," he responded, not knowing what else to say.

He watched, a bit surprised, as Faith's eyes grew misty. The usually tougher than nails Slayer turned away for a full minute before facing him again, her usual blasé face in place.

"Can I ask what brought that up?" Angel asked quietly.

Faith hesitated visibly for only a second. "When that girl thanked me tonight for saving her life and her baby's… it reminded me that I hadn't thanked you yet. But I had to wait til the others were nowhere nearby. They tend to doubt and overanalyze everything that comes out of my mouth." Faith was quick to add, "Not that I blame them in any way."

"They'll come around," he assured her, knowing in his non-beating heart that Faith was honest and serious about her turn around this time from watching her carefully the past two months.

With a weak, disbelieving smile, Faith turned away and whispered good night before heading for the room she had claimed as her own.

Angel sighed and headed to his office to write down the details of the night's kills, three vampires, one of them newly risen. After recording the two names they'd heard the vamps call each other as well as physical descriptions of all three, Angel leaned back in his chair, staring unseeingly at the wall safe where the Scroll of Aberjian was securely held. His thoughts drifted once more to the Slayer in residence.

When Faith had turned herself in for killing the now-deceased mayor of Sunnydale's secretary (and the assaults committed in Los Angeles) and gone to jail, Angel had thought he would only ever see her again with a sheet of bulletproof glass between them. So it had been a surprise when he'd found a visitor with some unexpected news waiting for him when he and the gang had returned from Pylea.

XxX Flashback XxX

"It's good to be home," Angel announced as he walked into the lobby of the former Hyperion Hotel.

He stopped short at the sight of a figure standing in the middle of the space, the others falling in around him to stare at the woman. Her face was beautiful in a classic way, exuding the feeling of coming from a different era. But she was also clearly not completely human, her long hair snow white in color while her eyes were bottomless black pools that contrasted sharply with her hair and pale skin. The power that emanated from her made his demon cower in fear, and Angel had the sudden feeling that this wasn't an average 'I need your help' visitor.

"Hello, Angel," she greeted as if she knew him. "May we speak in your office? In private, please."

Angel glanced at his friends-slash-employees. Fred, hiding behind Wesley, was peering curiously at the strange woman. Wesley, seeing the request in Angel's eyes, spoke gently to the skittish girl they'd rescued from the demon dimension, leading her around the outer edge of the room to the stairs, from there leading her to a room they would let her have as long as she needed one.

Cordelia sighed and fingered one of the lengths of fabric making up her skirt. "As fun as it was being a Princess until the whole killing me thing, I think I'm going to go change before I get mistaken for a prostitute again."

The headstrong seer had not been amused when a man had approached her outside of what was left of Lorne's club, believing her to be a themed escort. Angel foresaw plenty of teasing from Wes and Gunn for months to come about that.

Gunn cleared his throat, "I'm gonna head to my crib. Make sure I didn't get any squatters while I was gone. I'll be back in the morning."

"Alright," Angel acknowledged.

That just left he and Lorne and the woman who had yet to move from her spot in the middle of the floor. Lorne was staring intently at the woman while she gazed impassively back at the green demon with red horns.

"I don't know whether or not to ask you to sing for me," he finally commented, his voice a little breathy.

"It's probably better that you don't." A slight smile curved her lips, and she added, "I have a horrible singing voice."

Lorne laughed lightly in appreciation of the joke before turning to find a room among those in the hotel to call his own now that his club, his place of employment as well as where he had lived, had been destroyed by the return trip from Pylea.

Their visitor turned her dark eyes expectantly on Angel.

"This way," he motioned toward his office door. "Miss…?"

"It's just Eve," she answered, sweeping through the door and into one of the chairs set before his desk.

"So, Eve," Angel asked when he had seated himself, "how can Angel Investigations be of service to you?"

"It can't," she answered, continuing before he could ask why she was here then. "I'm here to ask a favor of you personally."

He settled back in his chair and studied her. "Do we know each other? Because you seem to be familiar with me even though I'm fairly sure I've never seen you before."

"That's complicated, and not important right now. I'd like to talk to you about you letting Faith join your group."

That got his attention. He leaned forward.

"If we're talking about the same Faith, she's in prison. And the cops know I'm a friend of hers. Here is the first place they'd look for her. As much as I want to help Faith, hiding her as a fugitive wouldn't cut it."

Eve shook her head. "No one from the police force will come looking for her. She's received a Presidential Pardon. She'll be released from jail, legally, tomorrow evening."

Angel's mouth hung open for a minute. "How did she get a Presidential anything, let alone a full pardon?"

"I arranged it," Eve answered calmly. "Faith is the Slayer, the world needs her. But more importantly, there are people who will need her soon. Now, will you pick her up and let her stay?"

Filing away her use of the word 'the' instead of 'a', Angel nodded.

"Of course." He sighed unnecessarily, scrubbing a hand tiredly over his face. "I just hope she's found a little balance in jail. We don't want a repeat of what happened right before she went in."

"No need to worry about that," Eve informed him. "Jail did help Faith to calm down a bit by providing an odd but needed stability, but for the last six months she's been traveling with me, doing what she is meant to, what she was born to do. It's allowed her to start healing."

Once more Angel was slack-jawed, this time in complete disbelief. "That's impossible," he said when he found his voice. "I just saw her three weeks ago at the prison, and she's only been in jail for a few months."

Eve smiled tightly. "Have you ever met a Time Jumper before, Angel?"

That explained things. Time Jumpers could, as their name implied, jump through time, some by choice, others by some higher design. If Eve was a Time Jumper, she could easily have retrieved Faith from jail and traveled with her six months (or more) and returned her to the timeline with no one the wiser. It could also potentially explain how she knew him; they could very well meet again sometime in his future and yet to her it could already have happened.

Feeling much calmer about the whole situation, Angel nodded. "I'll take her in. I did promise to help her. I meant it."

XxX End Flashback XxX

Eve had disappeared after giving him the information on when to pick Faith up from the prison. In the two months since he'd retrieved her, Faith had proven to him through her actions that she was indeed healing from everything she'd been through. She'd even tried making amends with Cordelia and Wes, who, if not quite ready to forgive her for what she'd previously done, at least treated her less like a leper now than they did when he'd first brought her to the hotel.

Angel had always felt connected to the Dark Slayer because both of them, in their own ways, had dark pasts that they were never allowed to forget. But now he was getting closer to her as a friend, an equal. He almost looked at her as a sister figure, or, God forbid, a Childe. Shaking aside the terrible vision of Faith as a vampire, Angel acknowledged to himself that from the way she had begun confiding in him when the others weren't around, he thought Faith reciprocated.

And although she'd helped many people in her duties as a Slayer, he was still waiting for what Eve had meant by her words to become clearer. Aside from him, who was Faith so important to?