Part Two
"Star of 'Dawson's Creek'?" Neria asked hopefully.
"And rob the world of those Van Der Beek soulful moments?" Typically, that was Oz's usual answer to each of her suggestions. Granted, she was just playing with him but something should have rung a little tempting. The power of a genie wouldn't work because Oz wasn't fond of the lamp-sized accommodations. Bill Gate's money was of no interest because he didn't respect the Windows operating system. He said a quick no to becoming Russell Crowe cause Meg Ryan scared him, just a little bit.
Neria sat with her fingers folded in front of her face with a look of powerful meditation, watching him remove, slowly, piece by extremely small piece, the label from the bottle that had been long empty. It was getting a little annoying. She reached forward and snatched the bottle from his hands, throwing it over the side of the table. Instead of the expected 'bottle hitting the floor' clamor, Oz received the unexpected boom of nothingness. That, in turn, irritated Oz, a reminder that he wasn't in control of this situation.
"If you don't give me something to work with, we will have to go to Phase Two."
"If it involves whips and chains, count me in."
Neria smiled a secret little smile, "Ask and ye shall receive. Just give me a few minutes to pick up some leather."
The table in front of the guitarist quickly dissolved into nothingness and once again, he was transported someplace else, someplace so familiar the knowledge of his location came to him in an instant. Considering the amount of time he had spent in places just like this with Willow, Oz could recognize a Sunnydale cemetery at fifty paces. The perfect grass, the atypical headstones artistically aligned, the habitual smell of newly broken earth, this was definitely one of the many cemeteries found in the lovely picturesque town. As long as your idea of picturesque was demon infested, but otherwise it was a charming town.
He had been deposited on top of one of the headstones, its height just tall enough to keep his feet from touching the ground. Oz swiftly jumped off, brushed the nonexistent dust from his jeans and glanced around for the cruise director of this wacky ride. Neria was perched, yoga style and betraying a few laws of gravity, on a nearby tombstone looking at peace with the world, universe, and everything contained within it. Her black hair reflected the moonlight of the half full moon, her skin glowing despite her dark surroundings. She was still wearing the same black pants and shirt she had on when she approached him in the bar.
"Why?" Oz asked breaking her mediation.
"Cause leather does nothing for these hips." Neria opened one eye, reading the face that was standing directly in front of her.
He sighed and brought his eyebrows together in frustration. He knew that she knew what he meant but asked the question again anyway. "Why Sunnydale?"
"Where else? Sunnydale is the center of your pain. This is where you were wounded and won't let yourself heal. It is like you have a rubber band attached to your heart and no matter where you go, sooner or later, you will get snapped back."
"Is this my rubber band moment?" Oz said in a dry tone.
She sighed and looked him straight in the eye, "What made you an excellent target is located in Sunnydale and I'm surprised some other demon didn't try to recruit you for their team."
"Get this over with." Oz was feeling agitated, claustrophobic, as if a warm clammy hand was gripping the back of his neck and wouldn't let go. Or perhaps there really was a rubber band but it was attached like a noose around the neck.
Neria leaned forward but still remained perfectly balanced on her perch, her voice was deathly calm. "Just tell me what you want, Oz."
"I want to have never met you."
"Why? So you can keep up your nomadic lifestyle? This may just be the view from the cheap seats but it doesn't seem as cool as they advertise on the brochure."
He shot a look at her that silently stated how he really felt about her little game. He started pacing before her, like a caged animal at a zoo, scratching the back of his collar.
Neria decided to take some pity on him and get this show on the road. She stood up, unfolding herself delicately from her previous position. She grabbed him on his last paced circuit in front of her and took the chance to twine her arm around his. "Come on, we got some people to visit."
Oz tensed and felt himself transported, yet again. He was starting to get used to it. This time, he found himself in the middle of the Dingo's living room. It looked the same, a little worse for wear and the same yard sale treasures furnished the room with an air of party-durable. The spawn of Satan moved to take a seat on the arm of an over stuffed armchair.
"I don't care! I don't want to hear it!"
Devon walked in with the other members of the band following close to his heels. He was looking for something under the sheets of newspapers littering the coffee table. "Oz is gone, man. When are you going to wake up and realize this?"
