Elsie

The worst part of it was how tired I was all the time, really. Even after a couple hours nap, I was feeling that same dragging, draining weakness pulling at me, settling into my bones. Not that I'd slept particularly well, as my imagination had come up with all sorts of possibilities for what Mendel might be going through. She was supposed to be me, so I shouldn't worry that much. It's not like I've ever wanted to hurt Mendel, but… well, there are a lot of things that don't hurt that still might not be healthy, and she was obviously up to something. I couldn't help but worry.

The door to my room opened, and I looked over from the couch I'd plopped down on to see Nick. He looked freshly-showered and a little tired, but… content in a way I didn't often see. Crossing the room, he sat down next to me, looking out the window at the skyline.

"Have fun playing with the big kids?" I asked. My smile felt oddly weak, like tea that hadn't steeped long enough. It must not have looked any better, because Nick didn't rise to the bait, just gave me a look.

"Don't snow me, Elsie, I know you better than that."

A spurt of irritation flared and died. "You just don't get it," I muttered. I sounded like a sulky teenager even to myself. He snorted.

"What don't I get? That some asshole kidnapped you and tried to brainwash you into a minion, which let out the side of you you're usually doing your best to sit on and now it's trying to take over the world?"

I had to laugh. "Well, when you put it like that…"

"How bad is it?"

"How bad is what?" There were a lot of things that were bad right now, I honestly wasn't sure which one he was asking about.

"The energy drain. Those readings on Mendel's scanner-cam were stronger than they should have been for half of your soul, and you've been noticeably pale and way too quiet."

I sighed, hugging myself. "It's… it's not good, I'm tired all the time, but it's at… bad cold or mild flu. Not chronic fatigue, overdrawn at the energy bank stuff. What's worse is how… gray I feel. I'm afraid for Mendel, I'm still pissed at Preloran even though he's dead, but all of it's… washed out and mild. No strength to it."

He just nodded. "Unsurprising, you tend to repress most of your emotional expression. Dr. Elsie Chapman has three modes– cheerful, snarky, and angry. And usually there's some snark mixed in even with the other two. Fear, vulnerability, and of course, how much you care about Mendel– you always shoved those down under a cover. Now she's got them, and you've got pale echoes."

"Thank you very much, Sigmund Freud," I snapped, but there wasn't any heat there.

"You know, I get the rest of it. Given the work we do, and of course, the issues with idiots in academia, especially the sciences, you had to present as bullet-proof to be taken seriously. But Randy's right, everyone can see how you feel about Mendel except you. Even Mendel can see it, which may be why he's so patient with the way you kind of dance around him like a seventh-grader with her first crush. But you're a grown woman, and he's definitely not your first relationship by a long shot. So why?"

I sighed. "I… Do you know, one of the reasons Larry and I got engaged was the fact that he was there? Okay, wait, that sounds wrong. I mean he was there, he showed up, he took me to movies, we had conversations, he was actually interested in me. It wasn't enough, the birds were still more important, but it was still more than I'd had from any dates since my senior prom. Most of the time, guys met me, then they met Catherine and… well, if you're going to go after a Chapman girl, the difference is clear."

A snort. "Elsie. The first time we met your family, Mendel 'misremembered' your sister's name as Karen for a week. And I don't think she ever realized he was doing it on purpose. I think it was pretty clear which of you he was more impressed with."

"... That was definitely one for the scrapbooks," I admitted. I knew Mendel could be catty and petty, witness two years of a running prank war with Randy. And hell, it was honestly one of the things I loved about him– apparently I had a thing for guys with well-buried nasty streaks. ... oh hell.

"Nick. You need to start watching your back," I told him, sitting up straighter. "I'm thinking it would be a good idea not to be alone until we get this straightened out."

One brown eyebrow arched. "Because?"

"Because I didn't just flirt with you to make Audrey's head explode. That was a side benefit. I like you, a lot, and God knows you're hot, and… I hate to say this, but you're a better catch and a bigger challenge than Mendel was. I know people aren't trophies, damn it, but–"

"But you shoved it down and away, because like you said, people aren't trophies," he finished. "I get it. So what, she might go after me for her harem?"

I rolled my eyes. "Slow down there, Hugh Hefner. I mean, yes, that's possible, but also, she can't just be the parts I repressed or she wouldn't be a functional personality. Some stuff has to be shared. Like how much I care about all of you. Besides, if I were trying to take over the world, I'd want you by my side just to plan it."

"Oh great, right hand to the bad guy again," he complained. "Why do people keep trying to stuff me into that role?"

