A/N: And once again, a round of applause to Jen for Beta-ing this. Large
chunks of it has disappeared, you may notice, Jen, and it's all for you.
*grumbles*. It made sense in *my* world. And to all those of you not tuned
into the insanity channel, hey, you're getting there! Right, a few notes of
explanation, cuz I only realised this *after* the writing of fic, and I
have dance class, and my teacher is gonna be sooooo pissed if my hair isn't
scraped back, which leaves me less time to write. Don't ask me why I don't
post after class. My mind don't work like that. Anyhoo, they have returned
to the hotel. Assume that Angel and Cordelia got back, Lorne had brought
Jane back there. It's not important, people!
* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
The lights in the hotel were dark, and as the door swung open, Connor was careful not to let it bang behind him. He moved towards the stairs-
"Connor, come back down now." Angel's low voice carried a threat to it.
At his father's words, the boy backed back into the room. The lights snapped on. Angel's eyes fixed on his son's blue orbs.
"What have you done to yourself?" Cordy gasped, putting a hand to her mouth. The bruises forming across Connor's face, and the blood there made her feel nauseous. Angel normally did the whole, vamp-super-healing thing before he got this gross.
"A few demons didn't like me killing their friend," he replied nonchalantly, shrugging. "I got hit."
"And if you'd been in the hotel, with Jane as asked, you wouldn't be out, getting hit," Angel stated, his jaw stony.
Connor folded his arms.
"I don't have to explain myself to you," he spat defensively.
"No. I agree. You're an adult, right Connor?" the agreeable tone of Angel's voice was off with his movements. He stood, body and shoulders set, and his own arms folded. "An adult. Old enough to know what he's doing, what he can accomplish, whether or not he's getting himself killed, or just going into a risky situation, right, Connor?" Connor shifted on the spot uneasily. Angel moved forward.
"An adult is supposed to be responsible. So how come Jane was with Lorne? She's a little kid, her parents are dead, and as far as we knew, she was completely normal. So how come you left her in a demon bar, with only Lorne as protection?" he growled.
"And a hey from the green demon!" Lorne protested, from the couch. Angel glanced at him, and then back to Connor.
"My parents are dead. *I* can take care of myself," Connor muttered.
A muscle jumped in Angel's jaw. He unfolded, and refolded his arms.
"Yes. And you are seventeen years old. There's a difference."
"Technically he's only two years old," Fred added, then covered her mouth with her hand. "Sorry."
* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
Jane shivered, and covered her ears with her hands. Why was Connor all growly to Angel? It made her stomach hurt. It was all her fault. Aunt Es had always said that she made things bad.
Maybe if I go away again, then they'll be better. But then *they* would find me.
She hugged herself tightly, curling tighter into a ball on the step, and one hand crept up to clutch the tag on the chain, zipping it back and forth, restlessly. Zip. Zip. Zip.
Roughly, Connor shoved past her, running up the stairs. She pulled her knees up higher, and bent her head over them, resting her chin.
"Hey sweet cheeks," Lorne said, slipping an arm around the girl's shoulders. She looked up at him miserably, her pale hair falling either side of her tear stained little face.
"Everyone's pretty mad, huh?"
"Yeah, they are. You see, most people don't know about people like me.Jane, do you know what I am?" he looked at her curiously.
She dropped her eyes back to her knees, and moved the tag back and forth once again.
"Jane?" he probed gently.
"You're a demon," she answered finally, her voice muffled by her hands. "Like Uncle Rory, and Aunt Patricia. Daddy said that I wasn't s'posed to stay in the room with them, though, 'cause he said their 'tentions might slip. Would your 'tentions slip, Lorne?" she asked.
He chuckled. "No sweetness. They wouldn't. How'd your Daddy know they were demons?"
"'Cause he was one," Jane answered. "A nice one. Mommy always said he was the best demon in the whole wide world, and the best Daddy too."
" How's about we get you ready for bed, Jane?" he offered, holding out a green hand.
"Okay," she replied, taking it, and picking herself up. "But I get a story."
"Once upon a time, there was a wonderful demon named Lauren of the Deathwok clan.."
She wrinkled her nose.
"Is that you, Lorne?" she asked. He shrugged.
"It might be. Now this demon had impeccable taste in style, music, and cheekbones like marble.."
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"Honey?" Cordelia swung open the door. Jane looked up, from a big book propped up on the quilt. A soft blue lamp was sitting beside her, and her uniform was folded over the back of a chair.
"What's that?" she asked, curious. Jane lifted it up.
