Chapter Four: Land of Confusion
The large, black convertible pulls up to the dingy curb. Angel continues to shoot scathing glares at the tiny blonde sitting in the passenger seat. It was a glare he had been hitting her with ever since he found out she brought Spike to Los Angeles knowing the younger vampire would still be able to hurt him.
"What?" Buffy demands as Angel turns the car off. The looks Angel was giving her along with the silent treatment was becoming just a little tiresome.
Angel pops open the driver side door and slams it close behind him. "What?" He asks back standing by the door.
"You," Buffy replies, "acting like a five year old because someone kicked sand in your face."
"What did you expect?" He asks as Buffy hops out of his car while he walks around the front. "Me to be all happy about Spike being in town. Last time he was here he had me tortured for a good ten hours."
"He's got a chip in his head that stops him from hurting humans," she explains patiently.
"Isn't going to stop him from taking a swing at me," he complains.
Buffy sighs slightly with a small shake of her head. "Did you really think that I wouldn't think of that?" She inquires in a huff causing him to glance at her questionably. "When I paid Spike to drive me up here I specified for him not to attack you. He said he'd stay as far away from you as possible."
"And you trust him?"
She gives Angel a small shrug, "he usually keeps his end of the deal." Angel looks at her skeptically, "all right. As long as he feels like keeping them, but since you're paying him now you can set the terms."
"What terms? As soon as we meet up with Cordy and Wes, Spike is on his way," Angel replies irritably.
The turn the corner into the alley and come to a stop seeing two humanoid looking demons dead just inside the mouth of the alley. "You sure about that?" She asks appreciative of Spike's handiwork.
Angel stares at the bodies for another few seconds before saying in a completely unconvincing voice, "I'm sure Wes took one of them."
"Right," Buffy breathes out slowly as she gives the two large bodies another look. "Broken necks good indication neither one of them suffered from Wesley boring them to death."
Cordelia sighs loudly as Spike begins another song by someone named Ramone, or something like it, to a huge round of applause from the audience. She could just about strangle the Host for ever coming around and asking if any of them wanted to try their voice at singing a little karaoke. It wasn't that Spike had bad voice, in fact she thought he had a extremely good one when she could understand the words which wasn't very often when he was singing songs like; I Wanna Be Sedated, Pinhead, Blitzkrieg Bop, Beat the Brat, The KKK Took My Baby Away, and We're A Happy Family.
Of course she would also love to strangle Buffy for ever suggesting they bring Spike along for their protection. As it turns out Caritas is protected from violence by some kind of magic shield. Inside of which no demon can harm anyone. She didn't understand it completely, but so long as it works she didn't really care.
Spike, however, like he normally did, found a way around that one as well after one patron began heckling the highly inebriated vampire. He had simple dragged the demon in question outside. It wasn't like he was being violent. At least not while he was inside the club. Once he got into the back alley the young woman could only imagine what had taken place.
Then there had been the demon that had gotten up on stage during his absence. Spike hadn't been pleased discovering that and soon a second demon was joining the first and neither of them had been seen since. After that point nobody said anything to Spike about hogging the mic, not even the Host who seems to be constantly wiping his eyes for some reason.
What Cordelia didn't understand was why all the other demons didn't follow Spike outside and stake him. Or drag him out like he did with the other two. It couldn't be because they were afraid of the vampire. As vampires went she could think of a few she found more terrifying.
Drusilla, Angelus, The Master they would all rank up there in the terrifying factor. Spike was more the straight ahead I'm going to kill you type. The scariest part about that was he usually did.
"How much longer before the wonder twins get here?" She asks Wesley who is still glancing around the bar nervously.
Wesley blinks slightly as her sudden question surprises him out of whatever he was thinking about. "Oh... Um, I imagine they should be showing up any moment now. Angel sounded quite harried about something the last time I talked to him. He wouldn't say what it was."
"Couldn't have anything to do boy wonder up there?" Wesley gives the young woman a questioning look and Cordelia fills him on what happened the last time Spike and Angel had a run in with each other. "Spike was in town a few months ago. Captured Angel, tortured him for the ring of Amara and came up empty. I doubt if he was a very happy camper when he left, and Angel was about as grumpy as I've ever seen him, except for that whole Angelus phase he went through a couple years ago."
