Disclaimer: the author does
not claim ownership to the characters or plot development mentioned from
"Buffy the Vampire Slayer" or "Angel". These properties expressly belong
to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, Greenwolf Corporation, 20th Century Fox Television,
WB Network, etc. Any other characters contained in the original story are
the author's.
Season One Historical Note:
The action in this story takes place after "To Shanshu In L.A."
ON THE ROAD TOWARDS RECONCILIATION
by Evan Como
Chapter Four
Seated in front of the computer's
monitor, Cordelia repeated her balletic arm movements while the program
continued loading. Leaning into third position made surveillance of Wesley
easier; lifting out of it made her wonder how he had more energy despite
getting less sleep.
At least he didn't snore.
At least, not that she had heard, anyway.
Animated hand gestures corresponded
with the fight Wesley was relating. Gale's eyes were widely attentive.
As Cordelia listened, she realized now much more interesting Wesley' story
was in its newer, exaggerated version.
Upon their arrival, Gale
had exclaimed "I-can't-believe-it's-*you*-guys-they-sent!" in almost one
syllable. "Oh my God! Oh, God! O, God! Wesley! Ohmigod, Angel! Oh wow.
Cordelia? Hi! Oh, man! Wesley, you look amazing!" Cordelia had wanted to
slap Gale to make her stop bouncing. Swiveling at the waist, Cordy used
her fifth position stretch to size up the calmer version of the female
she'd met six hours earlier.
Until a pair of rambunctious
eight year-olds blocked her view. "Mister! Mister!" The taller boy offered
a crumpled sheet of paper to Wesley.
"Make us another!" his companion
demanded.
Gale, laughing, shoved off
the wall she'd been leaning against and strolled across the library's hardwood
floor, slipping a sheet of paper out of the printer bin. "You'll have to
be more careful, you two. Wesley is here to help me, not to make paper
airplanes," she chided, handing the loose leaf to Wesley.
With uneaqualed dexterity,
Wesley folded and crimped another prototype of paper aerodynamics. Smiling
broadly, he lifted the dart and effortlessly flicked his wrist, sending
the airplane sailing into the next room with the two boys drafting its
wake.
"Well, I think we may have
another two minutes of peace before they destroy *that* one," he proclaimed.
Gale tousled Wesley's hair.
Wesley blushed.
Tibo appeared and pushed
a glass of Kool-Aid at Cordelia's nose. "Her behavior is obscene," he commented
under his breath before claiming the seat next to the bureau.
During a sip, Cordelia regarded
her fellow Messenger. He was kind of a strange-looking guy, but she'd
seen uglier. At least he didn't slobber or smell raunchy. Refreshed,
she had nearly set the last third of the beverage down before Tibo whisked
it from her hand and hurried back to where he'd come from -- probably to
make a refill.
She smiled to herself. "My
first fan," escaped Cordy's lips before she realized that Tibo's enthusiastic
attentions were borderline fan*atic*.
"Excellent idea to bring
along your Demon data base, Cordelia," Wesley commented over her shoulder
while checking the installation's progress.
"I'm not sure there's enough
memory on this system to hold it, though," she replied to no one in particular.
Wesley had moved in front
of the built-in bookcase, its polished mahogany shelves stacked with row-upon-row
of every subject suitable for children. He stroked a couple bindings as
he read aloud the titles he recognized from his own childhood, greatly
impressed with their preservation.
"You should read to the kids
tonight," Gale said. "They'd get a kick out of hearing your voice."
"Really?" He turned and rested
back. His arms, spread wide, gripped a shelf at hip-level. "I'm sure if
you wanted to, you could find your own voice."
Cordelia didn't need a premonition
to decide that whatever was happening around her was too weird to be good.
INSTALLATION COMPLETE blipped across the monitor and she rebooted the system
just as Trixie hurried the two boys through the room. She couldn't help
but frown in kind when they held up yet another flight disaster.
"I'll get these two in the
vanpool and then the house is all yours."
"Have you seen Angel?" Cordelia
asked. Trixie pointed back to the room she'd come from before scuttling
away.
