Chapter Twenty~Eight: Many happy returns, but not really.
Warning: I don't watch Angel. If you do, and you try to apply character
developments which have occurred in Angel: the Series to my version of
Angel: the Vampire, soon to appear in this very story, you will probably
end up getting very annoyed.
So just imagine that you are a high-school-age Buffy fan that has never seen Angel, and outside infic spoilers, has no idea what's going on in LA. Then you'll be fine.
Ooh! Better yet, pretend that you're a person reading a fiction written by someone that has never seen Angel, and is basing all her character development on her own imagination and infic spoilers.
Even better, pretend that Angel: the Series never happened, and you're basing all character development on your own imagination.
But the very best thing to do is to think to yourself, "Oh, Angel's back! What's he been doing the past four years, I wonder? I bet Star Mouse will let me know soon. La la la."
('La la la' is optional, and can be substituted with 'Dum di dum'.)
~Star Mouse
@ @ @
Buffy looked down in disgust at the top of Dawn's head.
"You're never any fun."
She wandered off in search of Vadas.
She found him back at the table. He acknowledged her with a regal tilt of his glass. "Anne. Something I can do for you?"
"Just wanted to let you know I'm going out."
"Oh, you are? And the girl?"
Buffy shook her head. "There's no point in questioning her. She's the equipment, not the manual. I'm off in search of something more interesting." With that she turned and headed for the door.
"This close to the deadline? Is that wise?" he called out after her. She didn't answer.
@ @ @
Several heads looked up when Xander came out of the Danger Room. A bit sluggishly, now that it was approaching 5:00 am.
Petchra gulped before whispering, "How is he?"
"Nearly incoherent. But he's moved on from the dangerous 'only destruction and loud noises can soothe me' stage to the one where he's quietly hating himself."
Anya breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank God. I don't think I could have taken the death of another urn."
Birdie paced restlessly. "Are you sure there's no way to locate them?"
Giles slammed his hand down. "Willow's tried! Apparently, they've put some astonishingly powerful wards up in the last few hours. Nothing can get through. She can't even get any of the depossession spells off the ground." He rubbed his eyes. "She's still trying, of course."
Anya looked at him. "She should stop soon. The weaker she gets, the more likely she'll..."
"I can't get through to her. Marion's woken up, though, and she was going to try..."
Birdie shook her head, saying, "If we don't find Dawn soon... Mr. Giles, Buffy could do anything to her like this."
"Yeah, and Spike's probably going to start trashing things again if we don't get a plan together soon," Faith added, trying to show her support.
"What if he gets dangerous?" Xander asked slowly.
"He won't. He's just worried about her, that's all."
"I know, I'm just running through some scenarios."
"Xander, you know better..." The camera (metaphoric camera) slides away from the people at the table, and the voices fade neatly into the background as focus shifts to the danger room itself.
Spike is lying on the battered and dirty couch, face up, listening as the group discusses him. Well, he can hear them, anyway. He doesn't particularly care what the words meant right now. He's already gotten the important bits.
Dawn's gone.
Buffy took her.
There's nothing we can do.
That's when it started to suck. And not in the good way. He didn't deal well with crises like these. Tended to ....kill things. Sometimes it helped. Other times, not so much. And as much as it killed him to admit it, he didn't really see a way that bashing heads could possibly make things better.
The cold, calculating logic was always a bad sign.
He unfolded himself from the couch and grabbed his duster on the way out the door. When he emerged from the training room, Scooby eyes followed.
"Spike?" Birdie asked hesitantly.
"'M goin' to the crypt. Call if you find out anything."
"The crypt?" Birdie repeated. The vampire had practically moved into the Summers' living room over the past month. She couldn't remember the last time she'd come downstairs to an empty couch in the morning.
But he was gone without an answer.
"It's okay," Anya said. "He's probably going off to consume large amounts of alcohol, in a futile, yet often quite enjoyable effort to block out the pain of loss." She glanced at Xander. "Which isn't a good idea."
Giles rubbed his forehead. "I suppose one of us should attempt to stop him."
"Ah, let 'im go," Faith waved an arm dissmissively. "It's not like he's any good right now anyway. What's the prob?"
"And I for one don't want to be in charge of keeping the vampire from his liquor. It sounds dangerous."
Anya cocked her head. "Doesn't he have a chip?"
".Oh yeah. ...I'm still not volunteering."
"What, are you afraid he'll hurl insulting yet truthful jibes at you?"
Xander hedged. "No..."
The bell ding'd. Petchra jumped up. "Our hours of operation are between 8am and 8pm. Please come back tomorrow, or visit the official Magic Box website in the meantime, thank you."
Xander patted Anya's arm. "Honey, you've trained her well."
"Um, hello?"
His smile vanished. "Now that's a voice I haven't missed for years. He looked up. "Dead Boy. How's it floatin'?"
The dark figure by the door sighed. "For the love of God, stop calling me that." He looked up. "I'm here on business. Faith--" he stopped, when the faces actually registered. "...is here."
