"I want guards at every entrance! Dogs, Psi Patrollers…the works…"
"Don't you think that's a little drastic, MacDonald?" Lilah asked as she walked up to his desk in his office/impromptu 'war room'. There was a definite swagger to her step, which told the other lawyer that something rather unpleasant was probably coming his way.
However, he did his best to ignore the swagger for the time being and answered her question.
"No, I really don't think it is." Lindsey answered with a raise of his eyebrow, "I mean, I don't know about you, but I consider a rogue necromancer and a four hundred year old vampire who's spent some years in Hell to be a serious security risk."
"Didn't have to be, you know…" Lilah informed him with a smirk, "I mean, putting the two of them together in a room…not bright in the least, my friend."
"You aren't."
"What, bright?" the lawyer asked with a tilt to her head, "I'll have you know-"
"No."
"No, what?"
"What I meant was…you aren't my friend." Lindsey clarified, getting more and more aggravated by her presence as the seconds ticked by. She was just so smug, so arrogant. So prideful and conceited about her looks, and her status. He wished he could kill her, but he knew he really didn't have time for the extra paperwork.
"Oh really?"
"Yes," he answered tersely, "really. And I'll have you know that if you knew anything about Darla, or that LaVelle, you wouldn't have thought it was a bad idea at all."
"What do you mean?"
Lindsey waited, watching her for interest. Finding it, he continued.
"Darla killed that boy's best friend a few years back. She turned him into a vampire, then forced this kid to stake him. Not to mention-"
"So? Just because they should have hated one another doesn't mean it was a bright idea to put a vampire and a necromancer in the same room."
"Maybe not to your mind…" Lindsey said with a grin that spoke volumes, "But I have grander plans…"
##
"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!"
"SHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT!"
#####
"They're on the way."
The voice came from behind a screen, the tone solemn and yet excited at the same time. Those who knew it's source were well aware that it took a great deal to even prompt the speaker to say anything most times. Indeed, the speaker tended to stay quiet when things weren't all-existance-in-the-balance important.
"Really?" asked the young woman who sat before the screen, her powersuit crinkling slightly as she leaned over to better hear the speaker. This one knew well how important the words were. "Do you know if they'll be in time?"
There was a pause, and the strange shape behind the screen seemed to shrug, though considering it's morphic quality, it could have been sticking it's tongue out at the young woman for all she knew.
"Of course I know…" the voice replied with a slight edge of irritation, "I am an Oracle, Vera Maat. You should remember that it is not a matter of knowing, but a matter of telling."
"And?" Vera asked, her liquid brown eyes pleading to the bare screen with an almost painful need to know.
"And," the Oracle replied with a rather tired sigh and an almost loving tone, "Now is not the time for that information to be revealed."
The hope and pleading that had been in washing around in the young woman's eyes suddenly bleed out, and had she not the iron will she had, they would have translated to tears.
Vera wanted to scream. She wanted to rant and rave and tear things off the wall. She wanted to pound her fists on the floor, stomp her feet, and make a ruckus. Mostly, though, she wanted to tear the screen away from it's spot, grab the Oracle, and shake it one good.
But she didn't.
Instead, Vera stood up, straightened her suit, flattened the small wisps of black hair which had fallen out of place, and grabbed her folder. However, she couldn't stop the almost petulant click of her high heels on the floor.
"I'm sorry, dear…" the Oracle told her, sounding rather upset, "But I-"
"It's okay, Ori…" Vera told the being with a tired sigh, using the nickname to ensure the creature behind the screen that all was well between them, "I know it's not your fault. You have rules to your existence as the rest of us do, and I was wrong to ask you for information I knew you probably would be forbidden to tell me."
There was a pause as the Oracle thought over the words of the young woman, and then a small chuckle filtered through the room from behind the screen.
"Thank you, Vera." The Oracle said, "I trust that what I did tell you was helpful, no?"
"Yes, very…" she replied as she sorted carefully through the papers in her folder, truly meaning it. The fact that there was reinforcements coming to aid the young necromancer meant that there was a chance that things could be turned the way they needed to be turned so that all the prophecies worked out on schedule.
"I am glad." The being behind the screen informed her, "You are a very good woman, Vera. A woman who shall have much importance in some of the greatest events of your time."
Vera smiled at that thought. Her, important? If it wasn't the Oracle telling her such things, she surely would have laughed.
"I thought you weren't supposed to tell people of their own lives, Ori?" she asked with a small chuckle, "Though I won't tell on you."
"I know you won't…" The Oracle answered with an almost audible grin. "You have an idea of my burden. We all slip. To err is-"
"Always possible for just about every race." Vera finished. Then she looked at her watch.
"You must go?" the voice asked, sounding almost sad.
"Yes, Ori, I must." She reported to her 'friend', "I have some work to do at my desk, then a meeting with Mr. Draco-"
"My, aren't we important?"
Now Vera's smile widened into a full out grin.
"Well, getting assigned to a LaVelle IS a high honor…" Vera said, her brown eyes and equally brown skin aglow with even the memory of the day she'd found out about it.
"Yes, it is…"
"But it's also a big responsibility, which is why Mr. Draco wants to talk to me."
There was a sigh from behind the screen, and Vera matched it as she sat back down.
"I screwed up, Ori…" she told the Oracle as she put her head in her hands, "Even with all my gifts, and all the work I did, I screwed up. I let him get captured by those bastards, setting every bit of work done in the 'Slayer Concerns' office into upheaval."
"It had to happen, Vera…" the Oracle reminded her.
"I know, but, I could have-"
"Nothing." The Oracle replied, using what Vera had come to affectionately call the 'Delphic Authority' voice. But as she continued, it softened. "Now, head up to your office, do your work, have the meeting, and relax. Things will work out."
Suddenly, Vera shot up from her seat in amazement. It'd said-
"Now go…"
And Vera went.
##
Xander had never been so terrified in his entire life.
Never before had he felt so helpless in the affairs of his existence. Never had he been plummeting into the darkness like he was at that moment. Never had he imagined the ground as being a horrible, horrible thing he wanted to avoid.
But these thoughts were luckily interrupted by the voice of a rather peeved vampiress from above.
"Break, you moron!"
Immediately, before the words could even be computed by his mind, he felt his hands grip tightly to the wire, the hard metal growing hotter and hotter through the ripped silk which he'd wrapped around his digits as he continued downwards.
But slower. Now he was going slower into that unknown darkness.
Above him, he could hear the voice of Darla, still screaming at him, but the adrenaline made it impossible to hear anything but the slip of his hands and the beat of his heart.
What? Too…what? Too…what was she saying?
"Too fast!" he finally heard, "Grip HARDER!"
Was she insane? Xander thought. Already, he could feel the skin of his hands peeling off from the friction and the heat.
"GRIP, you asshole! Your life is more important then some of your skin!"
And against all his instincts, Xander held harder to the wire, even as he felt himself slow. Unfortunately, this was also accompanied by the worse burning sensation he'd ever experienced.
Unable to hold it in, Xander screamed out in pain. True, it was no where near the pain he'd felt earlier that night as the power was ripped from his very being, but it was very bad. Somehow, he'd been able to block that pain away from a part of himself, but this was unstoppable. It just burned, and kept on burning.
Willow had told him once that the human hand had some of the most sensitive nerves on the body.
He certainly knew that now.
But there were other places for pain, which Xander found out a few seconds later as he landed, still in the darkness, on his feet.
Instantly, Xander heard a snap from the one leg as it hit an irregularity in the floor, but the pain took a second to explode in Technicolor onto his senses.
He fell over.
A few seconds later, another form dropped to the ground. He heard another snap, this time less piercing then the one from his own leg. Xander figured Darla must have broken only her ankle. Then he smelt the burnt flesh and knew why.
"Xander?" he heard her ask into the darkness.
"Right…here…" he croaked out from the uneven floor, his head resting on a metal gadget which obviously did something for the elevator but helped him not one bit.
