Buffy watched as F-Faith suddenly turned around and realized that Angel was in the room. In a blur of motion, F-Faith suddenly had Angel pinned up against the wall, and pulled another stake out of seemingly thin-air. Muttering something to him, she pulled back her arm and prepared to plunge it in his heart.
Uh-uh, not while Buffy was still in the room. Hurrying to her ex's defense, she ripped F-Faith off of Angel before she could get the job done. Both of them tumbled to the ground, but F-Faith put her leg under Buffy's, and the present slayer fell to the floor, hard. F-Faith did a bellyroll and then sat on top of Buffy, grabbing her by the collar and then leering in her face.
"What, are you an idiot," she growled. "Are you still trying to protect your damned little boyfriend. I don't know who I should kill first, him or—"
"—no one," F-Xander finished up for her and he nudged F-Faith with the toe of his shoes. Angry, F-Faith bounced back up, her whole demeanor asking for a fight. "Uh, Faith? As much as I'd like to fight with a Slayer, because you know how much I enjoy shortening my life expectancy, I propose instead we have a *talk*," he looked over at F-Willow, "between ourselves before we do anything stupid or drastic." He let the final word hang heavy in the air as his dark brown eyes settled back on F-Faith.
F-Faith scowled at him, but crawled off of Buffy and grabbed F-Xander's sleeve. "Then we talk," she grumped, looking towards F-Willow. F-Xander raised his eyebrows in a come-over-here gesture.
F-Willow looked back at them nervously, and then her eyes darted from the Gang to Angel, and then back to her fellow visitors from the future. She gulped and then climbed on top of the table, scurrying across it and the room to get as far away from anybody that she could possibly be.
While the threesome made their way to a tiny corner of the library, Buffy turned to Giles. "So, what's the deal with the time warp?" Buffy asked brightly, popping up on her heels in a decidedly Willow fashion.
Giles was focusing on something over Buffy's shoulders—the empty spot where Angel had stood but seconds ago—but now his eyes focused on the slayer. "Hmm, time warp," Giles mused, bringing a hand up to his chin. He rubbed it thoughtfully. "Could be."
Xander shifted nervously on one foot. "So, uh, can..." he shot a look at where the three adults were discussing in confidence. F-Xander had one protective arm slung over a trembling F-Willow, and F-Faith, wet and bedraggled as she was, managed to pull herself together and was looking fairly foreboding as she reared up on her heels and yelled something angrily at F-Xander. "Can Willow fix what happened?" It felt strangely odd to be talking about his best friend as though she were not there. But she was, both aspects of her. And his other "aspect" was with his arm around her other, and without even looking Xander could tell that Oz was jealous.
"We would have to ask her," Giles said, throwing a glance at the trio. F-Xander was now yelling back at F-Faith, and she had stop her arguing to hear his argument. F-Willow was clinging on to F-Xander's side, and she didn't look up to casting a circle, much less gathering her physic energy to peer into the shadows of the ether.
"Don't you think I know that?" F-Xander was yelling at F-Faith, and he had the advantage of being a head taller than her. He looked down at her, and although F-Faith could lick him if she tried, it was still somewhat menacing. "If anyone should want to kill him, it should be me. And Willow. And all of Sunnydale in general. But we're not going to, because we're not going to do some Hellmouth version of Back to the Future 2. Catch what I'm saying, Faith?"
"Ok, I get the damn point!" F-Faith yelled back, standing on tiptoe and her fists clutched at her side. "But I say that if Angelus gets within five feet of me, I'm staking that son of a bitch, no matter *what*!" F-Faith was so much into this that the veins on her neck were standing out. "And don't you tell me otherwise!"
"Fine," F-Willow said hurriedly, putting one slim hand on F-Xander's chest, stopping him from lunging forwards towards Slayer #2. "If Angel comes near you, then you stake him. But don't *you* go near *him*. Don't you go looking for a fight." She finished off with a comically fierce expression that passed off as pathetic in her current state.
F-Faith shook her head, her short mane of wispy black hair fluttering around her face. She sucked on her teeth and tossed her hair back, stomping away from F-Xander and F-Willow and over to the table. She crossed her arms angrily and slammed down into a chair. "The sooner this nightmare is over with, the better," she hissed through clenched teeth. Then she started patting all the pockets in her outfit, mumbling about something.
"You know, sometimes it's like we connect, and then other times it's just like we completely bounce off each other. She's so pissy. What makes slayers act as though they have PMS all the time?" F-Xander murmured to Willow as they made their own way to the table. "Maybe the slaying?" F-Willow suggested, sitting down next to him as he pulled out two seats, across from F-Faith and far enough away from their younger selves.
"Do, you, ah, think you could do the spell now?" Giles asked, fumbling for his glasses. He looked questioningly at F-Willow, and she stared blankly at him, gathering her thoughts. Xander cleared his throat loudly, nervously. F-Willow was clinging to his future self again.
"Well, I would need, hmm, let us see..." she trailed off, staring at the ceiling. "I would need a bit of salt, or a bit of earth, a cup of water, a candle—pepper will do, I've found that out, but oh!—" F-Willow's eyes met with Giles', and she started to shake again slightly. "Of course, you already know what needs to be laid out on an altar. Really, all I need is some runes to cast, a crystal ball if you have one or a chalice of red wine, and a stick of sage to burn." She turned her eyes to floor. "That would be about it, really."
Suddenly F-Xander gave a yelp and jumped out of his chair, sending it clattering away to the floor. He back away, one hand on the knee of his left leg, and staring beneath the table.
Out materialized D-Giles, whom no one noticed had gone missing. He gave a passing glance to F-Xander, but then turned around to face F-Willow. He rested his shaggy golden-haired head on the arm of her chair and stared at her with his deep, mournful brown eyes. They were nerving, and F-Willow scooted closer to the other side of her chair. "Yes, that's it," she said detachedly, lost in the dog's stare.
"I-I'll get the materials," Willow said, backing towards the book cage where Giles kept some of her things in stash, in case they ever needed to perform a quick rite. "I know where they are." She closed the door to the cage behind her in a hurry as she flung open the place where Giles kept the weapons, and reached behind a crossbow where the makeshift altar that she had constructed for Angel's re-souling had laid untounched for awhile.
"Here's an altar," Willow announced, pulling it out and dusting it off. Her red hair fell in front of her eyes and she shoved it back again with one hand, even though the board was so heavy that she had to steady it on her leg to keep herself balanced. She bumped out of the cage, carrying the altar. "There are some packets underneath that—"
"On no!" F-Willow cried out, jumping up and clapping a hand over her mouth, her eyes opening wide. Willow was so surprised that she dropped the board, and it made a loud crack as it split evenly in two. As Willow bent down to pick up the pieces, F-Willow started pacing towards the double doors.
"Oh my goddess," she whispered, "this is so serious." She turned back to face the group, hands clutched behind her back. "Don't you see it to? Xander and I are back here, but that's because Xander cast the spell and then I touched the book it came from while it was still resonating with magick—"
"Wait, how do you know that?" Xander asked, but F-Willow continued on over his comment and no one paid him any mind.
"—so that's why we're here. But that does *not* explain why Faith and the dog are here. I mean, that dog is a puzzle onto itself. But we can only assume that since the four of us are back, then everyone else is too." Her hand appeared, and they were streaked with red marks from where F-Willow had pressed down too hard. "That means Oz, and Cordelia, and..." she let the unspoken name hang in the air, and instead concentrated on the floor. "And other people," she finished up quietly.
"Then we have to go find them," F-Faith said when nobody else spoke up. "But where?"
"Well, let us analyze where we ended up." F-Willow sat down on the floor, unconsciously crossing her legs yoga-style, as though she was preparing for meditation. "Faith, you...?"
"Ocean," F-Faith said, hissing through her teeth again. She grabbed a bit of her hair, which had dried now and was sticky and smelled like salt. She grabbed a thick chunk between her hands and wrung it out, drops of seawater falling on the hardwood floor. "The ocean," she repeated again, wiping her hands on her leather outfit.
"Ok," F-Willow said, and played around with her tongue, letting it climb up the walls and roof of her mind. For some reason, it helped her to calm down and to think. Unfortunately, it also gave her a very grotesque appearance, most of the time. "And Xander, you?"
"The library, right where you found me." He put his chin on his hands and stared at F-Willow oddly. "Did Angel *really* 'save' you?"
F-Willow rolled her eyes. "Forget the irony right now," F-Willow said. "I'm just glad someone got me out of there. I hate the cemetery, I mean," he voice was reduced to the tiniest bit of sound. "You know how I feel about the cemetery, about what happened there." And then, with that out of her mouth, she gasped.
