Author's Note: I've combined both Buffy and Angel into a single series that is rated MATURE for some dialogue, sexual themes (non-graphic), and violence. I assume you've seen or read all five seasons of Angel and all seven seasons of Buffy. Only aired episodes are considered canon.
A brief word about accents:Rather than murder the English language with a sullied assortment of hyphens and apostrophes, I write most character's dialogue in plain English but with my best attempt at the proper word choice to match that character's way of speaking. For example, instead of saying "Blud'e 'ell wot'dchja do that four?" I'd just spell it correctly and let you assume that Spike has a Cockney (or Northern Whatsford) accent.
If there's something you dislike, I'm eager for criticism. As always, thanks for taking the time to read.
jayman
Connor was buttoning his shirt, sitting on the edge of the bed. Bethany's room reeked of them now, and Connor had found out the real power of touch by making love to a telekinetic woman. For her part, Bethany still lay under the covers smoking a cigarette, with an ashtray resting between her breasts.
"Do you regret doing this?" Connor asked.
"I don't care," Bethany said. "Besides, I thought I told you none of this stuff."
"I'm sorry." Connor pulled on his boots and stood up. "Get dressed. I'll be back in an hour so we can go home."
"Where are you going?" she asked.
"To see if anyone else is nearby." Connor went to the door. "There's food downstairs if you need it."
"Do you just want me to head home?" Bethany bit her lower lip.
"If you think you can make it, I'm just gonna take a walk."
Connor shut the door behind him, stopping a moment to rub his eyes. "That was a terrible idea," he said to himself. "Why do I always fall for older crazy women?"
He went to the landing overlooking the lobby and casually hopped over the railing. He couldn't help thinking about the last time he'd done that, flanked on Jasmine's opposite side by Angel as they set out to kill Fred, for the unforgivable crime of free thought. The only difference was that Angel didn't know what Jasmine was, while Connor saw it the entire time.
He landed with a thud in the lobby below and stopped for a moment, listening. He heard Bethany moving around upstairs but other than that the Hyperion was empty. Connor pulled a thick knife out of one of his boots and started outside.
"Wait," Bethany said from the stairs above him. "I'm coming with you."
"What, are you trying to prove something?" Connor asked.
"Maybe," Bethany said, coming down the steps at a brisk walk. "What difference does it make?"
"You can't come in those clothes. We'll find a store and get you outfitted properly."
"It won't matter if Willow brings back the sun," she said.
As they talked, they made their way out the door. The awning that had been ripped off the other night sat in the sodden grass nearby, puddles and rust collecting from the constant onslaught of the elements. Connor seemed utterly unfazed by the rain, but Bethany used her powers to form a telekinetic bubble around them both, keeping them dry.
"That's a little better," Bethany said.
"Yeah, thanks." Connor crouched down and touched two fingers to the muck. "I don't think there's any people around, not that their scent would stay long in this wet."
"What do you want to do then?" she asked.
"Mostly I was planning to avoid trouble on the way home," Connor said. "Just to make sure no one else was out here. I want to stop at the Army surplus store to see if we can find any boots in your size."
"Ok," Bethany said.
The sound of voices must have summoned them, fading from the darkness, several vampires intent on blood. It was getting harder to find a fresh kill with so many people having fled and the demons killing the rest.
"Where are you two going on this fine evening?" the leader of the gang asked. The rest of his band chuckled, obviously enjoying his display of dominance. They shouted and marked out a large circle around the victims.
"I'm in a good mood," Connor said. "So I'll tell ya what. You pretend like you never saw us. And I'll let you go until next time."
"There's like six of them," Bethany said, worry in her voice, as more and more stepped out of the shadows.
"That's nothing," Connor said.
"Yeah," the leader said. "We're nothing for a pair like you." He took a step forward and unleashed mighty swings at Connor, who not only stepped out of the way but pulled Bethany clear as well.
"I'm warning you, man." Connor said.
The giant vampire took another swing and Connor grabbed his arm to duck underneath it, coming up behind to put him in a half nelson. Bethany looked around for something, anything that she could use as a weapon. She finally decided to rip some shards off a light pole.
While Connor fought with their leader, Bethany dusted four of the remaining vampires. Utterly befuddled, they looked around for a moment. Seeing that their leader wasn't doing too well they ran away.
Connor dove and rolled, picking up one of the stakes Bethany had made. The goliath turned around and, while his new girlfriend watched, Connor jabbed the stake straight through the ribcage and into the heart.
"Told ya," he said, as the dust screamed. He bent down to retrieve his knife, nearly lost in the water.
Willow held a strange herb up to her nose and gave it a sniff. "Nearly unusable," she said. She tossed it aside and picked up another one. They were in the office that'd been assigned as their bedroom, because it had a couch that they could take turns sleeping on, or if they took opposite ends and snuggled in tight, they could just barely manage a nap together.
Willow was going through everything she had, comparing her inventory to the notes she'd cribbed for the spell.
"What happens if we can't get enough of this stuff?" Kennedy asked.
"We'll still be able to cast the spell," Willow said. "But I might need to tap you and Dawn, or someone, in order to make it effective."
