The chaos and bloodshed of the last few nights had made Gwen wish she still had her powers. Without them, she felt vulnerable. Earlier in the day, Gwen had thought of going to Angel to find out what he knew. But she decided against it, since there didn't seem to be anything apocalyptic or mystical about recent events. And, even without her old powers, Gwen was by no means helpless. Besides, none of the deaths were in her neighborhood. So she didn't see the harm in going out to a movie. Now she's on her way home, looking decidedly low-key by her standards. No makeup. Hair pulled back. Black jeans, red t-shirt and a black leather jacket. Nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Except now. As she approaches her building, Gwen notices an unfamiliar man standing in front of the door.
"The train passes very near this building. Under that street at the end of the block. And every time I passed by, I could feel a slight tingle on the back of my neck."
Gwen assumes he's a mentally ill and possibly homeless. However, the fact that he's wearing very expensive-looking black pants, blue button-down shirt and black buttoned-up vest would tend to argue against that last assumption. Still, he clearly has problems. She walks up the stairs and tries to walk by him on the landing. Mal grabs her right forearm with his right hand and pushes her back so she's standing on the stairs again. Gwen gets nervous. She can tell from his grip that this guy's very strong. "What's your problem?," she asks with annoyance and fear. "You want my money? Is that what this is about?" Then Gwen notices that Mal has a gold Rolex on his right wrist. "Okay. It's probably not money you want." Now Gwen's really worried.
"I walked here last night. And I felt it. But not tonight. You know why? Because you weren't here. It's inside you." Gwen spins and tries to sweep Mal's legs with her left foot. Mal jumps in the air and lands a leaping right kick to her chest, knocking Gwen back down to the sidewalk. He jumps down after her. This was going to be more fun than he expected. Gwen tries a right roundhouse kick, which Mal blocks. He also blocks a right cross, left jab and right elbow. Mal grabs both her wrists. Gwen tries a right knee to the groin, but Mal kicks back her left foot, causing Gwen to lose her balance before she can land the blow, on account of not having a leg to stand on. She can tell this guy's good. "I didn't want to hurt you. But you left me no choice." Mal pushes Gwen thirty feet backwards and goes bumpy. She slams into the opposite wall. When she stands up, Gwen notices that her attacker is a vampire. "You put it in your head! How else am I supposed to get it?"
Gwen had worried about someone trying to get the gem which took away her powers. But she had put such worries behind her. This thing had been in lying around in Malta for two hundred years. If people didn't want it then, why would they want it now? The problem was, when the gem was outside of her body, it was inert. Now that it's in her brain, it's active and powerful. Mal could sense that power. He figured he could make a few new friends by selling it to some powerful mystic in another dimension. Gwen's pulse races. Mal hangs back, as if he's giving Gwen a chance to try to make it inside. Gwen races at him and tries a cartwheel kick. Mal moves to his right and avoids it. However, this lets Gwen get by him. But she's only halfway up the stairs before Mal grabs her and tosses Gwen into the middle of the street.
"The tragic thing about this is, I am really beginning to like you," Mal confesses. Gwen moves to Mal's left. He turns to face her, so that they're parallel to the building. Gwen leaps onto the stone banister and tries a flying right hook kick. Mal steps back, avoids the blow and then leaps up onto the landing, which is twelve feet away and four feet up, blocking Gwen's path to the door. "If there is any chance you can remove it on your own, please let me know before I am forced to kill you." Mal leaps down to the sidewalk. Gwen kicks Mal in the chest while he's in midair. She tries a right jab after he lands, but he blocks it. The same thing happens when Gwen spins around and attempts a left roundhouse punch. Mal grabs her right ankle when she tries to kick him in the groin. He throws her leg up, and she does a backwards hand spring. Mal claps.
"It's almost like dancing!," Mal exclaims. Gwen can tell he's getting off on the fight. Yet he hasn't even tried to punch her, which is very odd, considering how he keeps vowing to kill her.