A round of loud applause begin as Spike comes to the end of his latest song. Cordelia expects him to go off into another thrashing punk rock song, but instead he sits down on the stool looking sad, morose. His head drooping slightly and his shoulders slumping downwards. It was not a pose she was use to seeing on Spike.
Slowly he raises the microphone up to his mouth. "None of you blokes are gonna believe this. Think old Spike is here trying to pull the wool over your eyes, though why I'd do that instead of just ripping them out of your skulls is beyond me," he stops lifting his bottle of Southern Comfort to his lips taking a long pull.
With the amount of alcohol the vampire had drank Cordelia wouldn't have thought him capable of doing even the simplest things let alone forming complex sentences.
He looks back up smiling that cocky, arrogant smirk he usually has when he sees something no one else does. "I almost got myself hitched," he tells the crowd to a smattering of jeers and catcalls. Suddenly he storms back to his feet knocking the stool over, his face a thunderstorm of anger as he points a hard finger into the crowd. "Hey I'm telling a bloody story here, a soddin tragedy like none of you's have ever heard before so the lot of you shove off."
Cordelia lowers her head slightly. This was just what she needed to make her night complete. Spike telling stories of his lost love Drusilla.
Prowling the edge of the stage menacingly he watches the crowd just waiting for somebody to say anything. After a few tense moments his anger seems to lesson as his body loosen up. He still walks back and forth across the stage, only now there was a slight bounce in his step.
"It was the most magical night of my life. It was like a spell had fallen over us. She was a brilliant light sent down to burn me to ashes, but for her softest kiss I would risk all for the briefest taste of her heavenly flavor. And me, I'm suppose to be death to her kind. Made my name killing others like her, draining them dry as any desert, but never did I consider tasting her sweet nectar," he smirks lightly as he adds as an after thought, "well not her blood anyway."
Cordelia perks up while Spike is speaking. This wasn't what she had been expecting from him. She had thought he was going to go into some gruesome story where him and Drusilla had eviscerated half a dozen people. With a quick glance at Wesley she notices that he too is caught up in Spikes narration.
"We had the entire occasion planned out. Flowers, caterers, decorators, the bloody chapel, were the pictures were going to be taken. Every little detail right down to what our first song was going to be," he finishes and almost on cue the music begins.
Cordelia recognizes the opening strains being played and unless Drusilla was crazier then she thought Spike was definitely talking about somebody else. Her mind begins working on who the vampire could have been talking about. Someone he had made his name on killing. Someone who was suppose to kill him. Suddenly her eyes light up as it all falls into place. "Buffy," she whispers quietly.
It was loud enough for Wesley to hear her but just then Spike crystal clear voice rose up and there was no time for talking as the club went deathly quite.
Ohhhh, oh, oh, oh, ohhh.
It must have been cold there in my shadow,
to never have sunlight on your face.
You were content to let me shine, that's your way.
You always walked a step behind.
So I was the one with all the glory,
while you were the one with all the strain.
A beautiful face without a name for so long.
A beautiful smile to hide the pain.
Buffy slows as she walks down the stairs into Caritas. She manages to wipe the rising horror off her face as the lyrics Spike is singing click in her head. The sound of his clear tenor had almost abolished the memory of what this particular song represents.
"That almost sounds like Spike," Angel mutters in confusion between steps. "Wonder what song that is? It doesn't sound like anything Spike would listen to."
"Wind Beneath My Wings," Buffy answers absently just before she adds, "it was suppose to be our first dance."
Angel gives her questioning look as he asks, "How'd he find out you wanted it for our first dance?"
Buffy's cheeks color brightly as she brushes past him without saying a word. She steps through the metal detector, which goes off with a quiet alarm that can't be heard by the patrons inside the club over the noise. A round steel pipe appears, almost out of thin air, right in front of her halting her progress.
"Sorry mam," Ka'rl; the tall, thick bodied, orange scaled demon holding the metal bar says to Buffy.
Angel winces as he asks, "you didn't just call her mam?"
Ka'rl ignores Angel's remark as he continues. "I'm afraid I'm gonna have to ask you to empty out you purse and your pockets. We have a strict no weapons policy inside Caritas."
"You don't recognize me do you?" Buffy inquires with a bit of relief and annoyance.
He shakes his head slightly, though for him it was more like a whole torso shake, "can't say as I do mam."
