Countdown in LA; Motocross in Sunnydale

Disclaimers in the first chapter.
Additional disclaimers':
Moana from Disney. General stuff only – no spoiler stuff. Script from BtVS episode "Hells Bells".

***Somewhere in an apartment in January 14th, 2001, LA, day***

She is sitting by the mirror, trying to make her wildly curly and thick hair behave, and watching her reflection – sighing she stands up, her battle with her hair lost, again. She has work tomorrow at 'Find your Future,' a psychic's hotline.

Though lately she has been feeling homesick. She supposes it is time to see Lorne. Though he lives in Hyperion Hotel now, at least while Caritas was being rebuilt from scratch after that explosion last year.

She is getting not so vague signals, waves of signals really, that the currents of fate are changing drastically and it was not the various higher powers that ruled this realm at work. But a small event, a decision, that changed the course and left the rest of the word to catch up.

"This is what always happens when we don't see someone coming," comes a very familiar male voice behind her.

"And I'd appreciate it if you didn't show up, uninvited." She turns to the intruder.

"Needs musts*," then he sits down tiredly. "What is it with threats from pretty ladies lately? You're the second one that jumped down my throat when meeting me."

"Perhaps because on some level we know that you are not just a simple messenger, as you say you are."

"That would mean …huh." He closes his eyes, humming in deep thought, "I'd be damned, if it's not possible. Though it would explain so much," he mutters under his breath. She regards him for a moment, weighing the possibilities.

"I've been thinking of returning home lately," she offers, and she is, not just to Tahiti, but all the way home; she is sure that Gramma Moana will be glad to see her.

"Home, as a home, or home?" He tilts his head; making air quotes with both his hands at the word 'home,' the bowler hat askew. He presents a perfect picture of a shabbily dressed simple messenger. Though he is anything but simple, though he sometimes does act as a messenger and balancer for the Powers that Be, and she knows that he has his own goal just by looking at his aura.

"Home," she stresses the word, "as in not home in this Earth dimension but back home on Motunui."

"I thought she'd be the one though," then he pauses, and she has to blink at the sudden shift in conversation. It appears that Pio will get to the point and reason of his coming to see her. "No, she was the one, darn it. Well that tosses the prophecy of Universal Recreation out the window, along with a couple of other prophecies..."

"And you telling me this because?" she trails off; her eyebrow quirks up; he is never this chatty. Prone to sarcasm and irony, but not the chatty rambling he is doing now.

"Nah, I just really have no one to talk this through," he says, and then he shrugs. "That and like her now, you have nothing to do with this dimension's Fate," and she'd love to know how she could hear the capitals on the word fate.

"Lucky me," she drawls, "you still didn't explain why you are here, Pio."

He blinks, "Pio, huh? Somehow this name sounds better, with a kind of an Italian ring to it…"

"It is Hawaiian for whistle," she interrupts him.

"Well either way, still better sounding than Whistler. I think I'll use it from now on. After all, my path has changed too now."

At her 'get to the point' look he sighs. "Why does every worthy of a loss of the soul hot, human female get all annoyed at me? It's unfair." Then he gets serious. "Well the thing is, with this itty bitty change down at Hellmouth Central, certain elements cannot stay here, on this plane, sooo," he drags out the word, aggravating her, "I think you should join Angel Investigations at the old Hyperion Hotel."

"Why?" Then she shakes her head, "you'll need to give me more than that, Pio, I'm not one of yours, remember?" she states calmly, and she isn't. She is not a native human to this Earth, granted she lends a helping hand as compensation for staying here undisturbed on occasion, but that is it.

"All right, all right. I'd give you more, OK? One possible future that ends this whole mess the way that is all right for everyone … is for certain elements go home with ya, get it?"

"And how would I recognize those certain elements, Pio? More importantly why would I?"

"Weeellllllll," he draws out the word, and she can see that he really, really doesn't want to tell her, "It's like this you see: itty bitty doesn't have a destiny or a prophecy hanging over her right now, but soon the metaphorical dust will settle, and ALL versions end pretty badly for an eight year old kid."

"Since when are you so concerned about ONE life? Because you are very much for 'The Greater Good' and 'Ends justifies the Means' kind of guy."

"Well, the thing is that that itty bitty girly kind of pulled at the strings of Fate pretty badly. And I really need to check if one of her parents or even grandparents comes from Alternative Earth or something, because that was the third time the Powers, as well as me, could not see it coming," he finishes.

"I see that you are still very cryptic…" then she holds up a hand, "All right, just how many people will I be taking with me?"

"Excluding you, seven. And it is in their aura now, so you'll be able to pick them out of a crowd so to speak." And with that Whistler disappears, one blink and he is just gone.

Seven people, huh, well, it's not like her to be so hesitant to meet new people, people who Lorne considers his friends. Granted that he loves people in general, but he was the first who really had known her, the real her.

They were both stranded here on Earth, he a Pylean native, and she from another version of Earth. The Earth that was never ruled by demons …she smiles. It is time for Agnes to return home.

***Hyperion Hotel - lobby***

She is looking at the tableau before her. It is so entertaining that she steps aside as to not be noticeable. Apparently Angel Investigations is having a cleaning day.

"I'd - just like to say thank you," the short haired brunette, with couple of lighter highlights, is saying, "You believed in me when no one else would. Even in my darkest hours you were there for me." She is almost crying. "And that means more to me than you'll ever know." The Brunette actually sniffles at that, though Agnes has to admire the woman's hairdo. She just wishes that her unruly hair was so stylish … or easy to style. Agnes swears that her hair has a mind of its own.

"I guess what I'm really trying to say is - I love you. - To all my fans: this is for you!"

Applauding draws Agnes' gaze to a blue eyed brunette; this one has long hair, and is sitting on the floor, wearing yellow plastic gloves … though her hair looked cute and gently curving.

"Wow! That was just - wow. 'cause... oh, and with the tears! I-I got chill bumps all up my arms," the long curly haired brunette says and Agnes really needs names.

"Yup. That's the famous speech. Not that I'll ever use it of course - unless they start handing out awards for best slime and grime. - Oh, I swear. Next time Angel decides to blow something up he's cleaning his own scorch marks."

"Well," if that isn't an opening that Agnes was prepared to use, to insert herself into the conversation. "I would say that then Caritas and Lorne should be looked after and fixed up first, yes? After all it got with big boom but without the applause."