"And I thought I was lonely," Gwen quips, trying to stall as she catches her breath. "You wanna kill me, go ahead. But don't make a whole evening out of it." Both of them hear the roar of an engine to Gwen's left and Mal's right. A truck's coming at them with its headlights off. Gwen dives for the door, rolls on the sidewalk and gets up. Mal jumps in the air. The truck passes under him. Gunn slams on the brakes. When he gets out, both Mal and Gwen are gone. He limps towards the door. No way he can climb five flights with an arrow still in his foot.
Mal rushed inside and leaped up the center of the stairwell, bounding from level-to-level. When Gwen gets to the fourth floor, one floor from her place, Mal comes out of nowhere and kicks her in the chest with his right foot. Gwen tumbles down a flight. She runs down another flight only to find Mal waiting for her on the third floor. He pushes her hard into the wall. "Relax. I have no interest in drinking your blood or abusing your body. I simply want to rip your head off and take what's inside." Gwen leaps over the railing and falls to the first floor. Mal sighs, asks himself "Why do even bother being polite?" and jumps down after her.
Gwen rushes outside. She sees the truck in the middle of the street. She leaps down the stairs and tries to run towards it, but Mal grabs her before she's taken two steps and spins Gwen around. "I promise it won't hurt." Mal leans in to bite through her spine in the back of her neck. But before he can do this, he feels a tug on his own neck. Gunn had snuck up behind Mal and wrapped a piece of piano wire around his neck. He pulls Mal away from Gwen as he tries to garrot the vampire.
"Shoulda taken me out when ya had the chance, overbite!," Gunn taunts. Mal hits Gunn twice in the mouth with his right elbow, causing Charles to let go of the wire. Mal turns around and decks Gunn with a left hook. Gwen hits the left side of Mal's face with a right hook kick. He grabs Gwen and throws her. When she hits the wall, her feet are five feet off the ground. Gwen tumbles down and lands a yard to the left of Gunn. The two of them can see that the wire is underneath Mal's skin. He slowly removes it, then sees the blood on his hands. Mal returns to his human face.
"You're not worth this," he tells Gwen before walking over to Gunn's truck. "Hope she's worth more to you that this," he says to Gunn right before he flips his truck over. Mal runs off. Gwen tries to recover from the shock, and from Mal's multiple tossings of her. She looks to her right.
"Omigod. Charles! Is that you?" Gunn looks to his left.
"You were expecting someone else?," he jokes.
"You mean Angel? I can't imagine him behind the wheel of a pickup."
"Are you okay?," Gunn asks, trying to play the hero.
"A whole lot better than you." Gwen gets up and looks Charles over. "Is that an arrow in your foot?"
"Sure is."
"You've had a rough night."
"Not as rough as some people." Gunn stands up.
"Come on in," Gwen suggests.
"Not like I can get home anytime soon," Gunn responds, referring to his overturned truck. He puts his right arm around her shoulders, she puts her left around his waist, and helps him inside. They take the freight elevator up.
"I going to take a wild guess and say he's the one who's been killing everybody."
"His name's Mal. He's 3,500 years old, give-or-take a century. Really powerful."
"I noticed. What's Angel doing about it?"
"Mal stuck him in another dimension. We've been on our own. Obviously that hasn't gone well."
"I'm not complaining."
Mal walks quickly down the street wearing a full-length brown leather coat to hide his bow, with the collar turned up to conceal his wound. He hated having his skin cut open almost to the level of a neurotic phobia. It made him feel light-headed and weak far past the purely physical effect of the wound. For all his seeming invincibility, Mal was a vampire scared by the sight of his own blood. This was why he had that magic healing potion on-hand to give to Angel. Mal reacted to injuries as if he thought he was a hemophiliac. Ironically enough, he happened to be one of the fastest-healing vampires around. The cut, which went all the way around his neck and a half-inch into his skin, would be gone in five minutes. But in his mind, Mal desperately needed blood. The light turns red. Mal walks into the street, drives his right arm through a passenger side window, grabs the terrified driver and pulls her out. He drags her over to the sidewalk and drains her while she screams. Normally, Mal wouldn't be this indiscreet. And he was violating his own rule about no killing within two miles of headquarters. But in his fevered, anxious state, Mal wasn't thinking about rules. Getting under Mal's skin was literally the one way to fracture his impossibly cool, infinitely self-assured demeanor.