A shriek from behind the
draperies called attention to the room's huge front window. There, Gale
was mummified in heavy floor-to-ceiling floral-printed damask while Wesley
prodded her with two fingers. They giggled in unison, their voices nearly
matched.
"Puh-leeze." Cordelia rolled
her eyes away from the silliness before being bombarded with another beverage.
Tibo said nothing his face
didn't already express.
"I think we're ready." Cordy
subtly placed the glass to the side in an effort not to offend. "Lemme
go get Angel."
"The Warrior communes," Tibo
explained with one telling finger on top of Cordy's wrist.
Cordelia slipped away from
Tibo's suggestion. Under the arch dividing the library from the living
area, she located Angel curled atop a loveseat in the darkest corner. Deciding
that 'commune' was as good a description as any for Angel's scribbling
ferocity, she returned to her chair.
It was difficult to believe
that it had been two months since Angel had lost his place and nearly lost
both she and Wesley. Cordy had looked forward to Angel's company. She had
offered the accommodations as a small way to repay Angel for everything
he'd been doing for her since the almost-year they'd been in Los Angeles
together. Hers was as good a place to hang as any while the
vampire readjusted to Post-Scroll unlife and searched for a new home.
And, for the first week, it had been fun.
Well, fun in an Angel kinda
way, fun.
She knew how hard Angel worked
at remaining in good spirits for her sake. Cheer, never his forté,
became increasingly difficult as the relocation process moved into futility
territory. She didn't doubt that not wanting to leave her unprotected played
some part in his being unable to find a suitable apartment. That if Angel
wasn't physically there, some great harm may befall her again.
Each Vision she received
pained the Warrior, as well. Circumstances had gotten to the place where
Wesley was nearly confined to her couch since Angel couldn't bear not knowing
where either of them were at all times. By week six, the over-concern had
become Angelically-obsessive and suffocating. Her efforts to become a more
empathetic person had been teaching her to keep certain feelings to herself
and she accepted that his mood swings were just additional pieces of the
living-with-Angel puzzle. After all, Angel wouldn't be living with her
forever. Which, as soon as it came to mind, didn't make much sense considering
that Angel's forever would always be a heckuva lot longer than hers.
Cordelia sighed, impatient.
The computer even had its version of forever.
Gale snickered against Wesley's
arm. He tittered into her hair. She swatted him playfully and he elbowed
her ribs.
If only Wesley got along
as well with Phantom Dennis. Although, maybe with the help of a few paper
airplanes, he and the ghost could bond. Or, she could install one of those
behind-the-door basketball nets and they could Nerf their way to nivana.
Cordelia smiled, then remembered that there was barely enough moving around
space for two people to pass by one other. And, with Angel occupying the
only bedroom during the day...
Man, she missed privacy.
When Whistler had shown up
with the airline tickets and their new assignment, Cordy had decided to
treat the excursion as a vacation. They'd all still be together but it
would be a different type of togetherness. The whole idea of being someplace
other than her apartment had been so thrill-worthy that she hadn't argued
when Angel refused to let her call their wealthy acquaintance, David Nabbitt,
to get their seats upgraded from coach.
And, Wesley had been "giddy"
-- his exact word -- to be included. He'd verified three times and once
again that it wasn't a fluke and he, Wesley Wyndam-Pryce, was not only
an integral member of the Angel Investigations Team, his attendance had
been directly requested by The Powers That Be. Wesley's grand whoopee had
whee'd Angel for, like, all of a half-hour until reality hit: that not
only Cordelia, with mind-numbing Visions, was tied to the demonic underworld,
the ex-Watcher had been lassoed, too. With Angel pacing furiously, Cordelia's
book-stacked and over-filled apartment / way-longer-than-originally-planned
office became even more claustrophobic.
In front of a colorful star-pocked
accomplishment chart, Wesley performed a sleight-of-hand with silk irises.
After whipping the bouquet across Wesley's hip, Gale took them to heart.
It was during Cordelia's
six-week auto show hostessing tour Gale had become her temporary replacement.