"Damn it…" he heard Darla curse. Then he heard her grunt as she found him and pulled him to one foot.
"We've got…to find the door." Xander said, his voice raw from screaming, "It's probably-"
"I see the door, Xander…"
Xander looked at where he hoped she was in the darkness, then raised an eyebrow.
"Then why are we still in here?" he asked carefully.
"Because…" the vampiress explained, her voice strangely quiet as she spoke to the injured necromancer, "I need a second to heal. We'll go faster if BOTH of us don't have broken legs…"
"Oh," Xander replied intelligently, "So you noticed."
"You learn after a couple decades to figure out the which sounds mean what…" Darla told him.
Damn, didn't she just have to wreck the almost-peace…
Xander waited a second.
"Healed yet?"
"No…"
"Well, we have to go…"
All Xander got was a growl.
"No, seriously. The elevator's almost here."
"Shit…"
A second later, he heard the tearing of metal, and a small amount of light shone through to the dark elevator shaft. This allowed him to see her face.
She looked…angry. Angry, and hurt, and….concerned. But…that' couldn't be. She didn't give a damn about him, did she? She couldn't have. But there she was, tearing through the metal and holding him up, even though her hands were as burnt, if not more burnt, then his own.
"Almost…through…" she grunted out as her red and peeling fingers pulled open the metal doors.
"THROUGH!" she proclaimed as she finally pushed them open enough for the duo to get through, her scream half exultation and half pain. And inside, Xander couldn't help from feeling a bit of pity for her. The pain…he knew the kind of pain produced that scream.
But he was knocked out his thoughts by Darla's voice once more.
"Come on, boy…" she growled as she pulled him out of the elevator shaft, much to the surprise of the people in the lobby of the building.
The lobby. They were in the lobby. Almost out!
But then Xander heard the whispers in the crowd, and his stomach sank.
Whispers that spoke the last name of the man he'd killed. Whispers that spoke of the last word he'd heard from Nigel Brondstaff's lips.
And Lorimina Brondstaff-Hart exited the other elevator.
##
Cordelia nearly flew out of the car.
In fact, the only thing which kept her within the confines of the black metal were the seatbelt she had hastily snapped on and Angel's arm extended in front of her. But the former May Queen didn't notice any of these and immediately tore out of the convertible as quickly as was humanly possible.
However, just as she had reached the glass and chrome version of the Gate to Hell, the young seer was yanked back bodily by her newly-revived boyfriend.
"Let go of me, Doyle!", she cried painfully, "I have to-"
"Not get yourself killed, princess…" the half-demon finished for her.
"But-"
"But nothing," he told her softly, trying to calm her down to the point where she could think clearly, "We canna go in, or they'll murder us right there. That wonna help anyone. And considerin' that me body's all fresh and new, I was aimin' to keep it for awhile."
Cordelia looked as if she was going to argue, but finally decided that Doyle was right. They had to wait. It wasn't easy, but they had to wait. Then she had a thought.
"But I can peek through the glass, right?" she said, swiftly breaking the grip he had on her arm so that she could cup her hands around the almost reflective glass to see through.
"Good idea," commented Wesley, who had just gotten out of the car. Angel, however, was still sitting within the convertible, obviously wanting to be ready should the escapees make it out. But he did have enough concern to ask the other three what was going on within the building.
"Well," said the seer with a smile, "Everything looks pretty normal…other than the hands that are prying the elevator doors apart."
"What?"
"Yeah," she continued, "They're…opening, and-"
"WHAT!?"
"It's Darla!" Cordelia cried in surprise and disappointment, "But where's Xa- Oh my God, she's got Xander! It looks like…yes, I think his leg is broken or something, cause I KNOW legs aren't supposed to bend that way."
Wesley joined her at the glass and drew in a hiss of breath.
"Dear God, his hands! They look as if they've been held in a fire…"
Cordelia pulled away from the glass.
"You sure we can't go in there?" she asked, "They both look like they're in pretty bad shape. They need some help."
Suddenly from behind her, Cordelia heard footsteps. She turned around to see Michael, obviously out of breath, and Kat, who, despite her fatigue, had a smile on her face.
"No…" he got out in a gasp, "You can't go in. It would be war. As much as I hate it, he has to do it on his own."
"But look at them!" Cordelia shouted, pointing through the glass at the figures who were even now struggling through the ripped up doors of the elevator, "They're half dead."
"Well, in Darla's case-"
"Shut up, Wesley!" she snapped, "The point is that there is no way in Hell that they're going to get out alive without some assistance. Now I ask you…are you going to let my friend, your family member, and one very important person to the good fight, DIE because of family politics?!"
Michael seemed to think about this for a moment, and then put his head down, telling Cordelia all she needed to know. Only her concern for Xander kept her from smacking his cousin right on the mouth.
"Fine," she told him, her normally full lips a tight line, "Then I'll do it myself!"
And without further ado, Cordelia Chase walked into the lobby of Wolfram & Hart.
##
Xander knew he had basically two options at the moment.
Live or die.
With all the pain, dying was looking pretty good at the moment, but he knew that he'd been in worse situations before and lived. He wasn't going to cop out now. He couldn't, he WOULDN'T let his friends down by dying. He wouldn't let them feel the pain he'd felt years before as his best friend exploded into dust before his eyes.
So the choice was made for you, eh? Asked a little voice within his mind.
Basically, Xander answered it as he looked up into the face of the imperious woman before him.
I'm glad, the voice told him with a verbal smile, for with it, you have set in place a course of events which will change the world for the better.
Me? Xander asked carefully, having a feeling that it wasn't exactly himself he was talking to.
Yes, boy, you.
Oh, Xander said to that inner voice.
Yes, the voice continued, now get back to the real world like a good boy and do what you know you must. Use your strengths…all of them.
Oka-
He felt a nudge, looked to the side to see a rather peeved Darla, then looked up into the face of one of the senior partners of the lawfirm.
"Are you listening to me, boy?" the woman before him shouted angrily, "You…you little moron. I can't believe that you were the one who cruelly killed my father in-"
"Cruelly!" Xander cried in anger, "I didn't want to kill him! He attacked ME! He threatened my friends…my family. He was going to kill me before I even knew what I was, you overzealous-"
"Silence, murderer!" Lorimina shrieked, "I'm not going to listen to lies. My father was a noble man who wouldn't ever attack a novice unaware of his power. You killed him an-"
"Oh," came a dark-haired interruption from the door, "So you're just going to tell them then, eh Miss Bitch-Lawyer?"
Immediately, every head in the lobby turned to where Cordelia Chase was now standing.
"How dare you-"
"How dare I what?" Cordelia asked angrily as she stepped further into the building, "How dare I tell you the truth? How dare I try and save MY friend that YOU kidnapped? What am I daring, lady, what?"
"You-"
"Xander wouldn't kill anyone like you're saying," she continued, ignoring the fumbling comments of the lawyer, "I've known him since kindergarten. Hell, I dated him for a while. And while I won't say that Xander's perfect, I do know what kind of a guy he is."
"And what kind of guy is that?" Lorimina asked with a sly smile, back in the game with a vengeance.
"He's a guy who defends what's his. Xander is one of the most considerate and sweet guys I know, and he wouldn't hurt a fly, except for that one time when he and Willow decided that-"
"Cordy, please…" Xander begged.
"Well, that was a mistake. But as I was saying, Xander's harmless. He wouldn't have killed anyone, especially a father, if they hadn't threatened him or his friends. Actually, probably more his friends. I know how crazy he can be about the people he cares about."
Lorimina grinned, then walks around till she was nearly face to face with Cordelia.
"So you admit that he might have killed my father?"
"Yes," Cordelia answered with a nod, "But he was forced. It was kill or be killed."
The lawyer's eyes went down.
"That's not true. As I said, I knew MY father, and I know he wouldn't have forced a youngling with no experience-"
"Well, he did." Xander said, speaking up to the lawyer for the first time in the entire conversation, "He forced me. My…father even tried to tell him not to, but he said he had to. Said that he didn't care if he died as long as he killed me. He said the entire family rested on my death."