"Fred gave it to me. It's about a princess, in a big tower, who everyone loved, but they can't remember her, 'cause she's been away so long. And a Prince called Florizel is gonna go save her," Jane answered eagerly. "It's a good book."
Cordelia smiled, and sat down on the end of the bed.
"That was a book she used to read when she came back from Pylea, where Lorne used to live."
"Nuh uh," Jane shook her head firmly. "Lauren of the Deathwok clan lived in Pylea. He was a wonderful magic demon, who could sing, and make people feel better. He helped Fred get away from the evil people, all on his own!"
"Hmm," Cordelia muttered. "Not the way *I* heard it. " Jane looked at her questioningly.
"But that's okay. Fred was really, really shy when she came back, and she used to read the book over and over imagining Ang..Lauren was her Prince Florizel, because he saved her," she told Jane.
Jane gave a small smile.
"'Night 'night. "
"G'night," Jane yawned sleepily, as Cordy switched out the light.
* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *
"We're nearly there," Starr informed them, shifting the backpack uncomfortably from one shoulder to the other with a sigh. "Another coupla miles, and we'll be there. We'd best crash for the night."
Jess tugged on Gabby's arm, the smaller blonde meekly following, tired.
"C'mon, we can go to sleep soon," she encouraged, her blue eyes still bright. Gabby yawned, setting Faye off. The younger girl yawned so hugely that the sketchpad tucked under one arm crumpled slightly.
"Sleep is good," she mumbled. Starr grinned slightly, swiping at an unruly lock of black hair.
"Yeah. It is. But where we're headed, there's a hotel."
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *
Cordy sat up in bed, fighting for breath. Blurred images of a person, their face cloaked, laughter, smoke, a smell.incense, a feeling of tightness, a stabbing pain in her throat- her hands grabbed at her neck, fumbling for an invisible attacker, trying to loosen the grip of the vision. But there was no attacker, no place, no actual visual of a person they could save, then, as someone turned, blackness.
"Cordy? Cordy!" Angel was shaking her shoulders, his face grim. She blinked, and sighed, dropping back onto the pillows.
"Vision. Strong one."
He stroked her face tenderly. The visions had lightened since Cordy's half demon side had been put in place, but this one was as strong as the visions she had gone through on her birthday.
"Can we help? Where is it?" She shook her head mutely.
"No. No place, no person. Just a vision. And pain." She held him tightly, taking comfort in his presence. He enclosed her, wrapping the quilt around her more warmly.
* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
Jane lay back in the bed, shivering slightly. The stabbing pain in her head, and her neck had gone, but the remembrance of it made her ache. She turned over, huddling under the quilt, snuffled a couple of times, and dropped back into dreamless sleep.
* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
"So, we're deciding what exactly? That since Jane didn't go, ooh creepy demon, when she saw Lorne, we're going to allow her to see us kill things? And allow her out to kill things *with* us?" Cordelia demanded. Angel winced.
"Cor, your voice has risen by about two octaves in pitch."
"Well, I'm so sorry, Mister let's expose eight year olds to huge, deathly danger!" she snapped.
"Cordelia! Calm down! We're not advocating Jane being exposed to stuff that would scare her, just that, we no longer have to watch whatever we say, Lorne can be around without worry, that kind of thing," he replied. She moved to the sink, clattering the frying pan there.
"Is it too much to ask that she possibly have a normal life for a tiny bit?" she pleaded. He frowned.
"Cordelia, this girl appeared in a vision. The last vision you had since then you didn't get anything from. Then, she walks into a demon bar, and tells a 200-pound chirago demon to stop cussing. I fail to see how normal her life can be!"
"Fine. But if she gets hurt, you're going down to the E.R," she warned. She looked over to where the little girl was eating cereal happily at the table. Connor had seated himself nearby, and was forking up eggs, and fried bacon. She turned back to the dishes, but sudden laughter made her turn.
"Connor!" she rebuked the teenager, who was helpless with laughter, as he urged on Jane's blowing bubbles in the milk, so much so that it overflowed onto the table. Jane looked up at her, doe eyed.
"Cordy? Can I go play with Fred now?" she requested politely, a little milk moustache gracing her upper lip. Cordelia fought the urge to grin.
"Little horror! Fine, you can go, just put your bowl in the sink please, and-" she took a napkin, and wiped off the aftermath of the milk. "Now you can go, munchkin."
Jane skipped away, and Connor went back to eating in silence. Cordelia looked at Angel.
"I'm serious. You're the one in the E.R."
* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
Gunn looked up from polishing the axe, to meet two big brown eyes.
