Chapter 16: Future Imperfect.
Lorne stopped outside the door of the reception room and turned to Spike. "I need a drink," he said wearily.
"You and me both," replied Spike, his hand on the doorknob.
"You don't need a drink," replied Lorne.
Spike tilted his head slightly and gave the green demon a questioning look. "What's up?" He dropped his hand from the door.
Lorne sighed and slumped against the wall. "Guess I'm just sick of being the guy who tells people what they want to hear." He looked Spike in the eyes. "Did you see Charles' face when Wes picked up Fred?"
"You mean Gunn and Fred . . .?"
"For a while." Lorne pulled himself upright. "Poor Charles. Lost his powers. Lost his girl." He turned the doorknob and entered the room.
"Tell me about it," muttered Spike following him.
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Spike strode over to where Ethan sat sipping what looked like a Bloody Mary from a large tumbler. "Harm been keeping you entertained has she?"
Ethan looked up from the album cover he'd been studying. "She's tried her best, I'm sure. But my tastes run to something a little hotter-bloodied. Though there is the compensation of her somewhat ample attributes that a less ethical person might allow cloud his judgement." He cast an appreciative eye over Harmony's rear end, as she bent to replace a discarded album in the box on the floor.
"Gotta agree with you on that one, mate," said Spike tilting his head for a better view. "Pity the packaging doesn't house something a little less annoying under the bonnet." Spike peered into a box lying on the table beside Ethan. Where'd you find this stuff, Harm? You been to a museum?"
Harmony flashed him a brilliant smile. "Didn't need to Spike, the music archives here give whatever you want just at the flick of a mouse. But then you wouldn't know anything about that, would you, Mr Technologically Challenged?"
Spike ignored the gibe. "Flick of a button eh? Really? That where you got all the stuff for my office? Can I get it on the original vinyl like these? Mine had a bit of an accident."
Harmony threw him a disgusted look and opened her mouth to respond.
Lorne seated himself in a chair beside the platform and coughed loudly. "Um, do you think we could skip the golden-oldies discussion before it starts? Let's get this over with."
Ethan looked at him over the rim of his glass? "Over with? What exactly are you going to do?"
The doors swung open revealing Angel and Connor side by side. They held back the double doors for Fred who shuffled slowly into the room supported by Wesley on one side and Gunn on the other.
"What did you think you were going to do here, Ethan? Play us your favourite tracks and have a few drinks before we let you go?" Angel snarled.
"Well, yes, it did cross my mind that might be the best course of action, after the way you treated me last night." Ethan shifted uneasily under Angel's glare.
"Which part of your twisted mind reckons we owe you anything?" growled Spike threateningly. "It's you owes us, chum."
Angel closed the doors and watched as Gunn and Wesley helped Fred to a seat at a table behind Lorne. As he walked slowly towards Ethan, Angel's eyes never left the Mage's face. "OK," he said when everyone was seated. "I'll tell you what's going to happen next. You're going to sing for Lorne. And he's going to read you. He's good at what he does, so he's going to find out exactly what you did and when you did it. And don't even think of refusing to sing, because that road leads back to the stationary closet, and this time I throw away the key."
There was a moment's silence before Angel and Spike suddenly swung their attention to Fred, alarmed by the scent of her increasing distress. She sat hugging her knees and rocking herself slowly, all the time focussing her gaze on Wesley's face. "I shouldn't be here. I should be in the lab working. It's what I do," she murmured to him.
"Shhh," Wesley whispered. "Hold on a little while longer. We're doing everything we can." He took hold of her hands and stopped her rocking.
Fred stiffened and pulled her hands from his grasp. "I am not the damsel in distress, here. I have to work this. Something could have been missed."
Wesley's face crumpled with pain as he watched her try to pull herself together. "Wait a little," he said softly. "You can help me with the Summoning. But you need to be strong. Lean on me." He gathered her in his arms and carried her to a low armchair where he sat stroking her hair, her head resting on his chest.
Ethan fidgeted nervously on his barstool. "I didn't realise I'd have an audience," he said sulkily.
"What's the matter, Ethan? Worried you'll forget your lines? They're right in front of you." Angel glared and gestured at the monitor on the table beside Ethan's barstool.
"And cue music," said Lorne.
The sound system burst into life with the opening riff of the lead guitar. Ethan closed his eyes, held the microphone to his lips and began.
Strange Brew, kill what's inside of you.
She's a witch of trouble in electric blue,
In her own mad mind she's in love with you,
With you. Now what you gonna do?
Strange brew, kill what's inside of you?
Lorne sat forward in his chair, his face rigid with concentration and streaming with perspiration, his breath laboured and rapid. He took a gulp of water from the glass on the table beside him and mopped his brow.
"Anything?" Angel asked anxiously.
"Plenty," gasped Lorne. "This future - no Eve." He gave a hollow laugh. "Congratulations Ethan, promotion and immortality."
Ethan opened his eyes and grinned. "Immortality? Now that's what I call a decent sala. . ."
"I got nothing we're looking for, yet," interrupted Lorne. He studied his hands, which were shaking violently. "Next verse," he croaked.
"If you insist," Ethan shrugged and closed his eyes again.
She's some kind of demon messing in the pooh,
If you don't watch out it'll stick to you, to you,
What kind of fool are you?
Strange brew, kill what's inside of you.
Lorne's head snapped round towards Fred, his eyes wide with horror. He closed them against the images crowding his brain. Fred, leather clad, blue skinned moving in a blur, dragging Knox past the others who moved in slow motion. Spike exploding into dust revealing a blue-haired Fred with a stake in her hand. "No! No, No!" screamed Lorne clutching his head.
Angel made a throat-cutting motion to Harmony who switched off the karaoke machine.