Lorimina gasped, then stepped back and away from both Cordelia and the two escapees. Obviously upset, the lawyer carefully looked at Xander, then at Darla, who was still holding him as he lay mostly on the floor of the lobby, her fingers gently cupping the broken leg.
"Dear God, he-"
Suddenly, Darla jumped up from the floor, tossed the injured necromancer over her shoulder, and ran out of the building. No one stopped her; no one was fast enough, and most of the people in the lobby were either confused, interested in what had startled their boss so badly, or in shock.
Cordelia gave one last glare at the lawyer, then followed.
Neither the vampiress nor the seer saw her fall to her knees in shock and fear. They missed it as Lorimina's breath hitched up and down as she held down sobs. And they certainly were unaware of the moan she let out.
But Xander saw, and despite it all, he couldn't help but feel sorry for her. She didn't have a father anymore, and that was a pain he was familiar with. Luckily, he'd sort of gotten his back (though he knew that his own father still had much work to do till they could really bond again), but she never would.
Then his thoughts were lost as he was tossed painfully into the back seat of the covertible, and the world went black.
##
"I can't make that decision for him."
Was that Angel's voice? Xander couldn't really tell.
"But, Mr. Angel, as you well know-"
"No." Yeah, that was Angel. And he sounded ticked if Xander could tell with any measure of certainty. He wondered which of his rather lame snaps had set off the broody vampire, then realized that the anger wasn't toward him, but rather defending him. That made him wonder what was going on, and it was this curiosity that gave him the strength to open his eyes.
He took in the scene quickly. Cordelia was sitting beside him, with Doyle and Wesley standing next to her (Doyle obviously the closest), while Angel stood toe-to-toe with a young black woman carrying several folders in her hand, and more then a few scathing remarks waiting in her mouth.
"Who're you?" the dazed necromancer asked bluntly.
The dark-skinned woman in the power suit to whom the question was addressed immediately spun on her pumps to face the young man who had just woken up in his hospital bed. She looked as if she was about to yell at him too, but obviously reconsidered as she remembered the part about him being in a hospital bed.
"My name is Vera Maat," the woman explained with a bit of a huff, which Xander could forgive her for. He knew well what it was like trying to argue with the souled vampire who even now was glaring at her, and knew that it would aggravate anyone, "And I'm here-"
"To try and convince you to become the exclusive property of Gryffin & Draco." Angel finished for her, adding a bit of his own huff to the comment.
Xander quirked an eyebrow, then decided against it as pain lanced through his eyes and into his head.
"But weren't you telling me that I SHOULD work for them?" he asked in confusion, no small part of that being from the fact that he'd just woken up. Xander, whether LaVelle or Harris, Zeppo or Necromancer, was not fit for anything without having some food in him first.
"Yes," Wesley picked up for his boss, "However, as Angel was pointing out, the decision is ultimately yours."
"Mine." Xander said.
"Yes, yours." The former Watcher repeated.
"Mine." The young man repeated.
"Yes, yours…" Vera said, cutting off Wesley from saying it.
"And…you want me?" Xander asked carefully, sitting up gingerly from his hospital bed so that he could look the woman in the eyes. "You honestly want me to work for your firm?"
The woman flushed, then fiddled with her papers a bit before answering. "Well, yes, Mr. LaVelle, we-"
"Harris."
"What?" Vera asked as she nearly dropped the entire stack.
"My name is Xander Harris," he told her with a gentle smile, "I happen to be one of the Scooby Gang, the infamous band who help the Slayer save the world on a regular basis. I do excellent donut-fetching, can be thrown several feet into a wall and still stand, not to mention my ability to wise-crack my way out of just about everthing."
Vera simply stared.
"Oh yeah, and as you're aware, I can raise the dead…" he said with a lop-sided grin. "Now, I'd be happy to work for you. Join the team. Kick some Wolfram & Hart ass and all…but I have one request."
The young woman's eyes shone with expectation.
"What? We'll pay you whatever you want within reason! We'll give you great health benefits, not to mention-"
"Well, that's all well and good, Ms. Maat." Xander informed her, "But this is a bit more important. You see, if I'm going to be working for you, I'm going to need an assistant."
"Fine."
"And in that vein, I want you to extend this position to Darla."
The entire room went silent at that remark.
Vera's mouth dropped open, as did Angel's, while Cordelia's eyes blinked wide. Wesley held the chair the seer was sitting on, but Doyle simply let out a small chuckle.
He'd known the boy was going to pull something. And he had a feeling this had been the correct thing to pull.
"Darla?" Angel asked unsurely, obviously wishing that he didn't have vampire hearing
"Yes," affirmed Xander as he once more pushed himself up. It might have hurt, but he sure as hell wasn't going to show any weakness on this point.
"Darla?" asked Cordelia in an echo of the vampire's comment, "As in psycho-vampiress who tried to shoot up Buffy among others? Not to mention the fact that she was the one that made Angel here all dark-loving and fangy?"
"Yup, same one I'm talking about." Xander insisted, "My, how sharp you've gotten here in the big city, Cordy. Now where is she?"
Suddenly, a guilty look crossed every face in the room other than the necromancer's. This, in turn, caused said necromancer to gain a rather angry expression.
"Look, guys…as much as I appreciate all the work you put into helping me, and all the times you've saved my ass, I…Darla…I owe Darla. And I think I know how to help her." Xander sighed in deeply, "Where is she?"
There was once again silence.
"Where?"
Finally, Cordelia's eyes rose from the floor and met Xander's.
"We don't know." She admitted, "We kinda…threw her out of the car shortly after you went unconscious. Didn't want to risk her doing anything. She was knocked out cold last we saw."
Xander now was the silent one as he realized something. "You did throw her into a building, right?" he asked slowly, as if to take the sting out of what he just knew was going to be the answer.
There was no answer, and Xander took a deep breath. "What time is it?"
"Five A.M."
The young necromancer absorbed this information, then jumped out of the bed.
Immediately, he rolled backwards into his bed with a cry of pain. Angel reached out to help him, but the dark-haired human roughly shoved the vampire off of his arm. The souled vampire retreated at the rebuttal, knowing that it was anger and not hate which fueled the shove. Something had happened in that building, during the escape, which had changed him nearly as much as the awakening of his powers had. Angel, who had witnessed more world-changing events then anyone else in the room, realized that something important was going on.
Vera, however, didn't realize this and tried to speak to him next. Xander simply threw all of her folders to the floor and glared at her.
"After I get her…" he told the lawyer, meaning the words like he'd never meant anything else, "I promise. After."
Vera, still kneeling as she picked up her files, nodded solemnly. She knew that tone, had used it to get herself where she was today. She understood.
After a second, Xander once more slid out of the bed, this time grabbing the well-placed crutch near his bed and utilizing it. It took every ounce of power from his battered body to do it, but he stood straight up.
"I'll be back in a minute, okay?" he said to them, as if it was perfectly normal, "Can I borrow the car, Deadboy?"
Angel tossed him the keys immediately.
And Xander, his head held high, limped out of the hospital room, leaving a room full of very confused and rather nervous people.
##
Xander's head was spinning and his heart was beating like a drummer on speed. For the first time in his admittedly short life, he had no idea what he was doing.
"No, that's not true…" the young man hissed to himself as he made his way down to the elevator, "I know exactly what I'm doing. I'm walking out on a six-figure salary, pushing away the friends-"
He thought of Angel and Wesley.
"People who've helped saved the world to go after the homicidal vampiress who killed my best friend and would rip out my eyeballs if she could. Smart, Harris, real smart…"
And yet, despite his comments to the contrary, he knew he had to. There was a burning need inside of him, something which had been born in that elevator shaft as the human and the vampire had stood in front of the large metal doors which tried to hold them for their deaths. This something demanded that he seek her out, that he find and take care of her, and he was frightened to discover that it was his heart.
