See Part One for disclaimer and details. Here it is, folks, the last part of the story. It's been a fun ride, but as they say, everything that has a beginning must also have an ending. I just wanted to once again thank everyone who's reviewed and sent feedback about this fanfic, I truly am thankful for it. And now, the big finale of "Alien Nation"...
***
Part Nine: Armageddon Outta Here
Beverly Center Shopping Mall, Los Angeles, California
April 2nd, 2001
Precisely twenty-six years to the day after Drusilla had foreseen it in London, death and destruction was rampant throughout this part of suburban Los Angeles. Basically, the present had finally caught up with the future and Ethan's former costume shop was no more. Dru suddenly wept, the tears running down her face as the vampiress witnessed the explosion Xander had engineered to stop the Judge's killing spree.
( Lost, lost, lost. It's all gone away now, ) Drusilla thought sorrowfully to herself, picking herself up off the ground. Her clothing was smudged and dirty, there was broken glass everywhere and she could hear screaming throughout the mall. But she cared nothing about all that. ( Oh, my precious Spoike. The naughty kitten's gone and done away with you now, hasn't he? My poor Willy, there'll never be another like him... )
"This isn't finished yet. You know that, don't you?"
Dru whirled around in surprise to find Whistler standing behind her. Immediately, she growled and went into her demon face, but she had to back off when the balance demon held up a cross to drive her back. "YOU!! I don't like you-"
"Yeah, well, the feeling's mutual, Blood Breath," Whistler said in distaste. "But see, we got us a situation here. Even though the game's not over yet by a long shot, you've done your job – accomplished what the Powers wanted you to do. So now, you're officially what's known as a 'loose end' in their plan. And therefore the question is, what do we do where you're concerned?"
"You won't kill me," Drusilla replied vaguely, her head bobbing back and forth as her psychic antenna vibrated wildly. "It's not what you do, is it?"
"No, it's not," Whistler admitted. "At least, not unless I have to. Balance is kinda funny that way, y'know? I often have to do things I don't want to, and more often than not, I can't do the things that I want to."
"Free will," Drusilla murmured. "You don't have it, but I do." She stopped and stared into Whistler's eyes, a crazy smile beginning to grow on her lips. "And you really don't like that, do you?" Dru began to laugh wildly, and luckily for her nobody noticed as the emergency service workers finally arrived on the scene of devastation, trying to get the fires under control.
"Are you done yet?" the man in the hat demanded irritably, as the laughter finally began to die down.
"Oh no, you naughty li'l man, not yet," Drusilla shook her head as the giggles finally ceased. "Not even by 'alf, I tell you."
"Too bad. Well, you got two choices here," Whistler snapped grouchily. "One, you get lost right now – out of sight, out of mind, out of the country even. What the hell, I hear Brazil is good this time of year. In this scenario, you leave and you don't come back to this city for at least fifty years."
"And the other choice?" Dru asked swaying, even though she already knew the answer to her own question.
"Two, you stay here and get found by your 'daddy' and his friends within seventy-two hours. They're gonna be real pissed at you, and in that scenario, you end up following your boyfriend in that express elevator straight to Hell," the balance demon said simply.
Drusilla just stared at her interlocutor, trying to bore her way into his mind with her psychic powers. But that failed to work as, despite appearances, Whistler wasn't human. Finally, she looked around the mall – and repeating her own words from back in the London of 1975 Dru said, "Oh well, ta-ta for now!"
Whistler watched the female vampire depart. It never felt pleasant having to help Evil as well as Good in his role as a balance demon, but if that was the way the Powers wanted it, he wasn't going to argue with them about the matter. Besides, there was too much still left to do, and not nearly as much time as he'd like left to prepare for what was to come.
***
Caritas, Los Angeles, California
April 28th, 2001
As the Host began singing Stevie Wonder's "Superstition" up on stage, Angel glanced at Cordelia and Wesley sitting beside him at their table close to the bar. The ensouled vampire was feeling concerned about both humans, albeit for different reasons.
Ever since that night nearly a month ago when the Judge had been blown up in the mall, Wesley had been acting different. More subdued, less prone to a quick joke or witty remark to relieve the tension. Angel suspected that it was because Wesley blamed himself for what had happened, even though he shouldn't have; there was nothing the ex-Watcher could have done to have brought about a better outcome for the white hats.