The quick kill brightened his spirits. Mal starts to relax. However, the chaos this killing caused has tipped off Wesley. He drives past the intersection, sees the body, makes two left turns, drives north to within a block of the Orpheum, makes two more lefts and heads back south. To his right is his secretary Lillian. In the back seat are his employees Clifford and Roger. Wesley only wanted to take Clifford, but the other two insisted. They didn't much like cowering in their flats every night until Mal was killed. Besides, if Mal was as formidable as their employer claimed, they thought Wes and Cliff could use the backup. Mal can feel his skin mending. He puts down his collar and comforts himself with thoughts of his smashing victory. So what if Gunn saved Gem Girl? Mal had devoured twenty one of Gunn's soldiers before his eyes. Annihilated the city's demon fighters in a matter of minutes. Right after making himself master of a vast criminal underworld. Yes, this night was a tremendous success. And yes, Mal did have a neurotic, type-A personality. Though if you told him this, and tried to argue that his megalomania was caused by insecurity, he would literally rip your lungs out, all the while explaining how difficult a thing this is to do, and how few other vampires could do it.
Mal has no reason to recognize Wesley's car. He's never seen it before. And he's not bothering to watch the traffic, so he doesn't see Wesley inside the car. Which provides Wes with a perfect opening. When he's fifty feet in front of Mal, Wes swerves to the right and drives down the sidewalk. Catching Mal at one of his very rare moments of absent-mindedness, Wesley plows into the vampire, who only sees the car when it's twenty feet away and is too shocked to react. The impact knocks Mal fifteen feet back and onto the ground. Lillian puts her right arm out the window, aims her pistol and fires a tranquilizer dart. Mal puts up his left arm to block his chest, and the dart goes into his left forearm. Mal quickly gets up and runs away. Wesley pursues. Shocked drivers slow down and gawk at the unorthodox chase. Mal takes a right at the corner. Wesley plows through a bus stop and returns to the road, spinning his wheels as he accelerates into the turn. One hundred yards on, he realizes Mal has disappeared. Wesley slams on the brakes, and the four of them get out. He must be hiding. Several cars are parked along the right side of the street. Perhaps Mal's behind one of them. Wesley guesses it's the last one they passed. He inches behind the car while Cliff moves around the front. Just before they're about to trap Mal, he leaps over the vehicle, tosses the dart down into Lillian's left shoulder, does a mid-air flip and lands in the middle of the street. Wesley turns around, dashes towards Lillian as she collapses and points his two handguns at Mal. Before he can fire, Mal reaches out, grabs both of Wesley's wrists and pulls them apart, so the guns are not aimed at him. Two shots go by Mal. He head-butts Wesley and takes the firearms and Wesley falls down. Mal immediately aims them at Roger and Cliff. Cliff's holding a tranquilizer dart rifle. Roger has a crossbow. Mal sees Lillian on the ground.
"Was that supposed to be me? Good try. But I can't sleep. Now drop your weapons, and I won't shoot you," Mal commands. They can tell if they fire, he's quick enough to blow them away before the dart or the arrow could hit him. So they do as he says. Mal releases both clips, and they fall to the ground. "What did I tell you?" As this was happening Wesley slowly got up. He's fifteen feet to Roger's left. Slung around his shoulder is a shotgun. While the clips are falling, he aims the shotgun at Mal. The vampire points the gun is his right hand at Wes and shoots the shotgun out of Wesley's hands before he can fire. Clearly Mal's got the quicker draw. He turns to his right and walks towards Wesley.
"One in the chamber. You didn't think I knew that?" He points the gun in his left hand at Wesley's forehead. He looks to his left at Cliff and Roger. "Try anything, and I shoot him. But, if he dies, I let you live."
Wesley reaches his right hand into his pants pocket, pulls out his car keys and tosses them to Cliff. Wes can tell by the looks on their faces that they're not about to leave. "Take Lillian and go. I'll handle this. It's my fight."
Mal smiles and shakes his head. "You are just like Eurybades. Does he know you copy him?" Wesley takes offense at being called a Gunn wanna-be.
"Get out of here now. That's an order!," he commands his employees.
