"The time for action is past! Now is the time for senseless bickering!" ― Ashleigh Brilliant
"What will happen to Ianara?" Cordelia asked. "For shooting Wilkins, I mean?"
Dude raised his eyebrows, looking at her curiously. "Why? Should something happen to her?"
"Well, uh," Cordelia said. She looked back at him, a bit nonplussed, it seemed. "I mean, no! But... She did shoot him down in cold blood, in front of witnesses. Isn't that murder?"
Dude nodded, looking thoughtful. "Yeah. Technically. But hell, I didn't see anything. And I'm pretty sure that you won't find anyone in that office who saw anything of the kind."
Cordelia gave him her most brilliant smile. "Softy," she said. "Soft as a marshmallow, where it counts."
"Hey, now," Dude said. "Don't get all insulting on me. I'll take your badge away."
"Sir. Yes sir, Mister Marshall Dude, sir!" Cordelia said, her voice soft and mocking. "Well, good. I'm not going to let that happen. I so didn't spend all that time taking care of her and trying to figure out how to get us both out alive just to let some stupid judge decided she needs a rope or- or a prison cell."
"Doubt seriously you'd get 'cold blood' out of that, anyway," Vince said. He shifted a bit more comfortably and began to roll a cigarette.
Dude nodded, sipping his coffee. "She looked pretty terrified, and then pretty shocked at what happened, for all of me. And I doubt you'd get any jury to call it murder once they heard what she and you went through, even leaving out all the weird crap."
"Damn straight," Cordelia said, nodding firmly. Her expression became curious. "So... Dude Morgan, huh? What's the first name? Or is 'Dude' it?"
Xander looked up, his curiosity suddenly aroused and his attention riveted.
Dude stared at her, hard. "Not gonna ask who let that slip. Probably Wilkins," he said. "And, no. Who the hell names their kid 'Dude'?"
"So, 'Dude'," Cordelia said, "The hell is it, then? Now I'm seriously curious."
"Give it up," Xander suggested. "She'll be like a wolf with an itch it can't reach, now." Cordelia gasped, pretending shock, and leaned over to swat him.
Dude sighed. "I expect you're right about that," he said. "But – goes no farther." He glared at the few people left in the room. Everyone held hands up in surrender, or made cross their heart motions.
Everyone being, basically, him, Cordy, Dude, Vince, Giles, Glenn, and Kevin at this point. And Darlene. Vince with his bandaged leg up on a pillow stretched out on a couch, looking awfully comfortable with his head pillowed in Darlene's lap.
Speaking of, Dude raised an eyebrow at the saloon girl, and she held up her hands.
"Hey, girl in my business learns to keep a secret," Darlene said. "You wouldn't believe how much stuff we pick up about people, or what's said in front of us. And it's usually not healthy repeating any of it..." Dude nodded after a moment.
"Van. Short for Vancel," Dude said.
"Vancel Morgan?" Cordelia said, her eyebrows rising. "That's the big secret? But... Vancel's not so bad!"
"Hey, it was when I was a kid trying to be a hard case," Dude said. "Besides, I've kind of gotten to like 'Dude' these last twenty five or so years."
"Jeeze. Men," Cordelia said, rolling her eyes. "All little boys at heart."
The seven of them were sprawled out in the big family room of the Marshall's Office. Xander and Cordy and Vince were drinking coffee with a splash each of Rory's good Irish Whiskey, and Dude had coffee. And a single beer, before that. Kevin and Glenn each had a tall scotch and soda. Bishop, Jules, and Finney had long since sacked out once the prisoners were settled.
"Hey, I understand," Kevin said. "I've been trying to acquire a nickname for fifteen years now."
"You mean, something other than 'hey you'?" Glenn said.
"Or if it's Cordy, then: 'oh, you shut up'," Vin said. She glared at him, raising an eyebrow, and then burst out giggling. "Which gets kind of unwieldy for a nickname."
.
John T. and Elena had headed off for the hotel. Presumably, so that Chance could check under that serape... Elena seemed pretty comfortable under the big man's arm, too.
Cordelia had gotten a bath. So had Xander, helping her scrub bits of Stillwell's gunman off of her. They almost didn't come back out... Cordy was now wearing a pair of dark brown leather jeans, a red tank top, and a pale, off white doeskin shirt tied off just above her navel. Looking seriously yummy.
Once prisoners had been checked and settled in and Aaron had taken Ianara to Doc Jaansen's to be checked out, Dude had sent Chollo and Heidi along with Stein's two younger deputies to help with – and watch over – the search of Wilkins' Manor for evidence. Even with him gone, with all this, evidence was still going to be needed for the State and Federal Marshall and Ranger investigation, and the County Inquiry. Dude wanted to make sure nothing uh, went away.