The store had been demolished by the blast, and pieces of the Judge scattered in all directions. There hadn't been time for Angel Investigations to collect them, at least not all of them, before the police and emergency crews had arrived onto the scene. Angel had had to do some creative requisitioning from the LAPD's evidence room later on, before Wes had arranged for the Judge's body parts to once again be scattered throughout the world. Oddly, the former Angelus had just felt a minor pang after seeing the remains of his grandchilde consigned to such a final resting place within the police precinct.
Because he'd been far more worried about Cordelia at that point.
There had been no sign of Xander at all after the dust had settled, so to speak, but Angel knew there was no way the guy could have made it out of the shop in time before setting off the explosives. The vampire didn't know how or why the human's remains had vanished without a trace, but that didn't matter. What did matter was that his belief that Xander Harris was dead was not shared by Miss Chase in any way, shape or form.
Almost instantly after screaming Xander's name that night, Cordy had inexplicably calmed down. She'd later explained to Wesley and Angel that Harris was still alive, that she could still feel his presence through their bond or something. Angel hadn't really gotten that bit, to be honest, but he nonetheless knew that his seer firmly believed Xander wasn't dead.
To Angel, though, it was pure and simple denial. The vampire had hoped that after giving her enough time to deal, Cordelia would come to accept Xander's heroic death, grieve his loss and move on. But that didn't look like it was going to happen anytime soon. So he was going to have to force the matter, for her own good.
"Angel, why are you looking at me like that?" Cordelia's annoyed voice intruded into Angel's consciousness, forcing the vampire to focus his attention outwards. "You've been staring at me for like a whole minute, it's starting to majorly creep me out. You've got something to say, could you just say it already?"
Angel glanced at Wesley, who took the hint and excused himself to take a leak in the bathroom. The vampire then said hesitantly, "Look, Cordelia. I was hoping we could talk-"
"You want me to accept that Xander's dead, even though he isn't. Well, screw that!" Cordelia said scornfully, her old tactless and blunt ways briefly reasserting themselves.
"Cordelia," Angel would have sighed if he'd been human. "I know you think Xander's still alive, I know how you've consulted the Furies and God only knows how many others over the past month or so about this. But there's nothing to be found! You've seen it for yourself, no scrying spell could locate him and no one could pinpoint his location anywhere on Earth. You've got to accept it, the man's gone and he isn't coming back!"
"You're partly right," Cordelia admitted frostily. "Xander's gone, at least for now. And it may take me the rest of my life to find him – but he's still alive, Angel. If Xander was dead, I'd know it, I'd FEEL it. Didn't you once tell me that Buffy Summers could always feel it whenever you were near? Well, if that's the case why is it so impossible for you to believe that Xander and I could do the same thing?"
"That's different," Angel tried to restrain his exasperation. "She's a Slayer, and I'm a vampire-"
"And Xander and I were bonded together during pon farr," Cordelia interrupted rudely. "You obviously have no idea what that means, Mr. Scowling Broody Pants, so please don't even try to pretend that you do. Look, all you need to know is that Xander's the other half of my heart, my soul and my mind. Only death can destroy that bond, and so I know that wherever he is right now – Xander can still feel me the same way I can still feel him." Her eyes suddenly glittered dangerously. "And that's ALL I intend to say to you about the subject."
Angel shook his head as Wesley rejoined his colleagues at the table. "Have I missed anything?" the British man asked politely.
Right on cue, as Lorne sang the best lyrics of the song and started dancing to his own music, a shimmering in the air appeared behind him. The shimmering quickly condensed in a swirly blue-coloured portal as the Host finally got a clue and turned around. And then to Cordelia's unrestrained joy – Xander came flying out of the portal and crash-landed onto the tables closest to the stage.
"What took you so long?" Miss Chase whispered to herself, before getting up to welcome her boyfriend home with a long, smouldering and passionate kiss.
***
Public library, Los Angeles, California
A few moments earlier
Winifred 'Fred' Burkle, former physics student and former runaway slave, came flying out of her own portal and crashed to the ground, just as gracelessly as Xander had done not far away in Caritas. Moaning, the human female dressed in dirty rags shook her head as she tried to focus, not yet able to look at her surroundings.
The brunette woman had suffered a great deal living in a demon dimension called Pylea for the last five years. Back in 1996, barely a few months before Buffy had been Called as the Slayer, she had been sucked through an interdimensional portal as part of Jasmine's long-term plan to manifest herself on the human plane. But with that rogue former Power having been permanently neutralized, Fred's return to Earth was the last bit of unfinished business engineered by the Powers to restore the original balance Jasmine had disrupted.