Devon halted briefly in his hunt and turned, "No he is not. End of discussion."
The drummer took up the cause, "Oz is gone and he is never coming back. Those songs he's sending are just guilt tokens and we need a guitarist. The Bronze won't even book us anymore without one. They threatened to take back their money the last time."
"We tried a temp, it didn't work."
"You didn't give him a chance." He paused, scratching his chin stubble and suddenly couldn't look Devon in the face. "We need to start auditioning for a new guitarist or we walk."
"Oh really." Devon returned to the search.
"Is that all you have to say?"
He didn't even want to think about what could mean for the Dingoes, let alone muster up a response. Devon wasn't finding what he was looking for on the coffee table so decided to try under the sofa.
Neria cocked her head to one side, admiring how his pants seemed to nicely package Devon's rear assets. Oz gave her a stern look and asked, "Is this really happening?"
"Yep. The rules state that I can't mess with any outsiders but I can annoy you all I want. Besides, the truth is so much more effective than any fairytale."
Oz shook his head and returned his attention to the scene at hand. Devon finally hit pay dirt and found his car keys. "Well?" The drummer asked impatiently.
Devon grabbed his leather jacket and started for the door, "Walk, I don't care. But we are not getting another guitarist for my band until Oz tells me himself he is out." His hand was on the doorknob before he looked back at them. "If anyone asks, I'm going to meet Nikki."
"What if Kellie asks?"
"Who's Kellie?"
"That hot little chick you call your girlfriend."
"Oh, yeah. Make something up." Devon walked out the door and to his car. The other band members went off in their own directions, feeling like nothing was accomplished from that little impromptu band meeting. They had fought about this before but this was the first time the threat of quitting entered into play. They had some thinking to do.
Neria spoke softly, looking at Oz. "You know what I love most about guys? Their loyalty to their friends. It is almost unbreakable, beautiful to see. Tragic."
He wouldn't meet her gaze, eyes staring out into the night of the dark window. "I never asked Devon to wait for me. Ever."
She moved and stood close enough behind him to feel a faith heat radiating from his body. Still speaking softly, almost to herself, "Guys will remain loyal even if they know it is the worst possible decision imaginable."
"I want to leave."
"'Kay."
Again they were transported but this time it was back to the cemetery. Sitting in front of Oz was the tombstone he never thought he would see; Tara Maclay. "What happened?"
Neria moved from behind Oz to stand slightly to his right. "Stray bullet; she's in a better place now. It was all very moving. Emotional. Angsty. Slightly apocalyptic but then what isn't in Sunnydale?"
He stepped forward and traced the carving on the tombstone with his fingers.. It didn't seem real.
Neria waited patiently. "I figured this was something you needed to know about. It might help explain something later." Oz stood and glanced back at her, raising an eyebrow in question. "Besides, since I'm in town, I have an errand to run and it isn't far from here."
They started walking up a gravel path. He remembered walking the same trail with Willow several times when they were trying to fill in as a slayer substitute that summer a lifetime ago. "How do you know Tara is in a better place?"
"Company newsletter." Stopping in front of the most derelict crypt in the place, she grasped his arm and pulled him through the closed door.
There, lying passed out, dead to the world, was Spike. The crypt reeked with alcohol and the floor was covered in empty blood bags and broken glass.
"Aaahhh. did Spikey lose his honey-bunny?" Neria's face held a small smile as she took in Spike's pitiful appearance. As she walked around his still body, she noted the stained and ripped clothing. His hair had grown out and returned to its natural wavy golden state but it was matted and in need of a wash. Lightly placing three fingers on his forehead, she whispered a few quick words. A thin sheet of smoke gathered above Spike and some images started to flicker against it in time with his stream of consciousness. Even Oz could make out glimpses of Buffy's face and her body lying in rubble. Other images seemed filled with fire, hatred, fear but were rather fuzzy due to the amount of alcohol required to be consumed to make a vampire pass out, even for just a brief period of time.
Neria waved her hand lightly above Spike's forehead and the picture show disappeared as fast as it appeared. Lacing her fingers together, she cracked her knuckles in a satisfied way and said, "Good to see things are right on schedule."