"Uh, because you're a good tactician, an amazing leader, and a ruthless son of a bitch? Just a guess there."

Now it was his turn for the eye-roll. "Thanks, Elsie. So you think she's after world conquest?"

I had to think about that. "Yes," I said finally, "but as a side-benefit. Nick, you said it yourself, the Hivemind are going to be back. We all know it. She probably knows it better than anyone. And given what she said to Preloran, I doubt she plans to give the planet over without a fight. I'm guessing she found something in those computers, something about Monster Island. I almost remember… when we were all controlled, there was something about why they picked it for a base, when it's so inconvenient to reach. Something…"

"Maybe Monique can help dig it out," he suggested. "I know she's planted at least one failsafe in your head already."

Yeah, because he'd triggered it and I'd damn near shot him. That had been fun for all concerned, not.

"Maybe," I sighed, levering myself to my feet. "And we can ask her what she got out of the Ghostbusters while we're at it."

He stood as well, just close enough to grab if I went over, but not trying to carry or support me just yet. I took his arm– at this point, I was too tired to care about my pride. He squeezed my wrist as we headed out.

As ways of dealing with my neuroses went, this one really, really sucked.

Doyle

Well, at least the nap seemed to have helped some. Oh, the lady was still pale and wobbly, leanin' on Nick like he was a crutch, but she had some color to her cheeks, at least. I could kinda relate, the aftermath of a vision had a tendency to leave me too wiped out to so much as armwrestle a kitten. Paw-wrestle? Whatever.

Oddly enough, I hadn't had one of those since the day HEAT hit town, and I wasn't sure whether I was appreciative of that or not. On the one hand, no head-splittin' pain. On the other, nothing telling us where people who needed our help were. On the other other hand, I was thinking that the people who needed our help were right here. HEAT dealt with world-ending matters as it was. One of their own splitting off a dark side that had access to psychic powers and alien tech seemed like something a Champion or three might be needed to assist with.

Angel and Faith were looking like a pair of well-fed cats after their sparring session, although Angel had a bruise coming up on one cheek that he kept poking at. Not surprising, vamps don't bruise the way humans… and apparently functional hanyou… do. Faith slapped at his hand without even looking in his direction.

"Cut it out, boss, you're worse than a toddler."

"Your exercising went well, I see," Wes commented, amused.

Faith snorted. "They ganged up on me, it was great. For a scientist, dude's got some pretty good moves with a sword."

"You two are still light-years better than me," Nick replied, but he looked almost as content. Then his expression blanked for a second before he started laughing.

"What's so funny, jefe?" Randy inquired, as he booted up his laptop.

Rubbing the back of his neck, Nick made a wry face. "Uh, Godzilla was watching through the bond. He… has sort of odd ways of looking at things, you might have noticed?"

"Just a bit, yeah," Elsie drawled. "So?"

"Basically he gave me an image of a Godzilla hatchling being taught to hunt by a couple of adults. In human terms, I think it translates to 'You're doing great, sweetie.'"

Cripes, now I was imagining a twenty-story lizard wearing that indulgent expression lions get in the nature specials when their cubs are pouncing tails. It was a bit freaky, to be honest.

"Godzilla as soccer mom. I'll take 'terrifying images I never knew existed' for five hundred, Alex," commented Randy, making a face.

At that point, Fred and Monique came back in and the meeting got down to business.

"So what did you get from GBI?" Nick asked. Angel seemed content to let him take the lead on this, probably because it was his guy that was missing.

"Definitely an ecto-projection," Fred confirmed. "Kinda like a familiar, except it's psychic, not magical. The important thing, according to Ray, is that she's physically identical to you, and psychic abilities are due to atypical neural connections in the brain. So if she's got those powers, you do too. They may be weak, given the repression, but they're there. Which might be useful, since the only way to stop her is gonna be reabsorbing her."

Elsie rubbed her face. "Great. Any way I can do that without spending the next twenty years in psychotherapy?"

"Some," Monique replied. "There are a number of possibilities, all very nebulous right now. Dr. Venkman cautioned that she is likely to have a bit of a… how do you say, god complex? As a result of the sudden unlocking of her abilities, combined with the fact that she quite likely harbors a good deal of resentment and rage."

"Also a lot of 'I'll show them, I'll show them all,'" sighed Elsie. "I'm kind of aware I got through most of my grad school career on spite and defiance. I thought I grew out of that… now I'm thinking it's more I got better at ignoring it."