Fred slowly began to focus, her scatterbrained yet brilliant mind took in her surroundings and began to recognize the library where she used to work at. ( Oh my God! I did it! I did it, I did it, I did it! I got us home! ) she thought ecstatically. Then Fred frowned as she looked around, ( Wait a minute, where's Xander? )
It was a good question, and one that would be answered soon enough. Fred had met Xander in Pylea not long after that night with the Judge; the night where, just as Harris had pushed the button to detonate the explosives, a portal had appeared and saved his life by transporting him into that demon dimension. This was thanks to Whistler's actions, even if no one but the Powers would ever know that.
( Well, Xander musta done it. I mean, the Judge had to have been destroyed, because hello, it looks like the world's still here. Although, how can I be certain of that? Up until recently, I thought my life here was just a dream. Plus bad things always seem to happen to me, ) Miss Burkle thought with a sudden shiver. ( Bad things. Bad things. Lots of bad things! I mean, gosh, how am I supposed to handle the pressure?! )
"Fred?" a female voice distracted the semi-hysterical refugee, who had arrived from a world where humans were considered cattle and slaves. Well, until Xander had helped engineer a bloody revolution during the last month or so and Fred had gotten the books needed for them to come home. "Fred, is that you?"
The young woman turned to face someone who looked vaguely familiar. She squinted and put on her glasses, trying to make out who the newcomer was exactly. Then Fred remembered; this was the librarian she had worked with five years ago. "Myrtle?"
The librarian looked shocked, and then as she came closer the happiness shone through on her face like the sun breaking through the clouds. "Fred, oh my God, you're back! I can't believe this, where have you been? You just appeared out of nowhere, you..." Myrtle stopped, staring at Fred's clothing. "What are you wearing? Oh my God, did you just escape out of Hannibal Lecter's basement or something?"
"Who?" Fred looked confused, before she dismissed that. Recalling all the details regarding what Xander had told her over the past month or so, Fred asked her former co-worker, "Myrtle, could you possibly take me to the Hyperion Hotel, or-or an apartment over in Silverlake? Because I, I, I've got a special someone to touch base with before I go home to Texas!"
***
The Hyperion Hotel, Los Angeles, California
May 7th, 2001
"It's incredible," Wesley said, shaking his head. Despite how many times he had seen Xander do this lately, it never ceased to amaze him. "So, have you come up with any new theories on why you can't assume any non-biological shapes?"
Xander, looking like an exact copy of Wesley, morphed back into his own body after momentarily going through a changeling's normal liquid state. "Nope, sorry," the young man shrugged. "Guess we just gotta go with the obvious. Basically, I'm still human even though I somehow got some of Odo's powers back, which means I need to maintain an organic body – or I'll die. And since there's no such thing as subspace in real life, that means I can't morph into something the size of, say, a fly or whatever. No subspace pocket to store my excess mass."
"Yes, that is a pity. Still, maybe that's also a blessing in disguise," the Englishman said thoughtfully. "Because history is full of men who were motivated solely by benevolence in the beginning, and yet were corrupted by power and ended up the worst kind of tyrants and dictators. Nebuchadnezzar, Philip of Macedon, Julius Caesar, Adolf Hitler – the list is endless. Perhaps it's better that you can't assume the full powers of a changeling, Xander, lest one day you start desiring to be worshipped as a god."
"Trust me. Never gonna happen," Cordelia said as she strode into the hotel lobby along with Lorne and Angel. "I would SO kick his ass the first time such a thought ever even crossed his mind!"
"And ain't that the truth," Xander smirked at his soul mate, before they started smooching intensely.
"Get a room," Angel muttered under his breath after seeing the duo make out like that.
"I think since Alex-cake just moved outta here, that'd be sorta counter-productive where your privacy's concerned," Lorne reminded the boss of the agency with a smirk.
Angel shrugged, that was true enough. Xander finally moving in with Cordelia was a good thing, both in terms of their relationship and finally having the hotel all to himself again. "So, Wes, anything happening around here tonight? That Haklar demon over in Redondo has been taken care of-"
At that moment, the Transuding Furies appeared in a burst of light within the hotel. And unlike their traditional calm and collected appearance, the three sisters looked terrified and desperate.