"I have it!" She cried, leaping up. "Again, I mean, I have it again!" She walked quickly over to F-Faith. "I mean, you're terrified of the ocean, right?" F-Faith was not one to advertise her fears, and the slayer just stared back at her with dull eyes. "Ok, don't admit it, but I know the truth." As F-Willow turned around to walk near to Xander, F-Faith's eyes bore proverbial holes in F-Willow's head. "And Xander, you were in the library 'cause of...well, you know." She paused uncomfortably.
"Point?" F-Xander asked, sighing loudly.
"It means that we all came back to a place that we hated. Faith, the ocean. Me, the cemetery. You, the library. So basically, all the others are in places that they hate. So it will be easy to find."
"That's just grand, Will," F-Xander said, standing up. He pushed that chair back in and went over to lean heavily on the banister. He wasn't feeling very good. "But just exactly where are we going to find Oz and Cordelia at? Who knows where they hate the most?"
There was a moment of silence. Present and future were consumed with trying to find out where they would find the others. Then Oz walked over to F-Willow. He put a tentative hand on her shoulder, and F-Willow felt the touch of her Oz now, and she wanted to feel it again. She just had to find him and see if he was ok.
"Um, I think I might know where I am," he said quietly. Then his eyes made the slightest flick towards Xander and Willow, and suddenly it clicked with everyone where exactly they could find Oz.
"Okay...what exactly is going on here?"
This was definitely not his balcony, not his house, and not even *Mexico*. Or, maybe, it was. Just an underground part.
This place was dark and gray and full of dust. As Oz ran his long, thin fingers across the wall, the plaster crumbled at the touch of his fingertips. The whole place was rotting away, and a distinct smell was in the air...matchsticks? Yes, but faintly. Old, used matchsticks, and the fire that resulted from it.
But this was not the only familiar smell. Oz, using his werewolf sense of smell, could detect the residual emotions left in this place, just like Willow could use her empathy to know who was the last owner of whatever she held in her hand. He could smell, in this small hole that he was, he could smell fear, panic, a tang of death, betrayal, and remorse. Pretty powerful smell for such a small place, and such a strong imprint.
Then Oz smelled something else. "Willow?" he whispered aloud, noticing her scent on the dead air. There was no answer, for the scent was stale. Stale and old, and strange, yet familiar. Something was up.
Up...Oz walked over to where he saw a hole in the ceiling, and looked up. Through the jagged opening he could see another ceiling, not too far away, and the faint outline of stairs. He was under the stairs. Plaster cracked under his feet as he stood on tiptoe and tried to peer over the hole, in case there was something there to surprise him that had the ability to trick him. But there was no one there that he could see. He would have to take a risk.
He was just about to spring up there when he heard a shriek from behind, and he jumped right out of the hole without even thinking. He caught his left foot on a sharp edge of the hole, and he fell flat on his face. Getting up on his elbows, he dragged himself up to his knees and crawled as close as he could to the hole.
He looked down, and as soon as he saw who had shrieked, dropped back into the hole.
She was just going to tell Xander about a doodling Annie had done the other day (she had drawn a wonderful picture of the whole family that was so lovingly detailed for a three-year-old) when she felt his hand grow icy. Now, it was cold outside, with it having snowed only a morning ago, but one of things that she loved about Xander was that he was always warm, no matter what temperature. She had turned from looking at the stores on the other side of the road to tell Xander to put on his gloves when she noticed that he had disappeared, and that she was lying down on the ground with a tremendous headache.
Cordelia blinked and stretched her face, trying to lift her head off of the floor. Her hair had come undone from its high, fancy bun, and the shoulder-length chocolate-colored strands stuck to her scalp in sweat. She reached a hand up to the back of her head to see if there was blood, if she had hit anything.
When she felt no dampness, she lay her head back down and turned to the right. She found herself staring at her rusty reflection.
"Wha..." Cordelia started, propping herself up on her elbows quickly. The blood rushed to her head, either of the sudden change in position or because of the sudden fright that overtook her. As she stared at the pole in front of her, the pole that still had dried blood in all the right places, she shrieked.
"Cordelia, it's me, Oz!" he called as he slid down underneath the stairs. Cordelia was sobbing now, and as soon as Oz came near her she attached herself firmly to his body. "Oh God," she mumbled, burying her head in his shoulder. Oz, glad that she didn't question what he was doing here or where here was, wrapped his arms around her and hummed soothingly, something he did when Willow got like this.
"It's ok, it's ok..." he sang softly. He wondered about Willow, but right now he had to worry about Cordelia. "What made you scream?"
Cordelia pulled back from him and looked at him. Her body language and expression read "stunned." "That," she said, turning around and pointed with one shaking finger towards the pole in the center of the room. "That pole. I was...impaled on that pole. I..." She didn't finish her sentence, just stared at the pole in silence.
Oz looked at it. He couldn't smell the blood, and that worried him. Maybe it was all the dust in the room. But then a bigger worry hit him.
"We're in the factory," he said, surprised the words were even leaving his mouth. He thought it wouldn't work, considering the total chaos his mind was currently undergoing.
"The factory?" Cordelia asked, her voice thick because her tongue only moved slightly. "But how the...I mean, is it...what's going on, Oz?" she asked. "What am I *doing* here." She turned towards him, her eyes dancing in fright. "What are *you* doing here? How, why did we get here?"
"I don't know," Oz answered truthfully, "but I think that if we go up *there*," he pointed to the hole's opening, "then we might find out."
"But the factory is in Sunnydale," Cordelia said, her voice a soft panic. "And you know how Sunnydale is. Five seconds outside and we're the victims of a vampire suckfest. Uh-huh." She shook her head fiercely, and the strands of her hair flew free from her scalp. "I'd rather stay here."
"Would you like me to go up there or do you want me to stay up here?" Oz asked, walking over to Cordelia and putting an arm on her shoulder. Cordelia raised her hand to meet his, and they smiled at each other. Oz was so sweet and considerate, and she was happy that he and Willow had gotten back together and everything. Back together even after that pushing-everybody-away thing she went through after Sunnydale had gone down in ashes.
"I don't know," Cordelia said, tightening her hold on his hand. "But you're the one with the super-hyped senses. You tell me, wolf-guy."
Oz was in the front seat, hands gripped tightly on the steering wheel, which had become slipping from his sweat. Next to him, in the other front seat, Willow said with her hands in her lap and staring at the window. Each of them were to uncomfortable to look at each other, much less sneak some looks in their general direction. The fact that Oz was called the Factory the place he most hated weighed incredible guilt on Willow's part and unpleasant memories on Oz's part. And he thought he had gotten over the whole jealous-of-Xander thing, and then Willow had to turn around and go do *that* with Xander. Oz sighed outloud.
"Are we there yet?" F-Xander called from the back, where he was scrunched up against a stack of old records, covered in black cloth and some stale Dorito chips Oz had eaten back there and forgotten to clean up. Next to him sat his younger self, who kept staring at his older self. F-Xander tried to ignore him.
"Almost," Oz answered in an odd voice. Willow shifted in her seat and stared out the window a little bit harder.
"You sound like an impatient little kid," F-Willow told him, her voice clear in Oz's ear because she was propped up against his seat. Next to her sat Buffy, who had come along in case any vampire activity showed up. "Are you *that* anxious to get there?"
"No," F-Xander said with all seriousness. "You know what happened there."
Willow frowned. "Hmm," she grumbled, musing over something.
There was a pause, and then F-Xander turned towards Xander. "So what's up?" he asked, not wanting to make F-Willow feel too uncomfortable.
Xander looked back at him, his gaze not wavering. "You mean you don't know?" he asked, his voice a bit icy.
F-Xander shrugged. "I suppose I do," he said, then look at F-Willow. "Guess I forgot."
F-Willow leaned towards her younger self and stage-whispered, "He's forgetting things because he's getting old." Then she giggled and wiggled her eyebrows at F-Xander.
"I am not old!" F-Xander said indignantly. He looked around, and as he knocked his shoulder on the stack of old records, the few Doritos fell in his lap. He picked one up and threw it at F-Willow. "Am not."
"Are too!" F-Willow shot back, and then bent over to pick up the chip, which had landed at her feet. She gathered it with her fingers and then threw it at F-Xander, hitting his stomach. "You are *so* old. You can't even hit me!"
She was answered by a Dorito right between the eyes. "Am not."
"Are too!" Dorito to the chest.
"Not!" Dorito to the chest, sliding into the bodice of her nightgown. Laughter. "I do have good aim, don't I?"