"You killing him?" Oz scrunched his brow, still not sure why they were here.
"Killing him?" Neria displayed a flash of uncertainty before hiding herself behind her usual mask of confident detachment. "Why that takes no skill at all. Let's just say that I'm a very sore loser and will do what it takes to win."
She pulled any wrinkles out of her shirt and slowly moved to stand by her charge. "Don't worry about old William here, he entered into this contest freely, even if he may not remember doing so. Some ships take a little extra effort to get them turned onto the right course."
Oz shrugged his shoulder, knowing that there was nothing he could to do help the vampire and not sure if he should anyway. When he left Sunnydale, Spike was one of the bad guys, someone he had held a crossbow against. The good guys didn't help the bad guys especially when the good guy had his own trouble to deal with at the moment. Not to mention Oz was sure his own classification as a "good guy" was in doubt.
Neria shook her head, almost able to hear his thoughts. "Look, we can talk about Spike later. We have more interesting things to do tonight." She lightly touched his shoulder and they were transported to Buffy's house.
Standing just inside the door, they could easily see what was going on around them. that is, if there had been anything going on. It was very quiet, still, everyone in their separate corners. Dawn was sitting at the dining table, working on homework, music blaring through headphones. "Do you remember her?" Neria asked cautiously.
"Dawn? Buffy's sister?"
Neria smiled and clapped him on the back. "Just checkin'." Those monks deserved a commendation.
They both turned quickly when the door behind them opened and Xander and Buffy both walked in. Xander had changed. No longer the lanky, uncomfortable teenager, broad shoulders and conservatively dressed but not in a bad way. Oz noted that Buffy looked the same since Oz had seen her last. She was dressed as fashionable as ever yet comfortable incase of trouble. She also seemed older, adult, and Oz wondered, yet again, what he had missed.
Neria seemed to take an interest in Xander, her eyes giving him more than the once over, "Yum, yum, yum."
She followed close behind Buffy and Xander as they moved into the living room. Oz wasn't paying much attention to what they were talking about, taking stock of the changes to the furnishings and trying not to get too annoyed with Neria's interest in Xander.
She swiftly darted in front of Xander and lightly placed a hand on his chest; he shivered a bit but didn't seem to notice. "Oooh. and a potential client."
That snapped Oz's attention back to what was happening, Neria was giving him her patented wicked smile that broadcasted trouble. Moving faster than any human had any right to, he grabbed her forearm and moved them away from the couple.
"Stay away from Xander," he growled through clenched teeth, emotion rolling off of him in waves. Neria cocked her head to one side as she let Oz drag her across the room. She could have stopped him if she wanted to but was more interested in watching Oz reaction.
"Why do you care what I do with Xander?"
Oz balled his fists in frustration, the beast was rattling against the cage. "He's my friend and I won't watch you hurt him."
"But it will be okay to hurt him once you get back to your magic carpet ride and you won't have to see it? Are those the rules?" Neria challenged him, poking him in the chest. She liked this new side to Oz and closed the gap between them, whispering, "Will he be fair game then?"
"No." Oz held his ground but some of the intensity was starting to drain away.
"Why do you care now? You weren't there for Xander's disastrous non- wedding day, or when Joyce died, or even when Buffy died. Don't you think your friend might have needed you in the last three years?"
Grinding his teeth and looking away, he didn't have an answer for her.
"Buffy died?" Part of what she had said clicked in Oz's head, his eyes darting to locate her in the room. She looked real enough.
"Well, this is Sunnydale. They really should just rename it 'Enterprise' but I'm sure there would be some kind of copyright issue with that."
"How?"
"A god from another dimension, a small 'g' god, wanted to go home. It used Dawn as a doorknocker, and didn't care if this world was destroyed in the process. Yet another one of those slightly apocalyptic Sunnydale moments."
"No, how did she come back?"
Neria smiled, happy to answer that question. "Here, let me show you." She said and bounded up the stairs with the glee of a child who couldn't contain the excitement of surprising you with a giant present.
Oz glanced back to Xander and Buffy and only let his eyes follow Neria to the second floor. He knew that it would be a big mistake to see what was up there but if tonight's pattern held true, he wouldn't have much choice in the matter.