"WE MUST HURRY!" the female trio shouted in unison, as Xander and Cordelia stopped kissing and turned to stare at the newcomers. The time had finally come to collect on the Furies' payment for saving Cordelia's life during Halloween last year. "THE END OF THE WORLD IS NIGH!"
The Fang Gang had no time to process that before the sisters grabbed Xander, Cordelia and Angel and vanished in a burst of light. Lorne just stood there in shocked surprise within the empty lobby and said, "Where'd everybody go?"
***
Summers residence, Cleveland, Ohio
A moment later
It was a scene of bloody carnage that was only surpassed by what the Judge had gotten up to in Los Angeles, about a month ago.
As the LA crowd materialized out of thin air, their nostrils were immediately assaulted by the thick, coppery scent of blood. Angel in particular could smell all the delicious, intoxicating flavours of the various sources of blood all around him, and had to suppress the animalistic glee and hunger of his inner Angelus. Then he saw Buffy Summers and if his heart had been beating, most likely it would have stopped dead at the sight of his blonde beloved.
Angel had seen her beaten and broken before, but this – this was beyond anything he had ever seen the Slayer take. "Buffy? Buffy, can you hear me?"
"Yeah," Buffy slurred vaguely. "Angel?"
"Yes, it's me-"
"My mom?" Buffy croaked out, the worry evident in her voice.
Unfortunately, Angel could see the lifeless corpse of Joyce Summers not far away. "I don't know, I-I'll go look..."
"No, Angel, Dawn. Glory – she came after us, somehow she learned Dawn was the Key..." the Chosen One seemed determined to speak despite the agony she was in. "You gotta find her. Save her. Please, you're the only one – only one – promise me..."
"I promise – BUFFY?" Angel shouted as the Slayer passed out.
"Angel, we need to get everyone here to a hospital!" Wesley called out, as he and Xander and Cordelia examined the casualties. The Furies were doing the same thing – to their sorrow, both Amy and Tara were now beyond any possible help, just like Whistler had been informed would happen in that conversation with the Powers all those months ago.
Only Willow remained alive. And even she was barely clinging to life after Glory's assault within Joyce's home, as the others tried to help her.
"Bloody hell." Everyone looked around at Rupert Giles, surprised to hear another British accent, as the man picked himself up off the floor. "Alright, who are you lot?" he asked, the only one still relatively intact after the hellgod's actions.
"The Seventh Cavalry, I guess," Xander shrugged, even as the rest started to get Buffy and Willow prepared for their trip to the emergency room. "Who are you?"
"Ripper Giles. Indentured servant to the Chosen One," Giles had a look of distaste on his bruised and battered face. "Cor blimey, but that hell-bitch packs a bloody mean wallop. Tore through everyone 'ere like they were – ah, hell, Joyce." 'Ripper' had a look of regret on his face for a moment as he spied the dead woman's body. She had been one of the few females he had ever respected in his life, apart from his grandmother, despite the short time he had actually known her.
"Who's this guy?" Cordelia gestured to a male corpse wearing armour and an archaic uniform, as well as a tattoo on his forehead.
"Ah, that would be the dearly departed General Gregor, the last of the Knights of Byzantium," Giles replied. "Thick as a post, but a good source of intel concerning the Key."
"The Key? You mean Dawn Summers," Wesley said, as he came over to Xander and Angel. "You're Rupert Giles, aren't you?"
"Do I know you?" the older man sent him a cursory glance.
"No, but I know you. Sunnydale, during in the 1980's," Wes said simply. "I wish I could say it's a pleasure to eventually make your acquaintance, but then since I'm familiar with everything you've done for nearly thirty years..."
"Not now," Angel barked out, even as the Furies disappeared with Willow and Buffy in a flash of light. "All right, Mr. Giles. Talk to me, what's the situation?"
"We gotta find out where Glory's gonna be doing her big going-home ceremony. Once we do that, we gotta kill the Slayer's sister," Giles replied emotionlessly.
"Never gonna happen," Angel went into his most threatening game face. "We're rescuing Dawn, not murdering her. Understand?"
"I don't think YOU understand, mate," Giles pulled out a cigarette and lit it, unfazed by Angel's vampiric features. "If Glory does her effing ritual 'n activates the Key, the walls separating all the different realities out there come tumbling down and we got Hell on Earth to deal with. Literally. All those millions of demon dimensions mixing with this one, it's goodbye, Piccadilly. Farewell, Leicester bloody Square. You get what I'm saying? One life for billions, you do the math!"
