Body

9

"Christina! Christina! Wake up, wake up honey, it's only a dream." Angel tried to make himself heard over his wife's screams. She had nightmares, yes, but never like this. She never lay trapped in it screaming, it sounded, for her life.

Christi's eyes flew open. For a moment they stared at nothing like dead eyes. The silence was almost shocking after her screams. She looked at him. "Angel?" Her voice sounded watery.

"I'm right here, I'm right here," he murmured to her as she sobbed into his chest. It took a few moments for her to compose herself. "Are you okay?"

She nodded mutely, sniffling.

"Let me get you something to drink, okay," he asked as if talking to a child. If she noticed, she didn't mention it.

Christina nodded.

When Angel returned she was laying in bed, looking calmer. He handed her the water then sat next to her while she drank. "Is that better? Can you tell me about it," he asked as she sipped the water.

Handing the glass back to Angel she shook her head. "I can't... remember a single thing about it," Christina answered in almost wonder. "All I know is that I was in trouble and either I didn't know how to use my Slayer powers or maybe I didn't realize I could but it's--," she whispered, "it's like I was dying."

"Were you?" He was almost afraid to ask.

She shook her head slowly. "I don't know. I don't know."

Angel hugged her close, "Then maybe it was just a bad dream, a nightmare. That would explain why you've forgotten it."

"No! No, this isn't like my nightmares. I know, I know I sometimes talk in my sleep, but screaming?! I never react that way. I usually just wake up terrified."

Her breathing was becoming shallow again, Angel noticed. "It's okay, it's all right. Look, there's a first time for everything." Christi looked doubtful. "Have you ever screamed in your dreams?" She shook her head. "But you were this time weren't you?" She nodded. "Then that explains it. It was your first screaming nightmare so you woke up screaming. No big deal after all, huh?"

Christi smiled. "I guess not. Thank you."

"Hey," Angel smiled back, "no problem. Think you can go back to sleep?"

"Yeah," she moved beneath the covers, "I think I can. Wake me for my class?"

"Sure." He left the room as his wife fell asleep. Although he'd just alleviated her fears, Angel had his own. Somehow, he just couldn't prove it yet, her nightmare was connected to his own "dreams." (They were more like visions than dreams.) All he was waiting for now was word from Hermoine.

"And it hurt so much," Christina murmured, half sleep. Angel didn't hear.

10

Angel was finishing dinner when Christina came home. "How was class?"

She hung her jacket on the coat rack in the foyer and dropped her bag on the bed. "My prof's a shorty on speed," she called out to him. "Well, actually this guy called him Carlton on speed," Angel laughed, "but it looks like it's going to work out all right."

"Great. And you're just in time for dinner."

"So I smelled! What're you making? I'll do desert unless you have that covered."

"No, go right ahead."

"Hey did you get those stick thingies from the Magick Shoppe?"

"Uh-huh. What're they for anyhow?"

Pulling three or so containers of various berries out of the fridge she shrugged. "I'll show you later." Angel nodded, bent over their plates.

Never was Christi so happy that she'd married a man who could cook than when she came home from a late class. Her own cooking skills were fine actually, but she lacked the imagination to make anything more than average. Well, that's what Angel was for.

He noticed she kept looking at him over her fork of food or glass of iced tea. "So," by way of bridging a silence that was becoming awkward, "anything interesting at school?"

She shrugged, "No. Why?"

"I don't know. You just seem -- anxious about something."

"I'm okay," she answered around a forkful of fettucini.

They kept eating. Something was bothering her, but he wasn't going to pry. Eventually it would come out. From the beginning Christina was never very good at keeping secrets from Angel. Sometimes he'd felt he knew her better than Bish--

"How would you feel if we were going to have a baby?"

He looked up, shocked.

"You don't want a baby, do you," she said almost mournfully. When they'd gotten married they couldn't have children -- Angel had still been a vampire -- but Christi had always gotten the impression that he didn't want one anyway. At least not yet. "And I knew...I knew you didn't want them but I thought--"

"No, no," Angel cut her off mid-ramble, "that's not it at all. I was just--surprised. I meanthis is a little surprising. Wow."