A dark skinned young man walks in wearing a hairnet and facemask and carrying a spray bottle. "Ladies. Less yammering, more scrub." He then notices her, "Ohh good day…"

"Agnes. Agnes Bellfleur. And I'm not a customer, but I am looking for my friend Lorne – you know the tall green one."

"I'll go call him, um – I'm Fred," curly … no Fred introduces herself, and then the short haired brunette steps forward, while Fred darts around them and upstairs.

"I'm Cordelia Chase, hello."

"Hello," Agnes then remembers her, "ahh, you're the one Lorne went to Pylea for."

"Yes, I was a Princess there." Cordelia beams, and wow were her teeth white, then she recalls Lorne mentioning that Cordelia wants to be an actress.

Congrats," she says to Cordelia; technically Agnes was born a princess, if Waialiki had royals and not chiefs, briefly she wonders if Gramma Moana is still chief or if she had passed the mantle to her daughter, Agnes's mother, while Agnes was gone. Who knows she might even have had a little sibling born during her absence.

"And I'm Charles Gun." Then Charles turns to Cordelia. "Wes back yet?"

"No he's still at the store picking up some more extra strength icky removal," Cordelia remarks, while pulling her glows off and motioning Agnes to follow her inside.

"Look who is up from his nap …" A tall, handsome, and dark haired man walked down…no not a man, a vampire with a soul, so this is Angel, Agnes thinks. Then her eyes go to the little bundle … the reaction is instant, this baby, no more than couple of months if not less she isn't an expert in decreeing babies' ages is one of the people she'll be taking with her … but there is no glow around any of the others, so they'll have to stay.

That will be problematic; she has no desire to be branded as a baby-kidnapper and be on the run, while trying to find the others. Mentally she promises that if she'll see Pio ever again, she will drown him in the sea.

"Oh Conner!" Cordelia takes steps toward the baby and Angel, who curls up around the baby, like a mother bob-cat, as Cordelia stretches out her hands.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa dirty people are not touchy my baby."

What …? Okay, why do people or vampires feel the need to baby talk around babies? It is so corny.

"But pig drinking bloodsuckers are okay?" Cordelia says, and then at Angel's look rolls her eyes. "I meant that in a nice way. Okay I'm gonna wash my hands, but when I get back I have first dibs on the baby snuggles. And oh this is Agnes Bellfleur, she is looking for Lorne."

"Hello," she nods a greeting at the vampire, eyes firmly on his face; she is ignoring the baby at the moment. It is not like she has to grab the little tyke and run for it; he is after all the first of the people she has to find.

"Hi, ehm I'm Angel." He nods, "I apologize, that I can't shake hand, but I have no where clean to put my son you see."

"I know who you are, Lorne talked about you a lot." Then she smiles reassuringly, "and it's fine I don't need a handshake."

Black eyebrows rise. "Oh he did?"

Now he sounds like Lorne doesn't care about him. Agnes has found that Lorne likes people – humans very much. And the ones in Angel Investigations, Lorne considers to be very good friends.

"Yeah mostly good stuff." She nods.

"Mostly."

She smiles, "Just funning you."

"Ohm."

"You take everything too seriously, live a little, even if you are of the undead kind," she says smiling at the now also smiling man.

Just then she notices a tall lanky man with dark brown stubble and hair, with gold rimmed glasses, and very pretty blue eyes … and she can not help but smile; he has the same aura glow as the baby – Connor if she recalls the name correctly.

Now she has two. Five to go.

"Where is she?" the man breathes as he heaves a couple of bags inside. "And uh, terribly sorry I didn't know we had a customer," he says, with a slight, but polished British accent. "I am Wesley Wyndam-Pryce and I run Angel Investigations."

"Agnes Bellfleur," she introduces herself, and shaking his hand in greeting, "hello, pleased to meet you. And I'm not a customer; I'm here to see Lorne. Your employee… err Fred went to find him."

"Ah I see, well …"

"Don't mind me," she smiles at the flustered British man, "Mr. Wyndam-Pryce I know what it is you do here, and I can promise I won't be a hindrance. But I really need to see Lorne…" then she trails off "…oh, it's Cordelia Chase's birthday."

"How do you know this?" Angel asks pretty forcefully, making Agnes glare at the vampire and with satisfaction, she notices, he actually flinches back; she supposes that villagers of her birth island saying that she had her grandmother's 'no more, nonsense you childish powerhouse' glare are spot on.

"Aggie here is a friend that helped with finding that hotspot to enter Pylea."

At Lorne's voice they all look up, and there he is in his whole bright suit and green skin glory. Agnes smiles and holds up her hands, Lorne mimicking her actions, and they share an affectionate hug.

"We are going upstairs," Wesley says, while Charles, who had returned, carries a cake.

"Yeah, you go up to our charmante mademoiselle Chase. I'll talk with my friend." Lorne turns to his friends.

"Hey Lorne, I'm going home but not alone as it…" she says, after the others have disappeared from sight.

"Sing for me, Sugary flower," Lorne interrupts, "I can see stuff, lots of stuff, swirling about and I really need to make heads and tails outta that."

"Ou mata e matagi, Ou loto mamaina toa, Manatu atu, Taku pelepele, Manatu atu.**" She sings one of the songs her Gramma Moana used to sing when telling Agnes stories of her adventures before bedtime. Agnes hopes that her grandmother is still alive in Motunui, her home world.

"Oh wow," Lorne breathes. "That was something, Sugar Flower; you have beautiful voice and considering the alternative fate that Wes and … they are better off if they go with you."

"Yeah, but I can't just grab them and jump dimensions, that needs preparations and the right star alignment, not to mention the right place, which by the way is the Bermuda Triangle," she says seriously, "that and I have no idea when I'll come across the other five that have to come with us."

At that Lorne laughs, "Oh that's easy, I saw them while singing; I can draw them for you."
"You can draw?" She didn't know that, she knew Lorne could sing, and of his ability to read the futures of persons singing, but she didn't know he could draw a portrait.

"Baby," he sighs dramatically, guiding her to the stack of papers, "Honey sugar pie, I am an artist, so yes I can draw them." Then he waves at the pile. "Now if you want charcoal drawings I can get to work, but if you want color that'll take a bit more time. Oh, oh I know, I can do hair and eyes in color, but the rest in charcoal."

"Thank you."

"You welcome, Maemae." She stares, she hasn't heard or been called that name since coming here when she was just sixteen years old, hungry for adventure that would rival her grandmother's.