Honestly? With the cold eyed Chollo and the somewhat terrifying Heidi watching every move, he kinda doubted that was gonna be a problem.
Which was kind of the point, he knew.
Before they'd headed out the door, Dude had called out, "Hey, Barrie."
Heidi turned part way back, her eyebrows going up in inquiry.
"You've got that job with me for as long as you want it."
A slow grin spread across Heidi's face. Absolutely the biggest and brightest grin that Xander had ever seen on her, in any reality.
"Really? Hey – I like that."
Before Xander could even get his mouth fully open, Dude had glared at him. "You're still unemployed. Give me that badge back."
"Damn. Really whistles to be you, Boss," Heidi said, still grinning.
Grinning himself, Xander reached up to unpin the star, in preparation for flipping it back to Dude. Dude held up a hand and stopped him. "Oh, hell, Harris, I was just kidding. Don't always take me so seriously."
Xander laughed, pulling his hand away from the badge.
"Seriously on this, though. I just really don't think you're cut out for a career in law enforcement, long term." Dude said.
"Oh yeah?" Cordelia looked at him curiously. "And why not?"
Dude shrugged. "Harris is just too damned independent. And he kills too many people."
"Oh, you're a fine one to talk," Cordelia said. "And you're keeping Heidi? Yeesh. She's a walking homicide factory. Death Incorporated."
"Aw shucks. And I thought those were one of my better qualities," Xander said. "They are Heidi's."
"Oh, it is, and they are. Just not a great quality in a Deputy," Dude said, laughing. "But rest assured, I ever want something demolished, or a town depopulated, you'll be the first I telegraph." He paused, looking at the grinning girl leaning into Xander's arm. "Chase, on the other hand, can be a deputy any time. She'll have to quit getting captured by the bad guys, though."
"Hey! I got myself out of it and arrested Finch, too!"
"You did that thing. You surely did. With a bit of help from Dewell McKay, anyway."
"That's all right," Xander said. "I'm thinking of taking up ranching for a living, anyway. Law Enforcement is a bit too stressful."
"Well, both of you hang on to those for the time being," Dude said. "They'll keep any of Wilkins cronies still left on the current City Council from getting too many ideas, and they'll help us in dealing with the out of towners when they get in."
Stein and Cobb had elected to leave things be for the moment, rather than gathering everyone up and storming the County Building to take it back. They figured that having a day or so to sit and think on everything would cause a lot of Munroe's remaining supporters to decide to cut their losses, making it a much more bloodless process.
Xander thought they were probably right. In fact, after the City Hall blew up and burned down, and seeing that thing towering above it before dragging Wilkins' screaming soul down to Hell where it belonged... he'd bet privately that all except the honestly misled would probably melt away before morning.
And while he never would have thought it in their Sunnydale, he'd also bet that Stein just might make a pretty good Sheriff.
This just might turn out to be a pretty decent little town, once the Hellmouth was gone...
.
"So... Think you'll have any problems when the U.S. Marshall and State Marshall get in?" Kevin asked. He still had his badge pinned to the front pocket of his black suit. As did Glenn, on the front of his denim work shirt.
Dude shrugged. "No idea," he said. "Everything was more or less legal, with you all being volunteer deputies, especially since we seem to have most of the townspeople on our side. And you can bet that if Wilkins did have anyone in the Governor's office and State Legislature in his pocket or among his cronies, they'll do what they can to cover themselves."
"And they're probably going to be crapping bricks, once they hear about this and that we have Finch in a cell," Cordelia said.
"No doubt they will," Giles said. "And no doubts that he probably had some. The influential and powerful always seem to have had a tendency to gravitate towards the darker arts in search of yet more power and influence."
Glenn shook his head, looking disgusted. "You'd think with all the advantages they already have, that'd be enough."
"Never seems to be," Dude said, shrugging. "Whatever evidence gets dug up out at Wilkins' and at Finch's place will no doubt help."
"There may, doubtless, be some evidence that you may not wish to have presented to an official inquiry, however," Giles said.
Everyone nodded. They'd all been appraised of Cordelia and Ianara's experiences with Wilkins as his captives. And no one wanted to be the one to tell a group of skeptical state or federal officers about what really happened to City Hall...
"Speaking of," Dude said, looking at him curiously, "You really think you can put that thing under the Mission to rest?"