Faith slowly stood from her perch on the table. "Hey! ...H-how'd you find me?"
Angel shook his head, remembering to allow for the Sunnydale Factor. "Cordelia had a vision. Saw you in Sunnydale."
Faith nodded. Xander scrunched his forehead. "Cordy's getting visions now?"
Angel ignored him. "Faith, why'd you do it?"
"What, prison's such a blast?"
"I thought you'd decided to do your time, get redeemed, fight the good fight. That plan doesn't include busting out of prison and fleeing the city."
The Dark Slayer bristled. "Hey, Fang, I am fighting the good fight. I wasn't doing anyone any good incarcerated, and now that Buffy's b--" She stopped.
Angel's face darkened. "Buffy's ...what?"
@ @ @
"Aracalan spe vu schalva ne. Arca mi paleor val..."
Marion bit her lip as she watched Willow swing the censor. She'd been at it ever since Marion herself had woken up, four hours earlier, bright and coherent. She could tell it was taking it's toll on the young redhead. A few more attempts and she would have exhausted herself beyond the realm of usefulness.
Marion bit back a sigh of relief when she felt the spell fizzle out. Again. She quickly pulled the woozy Willow away from the circle electric-taped out on the carpet.
"That's it; I'm cutting you off," she said, resting the American on the floor against the couch.
Willow put up a token struggle, mumbling, "No, I can do it, I just need to..."
Marion grabbed the questing hands and held them firmly to the witch's own sides. "Baby, it's like beating yourself against a wall. You're not going to get through, and trying again won't do anything to change that."
She was alarmed to see a tear roll down Willow's cheek. "Oh, I'm sorry, luv, I'm sorry."
"It's all my fault," Willow blubbered. "It's- it's always my fault, but I can't -I can't fix it!"
"Shh..." Marion pulled the bawling redhead to her. "Making yourself sick isn't going to help."
"No, but --It makes me feel better."
"Willow, right now you must save yourself. For when we do have a plan. And I have a feeling it can wait until the morning."
@ @ @
Spike fell onto the sarcophagus in his upper level around 5:30, mentally exhausted but unable to sleep.
He must have at some point, because he woke to a loud crash.
It took him about two seconds to register that as the door being kicked into the wall.
It took less for him to narrow down the list of creatures of a mind and strength of exerting that much force on his door to exactly one.
A deep sniff confirmed it.
The Slayer was back.
He tried to make his mind race, but he'd only just woken up, after all. Think, dammit, think. What works on the Slayer? Bravado usually helped a little. Good! Go with that.
Without sitting up, he drawled, "Can I help you, pet?"
"Possibly," came the response, and nothing more. He propped himself up on his elbows, to get a look.
There she was. What was it about evil that made people turn to leather pants? Not that he minded. In love or not, possessed or not, Buffy Summers was a gorgeous woman. He smirked. "Nice outfit, luv." This creature hurt Dawn.
"Thought you might like that," she said dryly. This creature kidnapped Dawn.
"You wore it for me?" He asked, as she came closer. This creature beat Buffy Summers.
Buffy smirked. "I wore it to distract you." And with that, the first punch of the evening was thrown.
Spike's head flew back to crack against his stone bed, but he managed to roll away in time to avoid the follow-up. He tumbled to his feet, with the sarcophagus between them, and shoved the cover off at her, falling into the fight without a second thought.
The grave cover tripped her up for a moment, and Spike took the offensive, leaping back over the now open sarcophagus to land as many punches as he could while the Slayer was distracted with not falling over. It didn't last long though. She sorted herself out and returned with a kick to the gut that sent Spike flying into the opposite wall.
He slumped for a second, registering the fact that she was even stronger when she was possessed, before once again rolling away just ahead of another blow. Buffy's fist plowed two inches into the stone wall, and Spike took the opportunity presented to grab her arms and hurl her across the room. He launched himself after and before she had a chance to pick herself up, he was on her, forearms at her wrists, legs twisted around hers to pin her down.
Buffy looked up into the fangs and brow ridges of a seriously pissed off master vampire, and grinned.
"This is the part where you try to convert me to the side of good before you kill me," she prompted, struggling for a give.
"Why bother?" he returned, adjusting his grip.
"No reason. It's just kind of what you're supposed to do at times like this."
"Something tells me you wouldn't listen anyway."
She stopped struggling, and looked up at him. What are you going to do? It's a stalemate. You have to let go to attack, and the second you do, I'm gone."
"Who said I had to let go to attack you?" He asked, and dove for her throat.
@ @ @
Angel sat silent for a while, digesting the confused Scooby explanation and its implications.
He looked up. "Buffy's possessed?"
Anya nodded solemnly.
"And she's working with Dorjan Vadas?"
Anya shrugged. "As near as we can figure."
"And none of the spells you've tried are working to depossess her?"
"Nope."
"...Oh."
@ @ @
When Spike went for the throat, Buffy craned her own head and sunk her teeth in the side of his neck, as hard and deep as she could manage. Which translated to pretty deep.