"No, it's all right," but he wouldn't let her finish.

"I'm so happy. This is great." He stood up to hug her. Christi protested the whole time. "When did you have time to go to a doctor?"

Finally! "I, I didn't. As far as I know I'm not pregnant."

"Huh?" In their five years of marriage she'd finally managed to utterly confused him.

Christina smiled and laughed, "I was just asking how you would feel."

"Then why did you get so upset?"

She sighed and said, "Because I really want to have a baby and I was afraid that you still don't. I've just been so tired lately and ill-feeling that I decided to go to my doctor tomorrow. What if she tells me I'm pregnant, I wanted to know how you'd feel."

"But what made you think I didn't want children?"

"Angel," she looked up at him, "when we were dating you never talked about kids. They didn't come up while we were affianced and still didn't during our first year of marriage." Christi shrugged, "Most couples talk about children. They dream and plan how many they'll have, if they want a boy or girl, what their kids will grow up to be, and what kind of parents they'll make. Its just...normal. Even if to say both or one doesn't want any." She laid her head against his chest.

"And we never talked about any of that did we?"

She nodded.

"So you figured that I didn't want children."

She nodded again.

"And you didn't bring it up because you're so nice and didn't want to press it, right?"

Smiling into his chest, she nodded.

"And it probably didn't help that we couldn't at first," Angel said more to himself than to his wife. "I should have realized. I'm sorry, Christi," he apologized as he kissed her head.

"Don't apologize."

He pushed her away slightly to look down at her, "I should. I knew how important children were to you when we met. If you want to start trying--"

"No! That's not what I want. I mean it is! I mean, ugh! I want kids, but could we talk about this more before we kind of jump into this? I'm still doing my grad work and your always busy and--"

Angel laughed, "All right. All right, a little discussion then some fun, how about that?"

On tiptoe Christi managed to kiss his chin. "Come on, dinner's getting cold."

11

"Christina?"

"Hey Angel. I didn't expect you back from patrolling so soon." Her back is to him.

"Yeah, well, tonight's a little slow," he says, walking up to her. "So why are you here at the Mansion? I thought you were going out with your friends. That's why I agreed to cover for you."

Is that a sniffle? "I did go out, but, I don't know, I just kind of got tired of it."

He is behind her now, "Tired of it? That doesn't sound like you. Anyway, that still doesn't explain why your at my place."

Now that is a sniffle. She gives what sounds like a teary laugh, "Avoiding Bishop, why else?"

He lightly touches her shoulders, "So what's really wrong?"

Stepping away from him, she quickly wipes her eyes. "What do you mean?"

"You haven't had an evening to yourself in months. You've fallen in love with the Bronze and isn't your friend Sonji playing there tonight," he asks reassuringly.

"Yeah, well," and she lets it trail off.

He steps up to her again and firmly places his hands on her shoulders. "Turn around," he says quietly.

She shakes her head. "Nothing's wrong."

"You're crying."

"It's nothing."

"Tell me about it."

She shakes her head again.

Sighing, he said, "You came here for a reason, either to hide from someone or something, but you did come to my house. Unlike you, I can't bar you , but I can ask for a straight answer. Why are you here?"

Turning, she says, "I saw Robert at the Bronze tonight kissing some girl."

Her eyes are red-rimmed from crying, and her cheeks are puffy. "How long have you been crying," he asks in a low, concerned whisper.

"I don't know," she says weakly.

Her lower lip is trembling as she looks everywhere but his face, trying to contain burgeoning tears. "Are you sure it was him?" He sounds flat even to himself.

"Mm-hmm." Covering her face with her hands she turns her back and sobs. "How could he? How could he," she asks between wrenching sobs.

Angel turns her around and holds her close. "There, there, it's all right, I'm here for you." he murmurs awkwardly, that and other nonsense.

She continues asking "why" between sobs. Why her, why now, why hadn't she been enough. He shushs her as he rocks her back and forth.

"It's not your fault. Don't worry about it."

"I thought he loved me. He was my first love," she sobs into his chest. "Why?" she pounds his chest, "why?," and again, "why?" sobbing harder each time. "Why?!" And with that she completely collapses against him.

