Title: Outside Humanity
Author: Drake Roberts
Rating: Mature, I guess. There's nothing too bad thus far, but I'd rather err on the side of caution.
A/N: I've had half of this chapter written for about a year and a half. Finally I had time for inspiration to strike. This story's not dead, I'm just horrible about updating. I really am going to try to keep up the updates. Also, I wanted to have more happen in this chapter (because I want to get to the good part), but decided to cut it off here. Let me know what you think and I'll try to keep on task a little better.
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The town of Sunnydale did not cater to the early-riser. Early mornings meant shadowed alleys. The business patrons of the town quickly learned that a trip to the dumpster was best done after noon or before the sun dipped below the level of the surrounding buildings. Therefore, the Main Street stores, including The Magic Box, opened at eleven. City Hall and the public library both had floor to ceiling south facing windows and opened at ten. The coffee and doughnut shops of Sunnydale opened promptly at eight. The morning manager at Starbucks was a cheerful fellow prone to pranks. Any early bird customers got shot with a water pistol. The occasional dark clad patron became quite put out by it.
Tara herself was an avid early riser before she moved to Sunnydale. One of the few pleasures in her life at that time was greeting the new day as it was born. However, months of late night patrolling and research sessions, not to mention her own course load of classes had forced her to curb the frequency of her morning ritual. After a while she just couldn't stand being sleep deprived.
But this morning she was up just after sunrise sitting in the kitchen and nursing a cup of coffee. Truth be told Tara wished that she was still upstairs sleeping, but her thoughts wouldn't calm themselves long enough to get more than a few hours of sleep. Mrs. Summers was due to return before midmorning which was enough to cause a little anxiety. And Tara was also more than a little excited about seeing Willow when she returned with Anya from L.A. Any of these things could have driven her out of bed early. However her need for early morning introspection actually stemmed from something else.
Her girlfriend, Willow's, magic was very aggressive and mostly physical. Tara rationalized that part of the reason for this was because Willow grew up on the Hellmouth. Tara didn't have nearly that level of brute strength. In fact, she didn't want it. However, after months of working with the redhead Tara now knew that she was much more aware of the ebb and flow of magic around her. While Willow drew on magic and felt the power it gave her, Tara had an intuitive sense about the world around her. The aftermath of some of Willow's magic experiments clearly showed that her girlfriend did not share this ability. Or she did, but didn't care, a thought that was much more foreboding. When something was out of balance, Tara could feel it. That ability had led her to one of the most confusing things about the whole situation with Xander. Tara hadn't gotten any unnatural feelings when Xander had arrived with Spike the other night. She couldn't detect anything wrong with him even now. If the young witch didn't know for a fact that Xander was supposed to be nineteen years old, she would never guess there was anything wrong. The lack of imbalance confused her, especially after last night.
Flashback to the night before. . .
Giles and Cordelia arrived back at the Summers' house soon enough after Spike and Angel's return that Xander and Dawn offered them some of their candy bar. Giles politely refused, but Cordy ended up snagging a piece from the Devious Duo and a chunk of Almond Joy from Tara.
After assuring himself that Cordelia was still in one piece and willing to stay with the Sunnydale gang, such as it was, for the remainder of the night, Angel left. He planned on questioning the clientele at Willie's, and if that didn't work patrolling the town's cemeteries. Anything to get him away from Spike and the others at the Summers' household.
The souled vampire just did not feel comfortable being in the same room as them. Watching them interact reminded him that the Hellmouth wasn't his domain any longer. A part of him loathed the fact that Spike, of all people, might have a claim on the territory now. So after telling Cordelia to call if she needed anything and saying a polite if brief goodbye to Tara, Dawn, and Giles, Angel left to do what he could on the street.
Tara for one wasn't sad about him going. The souled vampire's dual nature felt prickly to her senses, unnatural. Once Angel left Spike visibly relaxed which put both Xander and Dawn more at ease. The two now sat at the coffee table, Legos stacked in front of them.
Tara watched as Xander methodically built his tower higher and Dawn alternated between building and talking with Jude, who was sitting on the couch behind her. Tara had made the young healer stay after seeing how wane she looked when she showed up to check on Spike and Xander's condition. When Spike had seen the girl he had rebuked her in a far less gruff tone than normal saying she should be more concerned about her own condition than those she 'd worked her mojo on. Jude had put up a mild protest, but the argument was abruptly halted by Giles' interjection of, "You are staying; sit down." accompanied by The Look. The two had met gazes and enacted a silent argument for several seconds before Jude broke eye contact with a frown and settled down on the couch.