"It's because I work out of Sunnydale and I don't get up to L A that often. See I'm Buffy the vampire slayer," she tells Ka'rl modestly
His face seems to crack into a smile, she thought it was a smile anyway, as he responds with, "sorry cupcake. Slayer was already in here. Her and some short runt about your size. Cut my pipe in half with..."
Buffy grabs his thick arm with one hand jerking him forward, then latches on to his throat with her other hand and slams his back up against the wall. "I am Buffy. I am the vampire slayer. My favorite hobbies include; hanging out with my friends, shopping, and ripping the heads off demons that annoy me. Since the first two options aren't viable choices here what say we skip right to number three?"
"Viable?" Angel questions from just beyond her shoulder.
"SAT word," she answers Angel while keeping her eyes on Ka'rl.
"All right, fine. You're the slayer," he grumbles really hating the fact that his cousin had asked him to cover his shift tonight. The runt with the cowboy hat had been bad enough, but if it was possible he thought the blonde in front of him was worse yet. At least the guy didn't make lame jokes. "You can go in already," he urges hoping she'd let go of his throat.
"Not quite," Angel says stepping around Buffy. "This other slayer and the runt, what'd they want here?"
"I just work the door. You wanna know what goes on inside you gotta go talk to the host," Ka'rl tells Angel.
Buffy applies a little more pressure to his throat a moment before she demands, "the Host?"
"Lorne, green skin demon with a couple horns in his forehead. He's the one with the fruity concoction and the loud suit. You can't miss him."
"Thanks," Buffy responds letting go of his neck. Shooting him one last contemptuous glance she follows Angel into the club.
Just as she steps inside the song Spike was singing comes to stop and the bleach blonde vampire takes no time picking Buffy out. "Well there's the little would be missus," he slurs as he points at her. "that's the cruel bint who crushed my heart under her uncaring heel of her boot. That's my Slayer," he says with pride.
The crowd of Caritas had found Spike's heartfelt rendition of Wind Beneath My Wings to be so moving that at first they had been murmuring disdainfully, angrily as they gaze at Buffy. Then Spike said that one word which normally sends fear racing through the heart of any demon, especially when their stuck inside a demon violence free zone.
Slayer.
Their faces turn to a look of pure panic as chairs quickly scrape back. Liquor flies everywhere as tables are heaved aside. The demons make a hasty stampede as they rush the door and somehow manage to cram through without too much trouble.
Buffy sees the on rushing demons and scrunches herself up as they race past giving her a wide berth. Angel quickly jumps on to the bar as the demons stream by. Lorne stares with wide eyes at the mass exodus taking place in his bar. Spike, the cause of the stampede, was drunkenly trying to figure out where everyone was going in such a hurry.
"Bloody gits," Spike's voice booms through the room as he shouts into the microphone as the last demon rushes out the exit. "I'll scope your sodden intestines out with a dull spoon. The entire bleeding lot of yous," he adds tossing the microphone away for the last part as he attempts to jump of the stage, but instead winds up tripping on the raised lip and landing unceremoniously on his face.
Cordelia pokes her head out from the table her and Wesley had ducked under when the spooked demons broke and ran. "Is it over?" She hesitates to ask, but then adds with a bit more confidence, "or should I hide some more?"
"I'm pretty sure that its over," Angel answers hopping down from the bar. A small smile creasing his lips as he watches Spike pick himself up from the floor.
Cordelia rises to her feet with an indignant sounding, "good," as she strides towards Buffy.
A moment later Wesley crawls out saying, "yes. We're quite all right. No need for anybody to be concerned in the least. I had everything well in hand."
"Really?" Lorne begins in a questioning tone.
Before he can go any further Cordelia stops in front of the tiny slayer. "And you said he would be able to protect us," she says pointing an accusing finger at Spike.
"And he did. We saw the two demons outside," Buffy replies informing the tall brunette that they had seen the evidence of Spike's handiwork. "Unless you're going to try telling me you killed them?"
"He dragged them out of here," Cordelia tells her. After a moment she adds, "because they didn't like his singing."
"No great loss princess," Lorne comments as he raises his drink to his mouth. "Terrible hecklers, the pair of them," he adds taking a sip. "Place would be much better off without them. You know, if there were still customer's left to be entertained." Turning his attention to Angel he plaintively inquires, "what did you think you were doing bringing a slayer into a demon bar? And you," he starts turning towards Spike, "what were you thinking announcing it? At least the other lunatic had the sense to keep it to himself."