"What's up, Pippi?" he asked, rubbing it. She frowned, creasing her forehead.
"I'm Jane," she stated, folding her arms. A small grin appeared on Gunn's face.
"Yeah, I know. I was talking about the hairstyle." He picked up one of the braids.
"It's a braid, not a pippi, Gunn," she sighed, sounding ten years older. He laughed then.
"Guess it's not," he agreed. Silence fell again, as he rubbed the axe again, concentrating on shining the blade.
"What're you doing?" He looked up again.
"Bad, naughty things," he replied awkwardly to her, in an attempt to get her to go away. He didn't know what to do with kids. He'd never been around many of them, and Alanna had been fourteen when they were completely alone. Her eyes lit up.
"Can I play?"
He groaned inwardly.
"No. It's a grown-ups' game."
She stuck out her bottom lip.
"Please?"
"You know I'll have to cut that off," he told her. When could a guy get time alone with his axe? He needed the time, and the axe definitely needed polishing. It wasn't as shiny any more. Didn't give him that little tingle when he picked it up.
"O-kay," she sighed, walking away.
* ~ * ~ * `
"Right. We are *not* going to scare the nice people. We're going to go in, find who we're looking for, and do what they say. Understand?" Starr demanded, hefting the backpack over her shoulders. Gabby and Faye nodded silently. Jess met her eyes, and folded her arms.
"No," she pronounced. Starr bit back a sharp reply.
"What's wrong now?" she asked, tiredly.
"I don't see why we have to be pulled out of our homes, just 'cause our Watchers got blown up in England, and haul ass across the country, so we can go see the Watcher who has control of the Slayer. It's completely pointless. He's not the only Watcher alive," Jess argued. She glared at Starr. "Just 'cause your dumb brother thinks this guy is God's gift to slaying. What does Sullivan know about it? He's not even a girl!"
Starr's lips twitched at that, but she drew in a deep breath. Jessamy had been pushing the limits every day.
"Jessamy, we are here because both Sullivan, and our Watchers thought he was the best person to come to. We were under the Council's training, so we obey what is left of the Council, without getting into serious stuff. Sully *is* a Council operative, but only a minor one, so he couldn't have taken control. You know what Travers was like. I wanted to stop that happening. The only person who has ever had a Slayer with something close to a normal life is this one. A Slayer, Jess. You're a Potential, so the claims on you should be even less. This is the one perfect person to come to, and we're going to stay, and talk to him, find out what we should do, if we should go home."
"We were home," Jess replied defensively.
"No, Jess. We were in England. We're American. All four of us. Five, including Sully. We lived in England for the past four years. I've been there a longer time, but America is home, and I still have a family, somewhere. As soon as I can, I'm ditching the Slayer wannabe gig, and catching the first ride going home. This is the best possible person to say we can," Starr pleaded, her eyes big with hope. "I don't want to die, neither should you. That's why we've crossed the ocean, to get here, and to him. Because this is the only place we can find freedom."
After this impassioned diatribe, Jess opened her mouth to speak, but fell silent, still frowning mutinously, but quietly. Starr glanced around with relief.
"Right. Has anyone else got any problems?" She strode through the front entrance, letting the glass door swing open behind her, admitting the three girls.
A black guy was polishing a large weapon, a thin brunette was drifting into the room, clutching a thick tome, muttering under her breath, a bright green skinned demon, with small red horns, and a loud orange suit was reading a story book with a little girl curled up beside him on a couch, a tall broody-looking man was propped up against a wall, sipping a glass of something dark red, listening to the brunette, and an unshaven man, dressed in a leather jacket was talking quickly to another brunette in distinctly British tones.
"Wrong person," Starr announced hopelessly, turning, and walking straight out, attracting the attention of everyone in the room.
"Hey! Come back!" Angel called. He moved quickly to the doorway. "Who are you?"
The tall woman turned. She was younger than Cordelia, or Fred, in her late teens. Short black locks curled around her neck, and she had large grey eyes, with a look of irritation, and great tiredness. She shifted the bag on her back.
"I'm in the wrong place," she informed him. "I'm looking for Wesley Wyndham Pryce. And this place." she looked around, and lifted an eyebrow. "Well, considering there's a demon over there, I doubt a Watcher of the Council would be here. "
"Actually," Wesley stepped forward. "I am Mr Wyndham Pryce. What is your connection with the Council?"
"Wesley?" Starr's brow furrowed. "Wesley? That you?"
"I don't believe we've been acquainted," Wesley replied, with a frown.