"So we don't let it come to that," Cordelia spoke up. She could vaguely remember Dawn from the ancient days when the Summers family had lived in the City of Angels, thanks to the monks' spell. That was why she didn't want her one-time protégé to die anytime soon. "Why can't we just swoop in to the rescue the way we always do?"
"One, time isn't exactly on our side – according to Gregor, that ritual's taking place tonight. What's more, I don't have a buggering clue where it'll be. And two, Glory's a bloody GOD!" Giles shouted the last word. "Look how far we got trying to stop her, or even hurt her. So if you people have got anything that can take on a deity, I'd be damn glad to hear what it is!!"
Xander shared a look with Wesley, their recent conversation in the Hyperion immediately springing to mind. "I'll do it. So, did you happen to see which way she left?"
***
Glory's townhouse, Cleveland, Ohio
May 8th, 2001
Not long after the midnight hour, Dawn Summers watched the scene of near-bedlam before her with ever-increasing terror.
Earlier on, she had been abducted from her house by the deranged hellgod after Glory had killed just about everyone that had been in her way. Dawn had been brought here to the enemy stronghold, and told she was going to be bled to death in order to activate the portal that would take Glorificus home – and destroy the multiverse at the same time. Miss Summers had been poked, prodded, locked up, felt up, and then bound and gagged in order to restrain her.
The fourteen-year-old girl had just wanted the nightmare to end, and go home. But then Glory had started acting – irrationally. Well, more irrationally than she normally did anyway; the hellgod had started displaying alarming glimpses of humanity, such as guilt and mercy and hurt feelings.
"The cloak between me and Ben is fading! I almost helped this little brat escape just now. I actually wanted to do it! I can't take this any longer..." She grabbed hold of Jinx. "Get him out of me! I – no, no, no! He's coming! Hold me down, all of you! Don't let Ben go!"
The demon worshippers all obeyed her orders as Jinx, Murk, Dreg and two others named Gronx and Slook restrained the male human as he reclaimed his body. "Lemme go! You can't kill her. I won't let you kill an innocent!" Ben shouted.
He morphed back into Glory. "You can't stop me, you stupid human meat-sack!" She turned to Doc, "You! Do your mojo, make an incision, or removal, or whatever you've gotta do. Just get him out of me! I'm, I'm thinking Ben's thoughts, and – and I'm feeling his feelings!"
"Forgive me your Worship, but you've undertaken terrible magicks in preparing to open that portal. Nothing comes without a price, and this – is yours," the demon who looked like a meek and inoffensive old man said to her regretfully.
"Gods don't PAY!" Glory screamed. Then she turned into Ben again.
The doctor suddenly looked like he was gonna throw up. "Oh, God, I remember, I can feel it! I can smell it, all that blood. Glory, she-she killed – she slaughtered hundreds of them, the monks, the Knights, I-I think I'm gonna be sick..."
The demon worshippers looked disgusted as the smelly vomit erupted from the man's mouth after he turned his face to the side. But still, they didn't disobey orders and let Ben go. "Fetch the doctor's drugs. Inject him with a sedative!" Doc commanded, having gotten an idea.
"But what will that do to the almighty Glorificus?" Dreg demanded.
"She is a god; she cannot be hurt or killed. Hurry!" Jinx ordered him.
"NO!!" Ben screamed. "No, no, no!" He struggled wildly, but to no avail. Dawn watched in horrified sympathy, the cloaking magic having faded away so much that she could now remember how Ben was Glory and Glory was Ben. She winced as Murk drugged the former intern right up to the gills, which allowed Glory to take over after Ben was rendered unconscious.
"At last! Well done," the hellgod praised her worshippers. Then effortlessly breaking free of the grip of her minions, Glory got up and started pacing around. "Okay, all of you get your asses in gear. We're heading for the site of the ritual right now!"
***
Outside an abandoned warehouse, Cleveland, Ohio
A few hours later
The time for the final battle had come.
Glory could feel it. She had been waiting for an eternity – well, twenty-five years anyway – and it had all come down to this. Soon, soon it would be dawn and she would go home to the hell she'd come from, where she was going to rain down super-sized portions of slaughter, mayhem and bloodshed upon her enemies. But first, she was going to have to deal with the pathetic insects that were going to try to stop her from using her Key to rip apart the fabric separating all the countless realities out there.