"Speaking of that other lunatic," Angel remarks taking a menacing step forward.
Lorne takes another sip of his colorful drink totally unconcerned by Angel's threatening posture. "The premises and the people on them are protected from the violence our kind causes sugar cube," he says confidently.
Angel smiles as he says, "violence our kind causes. Wouldn't effect a slayer," he says with mild warning. "Or I could just follow Spike's example."
Lorne sighs as he responds by saying, "let me guess. You want to know where they were going, how they were getting there, and what they had to drink while the were here?"
"Pretty much," Angel replies.
"Then that means you have to do something for me," Lorne answers. "Or you can lope my head off and I still won't say a word."
"What?" Buffy asks wanting to get out of here as fast as possible. Faith was still out there, somewhere and this man she was hooked up with didn't seem like the most calming influence on the rogue slayer.
"All of you up on the stage for one song," he answers almost glowing at the prospect.
"I'm gonna be sick," Spike mumbles from in front of the stage a moment before he retches violently on the floor the stands wobbly to his feet with a smirk just prior to collapsing to the floor.
"Okay. No stage and he doesn't have to sing," Lorne quickly amends.
Cordelia glances at Spike on the floor then back to Buffy asking the slayer, "you were really going to marry Spike?"
The one thing that Faith knew above anything else at this moment was that she was extremely irritated at constantly waking up in unfamiliar surroundings. This was the fourth time in the last few weeks that she was waking up with no clue were she was. First there had been the hospital, then Beef stick's dorm room, Kitty's freaky loft, and finally here.
Out of all of them the hospital had been the worst so far. The disorientation she had felt after eight months in a coma was beyond belief. She had felt like a scared little girl; lost, alone, trapped. She hadn't felt like that since she had ran away from home the last time. Ran from the brutality that had been her life up until that point.
Ran from Douglas.
After waking up she could feel time ticking away from her. Could feel the sand slipping through her fingers. Add to that the dreams, nightmares, she had been living with every single moment of the eight months she had lain in the coma. It wasn't any wonder why the first thing she had done was go after a little payback.
Right now her body hurt like nothing she's ever felt before. Faith didn't think there was a part of her body that wasn't screaming out in agony at the moment, but it was hard to tell with how much everything aches.
She feels a cold, wet piece of cloth placed on her forehead. Snapping her eyes open she looks up into a lean, mostly oval face of a large doe-eyed young woman with long stringy brown hair cascading around her shoulders. Her eyes like her hair were a light almost chestnut brown and covered by large pair of wire frame glasses.
"Hey there," Fred says when she sees Faith's dark brown eyes staring up at her. "Didn't expect you to wake up so soon... Course," she gives her thin shoulders a slight shrug, "didn't really expect you to be alive either. Not after a fall old rock face there." She dips the strip of torn cloth into the semi dirty water, then wrings it out. "You're healing real quick too, might even be able to travel by tomorrow." Her lips curve in to a light frown as she washes Faith's chin and neck. "How do you suppose that is. Most people that survive a fall like that need a half a year or more convalescing in a hospital, but you..."
"Slayer," Faith manages to murmur just loud enough to stop Fred in her verbal tracks.
The light haired brunette blinks at the word. "Is that suppose to be code for something, cause if it is I've never heard of it before. Not that I would have being stuck on Pylea for one thousand three hundred and seventy-seven days. Give or take half a..."
"Vampire slayer," Faith growls softly.
"Vampires are real?" Fred asks Faith who barely manages a slight nod. "I never would've... I mean I should've after all I never really, really thought there were other dimensions, worlds similar to our own. I'd hoped, dreamed... The statistical probability that human life could exist elsewhere outside of Earth, its staggering, but until I wound up here it all just seemed kind of far fetched if you know what I mean," she rushes on hurriedly. Looking down at Faith she smiles reassuringly. "It's kind of like something out of a comic book, or a science fiction movie..."
Faith allows her eyes to slip close fractionally and just lets the words wash over her. It had been a long time since she had heard a genuinely happy voice. Logan's had been gruff, almost angry sounding most of the time. She was determined to enjoy this while it lasts, because she already knows it wasn't going to last forever.
"For what reason has the alarm been raised?" Silas demands as he storms into the vast hall.
Barshon turns around to face his superior, worry clearly evident in his posture. "A cow has appeared in the middle of the village."
"So," Silas scoffs. "Cows always appear in the village. It is hardly cause for alarm."