Mal moves the gun a little to the left and fires. The bullet whizzes two inches from Wesley's ear. Mal tosses both pistols behind him as he backs up and moves left towards Wesley's car. He looks at Roger and Clifford. "I let him live. Guess what happens to you?" Mal rushes to the driver's side of Wesley's car. Cliff picks up Lillian and along with Roger heads in the opposite direction, towards Wesley. He tells them to continue on to the intersection and escape, frantically attempting to explain why Mal won't kill him because of his connection to Angel. Mal overturns the vehicle. This gets them running. "You should know better!," Mal yells at Wesley as he gives chase. Wesley picks up his shotgun and aims. Just before he fires, the streaking vampire leans to the right. The pellets miss, and Mal clotheslines Wesley with his left arm. The rest of the gang doesn't get twenty feet. Mal kicks Cliff from behind, then leaps at Roger, knocking him down on his face. Mal quickly smashes Roger's skull open. Cliff drops Lillian, stands in front of her and brandishes a sword. When he swings it, Mal kicks his right foot up and across his body, knocking the sword out of Cliff's hands, grabbing him and spinning Cliff around. Before Cliff knows what's happened, Mal goes bumpy and has his fangs to Cliff's neck. Mal looks at Wesley, who's twenty five feet away and holding the shotgun. Right now, he wishes he was holding a rifle, on account of its greater precision. He can't kill Mal without killing Cliff. But maybe Mal doesn't know that.
"Drop your weapon, or you watch me drink your friend."
"What's to stop you from biting him once I drop it?," Wesley asks as he walks towards Mal.
"Good question. Nothing." Mal snaps Clifford's neck. Wesley fires. Mal tosses Cliff's body towards Wesley, making sure the corpse takes the pellets and knocks Wes on his back. Mal rushes over and grabs the shotgun. Wesley stands up and takes out a large dagger and a small stake. Mal spins around and puts Wes on his back with a left roundhouse kick. Then he swings the shotgun, hitting Wesley's head once with the back end of the weapon. Just enough to knock him out, but not enough to kill him. Mal drops the gun, picks Wesley up and hurls him through the air. He lands fifteen feet to the left of his overturned vehicle. Mal walks back to Wesley's dead or incapacitated employees. He looks back towards Wes.
"You have really boosted my spirits. For that, I'll do you a favor. You don't have to watch me feed on your friends." Mal can hear the cops a few blocks south at his previous killing. It won't be long before they come here. And he's decided he has better things to do tonight than kill cops. Once he's finished drinking, Mal climbs up a three story building and takes out his bow. He didn't hit Wes too hard. He should be regaining consciousness any moment now. Mal listens to the sirens as he waits. Within less than a minute, a groggy Wesley stands up. He saved an arrow for later precisely in case an opportunity like this came along. Mal fires. Wesley hears the high-pitched scream of the arrow coming towards him. It strikes his gas tank, which explodes. The force of the blast knocks Wesley back through the window of a storefront church across the street. Mal leaps down and struts towards Wesley. He slings his bow over his shoulder and pulls out a straight razor.
To Connor, it felt like the blackout all over again. The vampires were emboldened. They weren't feasting. Not yet, anyway. But they were hanging together in unusually large packs. Connor needed a way to counter their numerical superiority. Holtz had taught him the bare rudiments of bomb-making. So as he wondered the streets, Connor was looking for two things: something explosive, or, failing that, a few isolated vampires to dust. He isn't in a hurry. Like Angelus, Connor can be patient when he needs to be. After two hours of wandering, Connor comes upon a gas station in Century City. The attendant lies dead. Two vampires are busily filling up four thirty- gallon drums with gasoline. Mal sent out several teams to stockpile fuel for the big move tomorrow night. Connor's hit the jackpot. He sneaks up behind one vampire, takes out a dagger, and puts it in the back of the vampire's neck, severing his spine and turning him to dust before he knows exactly what's happened. Connor hurls a stake into the heart of the second vampire before he can even drop the pump. Connor realizes he may have made a big mistake. He opens the driver's side door and breathes a sigh of relief. They left the keys in the ignition. For the first time all evening, Connor smiles.
Fred paces back and forth in the lobby. Cordy runs down the stairs.