Angel is surprised to realize he has changed. All because some guy named Robert (he'd never really paid attention to Christina's relationship, or lack thereof.) has hurt her. He calms himself.

When his features return to normal he picks her up -- she offers no resistance, only whimpering weakly into his chest -- and carries her to the couch. "It's all right, Christina," he says gruffly, trying to keep what has happened out of his voice. "He wasn't in love with you," he pauses. "You two didn't?"

She manages a surpisingly harsh laugh. "No, we didn't have sex. But we came close, so close." This only makes her cry harder. Angel wishes he hadn't brought it up. "I loved him so much and all he wanted was my body. My least attractive feature no less."

Angel doesn't respond. He props her up against some pillows. "I'll get you some water, that'll help calm you." Standing slowly he looks down at her. She looks back with the kind of trust you can only give to someone you've laid bare your heart to. And she just has, hasn't she?

He looks down at her and realizes that he cares for her. Maybe even falling in love with her.

When he returns with the water she is standing. "Do you have any tissues," she asks.

After he shakes his head she checks her bag for some. Turning back to him, tissue in hand she asks, "Can we spar?"

"Sure."

12

"Hermoine, what'd you find?"

"Nothing, Angel. I'm sorry." She pushed her glasses up her nose.

He nodded. "That's all right because I've kind of got another problem."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, and it's a little strange--"

Snorting, Hermoine said, "And what isn't strange around here."

"Uh huh. Anyhow, it concerns Christina. Lately she's just not been, I don't know, normal."

The look she gave him said, And how helpful is that?

"Yeah, I know, details. Um, she's acting like a teenager. It's like she's reverting back to the girl I met in New York City. She's not the self-sufficient Slayer training with Bishop, the one I fell in love with and she's not acting like the grad student who happens to be my wife."

Genuinely worried, Hermoine asked, "You mean she's forgotten her whole life before New York?!"

"No, no!" Angel tried to reassure her, "Nothing like that. It's not her mind that's relapsed, it's her emotional state. The girl I met was very smart and just as unsure of herself. She was pretty but thought she was generic. Christina wasn't my choice for the next Slayer and I honestly didn't think she would make it. And now--"

"Now she's acting like that again. Isn't it possible there are other reasons?"

Angel shrugged. "I guess so. She's going to her doctor today, so we'll see what she says."

"Do that Angel," she pushed up her glasses again, "and tell me what happens. We'll take it from there."

"Thank you Hermoine, don't know what I'd do without you."

"All the research I'll be doing," she said with a snort.

Angel laughed.

Sobering for a moment he held up a sliver of red wood to the viz screen. "Do you know what this is?"

"Oh, Stix? Yeah. I'll show you later. At least that's not something else I'll have to research."

Angel laughed again.

13

"Who are you? You shouldn't be here," Christina said, wide eyed to the girl who strolled toward her. "Justina?"

Justina walked up to Christi. "What are you doing here? And what do mean 'I shouldn't be here?' Angel sent me," she said derisively.

"No, you don't understand!" She pulled Justina close, "He's a monster."

The girl laughed and pushed her away. "Your just saying that 'cause he finally realized what a loser you and Rachel are." Justina looked around. "Where is Rache?"

For the first time in nearly an hour Christina remembered her best friend. "Ohmigod! Rachel, I haven't seen her since we ran into the park."

"This park?" Justina looked around warily.

Christi shook her head, "No, no." She paused then grabbed the girl's arm, "We have to get away from here Justina. I don't care what you say, but I think Angel killed Rachel and I think he plans to kill us, too."

"You are whacked!" Justina looked at her as if she was crazed.

"Nope, she's quite sane," Angel said, stepping from behind a tree, "but hopefully not for long."

The girls looked at him in shock, fear beginning to dawn in Justina's eyes. "You should have listened to Christina and run." He motioned to the tree he appeared from, "I've been back here listening to your little conversation, I might have even let you go. You know," he talked to Christi, "you should have just left her to her fate. This one deserves it," and he changed.

Justina screamed.

"Now, now, that's not part of the game, isn't that right Christina?"