At that comment, F-Willow extended her leg and kicked F-Xander's foot "Say that in front of Oz, and he'll beat you up," she warned playfully, settling back into her seat. F-Xander put on an expression of mock horror.
{I'd better} Oz thought angrily, and then realized that they were in front of the Factory. His foot slammed down on the brake pedal, and all of the van's occupants lurched forward.
"What was that?" Buffy demanded angrily. Something that once was a hat had slid off F-Xander's stack and landed on her head. She peeled it off and put it on the floor next to her. Oz didn't turn around, just turned the key and off went the engine. He climbed out of the car, muttering "Sorry" loud enough for them to hear.
"That was wrong," F-Xander said as everyone else stayed in the van. "That *felt* wrong." F-Willow threw another Dorito at him, giggled that he had better shape up, and then crawled across the van to open the doors.
As the van door opened and everyone tumbled out, Oz went around back for a moment to collect himself. Sure, he felt emotions, just like any other human being did. But he was *not* good at showing them, or more close to the target, he was afraid of showing them. Like that little scene just now in the van, when he had slammed down on the brakes in anger. What if someone had gotten hurt? What if *Willow* had gotten hurt?
{I wish Xander would get hurt. I wish I could hurt him as bad as he hurt me. I hope he never sees Cordelia again, because he deserves to be without her. He deserves to be alone. Now that would hurt him.}
"Oz?" He turned around to see Willow right next to him. Her voice was quavering. "can we talk?"
"Uh, is there time?" Oz asked. On the other side of the van, someone was slamming the doors shut again.
"Short talk," Willow assured him. Then she averted her eyes, settling on the ground. "So this is the spot you most hate?" she asked softly, half-knowing the answer Oz would give her.
"Well, we'd, uh, have to go inside and see." Oz could see that the answer didn't cut it for her. "Look, Willow, I'm not hating you. I mean, I could never hate you. 'Cause your...well, your Willow, and I love you.
"But, I do hate Xander, and I hate what you did. That hurt me a *lot*. I mean, I've liked girls before, but I've never *loved* a girl, and I *know* that's what you I feel for you. Love, is what I feel for you." She was looking into his eyes again, and now Oz had to push his away. "And I thought you loved me back, but I'm thinking...that while you were cheating with Xander, and I told you I loved you, and you said it back to me...I'm wondering if you meant it. 'Cause for all I know, you were telling the same thing to Xander. And the way you two were on that bed." He drew in a sharp breath. "You guys must've said that to each other already."
When he looked back, Willow's eyes were brimming with tears. "I do love you, Oz," she said quietly, "and I keep kicking myself over the head for doing what I did with Xander. And I can't believe I had the *nerve* to stand like that and tell you I love you while I was...cheating on you. But I know why I did that." She waited until Oz lifted his head up to continue. "I did that because I love you, with all my heart and soul and...you know, that other stuff that people say when they're in love. And I thought I had that with Xander—for such a long time—until you came and showed me what love was really all about." She gave a little smile. "And you hear what I said. It seems that we kind of worked things out."
Oz didn't smile just yet, but he relaxed. "Yeah, I guess so." Then he let out that sharp breath he had taken. "You know what, Willow? I love you."
Willow beamed. "I love you too, Oz." And she meant it with all her heart and soul and...that other stuff.
Now he smiled.
"Hey, lovebirds?" They turned around to see Buffy standing there. "Um, Xander and Willow—I guess—are waiting out there for you guys to wrap it up." Her mouth made one straight line, a sign that meant she was in a hurry. She knew that once they got Oz, they would have to look for Cordelia next. And then, last but not least...herself.
Creepy.
"O-ok," Willow said, nodding her head. "We're there." Oz reached out for her hand, and she took it. Together they followed Buffy out into the open.
F-Xander and F-Willow were engrossed in an argument: F-Xander was holding tightly onto her arm and Willow was struggling to get out of his tight grip. "Let me *go*, Xander!" she was telling him. "Somebody's got to go in there."
"Not you. Don't you remember the last time somebody was in there? That person got impaled."
"Oh ho, I remember that being under some different circumstances," F-Willow said, arching her eyebrows and rising on tiptoe so that she looked taller. "I'm not going to run out of there because I caught my boyfriend cheating with his best friend."
"You know, I seem to remember you being a crucial part in that little fix too."
"Oh yeah, well, you were a bigger part then me!"
"Oh really? How so?"
Willow made an arrogant "hmmf" sound. She made goo-goo eyes at Xander and made her voice sound young and sing-song. "That we're old, old friends. Just very good friends who like to hang out, and can I kiss your earlobe?" Both of them set their jaws at the same time, looking like they were gonna claw each other's eyes out.
F-Xander stood his ground. "You're still not going in there."
"Well then, Mr. Caution Man, since it's so dangerous, who are you gonna send in there?"
"I dunno, little Ms. Resort-to-the-Black-Arts. How about Buffy?" F-Xander suggested, the slightest hint of cruelty evident in his voice.
Willow's eyes widened and she made an "ah!" sound. "Well, aren't we the little hypocrite," she started sharply, ready to launch into a lecture.
Xander and Willow exchanged nervous glances. "Uh," Willow the peacemaker started, but she was cut off by a sudden, familiar shout of:
"So this is *Willow's* fault? Why does everything that happens to me in this Factory has to be because of *Willow*!"
F-Xander and F-Willow looked at each other, understanding passing between them, and they both ran into the Factory at once.
"*Finally*," Xander sighed as he and the rest of the gang followed close behind.
Oz was trying to explain to Cordelia that this might be the indirect cause of a spell he, Willow, and Echo where doing the day before, but only so much could enter Cordelia Harris' head at once. She only heard the words "Willow" and "spell."
"So this is *Willow's* fault?" she fumed. "Why does everything that happens to me in this Factory has to be because of *Willow*." Oz imagined that there was smoke coming out of her ears, and he tried not to let a smile appear on his face from the comical mental image.
"Cordelia, calm down," he soothed. "Listen to e-ver-y-thing I say—"
"Oz!" "Cordelia?"
The two separate voice rang out in the emptiness of the factory. "Down here—wait, we'll be up there in a second!" Oz called out, recognized the voices of Xander and Willow. He was glad to see them—if they were stuck in Sunnydale and they were alive, then there was a chance of getting out of this town living and breathing and to find a way out of whatever mess they were in.
"Oz?" It was Xander's voice, lined with worry. "Is Cordelia down there with you?"
"Yes I am!" Cordelia answered for herself, and Oz winced at the volume. "And Alexander Harris, you better explain what the *hell* is going on when I get up there! Both to Oz and me!"
"I promise, Cordy," Xander called from up above. Cordelia relaxed at the sound of her husband's voice.
"Hey!" Oz yelled up at Xander. "I'll hoist her up there, and you grab her arms, ok? You don't have to crawl up there. And Willow?"
"Yeah?" Her voice was small and sounded like bells.
"I'll be up right after Cordy, ok?" No answer. "Everything's fine, baby. I'm here."
The answer was a very soft murmur of "I know."
Oz paused for a moment to mull over Willow's strange comment, and then shrugged it off. He grabbed Cordelia by the waist and lifted her clear over his head. He noticed that Xander had hold of her arms because Cordelia's body went taut. He pushed her up as Xander pulled and didn't let go until his hands slipped off her shoes. Then, making sure the hole was cleared, he bent his leg muscles and then let them loose, jumping out of the hole.
The scene before him so stunned him that he practically fell back down again.
What was he expecting? It was hard to put it into words. Maybe...a taller version of him. Yes, that was one thing that he was expecting—hoping was a more aptly put word, actually. And maybe he'd have gotten his grown spurt, and not be so damn lanky. And maybe he'd be able to keep his hair color just one shade, and maybe he'd have finally grown a real goatee instead of fuzz. Maybe.
Sadly, his hopes were dashed. If the gang had thought both Willow's looked alike, past Oz and Future Oz could be mistaken for twins.
They both were rather short; They both were lanky, although F-Oz was slightly thinner; Oz's hair a dulled brown (his original color) and F-Oz's a reddish-brown; they both had fuzz that half-passed for goatees or just the inability to shave. Oz was disappointed.
F-Oz was floored.
"Ok, is anybody *else* seeing double?" F-Oz asked. F-Willow turned towards him and her arm slinked around his back. Needing some sense of security himself, he hung his arm about her shoulders and pulled her close, like they had been doing on the balcony just minutes ago. Except...no jacket. Darn, he had liked that jacket, he'd had it forever; but he loved Willow more and was worried more about losing her than a half-replaceable jacket.
He noticed that she was shivering, and he wrapped another arm around her. F-Willow hugged him and they looked like one person. It was sweet.