Before any of us could respond to that, Randy looked at his laptop screen and said something in Spanish that had Angel actually double-take.

"You kiss your grandmother with that mouth?"

"Man, where do you think I learned it?" the kid shot back, but it was obvious only half of his attention was on us as his fingers flew over the keyboard.

Nick moved to look over his shoulder, all intent predator now. I could see the resemblance to Faith in some ways, honestly. "What have we got?"

"View from Himawari-5, Japanese weather satellite. It's a little close to the edge of the range, so the picture's a bit wonky, but I've got something flying across the South Pacific Gyre at about a hundred feet above sea level. And doing about five hundred miles an hour."

"Jet planes do that speed, don't they?" I asked.

"Yeah, but they fly a LOT higher. Also, going by the scale? Whatever that thing is, it's the size of a small island."

Angel moved to look over Randy's other shoulder. "What's the bearing?"

"If it keeps on course, it'll hit Monster Island in about an hour and a half," Randy replied. "Kinda doubting that's a coincidence."

"Did you manage to get a view of the island itself?" Monique asked.

He made a face. "Best I could do is grab the output from a couple polar-orbit satellites, so I've got updates every six hours. No major construction, everything's still there, and thermal suggests the force fields are still up, so whatever she's doing with it, it's either not on the surface, or she hasn't started yet."

Nick grimaced. "Wish we had some idea of what her plans were."

The rest of my team were all looking at me, and I shook my head. "Sorry, not a peep."

"Wait, what are you talking about?" Elsie asked.

Now it was my turn to grimace. "I get these visions, y'see. Splittin' great migraines that come with pictures. Downside, it hurts like bugger-all. Upside, we get some warning and a clue on how to go help somebody in trouble."

"Clairvoyance?" Monique's eyebrows shot up.

"Mixed with precognition, as they're usually showing events that have yet to occur– though the time gap isn't always that long," Wes replied. "Supposedly they're a 'gift' from the Powers That Be."

I shrugged. "'Cept I haven't had even a twinge since you guys hit town. It's weird, I've never had a break this long before."

… And now Nick looked sheepish and a little guilty. "Uh… that may kind of be my fault," he admitted.

"You? How?" Angel didn't sound disbelieving, just curious.

"My, uh, godfather is a fae and not exactly enamored with either side in the war going on between the Powers that Be and the… what did he call them? Senior Partners, right."

"Demons called the Senior Partners. Insert your own lawyer jokes here," Randy interjected.

"Anyway, to make a long story short, he granted my mother a favor, she asked him to be my godfather, and so when I was born, he laid a blessing on me. Some of it's gone now, but some of it stayed, and I'm… Basically, where destiny and prophecies are concerned, I'm Teflon. They can't see me, they can't move me."

I could see Wes and Fred both absolutely itching to ask him all the questions ever, but Faith beat them both to the punch.

"So what, you're like, scrambling the vision signal? We control the horizontal, we control the vertical?" She noticed all of us staring at her and blushed. "Hey, look, you're awake at five AM in a shitty hotel room in Detroit, you watch whatever's on."

Nick laughed. "No, you're basically right, it's like a jammer. The Powers are beaming this stuff right into his head, which… the fact that they come with migraines worry me. Pain is the body saying something's wrong."

"Migraines are pretty much considered a neurological disorder right now," Elsie added thoughtfully. "Research is focusing on increased excitability of neurons in the cortex, like… overclocking a computer."

"If the visions are the Powers making your brain hardware do things it's not meant to… That could presage actual damage," Nick agreed.

"Er." Wesley was fiddling with the book in his hands. "I… visionaries and prophets, even accurate ones, are a dime a dozen in Watcher circles, but Doyle's visions are something else. The immediacy, the literal nature of the information conveyed… they are direct messages from the Powers, and there are… records of such."

Randy folded his arms. "And I'm guessing they're not happy stories?"

"The visions are not… kind to human bodies. One young woman in the middle ages suffered a… cranial blowout from the strain."

"An aneurysm?" Monique asked cautiously.

"Rather… more literal. And violent."

I yelped. "Her bloody head exploded?"

He winced and nodded. "She was, however, completely human, according to all records at the time. As a half-demon, you're considerably more resistant to such."

"Christ, somethin' to actually be grateful for about it." Made a nasty kind of sense, though. I'd turned my back on people in trouble 'cause I said it wasn't my problem, so… make it my problem. And if I kept on tryin' to ignore it, well, my head would blow up. One way of getting redemption, I guess.