"As for the other things, well, as far as I saw, it'll work out fine," Lorne soothes.

"That is …" whatever Agnes wants to say next is drowned out by the noise of glass breaking.

Exchanging quick glances they both run upstairs. When they run through the door, everyone is clustered around the body that lies on what is left of the glass cabinet.

"Oh no," a woman's voice, Agnes has to think for a bit, Fred, is saying.

"Take him," Angel hands his baby son to Wesley; she half expects them to both disappear with her at that moment, but that would be silly, and too easy for her.

"Come on Cordy, wake up. It's all over, come back to us." Angel is leaning over the downed Cordelia, who is not responding. She is breathing though, and Agnes notices the slight rise and fall of her chest, but what draws her attention is a … sort of washed up figure standing right by Angel and the unconscious Miss Chase.

Fred is looking down at the two fearfully. "Angel, is she …"

"NO!" Angel is very vehement, but Agnes can almost hear another voice. "Her heart is still beating. Let's get her over to a couch. Lorne do you have anything?"

"Did she have a vision?" Agnes asks, while still watching the foggy figure that looks suspiciously like Cordelia Chase. From the corner of her sight, she sees Fred nod.

"…y…see….e…" the figure is looking right at her. Did Miss Chase somehow astral project? She is not a ghost; the body is still very much alive.

"I'm picking up some hardcore woo-woo vibes in the room. This isn't medical, kids. It's mystical," Lorne says to the room at large.

"And I am picking a presence," she adds in her two cents, then she turns and addresses the projection of Miss Chase, "and yes I can hear you but it is muffled; you need to say it faster and louder …better!" Agnes says, but then she is quickly crowded by the vampire.

"Oi," she yells, and pushes his face away, with enough force to make him stumble. "I can't hear her if you are in my face, idiot!"

"Seltrex!" Fred yells.

Wesley sits heavily on the chair. "Oh God." She is tempted to join him.

"What's Seltrex?" Angel asks giving Mr. Wyndam-Pryce his undivided attention. Wow, Agnes thinks, talk about hyper focusing tunnel vision.

"..thg! …." She hears from the blurry silhouette. But she really doesn't feel the need to stop them in finding out. Who knows it might help cure Cordelia, even if medicine is not the root of this problem.

"Seltrex is a highly powerful migraine medication."

Charles Gunn stands up. "Maybe we should get her to a hospital."

"So they can do what?" Angel frowns, while gazing off into the distance, probably remembering some event that connected with this one. "Do what they did last time, strap her to a bed and tell us there's no hope?"

Wesley holds up his hand, "Angel is right. Seltrex is potent but it's not the cause of the catatonia." Then he turns toward Agnes, "You can see and hear her?"

"Yes, but only as a blurry colorful silhouette and I can hear the whole sentence if she talks loudly and very fast. But that's not helping us find out what is wrong with her."

Fred steps closer to the two, just as Angel moves in to invade her personal bubble, again.

"That's what I'm saying. There is so much we don't know. If Cordelia is taking a drug this powerful in secret, the visions are probably doing a lot more damage than she lets on."

"This last one must have overloaded her," Charles Gunn says, looking down at his unconscious friend.

"Don't say last!" and Angel stops crowding her at the drop of the hat, if any of them wore a hat.

"Okay? She'll come out of this. She has to."

"She -ll."

"Okay. Look, if this is a mystical problem there has to be some kind of mystical solution."

"That is a great idea," Agnes nods, but she feels that if would be good if she'd warned them, "but those mystical forces won't take kindly if you ignore why you are here to bother them."

"You don't know that." And suddenly he looms over her … again. She is seriously considering staking this neurotic vampire.

"Actually, Angel-cakes" Lorne pulls the hovering vampire away from her "she has a point; you can't ignore the vision completely."

"Gunn," Angel turns to Charles, "you and Fred go to Cordy's place."

"And she just said that that is a bad idea." Agnes repeats after Cordelia.

"And how do we know that you are telling the truth," Angel says, glowering her way suspiciously. Honestly this vampire, lucky Miss Chase shares Agnes's frustration and a string of threats come from the inspiring actress. So Agnes hurries with forwarding Miss Chase's message to Angel.

"She is saying that if you don't, she'll make sure I tell your ex…um, Fluffy…Ok now she is laughing, oh it's Buffy, all about your escapade with Darla."

"So she is hiding something." Angel says.

Agnes huffs an irritated breath, and then her hand shoots out, latching onto the vampire's ear, hey if it worked on a demigod …"Listen, you neurotic moron," she hisses, while he yelps in surprise, but her fingers are firmly and painfully clamped on his earlobe. "What she hides are probably the headaches she gets from visions. The vision that she had now is important and needs to be solved, before you seek answers because the Powers can be picky about things like that."

"She is right," Mr. Wyndam-Pryce says, and she releases the vampire's ear and almost smiles when she sees him rubbing the sore spot.

"Cordy said that there is a girl in Reseda that's about to be fed to a demon with no eyes and three mouths," Fred supplies.

"I'll hit the books, Gunn and Angel will drive to Reseda, and I'll call you with information about the demon."

"Right."

"Angel, go," Wesley says to the hesitating vampire. "Lorne will find the entrance for the Higher Powers, where you can ask about Cordelia, but that girl in Reseda needs help, now."

"Cordelia says that the girl is in a house on one seven one Oak street the middle of Reseda," Agnes says, passing the message on without the complaining that accompanied the instructions.

Not that Miss Chase seemed to mind, she was mostly just venting her frustration and fear.

"You," Angel whirls on Lorne, like a green demon seeking missile, "have a connection to the Powers That Be and you're gonna find me a way to talk to them. Understand?"

Lorne backs up a step: "A-angel honey, it's not that easy. Contacting the Powers is a muddy, not to mention dangerous, area. But this is a - this is a bit too much to ask. Besides we should contact the middle guys not the top."

Angel hands rest on his yellow clad shoulders, "I'm not asking for middle guys, I want to talk with the top." And with a dramatic, that made Agnes wish that she had boxed both his ears, swish of his coat he left.

***Two hours later***

"Err, Miss Bellfleur, why are you sitting on the floor … oh I'm sorry."

"I'm just playing solitaire, Mr. Wyndam – Pryce, you haven't interrupted anything," Agnes says, and then she stands up to face the boss of Angel Investigations. "And it's Agnes."

"Only if you refer to me as Wesley."