"No," Starr agreed. "You know my brother, Sullivan. Sullivan Reynolds. And I'm Starr." She ushered the three girls back into the room. "And these are Potentials. Meet Jessamy Kendall, Gabriella Hart, and Faye Robins. We've been headed here from a long way away. Sully told me that you were the Watcher of the Slayer, the true Slayer. He said you were collecting Potentials. I thought, you were the only one whose Slayer has survived past her 20th birthday, it would be the perfect place for Gabby, Jess and Faye." She gave him a pleading look. The black man coughed.
"Yeah, it would," he smiled, walking forward. The smile disappeared. "Unfortunately, you *have* got the wrong place. See, the *real* Slayer, the one that's not doing time cuz she killed someone, is over in Sunnydale. With a guy named Giles. Wes here is just the screw up. Fired. And last I heard, he was a rogue demon hunter, in badly fittin' leather pants." He gave the other man a sizing up look. "Who tries to mack on other guy's girls."
"Charles!" the brunette with the book snapped. Starr held up a hand.
"Whoa. Dizzy. Hold up. What do you mean, wrong person?"
Wesley glared at Gunn, but turned, and shrugged.
"I'm afraid, that in part, he is correct. I am a Watcher of the Slayer, but Faith is at present doing penance at the state prison. Mr Rupert Giles, of Sunnydale, is Watcher to Buffy Summers, the elder Slayer I believe you're referring to. I had heard of the Council's ending, and I can put through a call to Giles to get you there, with the other Potentials. Meanwhile, this is a hotel, and Angel, who owns it would possibly let you stay here."
The brunette stood beside the dark-clad man poked him sharply in the ribs.
The vampire stepped forward. "If you want to stay, there are plenty of rooms."
"Thanks," Starr replied gratefully. "It's only eight thirty, but we've been moving since ten this morning. No breaks. Where can I get the girls settled?"
The more rounded brunette stepped forward now, the vampire still rubbing where she had poked him before.
"Hi, I'm Cordelia," she smiled warmly. "You obviously know Wes, tall dark and broody is Angel, Gunn's the one with the axe, and that's Fred. Lorne is over there, with Jane. I'll show you where you guys can crash."
"Starr? I don't think I can remember that many names," Faye whispered. Cordelia smile broadened.
"It's okay. The important name is Cordelia," she informed the girl. "Right, upstairs."
As she led the four along a corridor, she pointed to various doors.
"Angel and I, Jane, Fred, Gunn, and then, up there," she pointed up a darker staircase, that was fairly narrow, 'Is Connor. Angel's son. He's out at the moment, patrolling. So, if we put...what's your name sweetie?" she pointed to Gabby.
"Gabby," the small blonde mumbled, in a tiny voice. Her moss green eyes were looking at the floor, and her wispy bangs fell across her face. Cordelia opened the door. Two twin beds, with a wardrobe, dresser, and mirror.
"If you go in here, with-"
"Jess," Jessamy cut in, throwing her bag onto the bed. She turned to face Cordelia, her thick red hair flying around her shoulders. She lifted her chin, her blue eyes meeting Cordelia's defiantly. "Gabby and I stay together."
"Okay," Cordy nodded. "Suits me. Now, you are?"
"Faye," Starr supplied. Faye clung to Starr's side. Her braid of light brown hair was mussed, and she was blinking rapidly behind her glasses in an attempt to stay awake, but she gripped tightly onto Starr's hand.
"If you go in here, Starr can go next door. See. There's a connecting door," Cordelia pointed out. "Bathrooms join onto every room, so you can all shower, or whatever. Angel will probably sort out dinner. See us downstairs in ten," she instructed, and walked off.
"See? Everything's fine," Starr reassured Faye. "They'll just call Mr Giles, and we'll catch the next bus to Sunnydale. No problem."
* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
"Hello? Giles?
Yes, I do realise it's been a while. And yes, that you're very busy.
Ohhh, end of the world? No, I hadn't noticed, everything is *perfectly* normal in L.A. No demons, no vampires, everyone skipping about eating fruit cake. Of *course* it's an end of the world. There's one every year! Last year, it was Willow!
Yes, I do know I'm being sarcastic.
No, there was a reason for calling. I have four Potentials here. They assumed I was you.
What? Houseful? But surely four of them..
Yes, I know Angel lives in a hotel. But he is a vampire. They are Slayers.
Spike is still around? For God's sake, Rupert! Why haven't you staked that useless vampire yet?
He won't like it, Giles.
Fine. They can stay. But as soon as you have room for them.."