"On a boat in the middle of a ragin' . . . What? I wasn't that bad, surely?" asked Ethan opening his eyes. "I had quite a following in my day. Giles and I could have gone right to the top if we hadn't had that little disagreement about musical integrity. I am deeply wounded by the implied criticism of your screams."
"You'll be deeply wounded by more than that if you don't shut it," snapped Spike.
Gunn knelt down beside Lorne. "Lorne? What is it? What did you see?"
Lorne opened his eyes and looked at him, unable to speak. He motioned at the empty glass and Gunn hastily poured some more water and handed it to him. Lorne took a deep breath and slowly drank the contents of the glass. He rose to his feet and took some more deep breaths, looking at each of the others in turn but carefully avoiding Fred. "Ok," he said, finally. "I got the two futures. And here's the thing. In the one we're interested in, he's not here."
"Not here," cried Ethan, springing to his feet. "You don't mean I'm . . . " Harmony pushed him back onto the stool.
"I mean not here in LA," replied Lorne icily. "You're where you should have stayed, in Cleveland."
Angel studied Lorne's face. "What about the rest, Lorne? What else did you see?"
"Too much, way too much," groaned Lorne.
Wesley lifted Fred onto another chair and moved to Lorne's side. "Lorne, please. Did you see anything that will help us with Illyria?"
"Illyria!" Lorne choked back a sob and sank back into his chair.
"Did you see her? What's she like, all arms and blood and terminal ugliness?" asked Spike.
Lorne ran a hand across his eyes. "No, she's not, she's . . ."
"Don't let them take me!" cried Fred suddenly, springing to her feet and looking round her wildly.
Gunn caught her in his arms as she collapsed.
"Lorne!" cried Wesley, rushing to Fred's side. " For pity's sake, tell us, we don't have much time left."
Lorne looked at Gunn as he carefully laid Fred down on the floor. Wesley knelt beside her and placed a cushion under her head and checked her breathing.
"It . . . it was a blur," stammered Lorne. "I'm not sure what I saw."
"Give it your best shot, mate. That's all we ask," said Spike patting his shoulder.
Lorne took another deep breath. "Illyria has to go back to kill Ethan," he whispered. "If she kills him before he has a chance to do the deal with the Jenoff, before Spike recorporealises . . . That's what she has to do in this time line to . . ." He stopped and looked again at Gunn. "But I saw . . . I thought I saw . . . but it couldn't be . . . she couldn't . . .
Angel's hand shot out suddenly and grasped Ethan who had left his seat and was creeping quietly along the wall towards the door. He shoved him into a chair. "Sit! And stay!" he ordered. "Or I'll have Harmony chain you up somewhere not very nice."
Lorne got up and walked slowly towards the door, glancing at Gunn once again before opening it. "I'm sorry, Angelcakes," he said. "That's all I can give you. I got nothin' else I can't . . ." He walked out into the corridor closing the door quietly behind him.
"Lorne!" Wesley called after him.
"If he's doubting himself, he won't be any good to us," said Spike looking at the door.
"Spike's right," said Angel. "Let him go. We've got what we need. We shouldn't push him for any more."
"At least he didn't have the nose bleeds and migraine. I suppose we should be grateful for small mercies," agreed Wesley. He looked down at Fred who moaned slightly and opened her eyes.
"Is it today?" she asked sitting up.
"Yes. You only slept for a few minutes," replied Wesley helping her to her feet.
"What was I doing sleeping on the floor?" said Fred gazing round the room at the karaoke set-up.
"Ethan's singing put you to sleep, Pet," said Spike smiling slightly. "That's how bad he was."
"And now, we're going to start the real work of the night. Harmony, kit out the guest suite for whatever this creep wants for his final hours in this alternate reality," Angel called over his shoulder. He strode towards the doors dragging a protesting Ethan with him. "Come on people, let's get cracking."
"Get cracking," said Fred mockingly. "He's such an old fogey." She smiled at Wesley and took the arm he offered as they followed Angel into the corridor.
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The office was eerily quiet. Angel sat at his desk contemplating the events of the past weeks. Connor was back in his life. A new Connor, but still his son. He looked across the room to where Spike, Connor, Wesley and Gunn sat in silence. Connor seemed to be dozing, his head lolled back against the headrest, his breathing even and shallow. Wesley's face was grey, his clothes dishevelled and dusty. He hadn't shaved in days and looked as is he hadn't slept much either, his eyelids puffy and hooded. Gunn didn't move, his gaze fixed somewhere beyond the window in the dark night sky.
The stillness was broken by Spike tapping his fingers on the arm of the chair. He fidgetted and patted his pockets, searching for his cigarettes.
"Don't even think of it, Spike," snapped Angel. "Go outside if you want to . . ."
"Aw, c'mon, Peaches, I need to do something, Spike protested. "What're we doing sittin' around? What happened to get cracking?"
"It is the middle of the night," Wesley reminded him. "Fred's sleeping. She'll need all her strength to get through the Summoning."
"I thought you said you needed just a drop of blood," asked Connor, opening his eyes.
"She'll need her strength for the spiritual strain she'll have to endure," replied Wesley patiently. "The Summoning is a powerful spell."
Angel stood up and stretched his legs. "Are you really sure we have to go through with this Wes?" he asked. "Lorne saw something that has him badly freaked."
"I'm sure Fred won't survive if we don't," Wesley replied. "We'll lose her. And I can't, Angel, not now. I've only just . . ."
"We're not gonna lose her," said Spike emphatically. "Not this girl, not this day."
Angel turned to look at him questioningly.
"It's what we do – save the girl," said Spike.
"It's what we used to do," murmurred Angel looking at his son. "Once upon a time."