"Yeah," F-Xander sighed, holding his own wife in his arms. "You see, seems my younger self decided to transport all of us back to the past as a 'fluke accident', and we're here, so we're stuck here until we can find a way back." He looked at F-Oz, waiting to see what he would say or do.
"That's...certainly something," F-Oz said, grasping for the right words and finding none.
"And who says things change?" Xander muttered under his breath. Buffy overheard him and flashed him grin, which he sent right back. He was watching F-Xander holding what he was pretty damn sure was F-Cordelia. And however elating, it was also strange and confusing. He had the feeling that an explanation wasn't coming his way any time soon.
"So, you're saying we're in the past...?" F-Cordelia said, her voice showing a surprising strength. Xander looked down at her, and she tilted his head up. Her nose met with his chin when they stood like that. "Oh. Ohmigod."
"We're not in Kansas anymore," Oz noted, shaking his head at what was going on.
"Yeah, well, thanks for the brilliant observation, Toto," Cordelia shot back harshly, and Oz flinched. "I'm sorry," she quickly apologized, and then brought a hand to her forehead. "Ohmigod, this is just too much..." She turned to look at everyone in the room, and as soon as her eyes landed on Buffy she whipped Xander around and began a heated and muted conversation.
Willow and Oz just stared at the almost-identical couple. They were moving their mouths as though they were speaking to each other, but no sound whatsoever came out. They went like this for awhile, everyone explaining what they were going through, and then F-Cordelia let out a long, "Oh, I get it now. But if I get the chance, I'm still gonna claw her eyes out."
"If Cordelia gets it, I get it," F-Oz whispered to his wife, and she giggled.
"Well," Buffy said, spinning a stake idly in her hands. There were no vampires tonight, and she just wanted to get the next pick-up over with. She knew she was next, and she knew exactly where she was. "Um, so now what?" Oz asked, and they all turned to look towards Buffy, who obviously would take over as the leader of the group.
"Well, I know where I am," Buffy said, trying to keep her voice flat and emotionless, like Faith often did. For all she knew, she might not even be alive still. "I definitely know the place I most hate."
"The place you most hate? Wait..." F-Oz looked between Buffy and F-Willow, and then Oz and Willow. F-Willow's grip tightened and she nodded in affirmation. They traded meaningful looks.
F-Xander turned a strange shade of purple, and then looked away from F-Cordelia. F-Cordelia noted his awkwardness and pushed away her own. She grabbed his chin—stubble, jesus, didn't the man ever take time to shave?—and looked unwaveringly into his eyes. "I forgive you," she told him low and sternly, "and don't you dare think otherwise." F-Xander gave her a wane smile, and she kissed him lightly on the mouth.
Xander almost let out an audible sigh. {Cordelia and I...back together? But if we're back together, how? The only talking she does to me now is to put me down, I can't believe she'd actually forgive me, and I want to be kissing her right now instead of my other self kissing her. It's no fair that I have to wait that long. Even though it's my fault that I have to wait.}
"So we go get...Buffy, next?" F-Cordelia asked, after she was done making sure her husband knew she held no grudge. She looked towards the younger generation with her typical "So, am I right?" look.
"Well, yeah," Buffy said, itching to get out of this Factory and over to where she thought she'd find her future self.
"Then what are we waiting for?" F-Oz asked. In his arms, F-Willow made a small shrug. "Then let's go."
It was a tight squeeze—true—and it was a bit awkward—true—but the gang and their future selves tried to make the best of it. Meaning no one was speaking.
F-Xander and F-Cordelia had claimed the back of the van, and were sprawled in comfortable positions while engaged in a conversation that included doing some strange version of patty-cake that kept sending them into fits of giggles. Xander was leaning on the doors, looking somewhere between falling asleep and gazing with confusion at the couple playing patty-cake. Buffy was on the opposite side of the doors with knees drawn up to her chin, deep in thought. F-Oz and F-Willow were leaning on the back of Oz's seat, F-Willow in F-Oz's lap, his arms wrapped tightly around her slim waist. He was whispering Shakespeare in her ear, and she had a happy and contented look in her face.
Oz was in the front seat, trying to cope with the fact that less than a foot away stood, well, himself. In fact, he was so coping with it that it was the only thing on his mind, and he forgot the very much more important thing.
"Uh, Buffy?' Oz called into the back. Everyone looked up from their respective thoughts and activities and looked at him attentively. "Where exactly are we going?"
Buffy's jaw dropped but said nothing. That was F-Cordelia's job.
"You mean you don't know?" she asked, her own jaw dropping. "Where've we been driving for the past, like, fifteen minutes?"
F-Oz scooted over to where he could see out the windshield and craned his neck. "Looks like the city limits," he said, a touch of humor in his voice.
"Oh, great one," F-Cordelia said, throwing her arms up. One of them hit F-Xander in the face, and he gently grabbed her arms and placed them in her lap. "Twelve steps," he told her sternly. "Twelve steps."
F-Cordelia looked at him cluelessly, and then once getting the point, she gave an exasperated sigh, crossed her arms over her chest, and turned away from him. "I *hate* being a better person," she grumbled, an unhappy expression on her face.
"That's funny," F-Xander said lightly, "because it seems you don't have much practice at it." F-Cordelia, astonished, turned to look at him, and then slapped him playfully on the arm. "You are such a smartass, Xander! You better be careful, or I'm gonna be serving you divorce papers."
Everyone had a good quiet laugh in the van, and Buffy was about to speak up when F-Willow reached over to her and tugged out the hat-thing she had sat on. F-Willow held it up like a trophy and then waved it in front of F-Oz's face. "We still have this!" she proclaimed proudly, and then gave him a quick kiss on the lips.
"What *is* it?" F-Cordelia asked, tapping her fingernails lightly on F-Xander's arm, which was slung casually around his wife's shoulders. F-Willow took one look at the hat-thing and shrugged. She looked at Oz, who shrugged in turn.
"I don't really care. I just like it a lot 'cause it earned me a kiss." Oz grinned, and the grin grew wider as Willow grinned back. Ah, she had the sweetest smile...
"I hate to break this moment," Buffy interrupted, a wistfulness evident in her voice—obviously wishing for happier time—"but it seems our ride has stopped."
It had indeed. Oz was turned around with one arm draped over the headrest of his chair, looking over at Buffy. "So, where are we going?" he asked calmly.
"You're on the right road," Buffy assured him.
"But we're almost the to edge of Sunnydale," Willow pointed out, doubt evident in her voice. "Are you sure we're going the right way?"
"I'm sure," Buffy said confidently. "We're headed to the mansion."
~~~~Meanwhile, back at the library, a place filled with characters the author has been ignoring thus far, and she apologizes for that very fact...~~~~
Giles was seated at the table with the Pergamum Codex in front of him, a surefire way of figuring out what in the bloody hell was going on around here. Buffy, Xander, Willow, Oz, F-Xander, and F-Willow had gone out to round everyone else, leaving F-Faith behind to pretend to help him research. And also leaving that bloody dog here to destroy his library.
D-Giles was currently nosing his wet muzzle through some very ancient and hard-to-replace books. "Hey, get!" he told the dog. D-Giles lifted his head to look at him for a second, wet brown eyes meeting Giles', and then the dog turned back to "reading" the covers.
"Shoo!" Giles tried again, wanting to drive the dog away but not wanting to put any physical effort into it. This time, when he dog looked up at him, D-Giles gave his namesake a who-do-you-think-you-are-ordering-ME-around-like-that looks that reminded Giles too much of Cordelia to give him the power to keep a straight face.
"Just call it by its name." Giles turned his head around and saw F-Faith leaning her chair back on two legs, one wicked-looking black boot sitting on top of the table, and the slayer herself giving it a literal spit-shine. "Call it by its name and tell it to fucking stop it. 'Shoo' ain't gonna cut it, gramps."
Giles shook his head at her dirty mouth as he turned back to face the dog, who had taken the Malleus Maleficarum by the teeth. "Giles!" he said sharply, feeling extremely ridiculous. D-Giles looked up at, surprised that this impudent stranger was commanding authority. But that's all it took: a sharp glare, the mention of his name, and a "bad dog! Don't do it again!" verse once or twice. D-Giles hung his head and jumped down from the chair in which he had perched upon, slinking away to sulk in a corner.
"Um, thank you," Giles said to F-Faith, who ignored him. He sighed and took his glasses off, running a hand nervously through his hair.
"You're welcome," F-Faith muttered, trying to see if it was true, that you could see your own reflection in your shoes if they were shiny enough. She snorted. "Bullshit."