Angel growled. "Resistant is different from immune. Any way to keep blocking it after you leave?"

"Wait, wait, what? Block it? It's like, our only way of trackin' down half the crap that goes on in this town."

"I don't care, we'll find something else," he shot back. "It's not worth you having a stroke or worse. You've made up for– well. You've paid for any mistakes you've made a hundred times over, Doyle. You don't have to sacrifice yourself to this."

I stopped short. Was that what I was doing? Okay, I'd been a bit shirty when I'd been ready to die taking out the Beacon, only for Fred to come up with the tuning fork at the last second. But I wasn't actually suicidal, or stupid, right?

"Y'said that saving people was real repentance, that dying wasn't what balanced the scales," I said slowly, looking up at him. "And I get that. I just… I don't think I can turn away again, y'know? It's not making up for things, it's… savin' people's important in itself. I'm willin' to take a risk or two for that."

An English-accented voice suddenly whispered in my ear, "Done." At which point my eyes rolled back in my head, and I went down like a pint of Guinness.

Nick

Luckily for Doyle, he'd been leaning against a wall fairly close to Faith, because when he collapsed, she was close enough to catch him and keep him from cracking his head open. Elsie and I moved in as she laid him out on the floor, and the three of us quickly checked him over.

"Pupil dilation's normal," Faith reported, tucking her penlight back into her jeans pocket.

"Pulse is a little elevated, nothing worrying," came from Elsie.

I rested a hand on his chest. "Respiration's a little fast, but again, not worrying. Looks more like… excitement? Surprise? Something like that."

"D-man here doesn't have a history of fainting spells or anything, right?" Faith asked, looking at Angel, who shook his head.

"Not that I know of, anyway. Is he gonna be okay?"

I shook my head. "I don't know, we'll have to figure out what's wrong with him first."

"S'vere lack o' beer," the man in question slurred, eyes fluttering open. Then he winced. "Augh, Christ, turn off the sun, please."

Hands over his eyes, he carefully sat up, helped by Faith's arm around his shoulders. He rubbed at his face for a moment, then took his hands away and carefully opened his eyes again.

"Ooof, shortest hangover I've ever had," he commented, shaking his head.

"What happened?" Fred asked.

Doyle took Angel's offered hand, letting the other pull him up. Elsie, Faith and I joined him.

"Apparently the visions have changed tacks, maybe to get around the block. Dunno. Wasn't any pain, though, just images. A tropical island in the middle of nowhere, as something huge flew overhead, blotting out the sun. A… swear to god, it looked like a giant flying saucer, floatin' in the ocean near a bunch of islands. Three of those whatayacallem, spire-thingies…. Obelisks! Made of crystal, stuck into the ground and glowing blue. The risin' sun just clearin' the top of the saucer. And then Elsie– or, I'm guessing, her Shadow– with what looked like a crown of stars over her head, floatin' and eyes glowing that same blue. Then I was flat out on the floor."

Elsie and I exchanged glances. "You just had an atonic seizure," I said slowly. "That's when basically your muscles just stop working, usually accompanied by a loss of consciousness."

"Seizures aren't damaging in and of themselves, they're usually just worrying because they can be a symptom of other major disorders," Elsie added. "The biggest risk with atonic seizures is usually damage from the fall. You said you'd be open to some risk… maybe something took you up on it."

"Yeah, I heard something say 'done' right before I dropped," he agreed, and I rubbed at my temples.

"Male voice, English accent?"

Doyle blinked. "Uh.. yeah. Upper-class."

"That was probably my godfather. Going to have to have a talk with him when we get back to the city…"

"Hell, if I'm trading killer migraines for a painless drop, I'm okay with that. I don't drive that much anyway. The important thing now is, what the hell did I see?"

Randy looked thoughtful. "You said the energy was blue? Like, sky blue, dark blue, what kind of blue?"

"Like… Spielberg blue, really. Freaky, misty, Close Encounters of the Third Kind stuff."

"Like the energy ball the cult summoned," I realized. "She's going to tap into the planetary energy network."

Faith frowned. "Then why do it here? Isn't Sunny-D the big hotspot?"

"That's exactly why," Elsie said, almost absently. "You don't draw blood from the jugular vein– too much pressure, too much chance of a rupture. You go for another vein, large enough for free flow, small enough it's not a fire hose…" She trailed off, realizing we were all watching her. "What?"

Monique huffed. "I believe we may need to do some digging into your memory, Dr. Chapman."