This was wrong, he knew. This was so very very wrong that his situation was probably written right next to the word 'wrong' in the dictionary, but he knew he had to do it. Xander was like a man under a geas, completely unable to stop what he was doing. And despite the pain and the fatigue, not to mention the anger, anguish, and improbability, he knew he'd find her.
He knew he'd find her like he knew that the sun would rise. He knew he'd find her like he knew the tides would change.
He knew he'd find her, because something within him was guiding him to her, telling him where to turn and how to go, even though he hadn't even noticed getting into the car or making his way out of the parking lot.
Turn.
Right.
Straight till the next light.
Right.
Keep going till-
There!
Immediately, the injured necromancer slammed his cast onto the break peddle, feeling the pain as it shot up his leg. He should have screamed, but for some reason couldn't find the primal instinct within himself. Too much was on the line…too much pain already handed to the Reaper for this to count. He had used up his quotient for the week.
Quickly, more quickly then he should have been able to move in his condition, Xander made his way out of the car and to the body sprawled across the small patch of grass in the eastern corner of the large park.
Blonde hair blowing over her now-calm face, the blue and black marks already healing from injuries he hadn't even noticed hours earlier. One leg at an unnatural angle that should've kept her screaming in pain if she hadn't used up her quotient as well. Lips cold and purple in the chilly air of L.A.
Those lips drank the blood out of your best friend…
The voice of reason attempted even now to reign him in, whispering seductively into his mind like the serpent holding out a basket of apples.
Those arms have snapped the necks of victims the world over…
No, he cried out to himself even as he lowered his body slowly to cradle the smaller, unmoving mass, that's the past. And it wasn't her. I know it wasn't her. It was what the Master wanted her to be, what the demon within her made her do.
Those arms held me. Those arms opened the doors to freedom. Those arms lifted me up and took me to safety.
And those lips…I want to ki-
No…that Xander couldn't complete. She needed to have her soul first. As soon as she got her soul back, he could-
"Xander?" came the weak and trembling voice from within the haven of his arms, "Xander? Is that you?"
Immediately, the young necromancer pulled her up so that he could see her face. Still battered, despite the vampiric healing. Lidded eyes staring up at him in confusion and…hope.
"Yeah, Darla. It's me, you stupid bitch…" he murmured back to her, his tone not matching his words in the least.
"Thought it was you, dumbass…" the beaten vampiress replied with a painful smirk, "How'd we get here? And why can't I move?"
Xander looked down at her leg, and Darla's eyes followed his.
"Oh…" she said with a tired smile. Then she looked at the sky.
"Is that dawn?"
Xander only nodded. He didn't trust himself to talk. Not now…not when he had a stake in one pocket and a bag of blood he'd picked up on the way out in the other. Not when it was all on the line, when his emotions were so lost and incomprehensible.
Why can't I find someone to love me? Is it because I'm a monster?
A new voice spoke.
Then what better love then a monster?
Xander's eyes opened in shock at his own thoughts. No, he wasn't a monster. Doyle had made sure he knew that. But, and this was the part that truly struck him, he wasn't human. He wasn't normal. He would never be normal. He wasn't going to settle down to a normal life, with a normal wife, and have normal children.
He was a necromancer. He was a LaVelle.
He was a fighter for the Light.
Suddenly, he felt a light smack on his arm. Pulling himself from his deep thoughts, Xander glanced down to see Darla staring pointedly at the rising sun.
"Oh yeah…" he realized. Then he tried to pick her up, which resulted in nothing but him toppling over in pain.
"Good job, blue-eye…" Darla laughed.
"Oh shut up, beautiful…"
This startled the blonde vampire into silence.
"Well," Xander thought out loud as he got himself up, "My powers should be a little recharged by now. I should be able to do a bit levitation."
He looked down to Darla, who was still shocked.
Without further ado, Xander made a lifting motion with his hands as he said a few unintelligible words and the body of the vampiress lifted off of the ground. He pointed to the car and Darla floated that way till he gave a downward point which settled her down on the back seat. As quick as possible, he got into the driver's seat.
Darla was staring at him.
"Well," he said at last as he started up the car and put the top up, "I figure I get you a soul and we'll be all set. Hell, I figure that if we survived getting out of that damned law firm, we're tough enough to try for something."
Xander took a peek and saw the vampire blinking in the back seat.
"My…soul…"
"The thing that came with your body the first time around?" Xander prodded, "You know, that little voice which said 'killing is bad'?"
This earned him a growl.
"Jeez, do vampires get PMS?" he asked as he turned his eyes back to the road. This was better…this felt right.
"No. Vampires never get PMS…" she told him, "But the souled ones can get pretty upset when you accuse them of being souless…Take me for example-"
Cars cannot turn themselves inside out with their own independent force. However, Xander felt the need to test this out and immediately slammed on the breaks in the middle of the road. Though it didn't actually happen, the car gave it a good try.
"What did you just say?" he asked her as he spun around to look her in the face.
Darla's eyes dropped to stare at the car floor.
"I have a soul…"
Xander realized that he was stopped in the middle of the road, pulled into a parking spot, then simply stared at her.
"What do you mean you have a soul?"
The vampiress glared, but it didn't effect Xander because there was so much more pain in her eyes then anger. "I mean I have a soul…you know…the little voice that says 'killing is bad'?"
Xander snorted at the retort. "But…how is that possible?"
"I don't know either, okay?!" Darla answered angrily, "I don't know why I returned with this damn soul, but I hate it. I hate feeling like this. I hate knowing that I've destroyed the precious and irreplaceable lives of hundreds…thousands. I hate thinking about the fact that my victims had futures, and husbands, and family, and wives, and friends, and jobs! I hate thinking that now, everything I knew and lived by for hundreds of years is so wrong!
"Do you know why I was still sprawled on that grass, Xander? It wasn't because I couldn't get up, though goodness knows that I've gone through some pretty rough shit tonight. It was because I was just so tired. I hated that weight on my soul. I didn't want to live with this guilt. I didn't WANT to get up."
Xander absorbed what she'd said, then nodded slowly. After, the young man snaked his arm between the seats and gently lifted the vampire's chin till he could look into her eyes.
"Did you get up because I came for you?"
There was a soft hiss which was then clarified by a deliberate nod.
"Was it because I, Xander Harris, came for you?"
Another nod.
"And do you know that I'm in love with you?"
Xander couldn't believe that the words had actually come out of his mouth, but he knew that they were what needed to be said. He couldn't explain how he suddenly knew that the odd sensations and needs with himself were really love, but he did. He knew. And he had to be honest with her; he couldn't let things simply stay. This night, and the day fast approaching, was a time of change for him…for the world. But it all hinged on the answer.
Finally, Darla opened her mouth.
"Yes."
"And…" Xander said, feeling a thick ball of emotion in his throat which was difficult to speak around, "despite the fact that none of this makes any sense, and that we're both probably crazy from the events of tonight, are you in love with me?"
"Yes."
There was silence, then Xander turned around, cleared his throat as well as the tension, and started up the car again.
"Well then, now that that's all straightened out, I guess I can get Deadboy back his beloved Nick-Knight-wannabe car…"
There was a pause, and then a soft giggle from the back seat as he drove towards the hospital until Xander realized he'd forgotten one very important part of it all.
He pulled over, then slowly got out of the car and into the back seat. Darla, who had sat up to look out the sunlight-proof windows, stared at him.
Well, until he kissed her, of course. Then she had other things on her mind, like warm, soft lips, and hands which were touching in all the right places. Eyes so close to hers and so full of sincerity, adoration, and only the tiniest bit of confusion.
They pulled apart a few minutes later.
"That was…"
"How do…"
"We should probably…"
They both looked at the floor.
"How am I gonna tell Deadboy that I'm in love with this mom? He'll go-"
And Darla silenced him the most interesting way she knew.
"But-"
"Oh, Shut up, Xander…" she told him.