"Well then pleased to meet with you, Wesley, was there anything you needed?"

"Ahh yes, Cordelia was saying that there are whispering voices hounding her."

"Good God, is she in danger; did you hear what those voices are saying?"

"I'm confidant that those voices are not evil, however they make Cordelia uneasy. She is afraid that they'll take her away. Were Mr. Angel and Mr. Gunn successful in saving that girl in Reseda?"
"Yes, they're returning, however Lorne is not back yet."

"It'll be fine."

"I hope so."

"I …what?!" Agnes exclaims when she sees a wind that is not affecting her or Wesley, only Cordelia who is backing out of the room that they are in and into a corner, slowly sliding down to the floor.

"What's happening?" Wesley asks her.

"Shh, I think this is a test of some sort," she whispers urgently, "pretend that I can't see it … there is one of the messengers of the Higher Powers talking with Cordelia in the next room."

"All right," is the man's answer, and she is equal parts glad that he listened to her and puzzled at his trust. "Can you describe the messenger?"

"He said his name is Skip; I heard about a messenger that was named that, from Pio or rather he introduces himself as Whistler and …" at Wes's look she pauses and then whispers her own question. "You know Whistler?"

"I heard and had read about him; his most known recent entanglement was in Sunnydale." He adjusts his gold rimmed glasses. "He is a balance demon that works with the Powers that Be."

"They are gone now," then she looks at the lying and breathing Cordelia. "The astral body and Skip that is."

Wesley nods. "Now we wait."

"Yeah, Angel is not going to be happy with a test like this; it usually tests mental strength, not physical."

"We won't tell him then."

"Lorne back yet?"

Speak of the devil and he'll appear.

"Ahh, Angel, not yet," Wesley answers and Agnes stands up to face the vampire.

"How about Cordy, is she alright; what did she say?" the next set of questions are fired at her.
"She is fine, she is resting."

Before she can be questioned on the subject of Cordelia even more Lorne comes in moaning; his clothes are torn and his left horn is dangling by a thread. "Oh, for the love of God, somebody get me a sea-breeze."

Fred rushes to him, "Lorne! What happened?"

Lone shakes his head, "I can't really talk about it. They cast a spell. I went down to the lo..." The next words that tumble out of his mouth are completely incoherent gibberish. "See?"

"That will pose a problem."

"Understatement, Wes."

"Still that gives credence to our assumption and with the appearance of the messenger from the Powers … Cordelia is facing a test of some kind."

"What, no, she is doing enough with the visions … Did you get the information where I can contact the Powers that Be?"

"Oh, why yes, Angel. My horn should grow back in a couple of days. So kind of you to be so concerned. Well, they didn't say I couldn't write it."

Lorne holds out a piece of paper with an address scrawled on it. Angel takes it, grabs his coat, and heads for the door.

"Angel," Lorne calls after him, "all kidding aside, this isn't something to be taken lightly. Only a champion can deal with the conduit. And even then you have to la-argh arr..."

"I'll keep that in mind."

But before Angel can walk out of the door, Cordelia arcs back, screaming in pain. Angel moves so fast, one minute he is by the hotel's door, the next by the couch, holding onto the screaming woman's shoulders, so that she doesn't tumble off the couch or hurt herself with the thrashing about.

"What's happening to her?" Fred asks watching the struggling woman, who withers in pain. Suddenly the screaming stops and Cordelia sits up on the bed, gasping an opening her eyes to look at all of them.

Angel catches her in a hug. "I thought I'd lost you."

Cordelia snorts, "Like you could get rid of me so easily." Then she grabs hold of her head.

"No horns," she mutters, then she checks her back side, "and no tail. Whew just checking!" Then she scrambles up off the couch and screeches. "It feels so good to be solid again, and ohh vision …"

"We took care of that …"

"No. The one I'm having right now. There is a young man in a park in Glendale. Uh, somewhere near a pond. There is a demon waiting for him. He's red with four, no make that five horns."
Angel looks at the others then back at Cordy.

"Uh, Cordy?" Angel says watching her.

"What, why are you guys looking like I sprouted horns … did I?"

"No, but you are flouting a foot from the ground," Wesley remarks, calm and collected as always.

"What?!"

*** Sunnydale January 28, 2002 ***

He is getting married – in the middle of May. Anya wants a spring wedding and she wants to invite all his and her extended family and friends. That probably means Vengeance Demons on the bride's side. Perhaps he should ask Willow if there is some sort of ban spell of the word 'wish' because yeah, if somebody wishes for something in that crowd, it'll be problematic.

Especially now, when they don't have Buffy; she wasn't supposed to die, she definitely wasn't supposed to become a child – she was supposed to save the world, be their friend and then they would've thrown a saving the world after party.

He doesn't know who or what he should blame for that … Monks for making Dawn into Buffy's sister are the prime candidates for it. They should have destroyed the Key.

End of story.

He is lying on his back, on a bed, observing the ceiling; Anya is currently busy with a wedding planner, ever since he practically ran away from Casa del Summers. Away from the accusations that Tara lobbed at him, at them; he didn't want to believe her words.

But he does …and he really does not want to think about that, because if he did …

And …They are getting married. Him and Anya married, not right this instance but soon. This spring in fact, Anya already has a date for the event and everything; he'll need to see if that rent a tux store he used for Prom still exists.

And he does not know what he should think or even feel about that.

Him getting married. To Anya, former vengeance demon, sure he dreamed of scoring the girlfriend … preferably Buffy. Buffy never saw him that way though, which he gradually accepted. He did. With the occasional slip up, but he did.

"You're a whipping boy. Raised by mongrels and set on a sacrificial stone." That was what a very late, very much snake food, Snyder said to him in a dream, which he had after that spell they did that one time to let Buffy fight that Cyborg guy. Right before the First Slayer chick ripped his heart out.

It feels like all those things happened so long ago. Sometimes he wishes, BUT only in his thoughts, that he would dearly like to return to that 'ages ago to the good old days on the Hellmouth when things were simple, when Buffy was a hero like Spiderwoman or Wonder Woman' to rewind time, to say things he should, and to do things he didn't.

So many, no, not really regrets, he didn't regret befriending Buffy, or helping her, or oh God saving her with CPR; it didn't burn so much for her to chose Angel … no, he thinks bitterly, that still bothers him. But if he is honest with himself, and when he has a cool head to actually stop and think, Angel being a vampire has nothing to do with his dislike of him.

