Part 5
Cordelia sat at the back of the room, agitatedly flicking through the very large, very heavy book of demonology. They had been in Sunnydale for over a week, and so far, nothing, nada, zip. It had taken Liam a few days to recover from his and Spike's little excursion -- after the telling of what was no doubt a morbid, gross story, Liam and the bleached nitwit had proceeded to get so drunk they nearly fell of the face of the earth. They'd wandered into the door of the Magic Box just before sunrise, and Spike's precious hair was starting to sizzle. He was attempting to teach Liam the drunk's version of My Way, and obviously not having much luck. Not much of a surprise, Cordelia thought, since they were both so smashed that they were clinging to each other, and having a lot of trouble stringing sentences together. Spike had then proceeded to have a good old drunken babble for the next hour or so, while Liam sat in the corner staring at the wall, and occasionally having fits of giggles. She smirked; she had so much information on the adventures of both Angelus and Spike now that if either one turned evil and homicidal again, she'd be able to blackmail her way out of danger. That story about Spike, Dru, Angelus, a stable and some villagers was etched into her memory. She couldn't forget that one, no matter how much she wanted to. Giles had already decided that he would have to correct the Council on Spike's other nickname, which was obviously a misspelling: it shouldn't be 'William the Bloody', but 'William the Blotto'. There had been a rendition of 'The Hills Are Alive', followed by 'Merlin, the Happy Pig'. It was a shame he'd passed out before he could finish his recitation of his original poem: "Lovelier than a rose is your resplendent little nose."
So, having recovered from what seemed to be a three day hangover, Liam had retreated to the shadows of the upstairs apartment, where Giles was letting him stay - although, 'letting him' was probably an exaggeration, since Liam was refusing to move - with mutterings of "English eejit" and "bugger should have stayed dead". They had all nearly given up hope that he'd ever re-emerge, but, after another couple of days of consuming all of Giles' food and beverages, he'd staggered down the stairs and announced that they could "do your worst, I'm ready." So, with that, everyone had exchanged glances, and Buffy had offered to try.
Cordelia sighed. She really didn't want to have to trust the Slayer with Liam, but she didn't have any other options. If scary memories is what it would take to bring Angel back, she was sure Buffy would have a stackful.She'd seen all of Angel's various highs and lows, not to mention the I-want-to-kill-you-and-everyone-you-care-about and I-shall-destroy-the-world phases. If Liam had reacted so badly to Spike's tale of chaos and mayhem, she didn't want to know what he might think if told that he'd wanted to have the world sucked into hell, and the fact that he'd spent hundreds of years in the bowels of hell itself. She carefully turned another page of the guide, and sucked in a breath as she saw the illustration. Ugh, the pictures in this book were really gruesome, and it was so fragile she was afraid it might snap in two.
They'd been researching for hours every day. Wesley was enjoying playing the Watcher with Giles again, and, unlike the last time, they were actually getting along quite well. Just went to show how much everyone in Los Angeles had changed. Hopefully the Scoobies were all finally getting that. Cordelia had started to notice that they were treating her with a little less loathing than usual, and actually some respect after they'd witnessed what a few visions did to her. The Powers seemed to have finally gotten the idea that Angel was out of commission for a while - hell, this whole mess was probably one of their twisted games to keep themselves amused - and the visions had either been minor occurences in LA that Gunn could deal with himself, with some consultation from the miniature Watcher's Council that seemed to be evolving in the shop, or events in Sunnydale. The Scoobies had found it to be incredibly useful to know where and when to be at a place to stop the evil, and Buffy had come to rely on Cordy for her visions, and was almost constantly begging her to have more; Buffy had always found violence a good way to work out her frustrations, and Cordy knew that the two groups of fairly different people being thrown together had caused some conflict, not to mention the Angel issues.
The LA gang were used to pulling all-night research sessions, and then actually helping fight the demons. It was their full-time employment. The residents of Sunnydale, while prepared to help when they could, actually generally had other jobs and lives to get on with. Wesley tended to forget that he wasn't in charge over here, and Xander in particular resented that - especially when Anya started commenting on how she "liked a man with authority and an accent." Buffy in turn wasn't used to having Cordelia and Wesley actively helping against the demons, and didn't like it -she'd gotten a little fond of patrolling solo. As she finally told them, "It's alone time for Buffy. When I reflect on... my crappy existence, and my miserable life. I like my aloneness." Then she'd started to rant at Spike about his following her everywhere, and "just because you obsess over me doesn't mean I obsess over you, 'kay?" Yeah, right, Cordelia thought. She knew as well as everyone else did that Buffy had started to like the idea of having someone love her, no strings attached. Cord wasn't sure if anything really would ever happen, but the banter and flirting, yes, flirting, would continue. They both enjoyed it. Buffy's death and subsequent resurrection seemed to make her develop a stronger friendship with Spike, since he was the only other being who knew some of what she felt. And he was loving it. He obviously still loved the Slayer, but at the moment, was settling for a close friendship - That's what she and Angel had been like, before he'd been replaced with the sweet but annoying Irishman. Cordelia didn't recall asking for an exchange...