And it stayed shut since Xander's mouth was busy with other things.
"Don't you think that's a little drastic, MacDonald?" Lilah asked as she walked up to his desk in his office/impromptu 'war room'. There was a definite swagger to her step, which told the other lawyer that something rather unpleasant was probably coming his way.
However, he did his best to ignore the swagger for the time being and answered her question.
"No, I really don't think it is." Lindsey answered with a raise of his eyebrow, "I mean, I don't know about you, but I consider a rogue necromancer and a four hundred year old vampire who's spent some years in Hell to be a serious security risk."
"Didn't have to be, you know…" Lilah informed him with a smirk, "I mean, putting the two of them together in a room…not bright in the least, my friend."
"You aren't."
"What, bright?" the lawyer asked with a tilt to her head, "I'll have you know-"
"No."
"No, what?"
"What I meant was…you aren't my friend." Lindsey clarified, getting more and more aggravated by her presence as the seconds ticked by. She was just so smug, so arrogant. So prideful and conceited about her looks, and her status. He wished he could kill her, but he knew he really didn't have time for the extra paperwork.
"Oh really?"
"Yes," he answered tersely, "really. And I'll have you know that if you knew anything about Darla, or that LaVelle, you wouldn't have thought it was a bad idea at all."
"What do you mean?"
Lindsey waited, watching her for interest. Finding it, he continued.
"Darla killed that boy's best friend a few years back. She turned him into a vampire, then forced this kid to stake him. Not to mention-"
"So? Just because they should have hated one another doesn't mean it was a bright idea to put a vampire and a necromancer in the same room."
"Maybe not to your mind…" Lindsey said with a grin that spoke volumes, "But I have grander plans…"
##
"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!"
"SHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT!"
#####
"They're on the way."
The voice came from behind a screen, the tone solemn and yet excited at the same time. Those who knew it's source were well aware that it took a great deal to even prompt the speaker to say anything most times. Indeed, the speaker tended to stay quiet when things weren't all-existance-in-the-balance important.
"Really?" asked the young woman who sat before the screen, her powersuit crinkling slightly as she leaned over to better hear the speaker. This one knew well how important the words were. "Do you know if they'll be in time?"
There was a pause, and the strange shape behind the screen seemed to shrug, though considering it's morphic quality, it could have been sticking it's tongue out at the young woman for all she knew.
"Of course I know…" the voice replied with a slight edge of irritation, "I am an Oracle, Vera Maat. You should remember that it is not a matter of knowing, but a matter of telling."
"And?" Vera asked, her liquid brown eyes pleading to the bare screen with an almost painful need to know.
"And," the Oracle replied with a rather tired sigh and an almost loving tone, "Now is not the time for that information to be revealed."
The hope and pleading that had been in washing around in the young woman's eyes suddenly bleed out, and had she not the iron will she had, they would have translated to tears.
Vera wanted to scream. She wanted to rant and rave and tear things off the wall. She wanted to pound her fists on the floor, stomp her feet, and make a ruckus. Mostly, though, she wanted to tear the screen away from it's spot, grab the Oracle, and shake it one good.
But she didn't.
Instead, Vera stood up, straightened her suit, flattened the small wisps of black hair which had fallen out of place, and grabbed her folder. However, she couldn't stop the almost petulant click of her high heels on the floor.
"I'm sorry, dear…" the Oracle told her, sounding rather upset, "But I-"
"It's okay, Ori…" Vera told the being with a tired sigh, using the nickname to ensure the creature behind the screen that all was well between them, "I know it's not your fault. You have rules to your existence as the rest of us do, and I was wrong to ask you for information I knew you probably would be forbidden to tell me."
There was a pause as the Oracle thought over the words of the young woman, and then a small chuckle filtered through the room from behind the screen.
"Thank you, Vera." The Oracle said, "I trust that what I did tell you was helpful, no?"
"Yes, very…" she replied as she sorted carefully through the papers in her folder, truly meaning it. The fact that there was reinforcements coming to aid the young necromancer meant that there was a chance that things could be turned the way they needed to be turned so that all the prophecies worked out on schedule.
"I am glad." The being behind the screen informed her, "You are a very good woman, Vera. A woman who shall have much importance in some of the greatest events of your time."
Vera smiled at that thought. Her, important? If it wasn't the Oracle telling her such things, she surely would have laughed.
"I thought you weren't supposed to tell people of their own lives, Ori?" she asked with a small chuckle, "Though I won't tell on you."
"I know you won't…" The Oracle answered with an almost audible grin. "You have an idea of my burden. We all slip. To err is-"
"Always possible for just about every race." Vera finished. Then she looked at her watch.
"You must go?" the voice asked, sounding almost sad.
"Yes, Ori, I must." She reported to her 'friend', "I have some work to do at my desk, then a meeting with Mr. Draco-"
"My, aren't we important?"
Now Vera's smile widened into a full out grin.
"Well, getting assigned to a LaVelle IS a high honor…" Vera said, her brown eyes and equally brown skin aglow with even the memory of the day she'd found out about it.
"Yes, it is…"
"But it's also a big responsibility, which is why Mr. Draco wants to talk to me."
There was a sigh from behind the screen, and Vera matched it as she sat back down.
"I screwed up, Ori…" she told the Oracle as she put her head in her hands, "Even with all my gifts, and all the work I did, I screwed up. I let him get captured by those bastards, setting every bit of work done in the 'Slayer Concerns' office into upheaval."
"It had to happen, Vera…" the Oracle reminded her.
"I know, but, I could have-"
"Nothing." The Oracle replied, using what Vera had come to affectionately call the 'Delphic Authority' voice. But as she continued, it softened. "Now, head up to your office, do your work, have the meeting, and relax. Things will work out."
Suddenly, Vera shot up from her seat in amazement. It'd said-
"Now go…"
And Vera went.
##
Xander had never been so terrified in his entire life.
Never before had he felt so helpless in the affairs of his existence. Never had he been plummeting into the darkness like he was at that moment. Never had he imagined the ground as being a horrible, horrible thing he wanted to avoid.
But these thoughts were luckily interrupted by the voice of a rather peeved vampiress from above.
"Break, you moron!"
Immediately, before the words could even be computed by his mind, he felt his hands grip tightly to the wire, the hard metal growing hotter and hotter through the ripped silk which he'd wrapped around his digits as he continued downwards.
But slower. Now he was going slower into that unknown darkness.
Above him, he could hear the voice of Darla, still screaming at him, but the adrenaline made it impossible to hear anything but the slip of his hands and the beat of his heart.
What? Too…what? Too…what was she saying?
"Too fast!" he finally heard, "Grip HARDER!"
Was she insane? Xander thought. Already, he could feel the skin of his hands peeling off from the friction and the heat.
"GRIP, you asshole! Your life is more important then some of your skin!"
And against all his instincts, Xander held harder to the wire, even as he felt himself slow. Unfortunately, this was also accompanied by the worse burning sensation he'd ever experienced.
Unable to hold it in, Xander screamed out in pain. True, it was no where near the pain he'd felt earlier that night as the power was ripped from his very being, but it was very bad. Somehow, he'd been able to block that pain away from a part of himself, but this was unstoppable. It just burned, and kept on burning.
Willow had told him once that the human hand had some of the most sensitive nerves on the body.
He certainly knew that now.
But there were other places for pain, which Xander found out a few seconds later as he landed, still in the darkness, on his feet.
Instantly, Xander heard a snap from the one leg as it hit an irregularity in the floor, but the pain took a second to explode in Technicolor onto his senses.
He fell over.
A few seconds later, another form dropped to the ground. He heard another snap, this time less piercing then the one from his own leg. Xander figured Darla must have broken only her ankle. Then he smelt the burnt flesh and knew why.
"Xander?" he heard her ask into the darkness.
"Right…here…" he croaked out from the uneven floor, his head resting on a metal gadget which obviously did something for the elevator but helped him not one bit.