Though now that he has Anya that is mostly a knee jerk reaction.

But back then, when he only settled on Cordelia, that didn't quell his attraction toward the blonde Slayer. He was just distracted with the Queen C, but not enough to not feel vindictive when in his jealous-hate of Angel.

When Angel lost his soul, that was more on the line of him thinking 'why him, and not me'. Angelus was right in the hospital, yeah, as much as it pained him to admit it, but it was more about how Angel lost his soul than that he did lose it. If not for that, he'd be just a run of the mill vampire. Though if he was only a friend to Buffy, Xander would have probably wanted to re-soul him too. Because Angel would be a friend then and not a rival; hey he was a petty teen then. He never claimed to be Saint Alexander the Great – he is after all the normal one of the bunch. The support guy, the donuts guy, Willow's bestest bud and Buffy's as she put it; 'Xander-shaped friend', who … well at the time, got his shots in.

And admittedly he did prick Buffy with 'you only want your boyfriend back', unjustly; she never pushed Willow to cast the spell; Willow volunteered to cast it. In retrospect re-souling Angel was the proper choice, not that he saw it that way. No he did, he was just irked that Buffy still loved Angel, but really if it had been Anya or Willow … he would have been exactly the same.

It was not that soulless Angel targeted him, or Willow; no Angel was far more focused in tormenting Buffy with the taunting and then slipping away, before she could stake him. Oh how Xander would've liked for that to actually happen, but Angel was slippery and stayed in the shadows – watching and waiting and stalking Buffy.

And then there was all that mess with Acathla – he rubs his face, now that still leaves a sour taste in his mouth. Not the part where he didn't tell Buffy about the spell being recast by Willow. It's not that Buffy knew that Willow would disregard Buffy's wish and cast the re-souling spell anyway.

But it was that he could've said so many better things than 'Willow says kick Angel's ass' but that just flew out of his mouth and then he could not take it back. Even then he felt bad, and more awful still when Buffy didn't show up the following days and soon weeks. And when he heard that Mrs. Summers kicked her out in a moment of anger … yeah, he really wished that his last words to Buffy were not 'kick his ass'.

Maybe then she'd stayed and not have felt abandoned so much that she had to leave, if he said something more encouraging, like 'it'll be fine, good luck' or 'don't worry I believe in you' or 'you will win this and then we'll party' or 'I'll take care of Giles, you win this'.

Or if he'd waited outside Crawford mansion, for Buffy to came out. Giles was hurt yes, but he had no life threatening injuries. She could have easily waited for her name to be cleared in Giles's apartment, and then they'd make Mrs. Summers see reason…like they did, but Buffy would be with them, not living in cartoon box in some back alley in LA.

When she came back on her own, he was glad, but also a bit worried, what if that message came out? Willow would be upset, Buffy would be upset; he did not want that, so he stayed away.
The zombie attack pretty much washed away any bad, and awkward stuff between them all, and Buffy's life in LA and the whole Angel affair was forgotten and not mentioned again. She was back with them, where she belonged, so all was right in his book.

All was good. Then Dead Boy came back. Xander was worried that they'd be all over each other … because he'd do it in Angel's place. So he told Faith, and immediately regretted it, that was why he followed her. Fortunately Angel was not dusted. That was good. After that, he tolerated Angel.

Sort of. Well enough to not mind Buffy going after Faith for the cure.

Faith was evil at the time. She shot White Hat; she needed to be dealt with and Buffy was the only one who could defeat Faith. If the defeat, her blood, would enable another to fight the good fight so be it.

Buffy would do it for any of them if they were poisoned. And if Angel wasn't; who knows who Faith would have poisoned instead.

If she'd shot Willow, he'd have killed her; she would not live through that night, he knows that. Heck Oz would probably help. And even the Slayer is not bullet proofed.
It was a hard road, but his feelings shifted, over the years, from romantic ones to seeing Buffy as sort of a little sister slash friend that needs his protection and nourishment – his Slay Gal. Just like his Willow – the Witchy Girl.

Cordelia already left Sunnydale so she wasn't one of his girls any more. Was she? She didn't call; she didn't even send a Christmas card last December. Queen C through and through, but then she didn't even thank him after getting her that Prom dress.

He knows that he loves Anya. But sometimes he thinks that she is just too much. That he is not ready to commit to her.

Will committing to her mean abandoning his other girls?

"Hey Xander look at this; Buffy can be the Flower Girl, in her own little dress, oh that is perfect." Anya leans over his vision, showing him a Wedding magazine with a glossy picture of little girls in pink, with roses in their hair, throwing flower petals before a white dressed bride.

"Yeah An, you are right." He sighs.

"Soo, you better make up with Tara so that Buffy will be our Flower Girl, mister."

That he intended to do for a while now. He knows that Tara got a guidance counselor job at the newly built High school, where Amanda and Cassie and her boyfriend Mike, or was it Pike, go. Also that coma kid that Buffy helped who could make nightmares real joined their group. Aww the Scrappy Gang has arrived.

"Yep, I will to that, right now." He stands up and Anya beams and kisses him.

"Ohh, want me to go with you? But I still have a lot of dresses to see …"

"Ahh An, you do know I am a groom and I can't see your wedding dress."

"Right, it is bad luck … you go now, and when you came back … wear this as a blindfold."

"Right."

****

"So this is Amy's house," he mutters when he comes to the nice suburb home, with a garden, and a swing in the back.

"Hello," he suddenly hears behind him. Xander jumps and whirls around to see a middle-aged man and woman standing behind him. OK daylight so not vampires. That's good; they can still be demons though.

"Hi, err I'm visiting," he says, the older couple watching him warily. OK, probably human people in the know about the wildlife around here.

"Amy, are you visiting our daughter young man?" the guy asks him pointedly.

"I'm engaged to be married so no," he blurts, warding them off. "I'm here to see …" he starts to say when two blurs pass him.

"Mr. Madison, Miss Harness, welcome back, did you enjoy the opera in LA." Buffy prettily jumps around them along with big wolf like black dog; goodness but he had grown big since he saw it last.

"Tamarina, dear, calm down." Mr. Madison smiles. "And it's Uncle Paul and Aunt Briar. Now Amy, Daniel, and Tara are home, yes?"

Xander sees Buffy nod, but he is distracted by a powerful tug on his pants; he looks down and sees teeth and two glowing red eyes.

"Ack." He jumps away … and he can see the gaping maw widening into a doggy smile, accompanied with short snorting noises. The mutt is laughing at him.