The hellgod looked around at her collection of brain-suck victims, who had all converged into the area thanks to her summons. This was where Spike and Drusilla and Vamp Jenny had once lived, and now the army of crazy people had built a tower outside the warehouse for Dawn to be bled as slowly as possible, upon a certain point at a certain time. The young girl was already up on top of the tower, secured tightly; the Key could do nothing but pray that her big sister would show up in the nick of time and save her, the way she always did.
( Let 'em come, ) Glory thought smugly. ( There's nothing they can do to stop me now! It's almost time. Almost time – no, you pathetic worm! ) the demonic god tried to suppress Ben, who was beginning to rouse himself from the drugs. ( You can't stop me either! Once I go home, you cease to exist! Just a little while longer! )
"Well, look at you! Talk about a hopeless skanky fashion victim." Glory looked up to see a brunette woman standing there and then Cordelia Chase added, "Where'd you get that dress? The Salvation Army?"
"That's it – you're dead!!" Glory advanced on her, then suddenly stopped and started wobbling. As if she was feeling weak.
Cordelia, having led her people here after a last-minute vision from the Powers, had a big smile on her face. She yelled, "Hey, you killer bitch! Catch!!"
The seer pulled the Dagon sphere out of her pocket; a device Buffy had acquired from the last monk of the Order of Dagon designed to repel the hellgod, and threw it at Glory. She instinctively caught it, and the initial shock from the artefact incapacitated the hellgod for a brief moment.
The mad blonde screamed in pain, as she dropped the Dagon sphere. She never noticed Cordelia running for it as Giles and Wesley stepped up to bat, being too busy crushing the glowing orb underneath her feet.
"Kali, Hera, Kronos, Janus...air like nectar, thick as onyx..." Giles chanted, his eyes completely black once more.
"Cassiel by your second star, hold my victim as in tar!" Wesley shouted, as Glory suddenly found herself unable to move.
"I. OWE. YOU. PAIN!!" 'Ripper' yelled, as blue-white lightning shot out of his hands and then Wesley hit Glory as well, with a fireball that had formed in his palm.
Glory didn't know what was going on, how things could have degenerated so quickly like this. Her body felt like it had been mortally wounded, and she was busy fighting off an assault from within as well as without. ( Stop fighting me, you IDIOT! Don't you get it, Benjy? I'm the only thing standing between you and death right now! )
Finally the assault ended, and Angel stepped forward with Vocah's scythe (a gift to Buffy from almost a year ago) to cleave Glory's head from her shoulders. But despite how weakened she was, Glory was nonetheless still a god, and so that didn't work. The weapon simply bounced off her neck, putting Angel off-balance.
"I need a brain to eat. You'll do!" Glory shouted. Due to her being somewhat confused and disoriented, she had failed to notice that Angel was a vampire; she could smell the soul and in the heat of the moment assumed that he was human. Thus Glory buried her fingers into Angel's head with a flash of light, and tried to drain what she needed from him.
Unfortunately for her, that meant that one of the laws of thermodynamics came into play. If a closed system is not at equilibrium, heat and energy flow from the fuller container to the lesser one until a balance is achieved. That was why Glory's victims were always human; they had more mental energy than she did, and could give her what she needed.
But a vampire isn't human, and so, to her shock and horror, Glory felt her energy drain even further as a screaming Angel absorbed what she had to offer – instead of the other way around. The inner vampire demon was instantly killed by the god's hellish energies, Angelus shrieking and disappearing into oblivion; but strangely, Angel's human physiology was restored by the regenerative material stolen from Glory's victims. Against all odds, he was suddenly mortal now.
The shanshu prophecy had been fulfilled.
Screaming like a banshee, Glory hurled Angel away from her after withdrawing her fingers out of his head. Wesley and Giles were the next to follow. The minions all finally clustered around their deity, "Oh, most sweaty-naughty-feelings-causing one, should we-" one of them started to say.
"Go guard the girl. This is a, this is a, a-" Glory tried to spit out, her mind not exactly working at full power any longer.
"Diversionary tactic?" her minion asked.
"Go! Guard!" the hellgod yelled, delving into reserves of strength she didn't know she had. "You know, you try and try but a god's work is never done..."
"Funny thing though, how even gods can be killed," a male voice, this one belonging to Xander Harris, caught Glory's attention. "So I'd tell you to say your prayers, but who are you going to pray to – yourself?"
This time, Glory knew her intended victim was a human. Snarling, she came forward to brain-suck him completely. But to her disbelief, the human melted into an orange gelatinous liquid right in front of her eyes.