"Damn it…" he heard Darla curse. Then he heard her grunt as she found him and pulled him to one foot.
"We've got…to find the door." Xander said, his voice raw from screaming, "It's probably-"
"I see the door, Xander…"
Xander looked at where he hoped she was in the darkness, then raised an eyebrow.
"Then why are we still in here?" he asked carefully.
"Because…" the vampiress explained, her voice strangely quiet as she spoke to the injured necromancer, "I need a second to heal. We'll go faster if BOTH of us don't have broken legs…"
"Oh," Xander replied intelligently, "So you noticed."
"You learn after a couple decades to figure out the which sounds mean what…" Darla told him.
Damn, didn't she just have to wreck the almost-peace…
Xander waited a second.
"Healed yet?"
"No…"
"Well, we have to go…"
All Xander got was a growl.
"No, seriously. The elevator's almost here."
"Shit…"
A second later, he heard the tearing of metal, and a small amount of light shone through to the dark elevator shaft. This allowed him to see her face.
She looked…angry. Angry, and hurt, and….concerned. But…that' couldn't be. She didn't give a damn about him, did she? She couldn't have. But there she was, tearing through the metal and holding him up, even though her hands were as burnt, if not more burnt, then his own.
"Almost…through…" she grunted out as her red and peeling fingers pulled open the metal doors.
"THROUGH!" she proclaimed as she finally pushed them open enough for the duo to get through, her scream half exultation and half pain. And inside, Xander couldn't help from feeling a bit of pity for her. The pain…he knew the kind of pain produced that scream.
But he was knocked out his thoughts by Darla's voice once more.
"Come on, boy…" she growled as she pulled him out of the elevator shaft, much to the surprise of the people in the lobby of the building.
The lobby. They were in the lobby. Almost out!
But then Xander heard the whispers in the crowd, and his stomach sank.
Whispers that spoke the last name of the man he'd killed. Whispers that spoke of the last word he'd heard from Nigel Brondstaff's lips.
And Lorimina Brondstaff-Hart exited the other elevator.
##
Cordelia nearly flew out of the car.
In fact, the only thing which kept her within the confines of the black metal were the seatbelt she had hastily snapped on and Angel's arm extended in front of her. But the former May Queen didn't notice any of these and immediately tore out of the convertible as quickly as was humanly possible.
However, just as she had reached the glass and chrome version of the Gate to Hell, the young seer was yanked back bodily by her newly-revived boyfriend.
"Let go of me, Doyle!", she cried painfully, "I have to-"
"Not get yourself killed, princess…" the half-demon finished for her.
"But-"
"But nothing," he told her softly, trying to calm her down to the point where she could think clearly, "We canna go in, or they'll murder us right there. That wonna help anyone. And considerin' that me body's all fresh and new, I was aimin' to keep it for awhile."
Cordelia looked as if she was going to argue, but finally decided that Doyle was right. They had to wait. It wasn't easy, but they had to wait. Then she had a thought.
"But I can peek through the glass, right?" she said, swiftly breaking the grip he had on her arm so that she could cup her hands around the almost reflective glass to see through.
"Good idea," commented Wesley, who had just gotten out of the car. Angel, however, was still sitting within the convertible, obviously wanting to be ready should the escapees make it out. But he did have enough concern to ask the other three what was going on within the building.
"Well," said the seer with a smile, "Everything looks pretty normal…other than the hands that are prying the elevator doors apart."
"What?"
"Yeah," she continued, "They're…opening, and-"
"WHAT!?"
"It's Darla!" Cordelia cried in surprise and disappointment, "But where's Xa- Oh my God, she's got Xander! It looks like…yes, I think his leg is broken or something, cause I KNOW legs aren't supposed to bend that way."
Wesley joined her at the glass and drew in a hiss of breath.
"Dear God, his hands! They look as if they've been held in a fire…"
Cordelia pulled away from the glass.
"You sure we can't go in there?" she asked, "They both look like they're in pretty bad shape. They need some help."
Suddenly from behind her, Cordelia heard footsteps. She turned around to see Michael, obviously out of breath, and Kat, who, despite her fatigue, had a smile on her face.
"No…" he got out in a gasp, "You can't go in. It would be war. As much as I hate it, he has to do it on his own."
"But look at them!" Cordelia shouted, pointing through the glass at the figures who were even now struggling through the ripped up doors of the elevator, "They're half dead."
"Well, in Darla's case-"
"Shut up, Wesley!" she snapped, "The point is that there is no way in Hell that they're going to get out alive without some assistance. Now I ask you…are you going to let my friend, your family member, and one very important person to the good fight, DIE because of family politics?!"
Michael seemed to think about this for a moment, and then put his head down, telling Cordelia all she needed to know. Only her concern for Xander kept her from smacking his cousin right on the mouth.
"Fine," she told him, her normally full lips a tight line, "Then I'll do it myself!"
And without further ado, Cordelia Chase walked into the lobby of Wolfram & Hart.
##
Xander knew he had basically two options at the moment.
Live or die.
With all the pain, dying was looking pretty good at the moment, but he knew that he'd been in worse situations before and lived. He wasn't going to cop out now. He couldn't, he WOULDN'T let his friends down by dying. He wouldn't let them feel the pain he'd felt years before as his best friend exploded into dust before his eyes.
So the choice was made for you, eh? Asked a little voice within his mind.
Basically, Xander answered it as he looked up into the face of the imperious woman before him.
I'm glad, the voice told him with a verbal smile, for with it, you have set in place a course of events which will change the world for the better.
Me? Xander asked carefully, having a feeling that it wasn't exactly himself he was talking to.
Yes, boy, you.
Oh, Xander said to that inner voice.
Yes, the voice continued, now get back to the real world like a good boy and do what you know you must. Use your strengths…all of them.
Oka-
He felt a nudge, looked to the side to see a rather peeved Darla, then looked up into the face of one of the senior partners of the lawfirm.
"Are you listening to me, boy?" the woman before him shouted angrily, "You…you little moron. I can't believe that you were the one who cruelly killed my father in-"
"Cruelly!" Xander cried in anger, "I didn't want to kill him! He attacked ME! He threatened my friends…my family. He was going to kill me before I even knew what I was, you overzealous-"
"Silence, murderer!" Lorimina shrieked, "I'm not going to listen to lies. My father was a noble man who wouldn't ever attack a novice unaware of his power. You killed him an-"
"Oh," came a dark-haired interruption from the door, "So you're just going to tell them then, eh Miss Bitch-Lawyer?"
Immediately, every head in the lobby turned to where Cordelia Chase was now standing.
"How dare you-"
"How dare I what?" Cordelia asked angrily as she stepped further into the building, "How dare I tell you the truth? How dare I try and save MY friend that YOU kidnapped? What am I daring, lady, what?"
"You-"
"Xander wouldn't kill anyone like you're saying," she continued, ignoring the fumbling comments of the lawyer, "I've known him since kindergarten. Hell, I dated him for a while. And while I won't say that Xander's perfect, I do know what kind of a guy he is."
"And what kind of guy is that?" Lorimina asked with a sly smile, back in the game with a vengeance.
"He's a guy who defends what's his. Xander is one of the most considerate and sweet guys I know, and he wouldn't hurt a fly, except for that one time when he and Willow decided that-"
"Cordy, please…" Xander begged.
"Well, that was a mistake. But as I was saying, Xander's harmless. He wouldn't have killed anyone, especially a father, if they hadn't threatened him or his friends. Actually, probably more his friends. I know how crazy he can be about the people he cares about."
Lorimina grinned, then walks around till she was nearly face to face with Cordelia.
"So you admit that he might have killed my father?"
"Yes," Cordelia answered with a nod, "But he was forced. It was kill or be killed."
The lawyer's eyes went down.
"That's not true. As I said, I knew MY father, and I know he wouldn't have forced a youngling with no experience-"
"Well, he did." Xander said, speaking up to the lawyer for the first time in the entire conversation, "He forced me. My…father even tried to tell him not to, but he said he had to. Said that he didn't care if he died as long as he killed me. He said the entire family rested on my death."
