Disclaimer: I don't own Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Here it is. The last episode - albeit in multiple parts - of Iron Coin Chronicles Season 2. This season took a lot longer to write than season 1. Both because my life situation was very different back then than it has been while I've worked on this season - season 1 was written while I was at or just after college, and had a lot more free time - and season 2 has been written amongst jobs, several moves, dating and then breaking up and and a whole host of other things.
Also, Season 2 is just... bigger. That was an accident. It wasn't intentional for things to explode like this, but I found there to be just so many aspects of the ongoing story and divergence I've wanted to explore. I know some of you have disliked some of the divergences, and some of you have really liked them, and I have nothing but profuse thanks for all of you that have stuck with me and with this universe so far. It's not quite what it looked like when Season 1 started, but I hope it's continued to be an enjoyable ride, regardless.
Anyway, all that out of the way -
Many countless thanks to Starway Man and deiticlast for their beta-reading services. Not just in looking over the completed or partially completed versions of these chapters, but for serving as vital sounding boards as I mapped out chapters, contributing significant ideas when I was lost as to how to get from point A to point B at times, and more.
In many ways, the two of them are almost co-authors of this fic, by this point, and if there's a thing about this fic you enjoyed, it almost certainly is because of their input.
Now, on with the fic!
Iron Coin Chronicles: Season 2
By Kylia
Episode 22: The Last Stand Of The Initiative (Part 1)
May 2nd, 2000
UC Sunnydale Campus
It wasn't that long after sundown that Spike finally saw Drusilla again. He'd expected one of the Slayers to bring her, and hadn't liked either prospect - the psycho and the blonde bitch both hated him, and hated Drusilla, and he didn't want to think about how they might manhandle his Dru.
Instead, it was the psycho-slayer's bird. It took a few moments for him to remember the name - Amy? And then a bit behind her, a tranq rifle in hand, was Percy - the psycho's Watcher.
Not that Spike really paid that much attention to those two, because when he saw Drusilla again - the last few days without her had felt an age - he only had eyes for her, his dark princess.
On the surface, she looked almost the same. She was a little dirtier, her hair slightly unkempt - in a way different than it was usually unkempt - and didn't carry herself with the same ethereal grace she always had. But on the surface, she seemed the same.
In reality, of course, Spike knew how much bollocks that was. He knew his Dru, he knew when she wasn't right, and she wasn't right. But she wasn't hurt, wasn't sick, wasn't in one of her particularly unpredictable spells. She was huddled in on herself, murmuring prayers, making a motion with her hand near her neck.
Rosary.
The human his sire had once been had wanted to be a nun, he'd always known that. One of Drusilla's favorite jokes over the years had always been 'I used to want to be a nun, then Daddy taught me bad habits'.
And it's not like she can become a nun now. Would she even be able to touch rosary beads?
Would Drusilla even care if she couldn't?
Because he could see the pain in her gaze, in every step she took - she seemed shrunken in on herself, constantly shaking, as if she was about to break out into a mad fit... and she probably was.
What did they do to you, love?
"Dru!" Spike rushed to the bars of the cage the white hats had stuck him in, pushing at the bars, trying to get them out of place or... bend them or break them. Anything to get to her.
Drusilla saw him, and her eyes widened. She was about to say something, but the Watcher berk interrupted with a half-shout.
"Stop that," Percy interrupted, pointing the tranq gun at him.
"Step back away from the bars and I'll let her in," Amy added. Spike glared at her, but the witch didn't flinch. So Spike stepped back and with a wave of the witch's hand, the door to the fucking cage they'd stuck him in unlocked and slid open. Strangely, rather than the unceremonious shove Spike expected the witch to give Dru, Amy let go of her arm and just let Drusilla move on her own...
And Drusilla, his love, his dark lady, his dark princess, even now that he had a soul rushed through the door and to him. He didn't really pay attention to the witch saying 'you have a half an hour.'
"Spike! Oh, William, my brave knight." Drusilla said as Spike embraced her, as she placed her hands on his cheeks, looking up to meet his eyes. "You always loved me -"
"And I always will," Spike interrupted, meaning it with every fibre of his heart (and soul).
"You mustn't, mustn't love me. I'm filthy - dirty. Sinner." She started to babble, "I wronged you so much, my poor Spike, my William, my knight. I'm a monster - I made you an evil beast, stole your spirit, your soul... I ruined you!" She wailed in a mixture of pain and fear and collapsed against him, sobbing. Spike wrapped his arms around her protectively.
"I can't help but love you, Dru," Spike murmured, knowing she'd be able to hear him even over the sounds of her own frenzied sobs. "Nothing you did ruined me... I became who I became, because that's what I wanted." It was true enough, to his mind - Spike had chosen to turn the insult 'William the Bloody' into something far more darker, to test out that theory some of his critics had had about railroad spikes. Had chosen to find and kill two Slayers, chosen to slaughter his way across Europe and Asia over the course of a century.
Not every vampire out there had chosen to embrace bloody viciousness as much as he had - some did it more, like Angelus, or the bloody idiots that joined 'end of the world' cults. Others just killed when they were hungry and were done with it. But Spike had chosen to kill more than that, chosen to act on every evil or violent impulse, for the fun, for the challenge, for the sheer bloody-mindedness of it, sometimes.
"No! You were good and pure, and I ruined it. I'm a nasty sinner, a monster! Demon!" Drusilla didn't exactly stop sobbing as she got those words out, and Spike said nothing, not knowing what he could say.
"Drusilla. I love you. Nothing changes that, luv. Nothing, not even the soul that blasted witch gave you. All of you - eyeballs to entrails, sinner or not. You were good and pure once, but neither of us are now - and bugger it all to hell, I don't care! You're still mine, I'm still yours, and that's all that matters..."
May 2nd, 2000
Ruins of Sunnydale High
"Well, I've got good news, and bad news," Buffy said, as she walked into what was left of the Sunnydale High library. It was one of the few places in town that seemed to be a safe spot for a clandestine meeting. Most demons and vampires avoided the ruins - despite the presence of the Hellmouth's center - which kept the Initiative's teams away, and it wasn't under any surveillance.
Riley looked up, "Hello to you too, Buffy," He smiled tiredly, but still took her hand. Buffy pulled him in for a hug, taking a moment to just have her boyfriend there, with her, before giving him a quick kiss and then pulling back.
"Sorry. Just - Cordelia got Spike to talk, finally, so now we know what ADAM is up to," Buffy told him.