End of Part Two
"Star of 'Dawson's Creek'?" Neria asked hopefully.
"And rob the world of those Van Der Beek soulful moments?" Typically, that was Oz's usual answer to each of her suggestions. Granted, she was just playing with him but something should have rung a little tempting. The power of a genie wouldn't work because Oz wasn't fond of the lamp-sized accommodations. Bill Gate's money was of no interest because he didn't respect the Windows operating system. He said a quick no to becoming Russell Crowe cause Meg Ryan scared him, just a little bit.
Neria sat with her fingers folded in front of her face with a look of powerful meditation, watching him remove, slowly, piece by extremely small piece, the label from the bottle that had been long empty. It was getting a little annoying. She reached forward and snatched the bottle from his hands, throwing it over the side of the table. Instead of the expected 'bottle hitting the floor' clamor, Oz received the unexpected boom of nothingness. That, in turn, irritated Oz, a reminder that he wasn't in control of this situation.
"If you don't give me something to work with, we will have to go to Phase Two."
"If it involves whips and chains, count me in."
Neria smiled a secret little smile, "Ask and ye shall receive. Just give me a few minutes to pick up some leather."
The table in front of the guitarist quickly dissolved into nothingness and once again, he was transported someplace else, someplace so familiar the knowledge of his location came to him in an instant. Considering the amount of time he had spent in places just like this with Willow, Oz could recognize a Sunnydale cemetery at fifty paces. The perfect grass, the atypical headstones artistically aligned, the habitual smell of newly broken earth, this was definitely one of the many cemeteries found in the lovely picturesque town. As long as your idea of picturesque was demon infested, but otherwise it was a charming town.
He had been deposited on top of one of the headstones, its height just tall enough to keep his feet from touching the ground. Oz swiftly jumped off, brushed the nonexistent dust from his jeans and glanced around for the cruise director of this wacky ride. Neria was perched, yoga style and betraying a few laws of gravity, on a nearby tombstone looking at peace with the world, universe, and everything contained within it. Her black hair reflected the moonlight of the half full moon, her skin glowing despite her dark surroundings. She was still wearing the same black pants and shirt she had on when she approached him in the bar.
"Why?" Oz asked breaking her mediation.
"Cause leather does nothing for these hips." Neria opened one eye, reading the face that was standing directly in front of her.
He sighed and brought his eyebrows together in frustration. He knew that she knew what he meant but asked the question again anyway. "Why Sunnydale?"
"Where else? Sunnydale is the center of your pain. This is where you were wounded and won't let yourself heal. It is like you have a rubber band attached to your heart and no matter where you go, sooner or later, you will get snapped back."
"Is this my rubber band moment?" Oz said in a dry tone.
She sighed and looked him straight in the eye, "What made you an excellent target is located in Sunnydale and I'm surprised some other demon didn't try to recruit you for their team."
"Get this over with." Oz was feeling agitated, claustrophobic, as if a warm clammy hand was gripping the back of his neck and wouldn't let go. Or perhaps there really was a rubber band but it was attached like a noose around the neck.
Neria leaned forward but still remained perfectly balanced on her perch, her voice was deathly calm. "Just tell me what you want, Oz."
"I want to have never met you."
"Why? So you can keep up your nomadic lifestyle? This may just be the view from the cheap seats but it doesn't seem as cool as they advertise on the brochure."
He shot a look at her that silently stated how he really felt about her little game. He started pacing before her, like a caged animal at a zoo, scratching the back of his collar.
Neria decided to take some pity on him and get this show on the road. She stood up, unfolding herself delicately from her previous position. She grabbed him on his last paced circuit in front of her and took the chance to twine her arm around his. "Come on, we got some people to visit."
Oz tensed and felt himself transported, yet again. He was starting to get used to it. This time, he found himself in the middle of the Dingo's living room. It looked the same, a little worse for wear and the same yard sale treasures furnished the room with an air of party-durable. The spawn of Satan moved to take a seat on the arm of an over stuffed armchair.
"I don't care! I don't want to hear it!"
Devon walked in with the other members of the band following close to his heels. He was looking for something under the sheets of newspapers littering the coffee table. "Oz is gone, man. When are you going to wake up and realize this?"