Lorimina gasped, then stepped back and away from both Cordelia and the two escapees. Obviously upset, the lawyer carefully looked at Xander, then at Darla, who was still holding him as he lay mostly on the floor of the lobby, her fingers gently cupping the broken leg.
"Dear God, he-"
Suddenly, Darla jumped up from the floor, tossed the injured necromancer over her shoulder, and ran out of the building. No one stopped her; no one was fast enough, and most of the people in the lobby were either confused, interested in what had startled their boss so badly, or in shock.
Cordelia gave one last glare at the lawyer, then followed.
Neither the vampiress nor the seer saw her fall to her knees in shock and fear. They missed it as Lorimina's breath hitched up and down as she held down sobs. And they certainly were unaware of the moan she let out.
But Xander saw, and despite it all, he couldn't help but feel sorry for her. She didn't have a father anymore, and that was a pain he was familiar with. Luckily, he'd sort of gotten his back (though he knew that his own father still had much work to do till they could really bond again), but she never would.
Then his thoughts were lost as he was tossed painfully into the back seat of the covertible, and the world went black.
##
"I can't make that decision for him."
Was that Angel's voice? Xander couldn't really tell.
"But, Mr. Angel, as you well know-"
"No." Yeah, that was Angel. And he sounded ticked if Xander could tell with any measure of certainty. He wondered which of his rather lame snaps had set off the broody vampire, then realized that the anger wasn't toward him, but rather defending him. That made him wonder what was going on, and it was this curiosity that gave him the strength to open his eyes.
He took in the scene quickly. Cordelia was sitting beside him, with Doyle and Wesley standing next to her (Doyle obviously the closest), while Angel stood toe-to-toe with a young black woman carrying several folders in her hand, and more then a few scathing remarks waiting in her mouth.
"Who're you?" the dazed necromancer asked bluntly.
The dark-skinned woman in the power suit to whom the question was addressed immediately spun on her pumps to face the young man who had just woken up in his hospital bed. She looked as if she was about to yell at him too, but obviously reconsidered as she remembered the part about him being in a hospital bed.
"My name is Vera Maat," the woman explained with a bit of a huff, which Xander could forgive her for. He knew well what it was like trying to argue with the souled vampire who even now was glaring at her, and knew that it would aggravate anyone, "And I'm here-"
"To try and convince you to become the exclusive property of Gryffin & Draco." Angel finished for her, adding a bit of his own huff to the comment.
Xander quirked an eyebrow, then decided against it as pain lanced through his eyes and into his head.
"But weren't you telling me that I SHOULD work for them?" he asked in confusion, no small part of that being from the fact that he'd just woken up. Xander, whether LaVelle or Harris, Zeppo or Necromancer, was not fit for anything without having some food in him first.
"Yes," Wesley picked up for his boss, "However, as Angel was pointing out, the decision is ultimately yours."
"Mine." Xander said.
"Yes, yours." The former Watcher repeated.
"Mine." The young man repeated.
"Yes, yours…" Vera said, cutting off Wesley from saying it.
"And…you want me?" Xander asked carefully, sitting up gingerly from his hospital bed so that he could look the woman in the eyes. "You honestly want me to work for your firm?"
The woman flushed, then fiddled with her papers a bit before answering. "Well, yes, Mr. LaVelle, we-"
"Harris."
"What?" Vera asked as she nearly dropped the entire stack.
"My name is Xander Harris," he told her with a gentle smile, "I happen to be one of the Scooby Gang, the infamous band who help the Slayer save the world on a regular basis. I do excellent donut-fetching, can be thrown several feet into a wall and still stand, not to mention my ability to wise-crack my way out of just about everthing."
Vera simply stared.
"Oh yeah, and as you're aware, I can raise the dead…" he said with a lop-sided grin. "Now, I'd be happy to work for you. Join the team. Kick some Wolfram & Hart ass and all…but I have one request."
The young woman's eyes shone with expectation.
"What? We'll pay you whatever you want within reason! We'll give you great health benefits, not to mention-"
"Well, that's all well and good, Ms. Maat." Xander informed her, "But this is a bit more important. You see, if I'm going to be working for you, I'm going to need an assistant."
"Fine."
"And in that vein, I want you to extend this position to Darla."
The entire room went silent at that remark.
Vera's mouth dropped open, as did Angel's, while Cordelia's eyes blinked wide. Wesley held the chair the seer was sitting on, but Doyle simply let out a small chuckle.
He'd known the boy was going to pull something. And he had a feeling this had been the correct thing to pull.
"Darla?" Angel asked unsurely, obviously wishing that he didn't have vampire hearing
"Yes," affirmed Xander as he once more pushed himself up. It might have hurt, but he sure as hell wasn't going to show any weakness on this point.
"Darla?" asked Cordelia in an echo of the vampire's comment, "As in psycho-vampiress who tried to shoot up Buffy among others? Not to mention the fact that she was the one that made Angel here all dark-loving and fangy?"
"Yup, same one I'm talking about." Xander insisted, "My, how sharp you've gotten here in the big city, Cordy. Now where is she?"
Suddenly, a guilty look crossed every face in the room other than the necromancer's. This, in turn, caused said necromancer to gain a rather angry expression.
"Look, guys…as much as I appreciate all the work you put into helping me, and all the times you've saved my ass, I…Darla…I owe Darla. And I think I know how to help her." Xander sighed in deeply, "Where is she?"
There was once again silence.
"Where?"
Finally, Cordelia's eyes rose from the floor and met Xander's.
"We don't know." She admitted, "We kinda…threw her out of the car shortly after you went unconscious. Didn't want to risk her doing anything. She was knocked out cold last we saw."
Xander now was the silent one as he realized something. "You did throw her into a building, right?" he asked slowly, as if to take the sting out of what he just knew was going to be the answer.
There was no answer, and Xander took a deep breath. "What time is it?"
"Five A.M."
The young necromancer absorbed this information, then jumped out of the bed.
Immediately, he rolled backwards into his bed with a cry of pain. Angel reached out to help him, but the dark-haired human roughly shoved the vampire off of his arm. The souled vampire retreated at the rebuttal, knowing that it was anger and not hate which fueled the shove. Something had happened in that building, during the escape, which had changed him nearly as much as the awakening of his powers had. Angel, who had witnessed more world-changing events then anyone else in the room, realized that something important was going on.
Vera, however, didn't realize this and tried to speak to him next. Xander simply threw all of her folders to the floor and glared at her.
"After I get her…" he told the lawyer, meaning the words like he'd never meant anything else, "I promise. After."
Vera, still kneeling as she picked up her files, nodded solemnly. She knew that tone, had used it to get herself where she was today. She understood.
After a second, Xander once more slid out of the bed, this time grabbing the well-placed crutch near his bed and utilizing it. It took every ounce of power from his battered body to do it, but he stood straight up.
"I'll be back in a minute, okay?" he said to them, as if it was perfectly normal, "Can I borrow the car, Deadboy?"
Angel tossed him the keys immediately.
And Xander, his head held high, limped out of the hospital room, leaving a room full of very confused and rather nervous people.
##
Xander's head was spinning and his heart was beating like a drummer on speed. For the first time in his admittedly short life, he had no idea what he was doing.
"No, that's not true…" the young man hissed to himself as he made his way down to the elevator, "I know exactly what I'm doing. I'm walking out on a six-figure salary, pushing away the friends-"
He thought of Angel and Wesley.
"People who've helped saved the world to go after the homicidal vampiress who killed my best friend and would rip out my eyeballs if she could. Smart, Harris, real smart…"
And yet, despite his comments to the contrary, he knew he had to. There was a burning need inside of him, something which had been born in that elevator shaft as the human and the vampire had stood in front of the large metal doors which tried to hold them for their deaths. This something demanded that he seek her out, that he find and take care of her, and he was frightened to discover that it was his heart.