We got Elsie situated on one of the couches with me beside her holding her hand and Monique crouched in front of her, one hand on the side of Elsie's face.

"You are at the center of the storm, but around you, all is calm. Whatever rages, whatever occurs, it is out there, it is not in there with you. Do you understand?" Monique asked, her voice calm and steady as her fingers tapped a rapid pattern on Elsie's face.

"Yes." Elsie's response was slow and calm, not sleepy or drugged. Monique's "neuro-linguistic programming" made me itch. Hypnosis wasn't fake, but it wasn't nearly as effective as people thought it was. Acupressure was slightly better than pseudo-science, and as for combining the two with word choices… something was off there. I trusted Monique, so I hadn't pushed for more information, but her ability to plant and defuse post-hypnotic suggestions was, I suspected, something she was still bullshitting us about.

"Good. Before you, there is a door. In the door, there is a viewing port, made of unbreakable crystal. You can see in; that which is within cannot reach out. Do you see the door?"

"I… yes. I see it."

Monique squeezed Elsie's other hand. "Good. Step up to it and look within. Search for the memories of Monster Island… of Site Omega."

Elsie shivered a little, and I rubbed my thumb across the back of her hand, just enough to let her feel me there.

"Okay… I see it. There's so much here, but a lot of it's… faded, I can't get a good grip on it. Let's see, Site Omega… oh!"

I felt her stiffen, and then her eyes opened, to focus on Monique. "The Hivemind didn't understand magic, they couldn't accept that it existed. Some sort of giant mental blind spot. But they knew psychic energy, and that's what they read the planet's network as. Site Omega was chosen as the best place to bleed off energy to power ships and factories… but also to start… basically reformatting the planet to their specifications, rather than ours. If the Keystone point in Sunnydale is the heart of the network, pumping energy through it, than Site Omega… Monster Island is where the brain would go."

Randy blanched. "The planet has a brain?"

"Well, there's the Gaia theory, that says organisms and their environment evolve in symbiosis to sort of form one giant organism/being, but that's pretty sketchy science," Elsie replied, leaning against me. "No, the planet doesn't have a brain, more like a– a notochord, a proto-brain. But if you plug a thinking mind into that network right there–"

"Apotheosis." Wesley looked a bit green. "Ascension from human to… well, something akin to a deity."

Faith looked at him in alarm. "Ascension? Didn't the Mayor take, like, a hundred years prep and a chain of deals to do something like that?

Rubbing the bridge of his nose, Wesley nodded. "Yes, but he was going from a fairly standard human being into a pure demon, a Great Old One. Completely purging all native energy from him to become something totally alien. What the Shadow is planning would be a far simpler transformation, merely an increase in power. By an order of magnitude or two, but still, far simpler."

"Damn it," Angel growled. "We need to get out there, but how?"

"Too bad you can't teleport anymore, jefe," Randy commented.

"Hey, Madgirl, portals are your thing, right?" Faith asked, looking in Fred's direction. "Any ideas?"

Fred chewed her thumbnail, thinking. "Actually, yeah. There's a project I was working on, called it the L'Engle Drive, that can make spatial coordinates congruent. Some of those scans Mendel and I took of the stressed space around the Shadow's teleports suggest it'd work well enough to get us there. Th' problem is power. As in, it's gonna take a lot, and they're gonna know we're there. It's gonna look like a Roman Candle goin' off on any kinda sensors they've got."

"Power, we got," Doyle commented, "if those obelisks I saw were any indication. We get somebody on the island, they could open a way back for the rest of us, right?"

"So what we need," I said slowly, "is to insert a small group who can do anything that requires stealth, do recon, and plant Fred's gizmo."

Wesley nodded. "But from what you've said, this Monster Island is out in one of the most remote parts of the South Pacific. There are no stealthy ways to approach."

Pulling out my phone, I grinned. "Actually, there are. Hey, Faith! Ever wanted to do a HALO jump?"

Monique's eyebrows shot up even as a grin started to spread across Faith's face. This was definitely going to be quite a time.

Randy

Why would a vampire own a convertible in LA? It sounds like the setup to a joke, but no, Angel actually had a convertible Plymouth GTX, a classic '67 ragtop that was in pretty damn good shape, considering. He'd taken off with Faith, Monique, and Nick on their way to Edwards Air Force Base, where apparently Riley'd gotten ahold of somebody to meet them and fly them out on this crazy trip. Also, Angel was grinning like an idiot over finally getting to drive his car with the top down during the day, which, could not blame him for one bit.