"So it worked, the whole soul curse thing. And Spike's... one of the good guys now, like Angel?"
Buffy laughed, at Riley's all-too-obvious skepticism and the words themselves. She probably laughed just a little bit too long, but it was nice to have a genuinely funny thing to laugh at about this whole mess.
"He has a soul now, yeah, and enough morality and shame to be bullied into helping by 'Queen C' when she's on prime form. Not sure that makes him a 'good guy' yet. And don't ever say he's 'like Angel' around either of them." Buffy chuckled a little, remembering their argument right after Spike had recovered from being ensouled. It was a little funny, in hindsight.
"I'll keep it in mind. So... what's ADAM up to?"
"He wants to make more cyborg-demons himself, basically." Buffy outlined the details as shared by Spike via Cordelia. Load the Initiative with demons and vampires, all thinking ADAM as some sort of messiah who will lead them on some great anti-human crusade. Or something along those lines. But ADAM needed them to die, too.
"... which is why he didn't kill Faith or me, when he had the chance," Buffy finished. "He needs us alive -"
"- to make sure the balance of casualties is even," Riley finished, then shook his head. "That plan - it's... it's insane."
"Tell him that. Hell, tell Walsh that - she made him," Buffy saw Riley open his mouth, probably to defend Walsh, even if a little tepidly, but then he stopped himself, drawing up short. He's really accepted just how fucking crazy she was. Riley hadn't defended Walsh that much, the last few times, more and more accepting that his mentor had been a closet psycho, but this was the first time in the last few weeks he hadn't at least said something in her defense.
"But anyway, that's his plan. And since you can't get your idiot boss Colonel-person to do anything about the overcrowding that ADAM is causing..." Buffy shook her head, "you need to prepare for it. For a mass jailbreak."
"Yeah, and how exactly do I prepare for that?!" Riley demanded, then he took a deep breath. "People are going to die. No matter what I do -" Riley cut himself off and started again. "And you don't have any idea when this insanity is happening?"
Buffy shook her head, "No. But if the last few years in Sunnydale have taught me anything, it'll be soon. May is always Apocalypse season, around here."
"Until I met you, I never knew I'd need to know what the plural of apocalypse is," Riley dragged a hand down across his face, letting out a small sigh. "Christ, what a mess. Okay… If we fortify part of the upper base, the section away from the cells - I'd have to do it carefully, without MacNamara figuring it out -"
"Is there any way you could convince him?" They didn't have time to... play around with the delicate sensibilities of Riley's boss. They needed to prepare for the breakout, or even start killing the demons in the cells now. It rubbed her the wrong way to kill a bunch of helpless enemies, but they wouldn't be helpless for long, and with that many of them on the loose?
Screw that whole thing about playing fairly.
"We know that there's going to be a break-out," Buffy went on. "I mean, yeah, you can't tell your boss where you got the information from, but surely he'd listen if -"
"No. He wouldn't, I know him well enough now to be sure of that," Riley's interruption was firm. He stepped away from her and half-turned, looking at the gaping hole in the ground that was the actual Hellmouth. "MacNamara is a fucking gung-ho idiot, someone who can't even imagine anything can go wrong with the Initiative's security. And if ADAM has all of Professor Walsh's notes and records, then he also has any override commands she built into the Initiative's systems." Riley sighed, closing his eyes a moment, then turned back to her.
"And at this point, I'm sure she installed backup ways to take over the systems, separate from the official ones. MacNamara was smart enough to have the official overrides purged, but... the Professor designed the entire system - from the software running the cells, to the fu- freaking lights and doors! ADAM could take over the entire system, and MacNamara won't believe me if I warn him it's possible. He hasn't seen ADAM. He thinks ADAM is some kind of malfunctioning robot. But he's not. He's... alive," Riley shuddered as he said it.
Buffy shook her head. "ADAM is a lot of things, but not some dumb machine," she agreed. No. ADAM hadn't just been... like some computer program that was just following bad orders or whatever, like in some cheesy sci-fi movie. What was the movie called that Xander had us all watch? War Games? Something about nuclear war and the only winning move being not to play. She also remembered tic-tac-toe being a thing in it, too.
Well, maybe - she hadn't really been paying attention.
But the point remained - ADAM could think, plan, predict, respond. He was... a person. Like her boyfriend, Buffy shuddered at the thought of that thing counting in any sense as a person, but there it was.
"Okay, fine; so you'll have to work around your boss to prepare for the break-out. And we'll need to be able to get in, one way or another, so we can help you out."
"If ADAM wants you and Faith there, odds are he's going to leave you a way in," Riley pointed out.
"Yeah, but I'd rather not risk the obvious trap. Is there another way in we can use? One that's not an obvious entrance?" She'd rather not take a door with 'TRAP' written all over it, if there was another way.
Riley nodded, "Maybe. With some quality climbing gear, you could come in another way, I'm sure. We have some in the armory. I can get it to you..." Riley shook his head. "But that doesn't matter, because there's still no way to beat ADAM. We don't have any way to kill him. Even if all his demons were killed, he could just kill us all himself!"
"Willow, Tara and Amy are working on a way to stop him. Wesley and Giles are helping with the research. They'll figure out a way to do it," I hope. Three witches and two Watchers should be enough, right?
But would it be enough... fast enough?
May 3rd, 2000
Tara's Dorm, UC Sunnydale
"I don't think the 'giant flypaper' plan is going to work," Willow said, setting aside another book. "Even if we could make it work, and we don't seem to be making any progress there, he's still strong enough to just grab Faith or Buffy and throw them across the room!" At least, that's how the encounter Buffy and Faith had had with ADAM had been relayed to her.
Depending on the spell we cast, I might have to get up close and personal with the guy. The thought of going into the Initiative, facing all those demons - just being in the same place she was held prisoner again... Willow suppressed a shudder. Even if most of the people in the Initiative are bigoted poopyheads, they're still humans who can't just be left to die. And ADAM would hardly stop once he'd started making his cyborg demon army.
Tara nodded, letting out a small breath. "We need a new idea... or several."
"If we had some uranium, we could use it to do some sort of - like draws to like spell, pull the core powering his body out of him," Willow thought aloud. "Of course, there's the whole 'Uranium will kill us if we spend too much time unprotected around it and by the way it's illegal for people to just have' problem," Willow babbled. Of course, if she had enough properly enriched uranium, she probably could have made a nuclear bomb. The basic idea wasn't actually that hard, you just needed a bit of know-how and the right materials...