"Certainly," Giles said, nodding. "It would be different had Wilkins managed to activate it, of course. Whilst an active Hellmouth can be closed or sealed, perhaps, with great difficulty, it tends to have... deleterious effects on the surrounding area."
"Deleterious?"
"Oh, massive earthquakes, volcanic activity, and suchlike," Giles said, making a negligent gesture, "Such as at Pompeii. And in San Francisco during one of its more major upheavals. O-or the Great Chicago Fire of 1871..."
"Wait – Chicago had one of those things?" Dude's eyes widened, and he shook his head, looking disgusted.
"Of course," Giles said. He pulled down his glasses to look at Dude over the top of the frames. "Surely you don't believe that a cow caused all of that? Please. A Wizard of the Council gave her life, as did as a number of High Watchers and a Slayer, to close that one. And that was only a small activated Hellmouth. The one in Sunnydale has the potential to be exceptionally strong."
Everyone blanched at that thought.
"Why thank you, Mr. Giles," Dude said, his tone positively arid. "I know I'll sleep so much better now, knowing that."
Giles shrugged, smiling tightly. "Ignorance can be bliss. Not many people want to know the truth about their world. It is a main reason the Council strives for secrecy."
"Would be a shame if Finch were to get off because no one wants some of this out there," Glenn said, scowling. "There've been a lot of disappearances of young women over the years since Wilkins arrived and Finch hooked up with him."
"Yeah," Vince said. "It's a sure bet that not all of 'em were because of something like Trick, or the Gorch brothers."
Cordelia shivered. "I know that Finch seemed to have a really unhealthy anticipation for my little meeting with Wilkins' patron."
"Well, if the location of Wilkins sacrificial area, or his dumping ground can be prized out of Mr. Finch," Giles said, "Then perhaps enough remains and evidence can be obtained to make certain that he meets a rope, without the need to mention demons and other unsavory topics."
"Well, that would be nice," Dude said. "Not looking forward to trying to explain what Wilkins was. Not sure I understand what Wilkins was."
"Freaking unhinged, is what he was," Cordelia said.
"Quite. Regardless," Giles said, "We should be able to err, quiet and lock down the inactive Hellmouth here, even if it can't be completely sealed beyond any possibility of eventual activation. But sealing it even for the duration of our, or Mr. Harris' and Miss Chase's, lifetimes, will be a worthy accomplishment in and of itself."
"So, is Bianca the inactive and prospective Slayer you were sent here to watch over?" Xander asked, lifting an eyebrow.
Giles spluttered and fumbled his glasses before catching them and glaring at him. "Why, err, uh... Good Lord – you really are a Council Special Operative, aren't you?" Cordelia stared at Xander, both of her eyebrows beginning to ascend to new heights.
Xander shrugged, just smiling slightly. "Maybe, maybe not."
"We are so going to have a long, long talk, Goof Boy," Cordelia said, shaking her head.
Sigh. At least the comment hadn't come with the 'Dreaded Whole Name Complete With Narrowed Eyes And Tapping Foot'... he shuddered. Or worse yet: the 'Ominous Punctuation of Emphasis': 'Alexander LaVelle Harris. What. Have. You. Been. Doing?!'
It was coming down the line though. He was sure of it – he could see it in Cordelia's eyes. Oh well.
"Okay, so what are you grinning at, Lamer?" Cordelia asked, her eyes narrowing suspiciously at him.
"Nothing dear," Xander said, "Really." He nodded, putting on his best serious and innocent expression. "Long talk, soonest. Check."
He was pretty sure she wasn't buying it...
.
Settling in after the bath, Xander hoisted his new acquisition from across his lap. "Lookit what Wilkins gave me, honey. Isn't it pretty?"
Cordelia shook her head, looking over and smiling. "Groovy, Ash. Now you won't have to borrow mine all the time."
"And mine is hammerless," Xander said. He raised an eyebrow. "Groovy?"
Cordelia nodded. "I found out that that movie quote thing is fun. Ask me about it later."
"Ah. I will do that."
It was a nice Sauer & Sohn drilling, like Cordelia's. Only this one was two .400 caliber barrels over a single twelve gauge, rather than a double twelve over a rifle barrel like hers. That was all right. Xander kind of preferred a rifle to a shotgun, anyway. He could probably remember the technical name for that combination if he wanted, but he didn't really care.
"A pity that Dude is confiscating all of those captured guns, except for Heidi's," Cordelia said, sticking her lower lip out.
"What, your collection there's not enough?" Vince said, a slow smile growing on his lips.
Cordelia's collection was currently spread out on the seven foot diameter varnished tree trunk section slab table in one corner. It was... impressive. Especially for someone who'd started out captured and unarmed except for two hideaway knives before going collecting.