"This one resist," Barshon informs Silas.
"Don't they all?"
"This one is winning," the red robe underling replies softly.
"What!" Silas exclaims in shock.
"He fights with the skill of are best warriors and the ferocity of a Drokken. The villages best warriors have already fallen before this undying cow. He doesn't seem to know how to kill them, but it is only a matter of time before he learns."
Silas pauses for a moment considering Barshon's words. "You called him undying. Why?"
"The village warriors have scored a score of hits, what would be mortal injuries for any other cow, yet he heals in only moments," Barshon replies.
Silas nods as he says, "send out Groosalug then gather the rest of the Covenant in the inner sanctum."
Logan deflects the sword thrust, sparks flaring as super dense adamatium strikes enchanted blades. He grins maniacally at the demon wielding the blade. A moment later his adamatium plated skull smashes into the demon's face causing him to stagger backwards. He figures their blades must have some kind of mystical enchantments on them since his claws didn't cut them to shreds, plus their industrial capabilities didn't appear to be advance enough to make anything of comparable strength to adamatium.
Normally he didn't like sticking his nose into other cultures politics or practices, but he really didn't like slavery either. Especially not when they tried to put a collar around his neck. Since most of the slaves happen to be residents of Earth, even if they are several generations removed, he figures today was as good a day as any to start a one mutant revolution.
It had been a long time since he's been able to cut loose like this. Even his fight with Faith he had been keeping a tight reign on himself.
Now that leash was gone. It was the first time in years and he was loving every single minute of it. Given a little time he would even figure out how to put these demons down for good. As it was he was still trimming their numbers down at a good clip. A third of them had already crawled away from the battle to injured to continue with the fast pace brawl.
In the back of his head he wonders if Faith is having as much fun as him. He suspects the raven hair beauty would enjoy this kind of scrape as much as he is. He hopes she's okay, he believes she is. If nothing else can be said about the girl she was a survivor.
What was weighing on his mind more then anything else at the moment though was his concern for Kitty's safety. The old man wonders at that. Logan knows Kitty is more then capable of taking care of herself, has probably already figured a way out of here by now and is back on Earth enjoying a cold brew, or the red wine she prefers when she feels like drinking, and laughing at his attempted rescue of her.
Logan scowls at the emotions he's feeling right now. The look on his face enough to cause the demon in front of him to freeze momentarily, enough time for Logan's claws to rip through his chest.
He had known Kitty for nearly half the girl's life. Most of that time they were teammates with the X-Men, fighting side by side to protect the world from the threat of the day. He could easily be ten times her senior.
When she had first joined the X-Men he had seen her as nothing more then a spoiled brat, but she had proven him wrong. Over the years she had become something of a disciple of his. He watched her grow into the season warrior she is today. In a lot of ways she had already surpassed him. It was what every teacher hopes for their students to do. She was a true warrior while he was still nothing more then a methodical killing machine.
A sword shatters on the back of his skull driving him to the ground. For an instant, while he springs back to his feet, he feels wet blood soak his scalp before the wound begins knitting itself back together.
Growling low in his chest, more at himself for allowing his thoughts to distract from the heat of battle, then at the demon. Logan whirls at his stunned adversary staring at the shattered blade in his hands.
Kitty wonders through the camp. Her movement almost looking aimless to her watchers. She had spent most of her time talking with the people. Getting a feel for their disposition. She had learnt that most had been born here on Pylea while less then a quarter of them had fallen through portals from Earth and a few other worlds.
Most of them, if given a chance to return home, or anyplace that wasn't here would jump at it. Or so they claimed while nothing had to be proven.
Now all she had to do was decide what she was going to do for them. She couldn't leave them here if they want off the planet. But how could she bring them to Earth. She couldn't just leave them to fend for themselves once they got there.
Earth didn't even openly acknowledge the other races that live in the same solar system. What would the reaction be to a group of displaced humans that had been living in a different dimension.
"Let me see that," Kitty says as she squats down in front of a small child, a thin gash running the length of his forearm, cutting him off. The thin stream of blood leaking from the wound wasn't dark red like normal human blood. It was more of light pinkish gray color.
The boy looks up at Kitty, his incandescent blue eyes full of irritation as he says, "why?" The game was going to continue and if he wasn't there then somebody else was going to get his spot on the team. Most of the other kids didn't like him that much, plus he didn't get the chance to play all that often since he was training most of the time so he didn't want to miss his chance.