The research, so far, had produced absolutely nothing useful; at least, not when it came to the Liam/Angel conundrum. She'd found plenty of interesting ways to kill various demons, a revitalising herbal face mask, and a way of making one potato into three. And they say that ancient sorcerers were full of hot air, she thought wryly.
Wesley stared at his friend from where he was sitting, also trying to concentrate on research. He was trying not to show it, but he was just slightly worried about Angel... Liam. Yes, he was Liam now. And probably would be for quite some time. Wes didn't want to let Cordelia see the extent of his negativity, but with every hour that passed, he started to drift further and further into bleak despair. Spike's storytelling abilities had probably caused Liam to regress even further; well, the bugger certainly hadn't helped at all. Wesley wasn't sure if it had been Spike's intention to keep his sire from reappearing, but he'd certainly done a damn good job of it. After he'd sobered up, Liam had been so repulsed by his alter ego that he'd actually refused to talk to any of them for days. Wes really couldn't see Buffy's little effort working, either. The Angelus stories of Sunnydale were probably just as bad as the Angelus of Yore.
He and Cordelia each had a room at the fabulous Sunnydale Motor Inne, whilst Liam had holed himself up in Giles' apartment. On reflection, maybe that was why he and Cordelia had been spending so much time researching here - it was that, or the company of the friendly cockroaches. Cord had said it was "almost as bad" as her last apartment - he didn't even care to imagine what that must have been like. As it was, they were still here, having had a total of what felt like four hours sleep in the last week, searching for prophecies that might give them some idea of just what the hell had happened. Upon reading and translating the same scroll for the fourth time, Wesley had very nearly given up hope. Cordelia, however, was using enthusiasm to cover what he could only think to be the grief he had started to feel.
Just as she was getting immersed in the research again, Cordelia heard the tinkling of the bells that were attached to the front door, swiftly followed by Hurricane Liam marching through and stomping upstairs, Buffy quietly walking behind.
"Well?" Cordy prompted. She couldn't imagine the news could be good, but it was worth asking.
Buffy frowned. "Not a flicker. What can I do? I took him to all the places I remember he used to love, or hate, in this town. Anything to dredge up the pain. I even tried Acathla and the Mansion, but it didn't work."
"I take it his reaction was bad," Wesley said. Buffy nodded.
"He was fine with the stories I told him of the time Angel and I spent together, apart from... apart from the lechery, and comments that 'blondes aren't his type'," Cordy bit her lip to keep herself from smirking, whilst Buffy continued to frown. "I told him all about us having sex, and him turning bad, and Angelus, and Dru and Spike. He didn't like the part where he killed Ms Calendar, and the hell-sucking didn't go down well, either." Cordy flinched at the memories accosting her, and the apparent tactlessness of the new, oddly improved Buffy as did Giles and Dawn, who was helping them out. Well, not exactly helping, more... sitting and commenting how bored she was, and how much she disliked Angel anyway. They had explained the Key situation to Cordy, and she found it fascinating, and a bit creepy. It led her to wonder if Dawn remembered everything the same way they did...
"So he's just going to sit up there and feel sorry for himself, again?" Dawn asked. "Well, why doesn't someone just explain to him what an incredible loser he's being, and that..."
"Dawn. Bad time," Buffy said, and grabbed her sister by the arm. "Guys, I'm so sorry. Just... keep looking, 'kay? Dawn has school tomorrow, and needs to get some sleep."
"No, I don't! Would you stop treating me like a baby, I'm not..." Dawn continued to whine at Buffy as she was dragged out the door. Those remaining in the shop just sat in silence for a second.
"You know, perhaps there is a good idea within all of Dawn's blathering," Giles said. "Have either of you tried talking to him? It could help." Cordelia and Wesley looked at each other. That was the one thing they rather stupidly hadn't thought of. Having left LA, they had each been throwing countless little theories about, but had never thought of really talking to Liam themselves. Wesley gave Cordelia a meaningful look.
"Fine, I'll do it," she said, gathering enough energy to stand up. Fighting off the head rush that was threatening to knock her over, she wandered over to the stairs, and hauled herself up them .Looking at her watch, she realised it was nearly 2am. No wonder she was feeling so lethargic.
She stopped in front of the door to the spare bedroom Liam had taken up residence in. Pausing for a second, she gathered her thoughts together. She had no idea what she was going to say, but she had to try. She was starting to wonder if she really had lost Angel for ever, if she'd never have to put up with his odd sense of humour, his over-protectiveness, or see that rare smile -- no. No, she wouldn't think about it. Come on, Chase, positivity! She'd leave the worrying and the glass is half empty 'tude to Wyndam-Pryce, eternal pessimist. She took a deep breath, then knocked.
"Liam? It's Cordy. Can I come in?" No response. That was strange - she'd knocked loud enough to wake the dead, which Liam wasn't any more. She tried again. There was nothing but a horrible silence. And Liam didn't seem to be a taciturn kind of guy. "Liam, I'm coming in." She quietly opened the door, and then gasped in horror at the sight that greeted her. "Oh, no, oh God..."
To be continued....