When Tara looked at the older man curiously Giles shrugged. "I promised her grandmother that I would keep a close eye on her after taking her home in such a horrid state the other night."
Tara's questioning gaze focused back on Jude. At the renewed attention Jude's demeanor switched from sheepish to defiant despite her obvious exhaustion.
"It needed to be done or I wouldn't have been able to do it," she stated. She watched Xander tossing a pillow back and forth with Spike and smiled. "I'm glad I was able to do it."
Tara sighed but nodded in acceptance. She couldn't put too much blame on Jude for doing something she would have done if she had the ability. "You're still staying here until someone can take you home later. And I'm going to make you a sandwich which you will eat."
"Yes, mother," Jude quipped with a grin.
Needless to say, after sleeping for two days straight Jude's sandwich disappeared very quickly. But the apparent energy drain of healing could only be pushed aside for so long. By this point Jude's conversation with Dawn was the only thing keeping her awake. Tara figured that the next time Dawn got caught up in the movie she'd turn back around and find her new friend asleep.
While Tara mentally starting figuring out the logistics of where everyone would sleep with the now likely addition of a healer to the overnight occupancy, Xander grabbed her hand and led her over to the Legos. Tara happily obliged the boy's desire to play. Playing Legos was routine enough that she could ponder and build at the same time. Xander seemingly noticed that the young witch was occupied and contented himself with continuing his building from his position beside her. Apparently he wanted Tara's proximity more than her participation with his project.
In the background Spaceballs played on. While Tara played Legos, Spike and Dawn began an animated discussion on Good Schwartz versus Bad Schwartz. Dawn maintained that Good Schwartz was stronger. Spike argued that Bad Schwartz was superior by far; Dark Helmut was just a talent less putz. Jude seemed content to lay her chin atop her folded arms on the arm of the couch and listen to the byplay. Cordelia's attention alternated between the movie, the book on age regression in her lap, and filing her nails. Anyone who said Cordelia Chase couldn't multitask was a bold faced liar.
Giles had retreated to the kitchen to research after the third time Spike referred to the former Watcher as President Skroog. Giles had claimed that he needed a quieter environment to translate the subtle nuances of the medieval Latin, but Tara secretly thought that Giles had decided to vacate the living room to avoid throwing Legos in retaliation to Spike's teasing. Such an action would hardly maintain his stuffy librarian image.
It was such a domestic scene and Tara was loving every minute of it. Since she had moved to Sunnydale the young witch had started college, fought monsters, and even fallen in love. But this was the first time since her mother had died that she felt a sense of family. Since she'd started helping the Scooby Gang, Tara had watched Willow, Buffy, Xander, and Giles interact with each other. The four weren't related by blood, but they were family. After her mother had died Tara had gotten used to being near her family constantly. In the end, her family's intolerance and superstition had forced her to leave at the earliest opportunity, but even the absence of a bad family made her lonely. She had gotten used to being a caregiver back home. It was nice to have that feeling back.
Tara was pulled from her thoughts by the sound of Legos crashing onto the coffee table. She looked to her right, prepared to joke with Xander about destroying his city. But the words stuck in her throat at the look on the boy's face. His expression was a mask of fear and concern focused intently at a totally oblivious Cordelia. Tara frowned as she too focused her attention on the brunette woman. Cordelia was concentrating on the book in front of her and wasn't looking the least bit threatened. So, what had frightened the boy?
Xander stared at Cordelia for a few more seconds and his eyes widened. "CeeCee?" the boy spoke cautiously.
Cordelia looked up from her book at his anxious question and noticed Xander's intense expression. Her face immediately clouded with worry. "Xan? What is it?"
If Tara hadn't been actively searching for a threat she never would have felt the whisper of magical energy tickle the back of her neck. It was the only warning Tara got before Cordelia clutched her head with one hand and started shrieking in agony.
"CeeCee!" Xander exclaimed in alarm.
The boy started to run to Cordelia's aid, but was grabbed by Tara before he could get past her.