Christi, on the other hand, found a surprising calm as she tightened her grip on the fellow teen. "Come on."

"But, but--"

"He wants us to run," she said with cold composure, "at least this way we'll have a chance," she said quietly. "If we don't he'll just kill us here, isn't that right?"

Angel smiled, "I love smart toys."

Pulling Justina behind her, Christina ran headlong for the forest, past Angel into the well kept brush.

"Run pets! Run straight into my arms!" His voice called after them.

And they ran.

Hermoine sat before the computer. Tedious though research seemed to her ward, Mayja, she enjoyed it. Rummaging through the old tomes -- though many had been transferred to computer files by Rupert Giles and the Witch Willow -- cross referencing sources, coming up with a solution to a problem that was otherwise insolvable -- to be honest Hermoine simply enjoyed discovering the knowledge. Not even all Watcher's shared her love for the simple knowledge and those who did usually became Researchers. Hermoine hadn't been the kind for simple Research, though.

Feeling slightly stumped she connected to the WatchNet. She checked the user online list and found who she was looking for.

Bishop, may I speak with you? She sent the query and waited.

"Is he following us," Justina asked in a breathless rush.

"He could be running right beside us for all we'd know," she, too, was breathless. They stopped at the tangled branches of an old oak.

Snap! A twig broke somewhere behind them.

Justina jumped up. "He's right behind us isn't he?! Isn't he?!" The girl ran off in her fright.

"No! Justina, don't go by yourself!" But the girl was gone. And so's her fool life, Christina thought bitterly to herself. Should she run after her? Probably not, but she was going to anyway.

Of course Hermoine, Bishop typed back. How can I be of service?

She smiled when his message popped up. Present and past Watchers of active Slayers tried to keep in touch, but it could be hard to find them. Watchers weren't always social creatures. They were historians, they were people interested in the supernatural, they came from a long line of Watchers-- some were born from a long line of recluses too -- and, most of all, they were English.

I need some information about your ward, Christina the Vampire Slayer, she sent.

LOL, he said to indicate laughter, I didn't realize u could be so flowery Hermoine.

She snorted to herself. Come now Bishop, u know me better than that. Will u help me?

Of course.

Sighing to herself, she sent, What's the strangest thing that has ever happened to Christina?

Hmm, I'll have 2 think about that. Let me check my journals.

WAIT!!! she "shouted" at him. I already did that.

Apparently she'd gotten his attention because he responded immediately with, I would hope so! I'd heard u were an exceptional Watcher, I wouldn't like to discover otherwise. I meant my personal journals. Those r a little more extensive. Will you b online a while longer?

No, I actually have things to do in the morning. Email them 2 me, will u?

Of course. Good-night Hermoine.

Good-night Bishop.

"Justina!" Christina called in a fierce hiss. She'd been chasing the girl for ten minutes. Angel had been following her almost all along. Oh certainly, she'd been able to elude him occasionally, but searching for that girl had made her less cautious.

And she was afraid. He could smell it coming off her in waves. She was afraid for that stupid nitwit and for herself. Christi had never forgotten why she was out here, running, in the first place. She knew that he followed her. Run pets! Run into my arms! she heard his voice with every whisper of the wind. It was no trick of her mind, she was sure. He was taunting her, stoking her fears. Even her bitten finger ached. If she stopped running she would simply collapse on her knees and cry till he came for her. No! That wasn't an option. Christina had to find Justina and, if it was possible, stop Angel.

But could she?

"Justina!" she hissed.

Twigs snapped and leaves crunched underfoot somewhere behind her. Her gossamer resolve snapped. Christina ran headlong into the woods, not minding the semi-bare spring branches that slapped her face or the way errant bushes snagged her "skirt." All she heard was the sound of feet behind her with a slim hope of freedom before her.

It was some time before she noticed that no one was there any longer. Slowing she made her way into a clearing, the same clearing from where she and Justina had split. Spinning around, confused, she realized she'd been herded here. And she saw him.