"Benji, come here," he hears Buffy call as she runs back to the house. Mutt spares him another glow-y red look, before the red fades into a normal dog eye color and he turns and trots after Buffy.

"Dad! Briar! Welcome home." And Amy walks out of the house, closely followed by Tara. "You came just in time for lunch; did you know that Oz can cook a mean steak?!"

Of course he does, Xander thinks, after all he goes all furry every month.

"Xander, why are you here?"

At Tara's voice he turns to face her. "Tara, you look good."

"Did Willow send you?"

"No, Willow doesn't know, look can we talk? It's about my wedding with Anya." He explains to Tara, Amy's dad and stepmom and Amy.

"Well if it's about the wedding, why don't you come inside with us, Xander," Mr. Madison says, slapping him on the back, so that Xander stumbles a little at the unexpected friendly slap.

He looks up at the older man, who is smiling a friendly smile at him. "Huh?"

"You were classmates with my daughter; I saw your picture in yearbook."

"You have our yearbook?" Xander asks wondering; if he remembers correctly, at the time those photos were taken Amy was already a rat.

"Yes," Amy nods, confirming his thoughts, did she read his mind?! "Even if I am not in it, neither is Buffy for that matter."

"She isn't?" he yelps in surprise. "What, why?"

Amy shrugs. "Don't know and she is not around to ask." And with that Amy enters her parents' house, leaving him momentarily distracted on the threshold.

Now that is so wrong, and immediately he grows angry at that thoughtless comment. They saved Amy from her evil witch of a mother. And then … all right he did blackmail her to cast that love spell that backfired….

***Madison house - living room***

"So what are you, some kind of a warlock, or a wizard, or a knight, or male equivalent of a Slayer, or a Werewolf like Daniel?"

"No,'m just a normal Joe."

"You sound disappointed." Miss Briar Harness's voice is … Xander can not describe the emotion behind it, wary, maybe?

"They'll never know how tough it is, Miss Harness. To be the one who isn't chosen; to live so near the spotlight and never step in it. But I know. I see more than anybody realizes, 'cause nobody's watching me."

"But did you stop and think, to see, how it is for them? To have no choice, to be chosen, to have a world on their shoulders?" she interrupts him; "You can see what they are, what powers they are given, but not what it costs them to have those same powers."

"I know Paul had valid concerns since Amy inherited her mother's magical aptitude. To be wary of magic. But getting to know Tara and her daughter" Xander can not help but bristle at that. Buffy is not Tara's daughter, he almost says, but he manages to stay quiet, mostly because Amy threatens to turn him into a Madagascar Hissing Cockroach, through telepathy.

"Trough Tara teaching Tamarina, Amy as well as Paul and myself, we are exposed to a more gentle magical environment, and have a different opinion on magic now; one with no connection to Catharine."

Mr. Madison nods. "I admit, when Amy came back," he squeezes Amy's hand, Xander saw when he said that, and gets an answering squeeze in return. "I was afraid of her, and her admitting that she can use magic only made it worse."

"I'm sure my comment of erasing your memories of me missing, didn't help either."

"No it didn't."

"Sorry daddy, I was just …"

"Afraid, just as I was." Mr. Madison turns back to Xander. "But then we started talking, with Tara as a go between, and seeing how Tara is with her own child …"

"Ouch, Amy why did you kick me!"

"You wanted to make a snide comment!"

"Did not."

"Hissing Roach, Xander."

"Besides," Oz steps into the Casa Del Madison's living room. "We did explain the familiar relationships, between all that live here. And legally Tamarina is Tara's biological daughter. Let it go, man. You can't change it and neither can Willow, I thought you realized that."

"…" Xander is speechless, and then his shoulders slump, like a large weight is placed on them. "Yeah I did. I accepted that Buffy is gone after I found out the spell didn't work."

***Night of 28th of January***

Spike is standing by the corner of 1st Main Street, his bike parked beside him with two shotguns strapped to the seat. He rolls his cigarette between his teeth, smirking in anticipation for the fight to come; the alarm the witches set up at the 'Welcome to Sunnydale' sign went off a half an hour ago.

So they all saddled up, Amanda pretty much handed them the shotguns, much to the irritation of Giles. The Watcher was so flustered that he nearly broke his glasses polishing them so hard. Little bit, her dog, Tara and Amy were with armed to the teeth Paul and Briar in the Madison's house.

But those that will fight are grouped with three people per group and are charged with covering the streets, where they know the Hellions will drive into town. A plus though is that apparently people's awareness of danger kicked in and there were no Happy Meals with legs walking around.
He tilts his head to the side when he hears the rumbling of motors.

The Hellions have arrived.

*** Crossroads, between 4th Main Street and Market street***

Giles is watching from his car, Xander sitting beside them, and Willow and BuffyBot in the back. Anya is in the Magic Box with Oz and his friends; they had to insure that their place for research came out of this intact.

"Oi Band of Merry Bunch," comes Spike's voice through the Walkie-talkie, "Hellions are here. And I'm going in as soon as they all pass me …. Anddddddddddd show time!"

They can hear shots being fired, and they grab their weapons, shotguns forgotten in the back of the car. They are armed as usual, axes, bats and crossbows.

***State street***

Amanda, Cassie, and Mike are all on the roof of Stacy's gym, taking shots at demons, who are running down both sides of the street, setting fires … until they get shot for their vandalism by the trio on the roof.

***4th Main street***

They have to retreat to Rudkin Factory, since they are quickly overrun; it proves problematic, shooting with crossbows at the fast moving bikers. So they have no choice but to retreat to safer, more appropriate area for hand to hand combat. BuffyBot engages the demons, but at the moment the Bot is cut off from the rest of them and surrounded by Bikers, who are circling the Bot like sharks, smelling blood in the water.

"Ohh great," Xander groans, "a demonic Mad Max biker gang wannabe." The apparent leader, Giles believes that he heard the other demons refer to him as Razor, steps closer to the Bot.

"Slayer. I've been hearing interesting things about you," he says while dismounting and getting closer to the Bot. Giles can see that the demon is watching the Bot closely.

"Willow, why does she pause when opponent initiates conversation?"

"Well, I wanted her to be all quippy, to be exactly like Buffy …"

"Delete that program, Willow," Giles cuts through her explanation. "It just exposes the bloody robot to a close quarter attack."