"Yep. Connor's gone too," Cordelia reports.
"Maybe they're together," Fred hopes.
"Connor's in lone wolf mode. And Charles and Wesley both seemed too alpha-male to team up tonight."
"They're gonna get themselves killed."
"I like to think that if Mal wanted us dead, we would already be in the ground."
"One can always hope. But there's other vampires. And what about the demons? Couldn't a few of them assume we've been doin' the demon killing, since we are, ya know, professional demon killers?"
"I can't believe those men. It's not enough that they head out on their own and foolishly risk their lives. Now they're making us have to do it."
This shocks Fred. "Cordy, I know you're dealin' with a lotta personal demons on account of all the things you did, or, ah mean, the things someone else did with your body, but this ain't the way to deal."
"You think I have a death wish? Please! Just because everything I work for keeps getting taken away from me doesn't mean I've given up on the future and turned into some crybuffy. I just feel stupid staying home and doing nothing while everyone else is out risking their lives."
"We could try to find them."
"Big city. And we can't track their smell." Fred starts to sob. "After everything I said, THAT's what makes you cry? I'm sorry. I wasn't even trying to be insensitive."
"I miss Angel."
"I do too." She thinks of hugging Fred, but doesn't since they've never been extremely close. She just pats her back a couple times. "There, there. Let it out. It's okay."
"You think he's . . . you know?"
"Dead? Dust? Absolutely not. This is Angel we're talking about.
"Who knows what Mal could be putting him through?"
"Angel's been to Hell and back. Literally. Not just one of those "hellish" dimensions. The real thing. Wherever Angel is now, it can't be worse than what he's already gone through."
Angel tumbles off the roof and slams into the rocks eighty feet below. His body rolls into the water. Angel stands up and finds himself waist-deep in the lagoon. He remembers what's in there, and runs back onto the land just in time to see a giant lamprey swim to the water's edge and miss him. Of all the ways to go, getting your guts sucked out by one of those monsters was near the bottom of Angel's list. More demons rush out of the gate and run towards Angel. There's too many to fight. There's nowhere on dry land to run to. He has to get back inside. Angel runs away from them until he finds a two foot-wide, eight foot-high slit in the wall that he can jump through. Angel makes his way into a twenty foot-wide central hallway that looks to run for at least two hundred feet. Flanking the hallway every fifteen feet are three feet-wide, thirty feet-high stone columns. Ten feet to the outside of either column is a wall. Twenty feet up between the columns are arched balconies running the length of the hall.
"That evil bastard really knows how to live in style," Angel concedes. Then he feels someone kick him in the back. Angel flies ten feet forward and falls on his face. He gets up, turns around and takes out his sword. The large, blue-ish demon wears metal gloves and forearm guards, as well has metal knee and elbow guards. He carries a three foot-long club which balloons out to eight inches-thick in the barrel. "That's a pretty big stick you got there." The demon swings for Angel's head. He ducks, but the demon then strikes him in the back. Angel falls on his knees, but grabs the beast's left leg and brings him down onto his back. Angel stands up and backs away, giving him room to react.
"Did the vampire bring you here, too?," Angel asks jokingly as the demon approaches. "We seem to have a common enemy. Which is why the fact that we're fighting each other, instead of both fighting him, is completely insane." The demon, who has three inches and about a hundred pounds on his opponent, hits Angel's face with a right hook kick, knocking him into one of the columns. "Okay. You're not much of a thinker. Which is too bad, because it means I have to kill you." Angel puts the sword away. Then next time the demon swings his bat, Angel grabs the barrel with both hands. It takes a lot of effort, but he stops it. Angel goes bumpy, leaps in the air and kicks the demon in the face. While he's on his back, Angel leaps on top and lands four punches to his opponent's face. The demon throws Angel off. When they both get up, Angel gets kicked in the chest. Then pounded in the ribs by the club. The demon slaps Angel's face with the back of his left hand, knocking him into another column. "Let me guess: another head-on charge." The demon rushes in and swings for Angel's face. He ducks, and the demon makes a good-sized dent in the column. Angel nails him in the back with a left hook kick, slams his face twice into the column, then throws the demon into the wall. "Now I know why he could enslave you." Angel ducks a left hook and lands a left jab, right cross and right uppercut. "You're so damn predictable!" The demon wraps his left hand around Angel's neck and brings the club in his right hand down onto Angel's skull. He falls to the ground, dazed.