"Because if we don't get this cleaned out it might get infected and not heal properly," she explains to the young preteen.
He looks up at her as if she had lost her mind, but then he realizes she was the new girl in the camp. "It's gonna heal in a couple hours anyway," he tells her. "None of my cuts ever get inf... Inf," he scowls angrily as he can't pronounce the word.
"Infected," she says enunciating each syllable.
"Infected," he mimics triumphantly.
Kitty smiles at the boys victorious grin, "better to be safe then sorry," she says. "I'm Kitty," she tells him as she leads him towards a pot of water set near a warming fire to keep it from cooling.
He looks back over his shoulder dejectedly as he says, "Scott."
"It's nice to meet you Scott," she says sitting him down on a rickety stool by the kettle. "I bet you're a really special young man," Kitty adds hoping to get him talking.
He shrugs lightly as he responds by saying, "that's what everyone says. That I'm going to be the strongest warrior in all of Pylea. Stronger then Groosalug even," he adds making it sound like a great accomplishment.
"That must be pretty strong," Kitty comments as she dips a clean cloth in the water.
"Don't you know anything," he demands irritably.
Kitty smiles pleasantly at him as she answers, "I'm new here." He looks up at her, still irritated but also slightly abashed as well. "How do you know you're going to be such a strong warrior. I thought they had to train for hours every single day?"
He looks down at the ground in shame as he mumbles, "its because my father is one of them."
Kitty's smile slips off her face as her temperament falls. The boy had been raised to feel ashamed of who he is. Nearly as bad, if not worse was that he was being raised as a weapon while he was still nothing more then a child. She had seen the results of that tactic more then once. As far as she was concerned there was nothing that could ever justify the action. No matter what could be gained the price wasn't worth paying if it meant sacrificing a child's innocent.
"Hey," she says lifting his chin up to look at her. "You have nothing to be ashamed of. You're different then other people, but you want to know a secret?" She asks softly to which he nods his head. "Everybody is different from everyone else yet everyone is exactly the same to." Again he looks at her like she's lost her mind. She can't help but smile at the boy. "Out here," she says running her fingers through her hair and her exposed skin, "everyone is different. The way we look, the color of our skin, hair, eyes. We're all different, but inside," she adds poking him in the chest, "we're all the same. We have lungs, and a heart. We all have a brain."
He shakes his head slightly, "your heart is here," he says poking her in the chest, "while mine is here," he finishes poking himself in the butt.
"You have a heart. That's all that matters," she tells him. "Besides your not the only special one here," she says picking a rock up from the ground. Holding her palm up with the stone sitting in the middle she phases her hand letting the rock fall through her palm to the ground below.
Scott's eyes go wide as he looks up at her. "How?" He breathes out softly as he picks his hand up extending his finger. Poking her in the hand his finger comes in contact with her palm the first couple times before she phases again allowing his finger to slide through the molecules of her hand.
"I guess I'm special too," she answers with a broad grin.
The black convertible sits at the intersection of the next local hotspot. Inside it five people contemplate the journey ahead of them. While one sleeps blissfully unaware of what is about to happen.
"I still don't see why I have to come along," Lorne complains from the back seat of Angel's convertible sandwiched between Wesley and Cordelia. It wasn't like he was going to be that big of a help in Pylea. He wasn't a warrior like the two vampires and the slayer. Even the watcher was probably a better fight then he was.
"I don't see why we have to bring him along," Angel mutters with a jerk of his head towards the back of the car.
"Finally," Lorne remarks with a huge sigh as he pops up. "Somebody who sees things my way." Cordelia grabs one arm while Wesley grabs the other and together they pull Lorne back down. Lorne looks at the two of them in despair as he grumbles, "but he just said..."
"I can pretty much guarantee that Angel wasn't referring to you," Wesley informs the demon.
Lorne glances over his shoulder at the trunk with a despondent, "oh," escaping his lips.
"Well what're we suppose to do with him?" Buffy demands petulantly.
A sadistically happy grin spreads its way over Angel's face. "Leaving him in a alley with an amazing view of the sun as it breaks over the eastern horizon sounds like a viable option."
"Then how am I going to get back home?"
"I'd be more then willing to drive you," Angel offer graciously.
"Just what I want," Buffy mutters softly, "my new boyfriend meeting my old boyfriend."