"Tara, we have to do something!" Xander sobbed as he struggled against her hold.
One of Cordelia's arms flung out and knocked a lamp from the table beside the chair she occupied. Tara flinched at the movement and bit her lip in worry. Giles, meanwhile had rushed into the living room at Cordelia's first shriek. Tara looked at the older man helplessly as she continued to hold Xander back.
"It's a vision," Giles stated, his face pale. "Though I had no clue the effects were so violent."
Xander's struggles had settled considerably. The boy was now alternating between trying to pull out of Tara's arms and leaning into her for comfort.
"It's hurting her," he whimpered.
Tara didn't say anything, just hugged the boy tighter, her heart breaking just a little more with each hitched breath she felt him take.
"Don't worry, Xan. It'll be over soon," she said as much to reassure herself as the little boy in her lap.
Tara's prediction proved correct as only moments later the pain left Cordelia's face and her struggling ceased. The brunette blinked, straightened up in her chair, and absently smoothed down her rumpled blouse.
"You all right over there, Cheerleader?" Spike asked cautiously.
"Yeah, I'm. . . pretty good, considering," Cordelia answered with a certain degree of shock. "I need to call Angel. We have to go back to L.A. tonight." She gingerly touched her temple in confusion. "Why isn't my head threatening to split wide open? Not that I'm complaining, but the mind crushing visions usually leave a whopping load of migraine behind."
"That would be me," Jude said weakly from her position on the couch. The healer was curled up in a ball on the couch with her eyes clenched shut.
"You?" Cordelia asked in amazement.
"It will hurt again the next time," Jude continued like Cordelia hadn't even spoken. "Sorry. I . . . I couldn't fix it. . . ." The healer took a shuddering breath. "Too much . . . It was too big." Jude shuddered again, then cracked her eyes open and glanced at Tara. "Bathroom?"
Tara took in the definite green tinge and wordlessly pointed. Jude lurched to her feet and bolted.
Cordelia watched the younger girl's retreat and felt a twinge of guilt. She hadn't asked Jude to act on her behalf. The seer usually considered the pain the price she had to pay to help out. But whatever the girl had done had not only taken away the pain, but made her feel better than she had in months. But now Jude was facing the consequences for giving Cordelia aid. She wished she could have stopped the girl from interfering, but if there was one thing that the former cheerleader had learned over the last few years was that sometimes you just had to let go and deal with what you got. So, she quickly pushed her guilt away and focused on the matter at hand.
But those higher beings better hope she never met Cordelia Chase face to face. They'd be getting an up close introduction to the toe of her Jimmy Choo's if that ever happened.
Back to the present. . .
After the vision Cordelia had relayed what she saw to Angel over her cell. Xander had run to the seer's side as soon as Tara let him go and stayed in the brunette's lap until Cordelia had left for L.A. with her boss. Jude had stumbled back into the living room several minutes after her quick departure paler than when she'd arrived earlier that evening and shaking with exhaustion. After a quick glance, Spike had gotten up and led the trembling girl back to her spot on the couch. Jude had fallen asleep seconds after sitting down. Giles had sighed and gone to call Jude's grandmother. There was no way he was taking her home in such a condition again.
With a minimum of rearrangement, Tara and Dawn had laid Jude down on the couch with a blanket and pillow. The exhausted healer hadn't as much as twitched as they removed her shoes and moved her into a more comfortable position.
Since nobody was in the mood for movie watching after all the excitement, everyone else decided to call it a night. Dawn magnanimously offered her room to Spike and Xander and proceeded to her sister's room for the night.
Tara had retired to Joyce's room, but sleep didn't come easily. Her mind kept going back to Cordelia's vision, or more precisely to the time right before she had the vision. Tara didn't know how it was possible, but Xander had known that something was wrong a full minute before Tara felt an inkling of power. She had never seen any evidence that Xander could do anything like this in the whole time she'd known him. Had she missed the fact that the young man could somehow sense danger, or was this ability a result of whatever had caused him to de-age?
"You're thinking too hard for so early in the morning."
Tara visibly startled at the intrusion in her thoughts, then turned and gave Spike a mild glare as he entered the kitchen. The sun wasn't high enough in the sky to shine across more than a couple of inches of the linoleum, giving the Spike a guarantee of safe passage to where Tara sat.