Devon halted briefly in his hunt and turned, "No he is not. End of discussion."
The drummer took up the cause, "Oz is gone and he is never coming back. Those songs he's sending are just guilt tokens and we need a guitarist. The Bronze won't even book us anymore without one. They threatened to take back their money the last time."
"We tried a temp, it didn't work."
"You didn't give him a chance." He paused, scratching his chin stubble and suddenly couldn't look Devon in the face. "We need to start auditioning for a new guitarist or we walk."
"Oh really." Devon returned to the search.
"Is that all you have to say?"
He didn't even want to think about what could mean for the Dingoes, let alone muster up a response. Devon wasn't finding what he was looking for on the coffee table so decided to try under the sofa.
Neria cocked her head to one side, admiring how his pants seemed to nicely package Devon's rear assets. Oz gave her a stern look and asked, "Is this really happening?"
"Yep. The rules state that I can't mess with any outsiders but I can annoy you all I want. Besides, the truth is so much more effective than any fairytale."
Oz shook his head and returned his attention to the scene at hand. Devon finally hit pay dirt and found his car keys. "Well?" The drummer asked impatiently.
Devon grabbed his leather jacket and started for the door, "Walk, I don't care. But we are not getting another guitarist for my band until Oz tells me himself he is out." His hand was on the doorknob before he looked back at them. "If anyone asks, I'm going to meet Nikki."
"What if Kellie asks?"
"Who's Kellie?"
"That hot little chick you call your girlfriend."
"Oh, yeah. Make something up." Devon walked out the door and to his car. The other band members went off in their own directions, feeling like nothing was accomplished from that little impromptu band meeting. They had fought about this before but this was the first time the threat of quitting entered into play. They had some thinking to do.
Neria spoke softly, looking at Oz. "You know what I love most about guys? Their loyalty to their friends. It is almost unbreakable, beautiful to see. Tragic."
He wouldn't meet her gaze, eyes staring out into the night of the dark window. "I never asked Devon to wait for me. Ever."
She moved and stood close enough behind him to feel a faith heat radiating from his body. Still speaking softly, almost to herself, "Guys will remain loyal even if they know it is the worst possible decision imaginable."
"I want to leave."
"'Kay."
Again they were transported but this time it was back to the cemetery. Sitting in front of Oz was the tombstone he never thought he would see; Tara Maclay. "What happened?"
Neria moved from behind Oz to stand slightly to his right. "Stray bullet; she's in a better place now. It was all very moving. Emotional. Angsty. Slightly apocalyptic but then what isn't in Sunnydale?"
He stepped forward and traced the carving on the tombstone with his fingers.. It didn't seem real.
Neria waited patiently. "I figured this was something you needed to know about. It might help explain something later." Oz stood and glanced back at her, raising an eyebrow in question. "Besides, since I'm in town, I have an errand to run and it isn't far from here."
They started walking up a gravel path. He remembered walking the same trail with Willow several times when they were trying to fill in as a slayer substitute that summer a lifetime ago. "How do you know Tara is in a better place?"
"Company newsletter." Stopping in front of the most derelict crypt in the place, she grasped his arm and pulled him through the closed door.
There, lying passed out, dead to the world, was Spike. The crypt reeked with alcohol and the floor was covered in empty blood bags and broken glass.
"Aaahhh. did Spikey lose his honey-bunny?" Neria's face held a small smile as she took in Spike's pitiful appearance. As she walked around his still body, she noted the stained and ripped clothing. His hair had grown out and returned to its natural wavy golden state but it was matted and in need of a wash. Lightly placing three fingers on his forehead, she whispered a few quick words. A thin sheet of smoke gathered above Spike and some images started to flicker against it in time with his stream of consciousness. Even Oz could make out glimpses of Buffy's face and her body lying in rubble. Other images seemed filled with fire, hatred, fear but were rather fuzzy due to the amount of alcohol required to be consumed to make a vampire pass out, even for just a brief period of time.
Neria waved her hand lightly above Spike's forehead and the picture show disappeared as fast as it appeared. Lacing her fingers together, she cracked her knuckles in a satisfied way and said, "Good to see things are right on schedule."