It was a two hour drive up to Edwards, then eight hours to get out into the drop zone, plus however long it took to infiltrate behind enemy lines, so it was gonna be a while before there was anything for us left back here to do. Fred had gone back to her room to try and get a nap, and Doyle had done the same. Dude was still a little wobbly after that vision, even if he didn't get a splitting migraine from it. Wes had gone back into his library to see if he could dig up anything that'd be useful in the fight ahead, though he'd promised he'd try and get some sleep. I was considering doing the same when I saw Elsie sitting by one of the windows in the parlor, staring out at the skyline.

"Not trying for a nap?" I asked, grabbing one of the nearby chairs.

She shook her head. "Just woke up from one, and I didn't sleep that well then. I keep telling myself that I'm not in any shape to jump out of a damn airplane, wouldn't be even if I was whole, but…"

I watched her worrying at the sleeve of her sweatshirt for a moment. "You were totally one of the gifted kids in school, weren't you?"

"What?"

"Gifted, Enrichment, Odyssey of the Mind, advanced classes, whatever they called it in your school district. The smart kids who got special classes and weird field trips while the rest of us went to pep rallies."

She blinked at me, obviously not following. "Uh… yeah. Why?"

"Because every one of those kids was a giant control freak, just like you."

Red eyebrows shot up. "Excuse me?"

Oh, like she was surprised, this wasn't the first or even tenth time I'd pointed it out. But I wasn't actually busting on her this time, so I just went on instead of rising to the bait.

"Back in high school, when they did those stupid group projects, it was always the gifted kids who wanted to just do the entire thing themselves and let everybody else put their name on it. Because if they delegated, then they took the risk of something not being perfect and making them look bad. And when all you have is being the kid who gets straight A's, a bad grade practically is the end of the world, right?"

"... I don't see what the point of this discussion is." And yep, now she was getting defensive. I could see the shoulders starting to come up.

"The point is, you were always the smart one, right? Elsie's the brainy one, Catherine's the pretty, social one. She was the one who had all the friends, and maybe her grades weren't great, and she maybe got into a liiiittle bit of trouble from time to time. Nothing major, just a scrape here and there."

And now she wasn't meeting my eyes as she started picking at her sleeve again. "So?"

"So, you were 'smart' and 'mature,' and they pretty much ignored you for years because you weren't the one getting into trouble. And then you got a degree, and she got a boyfriend, and you got a doctorate, and she got engaged, and you got a job chasing giant squid, and she got married, and every time, they threw her a party and told you 'that's nice, dear.' Right? Actually, I know I'm right, I was your date for the damn wedding. Your sister put you into a bridesmaid dress that was practically designed to look awful on you, and your parents didn't let out a peep. It took you taking potshots at a giant flying manta ray with a flare gun for them to actually pay attention to you."

"Okay. So. What?" Her fists were clenched, and the lamp on the table next to her was vibrating a little. Which was a surprisingly good sign– if the TK was leaking, her repression wasn't as good as it used to be.

Of course, now I had to make sure she didn't just take a swing at me. "It's okay to be pissed off at them, you know," I told her, making sure I held eye contact. She had to know I was being serious, that this wasn't me being a dick for shits and giggles.

"Just because they finally told your sister off for being a brat about you saving her life doesn't magically make all those years go away, Elsie. And it's okay to be mad about them. It's like my grandma told my cousin Laurel once, being mad just means you were hurt and you know it wasn't okay. People can hurt you and still love you, and you can be angry at someone and still love them. Even if they're sorry, it still hurts, and you don't have to be over it right away. And you don't have to forgive them just because they're sorry, especially if they just say it and go right back to hurting you afterward."

I laughed, but it didn't sound that happy. "Hell, Uncle Louie always says he's sorry. And sometimes he even quits drinking, for a while. Always starts back up again, though. Pretty sure at this point we're all pretty much out of forgiveness. Doesn't mean we stop loving him, though. Not sure we can. … Which actually sucks rocks, come to think of it."

Shaking my head, I picked up the thread again. "My point is, you don't have to magically not be mad anymore, just because you don't think you should be. Letting go is one thing, but you've been choking it down for years, and you still are. It's why she's so pissed off, and why she's taking what she wants. And you don't have to be the one to do everything. You're the only one who's gonna be able to stop her, until then you can let the rest of us carry you for a while."

"... Who are you, and what have you done with Randy Hernandez? That was actually sensitive and eloquent." Then she waved a hand. "No, no. You're… you're right. If I do everything for myself, I don't have to worry about anybody letting me down. Or, I guess, facing the fact that I'm not everybody's first priority, which, gotta love what that says about me, right?"