And then the liquid shot forward and rammed itself up her nose, blasting its way into her body via her nostrils and violating her innermost self. In the short time he had available, Xander discovered Ben's presence, and learned all of Glory's secrets. The hellgod screeched in fury, expelling the sentient fluid from her physical form. But it was too late, the damage had already been done.
"So that was your plan, huh?" Xander asked, as he resumed his own body. "Sorry, but I'm afraid I'm going to have to remove the miracle ingredient tied up there right the hell now."
"NO!!" Glory hollered, as Xander morphed into a Baneriam hawk – a bird of prey with exceptional eyesight, which Odo had once encountered – and immediately flew up towards the top of the tower, beyond her reach. "No, no, NO!!" There was no time to do anything about it though, as Glory found herself under magical attack once more; this time by the Transuding Furies.
"No! Stay away from me!" Dawn screamed at the top of the tower, as Doc approached her with a big scary knife.
"Sorry, kid. But her Splendidness is running a bit late, you see, so if she can't be here in time to bleed you..." Doc ignored the Key's hysterical screams and moved towards Dawn to begin the bloodletting ritual, and destroy the world.
"Shallow cuh – aaaaaggghhh!" the hellgod worshipper cried out in pain before he could slice open Dawn's stomach. He looked down to see an orange liquid wrapping itself around his crotch and waist, the gelatinous fluid squeezing and then yanking him backwards, away from the Key.
"WHO DARES-!" Doc screamed, bringing the knife down to bear. But it was pointless trying to stab a liquid; the fluid just formed a hole around the weapon as Doc inadvertently stabbed himself, before it let him go and then assumed human form.
"Have a nice trip," Xander said sarcastically, before he pushed the howling, swearing, human-looking demon off the tower.
As Xander released Dawn and started to escort her to safety, down below the Furies were keeping the under-strength Glory busy, and both Wesley and Giles were finishing off the last of her minions. The world was safe, but the white hats were still in the fight of their lives.
All the magic users finally combined their powers, and hit the hellgod with everything they had. Even Glory's strength had its limits; and so exhausted, battered and worn out, Ben finally came to the surface once more.
"So, Dr. Maxwell," Giles said, recognizing the man Buffy had dated a few times at her workplace. "It was you all along, was it? I should have guessed." The Englishman was referring to Gregor's assertions about the unknown male host Glory inhabited.
"Please – help me," Ben begged pathetically as he lay flat on his back.
"We can't help you. No one can. They never could; I mean, this is what you were born for," Wesley told him sadly.
"Then – kill me," the doctor croaked out, having finally realized death was the only way of escaping the torture his life had become.
Wesley and Giles stared at one another. "The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few, or the one," 'Ripper' quoted from the TV show he had once enjoyed watching when he'd been younger.
"Indeed," Wesley agreed, having learned some Star Trek knowledge himself from his co-workers. He suddenly reached down and put his hand over Ben's nose and mouth, holding them shut. Ben struggled weakly as Giles kept him still, surprised that his compatriot was able to do this so easily. Soon enough, Ben went limp and cold.
"It had to be done. Otherwise Glory would have eventually re-emerged and made the world pay for such a misplaced act of mercy," Giles said, looking at Angel – who was staring at him and Wesley with a strange expression on his face. "Right, well, I guess that's it then. Tell your father that I'm gone, Pryce; and that a deal's a deal, I don't expect to hear from him and his Council ever again."
As Giles left, Cordelia finally came up to join the victorious heroes. "Where's Xander?" she asked, looking worried.
"Right here," Harris came onto the scene, his arm around Dawn's shoulders.
"Dawn!!" Angel shouted, instantly grabbing her into a tight embrace as Xander and Cordelia kissed briefly. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I – Angel? You're warm. As in human warm!" Dawn exclaimed with wide eyes. Of all the surprises she'd had over the last twelve hours, this was the most pleasant one by far.
"Yeah, I got a heartbeat now and everything. Not too sure how that happened, exactly," the former vampire admitted, seeing everyone's looks. "Come on, Dawnie, let's take you to the hospital and find Willow and Buffy. I'm sure they'll be really glad to see you."
***
Just outside the former Sunnydale town limits, southern California
May 16th, 2001
The mission had been accomplished, the game was over and now all the players were moving on.