Which was why getting the stuff you'd need to make a real bomb was so hard to pull off, and oh so very illegal.
"Of course," Willow babbled on, her thoughts catching up with her, "there's the whole 'we're technically wanted by a secret black ops government program and then everyone broke in to break me out and I was there and a prisoner and oh goddess if I'm ever arrested will they have a record of that and send me into a cell again because I'm an escaped prisoner -" Willow was cut off when Tara grabbed her hand and squeezed tightly for a moment, a soft smile on her face.
She has a really nice smile. It wasn't the first time Willow had thought that, but she was thinking it more lately. And the small... tingle? Electric sensation? That went up her arm at Tara's touch wasn't new - she'd felt it the first time they'd held hands to combine their magic and throw a vending machine in front of a door to keep the Gentlemen at bay...
But there was something more this time, and Willow squirmed a little as she sat cross-legged on Tara's bed, across from the other witch, open books in between and around them.
Or is it just this time that it feels more? And more what? Willow wouldn't really place whatever it was she felt, when she saw Tara smile, or when she held her hand or they brushed fingers or...
"I... I don't think that's a good plan, even if we could get the... the uranium," Tara pointed out, gently. After another moment, she let go of Willow's hand, and an expression Willow couldn't place passed across the other girl's face. But only for a moment.
"No," Willow agreed, swallowing a little, her throat feeling suddenly dry. "I just... I think the key to stopping him is probably in that core. ADAM doesn't have organs or circulation or blood... so short of - of, like, totally dismembering him... how else can he be stopped?"
"I... I don't know," Tara shook her head helplessly. "This... all this... fighting and violence... I still don't know how to handle it well. I'm not used to thinking about magic as a weapon. I, I don't like doing it."
Willow opened her mouth, about to bring up the fact that magic was a tool - like a fork or a spoon or hammer or whatever. You could use it for something good, or something bad...
But Tara didn't even like thinking of magic as a tool. She thought of it as, as… something else. Something… holy, for want of a better word. Something that was to be regarded with some reverence, anyway. It was a worldview Willow was slowly starting to share, but - still...
Magic can be used for so many things, and Sunnydale is a war zone, by any other name. So why not use it for them?
"Maybe we should take a break from this problem?" Willow suggested, gesturing to all the books around them. "We've... we've been at it for..." Willow looked at the digital alarm clock on Tara's side table. "Four and a half hours?" It didn't feel like that long, did it? She blinked, but sure enough, that's how long they'd been at it.
"Yeah. I think that's a good idea," Tara agreed, and they started closing the books and getting them into neat piles, setting them on the floor and out of the way. Several times, their hands lightly brushed up against each other's as they reached for the same book, or books next to each other...
Each time that... little feeling, that...
That thrill ran up her arm.
When the word finally placed itself in her head, Willow froze up completely.
No - wait, but -
That was the word. That feeling she felt every time their hands touched, for whatever reason. A thrill. An electric feeling of connection... and more.
Willow inhaled sharply, like the beginning of a hiccup, and looked at Tara, who had been distracted by one of the books they'd been putting away and was looking at one passage intently. Some of her hair fell down across her eyes and Tara tucked it away behind her ear, biting her lip a little as she read in something that Willow had seen plenty of times before...
A sudden desire to kiss Tara flashed through her brain, and Willow shook herself out of her stupor. I can't be - I can't be - she's my friend. This is insane, I can't be thinking about - while she's -
Everything started to click in her brain, and Willow needed to leave. Run. Go somewhere else. Think. Not think. She needed - she needed out of the room. Away. Now.
"I - actually, I need to go. I didn't realize - I have to - somewhere to be. I need to -" Willow didn't really even try to finish a complete sentence as she scrambled off the bed, grabbing her backpack and rushing to the door, completely forgetting that several of the books were hers.
"Alright..." Tara responded, sounding completely confused, almost... hurt? "I'll see you tomorrow, then."
Willow nodded eagerly, "Right, of course, tomorrow. See you then," She hurried to the door, opened it, looked back, "Bye!"
She didn't run out of Tara's dorm building, but Willow did hustle, not stopping until she was outside, ignoring any confused looks she got from other people. She only paused for a quick breath before she kept moving, not stopping until she reached an empty area off to the side of campus, an empty bench. Willow drew up short in front of the bench, taking a deep breath, and sitting down.
She'd actually wanted to kiss Tara. and now that she thought about it, she didn't think that was even the first time...
Not the first time I've noticed her lips, how nice they look, how soft -
Stop! No! Willow shook her head, violently, slapping herself mentally. But it didn't stop her from thinking...
Was Willow... did she - Do I - do I like Tara?!
No! Of course not! Willow's immediate thought was to reject the notion. She didn't like girls. Not - not like that!
I can't be gay. I loved - love - Oz!
But that didn't mean she couldn't be - like, she could actually be bisexual, right? It wasn't as if she'd be the only one around here, if so - Amy was Bi, Faith was super-Bi, and before she'd started her relationship with Amy, that girl had flirted with everyone in the group at least once, in some form or another.
But I don't - I'm not into... I don't like girls!
The protestation felt pathetic in her mind, though, because Willow couldn't deny that she absolutely did like at least one girl. She'd wanted to kiss Tara, and not in some platonic friendly peck on the cheek you did with friends in some other cultures, or in the metaphorical 'I could kiss you' or - or -
Nothing like any of that.
And then there was that... electric thrill, every time they'd touched, recently. And that first time. That wasn't... that wasn't platonic.
She'd felt that before, with Oz. Not quite like she did with Tara, which was why it had taken so long for her to -
For her to realize what they meant, what those feelings were.
Willow knew that Tara was gay - it wasn't something Tara had kept hidden, though neither was it something she'd really advertised that much, either. Willow had never really thought much of it, because it didn't change anything about how she'd regarded Tara as a friend. The amazing, strong - even if she didn't think she was - smart, funny, clever, wonderful, powerful, caring and beautiful witch that had very quickly become one of her closest friends.
But that's all I am to her. Willow didn't think that just because she was gay, Tara would be interested in her. It wasn't like people in general were ever interested in her, as a rule. Oz had been an exception, and - and -
Oz.
It had been months - nearly five, actually - since she'd lost him. It wasn't...