"Yes," the Bot says, "I am interesting. Are these your friends?"

"They're my guys, yeah," Razor answers coming even closer. Giles frowns; why does the Bot just stand there blinking? All right he did believe that Miss Newton told the truth, but he still has hope that the ruse of an experienced successful Slayer is standing in their path will deter the Hellions.

"Good. Tell them to get on their loud bicycles and go back to wherever they came from …"

"Bloody hell, she is giving them a bloody lecture instead of quips, Willow."

"I'm sorry, OK, Giles. Oh goddess, ohh goddess..." Willow starts to hyperventilate; Giles whips his head around just in time to see BuffyBot falling back into a group of demons.

"Or what? You'll electrocute us?" Razor's voice sends a chill down Giles's spine.

"Giles what do we do?"

"Nothing. Stay put."

"I can do a spell."

"Stay PUT," he hisses and gives both young people a quelling look. "Xander use this contraption to inform the other teams that the Hellions took over the 4th Street." He rattles on while he watches BuffyBot struggling when she is restrained by two demons. Razor then raises his hand to reveal that he has claws that sprang from his fingers and slashes BuffyBot deeply across the chest.

"No," Willow stands up, but Giles grabs her and pushes her back into a sitting position.

"You can repair the damage later. We are safe here, outside you'll get killed."

"You're nothing but a toy. A pretty toy ... do you want to play pretty toy?" They return their attention back outside. Willow is rocking back and forth, Giles notices, and to his relief she has turned away from the window.

"Oh wow, Buffy just kneed Freddy Kruger, and she is free …" Xander comments.

"I would, but you injured me. I have to report to Willow." Giles hears the robot say. And he really hopes that Bot won't lead the demons in her search for repair straight to their hiding place. He sighs when it takes off running away from the factory.

"Get It!" Razor bellows.

"She is not an It, you poophead," Willow growls.

"Willow - I need service!" is the last words Giles hears before the air vibrates from the shouts and roars of the engines as the Hellions drive after the fleeing robot.

***

"When Spike learns that the 4th street was taken, he rolls his eyes in expiration at the Watcher's team. Hellions are one of the rare cases where modern weaponry is more effective than traditional. No wonder they lost 4th Street. Shrugging off, he begins whistling a tune and takes any valuables from dead bodies; then he gets on the best bike he can find and roars down the street to cut down the rest of the Hellions.

Amanda's group reaction … it went pretty much the same.

*** Madison residence***

Tara is shaking her head. When a Hellion tried to torch their house, he was transformed into a rat by Amy for his trouble; the others are shot down by Briar and Paul, while Buffy and she reload for them.

Tara herself made barrier crystals, that erected a barrier on the house walls, windows, and doors, if it so happens that they miss and the Hellions are close to entering this house.

***Nearing 4th street***

Anya is looking around, ducking into an alley when she hears an engine revving nearby, and nearly having a heart attack when coming face to face with Oz and Jinan.

"Was that necessary? A simple "psst" would've been better," she snaps quietly.

"You should not be here," Oz says, deadpanning.

"Shussh," Jinan hisses and all three duck deeper into the shadows.

"Just saying, it's rank!" they hear one of the Hellions complain.

"Get off it, Klyed," growls the other.

"I'm just saying Mag, Razor and the others take off for town, leave us here to hunt strays. It's …urk!" Klyed claws at Mag's hand that is holding him by the throat.

"Hey! You got a bug up your crack, take it up with Razor. Until then, you do what he says and shut your hole. Before I rip you a new one," Mag threatens him and the releases Klyed, then Mag scans their surroundings again, takes a whiff of air, like a dog searching for prey …

"Screw this. Let's get outta here."

"No you are not," Spike says, and suddenly both demons crumble, their necks snapped by Spike and Amanda respectfully.

"Oi Wolf, Demon Girl, Whelps Squeeze come out of the corner will ya!"

***Crossroads of Sycamore street and 2nd Main street***

Spike is watching the cheering demons, while waiting for the others to circle about; both Oz and Anya are holding their own shotguns while they are gaining on the position to get all Hellions in one big crossfire.

"This here is a momentous occasion." The head demon, who the cheering crowd calls Razor, says. Yeah, Spike thinks, very imaginative.

"The beginning of a new era. Now, no question that the open back roads and highways have been good to us, but we got ourselves a juicy little burg just ripe for picking..."

The cheers drown out his next words, and that was fine; it was a crappy speech anyway. The four bikers that are on bikes and not in the cheering crowd start their engines, and there is a rattle of chains.

"And I ain't in any hurry to leave. Are you?" Razor continues. Spike pumps the shotgun in preparation. "Yeah, you will love it here, to bits," he mutters and steps forward, the others mimicking him.

**25th of May 2002 Hotel Room somewhere in Sunnydale after Stag night, morning on the wedding day**

"Oh God damn it," Xander groans.

He is going to die.

He knows it and from what?

A damn hangover.

"Shut it sooding whelp," came a hiss from … Spike? What is Spike doing in his room?
"It is hotel room, after party, man."

That is Oz, Xander coughs and almost pukes on the floor or worse on himself, his head pounds and spin; he feels sick like he'll throw up his own stomach in the next minute.

What in the Hellmouth did he drink last night, day … what time is it and what day!?

"Oi, Wanker Harris, when you talk, turn away; your breath stinks like a group of skunks had an orgy in there."

"Not helping, Spike."

"What you didn't smell him wolf?"

Oz shrugs, and then ducks his nose into the high collar of his shirt. "Eucalyptus oil."

"Oh that helps." Spike nods wisely, and Xander has a distinct impression that Spike hadn't been joking, and that is one skunk imaginary could do without.

"I'm feeling the love here," he grouses, and wow is that his voice? He'll never get drunk again; it's not worth it.

Spike hauls him up by the collar of his shirt. "Come on, I'll get you home because I am feeling nice. How lucky you are."

"Dunno if I should feel relieved about it."

"That is because I'll already have my fun with you."

How ominous .

***Sunnydale –May Sunday 25th, same time, Anya's room***

Wedding
The Bride:
Anya
Bridesmaids: Tara, Willow, Halfrek, Bay, Amy, Cassie, (and) Amanda
Witness for the bride: Spike
The person that gives her away: Giles
Flower girls: Tamarina and Karen

Tara is looking at the list, Willow fidgeting near her, like a startled hummingbird.

