Orpheus
author: Elizabeth5
pairing: W/F, with some C/D, C/A, and other tidbit pairings from the Buffyverse
summary: After Wesley's death, he learns that there is still a chance to save Fred's soul. It's all about closure, baby.
category: romance, angst, action/adventure
rating: PG
author's note: There's no denying that Joss Whedon is a genius, but I need a little more closure. So here it is.
Disclaimer: none of this is mine. Sadly.
chapter six: Mr. Mayor
The last notes of Tara's song died away, and the room was deathly silent. Her song had been a thing of real beauty– sad, sweet, hopeful– and there was not a person in the room who hadn't been affected by it. Even Ector was sniffing heavily.
Doyle stared at him incredulously. "Are you– are you crying?"
"No," Ector retorted, perhaps a bit too quickly.
Anya merely blinked at this. "Of course you're crying. Salty liquid is pouring from your eyes. That's what crying is."
"Conduits to higher beings do not cry," Ector protested, sniffing indignantly. "I'm...having an allergic reaction. To the fire." Taking a moment to compose himself, he blinked away the last of the tears. "The Powers That Be have considered your gift and find it acceptable. Wesley Wyndham-Pryce will be allowed to travel to the forbidden plane."
In an instant, Wesley had crushed Tara in his embrace. "Thank you," he whispered into her hair. Tara merely smiled, patting his back in return.
Watching this, Doyle cleared his throat, scratching at the back of his head. "I'm a little confused," he admitted. "I thought Wesley was gonna have to go through all sorts of tests and trials to save Fred, not just hand over one song."
"He has not retrieved Winnifred's soul yet," Ector informed them. "He has merely granted himself passage to the forbidden plane. Once there, the keeper of that plane will subject him to tests in order to bring her back." He turned his gaze to Wesley. "And now, here is the portal to the forbidden plane. Please say your goodbyes quickly– we do have other appointments to keep."
With a rush of wind, the head was gone, and all that was left were the flames. Wesley turned to his friends, smiling weakly. "Well," he said finally, "this is it."
Doyle clapped him on the back. "Good luck, Wes. We'll be rooting for you here."
"Good luck," Tara echoed.
Taking in a deep breath, Anya stepped forward, extending her hand. "Good luck," she said. "Try not to be completely and utterly destroyed."
Wesley smiled at this. "I'll do my best."
Finally, it was only Wesley and Cordelia. She attempted to smile but couldn't; instead, she threw herself into Wesley's arms and held him tightly. "Bring her back to us," she murmured into his shoulder. "And bring yourself back, too."
Wesley tightened his grip on her. "I will."
They hugged for a moment longer and then stepped apart. Wesley gave one last lingering smile to his friends, then turned and vanished into the portal.
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Lindsey backed away from the stranger, dragging Lilah with him. "Who the hell are you?" he demanded.
The Mayor laughed. "There's no need to be afraid. I'm harmless...mostly. I mean, I can destroy your very soul on a whim, but I wouldn't do that. At least, not usually. Besides, you three happen to be favorites of mine. All gorgeous, charming, complicated people. I'd prefer it if you smiled a bit more often, but I won't quibble."
Lindsey grabbed a nearby pipe and wielded it in his hands. "I'm not gonna say it again. Who are you?"
"Calm down, Captain Confrontation," the Mayor returned, completely unfazed. "I already explained all that. I'm Richard Wilkins the Third– the keeper of this plane. So if you have any complaints, now's the time to direct them to me. There is a suggestion box somewhere around here, but it's so dang hard to find in the dark..."
"The keeper of the plane?" Fred repeated. "So...you're sort of like the jailkeeper around here?"
The Mayor laughed at this, delighted. "I heard you were smart. And cute as a button, too. I could just eat you up...but don't worry, I haven't done that in a while."
"Richard Wilkins," Lilah repeated to herself, frowning. Her face filled with recognition. "You were the mayor of that Hellmouth...Sunnydale. You turned into a giant snake before you were killed by the slayer, Bunny."
"Buffy," Fred corrected.
At the mention of Buffy's name, the Mayor's face darkened. "Yes, well...she may have destroyed my body, but she didn't get to the soul. And fortunately for me, I'd already signed a waver saying I got to be leader of this little plane upon my death. A real nice situation, if I may say so myself."
Lindsey looked bored. "Can I hit him yet?" he inquired.
The Mayor laughed. "I do appreciate you, Lindsey. You got a lotta spunk. But you could use a haircut– clean cut, that's the way to be. Gives a better impression."
He snapped his fingers, and the pipe disappeared from Lindsey's hands. Lindsey hesitated, then allowed his hands to drop to his side. "All right. So you got the power around here. What do you want?"
"I came for Fred," the Mayor informed them, meeting her gaze evenly. "We have some business to discuss."
He moved toward her, but Lindsey stepped in his way. "Over my dead body."
"Oh, Lindsey, Lindsey, Lindsey," the Mayor said, clearly amused, "There are too many things wrong with that statement to even begin. So let me shorten things by telling you that I'm not going to hurt Fred."
Lindsey was openly skeptical. "You're not?"
"Of course not." the Mayor returned. "In fact, I'm here because someone's trying to give her a chance to upgrade. And you wouldn't want to stand in the way of that, would you?"
Lindsey and Fred exchanged dubious glances. Seeing this, the Mayor continued, "Don't believe me, do you? Well then, see for yourselves."
There was a flash of light, and then there was a fifth person standing in the midst of the room.
Wesley.