I can't - I -
Willow still missed Oz. Still woke up wishing he was next to her when she did so. Still sometimes read or learned something interesting, got the notion that she couldn't wait to tell Oz about it.
Before remembering he was dead. Gone. She could - and had - gone to his tombstone, to talk to him, a few times, but...
She felt a little sick, over falling for someone - anyone - so soon after Oz's death.
It's not like he'd ever want or expect you to be alone forever, a rational part of her brain pointed out, and it wasn't as if Willow could disagree with that - but five months wasn't forever!. But...
Tara was her friend - an essential friend that she couldn't imagine making it through Oz's death without. The spell that had tied her to Amy and Tara had helped her manage her grief, but still, it was Tara she'd leaned on, had there for her, when Amy was with Faith, or Xander with Cordelia, Buffy with Riley, or whatever.
Buffy was still her best friend, Xander her oldest friend, but Tara - Tara was her closest friend, right now. And she couldn't - wouldn't risk that by...
But do I - am I just-?
Willow paused a moment, and even though she knew it was a bad idea, closed her eyes and entertained that thought of kissing Tara. She thought back to just a few minutes before, in Tara's dorm, the way Tara had been biting her lip, pushing those stray blonde hairs behind her ear...
She let it play out in her head, briefly, if she'd actually done it, kissed her. Tentative, at first, then more fiercely, grabbing the other woman and -
Stop!
Willow opened her eyes and took a breath, her pulse racing, heart pounding.
Whatever else... whatever else she was feeling - and that 'whatever' was like a roiling hurricane - Willow could be sure that she did, in fact, like Tara. You don't - you don't think about kissing a friend like that. You don't feel like that when you think about it, if she's just a friend, if that's all you -
Right?
She hadn't even felt like that when she'd imagined kissing Xander, back before he'd started dating Cordelia, and she'd started dating Oz and - and - and...
Willow closed her eyes, took a breath and stood up, opening her eyes. There were a couple more hours of daylight left.
She couldn't have a conversation with Oz... but she could talk to him.
May 4th, 2000
UC Sunnydale Campus
Took her long enough.
The Gazer watched, invisible and inaudible, with some mild satisfaction as things finally began to proceed as they were supposed to.
Moving the Blonde Witch into the orbit of the Red one had gotten things moving on increasing her power, just as needed to happen. Deepening her involvement in magic. They'd even managed to arrange events such that the other witch, the unexpected intruder, could be of useful purpose. By tying Amy Madison, Tara Maclay and Willow Rosenberg together into a single coven, the extra witch could be tied to increasing Willow's power and entanglement in magic.
The Librarian and the Stratagem were still unhappy, of course - but all things considered, the Gazer believed the situation was under control. They had been unable to completely account for the second Slayer properly, but they'd been correcting for her presence by simply increasing the challenges faced. It wouldn't be perfect, but if the Gazer could convince the Librarian to carry on with his plan for just six more months, Faith Lehane would no longer be a problem.
With a 88.459521% probability, anyway. And there were other plans - within nine months, as long as the Stratagem didn't jump the gun and do something stupid, the Lehane Slayer would be taken out of play with near one hundred percent certainty, whatever the Jester, Weaver or Hydra tried to do. Whatever any lesser power might even try to do.
Of course, the far-too-early ensoulment of one vampire, and the ensoulment of another that was never supposed to receive such a thing...
That had upset the Professor, and driven the Librarian into a rage that, if the being had been human, might have been termed 'apoplectic'. But the Gazer was confident that those two vampires could at least be taken out of play from the core theaters of Sunnydale and Los Angeles. Those were what mattered, in this particular theater - the supernatural world of this planet, in this universe, in this dimension, at this time, in these metaphysical coordinates.
We must be patient, and plan for the long term. Things must proceed as they must, now, more than ever. This universe sat on a critical lynchpin. Correcting for it if it fell too far out of alignment was possible, but far more than the Gazer wanted to do. It would require too many adjustments elsewhere, risking letting chaos spread into other worlds.
Already, the Gazer projected that the Jester would be creating more shavings of the Five Coins and distributing them across all levels of reality. Not only in existing theaters, but brand new ones.
The Jester won if things changed from how they should be, irrelevant to how they changed.
But at least this, this one thing, was perfectly on track. Delayed, not reaching fruition for a few months, but now a collision course had been set.
For humans, so much did seem to depend on seemingly irrelevant romantic entanglements. And yet...
And yet.
May 4th, 2000
Weatherly Park, Sunnydale
"So, freshman year of college is over. How's it feel?"
Cordelia laughed, shaking her head, "Until the Apocalypse is done, Xander, the school year isn't really over. Might be done with classes, yeah, but summer doesn't start until this year's Big Bad is dead. No relaxing on the beach or whatever, when the end of the world is just around the corner."
Her boyfriend hesitated for a moment, then nodded, "... you're not wrong."
"Well, duh," Cordelia replied, then she looked over at the food between them and the picnic blanket they were sitting on. Xander had taken her over to a more secluded section of the park and here they were having a 'nice, normal, casual date', in his words. Or as normal as they could have... with ADAM looming on the horizon.
"You didn't need to do this, you know," she said, gesturing to the food, and the blanket. "I was happy to just stay in."
"Yeah, but I wanted to do something nice for you. You did take all those exams, you deserve a break," Xander replied, smiling. "Stop using your brain a bit, and just have some fun. Or at least relax." Xander paused a moment, then let out a sigh. "It's not like we can actually do anything until Demon Terminator puts his evil plan into gear, or until Willow, Tara and Amy come up with a way to beat him. Or maybe Giles and Wesley, if they come up with something. Or," Xander added, lowering his voice a little, "my... source decides to be informative."
"Nothing?"
Xander shook his head, "Nothing useful. I think..." He paused, obviously searching for the right word. "I can't tell if he's being deliberately obtuse, or just doesn't have anything to say."
"Everything you've said about him makes it seem to me like he's probably not saying anything just to be a dick," Cordelia pointed out. Then she shook her head, "But enough about... school or the Apocalypse. Summer may not have started yet, but it is starting soon. I know you'll have a lot of work coming up, but if we don't go to the beach around once a week, I am so breaking up with you." The words had no sting, because they weren't true, but still.
I may not be able to go on a vacation to the tropics, but if I don't get at some beach time with my boyfriend, I'm going to start robbing banks!
Okay, not really, but still.