"Pardon me?" Giles said, surprised. F-Faith took one look at him and shook her head sadly, wondering why she had to stay guard over both helpless puppies.
Uh-uh, not while Buffy was still in the room. Hurrying to her ex's defense, she ripped F-Faith off of Angel before she could get the job done. Both of them tumbled to the ground, but F-Faith put her leg under Buffy's, and the present slayer fell to the floor, hard. F-Faith did a bellyroll and then sat on top of Buffy, grabbing her by the collar and then leering in her face.
"What, are you an idiot," she growled. "Are you still trying to protect your damned little boyfriend. I don't know who I should kill first, him or—"
"—no one," F-Xander finished up for her and he nudged F-Faith with the toe of his shoes. Angry, F-Faith bounced back up, her whole demeanor asking for a fight. "Uh, Faith? As much as I'd like to fight with a Slayer, because you know how much I enjoy shortening my life expectancy, I propose instead we have a *talk*," he looked over at F-Willow, "between ourselves before we do anything stupid or drastic." He let the final word hang heavy in the air as his dark brown eyes settled back on F-Faith.
F-Faith scowled at him, but crawled off of Buffy and grabbed F-Xander's sleeve. "Then we talk," she grumped, looking towards F-Willow. F-Xander raised his eyebrows in a come-over-here gesture.
F-Willow looked back at them nervously, and then her eyes darted from the Gang to Angel, and then back to her fellow visitors from the future. She gulped and then climbed on top of the table, scurrying across it and the room to get as far away from anybody that she could possibly be.
While the threesome made their way to a tiny corner of the library, Buffy turned to Giles. "So, what's the deal with the time warp?" Buffy asked brightly, popping up on her heels in a decidedly Willow fashion.
Giles was focusing on something over Buffy's shoulders—the empty spot where Angel had stood but seconds ago—but now his eyes focused on the slayer. "Hmm, time warp," Giles mused, bringing a hand up to his chin. He rubbed it thoughtfully. "Could be."
Xander shifted nervously on one foot. "So, uh, can..." he shot a look at where the three adults were discussing in confidence. F-Xander had one protective arm slung over a trembling F-Willow, and F-Faith, wet and bedraggled as she was, managed to pull herself together and was looking fairly foreboding as she reared up on her heels and yelled something angrily at F-Xander. "Can Willow fix what happened?" It felt strangely odd to be talking about his best friend as though she were not there. But she was, both aspects of her. And his other "aspect" was with his arm around her other, and without even looking Xander could tell that Oz was jealous.
"We would have to ask her," Giles said, throwing a glance at the trio. F-Xander was now yelling back at F-Faith, and she had stop her arguing to hear his argument. F-Willow was clinging on to F-Xander's side, and she didn't look up to casting a circle, much less gathering her physic energy to peer into the shadows of the ether.
"Don't you think I know that?" F-Xander was yelling at F-Faith, and he had the advantage of being a head taller than her. He looked down at her, and although F-Faith could lick him if she tried, it was still somewhat menacing. "If anyone should want to kill him, it should be me. And Willow. And all of Sunnydale in general. But we're not going to, because we're not going to do some Hellmouth version of Back to the Future 2. Catch what I'm saying, Faith?"
"Ok, I get the damn point!" F-Faith yelled back, standing on tiptoe and her fists clutched at her side. "But I say that if Angelus gets within five feet of me, I'm staking that son of a bitch, no matter *what*!" F-Faith was so much into this that the veins on her neck were standing out. "And don't you tell me otherwise!"
"Fine," F-Willow said hurriedly, putting one slim hand on F-Xander's chest, stopping him from lunging forwards towards Slayer #2. "If Angel comes near you, then you stake him. But don't *you* go near *him*. Don't you go looking for a fight." She finished off with a comically fierce expression that passed off as pathetic in her current state.
F-Faith shook her head, her short mane of wispy black hair fluttering around her face. She sucked on her teeth and tossed her hair back, stomping away from F-Xander and F-Willow and over to the table. She crossed her arms angrily and slammed down into a chair. "The sooner this nightmare is over with, the better," she hissed through clenched teeth. Then she started patting all the pockets in her outfit, mumbling about something.
"You know, sometimes it's like we connect, and then other times it's just like we completely bounce off each other. She's so pissy. What makes slayers act as though they have PMS all the time?" F-Xander murmured to Willow as they made their own way to the table. "Maybe the slaying?" F-Willow suggested, sitting down next to him as he pulled out two seats, across from F-Faith and far enough away from their younger selves.
"Do, you, ah, think you could do the spell now?" Giles asked, fumbling for his glasses. He looked questioningly at F-Willow, and she stared blankly at him, gathering her thoughts. Xander cleared his throat loudly, nervously. F-Willow was clinging to his future self again.
"Well, I would need, hmm, let us see..." she trailed off, staring at the ceiling. "I would need a bit of salt, or a bit of earth, a cup of water, a candle—pepper will do, I've found that out, but oh!—" F-Willow's eyes met with Giles', and she started to shake again slightly. "Of course, you already know what needs to be laid out on an altar. Really, all I need is some runes to cast, a crystal ball if you have one or a chalice of red wine, and a stick of sage to burn." She turned her eyes to floor. "That would be about it, really."
Suddenly F-Xander gave a yelp and jumped out of his chair, sending it clattering away to the floor. He back away, one hand on the knee of his left leg, and staring beneath the table.
Out materialized D-Giles, whom no one noticed had gone missing. He gave a passing glance to F-Xander, but then turned around to face F-Willow. He rested his shaggy golden-haired head on the arm of her chair and stared at her with his deep, mournful brown eyes. They were nerving, and F-Willow scooted closer to the other side of her chair. "Yes, that's it," she said detachedly, lost in the dog's stare.
"I-I'll get the materials," Willow said, backing towards the book cage where Giles kept some of her things in stash, in case they ever needed to perform a quick rite. "I know where they are." She closed the door to the cage behind her in a hurry as she flung open the place where Giles kept the weapons, and reached behind a crossbow where the makeshift altar that she had constructed for Angel's re-souling had laid untounched for awhile.
"Here's an altar," Willow announced, pulling it out and dusting it off. Her red hair fell in front of her eyes and she shoved it back again with one hand, even though the board was so heavy that she had to steady it on her leg to keep herself balanced. She bumped out of the cage, carrying the altar. "There are some packets underneath that—"
"On no!" F-Willow cried out, jumping up and clapping a hand over her mouth, her eyes opening wide. Willow was so surprised that she dropped the board, and it made a loud crack as it split evenly in two. As Willow bent down to pick up the pieces, F-Willow started pacing towards the double doors.
"Oh my goddess," she whispered, "this is so serious." She turned back to face the group, hands clutched behind her back. "Don't you see it to? Xander and I are back here, but that's because Xander cast the spell and then I touched the book it came from while it was still resonating with magick—"
"Wait, how do you know that?" Xander asked, but F-Willow continued on over his comment and no one paid him any mind.
"—so that's why we're here. But that does *not* explain why Faith and the dog are here. I mean, that dog is a puzzle onto itself. But we can only assume that since the four of us are back, then everyone else is too." Her hand appeared, and they were streaked with red marks from where F-Willow had pressed down too hard. "That means Oz, and Cordelia, and..." she let the unspoken name hang in the air, and instead concentrated on the floor. "And other people," she finished up quietly.
"Then we have to go find them," F-Faith said when nobody else spoke up. "But where?"
"Well, let us analyze where we ended up." F-Willow sat down on the floor, unconsciously crossing her legs yoga-style, as though she was preparing for meditation. "Faith, you...?"
"Ocean," F-Faith said, hissing through her teeth again. She grabbed a bit of her hair, which had dried now and was sticky and smelled like salt. She grabbed a thick chunk between her hands and wrung it out, drops of seawater falling on the hardwood floor. "The ocean," she repeated again, wiping her hands on her leather outfit.
"Ok," F-Willow said, and played around with her tongue, letting it climb up the walls and roof of her mind. For some reason, it helped her to calm down and to think. Unfortunately, it also gave her a very grotesque appearance, most of the time. "And Xander, you?"
"The library, right where you found me." He put his chin on his hands and stared at F-Willow oddly. "Did Angel *really* 'save' you?"
F-Willow rolled her eyes. "Forget the irony right now," F-Willow said. "I'm just glad someone got me out of there. I hate the cemetery, I mean," he voice was reduced to the tiniest bit of sound. "You know how I feel about the cemetery, about what happened there." And then, with that out of her mouth, she gasped.