"I don't mind but it always feels like I got hit by a truck." Kennedy couldn't help frowning thinking about the last time it'd happened. The results had been good, very good, but there were personal repercussions that had to be considered.
"It wasn't easy to wake up every Potential in the world, you know."
"What do you think that really means?"
"Well, I imagine it will go back to normal," Willow said.
"How can that happen? There aren't any potentials left."
"Yeah but they'll be born, I think. Since Buffy already called a couple, Faith will be next."
"So we have to keep Faith alive long enough for a new potential to be born," Kennedy said.
"Now you know why Buffy and Giles want us to go there so bad," Willow said. "No matter what, we have to get this done tomorrow, because L.A. can't stay dark forever." She went back to sniffing herbs, while Kennedy went back to her game.
"Again," Illyria demanded, watching Spike pick himself up off the floor. "You asked for this, half-breed. Now, as usual, you are unwilling to see it through to the end."
"Just give me a minute," Spike said, holding up his hand. His ragged breathing came in spurts and gasps. After the drama and intensity stirred up by the monk's spell, Spike was glad to get a chance to blow off some steam. But in the aftermath of the threat to Dawn, he felt nothing but relief and satisfaction that Illyria had never meant to harm her. And now, with no malice, he was doing his best to kill her.
Four solid hours of getting pounded by Illyria was more than enough for most people. Spike was just getting warmed up. She had a couple of scrapes and bruises as he figured out more and more effective ways to deal with her ancient techniques. If there was one thing Spike was good at, it was getting inside someone's head.
Illyria stood beside Spike, but she wasn't even sweating. He may land the occasional lucky blow, but his body just didn't have the endurance of her shell.
"You are the only one who isn't treating me differently," Illyria said, tilting her head to try to look into his eyes.
"Because I understand what you did." Spike put his palms flat on his knees and leaned over a bit. "And frankly, Angel would have did it himself if he'd been in your position. Besides, it's not like you hurt the little bit."
"They seem quite concerned about that mark on her wrist."
"Maybe they should be. Then again, maybe it's just a mark." Spike coughed and stood up. "Either way we'll know in a few days. Ready then?"
"Nikodemus thinks that being around Dawn may allow me to safely access some of my powers."
"What?" Spike asked. "How's that work?"
"She weakens the barrier. Nikodemus says if we practice, I may be able to pick and choose. I would be able to hear the green chorus again."
"Who is this bloke, anyway?" Spike asked. He still didn't know it was Wesley, but he knew something wasn't right.
"He was my first Qua'Hazan, the only one who mattered." To Illyria, deceit was as natural as breathing.
"So," Spike said. "You weren't all powerful in your old life? I mean, why didn't you go get him before, if Dawn just let you do something that you already could? And how could his ancient knowledge be in any way relevant to what's going on now?"
"Are you ready to fight or will you just ask questions until I die from it?"
"I'll fight," Wesley said from the doorway.
"Oh," Spike said, turning. "If it's not jolly old St. Nik."
"I'm no saint," Wesley replied, his twisted vocal chords making the most innocent of statements sound like a thinly veiled threat. "We've all done bad things."
"Want to have a go?" Spike asked, immediately shifting his weight up on the balls of his feet.
"I'd love to," Wesley said, enjoying this. "I have to warn you that I haven't actually been in this body in quite some time. I may not know my own strength."
Spike backed up into the center of the ring, making a grand motion of invitation with his outspread arms. "I'm not afraid of you, monochrome."
Wesley threw a slow, lumbering haymaker. Spike easily crossed his arms in front of his face but it didn't do him any good. The strength unleashed by the mask was truly unholy, and he found himself imbedded nearly a foot into the wall.
"Bloody hell," Spike said as he tried to climb out. He made a mental note to dodge instead of block. "You want to play rough, do you?" His face transformed as he leapt back into the fray.
It caused her no pain, but the visions still carried with them all the feelings, the smells, and the reality of the person she was seeing. Cordelia flinched a little bit, reassuring herself that this was happening to someone else, and that it was something she could fix.
She wasn't sure who she was seeing until the girl, who had been lying on her back, propped herself up on one elbow and saw a puddle. Cordelia could realize from the reflection that it was Faith.
Her face was bloody from a large gash that started on her forehead before jumping across her unscathed eye to continue several inches down her cheek. The weapon that caused it was very slender but the scar would be very deep.
Standing above Faith, in Cordelia's vision, was a young girl with the perfectly frozen agelessness that only being a vampire could offer… an ancient vampire. A church rose up before her, and Cordelia suddenly realized what happened.
The voice that issued from the vampire had a strange echo to it in the visions, as though there were a male voice saying the words with her or speaking for her.
"You are only delaying the inevitable. Your friends will not come in time," she said.
Faith was attacked and had fallen back on holy ground to escape. If there were other girls with her, their fate was unknown. That was all Cordelia saw.
She jumped out of bed and ran down the hall to pound on another door. "Angel," Cordy yelled, her fist turning pink from repeatedly slamming off the heavy wood. "Angel, I had a vision. It's Faith, she's in trouble."