Xander smiled, "I'm sure I'll be able to make that work," He picked up one of the sandwiches and took a bite, waiting to swallow before going on, "What are your plans for the summer, otherwise? You were talking about summer classes a few months ago, right?"
"So I could get some more credits out of the way, yeah. And I looked into it, but it doesn't seem worth it now." Cordelia took a breath, then went on. "I was thinking... I was thinking I might try to get a summer job."
Xander covered his mouth as he started to laugh.
"Xander." Cordelia just Looked at him, and his eyes widened, swallowing the bite of food in his mouth very quickly before coughing repeatedly, then, finally saying...
"So... you're serious."
"I am. Is the idea me working that absurd?" She'd known Xander had no idea she'd been toying with the idea, that it would surprise her, but...
Just... outright laughter?
"I- I-" Xander looked around, as if he could find some way to dig himself out of the doghouse he was digging himself into, before finally saying, "It's just - any job you can get just for the summer is gonna have to be some sort of... name-tag-person job, and I know how much you hate those. The idea of you getting one is just - crazy, you know?"
Cordelia frowned, Xander saying what she already knew. Name-tag-person was what she was going to have to be. She was pretty sure she could talk the owner of April Fool's into giving her a job for the summer - the owner and her mom had been friends, before her parents had skipped town, and Cordelia thought she could play on that.
"I don't really have much choice... the last year hasn't exactly been one where I've been on top of the world like I used to be. Just one more way that's true, I guess." It was a bitter pill to swallow, especially now that she was admitting it out loud.
"You don't have to, Cordy. This construction worker thing... it's going pretty well for me. I... I'm actually good at it, surprisingly enough, and I like it. And... it pays pretty well, even at my level."
"And I like what it's done to your physique," Cordelia agreed, looking her boyfriend over - and enjoying how he flushed a little at her appreciation. "But... look, Xander your mom has been... really good with us living with her, the last year. But I don't want to mooch off of her generosity until either I graduate, or convince you to move out of Sunnydale." She swatted away what she knew he would sway, "Not starting that discussion again, doofus, I'm just saying!"
"And even if we did that, and I transferred to some other college somewhere else, and you got a job there, working construction... I mean, rent would be more and paying for food and... and it's not really an option, at least not right now. But like I said, I don't want to live with your mom for the next three years. Do you?"
Xander opened his mouth, closed it again, considered for a few moments, then shook his head. "No."
"Exactly. So..." Cordelia took a breath. "I need to bite the bullet, and get myself a summer job. Save up enough for us to maybe start looking into getting our own apartment, once the summer's over. I am not going to be a name-tag person my whole life, but I am gonna have to do something." She'd hold off on mentioning that she was thinking of extending her summer job - whatever it was, if she could - to a part-time job come the fall semester.
Assuming it wasn't pure hell. Which, given where they lived, wasn't impossible.
May 4th, 2000
Faith's Apartment, Sunnydale
"How... how the hell did you get me to agree to watch this movie with you?" Faith wasn't entirely sure what she was supposed to be thinking, as she watched a bunch of singing mice and birds make a fancy dress - one with all kinds of crazy frills and tons of pink. "Holy crap. Is she actually going to wear that?"
"This is my favorite movie!" Amy replied, defensively, flushing in embarrassment. "You said I pick anything I wanted, and so I picked this. And of course she doesn't - wait, have you never seen Cinderella before?"
Faith nodded, "Amy, I've seen, like, two Disney movies my entire life - the one with those black and white dogs, and Peter Pan. Mom wasn't really big on buying VHS tapes and shit, you know?" And by the time she was bouncing around foster homes, she'd deemed herself too old for Disney movies.
Which I am, damnit. And Amy was too.
Amy's eyes widened, "Okay, then we have to -"
Faith held up a hand, "No. No - no! You are not roping me into watching a bunch of fucking Disney movies!"
Amy paused the movie, right as Cinderella walked in to find her dress completed and looked back at her, "Come on! How can you not like Disney?"
"Because it's singing animals, and fairy tale true love, and happy ending bullshit! That's not what life's like!" Faith shook her head. "It's all so damn bright and cheery!" She gestured to herself and Amy. "We're not some 'love at first sight' or 'true love's kiss ends magic spell' couple, like you see in Disney movies and all that shit. Hell, we just had a fight!" Which was one of the reasons she'd given Amy complete free reign when it came to picking what they watched. Usually, since it was her TV, Faith picked, though she usually gave Amy a choice of a couple movies Faith thought looked good, if the movie was for them to watch together.
Of course, I'm starting to run out of movies I like at the local rental place. Not going to college or working like B and the others left Faith with a lot of free time during the day, and though she worked out or whatever, she still had a lot of time to watch movies and TV.
Though, with summer just around the corner, and Amy not having to deal with classes anymore, the odds were she'd have some better stuff to spend her time on.
"Yeah, I know that's not how real life works! That's the whole point of watching a Disney movie - well, that and all the catchy songs." Amy started humming one of the songs from earlier in Cinderella, but stopped after a little bit. "Yeah, the real world isn't all happy endings if you just believe hard enough, but A - that's not really what's going on in these movies, Faith, and B - escapism doesn't just have to be watching C list movie action heroes and action heroines beating the crap out of endless mooks!"
"Hey!" Now it was Faith's turn to get defensive. "You like watching a lot of those movies too."
"Yeah, some of them are really good. Or bad, in a fun way. But I like Disney movies too. And I like Cinderella." Amy flushed a little and when she spoke again, her voice was a bit softer: "When I was a kid, when mom was being especially awful, I'd put it in the VCR and... hope for my fairy godmother to come and rescue me from her. That some handsome prince would save me from her. Something. Let me pretend that it would all be better someday. And... in the end, it was."
Amy smirked, "Of course, a sexy slayer girlfriend is a hell of a lot better than a handsome prince, but don't tell six year old me that." She leaned in and gave Faith a light, teasing kiss. Faith grabbed onto Amy, and was about to deepen the liplock when the witch pulled back, grabbed the remote and started the damn movie again.
Come on!
May 5th, 2000
17619 White Oak Drive, Sunnydale
"Cordelia Chase," Xander said as the coin sailed upwards, landing in his hand without a single vision. Nothing.
Well, that's not new.
He hadn't been seeing much of anything recently, for anyone. Like he'd told Cordy, his 'source' hadn't been very informative in recent weeks.
"Is Fate really just that off-book at this point, or are you just dicking me around because you can?" Xander asked the empty air around him, knowing the Jester would hear it, see it... and probably do nothing.