"I have it!" She cried, leaping up. "Again, I mean, I have it again!" She walked quickly over to F-Faith. "I mean, you're terrified of the ocean, right?" F-Faith was not one to advertise her fears, and the slayer just stared back at her with dull eyes. "Ok, don't admit it, but I know the truth." As F-Willow turned around to walk near to Xander, F-Faith's eyes bore proverbial holes in F-Willow's head. "And Xander, you were in the library 'cause of...well, you know." She paused uncomfortably.
"Point?" F-Xander asked, sighing loudly.
"It means that we all came back to a place that we hated. Faith, the ocean. Me, the cemetery. You, the library. So basically, all the others are in places that they hate. So it will be easy to find."
"That's just grand, Will," F-Xander said, standing up. He pushed that chair back in and went over to lean heavily on the banister. He wasn't feeling very good. "But just exactly where are we going to find Oz and Cordelia at? Who knows where they hate the most?"
There was a moment of silence. Present and future were consumed with trying to find out where they would find the others. Then Oz walked over to F-Willow. He put a tentative hand on her shoulder, and F-Willow felt the touch of her Oz now, and she wanted to feel it again. She just had to find him and see if he was ok.
"Um, I think I might know where I am," he said quietly. Then his eyes made the slightest flick towards Xander and Willow, and suddenly it clicked with everyone where exactly they could find Oz.
"Okay...what exactly is going on here?"
This was definitely not his balcony, not his house, and not even *Mexico*. Or, maybe, it was. Just an underground part.
This place was dark and gray and full of dust. As Oz ran his long, thin fingers across the wall, the plaster crumbled at the touch of his fingertips. The whole place was rotting away, and a distinct smell was in the air...matchsticks? Yes, but faintly. Old, used matchsticks, and the fire that resulted from it.
But this was not the only familiar smell. Oz, using his werewolf sense of smell, could detect the residual emotions left in this place, just like Willow could use her empathy to know who was the last owner of whatever she held in her hand. He could smell, in this small hole that he was, he could smell fear, panic, a tang of death, betrayal, and remorse. Pretty powerful smell for such a small place, and such a strong imprint.
Then Oz smelled something else. "Willow?" he whispered aloud, noticing her scent on the dead air. There was no answer, for the scent was stale. Stale and old, and strange, yet familiar. Something was up.
Up...Oz walked over to where he saw a hole in the ceiling, and looked up. Through the jagged opening he could see another ceiling, not too far away, and the faint outline of stairs. He was under the stairs. Plaster cracked under his feet as he stood on tiptoe and tried to peer over the hole, in case there was something there to surprise him that had the ability to trick him. But there was no one there that he could see. He would have to take a risk.
He was just about to spring up there when he heard a shriek from behind, and he jumped right out of the hole without even thinking. He caught his left foot on a sharp edge of the hole, and he fell flat on his face. Getting up on his elbows, he dragged himself up to his knees and crawled as close as he could to the hole.
He looked down, and as soon as he saw who had shrieked, dropped back into the hole.
She was just going to tell Xander about a doodling Annie had done the other day (she had drawn a wonderful picture of the whole family that was so lovingly detailed for a three-year-old) when she felt his hand grow icy. Now, it was cold outside, with it having snowed only a morning ago, but one of things that she loved about Xander was that he was always warm, no matter what temperature. She had turned from looking at the stores on the other side of the road to tell Xander to put on his gloves when she noticed that he had disappeared, and that she was lying down on the ground with a tremendous headache.
Cordelia blinked and stretched her face, trying to lift her head off of the floor. Her hair had come undone from its high, fancy bun, and the shoulder-length chocolate-colored strands stuck to her scalp in sweat. She reached a hand up to the back of her head to see if there was blood, if she had hit anything.
When she felt no dampness, she lay her head back down and turned to the right. She found herself staring at her rusty reflection.
"Wha..." Cordelia started, propping herself up on her elbows quickly. The blood rushed to her head, either of the sudden change in position or because of the sudden fright that overtook her. As she stared at the pole in front of her, the pole that still had dried blood in all the right places, she shrieked.
"Cordelia, it's me, Oz!" he called as he slid down underneath the stairs. Cordelia was sobbing now, and as soon as Oz came near her she attached herself firmly to his body. "Oh God," she mumbled, burying her head in his shoulder. Oz, glad that she didn't question what he was doing here or where here was, wrapped his arms around her and hummed soothingly, something he did when Willow got like this.
"It's ok, it's ok..." he sang softly. He wondered about Willow, but right now he had to worry about Cordelia. "What made you scream?"
Cordelia pulled back from him and looked at him. Her body language and expression read "stunned." "That," she said, turning around and pointed with one shaking finger towards the pole in the center of the room. "That pole. I was...impaled on that pole. I..." She didn't finish her sentence, just stared at the pole in silence.
Oz looked at it. He couldn't smell the blood, and that worried him. Maybe it was all the dust in the room. But then a bigger worry hit him.
"We're in the factory," he said, surprised the words were even leaving his mouth. He thought it wouldn't work, considering the total chaos his mind was currently undergoing.
"The factory?" Cordelia asked, her voice thick because her tongue only moved slightly. "But how the...I mean, is it...what's going on, Oz?" she asked. "What am I *doing* here." She turned towards him, her eyes dancing in fright. "What are *you* doing here? How, why did we get here?"
"I don't know," Oz answered truthfully, "but I think that if we go up *there*," he pointed to the hole's opening, "then we might find out."
"But the factory is in Sunnydale," Cordelia said, her voice a soft panic. "And you know how Sunnydale is. Five seconds outside and we're the victims of a vampire suckfest. Uh-huh." She shook her head fiercely, and the strands of her hair flew free from her scalp. "I'd rather stay here."
"Would you like me to go up there or do you want me to stay up here?" Oz asked, walking over to Cordelia and putting an arm on her shoulder. Cordelia raised her hand to meet his, and they smiled at each other. Oz was so sweet and considerate, and she was happy that he and Willow had gotten back together and everything. Back together even after that pushing-everybody-away thing she went through after Sunnydale had gone down in ashes.
"I don't know," Cordelia said, tightening her hold on his hand. "But you're the one with the super-hyped senses. You tell me, wolf-guy."
Oz was in the front seat, hands gripped tightly on the steering wheel, which had become slipping from his sweat. Next to him, in the other front seat, Willow said with her hands in her lap and staring at the window. Each of them were to uncomfortable to look at each other, much less sneak some looks in their general direction. The fact that Oz was called the Factory the place he most hated weighed incredible guilt on Willow's part and unpleasant memories on Oz's part. And he thought he had gotten over the whole jealous-of-Xander thing, and then Willow had to turn around and go do *that* with Xander. Oz sighed outloud.
"Are we there yet?" F-Xander called from the back, where he was scrunched up against a stack of old records, covered in black cloth and some stale Dorito chips Oz had eaten back there and forgotten to clean up. Next to him sat his younger self, who kept staring at his older self. F-Xander tried to ignore him.
"Almost," Oz answered in an odd voice. Willow shifted in her seat and stared out the window a little bit harder.
"You sound like an impatient little kid," F-Willow told him, her voice clear in Oz's ear because she was propped up against his seat. Next to her sat Buffy, who had come along in case any vampire activity showed up. "Are you *that* anxious to get there?"
"No," F-Xander said with all seriousness. "You know what happened there."
Willow frowned. "Hmm," she grumbled, musing over something.
There was a pause, and then F-Xander turned towards Xander. "So what's up?" he asked, not wanting to make F-Willow feel too uncomfortable.
Xander looked back at him, his gaze not wavering. "You mean you don't know?" he asked, his voice a bit icy.
F-Xander shrugged. "I suppose I do," he said, then look at F-Willow. "Guess I forgot."
F-Willow leaned towards her younger self and stage-whispered, "He's forgetting things because he's getting old." Then she giggled and wiggled her eyebrows at F-Xander.
"I am not old!" F-Xander said indignantly. He looked around, and as he knocked his shoulder on the stack of old records, the few Doritos fell in his lap. He picked one up and threw it at F-Willow. "Am not."
"Are too!" F-Willow shot back, and then bent over to pick up the chip, which had landed at her feet. She gathered it with her fingers and then threw it at F-Xander, hitting his stomach. "You are *so* old. You can't even hit me!"
She was answered by a Dorito right between the eyes. "Am not."
"Are too!" Dorito to the chest.
"Not!" Dorito to the chest, sliding into the bodice of her nightgown. Laughter. "I do have good aim, don't I?"
At that comment, F-Willow extended her leg and kicked F-Xander's foot "Say that in front of Oz, and he'll beat you up," she warned playfully, settling back into her seat. F-Xander put on an expression of mock horror.