"Hey. Everybody deserves to be somebody's first priority at least some of the time. I'm not seeing where you had a lot of that."

Her smile was softer than I've ever seen from her. "Well. Maybe not until now."

"So. As a second priority, want to see what we can tease out of the kitchen? You look like you could use a snack to keep your strength up."

"Oh my god, you are a walking stomach!"

Faith

HALO jumping is supposed to take a fuckton of training, given that you're going from practically orbit down to three thousand feet in pretty much free-fall. I'd done parachute training before, as a present from Giles and Jenny for getting my GED. With that and the whole Slayer resilience thing, we were basically gonna cheat on the rest of it.

Apparently the bossman had done a parachute jump or two himself, though all he'd say about it was that he'd done some "interesting stuff during the war." Didn't even say which one. But with that and the whole "magical creature" thing, he was up for cheating the same way I was.

We'd been met at Edwards by a Sergeant Felix, a dude in his fifties or so with a really awesome mustache, even if the whole thing had gone gray by now. Apparently he was an Army pilot that that Lieutenant Finn had snagged via the friend-of-a-friend network. He'd loaded us up onto a cargo plane and given us a quick rundown on the chutes and the oxygen systems, then let us crash out for the next few hours, given the length of the flight. Now the four of us were kitting up, black flight suits, helmets, oxygen masks and all.

"So, I totally can guess about Miss Gothica here," I commented, by way of a radio check, "but when the hell did you learn to do a HALO jump, Nick?"

"Hicks got me a spot in a training course at Sandy Point back in October," he replied, loud and clear. "Said with how often I was throwing myself out of perfectly good aircraft, I ought to get some training on how to do it correctly, so he could cut back on his antacid intake some."

Angel snorted. "Did it work?"

"It's only been a month, so I don't know yet," Nick replied cheerfully. "It's not like I try to stress him out, though."

Monique's voice came over the radio, clear and dry as high noon in Arizona. "You simply have the self-preservation instincts of a… what did Dr. Chapman say the last time? Oh yes, 'a Cordyceps-infected ant.'"

"I resent that."

Sgt. Felix coughed into his fist. "Ladies and gentlemen, we're approaching the drop zone, so if you'll check your gear over one last time and then move to the rear of the cargo area?"

We did as suggested, then lined up at the hatch under the tail, used for loading and unloading cargo, and the occasional crazy door opened slowly, sending wind whipping around us. I could just about feel the chill of the air even through the insulated jumpsuit, and was seriously glad that I didn't have any exposed skin in this getup. Slayer healing or not, frostbite sucked rocks.

This high up, we were above the cloud layer, and too far out to sea for any light pollution, so the sky around us was full of stars, brighter and clearer than I'd ever seen even in a movie. Far below us, I could just see the lights scattered here and there on Monster Island, and I was seriously glad it was a mostly clear night with a full moon.

The Sergeant counted us out, first Monique, then Nick, then me, with Angel bringing up the rear. A few running steps, and I was out into free-fall, wind whistling past sounding like the roar of an engine even through the ear protection I wore. I pulled my arms and legs in towards my body, speeding up my fall and making myself a smaller target as I went. This was a night jump in black gear, so as long as we didn't get backlighted against the moon, we should be invisible, but hey, every little bit helps.

At Monique's signal, we pulled our chutes, aiming for a mostly deserted cove on the south side of the island. None of the monster enclosures came particularly near the area, and the island's one port was farther up on the east side. It was as quiet and private as we were gonna get.

We made splashdown in ankle-deep water, although the traditional parachute landing fall meant we were pretty much rolling up onto the beach. Luckily, the insulated jumpsuits kept the water out pretty well, and we were only moderately damp as we shucked the gear and tucked it under a bush.

Angel was scanning the beach as we regrouped, and I noticed his eyes were golden. Not the funky bright safety yellow that vamps had; this was a buttery color, kinda like a lion's.

"Night vision still good?" I asked quietly. He grinned– no fangs, I noticed.

"As good as before, maybe better," he replied. "So what's our first move?"

Nick squinted up at the sky, then pointed. "The observation base is that way, built onto the side of the cliff. If we follow the beach around, we'll come to the main supports. Climb up those in the right place, and we can cut through the outside skin into a service duct. That should let us out right near the commander's office. Spike the computer with the CD-RW Randy made up, that'll let him and Fred take control of the computer systems and get the lay of the land. Then we find Hicks and figure out the best place to plant those energy taps Fred gave us… and then we'll probably be making the rest up as we go along."