"Okay, I'm going to say it, I know that bridesmaids should not outshine the bride, but this is ridiculous," Amy says, while watching her reflection. Tara supposes Amy is right; they are dressed in hideous chartreuse bridesmaid dresses with puffy sleeves. Well that color and general mermaid style part isn't so bad, it just fitted badly.

"Well, it is from good material." Briar looks them over, "If I tuck the ends, to make them more fitting at the top, and I have the same material, in slightly darker shade that would work as a belt to give all of you a waist line …"

"Can you do it? I mean we don't have much time …"

"I have the sashes with me and a needle and thread; I can do it."

"You are the best stepmom ever."

"Thank you, Amy." With that Briar walks out, to get the items needed to adjust their dresses. Which are not too bad, but yeah, not very flattering.

"Oh," at Anya's voice Tara turns around just in time to be hugged by Anya in her fluffy white bathrobe. "You guys look so beautiful."

They don't look hideous or too bad … but beautiful?

"This is the happiest day of my life," Anya says, hugging harder. Well it will be, Tara thinks, even with the slight corrections to their dresses fitting them more.

***Mrs. Harris and Mr. Harris house ***

Xander manages all right, Spike drove him. He kinda feels jealous at Spike shrugging off the hangover just like that. Though he has sneaky suspicion that he drank far more than Spike.
In fact he vaguely remembers Spike passing him his own glass, and then kept pouring alcohol into both glasses and Xander remembers drinking from both.

Spike made him drunk, dead drunk, as in Xander doesn't remember what happened after a certain point. … And God knows what else Spike did to him; he does feel something itchy on his butt and lower back.

He needs a shower; perhaps Spike put some demonic version of itching powder down his pants. He wouldn't put it past the chipped Captain Peroxide, Xander thinks as he squints against the harsh light of day, as he heads towards his parents' house.

"Ahh Xander finally."

"Cousin Carol?"

"Yes, yes, we need to get you ready, hurry, hurry." She ushers him aggressively up the stairs into the guest room, where he was staying before his wedding.

And where he had that brilliant stupid idea to spend his Stag night with his relatives and Spike together … oh it was fine while he had root beer in hand, but after that came the Jägerbombs, tequila shots and some clear liquid, like water, with a lemon.

"Do I have time to take a quick shower, cousin Carol?"

"A very quick one. Let me help you get this off …"

"Cousin Carol …"

"Oh please don't be such a prude, your tush is not the only tushy I have seen, though interesting tattoo you have there."

"What! What tattoo!?"

"It says 'Propriety of Anya Christina Emmanuella Jenkins, if found return to the owner'."
"Spike," he growls, and then marches off to have a long hot shower and plan revenge on the peroxide asshole.

***20 minutes later***

Xander is now dressed in his tuxedo pants, dress shoes, and an unbuttoned dress shirt with undone French cuffs. His hair is still wet from that quick shower, but it is warm, so his hair should dry soon anyway. He feels better too, and he brushed his teeth and took breath mints…a lot of them.

He flinches when his cousin Carol cleans his face with a rag, "What? You had shaving cream around your ears."

"Um thanks."

"Don't mention it, now where was I …"

"That it's all about pain and loss? Is that not a bit pessimistic?"

"No, no, no. I'm saying it wrong. I'm not saying you kids shouldn't get hitched. I'm just saying don't build castles on the sand. Cuz that's when life hits you with the big sack of crap and your heart breaks like a china doll."

"Thanks, Carol," he says, sheepishly. He really hopes his marriage won't turn out the same as Cousin Carol's or his parents' or uncle Rory's…

"Next thing you know, you're trying to find a man who will date a divorcee with a kid. Guess what? No such animal," Carol rants while helping him with the cuffs, and then he feels her stop.
"I hope you don't think you're wearing that."

He looks up to see Carol's ten year old daughter in jeans and a pajama top, Keren. He winces; the last thing he needs is for his kid relative to suffer an asthmatic attack like she did during rehearsal, and she is a flower girl…or now the rice girl, since the petals caused the attack in the first place.

"Hey, Karen!" He waves at the girl. "How are you; let's get you breakfast mkay?" With that he heads toward the kitchen, Carol and Keren close behind.

To be continued …
The next chapter starts to slowly pull the two groups together. After the wedding stuff and couple of other things.
LA group (Wes, Connor and Agnes) and SunnyD group (Tara, Spike, Oz, Amy and Buffy – not counting Miss Kitty Fantastico and Benji) and things are starting to move.

Agnes nicknamed Aggie, was a human psychic and an old friend of Lorne's. She appeared in episode "Over the Rainbow"

* "Needs musts" that Whistler says to Agnes.-fuller form - needs must when the devil drives. that is, if the devil is driving you, you have no choice. Meaning of the phrase:
Necessity compels. In current usage this phrase is usually used to express something that is done unwillingly but with an acceptance that it can't be avoided; for example, I really don't want to cook tonight, but needs must, I suppose.

Lyric that Agnes sings are "Know Who You Are" a song of the Disney animated feature Moana. It is sung by Moana while knowing the truth about Te Kā.
**(Ou mata e matagi)
I have crossed the horizon to find you
(Ou loto mamaina toa)
I know your name
(Manatu atu)
I may have stolen the heart from inside you
(Taku pelepele)
But this does not define you
(Manatu atu)
This is not who you are
You know who you are

-_-Fun Facts:

No.1: Yes Gramma Moana of Agnes is from Disney movie 'Moana'. That kind of sprang up when I saw picture of Moana and had BtVS Wiki Page of Agnes Bellfleur, and then I thought huh there is vague resemblance and puff look plot bunny hopping away. That spawned two chapter story about how Agnes got Moana as grandma – BUT that is for later, like year 2017 later.

No.2: As you know there are now two lines of Slayers. Amanda – and yes that Amanda from the last season of BtVS episode "Potential", who is First of her line and Faith who is latest Chosen One of the old line.

No.3 Buffy's status in Slayer line is pretty much out of the picture, her death would not call another …she is more like Connor now. Whatever power she has wired in her body is now hereditary.

No.4: I did take some fan fiction writer license in changing some of 'Moana' trivia: In movie Motunui is an island, here in fic it's the name for whole dimension (or planet or world). And Moana's surname of Waialiki is used for a name of the island. No.5: Maemae is the name that was given to Agnes at birth, it means '"pure"' or '"holy"' in Hawii, the same meaning that name "Agnes" has. The surname comes in joining of two French words, belle (beauty) and fleur (flower).