"Aren't vampires supposed to sleep during the day?" the witch snarked with a tiny frown.
Spike raised an eyebrow. "Well look who's learned to be grouchy. Good on you, pet." The vampire pulled up a stool and sat facing the young woman. "I would be sleeping, but then I might miss something."
Tara lost any pretense of a frown and conceded Spike's point on the matter. "I don't think either Xander or Dawn would let you get any rest even if you tried anyway." She had to push down the urge to giggle she got at the mental image of Spike hiding in one of the bedrooms with his hands clamped over his ears while the kids ran screaming down the hallway.
"You've been brooding about the boy again, aren't you?" Spike accused.
Tara wanted to deny Spike's observation, but knew the vampire would spot the untruth in a second. She was a horrible liar. "I'm worried about what's been done to him. He's been turned into a child, but what happened last night. . . ."
"Was it really so unusual?" Spike interrupted as Tara's words trailed off.
"He knew Cordelia was going to have a vision before she did!" Tara countered. "Xander's never shown any kind of inclination toward magic or the supernatural before."
Tara was disconcerted when Spike started to chuckle at her statement. Actually, she was more than disconcerted; she was angry. Tara was worried about Xander and Spike was laughing at her. Her quickly changing temperament must have shown on her face, because Spike quickly sobered.
"Calm down, ducks. No need to pull out the big guns," Spike quickly added. "The whelp plays the lovable moron for the Slayer and your witch because that's the boy the two saw in high school. It's normal and safe for them and there is nothing the boy wouldn't do to keep his friends safe and happy. But you and I, we know better. The bumbling tosser he shows is not the be all end all of who he is."
Tara frowned. "So, it's possible that whatever made him know something was going to happen to Cordelia is an aspect of himself that Xander decided wasn't important enough to destroy Buffy and Willow's view of them?"
Spike shrugged. "Whelp's smarter than he looks. He knows not to go into a game showing all your cards. I don't know if he's hiding whatever we saw last night on purpose. But you and I both know that the boy lets people see what he wants them to see."
"Yeah," Tara agreed with a sigh. "The longer Xander is like this the more I realize that he learned to use Sunnydale blindness to his advantage long ago."
With that statement, Tara decided to let the subject drop. She could worry until her hair turned gray, or she could deal with whatever happened as it came. With lack of information about Xander's unlikely situation, the only thing Tara could do was wait. She had more immediate concerns.
"It's 8:30," Tara realized. "Why isn't Xander up yet?"
"He snuck over to the Niblet's room at about two this morning. He and the girl stayed up giggling until 4:30. They may not get up for a couple of hours yet."
Tara quirked a quick grin. "The children are asleep; we've got the whole house to ourselves." Tara spun around in her chair until she was facing Spike. "Whatever shall we do?"
Spike met Tara's grin with one of his own. The smile was much more mischievous than lecherous in nature. "I'm sure we can think of something."
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Joyce loved both of her daughters with an intensity that frightened her at times. She knew that when it came to the safety of her daughters' safety and happiness she could be quite ruthless. Now, she was not about to start killing off girls so her daughters could make the cheerleading squad. But Joyce did get the urge to find a way to slay vampires so Buffy would not have to. Being a slayer is dangerous and a mother's responsibility is to protect her children. Joyce knew she couldn't hold Buffy and Dawn's hands through all the trials of their lives, but that did not stop her from trying.
She couldn't slay vampires and demons, but Joyce could do her best to make the rest of her older daughter's life as normal and happy as possible. The eldest Summers woman also knew without a doubt that she could not keep Dawn away from the supernatural forever. Dawn loved her sister and her sister's friends too much to stand idly by while they protected the world. Her younger daughter needed to help them. Joyce knew that need intimately; she lived with that need every day. In the end, she could not deny Dawn the opportunity to help. But he could delay Dawn's initiation to Sunnydale's darker side as long possible. Buffy had to grow up too fast. So, Joyce was going to let Dawn be a kid until forced to let her go. And she was going to enjoy every moment of mother/daughter time she got with Dawn until that time came.
Given Buffy's calling and the dangers of the world that she had been quite abruptly introduced to, Joyce was often relieved that she and Hank had decided not to have more than two children. She loved her girls, but she didn't think her nerves could take the strain of worrying about another child.