The receiver dropped into its cradle with a loud click. Angel handed him a glass.
"Thank you," he said, absently, sipping it. "There's a problem. It appears we have gained four Potential slayers."
* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *
A/N: Right. That's 3571 words here. I wrote 3571 words in one chapter. You can spare me fifteen, can't you? Cuz stories such as this get boring very quickly if no one wants to read them.
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The lights in the hotel were dark, and as the door swung open, Connor was careful not to let it bang behind him. He moved towards the stairs-
"Connor, come back down now." Angel's low voice carried a threat to it.
At his father's words, the boy backed back into the room. The lights snapped on. Angel's eyes fixed on his son's blue orbs.
"What have you done to yourself?" Cordy gasped, putting a hand to her mouth. The bruises forming across Connor's face, and the blood there made her feel nauseous. Angel normally did the whole, vamp-super-healing thing before he got this gross.
"A few demons didn't like me killing their friend," he replied nonchalantly, shrugging. "I got hit."
"And if you'd been in the hotel, with Jane as asked, you wouldn't be out, getting hit," Angel stated, his jaw stony.
Connor folded his arms.
"I don't have to explain myself to you," he spat defensively.
"No. I agree. You're an adult, right Connor?" the agreeable tone of Angel's voice was off with his movements. He stood, body and shoulders set, and his own arms folded. "An adult. Old enough to know what he's doing, what he can accomplish, whether or not he's getting himself killed, or just going into a risky situation, right, Connor?" Connor shifted on the spot uneasily. Angel moved forward.
"An adult is supposed to be responsible. So how come Jane was with Lorne? She's a little kid, her parents are dead, and as far as we knew, she was completely normal. So how come you left her in a demon bar, with only Lorne as protection?" he growled.
"And a hey from the green demon!" Lorne protested, from the couch. Angel glanced at him, and then back to Connor.
"My parents are dead. *I* can take care of myself," Connor muttered.
A muscle jumped in Angel's jaw. He unfolded, and refolded his arms.
"Yes. And you are seventeen years old. There's a difference."
"Technically he's only two years old," Fred added, then covered her mouth with her hand. "Sorry."
* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
Jane shivered, and covered her ears with her hands. Why was Connor all growly to Angel? It made her stomach hurt. It was all her fault. Aunt Es had always said that she made things bad.
Maybe if I go away again, then they'll be better. But then *they* would find me.
She hugged herself tightly, curling tighter into a ball on the step, and one hand crept up to clutch the tag on the chain, zipping it back and forth, restlessly. Zip. Zip. Zip.
Roughly, Connor shoved past her, running up the stairs. She pulled her knees up higher, and bent her head over them, resting her chin.
"Hey sweet cheeks," Lorne said, slipping an arm around the girl's shoulders. She looked up at him miserably, her pale hair falling either side of her tear stained little face.
"Everyone's pretty mad, huh?"
"Yeah, they are. You see, most people don't know about people like me.Jane, do you know what I am?" he looked at her curiously.
She dropped her eyes back to her knees, and moved the tag back and forth once again.
"Jane?" he probed gently.
"You're a demon," she answered finally, her voice muffled by her hands. "Like Uncle Rory, and Aunt Patricia. Daddy said that I wasn't s'posed to stay in the room with them, though, 'cause he said their 'tentions might slip. Would your 'tentions slip, Lorne?" she asked.
He chuckled. "No sweetness. They wouldn't. How'd your Daddy know they were demons?"
"'Cause he was one," Jane answered. "A nice one. Mommy always said he was the best demon in the whole wide world, and the best Daddy too."
" How's about we get you ready for bed, Jane?" he offered, holding out a green hand.
"Okay," she replied, taking it, and picking herself up. "But I get a story."
"Once upon a time, there was a wonderful demon named Lauren of the Deathwok clan.."
She wrinkled her nose.
"Is that you, Lorne?" she asked. He shrugged.
"It might be. Now this demon had impeccable taste in style, music, and cheekbones like marble.."
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"Honey?" Cordelia swung open the door. Jane looked up, from a big book propped up on the quilt. A soft blue lamp was sitting beside her, and her uniform was folded over the back of a chair.
"What's that?" she asked, curious. Jane lifted it up.
"Fred gave it to me. It's about a princess, in a big tower, who everyone loved, but they can't remember her, 'cause she's been away so long. And a Prince called Florizel is gonna go save her," Jane answered eagerly. "It's a good book."
Cordelia smiled, and sat down on the end of the bed.
"That was a book she used to read when she came back from Pylea, where Lorne used to live."