Wesley had been tight-lipped about Gale's substitute Messengering, but
something had visibly changed him. At the airport to pick Cordy up, the
lanky man had been less awkward and an ultra-serioso maturity gloomied
his eyes. Months after Angel's 100% recovery from necromongracy, Wesley
still wore the look of the terminally angsty -- a look not unlike the one
that Angel used to wear before taking a Spring turnaround trip to Sunnydale.
A look that fled Wesley's
features faster than Gale had flown downstairs.
First Gale, then the apartment
explosion cemented Wesley's and Angel's friendship. In the past, it had
always been Wesley who felt excluded from Angel's and Cordelia's relationship.
No one ever bothered examining how excluded she sometimes felt from theirs.
One more thing she'd learned
to keep to herself.
"You slept with her, didn't
you?" Cordelia probed often. But Wesley never confessed and Angel pretended
as if Gale had been nothing more than a blip in their lives.
The DemonicChick of Discord
wore her 475'ish immortal years well, as well as Angel wore his 245. Or
250. Or maybe he was older. Or younger. Cordy could never get a straight
answer from Angel if his immortal age included alive time or not. And,
then there was that whole extra century that got tacked on (and that he
never included) by living in hell, courtesy of Buffy. Actually, including
the Buffy hell-years...
Even without the math, it
would take every ounce of Cordelia's ThoughtfulGirl effort to avoid pointing
out how similar Angel and Gale were -- right down to their Pop-n-Fresh
tummies.
"She will meet judgment."
Tibo's rasp sifted into Cordelia's
subconscious and scraped along her nerves as the other Messenger leered
at his Warrior.
One hour later the quartet
had yet to make any logistical progress, a severe lack of information providing
the explanation. "And the Hurricane Ridge location when you got there?"
Wesley asked. His pencil's eraser tapped another location on the map draped
across his lap.
Gale, seated straight-legged
on the floor, leaned back onto her palms. "Like all the others -- empty.
In fact, if it wasn't for the local Rangers, Wesley, I wouldn't have been
able to confirm that there'd been any campers at all."
Wesley flipped the giant
map of the Olympic National Park over to study its Pacific Ocean side,
verifying three additional circled campsites before folding it back to
the eastern section. One of the items on his sightseeing list was a visit
to the forest -- for recreation, however, not over mysterious disappearances.
Cordelia scrawled onto her
pad, "two adults and two teenagers. And you're not seeing any of this in
your Visions, Tibo?" she asked, twisting her chair in his direction. Even
though he diverted his eyes, Cordy knew what he'd been staring at -- Gale's
foot knocking Wesley's.
"My Visions are incomplete,"
Tibo stated coarsely. Gale huffed at a light fixture.
Cordelia turned her back
on Tibo. "You know, Wesley, it doesn't make any sense. How come I get Vision-rama
in glorious sensory perception and Tibo only gets little bitty flashes?
I bet they don't even hurt! It's not fair. Do you think we can trade Gifts?"
"*You* can see with all your
senses," Gale remarked, dispatching a scowl past Cordelia's arm.
"Shhhhah-yeah!"
"Smell?" Tibo asked, awed.
"Smell is no prob. Smell,
I can deal with. It's the tasting part that gets me." Cordy gagged for
emphasis, as if coughing a fur-ball.
Tibo bowed his head. "Perhaps
I do not yet have the experience to integrate these other perceptions."
Cordelia extended her arms
above her head and rose into them. "Maybe. How long have you had your gift?"
"Only six."
"See? There ya go!" she said
with a snap, commiserating, "that's about how long I've been getting 'em
and I'm still learning lots."
"And six months is a relatively
short span of time," Wesley absently commented. While sharing his cartography
with Gale, his dulled pencil poked right through the plasticized paper
when Tibo clarified the time frame as 'years'.
Wesley visually followed
the two Messengers exiting the room -- with Tibo as Cordelia's unshakable
shadow. "I don't claim to know everything about the Gift, Gale, but just
my short exposure to it through Cordelia and then, you... Trixie had hinted
that Tibo is inadequate, but surely you've tried to help him?"