{I'd better} Oz thought angrily, and then realized that they were in front of the Factory. His foot slammed down on the brake pedal, and all of the van's occupants lurched forward.
"What was that?" Buffy demanded angrily. Something that once was a hat had slid off F-Xander's stack and landed on her head. She peeled it off and put it on the floor next to her. Oz didn't turn around, just turned the key and off went the engine. He climbed out of the car, muttering "Sorry" loud enough for them to hear.
"That was wrong," F-Xander said as everyone else stayed in the van. "That *felt* wrong." F-Willow threw another Dorito at him, giggled that he had better shape up, and then crawled across the van to open the doors.
As the van door opened and everyone tumbled out, Oz went around back for a moment to collect himself. Sure, he felt emotions, just like any other human being did. But he was *not* good at showing them, or more close to the target, he was afraid of showing them. Like that little scene just now in the van, when he had slammed down on the brakes in anger. What if someone had gotten hurt? What if *Willow* had gotten hurt?
{I wish Xander would get hurt. I wish I could hurt him as bad as he hurt me. I hope he never sees Cordelia again, because he deserves to be without her. He deserves to be alone. Now that would hurt him.}
"Oz?" He turned around to see Willow right next to him. Her voice was quavering. "can we talk?"
"Uh, is there time?" Oz asked. On the other side of the van, someone was slamming the doors shut again.
"Short talk," Willow assured him. Then she averted her eyes, settling on the ground. "So this is the spot you most hate?" she asked softly, half-knowing the answer Oz would give her.
"Well, we'd, uh, have to go inside and see." Oz could see that the answer didn't cut it for her. "Look, Willow, I'm not hating you. I mean, I could never hate you. 'Cause your...well, your Willow, and I love you.
"But, I do hate Xander, and I hate what you did. That hurt me a *lot*. I mean, I've liked girls before, but I've never *loved* a girl, and I *know* that's what you I feel for you. Love, is what I feel for you." She was looking into his eyes again, and now Oz had to push his away. "And I thought you loved me back, but I'm thinking...that while you were cheating with Xander, and I told you I loved you, and you said it back to me...I'm wondering if you meant it. 'Cause for all I know, you were telling the same thing to Xander. And the way you two were on that bed." He drew in a sharp breath. "You guys must've said that to each other already."
When he looked back, Willow's eyes were brimming with tears. "I do love you, Oz," she said quietly, "and I keep kicking myself over the head for doing what I did with Xander. And I can't believe I had the *nerve* to stand like that and tell you I love you while I was...cheating on you. But I know why I did that." She waited until Oz lifted his head up to continue. "I did that because I love you, with all my heart and soul and...you know, that other stuff that people say when they're in love. And I thought I had that with Xander—for such a long time—until you came and showed me what love was really all about." She gave a little smile. "And you hear what I said. It seems that we kind of worked things out."
Oz didn't smile just yet, but he relaxed. "Yeah, I guess so." Then he let out that sharp breath he had taken. "You know what, Willow? I love you."
Willow beamed. "I love you too, Oz." And she meant it with all her heart and soul and...that other stuff.
Now he smiled.
"Hey, lovebirds?" They turned around to see Buffy standing there. "Um, Xander and Willow—I guess—are waiting out there for you guys to wrap it up." Her mouth made one straight line, a sign that meant she was in a hurry. She knew that once they got Oz, they would have to look for Cordelia next. And then, last but not least...herself.
Creepy.
"O-ok," Willow said, nodding her head. "We're there." Oz reached out for her hand, and she took it. Together they followed Buffy out into the open.
F-Xander and F-Willow were engrossed in an argument: F-Xander was holding tightly onto her arm and Willow was struggling to get out of his tight grip. "Let me *go*, Xander!" she was telling him. "Somebody's got to go in there."
"Not you. Don't you remember the last time somebody was in there? That person got impaled."
"Oh ho, I remember that being under some different circumstances," F-Willow said, arching her eyebrows and rising on tiptoe so that she looked taller. "I'm not going to run out of there because I caught my boyfriend cheating with his best friend."
"You know, I seem to remember you being a crucial part in that little fix too."
"Oh yeah, well, you were a bigger part then me!"
"Oh really? How so?"
Willow made an arrogant "hmmf" sound. She made goo-goo eyes at Xander and made her voice sound young and sing-song. "That we're old, old friends. Just very good friends who like to hang out, and can I kiss your earlobe?" Both of them set their jaws at the same time, looking like they were gonna claw each other's eyes out.
F-Xander stood his ground. "You're still not going in there."
"Well then, Mr. Caution Man, since it's so dangerous, who are you gonna send in there?"
"I dunno, little Ms. Resort-to-the-Black-Arts. How about Buffy?" F-Xander suggested, the slightest hint of cruelty evident in his voice.
Willow's eyes widened and she made an "ah!" sound. "Well, aren't we the little hypocrite," she started sharply, ready to launch into a lecture.
Xander and Willow exchanged nervous glances. "Uh," Willow the peacemaker started, but she was cut off by a sudden, familiar shout of:
"So this is *Willow's* fault? Why does everything that happens to me in this Factory has to be because of *Willow*!"
F-Xander and F-Willow looked at each other, understanding passing between them, and they both ran into the Factory at once.
"*Finally*," Xander sighed as he and the rest of the gang followed close behind.
Oz was trying to explain to Cordelia that this might be the indirect cause of a spell he, Willow, and Echo where doing the day before, but only so much could enter Cordelia Harris' head at once. She only heard the words "Willow" and "spell."
"So this is *Willow's* fault?" she fumed. "Why does everything that happens to me in this Factory has to be because of *Willow*." Oz imagined that there was smoke coming out of her ears, and he tried not to let a smile appear on his face from the comical mental image.
"Cordelia, calm down," he soothed. "Listen to e-ver-y-thing I say—"
"Oz!" "Cordelia?"
The two separate voice rang out in the emptiness of the factory. "Down here—wait, we'll be up there in a second!" Oz called out, recognized the voices of Xander and Willow. He was glad to see them—if they were stuck in Sunnydale and they were alive, then there was a chance of getting out of this town living and breathing and to find a way out of whatever mess they were in.
"Oz?" It was Xander's voice, lined with worry. "Is Cordelia down there with you?"
"Yes I am!" Cordelia answered for herself, and Oz winced at the volume. "And Alexander Harris, you better explain what the *hell* is going on when I get up there! Both to Oz and me!"
"I promise, Cordy," Xander called from up above. Cordelia relaxed at the sound of her husband's voice.
"Hey!" Oz yelled up at Xander. "I'll hoist her up there, and you grab her arms, ok? You don't have to crawl up there. And Willow?"
"Yeah?" Her voice was small and sounded like bells.
"I'll be up right after Cordy, ok?" No answer. "Everything's fine, baby. I'm here."
The answer was a very soft murmur of "I know."
Oz paused for a moment to mull over Willow's strange comment, and then shrugged it off. He grabbed Cordelia by the waist and lifted her clear over his head. He noticed that Xander had hold of her arms because Cordelia's body went taut. He pushed her up as Xander pulled and didn't let go until his hands slipped off her shoes. Then, making sure the hole was cleared, he bent his leg muscles and then let them loose, jumping out of the hole.
The scene before him so stunned him that he practically fell back down again.
What was he expecting? It was hard to put it into words. Maybe...a taller version of him. Yes, that was one thing that he was expecting—hoping was a more aptly put word, actually. And maybe he'd have gotten his grown spurt, and not be so damn lanky. And maybe he'd be able to keep his hair color just one shade, and maybe he'd have finally grown a real goatee instead of fuzz. Maybe.
Sadly, his hopes were dashed. If the gang had thought both Willow's looked alike, past Oz and Future Oz could be mistaken for twins.
They both were rather short; They both were lanky, although F-Oz was slightly thinner; Oz's hair a dulled brown (his original color) and F-Oz's a reddish-brown; they both had fuzz that half-passed for goatees or just the inability to shave. Oz was disappointed.
F-Oz was floored.
"Ok, is anybody *else* seeing double?" F-Oz asked. F-Willow turned towards him and her arm slinked around his back. Needing some sense of security himself, he hung his arm about her shoulders and pulled her close, like they had been doing on the balcony just minutes ago. Except...no jacket. Darn, he had liked that jacket, he'd had it forever; but he loved Willow more and was worried more about losing her than a half-replaceable jacket.
He noticed that she was shivering, and he wrapped another arm around her. F-Willow hugged him and they looked like one person. It was sweet.