"Standard Scooby procedure, then," I grinned, as Monique rolled her eyes. "As Xander has said, if you don't have a plan, it can't go wrong."

A shrug from Angel. "I mean, the number of times we've won because nobody expected us to improvise, he might have a point."

"How're we going to cut in through the skin?" I asked, as we headed off along the beach, staying close to the tree line.

"Oh, that's simple," Nick replied, as something green sparked around his hand for a second. "Fire plus lightning equals plasma cutter."

My eyebrows went up. "Dude. That's a pretty handy trick."

"It's about all I can do right now. Dr. Morris thinks I might get other elements eventually, but subtle stuff like Willow can do is probably always going to be out of my reach."

Monique's accent had a slight acid edge to it as her words floated back to us. "Perhaps we could continue this trip in silence?"

Nick rolled his eyes, and I'm pretty sure I saw Angel make a hand signal that wasn't suitable for polite company, but hey, at least they were quiet about it.

Hugging the base of the cliff as we went, we came to the supports of the base soon enough. There were a couple of guys standing guard on the port, but they were on the other side of the structure from us, and didn't notice as we quietly climbed the three hundred feet up to the supports holding the giant metal box up against the side of the island. Pulling off a glove, Nick carefully cut a square in the metal above him just big enough for Angel to fit his shoulders through. Then he slowly pushed the square in and out of the way, reached into the hole and hauled himself up. Apparently chasing mutants seriously cranked your upper body strength.

The three of us followed him inside. Pulling a sheet of plastic out of his pack, Nick quickly duct-taped into place over the hole. It wasn't going to hold if anybody stepped on it, but hopefully it'd keep anybody from hearing the wind whistle past, at least long enough for us to do what we came here for.

We managed to make it to the commander's office without a problem, though at least once, we'd had to duck into a side corridor to avoid a couple of patrolling soldiers. Luckily it was late and they were bored and half-assing things, so they didn't look too hard into the shadows. Monique made short work of the lock on the office door with her lockpicks, because of course she carried lockpicks, and we slipped inside, closing the door behind us.

"... Shit."

I turned to see what had gotten that reaction out of Nick, and winced. There was a hospital cot set up in one corner of the office and lying on it, wrists secured to the frame with zipties, was one Major Anthony Hicks, out like a light. His chest was rising and falling, but I was suddenly seriously glad B wasn't here. I'd liked the dude, the one time I'd met him before heading to LA, but she'd gotten seriously attached.

And so had Nick, given how he almost shoved the CD case at Monique before closing the distance between him and the cot. I wasn't going to be much use with spiking the computer, so I moved over along with him, pulling a penlight out of my pack. Nick pulled a folding knife out of one pocket and quickly cut the ties, which gave me a chance to get in and take a pulse.

"Slow and steady," I reported. Prying open one eye, I checked pupil dilation. "Looks like they sedated the shit out of him, but I'm not seeing any injuries."

Nick let out a breath, and if it was a little shaky, well, I wasn't going to draw any attention to it. "Okay. I guess maybe the brainwashing didn't work on him, for whatever reason. Any idea how long he'll be out?"

I shrugged. "Pupillary reaction says he's pretty deep under, but other than that? With no idea what they gave him or when, no."

"We can't haul him around the base, and leaving him here isn't a good idea either. …Oh well, I always do my best work under pressure." Putting his hand on Hicks's chest, he closed his eyes. After a second, a green aura started to form around his hand, spreading slowly until it enveloped the entire cot, not to mention the guy on the cot. Then it faded away, just as Hicks's eyelids fluttered open.

"Nick?" he said, groggily. One hand came up and Nick caught it, gently helping him into a sitting position.

"Major," Nick replied. His tone was nonchalant, but the smile on his face was anything but.

Hicks rubbed at his face with his free hand, but I noticed he didn't seem to be in any hurry to let go of Nick with the other one. "What the hell… where am I?"

"Commander's office. Highest security in the base, I'd guess Elsie was more worried about you getting rescued than you breaking out on your own."

"Elsie… Worm Guy, what the hell is going on here?"

Nick sighed. "It's kind of a long story, Major."

"Well, y'know, we're all ears," a new voice chimed in from the door. A skinny red-haired guy in BDUs had his sidearm out and aimed at Monique.

"And I just love a good story, yo."

A/N: Sgt. Lyman Felix is property of Hasbro and Marvel/Sunbow.