Rage shrouded Gale's oval
face; her eyes clouded with contempt. "Sorry, Wes, but I'm no help at all
to Tibo," she spat. "You know, with me just being a low-life Warrior and
all."
Before Wesley could respond,
Gale ill-spirited from the room.
-0-
The two-story dwelling was
filled with an eclectic mix of traditional furnishings and appointments
from the world 'round. Atop the maternal sideboard sat a genuine Grecian
Urn; between the paternal armchairs stood a maple table from The New World;
and spread over the floors lay every size and shape of rug, from the simplest
native sheepskin to intricate, loomed designs from the most exotic place
of all -- The Orient.
Liam always found the rugs
fascinating. Whenever a new one was delivered to the house it spent the
first two weeks hanging in the stable to rid it of any strange odors --
like being at sea too long or, the natural scent of a country of origin,
countries where the sun always shone.
The carpets were so bright,
Liam reasoned that the sheep in foreign countries must come in different
colors. He imagined ewes fattened on the Irish rainbows his father gathered
and exported.
The rugs, after doing penance,
would be allowed inside to decorate the hardwood floors for a while until
they were eventually banished and replaced by others. It was a curious
cycle that Liam enjoyed since it meant, every few months, he and his brother
could sit by the hearth and be entertained by the yarns their father spun
about each new acquisition -- tales of smuggling from funny-sounding foreign
lands.
And the mighty Atlantic was
the access to it all, whether by voyage or tale.
As a prominent port town,
Galway, Ireland, by 1732 had become a burgeoning center of commerce and
Liam's father, an astute businessman who spent long days toiling at his
fledgling business, took part in the activity. No matter how hard he worked,
the devout Roman Catholic reserved Sundays for his family, with his two
boys always the center of his attention.
(Unbeknownst to his children,
their father had applied considerable talent to protecting his family from
the country's prevailing hostilities -- the result of English domination.
That they lived in county Connacht, where most of the Roman Catholic population
had been herded to, no doubt abetted his success. The edicts prevailing
over the rest of the country were in effect there, too, but to a lesser
degree, making life less harsh for a determined young householder.)
His children were given everything
their father was physically capable of providing. Dressed in the finest
clothing within their means, Liam rarely found himself wearing carefully
mended hand-me-downs. He and his brother were never obliged to share.
Unless by their choosing.
With a barefaced smile and
without reservation, their father accepted his associate's joking accusations
of pride. He enjoyed showing off his sons on the rare excursions
to the wharf where, piloted by harbor pelicans, boats sailed in and out
of Galway Bay. Entertaining the boys were tall-masted ships dropping
sails and easing into port or pitching schooners with fully-dressed riggings
bulging with wind, departing for the vast open sea.
The gentle ocean lapped against
vessels moored to the jetties. There was a sea of activity as fishermen
straightened and repaired their nets, as cargo and livestock were landed
or transferred. Bright canvas flags gaily flapped high above the heads
of every size and nationality of men while Manannan Mac Lir ruled from
the realm of his watery throne and his beautiful wife Bheara danced as
the sunlit ripples of his crown. Anchored between his father and brother,
Liam kicked up his heels and sailed over the landing. He helped with the
sea god's watch by taking in every sight on shore, especially keeping an
eye out for violet lambs.
It had been Liam's earliest
memory to sail beyond the farthest known destination one day. He'd be a
strong Captain, and brave. He'd defend his father's goods against all looters
and, after each mighty conquest, would assume their plundered bounty. He'd
always return bearing gifts for everyone -- new fixtures for the castle
he would build with his brother, books for his father, a Sultan's hair
for his pretend-Uncle Shay, beautiful hats for Shay's wife and dolls for
their daughters.
And, after each exciting
adventure, he'd put quill to parchment.
"Liam."
Liam blinked at his brother
before realizing the address had been too deep. He turned to the man.
"I'm going through considerable
expense and evasion of law to have your brother schooled with the Friars.
Now, if I'm to review his studies, he'll be needing to concentrate. Which..."
a generous smile almost made his father's lips disappear, "...I cannot
do with you bound 'round his arm."
"I'll take him." Liam narrowly
avoided the grabbing hands, but not the wrathful tone of "I declare that
boy nurses his brother more than he ever did me!"