Taking a breath, Xander flipped once more:
"Buffy Summers," and... something.
Buffy - a graveyard. Months from now.
She's dusted a vampire, and a man walks out from behind a mausoleum. Tall, pale, long flowing hair and long flowing cape.
"Very impressive hunt," the vampire said - had to be a vampire, to be dressed like that in a graveyard. He had an accent that almost sounded fake.
"Okay, who are you supposed to be?"
"Oh, I'm sorry, I thought you knew," The vampire gave an elaborate bow. "I am Dracula."
Xander was thrown back out of the vision with minimal force - just a small headache, nothing really. So... not super-important. But apparently Count Dracula, the big famous guy himself, was going to drop by for a visit in a few months.
I wonder if I can get him to say 'blah'? Xander chuckled at the thought. Dracula or not, Buffy would beat him, like she did everyone else. Though when they'd dealt with ADAM, maybe he could do some research, or see if he drop the name somewhere. Warn Buffy that an unliving legend was going to visit.
"Fun. I suppose I should actually try to read the original book, too, if it is even kinda accurate." Well, parts of it are okay - mirrors, crosses, invitations, all that stuff. Garlic doesn't work, though. He'd tried it after he'd first found out about the undead... hadn't done anything. Just made him smell.
"Willow Rosenberg." Zilch. "Rupert Giles." Nada. "Tara Maclay." Nichts - he'd actually gone and looked up the word nothing in two dozen languages, he'd gotten so bored with all the nothings he was getting.
"Jessica Harris." Niente. "Amy Madison." Rien. "Wesley Wyndam-Pryce." Ingenting.
"Riley Finn."
ADAM - or something that Xander assumed was ADAM, based on how the creepy-ass demon robot cyborg zombie fit Buffy and Faith's descriptions.
Riley and ADAM, in some kind of lab, underground. The Initiative? Had to be. Talking. Riley lunged at ADAM, and then suddenly he was frozen in place.
"Why can't I move!? What did you do -"
"I did nothing - Mother did it. Embedded a chip inside your body - right here," ADAM pointed to somewhere above Riley's heart, near the shoulder. "In case she ever needed to ensure your cooperation. I merely activated it. But don't worry, brother. Soon, it won't be necessary anymore. Soon, you'll understand. Soon, you'll obey willingly. Once you are... improved."
Well. Fuck.
How was he going to break that news to Riley? I'll have to try and tell Buffy, warn her. Hope that she can warn Riley.
On the plus side, at least it looked like he wasn't dying.
Rubbing at his temples, Xander sat down on his bed. "Have I mentioned how much I hate this whole -"
"Not being able to tell your friends everything? Many times, and with increasing levels of annoyance. If I was a human, I'd have died of boredom hearing you say it over and over again," The Jester's annoying, smug voice said from behind him. Xander didn't turn - he just dropped his head into his hands and let out a long sigh.
"Not happy to see me?"
"Dude, all you do is raise my blood pressure and make my headaches worse." Usually from confusion, but still. "So where have you been lately? You used to drop by and mock me more often."
"Oh, I've had things to do," The Jester replied. Xander looked up and started to turn towards him but he just vanished and reappeared in front of him. "You aren't really even worth this much of my focus, to just come and watch you. I've been busy arranging supernovas and galaxy-spanning wars a few dimensions over. It's fun, you should try it some time."
Xander blinked. "I honestly can't tell if you're being serious or not."
"I never lie," The Jester replied, almost sounding indignant. "Unless you count by omission, and that's not actually lying."
"I'm pretty sure it is."
"Which one of us is the higher being that occupies twenty-three-dimensional superspace? I know of what I speak."
"I'm pretty sure you spend most of your... do I call it life? Existence? Whatever you call it," Xander rolled his eyes, "I'm pretty sure you spend it talking out of your ass. Probably more fun for you that way."
"Spooky," The Jester chuckled. "The Coin's changing you even faster than I anticipated, you know." Xander closed his eyes at that reminder. "I mean, you're approaching my wavelength more and more. Maybe in a few millennia, you might be able to graduate up a few dimensions. Not that you'll live that long, even if I let you keep that fragment of my Iron Coin the whole time. Still..." The Jester struck a thoughtful pose. "Gives me ideas."
"Always happy to help," Xander muttered. "Does that mean you're here for it?"
"Oh, not yet. You've still got a whole lot of things coming up. Can't wait to see how you give that bookish stick-in-the-mud another fit. Not to mention how she'll react."
"She?" So far, the two higher beings he'd seen - the Jester and the Librarian - had appeared as guys to him. Made sense that one of the higher powers on the level of those two would "be a woman", but who was it?
"Spoilers." The Jester waved goodbye, "Toodles!"
And then he was gone.
"I hate it when you do that, too!"
May 5th, 2000
Crawford Street Mansion
Drusilla's visit with Spike had gone... well, it had gone. Drusilla had babbled and sobbed incoherently for most of it, and Spike had murmured supportive and loving words she'd never have expected from him.
And to the vampire that turned him into a vampire, that made him into a monster. But Spike had insisted it was his choices that had made him William the Bloody.
That was what Amy thought he'd said, anyway. Unlike Wesley, she hadn't tried to eavesdrop. Wesley had probably not only listened to everything they said, but went and wrote it all down afterwards when he got back to his place. Studying the effects of ensoulment in the immediate aftermath, and all that.
But he had come through on that long essay on Drusilla. The details on exactly what Angelus did to Drusilla before he turned her were sketchy, but the general picture was quite clear - he'd stalked her for two years, killed her family, tormented her, and then, when she'd tried to flee to a convent, probably thinking it was the one place she'd be safe from the demon that pursued her, he killed all the nuns, breaking her completely and then... turning her.
Drusilla had been... messed up, to put it bluntly, and all the guilt arising from the presence of her soul had only compounded it.
At least Drusilla wasn't a sobbing wreck anymore. Something about her meeting with Spike had at least left her... better? Maybe?
Is sitting silently and just breaking into occasional fits of sobbing better than being a whimpering mess? It seemed like it, but it still felt wrong to use the word 'better' to describe Drusilla's state.
"Drusilla?" Amy asked quietly, walking up to the bars of the vampire's cage. Amy didn't really like the idea of caging Drusilla, especially, but it was for her own safety. She didn't think the guilt-ridden vampire would try to lose her own soul deliberately - she seemed to crave the guilt. But still, it was probably better safe than sorry.