She was currently examining her nice, elegant, new scoped single shot Stevens Model 44, with her new 1895 Winchester leaning against her armchair.
"Oh, please," she said. "It's a Harris Clan Tradition to come back with a herd of horses, a wagon load of guns, and a herd of cows."
"And bodies draped over saddles," Xander said. Cordelia leaned over and thumped him on the arm and stuck her tongue out at him.
"Well, you got the string of ponies, sure enough," Dude said. "And selling off that wagon load of guns and horses belonging to Stillwell and Maitland's hands is going to help fund this office and pay people for the next month or so until a reliable and honest City Council gets on the ball." He grinned, and added, "At least once all of us get their pick of the cream."
"I can just see Barrie now," Vince said. "She'll have so many just awful sweet new rifles she won't be able to choose."
That got laughter all around.
They'd have to wait to see if McKay was going to make it. But Chance assured them he was as tough as an old boot heel, and with the constitution of a buzzard. At least they were sure now that Brett was going to survive. And Rory had said that Tor was coming along well.
Not too many casualties, all things considered. They'd lost a few Lazy-H and Star-C hands, and around a dozen townspeople. And a lot of wounded. Doc Jaansen was working overtime.
The Doc had made Cordelia beam when he'd sent back compliments on her treatment for Ianara's blood loss. Groovy.
.
Before heading off, William Randolph Chase had called Cordelia off to the side, with Xander trailing along. If Cordy wanted privacy for this, she could say so. If she didn't, and Chase did, well... fuck him.
He didn't and she didn't, and Xander leaned unobtrusively in a doorway while they talked quietly.
"I want you to not be a stranger, Cordelia," Chase had said. "Come up to the Star-C sometime soon for an extended visit, and bring your young man. And maybe ride up with Elena, if she wants to."
Cordelia cocked her head, eying him speculatively. "That's a switch," she said. "I was under the distinct impression that the Chase family didn't have much use for the Chase bastard children. Much meaning 'none'."
William Randolph winced, and spread his hands. "I am not my older brother or my father, either of them. And I run the Star-C and Chase Holdings now. I say who is family and who isn't. You are... if you want to be."
Cordelia looked at him for a long time, and then smiled slowly. "All right. But I warn you. I'm not giving up Rory, Bethany, and Sarah. They're my real parents here."
Xander caught the subtle emphasis on 'here', even if Chase didn't. And he at least knew what she meant.
"Well, I think I can live with that," Chase said, easily. "Especially considering that young Alexander is soon to be my nephew in law. And Rory's all right, for an uncouth barbarian – I suspect that we'll have no real problems being one big, feuding, extended family."
"Not too much feuding."
Chase shook his head, grinning. "Oh, hell no. Rory Harris is way too good and way too fast with a Winchester and those Remingtons for my comfort."
.
Xander had expected to suddenly find them fading out and waking up on the couch at Cordelia's house, once Wilkins had been put paid to. So had she, she'd confided during the bath. When it didn't happen, they looked at each other, and shrugged.
Cordelia seemed pretty comfortable with that.
Of course, Cordelia had already stated at least once that she didn't have any real issues with staying in this world and time if it worked out that way. Personally, Xander gave that until about the first time she had a toothache or fully realized what childbirth without modern, late twentieth century medicine meant...
For himself? As he'd told her once recently, he'd already decided: Home was where Cordelia was. Turn of the century or the late, late Twentieth; their world or the Wild Wild West That Never Was.
He felt as if he'd hit upon a profound truth maybe at a lot earlier of an age than a lot of guys: home is where she is, whether that's a mansion or a dirt floored hovel. Doesn't matter. And where she isn't... is no place at all.
Always assuming you manage to find the right 'she'. And that she wants you back.
He kind of figured he had. And that she maybe kind of did.
Of course, it had only taken them almost thirteen years, a lot of miles and death, and a change of worlds to figure that out. Xander thought he should have way back when he was five and they'd first met right after she'd accidentally broken Willow's crayon. And then had scrunched up her nose at him and informed him that he had to be an Alex because 'Xander' was a stupid name.
They'd argued and fought over that for three years, until the beginning of third grade, when they'd found other things to fight over. Never should have happened...
Oh well. His dad had always said he was kind of slow in some areas.
.
Speaking of family, Rory had already taken off for the Sunnydale Arms by then, planning to head back to the Lazy-H in the morning. But not before he'd thrown an arm around Xander's shoulders and looked down at him sternly and said, "You are gonna make an honest woman out of that girl soon now, aren't you?"