"Nuh uh," Jane shook her head firmly. "Lauren of the Deathwok clan lived in Pylea. He was a wonderful magic demon, who could sing, and make people feel better. He helped Fred get away from the evil people, all on his own!"
"Hmm," Cordelia muttered. "Not the way *I* heard it. " Jane looked at her questioningly.
"But that's okay. Fred was really, really shy when she came back, and she used to read the book over and over imagining Ang..Lauren was her Prince Florizel, because he saved her," she told Jane.
Jane gave a small smile.
"'Night 'night. "
"G'night," Jane yawned sleepily, as Cordy switched out the light.
* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *
"We're nearly there," Starr informed them, shifting the backpack uncomfortably from one shoulder to the other with a sigh. "Another coupla miles, and we'll be there. We'd best crash for the night."
Jess tugged on Gabby's arm, the smaller blonde meekly following, tired.
"C'mon, we can go to sleep soon," she encouraged, her blue eyes still bright. Gabby yawned, setting Faye off. The younger girl yawned so hugely that the sketchpad tucked under one arm crumpled slightly.
"Sleep is good," she mumbled. Starr grinned slightly, swiping at an unruly lock of black hair.
"Yeah. It is. But where we're headed, there's a hotel."
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *
Cordy sat up in bed, fighting for breath. Blurred images of a person, their face cloaked, laughter, smoke, a smell.incense, a feeling of tightness, a stabbing pain in her throat- her hands grabbed at her neck, fumbling for an invisible attacker, trying to loosen the grip of the vision. But there was no attacker, no place, no actual visual of a person they could save, then, as someone turned, blackness.
"Cordy? Cordy!" Angel was shaking her shoulders, his face grim. She blinked, and sighed, dropping back onto the pillows.
"Vision. Strong one."
He stroked her face tenderly. The visions had lightened since Cordy's half demon side had been put in place, but this one was as strong as the visions she had gone through on her birthday.
"Can we help? Where is it?" She shook her head mutely.
"No. No place, no person. Just a vision. And pain." She held him tightly, taking comfort in his presence. He enclosed her, wrapping the quilt around her more warmly.
* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
Jane lay back in the bed, shivering slightly. The stabbing pain in her head, and her neck had gone, but the remembrance of it made her ache. She turned over, huddling under the quilt, snuffled a couple of times, and dropped back into dreamless sleep.
* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
"So, we're deciding what exactly? That since Jane didn't go, ooh creepy demon, when she saw Lorne, we're going to allow her to see us kill things? And allow her out to kill things *with* us?" Cordelia demanded. Angel winced.
"Cor, your voice has risen by about two octaves in pitch."
"Well, I'm so sorry, Mister let's expose eight year olds to huge, deathly danger!" she snapped.
"Cordelia! Calm down! We're not advocating Jane being exposed to stuff that would scare her, just that, we no longer have to watch whatever we say, Lorne can be around without worry, that kind of thing," he replied. She moved to the sink, clattering the frying pan there.
"Is it too much to ask that she possibly have a normal life for a tiny bit?" she pleaded. He frowned.
"Cordelia, this girl appeared in a vision. The last vision you had since then you didn't get anything from. Then, she walks into a demon bar, and tells a 200-pound chirago demon to stop cussing. I fail to see how normal her life can be!"
"Fine. But if she gets hurt, you're going down to the E.R," she warned. She looked over to where the little girl was eating cereal happily at the table. Connor had seated himself nearby, and was forking up eggs, and fried bacon. She turned back to the dishes, but sudden laughter made her turn.
"Connor!" she rebuked the teenager, who was helpless with laughter, as he urged on Jane's blowing bubbles in the milk, so much so that it overflowed onto the table. Jane looked up at her, doe eyed.
"Cordy? Can I go play with Fred now?" she requested politely, a little milk moustache gracing her upper lip. Cordelia fought the urge to grin.
"Little horror! Fine, you can go, just put your bowl in the sink please, and-" she took a napkin, and wiped off the aftermath of the milk. "Now you can go, munchkin."
Jane skipped away, and Connor went back to eating in silence. Cordelia looked at Angel.
"I'm serious. You're the one in the E.R."
* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
Gunn looked up from polishing the axe, to meet two big brown eyes.
"What's up, Pippi?" he asked, rubbing it. She frowned, creasing her forehead.
"I'm Jane," she stated, folding her arms. A small grin appeared on Gunn's face.
"Yeah, I know. I was talking about the hairstyle." He picked up one of the braids.
"It's a braid, not a pippi, Gunn," she sighed, sounding ten years older. He laughed then.