"Ma! Your words!" Their father
admonished his wife, raising his voice and a wagging finger. Dropping his
chin, he regarded the tot. "Liam can remain, Ma," said he, reaching forward
and effortlessly lifting Liam off his slippered feet. "But..."
Liam winced and opened one
eye warily.
He adjusted the little one
on his lap. "...he'll be needing to still..." His lips mussed the mop of
brown hair he spoke into.
Several minutes later and
nearly asleep, Liam suddenly perked up and leaned forward. He waved his
brother close to whisper in his ear.
"Dulcisono?" The older
boy considered the word for a moment then shook his head, still unconvinced.
"You're sure?"
Liam nodded affirmatively.
"Veritas," their father
confirmed. He considered both children, finally turning to Liam's brother
for an explanation. "Now, what have we here?"
A shrug came as the reply.
"Liam gave you the answer?"
His father's head lowered to cast curiosity into his younger son's face.
"Liam?"
Liam hid his face in his
hands. Between the gaps in his fingers he saw his father still waiting
for an answer. His shrug was an exact replica of his brother's.
"You're embarrassing Liam,
Athair.
Don't stare at him so."
Giggling, Liam squirmed while
his brother pinched for his toes until their father reached forward and
held his older son's hands at bay. "If you get him excited, I'll put him
to bed," was a light-hearted threat punctuated with a weighty brow.
Hugging Liam's feet to his
chest, his brother leaned forward and rested a forearm across Liam's knees.
"Don't you ever just think, Da, 'how did we get so lucky to have him?'"
he marveled.
The boys traded adulation.
"Not lucky, Son. Liam is
a gift from God," came the correction as two firm lips settled above the
littlest boy's hairline. After being quieted against his father's chest,
at some point in time amidst poor conjugations and mispronunciations, Liam
settled to sleep...
...
"Draw *me*!"
Angel gasped, but the two
big brown eyes didn't disappear. He clasped his journal to his chest and
shied away from the little brown girl.
"Go away," he said.
"I'm not allowed." As she
shook her head, a multitude of dark braids clipped with colorful plastic
bows whipped back and forth. She thrust her fists into the front pockets
of her overalls. "House rules. When you're sad, you can't be sad alone."
She graced Angel with a snaggle-toothed
grin and repeated her request.
"Chandi!" Trixie hurried
over and immediately placed her lips on the child's cheek. "You're supposed
to be in bed with this fever!"
A rosy bottom lip slid into
a pout. "But I'm tired of being in bed," Chandi whined, stomping away.
"I was just following rules!" she protested, marching upstairs.
Trixie took a seat on the
hassock in front of Angel's chair and smiled at him.
"I'm not going to draw you
either," Angel said gruffly. It became apparent to the vampire that everyone
in the house probably didn't understand the two words 'go away' when Trixie
adamantly remained where she was. "I just *really* need to be alone," he
insisted.
"House rules," Trixie replied.
"If I break them for you, I'll have to break them for the kids and, well..."
she folded her hands on top of one knee, "I just can't play favorites."
"I don't want to talk. I
just came here to do whatever it is I'm supposed to do." Angel closed his
book and set it in his lap after straightening his legs. "You wouldn't
happen to have any idea what that is so we can get out of here?"
"Not a clue." Trixie doted
on the embroidered hem of her housedress. "And neither will you as long
as you're not participating."
"That another house rule?"
The slight jut of Trixie's
jaw became more pronounced with her eyes strictly narrowed. "In this house,
you don't have to say what's on your mind, Angel, but you're not allowed
to dwell on it by yourself. There are too many lonely people in this world
and I'm not going to let any of these children grow up ignoring that. Consideration
is the key to this home. That, and the children are to remain unaware of
what we all are."
Angel stood in defiance.
"So if I'm going to my room does that mean that you're coming to keep me
company there, too?"
Trixie got up, too, but stepped
to the window instead. "Your room is your sanctuary, vampire," she contended
while cracking the blinds, "but don't, for one second, ever forget where
you're at."
-0-
evancomo@netscape.net