"Yeah," F-Xander sighed, holding his own wife in his arms. "You see, seems my younger self decided to transport all of us back to the past as a 'fluke accident', and we're here, so we're stuck here until we can find a way back." He looked at F-Oz, waiting to see what he would say or do.
"That's...certainly something," F-Oz said, grasping for the right words and finding none.
"And who says things change?" Xander muttered under his breath. Buffy overheard him and flashed him grin, which he sent right back. He was watching F-Xander holding what he was pretty damn sure was F-Cordelia. And however elating, it was also strange and confusing. He had the feeling that an explanation wasn't coming his way any time soon.
"So, you're saying we're in the past...?" F-Cordelia said, her voice showing a surprising strength. Xander looked down at her, and she tilted his head up. Her nose met with his chin when they stood like that. "Oh. Ohmigod."
"We're not in Kansas anymore," Oz noted, shaking his head at what was going on.
"Yeah, well, thanks for the brilliant observation, Toto," Cordelia shot back harshly, and Oz flinched. "I'm sorry," she quickly apologized, and then brought a hand to her forehead. "Ohmigod, this is just too much..." She turned to look at everyone in the room, and as soon as her eyes landed on Buffy she whipped Xander around and began a heated and muted conversation.
Willow and Oz just stared at the almost-identical couple. They were moving their mouths as though they were speaking to each other, but no sound whatsoever came out. They went like this for awhile, everyone explaining what they were going through, and then F-Cordelia let out a long, "Oh, I get it now. But if I get the chance, I'm still gonna claw her eyes out."
"If Cordelia gets it, I get it," F-Oz whispered to his wife, and she giggled.
"Well," Buffy said, spinning a stake idly in her hands. There were no vampires tonight, and she just wanted to get the next pick-up over with. She knew she was next, and she knew exactly where she was. "Um, so now what?" Oz asked, and they all turned to look towards Buffy, who obviously would take over as the leader of the group.
"Well, I know where I am," Buffy said, trying to keep her voice flat and emotionless, like Faith often did. For all she knew, she might not even be alive still. "I definitely know the place I most hate."
"The place you most hate? Wait..." F-Oz looked between Buffy and F-Willow, and then Oz and Willow. F-Willow's grip tightened and she nodded in affirmation. They traded meaningful looks.
F-Xander turned a strange shade of purple, and then looked away from F-Cordelia. F-Cordelia noted his awkwardness and pushed away her own. She grabbed his chin—stubble, jesus, didn't the man ever take time to shave?—and looked unwaveringly into his eyes. "I forgive you," she told him low and sternly, "and don't you dare think otherwise." F-Xander gave her a wane smile, and she kissed him lightly on the mouth.
Xander almost let out an audible sigh. {Cordelia and I...back together? But if we're back together, how? The only talking she does to me now is to put me down, I can't believe she'd actually forgive me, and I want to be kissing her right now instead of my other self kissing her. It's no fair that I have to wait that long. Even though it's my fault that I have to wait.}
"So we go get...Buffy, next?" F-Cordelia asked, after she was done making sure her husband knew she held no grudge. She looked towards the younger generation with her typical "So, am I right?" look.
"Well, yeah," Buffy said, itching to get out of this Factory and over to where she thought she'd find her future self.
"Then what are we waiting for?" F-Oz asked. In his arms, F-Willow made a small shrug. "Then let's go."
It was a tight squeeze—true—and it was a bit awkward—true—but the gang and their future selves tried to make the best of it. Meaning no one was speaking.
F-Xander and F-Cordelia had claimed the back of the van, and were sprawled in comfortable positions while engaged in a conversation that included doing some strange version of patty-cake that kept sending them into fits of giggles. Xander was leaning on the doors, looking somewhere between falling asleep and gazing with confusion at the couple playing patty-cake. Buffy was on the opposite side of the doors with knees drawn up to her chin, deep in thought. F-Oz and F-Willow were leaning on the back of Oz's seat, F-Willow in F-Oz's lap, his arms wrapped tightly around her slim waist. He was whispering Shakespeare in her ear, and she had a happy and contented look in her face.
Oz was in the front seat, trying to cope with the fact that less than a foot away stood, well, himself. In fact, he was so coping with it that it was the only thing on his mind, and he forgot the very much more important thing.
"Uh, Buffy?' Oz called into the back. Everyone looked up from their respective thoughts and activities and looked at him attentively. "Where exactly are we going?"
Buffy's jaw dropped but said nothing. That was F-Cordelia's job.
"You mean you don't know?" she asked, her own jaw dropping. "Where've we been driving for the past, like, fifteen minutes?"
F-Oz scooted over to where he could see out the windshield and craned his neck. "Looks like the city limits," he said, a touch of humor in his voice.
"Oh, great one," F-Cordelia said, throwing her arms up. One of them hit F-Xander in the face, and he gently grabbed her arms and placed them in her lap. "Twelve steps," he told her sternly. "Twelve steps."
F-Cordelia looked at him cluelessly, and then once getting the point, she gave an exasperated sigh, crossed her arms over her chest, and turned away from him. "I *hate* being a better person," she grumbled, an unhappy expression on her face.
"That's funny," F-Xander said lightly, "because it seems you don't have much practice at it." F-Cordelia, astonished, turned to look at him, and then slapped him playfully on the arm. "You are such a smartass, Xander! You better be careful, or I'm gonna be serving you divorce papers."
Everyone had a good quiet laugh in the van, and Buffy was about to speak up when F-Willow reached over to her and tugged out the hat-thing she had sat on. F-Willow held it up like a trophy and then waved it in front of F-Oz's face. "We still have this!" she proclaimed proudly, and then gave him a quick kiss on the lips.
"What *is* it?" F-Cordelia asked, tapping her fingernails lightly on F-Xander's arm, which was slung casually around his wife's shoulders. F-Willow took one look at the hat-thing and shrugged. She looked at Oz, who shrugged in turn.
"I don't really care. I just like it a lot 'cause it earned me a kiss." Oz grinned, and the grin grew wider as Willow grinned back. Ah, she had the sweetest smile...
"I hate to break this moment," Buffy interrupted, a wistfulness evident in her voice—obviously wishing for happier time—"but it seems our ride has stopped."
It had indeed. Oz was turned around with one arm draped over the headrest of his chair, looking over at Buffy. "So, where are we going?" he asked calmly.
"You're on the right road," Buffy assured him.
"But we're almost the to edge of Sunnydale," Willow pointed out, doubt evident in her voice. "Are you sure we're going the right way?"
"I'm sure," Buffy said confidently. "We're headed to the mansion."
~~~~Meanwhile, back at the library, a place filled with characters the author has been ignoring thus far, and she apologizes for that very fact...~~~~
Giles was seated at the table with the Pergamum Codex in front of him, a surefire way of figuring out what in the bloody hell was going on around here. Buffy, Xander, Willow, Oz, F-Xander, and F-Willow had gone out to round everyone else, leaving F-Faith behind to pretend to help him research. And also leaving that bloody dog here to destroy his library.
D-Giles was currently nosing his wet muzzle through some very ancient and hard-to-replace books. "Hey, get!" he told the dog. D-Giles lifted his head to look at him for a second, wet brown eyes meeting Giles', and then the dog turned back to "reading" the covers.
"Shoo!" Giles tried again, wanting to drive the dog away but not wanting to put any physical effort into it. This time, when he dog looked up at him, D-Giles gave his namesake a who-do-you-think-you-are-ordering-ME-around-like-that looks that reminded Giles too much of Cordelia to give him the power to keep a straight face.
"Just call it by its name." Giles turned his head around and saw F-Faith leaning her chair back on two legs, one wicked-looking black boot sitting on top of the table, and the slayer herself giving it a literal spit-shine. "Call it by its name and tell it to fucking stop it. 'Shoo' ain't gonna cut it, gramps."
Giles shook his head at her dirty mouth as he turned back to face the dog, who had taken the Malleus Maleficarum by the teeth. "Giles!" he said sharply, feeling extremely ridiculous. D-Giles looked up at, surprised that this impudent stranger was commanding authority. But that's all it took: a sharp glare, the mention of his name, and a "bad dog! Don't do it again!" verse once or twice. D-Giles hung his head and jumped down from the chair in which he had perched upon, slinking away to sulk in a corner.
"Um, thank you," Giles said to F-Faith, who ignored him. He sighed and took his glasses off, running a hand nervously through his hair.
"You're welcome," F-Faith muttered, trying to see if it was true, that you could see your own reflection in your shoes if they were shiny enough. She snorted. "Bullshit."
"Pardon me?" Giles said, surprised. F-Faith took one look at him and shook her head sadly, wondering why she had to stay guard over both helpless puppies.