At the moment, however, the stresses of motherhood had taken a backseat in her mind. She stood in the doorway of her younger daughter's bedroom and took in the sight of Dawn and a small dark headed figure cuddled up in bed together. She also took a few snapshots.
The scene reminded her of a time not that many years ago when she would encounter a similar situation when she checked in on Buffy early in the morning. Back then she had thought her life chaotic and out of control. Funny how the last few years had put her time with Hank back in perspective. Sure, he had a full-time job, two rambunctious children, and an adulterous husband, but at least she didn't have demon destruction fund built into her monthly budget.
Joyce looked at Xander and Dawn and smiled. Dawn wasn't going to ever have a little brother or sister to dote on, but the sight did give Ms. Summers a couple of what if's to ponder.
"He's adorable, isn't he?"
Joyce was surprised to see Dawn awake and smiling back at her. "Yes, Dawnie," Joyce confirmed. "He's quite a little cutie."
Dawn grinned from where she lay. "He wandered in my room last night half-asleep and wanting to read a story. The kid's got the weirdest sleeping pattern I've ever seen."
"And he seems to like to cuddle," Joyce pointed out with a twinkle in her eye.
"Yeah. He really likes me," Dawn agreed.
"Well, Xander liked you when he was nineteen, so it makes sense that he still would."
Dawn's grin turned mischievous. "Do you think he'll still want to cuddle when he gets older?"
"Dawn Eleanor Summers!" Joyce admonished while trying to hold back a grin. Honestly, sometimes she wondered what she had done to make her older daughter so shy about mentioning any type of innuendo and her younger daughter so blatantly crass. If she didn't remember her own teen years, Joyce would wonder where Dawn got her at times audacious nature.
"There will be no cuddling with Xander in your bedroom once he's returned to his rightful age."
Dawn's grin did not diminish in the slightest. "What about outside of my bedroom, Mom?"
Joyce's eyes filled with mirth. "That can be discussed on a situational basis."
Only the sleeping boy currently snuggled beside her contained Dawn's squeal of delight at the thought of future Mom-sanctioned Xander snuggles.
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L.A. In the early hours of the morning. . .
The City of Angels has more than its fair share of stretch limos. With so many high profile celebrities and executives to be chauffeured from place to place, the sight of a black limo with heavily tinted windows gliding through the streets did not turn many heads. There was always a party to be had, even at four in the morning.
The limo pulled onto a side street before coming to a quiet halt. The chauffeur's suit was looking rumpled as he exited the vehicle.
"Why the hell would someone page me at this time of night?" he mumbled as he patted down his coat pockets.
After a few seconds he located the pocket in question and removed a half empty pack of cigarettes and a Bic. The driver lit up, tucked the pack and lighter away, then checked the pager attached to his belt. Blinking, the man unclipped the pager and checked the message again.
"Ah, damnit!" he swore. "Who the hell wants a limo at eight in the morning?" The man took a deep drag off his cigarette and continued his grumbling. "First I have to put up with a group of lushes masquerading as socialites. Then the little hussies decided to pick up some man candy for tour of the city's nightclubs. You'd think the boss would cut me some slack, but no! Not for Rick! He'll take a last minute job. It's not like he has anything better to do."
Rick's cigarette was quickly shortening as he complained. "By the time I get the limo presentable I might have time for some breakfast and maybe a nap."
His cigarette was finished but it had done little to calm him. He flicked the butt toward the opposite side of the street. "With my luck the early morning job's a washed up has-been checking into rehab. Probably puke in my car. What did I ever do to deserve this?"
"Maybe you were just born lucky."
Before the limo driver could turn he was slammed onto the hood of his car. Rick's night had just gotten a whole lot worse.
"What the hell are you doing?" Rick yelled as he struggled futilely against an inhumanly strong grip.
His attacker met his eyes and smiled at him. "Getting dinner."
The . . .thing's smile had entirely too many large sharp teeth. Any other day, Rick would have described his wail as shrill and quite unmanly. But he instantaneously forgave himself given the fucking monster trying to take a bite out of his neck.
Rick was about halfway through his life flashing before his eyes when he heard footsteps running toward him. He mentally thanked whoever was interrupting for sparing him a repeat viewing of his junior prom night. Sixteen-year-olds and alcohol were not meant to mix.