"I really shoulda seen than one coming." The demon tries to stomp on Angel, but he rolls out of the way and stands up. "Last chance to hit it out of the park, Babe. But if you keep on swinging at every pitch within two feet of the plate, sooner or later I'm going to strike you out." The demon advances. Angel retreats. When the demon swings, Angel maneuvers so that a column is between him and the demon. "Probably sooner." When the demon comes over to his side, Angel goes to the other side. Angel moves out into the open, draws the demon towards him, then hides behind another column. He reaches his sword around the obstacle and slashes the demon's left hamstring. Angel then sneaks behind him. When the demon turns around, Angel hits him with a right hook kick. Angel blocks his left punch and lands a right hook. The demon swings his bat down, but Angel backs out of the way. Once the blow misses, Angel hits the demon in the chest with a straight right kick, knocking his back into a column. To avoid the club, Angel comes at the demon from his left. He swings his sword and cuts through the monster's neck. He also slices through the column.
The demon's head falls to the ground. A blue light comes out of the column where Angel's sword passed through it. "That shouldn't happen," he notes, referring to the second event. Suddenly, Angel is sucked down into the basement. The floor's dusty. The lighting is dim. That's to be expected. He hears something approaching. He can't see it, but it sounds quite large, and not at all friendly.
Cordy and Fred find themselves driving around, looking for their friends, or at least signs of demon activity which would have drawn their friends' attention.
"You're telling me you're not worried about Angel?," Fred asks.
"Of course I'm worried. But I'm nowhere near hopeless. This isn't the first time Angel's found himself in a strange and dangerous new dimension."
Kreon stands the royal hall on the citadel, looking down at the huts and hovels in the enemy's capital which he had captured one week ago. It's been nearly a year since Spike and Angel left. And here he is, leading an army two hundred miles from home. It had been a very busy year. And not just for him.
"How's my favorite brother?," Penelope asks. Kreon turns to see her and is overjoyed. "Why so shocked? I told you I'd find time to visit." She runs up to her brother and hugs him.
"It's been so long. This is great! How's Andrea?"
"You know her. Work, work, work. She's training the new recruits. Getting them ready for winter campaigning. Which, from the looks of it, you won't need to be doing."
"They came out and fought. Gave me a chance to destroy them. Guess I lucked out."
"You're not the only one."
"The three tribes surrendered already?"
"No. That's not what I mean. And that's not why I came here. I'm getting married."
Kreon's jaw practically drops to the floor. And it's about ten seconds before he remembers to breathe. "You're what!? Who?"
"Hiero." Kreon's face gets red and he looks like he's going to explode. Then he calms down.
"Is this a joke? It's a joke, right? That's a good one. You marrying Hiero. Very funny, sis." She takes her brother's hands and looks him in the eye.
"We're in love. He's crazy about me."
Kreon lets go of Penelope's hands and starts pacing back and forth. "This is why you requested the transfer. This is why you wanted to go up north to Lauron. So you two could be together. So you two could - " Kreon punches the wooden wall with his right hand.
"I went because that's where my forces were needed. Without us, his army could have been cut apart in the forests."
"They are slow and lumbering, like their hero."
"I wasn't expecting this to happen. But we just kept getting closer and closer. And then, two weeks ago, I was about to storm this fortress. And he didn't want me to go. He said he was afraid something might happen, and he didn't want to live without me in his life. He said he loved me. So I suggested with storm it together. But most of his forces were out foraging. And by the time they got back, it was getting dark, so we put it off until the next day. But then, in the morning, they agreed to surrender if we spared their lives. So the whole thing was moot, except for what it made him say. That night, we talking about how we felt about each other. And about our future. And that's when he asked."
"You know that he has a reputation. He's very experienced. But not very loyal. You two haven't - "
"Of course not! You know me better than that."
"So that must why he wants to marry you."