This was wrong, he knew. This was so very very wrong that his situation was probably written right next to the word 'wrong' in the dictionary, but he knew he had to do it. Xander was like a man under a geas, completely unable to stop what he was doing. And despite the pain and the fatigue, not to mention the anger, anguish, and improbability, he knew he'd find her.
He knew he'd find her like he knew that the sun would rise. He knew he'd find her like he knew the tides would change.
He knew he'd find her, because something within him was guiding him to her, telling him where to turn and how to go, even though he hadn't even noticed getting into the car or making his way out of the parking lot.
Turn.
Right.
Straight till the next light.
Right.
Keep going till-
There!
Immediately, the injured necromancer slammed his cast onto the break peddle, feeling the pain as it shot up his leg. He should have screamed, but for some reason couldn't find the primal instinct within himself. Too much was on the line…too much pain already handed to the Reaper for this to count. He had used up his quotient for the week.
Quickly, more quickly then he should have been able to move in his condition, Xander made his way out of the car and to the body sprawled across the small patch of grass in the eastern corner of the large park.
Blonde hair blowing over her now-calm face, the blue and black marks already healing from injuries he hadn't even noticed hours earlier. One leg at an unnatural angle that should've kept her screaming in pain if she hadn't used up her quotient as well. Lips cold and purple in the chilly air of L.A.
Those lips drank the blood out of your best friend…
The voice of reason attempted even now to reign him in, whispering seductively into his mind like the serpent holding out a basket of apples.
Those arms have snapped the necks of victims the world over…
No, he cried out to himself even as he lowered his body slowly to cradle the smaller, unmoving mass, that's the past. And it wasn't her. I know it wasn't her. It was what the Master wanted her to be, what the demon within her made her do.
Those arms held me. Those arms opened the doors to freedom. Those arms lifted me up and took me to safety.
And those lips…I want to ki-
No…that Xander couldn't complete. She needed to have her soul first. As soon as she got her soul back, he could-
"Xander?" came the weak and trembling voice from within the haven of his arms, "Xander? Is that you?"
Immediately, the young necromancer pulled her up so that he could see her face. Still battered, despite the vampiric healing. Lidded eyes staring up at him in confusion and…hope.
"Yeah, Darla. It's me, you stupid bitch…" he murmured back to her, his tone not matching his words in the least.
"Thought it was you, dumbass…" the beaten vampiress replied with a painful smirk, "How'd we get here? And why can't I move?"
Xander looked down at her leg, and Darla's eyes followed his.
"Oh…" she said with a tired smile. Then she looked at the sky.
"Is that dawn?"
Xander only nodded. He didn't trust himself to talk. Not now…not when he had a stake in one pocket and a bag of blood he'd picked up on the way out in the other. Not when it was all on the line, when his emotions were so lost and incomprehensible.
Why can't I find someone to love me? Is it because I'm a monster?
A new voice spoke.
Then what better love then a monster?
Xander's eyes opened in shock at his own thoughts. No, he wasn't a monster. Doyle had made sure he knew that. But, and this was the part that truly struck him, he wasn't human. He wasn't normal. He would never be normal. He wasn't going to settle down to a normal life, with a normal wife, and have normal children.
He was a necromancer. He was a LaVelle.
He was a fighter for the Light.
Suddenly, he felt a light smack on his arm. Pulling himself from his deep thoughts, Xander glanced down to see Darla staring pointedly at the rising sun.
"Oh yeah…" he realized. Then he tried to pick her up, which resulted in nothing but him toppling over in pain.
"Good job, blue-eye…" Darla laughed.
"Oh shut up, beautiful…"
This startled the blonde vampire into silence.
"Well," Xander thought out loud as he got himself up, "My powers should be a little recharged by now. I should be able to do a bit levitation."
He looked down to Darla, who was still shocked.
Without further ado, Xander made a lifting motion with his hands as he said a few unintelligible words and the body of the vampiress lifted off of the ground. He pointed to the car and Darla floated that way till he gave a downward point which settled her down on the back seat. As quick as possible, he got into the driver's seat.
Darla was staring at him.
"Well," he said at last as he started up the car and put the top up, "I figure I get you a soul and we'll be all set. Hell, I figure that if we survived getting out of that damned law firm, we're tough enough to try for something."
Xander took a peek and saw the vampire blinking in the back seat.
"My…soul…"
"The thing that came with your body the first time around?" Xander prodded, "You know, that little voice which said 'killing is bad'?"
This earned him a growl.
"Jeez, do vampires get PMS?" he asked as he turned his eyes back to the road. This was better…this felt right.
"No. Vampires never get PMS…" she told him, "But the souled ones can get pretty upset when you accuse them of being souless…Take me for example-"
Cars cannot turn themselves inside out with their own independent force. However, Xander felt the need to test this out and immediately slammed on the breaks in the middle of the road. Though it didn't actually happen, the car gave it a good try.
"What did you just say?" he asked her as he spun around to look her in the face.
Darla's eyes dropped to stare at the car floor.
"I have a soul…"
Xander realized that he was stopped in the middle of the road, pulled into a parking spot, then simply stared at her.
"What do you mean you have a soul?"
The vampiress glared, but it didn't effect Xander because there was so much more pain in her eyes then anger. "I mean I have a soul…you know…the little voice that says 'killing is bad'?"
Xander snorted at the retort. "But…how is that possible?"
"I don't know either, okay?!" Darla answered angrily, "I don't know why I returned with this damn soul, but I hate it. I hate feeling like this. I hate knowing that I've destroyed the precious and irreplaceable lives of hundreds…thousands. I hate thinking about the fact that my victims had futures, and husbands, and family, and wives, and friends, and jobs! I hate thinking that now, everything I knew and lived by for hundreds of years is so wrong!
"Do you know why I was still sprawled on that grass, Xander? It wasn't because I couldn't get up, though goodness knows that I've gone through some pretty rough shit tonight. It was because I was just so tired. I hated that weight on my soul. I didn't want to live with this guilt. I didn't WANT to get up."
Xander absorbed what she'd said, then nodded slowly. After, the young man snaked his arm between the seats and gently lifted the vampire's chin till he could look into her eyes.
"Did you get up because I came for you?"
There was a soft hiss which was then clarified by a deliberate nod.
"Was it because I, Xander Harris, came for you?"
Another nod.
"And do you know that I'm in love with you?"
Xander couldn't believe that the words had actually come out of his mouth, but he knew that they were what needed to be said. He couldn't explain how he suddenly knew that the odd sensations and needs with himself were really love, but he did. He knew. And he had to be honest with her; he couldn't let things simply stay. This night, and the day fast approaching, was a time of change for him…for the world. But it all hinged on the answer.
Finally, Darla opened her mouth.
"Yes."
"And…" Xander said, feeling a thick ball of emotion in his throat which was difficult to speak around, "despite the fact that none of this makes any sense, and that we're both probably crazy from the events of tonight, are you in love with me?"
"Yes."
There was silence, then Xander turned around, cleared his throat as well as the tension, and started up the car again.
"Well then, now that that's all straightened out, I guess I can get Deadboy back his beloved Nick-Knight-wannabe car…"
There was a pause, and then a soft giggle from the back seat as he drove towards the hospital until Xander realized he'd forgotten one very important part of it all.
He pulled over, then slowly got out of the car and into the back seat. Darla, who had sat up to look out the sunlight-proof windows, stared at him.
Well, until he kissed her, of course. Then she had other things on her mind, like warm, soft lips, and hands which were touching in all the right places. Eyes so close to hers and so full of sincerity, adoration, and only the tiniest bit of confusion.
They pulled apart a few minutes later.
"That was…"
"How do…"
"We should probably…"
They both looked at the floor.
"How am I gonna tell Deadboy that I'm in love with this mom? He'll go-"
And Darla silenced him the most interesting way she knew.
"But-"
"Oh, Shut up, Xander…" she told him.
And it stayed shut since Xander's mouth was busy with other things.