The monster pressing down on his chest was abruptly lifting and thrown against the side of the nearest building. Rick could only blink and dazedly watch as a man wearing way too many layers for eight degree weather proceeded to slam his attacker's back into the wall and hold him at eye level. The position put the monster's feet a good inch above the sidewalk.
"I'm sorry. Am I interrupting a moment?" the mysterious leather coat clad man asked without a trace of regret.
If not for the terror, Rick might have protested the overdressed man's comment. As it was, he just laid against the hood and shook. He'd be insulted later. The monster hissed at him through his fangs. "What's it your business for? He's just a limo driver. So what if I take a little nibble?" Obviously his rescuer's scowl was enough to tell the monster that he wasn't winning this argument. "Come on, man! I'm not causing any trouble. I'm just trying to eat! Don't you have more important things to do?"
His rescuer lowered the monster back to the sidewalk and Rick started to get a little worried. "Yeah, maybe I do," he admitted. "But I'm here right now."
Before Rick even noticed the man move, there was a . . .wooden stake impaling the monster. Then the side street's population decreased by one when the monster crumbled to dust. Who the hell carries around wooden stakes? Did he really just see his attacker turn to dust or had those socialites slipped something into his Red Bull earlier?
"Hey, are you all right?"
Rick focused his attention away from his internal panic attack and realized that the mysterious good Samaritan was asking him a question. He also realized that he was still sprawled against the limo's hood. Rick pulled himself back into an upright position.
"Uh, yeah. I'm good," he answered while straightening his suit self-consciously. His rescuer's expression didn't shift much, but he could tell that the man didn't believe him. For some reason this made Rick angry. "Well, I'm not about to break into spontaneous song or anything, but I'm good considering the fact that a monster tried to make me dinner a minute and a half ago." Rick took a deep breathe and shuddered just a bit at that thought. He looked back at the man in the leather coat who was at this point was looking uncomfortable. "Thanks for the save, by the way. I wasn't ready for the afterlife just yet."
If anything, Rick's gratitude made the man look even more uncomfortable. The man could sling monsters around like rag dolls, but it was obvious he wasn't a people person.
From his position near the building that he had staked the attacking vampire against, Angel watched as the recently rescued man began to smirk. "You're welcome," he muttered gruffly. He shifted a little.
The limo driver's smirk widened a little, but the man looked amused rather than malicious. "Do you need me to turn around so you can leave without me seeing, or maybe turn on the headlights to better accentuate your billowing coat as you go off into the early morning?"
Angel groaned and shook his head. With one last look at the limo driver, he turned and skulked back toward the main street. Before the mysterious man disappeared around the corner, Rick heard him grumble, "I'm surrounded by smart asses. Someone up there hates me."
Rick knew that the giggle he restrained at the uttered comment was more than a little hysterical. This night called for a big breakfast and a lot of repression. Working nights in L.A. exposed a person to all kind of weird shit, but this. . .well this wasn't making it into the nightly log. No, he was going to finish his shift, go home, and try his best to put the thought of monsters as far out of his head as possible.
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When Angel got back to the car, Cordelia was waiting in the front seat. "What took you so long?"
Angel sighed. "Well I was on my way and just happened to pass an all night leather store. I've been needing a new pair of leather pants."
"That so not funny!" Cordelia scowled at her boss. "Did you rescue the Rent-a-Suit or what? I don't just get these visions for shits and giggles you know."
"Yeah, he's nice and safe. He can provide overpriced cab service for years to come." Angel became contemplative. "What I don't get is why the guy rated a vision from the Powers That Be. It's not like the vamp that attacked him was bent on world domination or he was guarding some ancient mystical artifact. All I did was stop a vamp from making an unlucky guy his dinner. They don't usually give us a heads up on something so trivial."
"Not everything has to be about saving the world, Angel," Cordelia answered quietly. "Keeping that guy from dying may not seem like a big deal to you. But because of you, that guy gets to see another sunrise. Believe me, that's a huge deal for anyone."
"He didn't act like it was such a dramatic experience," Angel grumbled. Cordelia shot the vampire a glare that told him she was not impressed with his whining. "And he made fun of my coat."
"But not your hair," Cordelia rebuked. "Obviously your rescue was a life altering experience for him."
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Author's Note: Next chapter Anya and Willow will make their appearance, as well as other things!