"Guess it's not," he agreed. Silence fell again, as he rubbed the axe again, concentrating on shining the blade.
"What're you doing?" He looked up again.
"Bad, naughty things," he replied awkwardly to her, in an attempt to get her to go away. He didn't know what to do with kids. He'd never been around many of them, and Alanna had been fourteen when they were completely alone. Her eyes lit up.
"Can I play?"
He groaned inwardly.
"No. It's a grown-ups' game."
She stuck out her bottom lip.
"Please?"
"You know I'll have to cut that off," he told her. When could a guy get time alone with his axe? He needed the time, and the axe definitely needed polishing. It wasn't as shiny any more. Didn't give him that little tingle when he picked it up.
"O-kay," she sighed, walking away.
* ~ * ~ * `
"Right. We are *not* going to scare the nice people. We're going to go in, find who we're looking for, and do what they say. Understand?" Starr demanded, hefting the backpack over her shoulders. Gabby and Faye nodded silently. Jess met her eyes, and folded her arms.
"No," she pronounced. Starr bit back a sharp reply.
"What's wrong now?" she asked, tiredly.
"I don't see why we have to be pulled out of our homes, just 'cause our Watchers got blown up in England, and haul ass across the country, so we can go see the Watcher who has control of the Slayer. It's completely pointless. He's not the only Watcher alive," Jess argued. She glared at Starr. "Just 'cause your dumb brother thinks this guy is God's gift to slaying. What does Sullivan know about it? He's not even a girl!"
Starr's lips twitched at that, but she drew in a deep breath. Jessamy had been pushing the limits every day.
"Jessamy, we are here because both Sullivan, and our Watchers thought he was the best person to come to. We were under the Council's training, so we obey what is left of the Council, without getting into serious stuff. Sully *is* a Council operative, but only a minor one, so he couldn't have taken control. You know what Travers was like. I wanted to stop that happening. The only person who has ever had a Slayer with something close to a normal life is this one. A Slayer, Jess. You're a Potential, so the claims on you should be even less. This is the one perfect person to come to, and we're going to stay, and talk to him, find out what we should do, if we should go home."
"We were home," Jess replied defensively.
"No, Jess. We were in England. We're American. All four of us. Five, including Sully. We lived in England for the past four years. I've been there a longer time, but America is home, and I still have a family, somewhere. As soon as I can, I'm ditching the Slayer wannabe gig, and catching the first ride going home. This is the best possible person to say we can," Starr pleaded, her eyes big with hope. "I don't want to die, neither should you. That's why we've crossed the ocean, to get here, and to him. Because this is the only place we can find freedom."
After this impassioned diatribe, Jess opened her mouth to speak, but fell silent, still frowning mutinously, but quietly. Starr glanced around with relief.
"Right. Has anyone else got any problems?" She strode through the front entrance, letting the glass door swing open behind her, admitting the three girls.
A black guy was polishing a large weapon, a thin brunette was drifting into the room, clutching a thick tome, muttering under her breath, a bright green skinned demon, with small red horns, and a loud orange suit was reading a story book with a little girl curled up beside him on a couch, a tall broody-looking man was propped up against a wall, sipping a glass of something dark red, listening to the brunette, and an unshaven man, dressed in a leather jacket was talking quickly to another brunette in distinctly British tones.
"Wrong person," Starr announced hopelessly, turning, and walking straight out, attracting the attention of everyone in the room.
"Hey! Come back!" Angel called. He moved quickly to the doorway. "Who are you?"
The tall woman turned. She was younger than Cordelia, or Fred, in her late teens. Short black locks curled around her neck, and she had large grey eyes, with a look of irritation, and great tiredness. She shifted the bag on her back.
"I'm in the wrong place," she informed him. "I'm looking for Wesley Wyndham Pryce. And this place." she looked around, and lifted an eyebrow. "Well, considering there's a demon over there, I doubt a Watcher of the Council would be here. "
"Actually," Wesley stepped forward. "I am Mr Wyndham Pryce. What is your connection with the Council?"
"Wesley?" Starr's brow furrowed. "Wesley? That you?"
"I don't believe we've been acquainted," Wesley replied, with a frown.
"No," Starr agreed. "You know my brother, Sullivan. Sullivan Reynolds. And I'm Starr." She ushered the three girls back into the room. "And these are Potentials. Meet Jessamy Kendall, Gabriella Hart, and Faye Robins. We've been headed here from a long way away. Sully told me that you were the Watcher of the Slayer, the true Slayer. He said you were collecting Potentials. I thought, you were the only one whose Slayer has survived past her 20th birthday, it would be the perfect place for Gabby, Jess and Faye." She gave him a pleading look. The black man coughed.