Several doors along the hallway opened in a somewhat comedic moment. Everyone appeared with sleep-tousled hair. The door in front of Cordelia opened last and Angel finally stuck his head out.
"What's happened?" Angel asked, falling naturally back into the rhythm that being with her used to have. Visions, action, fade to black.
"Faith, she's in a lot of trouble." Cordelia frowned, destroying the exquisiteness of her face.
"How long?" Angel asked.
"I think it was happening right now," Cordelia said. "Which means there's like no time. Faith was stuck in a church, with some really, really old bitch waiting just outside."
"Ok," Angel said, giving her a quick hug.
She lingered for a moment, luxuriating in the scent of him, before finally stepping back. "We don't have time, the spell has to happen now."
Willow ducked back into her room to get her materials.
Xander started heading down to the lobby, clearing out the Gunn-men along the way in case something went wrong. Dawn sort of mindlessly trailed along behind him.
As she walked by, Angel grabbed her arm. "Dawn."
"What?" she asked. She didn't look up at his face, just watched Xander walk away.
"Stay up here." Angel turned her around back towards her room.
"Why does that matter to you?" she asked, outrage furrowing her brow.
"You said you wanted to be different. Stay up here until you figure out what you want to do." Angel closed the door, and Cordelia and Dawn were left staring after him.
"I guess he's getting dressed?" Cordy offered.
"Yeah," Dawn said, heading down the hall to her room. "I guess."
Spike threw a devastating right, spinning around to follow with backhanded jab. Wesley staggered somewhat, knocked back onto his heels. Fighting with Spike was very much a game of balance. Lose it, and you lost it all.
Spike realized he had him and didn't let up, one punch following another. Wesley fell to one knee, and Spike raised both hands to deliver a chop across his back and a kick to his chest.
Wesley grabbed Spike's foot and stood back up, hoisting him upside-down as he did so. He easily held the vampire's few hundred pounds aloft. Spike struggled and spun, trying to pull Wesley's knee out from under him. Finally annoyed by his efforts, Wesley tossed Spike to land flat on his back across the ring.
Wesley charged forward and stomped where Spike had landed, cracking the floor and sending a cloud of dust into the air. Spike was already on his feet, kicking and continuing to attack Wesley's right knee.
"Enough," Illyria said. "This room can not contain such a fight."
Spike offered his right hand, which Wesley accepted and shook.
"Good fight," Wesley said. "You're pretty strong."
"You too," Spike said, wiping his lip. "Now, I've got to go get a bite."
Spike left as Wesley walked over to Illyria.
"Can I take this thing off yet?" he asked.
Illyria shook her head, but made no reply, still watching the door. Wesley took the hint, and dropped the idea for now. Spike had been leaning up against the doorframe to see if any secrets passed between them, but after a moment he went on his way.
Bethany stood ready to catch the skylight and put it back together. Willow had a cauldron centered beneath it, flames lapping at the sides and easily boiling the gallons of liquid within. Gwen stood on the far side, her power most capable of traveling any distance.
Willow chanted in a voice that no one could understand. Kennedy stood behind and to the right of her, waiting in case a power transfer should be necessary. Dawn had apparently decided not to come down.
Before long Angel and Cordelia appeared on the stairs, sheepishly smiling as they took their places behind Willow. Connor stormed in and took the spot opposite Kennedy, utterly ignoring Cordy. Willow realized it was time and threw her hands into the air.
Brilliant white light streaked from the cauldron into the clouds. For several moments there was a battle of wills, as the stormcaller and Willow each sought supremacy of the sky. But whoever it was, no matter really, they weren't prepared to go up against this witch and her allies.
Power spilled out of Willow and up to the sky. It crackled out of Gwen's eyes, drunken looking and bleached. She arced electricity over the cauldron, where it was picked up by the beam and channeled skyward. Connor and Kennedy each staggered under the drain Willow exerted.
Within the hour, the storm was no more. A quiet evening settled in outside, moonlight illuminating the damage in a way that no remnant streetlights ever could. Eventually soggy crickets picked up their rhythm.
People broke off to go do their respective things.
"Ok," Willow said. "Where's Xander? We need to go."
When the others went downstairs to see Willow cast, Xander headed back up to Dawn's room. He gently knocked on the door, waiting several minutes for a response before he decided to just head in.
She was on the bed with her headphones on, nodding in time to the music. Xander didn't know if he should wait for her to notice or startle her with a surprise tap. He decided to head back into the hall, but as he was leaving, Dawn caught him.
"Hey," she said.
"Are you going to be ok?" he asked.
"I think so," Dawn said. " It's kinda weird having Cordelia back, after what she… well, I guess it wasn't her, but whatever. I heard a lot of stuff happened."
Xander sat down on the bed beside her. "I'm going to have to leave tonight, you know."
"I know," Dawn said, sniffling a bit.
"You're still welcome to come with me," Xander said. "But I think you'd be better here."
"I am going to be ok here," Dawn said. She already liked the way Angel was engaging her already, even if he was distracted.
There was a knock on the door, and Kennedy stuck her head in. "It's time."