"She's already way too honest, sir," Xander said. "But I am planning to marry her, if that's what you mean." Cordelia's eyebrows lifted, and he winked at her. "I'm thinking an October the thirty-first wedding. Seems appropriate, and it'll give Vin time to heal up real good, since he's going to be best man. And Dewell, so he can be there as well."
Vince smiled slowly. "Well, as long as I get asked, anyway. A boy likes to be asked."
A brightly smiling Cordelia noticed all of the interested attention they were suddenly getting, and turned that thousand watt smile on John T. "Which means Chance there is going to have to stay around for a while," she said. "Considering that he'll be giving the bride away."
Elena laughed at John T.'s pole-axed expression. "I think that means he'll be happy to."
"Well, hell, Little Missy," John T. said, a slow smile breaking across that craggy face. "I think I'd be purely honored. But shouldn't Hoss here have first claim on that?" He gestured to Rory with his whiskey glass.
"Rory will understand," Cordelia said. "He has daughters of his own to marry off."
"I surely do," Rory said. "And a real dearth of suitable husband material around. Might have to send off for some of them mail order fiancees."
"Hell," John T. drawled, putting an arm around Elena. "Might even make it a double wedding, and I can find a suitable girl."
"I am already an honest woman, John," Elena said. "I don't need a ring to prove it."
"Well, maybe I do, you ever think about that?"
.
"So, the Maitland kid is going to hang, probably," Cordelia said, sighing.
"Most likely," Dude said, "Maybe. Him being willing to take one hell of a major risk to help shut down his old man, Stillwell, and Wilkins, and to help make up for his part in Brett's shooting and Melody Kendall's death should count for something."
"Did take a lot of guts," Xander said.
"Hah. And for a long while, I so thought I was wearing part of them," Cordelia said. She scrunched her nose up. "Eww."
"Even if not, probably be a short stretch in prison, anyway," Vince said. "What's left of Wilkins cronies will want someone to fall, and if they can't have us..."
Kevin nodded. "I'd keep a close eye on Finch, Dude. Be a shame for him to eat a bullet before he can stand trial in Sacramento."
"Oh, gods," Cordelia said. "I so thought we were done with hiding out here and getting shot at."
"We are," Dude said, smiling. "With Maitland and Stillwell gone, and all of the professionals out of play excepting us, there's no one left that has what it takes for straight up gunplay."
"Oh. Well, good," Cordelia said.
"Might be just as well on that, too," Dude said. "I'm thinking the days of wild and loose gunslinging law like John T. and I spent most of our lives practicing, off and on, are coming to an end."
"Too bad," Cordelia said. "And in a way, maybe, kind of good, too." When everyone looked at her, she shrugged and said, "Not a lot of men like you and John T. left. And Vin, and Kev, and Glenn, either. And there's so a lot of people that you don't want playing free and fancy with a badge, because they can't be trusted with any kind of power."
"Then they shouldn't have the badge," Vince said.
"Or the judgment calls," Xander said. "But they will." He quietly sipped at his semi Irish Coffee, smiling slightly.
Privately, he didn't think it'd be that easy, or that simple. He could pull a dozen names from his real Uncle Rory's collection, names like Tom Threepersons, Eliot Ness, Bill Jordan, Skelton, and others, that had done the wild and loose law thing pretty well even into the late Twentieth. He didn't think it was going away any time soon.
And maybe that was ok, too.
But... he did have a hard time seeing Dude, John T. Chance, and Vin fitting into the overly civilized California that he and Cordy had grown up in. Probably a good thing they wouldn't make it there.
He kind of doubted that they'd like it, any more than it would like them.
SoCal, and the Wild Wild East, had always kind of liked their rough and tumble and fiercely independent heroes up on the Silver Screen where they belonged. They made people nervous when they were out walking around in reality, bigger than life and twice as rough hewn. And twice as honest...
Maybe it was just as well, too, in other areas.
Somehow, he didn't think him and Cordelia would fit in back in twenty-first century America real well any more, either.
As if she was reading his mind, Cordelia suddenly yawned right about at the same time he did. They exchanged looks, grinning.
"And on that note, I so think I'm done," she said.
"Or done in, yup," Xander said.
Cordelia looked at him, seriously, nibbling at her lower lip. "I do hope you're not really set on much of anything, Goof. I'm so exhausted I think I'll just barely make it to the hotel to see if Haversham has a room for us."
"I'll manage," Xander said. "I'm kind of easy that way. Besides, you can lean on me now."
"I noticed."
That smile was just as bright as the sun.
.