"Yeah, it would," he smiled, walking forward. The smile disappeared. "Unfortunately, you *have* got the wrong place. See, the *real* Slayer, the one that's not doing time cuz she killed someone, is over in Sunnydale. With a guy named Giles. Wes here is just the screw up. Fired. And last I heard, he was a rogue demon hunter, in badly fittin' leather pants." He gave the other man a sizing up look. "Who tries to mack on other guy's girls."
"Charles!" the brunette with the book snapped. Starr held up a hand.
"Whoa. Dizzy. Hold up. What do you mean, wrong person?"
Wesley glared at Gunn, but turned, and shrugged.
"I'm afraid, that in part, he is correct. I am a Watcher of the Slayer, but Faith is at present doing penance at the state prison. Mr Rupert Giles, of Sunnydale, is Watcher to Buffy Summers, the elder Slayer I believe you're referring to. I had heard of the Council's ending, and I can put through a call to Giles to get you there, with the other Potentials. Meanwhile, this is a hotel, and Angel, who owns it would possibly let you stay here."
The brunette stood beside the dark-clad man poked him sharply in the ribs.
The vampire stepped forward. "If you want to stay, there are plenty of rooms."
"Thanks," Starr replied gratefully. "It's only eight thirty, but we've been moving since ten this morning. No breaks. Where can I get the girls settled?"
The more rounded brunette stepped forward now, the vampire still rubbing where she had poked him before.
"Hi, I'm Cordelia," she smiled warmly. "You obviously know Wes, tall dark and broody is Angel, Gunn's the one with the axe, and that's Fred. Lorne is over there, with Jane. I'll show you where you guys can crash."
"Starr? I don't think I can remember that many names," Faye whispered. Cordelia smile broadened.
"It's okay. The important name is Cordelia," she informed the girl. "Right, upstairs."
As she led the four along a corridor, she pointed to various doors.
"Angel and I, Jane, Fred, Gunn, and then, up there," she pointed up a darker staircase, that was fairly narrow, 'Is Connor. Angel's son. He's out at the moment, patrolling. So, if we put...what's your name sweetie?" she pointed to Gabby.
"Gabby," the small blonde mumbled, in a tiny voice. Her moss green eyes were looking at the floor, and her wispy bangs fell across her face. Cordelia opened the door. Two twin beds, with a wardrobe, dresser, and mirror.
"If you go in here, with-"
"Jess," Jessamy cut in, throwing her bag onto the bed. She turned to face Cordelia, her thick red hair flying around her shoulders. She lifted her chin, her blue eyes meeting Cordelia's defiantly. "Gabby and I stay together."
"Okay," Cordy nodded. "Suits me. Now, you are?"
"Faye," Starr supplied. Faye clung to Starr's side. Her braid of light brown hair was mussed, and she was blinking rapidly behind her glasses in an attempt to stay awake, but she gripped tightly onto Starr's hand.
"If you go in here, Starr can go next door. See. There's a connecting door," Cordelia pointed out. "Bathrooms join onto every room, so you can all shower, or whatever. Angel will probably sort out dinner. See us downstairs in ten," she instructed, and walked off.
"See? Everything's fine," Starr reassured Faye. "They'll just call Mr Giles, and we'll catch the next bus to Sunnydale. No problem."
* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
"Hello? Giles?
Yes, I do realise it's been a while. And yes, that you're very busy.
Ohhh, end of the world? No, I hadn't noticed, everything is *perfectly* normal in L.A. No demons, no vampires, everyone skipping about eating fruit cake. Of *course* it's an end of the world. There's one every year! Last year, it was Willow!
Yes, I do know I'm being sarcastic.
No, there was a reason for calling. I have four Potentials here. They assumed I was you.
What? Houseful? But surely four of them..
Yes, I know Angel lives in a hotel. But he is a vampire. They are Slayers.
Spike is still around? For God's sake, Rupert! Why haven't you staked that useless vampire yet?
He won't like it, Giles.
Fine. They can stay. But as soon as you have room for them.."
The receiver dropped into its cradle with a loud click. Angel handed him a glass.
"Thank you," he said, absently, sipping it. "There's a problem. It appears we have gained four Potential slayers."
* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *
A/N: Right. That's 3571 words here. I wrote 3571 words in one chapter. You can spare me fifteen, can't you? Cuz stories such as this get boring very quickly if no one wants to read them.
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