Angel walked into the clearing, bearing Justina limply in his arms. Christi watched, horrified. He looked down at the nearly dead girl. "She was tasty. Not as satisfying as your friend, but then again she's not exactly pure if you know what I mean." He cocked his head, "I see you don't. She's been sniffing -- coke I suspect. Ah, but you wouldn't know about that. Bet you don't even imbibe," he was speaking more to himself than to her, realizing that she was a captive audience, in a manner of speaking. "But," he looked up at her, "if you'd like to find out what it's like, I'll share," he said as his face changed.

She ran then, the sound of his laughter at her heels.

Angel was right behind her, then he wasn't. He was playing with her mind again, she knew. One moment she felt Angel's breath on her neck, the next letting her think she'd dodged away just in time only for him to suddenly appear in her path.

Unexpectedly, there he was. She couldn't stop herself from running straight into his arms.

"Hello again. So very nice to see you, I was just about ready for my midnight snack," he said merrily before snarling, his features hard and alien, eyes inhuman.

Christina screamed as he bit into her neck.

14

Angel jerked upright. His muscles ached, his body sweaty from exertion-- vampires didn't sweat -- as his heart pounded. He wondered whether it was from the physical effort or the mental image of killing his wife.

Hermoine. He had to call Hermoine tonight, if not tomorrow. There was something more to these dreams than mere coincidence. They were parts of a sequence, real as any memory, that someone or thing was determined he know. Were They trying to convey some allegorical message? Then why use the image of himself and his wife and a night that had been the beginning for them, instead of an ending.

They, they, they... Thinking of Them, the Other, reminded him of his rare encounters with the spokespersons for The Powers That Be. They were an otherworldly pair. Dressed in the style of the Ancient Greeks, they sported blue flowered designs on their faces, arms and necks of their gold skin. Brother and sister though they appeared to be, but for all Angel knew they were celestial lovers. He remembered finding their murdered bodies of the first pair. What he did know was they'd answered his questions before, that it was expected he'd bring a gift, the woman was kinder than the man and he'd have to find someone who knew how to open the Door.

15

Hermoine checked her e-mail early the next morning. Usually she handled things like this during school hours, especially during the first few periods of class when she was least likely to be disturbed. Unfortunately Ms. Rogets' 20th Century American History classes were going to be in the library for the entire morning. That meant Hermoine had to play High School Librarian all day and would probably have very little time to herself. She'd even had to reschedule training with Mayja till much later tonight, just before patrol. It was going to be a tiresome day.

Twelve messages, one of them new, Hermoine smiled to herself reading the screen. She scrolled down. There it was. Former Slayer Query, he'd put in the subject box. She wondered how long he'd stayed up looking for this. She opened the file.

    If you don't remember, though I'm sure you do, you asked what is the strangest thing that's happened to myself and the Slayer Christina during her tenure. While checking my personal journals I discovered reference to something I might have left out of my official journals.
    During her fourth year as Slayer, Christina was caught between alternate realities of our universe. You will remember there is precedence for this as during the tenure of the Slayer Buffy when Cordelia foolishly asked then-demon Anya for a world w/o the slayer. In this world kind, friendly comrades of Buffy's, Xander and Willow were the favored vampires of the Master, who had not been killed filling the niche created by Spike and Drusilla. Angel was little more than Willow's pet for torture, and Sunnydale was all but abandoned.
    Christina was drawn into another variation of our reality in which Angel turned her into a vampire before she could realize her destiny. I was able to retrieve her from it before irreparable damage was done. However, the spirit of her vampire self followed her into our reality taking over her body. The change was so complete that she herself could become a vampire. The changes, luckily, did not last for long as their souls were in constant battle. It would seem that Christina is a receptacle for the actions of the supernatural as she has been known to see ghosts, has occasionally been possessed by them and other activities with the supernatural. As far as I know she has mastered these "gifts" -- she does not think of them as such.
    Hopefully this has helped you. Contact me for any more information.
    Bishop

Yes! Contacting Bishop had been an excellent idea. Angel had said something similar, if not identical, to what the Watcher had sent. She must contact him immediately. Not only Angel, but she must talk to Bishop again and involve him in the dilemma. Yes, this was working out quite well.

Going off-line, Hermoine drank the dregs of her Darjeeling tea, grimaced and prepared to go to "work."