Angel glances disgruntle at Buffy as he asks, "why'd Spike drive you if you have a boyfriend?"
Buffy scowls, angry with herself for bringing Riley up in the first place. It still doesn't stop from blurting out, "because we're not talking right now!"
"The sign of a lasting relationship," Angel murmurs.
"Hey! I got every right to be upset with him, he's the one that slept with Faith... Doesn't matter that she was in my body at the time. He should've been able to tell it wasn't me." Turning around to face the back seat she grills them asking, "I don't act like Faith?"
"Well," Wesley begins sputtering as he tries to push himself even further into the leather seat.
"You seem pretty nutty to me," Cordelia tells her. Buffy glares silently at the brunette. "You still don't have a little bit of Faith inside do you?"
Silence reigns in the vehicle as the two strong willed women scowl at each other. "Have I mentioned I'm a wanted criminal back on Pylea?" Lorne inquires trying to get the conversation moving back along.
Intrigued by the statement Wesley asks, "how'd that come about?"
Lorne shrugs, "I left."
Buffy whirls back around finding no support in the back seat. With a slight huff she flips on the radio and slumps down in the seat. Bracing her feet on the dashboard she begins humming softly to herself.
Lorne watches intently as the tiny girl begins to hum. None of the group had been cooperating when it came to his request at Caritas so this was the first chance he was getting to read a member of the group. Aside from Spike, but that boy's future was wrapped up in equal amounts of love and misery that it wasn't funny.
Buffy was set to have a very eventful life. Her future held so much, more then anybody he had ever read before. She was going to face trails, be tested like no one ever before. Her destiny was filled with as much lost as the vampire's, but through the worst of it she would be supported by a love so pure it was nearly blinding.
He sniffles quietly as he pulls a handkerchief from his pocket and dabs at his eyes wiping away the tears. "Are you all right?" Cordelia asks the host concern for his well being bubbling to the surface.
Lorne nods his head slightly as he says, "just the thought of going back home and seeing the family for the first time in ages."
"And you're crying because you're so happy to be seeing them all again," she finishes in understanding.
Lorne shoots her a look of horror, "are you insane pudding. More like terrified out off my emerald colored skin at the thought of what their going to do me."
"Don't worry," Angel tells him. "We'll make sure nothing happens to you," he says with confidence. "All right Wesley. Lets get this show on the road. Whatever those two are trying to get their hands on over in Pylea we got put a stop to before they can bring it back here."
The professor had been terrified of that coming to pass. He hadn't known very many details but what he did know frightened the old man nearly senseless. Seidel had said the only reason they had left him alive was so that he could suffer more waiting for them to return.
Wesley opens the book bringing it to the proper page. "Krv Drpglr pwlz chkwrt strplmt dwghzn prqlrzn lffrmtplzt!"
By the time he finishes reading blue energy swirls in front of the car. With a hoarse shout Angel presses down on the accelerator causing the car to jump forward. They plunge ahead, into the blue mass that dominates their field of vision. As it closes the book Wesley had been holding falls to the black pavement, spinning slightly before toppling to the ground.
Groosalug walks through the town. A disquiet expression marring his otherwise sculpted features. He had been told a pitch battle was raging inside the village. That the towns warriors were in desperate need of his help.
Only the town was quiet. Far, far quieter then it normally was.
Reaching the center of town he finds the reason why. The village warriors, most of who were severely wounded, were forming a defensive ring around one lone human. A large, oddly shaped, tan hat sat atop his head and he held a mug of mead in one hand. A dark smoldering brand hung from between his lips as a cloud of smoke billows up around his head.
His pants were torn and bloody. If he had worn a shirt it was gone now exposing a vast array of hard, pack muscles- along with an excessive amount of hair- covering his torso. He sniffs the air then without turning around saying, "think your champion's here."
A bunch of the warriors turn towards him in surprise before clamoring for him to vanquish this mad cow. "I have never been defeated," he says confidently reminding the towns people of his ever victorious reputation plus informing the human that now he isn't facing a mob of armed villagers but a trained and seasoned warrior.
"First time for everything bub," Logan replies. Tilting back the mug of hard mead he polishes off the drink. "Not bad," he continues tossing the mug back to one of the warriors. If it wasn't for the whole slavery issue the feisty mutant thought he could have gotten along with the warrior race. "Little on the watery side, but not bad over all."
