She waited until Connor left for school and everyone else had gone to bed before she went to the room of the green demon. Not as much of a night person as the rest of the group, Lorne had retired shortly after the meeting last night. Now she sat down against the wall across from his door to wait. And wait she did, over an hour before he opened his door, rubbing sleep from his red eyes. He smiled when he saw her. "I'm impressed. I thought you'd wake me hours ago."
"So you knew I'd be here?"
"I guessed you'd have some questions."
"Of course I have questions. And not just about the stupid field trip into Angel's brain."
"Whoa, there, Caitie-cat." He chuckled, holding one hand up. "it's early and I'm not even fully awake."
She froze. "Don't call me that." She said harshly. "My father used to call me that."
He sobered. "I'm sorry. Okay, you've got questions. I'll do my best to answer."
"You can read people when they sing. Why don't you just read Angel?"
He gestured for her to enter the room. "Have you heard him sing?" He asked with a dramatic shudder. "No thanks. I've heard all the Manilow I intend to." He noticed her dark expression and continued, "It doesn't work like that, princess. I read destinies, if people are open enough to let me see. Usually, the easiest way is to hear them sing. Whoever said the eyes are the windows to the soul was wrong. It's the voice."
"Fine. Why can't you do the mind meld thingie? Or Faith? She did it before."
"Faith was high on a dangerous amount of a powerful drug that almost killed her. We aren't going that route. As for me, I already explained. I can only read people when they are open to it. Angelus isn't going to be open. And before you ask, most of your standard psychics don't have any real power. They reflect the thoughts of others, like a mirror, then guess the rest. If this ritual is going to work, we need someone with power who is already tuned into the right frequency. That's you."
She stared at her feet and muttered, "Great." A thought occurred to her and her head popped up. "Can this kill me, or put me in a coma like Connor said?"
"Did you ever see the Matrix?"
"What? Come on, I-"
"Just answer."
"Yeah."
"Well, this is the same idea. Whatever happens will feel real to both of you. If Angelus hurts you in his head, you can die. If you kill Angelus – "
"Angel dies."
"Exactly. I suggest you get some sleep You're going to want to be as clear headed as possible."
Clear headed, she thought to herself as she walked down the long hallway. She stopped outside Angel's room. She thought about knocking, but hesitated. "Come in." she heard Angel call, taking the decision out of her hands. She opened the door.
"You aren't sleeping." She said stupidly.
"Neither are you."
He was sitting in a chair, back to the door. Impulsively, she entered the room and went to him, kneeling by the side of the chair. "Tell me something, a story or just something you like. I can look, but all I see is horrible images and sounds. Not just from you, but from everyone."
"Why?" He asked. "What do you want to hear?"
"I don't know. Something not horrible. That's all I hear, stories where you fight someone awful or are someone awful. If I'm going to do this, I want something to hold on to. I want to be able to look at Angelus and think, he would never do this."
"Something only the insane extra personality would do."
"Did I insult you earlier? I'm sorry; I didn't mean to. We get started talking about stuff and it's like it all happened to someone else. I forget that it's you."
He sighed, setting aside the sketchbook and pencil he had been holding. "No, you didn't. Something not horrible, huh?"
She nodded.
"It's harder than you'd think. How's this – in 1937 I had a cat."
"So you knew I'd be here?"
"I guessed you'd have some questions."
"Of course I have questions. And not just about the stupid field trip into Angel's brain."
"Whoa, there, Caitie-cat." He chuckled, holding one hand up. "it's early and I'm not even fully awake."
She froze. "Don't call me that." She said harshly. "My father used to call me that."
He sobered. "I'm sorry. Okay, you've got questions. I'll do my best to answer."
"You can read people when they sing. Why don't you just read Angel?"
He gestured for her to enter the room. "Have you heard him sing?" He asked with a dramatic shudder. "No thanks. I've heard all the Manilow I intend to." He noticed her dark expression and continued, "It doesn't work like that, princess. I read destinies, if people are open enough to let me see. Usually, the easiest way is to hear them sing. Whoever said the eyes are the windows to the soul was wrong. It's the voice."
"Fine. Why can't you do the mind meld thingie? Or Faith? She did it before."
"Faith was high on a dangerous amount of a powerful drug that almost killed her. We aren't going that route. As for me, I already explained. I can only read people when they are open to it. Angelus isn't going to be open. And before you ask, most of your standard psychics don't have any real power. They reflect the thoughts of others, like a mirror, then guess the rest. If this ritual is going to work, we need someone with power who is already tuned into the right frequency. That's you."
She stared at her feet and muttered, "Great." A thought occurred to her and her head popped up. "Can this kill me, or put me in a coma like Connor said?"
"Did you ever see the Matrix?"
"What? Come on, I-"
"Just answer."
"Yeah."
"Well, this is the same idea. Whatever happens will feel real to both of you. If Angelus hurts you in his head, you can die. If you kill Angelus – "
"Angel dies."
"Exactly. I suggest you get some sleep You're going to want to be as clear headed as possible."
Clear headed, she thought to herself as she walked down the long hallway. She stopped outside Angel's room. She thought about knocking, but hesitated. "Come in." she heard Angel call, taking the decision out of her hands. She opened the door.
"You aren't sleeping." She said stupidly.
"Neither are you."
He was sitting in a chair, back to the door. Impulsively, she entered the room and went to him, kneeling by the side of the chair. "Tell me something, a story or just something you like. I can look, but all I see is horrible images and sounds. Not just from you, but from everyone."
"Why?" He asked. "What do you want to hear?"
"I don't know. Something not horrible. That's all I hear, stories where you fight someone awful or are someone awful. If I'm going to do this, I want something to hold on to. I want to be able to look at Angelus and think, he would never do this."
"Something only the insane extra personality would do."
"Did I insult you earlier? I'm sorry; I didn't mean to. We get started talking about stuff and it's like it all happened to someone else. I forget that it's you."
He sighed, setting aside the sketchbook and pencil he had been holding. "No, you didn't. Something not horrible, huh?"
She nodded.
"It's harder than you'd think. How's this – in 1937 I had a cat."