Spike pulled back with an anguished howl. At least a vampire's fangs are sharp. This was like sutures with a dull needle. Buffy used the flinch to press forward, punching him again and knocking him back long enough for her to scramble to her feet.
"You know, there's a war coming. Us against you people," she panted, looking down on the profusely bleeding vampire. "And you know what? You don't deserve to be a part of it."
And she pulled a stake from her waistband.
Spike stared up at the calculating hazel eyes, just before she lunged.
Time did that thing where it goes super slow and then catches up in a rush. A rush that ended with Spike crying out in shock and pain.
He jerkily turned his head to stare down at the stake embedded in his ...right shoulder? His eyes darted back up to Buffy, who was standing there, wide-eyed.
"No.." she whispered stunned. She suddenly turned angry. "No! She can't--. I- I" She started backing away. "It's not possible," she gritted. "She can't." She stumbled against the sarcophagus, then broke into a sprint for the door.
Spike staggered upright, the stake still projecting from his shoulder, and watched helplessly as she escaped into the sunlight. He stared after her for several moments, licking his lips.
"Bloody hell," he whispered. It had just been for an instant. The demon was firmly in control. But on the downswing, just as he stake was about to--.
She broke through. Buffy broke through.
She'd saved him.
@ @ @
When Marion arrived at the Magic Box, she was greeted by one more solemn face than she was used to.
"Who's this?" She asked, eying the broad brunette slumped at the table.
"Angel. Buffy's first vampire," Xander answered.
The young Watcher eyed the apparently thirty~year~old man. "He looks as if he's just been filled in."
"You're not wrong."
She came over to the table. Faith and Birdie were both perched on the tabletop itself, with Petchra leaning against the edge. Anya and Xander were seated in the chairs. Angel took the third, leaving one left open for Giles, but the Englishman had apparently eschewed it in favor of the wall off to the side. Marion took the chair.
Giles spoke into his mug. "Willow?"
"Nearly burned out," Marion answered. "I cut her off about an hour ago. I don't think magic's the answer this time 'round." She licked her lips. "Any other plans?"
"None, I'm afraid."
Marion swallowed. "I may have one."
Xander sat up. "Do tell."
"They're trying to open a gateway. That's why they wanted me," she began.
"Dawn," Giles realized.
"Dawn?" Marion's brow furrowed. "What does she have to do with interdemensional gateways?"
"She opens them," Anya explained. "By bleeding."
"Really?" Faith asked. "Huh."
Angel didn't react.
Marion looked around at the assembled. "You ...failed to mention this?"
"Sorry," Xander spoke for the group.
Giles came over to lean on the table. "It's ...possible, with Dawn's latent powers, they no longer need the information they were attempting to extract from you. There are numerous spells that would become much simpler with a being such as Dawn at their dispose. They may very well be ready to act at this very moment."
"What exactly are they trying to do?" Anya asked curiously.
"They were going to summon an army," Marion said. "At least, that's what I gathered from the questions she was asking. Standard take-over the-world procedure."
Angel made a decision, and looked up. "So we'll stop them."
Xander spread his arms. "And how do you propose we do that?"
The vampire looked sideways at him before addressing the group. "By whatever means necessary."
"You'd kill Buffy," Xander asked incredulously.
Angel's gaze was level. "She'd do the same for me."
"Yes, well, that's all rather irrelevant at this point, I'm afraid. We don't even know where they are."
Angel turned to Marion. "You?"
"I didn't see much, being a bit unconscious at the time." She shook her head. "Buffy'd converted a room into a training facility, and that was where she... .It's all kind of blurred."
"So that's a dead end," Faith said. "We need a new plan."
"Linoleum."
Giles blinked. "What?"
"Linoleum," Marion repeated. "Linoleum tile and concrete block."
"Well, that's a classic combination," Xander said. "School building."
"The high school?" Angel asked.
"Um, problem. It was completely destroyed."
"The college," Birdie suggested.
"It's in session; someone would have noticed."
"Hey!" Xander snapped his fingers. Anya snapped hers too. "There's a new elementary school going up right now. It was going to open next year, but they spent all their money on the theater and had to halt construction..."
"That's it." Angel stood up.
Giles straightened also. "You seem to have forgotten: they already have an army. We may be talking hundreds of vampires, not to mention Buffy and that Dorjan chap. You propose to go up against it, against them single-handedly?"
Faith hopped off the table. "Not single-handedly. I'm there."
Petchra, who had been silent the entire conversation, pushed herself off the table and picked up her staff from against the wall. She calmly walked over to join Faith and Angel. Birdie hopped up without a second thought.
Anya shrugged. "That significantly increases your odds. You'll still die, though."
Giles suddenly remembered the prophecy. But one Slayer and one vampire are missing.
Angel nodded to the three Slayers, and looked around. "Weapons?"
"Lots," Xander said. He swallowed, then nodded. "Go kick some ass."
@ @ @
Review. Please. Now.
~Star Mouse
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