Angel had decided to stay in Cleveland with Buffy and Dawn. With Joyce dead and himself human, the Summers women needed him now a lot more than the citizens of Los Angeles did. The Furies had gone back to LA after making sure that Willow was going to be alright, and so had Wesley; once there though, he had started to look for a new job as Angel Investigations had officially closed for business.
Lorne had resumed work at Caritas, Whistler had been given a new assignment by the Powers, and Lilah Morgan had disappeared. The Senior Partners had abandoned the Los Angeles branch of the firm, after learning what had happened with Angel and receiving a rather nasty warning from the PTBs.
Skip, who had almost forgotten that Jasmine had ever existed, was living the life of a retired mercenary. Kendra and Faith, on the other hand, were still living the relatively simple life of potential Slayers, waiting to be Called. Giles had left the country, and was currently a 'gentleman of leisure'.
In Texas, Fred had been introduced to a number of shrinks by her parents. Drusilla was enjoying herself with a Chaos demon in South America. Quentin Travers was still a poodle, despite the best efforts of the Council's mages to undo Willow's handiwork, and Roger Wyndham-Pryce had been temporarily promoted in his place. And as for Xander and Cordelia...
"So this is where it all began for us, huh?" the seer asked her beloved, as Miss Chase looked down at the remains of the place where she'd been born. "I wasn't expecting to see a lake here, though."
It was true; after the Furies had done what Robson had asked of them, the giant crater swallowing Sunnydale had stopped just short of reaching the coastline, leaving a thin strip of land to dam off the ocean. But over the last fourteen years, a combination of rain and salt water that had entered through the porous bedrock had formed California's newest lake.
"Neither was I," Xander replied to his girlfriend's comment. "Not too surprising though, if you think about it. According to Lorne, a lot of vampires used to live here. Sunnydale used to have a whole multitude of underground tunnels and caves, which is probably how the ocean came in and buried the place a few years later."
"You ever wonder what our lives would have been like if that had never happened, if we'd been raised here instead of the big city?" Cordelia suddenly asked.
"No. Well, at least not anymore."
"Huh? Why not?" Miss Chase looked confused.
"Because Lorne once told me that for some reason he couldn't understand, my destiny went majorly off-track by moving to LA when I was six. That means if Sunnydale had never been destroyed, I'd be living here," Xander gestured to the lake. "And THAT means we wouldn't be together right now. Because I figure odds are you would have ended up going to LA after that thing with the IRS, what with your acting ambitions after high school. Hell, I probably would have never even known you, Cor. So no, despite how crappy my childhood was, I don't think about what things would be like if the California Hellmouth still existed."
Cordelia felt a fiery warmth in her stomach after hearing that. Then Xander got down on one knee and said, "What I prefer to think about is whether or not you'll consent to be my wife." He brought out a HUGE diamond ring and presented it to her. "Cordelia Chase, will you marry me?"
The young woman was stunned, completely flabbergasted. Not even the recent news from Whistler that she was no longer Angel's vision girl, that there would be no more visions coming her way ever again, had hit her so unexpectedly. She stammered, "Xander, wh-where did you get that? Because I know for a fact you can't afford something like this!"
"What can I say, honey? I decided to look for Glory's lair after all the excitement was over and I found all sorts of interesting knick-knacks there. This was one of them," Xander grinned at her, obviously not having lost all of his teenage street habits.
"You..." Cordelia started to say, before deciding against it and putting on her engagement ring. "Oh, wow. It's like a perfect fit!"
"So is that a yes?" Xander asked regarding his proposal.
"YES, you big dorkhead!" Cordelia admired the huge rock on her finger for another moment before giving her fiancé an equally huge kiss, and then engaging an intense mind meld to prove to Harris how she really felt right now.
When all of a sudden there was a flash of light and a haughty male voice said, "Now THIS is just too interesting to ignore."
Xander and Cordelia broke off, and the young man's eyes went wide. "What the-? No, it's not possible. You can't be him! He's just a made-up character on TV!"
The being who looked like Q from Star Trek simply sniggered in amusement. "How do you know that, mon ami? The multiverse is ever-growing; what's real in one universe can be mere fantasy in another, and vice versa. Thing is, I was passing by this dimensional neck of the woods and saw you two going at it, so I just had to stop and say 'hi'. Oh, and I have some friends you just HAVE to meet..."
He snapped his fingers and all three vanished in another burst of white light, leaving this part of the nation alone and deserted for the time being.
The latest journey of a human changeling and a human Vulcan had only just begun.
THE END