"Leave me be," Drusilla moaned pitifully.
"I don't... I want to help you."
"Why?" Drusilla looked at her. "I tried to kill your love, your Slayer. I'm evil - filthy - sinner!" She shouted those last three words, digging her long fingernails into her hands and actually breaking the skin, but not noticing - or at least, not caring about the pain.
"You did... but... I mean, it's not that simple, right?" Amy shook her head, "You didn't, as well. You're not the same person who did all that, not really. You're not evil, not as long as you don't want to keep doing those things." Amy sat down next to the cage. "And there's nothing that you can do to make you 'filthy'. That's... not how... you know, morality works." Amy groped for the right words, pausing every few and gesturing blindly as she tried to get... something useful out.
"And before... before you did... before you did all the things you did, you were a victim. Of a fuc- freaking," Amy wasn't sure how the good Catholic girl, the would-be nun would take swearing, "monster."
"I have no idea what it felt like to go through what you did, but I do know what it's like to be the victim of a monster." And while I haven't done the things you did without a soul...
Amy wouldn't deny she was still afraid of becoming just like her mother - or worse, if her vampire doppelganger was anything to go by.
"So that's why I want to help," that and that... sense of responsibility and connection she had for being the one to ensoul Drusilla in the first place.
May 5th, 2000
The Initiative
"We're gonna lose the lower levels immediately," Graham said quietly, gesturing around them. "Especially the pit, this area - it's too exposed."
"My thoughts exactly. We need to hold the armory, the control room, the infirmary, and then hope..."
"Hope your girlfriend saves our asses and kills ADAM?"
Riley nodded, "Unless you know how we can stop him? Or how we can convince the Colonel to listen, when we tell him what's about to go down?"
"No clue, Rye, to both," Graham admitted. "Who else do you want to bring in on this?" Riley gave him a list of six names, and Graham nodded along, agreeing with each of them.
"If we had any warning, I'd say we just make sure we're all near the armory at go time, but..." He shook his head.
"Yeah. Well, I can make sure the duty roster puts at least one person in the know on armory detail at all times," Riley pointed out. "How good are you at creatively losing equipment?"
"Could be better," Graham shook his head, but went on, naming one of the six men Riley had just listed: "But Davidson could do it, don't you think?"
"He could. Stash it here, easy to grab when things go down... give anyone here on the lower level a chance to regroup and run..." Riley mused. "Anyone who's in the cell block area is dead, the second this goes down. And there's no way we can make sure the place is empty."
"Nope," Graham agreed quietly.
That was the worst part of all this, both of them knew that. There was no way to prevent or even limit casualties. Just contain them, Riley knew. Goddamnit, Colonel. If they'd had a smarter CO, or one that was at least willing to listen to reason...
Dr. Angleman might listen to him, though. If they could keep the scientists out of the line of fire, that could make this a bit easier, save more lives... But was it worth the risk? Would Angleman rat him out?
How much time to do we actually have for me to work this out?
May 5th, 2000
Brennan and Kelly's, Sunnydale
The place was a pale imitation of the real pubs back home, or like the Irish Pubs it pretended to be one of, but it was the only place where Wesley could get a pint of Guinness in the entire town of Sunnydale, which meant he visited the place semi-regularly, when he had a free moment and needed a drink stronger than tea that wasn't scotch.
He couldn't go to any other place, or he'd be stuck drinking the blasted piss Americans thought passed for beer.
"Wesley," Wesley looked up from the pint he'd been slowly nursing - he just wanted to take the edge off, not get drunk - and saw Mr. Giles standing by the booth he'd situated himself in. "I suppose it makes sense you'd come here too."
"Only place for anything worth drinking," Wesley agreed. He gestured at the seat across from him. "You're welcome to join me."
"Seems as good a plan as any," Giles agreed, sitting down and taking a sip from his own drink. "Any particular thing that's driven you to drink, or just the usual?"
"The usual?"
"Oh, you know," Giles gestured vaguely, "the grindstone of being a Watcher to a barely out of her teenage years girl, having to handle the relationship drama of these young Americans, and put up with their mangling of the Queen's English. That sort of thing."
Wesley chuckled, "When you put it like that..." He chuckled again as another thought occurred,"I think your Buffy mangles the language more, with her 'California-speak'. Though Faith is far more vulgar about it."
"And I have to put up with more of the children than you do - you just have Faith and Amy to deal with. Whereas I have Buffy, Willow, Xander and Cordelia. I really do have it worse than you," Giles raised his glass to eye-level, smiling. "Cheers," he lowered it a bit and took a deep drink from it.
"Cheers," Wesley agreed with a smirk. "On the other hand, while I wouldn't call Miss Summers a beacon of obedience, she's far more cooperative than Faith. Bribery seems to be sometimes the only effective option with her."
"Not exactly how either of us expected being a Watcher to go when we were at the Academy, is it?" Giles added, his laugh not quite bitter, but certainly a little humorless in its undertones.
"Not even close," Wesley agreed. "On the positive side, that bloody pillock Travers is out of favor with the Council thanks to the whole mess with the Gem of Amarra, so we don't have to put up with him expecting everything to go as it's 'supposed to'." Proving that he really had spent too much time with Faith, Wesley added air quotes to those last two words.
"It is an improvement," Giles agreed. "Cheers to his misery in whatever hole they've reassigned him to, after he finished with the warlocks at Tunguska," Giles held up his glass.
"I'll drink to that," Wesley clinked his glass against Giles's.
"So how are things going with your Slayer, then?" Giles asked, setting his drink down and leaning back.
"Well enough. Better than this time last year. Better than six months ago. Risking - and then losing - my job over warning her about the Gem being stolen raised my esteem in Faith's eyes quite a bit. Though I still can't tell if she respects me at all, or just tolerates me most of the time," Wesley laughed quietly.
"You know, it's funny," He went on, "When I initially saw how you were with Buffy - how you care for her like a father does for a daughter, I thought it was a failing. It's not - not exactly - but I comforted myself with the knowledge that since I wasn't actually old enough to be Faith's father, I wouldn't have to worry about that. No chance of me falling into the trap that 'risked your disgrace' and all that tosh Travers had me believing." It was hard for Wesley to believe that just under two years ago, he'd been an ardent support of Travers and firmly in agreement with so many of the man's ideas and beliefs.
What an idiot I was.
"And now?"