"You killing him?" Oz scrunched his brow, still not sure why they were here.
"Killing him?" Neria displayed a flash of uncertainty before hiding herself behind her usual mask of confident detachment. "Why that takes no skill at all. Let's just say that I'm a very sore loser and will do what it takes to win."
She pulled any wrinkles out of her shirt and slowly moved to stand by her charge. "Don't worry about old William here, he entered into this contest freely, even if he may not remember doing so. Some ships take a little extra effort to get them turned onto the right course."
Oz shrugged his shoulder, knowing that there was nothing he could to do help the vampire and not sure if he should anyway. When he left Sunnydale, Spike was one of the bad guys, someone he had held a crossbow against. The good guys didn't help the bad guys especially when the good guy had his own trouble to deal with at the moment. Not to mention Oz was sure his own classification as a "good guy" was in doubt.
Neria shook her head, almost able to hear his thoughts. "Look, we can talk about Spike later. We have more interesting things to do tonight." She lightly touched his shoulder and they were transported to Buffy's house.
Standing just inside the door, they could easily see what was going on around them. that is, if there had been anything going on. It was very quiet, still, everyone in their separate corners. Dawn was sitting at the dining table, working on homework, music blaring through headphones. "Do you remember her?" Neria asked cautiously.
"Dawn? Buffy's sister?"
Neria smiled and clapped him on the back. "Just checkin'." Those monks deserved a commendation.
They both turned quickly when the door behind them opened and Xander and Buffy both walked in. Xander had changed. No longer the lanky, uncomfortable teenager, broad shoulders and conservatively dressed but not in a bad way. Oz noted that Buffy looked the same since Oz had seen her last. She was dressed as fashionable as ever yet comfortable incase of trouble. She also seemed older, adult, and Oz wondered, yet again, what he had missed.
Neria seemed to take an interest in Xander, her eyes giving him more than the once over, "Yum, yum, yum."
She followed close behind Buffy and Xander as they moved into the living room. Oz wasn't paying much attention to what they were talking about, taking stock of the changes to the furnishings and trying not to get too annoyed with Neria's interest in Xander.
She swiftly darted in front of Xander and lightly placed a hand on his chest; he shivered a bit but didn't seem to notice. "Oooh. and a potential client."
That snapped Oz's attention back to what was happening, Neria was giving him her patented wicked smile that broadcasted trouble. Moving faster than any human had any right to, he grabbed her forearm and moved them away from the couple.
"Stay away from Xander," he growled through clenched teeth, emotion rolling off of him in waves. Neria cocked her head to one side as she let Oz drag her across the room. She could have stopped him if she wanted to but was more interested in watching Oz reaction.
"Why do you care what I do with Xander?"
Oz balled his fists in frustration, the beast was rattling against the cage. "He's my friend and I won't watch you hurt him."
"But it will be okay to hurt him once you get back to your magic carpet ride and you won't have to see it? Are those the rules?" Neria challenged him, poking him in the chest. She liked this new side to Oz and closed the gap between them, whispering, "Will he be fair game then?"
"No." Oz held his ground but some of the intensity was starting to drain away.
"Why do you care now? You weren't there for Xander's disastrous non- wedding day, or when Joyce died, or even when Buffy died. Don't you think your friend might have needed you in the last three years?"
Grinding his teeth and looking away, he didn't have an answer for her.
"Buffy died?" Part of what she had said clicked in Oz's head, his eyes darting to locate her in the room. She looked real enough.
"Well, this is Sunnydale. They really should just rename it 'Enterprise' but I'm sure there would be some kind of copyright issue with that."
"How?"
"A god from another dimension, a small 'g' god, wanted to go home. It used Dawn as a doorknocker, and didn't care if this world was destroyed in the process. Yet another one of those slightly apocalyptic Sunnydale moments."
"No, how did she come back?"
Neria smiled, happy to answer that question. "Here, let me show you." She said and bounded up the stairs with the glee of a child who couldn't contain the excitement of surprising you with a giant present.
Oz glanced back to Xander and Buffy and only let his eyes follow Neria to the second floor. He knew that it would be a big mistake to see what was up there but if tonight's pattern held true, he wouldn't have much choice in the matter.
End of Part Two