"Hiero loves me. I know you can't believe it. Not yet. So lemme put it in a way you can understand: Hiero knows that if he ever hurt me, or betrayed me, I could kill him, and he's not strong enough to stop me."
This makes Kreon crack a small smile. "Not if I got to him first."
"You see. It has to be love." Kreon ponders this point.
"Maybe it is. Maybe be does. But how could you love Hiero? He's not good enough for you. Not even close. And you know how he feels about Spike. How could you possibly love someone who hates Spike?"
"Hiero does not hate Spike."
"He loves Angel. Isn't that the same thing?" To Kreon, this is the equivalent of a mixed marriage.
"Hiero understands that we never would have met if it wasn't for Spike. He can't hate someone who helped bring us together."
"Spike sure as hell didn't mean to. Do you know what he'd say to you right now?"
"Probably something with the word bloody' in it a whole buncha times." They both laugh. "But Spike knew that a man could change, could become better. And he'd see that Hiero has. Just like you will."
"He's here? Just bloody' perfect." Penelope giggles. She always finds it funny when Kreon apes Spike's lingo. "You brought Baby Angel all the way here to rub my nose in it?"
"No. He's here to get you approval."
"My approval? You mean I can stop this thing?"
"Since dad's dead, you're the one who has to give me away."
"What if I say no?"
"You won't. Give him a chance."
"To rain on my bloody parade? It's not enough he comes here to steal my glory. Now he wants to steal my sister."
"No weapons."
"Oh cum on! I'm not gonna kill the bloke."
Penelope laughs. But then gets back to business. "Seriously."
"I'm not armed."
"Your dagger?"
Kreon pulls it out from the back of his belt. It has an eight inch-long, two inch-wide blade. "You mean this little thing? I only use this for dinner." Penelope rolls her eyes. Kreon sighs and hands her the weapon. She leaves the hall and goes outside, where Hiero's waiting. She pleads with him to be civil. He gives her a quick kiss on the lips, takes off Angel's gold crown and puts it on her head. Then he enters the hall. Kreon's wearing Spike's silver diadem. He's standing up much straighter than usual, staring up into the distance, looking as imperious as possible. Hiero puts his head down, walks up to Kreon, gets down on one knee to pay homage, and kisses a ring on Kreon's right hand. Kreon sneers, as if Hiero's not worthy. Hiero looks up at him.
"I think it's obvious that I love her. Why else would I EVER do this?" After breaking the ice, he stands up. "Seriously, congratulations on your victory. Outnumbered three-to-two, and it's the other guy's army that gets crushed. I have to hand to you."
"Couldn't have done it better yourself?," Kreon asks.
"Oh grow up!," Hiero shoots back. A couple seconds of deference was all he could manage. "I don't understand how you can be so immature. Penelope's two years younger than you, and you're the one who acts like a child. And yet she worships you. You're her hero. The guy who can do no wrong, who's never made a mistake. There must be something inside you that I'm not seeing. Because if Penelope sees it, then it has to be real."
"Is this the part where you're going to tell me she's the most amazing woman you've ever met?," Kreon asks, still not taking Hiero seriously.
"Because she is! Ever since we met, she's all I can think about. Penelope's not just the only woman I've ever loved. She's the only woman I could ever love. She's my Buffy."
Kreon scoffs at the notion. "But you're not her Spike."
"I know. I'm her An – " Kreon shoves Hiero into the wall and holds him there, looking furious. This is why Penelope took the knife away.
"Don't you dare say it," Kreon warns. Hiero laughs, trying to make light of their thorny little "theological" dispute.
"Careful. She loves us both. Which means from now on we'll have get along."
Kreon lets go of Hiero and walks away. "Bloody hell."
"Tell me about it. It's almost like I'm becoming a member of your family." Kreon gasps when he hears this.
Cordelia drive east on Wilshire Boulevard, heading towards downtown. That's where Mal lives, so they figure that's where their men have most likely gone. Halfway between their home and Mal's home, a station wagon passes them going the other way. Cordy's head whips to the left.
"What's the matter?," Fred asks.
"Nothing," Cordy responds, getting her eyes back on the road. "I must be so worried I'm seeing things. I coulda sworn Connor was driving that Taurus."