Turning around he finally faces Groosalug. "If you surrender now the priest will kill you quickly," the champion of Pylea tells Logan.
"Let's not have them do me any favors," Logan quips lightly.
"It will not go easy for you if you continue to resist."
"Never done anything easy in my life boy. Ain't about to start now," he tells Groosalug. Logan takes a final drag from his cigar before dropping it to the ground and crushing it out underneath his boot. Taking the hat off his head he tosses it onto one of the demon's head. "Hold on to that for me bub, I'll be back in a few minutes to collect it."
Groosalug slips his spiked mace and axe from his belt. "I do not think so," he remarks confidently. "I am Groosalug."
Like always the sound of steel sliding against steel fills the air as Logan's claws spring from the back of his hands. "You can call me Wolverine."
With that the two warriors engage each other at blurring speed. Logan barely deflecting the descending axe, Groosalug whirling away from the claws slicing through the air. Logan ducks under the mace meant to cave in his skull. Groosalug leaping behind Logan as his claws slice the air where his legs use to be. Logan back flips over the axe as Groosalug spins around.
Logan lands facing his blue eye opponent.
Then the two begin exchanging another series of vicious high speed strikes with every intention of spilling the other's life out into the dusty streets.
"They've engaged in combat," the red robe priest informs Silas as he steps gracefully down the steps into the dark chambers.
"Very good," Silas murmurs. "Take your place," he adds with a sweeping gesture.
As Barshon fills the void among his brethren all light in the room vanishes. A moment later eleven candles; three each of red, blue, and black as well as two yellow spring to life. Their flames shooting a foot and a half into the air.
The priest take up a soft chant that slowly begins to rise in volume as the tempo increases. A harsh wind swirls around the room. The candle flames begin to flicker before whirling into tornado like funnels.
Groosalug's hand felt like it had broken hitting the short human's jaw. A moment later he grabs his hand as the claws slash towards his stomach. Logan slams his forehead into Groosalug's face but the warrior doesn't release his grip. Instead he slams his knee into Logan's ribs driving the air from his lungs.
The small mutant could feel something wrong. Odors were fading, his vision wasn't as sharp as it normally was. Groosalug's punches were taking longer to recover from.
He knew the signs well enough to know exactly what was happening to him. Someone out there was giving this punk a hand. Logan didn't think the kid had any idea it was going on. The boy seems far too honorable for that.
Redoubling his efforts he spins, his foot crashing into Groosalug's ribs. There was barely anything behind the kick. The strong punch slams into the back of his head sending him to the ground.
He's back on his feet in an instant. Groosalug jumps back allowing Logan's claws to harmlessly sweep through the air where he had been before moving back in quickly. A solid kick to Logan's chest sends him to the ground again. Rolling to his feet Logan growls savagely as Groosalug fist spins him around.
Logan uses the momentum to spin full circle slashing at Groosalug who grabs hold of his forearm. The champion of Pylea continues on with the spin bringing Logan up and over slamming him face first into the ground with bone crushing force stunning the small man.
________________________________________________________________________
Land of Confusion - Genisis
I must've dreamed a thousand dreams
Been haunted by a million screams
But I can hear the marching feet
They're moving into the street.
Now did you read the news today
They say the danger's gone away
But I can see the fire's still alight
There burning into the night.
There's too many men
Too many people
Making too many problems
And not much love to go round
Can't you see
This is a land of confusion.
This is the world we live in
And these are the hands we're given
Use them and let's start trying
To make it a place worth living in.
Ooh Superman where are you now
When everything's gone wrong somehow
The men of steel, the men of power
Are losing control by the hour.
This is the time
This is the place
So we look for the future
But there's not much love to go round
Tell me why, this is a land of confusion.
This is the world we live in
And these are the hands we're given
Use them and let's start trying
To make it a place worth living in.
I remember long ago -
Ooh when the sun was shining
Yes and the stars were bright
All through the night
And the sound of your laughter
As I held you tight
So long ago -
I won't be coming home tonight
My generation will put it right
We're not just making promises
That we know, we'll never keep.
Too many men
There's too many people
Making too many problems
And not much love to go round
Can't you see
This is a land of confusion.
Now this is the world we live in
And these are the hands we're given
Use them and let's start trying
To make it a place worth fighting for.
This is the world we live in
And these are the names we're given
Stand up and let's start showing
Just where our lives are going to.