"I still don't think there's anything paternal in how I feel about Faith, but it's certainly more than just a Watcher to a Slayer. Not friendly - but more..." Wesley shrugged, "Perhaps an older brother? I'm not entirely sure. I suppose it's best I wasn't her Watcher in Boston and feeling like this, because I suspect I'd have a powerful urge to beat up some of her ex-boyfriends, if some of the things she's said are anything to go by."
"Well, that and Kakistos probably would have killed me."
"Always something. But that's our lot as Watchers," Giles commented grimly, and Wesley nodded. "To our Slayers," the older Watcher raised his glass again and Wesley followed suit.
The lot of Watchers indeed.
May 6th, 2000
Private Room, Sunnydale Library
"The short version is that we have nothing," Amy said, playing her hand across her forehead as she let out an exasperated groan.
"I wouldn't say we have nothing," Willow protested, but Amy shook her head.
"Willow, we have nothing. Nothing that's feasible, anyway."
"Well, what are your 'unfeasible' plans?" Xander asked. Once more, the whole group was gathered to come up with some... plan for how to defeat ADAM. Minus Riley, of course. And despite his repeated attempts, Xander hadn't been able to warn Buffy about the control chip Riley had that ADAM was apparently going to make use of.
At least he's not going to use it when Riley's in the middle of the battle. Seems like he wants the guy intact, to 'upgrade' him into some kind of thing like him. Which was a hell of a lot worse than killing him, but as long as Riley stayed away from ADAM...
Of course, he's got a whole legion of minions ready to grab the guy.
Fuck.
"A stupid idea is better than none," Faith agreed. "I mean, stupid ideas is how we ended up knowing ADAM's plan at all, right?" She looked over at Buffy when she said that, who nodded in agreement.
"Pretty much," Buffy let out an aggravated sigh. "So, stupid ideas, what are they?"
"Well, there's that flypaper one..." Willow started, "but that one... we'd need to prepare the ground with the spell and the ingredients ahead of time, then get him onto it and then cast a final spell..." She trailed off.
"That's - that's where most of our ideas fall apart," Tara added, speaking up.
"We'd need to be right up in his face to cast pretty much every spell that we could come up with." Amy went on, starting to tick them off: "Seizing up his mechanical parts, some sort of bubble of force - that one would require a whole lot of power to maintain for any length of time - just bombarding him with fireballs, and whatever else we can come up with until he dies the conventional way - blinding him so it would be easier to fight him - and those are just the ones that we could actually probably pull off."
"He moves fast, from what you two said." Xander shrugged.
"Sounds like what you need is a way to, like... combine the Witches and the Slayers?" Cordelia snarked, obviously not intending it as a serious suggestion, but Giles perked up at her words.
"That actually could work, Cordelia," he stood, about to pace. "There's a spell - it's risky and delicate, but it can be used to enjoin -"
"No, that one won't work," Tara said, with some firmness.
When it comes to magic, she really does know her stuff, Xander considered as Giles raised an eyebrow.
"You know of it?" the Watcher asked.
"I do... I actually thought of it last night, but... all three of us... Willow, Amy and me, w-we're already linked, mystically s-speaking. Not in the same way, but it would interfere with the - with the enjoining spell."
Oh, that was right - Willow was linked to Tara and Amy... it was how they'd found her in the Initiative, how they'd known she was in danger. I never did ask what the deal with that was? Is it just some sort of witch coven thing you do?
Xander shrugged mentally. Not a priority right now.
"Well, where the fuck does that leave us?" Faith grumbled. "Adam wiped the floor with us, the last time - he's fast, he's strong, he's too smart for a fucking trap..."
"No Big Bad we've ever gone up against has been unbeatable," Buffy disagreed. "We can figure out a way."
"If he was just a bit slower, you could like, tag-team him, or something," Xander mused aloud. "Like in comic books - when you've got the big strong enemy who moves slow, two faster heroes work together, take turns distracting and beating him up and all that. But from what you guys said... that wouldn't work."
"Yup. Tried that." Buffy shook her head. "He's as fast as we are, and stronger than either of us."
"But not stronger than both of you," it didn't mean much, but it meant there had to be a way that two Slayers could work together to beat him, right?
"Well, no..." Buffy agreed.
"That..." Tara said, then shook her head. "No... that wouldn't possibly-" Everyone's eyes were on Tara, and she shrunk a little in her chair. Xander saw Willow reach over and put her hand on Tara's shoulder, giving her a supportive squeeze.
So Tara cleared her throat and started to elaborate, "There's a spell - take two witches - or warlocks - from a family that has a whole line of spellcasters going back generations. You can channel the power - the power of your- your entire family line of witches into the two who are at the heart of the spell. The Slayer line... how many Slayers have there been?"
"There's no way of knowing for sure," Wesley said. "The Council's records are, ah, imperfect before the last three hundred years or so - Slayers missing, or unknown to the Council, that sort of thing becomes more and more common the further back you go..."
"Well over three, even four thousand, I'd guess," Giles added. "We don't even know how old the Slayer line is, but it's known to predate the written word... even if we assumed an average of three years of service for each Slayer, which is admittedly somewhat unrealistic -"
"So, a lot?" Xander interrupted, and the Watchers nodded helplessly.
"It might be possible to... adapt the spell. To work on the 'Slayer Lineage'..."
Willow's eyes widened, "Tara, that's brilliant!"
"What's the catch?" Xander asked straightaway. "This is magic we're talking about - so something that useful has to have a catch, right?"
Tara nodded, "The spell only lasts for... six hours at most, and then you'll fall asleep for 48 hours..." She cleared her throat and went on, hesitant once more, a little quieter: "and have nonstop nightmares of how everyone you called on died for the whole time."
"So... nothing major then," Faith rolled her eyes. "Okay, I say we go for it. Make it work for Slayers, and... well, hey, I suppose I could use a long nap after we kick ADAM's ass."
"This is powerful - and risky - magic, Faith," Wesley cautioned her. "I wouldn't just caveliarily volunteer to-"
"You got any better ideas, Wes?"
Sighing, Wesley shook his head at Faith's question. "I suppose not, no."
"Stupid idea time, then?" Xander asked, and no one else had any objections they could actually raise.
"Not a stupid idea, sounds like... just... really risky." Buffy took a breath, then added, with false cheeriness, "What are a few... thousand more nightmares? Sounds like a normal week in Sunnyhell." She nodded towards Tara. "Let's go with it."